o-morrow is Sunday.
Shall you go to church?"

"Certainly, Ann. Good-night."

At the door she turned back with a new and relieving thought. "Suppose
I--or we--buy this man's freedom."

"If I owned him that would not be required after what you have told me,
but Woodburn is an obstinate, rather stern man, and will refuse, I fear,
to sell--"

"What will he do with Josiah if he is returned to him as the Act orders?"

"Oh! once a runaway--and the man is no good?--he would probably sell him
to be sent South."

She rose and for a moment stood still in the darkness, and then crying,
"The pity of it, my God, the pity of it!" went away without the usual
courtesy of good-night.

George Grey, when left to his own company, somewhat amazed, began to wish
he had never had a hand in this business. Ann Penhallow went up to her
room, although it was as yet early, leaving John in the library and Grey
with a neglected cigar on the porch. In the bedroom over his shop the man
most concerned sat industriously reading the _Tribune_.

Ann sat down to think. The practical application of a creed to conduct is
not always easy. All her young life had been among kindly considered
slaves. Mr. Woodburn had a right to his property. The law provided for
the return of slaves if they ran away. She suddenly realized that this
man's future fate was in her power, and she both liked and respected him,
and he had been hurt in their service. Oh! why was not James at home?
Could she sit still and let things go their way while the mechanism of
the law worked. Between head and heart there was much argument. Her
imagination pictured Josiah's future. Had he deserved a fate so sad?
She fell on her knees and prayed for help. At last she rose and went down
to the library. John laid down his book and stood up. The young face
greeted her pleasantly, as she said, "Sit down, John, I want to talk to
you. Can you keep a secret?"

"Why--yes--Aunt Ann. What is it?"

"I mean, John, keep it so that no one will guess you have a secret."

"I think I can," he replied, much surprised and very curious.

"You are young, John, but in your uncle's absence there is no one else to
whom I can turn for help. Now, listen. Has Mr. Grey gone to bed?"

"Yes, aunt."

She leaned toward him, speaking low, almost in a whisper, "I do not want
to explain, I only want to tell you something. Josiah is a runaway slave,
John."

"Yes, aunt, he told me all about it."

"Did he, indeed!"