“Gideon,” said his master, pointing to his uniform, “you know what this means?”

“Yes, suh.”

“I wish I could take you along with me.  But—­”

“Mas’ Dud,” Gideon threw out his arms in supplication.

“You remember father’s charge to you, take care of the women-folks.”  He took the servant’s hand, and, black man and white, they looked into each other’s eyes, and the compact was made.  Then Gideon gulped and said “Yes, suh” again.

Another boy held the master’s horse and rode away behind him when he vaulted into the saddle, and the man of battle-song and warrior name went back to mind the women-folks.

Then began the disintegration of the plantation’s population.  First Yellow Bob slipped away, and no one pursued him.  A few blamed him, but they soon followed as the year rolled away.  More were missing every time a Union camp lay near, and great tales were told of the chances for young negroes who would go as body-servants to the Yankee officers.  Gideon heard all and was silent.

Then as the time of his marriage drew near he felt a greater strength, for there was one who would be with him to help him keep his promise and his faith.

The spirit of freedom had grown strong in Martha as the days passed, and when her lover went to see her she had strange things to say.  Was he going to stay?  Was he going to be a slave when freedom and a livelihood lay right within his grasp?  Would he keep her a slave?  Yes, he would do it all—­all.

She asked him to wait.

Another year began, and one day they brought Dudley Stone home to lay beside his father.  Then most of the remaining negroes went.  There was no master now.  The two bereaved women wept, and Gideon forgot that he wore the garb of manhood and wept with them.

Martha came to him.

“Gidjon,” she said, “I’s waited a long while now.  Mos’ eve’ybody else is gone.  Ain’t you goin’?”

“No.”

“But, Gidjon, I wants to be free.  I know how good dey’ve been to us; but, oh, I wants to own myse’f.  They’re talkin’ ‘bout settin’ us free every hour.”

“I can wait.”

“They’s a camp right near here.”

“I promised.”

“The of’cers wants body-servants, Gidjon—­”

“Go, Martha, if you want to, but I stay.”

She went away from him, but she or some one else got word to young Captain Jack Griswold of the near camp that there was an excellent servant on the plantation who only needed a little persuading, and he came up to see him.

“Look here,” he said, “I want a body-servant.  I’ll give you ten dollars a month.”

“I’ve got to stay here.”

“But, you fool, what have you to gain by staying here?”

“I’m goin’ to stay.”

“Why, you’ll be free in a little while, anyway.”

“All right.”

“Of all fools,” said the Captain.  “I’ll give you fifteen dollars.”