r regarded slaves as property, sir. And conservative people"
(Stephen stuck to the word) "respect property the world over. My
father's argument was this: If men are deprived by violence of one kind
of property which they hold under the law, all other kinds of property
will be endangered. The result will be anarchy. Furthermore, he
recognized that the economic conditions in the South make slavery
necessary to prosperity. And he regarded the covenant made between the
states of the two sections as sacred."

There was a brief silence, during which the uncompromising expression of
the Judge did not change.

"And do you, sir?" he demanded.

"I am not sure, sir, after what I saw yesterday. I--I must have time to
see more of it."

"Good Lord," said Colonel Carvel, "if the conservative people of
the North act this way when they see a slave sale, what will the
Abolitionists do? Whipple," he added slowly, but with conviction, "this
means war."

Then the Colonel got to his feet, and bowed to Stephen with ceremony.

"Whatever you believe, sir," he said, "permit me to shake your hand. You
are a brave man, sir. And although my own belief is that the black race
is held in subjection by a divine decree, I can admire what you have
done, Mr. Brice. It was a noble act, sir,--a right noble act. And I have
more respect for the people of Boston, now, sir, than I ever had before,
sir."

Having delivered himself of this somewhat dubious compliment (which he
meant well), the Colonel departed.

Judge Whipple said nothing.

CHAPTER VII. CALLERS

If the Brices had created an excitement upon their arrival, it was as
nothing to the mad delirium which raged at Miss Crane's boarding-house.
during the second afternoon of their stay. Twenty times was Miss Crane
on the point of requesting Mrs. Brice to leave, and twenty times, by the
advice of Mrs. Abner Deed, she desisted. The culmination came when the
news leaked out that Mr. Stephen Brice had bought the young woman in
order to give her freedom. Like those who have done noble acts since the
world began, Stephen that night was both a hero and a fool. The cream
from which heroes is made is very apt to turn.

"Phew!" cried Stephen, when they had reached their room after tea,
"wasn't that meal a fearful experience? Let's find a hovel, mother, and
go and live in it. We can't stand it here any longer."

"Not if you persist in your career of reforming an Institution, my son,"
answered the