So I did. There was no point in lying, much; I hadn't time for invention, anyway, and he would have seen through it. So from New Orleans on I told him the truth — Crixus, my escape with Randolph, what happened on the steamboat, the Mandevilles, the slave cart and Cassy, Memphis, and our eventual flight. I kept out the spicy bits, of course, and Mandeville's barbarous treatment of me I explained by pretending that Omohundro had turned up at Greystones with searchers and identified me — that was how they treated underground railroad men in the south, I said. He listened attentively, saying nothing, the bright eyes never leaving my face. When I had finished he sat silent a long while, studying. Then he said:
"Well," and then a long pause. "That's quite a story." Another pause. "Yes, sir, that is quite a story." He coughed. "Haven't heard anything to touch it since last time I was in the Liberal Club. There's — nothing you wish to add to it — at all? No detail you may have, uh, overlooked?"
"That is all, sir," says I wondering.
"I see. I see. No, no, I just thought — oh, a balloon flight over Arkansas, or perhaps an encounter with pirates and alligators in the bayous of Louisiana — you know —"
I demanded, did he not believe me?
"On the contrary, I don't doubt it for a moment — more or less, anyway. No, I believe you, sir — my expressions of astonishment are really a tribute to you. In America, as in most other places, it's only the truth that we find hard to believe. No — it's not what you've told me, but what you haven't told me that I find downright fascinating. However, I shan't press you. I would hate to force you off the path of veracity —"
"If you doubt me," says I stiffly, "you may ask the girl Cassy."
"I already have, and she confirms a great part of your story. Remarkable young woman, that; she has much character." He cracked his knuckles thoughtfully. "Very beautiful, too; very beautiful. Had you noticed? Yes, I guess the Queen of Sheba must have looked something — 'black but comely', wasn't it? However — I was also going to add that your narrative of Randolph fits very well with what I read in the papers about his escape from the steamboat —"
"His escape?"
"Oh, yes, indeed. He turned up, in Vermont of all places, about two weeks ago, and is now in Canada, I understand. The liberal sheets were full of his exploits." He smiled. "I don't hold it against you that there was no mention of you in his very full relation. No mention of anyone, much, except George Randolph. But from all I've heard of him, that is consistent. Extraordinary fellow, he must be. He should be grateful to you, though — up to a point, at least."
"I doubt it," says I.
"Is that so? Well, well, I've no doubt you've noticed that even when gratitude costs nothing, folks are often reluctant to show it. They'll even pay hard money to avoid giving it where it's due. Strange, but human, I suppose." He was silent a moment. "You're sure there's nothing further you wish to tell me, Mr Comber?"
"Why, no, sir," says I. "I can think of nothing —"
"I doubt that very much," says he, drily. "I really and truly do — you've never seen the day when you couldn't think of something. But do you know what I think, Mr Comber — speaking plain, as man to man? I look at you, fine bluff British figurehead, well-spoken, easy, frank, splendid whiskers — and I can't help remembering the story they tell in Illinois about the honest Southern gentleman — you ever hear that one?" I said I hadn't.
"Well, what they say about the honest Southern gentleman — he never stole the Mississippi river. No, don't take any offence. It's as I said in Washington — I don't know about you, except what my slight knowledge of humanity tells me, which is that you're a rascal. But again, I don't know. The trouble with people like you — and me, I guess — is that nobody ever finds us out. Just as well, maybe. But it lays a burden on us — we don't meet with regular punishments and penalties for our misdeeds, which will make it all the harder for us to achieve salvation in the long run." He frowned at the carpet. "Anyway, I'm a lawyer, not a judge.! don't really believe that I want to know all about you. It's enough for me that you brought that girl across the Ohio river today. I don't know why, for what reason, or out of what strange chance. It's sufficient that she's here, and will never wear chains again."
Well, since that was what counted most with him, I was all for it; his talk about suspecting me for a rascal had been downright unnerving. It seemed a good time to butter him a bit.
"Sir," says I eagerly, "all my efforts on that poor unfortunate girl's behalf, the hardships of the flight, the desperate stratagems to which I was forced, the wound taken in her defence — wound, did I say? Scratch, rather — why, all these things would have been without avail had you not championed us in our hour of direst need. That, sir, was the act of a Christian hero, of a sublime spirit, if I may say so."
He stood looking at me, with his head cocked on one side.
"I must have been mad," says he. "Mind you, I quite enjoyed it there, for a moment —" he laughed uncertainly — "at least, now that it's over, I think I did. Do you realise what I allowed myself to do? You, sir, are in a way to being as highly successful a slave stealer as ever I heard of — at least, Arnold Fitzroy Prescott or whatever his name is — he's one. He's also an accessory to two murders — that's what they'd call it, although I'd say it was moral self-defence, myself. But a Southern jury certainly wouldn't agree. In the eyes of the law you're a deep-dyed criminal, Mr Comber — and I, the junior Congressman from Illinois, a pillar of the community, a trusted legislator, a former holder of the United States commission, a God-fearing, respected citizen — it's all there in my election address, and the people believed it, so it must be true — I allowed myself, in a moment of derangement, moved by pity for that girl Cassy's distress — I allowed myself, sir, to aid and abet you. God knows what the penalty is in Ohio for harbouring runaway slaves, assisting slave-stealers, resisting a warranted slave-catcher, and offering to disturb the peace by assault and battery, but whatever it is, I'm not in a hurry to answer for it, I can tell you."
He scratched his head ruefully and began to fidget about the room, twitching at the curtains and tapping the furniture with his foot, his head sunk on his chest.
"Not that I regret it, you understand. I'ld do it again, and again, and again, in spite of the law. Fine thing for a lawyer — humph! But there's a higher thing than the law, and it belongs in the conscience, and it says that evils such as slavery must be fought until the dragon is dead. And in that cause I hope I'll never stand back." He stopped, frowning. "Also, if there's one thing can get my dander good and high, it's a big mouthed Kentuckian hill rooster with his belly over his britches and a sass-me-and-see-what-happens look in his eye. Yes, sir, big-chested bravos like our friend Buck Robinson seem to bring out the worst in me. Still — I don't imagine we'll hear much more from his direction, and if we do, Judge Payne is fortunately a man of considerable influence — or Mrs Payne is, I'm never sure which — and by the time the good judge has come out from under the bedclothes and scrambled into his dignity again, I don't think I'll have much to fret over. Anyway, I can look after myself and lose no sleep. But you, Mr Comber, would be better a long way from here, and as quickly as may he."
Now he was talking most excellent sense; I twisted round from my prone position to cry agreement, and gave my backside a nasty twinge.
"Indeed, sir," says I. "The sooner I can reach England —"
"I wasn't thinking of quite so far as that; not just yet awhile. I know you're all on fire to get home, which is why you say you slipped away in New Orleans in the first place. Pity you allowed yourself to be … uh … distracted along the way. However, since you did, and have broken federal laws in the process, it puts a different complexion on things. For me, you could go home now, but it's not that simple. The way I see it, my government — my country — needs you; they still want you down in New Orleans to give evidence against the crew of — the BaIlioI College, wasn't it? Your testimony, as I understand it, can put those gentlemen where they belong —"