Then her mind cleared and the true situation developed itself:--for months she had hugged to herself the comforting thought that she had only to stretch out her hand and bring him to her feet.

He had now looked her full in the face and proclaimed his freedom.

It was as if she had caged a bird and found the door open and the prisoner singing in a tree overhead.
That same night she sat by her wood fire in her chamber, her old black mammy--Mammy Henny--bending close, combing out her marvellous hair.

She had been studying the coals, watching the little castles pile and fall; the quick smothering of slowly fading sparks under a blanket of gray ashes, and the wavering, flickering light that died on the curling smoke.

She had not spoken for a long time, when the old woman roused her.
"Whar was you dis mawnin', honey chile?
Mister Willits done wait mo'n ha'f a hour, den he say he come back an' fetch his sorrel horse wid him dis arternoon an' take ye ridin'.