[Gestures.]

The Death of Uncle Tom.

Adapted by C. R. Bechtel.

The escape of Cassy and Emmeline irritated the before surly temper of Legree to the last degree; and his fury, as was to be expected, fell upon the defenceless head of Tom. When he hurriedly announced the tidings among his hands, there was a sudden light in Tom’s eye, a sudden upraising of his hands, that did not escape him. He saw that he did not join the muster of the pursuers. He thought of forcing him to do it, but, having had, of old, experience of his inflexibility when commanded to take part in any deed of inhumanity, he would not, in his hurry, stop to enter into any conflict with him.

Tom, therefore, remained behind, with a few who had learned of him to pray, and offered up prayers for the escape of the fugitives.

When Legree returned, baffled and disappointed, all the long-working hatred of his soul toward his slave began to gather in a deadly and desperate form.

“Well, Tom!” said Legree, walking up and seizing him grimly by the collar of his coat, and speaking through his teeth, in a paroxysm of determined rage, “do you know, I’ve made up my mind to kill you?”

“It’s very likely, Mas’r,” said Tom, calmly.

“I have,” said Legree, with grim, terrible calmness, “done—just—that—thing, Tom, unless you’ll tell me what you know about these yer gals!”