tion life when a girl on a great
Maryland manor. That she could betray to servitude the years of
grey-haired freedom seemed to John incredible of the angel of kindly
helpfulness. He stood still in thought, troubled by his boy-share of
puzzle over a too mighty problem.

Josiah, a little uneasy, said, "What was you thinkin', Mr. John?"

The young fellow replied smiling, "Do you think Aunt Ann would hurt
anybody? Do you think she would send word to some one--to take you back?
Anyhow she can't know who was your master."

The old black nodded slowly, "Mr. John, she born mistress and I born
slave; she can't help it--and they was good people too--all the people
that owned me. They liked me too. I didn't have to work except holdin'
horses and trainin' colts--and housework. They was always kind to me."

"But why did you run away?"

"Well, Mr. John, it was sort of sudden. You see ever since I could
remember there was some one to say, Caesar you do this, or you go there.
One day when I was breakin' a colt, Mr. Woodburn says to me--I was
leanin' against a stump--how will that colt turn out? I said, I don't
know, but I did. It wasn't any good. My mind was took up watchin' a hawk
goin' here and there over head like he was enjoyin' hisself. Then--then
it come over me--that he'd got no boss but God. It got a grip on me
like--" The lad listened intently.

"You wanted to be free like the hawk."

"I don't quite know--never thought of it before--might have seen lots of
hawks. I ain't never told any one."

"Are you glad to be free?"

"Ah, kind of half glad, sir. I ain't altogether broke in to it. You see
I'm old for change."

As he ended, James Penhallow reappeared. "Got through, John? You look
years older. Your aunt will miss those curly locks." He went into the
shop as John walked away, leaving Josiah who would have liked to add a
word more of caution and who nevertheless felt somehow a sense of relief
in having made a confession the motive force of which he would have found
it impossible to explain.

John asked himself no such question as he wandered deep in boy-thought
along the broken line of the village houses. Josiah's confidence troubled
and yet flattered him. His imagination was captured by the suggested idea
of the wild freedom of the hawk. He resolved to be careful, and felt more
and more that he had been trusted with a secret involving danger.

While John wandered away, the barber cut the Squire's hair, and to his