sell the place, and all the
servants, except her own personal property, and these she intended to
take with her, and go back to her father's plantation.

"Do ye know, Tom, that we've all got to be sold?" said Adolph, and go
back to her father's plantation.

"How did you hear that?" said Tom.

"I hid myself behind the curtains when Missis was talking with the
lawyer. In a few days we shall be sent off to auction, Tom."

"The Lord's will be done!" said Tom, folding his arms and sighing
heavily.

"We'll never get another such a master," said Adolph, apprehensively;
"but I'd rather be sold than take my chance under Missis."

Tom turned away; his heart was full. The hope of liberty, the thought
of distant wife and children, rose up before his patient soul, as to the
mariner shipwrecked almost in port rises the vision of the church-spire
and loving roofs of his native village, seen over the top of some black
wave only for one last farewell. He drew his arms tightly over his
bosom, and choked back the bitter tears, and tried to pray. The poor old
soul had such a singular, unaccountable prejudice in favor of liberty,
that it was a hard wrench for him; and the more he said, "Thy will be
done," the worse he felt.

He sought Miss Ophelia, who, ever since Eva's death, had treated him
with marked and respectful kindness.

"Miss Feely," he said, "Mas'r St. Clare promised me my freedom. He told
me that he had begun to take it out for me; and now, perhaps, if Miss
Feely would be good enough to speak bout it to Missis, she would feel
like goin' on with it, was it as Mas'r St. Clare's wish."

"I'll speak for you, Tom, and do my best," said Miss Ophelia; "but, if
it depends on Mrs. St. Clare, I can't hope much for you;--nevertheless,
I will try."

This incident occurred a few days after that of Rosa, while Miss Ophelia
was busied in preparations to return north.

Seriously reflecting within herself, she considered that perhaps she had
shown too hasty a warmth of language in her former interview with Marie;
and she resolved that she would now endeavor to moderate her zeal, and
to be as conciliatory as possible. So the good soul gathered herself
up, and, taking her knitting, resolved to go into Marie's room, be as
agreeable as possible, and negotiate Tom's case with all the diplomatic
skill of which she was mistress.

She found Marie reclining at length upon a lounge, supporting herself
on one elbow by pillows, while Jane, wh