Promises to the Dead by Mary Downing Hahn

Author:Mary Downing Hahn [Hahn, Mary Downing]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Social Issues, Fiction, Historical, Juvenile Fiction, General, Family, United States, Maryland, People & Places, Orphans, United States - History - Civil War; 1861-1865, 19th Century, Civil War Period (1850-1877), Afro-Americans, Maryland - History - Civil War; 1861-1865, Slavery, Orphans & Foster Homes, Fugitive Slaves, African American, African Americans
ISBN: 9780547258386
Google: aWsjbI2hG48C
Amazon: 0547258380
Publisher: Sandpiper
Published: 2000-03-20T06:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 11

I scooted up those stairs like a scared rabbit, but I wasn't quick enough. At the very moment I reached the back door, Mr. Kirby and Colonel Abednego Botfield came storming down the hall toward me, followed by Judge Baxter. The colonel was dragging Nate, whose head was bleeding like he'd been beaten bad. Pistol-whipped, maybe. It made me ache to see him looking more dead than alive.

"Fetch that wench of yours," Colonel Botfield was hollering at Judge Baxter. "She's got that slave child hid in this house, I tell you."

When the colonel saw me struggling to unbolt the back door, he dropped Nate to the floor with a thud. Grabbing my shirt, he lifted me clean off my feet and shook me like a feather pillow.

"This is the very brat that hid the woman and her boy from me in Talbot County," he yelled.

Judge Baxter looked from Colonel Botfield to me and back to Colonel Botfield again. "I've never seen that guttersnipe before," he said, clearly astonished. "I have no idea why he's in my house or where he came from."

"If Jesse Sherman is here, the child I'm seeking is here, too." Colonel Botfield gave me a few more shakes hard enough to break a chicken's neck. "Give me a Bible, and I'll swear on the Holy Evangels of Almighty God that this here rascal and your no-account slave broke into Mr. Daniel Kirby's house tonight and stole a child that belongs to your son's widow."

Flummoxed, Judge Baxter stared at Colonel Botfield. I noticed he made no move to fetch a Bible. "You must be mad or drunk to say such a thing. Why in heaven's name would Nate steal a slave and bring him here?"

Growing more wrathy every second, the colonel shook me again, causing me to bite my tongue something awful. "Just give me permission to search the house," he said. "You'll soon see I'm telling the truth."

Judge Baxter drew himself up tall and straight, shoulders back and chin up. "No one searches my house, Colonel Botfield, least of all a scoundrel such as yourself."

Ignoring the insult, the colonel said, "As I've already told you, the slave in question belongs to the widow of your deceased son! I should think you'd want to help the bereaved reclaim her property."

Instead of shaking me again, Colonel Botfield commenced to twist my collar as if he meant to choke me to death.

Judge Baxter looked at me. "Loosen your grip on the boy," he said slowly to the colonel, "before you kill him."

Colonel Botfield let me go with a box on the ears that made my head ring like a church bell. "Will you or won't you give me permission to search the house?"

"In the name of God, Horatio," put in Mr. Kirby, "let the colonel do as he asks. Ain't you and me friends as well as in-laws?"

"It's not you I object to, Daniel. It's the company you keep." The judge eyed the colonel with contempt. "That man may be your wife's brother, but he's no gentleman.

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