not see her again. He would send her word next morning
to ask that he might, and he feared what the result of that word would
be. Several times his longing eyes saw her shadow pass the curtain, and
when her light was out, he closed his eyes and sat motionless--how long
he hardly knew; but, when he sprang down, he was stiffened from the
midnight chill and his unchanged posture. He went back to his room
then, and wrote Margaret a letter and tore it up and went to bed. There
was little sleep for him that night, and when the glimmer of morning
brightened at his window, he rose listlessly, dipped his hot head in a
bowl of water and stole out to the barn. His little mare whinnied a
welcome as he opened the barn door. He patted her on the neck.

"Good-by, little girl," he said. He started to call her by name and
stopped. Margaret had named the beautiful creature "Dixie." The
servants were stirring.

"Good-mawnin', Mars Chad," said each, and with each he shook hands,
saying simply that he was going away that morning. Only old Tom asked
him a question.

"Foh Gawd, Mars Chad," said the old fellow, "old Mars Buford can't git
along widout you. You gwine to come back soon?"

"I don't know, Uncle Tom," said Chad, sadly.

"Whar you gwine, Mars Chad?"

"Into the army."

"De ahmy?" The old man smiled. "You gwine to fight de Yankees?"

"I'm going to fight WITH the Yankees."

The old driver looked as though he could not have heard aright.

"You foolin' this ole nigger, Mars Chad, ain't you?"

Chad shook his head, and the old man straightened himself a bit.

"I'se sorry to heah it, suh," he said, with dignity, and he turned to
his work.

Miss Lucy was not feeling well that morning and did not come down to
breakfast. The boy was so pale and haggard that the Major looked at him
anxiously.

"What's the matter with you, Chad? Are you--?"

"I didn't sleep very well last night, Major."

The Major chuckled. "I reckon you ain't gettin' enough sleep these
days. I reckon I wouldn't, either, if I were in your place."

Chad did not answer. After breakfast he sat with the Major on the porch
in the fresh, sunny air. The Major smoked his pipe, taking the stem out
of his mouth now and then to shout some order as a servant passed under
his eye.

"What's the news, Chad?"

"Mr. Crittenden is back."

"What did old Lincoln say?"

"That Camp Dick Robinson was formed for Kentuckians by Kentuckians, and
he did not believe that it was