Glory Over Everything (37 page)

Hester smoothed Addy's hair back from her face while giving her a soft look. “You did real good, Miss Addy. You did jus' like your own mama woulda done.”

Patty stood back, nervously observing her older sister. “Did he hurt you?” she asked. “It sounded like he hurt you.”

“Come here, dearest,” Addy said to her, tapping the bed. “Come here beside me. I've missed you, Patty Pat.” When Patricia burst into tears and ran to her, I left them to Hester.

Downstairs, I met Mr. Spencer on the way to his study. He motioned for me to follow, and once there he poured each of us a double measure of whiskey. He tossed his down and I followed suit, welcoming the hot surge.

“Sit,” Mr. Spencer commanded as he removed a pistol from the interior of his jacket and set it on his desk, but I remained standing, anxious to see Pan.

“Do you want me to bring the boy in?” I asked.

“No,” he said, pointing to a chair as he took a seat. “At this moment he's as safe in the barn as he is in here. But we need to get him away from this property as soon as possible.”

“I'll leave with him tonight! We'll get down to Edenton and sail out from there,” I said.

“No, they'll be watching for the two of you. Thomas will have his men all over the place. You must remain here at least for a few days after the boy leaves. That way you'll avoid suspicion. The boy will stay here tonight, but by tomorrow we'll have to get him up to Norfolk.”

“How will we do that?” I asked.

“I have my ways,” he said.

I studied the man I thought I had known. Why would he risk his life and his family's safety for a young Negro? After all, he was a slave owner himself.

I had to ask. “Why are you—”

He anticipated my question. “Look, I believe in minding my own business, but there are times when one can't look the other way. Weeks ago, after the boy first arrived, Sukey sent word to Hester about getting him out. She had taken a liking to him and was afraid of what Thomas would do to him. This morning, after Sukey heard the trader was coming today, she hid the boy. Fortunately, Thomas didn't think we were coming for Addy until tomorrow, and he was out in the field, so after we got Addy settled in the wagon, we stopped at the barns where the boy was hidden.”

“So that's why Sukey kept trying to tell me to get him out!”

“If Thomas ever finds out how many that woman has . . .” He stopped himself, then looked me in the eye. “I have told you more than might be wise. Now you must tell me what your interest is in this boy.”

“I would be happy to tell you everything, but might we first get Pan into my room?”

“As you wish,” he agreed, and heaved himself up from the chair.

We found the frightened boy in the safety of the barn, still hidden under quilts in the wagon. I kept him wrapped when I scooped him up, as though carrying a bundle of quilts down to my room. Free of the blankets, the boy was wet with perspiration. When I had him remove his clothes in exchange for a dry nightshirt of mine, I was shocked to see how frail he looked.

Hester brought some bread and cheese. Pan refused the food but greedily drained a mug of milk. I took the empty cup from his quivering hand.

“I'm sorry, Mr. Burton,” he said, “but I can't make myself stop shaking.”

“That's all right,” I said. “That can happen when you've had a fright.” I had him climb into the bed and pull the covers up around himself.

“I was so scared,” he said. “I thought you'd go without me.”

“Don't you worry,” I said, trying to insert conviction. “We're going to get you home safe.”

He studied me with sunken eyes but managed a smile. How unlike he was from the carefree boy I had known. I had to tell him about his father, but now was not the time. “You rest,” I said, and left then for the study, where Mr. Spencer awaited me.

He was seated in his worn armchair and lifted a glass toward me. “Pour another for yourself,” he invited, but I declined as I took a seat. Now more than ever, I needed clarity. How much should I tell this man? And what was he about? Not certain where to begin, I looked around to give myself time.

The room was comfortable enough but not furnished in a lavish way. There were a few good pieces, a highboy to the side and a red settee that showed age; a stack of books that appeared to be accounting records rather than literary works rested on a large but simple oak desk. The windows were covered by green wooden shades, tilted open to allow in an early-evening breeze. One of them rattled, startling me. Quickly, I glanced toward it but, reassured that it was only a breeze, I turned back to my host.

