"You sho' is, Cap'in Ormond, suh," he said, the first faint approach to a grin that I had seen wrinkling his aged face. And with that he hung my small-sword, whisked the powder from my shoulders with a bit of cambric, chose a laced handkerchief for me, and, ere I could remonstrate, passed a tiny jewelled pin into my powdered hair, where it sparkled like a frost crystal. "I'm no macaroni!" I said, angrily; "take it away!" "Cap'in Ormond, suh, you sho' is de fines' young gemm'n in de province, suh," he pleaded. "Dess regahd yo'se'f, suh, in dishyere lookum-glass. What I done tell you? Look foh yo'se'f, suh! Cap'in Butler gwine see how de quality gemm'n fixes up! Suh John Johnsing he gwine see! Dat ole Kunnel Butler he gwine see, too! Heah yo' is, suh, dess a-bloomin' lak de pink-an'-silver ghos' flower wif de gole heart." "Cato," I asked, curiously, "why do you take pride in tricking out a stranger to dazzle your own people?" The old man stood silent a moment, then looked up with the mild eyes of an aged hound long privileged in honorable retirement. "Is you sho' a Ormond, suh?" "Yes, Cato." "Might you come f'om de Spanish grants, suh, long de Halifax?" "Yes, yes; but we are English now. How did you know I came from the Halifax?" "I knowed it, suh; I knowed h'it muss be dat-away!" "How do you know it, Cato?" "I spec' you favor yo' pap, suh, de ole Kunnel--" "My father!" "Mah ole marster, suh; I was raised 'long Matanzas, suh. Spanish man done cotch me on de Tomoka an' ship me to Quebec. Ole Suh William Johnsing, he done buy me; Suh John, he done sell me; Mars Varick, he buy me; an' hyah ah is, suh--heart dess daid foh de Halifax san's." He bent his withered head and laid his face on my hands, but no tear fell. After a moment he straightened, snuffled, and smiled, opening his lips with a dry click. "H'it's dat-a-way, suh. Ole Cato dess 'bleged to fix up de young marster. Pride o' fambly, suh. What might you be desirin' now, Mars' Ormond? One li'l drap o' musk on yoh hanker? Lawd save us, but you sho' is gallus dishyere day! Spec' Miss Dorry gwine blink de vi'lets in her eyes. Yaas, suh. Miss Dorry am de only one, suh; de onliest Ormond in dishyere fambly. Seem mos' lak she done throw back to our folk, suh. Miss Dorry ain' no Varick; Miss Dorry all Ormond, suh, dess lak you an' me! Yaas, suh, h'its dat-a-way; h'it sho' is, Mars' Ormond." I drew a deep, quivering breath. Home seemed so far, and the old slave would never live to see it. I felt as though this steel-cold North held me, too, like a trap--never to unclose. "Cato," I said, abruptly, "let us go home." He understood; a gleam of purest joy flickered in his eyes, then died out, quenched in swelling tears. He wept awhile, standing there in the centre of the room, smearing the tears away with the flapping sleeves of his tarnished livery, while, like a committed panther, I paced the walls, to and fro, to and fro, heart aching for escape.