To the faint, half-dying Hugh that familiar voice from home and that dusky form bending over him so pityingly, seemed more like a dream than a reality. He could not comprehend how Sam came there, or what he was saying to him. Something he heard of ole Miss and Snow-down, and Washington; but nothing was real until he caught the name of _Alice_, and thought Sam said she was there. “Where, Sam—where?” he asked, trying to raise himself upon his elbow. “Is Alice here, did you say?” “No, massah; not ’zactly here—but on de road. If massah could ride, Sam hold him on, like massah oncet held on ole Sam, and we’ll get to her directly. They’s kind o’ Secesh folks whar she is, but mighty good to her. She knowed ’em ’fore, ’case way down here is whar Sam was sold dat time Miss Ellis comed and show him de road to _Can’an_. Miss Ellis tell me somethin’ nice for Massah Hugh, ef he’s dyin’—suffin make him so glad. Is you dyin’, massah?” “I hardly think I am as bad as that. Can’t you tell unless I am near to death?” Hugh said; and Sam replied, “No, massah; dem’s my orders. ‘Ef he’s dyin’, Sam tell him I’—dat’s what she say. Maybe you _is_ dyin’, massah. Feel and see!” “It’s possible,” and something like his old mischievous smile played round Hugh’s white lips as he asked how a chap felt when he was dying. “I’se got mizzable mem’ry, and I don’t justly ’member,” was Sam’s answer; “but I reckons he feel berry queer and choky—berry.” “That’s exactly my case, so you may venture to tell,” Hugh said; and getting his face close to that of the young man, Sam whispered “She say, ‘Tell massah Hugh—I—I’—you’s _sure_ you’s dyin’?” “I’m sure I feel as you said I must,” Hugh replied, and Sam went on. “‘Tell him I loves him; and ef he lives I’ll be his wife.’ Dem’s her very words, nigh as I can ’member—but what is massah goin’ to do” he continued, in some surprise, as Hugh attempted to rise. “Do, I’m going to Alice,” was Hugh’s reply, as with a moan he sank back again, too weak to rise alone. “Then you be’nt dyin’, after all,” was Sam’s rueful comment, as he suggested, “Ef massah only clamber onto Rocket.” This was easier proposed than done, but after several trials Hugh succeeded; and, with Sam steadying him while he half lay on Rocket’s neck, he proceeded slowly and safely through the woods, meeting at last with some Unionists, who gave him what aid they could, and did not leave him until they saw him safely deposited in an ambulance, which, in spite of his entreaties, took him direct to Georgetown. It was a bitter disappointment to Hugh, so bitter, indeed, that he scarcely felt the pain when his broken arm was set; and when, at last, he was left alone in his narrow hospital bed, he turned his face to the wall, and cried, just as many a poor, homesick soldier had done before him, and will do again. * * * * *