The Shelbys appear here as flat characters, existing to further the plot, not very interesting except as they contrast with the two other married couples we have met so far. For the sake of plot and theme, we must take at face value Shelby's claim that he really had no choice but to sell Tom and Harry, and although we do not know how much money was involved, we may deduce from sums mentioned later in the book (and Haley's claim, likely understated, that Eliza would bring "over a thousand" on the New Orleans market) that Shelby really has nothing else of so much value that he might have sold instead. Yet the man's apparent regret at this necessity, expressed in snappishness at his wife's shocked reaction, shows up rather badly against Tom's wholehearted grief. For that matter, Mrs. Shelby's embarrassment and even her bold pronouncement on the evils of slavery lose some force when contrasted with Eliza and George's willingness to risk all personal safety and well-being in order to preserve their family. We cannot help but consider other ways in which Mrs. Shelby might have reacted; she might, for example, have assisted Eliza in her escape, or at least told her at once. Instead, she goes to sleep and wakes to wonder why Eliza is not there to help her dress. Stowe's narrator does not underline the point for us (as she does so many others throughout the book), but it would be hard to miss the fact that it is not the slaves who seem to be made callous and unfeeling by the habit of slavery, but rather the owners who are so affected.
Another character deserving of comment is "Black Sam," the farmhand who sabotages Haley's pursuit of Eliza. Sam is a very minor character, but his performance in these chapters is enough to render him memorable. Because Eliza's escape is almost entirely due to Sam, and because it seems to have been successful, the reader is inclined to applaud his methods, underhanded as they are. Yet a modern reader is likely to be incensed or at least made very uncomfortable by what seems to be (and indeed is) the stereotypical sketch of a "comic" black figure, drawn by a white writer for the amusement of a white audience. Sam mugs and grins, uses big words and gets them wrong, screeches in broad dialect, and seems ready at any moment to break into a comic dance. He is quite willing to capture Eliza, if this will help him to step into the position of trust and responsibility formerly held by Tom, for his eye is to the main chance. We can hardly help laughing at Sam's actions (and at his understudy, Andy, who follows him assiduously), but we hate ourselves for doing so.
