He dreamed in his hopeful visions of a fresh new civilization springin’ up anew in the soil that had nurtured the first civilization. For in the East, where the star had first shone and travelled on to the West, then back agin to the mystical wonder-laden East—thither did Victor’s rapt eyes follow it. And Genieve, too, how she dreamed and longed for that new kingdom! All through their dreary servitude, tortured and wretched, it seemed as if God gave to the believers amongst this people songs in the night, as if His spirit breathed through the simple hymns they sung to lighten the hours of bondage. Some spirit, some inspiration seemed to breathe through their songs that brought tears to eyes unused to weepin’. The most cultured, the most refined found, in spite of themselves, that they had wet cheeks and beatin’ hearts after listenin’ to these simple strains. It could not have been for their musical worth—for they had little; it could not have been for their literary value—for they had none. What could it have been in them that charmed alike prince and peasant but the spirit of the Most High, who come down to speak hope and cheer to His too burdened and hopeless ones and lighten their captivity? Genieve thought that when this people, whom God chose to honor in this way, and whom He had led in such strange ways out of the jungles of ignorance in Africa, through the hard school of American slavery, out into liberty—she dreamed it was for the express purpose of educating her race so they might go back and redeem this dark land; and then she fancied that the Presence that had stayed with them through the dark night of sorrow would in the full day of their civilization shine out with a marvellous light, and they would be peculiarly under His care. She dreamed that this childlike, warm-hearted race would indeed “see God” as the colder and more philosophical races could not. So, as I begun to say—but what a hand to episode I am, and what a digressor I be—and I believe my soul it grows on me— Wall, as I begun to say more’n half an hour ago, if it wuz a minute, Col. Seybert thought he had another cause of enmity aginst Victor, for he had strong proofs that it wuz he who had helped release Hester from his clutches. And although it wuz kept secret as possible, yet rumors had reached Col. Seybert of Victor’s dreams of the colonization of his race. And to this Col. Seybert wuz opposed with all the selfishness and haughty arrogance of his nature. Why, who would work his big plantations if it wuz not for the blacks? And if this movement should succeed he knew it would draw off the best, and most intelligent, and industrious element, and the ones left in the South would charge double wages, so he reasoned. [Illustration: “HIS OVERSEER.”] And as to Victor, he vowed to himself with a big round oath that he should _not_ go. He _should not_ leave him.