“What, does this Mr. Robbem carry on the Deacon’s old business?” inquired Mr. Bright.

“Yes, Massa,” replied Tulee.  “Two years ago, Massa Stillham come down to Caroliny to spend the winter, and he was round in the slave-pen as brisk as Massa Robbem, counting the niggers, and telling how many dollars they ought to sell for.  He had a dreadful bad fever while he was down there, and I nursed him.  He was out of his head half the time, and he was calling out:  ’Going! going!  How much for this likely nigger?  Stop that wench’s squalling for her brat!  Carry the brat off!’ It was dreadful to hear him.”

“I suppose he calculated upon going to heaven if he died,” rejoined Mr. Bright; “and if he’d gone into the kingdom with such words in his mouth, it would have been a heavenly song for the four-and-twenty elders to accompany with their golden harps.”

“They’ll sell my Benny,” groaned Tulee; “and then I shall never see him again.”

“I have no doubt Mr. King will obtain your children,” replied Mr. Bright; “and you should remember that, if you go back South, just as likely as not they will sell him where you will never see him or hear from him.”

“I know it, Massa, I know it,” answered she.

“I am not your master,” rejoined he.  “I allow no man to call me master, and certainly not any woman; though I don’t belong to the chivalry.”

His prediction proved true.  The Deacon and his son-in-law held frequent consultations.  “This Mr. King is rich as Croesus,” said the Deacon; “and if he thinks his wife owes a debt to Tulee, he’ll be willing to give a round sum for her children.  I reckon you can make a better bargain with him than you could in the New Orleans market.”

“Do you suppose he’d give five thousand dollars for the young niggers?” inquired the trader.

“Try him,” said the Deacon.

The final result was that the sum was deposited by Mr. King, to be paid over whenever Tulee’s children made their appearance; and in due time they all arrived.  Tulee was full of joy and gratitude; but Mr. Bright always maintained it was a sin and a shame to pay slave-traders so much for what never belonged to them.

Of course there were endless questions to be asked and answered between the sisters and their faithful servant; but all she could tell threw no further light on the destiny of the little changeling whom she supposed to be Rosa’s own child.  In the course of these private conversations, it came out that she herself had suffered, as all women must suffer, who have the feelings of human beings, and the treatment of animals.  But her own humble little episode of love and separation, of sorrow and shame, was whispered only to Missy Rosy and Missy Flory.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

The probability that the lost child was alive and in slavery was a very serious complication of existing difficulties.  Thinking it prudent to prepare Gerald’s mind for any contingencies that might occur, Mr. King proceeded immediately to Boston to have a conference with him.  The young man received the news with unexpected composure.