“Hopper, child! Mr. Hopper, honey; the Reberent Mr. Hopper; which whoever heard tell of a reberent gentleman of the name o’ Hopper, which to my thinking is more besuited a dancing-master, or a skipping-jack nor a Methody minis’er. But so it is, honey; and I ’spose people aint to be blamed for their misfortnit names. But what I would like to know is, what he gwine prowlywowling ’bout the country for?” said mammy.
And Drusilla shared her curiosity, though she did not answer it.
“What, indeed, could be taking this young Methodist minister, who had married her to Alick, and who could testify to the validity of the marriage? What could be taking him on the same day, by the same conveyance, on the same journey with herself? Could his errand have any connection with Alick’s approaching iniquitous marriage, or with his prior one? Indeed it looked so.
“But, nonsense, I am morbid and fanciful; the minister who married us happens to be journeying at the same time and in the same coach with myself, and I jump to the conclusion that he is going to the like place on the like business. What a weak fool my sorrows have made me, to be sure,” said Drusilla to herself, taking her imagination to task for its vagaries.
But she could not quite stop its wanderings.
“I’ll tell you what, honey, the night is a going to be a bad one. Them clouds over there is a banking up like mountains of soot. And the most I care for is this:—it will drive them there passengers from the top to the inside, to moilest us,” said mammy, drawing her head in from the window.
“Well, they have a right to come, nurse. You would not keep them out in the rain all night, would you?”
“Yes; that I would; ’cause I want to have the coach all to ourselves,” said mammy, positively.
It was quite dark and very cloudy when the coach reached the little, rural town of Drainsville, where the horses were to be changed and the passengers were to take tea.
“Come, honey; les us get out,” said mammy, hiding away some of her treasures, while she loaded herself with others.