"Don't you never mind me, as I don't want no money." It was then that I explained to him that I should like to be furnished a pencil and some paper so that I might write home for some money, etc. The stationery was at once supplied, and, as I had while lying on the cot bed during the long August days blanked out my proposed letter, I proceeded to work my cipher out on paper.
My faithful colored boy felt encouraged by my talk with him to offer me some good advice:
"You don need to give no money to me, an if I was you I'd not give no money to dem clerks, either. I'd jis tell de ole man, if I was you, and he wont let dem take all you money, and you sick hyar."
This advice, offered in his most friendly way, was none the less accepted thankfully, because it came from a slave boy and a waiter, in his own words, as near as I can give it. I learned that the "ole man" was the proprietor of the hotel, and from his further description I gathered that I had not seen him since I had been in the house. The man who had talked about sending me to a hospital, the first days of my illness, was only a clerk, though I had assumed him to be the owner, because he was quite old and had so much to say to me. He was easily "placated," anyway, by the cash I had tendered him, in payment for a week's board in advance. I have wondered often if I were indebted to his pocketing that money, for the fact that my presence was so completely overlooked. I would prefer, however, to give the colored boy the credit for having quietly "done as he was tole, and axed no questions."
The "ole man" was an invalid at the time of which I am writing, being confined to his room most of the day. I made some anxious inquiries also about the "ole woman," and was glad to hear that she was "So big an fat she doan go roun much."
I was solicitous about the proprietor and his wife, because, you know, a great deal depended upon how he was going to jump after he had found out that I had been in the house two weeks, apparently without the knowledge of the office, and certainly without having paid any board for the time.
One nice morning, while feeling pretty fair and bright, I decided to make the break, knowing that I had to do something soon. I gave my letter to the boy to deliver to the "ole man," first, for his information as to the prospects of his getting paid, and, secondly, asking his advice as to the best means to have it sent North. You will observe the apparent burden of my letter is for a remittance of money, and, in the second place, I wanted to get it suitably endorsed or vised by some one well known in Richmond, so that I would not have to show up personally in it.
With a good deal of anxiety and heartache I waited in my back room for the boy's return, which would bring me this verdict. I dreaded being suspected as an enemy in concealment more than to be sent out on the streets of Richmond, though I was so poor that I should soon starve, because too weak to attempt any kind of work. In anticipation of at least the latter treatment, I had dressed myself up carefully in my new suit of clothes, which I had bought the day before I took sick. They had become ever so much too large for me. A severe dysentery can waste a frail human frame considerably in three weeks. When I heard the footsteps of two persons down the long corridors—they had no carpet on that annex—my heart sank within me as they stopped before my door. In another moment my trusted colored boy had thrown open the door; and, as he stood aside to let the other person in, he said: "Dar he."
I felt sure for the moment that all was lost—that the boy had given me away. When the "ole man" got up close enough I am sure he was struck by my very pale face. I was trembling from the effect of the suspense and tension to my nerves, and could scarcely hold my head up. The "ole man" was not old at all, but a rather thin, benevolent-looking, middle-aged gentleman; he was lame and had apparently been very sick himself; his kindly manner reassured me in part, and when he bade me, "Lie right down and keep perfectly composed; we will take care of you, my boy," I did as he directed. I had to drop, and I turned my face into the pillow and sobbed like a big baby for a moment or two, so overcome was I in my weak condition by the breaking strain after and the reversal of feeling, it was so entirely different from anything I had expected.
The "ole man" had a few words more of comfort, and, turning to the colored boy, said, rather savagely: