time. Arfter ole marster went to bed, he went in de charmber an’ set
on de bed by ’im talkin’ to ’im an’ tellin’ ’im ’bout de meetin’ an’
ev’ything; but he nuver mention ole Cun’l Chahmb’lin’s name. When he
got up to come out to de office in de yard, whar he slept, he stooped
down an’ kissed ’im jes’ like he wuz a baby layin’ dyar in de bed, an’
he’d hardly let ole missis go at all. I knowed some’n wuz up, an’ nex’
mawnin’ I called ’im early befo’ light, like he tole me, an’ he dressed
an’ come out pres’n’y jes’ like he wuz goin’ to church. I had de hosses
ready, an’ we went out de back way to ’ds de river. Ez we rode along,
he said:
“‘Sam, you an’ I wuz boys togedder, wa’n’t we?’
“‘Yes,’ sez I, ’Marse Chan, dat we wuz.’
“‘You have been ve’y faithful to me,’ sez he, ’a’n’ I have seen to it
that you are well provided fur. You want to marry Judy, I know, an’
you’ll be able to buy her ef you want to.’
“Den he tole me he wuz goin’ to fight a duil, an’ in case he should git
shot, he had set me free an’ giv’ me nuff to tek keer o’ me an’ my wife
ez long ez we lived. He said he’d like me to stay an’ tek keer o’ ole
marster an’ ole missis ez long ez dey lived, an’ he said it wouldn’ be
very long, he reckoned. Dat wuz de on’y time he voice broke—when he
said dat; an’ I couldn’ speak a wud, my th’oat choked me so.
“When we come to de river, we tu’ned right up de bank, an’ arfter
ridin’ ’bout a mile or sich a matter, we stopped whar dey wuz a little
clearin’ wid elder bushes on one side an’ two big gum-trees on de urr,
an’ de sky wuz all red, an’ de water down to’ds whar the sun wuz comin’
wuz jes’ like de sky.
“Pres’n’y Mr. Gordon he come, wid a ’hogany box ’bout so big ’fore
’im, an’ he got down, an’ Marse Chan tole me to tek all de hosses an’
go ’roun’ behine de bushes whar I tell you ’bout—off to one side; an’
’fore I got ’roun’ dar, ole Cun’l Chahmb’lin an’ Mr. Hennin an’ Dr.
Call come ridin’ from t’urr way, to’ds ole Cun’l Chahmb’lin’s. When dey
hed tied dey hosses, de urr gent’mens went up to whar Mr. Gordon wuz,
an’ arfter some chattin’ Mr. Hennin step’ off ’bout fur ez ’cross dis
road, or mebbe it mout be a little furder; an’ den I seed ’em th’oo de
bushes loadin’ de pistils, an’ talk a little while; an’ den Marse Chan
an’ ole Cun’l Chahmb’lin walked up wid de pistils in dey han’s, an’
Marse Chan he stood wid his face right to’ds de sun. I seen it shine
on him jes’ ez it come up over de low groun’s, an’ he look like he did
sometimes when he come out of church. I wuz so skeered I couldn’ say
nothin’. Ole Cun’l Chahmb’lin could shoot fust rate, an’ Marse Chan he
never missed.
“Den I heared Mr. Gordon say, ’Gent’mens, is yo’ ready?’ and bofe of
’em sez, ’Ready,’ jes’ so.
“An’ he sez, ’Fire, one, two’—an’ ez he said ’one,’ old Cun’l
Chahmb’lin raised he pistil an’ shot right at Marse Chan. De ball went
th’oo his hat. I seen he hat sort o’ settle on he head ez de bullit
hit it, an’ _he_ jes’ tilted his pistil up in de a’r an’ shot—_bang_;
an’ ez de pistil went _bang_, he sez to Cun’l Chahmb’lin, ’I mek you a
present to yo’ fam’ly, seh!’
“Well, dey had some talkin’ arfter dat. I didn’t git rightly what it
wuz; but it ’peared like Cun’l Chahmb’lin he warn’t satisfied, an’
wanted to have anurr shot. De seconds dey wuz talkin’, an’ pres’n’y
dey put de pistils up, an’ Marse Chan an’ Mr. Gordon shook han’s wid
Mr. Hennin an’ Dr. Call, an’ come an’ got on dey bosses. An’ Cun’l
Chahmb’lin he got on his hoss an’ rode away wid de urr gent’mens,
lookin’ like he did de day befo’ when all de people laughed at ’im.
“I b’lieve ole Cun’l Chahmb’lin wan’ to shoot Marse Chan, anyway!
“We come on home to breakfast, I totin’ de box wid de pistils befo’ me
on de roan. Would you b’lieve me, seh, Marse Chan he nuver said a wud
’bout it to ole marster or nobody. Ole missis didn’ fin’ out ’bout it
for mo’n a month, an’ den, Lawd! how she did cry and kiss Marse Chan;
an’ ole marster, aldo’ he never say much, he wuz jes’ ez please’ ez ole
missis. He call me in de room an’ made me tole ’im all ’bout it, an’
when I got th’oo he gi’ me five dollars an’ a pyar of breeches.
“But ole Cun’l Chahmb’lin he nuver did furgive Marse Chan, an’ Miss
Anne she got mad too. Wimmens is mons’us onreasonable nohow. Dey’s jes’
like a catfish: you can n’ tek hole on ’em like udder folks, an’ when
you gits ’im yo’ can n’ always hole ’em.
“What meks me think so? Heaps o’ things—dis: Marse Chan he done gi’
Miss Anne her pa jes’ ez good ez I gi’ Marse Chan’s dawg sweet ’taters,
an’ she git mad wid ’im ez if he hed kill ’im ’stid o’ sen’in’ ’im back
to her dat mawnin’ whole an’ soun’. B’lieve me! she wouldn’ even speak
to him arfter dat!
“Don’ I ’member dat mawnin’!
“We wuz gwine fox-huntin’, ’bout six weeks or sich a matter arfter
de duil, an’ we met Miss Anne ridin’ ’long wid anurr lady an’ two
gent’mens whar wuz stayin’ at her house. Dyar wuz always some one or
nurr dyar co’ting her. Well, dat mawnin’ we meet ’em right in de road.
Twuz de fust time Marse Chan had see her sence de duil, an’ he raises
he hat ez he pahss, an’ she looks right at ’im wid her head up in de
yair like she nuver see ’im befo’ in her born days; an’ when she comes
by me, she sez, ’Good-mawnin’, Sam!’ Gord! I nuver see nuthin’ like
de look dat come on Marse Chan’s face when she pahss ’im like dat. He
gi’ de sorrel a pull dat fotch ’im back settin’ down in de san’ on
he handles. He ve’y lips wuz white. I tried to keep up wid ’im, but
’twarn’ no use. He sont me back home pres’n’y, an’ he rid on. I sez to
myself, ’Cun’l Chahmb’lin, don’ yo’ meet Marse Chan dis mawnin’. He
ain’ bin lookin’ ’roun’ de ole school-house, whar he an’ Miss Anne
use’ to go to school to ole Mr. Hall together, fur nuffin’. He won’
stan’ no prodjickin’ to-day.’
“He nuver come home dat night tell ’way late, an’ ef he’d been
fox-huntin’ it mus’ ha’ been de ole red whar lives down in de greenscum
mashes he’d been chasin’. De way de sorrel wuz gormed up wid sweat an’
mire sut’n’y did hu’t me. He walked up to de stable wid he head down
all de way, an’ I’se seen ’im go eighty miles of a winter day, an’
prance into de stable at night ez fresh ez if he hed jes’ cantered over
to ole Cun’l Chahmb’lin’s to supper. I nuver seen a hoss beat so sence
I knowed de fetlock from de fo’lock, an’ bad ez he wuz he wan’ ez bad
ez Marse Chan.
“Whew! he didn’ git over dat thing, seh—he nuver did git over it.
“De war come on jes’ den, an’ Marse Chan wuz elected cap’n; but he
wouldn’ tek it. He said Firginia hadn’ seceded, an’ he wuz gwine stan’
by her. Den dey ’lected Mr. Gordon cap’n.
“I sut’n’y did wan’ Marse Chan to tek de place, cuz I knowed he wuz
gwine tek me wid ’im. He wan’ gwine widout Sam. An’ beside, he look so
po’ an’ thin, I thought he wuz gwine die.
“Of co’se, ole missis she heared ’bout it, an’ she met Miss Anne in de
road, an’ cut her jes’ like Miss Anne cut Marse Chan.
“Ole missis, she wuz proud ez anybody! So we wuz mo’ strangers dan ef
we hadn’ live’ in a hundred miles of each urr. An’ Marse Chan he wuz
gittin’ thinner an’ thinner, an’ Firginia she come out, an’ den Marse
Chan he went to Richmond an’ listed, an’ come back an’ sey he wuz a
private, an’ he didn’ know whe’r he could tek me or not. He writ to Mr.
Gordon, hows’ever, an’ ’twuz ’cided dat when he went I wuz to go ’long
an’ wait on him an’ de cap’n too. I didn’ min’ dat, yo’ know, long ez I
could go wid Marse Chan, an’ I like’ Mr. Gordon, anyways.
“Well, one night Marse Chan come back from de offis wid a telegram dat
say, ’Come at once,’ so he wuz to start nex’ mawnin’. He uniform wuz
all ready, gray wid yaller trimmin’s, an’ mine wuz ready too, an’ he
had ole marster’s sword, whar de State gi’ ’im in de Mexikin war; an’
he trunks wuz all packed wid ev’rything in ’em, an’ my chist was packed
too, an’ Jim Rasher he druv ’em over to de depo’ in de waggin, an’ we
wuz to start nex’ mawuin’ ’bout light. Dis wuz ’bout de las’ o’ spring,
you know. Dat night ole missis made Marse Chan dress up in he uniform,
an’ he sut’n’y did look splendid, wid he long mustache an’ he wavin’
hyar an’ he tall figger.
“Arfter supper he come down an’ sez: ’Sam, I wan’ you to tek dis note
an’ kyar it over to Cun’l Chahmb’lin’s, an’ gi’ it to Miss Anne wid yo’
own han’s, an’ bring me wud what she sez. Don’ let any one know ’bout
it, or know why you’ve gone.’ ’Yes, seh,’ sez I.
“Yo’ see, I knowed Miss Anne’s maid over at ole Cun’l Chahmb’lin’s—dat
wuz Judy whar is my wife now—an’ I knowed I could wuk it. So I tuk de
roan an’ rid over, an’ tied ’im down de hill in de cedars, an’ I wen’
’roun’ to de back yard. ’Twuz a right blowy sort o’ night; de moon wuz
jes’ risin’, but de clouds wuz so big it didn’ shine ’cep’ th’oo a
crack now an’ den. I soon foun’ my gal, an’ arfter tellin’ her two or
three lies ’bout herse’f, I got her to go in an’ ax Miss Anne to come
to de do’. When she come, I gi’ her de note, an’ arfter a little while
she bro’t me anurr, an’ I tole her good-bye, an’ she gi’ me a dollar,
an’ I come home an’ gi’ de letter to Marse Chan. He read it, an’ tole
me to have de hosses ready at twenty minits to twelve at de corner of
de garden. An’ jes’ befo’ dat he come out ez ef he wuz gwine to bed,
but instid he come, an’ we all struck out to’ds Cun’l Chahmb’lin’s.
When we got mos’ to de gate, de hosses got sort o’ skeered, an’ I see
dey wuz some’n or somebody standin’ jes’ inside; an’ Marse Chan he
jumpt off de sorrel an’ flung me de bridle an’ he walked up.
