The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 12, No. 73, November, 1863: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and PoliticsVarious
History
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 12, No. 73, November, 1863: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
Various
American periodicals
in Divine Omnipotence,--
"Do you believe, if I let Marster Ned live, the Lord will give me back
my Lucy?"
"As surely as there is a Lord, you will find her here or in the
beautiful hereafter, where there is no black or white, no master and no
slave."
He took his hand from his brother's throat, lifted his eyes from my face
to the wintry sky beyond, as if searching for that blessed country,
happier even than the happy North. Alas, it was the darkest hour before
the dawn!--there was no star above, no light below but the pale glimmer
of the lamp that showed the brother who had made him desolate. Like a
blind man who believes there is a sun, yet cannot see it, he shook his
head, let his arms drop nervelessly upon his knees, and sat there dumbly
asking that question which many a soul whose faith is firmer fixed than
his has asked in hours less dark than this,--"Where is God?" I saw the
tide had turned, and strenuously tried to keep this rudderless life-boat
from slipping back into the whirlpool wherein it had been so nearly
lost.
"I have listened to you, Robert; now hear me, and heed what I say,
because my heart is full of pity for you, full of hope for your future,
and a desire to help you now. I want you to go away from here, from the
temptation of this place, and the sad thoughts that haunt it. You have
conquered yourself once, and I honor you for it, because, the harder the
battle, the more glorious the victory; but it is safer to put a greater
distance between you and this man. I will write you letters, give you
money, and send you to good old Massachusetts to begin your new life a
freeman,--yes, and a happy man; for when the captain is himself again, I
will learn where Lucy is, and move heaven and earth to find and give her
back to you. Will you do this, Robert?"
Slowly, very slowly, the answer came; for the purpose of a week, perhaps
a year, was hard to relinquish in an hour.
"Yes, Ma'am, I will."
"Good! Now you are the man I thought you, and I'll work for you with all
my heart. You need sleep, my poor fellow; go, and try to forget. The
captain is still alive, and as yet you are spared that sin. No, don't
look there; I'll care for him. Come, Robert, for Lucy's sake."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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