“No one,” replied I: and I then told him how I had fallen into it.
“Well you have returned all obligations, and more than ever you owed me,” said he: “you have saved my life this time, and that when all chance was over.”
“Then,” replied I, “although I shall be very sorry to part with you, give me that liberty which I had gained, and which I lost in defending you from the dogs.”
“I would have let you go then, Cato,” replied he, “but your life would have been sacrificed. My pursuers would have hurried you to prison before you could have explained who you were. You forget your colour is changed; they were not seeking me, but a runaway slave, and the bloodhounds came upon my track. Those white men show no mercy; they have more pleasure in seeing a runaway slave torn to pieces by those dogs than in recovering possession of him. It is a sort of fox-chase to them,” continued he, grating his teeth after he had said so. “Cato, I will give you your liberty, if you wish it, and I know you do wish it, as soon as I can with any prudence; that I promise you, and you know that I will keep my word.”
“I am quite satisfied,” replied I.
“And do you promise me that you will not attempt to escape a second time?”
“I promise you that I will not,” replied I.
“Enough,” said Vincent. “Now let us go down the hill, for I am very much torn by those infernal brutes, and must have the wounds washed and attended to.”
We descended the hill, in silence, and in a quarter of an hour had gained the tent. Vincent was severely bitten and torn: as soon as his wounds had been dressed he lay down on his mat, and I did the same.
It was some days before Vincent recovered from the severe injuries which he had received from the bloodhounds; and he did not appear to be inclined to run any more risks of that sort. Although he said little, I could perceive that he was brooding over future vengeance and he was now nearly the whole of the day with his glass on the look-out hill.