Story 1--Chapter IV.
The Dawn.
I do not think Mou-Setsé ever told any one what his feelings really were when he at last understood that he was free; that the English who had captured him, far from being his worst enemies, were proving themselves his best friends.
There is a story told of him that, when he first landed at Sierra Leone, and saw a kind-looking black woman, he threw his arms round her neck, whispered to her in his native tongue that she was like his mother, and wept some of the tears he had restrained through all his sufferings on her bosom.
But perhaps his early and great suffering had made him reserved, for, unlike most of his race, he had few words, and no ejaculations, to betray his feelings.
For a time he even scarcely trusted the new life of peace and happiness which was opening before him. He had many dreams of being retaken as a slave, and his little face had a wistful and scarcely trustful expression.
The kind English, however, did well by him. He was sent to a mission school at Freetown, where he was taught to read and to speak English; also to write, and, above all, in this school he first got any true, knowledge of God.