"Oh, Mas'r Louis!" and he grasped both his hands; "de Lord help this ole nigger to pay you. I's willin' to work dese fingers clean to de bone."
Our two boys got on bravely. The first Saturday night we sent them home with loaded baskets, and each with a pail of new milk, which we knew would be a treat to the children, and in their little purses the amount promised by Louis. Matthias took them to their homes, and Louis went for them on Monday morning, and when he returned he said:
"The pictures are growing, Emily. Bright eyes and rosy cheeks will come soon."
Mr. and Mrs. Waterman were leaving us. We were kissing "our baby" good-bye. How we disliked to say the word! And when looking back at Matthias after we started, she cried, "Mah, mah!" I laughed and cried together. Louis and I parted with them reluctantly at the depot, and our last words were:
"Send John right along."
"We will," they answered, as the train rode away and baby Allie pressed her shining face against the window. It was only two weeks and two days from that day that Louis, Clara and I (she said after our marriage "Call me Clara, for we are sisters—never say 'mother Desmonde;' to say mother when you have such a blessed one of your own is robbery to her") drove to the depot to meet John. Matthias said to us,
"You go fur him, ef you please, fur I can never meet him in de crowd; I want to wait by de road an' see him cum along. Mighty feared I'll make a noony o' myself."
The train stopped, and Louis left us in the carriage and went to find him. My heart jumped as I thought he might not be there, but ere I had time to say it to Clara, he came in sight, walking proudly erect by the side of Louis, as handsome a colored man as could be seen. He was quite light, tall as Louis, and well proportioned, his mouth pleasantly shaped and not large, his nose suited to a Greek rather than to a negro, and over his forehead, which was broad and full, black hair fell in tight-curling rings,—resembling Matthias in nothing save perhaps his eyes. It did not seem possible this could be a man coming from the power of a master—how I dislike that term, a slave—this noble looking fellow; I shuddered involuntarily, and grasped his hand in welcome with a fervent "God bless you, John; I welcome you heartily." Clara stretched forth her little hand also, saying:
"John, you can never know how glad we are." He stood with his hat raised, and his large beautiful eyes turned toward us filled with feeling as he answered:
"Ladies, you can never realize the debt I have to pay you. It seems a dream that I am here, a free man with an old father waiting to see his son; oh, sir," and he turned to Louis, "my heart is full!"