moment, and let me speak for my children." He
started, hesitated, and then passed on, and went out of the gate. I closed
the shutter I had partially opened, and sank down behind the barrel. I had
suffered much; but seldom had I experienced a keener pang than I then felt.
Had my children, then, become of so little consequence to him? And had he
so little feeling for their wretched mother that he would not listen a
moment while she pleaded for them? Painful memories were so busy within me,
that I forgot I had not hooked the shutter, till I heard some one opening
it. I looked up. He had come back. "Who called me?" said he, in a low tone.
"I did," I replied. "Oh, Linda," said he, "I knew your voice; but I was
afraid to answer, lest my friend should hear me. Why do you come here? Is
it possible you risk yourself in this house? They are mad to allow it. I
shall expect to hear that you are all ruined," I did not wish to implicate
him, by letting him know my place of concealment; so I merely said, "I
thought you would come to bid grandmother good by, and so I came here to
speak a few words to you about emancipating my children. Many changes may
take place during the six months you are gone to Washington, and it does
not seem right for you to expose them to the risk of such changes. I want
nothing for myself; all I ask is, that you will free my children, or
authorize some friend to do it, before you go."

He promised he would do it, and also expressed a readiness; to make any
arrangements whereby I could be purchased.

I heard footsteps approaching, and closed the shutter hastily. I wanted to
crawl back to my den, without letting the family know what I had done; for
I knew they would deem it very imprudent. But he stepped back into the
house, to tell my grandmother that he had spoken with me at the storeroom
window, and to beg of her not to allow me to remain in the house over night
He said it was the height of madness for me to be there; that we should
certainly all be ruined. Luckily, he was in too much of a hurry to wait for
a reply, or the dear old woman would surely have told him all.

I tried to go back to my den, but found it more difficult to go up than I
had to come down. Now that my mission was fulfilled, the little strength
that had supported me through it was gone, and I sank helpless on the
floor. My grandmother, alarmed at the risk I had run, came into the
storeroom in the dark, and locked the door behind her. "Li