“She spoke fust (’twuz Miss Anne had done come out dyar to meet Marse
Chan), an’ she sez, jes’ ez cold ez a chill, ’Well, seh, I granted your
favor. I wished to relieve myse’f of de obligations you placed me under
a few months ago, when you made me a present of my father, whom you
fust insulted an’ then prevented from gittin’ satisfaction.’
“Marse Chan he didn’ speak fur a minit, an’ den he said: ’Who is with
you?’ Dat wuz ev’y wud.
“‘No one,’ sez she; ’I came alone.’
“‘My God!’ sez he, ’you didn’ come all through those woods by yourse’f
at this time o’ night?’
“‘Yes, I’m not afraid,’ sez she. (An’ heah dis nigger! I don’ b’lieve
she wuz.)
“De moon come out, an’ I cotch sight o’ her stan’in’ dyar in her white
dress, wid de cloak she had wrapped herse’f up in drapped off on de
groun’, an’ she didn’ look like she wuz ’feared o’ nuthin’. She wuz
mons’us purty ez she stood dyar wid de green bushes behine her, an’ she
hed jes’ a few flowers in her breas’—right hyah—and some leaves in
her sorrel hyar; an’ de moon come out an’ shined down on her hyar an’
her frock an’ ’peared like de light wuz jes’ stan’in’ off it ez she
stood dyar lookin’ at Marse Chan wid her head tho’d back, jes’ like dat
mawnin’ when she pahss Marse Chan in de road widout speakin’ to ’im,
an’ sez to me, ’Good-mawnin’, Sam.’
“Marse Chan, he den tole her he hed come to say good-bye to her, ez
he wuz gwine ’way to de war nex’ mawnin’. I wuz watchin’ on her, an’
I tho’t, when Marse Chan tole her dat, she sort o’ started an’ looked
up at ’im like she wuz mighty sorry, an’ ’peared like she didn’ stan’
quite so straight arfter dat. Den Marse Chan he went on talkin’ right
fars’ to her; an’ he tole her how he had loved her ever sence she wuz
a little bit o’ baby mos’, an’ how he nuver ’membered de time when he
hedn’t ’spected to marry her. He tole her it wuz his love for her dat
hed made ’im stan’ fust at school an’ collige, an’ hed kep’ ’im good
an’ pure; an’ now he wuz gwine ’way, wouldn’t she let it be like ’twuz
in ole times, an’ ef he come back from de war wouldn’ she try to think
on him ez she use’ to do when she wuz a little guirl?
“Marse Chan he had done been talkin’ so serious, he hed done tuk Miss
Anne’s han’, an’ wuz lookin’ down in her face like he wuz list’nin’ wid
his eyes.
“Arfter a minit Miss Anne she said somethin’, an’ Marse Chan he cotch
her urr han’ an’ sez:
“‘But if you love me, Anne?’
“When he said dat, she tu’ned her head ’way from ’im, an’ wait’ a
minit, an’ den she said—right clear:
“‘But I don’ love yo’.’ (Jes’ dem th’ee wuds!) De wuds fall right
slow-like dirt falls out a spade on a coffin when yo’s buryin’ anybody,
an’ seys, ’Uth to uth.’ Marse Chan he jes’ let her hand drap, an’ he
stiddy hisse’f ’g’inst de gate-pos’, an’ he didn’ speak torekly. When
he did speak, all he sez wuz:
“‘I mus’ see you home safe.’
“I ’clar, marster, I didn’ know ’twuz Marse Chan’s voice tell I look at
’im right good. Well, she wouldn’ let ’im go wid her. She jes’ wrap’
her cloak ’roun’ her shoulders, an’ wen’ ’long back by herse’f, widout
doin’ more’n jes’ look up once at Marse Chan leanin’ dyah ’g’inst
de gate-pos’ in he sodger clo’s, wid he eyes on de groun’. She said
’Good-bye’ sort o’ sorf, an’ Marse Chan, widout lookin’ up, shake han’s
wid her, an’ she wuz done gone down de road. Soon ez she got ’mos’
’roun’ de curve, Marse Chan he followed her, keepin’ under de trees so
ez not to be seen, an’ I led de hosses on down de road behine ’im. He
kep’ ’long behine her tell she wuz safe in de house, an’ den he come
an’ got on he hoss, an’ we all come home.