“Mr. Spencer, let me begin by apologizing for my deceit. My true purpose down here was to find Pan. A few months ago he was stolen from my employ in Philadelphia and brought down here and where he was sold to Thomas. Pan's father, a man to whom I was deeply indebted, was once a slave himself, and somehow he was able to locate his son at Southwood. How he discovered this, I have no idea.”

Mr. Spencer nodded. “They have their ways.”

“Yes, apparently so. My trip to these parts had already been scheduled. I was given a grant by the museum to do a study of birds, that part is true, though before I left, the money was withdrawn. But I had made a promise to Pan's father that I would find the boy and bring him back.” I took a deep breath. “So here I am. I apologize again for all of the untruths, but until today I was uncertain of your . . . views.”

“I can't say I like to be lied to, but under the circumstances . . .” Mr. Spencer paused, and my conscience pricked. Should I tell him more? Should I mention my connection to Sukey? Did I need to? No, I had said enough. Divulging more would serve no purpose.

“Now that I have the boy, I would like to leave with him immediately. I must get to Williamsburg, where my daughter awaits. Yet you think that unwise?” I asked.

“There's no way you could leave this property with the boy and not be discovered. Like I said earlier, you've got to sit tight for a few days until we get the boy out. That's going to be hard enough. Chances are, Thomas has already called in Rankin.”

My heart thudded. Was it possible? “Rankin?” I asked.

“He's a tracker out of Virginia, well known in these parts for finding runaways. He's mean as a skunk and deadly, too—known to bring back only body parts, just so he gets paid.”

I was finding it hard to breathe. “Should we call in the law?” I asked. “Surely Thomas is not above the law.”

“The minute we bring the law into this, Thomas will lay claim to the boy. Before you have the legalities worked out, he will have the boy either dead or shipped out.” He took a long swallow of his drink.

I fought rising panic. “What do we do?” I asked.

“No doubt Thomas will have this place watched. Fortunately, with Addy's arm as an excuse, I can send for old Doc McDougal. He and his man have a wagon that is outfitted for . . . situations such as this. It's damned uncomfortable for a grown man or woman, but your boy should fit in with no problem. I've already sent word, and with any luck, Doc will be here by the morning. We'll have to get the boy back into the barn before daylight.”

“And where will this man take him?”

“Old Doc lives close up by the Great Dismal. He has people there who will pick the boy up, then get him on board a ship, and send him back up to Philadelphia.”

“How about Williamsburg? Can they send him on there?”

“Is that where you're heading?”

“Yes. My sister lives in Williamsburg, and I will send Pan to her. I have money for his passage,” I added.

“Good, that always helps,” he said, then nodded toward his desk. “Could you write down your sister's name?”

I did so with some reluctance, for I had no idea how another imposition would be received by Miss Elly. I wrote down Robert's name as well. “He is my valet and the one to get in touch with. He will care for the boy until I get there. Robert is the most trustworthy man I know.”

“I understand,” said Mr. Spencer. “Sam is the one I would trust with my life.”

I stood. “I think that I will try to get some sleep,” I said, and went toward the door, then turned back. “I can't thank you enough for your understanding and your help.”

My host nodded. “Let the boy rest, then get him back out to the barn before daybreak. Sam will be waiting for him.”

P
AN WAS ASLEEP
when I arrived back in my room. Not wanting to disturb him, I sat in a chair and dozed until later that night, when Mr. Spencer alerted us that it was time for Pan to return to the barn. As the boy dressed, I told him of the plan for his escape. Not wishing to burden him further, I decided not to tell him of his father's death.

“I wish you'd come with me,” Pan said plaintively.

“You're going to have to be brave,” I said.

“I'm scared,” he said.

“I know. I was only a year older than you when I set out for Philadelphia all on my own. I was afraid, too, but I was determined to be a strong man. And now look at me.” I postured for him, puffing out my chest and flexing my arms until he smiled. It was true, I had been his age, but I had been in robust health, and he was far from it.

Pan was close to tears when I left him in the barn with Sam. It pained me to see his distress, so I turned to leave quickly.

