Through the streets, up one and across another, we went, until suddenly we stopped in front of a two-story brick house with an iron fence in front. Covering a small portion of the front view of the main building, an office had been erected, a plain, uncarpeted room, from the door of which projected a sheet-iron sign, advertising to the passers-by, "negroes bought and sold here." We walked into this room, and upon the table found a small bell, which Mr. Summerville rang. In answer to this, a neatly-dressed negro boy appeared. To Master William's interrogatory, "Is Mr. Atkins in?" he answered, most obsequiously, that he was, and instantly withdrew. In a few moments the door opened, and a heavy man about five feet ten inches entered. He was of a most forbidding appearance; a tan-colored complexion, with very black hair and whiskers, and mean, watery, milky, diseased-looking eyes. He limped as he walked, one leg being shorter than the other, and carried a huge stick to assist his ambulations. "Good morning, Mr. Atkins." "Good morning, sir." "Here is the girl we were speaking of yesterday." "Well," replied the other, as he removed a lighted cigar from his mouth, "she is likely enough. Take off yer bonnet, girl, let me look at yer eyes. They are good; open your mouth--no decayed teeth--all sound; hold up your 'coat, legs are good, some marks on 'em--now the back--pretty much and badly scarred. Well, what's the damage?" "Seven hundred, cash down. You can recommend her as a first-rate house and lady's maid." "What's your name, girl?" "Ann," I replied. "Ann, go within," he added, pointing to the door through which he had entered. I turned to Mr. Summerville, saying, "Good-bye, Master William. I wish you well." "Good-bye, Ann," and he extended his hand to me; "I hope Mr. Atkins will get you a good home." Dropping a courtesy and a tear, I passed through the door designated by Mr. Atkins, and stood within the pen. Here I was met by the mulatto who had answered the bell. "Has you bin bought, Miss?" "Yes, Mr. Atkins just bought me." "Why did your Masser sell you?" "I don't know." "Oh, that's what the most of 'em says. It 'pears so quare ter me for a Masser to sell good sarvants; but I guess you'll soon git a home; fur you is 'bout the likeliest yaller gal I ever seed. Now, thim rale black 'uns hardly ever goes off here. We has to send 'em down river, or let 'em go at a mighty low price." "How often do you have sales?" "Oh, we don't have 'em at all. That's we don't have public 'uns. We sells 'em privately like; but we buys up more; and when we gits a large number, we ships 'em down de river." Wishing to cut short his garrulity, I asked him to show me the room where I was to stay.