ght at first I would go crazy, but my poor mammy did all she
could to comfort me. She would tell me there were as good fish in the
sea as were ever caught out of it. Many a time I've laid my poor head on
her lap, when it seemed as if my brain was on fire and my heart was
almost ready to burst. But in course of time I got over the worst of
it; an' Mirandy is the first an' last woman that ever fooled me. But
that dear old mammy of mine, I mean to stick by her as long as there is
a piece of her. I can't go over to the army an' leave her behind, for if
I did, an' anything should happen, I would never forgive myself."

"But couldn't you take her with you," said Robert, "the soldiers said we
could bring our women."

"It isn't that. The Union army is several miles from here, an' my poor
mammy is so skeery that, if I were trying to get her away and any of
them Secesh would overtake us, an' begin to question us, she would get
skeered almost to death, an' break down an' begin to cry, an' then the
fat would be in the fire. So, while I love freedom more than a child
loves its mother's milk, I've made up my mind to stay on the plantation.
I wish, from the bottom of my heart, I could go. But I can't take her
along with me, an' I don't want to be free and leave her behind in
slavery. I was only five years old when my master and, as I believe,
father, sold us both here to this lower country, an' we've been here
ever since. It's no use talking, I won't leave her to be run over by
everybody."

A few evenings after this interview, the Union soldiers entered the town
of C----, and established their headquarters near the home of Thomas
Anderson.

Out of the little company, almost every one deserted to the Union army,
leaving Uncle Daniel faithful to his trust, and Ben Tunnel hushing his
heart's deep aspirations for freedom in a passionate devotion to his
timid and affectionate mother.

CHAPTER IV.

ARRIVAL OF THE UNION ARMY.

A few evenings before the stampede of Robert and his friends to the
army, and as he sat alone in his room reading the latest news from the
paper he had secreted, he heard a cautious tread and a low tap at his
window. He opened the door quietly and whispered:--

"Anything new, Tom?"

"Yes."

"What is it? Come in."

"Well, I'se done bin seen dem Yankees, an' dere ain't a bit of troof in
dem stories I'se bin yerin 'bout 'em."

"Where did you see 'em?"

"Down in de woods whar Marster tole us to hi