Mister Faulkner needed a lackey, therefore he went to the neighboring city as he read that there would be an auction of slaves. He didn't have any preferences, he just wanted him young, with a fair aspect and not too rough in manners.
When Kutkhay was shown on the stand, Mr. Faulkner looked at him with interest and carefully listened to his description. The slave seemed almost a white boy, he had refined traits and a good gait and the price, even if not low, was reasonable. He waited to see if somebody made a bid. There were only two raises. Then Mr. Faulkner made his offer. Nobody made a higher bid so that he could obtain him -- he was satisfied. He took him home and ordered the governess to adapt one of the liveries for the boy. When Kutkhay was ready, wearing the house's livery, he summoned him into the library.
"Listen, boy. I know that you already attempted to escape. Here at my house, if you behave, you will have a good life. But don't try to run away for no reason. As good as I am with the good slaves, so I am hard with the ungrateful ones. Any problem you have, you will talk about it with the overseer, Mr. Smith and if it that's not enough, come to see me. The staff head, Benjamin, will tell you what your tasks will be and will instruct you in them; try to perform them well and to obey. My slaves are the best treated in all the State, as you'll be soon aware. Is it true that you are able to read, boy?"
"Yes, master, read, write and keep accounts."
The master tested him and was more than satisfied. "Well, then, you can also help my secretary, Mr. Fletcher, in the library or with similar tasks. What is your name, boy?"
"My name is Goldie, master."
"Good, Goldie. Have they already given you a room?"
"No, master, not yet."
"Benjamin will settle you in. Go see him now. Ah, and I want my personnel to be always very clean, don't forget that."
Benjamin was a black slave about forty-five years old, staunch but well shaped, his curly hair salt and pepper. He was born in that house a little after his master, and his wife was the governess who raised Mr. Faulkner's children. Benjamin took Kutkhay to the top floor of the wide house, to the attic, where several small rooms had been made. He had him enter in one -- it had a sloping ceiling with a small transom window in its center and two low beds with pallets on the sides, two chests of drawers, two chairs and a small table, with a closet near the door.
"You'll share this room with Lee, the coach driver. He is just a little older than you and he is a good element, I think you'll fit well together. In the closet you'll keep your liveries and your working clothes, always in good order."
He explained the bell signals to him, from that for the gathering of all the personnel, to that for meals, and for a personal call. Then he explained to him what his tasks were as a start.
"When you are not serving at the table, or there are not guests to attend, you will be at the orders of Massa Smith, the overseer, or of Massa Fletcher, the secretary. Don't never talk with the ladies of the house or with the guests, or with the masters if they don't talk to you first, or unless they be sending you with some message. And don't play the dumbass with the slave girls. On Sunday mornings there is the bath for all the male slaves, never miss it; here we are very keen about cleanliness. After the bath, we all go with the masters to church service. They care a lot about that, so be attentive and respectful..." and he continued with the rules and his advice.
Kutkhay carefully listened and everything gave him the impression that he would have a good life in this house; but in his heart he decided that he would again write to his only true master, Patrick, to came to take him back. Meanwhile, he thought, he had to do his best to remain in this house, where it seemed that things were infinitely better than at his previous master's.
That evening, at supper, he met his roommate -- he was a black boy, twenty-two years old, slender, tall, with a nice, honest, frank, smiling face. He had a merry and witty character.
He sat at the table near Kutkhay: "Hey, you are Goldie, I bet."
"Yes..."
"I'm Lee, your roommate. Hey, tell me, you don't snore at night, I hope!"
"I don't know... I'm asleep..." Kutkhay answered with a cunning smile.
Lee laughed with gusto. They both felt they liked each other right off. In that house you could breath good, serene, air. Mamie, the fat cook, was a cheerful and chattering woman, and had a quip ready for everybody. Benjamin's wife, Lizzy the governess, was a beautiful black woman with an efficient and intelligent air, and shining eyes. All together there were a dozen slaves, eight men and four women, and the kitchen was lively and noisy. And the food was good.
