, at
my elbow. I turned and saw that he had old Polete gripped by the collar.
"He tried to run away," he added, "but I thought you might have something
to say to him."

Polete was as near collapse as a man could be and yet be conscious. He
was trembling like a leaf, his eyes were bloodshot, and his lower jaw was
working convulsively. He turned an imploring gaze on me, and tried to
speak, but could not.

"Polete," I said sternly, "I suppose you know that if this night's work
gets out, as it is certain to do sooner or later, no power on earth can
save your life?"

"Yes, massa," he muttered, and looked about him wildly, as though he
already saw the flames at his feet.

"Well, Polete," I went on, "after the way you have acted to-night, I see
no reason why I should try to save you. You certainly did all you could
to get me killed."

"Yes, massa," he said again, and would have fallen had not Long held him
upright by the collar.

I waited a moment, for I thought he was going to faint, but he opened his
eyes again and fixed them on me.

"Now listen," I went on, when he appeared able to understand me. "I'm
not going to kill you. I'm going to give you a chance for your
life,--not a very big chance, perhaps, but a great deal better one than
you would have here."

"Yes, massa," he said a third time, and there was a gleam of hope
in his face.

"I'm going to let you go," I concluded. "I'd advise you to follow the
river till you get beyond the settlements, and then try for Pennsylvania.
I promise you there'll be no pursuit, but if you ever show your face
around here again, you're as good as dead."

Before I had finished, he had fallen to his knees and bowed his head upon
my feet, with a peculiar reverence,--a relic, I suppose, of his life in
Africa. He was blubbering like a baby when he looked up at me.

"I'll nevah f'git yeh, Mas' Tom," he said. "I'll nevah f'git yeh."

"That'll do, uncle," and I caught him by the collar and pulled him to
his feet. "I don't want to see you killed, but you'd better get away from
here as fast as you can, and drop this witch man business for good and
all. Here's two shillings. They'll get you something to eat when you get
to Pennsylvania, but you'd better skirmish along in the woods the best
you can till then, or you'll be jerked up for a runaway."

He murmured some inarticulate words,--of gratitude, perhaps,--and
slid down from the pile of logs. We watched him until he plunged into
th