Story 1--Chapter VI.
Mou-Setsé Seeks to Fulfil his Purpose.
I have said that Mou-Setsé had a fixed purpose. This purpose led him to America. He settled in a certain town in one of the States, and with the money he had saved opened a small shop or store. He dealt in the kind of goods that his black brothers and sisters most needed, and many of them frequented his little shop.
At this period of his life some people considered him miserly. His shop did well and his money stores increased, but he himself lived in the most parsimonious style; he scarcely allowed himself the necessaries of life, and never thought of marrying or giving himself the comforts of a home. All day long he attended his shop, but in the evening he went about a great deal, and gradually became known to all his black brothers and sisters in the town. Most of these were in slavery, and many had most bitter tales to tell. A few, however, were free; these were the slaves who had worked for long years to obtain sufficient money to buy this precious boon from their masters. With these free slaves Mou-Setsé held much intercourse, asking them of their past life, and always inquiring most particularly from what part of Africa they or their parents had come. By degrees, as he collected money, he helped these free slaves to emigrate to Canada, where they could enjoy and make a good use of the freedom they had so dearly won. But he never helped any one to go away with his money without first exacting a promise from him or her. This promise was made in secrecy, and was, I believe, faithfully kept by each and all.
As he helped each poor freed slave to get away (and as his gains increased he helped many)—as he helped them off, and knew that he had gained a certain promise from them, his heart grew lighter, and he felt that he was nearer to the realisation of some dearly cherished dream. On these occasions he often repaired to a certain church and prayed. Kneeling in the quiet church, the black man poured out a very full heart to his loving Father in heaven. “God, de good God,” he would say, “let me not cry in vain; let me see my fader and moder and my broders and sister again. Give me more of de money, good God, and more, much more of de faith; so dat I may send more and more of de poor blackies to look for dose as I lobs!”
But his great anxiety about his own people by no means closed the heart of Mou-Setsé to those whose troubles he daily witnessed. For reasons of his own, he was always down on the quay to watch the faces of any new slaves that might come. He knew before any one else of a fresh slave who was brought into the town, and he always attended the slave market. But he did more; he helped his brethren whose groans went daily—indeed, night and day—up to heaven. Many a poor mother, when she was torn from her child, went to Mou-Setsé’s store, and poured out her great trouble into his kind heart; and somehow or other, he managed to get tidings of the lost child, or the lost parent or husband. By degrees he made an immense connection for himself all over America, and no one knew more about the ways and doings of the black people than he did.