Candle in the Darkness - Lynn N. Austin [26]
I never wanted the glorious music to end. But gradually it calmed down, changing into some of the slow, mournful songs I’d heard the slaves singing early each morning on their way to the fields and coming home again at night. By the time the music died away altogether, the people had found places to sit on the ground or on logs and tree stumps. Then Eli stepped forward to deliver his sermon, and I thought my heart would burst with love and pride. He began in the quiet, gentle voice I loved so much, but as he spoke I sensed a dreadful, wonderful power rising up inside him, transforming him.
“Long time ago,” he began, “God’s people all be slaves—just like us. But pretty soon Massa Jesus hear them groaning down there in Egypt land. He hear how they suffering. He know how they yearn for freedom. That sound reach His ear. And it touch His heart. That’s how I know He hears our groaning, too.”
“Yes!” Some of the slaves began to shout and moan. “Hear us, Lord Jesus!” Eli continued to preach above the sound, spurred on by it, it seemed.
“Pretty soon the time come when Massa Jesus say ‘Enough!’ He say ‘No more’ to this slavery! He say ‘Let my people go!’ ”
There were more cries and shouts of “Halleluia!”
Eli’s voice thundered with power. “That’s how I know time’s gonna come for our freedom, too. Jesus know it ain’t right to make people you property. It ain’t right they sell us like a horse or a bale of cotton. Ain’t right they whip us and treat us like animals. Massa Jesus see everything we suffering, just like He see them Israelites suffering in Egypt land.”
“Yes!”
“Amen!”
“And if we keep praying . . . if we keep believing . . . He gonna do right by us, too. He gonna hear our cry! And He gonna set us free!”
The shouts and cries of joy rose in a great crescendo until I could barely hear Eli above it all.
“ ’Cause the Lord is faithful to His people! He’s a just Lord! A loving God! He gonna set us free from our bondage! Oh, yes sir! One day very soon we gonna be free at last!”
Suddenly Jonathan gripped my arm. When I turned and saw the look of alarm on his face, I nearly cried out in fright.
“What? What’s wrong?” He scrambled from our hiding place, pulling me back the way we had come. “What’s the matter?” I whispered again when we were on the main path.
“Your boy is preaching rebellion! He’s trying to start a slave uprising, telling them they’ll all be set free. This is exactly why slaves aren’t allowed to meet, don’t you see? There’s more of them than there are of us. They’ll rise up and kill us all in our beds some night, just like Nat Turner’s men did.”
“What are you talking about?”
“A slave named Nat Turner started an uprising just like this, right here in Virginia. The slaves went from plantation to plantation one night, slaughtering white people in their beds—even women and children.”
“Eli would never do that!”
“You’re very naïve, Caroline. All it takes is one or two troublemakers to start a mob. We can’t let them plan a rebellion. We have to go warn Father.”
“No, wait! That wasn’t what Eli was saying. He wasn’t telling them to rebel—”
“Caroline, we’re wasting time!”
I was desperate to stop him. I couldn’t let Eli get into trouble. I was certain my cousin had misunderstood. “Wait!” I pleaded. “Wouldn’t it be better if we stayed a few more minutes and heard exactly what they’re planning?” The shouting and singing had died down once again. Eli had resumed preaching.
Jonathan looked toward the clearing, then at the path home, then back toward the clearing again, as if trying to decide what to do. At last, he reluctantly agreed. “All right. We’ll stay until we find out what their plans are.”
We crawled back to our hiding place in time to hear Eli say, “Now, don’t y’all be getting ahead of the Lord. That’s what Moses try