THE CAW CAW SWAMP
failed in Hayti I was without friends, without money; if I had been found they would have killed me. A woman set them after me, but I escaped. I got to Curaçoa and from there I worked my way to Pensacola on a schooner; then I came here. I was in prison in Alabama and with a gang of convicts, but I threw the guard down the bank of the railroad and got away … and they hunted me, but I came here. I knew that you were my friend and I thought that perhaps you would help me … give me some money to get away! …" There was no break in the monotony of the mumbling voice. "I thought that perhaps Giles would take me to England. I am very strong and I understand horses; I could work in the stables. All of my money is gone and I am just a poor negro whom everybody wants to kill." Sobs strangled the words. "God hates me; I cannot pray…" He mumbled, squatting; hid his face in his hands. His moaning voice continued through the thick fingers.
Virginia saw in him the great, cowering, broken-spirited animal; this knowledge, his helplessness, gave her strength, resource. Mistress, bound to protect her whimpering slave.
"Tell me the rest," she said, "and then I will decide what is best for you."
His hands dropped, bent knuckles on the ground. He glanced up under his furrowed brows, a look of hope in his gaunt face.
"You will help me?" he mumbled. He took up his narrative. "When I was not far from here I met a negro; he was running and crying and covered with blood; he seemed mad. His feet were cut and he carried an ax.
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