“I ‘clar, marster, I didn’ know ’twuz Marse Chan’s voice tell I look at ‘im right good.  Well, she wouldn’ let ’im go wid her.  She jes’ wrap’ her cloak ‘roun’ her shoulders, an’ wen’ ’long back by herse’f, widout doin’ more’n jes’ look up once at Marse Chan leanin’ dyah ‘g’inst de gate-pos’ in he sodger clo’s, wid he eyes on de groun’.  She said ‘Good-bye’ sort o’ sorf, an’ Marse Chan, widout lookin’ up, shake han’s wid her, an’ she wuz done gone down de road.  Soon ez she got ‘mos’ ‘roun’ de curve, Marse Chan he followed her, keepin’ under de trees so ez not to be seen, an’ I led de hosses on down de road behine ‘im.  He kep’ ’long behine her tell she wuz safe in de house, an’ den he come an’ got on he hoss, an’ we all come home.

“Nex’ mawnin’ we all come off to j’ine de army.  An’ dey wuz a-drillin’ an’ a-drillin’ all ‘bout for a while, an’ dey went ’long wid all de res’ o’ de army, an’ I went wid Marse Chan an’ clean he boots, an’ look arfter de tent, an’ tek keer o’ him an’ de hosses.  An’ Marse Chan, he wan’ a bit like he use’ to be.  He wuz so solumn an’ moanful all de time, at leas’ ‘cep’ when dyah wuz gwine to be a fight.  Den he’d peartin’ up, an’ he alwuz rode at de head o’ de company, ‘cause he wuz tall; an’ hit wan’ on’y in battles whar all his company wuz dat he went, but he use’ to volunteer whenever de cun’l wanted anybody to fine out anythin’, an’ ’twuz so dangersome he didn’ like to mek one man go no sooner’n anurr, yo’ know, an’ ax’d who’d volunteer.  He ‘peared to like to go prowlin’ aroun’ ‘mong dem Yankees, an’ he use’ to tek me wid ’im whenever he could.  Yes, seh, he sut’n’y waz a good sodger!  He didn’ mine bullets no more’n he did so many draps o’ rain.  But I use’ to be pow’ful skeered sometimes.  It jes’ use’ to ’pear like fun to ’im.  In camp he use’ to be so sorrerful he’d hardly open he mouf.  You’d ‘a’ tho’t he wuz seekin’, he used to look so moanful; but jes’ le’ ‘im git into danger, an’ he use’ to be like ole times—­jolly an’ laughin’ like when he wuz a boy.

“When Cap’n Gordon got he leg shot off, dey mek Marse Chan cap’n on de spot, ‘cause one o’ de lieutenants got kilt de same day, an’ turr one (named Mr. Ronny) wan’ no ‘count, an’ de company said Marse Chan wuz de man.

“An’ Marse Chan he wuz jes’ de same.  He didn’ never mention Miss Anne’s name, but I knowed he wuz thinkin’ on her constant.  One night he wuz settin’ by de fire in camp, an’ Mr. Ronny—­he wuz de secon’ lieutenant—­got to talkin’ ‘bout ladies, an’ he say all sorts o’ things ’bout ’em, an’ I see Marse Chan kinder lookin’ mad; an’ de lieutenant mention Miss Anne’s name.  He had been courtin’ Miss Anne ’bout de time Marse Chan fit de duil wid her pa, an’ Miss Anne hed kicked ’im, dough he wuz mighty rich, ’cause he warn’ nuthin’ but a half-strainer, an’ ’cause she like Marse Chan, I believe, dough she didn’ speak to ‘im; an’ Mr. Ronny he got drunk, an’ ’cause Cun’l Chahmb’lin tole ’im not to come dyah no more, he got mighty