Tom often heard her praying, as she wavered and trembled, and seemed about to fall down. Tom silently, as he came near to her, transferred several handfuls of cotton from his own sack to hers.
"O, don't, don't!" said the woman, looking surprised; "it'll get you into trouble."
Just then Sambo came up. He seemed to have a special spite against this woman; and, flourishing his whip, said, in brutal, guttural tones, "What dis yer, Luce,—foolin' a'?" and, with the word, kicking the woman with his heavy cowhide shoe, he struck Tom across the face with his whip.
Tom silently resumed his task; but the woman, before at the last point of exhaustion, fainted.
"I'll bring her to!" said the driver, with a brutal grin. "I'll give her something better than camphire!" and, taking a pin from his coat-sleeve, he buried it to the head in her flesh. The woman groaned, and half rose. "Get up, you beast, and work, will yer, or I'll show yer a trick more!"
The woman seemed stimulated, for a few moments, to an unnatural strength, and worked with desperate eagerness.
"See that you keep to dat ar," said the man, "or yer'll wish yer's dead to-night, I reckin!"
"That I do now!" Tom heard her say; and again he heard her say, "O, Lord, how long! O, Lord, why don't you help us?"
At the risk of all that he might suffer, Tom came forward again, and put all the cotton in his sack into the woman's.
"O, you mustn't! you donno what they'll do to ye!" said the woman.
"I can bar it!" said Tom, "better 'n you;" and he was at his place again. It passed in a moment.
Suddenly, the stranger woman whom we have described, and
