The look of fire,
that for a short time glowed on his countenance, disappeared in the
solemn lines of unbending self-abasement, and, speaking as if addressing
a negro, he replied,--
"In heaven there is no distinction of color, my brother, therefore you
have a precious charge within you, that you must hereafter render an
account of;" dropping his voice--"this is the last sentinel near the
road; look not back, as you value your life."
Henry remembered his situation, and instantly assumed the humble
demeanor of his adopted character. The unaccountable energy of the
peddler's manner was soon forgotten in the sense of his own immediate
danger; and with the recollection of his critical situation, returned
all the uneasiness that he had momentarily forgotten.
"What see you, Harvey?" he cried, observing the peddler to gaze towards
the building they had left, with ominous interest. "What see you at
the house?"
"That which bodes no good to us," returned the pretended priest. "Throw
aside the mask and wig; you will need all your senses without much
delay; throw them in the road. There are none before us that I dread,
but there are those behind who will give us a fearful race!"
"Nay, then," cried the captain, casting the implements of his disguise
into the highway, "let us improve our time to the utmost.
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