"Oh, if you can't let me out, don't leave me! Oh, don't leave me, Ann! I is so orful skeered. I do see such terrible sights, and it 'pears like when you is here talking, dem orful things don't come arter me." "You go, Ann, and watch with Aunt Polly's body; I will stay here with this poor creature." "What, you, young master; no, no, you shall not, it will kill you. Your cough will increase, and it might prove fatal. No, I will stay here." "But who will watch with Aunt Polly?" "I will awaken Amy, and make her keep guard." "No, she is too young, lacks nerve, will be frightened; besides, you must not be found here in the morning. You would be severely punished for it. Go now, good Ann, and leave me here." "No, young master, I cannot leave you to what I am sure will be certain death." "That would be no misfortune to me." And I shall never forget the calm and half-glorified expression of his face, as he pronounced these words. "Go, Ann," he continued, "leave me to watch and pray beside this forlorn creature, and, if the Angel of Death spreads his wings on this midnight blast, I think I should welcome him; for life, with its broken promises and its cold humanity, sickens me--oh so much." And his beautiful head fell languidly on his breast; and again I listened to that low, husky cough. To-night it had an unusual sound, and, forgetful of the humble relation in which I stood to him, I grasped his arm firmly but lovingly, saying, "Hark to that cough! Now you _must_ go in." "No, I cannot. I know best; besides, since nothing less gentle will do, I needs must use authority, and command you to go." "I would that you did not exercise your authority against yourself." But he waved me off. Reluctantly I obeyed him. Again I entered the cabin and roused Amy, who slept on a pallet or heap of straw at the foot of the bed, where the still, unbreathing form of my old friend lay. It was difficult to awake her, for she was always wearied at night, and slept with that deep soundness peculiar to healthful childhood; but, after various shakes, I contrived to make her open her eyes and speak to me. "Come Amy," I said, "rouse, I want you to help me." "In what way and what fur you wake me up?" she said as she sat upright on the straw, and began rubbing her eyes. "Never mind, but you get up and I will tell you." When she was fairly awake, she assisted me in lifting in a large tub of water. "Oh, is Aunt Polly any sicker?" she inquired. "Amy, she is dead." "Oh, Lord, den I ain't gwine to hope you, bekase I's afeared ob a dead body." "It can't harm you." "Yes it ken; anyhow, I is feared ob it, and I ain't gwine to hope you." "Well, you need not touch her, only sit up with me whilst I wash her and dress her nicely." "Well, I'll do dat much."