"My soul!" Roxy added, "if poor Mr. Wonnell could set me free, I think I
might pity him enough to be his wife."
Samson used his opportunity to stretch out his hand and take Virgie's,
while she indulged the wild dream.
"Dis han' is too purty," he said, "to be worn by a slave. Let me make it
free."
She turned away, but the negro had been a wise lover, and his plea
pierced home, and it struck the Caucasian fatherhood of the bright
quadroon.
"Freedom is mos' all I got," the negro continued; "it's wuth everything
but love, Virgie. Dat you got. Maybe we can swap' em and let me be yo'
slave."
"Don't, don't!" pleaded Virgie, pulling her hand very gently. "I'm
afeard of you; you clean the Bad Man's hat."
CHAPTER XX.
CASTE WITHOUT TONE.
Judge Custis was well out of town, riding to the north, when the little
reading-circle assembled, without his patronage, over the old store, and
the young minister directed it. In the warm afternoon the windows were
raised till Milburn's chill began to set in again, and they could hear
the mocking-bird, in his tree, tantalizing the great shaggy dog Turk by
whistling to him,
"Wsht! wsht! Come, sir! come, sir! Sic 'em! sic 'em! wh-i-it! sic 'em,
Turk! wsht! wh-i-i-t! Sirrah! Ha! ha!"
Turk would run a little way, run back, see nobody, watch all the windows
of the store, and finally he seemed to think the spot was haunted, or
unreliable in some way; for he would next run to the open store door,
and bark, run back, and, from a distance, watch the hollow dark within,
as if a vague enemy lived there, mocking his obedient nature and keeping
his mistress captive.
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