“Nex’ mawnin’ we all come off to j’ine de army. An’ dey wuz a-drillin’
an’ a-drillin’ all ’bout for a while, an’ dey went ’long wid all de
res’ o’ de army, an’ I went wid Marse Chan an’ clean he boots, an’ look
arfter de tent, an’ tek keer o’ him an’ de hosses. An’ Marse Chan,
he wan’ a bit like he use’ to be. He wuz so solumn an’ moanful all
de time, at leas’ ’cep’ when dyah wuz gwine to be a fight. Den he’d
peartin’ up, an’ he alwuz rode at de head o’ de company, ’cause he wuz
tall; an’ hit wan’ on’y in battles whar all his company wuz dat _he_
went, but he use’ to volunteer whenever de cun’l wanted anybody to fine
out anythin’, an’ ’twuz so dangersome he didn’ like to mek one man go
no sooner’n anurr, yo’ know, an’ ax’d who’d volunteer. _He_ ’peared to
like to go prowlin’ aroun’ ’mong dem Yankees, an’ he use’ to tek me wid
’im whenever he could. Yes, seh, he sut’n’y wuz a good sodger! He didn’
mine bullets no more’n he did so many draps o’ rain. But I use’ to be
pow’ful skeered sometimes. It jes’ use’ to ’pear like fun to ’im. In
camp he use’ to be so sorrerful he’d hardly open he mouf. You’d ’a’’
tho’t he wuz seekin’, he used to look so moanful; but jes le’ ’im git
into danger, an’ he use’ to be like ole times—jolly an’ laughin’ like
when he wuz a boy.
“When Cap’n Gordon got he leg shot off, dey mek Marse Chan cap’n on de
spot, ’cause one o’ de lieutenants got kilt de same day, an’ turr one
(named Mr. Ronny) wan’ no ’count, an’ de company said Marse Chan wuz de
man.
“An’ Marse Chan he wuz jes’ de same. He didn’ never mention Miss
Anne’s name, but I knowed he wuz thinkin’ on her constant. One night
he wuz settin’ by de fire in camp, an’ Mr. Ronny—he wuz de secon’
lieutenant—got to talkin’ ’bout ladies, an’ he say all sorts o’ things
’bout ’em, an’ I see Marse Chan kinder lookin’ mad; an’ de lieutenant
mention Miss Anne’s name. He had been courtin’ Miss Anne ’bout de time
Marse Chan fit de duil wid her pa, an’ Miss Anne hed kicked ’im, dough
he wuz mighty rich, ’cause he warn’ nuthin’ but a half-strainer, an’
’cause she like Marse Chan, I believe, dough she didn’ speak to ’im;
an’ Mr. Ronny he got drunk, an’ ’cause Cun’l Chahmb’lin tole ’im not to
come dyah no more, he got mighty mad. An’ dat evenin’ I’se tellin’ yo’
’bout, he wuz talkin’, an’ he mention’ Miss Anne’s name. I see Marse
Chan tu’n he eye ’roun’ on ’im an’ keep it on he face, and pres’n’y Mr.
Ronny said he wuz gwine hev some fun dyah yit. He didn’ mention her
name dat time; but he said dey wuz all on ’em a parecel of stuck-up
’risticrats, an’ her pa wan’ no gent’man anyway, an’——I don’ know
what he wuz gwine say (he nuver said it), fur ez he got dat far Marse
Chan riz up an’ hit ’im a crack, an’ he fall like he hed been hit wid
a fence-rail. He challenged Marse Chan to fight a duil, an’ Marse Chan
he excepted de challenge, an’ dey wuz gwine fight; but some on ’em
tole ’im Marse Chan wan’ gwine mek a present o’ him to his fam’ly, an’
he got somebody to bre’k up de duil; ’twan’ nuthin’ dough, but he wuz
’fred to fight Marse Chan. An’ purty soon he lef’ de comp’ny.
