e gwine gib her a mule for her own sef and forty
acres ob groun'; so she dun gon' ter see 'bout hit." "Did any one else
go?" "Oh, yes, mistis, Uncle Albert and Aunt Alice dey go too, and dey
want we all to go 'long, but I's gwine ter wait untwill sees what Jack
got ter say, 'cause I ain't gwine _nowha_ dragging all dem chillum
along untwill I knows for sartin whar I's gwine ter stop." Sick at
heart, the lady turned away, slowly returning to the desolated house.
Her occupation was gone; order and system could not be restored. There
was nothing before the anxious woman but to watch and wait for news.
On the second day one of the negro men returned, bringing a tale
almost too horrible for belief,--Colonel M----, whose defiant bearing
had incensed his captors more and more, had been shot down for
refusing to obey orders. "Master was well, but looked mighty bad." The
man also brought the first news of the surrender, a rumor which all
refused to believe, although even the possibility filled all breasts
with terrible forebodings. _Could_ it be true? No! a thousand times
no! And yet,--oh, the dread, the anguish of waiting to know.

The bright sunlight, the waving trees, the joyous notes of the
feathered songsters seemed a mockery. Their stricken hearts cried out
to all the beautiful things of nature,--

"How can ye bloom so fresh and fair?
How can ye sing, ye little birds, and I so weary, fu' o' care?"

Towards evening on the third day of suspense the master returned fresh
from the prison, weary, ragged, dirty, and utterly woe-begone, for he
had been set at liberty only to learn that liberty was but an empty
sound. Sadly he confirmed the story of the surrender. The kindly eyes
still strove to cheer, but their happy light was forever quenched. The
firm lip quivered not as he told to the sorrowing women the woful
tale, but the iron had entered his soul and rankled there until its
fatal work was accomplished. Ah, many a noble spirit shrunk appalled
from the "frowning Providence" which then and long afterwards
_utterly_ hid the face of a merciful and loving Father. And yet, as
mother Nature with tender hands and loving care soon effaces all
traces of havoc and desolation, creating new beauties in lovely
profusion to cover even the saddest ruins, so it is wisely ordered
that time shall bring healing to wounded hearts. The women who on that
April evening long ago grieved so bitterly over the news of the
surrender have since kn