And, inasmuch as Aunt Adah had been long past labor and was living as a pensioner on the family at the time of the emancipation, any stranger hearing her boast might have thought that policy and not principle was the secret of her fidelity to native soil and friends. But such was not the case. At no age would she have left the home and the family to whom she was so strongly attached.
Her bondage was that of love, from which no act of Congress could emancipate her.
“Would you like a glass of wine, Aunt Adah?” inquired the young man, reaching his thin hand to a silver call-bell that stood upon the stand near him.
“No, honey; no, chile, not yit; not jis yit! I’d like a tumbler ob good b’andy toddy, bimeby, but not yit, caze I’s got somefin on my min’,” replied the old creature, so very solemnly that Hereward withdrew his hand from the bell, lifted his head and looked at her.
“Something on your mind, Aunt Adah?” he inquired.
“Yes, young marster, somefin werry sarous on my min’,” repeated the aged woman.
“What is it, Adah? Speak out, my good soul. Don’t be afraid!” said Hereward, kindly.
“I ain’t afeard, young marster! ’Tain’t dat! But it is somefin berry heabby on to my min’, as been wantin’ to get offen my min’ by tellin’ ob you; an’ dat’s wot fetch me yere mos’ ebbery day since yer’s been sick; on’y dey wouldn’ leabe me see yer, no way, and I ’spects dey was yight. But I sees yer now, young marse, an’ I wants to tell yer.”
“Very well, Aunt Adah, tell me what it is now,” said Hereward, in an encouraging tone.
“Young marse, it is a solemn secret, beknown on’y to me an’ one udder gran’ wilyan! But I was boun’ not to tell anybody on dis worl’ ’fo’ I could tell yo’ fuss. Dough, indeed, it ought fo’ to be tole long ago, on’y it wasn’ in my power to tell it at de yight time, caze I was all alone in my house, laid up long ob de rheumatiz, an’ didn’ know wot was gwine on yere at dis place; an’ w’en I did come to fine out, it were too late fer dem, an’ I come to tell yer, but yer was too ill to be ’sturbed, an’ dey wouldn’ let me see yer, an’ I ’spects dey was yight; but I was ’termined to keep dat solemn secret in my own heart, an’ not to tell nobody wot I knowed to make a stracshun in de place, till yo’ got well so I could tell yo’ fuss, an’ let yer do wot yer t’ought bes’.”