Presently the carriage could be seen returning up the steep ascent of the hill. As though aware of my intentions all along, the frail Mr Rogers only now managed to stir himself from sleep. He shook slightly, as a puppy might, and then coughed heavily so that his body trembled like a leaf. He rose sheepishly, but stood formally to attention, embarrassed it seemed at having ascended into the higher world and left me unattended in this. Furthermore, he seemed distressed that he should have re-entered this world in such an ill-organized fashion. Our contrite churchman stuttered a few words of apology, then quickly gathered his walking cane and bade me a hearty and warm, if somewhat hurried, farewell. As I watched him climb aboard his carriage I found it difficult to arrest the laughter welling up inside me. Poor Mr Rogers. After enduring the predicament of trying to contain the excesses of his friend's well-lubricated tongue, he then fails wholly to engage with his host and imposes upon her an hour or so of his slumbering silence. I wondered if I would ever again set eyes upon this man's timid face. Goodbye, Mr Rogers!
Feeling near-drained by what had already proved an exhausting and eventful day, I retired to my room to rest and prepare for my customary solitary dinner. Mr Brown had taken to dining alone, either after I had concluded my repast, or before I had begun it, according to his whim. However, I was delivered from a light siesta by a knock upon the door, which then opened. Before me stood Mr Brown, bold and unapologetic in his manner, asking if I might wish to dine with him this evening. I do not know if it was curiosity, or simply surprise that stirred me to agree, whereupon he nodded briskly and withdrew as quickly as he had appeared. The next on the scene was a joyful Stella, who bustled about as though I had in some way achieved a minor success. I resented greatly Stella's gay disposition and now solemnly wished that I had found some way to refuse Mr Brown's crudely presented offer of his company, but clearly it was too late.
And so once again I found myself at my father's table in the company of the enigmatic Mr Brown. However, I was unable to credit my senses when we were at once joined by the same insolent negro woman who, as I had already noted, seemed to exercise some authority in the house beyond that of Stella. I asked Mr Brown outright who was this woman, and had she a position which entitled her to sit with us at table. He gave no more answer than a dismissal of the intrusive black wench with a wave of his hand, as though she were some trifle. She slid out noiselessly, but not before rewarding me with a spontaneous glimpse of her white grinders. Again I demanded some explanation of this slattern's presence, but Mr Brown sighed and answered that she was no more to him than Stella was to me. I thrust iron into my voice and declared that I would never enjoin Stella to sit with me at my dining table. Mr Brown appeared unconcerned, and remarked that when I had spent more time among them I might come to understand that everything is not as in England. This dismissive response made my blood boil, though I soon recaptured my equilibrium. Having achieved this little momentum I pressed on and asked after the nature of the earlier dispute witnessed between himself and the impressive black Hercules. Mr Brown's features assumed a most weary aspect, and he set down his implements as though preparing himself for some lengthy courses of action. Either he would explode in fury, or he would patiently explain to me what I sought to know. I held my breath, for I confess I was a little nervous, unsure as I was which way he might spring, for my understanding of this man was slight. As it happened, I was to be rewarded with an explanation.
He began with a short summary of the deficiency laws, which were introduced with the intention of increasing the white element in these islands. Thus an estate could be fined for having less than one white person to every thirty-five negroes. The fear was of insurrection, and discipline became the chief and governing principle on every estate. Unfortunately, these deficiency laws proved difficult to regulate, for Caribbean emigration was equally difficult to promote. Those who came were usually the poorest sort of tradesmen and clerks, unqualified in any type of plantation work. Carpenters who knew not a saw from a chisel, bricklayers who knew not wood from stone, book-keepers who were illiterate and innumerate, so that the numbers of negroes in proportion to whites was not only growing, but the quality of the whites was rapidly falling. Mr Brown continued at his unhurried pace. 'The old fool you call Hercules is the chief trouble-maker of the estate. He steals, lies and provokes the others to acts of minor rebellion which must be quashed at once.' Mr Brown apologized, yes, he apologized, for any discomfort caused by my witnessing of his behaviour, but he insisted that punishment, varying in severity according to the master's disposition, often called for the use of the whip. With this he rose from the table, bowed and left me to complete my dinner alone.
I must conclude my summary of this remarkable day by acknowledging that I am learning a little about the passions of the white society in these parts. I will now write to Father and tell him of my adventure. I will also relate to him the little I know of his manager Mr Wilson (and his subsequent flight to a neighbouring island), and inform him of the strange presence of this Mr Brown at the helm of his estate. (Good manners will prevent my mentioning, at this time, Mr Brown's friendship with the negro woman.) I also feel compelled, having listened to the words of Mr McDonald with some interest, to recommend that Father either take a more active interest in his estate, which would involve nothing less than a protracted visit, or find some way of relinquishing control, for surely this system of long-distance ownership is contributing to social anarchy in these parts.
I have received an awkward and somewhat surprising communication from Mr McDonald pertaining to last week's lunch with Mr Rogers and myself. It appears that Mr Rogers felt that his colleague's behaviour merited an apology of some form, so he persuaded Mr McDonald to set down his excuses on paper. Heat and drink, an excess of both, are his principal self-exonerations, these plus the novelty of a lady's company and the neglect of proper deportment in such circumstances. I answered briefly, dispatching the letter by way of Stella's network, assuring Mr McDonald that there was no necessity for such over-abundant apologies. If he felt that he had drunk a little too much and over-anointed his tongue, he might rest assured that he had let nothing slip which might be interpreted as in bad taste, nor had he been in any way offensive to myself. No sooner had the letter vanished from my sight than who should present himself at the door to my chamber but me correspondent himself, laden with freshly picked flowers and making supplication in a not wholly appealing fashion. I ushered my visitor back into the central hall where I promised I would soon engage with him. Stella was unable to erase the smile from her face. She took the flowers and undertook to find them a vase in which they might flourish.