"Oh, trust in the Lord, and He will protect you. Down the river can't be much worse than here, maybe not so bad. For my part, Lindy, I would rather be sold and run the risk of getting a good master, than remain here where we are treated worse than dogs." "Oh, dar isn't no sort ob hope ob my gitten any better home den dis here one; den I knows you all, and way off dar 'mong strange black folks, oh, no, I never can go; de Lord hab marcy on me." This begging of the poor negroes to the Lord to have mercy on them, though frequent, has no particular significance. It is more a plaint of agony than a cry for actual mercy; and, in Lindy's case, it most assuredly only expressed her grief, for she had no ripe faith in the power and willingness of Our Father to send mercy to her. Religion she believed consisted in going to church every Sunday twice; consequently it was a luxury, which, like all luxuries, must be monopolized by the whites. From the very depths of my heart I prayed that the light of Divine grace might shine in upon her darkened intellect. Soul of Faith, verily art thou soul of beauty! And though, as a special gift, faith is not withheld from the lowliest, the most ignorant, yet does its possession give to the poorest and most degraded Ethiopian a divine consciousness, an inspiration, that as to what is grandest in the soul exalts him above the noblest of poets. Whilst talking to Lindy, I was surprised to hear the muffled sound of an approaching footstep. Noiselessly I was trying to creep away, when young master said in a low voice: "Is this you, Ann? Wait a moment. Have you spoken to Lindy? Have you told her--" He did not finish the sentence, and I answered, "Yes, I have told her that she is to be sold, and to a trader." "Is she willing?" "No, sir, she has a great terror of down the river." "That is the way with them all, yet her condition, so far as treatment is concerned, may be bettered, certainly it cannot be made worse." "Will you speak to her, young Master, and reconcile her to her situation?" "Yes, I will do all I can." "And now I will go and stay with the corpse of dear Aunt Polly;" here I found it impossible to restrain my tears, and, convulsed with emotion, I seated myself upon the ground with my back against the door of the lock-up. "Dead? dead? Aunt Polly dead?" he asked in a bewildered tone. "Yes, young Master, I found her dead, and with every appearance of having had a severe struggle." I then told him about the leeching process, how the doctor had acted, &c. "Murdered! She was most cruelly murdered!" he murmured to himself. In the excitement of conversation he had elevated his tone a good deal, and the fearful news reached the ears of Lindy, and she shrieked out, "Is Aunt Polly dead? Oh, tell me, for I thinks I sees her sperit now." Then such entreaties as she made to get out were agonizing to hear.