“We will,” they answered, as the train rode away and baby Allie pressed her shining face against the window.  It was only two weeks and two days from that day that Louis, Clara and I (she said after our marriage “Call me Clara, for we are sisters—­never say ‘mother Desmonde;’ to say mother when you have such a blessed one of your own is robbery to her”) drove to the depot to meet John.  Matthias said to us,

“You go fur him, ef you please, fur I can never meet him in de crowd; I want to wait by de road an’ see him cum along.  Mighty feared I’ll make a noony o’ myself.”

The train stopped, and Louis left us in the carriage and went to find him.  My heart jumped as I thought he might not be there, but ere I had time to say it to Clara, he came in sight, walking proudly erect by the side of Louis, as handsome a colored man as could be seen.  He was quite light, tall as Louis, and well proportioned, his mouth pleasantly shaped and not large, his nose suited to a Greek rather than to a negro, and over his forehead, which was broad and full, black hair fell in tight-curling rings,—­resembling Matthias in nothing save perhaps his eyes.  It did not seem possible this could be a man coming from the power of a master—­how I dislike that term, a slave—­this noble looking fellow; I shuddered involuntarily, and grasped his hand in welcome with a fervent “God bless you, John; I welcome you heartily.”  Clara stretched forth her little hand also, saying: 

“John, you can never know how glad we are.”  He stood with his hat raised, and his large beautiful eyes turned toward us filled with feeling as he answered: 

“Ladies, you can never realize the debt I have to pay you.  It seems a dream that I am here, a free man with an old father waiting to see his son; oh, sir,” and he turned to Louis, “my heart is full!”

“We do not doubt it, dear fellow, but get into the carriage and let Gipsy take us to the hills.  She knows your father waits.  Now go, Gipsy,” and the willing creature seemed inspired, going at a quick pace as if she understood her mission.

I saw Matthias sitting on a log a little this side of our home, shading his eyes with his hand, and when John spied him, he laid his hand on his heart and said: 

“Please let me get out and walk; excuse me, sir, but I cannot sit here.”

We respected his feelings and held Gipsy back, that he might with his long strides reach his father before us, which he did.  When Matthias saw him walking toward him, he rose to his feet and the two men approached each other with uncovered heads.  At last, when about ten feet apart, Matthias stopped and cried: 

“John, oh, John!”

“Father, father, I am here,” and with one bound he reached him, threw his arms about him, while Matthias’ head fell on his shoulder; and here, as we reached them, they stood speechless with the great joy that had come to them.  Two souls delivered from bondage—­two white souls bathed in pure sunlight of my native skies.  I can never forget this scene.  We spoke no word to them, but as we passed them John spoke, saying: