for some meditation--see what's to come ob all dis."

Truly the changes that take place in the feelings and mind of man are
not less sudden and complete than the physical changes which sometimes
occur in lands that are swept by the tornado and desolated by the
earthquake. That morning George Foster had risen from his straw bed a
miserable white slave, hopeless, heartless, and down at spiritual zero--
or below it. That night he lay down on the same straw bed, a free man--
in soul, if not in body--a hero of the most ardent character--up at
fever-heat in the spiritual thermometer, or above it, and all because
his heart throbbed with a noble purpose--because an object worthy of his
efforts was placed before him, and because he had made up his mind to do
or die in a good cause!

What that cause was he would have found it difficult to define clearly
in detail. Sufficient for him that an unknown but stalwart father, with
Radical tendencies, and a well-known and lovely daughter, were at the
foundation of it, and that "Escape!" was the talismanic word which
formed a battery, as it were, with which to supply his heart with
electric energy.

He lived on this diet for a week, with the hope of again seeing Hester;
but he did not see her again for many weeks.

One morning Peter the Great came to him as he was going out to work in
the garden and said--

"You git ready and come wid me into town dis day."

"Indeed," returned Foster, as much excited by the order as if it had
been to go on some grand expedition. "For what purpose?"

"You 'bey orders, sar, an' make your mind easy about purpisses."

In a few minutes Foster was ready.

No part of his original costume now remained to him. A blue-striped
cotton jacket, with pants too short and too wide for him; a
broad-brimmed straw hat, deeply sunburnt face and hands, with a pair of
old boots two sizes too large, made him as unlike a British naval
officer as he could well be. But he had never been particularly vain of
his personal appearance, and the high purpose by which he was now
actuated set him above all such trifling considerations.

"Is your business a secret?" asked Foster, as he and his companion
descended the picturesque road that led to the city.

"No, it am no secret, 'cause I's got no business."

"You seem to be in a mysterious mood this morning, Peter. What do you
mean?"

"I mean dat you an' me's out for a holiday--two slabes out for a
holiday! T'ink ob d