"
He took it without a word, except, "I reckon, Master John, you know I'm
thankful. Was there any one missing me?"
"No, no one."
"I'll get away to-night. I'll go down through Lonesome Man's Swamp and
take my old bateau and run down the river. You might look after my
muskrat traps. I was meaning to make a purse for the little missy. Now do
you just go away, and may the Lord bless you. I guess we won't ever meet
no more. You'll be mighty careful, Master John?"
"But you'll write, Josiah."
"I wouldn't dare to write--I'd be takin' risks. Think I'm safe here? Oh,
Lord!"
"No one knows where you are--you'll go to-night?"
"Yes, after dark." He seemed more at ease as he said, "It was Peter Lamb
set Mr. Grey on me. He must have seen me after that. I told you it was
Peter."
"Yes,"--and then with the hopefulness of youth--"but you will come back,
I am sure."
"No, sir--never no more--and the captain and Miss Leila--it's
awful--where can I go?"
John could not help him further. "God bless you, Master John." They
parted at length at the door of the cabin which had seen no other parting
as sad.
The black lay down again. Now and then he swept his sleeve across tearful
eyes. Then he stowed his money under his shirt in a linen bag hung to his
neck, keeping out a few dollars, and at last fell sound asleep exhausted
by emotion,
Josiah's customers were few in number.
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