, she heard horse's hoofs
behind her. She began to run faster, but it was of no use. Soon
Captain Abraham French loomed up on his big gray horse, a few paces
from her. He was Hannah's father, but he was a tithing-man, and
looked quite stern, and Ann had always stood in great fear of him.

She ran on as fast as her little heels could fly, with a thumping
heart. But it was not long before she felt herself seized by a strong
arm and swung up behind Captain French on the gray horse. She was in
a panic of terror, and would have cried and begged for mercy if she
had not been in so much awe of her captor. She thought with awful
apprehension of these stolen indentures in her little pocket. What if
he should find that out!

Captain French whipped up his horse, however, and hastened along
without saying a word. His silence, if anything, caused more dread in
Ann than words would have. But his mind was occupied. Deacon Thomas
Wales was dead; he was one of his most beloved and honored friends,
and it was a great shock to him. Hannah had told him about Ann's
premeditated escape, and he had set out on her track, as soon as he
had found that she was really gone, that morning. But the news, which
he had heard on his way, had driven all thoughts of reprimand which
he might have entertained, out of his head. He only cared to get the
child safely back.

So, not a word spoke Captain French, but rode on in grim and
sorrowful silence, with Ann clinging to him, till he reached her
master's door. Then he set her down with a stern and solemn
injunction never to transgress again, and rode away.

Ann went into the kitchen with a quaking heart. It was empty and
still. Its very emptiness and stillness seemed to reproach her. There
stood the desk--she ran across to it, pulled the indentures from her
pocket, put them in their old place, and shut the lid down. There
they staid till the full and just time of her servitude had expired.
She never disturbed them again.

On account of the grief and confusion incident on Deacon Wales'
death, she escaped with very little censure. She never made an
attempt to run away again. Indeed she had no wish to, for after
Deacon Wales' death, grandma was lonely and wanted her, and she
lived, most of the time, with her. And, whether she was in reality,
treated any more kindly or not, she was certainly happier.

II

Deacon Thomas Wales' Will

In the Name of God Amen! the Thirteenth Day of September One Tho