“There are monkeys among white people as well asblack， when you come to that，” coolly remarked Bass. “Iknow some white men that use arguments no sensiblemonkey would. But let that pass. These niggers arehuman beings. If they don’t know as much as theirmasters， whose fault is it？ They are not allowed toknow anything. You have books and papers， and can gowhere you please， and gather intelligence in a thousandways. But your slaves have no privileges. You’d whipone of them if caught reading a book. They are held inbondage， generation after generation， deprived of mentalimprovement， and who can expect them to possessmuch knowledge？ If they are not brought down to a levelwith the brute creation， you slaveholders will never beblamed for it. If they are baboons， or stand no higher inthe scale of intelligence than such animals， you and menlike you will have to answer for it. There’s a sin， a fearfulsin， resting on this nation， that will not go unpunishedforever. There will be a reckoning yet—yes， Epps， there’sa day coming that will burn as an oven. It may be sooneror it may be later， but it’s a coming as sure as the Lord isjust.”
“If you lived up among the Yankees in New-England，”
said Epps， “I expect you’d be one of them cursed fanaticsthat know more than the constitution， and go aboutpeddling clocks and coaxing niggers to run away.”
“If I was in New-England，” returned Bass， “I wouldbe just what I am here. I would say that Slavery was aniniquity， and ought to be abolished. I would say therewas no reason nor justice in the law， or the constitutionthat allows one man to hold another man in bondage. Itwould be hard for you to lose your property， to be sure，but it wouldn’t be half as hard as it would be to lose yourliberty. You have no more right to your freedom， in exactjustice， than Uncle Abram yonder. Talk about black skin，and black blood； why， how many slaves are there on thisbayou as white as either of us？ And what difference isthere in the color of the soul？ Pshaw！ the whole systemis as absurd as it is cruel. You may own niggers andbehanged， but I wouldn’t own one for the best plantationin Louisiana.”
“You like to hear yourself talk， Bass， better than anyman I know of. You would argue that black was white， orwhite black， if any body would contradict you. Nothingsuits you in this world， and I don’t believe you will besatisfied with the next， if you should have your choice inthem.”
Conversations substantially like the foregoing werenot unusual between the two after this； Epps drawinghim out more for the purpose of creating a laugh at hisexpense， than with a view of fairly discussing the meritsof the question. He looked upon Bass， as a man ready tosay anything merely for the pleasure of hearing his ownvoice； as somewhat self-conceited， perhaps， contending against his faith and judgment， in order， simply， toexhibit his dexterity in argumentation.
He remained at Epps’ through the summer， visitingMarksville generally once a fortnight. The more I sawof him， the more I became convinced he was a man inwhom I could confide. Nevertheless， my previous illfortunehad taught me to be extremely cautious. It wasnot my place to speak to a white man except when spokento， but I omitted no opportunity of throwing myself in hisway， and endeavored constantly in every possible mannerto attract his attention. In the early part of August heand myself were at work alone in the house， the othercarpenters having left， and Epps being absent in the field.
Now was the time， if ever， to broach the subject， and Iresolved to do it， and submit to whatever consequencesmight ensue. We were busily at work in the afternoon，when I stopped suddenly and said—
“Master Bass， I want to ask you what part of thecountry you came from？”
“Why， Platt， what put that into your head？” he answered.
“You wouldn’t know if I should tell you.” After a momentor two he added— “I was born in Canada； now guesswhere that is.”
“Oh， I know where Canada is，” said I， “I have beenthere myself.”
“Yes， I expect you are well acquainted all through thatcountry”， he remarked， laughing incredulously.
“As sure as I live， Master Bass，” I replied， “I have been there. I have been in Montreal and Kingston， andQueenston， and a great many places in Canada， and Ihave been in York State， too—in Buffalo， and Rochester，and Albany， and can tell you the names of the villages onthe Erie canal and the Champlain canal.”
Bass turned round and gazed at me a long timewithout uttering a syllable.
“How came you here？” he inquired， at length， “MasterBass，” I answered， “if justice had been done， I neverwould have been here.”
“Well， how’s this？” said he. “Who are you？ You havebeen in Canada sure enough； I know all the places youmention. How did you happen to get here？ Come， tell meall about it.”
“I have no friends here，” was my reply， “that I canput confidence in. I am afraid to tell you， though I don’tbelieve you would tell Master Epps if I should.”
He assured me earnestly he would keep every word Imight speak to him a profound secret， and his curiositywas evidently strongly excited. It was a long story， Iinformed him， and would take some time to relate it.
Master Epps would be back soon， but if he would see methat night after all were asleep， I would repeat it to him. Heconsented readily to the arrangement， and directed me tocome into the building where we were then at work， and Iwould find him there. About midnight， when all was stilland quiet， I crept cautiously from my cabin， and silentlyentering the unfinished building， found him awaiting me.
After further assurances on his part that I shouldnot be betrayed， I began a relation of the history of mylife and misfortunes. He was deeply interested askingnumerous questions in reference to localities and events.
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