“Dat night at supper he laugh an’ talk, an’ he set at de table a long time.  Arfter ole marster went to bed, he went in de charmber an’ set on de bed by ‘im talkin’ to ‘im an’ tellin’ ’im ’bout de meetin’ an’ ev’ything; but he nuver mention ole Cun’l Chahmb’lin’s name.  When he got up to come out to de office in de yard, whar he slept, he stooped down an’ kissed ‘im jes’ like he wuz a baby layin’ dyar in de bed, an’ he’d hardly let ole missis go at all.  I knowed some’n wuz up, an’ nex’ mawnin’ I called ‘im early befo’ light, like he tole me, an’ he dressed an’ come out pres’n’y jes’ like he wuz goin’ to church.  I had de hosses ready, an’ we went out de back way to’ds de river.  Ez we rode along, he said: 

“‘Sam, you an’ I wuz boys togedder, wa’n’t we?’

“‘Yes,’ sez I, ‘Marse Chan, dat we wuz.’

“‘You have been we’y faithful to me,’ sez he, ‘an’ I have seen to it that you are well provided fur.  You want to marry Judy, I know, an’ you’ll be able to buy her ef you want to.’

“Den he tole me he wuz goin’ to fight a duil, an’ in case he should git shot, he had set me free an’ giv’ me nuif to tek keer o’ me an’ my wife ez long ez we lived.  He said he’d like me to stay an’ tek keer o’ ole marster an’ ole missis ez long ez dey lived, an’ he said it wouldn’ be very long, he reckoned.  Dat wuz de on’y time he voice broke when he said dat; an’ I couldn’ speak a wud, my th’oat choked me so.

“When we come to de river, we tu’ned right up de bank, an’ arfter ridin’ ’bout a mile or sich a matter, we stopped whar dey wuz a little clearin’ wid elder bushes on one side an’ two big gum-trees on de urr, an’ de sky wuz all red, an’ de water down to’ds whar the sun wuz comin’ wuz jes’ like de sky.

“Pres’n’y Mr. Gordon he come, wid a ’hogany box ’bout so big ’fore ‘im, an’ he got down, an’ Marse Chan tole me to tek all de hosses an’ go ‘roun’ behine de bushes whar I tell you ’bout-off to one side; an’ ’fore I got ‘roun’ dar, ole Cun’l Chahmb’lin an’ Mr. Hennin an’ Dr. Call come ridin’ from t’urr way, to’ds ole Cun’l Chahmb’lin’s.  When dey hed tied dey hosses, de urr gent’mens went up to whar Mr. Gordon wuz, an’ arfter some chattin’ Mr. Hennin step’ off ’bout fur ez ’cross dis road, or mebbe it mout be a little furder; an’ den I seed ’em th’oo de bushes loadin’ de pistils, an’ talk a little while; an’ den Marse Chan an’ ole Cun’l Chahmb’lin walked up wid de pistils in dey han’s, an’ Marse Chan he stood wid his face right to’ds de sun.  I seen it shine on him jes’ ez it come up over de low groun’s, an’ he look like he did sometimes when he come out of church.  I wuz so skeered I couldn’ say nothin’.  Ole Cun’l Chahmb’lin could shoot fust rate, an’ Marse Chan he never missed.

“Den I beared Mr. Gordon say, ‘Gent’mens, is yo’ ready?’ and bofe of ’em sez, ‘Ready,’ jes’ so.

“An’ he sez, ‘Fire, one, two’—­an’ ez he said ‘one,’ old Cun’l Chahmb’lin raised he pistil an’ shot right at Marse Chan.  De ball went th’oo his hat.  I seen he hat sort o’ settle on he head ez de bullit hit it, an’ he jes’ tilted his pistil up in de a’r an’ shot-bang; an’ ez de pistil went bang, he sez to Cun’l Chahmb’lin, ‘I mek you a present to yo’ fam’ly, seh!’