Two days after, a young man drove a light wagon up through the avenue ofChina trees, and, throwing the reins hastily on the horse's neck, sprangout and inquired for the owner of the place.

It was George Shelby; and, to show how he came to be there, we must goback in our story.

The letter of Miss Ophelia to Mrs. Shelby had, by some unfortunateaccident, been detained, for a month or two, at some remote post-office,before it reached its destination; and, of course, before it wasreceived, Tom was already lost to view among the distant swamps of theRed River.

Mrs. Shelby read the intelligence with the deepest concern; butany immediate action upon it was an impossibility. She was then inattendance on the sick-bed of her husband, who lay delirious in thecrisis of a fever. Master George Shelby, who, in the interval, hadchanged from a boy to a tall young man, was her constant and faithfulassistant, and her only reliance in superintending his father's affairs.Miss Ophelia had taken the precaution to send them the name of thelawyer who did business for the St. Clares; and the most that, in theemergency, 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, anabsorbing pressure of other interests, for a season.

Mr. Shelby showed his confidence in his wife's ability, by appointingher sole executrix upon his estates; and thus immediately a large andcomplicated amount of business was brought upon her hands.

Mrs. Shelby, with characteristic energy, applied herself to the work ofstraightening the entangled web of affairs; and she and George werefor some time occupied with collecting and examining accounts, sellingproperty and settling debts; for Mrs. Shelby was determined thateverything should be brought into tangible and recognizable shape, letthe consequences to her prove what they might. In the mean time, theyreceived a letter from the lawyer to whom Miss Ophelia had referredthem, saying that he knew nothing of the matter; that the man was soldat a public auction, and that, beyond receiving the money, he knewnothing 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 hismother, down the river, resolved to visit New Orleans, in person, andpush his inquiries, in hopes of discovering Tom's whereabouts, andrestoring him.

After some months of unsuccessful search, by the merest accident, Georgefell in with a man, in New Orleans, who happened to be possessed of thedesired information; and with his money in his pocket, our hero tooksteamboat for Red River, resolving to find out and re-purchase his oldfriend.

He was soon introduced into the house, where he found Legree in thesitting-room.

Legree received the stranger with a kind of surly hospitality,

"I understand," said the young man, "that you bought, in New Orleans, aboy, named Tom. He used to be on my father's place, and I came to see ifI couldn't buy him back."

Legree's brow grew dark, and he broke out, passionately: "Yes, I didbuy such a fellow,--and a h--l of a bargain I had of it, too! The mostrebellious, saucy, impudent dog! Set up my niggers to run away; got offtwo gals, worth eight hundred or a thousand apiece. He owned to that,and, when I bid him tell me where they was, he up and said he knew,but he wouldn't tell; and stood to it, though I gave him the cussedestflogging I ever gave nigger yet. I b'lieve he's trying to die; but Idon't know as he'll make it out."

"Where is he?" said George, impetuously. "Let me see him." The cheeks ofthe young man were crimson, and his eyes flashed fire; but he prudentlysaid nothing, as yet.

"He's in dat ar shed," said a little fellow, who stood holding George'shorse.

Legree kicked the boy, and swore at him; but George, without sayinganother word, turned and strode to the spot.

Tom had been lying two days since the fatal night, not suffering, forevery nerve of suffering was blunted and destroyed. He lay, for the mostpart, in a quiet stupor; for the laws of a powerful and well-knit framewould not at once release the imprisoned spirit. By stealth, there hadbeen there, in the darkness of the night, poor desolated creatures, whostole from their scanty hours' rest, that they might repay to him someof those ministrations of love in which he had always been so abundant.Truly, those poor disciples had little to give,--only the cup of coldwater; but it was given with full hearts.

Tears had fallen on that honest, insensible face,--tears of laterepentance in the poor, ignorant heathen, whom his dying love andpatience had awakened to repentance, and bitter prayers, breathed overhim to a late-found Saviour, of whom they scarce knew more than thename, but whom the yearning ignorant heart of man never implores invain.

