“Surely, Hiram, you are a better husbandman than Mr. Hardinge and myself put together, and cannot want the advice of either to tell you how to raise corn, or to get in hay!”

“Dat berry true, sah—­so true, I wont deny him.  But, you know how it be, Masser Mile; a nigger do lub to talk, and it help along work won’erfully, to get a good dispute, afore he begin.”

As respects the blacks, this was strictly true.  Though as respectful as slavery and habit could make them, they were so opinionated and dogmatical, each in his or her sphere, that nothing short of a downright assertion of authority could produce submission to any notions but their own.  They loved to argue the different points connected with their several duties, but they did not like to be convinced.  Mr. Hardinge would discuss with them, from a sense of duty, and he would invariably yield, unless in cases that involved moral principles.  On all such points, and they were not of unfrequent occurrence in a family of so many blacks, he was as inflexible as the laws of the Medes and Persians; but, as respected the wheat, the potatoes, the orchards, the mill, or the sloop, he usually submitted to the experience of those more familiar with the business, after having discussed the matters in council.  This rendered him exceedingly popular at Clawbonny, the persuaded usually having the same sort of success in the world as a good listener.  As for the rector himself, after so many long discussions, he began to think he had actually influenced the different steps adopted; the cause of one of the illusions I have already pourtrayed.

Old Hiram did not quit me when he came for instructions alias a “dispute,” without a word of inquiry touching Grace I could see that the alarm had passed among the slaves, and it was quite touching to note the effect it produced on their simple minds.  It would have been sufficient for them to love her, that Grace was their young mistress; but such a mistress as she had ever been, and one so winning in manner and person, they might be said almost to worship her.

“I berry sorry to hear Miss Grace be onwell, sah,” said old Hiram, looking at me sorrowfully.  “It go hard wid us all, if anyt’ing happen dere!  I alway s’pose, Masser Mile, dat Miss Grace and Masser Rupert come togeder, some time; as we all expects you and Miss Lucy will.  Dem are happy days, sah, at Clawbonny, for den we all know our new masser and new missus from de cradle.  No, no—­we can nebber spare Miss Grace, sah; even I should miss her in ’e field!”

The very blacks had observed the state of things which had deluded my poor sister; and the slave had penetrated his master’s secret.  I turned away abruptly from the negro, lest he should also detect the evidence of the weakness extorted by his speech, from the eyes of manhood.

Chapter VI.

                          —­“Like the lily
  That once was mistress of the field, and flourished,
  I’ll hang my head, and perish.”