"Silas Ropes, this very night. He come to me, and says, says he, 'We've gin your abolition boarder a coat, which you must charge to his account;' for you see," added the head at the window, pathetically, "they took the bed he has slep' on, right out of my house, and I don't s'pose I shall see ary feather of that bed ever agin! live goose's feathers they was too! and a poor lone widder that could ill afford it!"
"Where is the master?"
"Wal, after Ropes and his friends was gone, he comes too, an awful lookin' object as ever you see! 'Mrs. Sprowl,' says he, 'don't be scared; it's only me; won't ye let me in?' for ye see, I'd shet the house agin' him in season, detarmined so dangerous a character should never darken my doors agin."
"And he was naked!"
"I 'spose he was, all but the feathers, and suthin' or other he seemed to have flung over him."
"Such a night as this!" exclaimed Stackridge. "You're a heartless jade, Mrs. Sprowl!—I don't wonder the fellow hates slavery," he muttered to himself, "when it makes ruffians of the men and monsters even of the women!—Which way did he go?"
"That's more'n I can tell!" answered the lady, sharply. "It's none o' my business where he goes, if he don't come here! That I won't have, call me what names you please!" And she shut the window.
"Hang the critter! after all Hapgood has done for her!" said the indignant Stackridge,—for it was well-known that she was indebted to the gentle and generous Penn for many benefits. "But it's no use to stand here. We'll go to my house, men,—may be he's there."