no man to call me
master, and certainly not any woman; though I don't belong to the
chivalry."

His prediction proved true. The Deacon and his son-in-law held
frequent consultations. "This Mr. King is rich as Croesus," said the
Deacon; "and if he thinks his wife owes a debt to Tulee, he'll be
willing to give a round sum for her children. I reckon you can make a
better bargain with him than you could in the New Orleans market."

"Do you suppose he'd give five thousand dollars for the young
niggers?" inquired the trader.

"Try him," said the Deacon.

The final result was that the sum was deposited by Mr. King, to be
paid over whenever Tulee's children made their appearance; and in due
time they all arrived. Tulee was full of joy and gratitude; but Mr.
Bright always maintained it was a sin and a shame to pay slave-traders
so much for what never belonged to them.

Of course there were endless questions to be asked and answered
between the sisters and their faithful servant; but all she could tell
threw no further light on the destiny of the little changeling whom
she supposed to be Rosa's own child. In the course of these private
conversations, it came out that she herself had suffered, as all women
must suffer, who have the feelings of human beings, and the treatment
of animals. But her own humble little episode of love and separation,
of sorrow and shame, was whispered only to Missy Rosy and Missy Flory.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

The probability that the lost child was alive and in slavery was
a very serious complication of existing difficulties. Thinking it
prudent to prepare Gerald's mind for any contingencies that might
occur, Mr. King proceeded immediately to Boston to have a conference
with him. The young man received the news with unexpected composure.

"It will annoy Lily-mother very much," said he, "and on that account
I regret it; but so far as I am myself concerned, it would in some
respects be a relief to me to get out of the false position in which I
find myself. Grandfather Bell has always grumbled about the expense I
have been to him in consequence of my father's loss of fortune, and of
course that adds to the unpleasantness of feeling that I am practising
a fraud upon him. He is just now peculiarly vexed with me for leaving
Northampton so suddenly. He considers it an unaccountable caprice of
mine, and reproaches me with letting Eulalia slip through my fingers,
as he expresses it. Of course, he has