His hair which was nearly straight, hung
in curls upon his lofty brow. George Combe or Fowler would have
selected his head for a model. He was brave and daring, strong in
person, fiery in spirit, yet kind and true in his affections,
earnest in his doctrines. Clotelle had been at the parson's but a
few weeks when it was observed that a mutual feeling had grown up
between her and Jerome. As time rolled on, they became more and
more attached to each other. After satisfying herself that these
two really loved, Georgiana advised their marriage. But Jerome
contemplated his escape at some future day, and therefore feared
that if married it might militate against it. He hoped, also, to
be able to get Clotelle away too, and it was this hope that kept
him from trying to escape by himself. Dante did not more love his
Beatrice, Swift his Stella, Waller his Saccharissa, Goldsmith his
Jessamy bride, or Bums his Mary, than did Jerome his Clotelle.
Unknown to her father, Miss Wilson could permit these two slaves
to enjoy more privileges than any of the other servants. The young
mistress taught Clotelle, and the latter imparted her instructions
to her lover, until both could read so as to be well understood.
Jerome felt his superiority, and always declared that no master
should ever flog him. Aware of his high spirit and determination,
Clotelle was in constant fear lest some difficulty might arise
between her lover and his master.
One day Mr. Wilson, being somewhat out of temper and irritated at
what he was pleased to call Jerome's insolence, ordered him to
follow him to the barn to be flogged.
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