of his--Horry."

Watching Uncle 'Rasmus closely, I fancied that this information was not
new to him, and straightway fell awondering how it was that this old
negro who seldom strayed out of the stable-yard, let alone going away
from the plantation, should have an inkling of what might be done so far
away as the Sims place.

"Pierre has been to York Town, Uncle 'Rasmus, and he knows where Silver
Heels and Saul's mare are quartered."

"An' is dat all he knows, chile?"

"It strikes me that's finding out considerable in one day," and then I
explained how it was little Frenchie was able to move about York Town as
he had, after which Uncle 'Rasmus asked in a hopeful tone:

"Did he fin' out, chile, which ossifer was gwine to ride Silber Heels,
an' which one laid his mark on Saul's mare?"

As a matter of course Pierre could not give the information; but he
explained with great minuteness where the horses were stabled, and I was
impatient with him because of wasting so many words when it could do no
good.

Much to my surprise Uncle 'Rasmus drank it all in, and when little
Frenchie had come to an end of his overly long story the old negro said,
taking the straw from his mouth and holding it in the air as if to
ascertain from which direction came the wind:

"I reckon I'se 'bleeged to be goin', chillun. For an ole man like Uncle
'Rasmus it's quite a journey from here to de town ob York, an' ef I
counts on doin' it 'twixt now an' sunrise, I'd better get my ole legs
amovin'."

"York Town, Uncle 'Rasmus?" I cried in surprise, and well I might, for
within the past three years I had never seen the old negro go as far
from the house as the cotton fields.

"Dat's what I said, chile, an' I'se 'bleeged to be amovin'."

"But why are you going there, Uncle 'Rasmus?" I cried, catching him by
the arm to insure his attention, and he replied dreamily, but, as it
seemed to me, with a certain air of decision:

"I 'low it's time I was lookin' arter Marse Hamilton's house down
yander, whar ole Mary libed when he done set her free."

"There's no need of your looking after that old shanty, Uncle 'Rasmus,"
I cried. "Surely father gives no heed to it now; it isn't worth half a
dozen shillings, except for firewood."

"I know dat, honey; I'se done foun' all dat out, but sumfin's tellin' me
dat it's time I was lookin' arter Marse Hamilton's property what's been
lef dere in de town ob York, whar de Britishers am rampagin' an' rarin'
'roun'