MY LADY OF THE SOUTH
git to dis house. Why was it we not hab any light burning? 'Cause de Yankees done took all de oil, an' we ain't got no more to burn. Lor'! we ain't seen no manner o' light in dis yere house for most free weeks. We's jist felt our way 'round. I's bin in de dark so much I done got cat eyes, an' dat's how dis nigger done knowed you jist now. It am Massa Calvert, Massa George, an', shuar as you're alive, he was goin' right by de house, if I had n't a-stopped him—nebber even knowed he was yere yet."
Young Denslow, the dim outline of his figure that of a mere stripling, but standing rather stiffly erect, held out his hand.
"Glad you succeeded in making it, Calvert. We were becoming afraid you might not get away owing to the sudden advance of the troops. Is it true we have started on a movement by the left flank?"
"Yes, that report is all true enough," I replied striving to hold my voice as low as possible, as I could recall no marked peculiarity in the tones of my late antagonist to imitate; "the aides are riding in every direction with orders for a forced march. I went in and saw General Johnston as soon as I first heard the rumor, and explained to him exactly the situation here. The old man was very sympathetic, and as he had already met Jean, he arranged to send me out in this direction with his orders, and gave me a furlough of twenty-four hours in which to attend to my own affairs. I am to be in Minersville at the expiration of that time, no matter what it may cost in horse-flesh."
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