“Buy and sell you!” interrupts the frightened man, making an effort to rise from his pillow; “that I never will, man nor woman.  If God spares my life, my people shall be liberated; I feel different on that subject, now!  The difference between the commerce of this world and the glory of heaven brightens before me.  I was an ignorant man on all religious matters; I only wanted to be set right in the way of the Lord,—­that’s all.”  Again he draws his face under the sheet, writhing with the pain of his wound.

“I wish everybody could see us as master does, about this time; for surely God can touch the heart of the most hardened.  But master ain’t going to die so soon as he thinks,” mutters Harry, wiping the sweat from his face, as he lays his left hand softly upon master’s arm.  “God guide us in all coming time, and make us forget the retribution that awaits our sins!” he concludes, with a smile glowing on his countenance.

The half spoken words catch upon the patient’s ear.  He starts suddenly from his pillow, as if eager to receive some favourable intelligence.  “Don’t you think my case dangerous, my boy?  Do you know how deep is the wound?” he enquires, his glassy eyes staring intently at Harry.

“It is all the same, master!” is the reply.

“Give me your hand again"-M’Fadden grasps his hand and seems to revive-"pray for me now; your prayers will be received into heaven, they will serve me there!”

“Ah, master,” says Harry, kindly, interrupting him at this juncture, “I feel more than ever like a christian.  It does my heart good to hear you talk so true, so kind.  How different from yesterday! then I was a poor slave, forced from my children, with nobody to speak a kind word for me; everybody to reckon me as a good piece of property only.  I forgive you, master-I forgive you; God is a loving God, and will forgive you also.”  The sick man is consoled; and, while his preacher kneels at his bed-side, offering up a prayer imploring forgiveness, he listens to the words as they fall like cooling drops on his burning soul.  The earnestness—­the fervency and pathos of the words, as they gush forth from the lips of a wretch, produce a still deeper effect upon the wounded man.  Nay, there is even a chord loosened in his heart; he sobs audibly.  “Live on earth so as to be prepared for heaven; that when death knocks at the door you may receive him as a welcome guest.  But, master! you cannot meet our Father in heaven while the sin of selling men clings to your garments.  Let your hair grow grey with justice, and God will reward you,” he concludes.

“True, Harry; true!”—­he lays his hand on the black man’s shoulder, is about to rise—­“it is the truth plainly told, and nothing more.”  He will have a glass of water to quench his thirst; Harry must bring it to him, for there is consolation in his touch.  Seized with another pain, he grasps with his left hand the arm of his consoler, works his fingers through