master took me
aside one morning--told me he was going to Selma in Dallas County, and
wished me to be in readiness on his return the next day, to start for
Virginia. This was to me cheering news. I spent that day and the next
among my old fellow servants who had lived with me in Virginia. Some of
them had messages to send by me to their friends and acquaintances. In
the afternoon of the second day after my master's departure, I
distributed, among them all the money which I had about me, viz.,
fifteen dollars. I noticed that the overseer Huckstep laughed at this
and called me a fool: and that whenever I spoke of going home with my
master, his countenance indicated something between a smile and a sneer.

Night came; but contrary to his promise, my master did not come. I still
however expected him the next day. But another night came, and he had
not returned. I grew uneasy, and inquired of Huckstep where be thought
my master was.

"On his way to Old Virginia," said he, with a malicious laugh.

"But," said I. "Master George told me that he should come back and take
me with him to Virginia."

"Well, boy," said the overseer, "I'll now tell ye what master George, as
you call him, told me. You are to stay here and act as driver of the
field hands. That was the order. So you may as well submit to it
at once."

I stood silent and horror-struck. Could it be that the man whom I had
served faithfully from our mutual boyhood, whose slightest wish had been
my law, to serve whom I would have laid down my life, while I had
confidence in his integrity--could it be that he had so cruelly and
wickedly deceived me? I looked at the overseer. He stood laughing at me
in my agony.

"Master George gave you no such orders," I exclaimed, maddened by the
overseer's look and manner.

The overseer looked at me with a fiendish grin. "None of your
insolence," said he, with a dreadful oath. "I never saw a Virginia
nigger that I couldn't manage, proud as they are. Your master has left
you in my hands, and you must obey my orders. If you don't, why I shall
have to make you '_hug the widow there_,'" pointing to a tree, to which I
afterwards found the slaves were tied when they were whipped.

That night was one of sleepless agony. Virginia--the hills and the
streams of my birth-place; the kind and hospitable home; the
gentle-hearted sisters, sweetening with their sympathy the sorrows of
the slave--my wife--my children--all that had thus far made u