mention occurred on the way, till about ten
o'clock, when we arrived at the home of the Yankee schoolmistress, where
we had been so hospitably entertained two days before. The lady received
us with great cordiality, forced upon us a lunch to serve our hunger on
the road, and when we parted, enjoined on me to leave the South at the
earliest possible moment. She was satisfied it would not for a much
longer time be safe quarters for a man professing Union sentiments.
Notwithstanding the strong manifestations of loyalty I had observed
among the people, I was convinced that the advice of my pretty
'countrywoman' was judicious, and I determined to be governed by it.

Our horses, unaccustomed to lengthy journeys, had not entirely recovered
from the fatigues of their previous travel, and we did not reach our
destination till an hour after dark. We were most cordially welcomed by
Madam P----, who soon set before us a hot supper, which, as we were
jaded by the long ride, and had fasted for twelve hours on bacon
sandwiches and cold hoe-cake, was the one thing needful for us.

While seated at the table, the Colonel asked:

'Has every thing gone right, Alice, since we left home?'

'Every thing,' replied the lady, 'except,' and she hesitated as if she
dreaded the effect of the news; 'except--that Juley and her child have
gone.'

'Gone!' exclaimed my host, 'gone where?'

'I don't know. We have searched every where, but have found no clue to
them. The morning you left, Sam set Juley at work among the pines; she
tried hard, but could not do a full task, and at night was taken to the
cabin to be whipped. I heard of it, and forbade Sam's doing it. It did
not seem to me to be right to punish her for not doing what she had not
strength to do. When she was released from the cabin, she came to thank
me for having interfered for her, and talked with me awhile. She cried
and took on fearfully about Sam, and was afraid you would punish her on
your return. I promised you would not, and when she left me, she seemed
more cheerful. I supposed she would go directly home, after getting her
child from the nurse's quarters; but it appears she then went to
Pompey's, where she staid till after ten o'clock. Neither she nor the
child have since been seen.'

'Did you get no trace of her in the morning?'

'Yes, but soon lost it. When she did not appear at work, Sam went to her
cabin to learn the cause, and found the door open, and her bed
undisturbe