Ben, too, is there, ostensibly as an overseer, but really as a valued friend, free to do whatever he pleases, and greatly esteemed by those whom he worships with a devotion bordering upon idolatry. Everything pertaining to the place he calls his, and Frederic hardly knows whether himself or Ben is the master of Redstone Hall. The negroes acknowledge them both, though, as is quite natural, the aristocratic Higginses give the preference to Frederic, while the democratic Smitherses, with stammering Josh at their head, warmly advocate Marster Ben, “as sayin’ the curisest things and singin’ the drollest songs.”
There is no spot in the world where Ben could be so supremely happy as he is at Redstone Hall, with Marian and Alice; and when Frederic, on his return from Ohio, suggested his remaining there, he evinced his delight in his usual way, lamenting the while that his extremely tender heart would always make him cry just when he did not wish to.
“I was never cut out for a nigger driver,” he said; “but I guess I can coax as much out of ’em as that blusterin’ Warren did;” and making his visit short, he hastened back to New England, where he found no difficulty of disposing of his grocery, and five of his numerous family.
These last he bestowed upon different people in the village, taking great care that none of them should go where there were children, and numerous were his injunctions that they should be well cared for, and suffered to die a natural death. Marian and Alice were destined for Kentucky, where they were welcomed joyfully by those whose names they bore. Particularly was the white one, with its bright, sightless eyes, the pet of the entire household, negroes and all; while even Bruno, who, on account of his recognition of Marian, was now allowed more liberty than before, and was consequently far less savage, took kindly to the little creature, tossing it up in his huge paws, licking its snowy face, and sometimes coaxing it into his kennel, where it was more than once found by the delighted Alice, sleeping half hidden under the mastiff’s shaggy mane.
Frequently on bright days could Alice and her kitten be seen seated in a miniature waggon, which the Yankee ingenuity of Ben had devised, and in which he drew his blind pets from field to field, seeking out for them the shadiest spot and watching all their movements with a vigilance which told how dear to him was one of them at least. In all the wide world there is nothing Ben Burt loves half so well as the helpless blind girl, Alice—not as he loved Marian Grey, but with a tender, unselfish devotion, which would prompt him at any time to lay down his life for her, if it need must be. All the fairest flowers and choicest fruits are brought to her. And when he sees how she enjoys them, and how grateful she is to him, he murmurs softly:
“Blessed bird, I b’lieve I’d be blind myself, if she could only see.”
But Alice does not care for sight, except at times, when she hears the people speak of Mrs. Raymond’s beauty, and she wishes she could look upon the face whose praises so many ring. Still she is very happy in Frederic’s and Marian’s love, and happy, too, with her faithful friend, around whose neck she often twines her arms, blessing him for all he was to Marian and all he is to her.
Once she hoped to improve his peculiar dialect somewhat by imparting to him a greater knowledge of books than he already possessed, and Ben, willing to gratify her, waded industriously through the many volumes she recommended him to read, among which was “Watts on the Mind.” But vain were all his efforts to grasp a single idea, and he returned it to Alice, saying that “he presumed it was a very excitin’ story to some, but blamed if he could make out a word of sense from beginnin’ to finis.”
“‘Taint much use tryin’ to make a scholar of me,” said he, winking slyly at Marian, who was present. “It’s hard enough teachin’ old dogs new tricks, and if I’s to read all there is in the Squire’s library, I shouldn’t be no better off.”
Marian thought so, too, and she dropped a few well-timed hints to Alice, who gradually relaxed her efforts to teach one who, had he been educated, would certainly not have been the simple-hearted, unselfish man we now know as Ben Burt.