Daph’s meditations were interrupted by the sudden turning of the key in the lock, and then the door of the small room was thrown open to admit the entrance of a stranger.
The new-comer was a short, stout, elderly man, with a dignified bearing, and a calm, kindly expression in his round unfurrowed face.
Daph looked at him from his powdered head, to his white-topped boots, with entire satisfaction. “He do be a real gemman, and dat ’s a comfort,” she said to herself, as she dropped a curtsy, and waited to be addressed by the stranger.
Daph’s favorable impressions were increased by the mild manner and clear voice in which she was addressed. She soon felt sufficiently at ease to comply with the request made by the gentleman, that she would tell him, frankly, all that she could remember of her life for the last few years, and explain how she, a poor negro, came in possession of jewelry fit for a duchess to wear.
Daph began in her own simple way, and described those pleasant home scenes on that far Southern island. Her heart grew light at the thought of the happy family circle in those good old times. It was with difficulty she brought herself to speak of the sudden destruction with which that home was threatened. She touched but lightly on her own efforts to save the little ones, when there was no earthly friend, but herself, between them and a bloody death.
From time to time her listener questioned her suddenly; but she answered him with such apparent frankness and simplicity, that he felt ashamed of the momentary suspicions that had crossed his mind.
When Daph came, in the progress of her story, to the captain’s late visit, and to the day of dark, hopeless despair that followed it, the eyes that were fixed upon her, slowly filled with tears.
Those tears suddenly gushed forth, as with the eloquence of a grateful heart Daph described the face, like that of an angel, that bent over her in her distress, and told of the Saviour, who is the friend of the sinner, and the comfort of all that mourn.
“God bless my sweet Rose!” murmured the stranger. “This was an errand of mercy, indeed!” After a moment’s pause, he added aloud, “You need say no more, Daph;” and, as he spoke, he put out his hand to take that of the humble negro.
She did not notice the movement; for she had lowered her eyes as she dropped her modest curtsy, and relapsed into silence.