"Come, 'long, come 'long, boys, arter we stores dis gal away I'll gib you yer dram."
There had stood poor Lindy, never once looking up, crestfallen, broken in heart, and bruised in body, awaiting a painful punishment, scarce hoping to escape with life and limb. Striking her a blow with his huge riding-whip, Mr. Peterkin shouted, "off with you to the lock-up!"
Now, that which was technically termed the "lock-up," was an old, strong building, which had once been used as a smoke-house, but since the erection of a new one, was employed for the very noble purpose of confining negroes. It was a dark, damp place, without a window, and but one low door, through which to enter. In this wretched place, bound and manacled, the poor fugitive was thrust.
"There, you may run off if you ken," said Mr. Peterkin, as he drew the rough door to, and fastened on the padlock with the dignified air of a regularly-installed jailer. "Now, boys, come 'long and git the liquor."
This pleasing announcement seemed to give an additional impetus to the spirits of the servants, and, with many a "ha, ha, ha," they followed their master.
"Well, father," said Miss Jane, whilst she stood beside Mr. Peterkin, who was accurately measuring out a certain quantity of whiskey to the three smiling slaves, who stood holding their tin cups to receive it, "I am glad you succeeded in arresting that audacious runaway. Where did you find her? Who was with her? How did she behave? Oh, tell me all about the adventure; it really does seem funny that such a thing should have occurred in our family; and now that the wretch has been caught, I can afford to laugh at it."
"Wal," answered Mr. Peterkin, as he replaced the cork in the brown jug, and proceeded to lock it up in his private closet, "you does ax the most questions in one breath of any gal I ever seed in all my life. Why, I haint bin in the house five minutes, and you has put more questions to me than a Philadelphy lawyer could answer. 'Pon my soul, Jane, you is a fast 'un."
"Never mind my fastness, father, but tell me what I asked."
"Wal, whar is I to begin? You axed whar Lindy was found? These dogs hunted her to Mr. Farland's barn. Thar they 'gan to smell and snort round and cut up all sorts of capers, and old Nace clumb up to the hay loft, and sung out, in a loud voice, 'Here she am, here she am.' Then I hearn a mighty scrambling and shufflin' up dar, so I jist springed up arter Nace, and thar was the gal, actually fightin' with Nace, who wanted to fetch her right down to the ground whar we was a waitin'. I tells you, now, one right good lick from my powder-horn fetched her all right. She soon seen it was no kind of use to be opposin' of us, and so she jist sot down right willin'. I then fetched several good licks, and she knowed how to do, kase, when I seed I had drawed the blood, I didn't kere to beat her any more. So I ordered her to git down outen that ar' loft quicker than she got up. Then we bound her hands, and driv her long through the woods like a bull. I tells you she was mighty-much 'umbled and shamed; every now and thin she'd blubber out a cryin', but my whup soon shot up her howlin'."
"I've a great notion to go," said Jane, "and torment her a little more, the impudent hussy! I wonder if she thinks we will ever take her back to live with us. She has lost a good home, for she shall not come here any more. I want you to sell her, father, and at the highest price, to a regular trader."