“Den a whole year went by. Sometimes letters ud come an’ sometimes word ud reach us in one way an’ another. Den old Miss tuck down sick, an’ Miss Grace kept all de bad news from ’er ’bout de war. Den come a letter from Marse Eddie hisse’f. He writ dat he is a little wounded in de arm an’ dat he got a furlough to come home an’ will be wid us as soon as he kin git thoo de lines. But de time went by, day in, day out fur a week an’ no mo’ news ’cep’ old Marster writ dat de boy is done put out fur home some time back; so dar we is—old Marster say he ain’t in de war, an’ he ain’t got to we-all. “While we-all in dis fix an’ worriment, de Yankee army des swoop down on us lake a swarm o’ grass-hoppers. Dar wasn’t a single Rebel ’cep’ women folks an’ me anywhars around. Den we know dat Marse Eddie is cut off fum us. While de Yankees is camped round us as thick as fleas, a old man come to us, he did, an’ said he’d met up wid Marse Eddie one day up in de mountains what you kin see over dar, an’ ’at he was mighty nigh starved to death an’ unable to git stuff to eat. “Marse Eddie tol’ de man ’at he’d started home on his furlough but was tuck down sick at a house on de way, an’ when he got so he could travel an’ come nigh home de Yankees done s’round us so he earn’t git home nur back to his regiment nuther. So he was des obleeged to stay hidin’ out in de woods like a wild animal. Dis news got, to ol’ Miss, an’ it made her wuss an’ we ’lowed she gwine die sho’. “One night I woke up kase I heerd somebody walkin’ on de porch, an’ when I went to de do’ dar is young Miss standin’ dar lookin’ to’ds de Yankee camp what you could see fum de’r fires dey kept burnin’ so we couldn’t slip up on um an’ throttle um in de’r sleep. “‘Don’t tell mother, Ham’ she say; ‘po’ thing, she’s very sick, an’ we mustn’t ’sturb ’er. I carn’t sleep wid all dis on my mind. How do we know, Ham, but my po’ brother may be dis minute in gre’t danger? I must keep watch kase I know in reason he’ll try to pass thoo de lines some night to get to we-all’s, an’, Ham, somebody must be up to receive ’im an’ hide ’im less’n dey catch ’im an’ try to kill ’im.’ “She was alraidy a-cryin’, an’ I didn’t have de heart to tell ’er how dangersome it was to try to pass guards on picket duty, kase I had heerd ’bout one po’ feller gittin’ daylight let thoo ’im while he was tryin’ to do it on his all-fours. “It was as still, suh, dat night as a graveyard. De wind wasn’t blowin’ ’nough to move a blade o’ wavy grass. An’ all of a sudden I heerd a sound way down de road like somebody’s feet—pit-pat, pit-pat, comin’ nigher an’ nigher. Den we heer somebody a-pantin’ mighty nigh out’n breath. “Young Miss laid ’er han’ on ’er breast an’ breathed hard. De sound kept gittin’ closer an’ closer tell all at once somebody sprung over de fence into de yard. My Gawd, it was Marse Eddie, an’ no dead white pusson could look paler’n he did an’ so thin an’ raggety.