“The storm,” said Judah with wild exultation in his voice, “the storm is but gathering force. These bloody happenings which are convulsing Missouri and Kansas are but the preliminary happenings to a glorious struggle which will end in the breaking of every chain that binds human beings to servitude in this country.” Warren regarded him in astonishment. “Why do you think so, Judah?” “I cannot tell. But I feel that the sin will be punished in a great outpouring of blood and treasure until God says it is enough. The day of deliverance for the Negro is at hand.” “Amen! The boy is a true prophet. ‘Behold, the Lord’s hand is not shortened, that it cannot save; neither his ear heavy, that it cannot hear.’ Bring your chairs up to the table and have some hot coffee and a bit to eat.” The meal over, from which all rose refreshed and strengthened, Steward placed a ladder against the wall and mounting it, threw back a trap door in the ceiling closely concealed by festoons of strings of dried apples and bunches of onions and herbs. He then returned to the room and lit an extra candle, beckoning Winona to follow him up the steep ascent. Speaking a few words of caution to her, he descended the ladder, which he removed and put out of sight. Warren watched his movements with great curiosity. How fast he was gaining a true knowledge of life and living here in these American wilds among a rough but kindly people. These friends of the fugitive slaves lived by but one principle, “Greater love than this hath no man.” His refined sensibilities were satisfied by the melodramatic coloring of his surroundings. The atmosphere of art had affected him enough for him to perceive the beauties of the picture made by the stalwart men, the gigantic black’s refined prowess and the noble lines and graceful pose of Winona’s neck and shoulders. Preacher Steward moved out a number of wooden sea chests from beneath the tall, four-posted bed where his wife and children lay wrapped in slumber. He spread at the extreme back of the open space a pair of blankets and then signed Judah to creep under the bed; when he had done so, the parson pushed back the trunks as nearly as possible to their old positions, thus completely concealing the fugitive from view. “We can’t start before five o’clock, and we may as well get all the rest we can,” said Maybee. It was after midnight when Warren, Maybee and their host lay down upon the floor which was spread with a buffalo robe and blankets. “It’s the best the railroad can offer under the circumstances. The railroad isn’t wealthy and we have to put up with some discomforts.” “This beats sleeping on the ground without blankets, as we sometimes bivouac out to Captaing Brown’s camp, all holler,” replied Maybee, sleepily. “Declar’, I’m dead beat.” “As I understand it, this isn’t a railroad; it is only hiding fugitives as they pass to Canada.”