"Now, missy, what could Tenny do? A pore ole nigger can't do nuffin nohow. S'pose I did fin' her, what's I gwine ter do 'bout it? I couldn't buy her. 'Sides, ef dey cot an ole 'ooman a foolin' roun' dat didn't seem ter 'long ter nobody dey lock me up, suah. Mebbe dey'd whip me. An', chile, once you had de whip ter yer back you doesn't want it no mo'. No; I'se gwine ter stay right with Massa Cap'n. He's a good marster, an' he'll take good keer ob Tenny." Jeanne sat silently thinking over what she had heard. Her heart ached for the helpless mother and she chafed at her inability to aid her. The darkness of the great slavery evil fell upon her spirit. Was this the land of the free and the home of the brave? she mused. How could she ever sing "The Star Spangled Banner" again so long as it waved over a country a portion of whose inhabitants groaned under a yoke of bondage! "'Spect I ortern't ter hab tole yer dis, chile," said Tenny, becoming alarmed at her silence. "A nigga's trubbles nuffin nohow. Done you bodder yer purty haid ober it. I'se sorry I tole yer." "I am glad, Tenny, but I do feel so sorry for you. I wish I could help you. If I knew where the man was that bought your child I'd buy her back and give her to you. Then if Captain Leathers would set you free you could both go North and nobody could ever separate you again." "Bress yer good haht, honey!" exclaimed Tenny, clapping her hands. "I wish I knowed his name. He wus an horsifer. I heerd dem call him Kuhnel." "And don't you remember his name?" "No, missy; I doesn't. Nebber heerd him called nuffin but Kuhnel nohow. Wait a minnit! Chile, chile, 'pears ter me I did hyar it. Lemme think. My ole haid no 'count no mo'." She placed her hands to her head and looked with troubled eyes at Jeanne. "Why can't I 'member? 'Twuzn't Massa Benson? No; 'twuzn't. Think, nigga! Why done yer 'zert yersef? Nebber did hab no sense nohow." Thus she rambled on, muttering to herself until presently she sprang to her feet exclaiming: "I'se got it, missy. 'Twuz Kuhnel Peyton. Massa Kuhnel Peyton! I 'members it now 'zactly. Massa Kuhnel Peyton! Dat's it. Dat's it." "Colonel Peyton!" said Jeanne. "I'll remember that name, Tenny. How much do you suppose the Colonel would want for her?" "'Bout a tousand dollahs, I reckon," answered Tenny. "A thousand dollars," echoed Jeanne in dismay. "Oh, Tenny, I haven't near that much. I didn't suppose that it would be so much as that." "Niggas wuth heaps ob money," said Tenny proudly. "My gal wuz smaht, I tell yer. Dat's why she brung so much. Can't you buy her, missy? Tenny'll lub yer all yer life ef yer will." "I'll write to my father," decided Jeanne. "I'll get him to buy her for me. He will know just what to do, and you shall have your child again, Tenny, I'll promise you that."