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uietly；—I hates all kind of agitation and fluster。” And so； after a transfer of certain bills had passed from the man’s pocket…book to the trader’s； he resumed his cigar。
It was a bright； tranquil evening when the boat stopped at the wharf at Louisville。 The woman had been sitting with her baby in her arms； now wrapped in a heavy sleep。 When she heard the name of the place called out； she hastily laid the child down in a little cradle formed by the hollow among the boxes； first carefully spreading under it her cloak； and then she sprung to the side of the boat； in hopes that； among the various hotel…waiters who thronged the wharf； she might see her husband。 In this hope； she pressed forward to the front rails； and； stretching far over them； strained her eyes intently on the moving heads on the shore； and the crowd pressed in between her and the child。
“Now’s your time；” said Haley； taking the sleeping child up； and handing him to the stranger。 “Don’t wake him up； and set him to crying； now； it would make a devil of a fuss with the gal。” The man took the bundle carefully； and was soon lost in the crowd that went up the wharf。
When the boat； creaking； and groaning； and puffing； had loosed from the wharf； and was beginning slowly to strain herself along； the woman returned to her old seat。 The trader was sitting there；—the child was gone！
“Why； why；—where？” she began； in bewildered surprise。
“Lucy；” said the trader； “your child’s gone； you may as well know it first as last。 You see； I know’d you couldn’t take him down south； and I got a chance to sell him to a first…rate family； that’ll raise him better than you can。”
The trader had arrived at that stage of Christian and political perfection which has been recommended by some preachers and politicians of the north； lately； in which he had completely overcome every humane weakness and prejudice。 His heart was exactly where yours； sir； and mine could be brought； with proper effort and cultivation。 The wild look of anguish and utter despair that the woman cast on him might have disturbed one less practised； but he was used to it。 He had seen that same look hundreds of times。 You can get used to such things； too； my friend； and it is the great object of recent efforts to make our whole northern community used to them； for the glory of the Union。 So the trader only regarded the mortal anguish which he saw working in those dark features； those clenched hands； and suffocating breathings； as necessary incidents of the trade； and merely calculated whether she was going to scream； and get up a commotion on the boat； for； like other supporters of our peculiar institution； he decidedly disliked agitation。
But the woman did not scream。 The shot had passed too straight and direct through the heart； for cry or tear。
Dizzily she sat down。 Her slack hands fell lifeless by her side。 Her eyes looked straight forward； but she saw nothing。 All the noise and hum of the boat； the groaning of the machinery； mingled dreamily to her bewildered ear； and the poor； dumb…stricken heart had neither cry not tear to show for its utter misery。 She was quite calm。
The trader； who； considering his advantages； was almost as humane as some of our politicians； seemed to feel called on to administer such consolation as the case admitted of。
“I know this yer comes kinder hard； at first； Lucy；” said he； “but such a smart； sensible gal as you are； won’t give way to it。 You see it’s necessary； and can’t be helped！”
“O！ don’t； Mas’r； don’t！” said the woman； with a voice like one that is smothering。
“You’re a smart wench； Lucy；” he persisted； “I mean to do well by ye； and get ye a nice place down river； and you’ll soon get another husband；—such a likely gal as you—”
“O！ Mas’r； if you only won’t talk to me now；” said the woman； in a voice of such quick and living anguish that the trader felt that there was something at present in the case beyond his style of operation。 He got up； and the woman turned away； and buried her head in her cloak。
The trader walked up and down for a time； and ocomasionally stopped and looked at her。
“Takes it hard； rather；” he soliloquized； “but quiet； tho’；—let her sweat a while； she’ll come right； by and by！”
Tom had watched the whole transaction from first to last； and had a perfect understanding of its results。 To him； it looked like something unutterably horrible and cruel； because； poor； ignorant black soul！ he had not learned to generalize； and to take enlarged views。 If he had only been instructed by certain ministers of Christianity； he might have thought better of it； and seen in it an every…day incident of a lawful trade； a trade which is the vital suport of an institution which an American divine3 tells us has “no evils but such as are inseparable from any other relations in social and domestic life。” But Tom； as we see； being a poor； ignorant fellow； whose reading had been confined entirely to the New Testament； could not comfort and solace himself with views like these。 His very soul bled within him for what seemed to him the wrongs of the poor suffering thing that lay like a crushed reed on the boxes； the feeling； living； bleeding； yet immortal thing； which American state law coolly classes with the bundles； and bales； and boxes； among which she is lying。
Tom drew near； and tried to say something； but she only groaned。 Honestly； and with tears running down his own cheeks； he spoke of a heart of love in the skies； of a pitying Jesus； and an eternal home； but the ear was deaf with anguish； and the palsied heart could not feel。
Night came on；—night calm； unmoved； and glorious； shining down with her innumerable and solemn angel eyes； twinkling； beautiful； but silent。 There was no speech nor language； no pitying voice or helping hand； from that distant sky。 One after another； the voices of business or pleasure died away； all on the boat were sleeping； and the ripples at the prow were plainly heard。 Tom stretched himself out on a box； and there； as he lay； he heard； ever and anon； a smothered sob or cry from the prostrate creature；—“O！ what shall I do？ O Lord！ O good Lord； do help me！” and so； ever and anon； until the murmur died away in silence。
At midnight； Tom waked； with a sudden start。 Something black passed quickly by him to the side of the boat； and he heard a splash in the water。 No one else saw or heard anything。 He raised his head；—the woman’s place was vacant！ He got up； and sought about him in vain。 The poor bleeding heart was still； at last； and the river rippled and dimpled just as brightly as if it had not closed above it。
Patience！ patience！ ye whose hearts swell indignant at wrongs like these。 Not one throb of anguish； not one tear of the oppressed； is forgotten by the Man of Sorrows； the Lord of Glory。 In his patient； generous bosom he bears the anguish of a world。 Bear thou； like him； in patience； and labor in love； for sure as he is God； “the year of his redeemed shall come。”
The trader waked up bright and early； and came out to see to his live stock。 It was now his turn to look about in perplexity。
“Where alive is that gal？” he said to Tom。
Tom； who had learned the wisdom of keeping counsel； did not feel called upon to state his observations and suspicions； but said he did not know。
“She surely couldn’t have got off in the night at any of the landings； for I was awake； and on the lookout； whenever the boat stopped。 I never trust these yer things to other folks。”
This speech was addressed to Tom quite confidentially； as if it was something that would be specially interesting to him。 Tom made no answer。
The trader searched the boat from stem to stern； among boxes； bales and barrels； around the machinery； by the chimneys； in vain。
“Now； I say； Tom； be fair about this yer；” he said； when； after a fruitless search； he came where Tom was standing。 “You know something about it； now。 Don’t tell me；—I know you do。 I saw the gal stretched out here about ten o’clock； and ag’in at twelve； and ag’in between one and two； and then at four she was gone； and you was a sleeping right there all the time。 Now； you know something；—you can’t help it。”
“Well； Mas’r；” said Tom； “towards mornin