s mother drew near, and looked so earnestly into his eyes, that he at
once divined that something unusual was the matter.

"Hush, Harry," she said; "mustn't speak loud, or they will hear us. A
wicked man was coming to take little Harry away from his mother, and
carry him 'way off in the dark; but mother won't let him--she's going to
put on her little boy's cap and coat, and run off with him, so the ugly
man can't catch him."

Saying these words, she had tied and buttoned on the child's simple
outfit, and, taking him in her arms, she whispered to him to be
very still; and, opening a door in her room which led into the outer
verandah, she glided noiselessly out.

It was a sparkling, frosty, starlight night, and the mother wrapped the
shawl close round her child, as, perfectly quiet with vague terror, he
clung round her neck.

Old Bruno, a great Newfoundland, who slept at the end of the porch,
rose, with a low growl, as she came near. She gently spoke his name,
and the animal, an old pet and playmate of hers, instantly, wagging his
tail, prepared to follow her, though apparently revolving much, in this
simple dog's head, what such an indiscreet midnight promenade might
mean. Some dim ideas of imprudence or impropriety in the measure seemed
to embarrass him considerably; for he often stopped, as Eliza glided
forward, and looked wistfully, first at her and then at the house, and
then, as if reassured by reflection, he pattered along after her again.
A few minutes brought them to the window of Uncle Tom's cottage, and
Eliza stopping, tapped lightly on the window-pane.

The prayer-meeting at Uncle Tom's had, in the order of hymn-singing,
been protracted to a very late hour; and, as Uncle Tom had indulged
himself in a few lengthy solos afterwards, the consequence was, that,
although it was now between twelve and one o'clock, he and his worthy
helpmeet were not yet asleep.

"Good Lord! what's that?" said Aunt Chloe, starting up and hastily
drawing the curtain. "My sakes alive, if it an't Lizy! Get on your
clothes, old man, quick!--there's old Bruno, too, a pawin round; what on
airth! I'm gwine to open the door."

And suiting the action to the word, the door flew open, and the light
of the tallow candle, which Tom had hastily lighted, fell on the haggard
face and dark, wild eyes of the fugitive.

"Lord bless you!--I'm skeered to look at ye, Lizy! Are ye tuck sick, or
what's come over ye?"

"I'm running away--Uncle Tom