“Well, I got one o’ de gent’mens to write Judy a letter for me, an’
I tole her all ’bout de fight, an’ how Marse Chan knock Mr. Ronny
over fur speakin’ discontemptuous o’ Cun’l Chahmb’lin, an’ I tole her
how Marse Chan wuz a-dyin’ fur love o’ Miss Anne. An’ Judy she gits
Miss Anne to read de letter fur her. Den Miss Anne she tells her pa,
an’—you mind, Judy tells me all dis arfterwards, an’ she say when
Cun’l Chahmb’lin hear ’bout it, he wuz settin’ on de poach, an’ he set
still a good while, an’ den he sey to hisse’f:
“‘Well, he carn’ he’p bein’ a Whig.’
“An’ den he gits up an’ walks up to Miss Anne an’ looks at her right
hard; an’ Miss Anne she hed done tu’n away her haid an’ wuz makin’
out she wuz fixin’ a rose-bush ’g’inst de poach; an’ when her pa kep’
lookin’ at her, her face got jes’ de color o’ de roses on de bush, and
pres’n’y her pa sez:
“‘Anne!’
“An’ she tu’ned roun’, an’ he sez:
“‘Do yo’ want ’im?’
“An’ she sez, ’Yes,’ an’ put her head on he shoulder an’ begin to cry;
an’ he sez:
“‘Well, I won’ stan’ between yo’ no longer. Write to ’im an’ say so.’
“We didn’ know nuthin’ ’bout dis den. We wuz a-fightin’ an’ a-fightin’
all dat time; an’ come one day a letter to Marse Chan, an’ I see ’im
start to read it in his tent, an’ he face hit look so cu’ious, an’ he
han’s trembled so I couldn’ mek out what wuz de matter wid ’im. An’ he
fol’ de letter up an’ wen’ out an’ wen’ way down ’hine de camp, an’
stayed dyah ’bout nigh an hour. Well, seh, I wuz on de lookout for
’im when he come back, an’, fo’ Gord, ef he face didn’ shine like a
angel’s! I say to myse’f, ’Um’m! ef de glory o’ Gord ain’ done shine on
’im!’ An’ what yo’ ’spose ’twuz?
“He tuk me wid ’im dat evenin’, an’ he tell me he hed done git a
letter from Miss Anne, an’ Marse Chan he eyes look like gre’t big
stars, an’ he face wuz jes’ like ’twuz dat mawnin’ when de sun riz up
over de low groun’, an’ I see ’im stan’in’ dyah wid de pistil in he
han’, lookin’ at it, an’ not knowin’ but what it mout be de lars’ time,
an’ he done mek up he mine not to shoot ole Cun’l Chahmb’lin fur Miss
Anne’s sake, what writ ’im de letter.
“He fol’ de letter wha’ was in his han’ up, an’ put it in he inside
pocket—right dyar on de lef’ side; an’ den he tole me he tho’t mebbe
we wuz gwine hev some warm wuk in de nex’ two or th’ee days, an’ arfter
dat ef Gord speared ’im he’d git a leave o’ absence fur a few days, an’
we’d go home.
