“True,” replied Uncle Nathan, appreciating his companion’s reasoning, and admiring his warm devotion to his mistress.

“I wish to place the will in the keeping of some trusty person, who will guard it as his own life,—­who will deem no sacrifice too great to relieve the distressed, and foil the wicked,” said Hatchie, earnestly.

“I will do the best I can.”

“Before I intrust it to you, I must feel that you will not only be discreet, but that you will labor to foil this wicked plot.”

“I will do everything I can,” replied Uncle Nathan, warmly, for his heart was touched at the wrongs of Emily.

“Then here is the will,” said Hatchie, handing him the packet, which he had taken the precaution to envelop in oil-cloth.  “Remember how much depends upon your caution and fidelity.  God forgive me, if I have done wrong in giving it to you.”

“You may depend upon me.  I will take good care of the document.  But shan’t I say anything to the lady about it?”

“Assure her, if you can without exposing yourself, that the will is safe.  It will give joy to her heart to know that she has the means of restoration to her home and name.”

“I will see everything done about right; and I hope soon to meet you in the land of liberty.”

“I shall never leave my mistress.  I have been near her from her birth, and, though only a slave, I feel that I was sent into the world for no other purpose than to protect and serve her.  Liberty away from her has no charms for me.”

“Goodness!” ejaculated Uncle Nathan; “I never should have thought it!”

Hatchie’s devotion to his mistress, so eloquently expressed, jostled rather rudely the Northerner’s prejudices concerning the treatment of slaves.

The conversation was here interrupted by three taps on the deck above them, produced by the brogan of Pat Fegan.

Hatchie recognized the preconcerted signal, and, abruptly terminating his remarks, he leaped into the box, drew on the lid, and left Uncle Nathan to find his way out as best he could.

“Whisht, now,” said Pat, whispering down the hatch.  “Jump up, Mr. Binson!”

Uncle Nathan approached the hatchway, and endeavored to leap out, an effort which was assisted by Pat, who, rudely seizing him by the collar, jerked him out with a violence that threatened his bones with dissolution.

“How the divil did yous tumble in there?” screamed Pat, as two persons approached.  “Are yous hurted?”

“A little,” replied Uncle Nathan, perceiving the ruse of his coadjutor.

“I fear yous are.  Thry are your legs broke?” continued Pat, whose energy of utterance gave a fair appearance to the deceit.

“Are you much hurt?” asked one of the persons who had by their presence disturbed the conference.

“Very little,” replied Uncle Nathan, who really felt the uncomfortable effects of a knock on the knee he had received in his involuntary ascent from the hold.