Back in the kitchen Frederick turned worried eyes on Nada. She gave him one of her rare smiles.
“No worry!” she said. “Yo’ come live by me.”
Jeb was appalled. Frederick had taught him to read, and he regarded the young man with something akin to adoration. That night in their attic room they talked.
“Yo’ gonna run away! Yo’ gonna run away!” All the terrors of pursuing hounds, starvation and dragging chains choked the boy’s voice.
“Hush!” Frederick gripped his shoulder. Then he whispered fiercely, “Do you want to be a slave all your life?”
“No! Oh, Jesus! No!” He began to sob.
“Then keep still—and let me go!”
The boy gulped piteously. He put his mouth close to Frederick’s ear.
“Take me wid yo’, Fred, take me wid yo’! I not feared.” But Frederick pushed him away gently.
“Don’t talk. Wait!”