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tion life when a girl on a great Maryland manor. That she could betray to servitude the years of grey-haired freedom seemed to John incredible of the angel of kindly helpfulness. He stood still in thought, troubled by his boy-share of puzzle over a too mighty problem. Josiah, a little uneasy, said, "What was you thinkin', Mr. John?" The young fellow replied smiling, "Do you think Aunt Ann would hurt anybody? Do you think she would send word to some one--to take you back? Anyhow she can't know who was your master." The old black nodded slowly, "Mr. John, she born mistress and I born slave; she can't help it--and they was good people too--all the people that owned me. They liked me too. I didn't have to work except holdin' horses and trainin' colts--and housework. They was always kind to me." "But why did you run away?" "Well, Mr. John, it was sort of sudden. You see ever since I could remember there was some one to say, Caesar you do this, or you go there. One day when I was breakin' a colt, Mr. Woodburn says to me--I was leanin' against a stump--how will that colt turn out? I said, I don't know, but I did. It wasn't any good. My mind was took up watchin' a hawk goin' here and there over head like he was enjoyin' hisself. Then--then it come over me--that he'd got no boss but God. It got a grip on me like--" The lad listened intently. "You wanted to be free like the hawk." "I don't quite know--never thought of it before--might have seen lots of hawks. I ain't never told any one." "Are you glad to be free?" "Ah, kind of half glad, sir. I ain't altogether broke in to it. You see I'm old for change." As he ended, James Penhallow reappeared. "Got through, John? You look years older. Your aunt will miss those curly locks." He went into the shop as John walked away, leaving Josiah who would have liked to add a word more of caution and who nevertheless felt somehow a sense of relief in having made a confession the motive force of which he would have found it impossible to explain. John asked himself no such question as he wandered deep in boy-thought along the broken line of the village houses. Josiah's confidence troubled and yet flattered him. His imagination was captured by the suggested idea of the wild freedom of the hawk. He resolved to be careful, and felt more and more that he had been trusted with a secret involving danger. While John wandered away, the barber cut the Squire's hair, and to his
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