'I'm running away, Uncle Tom and Aunt Chloe—carrying off my child,' said Eliza. 'Master sold him.'
'Sold him?' they both echoed, lifting up their hands in dismay.
'Yes, sold him,' said Eliza. 'I heard master tell missis that he had sold my Harry, and you, Uncle Tom. The man is coming to take you away to-morrow.'
At first Tom could hardly believe what he heard. Then he sank down, and buried his face in his hands.
'The good Lord have pity on us!' said Aunt Chloe. 'What has Tom done that master should sell him?'
'He hasn't done anything—it isn't for that. Master don't want to sell; but he owes this man money. If he doesn't pay him it will end in his having to sell the house and all the slaves. Master said he was sorry. But missis she talked like an angel. I'm a wicked girl to leave her so, but I can't help it. It must be right; but if it an't right, the good Lord will forgive me, for I can't help doing it.
'Tom,' said Aunt Chloe, 'why don't you go too? There's time.'
Tom slowly raised his head and looked sorrowfully at her.
'No, no,' he said. 'Let Eliza go. It is right that she should try to save her boy. Mas'r has always trusted me, and I can't leave him like that. It is better for me to go alone than for the whole place to be sold. Mas'r isn't to blame, Chloe. He will take care of you and the poor—'