I wondered if it were some deep wrong or sorrow,
kept alive by memory and impotent regret; if he
mourned for the dead master to whom he had been
faithful to the end; or if the liberty now his were
robbed of half its sweetness by the knowledge that
some one near and dear to him still languished in
the hell from which he had escaped. My heart
quite warmed to him at that idea; I wanted to
know and comfort him; and, following the impulse
of the moment, I went in and touched him on the
shoulder.
In an instant the man vanished and the slave
appeared. Freedom was too new a boon to have
wrought its blessed changes yet, and as he started
up, with his hand at his temple and an obsequious
"Yes, Ma'am," any romance that had gathered
round him fled away, leaving the saddest of all
sad facts in living guise before me. Not only did
the manhood seem to die out of him, but the comeliness
that first attracted me; for, as he turned, I
saw the ghastly wound that had laid open cheek
and forehead.
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