“Mr. Burton! Mr. Burton!” he called out in a loud whisper.

“Yes, Pan?”

“Don't worry, Mr. Burton. I'll be strong, just like you.” He puffed out his small chest and flexed his thin arms.

I couldn't trust myself to speak, so I just waved back.

D
OC
M
C
D
OUGAL WAS
a thin, stooped old man who appeared to have a difficult time getting down from his wagon. Warmly received by Mr. Spencer, the old man removed his worn hat from atop a mane of long white hair before he nodded in my direction. After our brief introduction, he straightened himself as much as his body would allow, then slowly took the stairs to find Addy, leaving me to wonder how this arthritic old man could help Pan escape.

I did as Mr. Spencer said and stayed indoors while he got Pan settled in the doctor's wagon. I paced until Doc's return downstairs, where he found me in the study. The old man went to the sideboard and helped himself to a sizable portion of whiskey, then looked me over as he drank it. He set the empty glass down with a thump.

“Mind if I ask why you come all the way down here for him?” he asked.

“I promised his father I would find him,” I said.

He grunted. “You best take care. Thomas is going to have it out for you. By now he's got to know that you're involved.”

“Thank you for the warning,” I said. “I plan to leave by tomorrow.”

“I wouldn't do that. Sit tight for another week or two. Let Thomas's suspicions die down.”

I already knew I wouldn't do as he suggested. By tomorrow I planned to be in Edenton, on the first coach out. “Can you tell me where you're taking the boy?” I asked.

“The less you know, the better. All's I can say for now is that we're gonna try to get him out of here in one piece. Spencer said the boy's got a place to go in Williamsburg?”

“He does,” I said. I wanted to say more to thank this man, but he left abruptly, and soon after, his wagon rolled away. I watched from behind the slats of the window blinds and wondered how they managed to cram Pan into the hiding place under the wagon seat. I hated to think of how uncomfortable and frightened the boy must be, but I reminded myself that he was on his way to freedom. And tomorrow, in spite of Doc's warnings, I would leave, too.

As I watched the dust from the wagon settle on the empty road, Clora called me from the head of the stairs. “Mr. Burton! Miss Addy wantin' to see you.”

I found Adelaide propped up in her bed, with Patricia and Clora on either side, eager to serve her. Although the patient was smiling, her face was drawn, and she soon sent the two other girls off on a chore. “Has the wagon left?” she asked as soon as we were alone.

“Yes,” I said. “A few minutes ago.”

“Oh, good.” She sighed. “Doc McDougal is such a fine man, don't you think?”

“I do,” I said. “He is a family friend?”

“He and my grandfather grew up together,” she said. “Daddy knew him when he was a little boy. Now he and Daddy often work together.” She looked at me from under her lashes. Where before I would have thought she was playing at being coy, now I saw she was trying to read me.

“I see,” I said. “And you help them as well?”

“Mr. Burton, I have been told,” she said, looking at me sideways, “the less said, the better.”

“Of course.” I smiled. “And we must respect that.”

“Unless you have a question that I feel obliged to answer?” She raised her eyebrows.

“Miss Adelaide!” I chuckled and shook my head. “You are a prize! After I leave, you must promise to write to me, and you must not stop those letters until after you are safely married. I can only imagine the havoc you will wreak and the hearts you will break. Your letters will be more intriguing than any novel.”

“Indeed!” she agreed, giving a sly smile, but I sensed that underneath her facade, she was as worried about the safety of Pan as I was.

O
UR CONCERNS WERE
justified. In under two hours, Doc McDougal's carriage returned. When Mr. Spencer rushed out, he found Doc slumped to the side with chest pains severe enough that he could not continue on. Mr. Spencer and I helped the old man into the study while Sam drove the carriage into the barn. “Give me a stiff one,” Doc directed Mr. Spencer.

The old man downed the whiskey, then held out his glass again, but before it could be refilled, Doc slid to the floor. For a long moment, Mr. Spencer and I stared in disbelief and, though we were soon on our knees beside him, the old man was already gone.