s girl."

"Mamma, they say she's an abolitionist."

"That's what I send you for. It's a race between you and your father. Be
with me or with him!"

The girl tied on her hood, took her riding-whip, and departed.

In an hour she returned with a tidy black woman, whom Mrs. Clark took
into Virgie's chamber.

"My heart bleeds for this poor girl," the hostess said. "They say your
son spirits negroes North. Mr. Clark says so. I do not ask you if it is
true, but, as one mother to another, I give you this girl. She is too
white to be sold. She looks like a dead child of mine."

"Bill is not due home till sunset. If she is alive by that time, he has
just time to drive her to Mr. Zeke Hunn's vessel at the mouth of the
creek, which lies there every trip one hour--"

"To let runaways come aboard?"

"I have never been accused of helping them, Mrs. Clark."

The trader's wife slipped a bank-bill into the colored woman's hand.

"Lend to the Lord!" she said. "I depend upon you to save us the sin of
selling this girl."

* * * * *

There came to the little black house that lurked by the woods two
riding-horses, and stopped at the stile.

"Wait here!" said the voice of Devil Jim Clark. "Will you take her if
she is still delirious?"

"Bingavast! Why not? I'm delirious myself, Jim, fur it's my
wedding-night. I'll rest her at Punch Hall."

The herculean ruffian coolly proceeded to prepare some saddle-ropes to
tie his victim before him on his horse. He was interrupted by a woman:

"Come and see your work, Joe Johnson!"

Following up the short cupboard stairs, the kidnapper was pointed to an
object on the bed, with peaked face and sharpened feet, as it lay white
as lime, with eyelashes folded and the arms drawn to its sides.

"Take her to Patty Cannon now," said Mrs. Clark, "who is only fit for
dead company."

"The dell dead and undocked?" the ruffian exclaimed, slightly shrinking
from the body; "maybe she's counterfeited the cranke. I'll search her
cly. But, hark!"

A wagon and hoofs were heard.

"Joe," whispered the woman's husband, "you're only four mile from Dover.
Maybe it's warrants for both of us?"

"Hike, then!" hissed the pallid murderer; "the world's agin me," and he
slipped away with his companion.

* * * * *

"Now, Bill Brinkley," the wife of Devil Jim whispered, as a tall,
ingenuous-looking colored boy came in the room, "you are just in time