'Eliza recognised the voice and face of a man who owned a farm not far from her old home. "Oh, Mr Symmes!--save me--do save me--do hide me!" said Eliza. "Why, what's this?" said the man. "Why, if 'tan't Shelby's gal!" "My child!--this boy--he'd sold him! There is his mas'r," said she, pointing to the Kentucky shore. "Oh, Mr Symmes, you've got a little boy." "So I have," said the man, as he roughly, but kindly, drew her up the steep bank. "Besides, you're a right brave gal. I like grit wherever I see it." 'When they had gained the top of the bank, the man paused. "I'd be glad to do something for ye," said he; "but then there's nowhar I could take ye. The best I can do is to tell ye to go _thar_," said he, pointing to a large white house which stood by itself, off the main street of the village. "Go thar; they're kind folks. Thar's no kind o' danger but they'll help you: they're up to all that sort o' thing." "The Lord bless you!" said Eliza earnestly. "No 'casion, no 'casion in the world," said the man. "What I've done's of no 'count." "And oh, surely, sir, you won't tell any one!" "Go to thunder, gal! What do you take a feller for? In course not," said the man. "Come, now, go along like a likely, sensible gal, as you are. You've arnt your liberty, and you shall have it, for all me." 'The woman folded her child to her bosom, and walked firmly and swiftly away. The man stood and looked after her. "Shelby, now, mebbe won't think this yer the most neighbourly thing in the world; but what's a feller to do? If he catches one of my gals in the same fix, he's welcome to pay back. Somehow I never could see no kind o' critter a-strivin' and pantin', and trying to clar theirselves, with the dogs arter 'em, and go agin 'em. Besides, I don't see no kind of 'casion for me to be hunter and catcher for other folks neither." 'So spoke this poor heathenish Kentuckian, who had not been instructed in his constitutional relations, and consequently was betrayed into acting in a sort of Christianised manner, which, if he had been better situated and more enlightened, he would not have been left to do. 'Haley had stood a perfectly amazed spectator of the scene, till Eliza had disappeared up the bank, when he turned a blank, inquiring look on Sam and Andy. "That ar was a tolable fair stroke of business," said Sam. "The gal's got seven devils in her, I believe," said Haley. "How like a wild-cat she jumped!" "Wal, now," said Sam, scratching his head, "I hope mas'r'll 'scuse us tryin' dat ar road. Don't think I feel spry enough for dat ar, noway!" and Sam gave a hoarse chuckle. "_You_ laugh!" said the trader with a growl. "I'll make ye laugh t'other side yer mouths!" and he began laying about their heads with his riding-whip. 'Both ducked, and ran shouting up the bank, and were on their horses before he was up.