will write you a letter to carry. Samson, I
am going to be married to-night to the rose of Princess Anne."

"Dar's on'y one," said Samson. "Not Miss Vesty Custis?"

"Yes, Samson. Princess Anne may now have something to howl at. The poor
girl may be lonesome, as, no doubt, she will be dropped everywhere on my
account, and not a soul can I think of, to be my young lady's maid,
unless it is Rhody."

"Yes, Marster, wid all your money you're pore in friends; in
women-friends you is starved."

"You may go with me to the church," said Meshach, "I suppose you want to
see me married."

"Yes, sir. Dat I do! Wouldn't miss dat fo' my Christmas gift. I 'spect
dat gal Virgie will come wid Miss Vesty to de cer'mony, marster."

"Perhaps so. You are not thinking of love, too, Samson?"

"Well, don't know, marster. Virgie's a fine gal, sho' I am a little old,
Marster Milburn, but I'll have to look out for myseff, I 'spec, now you
done burnt down my spreein' place. Dar's a wife comin' in yar now. So if
you don't speak a good word fur me wid some o' Miss Vesty's gals, I'm
aboot done."

"Well, boy," Meshach said, "you have got the same chance I had: the
upper hand. I owe you a nice little sum in wages, and you may be able to
buy one of the Custis housemaids, and set her free, and marry her, or,
be her owner. You are a free man."

Samson shook his head gravely.

"Dat won't do among niggers," he said. "Niggers never kin play de upper
hand in love, like white people. Dey has to do it by love itseff: by
kindness, marster."

Before nine o'clock Milburn and his negro left the old store by the town
bridge, and passing by the river lane called Front Street, into Church
Street, walked back of the hotel, avoiding its triflers, and reached the
church in a few minutes unobserved. The long windows shed some light,
however, but as it was Saturday night, this was attributed, by the few
who noticed it, to preparations for the next Sabbath morning. Before
setting out, Samson Hat, observing his employer to shake a trifle, asked
him if a dram of whiskey would not be proper.

"No, boy; this is a wedding without wine. I shall need all my wits to
find my manners."

He entered the church, and found it warmed, and the minister already
present in his surplice, kneeling alone at the altar. Mr. Tilghman
arose, with his youthful face very pale, and tears upon his cheeks, and
seeing his neglected parishioner and the serving-man, came down the
aisle.