A lady and gentleman were sitting talking happily together in the drawing-room of the
white house to which Eliza had gone. Suddenly their old black man-of-all-work put his
head in at the door and said, 'Will missis come into the kitchen?'
The lady went. Presently she called to her husband, 'I do wish you would come here a
moment.'
He rose and went into the kitchen.
There lay Eliza on two kitchen chairs. Her poor feet were all cut and bleeding, and she
had fainted quite away. The master of the house drew his breath short, and stood silent.
His wife and the cook were trying to bring Eliza round. The old man had Harry on his
knee, and was busy pulling off his shoes and stockings, to warm the little cold feet.
'Poor creature,' said the lady.
Suddenly Eliza opened her eyes. A dreadful look of pain came into her face. She sprang
up saying, 'Oh, my Harry, have they got him?'
As soon as he heard her voice, Harry jumped from the old man's knee, and running to her
side, put up his arms.
'Oh, he's here! he's here,' she said, kissing him. 'Oh, ma'am,' she went, on turning wildly
to the lady of the house, 'do protect us, don't let them get him.'
'Nobody shall hurt you here, poor woman,' said the lady. 'You are safe; don't be afraid.'
'God bless you,' said Eliza, covering her face and sobbing, while Harry, seeing her crying,
tried to get into her lap to comfort her.
'You needn't be afraid of anything; we are friends here, poor woman. Tell me where you
come from and what you want,' said the lady.
'I came from the other side of the river,' said Eliza.
'When?' said the gentleman, very much astonished.
'To-night.'
'How did you come?'
'I crossed on the ice.'
'Crossed on the ice!' exclaimed every one.
'Yes,' said Eliza slowly, 'I did. God helped me, and I crossed on the ice. They were close
behind me—right behind, and there was no other way.'
'Law, missis,' said the old servant, 'the ice is all in broken up blocks, a-swinging up and
down in the water.'
'I know it is. I know it,' said Eliza wildly. 'But I did it. I would'nt have thought I could—I
didn't think I could get over, but I didn't care. I could but die if I didn't. And God helped
me.'
'Were you a slave?' said the gentleman.
'Yes, sir.'
'Was your master unkind to you?'
'No, sir.'
'Was your mistress unkind to you?'
'No, sir—no. My mistress was always good to me.'
'What could make you leave a good home, then, and run away, and go through such
danger?'
'They wanted to take my boy away from me—to sell him—to sell him down south,
ma'am. To go all alone—a baby that had never been away from his mother in his life. I
couldn't bear it. I took him, and ran away in the night. They chased me, they were coming
down close behind me, and I heard 'em. I jumped right on to the ice. How I got across I
don't know. The first I knew, a man was helping me up the bank.'
It was such a sad story, that the tears came into the eyes of everyone who heard her tell it.
'Where do you mean to go to, poor woman?' asked the lady.
'To Canada, if I only knew where that was. Is it very far off, is Canada'? said Eliza,
looking up in a simple, trusting way, to the kind lady's face.
'Poor woman,' said she again.
'Is it a great way off?' asked Eliza.
'Yes,' said the lady of the house sadly, 'it is far away. But we will try to help you to get
there.' Eliza wanted to go to Canada, because it belonged to the British. They did not
allow any one to be made a slave there. George, too, was going to try to reach Canada.
'Wife,' said the gentleman, when they had gone back again into their own sitting-room,
'we must get that poor woman away to-night. She is not safe here. I know some good
people, far in the country, who will take care of her.'
So this kind gentleman got the carriage ready, and drove Eliza and her boy a long, long
way, through the dark night, to a cottage far in the country. There he left her with a good
man and his wife, who promised to be kind to her, and help her to go to Canada. He gave
some money to the good man too, and told him to use it for Eliza.
6. Uncle Tom Says Good-Bye
The day after the hunt for Eliza was a very sad one in Uncle Tom's cabin. It was the day
on which Haley was going to take Uncle Tom away.
Aunt Chloe had been up very early. She had washed and ironed all Tom's clothes, and
packed his trunk neatly. Now she was cooking the breakfast,—the last breakfast she
would ever cook for her dear husband. Her eyes were quite red and swollen with crying,
and the tears kept running down her cheeks all the time.
'It's the last time,' said Tom sadly.
Aunt Chloe could not answer. She sat down, buried her face in her hands, and sobbed
aloud.
'S'pose we must be resigned. But, O Lord, how can I? If I knew anything where you was
goin', or how they'd treat you! Missis says she'll try and buy you back again in a year or
two. But, Lor', nobody never comes back that goes down there.'
'There'll be the same God there, Chloe, that there is here.'
'Well,' said Aunt Chloe, 's'pose dere will. But the Lord lets drefful things happen
sometimes. I don't seem to get no comfort dat way.'
'Let's think on our mercies,' said Tom, in a shaking voice.
'Mercies!' said Aunt Chloe, 'don't see any mercies in 't. It isn't right! it isn't right it should
be so! Mas'r never ought to have left it so that ye could be took for his debts. Mebbe he
can't help himself now, but I feel it's wrong. Nothing can beat that out of me. Such a
faithful crittur as ye've been, reckonin' on him more than your own wife and chil'en.'
'Chloe! now, if ye love me, you won't talk so, when it is perhaps jest the last time we'll
ever have together,' said Tom.
'Wall, anyway, there's wrong about it somewhere,' said Aunt Chloe, 'I can't jest make out
where 'tis. But there is wrong somewhere, I'm sure of that.'
Neither Tom nor Chloe could eat any breakfast; their hearts were too full of sorrow. But
the little children, who hardly understood what was happening, enjoyed theirs. It was not
often that they had such a fine one as Chloe had cooked for Tom's last morning at home.
Breakfast was just finished, when Mrs. Shelby came. Chloe was not very pleased to see
her. She was angry, and blamed her for letting Tom be sold.
But Mrs. Shelby did not seem to see Aunt Chloe's angry looks. 'Tom,' she said, turning to
him, 'I come to—' she could say no more, she was crying so bitterly.
Then all Aunt Chloe's anger faded away.
'Lor', now missis, don't-don't,' she said. She too burst out crying again, and for a few
minutes they all sobbed together.
'Tom,' said Mrs. Shelby at last, 'I can't do anything for you now. But I promise you, most
solemnly, to save as much, money as I can. As soon as I have enough, I will buy you
back again.'
Just then Haley arrived. Tom said a last sad good-bye to his wife and children, and got
into the cart, which Haley had brought with him.
As soon as Tom was seated in the cart, Haley took a heavy chain, and fastened it round
his ankles. Poor Tom had done nothing wrong, yet he was treated worse than a thief, just
because he was a slave.
'You don't need to do that,' said Mrs. Shelby, 'Tom won't run away.'
'Don't know so much about that, ma'am; I've lost one already. I can't afford to run any
more risks,' replied Haley.
'Please give my love to Mas'r George,' said Tom, looking round sadly. 'Tell him how
sorry I am he is not at home to say good-bye.'
Master George was Mr. and Mrs. Shelby's son. He was very fond of Tom, and was
teaching him to write. He often used to come and have tea in Uncle Tom's little cottage.
Aunt Chloe used to make her very nicest cakes when Mas'r George came to tea. But he
was not at home now, and did not know that Tom had been sold.
Haley whipped up the horse, and, with a last sad look at the old place, Tom was whirled
away to a town called Washington.