Weldon, gravely.

"We should be honored in serving you, Mrs. Weldon," then said old Tom.
"But, as Mr. Harris knows, we do not belong to anybody. I have been a
slave myself, it is true, and sold as such in Africa, when I was only
six years old; but my son Bat, here, was born of an enfranchised
father, and, as to our companions, they were born of free parents."

"I can only congratulate you about it," replied Harris, in a tone which
Mrs. Weldon did not find sufficiently serious. "In this land of
Bolivia, also, we have no slaves. Then you have nothing to fear, and
you can go about as freely here as in the New England States."

At that moment little Jack, followed by Nan, came out of the grotto
rubbing his eyes. Then, perceiving his mother, he ran to her. Mrs.
Weldon embraced him tenderly.

"The charming little boy!" said the American, approaching Jack.

"It is my son," replied Mrs. Weldon.

"Oh, Mrs. Weldon, you must have been doubly tried, because your child
has been exposed to so many dangers."

"God has brought him out of them safe and sound, as He has us, Mr.
Harris," replied Mrs. Weldon.

"Will you permit me to kiss him on his pretty cheeks?" asked Harris.

"Willingly," replied Mrs. Weldon.