"It's Pringle Blowers, I do believe in my soul! but it's
seeming strange how he's got a lady to ride with him," mused the
man, who, still watching the approach, had quite forgotten the
escape of the fair slave. The man was not mistaken, for as he
touched his hat, on the carriage arriving opposite the gate, it
halted, and there, sure enough, was our valiant democrat, who,
placing his whip in the socket, crooked his finger and beckoned the
keeper. "Broadman!" said he, (for that was the man's name) "I'ze a
bit of something in your way of business this morning." The honest
functionary, with seeming surprise, again touching his hat as he
approached the vehicle, replied: "Your servant, sir!" Blowers
motioned his hand to the woman, whose tears were now, to Broadman's
surprise, seen coursing down her pale cheeks. To use a vulgar
phrase, Broadman was entirely "taken aback" by the singularity of
Blowers' manner; for the woman, whose dress and deportment the
honest man conceived to be nothing less than that of a lady of one
of the "first families," obeying the motion, began to descend from
the carriage. "Now, Broadman," continued Blowers, arranging his
reins, and with clumsy air making his descent over the fore wheels,
"take that 'ar wench o' mine, and, by the State's custom, give her
the extent of the law, well laid on."
The author here writes the incident as given by the prison-keeper.
The man hesitated, as if doubting his senses; rather would he have
been courteous to what he still viewed as a lady, than extend his
rude hand to lead her away.
Pages:
777
778
779
780
781
782
783
784
785
786
787
788
789
790
791
792
793
794
795
796
797
798
799
800
801