After supper, while Mamie was tidying, Lee stood up: "Now, quick get your liveries on, lazy heads!" he exclaimed merrily.
Goldie quickly went upstairs and put on the beautiful red and white livery, with the tight breeches and the jabot, and with the funny white wig with the pony tail he wore for his first time. Lee went upstairs with him, and was lying in his bed. When Kutkhay was ready, he went downstairs with the other three waiters to serve supper for the masters. The family was composed of the master's mother, the master and his wife, a son nineteen years old, and two daughters, one twenty-one and the other sixteen years old. That evening there were no guests but at the table were also seated, as usual, Mr. Fletcher and Mr. Smith. Kutkhay, who was used to serving at table, was impeccable. After the supper, Mr. Fletcher told the boy to follow him into the library.
"Your name is Goldie, right?"
"Yes, Sir."
"I've heard that you are able to read and write. Let's see what your level is. Take that book, open it at any page and read."
Kutkhay complied. After he read a few lines, Fletcher gave him another book: "Read here, now."
The boy read fluently.
"Good, you really can read well. Now sit there, take the pen and that paper and write what I say."
The man started to dictate, walking up and down in front of the table. Then stopped: "I'm going too fast, Goldie?"
"No, sir."
"Let me see... Yes, you wrote all right, and you also have a nice hand. Let's see how you do with numbers now..."and he wrote on the paper some operations that the boy executed both without hesitation and correctly.
"Very good, Goldie, you will be a valuable help. Tomorrow you will start helping me to put some books in order and copying some papers for Mr. Smith. Now I will explain to you how a library functions. Did you ever work in a library, before?"
"No, sir."
"It doesn't matter, it is not difficult. Come here and listen carefully..."
All the evening passed in this way. Kutkhay was glad, as he was learning new things. The boy liked to learn.
When Mr. Fletcher dismissed him, Kutkhay asked: "May I, sir?"
"Yes? Tell me."
"May I read some of these books?"
"Not during the day, you will be busy. But if at night you want to take a book to your room, it is OK. Just be careful to put it back early the next morning, and be careful not to dogear or spoil it. Do you have a lamp in your room so you can read?"
"I don't know... I don't think so, sir."
"If there isn't, ask Benjamin for it. I'll tell him to give you one. Good night, Goldie."
"Good night to you, sir."
Kutkhay went back to his little room. Lee was already asleep. The boy undressed completely, hung the livery in the closet and then, soundlessly, slipped into his own bed.
"I must find the way to write to my young master... anyway, while I am waiting I will not be bad here." he told himself while he was falling asleep.
In the morning Lee shook him to wake him up: "Lazy head, get on, wake up! You have to be ready for the master's breakfast. Get on, hurry up!"
"What? Ah, yes, thank you Lee." Kutkhay answered, pulled off the covers, and jumped out of the bed.
Lee widened his eyes: "What's that? Do you sleep stark naked?"
"Yes, sure. I hate clothes and at least during the night I want to feel free." the boy answered with simplicity.
Lee looked at him while he was dressing: "You really have a fine body, Goldie. And with your livery you are really handsome. Who knows how many girls make sweet eyes to you!"
"No, I don't think so..."
"Did you ever do it with a girl?" the young slave asked him.
"Yes, with my wife... so long ago..."
"Oh, are you married?" Lee asked, again widening his eyes.
"I was." Kutkhay answered putting on the tight breeches,
"And where is she, now?"
"At the village." Kutkhay answered putting on his jabot.
"Do you miss her?"
"No." the boy said quietly while putting on his wig.
Lee kept looking at him carefully: "Yes, you are really handsome in your livery, but possibly... you are better naked." he said with a giggle.
"Could be." Kutkhay answered with a smile and, nodded goodbye to his companion, quickly going downstairs to begin his service.
The slaves ate their breakfast after the masters. Lee came down, he too wearing his livery.
