Shall I ever forget the despairing look of Charley? How passionately he compressed his lips! I went up to him, and, laying my hand on his arm, said, "Let us be strong to meet the trouble that is sent us!" He looked at me, but made no reply. I thought there was the wildness of insanity in his glance, and turned away. It was now eight o'clock, and I had not heard from Henry or Louise. Alas! my heart misgave me. I had been buoyed up for some time by the flatteries and delusions of Hope! but now I felt that I had nothing to sustain me; the last plank had sunk! I did not pretend to "get myself ready," as Mr. Atkins had directed; the fact is, I was ready. The few articles of wearing apparel that I called mine were all in my trunk, with some little presents that Henry had made me, such as a brooch, earrings, &c. These were safely locked, and the key hung round my neck. But the others were busy "getting ready." I was standing near the door, anxiously hoping to see either Henry or Louise, when an old negro woman, thinly clad, without any bonnet on her head, and with a basket in her hand, came up to me, saying, "Please mam, is my ole man in here? De massa out here say I may speak 'long wid him, and say farwell;" and she wiped her eyes with the corner of an old torn check apron. I was much touched, and asked her the name of her old man. "Pete, mam." "Oh, yes, he is within," and I stepped aside to let her pass through the door. She went hobbling along, making her passage through the crowd, and I followed after. In a few moments Pete saw her. "Oh dear! oh dear!" he cried out, "Judy is come;" and running up to her, he embraced her most affectionately. "Yes," she said, "I begged Masser to let me come and see you. It was long time before he told me dat you was sole to a trader and gwine down de ribber. Oh, Lord! it 'pears like I ken never git usin to it! Dars no way for me ever to hear from you. You kan't write, neither ken I. Oh, what shill we do?" "I doesn't know, Judy, we's in de hands ob de Lord. We mus' trus' to Him. Maybe He'll save us. Keep on prayin', Judy." The old man's voice grew very feeble, as he asked, "An de chillen, de boys, how is dey?" "Oh, dey is well. Sammy wanted to come long 'wid me; but it was too fur for him to walk. Joe gib me dis, and say, take it to daddy from me." She looked in her basket, and drew out a little painted cedar whistle. The tears rolled down the old man's cheeks as he took it, and, looking at it, he shook his head mournfully, "Poor boy, dis is what I give him fur a Christmas gift, an' he sot a great store to it. Only played wid it of Sundays and holidays. No, take it back to him, an' tell him to play wid it, and never forget his poor ole daddy dat's sole 'way down de ribber!" Here he fairly broke down, and, bursting into tears, wept aloud. "Oh, God hab bin marciful to me in lettin' me see you, Judy, once agin! an' I am an ongrateful sinner not to bar up better." Judy was weeping violently.