“You did, you did. Why, don’t you see?” he cried, as he dragged her from one plot to another, “here is not a potato left, the yams are all gone, and look at the plantain boughs torn down. Everything is spoiled. I have nothing to feed my pigs with. I have nothing to carry to market. I have no more money than I had a year ago. I shall not be free this year—nor the next—nor the next—nor—I wish I was dead. I shall never be free till then.”
Hester did not understand what all this meant, so she remained silent and quiet.
“Child!” Cassius broke forth again, “do you want to be free? Do you know anybody that wants to be free?”
“I don’t know what it is to be free,” said the child, innocently.
“No, nor ever will,” muttered Cassius. “It was not you that helped to rob me then. It is somebody else who wants a ransom by fair means or foul.”
“You always gave me some fruit when I asked,” said the child, “so why should I steal it? And I have been in the fields ever since dinner-time.”
“And where have Robert and Sukey been?”
Instead of answering, Hester looked round for a way of escape. Her impatient companion shook an answer out of her.
“They beat me sometimes when I say where they are.”[are.”]
“I will beat you if you don’t. No, no, I won’t,” said Cassius, relenting at the child’s tears; “I never beat you, did I?”