“You remember us, then?” said Nic, smiling sadly.
“Oh yes,” cried the younger woman eagerly. “But they are hungry, mother. Bring them up to the house; I’ve shut-in the dogs.”
“I don’t know what your father would say if he knew what we did,” said the woman sadly. “It’s against the law to help slaves to escape.”
“It isn’t against the law to give starving people something to eat, mother.”
“It can’t be; can it, dear?” said the woman. “And we needn’t help them to escape.”
“No,” said Pete; “we can manage that if you’ll give us a bit o’ bread. I won’t ask for meat, missus; but if you give us a bit, too, I’d thank you kindly.”
“Bring them up, mother,” said the girl; “and if father ever knows I’ll say it was all my fault.”
“Yes; come up to the house,” said the elder woman. “I can’t bear to see you poor white men taken for slaves.”
“God bless you for that!” cried Nic, catching at the woman’s hand; but his action was so sudden that she started away in alarm.
“Oh mother!” cried the girl; “can’t you see what he meant?”