“Yes, though I don’t see of what use it can be, seeing that she’s a slave, and her deposition is worthless under our laws.”
“To what did Esha depose?”
“Haven’t you seen the depositions?”
“O yes! But not having read them carefully as yet, I should like the benefit of your recollections.”
“O, Esha merely identified the girl’s clothes and the initials marked upon them,—for she knows the alphabet. She also remembered seeing Mr. Ratcliff lift the child out of the barouche the day he first called here. All which was taken down.”
“Could you let me see the clothes and the account-books?”
“I gave them all up to Mr. Jasper. Didn’t he tell you so?”
“Perhaps. I may have forgotten.”
Semmes bade Mrs. Gentry good evening.
“Headed off by all that’s unfortunate!” muttered he, as he walked away. “And by that smooth Churchman, Jasper! Why didn’t I think to hermetically seal up this Mrs. Gentry’s clack, and take away all her traps and books? And Esha,—if she weren’t playing false, she would have reported all this to me at once. But I’ll let the old hag see that, deep as she is, she isn’t beyond the reach of my plummet. That pretended brother of hers, too! He must be looked after. I shouldn’t wonder if he were a spy of Winslow’s. I must venture upon a coup d’état at once, if I would defeat their plottings. How shall I manage it?”