he poured in a little more, without apparently the slightest
effect, and after looking on for a few minutes, I advanced toward the
boy, holding out the cake. But I stopped short, with my hand extended,
looking at him, and then, as he took no notice of the cake, but stared
wildly at me, I broke off a few crumbs, and began to eat before him,
treating him as I would have treated some savage creature I wished to
tame, and breaking off a piece and throwing it within his reach.

Then I went on eating again, and after a time I saw his hand steal
slowly to the bread, his eyes fixed on mine, and he snatched the piece
and conveyed it to his mouth with a motion that was wonderful from its
rapidity.

This I repeated two or three times before feeling that I ought now to
have won his confidence a little, when I went close to him, put down the
cake, and went back to kneel by my father, whose hand was upon the man's
throat.

"Is he getting better?" I said.

There was a shake of the head, and I looked then with a feeling of awe
at the black face before me, with the eyes so close that there was just
a gleam of the white eyeballs visible; but as I gazed, I fancied I saw a
jerking motion in the throat, and I whispered to my father to look.

"A good sign, or a bad one, my boy," he whispered. "You had better go
now, back to the house."

"Yes, father," I said, unwillingly; "but don't you think you can cure
him like you did me when I was so ill?"

"I would to heaven I could, boy!" he said, so earnestly that I was
startled, and the more so that at the same moment the man slowly opened
his eyes, and stared at us vacantly.

"It is a hopeful sign," said my father, and he took the baler, poured
out all but a few drops of water, added some spirit, and placed it to
the man's lips, with the result that he managed to drink a little, and
then lay perfectly still, gazing at my father with a strange look which
I know now was one full of vindictive hate, for the poor wretch must
have read all this attention to mean an attempt to keep him alive for
more ill-treatment, or until he was sold.

"Take a little more," said my father, offering the vessel again, and the
man drank and once more lay still, glaring at us all in turn.

"Why, you'll save him after all, sir," said Morgan, eagerly. "Hurrah!"

But no one paid heed to his remark, for at that moment there was a sort
of bound, and we saw that the boy had contrived to force himself so near
tha