The word roused the failing, fainting spirit. He poured forth - his life, his a few energetic sentences of that wondrous One, death, his everlasting presence, and power to save. They wept, both the two savage men. - “Why did n't I never hear this before?" said Sambo; "but I do believe ! I can't help it! Lord Jesus, have mercy on us!" "Poor critturs!" said Tom, "I'd be willin to bar all I have, if it'll only bring ye to Christ! O Lord! give me these two more souls, I pray!" That prayer was answered. CHAPTER XLI. THE YOUNG MASTER. Two days after, a young man drove a light wagon up through the avenue of China-trees, and, throwing the reins hastily on the horses' neck, sprang out and inquired for the owner of the place. It was George Shelby; and, to show how he came to be there, we must go back in our story. The letter of Miss Ophelia to Mrs. Shelby had, by some unfortunate accident, been detained, for a month or two, at some remote post-office, before it reached its destination; and, of course, before it was received, Tom was already lost to view among the distant swamps of the Red River. Mrs. Shelby read the intelligence with the deepest concern ; but any immediate action upon it was an impossibility. She was then in attendance on the sick-bed of her husband, who lay delirious in the crisis of a fever. Master George Shelby, who, in the interval, had changed from a boy to a tall young man, was her constant and faithful assistant, and her only reliance in superintending his father's affairs. Miss Ophelia had taken the precaution to send them the name of the lawyer who did business for the St. Clares; and the most that, in the emergency, could be done, was to address a letter of inquiry to him. The sudden death of Mr. Shelby, a few days after, brought, of course, an absorbing pressure of other interests for a season. Mr. Shelby showed his confidence in his wife's ability, by appointing her sole executrix upon his estates; and thus immediately a large and complicated amount of business was brought upon her hands. Mrs. Shelby, with characteristic energy, applied herself to the work of straightening the entangled web of affairs; and she and George were for some time occupied with collecting and exam ining accounts, selling property, and settling debts; for Mrs. Shelby was determined that everything should be brought into tangible and recognizable shape, let the consequences to her prove what they might. In the mean time, they received a letter from the lawyer to whom Miss Ophelia had referred them, saying that he knew nothing of the matter: that the man was sold at a public auction, and that, beyond receiving the money, he knew nothing of the affair. Neither George nor Mrs. Shelby could be easy at this result; and accordingly some six months after, the latter, having business for his mother, down the river, resolved to visit New Orleans, in person, and push his inquiries, in hopes of discovering Tom's whereabouts, and restoring him. After some months of unsuccessful search, by the merest accident, George fell in with a man, in New Orleans, who happened to be possessed of the desired information; and with his money in his pocket, our hero took steamboat for Red River, resolving to find out and repurchase his old friend. He was soon introduced into the house, where he found Legree in the sitting-room. I Legree received the stranger with a kind of surly hospitality. "I understand," said the young man, "that you bought, in New Orleans, a boy, named Tom. He used to be on my father's place, and I came to see if could n't buy him back." Legree's brow grew dark, and he broke out, passionately: "Yes, I did buy such a fellow, and a h-1 of a bargain I had of it, too! The most rebellious, saucy, impudent dog! Set up my niggers to run away; got off two gals, worth eight hundred or a thousand dollars apiece. He owned to that, and, when I bid him tell me where they was, he up and said he knew, but he would n't tell; and stood to it, though I gave him the cussedest flogging I ever gave nigger yet. I b'lieve he's trying to but I don't know as he 'll make it out." "Where is he?" said George, impetuously. die; "Let me see him." The cheeks of the young man were crimson, and his eyes flashed fire; but he prudently said nothing, as yet. “He's in dat ar shed," said a little fellow, who stood holding George's horse. Legree kicked the boy, and swore at him; but George, without saying another word, turned and strode to the spot. Tom had been lying two days since the fatal night; not suf fering, for every nerve of suffering was blunted and destroyed. He lay, for the most part, in a quiet stupor; for the laws of a powerful and well-knit frame would not at once release the imprisoned spirit. By stealth, there had been there, in the darkness of the night, poor desolated creatures, who stole from their scanty hours' rest, that they might repay to him some of those ministrations of love in which he had always been so abundant. Truly, those poor disciples had little to give,- only the cup of cold water; but it was given with full hearts. Tears had fallen on that honest, insensible face, tears of late repentance in the poor, ignorant heathen, whom his dying love and patience had awakened to repentance, and bitter prayers, breathed over him to a late-found Saviour, of whom they scarce knew more than the name, but whom the yearning ignorant heart of man never implores in vain. Cassy, who had glided out of her place of concealment, and, by overhearing, learned the sacrifice that had been made for her and Emmeline, had been there, the night before, defying the danger of detection; and, moved by the few last words which the affectionate soul had yet strength to breathe, the long winter of despair, the ice of years, had given way, and the dark, despairing woman had wept and prayed. When George entered the shed, he felt his head giddy and his heart sick. "Is it possible, is it possible?" said he, kneeling down by him. "Uncle Tom, my poor, poor old friend!” Something in the voice penetrated to the ear of the dying. He moved his head gently, smiled, and said, "Jesus can make a dying bed Feel soft as downy pillows are." Tears which did honor to his manly heart fell from the young man's eyes, as he bent over his poor friend.. "Oh, dear Uncle Tom! do wake, Look up! Here's Mas'r George, do speak once more! your own little Mas'r "Mas'r George!" said Tom, opening his eyes, and speaking in a feeble voice. "Mas'r George!" He looked bewildered. Slowly the idea seemed to fill his soul; and the vacant eye became fixed and brightened, the whole face lighted up, the hard hands clasped, and tears ran down the cheeks. "Bless the Lord! it is, it is, it's all I wanted! They haven't forgot me. It warms my soul; it does my old heart good! Now I shall die content! Bless the Lord, oh, my soul!" "You shan't die! you must n't die, nor think of it. I've come to buy you, and take you home," said George, with impetuous vehemence. The Lord's bought me, Heaven is "Oh, Mas'r George, ye 're too late. and is going to take me home, and I long to go. better than Kinturk." 66 Oh, don't die! It'll kill me! it'll break my heart to think what you've suffered, and lying in this old shed, here! Poor, poor fellow ! " "I have "Don't call me poor fellow!" said Tom, solemnly. been poor fellow; but that's all past and gone, now. I'm right in the door, going into glory! Oh, Mas'r George! Heaven has come! I've got the victory! - the Lord Jesus has given it to me! Glory be to his name!" George was awe-struck at the force, the vehemence, the power, with which these broken sentences were uttered. He sat gazing in silence. me; Tom grasped his hand, and continued, "Ye must n't, now, tell Chloe, poor soul! how found ye -'t would be so drefful to her. Only tell her ye found me going into glory; and that I could n't stay for no one. And tell her the Lord's stood by me everywhere and al'ays, and made everything light and easy. And oh, the poor chil'en, and the baby!-my old heart's been most broke for 'em, time and agin! Tell 'em all to follow me follow me! Give my love to Mas'r, and dear good Missis, and everybody in the place! Ye don't know! 'Pears like I loves 'em all! I loves every creatur' everywhar! -it's nothing but love! Oh, Mas'r George, what a thing 't is to be a Christian! At this moment, Legree sauntered up to the door of the shed, |