--and Sam's wife burst into the open
space around the preacher, and fell at the old man's feet. Throwing her
arms wildly around him, she shrieked out:

'Say dat agin, Uncle Pomp! for de lub ob de good Lord, oh! say dat
agin!'

Bending down, the old man raised her gently in his arms, and folding her
there, as he would have folded a child, he said, in a voice thick with
emotion:

'It am so, Juley. I knows dat Sam will forgib you, and take you wid him
up dar.'

Fastening her arms frantically around Pompey's neck, the poor woman
burst into a paroxysm of grief, while the old man's tears fell in great
drops on her upturned face, and many a dark cheek near was wet, as with
rain.

The scene had lasted a few minutes, and I was turning away to hide the
emotion that was fast filling my eyes, and creeping up, with a choking
feeling, to my throat, when the Colonel, from the farther edge of the
group, called out:

'Take that d----d ---- away--take her away, Pomp!'

The old negro turned toward his master with a sad, grieved look, but
gave no heed to the words.

'Take her away, some of you, I say,' again cried the Colonel. 'Pomp, you
mustn't keep these niggers all night in the cold.'

At the sound of her master's voice the metif woman fell to the ground as
if struck by a Minie-ball. Soon several negroes lifted her up to bear
her away; but she struggled violently, and rent the woods with her wild
cries for 'one more look at Sam.'

'Look at him, you d----d ----, then go, and don't let me see you again.'

She threw herself on the face of the dead, and covered the cold lips
with her kisses; then rose, and with a weak, uncertain step, staggered
out into the darkness.

'The system' that had so seared and hardened that man's heart, must have
been begotten in the lowest hell.

The old preacher said no more, but four stout negro men stepped forward,
nailed down the lids, and lowered the rough boxes into the ground.
Turning to Madam P----, I saw her face was red with weeping. She rose to
go just as the first earth fell, with a dull, heavy sound, on the rude
coffins; and giving her my arm, I led her from the scene.

As we walked slowly back to the house, a low wail--half a chant, half a
dirge--rose from the black crowd, and floated off on the still night
air, till it died away amid the far woods, in a strange, wild moan. With
that sad, wild music in our ears, we entered the mansion.

As we seated ourselves by the bright wood-f