And with his cannon he did see to it. We were aroused before the break of day, and by the time the sun came up we were in the thick of a fight. There came a charge--a wild rush, sword, pistol, bayonet--and when it had swept past, I was on the ground beside the man whose fortunes I had followed. He was desperately wounded. The farm-house was turned into a hospital and I took him to the room which we had occupied the night before. The weak remnant of our army was crushed. We were prisoners. The hour was late. Precaution no longer was necessary and camp-fires were burning everywhere. A surgeon told me that Master could not live until morning. And this was to be his end, in an old house, a prisoner, the hungry dogs howling on the hill. "Dan," he called. I was bending over him, my face close to his. "Are you here, Dan?" "Yes, Mars. Bob." "It's all over, Dan. And I don't see how it could have been otherwise. I seem to have been born for this hour. Dan, I want to be buried where I fell. And tell them not to disturb me, but to let me sleep there. Bury her letters with me. Tell the old man that I love him." Early in the morning, with the tears falling upon him, I folded his arms on his breast; and I heard a glad shout and the cry that the war was done. From an officer in command, once a neighbor, I obtained permission to bury my poor Master under an apple-tree shading the spot where he had fallen; and assisted by an old negro, I laid him to rest. My heart was so heavy that I cared not what might become of me. Judgment day had come and I was branded a sinner. I built a fire near the grave and watched beside it a whole night, wretched, struggling with myself, feeling that I could not leave him lying there alone. In the morning I was ordered to mount a mule and drive a wagon into Richmond. As I drove along I scribbled a note to Old Master, not knowing how long I might be held, and gave it to a neighbor to give to him. Now I was in the service of the North, driving a team of mules into the city that I had striven to defend. But I liked it not. I was heart-sore to hear the babble of our creek and to look upon the colts in the pasture. And after two days of enforced labor I was permitted to turn my face homeward. I was now even worse off than the regular rebel soldier. I was looked upon with suspicion. I had no means of transportation and therefore was compelled to walk. I slept in the woods or on the road-side. Once when I went up to a house to buy food, an old man set his dog after me. My money gave out (I had started with but a few dollars, the amount earned by driving the government wagon) and now I was reduced almost to starvation. The country was destitute. Everyone looked to the army for food, and supplies were delayed. At last, after days of tramping and nights of sleepless hunger, I crossed the Kentucky line. Two more days and I should be at home.