at a stand-still.

As a matter of course, my father was not at home, he being with the
American army somewhere in the North, and I wondered much that Dalton,
the overseer, had not set matters straight, for many hours had elapsed
since the visit of the red-coated thieves.

Uncle 'Rasmus was the only one among the slaves or the servants who
appeared to have regained possession of his senses, and he was sitting
in the stable-yard as I had seen him almost every day of my life when
the sun was shining, meditatively chewing a straw and looking straight
ahead as if he could see in the distance that which was not visible to
other eyes.

The old fellow was apparently unmoved by the bustle and confusion
everywhere around him, and I, certain of finding in him a sympathizer,
went to speak with him even before visiting my mother.

"Are all the horses gone, Uncle 'Rasmus?" I asked, seating myself by his
side, while Saul and Pierre followed my example.

"All de saddle hosses, chile. De Britishers done took ebery las' hoof
dat was wuff takin'."

"And Silver Heels with them," I said in a tearful voice.

"Yes, chile, Silber Heels is wid de res'. I kind'er 'lowed it was gwine
ter break your heart, honey, but dere was nuffin' ole 'Rasmus could do
to stop it, kase it seemed like dis yere stable-yard was plum full ob
red-coats, all ob 'em swearin' an' laughin', till it seemed like dey was
jes' achin' to 'buse some ob us niggers scandalous, an' I 'low dey
would, ef we'd giben 'em de least little word ob back talk."

"Do you know who sent them here, Uncle 'Rasmus?" Saul asked suddenly,
and the old negro nodded his head as he replied:

"I'se done gone hab my 'spicions, chile. Dere's plenty ob plantations
nearer de town ob York dan dis yere, an' yet 'cordin' to what I heard de
sogermen say, dey haben't been anywhere else yet. So I was 'lowin' dat
some ob de folks 'roun' here, dem as claim to hab a mighty big love for
us, set 'em on."

"Can't you guess who it was, Uncle 'Rasmus?" Saul continued, and the
old man replied in a dreamy tone:

"I done hab my 'spicions; but in dese yere times when you don' know
who's your friend more'n half de time, dere ain' any sense in talkin'
right out what you'se tinkin'. I'se 'lowin' I can guess who set de
red-coats aflame."

"You couldn't guess in a week," Saul interrupted, "because you're
thinking it might be some one of the planters, like Master Sims, instead
of which it was that worthless son