Here I have to break into the master's diary in order to give what happened afterwards, which he did not write down. The girl, who said her name was Tilly, got quite reconciled to us next day. She was from Kentucky, had been sold to a saloonkeeper at Black Rock, and rescued. She shuddered whenever she spoke of him. Passed from one friendly hand to another she reached Toronto, and was living quietly there as a servant. One evening there was a rap at the door and she went to answer. On opening it she beheld the fellow who claimed to own her. She screamed. Putting his hand over her mouth he lifted her to a sleigh, which drove off. Two passersby, who saw what happened, ran after the sleigh and on its halting at a tavern, one hurried off for a constable while the other kept watch. Entering the tavern they demanded the girl, and under threat of arrest the fellow had to let her go. If he had not, the crowd in the barroom would have piled on to him, for in Toronto Yankee slavehunters are detested. Mr Bambray, on being told of what had occurred, made her case his own. He consulted Jabez who suggested burying her in the bush with the master's family until the search was given up. Tilly was modest and eager to help, and at worship showed she had a beautiful voice. The day passed quietly and so did Sunday. The master had meant to go to Toronto to church, being the first Sunday after New Year's day, but the frost was too intense for an ox-drive. Tilly had a great collection of hymns, and in the afternoon we sat and listened. It was a peaceful Sabbath and we went to bed happy and feeling secure. I was lying awake, thinking of the poor slave-girl so unexpectedly thrown among us, when I thought I heard the crunching of the frozen snow under horse's feet and sleighrunners. I jumped out of bed and looking through the window that faced our road, saw a sleigh with two men. I hurried down stairs and wakened the master. He had just got on his feet when the door was forced in with a crash. A tall fellow entered, whom we could see distinctly, for the fire was glowing bright. 'I have come for my nigger, and it will be worse for you if you make a fuss.' Without a word, the master rushed at the fellow and was thrusting him out of the door, when he used a trick, doubtless learned in a hundred barroom fights, of thrusting his foot forward and tripping the master, who fell on his back. In a flash the fellow had him by the throat, forcing back his head with his left hand while his right fumbled under his coat. I guessed he was after his bowie-knife. I gripped his arm and gave it a twist that made him let out a yell. Jumping straight up, he made to grab me, when Allan, who had just appeared, swung out his right arm and dealt him a terrific blow on the face. He fell like a tree that had got its last cut. The other man now looked in, and seeing his comrade insensible and bleeding, cried out to us, 'You will hang for