Glory over Everything: Beyond The Kitchen House(94)

“Mr. Spencer, let me begin by apologizing for my deceit. My true purpose down here was to find Pan. A few months ago he was stolen from my employ in Philadelphia and brought down here and where he was sold to Thomas. Pan’s father, a man to whom I was deeply indebted, was once a slave himself, and somehow he was able to locate his son at Southwood. How he discovered this, I have no idea.”

Mr. Spencer nodded. “They have their ways.”

“Yes, apparently so. My trip to these parts had already been scheduled. I was given a grant by the museum to do a study of birds, that part is true, though before I left, the money was withdrawn. But I had made a promise to Pan’s father that I would find the boy and bring him back.” I took a deep breath. “So here I am. I apologize again for all of the untruths, but until today I was uncertain of your . . . views.”

“I can’t say I like to be lied to, but under the circumstances . . .” Mr. Spencer paused, and my conscience pricked. Should I tell him more? Should I mention my connection to Sukey? Did I need to? No, I had said enough. Divulging more would serve no purpose.

“Now that I have the boy, I would like to leave with him immediately. I must get to Williamsburg, where my daughter awaits. Yet you think that unwise?” I asked.

“There’s no way you could leave this property with the boy and not be discovered. Like I said earlier, you’ve got to sit tight for a few days until we get the boy out. That’s going to be hard enough. Chances are, Thomas has already called in Rankin.”

My heart thudded. Was it possible? “Rankin?” I asked.

“He’s a tracker out of Virginia, well known in these parts for finding runaways. He’s mean as a skunk and deadly, too—known to bring back only body parts, just so he gets paid.”

I was finding it hard to breathe. “Should we call in the law?” I asked. “Surely Thomas is not above the law.”

“The minute we bring the law into this, Thomas will lay claim to the boy. Before you have the legalities worked out, he will have the boy either dead or shipped out.” He took a long swallow of his drink.

I fought rising panic. “What do we do?” I asked.

“No doubt Thomas will have this place watched. Fortunately, with Addy’s arm as an excuse, I can send for old Doc McDougal. He and his man have a wagon that is outfitted for . . . situations such as this. It’s damned uncomfortable for a grown man or woman, but your boy should fit in with no problem. I’ve already sent word, and with any luck, Doc will be here by the morning. We’ll have to get the boy back into the barn before daylight.”

“And where will this man take him?”

“Old Doc lives close up by the Great Dismal. He has people there who will pick the boy up, then get him on board a ship, and send him back up to Philadelphia.”

“How about Williamsburg? Can they send him on there?”

“Is that where you’re heading?”

“Yes. My sister lives in Williamsburg, and I will send Pan to her. I have money for his passage,” I added.

“Good, that always helps,” he said, then nodded toward his desk. “Could you write down your sister’s name?”

I did so with some reluctance, for I had no idea how another imposition would be received by Miss Elly. I wrote down Robert’s name as well. “He is my valet and the one to get in touch with. He will care for the boy until I get there. Robert is the most trustworthy man I know.”

“I understand,” said Mr. Spencer. “Sam is the one I would trust with my life.”

I stood. “I think that I will try to get some sleep,” I said, and went toward the door, then turned back. “I can’t thank you enough for your understanding and your help.”

My host nodded. “Let the boy rest, then get him back out to the barn before daybreak. Sam will be waiting for him.”


PAN WAS ASLEEP when I arrived back in my room. Not wanting to disturb him, I sat in a chair and dozed until later that night, when Mr. Spencer alerted us that it was time for Pan to return to the barn. As the boy dressed, I told him of the plan for his escape. Not wishing to burden him further, I decided not to tell him of his father’s death.

“I wish you’d come with me,” Pan said plaintively.

“You’re going to have to be brave,” I said.

“I’m scared,” he said.

“I know. I was only a year older than you when I set out for Philadelphia all on my own. I was afraid, too, but I was determined to be a strong man. And now look at me.” I postured for him, puffing out my chest and flexing my arms until he smiled. It was true, I had been his age, but I had been in robust health, and he was far from it.

Pan was close to tears when I left him in the barn with Sam. It pained me to see his distress, so I turned to leave quickly.

“Mr. Burton! Mr. Burton!” he called out in a loud whisper.

“Yes, Pan?”

“Don’t worry, Mr. Burton. I’ll be strong, just like you.” He puffed out his small chest and flexed his thin arms.

I couldn’t trust myself to speak, so I just waved back.





CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT


1830


James


DOC MCDOUGAL WAS a thin, stooped old man who appeared to have a difficult time getting down from his wagon. Warmly received by Mr. Spencer, the old man removed his worn hat from atop a mane of long white hair before he nodded in my direction. After our brief introduction, he straightened himself as much as his body would allow, then slowly took the stairs to find Addy, leaving me to wonder how this arthritic old man could help Pan escape.