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Finally the trips into town budded into something, and on a memorable evening when the sun looked peacefully through the pines, young Dudley Stone rode into the yard dressed in a suit of gray, and on his shoulders were the straps of office. The servants gathered around him with a sort of awe and followed him until he alighted at the porch. Only Mam’ Henry, who had been nurse to both him and his sister, dared follow him in. It was a sad scene within, but such a one as any Southern home where there were sons might have shown that awful year. The mother tried to be brave, but her old hands shook, and her tears fell upon her son’s brown head, tears of grief at parting, but through which shone the fire of a noble pride. The young Ellen hung about his neck with sobs and caresses.

“Would you have me stay?” he asked her.

“No! no! I know where your place is, but oh, my brother!”

“Ellen,” said the mother in a trembling voice, “you are the sister of a soldier now.”

The girl dried her tears and drew herself up. “We won’t burden your heart, Dudley, with our tears, but we will weight you down with our love and prayers.”

It was not so easy with Mam’ Henry. Without protest, she took him to her bosom and rocked to and fro, wailing “My baby! my baby!” and the tears that fell from the young man’s eyes upon her grey old head cost his manhood nothing.

Gideon was behind the door when his master called him. His sleeve was traveling down from his eyes as he emerged.

“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.