an' stayed out all night, away from her chile. An' I had to hold dat chile all night an' to feed it. When Mary got home she could hardly walk, an' she is lame in dat ankle to dis day in cloudy weather. Mary tole me dat dese men were goin' to whip her de nex' day, an' she say, 'Mammy, dey shall not whip me. I will run away before dey do dat.'
"Then God did something. I know that he did it.
"Young Mars Edward heard dat pistol go off dat was aimed at Mary, an' he an' his body-servant, William, come back home. An' dey stayed in de house dat night. I say, 'Mary, de young marster is here. He will protect us. Go straight to him; to no one else. Tell him all about it.' She went to him, an' de nex' day Mr.—— was sent off. G-od did it, I know.
"I always shall believe dat Mr.—— was one sent to 'seek out.'* He was not fightin' wid our people, who was so kind to him."†
My father had been troubled by the conflicting duties to his children and to his servants.
When he heard that mammy's last good boy, Major, had run away to escape being killed by these men, he said, "Harriet, I ought to have died ten years ago."
His faithful servant burst into tears at these words of her master.
CHAPTER XX.
THE CROWN OF POVERTY.
And now a great blow fell on Thomas Dabney. Shortly before the war he had been asked by a trusted friend to put his name as security on some papers for a good many thousand dollars. At the time he was assured that his name would only be wanted to tide over a crisis of two weeks, and that he would never hear of the papers again. It was a trap set, and his unsuspi--
.* A spy
† His entertainers at Burleigh.