After breakfast he took Kutkhay to one side and whispered to him: "Hey, tell nobody you sleep naked."
"All right. But why?" the boy asked surprised.
"Our master is a real puritan, he would get mad at you."
"Then, I have to sleep clothed?"
"No, you don't have to. Anyway it's only me who can see you and to me, no problem. But it will be better if nobody else knows."
"I understand." the boy said.
But he really didn't understand. He never understood the fear that white men, and their slaves, seemed to have for nudity. He couldn't understand why they judged it an evil thing, to hide. He saw his young master many times without anything on his body -- a naked body is natural, beautiful, and Patrick's was the most beautiful he had ever seen, and he enjoyed very much being able to see it. Still, his young master never slept naked, even if he undressed in front of Kutkhay without problems. How much he missed Patrick, and his sweet caresses... It was enough for him to linger with these thoughts to become aroused. He looked worriedly at his breeches -- happily they were soft, not tight, so nothing betrayed his state of erection.
Sunday morning came, and everybody prepared for the bath. In the carriage house the wide tub for the men was prepared. Each took his bath in turn, but wearing underpants even inside the tub! Kutkhay found it ridiculous and above all uncomfortable. But he followed the custom. He noticed that the wet fabric, adhering to the body, showed up the virile attributes in a clear way and this seemed to Kutkhay even more sensual than complete nakedness. For instance Ephraim, the gardener, who was for sure not a handsome man, and who before bathing seemed not to have anything worth while in his underpants, now showed himself to be really well hung. After rinsing, one after the other, they went behind a provisional screen, pulled off the wet underpants, dried, and put on clean clothes. And finally they could come out.
At evening, after he had served the supper, and carried out his tasks, Kutkhay took a book, went to see Benjamin to fetch the lamp, and went to his room. He undressed, got in his bed and started to read.
After a while Lee came in. "But... are you able to read, Goldie?" he observed, amazed.
"Yes."
"And what are you reading?"
"A story."
"Is it beautiful?"
"I don't know, I just started."
Lee started to pull off his livery. "I would like to be able to read." he murmured.
"If you want, I can teach you. It's not so difficult."
"You really would?" Lee asked with shining eyes.
"Sure."
"When?"
"Right now."
"I'll finish undressing and we can start then?"
"All right."
Lee just left his underpants on. He carefully put away his clothes in the closet, then looked at Kutkhay with a pensive air: "You know, I was thinking... you are possibly right."
"About what?" Kutkhay asked raising his eyes from the book.
"That possibly one feels better without anything on... at least at night..." the black boy answered and swiftly pulled off his underpants. Kutkhay looked at him and noticed that he not only had a well shaped body, but was well done also down there. Lee stood there for a moment, embarrassed at the open way the other was looking at his nudity, then asked: "May I come to sit near you?"
"Come."
Only the thin cover divided their bodies, which barely brushed. Kutkhay felt the warmth of his mate's body and he liked it, but said nothing. He started to tell his companion how to recognize the letters. Lee, engrossed in this new, difficult task, on instinct, to see better the printed pages, leant more against Kutkhay. A light quiver ran across the boy -- he liked that contact. They spent some time that way.
"No, it's useless, I can't!" Lee said after a while.
"You just started! You can't get discouraged."
"No, I am a blockhead..." the boy said with a sad expression.
"No way... I too, at the beginning didn't understand, but..." Kutkhay said circling Lee's waist with his arm. Lee trembled. "Are you cold?"
"A little..."
"Come under the covers then, we will warm each other and we can keep on..." Kutkhay suggested with hope.
"No, thank you. I'll hit my bed. It's better if we sleep, now." Lee answered standing up and slipping under the covers of his bed.
"As you like." Kutkhay answered, somewhat disappointed, then added: "Tomorrow night we will continue, anyway. It's not so difficult, believe me..."
"All right."
"Shall I put out the light, Lee?"
