The first year of the war passed with comparatively little change at “White Point,” but towards the middle of the second year the trouble which had been brewing among the negroes for some time gave way to open rebellion; and had it not been for Sallie Tom’s wonderful and cunjuring influence over them, they would have left long before they did. Under Mrs. Tayloe’s and Dorothy’s oversight, much of the farming had been kept up; but towards the second harvesting it became evident that trouble was ahead. A negro agitator and so-called preacher had appeared in the village near by, and so great was the effect of his haranguing that the entire neighborhood was demoralized, and nightly meetings were held down at the cross-roads. Sallie Tom was constable-in-chief of the “White Point” contingent, and every night she stationed herself in the road usually taken by the servants and hands on their way to the meetings, a gun in one hand and a pistol in the other, ready to shoot the first one who passed. Every negro on the place believed in her cunjuring power, and they would no sooner have thought of passing than of trying to ride the moon. Things were beginning to look desperate. Even the loyal and good servants showed signs of dissatisfaction under the influence of the agitators, until finally only Dorothy’s old mammy Rachel, Jessie, the dining-room servant, Uncle Lias, the carriage driver, and Sallie Tom remained deaf to the promises of good fortune and prosperity advanced by the younger element. It was on a clear, bright October morning, that the result of all their meetings and plannings were realized. Mrs. Tayloe and Dorothy came down as usual, and found Sallie Tom and the three other servants drawn up in line outside the dining-room door. Sallie Tom was almost wild with excitement and anger. “They’re gone!” she cried, waving her hand violently in the direction of the quarters, her voice trembling and her whole body quivering. “They’re gone, every one of them—gone like thieves in the night. They have took all their things, and six of the horses, mos’ all the corn, and Gord A’mighty knows what else. Oh, Lordy!” she went on, “to think of all the trouble what’s come to us ’count of dat monstrous inturfurence bizness of them Yankees! To think I uver should er lived to see my missus done treated so by niggers! Oh, Lord A’mighty, what we gwine to do anyhow?” And Sallie Tom for the moment lost her courage in the face of the dread possibilities of the future. Mrs. Tayloe turned white to the lips, and Dorothy caught her hands and held them in her own strong, tender ones. “I suppose it had to come,” she said presently, nervously pressing Dorothy’s hands in her own. “I am thankful it is no worse. We must do the best we can, and not let the gentlemen know. Ah, no, we must not let the gentlemen know!” Her voice broke, and she hurried back to her room, and they left her there, for they knew it was best that she should be alone for awhile.