Sea and Shore: A Sequel to "Miriam's Memoirs"Warfield, Catherine A. (Catherine Ann)
General
Sea and Shore: A Sequel to "Miriam's Memoirs"
Warfield, Catherine A. (Catherine Ann)
Fiction
Once, during the temporary illness of this dragon (whose bed or lair was
placed absolutely across the door of egress from her closet, so as to
block the way or make it difficult of access), the creole, in an
unavoidable contingency like this, came with a pile of clothing in her
arms to lay the pieces herself in the bureau, by direction of my jailer,
and thus revealed herself.
By the merest accident I had found in the lining of my purse two pieces
of gold (the rest of my money had been spirited away with the belt that
contained it, or the leather had been destroyed by the action of the
saltwater), and one of these I hastened to bestow on the attendant,
signifying silence by a gesture as I did so.
I knew this wretch to be wholly selfish and mercenary, from my
experience of her on the raft--for that she was the same negress I had
long ceased to doubt--and I determined, while I had an opportunity of
doing so, to enter a wedge of confidence between us in the only possible
way.
"Sabra," I whispered, "what became of the young girl, Ada Lee, and the
deformed child? It surely can do no harm to tell me this, and I know you
understand me perfectly."
"No, honey, sartinly not; 'sides, I is tired out of speakin' Spanish,"
in low, mumbling accents. "Well, den, dat young gal gone to 'tend on
Mrs. Raymond, and, as fur de chile, dey pays me to take kear of dat in
dis very house ware you is disposed of. Dat boy gits me a heap of
trouble and onrest of nights, dough, I tells you, honey; but I is well
paid, and dey all has der reasons for letting him stay here, I
spec'"--shaking her head sagaciously--"dough dey may be disappinted yit,
when de time comes to testify and swar! De biggest price will carry de
day den, chile; I tells you all," eying the gold held closely in her
palm.
I caught eagerly at the idea of the child's presence, though the rest
was Greek to my comprehension until long afterward, when, in untangling
a chain of iniquity difficult to match, it formed one important but
additional link.
"Poor little Ernie! I would give so much to see him," I said. "Ask Dr.
Englehart to let him come to see me, Sabra, and some day I will reward
you"--all this in the faintest whisper. "But Mrs. Raymond--where is she?
Does she never come here? I desire earnestly to speak with her. Can't
you let her know this? Try, Sabra, for humanity's sake."
At this juncture the head of Mrs. Clayton was thrust forth from its
shell, turtle-wise, and appeared peering at the door-cheek.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account