“In fact, madam, I believe I never told any one about it,” continued Roux, falteringly, “with the especial exception of Mr. Harrington and Miss Eastman. But I did git away from the southern country, way down in Louzeana, nine years ago. And I’ve got a brother still there, madam, leastways if he’s alive, wich is not certain, seein’ that he was with an uncommon bad master, madam—in fact, one of the worst sort of masters, madam.” “Why didn’t he run away with you, Mr. Roux?” inquired Emily. “He was ruther scared at the resks, madam,” replied Roux, “Says I, Ant’ny—his name was Ant’ny, madam—Ant’ny, says I, Master Lafitte—Lafitte was old Master’s name, madam—Master Lafitte’ll be the death of us, Ant’ny. We’d better try to git away to that Boston we’ve heerd tell of. Ant’ny, says I, I’ve got three pounds of kian, Ant’ny, says I”— “Of what?” asked Emily. “Of kian, madam—kian pepper, you know.” “O, yes. Cayenne pepper.” “Yes, madam. Wich we can leave on the track, Ant’ny, says I, and that’ll throw off the hounds, I’m a thinkin’.” “The hounds!” ejaculated Emily, knitting her brow with horror, and looking at the still face of Muriel and then at Harrington. “Certainly,” said the latter, tranquilly. “In this free and happy country, they hunt men and women with hounds. When hounds fail, they try Fugitive Slave Law Commissioners.” “And were you hunted, Mr. Roux?” asked Emily, shuddering. “Yes, madam,” replied the negro, naively. “Ant’ny was afeared to try it, and then I thought I wouldn’t nuther, for he was my brother, and we’d been brought up together on old Madam Roux’s estate in New Orleans, and I was very fond of Ant’ny, madam. But next day, you see, madam, I was feelin’ ruther sick, and fell short in the pickin’—cotton-pickin’, you know. So when night come, Master Lafitte he flogged me awful, and then hung me up in the gin-house—hung me up by the wrists, an’ left me to hang overnight.” Roux, hearing Captain Fisher muttering, paused. The Captain, with his head very much on one side, was swearing awfully in a low undertone at slavery and slaveholders in general. He usually contented himself with such mild oaths as “by the great horn spoon”—as people who leave off chewing tobacco supply its place with spruce gum. But as the spruce-gum chewers sometimes backslide into tobacco again, so the Captain, when he got excited, which was seldom, would backslide from his mild profanity into such swearing as sailors, who swear with genius, know how to express the passion of their souls withal.