“Well, dat night de orders come, an’ we all hed to git over to’ds
Romney; an’ we rid all night till ’bout light; an’ we halted right on
a little creek, an’ we stayed dyah till mos’ breakfas’ time, an’ I see
Marse Chan set down on de groun’ ’hine a bush an’ read dat letter over
an’ over. I watch ’im, an’ de battle wuz a-goin’ on, but we had orders
to stay ’hine de hill, an’ ev’y now an’ den de bullets would cut de
limbs o’ de trees right over us, an’ one o’ dem big shells what goes
’_Awhar—awhar—awhar!_’ would fall right ’mong us; but Marse Chan
he didn’ mine it no mo’n nuthin’! Den it ’peared to git closer an’
thicker, and Marse Chan he calls me, an’ I crep’ up, an’ he sez:
“‘Sam, we’se goin’ to win in dis battle, an’ den we’ll go home an’ git
married; an’ I’se goin’ home wid a star on my collar.’ An’ den he sez,
’Ef I’m wounded, kyar me home, yo’ hear?’ An’ I sez, ’Yes, Marse Chan.’
“Well, jes’ den dey blowed boots an’ saddles, an’ we mounted; an’ de
orders come to ride ’roun’ de slope, an’ Marse Chan’s comp’ny wuz de
secon’, an’ when we got ’roun’ dyah, we wuz right in it. Hit wuz de
wust place ever dis nigger got in. An’ dey said, ’Charge ’em!’ an’ my
king! ef ever you see bullets fly, dey did dat day. Hit wuz jes’ like
hail; an’ we wen’ down de slope (I ’long wid de res’) an’ up de hill
right to’ds de cannons, an’ de fire wuz so strong dyar (dey hed a whole
rigiment o’ infintrys layin’ down dyar onder de cannons) our lines
sort o’ broke an’ stop; de cun’l was kilt, an’ I b’lieve dey wuz jes’
’bout to bre’k all to pieces, when Marse Chan rid up an’ cotch hol’
de fleg an’ hollers, ’Foller me!’ an’ rid strainin’ up de hill ’mong
de cannons. I seen ’im when he went, de sorrel four good length ahead
o’ ev’y urr hoss, jes’ like he use’ to be in a fox-hunt, an’ de whole
rigiment right arfter ’im. Yo’ ain’ nuver hear thunder! Fust thing I
knowed, de roan roll’ head over heels an’ flung me up ’g’inst de bank,
like yo’ chuck a nubbin over ’g’inst de foot o’ de corn pile. An’ dat’s
what kep’ me from bein’ kilt, I ’spects. Judy she say she think ’twuz
Providence, but I think ’twuz de bank! O’ co’se, Providence put de bank
dyah, but how come Providence nuver saved Marse Chan? When I look’
’roun’, de roan wuz layin’ dyah by me, stone dead, wid a cannon-ball
gone ’mos’ th’oo him, an’ our men hed done swep’ dem on t’urr side from
de top o’ de hill. ’Twan’ mo’n a minit, de sorrel come gallupin’ back
wid his mane flyin’, an’ de rein hangin’ down on one side to his knee.
’Dyar!’ says I, ’fo’ Gord! I ’specks dey done kill Marse Chan, an’ I
promised to tek care on him.’
“I jumped up an’ run over de bank, an’ dyar, wid a whole lot o’ dead
men, an’ some not dead yit, onder one o’ de guns wid de fleg still in
he han’, an’ a bullet right th’oo he body, lay Marse Chan. I tu’n ’im
over an’ call ’im, ’Marse Chan!’ but ’twan’ no use, he wuz done gone
home, sho’ ‘nuff. I pick’ ’im up in my arms wid de fleg still in he
han’s, an’ toted ’im back jes’ like I did dat day when he wuz a baby,
an’ ole marster gin ’im to me in my arms, an’ sez he could trus’ me,
an’ tell me to tek keer on ’im long ez he lived. I kyar’d ’im ’way
off de battlefiel’ out de way o’ de balls, an’ I laid ’im down onder
a big tree till I could git somebody to ketch de sorrel for me. He
wuz cotched arfter a while, an’ I hed some money, so I got some pine
plank an’ made a coffin dat evenin’, an’ wrapt Marse Chan’s body up in
de fleg, an’ put ’im in de coffin; but I didn’ nail de top on strong,
’cause I knowed ole missis wan’ see ’im; an’ I got a’ ambulance an’
set out for home dat night. We reached dyar de nex’ evein’, arfter
travellin’ all dat night an’ all nex’ day.
