much satisfaction.

Poor Hester shuddered.

"It is an awful place," she said faintly.

"Yes, it am a awrful good place," said Dinah, with satisfaction. "Not
easy to find you yar; an' if dey did git dis lengt' widout breakin' dere
legs, dere's a nice leetil hole yar what you could git in an' larf to
youself."

She led the poor girl to the other end of the room, where, in a recess,
there was a boarded part of the wall. Removing one of the boards, she
disclosed an opening.

"Das a small hole, Geo'giana, but it's big enough to hold _you_, an'
when you's inside you've on'y got to pull de board into its place, and
fix it--so."

Setting down the candle, the woman stepped into the hole, and went
through the performance that would devolve upon Hester in case of
emergency.

"But why leave me here at all?" pleaded Hester, when Dinah had exhausted
her eulogy of the hiding-place. "Why not take me to your own home?"

"Cause it's not so safe as dis," answered Dinah. "P'r'aps in time you
may come dere--not now. Moreober, Missis Lilly is a fuss-rate creetur,
most as good as myself, if her temper was a leetil more 'eavenly. But
she's a winged serubim wid dem as don't rile 'er, an' she'll be awrful
good to you for my sake an' Peter's. You see, we was all on us took by
the pints at de same time, and we're all Christ'ns but ob course we
don't say much about dat yar!"

"And am I to be always dumb--never to speak at all?" asked Hester, in a
rather melancholy tone.

"Oh! no--bress you! It's on'y when you're in de front or outside dat
you's dumb. When you's back yar you may speak to Lilly an' Sally much
as you like, on'y not too loud; an' keep your eyes open, an' your ears
sharp always. If you don't it's lost you will be. Don't forgit Osman!"

Hester shuddered again; said that she would _never_ forget Osman, and
would be as careful and attentive to orders as possible.

"An' dey'll gib you a little work to do--not much--on'y a little. When
peepil speak to you, just point to your ears and mout', an' shake your
head. Das enuff. Dey won't boder you arter dat. Now, dearie, I must
go. I'll come an' see you sometimes--neber fear. What's to become ob
you in de long-run's more'n I kin tell, for it's Peter de Great as'll
hab to settle dat kestion. You's in his hands. I knows not'ing, so
you'll hab to be patient."

Patient, indeed! Little did that poor painted slave think what demands
would yet be made upon her patienc