He didn't come, and the girl's face grew sadder and whiter, and her eyes
had in them always an expectant, wistful look, as if waiting for some
one or something, which would lift from her the dark cloud under which
she was laboring. Jake, who had returned from Richmond, suffered nearly
as much as she did. His pride in his family--such as the family was--was
great, and his affection for his young mistress unbounded.

"Only tell me whar he is an' I'll done fetch him, or kill him," he said,
when in an agony of tears she laid her baby in his lap and said,
"Another for you to care for till he comes, as I know he will."

Eudora had said to the stranger that Jake would kill him if anything
happened to her, but now at the mention of killing him she shuddered and
replied, "No, Jake, not that. You'll know sometime. I can't explain. I
done promised more than once. The last time was by that grave yonder,
when he was sayin' good-by. It was same as an oath. I was to go to
school and learn to be a lady, but baby has come, and I can't go now. It
will make some differ with him perhaps, an' he'll come for baby's sake.
You b'lieve me, Jake?"

"Yes, honey--same as ef 'twas de Lawd himself talkin' to me, an' I'll
take keer of de little one till he comes, an' if I sees somebody winkin'
or hunchin' de shoulder, I'll--I'll--"

Jake clenched his fist to show what he would do, and hugging the baby to
him, continued, "Dis my 'ittle chile till its fader comes; doan' you
worry. I'se strong an' kin work, an' Mandy Ann's done got to stir de
stumps more'n she has."