The words smote heavily on Eliza's heart; the vision of the trader came before her eyes, and, as if some one had struck her a deadly blow, she turned pale and gasped for breath. She looked nervously out on the verandah, where the boy, tired of the grave conversation, had retired, and where he was riding triumphantly up and down on Mr. Shelby's walking-stick. She would have spoken to tell her husband her fears, but checked herself.
"No, no, — he has enough to bear, poor fellow!" she thought. "No, I won't tell him; besides, it an't true; Missis never deceives us."
"So, Eliza, my girl," said the husband, mournfully, "bear up, now; and good-by, for I'm going."
"Going, George! Going where?"
"To Canada," said he, straightening himself up; "and when I'm there, I'll buy you; that's all the hope that's left us. You have a kind master, that won't refuse to sell you. I'll buy you and the boy; — God helping me, I will!"
"O, dreadful! if you should be taken?"
"I won't be taken, Eliza; I'll die first! I'll be free, or I'll die!"
"You won't kill yourself!"
"No need of that. They will kill me, fast enough; they never will get me down the river alive!"
"O, George, for my sake, do be careful! Don't do anything wicked; don't lay hands on yourself, or anybody else! You are tempted too much — too much; but don't — go you must — but go carefully, prudently; pray God to help you."
