“I'd better sho' you the way, old 'oman,” he said, lazily shuffling off the stool he was sitting on pretending to be reading a paper—“you'll never fin' the room by yo'self.”
He led her along through the main room, hot, lint-filled and evil-smelling. It was quite dark. Then to the rear, where the mill jutted on the side of a hill, he stopped in front of a door and said: “This is her room; she's in there, I reckin—she's gen'ly late.”
With quickening heart the old woman entered and, almost immediately, she heard the door behind her shut and the key turn in the bolt. The room was empty and she sprang back to the door, only to find it securely locked, and to hear Jud Carpenter's jeers from without. She ran to the two small windows. They were high and looked out over a ravine.
She did not utter a word. Reared as she had been among the Conways, she was too well bred to act the coward, and beg and plead in undignified tones for relief. At first she thought it was only a cruel joke of the Whipper-in, but when he spoke, she saw it was not.
“Got you where I want you, Mother of Zion,” he said through the key hole. “I guess you are safe there till mornin' unless the Angel of the Lord opens the do' as they say he has a way of doin' for Saints—ha—ha—ha!”
No word from within.
“Wanter kno' what I shet you up for, Mother of all Holiness? Well, listen: It's to keep you there till to-morrow—that's good reason, ain't it? You'll find a lot of cotton in the fur corner—a mighty good thing for a bed. Can't you talk? How do you like it? I guess you ain't so independent now.”
There was a pause. The old woman sat numbly in Helen's chair. She saw a bunch of violets in her frame, and the odor brought back memories of her old home. A great fear began to creep over her—not for herself, but for Helen, and she fell on her knees by the frame and prayed silently.
Jud's voice came again: “Want to kno' now why you'll stay there till mornin'? Well, I'll tell you—it'll make you pass a com'f'table night—you'll never see Miss Helen ag'in—”
The old nurse sprang to her feet. She lost control of herself, for all day she had felt this queer presentiment, and now was it really true? She blamed herself for not taking Helen that morning.