ped off my wet clothes and wrapped me up in a
blanket.

"Him better for some broth!" observed Mammy Coe in a kinder tone than
she had yet used. "Now, young woman, you go to me room, and me give you
some dry clothes, while your man, him go into Massa Bracher's room."

My father, however, first came and had a look at me and almost the
minute afterwards I was fast asleep. When I awoke I saw a person
standing near me, dressed so exactly like Mammy Coe, that at first I
thought it was her, but I quickly discovered that she was my mother.
She had brought me my clothes perfectly dry. I was very glad to put
them on and accompany her to supper in the great hall, where several not
very pleasant-looking personages were seated at a long table, with Mammy
Coe at the head of it. The people appeared to me much alike, with
sallow faces, long hair, untrimmed beards, and bowie-knives stuck in
their belts. I remember remarking that they gobbled down their food
voraciously, and put a number of questions to my father, which he
answered in his usual calm way.

Supper was nearly over when the barking of dogs announced another
arrival. Soon afterwards a tall man wearing a broad-brimmed hat entered
the room, and nodding to the other persons, threw his whip into the
corner and took the seat which Mammy Coe vacated. He stared at my
mother and me. My father rose, concluding that he was the host, and
explained how he happened to be his guest, while Mammy Coe stood by
ready to answer any questions if required. My father narrated our
adventures, stating that we were on our way to visit my mother's
brother, who was supposed to be at the point of death.

"I know Denis O'Dwyer, I guess. He was down with the fever I heard, but
whether he's gone or not I can't say. Some pull through and some don't.
If you find him alive it's a wonder. However, make yourself at home
here, and to-morrow you may start on your journey," observed our host.

My father thanked him, and remarked how much he was indebted to his
slave Dio.

"The boy's good property, I guess," answered Mr Bracher, but not a word
did he say of the black's gallant conduct, and only laughed scornfully
when my father alluded to it.

Our host spoke but little during the remainder of the time we sat at
table, being employed as zealously as his overseers and clerks had been
in devouring his food. My father then again reverted to Dio, and
observed that he was anxious to make a suitable r