“I’ll leave with him tonight! We’ll get down to Edenton and sail out from there,” I said.
“No, they’ll be watching for the two of you. Thomas will have his men all over the place. You must remain here at least for a few days after the boy leaves. That way you’ll avoid suspicion. The boy will stay here tonight, but by tomorrow we’ll have to get him up to Norfolk.”
“How will we do that?” I asked.
“I have my ways,” he said.
I studied the man I thought I had known. Why would he risk his life and his family’s safety for a young Negro? After all, he was a slave owner himself.
I had to ask. “Why are you—”
He anticipated my question. “Look, I believe in minding my own business, but there are times when one can’t look the other way. Weeks ago, after the boy first arrived, Sukey sent word to Hester about getting him out. She had taken a liking to him and was afraid of what Thomas would do to him. This morning, after Sukey heard the trader was coming today, she hid the boy. Fortunately, Thomas didn’t think we were coming for Addy until tomorrow, and he was out in the field, so after we got Addy settled in the wagon, we stopped at the barns where the boy was hidden.”
“So that’s why Sukey kept trying to tell me to get him out!”
“If Thomas ever finds out how many that woman has . . .” He stopped himself, then looked me in the eye. “I have told you more than might be wise. Now you must tell me what your interest is in this boy.”
“I would be happy to tell you everything, but might we first get Pan into my room?”
“As you wish,” he agreed, and heaved himself up from the chair.
We found the frightened boy in the safety of the barn, still hidden under quilts in the wagon. I kept him wrapped when I scooped him up, as though carrying a bundle of quilts down to my room. Free of the blankets, the boy was wet with perspiration. When I had him remove his clothes in exchange for a dry nightshirt of mine, I was shocked to see how frail he looked.
Hester brought some bread and cheese. Pan refused the food but greedily drained a mug of milk. I took the empty cup from his quivering hand.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Burton,” he said, “but I can’t make myself stop shaking.”
“That’s all right,” I said. “That can happen when you’ve had a fright.” I had him climb into the bed and pull the covers up around himself.
“I was so scared,” he said. “I thought you’d go without me.”
“Don’t you worry,” I said, trying to insert conviction. “We’re going to get you home safe.”
He studied me with sunken eyes but managed a smile. How unlike he was from the carefree boy I had known. I had to tell him about his father, but now was not the time. “You rest,” I said, and left then for the study, where Mr. Spencer awaited me.
He was seated in his worn armchair and lifted a glass toward me. “Pour another for yourself,” he invited, but I declined as I took a seat. Now more than ever, I needed clarity. How much should I tell this man? And what was he about? Not certain where to begin, I looked around to give myself time.
The room was comfortable enough but not furnished in a lavish way. There were a few good pieces, a highboy to the side and a red settee that showed age; a stack of books that appeared to be accounting records rather than literary works rested on a large but simple oak desk. The windows were covered by green wooden shades, tilted open to allow in an early-evening breeze. One of them rattled, startling me. Quickly, I glanced toward it but, reassured that it was only a breeze, I turned back to my host.
“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.