oin, looked at it tenderly.

"Po' little fellow! God bless him! he give me this that fus' time he
come home from school. I never 'spected to part with it, but ef it's
de Lord's will, it may help him now."

With these thoughts, Mammy quickly replaced the things in her chest,
put the coin into her pocket, and, taking up the man's hat, which upon
week days she always wore, she strode off towards the mill.

As she passed by the piazza, she paused one moment irresolute, but
murmuring to herself, "'T ain't no use upsettin' Mistis, po' cretur,
and I can do it better by myself anyhow," she walked briskly forward,
revolving in her mind her plan.

The mill house consisted of two rooms, and in the one in which Jim had
reported Sedley to be confined there was a small trap-door. It had
been used for regulating the working of the machinery, and led from
beneath the house directly to the creek, which ran close to the walls
of the house. This trap Mammy had once happened to see opened, and in
that way knew of its existence, otherwise she would never have
suspected it, as, from its infrequent use, it was usually covered with
dust and dirt and could not be distinguished from the rest of the
floor. Her plan was to endeavor to get speech with Sedley, tell him of
the trap-door, and leave the rest to him. Her great fear had been that
she might be refused admittance to him, and hence it was that she had
thought of her gold piece, as she hoped by its potent influence to be
given a few minutes alone with the prisoner.

There would be no great difficulty for Sedley to lift the trap without
noise and, when it was lifted, to swing himself through to the ground,
to creep until he came to the thick tangle upon the creek banks, then
to swim across and escape into the shelter of the woods beyond. That
would be simple enough, and Mammy, full of hopeful thoughts, was
walking briskly forward, when suddenly a turn in the path brought
into view a small body of Federals, all mounted, and evidently coming
from the direction of the mill. They seemed in haste, and she could
hear the rattle of their sabres as they cantered by.

Standing amid the broom-sedge, Mammy watched them, casting eager,
anxious looks upon them, fearing, dreading to see her boy in their
midst, a poor, defenseless captive. Finally, as the last horseman
disappeared, she heaved a sigh of infinite relief. "Bless de good
Lord, dey ain't took de po' chile wid 'em," and so went on her way.