wife says I spoiled him. She says he
owned me quite as much as I owned him--a darned ungrateful cuss! I came
here pretty cross when I got George's letter, and now I hear of an amount
of hostile feeling which rather surprised me."

"That you are surprised, Will, surprises me," said Penhallow. "The
Fugitive-Slave Act will always meet with opposition at the North. It
seems made to create irritation even among people who really are not
actively hostile to slavery. If it became necessary to enforce it, I
believe that I would obey it, because it is the law--but it is making
endless trouble. May I ask what you propose to do about this present
case?"

"Do--oh, nothing! I am advised to employ detectives and hunt the man
down. I will not; I shall go home. It is not Mr. Swallow's advice."

"No, it is not," said the lawyer, who stood aside waiting a chance to
speak. "Some one warned the man, and it is pretty generally suspected how
he came to be told."

Penhallow turned to Woodburn, "Has Mr. Swallow ventured to connect me or
any of my family with this matter?"

"No," said Woodburn, which was true. Swallow meant to keep in reserve
Mrs. Penhallow's share in the escape until he learned how far an angry
slave-owner was disposed to go. Woodburn had, however, let him understand
that he was not of a mind to go further, and had paid in good-humour a
bill he thought excessive. Grey had made it all seem easy, and then as
Swallow now learned had gone away. He had also written to his own
overseer, and thus among their neighbours a strong feeling prevailed that
this was a case for prompt and easy action. The action had been prompt
and had failed. Woodburn was going home to add more bitterness to the
Southern sense of Northern injustice.

When Woodburn, much to Penhallow's relief, had said he was done with the
case, the Squire returned, "Then, as you are through with Mr. Swallow,
come home and dine with me. Where are you staying?"

"At Mr. Swallow's, but I leave by the night train."

"So soon! But come and dine. I will send for your bag and see that you
get to your train."

The prospect of Swallow and his feeble, overdressed wife, and his
comrade's urgency, decided Woodburn. He said, "Yes, if Mr. Swallow will
excuse me."

Swallow said, "Oh, of course!" relieved to be rid of a dissatisfied
client, and the two ex-soldiers went away together chatting of West Point
life.

Half-way up the avenue Penhallow said, "Before we go in, a word