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“It’s no use； my poor fellow！” she broke out； at last； “it’s of no use； this you’ve been trying to do。 You were a brave fellow；—you had the right on your side； but it’s all in vain； and out of the question； for you to struggle。 You are in the devil’s hands；—he is the strongest； and you must give up！”
Give up！ and； had not human weakness and physical agony whispered that； before？ Tom started； for the bitter woman； with her wild eyes and melancholy voice； seemed to him an embodiment of the temptation with which he had been wrestling。
“O Lord！ O Lord！” he groaned； “how can I give up？”
“There’s no use calling on the Lord；—he never hears；” said the woman； steadily； “there isn’t any God； I believe； or； if there is； he’s taken sides against us。 All goes against us； heaven and earth。 Everything is pushing us into hell。 Why shouldn’t we go？”
Tom closed his eyes； and shuddered at the dark； atheistic words。
“You see；” said the woman； “you don’t know anything about it—I do。 I’ve been on this place five years； body and soul； under this man’s foot； and I hate him as I do the devil！ Here you are； on a lone plantation； ten miles from any other； in the swamps； not a white person here； who could testify； if you were burned alive；—if you were scalded； cut into inch…pieces； set up for the dogs to tear； or hung up and whipped to death。 There’s no law here； of God or man； that can do you； or any one of us； the least good； and； this man！ there’s no earthly thing that he’s too good to do。 I could make any one’s hair rise； and their teeth chatter； if I should only tell what I’ve seen and been knowing to； here；—and it’s no use resisting！ Did I want to live with him？ Wasn’t I a woman delicately bred； and he；—God in heaven！ what was he； and is he？ And yet； I’ve lived with him； these five years； and cursed every moment of my life；—night and day！ And now； he’s got a new one；—a young thing； only fifteen； and she brought up； she says； piously。 Her good mistress taught her to read the Bible； and she’s brought her Bible here—to hell with her！”—and the woman laughed a wild and doleful laugh； that rung； with a strange； supernatural sound； through the old ruined shed。
Tom folded his hands； all was darkness and horror。
“O Jesus！ Lord Jesus！ have you quite forgot us poor critturs？” burst forth； at last；—“help； Lord； I perish！”
The woman sternly continued：
“And what are these miserable low dogs you work with； that you should suffer on their acomount？ Every one of them would turn against you； the first time they got a chance。 They are all of ’em as low and cruel to each other as they can be； there’s no use in your suffering to keep from hurting them。”
“Poor critturs！” said Tom；—“what made ’em cruel？—and； if I give out； I shall get used to ’t； and grow； little by little； just like ’em！ No； no； Missis！ I’ve lost everything；—wife； and children； and home； and a kind Mas’r；—and he would have set me free； if he’d only lived a week longer； I’ve lost everything in this world； and it’s clean gone； forever；—and now I can’t lose Heaven； too； no； I can’t get to be wicked； besides all！”
“But it can’t be that the Lord will lay sin to our acomount；” said the woman； “he won’t charge it to us； when we’re forced to it； he’ll charge it to them that drove us to it。”
“Yes；” said Tom； “but that won’t keep us from growing wicked。 If I get to be as hard…hearted as that ar’ Sambo； and as wicked； it won’t make much odds to me how I come so； it’s the bein’ so；—that ar’s what I’m a dreadin’。”
The woman fixed a wild and startled look on Tom； as if a new thought had struck her； and then； heavily groaning； said；
“O God a’ mercy！ you speak the truth！ O—O—O！”—and； with groans； she fell on the floor； like one crushed and writhing under the extremity of mental anguish。
There was a silence； a while； in which the breathing of both parties could be heard； when Tom faintly said； “O； please； Missis！”
The woman suddenly rose up； with her face composed to its usual stern； melancholy expression。
“Please； Missis； I saw ’em throw my coat in that ar’ corner； and in my coat…pocket is my Bible；—if Missis would please get it for me。”
Cassy went and got it。 Tom opened； at once； to a heavily marked passage； much worn； of the last scenes in the life of Him by whose stripes we are healed。
“If Missis would only be so good as read that ar’；—it’s better than water。”
Cassy took the book； with a dry； proud air； and looked over the passage。 She then read aloud； in a soft voice； and with a beauty of intonation that was peculiar； that touching acomount of anguish and of glory。 Often； as she read； her voice faltered； and sometimes failed her altogether； when she would stop； with an air of frigid composure； till she had mastered herself。 When she came to the touching words； “Father forgive them； for they know not what they do；” she threw down the book； and； burying her face in the heavy masses of her hair； she sobbed aloud； with a convulsive violence。
Tom was weeping； also； and ocomasionally uttering a smothered ejaculation。
“If we only could keep up to that ar’！” said Tom；—“it seemed to come so natural to him； and we have to fight so hard for ’t！ O Lord； help us！ O blessed Lord Jesus； do help us！”
“Missis；” said Tom； after a while； “I can see that； some how； you’re quite ’bove me in everything； but there’s one thing Missis might learn even from poor Tom。 Ye said the Lord took sides against us； because he lets us be ’bused and knocked round； but ye see what come on his own Son；—the blessed Lord of Glory；—wan’t he allays poor？ and have we； any on us； yet come so low as he come？ The Lord han’t forgot us；—I’m sartin’ o’ that ar’。 If we suffer with him； we shall also reign； Scripture says； but； if we deny Him； he also will deny us。 Didn’t they all suffer？—the Lord and all his？ It tells how they was stoned and sawn asunder； and wandered about in sheep…skins and goat…skins； and was destitute； afflicted； tormented。 Sufferin’ an’t no reason to make us think the Lord’s turned agin us； but jest the contrary； if only we hold on to him； and doesn’t give up to sin。”
“But why does he put us where we can’t help but sin？” said the woman。
“I think we can help it；” said Tom。
“You’ll see；” said Cassy； “what’ll you do？ Tomorrow they’ll be at you again。 I know ’em； I’ve seen all their doings； I can’t bear to think of all they’ll bring you to；—and they’ll make you give out； at last！”
“Lord Jesus！” said Tom； “you will take care of my soul？ O Lord； do！—don’t let me give out！”
“O dear！” said Cassy； “I’ve heard all this crying and praying before； and yet； they’ve been broken down； and brought under。 There’s Emmeline； she’s trying to hold on； and you’re trying；—but what use？ You must give up； or be killed by inches。”
“Well； then； I will die！” said Tom。 “Spin it out as long as they can； they can’t help my dying； some time！—and； after that； they can’t do no more。 I’m clar； I’m set！ I know the Lord’ll help me； and bring me through。”
The woman did not answer； she sat with her black eyes intently fixed on the floor。
“May be it’s the way；” she murmured to herself； “but those that have given up； there’s no hope for them！—none！ We live in filth； and grow loathsome； till we loathe ourselves！ And we long to die； and we don’t dare to kill ourselves！—No hope！ no hope！ no hope？—this girl now；—just as old as I was！
“You see me now；” she said； speaking to Tom very rapidly； “see what I am！ Well； I was brought up in luxury； the first I remember is； playing about； when I was a child； in splendid parlors；—when I was kept dressed up like a doll； and company and visitors used to praise me。 There was a garden opening from the saloon windows； and there I used to play hide…and…go…seek； under the orange…trees； with my brothers and sisters。 I went to a convent； and there I learned music； French and embroidery； and what not； and when I was fourteen； I came out to my father’s funeral。 He died very suddenly； and when the property came to be settled； they found that there was scarcely enough to cover the debts； and when the creditors took an inventory of the