'No, I don't—not just now.'
'If you could satisfy your outside creditors that things were likely to go better with you in future, could you put off the payment of the three thousand dollars for a time?' I asked.
'I reckon I could—nearly all of it,' replied Preston.
'Well, then, I'll make you a proposition. Buy ten thousand acres on the line of the Manchester railroad. It is finished to Whitesville, and you can buy land within twenty miles of that station, at seventy-five cents an acre. We'll advance the twenty per cent. you'll have to pay down, and five hundred dollars more to start you there, and hold the deed of the land to secure us. Ship your produce to us, and agree to forfeit the land, if, at the end of three years, you have not paid all the original advance. Move your stills, and your able-bodied men and women there, leaving the old and the young negroes here to raise corn and cotton. Hire fifty more prime hands, and put Joe over the whole, with unlimited power to work them to death if he pleases.'
Preston leaned his head on his hand, as if bewildered. He seemed not to understand me, but Joe's face lighted as if a stream of electricity were playing under his dark skin. Mrs. Preston was the first to speak. Rising and taking my hand, she said: 'Robert will do it, Mr. Kirke; and how can we ever thank you enough for your generous—your noble conduct toward us? You have taken a weary load off our hearts.'
'It is a simple business transaction, madam; I expect to make money by it. I insist on your husband's consigning his produce to us, and I shall require the forfeit of the land and the improvements, if he does not pay our advances within three years.'
'We kin pay 'em in one year, an' you knows it, sar!' exclaimed Joe, springing to his feet, and almost dancing around the room. 'Come, master Robert, look up, an' tell 'im we'll do it, for ole Joe'll make de chips fly as you neber seed 'em fly afore.'
Preston looked up, and a tear rolled down his face, as he said, 'I thank you, my friend. I need not say more.'
'You need not say that; only buy the land, and make Joe autocrat of the new plantation, and your bacon is cured.'
'Joe'll show you how bacon am cured, Mr. Kirke, an' he'll name his fuss boy af'er you—shore!' shouted the black, grinning all over.