When we were all bonneted, trunks corded down, and bundles tied up, waiting, in the shed-room, for the order to get in the omnibus, Uncle Pete suddenly spied the basket which Judy, in her insensibility, had left. Picking it up, I saw the tears glitter in his eyes when the two bright buttons rolled out on the floor. "These puttys," he muttered to himself, "was fur de boys. Poor fellows! Now dey won't have any keepsake from dar daddy; and den here's de little cedar whistle; oh, I wish I could send it out to 'em." Looking round the room he saw Kitty, the mulatto woman, of whom I have before spoken as the mistress of Atkins. "Oh, please, Kitty, will you have dis basket, dis whistle, and dese putty buttons, sent out to Mr. John Jones', to my ole 'ooman Judy?' "Yes," answered the woman, "I will." "Thankee mam, and you'll very much oblige me." "Come 'long with you all. The omnibus is ready," cried out Atkins, and we all took up the line of march for the door, each pausing to say good-bye to Kitty, and yet none caring much for her, as she had not been agreeable to us. "Going down the river, really," I said to myself. "Wait a minnit," said Atkins, and calling to a sort of foreman, who did his roughest work, he bade him handcuff us. How fiercely-proud looked the face of Charles, as they fastened the manacles on his wrists. I made no complaint, nor offered resistance. My heart was maddened. I almost blamed Louise, and chided Henry for not forcing my deliverance. I could have broken the handcuffs, so strongly was I possessed by an unnatural power. "Git in the 'bus," said the foreman, as he riveted on the last handcuff. Just as I had taken my seat in the omnibus, Henry came frantically rushing up. The great beads of perspiration stood upon his brow; and his thick, hard breathing, was frightful. Sinking down upon the ground, all he could say was, "Ann! Ann!" I rose and stood erect in the omnibus, looking at him, but dared not move one step toward him. "What is the matter with that nigger?" inquired Atkins, pointing toward Henry. Then addressing the driver, he bade him drive down to the wharf. "Stop! stop!" exclaimed Henry; "in Heaven's name stop, Mr. Atkins, here's a gentleman coming to buy Ann. Wait a moment." Just then a tall, grave-looking man, apparently past forty, walked up. "Who the d----l is that?" gruffly asked Mr. Atkins. "It is Mr. Moodwell," Henry replied. "He has come to buy Ann." "Who said that I wanted to sell her?" "You would let her go for a fair price, wouldn't you?" "No, but I would part with her for a first-rate one." Just then, as hope began to relume my soul, Mr. Moodwell approached Atkins, saying, "I wish to buy a yellow girl of you." "Which one?" "A girl by the name of Ann. Where is she?" "Don't you know her by sight?" "Certainly not, for I have never seen her." "You don't want to buy without first seeing her?" "I take her upon strong recommendation."