Chapter XX

In the afternoon when the body had been prepared for the grave, the sorrowing friends gathered around, tearfully noting the look of peace and rest which had stolen over the pale, dead face, when all traces of the death agony had passed away by the contraction of the muscles.

“That is just the way she looked yesterday,” said a sad-eyed woman, whose face showed traces of a deep “and fearful sorrow.”

Louis drew near, for he was eager to hear any word that told him of Minnie before death had robbed her of life, and him of peace.  He came near enough to hear, but not to interrupt the conversation.

“She was at my house yesterday, trying to comfort me, when I was telling her how these Secesh used to cruelize us.”

“I was telling her about my poor daughter Amy, and what a sprightly, pert piece she was, and how dem awful Secesh took my poor chile and hung’d her.”

“Hung’d?  Aunt Susan, Oh how was dat?” said half a dozen voices.

“Well, you see it was jist dis way.  My darter Amy was a mighty nice chile, and Massa could truss her wid any ting.  So when de Linkum Sogers had gone through dis place, Massa got her to move some of his tings over to another place.  Now when Amy seed de sojers had cum’d through she was mighty glad, and she said in a kine of childish way, ’I’se so glad, I’m gwine to marry a Linkum soger, and set up house-keeping for myself.’  I don’t spect she wer in arnest ’bout marrying de sojer, but she did want her freedom.  Well, no body couldn’t blame her for dat, for freedom’s a mighty good thing.”

“I don’t like it, I jist loves it,” said one of Aunt Sue’s auditors.

“And I does too, ’cause I’d rather live on bread and water than be back again in de old place, but go on, Aunt Susan.”

“Well, when she said dat, dat miserable old Heston——­”

“Heston, I know dat wretch, I bound de debil’s waiting for him now, got his pitch fork all ready.”

“Well, he had my poor girl tookened up, and poor chile, she was beat shameful, and den dey had her up before der sogers and had her tried for saying ’cendiary words, and den dey had my poor girl hung’d.”  And the poor old woman bowed her head and rocked her body to and fro.

“Well,” she continued after a moment’s pause, “I was telling dat sweet angel dere my trouble, and she was mighty sorry, and sat dere and cried, and den she said, ’Mrs. Thomas, I hope in a better world dat you’ll see a joy according to all the days wherein you have seen sorrow!’ Bless her sweet heart, she’s got in de shining gate afore me, but I bound to meet her on de sunny banks of deliberance.