"Yes."
Kutkhay lowered the wick, the little flame languished, darted out one last flicker and then the room plunged into darkness.
After a while Lee asked: "Did you like it with your wife?"
"Neither a yes nor a no," the boy answered.
"How was it?"
"What?"
"Making love..."
Kutkhay thought, then instead of answering he asked: "You never did it?"
"With a woman, never."
"Ah. And... with a man?"
Lee didn't answer at once. Then whispered: "Just once."
"When?"
"I was sixteen."
"With the master?"
"No way! Can you imagine that! It was the stable-boy who slept where you are now." Lee answered amusedly.
"And why just once? You didn't like it?"
"The day after that he had to leave. Our master sold him as he was too lazy and slothful. That last night he came here, into my bed. He embraced me from behind and I felt he was hard like iron. He lowered my underpants. He was trying to take me but I was scared and said him to stop. But he held me stronger and shut my mouth with his hand, and carried on..."
"It has been a bad thing, then..."
"Well, at first I felt weird, I even stopped struggling, even though I was repeating inside myself that I had to make him stop. But he continued, until he managed to... to fill me up, and..." Lee became silent, then asked: "And you?"
"I, what?"
"Did you ever have sex with a man?"
"Yes, several times. And with many men."
"And... did you like it?"
"With a few, yes, very much. Other times, instead, not at all. My last master took money from some men to allow them to use me -- I hated all of them. Nobody should ever be forced to do... such things."
"That's why you tried to run away?"
"Yes, also because I was looking for my real master."
"And with him?"
"Did I make love? No, unhappily not. I would have liked too so much, with him... So much!"
They both became silent, until they fell asleep.
Several days passed. At times he was sent to the stagecoach post- office to send some sealed covers, so once Kutkhay could also send a new letter to his Patrick. In the evenings, in their room, he continued to teach Lee to read. The contact of their naked bodies often awakened Kutkhay's desire, but the boy did nothing to induce his companion to make love. And neither of them touched again on the subject of sex.
But one evening, Kutkhay had just put out the light after the usual lesson and Lee was back in his bed, when the latter said in a whisper barely perceptible: "Do you know Goldie, that I really like looking at your body?"
"Yes, I know. I like it too."
"Looking at me, or being looked at."
"Both." Kutkhay answered smiling in the dark, then added, somewhat hesitantly; "And I would also like to caress your body."
Lee kept silent for a while, then asked: "Why?"
"Because it is beautiful, and warm, and fresh... and..."
"And?" the other asked. Kutkhay was searching for the right words, and Lee insisted: "And?"
"And you are my friend. I had a very close friend, at the village, my same age, his name was Mokoa..."
"It's a funny name. And with him..."
"Yes."
"And... what did you do?" Lee asked in a murmur.
Then Kutkhay told him what he did with Mokoa when they were making love.
At the end Lee asked him: "Do you miss your friend?"
"I miss him..."
"How much?" Lee asked.
Kutkhay didn't answer -- he was recalling all the people with whom he made love with pleasure...
After a while Lee murmured: "Have a good rest, Goldie, my friend."
"You too, my friend."
Kutkhay alternated his job as lackey and waiter with that in the library, where he was now proficient. From time to time he also managed to send secretly another letter to his young master. The friendship with Lee grew stronger, but they never again resumed the talk of that night. Lee was learning to read rather well and was excited and happy. But for Kutkhay these night lessons, naked in his bed, their bodies in contact, divided only by the thin cover, were starting to become difficult -- not so much for the lesson he was willingly giving, but since it was becoming more and more difficult to hide his erections and also control himself. He desired Lee, he desired him to the point of feeling pain. But he didn't bring it upon himself to unveil his desire to his friend, as he thought that Lee was not interested in making love with another male.
