“Yes, I longed for it greatly for twenty years, and so did he, poor fellow; but, after that, hope died. I have now no hope, no joy in life, no expectation of aught. Presently will come death, and death ends all.”
“No, Blanda; that is not what we hold. We look for eternal life.”
“For masters, not for slaves.”
“For slaves as well as masters, and then God will wipe away all tears from our eyes.”
“Alack, mistress. The power to hope is gone from me. In a wet season, when there is little sun, then the fruit mildews on the tree and drops off. When we were young we put forth the young fruit of hopes; but there has been no sun. They fall off, and the tree can bear no more.”
“Blanda, if ever I have the power——”
“Oh, mistress, with my master you can do anything.”
“Blanda, I do not know that I can ask him for this—thy freedom. But, if the opportunity offers, I certainly will not forget thee.”
A slave appeared at the door and signed to Blanda, who, with an obeisance, asked leave to depart. The leave was given, and she left the room.
Presently she returned in great excitement, followed by Baudillas and Pedo, both drenched with rain and battered by the gale.