ing discussions, but they
[pass?] and Josiah and Louis are just as friendly as they were before.

There were two arrivals the next evening in the [quiet?] village of S.
One was Charles Collins, the other his Southern friend, who was received
with the warmest welcome, and soon found himself at home in the pleasant
society of his friend's family. The evening was enlivened with social
chat and music, until ten o'clock, when Josiah gathered his children and
having read the Bible in a deeply impressive manner, breathed one of the
most simple and fervent prayers he had ever heard.

While they were bending at prayer in this pleasant home, a shabby
looking man came walking slowly and wearily into the village. He gazed
cautiously around and looked anxiously in the street as though he were
looking for some one, but did not like to trust his business to every
one.

At length he saw an elderly man, dressed in plain clothes, and a broad
brim hat, and drawing near he spoke to him in a low and hesitating
voice, and asked if he knew a Mr. Thomas Carpenter.

"My name is Carpenter," said the friend, "come with me."

There was something in the voice, and manner of the friend that
_assured_ the stranger. His whole manner changed. A peaceful expression
stole over his dark, sad face, and the drooping limbs seemed to be
aroused by a new infusion of energy.

"Come in," said Thomas, as he reached his door, "come in, thee's welcome
to stop and rest with us."

"Anna," said Thomas,[2] his face beaming with kindness, "I've brought
thee a guest. Here is another passenger by the Underground Railroad."

"I'm sure thee's welcome," said Anna, handing him a chair, "sit down,
thee looks very tired. Where did thee come from?"

Moses, that was the fugitive's name, hesitated a moment.

"Oh, never fear, thee's among friends; thee need not be afraid to tell
all about thyself."

Moses then told them that he had come from Kentucky.

"And how did thee escape?"

He said, "I walked from Lexington to Covington."

"Why, that was almost one hundred miles, and did thee walk all that
way?"

"Yes, sir," said he, "I hid by day, and walked by night."

"Did no one interrupt?"

"Yes, one man said to me, 'Where's your pass?' I suppose I must have
grown desperate, for I raised my fists and said dem's my passes; and he
let me alone. I don't know whether he was friendly or scared, but he let
me alone."

"And how then?"

"When I come to Covington I found