Cassy, who had glided out of her place of concealment, and, byoverhearing, learned the sacrifice that had been made for her andEmmeline, had been there, the night before, defying the danger ofdetection; and, moved by the last few words which the affectionate soulhad yet strength to breathe, the long winter of despair, the ice ofyears, had given way, and the dark, despairing woman had wept andprayed.

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 hishead gently, smiled, and said,

"Jesus can make a dying-bed Feel soft as down pillows are."

Tears which did honor to his manly heart fell from the young man's eyes,as he bent over his poor friend.

"O, dear Uncle Tom! do wake,--do speak once more! Look up! Here's Mas'rGeorge,--your own little Mas'r George. Don't you know me?"

"Mas'r George!" said Tom, opening his eyes, and speaking in a feeblevoice; "Mas'r George!" He looked bewildered.

Slowly the idea seemed to fill his soul; and the vacant eye became fixedand brightened, the whole face lighted up, the hard hands clasped, andtears ran down the cheeks.

"Bless the Lord! it is,--it is,--it's all I wanted! They haven't forgotme. It warms my soul; it does my heart good! Now I shall die content!Bless the Lord, on my soul!"

"You shan't die! you _mustn't_ die, nor think of it! I've come to buyyou, and take you home," said George, with impetuous vehemence.

"O, Mas'r George, ye're too late. The Lord's bought me, and is going totake me home,--and I long to go. Heaven is better than Kintuck."

"O, don't die! It'll kill me!--it'll break my heart to think what you'vesuffered,--and lying in this old shed, here! Poor, poor fellow!"

"Don't call me poor fellow!" said Tom, solemnly, "I _have_ been poorfellow; but that's all past and gone, now. I'm right in the door,going into glory! O, Mas'r George! _Heaven has come!_ I've got thevictory!--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 whichthese broken sentences were uttered. He sat gazing in silence.

Tom grasped his hand, and continued,--"Ye mustn't, now, tell Chloe, poorsoul! how ye found me;--'t would be so drefful to her. Only tell her yefound me going into glory; and that I couldn't stay for no one. And tellher the Lord's stood by me everywhere and al'ays, and made everythinglight and easy. And oh, the poor chil'en, and the baby;--my oldheart's been most broke for 'em, time and agin! Tell 'em all tofollow me--follow me! Give my love to Mas'r, and dear good Missis, andeverybody in the place! Ye don't know! 'Pears like I loves 'em all!I loves every creature everywhar!--it's nothing _but_ love! O, Mas'rGeorge! what a thing 't is to be a Christian!"

At this moment, Legree sauntered up to the door of the shed, looked in,with a dogged air of affected carelessness, and turned away.

"The old Satan!" said George, in his indignation. "It's a comfort tothink the devil will pay _him_ for this, some of these days!"

"O, don't!--oh, ye mustn't!" said Tom, grasping his hand; "he's apoor mis'able critter! it's awful to think on 't! Oh, if he only couldrepent, the Lord would forgive him now; but I'm 'feared he never will!"

"I hope he won't!" said George; "I never want to see _him_ in heaven!"

"Hush, Mas'r George!--it worries me! Don't feel so! He an't done me noreal harm,--only opened the gate of the kingdom for me; that's all!"

At this moment, the sudden flush of strength which the joy of meetinghis young master had infused into the dying man gave way. A suddensinking fell upon him; he closed his eyes; and that mysterious andsublime change passed over his face, that told the approach of otherworlds.

He began to draw his breath with long, deep inspirations; and his broadchest rose and fell, heavily. The expression of his face was that of aconqueror.

"Who,--who,--who shall separate us from the love of Christ?" he said, ina voice that contended with mortal weakness; and, with a smile, he fellasleep.

