The Kidnapped And The Ransomed Part 9

As many as could be sold at private sale were thus disposed of.

That was better than to be put up at auction, where they might fall into the hands of traders, and thus become so widely scattered that they could never more hear from each other.

Vina was the first of all the number to be sold. She had been hired out as a nurse for two or three years, and was now in the service of Mrs. Smith, at the hotel in Courtland.

It was Sunday morning, and Aunt Sally was coming in that day from the plantation, to see her children. Vina had dressed the baby, and was just finis.h.i.+ng the arranging of her mistress' room, when Dr. P--, of Courtland, entered.

"Your name is Vina," said he, "and you belong to Mr. Foxall?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, I have bought you, and you must be ready to go with me in an hour."

He left the room, and Vina gazed after him like one bewildered. It was so sudden, only one hour, and her mother had not yet come.

She looked up the street. There was no one in sight that cared for her. A thought struck her. She would go and see her master, and learn from his own lips her fate. She would beg him to let her stay till her mother should come; she could not go away without bidding her "Good-bye."

Mr. Foxall lived in the village, in a large brick house, near the hotel. Thither the excited girl ran. "Is Ma.s.s'r in the house?" asked she of the first servant that she met.

"I reckon so; I aint seen him gwine out."

But the master, well-nigh broken hearted at the necessity of parting with his servants, could not be found. Vina ran through the house, searching every room that was unlocked. He had expected this, and he could not bear to meet her, after he had sold her to a stranger.

The poor girl returned to the hotel. She had learned from some of the servants that Dr. P. had not bought her for himself; but that, being indebted to Mr. McKiernan, of Franklin county, and his former partner, Mr. Stout, of Nashville, he had, at their request, bought her and a young girl named Rosetta, for them.

With an aching heart, she stood watching for her mother. There was no tear in her eye, and her features were fixed and rigid. Ah Sally! Came there no spirit-voice to thee, bidding thee hasten to thy child, whose heart was breaking?

"Ready, girl?" shouted a coa.r.s.e voice. "Come! can't wait. Bring along your traps, if you've got any, but you can't take a big bundle, seein' there's two on you to ride."

Vina gazed a moment at the speaker, an ill-looking young man on horseback, and then, seeing that Rosetta stood by his side, holding another horse by the bridle, she silently picked up the little bundle she had prepared, and went out. One long look she cast up the street, with a faint hope that she might yet see her mother's form approaching.

That hope was vain. She saw many happy mothers with their children, walking to the house of G.o.d; and maidens of her own age tripped by, unconscious alike of grief and care. No tearful pitying eye rested upon her face, no heart sighed at the utter desolation of her hopes.

She mounted the horse mechanically, as one in a dream; and Rosetta sprang up behind her.

Silently, hour after hour, they followed their rough guide. Now, blooming fields, on either side, smiled on them as they pa.s.sed; and then, their road crept through thick gloomy woods, that hid the darkness in their shadowy depths through all the bright Spring days.

CHAPTER XI.

VINA'S FIRST YEAR AT McKIERNAN'S.

LATE in the evening, the two young maidens reached their destination, and were conducted to the kitchen. Bashfully they crept into the darkest corner, while curious eyes stared at them from every side, and wondering whispers pa.s.sed from lip to lip.

The cook alone seemed not surprised at the arrival of the strangers, but with a wise look that well became her elevated station, bade them come closer to the fire; for "'Pears like," said she, "de evenin's sort o' cold. Missus 'll be home to-reckly; she went to Tusc.u.mby to church, to-day, wid her sister, Miss 'Muthis. Dar, warm yerself, honey, you looks sort o' chilly like," continued the old woman, as she drew Rosetta towards the blazing fire, at which she was preparing supper.

Rosetta had left neither father nor mother behind, and though she was sad at leaving her young companions, and above all, her master, whom she almost adored, yet these slight regrets soon subsided, and she readily glided into conversation, with the new a.s.sociates to whom she had been so unceremoniously presented.

The iron had not entered her soul.

But Vina crept further back into her shadowed corner, where, heedless of the numerous visitors that love to a.s.semble on Sunday evening in a planter's kitchen, she yielded to the influence of her desponding thoughts. Yet no tear moistened her eye-lid, no sob gave vent to the choking anguish of her heart.

"Missis come: say, bring in supper;" said a young girl, appearing for a moment at the kitchen door.

Supper was carried in, and, one by one, the dark visitors to the kitchen went out; some to prepare their own scant evening meals, and others to collect again in little groups for confidential chat.

"Hi! dem's nice gals in yon!" said the tallest in one of those groups--a kind hearted fellow, that had pitied the confusion of the young strangers.

"Not over an' above nice, I reckon; dat little un's sort o' fa'r, but t'other looks like she don't know nuthin'. She aint much 'count, no how."

"You don't know 'bout dat dar, " rejoined the first speaker, "she mought 'a' lef '--her sweetheart--'way yon'--pears like she feels mighty bad."

"Missus say, come in de house; she want to see what ye all looks like;" cried the same young girl at the kitchen door.

"Dar, go 'long honey," said the old cook, as she drew Vina from the shaded corner, and placed her beside Rosetta. "Hol' up yer heads now, children, and look peart like when ye goes in to see Missus; go 'long."

"De Lor' help 'em, poor little critters," sighed the kind old woman, as she watched them from the kitchen door, "dey's got a she wolf to deal wid now. 'Pears like dey aint used to hard times, no how, but n.o.body cant say dat dar 'bout em, arter dey's done staid on dis yer place one year."

Timidly the two girls advanced into the presence of their future mistress. She fixed her keen cold eyes on them for a moment, and then addressed herself to Vina.

"What can you do, girl?"

"I's been used to nursin', ma'am, and waitin' in the house."

"Did you never work in the field?"

"No, ma'am."

"Ah! you've been raised quite a lady! Can you round corn?"*

* Weeding around the hills.

"I don't know what that is, ma'am."

"Can you chop through cotton?"**

** Thinning the cotton by removing all superfluous stalks, so as to leave only enough for a stand.

"No, ma'am."

"You're such a lady, I suppose you never saw any cotton grow."

"Yes ma'am, I's seen a plenty of cotton a growin', but I never worked it."

Mr. McKiernan then approached, and unfastening her frock behind, examined her back. "Have you ever been whipped?" asked he.

"No, Sir."

"So I thought, your back is as smooth as mine."