That his own personal feeling did not carry conviction to his listeners was evidenced by the sullen silence of many 173 who did not think it wise to contradict him. Pluto was the only person to argue with him. But this proved to be the one subject on which Pluto could not be his natural good-natured self. His big black eyes held threatening gleams, rebellious blood throbbed through every vein of his dark body. He championed the cause of the runaways; he knew of none who had left a good master; old man Masterson was unreasonable as Matthew Loring; he did not blame them for leaving such men.
“I got good a mistress––good a master as is in all Carolina,” he stated, bluntly, “but you think I stay here to work for any of them if it wan’t for my boy?––my Rose’s baby? No, I wouldn’t! I’d go North, too! I’d never stop till I reached the men who fight against slave states. You all know what keeps me here. I’d never see my boy again. I done paid eighteen dollars towards Rose’s freedom when she died. Then I ask Mr. Jean Larue if he wouldn’t let that go on the baby. He said yes, right off, an’ told me I could get him for hundred fifty dollars; that why I work ’long like I do, an’ let the other men fight fo’ freedom But I ain’t contented so long as any man can sell me an’ my child.”
None of the other blacks made any verbal comment on his feelings or opinions, but old Nelse easily saw that Pluto’s ideas outweighed his own with them.
“I un’stan’ you to say Mahs Jean Larue promise he keep yo’ boy till such time as the money is raised?” he asked, cautiously.
“That’s the way it was,” assented Pluto. “I ain’t been to see him––little Zekal––for nigh on two months now. I’m goen’, sure, soon as Mrs. McVeigh come home an’ get settled. It’s quite a jaunt from our place to Mahs Larue’s––thirty good mile.”
Aunt Chloe poured him out some more rye and corn-meal coffee and insisted on him having more sweet potato pie. She swept an admonishing glance towards the others as she did so. “I did heah some time ago one o’ the Larue’s gwine way down to the Mexico country,” she remarked, carelessly. “I don’t reckon though it is this special Larue. I mind they did have such a monstrous flock o’ them Larue boys long time back; some got killed in this heah war what’s maken’ trouble all roun’. How much you got paid on yo’ little boy, Pluto?”
“Most thirty dollars by time I make next trip over. Takes mighty long time to save money these days, quarters scarcer than dollars use to be.”
His entertainers agreed with him; then the little maid Raquel entered to say Pluto was wanted by Miss Sajane soon as his lunch was over.
And as he walked across the grounds Evilena pointed him out to Delaven.