where she sat, he placed upon it the little silver salver, which he usually kept hid away in his own pack, where he reserved it for what he regarded as the state occasions of the journey.
"Drink some claret, Miss Eunice; good for you; keep off the night air. Some o' your brother's own private bin, what he keeps for himself and ye mother, if she'd ever come to see him. I told him to give me the key when he went away; told him you might need some o' the wine, and he gin it to me. Brought a few bottles along with me; knew they wouldn't be no good wine nowhere ef you should git chilled. Told him to give me the key; his own bin. Better drink some, Miss Eunice."
He had warmed water, had mixed his sangaree as carefully as if they had all been at the plantation, had remembered every fancy of Eunice's in concocting it, grating nutmeg upon it from her own silver grater, which lay in his stores, much as her brother's silver waiter did. And this was brought to her in her silver cup, as she sat there in the darkness in the wilderness, with her life darker than the night. Eunice was wretched, but, in her wretchedness, she appreciated the faithful creature's care, and, to please him, she made an effort to drink something, and sat with the goblet in her hand.
"It is very good, Ransom; it is just what I want, and you are very kind to think of it."
Ransom leaned over to change the way in which the sticks lay across the fire. Then he began again:
"Jest like her mother, she is. Don't ye remember night her mother scared us all jest so? Got lost jest as Miss Inez has, and ye brother was half crazy. No, ye don't remember — ye never see her. Ye brother was half crazy, he was; her mother got lost jest as Miss Inez has; scared all on us jest so. She's jest like her mother, Miss Inez is. I said so to Mr. Harrod only yesterday."
Eunice was too dead to try to answer him, and, without answer, the old man went on in a moment.
"We wos out on the plantation. It wos in the fall, jest as it is now. It wos the fust year after ye brother bought this place; didn't have no such good place on the river before; had the old place hired of Walker.
"After he bought this place, cos she liked it — two years afore this one was born — it wos in the fall, jest as it is now,-
"I'd sent all the niggers to bed, I had, 'n' wos jest lookin' round 'fore I locked up, w'en ye brother come up behind me, white as a sheet, he was. 'Ransom,' says he, 'where's ye missus?'
"Scared me awfully, he did, Miss Eunice. I didn't know more'n the dead where she wos — 'n' I said, says I, 'Isn't she in her own room?' 'Ransom,' says he, 'she isn't in any room in the house, 'n' none on 'em seen her,' says he, 'since she had a cup o' tea sent to her in the settin' room,' says he, ''n' it wasn't dark then,' says he.
"'N' none on 'em knew where she wos or where she'd gone. Well, Miss Eunice, they all loved her, them darkeys did, jest as these niggers, all on 'em, loves this one; and w'en I went round to ask 'em where she wos, they run this way an' that way, and none on 'em found her. 'N' in an hour she come in all right — got lost down on the levee — went wrong way 'n' got lost; had been down to see how old Chloe's baby was, 'n' got lost comin' home. Wosn't scared herself one bit — never wos scared — wosn't scared at nothin'. Miss Inez just like her mother."
Now there was a long pause. But Eunice did not want to discourage him, though she knew he would not encourage her.
"Tell me more about her mother, Ransom?"
"Woll, Miss Eunice, ye know how handsome she wos. That 'ere picter hangs in the salon ain't half handsome enough for her. Painted in Paris it wos, fust time they went over — ain't half handsome enough for her. Miss Inez is more like her, she is.
"She wos real good to 'em all, she wos, ma'am. She wos quiet like — not like the French ladies — 'n' when they come and see her they knowed she wos more of a lady than they wos, 'n' they didn't care to see her much, 'n' she didn't care to see them much. But she wos good to 'em all. Wos good to the niggers — all the niggers liked her.
"Took on a good deal, and wos all broke down when she come from the Havannah to this place. Kissed this one, Dolores here, that we's goin' to see — kissed her twenty times — 'n' Dolores says to me, says she — that's this one — she says, says she, in her funny, Spanish way, 'Ransom, take care of her ev'ry day and ev'ry night; 'n' Ransom, when you bring her back to me,' says she, 'I'll give you a gold doubloon,' says she. 'N' she laughed, 'n' I laughed, 'n' we made this one laugh, Miss Inez's mother. She did not
