ab waited patiently for ten-fifteen year, an' more. What
den? Sure to 'scape sooner or later. Many are ransum in a year or two.
Oders longer. Lots ob 'em die, an' 'scape dat way. Keep up your
heart, Geo'ge, whateber you do, and, if you won't break your
word-ob-honour, something else'll be sure to turn up."

Although the negro's mode of affording comfort and encouragement was not
based entirely on sound principles, his cheery and hopeful manner went a
long way to lighten the load of care that had been settling down like a
dead weight on young Foster's heart, and he returned to his work with a
happier spirit than he had possessed since the day he leaped upon the
deck of the pirate vessel. That night he spent under the same roof with
his black friend and a number of the other slaves, none of whom,
however, were his countrymen, or could speak any language that he
understood. His bed was the tiled floor of an out-house, but there was
plenty of straw on it. He had only one blanket, but the nights as well
as days were warm, and his food, although of the simplest kind and
chiefly vegetable, was good in quality and sufficient in quantity.

The next day, at the first blush of morning light, he was aroused with
the other slaves by Peter the Great, who, he found, was the Moor's
overseer of domestics. He was put to the same work as before, but that
day his friend the negro was sent off on a mission that was to detain
him several days from home. Another man took Peter's place, but, as he
spoke neither English nor French, no communication passed between the
overseer and slave except by signs. As, however, the particular job on
which he had been put was simple, this did not matter. During the
period of Peter's absence the poor youth felt the oppression of his
isolated condition keenly. He sank to a lower condition than before,
and when his friend returned, he was surprised to find how much of his
happiness depended on the sight of his jovial black face!

"Now, Geo'ge," was the negro's first remark on seeing him, "you's down
in de blues again!"

"Well, I confess I have not been very bright in your absence, Peter.
Not a soul to speak a word to; nothing but my own thoughts to entertain
me; and poor entertainment they have been. D'you know, Peter, I think I
should die if it were not for you."

"Nebber a bit ob it, massa. You's too cheeky to die soon. I's noticed,
in my 'sperience, dat de young slabes as has got most sel