“Hear your niggers are holding some kind of a revival, old man,” he called. “Got a good preacher?” “I wouldn’t know.” Freeland laughed back, waving his whip. Next morning, however, he spoke to Henry. “Oh, Henry, what’s this I hear about a revival going on?” “Whatchu sayin’, Massa William?” Henry’s lips hung flabby. Not a trace of intelligence lighted his face. “A revival! You know what a revival is.” Freeland tried to curb his impatience. “Oh, yessuh!” Henry showed his teeth in a wide grin. “Yessuh, Ah knows a revival. Yes, _suh_!” “Well, is there a revival going on around here?” “Revival? Roun’ hyear?” The whites of Henry’s eyes resembled marbles. Freeland kicked back his chair. What the hell difference did it make? At the end of the year William Freeland rode over to St. Michaels and renewed his contract with Captain Auld for his boy’s services. He reported that the slave had worked well; he had no complaints to make. Captain Auld’s eyes glittered when he took the money. Evidently that buck was turning out all right. Another year and he’d bring a good price in the market. The master was really touched by Frederick’s gratitude when told that he was to remain on. As a matter of fact, Frederick had been deeply worried. As the year had drawn to a close he felt he had wasted valuable time. There was much to do--plans to make and lines to be carefully laid--before he made his break for freedom. Another Christmas and a new year. And New Year’s Day was a time to start things right. Everybody knew that! They heard it first in the yard, of course. Black Crunch had run away! When the horsemen came galloping up the drive not a pickaninny was in sight. Old Caleb opened the front door and bowed with his beautiful deference. But they shoved him out of the way unceremoniously, calling for the master. Old Missus sniffed the air disdainfully, standing very straight, but Master William rode off with them. The next night all along the Eastern Shore slaves huddled, shivering in dark corners. The baying of the hounds kept some white folks awake, too. They didn’t find Black Crunch. They never found Black Crunch. There was a hazy tension in the air. The five friends bound themselves together with a solemn oath of secrecy--Frederick, Handy, Henry, John, and Sandy. They were going together--all five. John pleaded for his sweetheart, little Susan, to be taken along; and Sandy knew the danger that threatened his wife if he left her. Though a free woman herself, she could be snatched back into bondage if he ran away. Noma knew this also. Yet the woman said simply, “Go!”