gon, no necessity to get the horses."

On running back to the hill on which Dan was standing, I saw the waggon
coming along, driven at a quick rate by Peter, while Mr Tidey was
seated with his rifle between his knees, close behind him. I could not
discover a third person, and I began to fear that the negro had died or
been captured by his pursuers. This was a great disappointment, and I
pictured to myself the misery of the poor fellow, should he have been
dragged back into slavery.

While returning by a path running alongside the hill, we lost sight of
the waggon. On our arrival at the house, however, it had just reached
the foot of the hill. We here found our father, mother, and Kathleen,
standing at the doorway to welcome Mr Tidey, and to hear what had
happened.

At that moment a person rose from the bottom of the waggon, and, leaping
to the ground, came running towards us. It was the black we had
discovered. For an instant he stopped and gazed in my father's face,
then darting forward, he seized his hand and pressed it to his lips,
exclaiming--

"Oh, massa! dis niggar Dio know you; nebber forget you, massa; you
remember de poor slave niggar who pulled de little boy out of de water?"

"Remember you, my good fellow!" exclaimed my father, wringing his hand.
"I have never forgotten you; you saved my boy's life, and probably my
wife's too. There they both stand, though you don't perhaps remember
them."

Dio gazed at my mother, then at Dan and me.

"De lady, yes! remember her," and he made an obeisance to my mother.
"But de little boy him not know which," and he looked first at me then
at Dan.

"That's the one," said my father, pointing to me, "he has grown
considerably since then, but he has not forgotten you."

"No indeed I have not," I said, "and now I know who you are, I'm doubly
thankful that we fell in with you."

"Ah, massa, dis niggar gone coon if you hadn't found him," answered Dio.

"I'm very glad that they did find you, Dio; but how did you happen to be
in such a condition?" asked my father.

The negro fixed his eyes on my father's countenance--

"Massa, me tell you de tru's. Dat cruel man, Bracher, him make de poor
niggar's back sore wid de lash, and den, when he find I lub one darkey
girl, him beat her too and den sell her for fifty dollars, 'cos she
almost dead. It almost break her heart, and her jump into de riber and
drown herself. Den Dio tink if him stay him shoot Masser Bracher,