He laid down his paper, and went into the kitchen, and started, quite
amazed at the sight that presented itself:--A young and slender woman,
with garments torn and frozen, with one shoe gone, and the stocking torn
away from the cut and bleeding foot, was laid back in a deadly swoon
upon two chairs. There was the impress of the despised race on her face,
yet none could help feeling its mournful and pathetic beauty, while its
stony sharpness, its cold, fixed, deathly aspect, struck a solemn chill
over him. He drew his breath short, and stood in silence. His wife,
and their only colored domestic, old Aunt Dinah, were busily engaged in
restorative measures; while old Cudjoe had got the boy on his knee, and
was busy pulling off his shoes and stockings, and chafing his little
cold feet.

"Sure, now, if she an't a sight to behold!" said old Dinah,
compassionately; "'pears like 't was the heat that made her faint.
She was tol'able peart when she cum in, and asked if she couldn't warm
herself here a spell; and I was just a-askin' her where she cum from,
and she fainted right down. Never done much hard work, guess, by the
looks of her hands."

"Poor creature!" said Mrs. Bird, compassionately, as the woman slowly
unclosed her large, dark eyes, and looked vacantly at her. Suddenly an
expression of agony crossed her face, and she sprang up, saying, "O, my
Harry! Have they got him?"

The boy, at this, jumped from Cudjoe's knee, and running to her side put
up his arms. "O, he's here! he's here!" she exclaimed.

"O, ma'am!" said she, wildly, to Mrs. Bird, "do protect us! don't let