But one day they were alone in the hunting lodge of their master, a small octagonal wooden building isolated in the center of the park of the estate, near the little lake, all windows and with four glass doors at opposite sides. They were preparing this pavilion for the engagement ceremony of the elder daughter of their master. They washed all the glass panes and were hanging the curtains. When they finished, they went with a little cart to fetch the cushions to put on the wicker chairs.
As soon as they were back Kutkhay, while they were tying the cushions, looked at Lee bent to his same task and felt awaken strongly in him his desire for his companion. He felt it was time to stop struggling with himself. So, he put down the cushions and went to lock all the four doors.
Lee looked at him stupefied: "What's up, Goldie? Why did you lock up?"
Kutkhay didn't answer, took the cushions from his friend's hands, and then embraced and French kissed him with determination. Lee at first was somewhat stiff, uneasy, but didn't resist him, didn't escape him.
Breathing again, Kutkhay said: "Lee, I want you, I want to make love with you..."
His friend looked at him, then objected, in a hesitant tone, in a whisper: "But people could come..."
"From outside we can't be seen. If they knock at one door, we go out the opposite one... but nobody will come, they are all busy in the mansion..." Kutkhay answered feeling his temples hammering.
He started to unbutton the livery jacket of his friend. Lee was visibly trembling all over, and his face had a frightened expression.
So, Kutkhay asked him, in a last attempt at self control: "Do you want me to stop?"
"No..." Lee answered with hoarse, emotional voice.
Then Kutkhay slipped off Lee's jacket and started to pull off his jabot. His hands too were shaking with emotion. Lee whispered: "Wouldn't it be better tonight, in our room?"
"No, now... here..." the boy answered and, opening Lee's shirt, he started to caress his chest, his sides, his back. Lee let out a sigh and closed his eyes, enjoying the rising pleasure.
"I like touching you, at last, Lee."
"Yes, it's great..."
"Your skin is fresh, Lee."
"But I feel ablaze... How beautiful!"
Kutkhay slipped off Lee's shirt, moved to his back and embraced him, putting his lips at base of his neck, between his shoulder blades and brushing them there. With one finger he brushed a nipple while the other hand lowered to fondle Lee's member through the fabric of his breeches, until he felt the turgidity rapidly growing. Then he whispered in his ear: "I like you, Lee, I like you so much!" and pulled him against himself, making him feel his powerful erection through their clothes.
"It's beautiful, Goldie... Don't stop..." Lee begged lightly panting.
Kutkhay opened his friend's breeches and pushed them to his knees, then untied the string of his underpants so they too slipped down, and he could freely and gently fondle his friend, seizing his beautiful, erect and quivering member.
Lee gave a start, caressed his friend's hands and murmured, stirred: "Oh yes, that's really beautiful!"
Kutkhay gently bit his neck and shoulders.
Then Lee turned around, looked his friend in the eyes and said with intensity: "I want to undress you. Goldie, I want to look at your beautiful body, I want to touch you all over..." and started to undress him with feverish moves, and when Kutkhay was at last naked, Lee started to lick and to kiss him all over his body. Then they embraced tightly and kissed again, intoxicated with desire.
"I want you, Lee." the boy murmured in a passionate voice.
"Yes, take me, Goldie..." his friend sighed.
They glided onto the thick carpet, Lee spread his legs and Kutkhay sank inside him, gently but determinedly. Their bodies tossed and rocked in unison, continuing to French kiss, thirsty one for the other, and in a short while they reached the peak of their pleasure, trying not to moan too aloud.
When at last they relaxed and had gotten dressed, both sated and happy, Lee again kissed him and looking into his eyes with radiant eyes, said: "It has been wonderful, Goldie."
"Yes, my friend."
"We will do it again, right?"
"Sure." the boy answered with a sweet smile.
"Sure." Lee repeated, satisfied.
The black boy put the cushions back in place while Kutkhay opened the doors again. When the pavilion was arranged, Lee went to the carriage house to polish the coaches while Kutkhay went to the kitchen with the small cart to fetch the crockery.
