“There are no slaves in Canada,” Rhoda said gently. “You’ll be free too and perfectly safe when you get there. What made you and your husband dissatisfied in the first place?” she continued. “Did you have a hard master?” “No, miss, he’s a right kind man to his slaves, better than his sister. She’ll be married some day, and we all thought the slaves might be divided then and maybe some of us sold down south.” She was silent for a moment, a suspended accent in her voice, and Rhoda waited. “Master was always right good to Andrew. There was a reason--” She checked herself, as if some innate delicacy prevented her from saying more, and went on: “But Miss Emily would have sold him if she could. She didn’t like him.” “Miss Emily!” Rhoda exclaimed, a catch in her breath. “Yes, miss, master’s sister, who has a share in the slaves and everything. But Andrew’s free now! He can’t be sold now!” Her voice was full of happy satisfaction. “But you’ll soon be in Canada, and then you’ll be free too, just as free as he is,” Rhoda told her assuringly, thinking that the slave woman had not yet realized the freedom to which she was fleeing. The girl spoke calmly and compassionately, but at her heart there was a quick throbbing. “I mean he’s surely free, miss! He’s got his free papers! Master followed him and most caught him, the man told me, and a young lady hid him in a cave. Master Jeff came and she persuaded him to give Andrew his free papers. Oh, miss! I wish I could see that young lady!” At last the refugee’s feeling had broken through her manner of subdued and patient resignation. Her voice was trembling with eagerness and in the moonlight Rhoda could see the tears rolling down her cheeks. “I’d do anything for her, anything!” A lump swelled in Rhoda’s throat. She leaned forward to tap her horse to a faster pace along a level stretch of road, then lifted her eyes to the sky and whispered, “O God, I thank thee!” “What is your name?” she queried as she leaned back again. “My name is Lina, miss,--Carolina, but I’m always called just Lina. My husband’s name is Andrew Delavan. We took master’s name.” “Andrew is doing well in Canada, I think you said?” “Yes, miss. He’s got some land and he’s building a log house for us. It will be our own!” “Well, Lina, I want you--can you write?--after you get there I want you to write a letter to me--I’ll write down my name and address for you--and tell me about your home and whether or not you and Andrew like being free. I think perhaps I know that young lady you spoke of and I’ll show her your letter. It will give her more pleasure than anything else you could do.” CHAPTER IX It was still early the next day when Horace Hardaker appeared at Dr. Ware’s east gate and looked anxiously around for signs of life. After a little he saw Jim at work in the stable and hurried thither. “Good morning, Jim! Is the doctor at home?”