e received the stranger with a kind of surly hospitality,

"I understand," said the young man, "that you bought, in New Orleans, a
boy, named Tom. He used to be on my father's place, and I came to see if
I couldn't buy him back."

Legree's brow grew dark, and he broke out, passionately: "Yes, I did
buy such a fellow,--and a h--l of a bargain I had of it, too! The most
rebellious, saucy, impudent dog! Set up my niggers to run away; got off
two gals, worth eight hundred or a thousand apiece. He owned to that,
and, when I bid him tell me where they was, he up and said he knew,
but he wouldn't tell; and stood to it, though I gave him the cussedest
flogging I ever gave nigger yet. I b'lieve he's trying to die; but I
don't know as he'll make it out."

"Where is he?" said George, impetuously. "Let me see him." The cheeks of
the young man were crimson, and his eyes flashed fire; but he prudently
said nothing, as yet.

"He's in dat ar shed," said a little fellow, who stood holding George's
horse.

Legree kicked the boy, and swore at him; but George, without saying
another word, turned and strode to the spot.

Tom had been lying two days since the fatal night, not suffering, for
every nerve of suffering was blunted and destroyed. He lay, for the most
part, in a quiet stupor; for the laws of a powerful and well-knit frame
would not at once release the imprisoned spirit. By stealth, there had
been there, in the darkness of the night, poor desolated creatures, who
stole from their scanty hours' rest, that they might repay to him some
of those ministrations of love in which he had always been so abundant.
Truly, those poor disciples had little to give,--only the cup of cold
water; but it was given with full hearts.

Tears had fallen on that honest, insensible face,--tears of late
repentance in the poor, ignorant heathen, whom his dying love and
patience had awakened to repentance, and bitter prayers, breathed over
him to a late-found Saviour, of whom they scarce knew more than the
name, but whom the yearning ignorant heart of man never implores in
vain.

Cassy, who had glided out of her place of concealment, and, by
overhearing, learned the sacrifice that had been made for her and
Emmeline, had been there, the night before, defying the danger of
detection; and, moved by the last few words which the affectionate soul
had yet strength to breathe, the long winter of despair, the ice of
years, had given way, and the dark, despa