a small
cart, which he said was the best conveyance he could procure. The
jolting over hillocks, and the occasional grunts of the mule, made it
an amusing ride; but it was a fruitless one. The plantation negroes
were sowing cotton, but all Mr. Fitzgerald's household servants were
leased out in Savannah during his absence in Europe. The white villa
at Magnolia Lawn peeped out from its green surroundings; but the
jalousies were closed, and the tracks on the carriage-road were
obliterated by rains.

Hiring a negro to go with them to take back the cart, they made the
best of their way to the boat, which was waiting for them. Fatigued
and disconsolate with their fruitless search, they felt little
inclined to talk as they glided over the bright waters. The negro
boatmen frequently broke in upon the silence with some simple, wild
melody, which they sang in perfect unison, dipping their oars in
rhythm. When Savannah came in sight, they urged the boat faster,
and, improvising words to suit the occasion, they sang in brisker
strains:--

"Row, darkies, row!
See de sun down dar am creepin';
Row, darkies, row!
Hab white ladies in yer keepin';
Row, darkies, row!"

With the business they had on hand, Mrs. Delano preferred not to seek
her friends in the city, and they took lodgings at a hotel. Early the
next morning, Mr. Jacobs was sent out to ascertain the whereabouts of
Mr. Fitzgerald's servants; and Mrs. Delano proposed that, during his
absence, they should drive to The Pines, which she described as an
extremely pleasant ride. Flora assented, with the indifference of a
preoccupied mind. But scarcely had the horses stepped on the thick
carpet of pine foliage with which the ground was strewn, when she
eagerly exclaimed, "Tom! Tom!" A black man, mounted on the seat of a
carriage that was passing them, reined in his horses and stopped.

"Keep quiet, my dear," whispered Mrs. Delano to her companion, "till I
can ascertain who is in the carriage."

"Are you Mr. Fitzgerald's Tom?" she inquired.

"Yes, Missis," replied the negro, touching his hat.

She beckoned him to come and open her carriage-door, and, speaking in
a low voice, she said: "I want to ask you about a Spanish lady who
used to live in a cottage, not far from Mr. Fitzgerald's plantation.
She had a black servant named Tulee, who used to call her Missy Rosy.
We went to the cottage yesterday, and found it shut up. Can you tell
us where they have gone?"