Between the two friends there began a kind of connivance made of small gestures, winking, smiles that passed unnoticed to the house people, but that gave a special taste to the days of the two friends. And every evening, after the reading lesson, they put out the lamp, united with all the ardor and the passion of their youthful, vigorous bodies, and made love with enthusiasm and transport.
Another year had now elapsed and Kutkhay had sent three more letters to Patrick -- even though his master had not yet come to take him back, the boy's hope didn't seem to decrease. Even if he were comfortable in that house, and he fitted wonderfully with Lee, Kutkhay continued to think of Patrick, to dream of him, to write him begging him to come and take him back. He justified to himself the fact that nothing was happening by thinking that possibly the letters had been lost, and therefore in each new letter he always wrote where he was now. Or else he thought that Patrick was too busy to come at once, or possibly even ill... and this last thought made him feel bad. But he didn't stop hoping, and trusting in his young master. At times, in the scarce moments he was not too busy, he loved to walk in the park in back of the mansion, or climb a tree and sit on the fork of a branch, or simply enjoy the good smell of earth, leaves, fresh air. He liked listening to the song of birds, the neighing of horses, being alone. Then he thought a thousand things -- he recalled his tribe, but above all his only, true, adored young master.
He felt well, but one day he was told that the master had decided to give him to the husband of his daughter who was going to live in the East. Kutkhay shyly tried to ask to remain there, but in vain. His master had decided, and that was that, Mr. Fletcher explained to him, and it would be useless and counterproductive trying to make him change his mind. So the boy, resigned, prepared to leave.
The last night he spent in the house he didn't sleep, but made love with Lee until dawn. They parted with infinite sadness.
"I'll miss you terribly, my Goldie."
"I too will, my dear friend."
"What can I do now, without you?"
"You'll find another friend... or possibly a good girl..."
"No, finding a friend like you, will be impossible. I will feel lonely, now, in the nights. But I will continue to read. Yes, and each time I read, I will think of you, of the gift you gave me, of all the gifts you gave me..."
"All the gifts?"
"Yes -- teaching me to read, and teaching me to make love. I'll miss you, you know? Terribly! My soul is filled with sadness, my friend!"
"I too will miss you, I'll really miss you."
"I hope that your real master will find you. And, if it happens, that he finally loves you as I have loved you. I'll pray for that."
"And when it happens, I'll send you a gift... a book."
"I'll wait for it. Farewell, my friend."
"Good bye, my friend. I'll carry you in my heart."
They embraced tightly. Then Kutkhay finished preparing what little luggage he had, and Lee wanted to carry it to the coach. Kutkhay got into the rear seat. The two friends were looking at each other in silence.
"Continue reading, each evening."
"Sure."
"Think of me."
"Sure."
"Good luck, Lee."
"To you too."
Finally the coach started. The two youths continued to look at each other until the road and the dust hid them from each other's sight. Then Kutkhay thought that he was going farther away, not only from his friend Lee but also, more and more, from his young master. Tears slid down his cheeks, mixing with the road dust. The coach was jolting going away and Kutkhay held himself to the roof handrail with both hands. The air ruffled his hair. Inside the coach there was his new master with his wife -- what would his life be like now? His new master, Mister Hogwood, was a young but promising lawyer with political ambitions and came from an influential family in the city where they were going. He was an open-minded man, with modern ideas, and Kutkhay noticed he didn't assume a off-putting attitude with slaves. He had an elegant manner, and was a real gentleman. He was a man of few words, a gentleman abrupt in behavior, but frank and direct in his actions, courteous with everybody, even with the slaves. Kutkhay could possibly have a good life with him also.
The coach stopped at a post station so the horses could rest, and Kutkhay got down to stretch his legs. While his masters went inside to refresh themselves and eat, some food was brought to him and to the coach driver. The coach driver was a middle-aged black man named Dan. Before serving under Mr. Hogwood, he had served under his father.
While they were eating, Dan said: "You'll see, you'll stay well, boy. I saw our master born, I saw him grow up. He is a good master, yes."
