Miss Bradly made no answer, and I marvelled not at her changing color. Had she not power to read, in that noble youth's voice and manner, the high enduring truth and singleness of purpose that dwelt in his nature? Though he had never spoken one word in relation to slavery, I knew that all his instincts were against it; and that opposition to it was the principle deeply ingrained in his heart.
CHAPTER XIII.
RECOLLECTIONS—CONSOLING INFLUENCE OF SYMPATHY—AMY'S DOCTRINE OF THE SOUL—TALK AT THE SPRING.
As Mr. Peterkin was passing through the vestibule of the front door, he met young master standing there. Now, this was Mr. Peterkin's favorite child, for, though he did not altogether like that quietude of manner, which he called "poke-easy," the boy had never offered him any affront about his incorrect language, or treated him with indignity in any way. And then he was so beautiful! True, his father could not appreciate the spiritual nobility of his face; yet the symmetry of his features and the spotless purity of his complexion, answered even to Mr. Peterkin's idea of beauty. The coarsest and most vulgar soul is keenly alive to the beauty of the rose and lily; though that concealed loveliness, which is only hinted at by the rare fragrance, may be known only to the cultivated and poetic heart. Often I have heard him say, "John is pretty enoff to be a gal."
Now as he met him in the vestibule, he said, "John, I'm in a peck o' trouble."
"I am sorry you are in trouble father."
"That cussed black wench, Lindy, is off, and I'm 'fraid the neighborhood kant be waked up soon enough to go arter and ketch her. Let me git her once more in my clutches, and I'll make her pay for it. I'll give her one good bastin' that she'll 'member, and then I'll send her down the river fur enough."
The boy made no reply; but, with his eyes cast down on the earth, he seemed to be unconscious of all that was going on around him. When he raised his head his eyes were burning, his breath came thick and short, and a deep scarlet spot shone on the whiteness of his cheek; the veins in his forehead lay like heavy cords, and his very hair seemed to sparkle. He looked as one inspired. This was unobserved by his parent, who hastily strode away to find more willing listeners. I tarried in a place where, unnoticed by others, I commanded a good out-look. I saw young master clasp his hands fervently, and heard him passionately exclaim—"How much longer, oh, how much longer shall this be?" Then slowly walking down his favorite path, he was lost to my vision. "Blessed youth, heaven-missioned, if thou wouldst only speak to me! One word of consolation from God-anointed lips like thine, would soothe even the sting of bondage; but no," I added, "that earnest look, that gentle tone, tell perhaps as much as it is necessary for me to know. This silence proceeds from some noble motive. Soon enough he will make himself known to us."