"'No, no, no!' said Aunt Sarah, shrinking back; 'I thought you loved him, gran'mammy, but you could come to my room and sing. Go away, I do not want you.' "'I'll go, Mis' Sarah, in one little minute. Love Mars' Allan! Why, wusn't my arms de fust ter hol' him--a little soft helpless innocent--even before you held him to yo' own mother's heart? An' from that very minnnit I loved him. I kin see him now, a little white-headed boy, always runnin' ter his ole granmammy fur turnovers an' ginger-cakes. Hevn't I watched him all through de years, growin' as straight an' tall as a young poplar, full of his jokes, but with never a mean streak in him, bless de Lord! An' den, Mis' Sarah, don't you mind how he looked in his grey uniform, wid de gold lace on his sleeves; an' how his eyes would kindle an' his voice ring out when he talked of de country he loved next ter God?' "'Gran'mammy! do you want to break my heart? Why do you torture me?' And Aunt Sarah burst into such wild, wild tears that I was frightened. "'Oh! my po' sweet mistis, I wants to _mend_ yo' heart, not break it;' and gran'mammy, too, burst into tears, kneeling now by Aunt Sarah, with her arms around her. 'I wants you to call ter mind jes' one thing--de commandment given by de Lord to his people, _given wid a promise_. Kin you say it over ter me?" "'Honor thy father and thy mother,' said Aunt Sarah, like one in a dream, 'and thy days shall be long in the land--' "'Stop dar, Mis' Sarah,--_stop at dat promise_,' almost shouted gran'mammy. 'Did Mars. Allan honor his father an' his mother?' "'Always! Always! He never disobeyed us in his life. No son could have been better or nobler.' "_And thy days shall be long in the land_," cried gran'mammy, 'which the Lord thy God giveth thee!' Now, Miss Sarah, jes _trust God_. He won't break dat promise.' "Words cannot do justice to the solemnity, the yearning tenderness, the pathetic earnestness, that made the dear old woman like one inspired. Wave after wave of feeling rolled over her face. I do not know how to express it, but a sacred, even a _religious_ rapture seemed to hold her in its possession. Strong feeling had exalted her, I felt as if I should like to steal in and pray beside her. She still knelt, but she kept her arms about the frail figure in the arm-chair. "Wild, vague suspicions were evidently forming in Aunt Sarah's mind. She looked at gran'mammy--a piteous, agonizing gaze. But gran'mammy's eyes met hers with steady joy. "'What do you mean?' she gasped huskily. 'In God's name, what do you mean?' "'I mean,--lean on me, dear, lean on me,--I mean dat if our blessed Lord wus on earth today, an' we could kneel at his feet askin' de life of our boy, he could not give it ter us. For Allan's grave has not been dug, an' Allan is livin' not dead today.' "'What have you heard?' "'A messenger has come.'