“I will, Mr. Harrington,” stammered Roux, terribly agitated, “I will be cool. I won’t let it overcome me.” “That’s right—don’t,” replied Harrington, with an affectation of phlegm. “By the way, how is your wife? How does she bear the letter I sent her?” “Oh, she’s pretty well, Mr. Harrington, and she says she thinks I’ll be safe here,” said Roux, trembling all over. Harrington led him on to talk of other subjects, diverting his mind as much as possible from the matter in hand, and in a few minutes got him tranquil again. “Now, Mr. Roux,” he said, “Antony is free as I told you, and I want you to prepare yourself to see him soon.” “Yes, Mr. Harrington, I will,” said Roux with a wondering face. “Did Miss Ames buy him, Mr. Harrington?” “Oh no,” returned Harrington, “how could she when it was only a day or two since she knew of him? Antony ran away. I have him at my house.” Roux sprang to his feet, wild with joy. “Let me go to see him, Mr. Harrington,” he cried. “No,” said Harrington, rising and gently pressing Roux into his chair again. “You are not safe out of this room. I will bring him here to stay with you. Keep cool, Roux, and be patient. You must expect to see Antony very thin, for he has been sick. But he will soon recover. Now I must go, and to-night when it is dark, I will bring him here. Good bye. Keep up a good heart. He will soon be with you.” “Oh, I knew it from the very fust,” complacently remarked Tugmutton, taking his leg on his knee, and lolling back a little with the most indifferent air in the world, “I ain’t astonished. My gosh! no, you can’t astonish me. I’m above it.” “That’s because you have a great mind, Charles,” said Harrington, jestingly. “Now just use your talents in cheering up your father—that’s a good boy.” “I’ll do it, Mr. Harrington,” replied the cheerful youth, jumping up to let Harrington out, with his pear-face shining gleefully. “I’ll cheer him up so that nobody’ll ever know him again. Good bye, Mr. Harrington. Call again.” Nodding pleasantly, Harrington departed, while Tugmutton waved his big paw with a lofty air, like a king dismissing his prime-minister after a cabinet council, and closed the door after him. In the passage below, Harrington met Mrs. Eastman, and mentioned that he intended to bring Antony there that evening after dark. “Of course,” he added, “there is no danger of the servants mentioning that there are colored men in the house. It would not do to have it gossiped about.” “No, indeed,” returned Mrs. Eastman, smiling. “They have all, except little Bridget, been with us for years, and are like part of the family. Not the least danger of them. You know, John, we have had fugitives here several times before. “Yes, I know that,” he replied, laughing.