'Twas in French, and I blessed the chance which enabled me to
understand it, and the woman's wit that had prompted Lucy to choose
this disguise. She said she had learned of what had happened
through the gossip of the servants; the man who had heard my name
in the rest house had mentioned it. She told me that she was
virtually a prisoner. She knew not what Vetch intended (she did not
name him, but wrote of him as cet homme mechant), but she was kept
under strict surveillance; her movements were dogged; and though
she had three times endeavored to make her escape along with the
old nurse who had accompanied her from England, she had always been
prevented, and those who had assisted her had been terribly
punished. Uncle Moses, her father's bodyservant, who was devoted to
her, had been whipped almost to death, and she dared make no
further attempt, for the sake of the poor black people.
Dick Cludde had come up from Spanish Town, she told me, and
crushing down her repugnance to meet him, she had besought him to
interpose. He had seemed troubled, and had gone away, as she
thought, to plead with Vetch, but she had not seen him again. It
was after that that she had heard of my imprisonment. She thanked
me for coming to help her; she knew that was my purpose; had I not
helped her before? and she prayed that I might find some means of
escaping, so that I might take her away and save her from the
wicked man who had her in his power.
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