o fall into the
hands of Captain Semmes, who, as commander of the _Sumter_, unfurled the
Confederate flag on the high seas, June 30, 1861. But, as we shall
presently see, the _Sabine_ did not "stay captured." She escaped, and
brought the prize crew that Semmes had thrown aboard of her into a
Northern port as prisoners.

"There aint no secesh out on the watah, is there, Marse Marcy?"
exclaimed Morris.

"I'm afraid there will be some there before long. We're going to have
war, Morris. I saw by a paper I bought on the train to-day that
President Lincoln has called out seventy-five thousand men."

"Shucks!" cried the negro. "That aint half enough men. The secesh done
got a hundred thousand already."

"I think myself that he might as well have mustered in half a million
while he was about it. But the thing that rather surprises me is that he
should call upon the border States for troops," said Marcy, pulling from
his pocket the paper of which he had spoken. "Of course he'll not get
them. Hear what the Governor of this State says: 'Your dispatch is
received; and if genuine, which its extraordinary character leads me to
doubt, I have to say in reply that I regard the levy of troops made by
the administration for the purpose of subjugating the States of the
South, as in violation of the Constitution, and a usurpation of power. I
can be no party to this wicked violation of the laws of the country, and
in this war upon the liberties of a free people. You can get no troops
from North Carolina.'"

"Marse Linkum oughter hang that man," exclaimed Morris wrathfully.

"That's what I say. He's a pretty fellow to talk about violating the
Constitution when South Carolina has already violated it by levying war
against the United States. The Southern folks seem to have little sense
and less consistency. But don't let's waste any more time on politics.
How are everything and everybody at home? Is my schooner all right, and
has Bose got over the drubbing that big coon gave him last fall? How
many of the boys have run away?"

"Now, just listen at _you_," exclaimed Morris. "Who going to run away
from the Missus, and where he going to run to?"

"To the Yankees, of course. This war will make you black ones all
free."

"Aw! Go on now, Marse Marcy."

"I really believe it. You darkies are the cause of all this fuss, and
you will have to be killed off or made free before we can be a united
people again."

The coachman's inimitable laug