The Moor was too well accustomed to his wild son's ways to require any explanation of the cause of the fracas. Just giving one glance at his slaves, to make sure that neither was killed, he left the room as hastily as he had entered it. "My poor friend," exclaimed the middy, grasping the negro's hand with a gush of mingled enthusiasm and pity, "I trust you have not been much injured by that inhuman brute?" "Oh, bress you! no. It do smart a bit," returned Peter, as he put on his shirt uneasily, "an' I's used to it, Geo'ge, you know. But how's your poo' feet?" "Well, I'm not vary sure," replied Foster, making a wry face as he sat down to examine them. "How it did sting, Peter! I owe a heavy debt of gratitude to old Ben-Ahmed for cutting it short. No, the skin's not damaged, I see, but there are two or three most awful weals. D'you know, I never before this day felt sorry that I wasn't born a dog!" "Why's dat, Geo'ge?" Because then I should have been able to make my teeth meet in yon fellow's leg, and would have held on! Yes, I don't know what I would not have given just at that time to have been born a mastiff, or a huge Saint Bernard, or a thoroughbred British bull-dog, with double the usual allowance of canines and grinders! The negro threw back his head and began one of his silent laughs, but suddenly stopped, opened his eyes wide, pursed his lips, and moved his broad shoulders uneasily. "I mus' laugh _easy_ for some time to come," he remarked. "Poor fellow!" said Foster, "I fear you must. I say--how my soles do sting!" "Oh yes, _I_ knows," returned Peter, with a remarkably intelligent nod. "But come. We mus' go an' see what massa's a-goin' to do, for you bery sure he won't rest quiet till he's turned ebery stone to find Missy Hester." Peter the Great left the room with a brave effort to suppress a groan; while our middy followed with an equally valorous determination not to limp. In both efforts they were but partially successful. As Peter had prophesied, Ben-Ahmed did indeed leave no stone unturned to recover Hester Sommers, but there was one consideration which checked him a good deal, and prevented his undertaking the search as openly as he wished, and that was the fear that the Dey himself might get wind of what he was about, and so become inquisitive as to the cause of the stir which so noted a man was making about a runaway slave. For Ben-Ahmed feared--and so did Osman--that if the Dey saw Hester he might want to introduce her into his own household. The caution which they had therefore to observe in prosecuting the search was all in favour of the runaway. As time passed by, Hester, _alias_ Geo'giana, began to feel more at ease in her poor abode and among her new friends, who, although unrefined in manners, were full to overflowing with the milk of human kindness, so that at last the unfortunate English girl began to entertain positive affection for Mrs Lilly and her black handmaiden.