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"
He
lives
seven
miles
from
here
,
"
was
the
reply
.
"
Which
is
the
way
to
his
place
?
"
I
again
demanded
,
trying
to
look
more
fiercely
than
ever
.
"
Do
you
see
those
pine
trees
yonder
?
"
he
asked
,
pointing
to
two
,
a
mile
distant
,
that
rose
far
above
their
fellows
,
like
a
couple
of
tall
sentinels
,
overlooking
the
broad
expanse
of
forest
.
"
I
see
them
,
"
was
the
answer
.
"
At
the
feet
of
those
pine
trees
,
"
he
continued
,
"
runs
the
Texas
road
.
Turn
to
the
left
,
and
it
will
lead
you
to
William
Ford
's
.
"
Without
farther
parley
,
I
hastened
forward
,
happy
as
he
was
,
no
doubt
,
to
place
the
widest
possible
distance
between
us
.
Striking
the
Texas
road
,
I
turned
to
the
left
hand
,
as
directed
,
and
soon
passed
a
great
fire
,
where
a
pile
of
logs
were
burning
.
I
went
to
it
,
thinking
I
would
dry
my
clothes
;
but
the
gray
light
of
the
morning
was
fast
breaking
away
,
--
some
passing
white
man
might
observe
me
;
besides
,
the
heat
overpowered
me
with
the
desire
of
sleep
:
so
,
lingering
no
longer
,
I
continued
my
travels
,
and
finally
,
about
eight
o'clock
,
reached
the
house
of
Master
Ford
.
The
slaves
were
all
absent
from
the
quarters
,
at
their
work
.
Stepping
on
to
the
piazza
,
I
knocked
at
the
door
,
which
was
soon
opened
by
Mistress
Ford
.
My
appearance
was
so
changed
--
I
was
in
such
a
wobegone
and
forlorn
condition
,
she
did
not
know
me
.
Inquiring
if
Master
Ford
was
at
home
,
that
good
man
made
his
appearance
,
before
the
question
could
be
answered
.
I
told
him
of
my
flight
,
and
all
the
particulars
connected
with
it
.
He
listened
attentively
,
and
when
I
had
concluded
,
spoke
to
me
kindly
and
sympathetically
,
and
taking
me
to
the
kitchen
,
called
John
,
and
ordered
him
to
prepare
me
food
.
I
had
tasted
nothing
since
daylight
the
previous
morning
.
When
John
had
set
the
meal
before
me
,
the
madam
came
out
with
a
bowl
of
milk
,
and
many
little
delicious
dainties
,
such
as
rarely
please
the
palate
of
a
slave
.
I
was
hungry
,
and
I
was
weary
,
but
neither
food
nor
rest
afforded
half
the
pleasure
as
did
the
blessed
voices
speaking
kindness
and
consolation
.
It
was
the
oil
and
the
wine
which
the
Good
Samaritan
in
the
"
Great
Pine
Woods
"
was
ready
to
pour
into
the
wounded
spirit
of
the
slave
,
who
came
to
him
,
stripped
of
his
raiment
and
half-dead
.
They
left
me
in
the
cabin
,
that
I
might
rest
.
Blessed
be
sleep
!
It
visiteth
all
alike
,
descending
as
the
dews
of
heaven
on
the
bond
and
free
.
Soon
it
nestled
to
my
bosom
,
driving
away
the
troubles
that
oppressed
it
,
and
bearing
me
to
that
shadowy
region
,
where
I
saw
again
the
faces
,
and
listened
to
the
voices
of
my
children
,
who
,
alas
,
for
aught
I
knew
in
my
waking
hours
,
had
fallen
into
the
arms
of
that
other
sleep
,
from
which
they
never
would
arouse
.
