"I've now told you of all that's dead," continued he, striking the ashes
out of his pipe and wiping it on his bagging trousers, "but I hain't told
you yit what troubles me more than all. Thar's something haunts old Josh,
and makes his heart stand still with mortal fear. Thar's Sunshine, dearer
to her old pap than his own life. You've all seen her, and I reckon she's
made some of your hearts ache; but something's come over her. She seems
delicate like, and is fadin' away."
Here two big tears, that couldn't be mistaken, rolled down Mr. Middleton's
cheeks, as he added emphatically, "and by Jehu, if Sunshine goes, old
Josh'll bust up and go, too!"
The winding up of Uncle Joshua's story was so odd and unexpected that all
the gentlemen, Mr. Stafford included, laughed loudly.
"'Tain't no laughin' matter, boys," said Mr. Middleton, "and so you'll all
think if you ever have a gal as sweet and lovin' like as Sunshine."
Here Mr. Stafford said, "Your sister's name was Fanny, I believe."
"Yes, 'twas; who told you?" asked Mr. Middleton.
"No one. I knew it myself," answered Mr. Stafford, looking his brother
earnestly in the face.
Mr. Middleton seemed puzzled, and after closely scrutinizing Mr.
Stafford's features, he said, "Confound it, am I in a nightmare? I thought
for a minute--but no, it can't be neither, for you've got too thunderin'
black a hide to be Bill."
Before Mr. Stafford replies to this remark we will take the reader to the
kitchen, where a group of negroes are assembled round old Aunt Katy, and
are listening with breathless interest to what she is saying. Aunt Katy
was so infirm that she kept her bed for the greater part of the time, but
on this day she was sitting-up, and from her low cabin window she caught a
view of the visitors as they alighted from the carriage. When Mr. Stafford
appeared, she half started from her chair and said aloud, "Who upon airth
can that be, and whar have I seen him? Somewhar, sartin."
It then occurred to her that she would go to the kitchen and inquire who
"that tall, darkish-looking gentleman was." Accordingly she hobbled out to
make the inquiry. She was much disappointed when she heard the name. "No,"
said she, "'tain't nobody I ever knowed, and yet how like he is to
somebody I've seen."
Not long after the old negress again muttered to herself, "Go way now;
what makes me keep a thinkin' so of Marster William this mornin'? 'Pears
like he keeps hauntin' me." Then rising she went to an old cupboard, and
took from it a cracked earthen teapot. From this teapot she drew a piece
of brown paper, and opening it gazed fondly on a little lock of soft brown
hair.