“Hit ’peared like somethin’ hed tole ole missis we wuz comin’ so; for
when we got home she wuz waitin’ for us—done drest up in her best
Sunday-clo’es, an’ stan’n’ at de head o’ de big steps, an’ ole marster
settin’ in his big cheer—ez we druv up de hill to’ds de house, I
drivin’ de ambulance an’ de sorrel leadin’ ’long behine wid de stirrups
crost over de saddle.
“She come down to de gate to meet us. We took de coffin out de
ambulance an’ kyar’d it right into de big parlor wid de pictures in it,
whar dey use’ to dance in ole times when Marse Chan wuz a schoolboy,
an’ Miss Anne Chahmb’lin use’ to come over, an’ go wid ole missis into
her charmber an’ tek her things off. In dyar we laid de coffin on two
o’ de cheers, an’ ole missis nuver said a wud; she jes’ looked so ole
an’ white.
“When I had tell ’em all ’bout it, I tu’ned right ’roun’ an’ rid over
to Cun’l Chahmb’lin’s, ’cause I knowed dat wuz what Marse Chan he’d
’a’ wanted me to do. I didn’ tell nobody whar I wuz gwine, ’cause yo’
know none on ’em hadn’ nuver speak to Miss Anne, not sence de duil, an’
dey didn’ know ’bout de letter.
“When I rid up in de yard, dyar wuz Miss Anne a-stan’in’ on de poach
watchin’ me ez I rid up. I tied my hoss to de fence, an’ walked up de
parf. She knowed by de way I walked dyar wuz somethin’ de motter, an’
she wuz mighty pale. I drapt my cap down on de een’ o’ de steps an’
went up. She nuver opened her mouf; jes’ stan’ right still an’ keep her
eyes on my face. Fust, I couldn’ speak; den I cotch my voice, an’ I
say, ’Marse Chan, he done got he furlough.’
“Her face was mighty ashy, an’ she sort o’ shook, but she didn’ fall.
She tu’ned ’roun’ an’ said, ’Git me de ker’ige!’ Dat wuz all.
“When de ker’ige come ’roun’, she hed put on her bonnet, an’ wuz ready.
Ez she got in, she sey to me, ’Hev yo’ brought him home?’ an’ we drove
’long, I ridin’ behine.
“When we got home, she got out, an’ walked up de big walk—up to de
poach by herse’f. Ole missis hed done fin’ de letter in Marse Chan’s
pocket, wid de love in it, while I wuz ’way, an’ she wuz a-waitin’ on
de poach. Dey sey dat wuz de fust time ole missis cry when she find de
letter, an’ dat she sut’n’y did cry over it, pintedly.
“Well, seh, Miss Anne she walks right up de steps, mos’ up to ole
missis stan’in’ dyar on de poach, an’ jes’ falls right down mos’ to
her, on her knees fust, an’ den flat on her face right on de flo’,
ketchin’ at ole missis’ dress wid her two han’s—so.
“Ole missis stood for ’bout a minit lookin’ down at her, an’ den she
drapt down on de flo’ by her, an’ took her in bofe her arms.
“I couldn’ see, I wuz cryin’ so myse’f, an’ ev’ybody wuz cryin’. But
dey went in arfter a while in de parlor, an’ shet de do’; an’ I heahd
’em say, Miss Anne she tuk de coffin in her arms an’ kissed it, an’
kissed Marse Chan, an’ call ’im by his name, an’ her darlin’, an’ ole
missis lef’ her cryin’ in dyar tell some on ’em went in, an’ found her
done faint on de flo’.
“Judy (she’s my wife) she tell me she heah Miss Anne when she axed ole
missis mout she wear mo’nin’ fur ‘im. I don’ know how dat is; but when
we buried ‘im nex’ day, she wuz de one whar walked arfter de coffin,
holdin’ ole marster, an’ ole missis she walked next to ’em.