“I’ve been expecting you. Come in, my friend.” She talked quietly, transmitting to him John Brown’s final words and admonitions. Then she rose. “He left something for you.” “Oh--John!” Until that moment he had listened without interrupting, his eyes on the woman’s expressive face. The words broke from him unbidden. At her gesture, he followed her up the bare stairs and into the bedroom that had been hers and John Brown’s. The roof sloped down; he had to stoop a little, standing beside her before the faded, furled flag and rusty musket in the corner. She nodded her head, but could not speak. “For me?” Douglass’ words came in a whisper. “He wanted you to have them.” She had turned to the chest of drawers and handed him an envelope. “He sent this in one of my letters. I was to give it to you when you came.” His hands were trembling as he drew forth the single white sheet on which were written two lines. “I know I have not failed because you live. Go forward, and some day unfurl my flag in the land of the free. Farewell.” And then was sprawled, “John Brown.” He left the farmhouse with the musket in his hands. They had wrapped the flag carefully, and he laid it across his shoulders. So many times she had stood in the narrow doorway and watched John Brown ride away. He had never looked back. But on this evening the rider paused when he came to the top of the hill. He paused and looked back down into the valley. His eyes found the spot where John Brown lay beside his sons. She could not see his lips move, nor could she hear his words--words the winds of the Adirondacks carried away: “I promise you, John Brown. As I live, I promise you.” Then he waved his hand to John Brown’s widow and was gone. * * * * * Douglass’ homecoming was weighted with sorrow. But in the mountains of North Elba he had drawn strength. He was able to comfort the grieving mother and the older children. For the first time in years he sat quietly with his three fine sons. He told Rosetta how pretty she was--like her mother in the days of the plum-colored wedding dress. The family closed its ranks, coming very close together. Douglass managed to remain in his house nearly a month before knowledge got around that he was back in the country. Then a letter from William Lloyd Garrison summoned him: