I intend
to leave no stone un-turned in searching for her."

"Oh, I _do_ hope that you will succeed. I expect to stop over there a
few days, and I shall be so glad if, before I leave, I hear your search
has been crowned with success, or, a least, that you have been put on
the right track. Although I was born and raised in the midst of
slavery, I had not the least idea of its barbarous selfishness till I
was forced to pass through it. But we lived so much alone I had no
opportunity to study it, except on our own plantation. My father and
mother were very kind to their slaves. But it was slavery, all the same,
and I hate it, root and branch."

Just then the conductor called out the station.

"We stop here," said Robert. "I am going to see Mrs. Johnson, and hunt
up some of my old acquaintances. Where do you stop?"

"I don't know," replied Iola. "I expect that friends will be here to
meet us. Bishop B----, permit me to introduce you to Mr. Robert Johnson,
whom I have every reason to believe is my mother's brother. Like myself,
he is engaged in hunting up his lost relatives."

"And I," said Robert, "am very much pleased to know that we are not
without favorable clues."

"Bishop," said Iola, "Mr. Johnson wishes to know where I am to stop. He
is going on an exploring expedition, and wishes to let me know the
result."

"We stop at Mrs. Allston's, 313 New Street," said the bishop. "If I can
be of any use to you, I am at your service."

"Thank you," said Robert, lifting his hat, as he left them to pursue his
inquiries about his long-lost mother.

Quickly he trod the old familiar streets which led to his former home.
He found Mrs. Johnson, but she had aged very fast since the war. She was
no longer the lithe, active woman, with her proud manner and resolute
bearing. Her eye had lost its brightness, her step its elasticity, and
her whole appearance indicated that she was slowly sinking beneath a
weight of sorrow which was heavier far than her weight of years. When
she heard that Robert had called to see her she was going to receive him
in the hall, as she would have done any of her former slaves, but her
mind immediately changed when she saw him. He was not the light-hearted,
careless, mischief-loving Robby of former days, but a handsome man,
with heavy moustache, dark, earnest eyes, and proud military bearing. He
smiled, and reached out his hand to her. She hardly knew how to address
him. To her colored people were eit