Denmark looked at Fishy in wonder. He’d never heard a Black woman talk like that, right out in public, in front of a White.

“Let’s hold off on the mutilation, Fishy,” said Margaret. “Again, I think Denmark Vesey may be telling me the truth. He really can’t find the place unless he goes there alone.”

Denmark nodded.

“Well, then. I think we have no further business together,” said Margaret. “You can go now.”

“I want that man,” said Denmark. He glanced at Calvin.

“You’ll never have him,” said Margaret. “He has more power than you can imagine.”

“Can’t be that much,” said Denmark. “Look at him, he’s empty.”

“Yes, he was taken by surprise,” said Margaret. “But you won’t hold him for long.”

“Long enough,” said Denmark. “His body starting to rot. He be dying.”

“You have till the count of three to walk away from me and keep on walking,” said Margaret.

“Or what?”

“One. Or I’ll call out for you to take your filthy paws off of my body.”

Denmark at once backed away. There could be no charge more sure of putting Denmark on the end of a rope without further discussion.

“Two,” said Margaret. And he was gone.

“Now we lost him again,” said Fishy.

“No, my friend, we’ve got him. He’s going to lead us right where we want to go. He can’t hide from me.” Margaret made a slow turn, taking in the view. “Today, I think it’s worth it to splurge on a carriage ride.”

Margaret led Fishy and Calvin to the row of waiting carriages. It took Margaret lifting his foot and Fishy pulling him up to get Calvin’s uncaring body into the coach. The moment Calvin was settled in his seat, Fishy started to get down.

“Please, stay inside with me,” said Margaret.

“I can’t do that.”

As if he were part of their conversation, the White driver opened the sliding window between his seat and the interior of the carriage. “Ma’am,” he said, “you from the North, so you don’t know, but around here we don’t let no slaves ride in the carriage. She knows it, too—she’s got to step out and walk along behind.”

“She has told me of this law and I will gladly obey it. However, my brother-in-law here is prone to get rather ill during carriage rides, and I hope you understand that if he vomits, I am not prepared to hold a bag to catch it.”

The driver considered this for a moment. “You keep that curtain closed, then. I don’t want no trouble.”

Fishy looked at Margaret, incredulous. Then she leaned over and pulled the drapes closed on one side of the coach while Margaret closed them on the other. Once they were closed off from public view, Fishy sat on the padded bench beside Calvin and grinned like a three-year-old with a spoon full of molasses. She even bounced a little on the seat.

The window opened again. “Where to, ma’am?” asked the driver.