"'Be a friend to her, Louise; I know that she will need much kindness to sustain her. Thank Miss Nancy for all her kindness; tell her that I blest her before I went. Tell Ann to stay with her, and oh, Louise'--here he wrung his hands in agony--'tell Ann not to grieve for me; but she mustn't forget me. Poor, wretched outcast that I am, I have loved her well! After awhile, when time has softened this blow, she must try to love and be happy with---- No, no, I'll not ask that; only bid her not be wretched;--but give me pen and ink, I'll write just one word to her.' "I gave him the ink, pen and paper, and he wrote this." As Louise drew a soiled, blotted paper from her bosom, I eagerly snatched it and read: "Ann, dearest, Louise will tell you all. Our dream is broken forever! I _am sold_; but I shall be a slave _no more_. Forgive me for what I am going to do. Madness has driven me to it! I love you, even in death I love you. Say farewell to Miss Nancy--I _am gone_!" I read it over twice slowly. One scalding tear, large and round, fell upon it! I know not where it came from, for my eyes were dry as a parched leaf. The note dropped from my hands, almost unnoticed by me. Biddy picked it up, and handed it to Miss Nancy, who read it and fainted. I moved about mechanically; assisted in restoring Miss Nancy to consciousness; chafed her hands and temples; and, when she came to, and burst into a flood of tears, I soothed her and urged that she would not weep or distress herself. "I wonder that the earth don't open and swallow them," cried the weeping Biddy. "Hush, Biddy, hush!" I urged. "They ought to be hung!" "'Vengeance is mine, and I will repay, saith the Lord,'" I replied. "Oh, Ann, you are crazy!" she uttered. And so, in truth, I was. That granite-like composure was a species of insanity. I comprehended nothing that was going on around me. I was in a sort of sleep-waking state, when I asked Louise if she thought they would bury him decently; and gave her a bunch of flowers to place in the coffin.