George sat fixed with solemn awe. It seemed to him that the place washoly; and, as he closed the lifeless eyes, and rose up from the dead,only one thought possessed him,--that expressed by his simple oldfriend,--"What a thing it is to be a Christian!"

He turned: Legree was standing, sullenly, behind him.

Something in that dying scene had checked the natural fierceness ofyouthful passion. The presence of the man was simply loathsome toGeorge; and he felt only an impulse to get away from him, with as fewwords as possible.

Fixing his keen dark eyes on Legree, he simply said, pointing to thedead, "You have got all you ever can of him. What shall I pay you forthe body? I will take it away, and bury it decently."

"I don't sell dead niggers," said Legree, doggedly. "You are welcome tobury him where and when you like."

"Boys," said George, in an authoritative tone, to two or three negroes,who were looking at the body, "help me lift him up, and carry him to mywagon; and get me a spade."

One of them ran for a spade; the other two assisted George to carry thebody to the wagon.

George neither spoke to nor looked at Legree, who did not countermandhis orders, but stood, whistling, with an air of forced unconcern. Hesulkily followed them to where the wagon stood at the door.

George spread his cloak in the wagon, and had the body carefullydisposed of in it,--moving the seat, so as to give it room. Then heturned, fixed his eyes on Legree, and said, with forced composure,

"I have not, as yet, said to you what I think of this most atrociousaffair;--this is not the time and place. But, sir, this innocent bloodshall have justice. I will proclaim this murder. I will go to the veryfirst magistrate, and expose you."

"Do!" said Legree, snapping his fingers, scornfully. "I'd like to seeyou doing it. Where you going to get witnesses?--how you going to proveit?--Come, now!"

George saw, at once, the force of this defiance. There was not a whiteperson on the place; and, in all southern courts, the testimony ofcolored blood is nothing. He felt, at that moment, as if he could haverent the heavens with his heart's indignant cry for justice; but invain.

"After all, what a fuss, for a dead nigger!" said Legree.

The word was as a spark to a powder magazine. Prudence was never acardinal virtue of the Kentucky boy. George turned, and, with oneindignant blow, knocked Legree flat upon his face; and, as he stoodover him, blazing with wrath and defiance, he would have formed no badpersonification of his great namesake triumphing over the dragon.

Some men, however, are decidedly bettered by being knocked down. If aman lays them fairly flat in the dust, they seem immediately toconceive a respect for him; and Legree was one of this sort. As herose, therefore, and brushed the dust from his clothes, he eyed theslowly-retreating wagon with some evident consideration; nor did he openhis mouth till it was out of sight.

Beyond the boundaries of the plantation, George had noticed a dry, sandyknoll, shaded by a few trees; there they made the grave.

"Shall we take off the cloak, Mas'r?" said the negroes, when the gravewas ready.

"No, no,--bury it with him! It's all I can give you, now, poor Tom, andyou shall have it."

They laid him in; and the men shovelled away, silently. They banked itup, and laid green turf over it.

"You may go, boys," said George, slipping a quarter into the hand ofeach. They lingered about, however.

"If young Mas'r would please buy us--" said one.

"We'd serve him so faithful!" said the other.

"Hard times here, Mas'r!" said the first. "Do, Mas'r, buy us, please!"

"I can't!--I can't!" said George, with difficulty, motioning them off;"it's impossible!"

The poor fellows looked dejected, and walked off in silence.

"Witness, eternal God!" said George, kneeling on the grave of his poorfriend; "oh, witness, that, from this hour, I will do _what one man can_to drive out this curse of slavery from my land!"

There is no monument to mark the last resting-place of our friend.He needs none! His Lord knows where he lies, and will raise him up,immortal, to appear with him when he shall appear in his glory.

Pity him not! Such a life and death is not for pity! Not in the richesof omnipotence is the chief glory of God; but in self-denying, sufferinglove! And blessed are the men whom he calls to fellowship with him,bearing their cross after him with patience. Of such it is written,"Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted."