s I was ordered, wondering all the way why I was placed in such
an undesirable position--a Northerner plotting, as it were, against my
own people. I cared little about the war at that time, for I knew
nothing of war or its toll.

"However, I reached the outer buildings where the slaves lived and my
news acted like an electric current upon the inmates. Immediately they
ran in different directions, seemingly bent upon doing a part of a work
that had been carefully planned and arranged. I found out later, that
such was the case. The older slaves, who were trusted implicitly, set
to work burying (as I supposed) whatever fruit, vegetables, smoked
meats, and other edibles they could find--in fact, everything stored in
cellars or store-rooms.

"I was curious to see how they could prevent the articles from coming in
contact with the soil, and found that a chain of bricked cellars had
been built a short time before, and the bushes and weeds carefully
replaced on the dirt that covered the roofs. A door, opening into the
first of the chain of cellars, was made in a steep bank of earth. It was
merely a large hole in the ground covered with a flat stone that turned
upon a pivot. About this spot the soil and grass had been very cleverly
arranged to conceal any sign of what lay beneath.

"By afternoon not a piece of extra linen, bedding, or silver could be
found about the house. The jewelry, valuable bits of art and pictures,
heirlooms and a valuable library, had disappeared as if by magic. I knew
it had all been placed in some safe place and felt relieved at the
knowledge.

"I wandered about feeling lonesome for Rebecca and wishing I might
assist Tim who seemed busy in some undertaking. I watched him tie down
a canvas covering over a loaded cart and caught his glance, which seemed
to beckon me. I walked over to the mule's side and patted its head while
Tim spoke.

"'Miss Becky, she say you'se come wif me. I'se got'ter take dis load
down to der paddock!' Tim looked about as he spoke and winked at me
knowingly.

"I walked beside him as he drove the mule along the lane. The cart
seemed laden and the mule walked slowly, but we reached the wall that
divided the gardens from the farm, and then Tim made the beast go as
fast as possible, all the while looking covertly about for a run-away
negro or a Yankee scout.

"I suspected where we were going, and, sure enough! As we reached the
woods by the lane, Rebecca called softly, 'No furt