Дванадцять років рабства

           "I’md—d,Platt,ifIdon’tbelieveyoutellthetruth. Hemusttakemeforasoft,tothinkhecancomeitovermewiththemkindofyarns,musn’the? Maybehethinkshecanfoolme;maybehethinksIdon’tknownothing—can’ttakecareofmyownniggers,eh! SoftsoapoldEpps,eh! Ha,ha,ha! D—nArmsby! Setthedogsonhim,Platt,"andwithmanyothercommentsdescriptiveofArmsby’sgeneralcharacter,andhiscapabilityoftakingcareofhisownbusiness,andattendingtohisown"niggers,"MasterEppsleftthecabin. AssoonashewasgoneIthrewtheletterinthefire,and,withadespondinganddespairingheart,beheldtheepistlewhichhadcostmesomuchanxietyandthought,andwhichIfondlyhopedwouldhavebeenmyforerunnertothelandoffreedom,writheandshrivelonitsbedofcoals,anddissolveintosmokeandashes. Armsby,thetreacherouswretch,wasdrivenfromShaw’splantationnotlongsubsequently,muchtomyrelief,forIfearedhemightrenewhisconversation,andperhapsinduceEppstocredithim. 

           Iknewnotnowwhithertolookfordeliverance. Hopessprangupinmyheartonlytobecrushedandblighted. Thesummerofmylifewaspassingaway; IfeltIwasgrowingprematurelyold; thatafewyearsmore,andtoil,andgrief,andthepoisonousmiasmasoftheswampswouldaccomplishtheirworkuponme—wouldconsignmetothegrave’sembrace,tomoulderandbeforgotten. Repelled,betrayed,cutofffromthehopeofsuccor,Icouldonlyprostratemyselfupontheearthandgroaninunutterableanguish. Thehopeofrescuewastheonlylightthatcastarayofcomfortonmyheart.