Running a Thousand Miles for Freedom | Page 9

not sell the smart critter for ten thou-
sand dollars; I always wanted her for my own use." The lady, wishing
to remonstrate with him, com- menced by saying, "You should
remember, Sir, that there is a just God." Hoskens not under- standing
Mrs. Huston, interrupted her by saying, "I does, and guess its
monstrous kind an' him to send such likely niggers for our
convenience." Mrs. Huston finding that a long course of reckless
wickedness, drunkenness, and vice, had destroyed in Hoskens every
noble impulse, left him.
Antoinette, poor girl, also seeing that there was no help for her, became
frantic. I can never forget her cries of despair, when Hoskens gave the
order for her to be taken to his house, and locked in an upper room. On
Hoskens entering the apart- ment, in a state of intoxication, a fearful
struggle ensued. The brave Antoinette broke loose from him, pitched
herself head foremost through the window, and fell upon the pavement
below.
Her bruised but unpolluted body was soon picked up--restoratives
brought--doctor called in; but, alas! it was too late: her pure and noble
spirit had fled away to be at rest in those realms of endless bliss,
"where the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest."
Antoinette like many other noble women who are deprived of liberty,
still
"Holds something sacred, something undefiled; Some pledge and
keepsake of their higher nature. And, like the diamond in the dark,
retains Some quenchless gleam of the celestial light."

On Hoskens fully realizing the fact that his victim was no more, he
exclaimed "By thunder I am a used-up man!" The sudden
disappointment, and the loss of two thousand dollars, was more than he
could endure: so he drank more than ever, and in a short time died,
raving mad with delirium tremens.
The villain Slator said to Mrs. Huston, the kind lady who endeavoured
to purchase Antoinette from Hoskens, "Nobody needn't talk to me 'bout
buying them ar likely niggers, for I'm not going to sell em." "But Mary
is rather delicate," said Mrs. Huston, "and, being unaccustomed to hard
work, cannot do you much service on a plantation." "I don't want her
for the field," replied Slator, "but for another purpose." Mrs. Huston
understood what this meant, and instantly exclaimed, "Oh, but she is
your cousin!" "The devil she is!" said Slator; and added, "Do you mean
to insult me, Madam, by saying that I am related to niggers?" "No,"
replied Mrs. Huston, "I do not wish to offend you, Sir. But wasn't Mr.
Slator, Mary's father, your uncle?" "Yes, I calculate he was," said
Slator; "but I want you and everybody to understand that I'm no kin to
his niggers." "Oh, very well," said Mrs. Huston; adding, "Now what
will you take for the poor girl?" "Nothin'," he replied; "for, as I said
before, I'm not goin' to sell, so you needn't trouble yourself no more. If
the critter behaves herself, I'll do as well by her as any man."
Slator spoke up boldly, but his manner and sheepish look clearly
indicated that

"His heart within him was at strife With such accursed gains; For he
knew whose passions gave her life, Whose blood ran in her veins."
"The monster led her from the door, He led her by the hand, To be his
slave and paramour In a strange and distant land!"
Poor Frank and his sister were handcuffed to- gether, and confined in
prison. Their dear little twin brother and sister were sold, and taken
where they knew not. But it often happens that mis- fortune causes
those whom we counted dearest to shrink away; while it makes friends
of those whom we least expected to take any interest in our affairs.
Among the latter class Frank found two comparatively new but faithful
friends to watch the gloomy paths of the unhappy little twins.
In a day or two after the sale, Slator had two fast horses put to a large
light van, and placed in it a good many small but valuable things

belonging to the distressed family. He also took with him Frank and
Mary, as well as all the money for the spoil; and after treating all his
low friends and bystanders, and drinking deeply himself, he started in
high glee for his home in South Carolina. But they had not proceeded
many miles, before Frank and his sister discovered that Slator was too
drunk to drive. But he, like most tipsy men, thought he was all right;
and as he had with him some of the ruined family's best brandy and
wine, such as he had not been accustomed to, and being a thirsty soul,
he drank till the reins fell from his fingers, and in attempting to catch