She nodded her head, but didn’t tell him where either Miss Labrie or Stephan had gone. Alden’s sentiments shifted again, alarm filling his chest once more. The sail of his emotions had risen and fallen rapidly today, like a ship trying to ride out a storm.
“Isaac—could you start setting the tables for Stephan?”
“Yes, sir.”
Once Isaac was gone, Mrs.Barr told him all that had transpired. Miss Labrie was on trial for helping a runaway slave. Stephan was on trial for assisting her.
He had no doubt that the accusations against them both were true.
Mrs.Barr gave him directions for the courthouse. He may not have passed the California bar yet, but he needed to do something to help Miss Labrie and Stephan and hopefully this runaway slave.
“Isaac can take care of himself, but—”
“I’ll watch over him,” Mrs.Barr assured him.
“Thank you.”
The wood-framed courthouse was five blocks from the hotel, over on I Street. By the time he arrived, streams of people were flooding out of the building, the spectators chattering, some even laughing. There was no solemnity after a fateful verdict. No whispering about what was going to happen next.
Perhaps the judge had thrown out the case. Or perhaps Miss Labrie and the others had even won.
When he found Miss Labrie and Stephan by themselves at the front of the courtroom, their faces sober, he knew instantly that there’d be no victory celebration.
Where were the men and women who frequented the Golden’s dining room? Where was Mr.Walsh and the Mr.Kirtland he’d inquired about? Surely, someone in this city should be here alongside Miss Labrie and Stephan, letting them know they weren’t alone.
Alden reached for a chair to join them at the table. “Mrs.Barr told me about the trial.”
Miss Labrie met his eyes, the gold flecks dull in the fading light. “Was she at the hotel?”
“She and Isaac will take care of the guests.” He glanced at her and Stephan, at the exhaustion etched into their faces. “Did the judge find you guilty?”
She nodded slowly. “He fined Stephan and me each a thousand dollars for assisting a runaway.”
It was an enormous sum of money, even by California standards. “Do you have the money?”
She nodded again.
“What happened to the slave?”
Tears filled her eyes. “The judge returned her to the man who’d beaten her.”
Alden leaned forward, his hands pressed together. “Why are you helping this woman?”
“Because it’s the right thing to do,” she said. “No person should be owned by another.”
He studied her eyes again, the rawness in them heartrending. And he felt her pain keenly, like on Christmas morning, when it seemed as if his own heart had been ripped open.
“I have no doubt that her master will make his ownership known tonight,” she said.
He glanced over at Stephan. “It will be even more dangerous for you to help a slave now.”
Stephan’s eyes flashed with a renewed fervor. “I won’t desert Persila, no matter what the court says.”
Alden stared at him, his emotions swept back in the gale. “Persila?”
Miss Labrie wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Do you know her?”
“Is she owned by a man named Mr.Webb?”
