ell as brave, "you
had better come along with us, and we will take care of you till father
comes back--as I hope he will. Where is your mother?"

"Mother lib wid Massa Twigg--she call Martha," he answered.

"Oh, then I know her. She nurses the children. All right, Quashie.
Cheer up; you shall have something to eat as soon as we get back," said
Jack.

Quashie started up, and accompanied the young gentleman without further
questioning.

Glad as Mr Pemberton was to get his son and young friends back again,
he was made very anxious on hearing of the state of affairs at Bellevue.

"The rebels are evidently bent on taking the place, and from the
desperate character I hear of Cudjoe, I fear that he will not give up
the enterprise as long as he has a hope of success," said Mr Pemberton.

The matter was talked over by himself and the other planters. Before
any desperate enterprise was undertaken to afford relief to their
friends, it was important to ascertain how much they required it.

"I will try what can be done by means of Quashie, the boy Jack just now
brought in," said Mr Pemberton. "He would make his way where a man
would fail; and as his mother is a slave of the Twiggs, he can, I should
think, be trusted, for I will let him understand she will be benefited
as well as her master and mistress."

"A good idea, perhaps. Not that I fancy these slaves have any natural
affection," observed one of the party.

"I do not agree with you there, my friend," observed Mr Pemberton.
"Both fathers and mothers are very fond of their children in their way;
and I will answer for it that Quashie will manage to carry any message
we may send, and bring back an answer safely."

Quashie being called, he without hesitation undertook to do what was
required of him. He begged only that he might take his own time and
mode of proceeding, and grinned when some one remarked that he might be
caught by the rebels.

"Me git in and me come back, neber fear," he answered.

The only question was how to send a note. Mrs Pemberton proposed
writing what was necessary, and, the paper being rolled up tightly and
covered with black stuff, to conceal it among his thick crop of woolly
hair. "Were he caught, the rebels might search him thoroughly and not
discover it in the way that I will manage," she said.

Quashie was perfectly content with the proposal, and was evidently proud
of the confidence placed in him. He confessed that he had heard