"He beats his slaves?" Kutkhay asked.
"No, never!" the man answered shaking his head decidedly.
"Is he important in his town?"
"His family is important. He, not yet, he is young. But he will become so. I think one day he will be governor, you know?"
After the meal, they waited for their masters, then resumed the trip. Dan told him they would arrive at their destination around supper time. Kutkhay watched at the landscape unfold and change -- how wide that country was! And how many people there were! He learned that it was a new land, inhabited by people coming from different countries, from all over the world. The boy had a somewhat vague idea about the "world", notwithstanding that his teacher, Rodney, had explained some things to him. They continued traveling toward the East, and yet the land seemed to never end. He learned that in the East there was another sea, wide almost like that on whose shores he was born. The boy expected to see it appear from one moment to the next, but it was not yet visible.
They passed low mountains and were now in a wide plain. There were no more cotton plantations to be seen, and the trees seemed different in this part. The only thing always the same was the sky of an intense blue, barely revived by occasional clouds of an intense white, in the distance. They passed through several villages and also two towns of middling size. From the back window of the coach he could see the mistress -- she was dozing off and her head dangled at each jolt of the coach. The master was not visible, as he was seated to the other side of her -- at times Kutkhay could just see his hair, dark like his own, but straight. The sun was beginning to set when the first houses of the city started to appear -- they were almost there. They passed through almost all the city. As they neared the center of town, the streets were carefully kept, the houses bigger and more beautiful. Kutkhay observed everything attentively. At last the coach stopped and Dan got down to open the low gate of a garden then, mounted again on his seat, slowly drove the coach to the front of a house -- it was relatively small but delightful, like all the houses of that neighborhood. It was a three-storied building and in front had a garden, not really very big but very well cared for. At the sound of the coach, a couple of slaves appeared at the door of the house -- she must be about twenty-one and he twenty-eight years old.
The man at once rushed to open the coach door and when the master came out, he bent and said: "Welcome home, sir."
"Hallo Sem. Everything was all right while I was gone?"
"Yes, sir."
The mistress also got down from the coach and at once the young black woman went towards her while the master said: "Here is your new mistress, Maggie."
Kutkhay later knew that Sem and Maggie were married -- he acted as waiter and gardener, his wife as cook, governess and waitress, while Dan, beside driving the coach and caring the stable, was also the page.
Kutkhay looked around with interest and curiosity. He was introduced to the three slaves and then Sem, after unloading the master's luggage, guided the boy through the house, showing it to him. On the ground floor were the kitchen and larder, a dining room and a drawing room, the master's studio and the library. On the second floor there was a wide hall and another drawing room, the bedroom of the masters and one for the children who would be born. On the third floor were the guest rooms and the wardrobe and, to one side, four small rooms for the slaves -- one for Dan, two for the couple and one for Kutkhay who again had a small room all to himself. To one side of the garden there was the wash house, the stable, the carriage house and a small storehouse. Behind the house there was another small garden. Kutkhay learned that this was the new, elegant, neighborhood of the city, just built lately. The city was expanding -- just twenty years before it was a village, but now it is an important center with banks, offices, elegant shops and no less than six churches. The Hogwoods descended from the man who founded that center exactly eighty-three years before, therefore they were playfully called by the townspeople 'the town's masters'.
The first night that Kutkhay passed in that house, he was almost unable to sleep -- for the first time he was in the center of a town and he was not used to its noises -- they were different from those of the country. He tried to interpret them, often without succeeding. From the window of his small room he could see other houses with some windows lit here and there. After he undressed, he remained for a long while at the window until the lights went off one after the other. Then he decided to lie down on his bed, hoping to fall asleep soon. Now the town was silent, but even the silence was different. In each place silence has its characteristic, its color, the boy thought.
"I'll have to get used to this kind of silence too!" the boy murmured while his eyes grew heavy and sleep finally seized him.