"Who gave you that cut, Sam?" I asked, bending over him and gently removing his hand from the gash. "Get some water, quick!" I continued to the men, but Barron had already started for the boat, where he found a bailer, and returned in a moment with it full of water. In a few moments Sam felt better, and I immediately set to work to dress his wound. "Who cut you?" I asked again, for I saw he hesitated about telling me. I soon had a bandage in place, and then I repeated the question. "Marse Berk," he finally whispered, and as he did so Will leaned over him to catch the words. "He an' that Captain were here--Marse Berk--he wanted Miss Mary to go off alone with him on the schooner--an' he took her--she wanted to wait for old missus an' she cried--I came--so he killed me." "But mother and Miss Carter, Sam, quick; where are they?" I asked, frantically. "Dunno, Marse Dick. I'se been here sence yesterday--I ain't seen no one--they all must be gone somewheres, too." "Carry him to the Hall," I said to the soldiers, and then Will and I started on a run towards the house. On reaching the front door we found it shut fast, but Will burst the fastening of a window on the verandah and sprang into the dining room, and I followed at his heels. I bawled out my mother's name, and Will cried out for my sister, but our voices echoed through an empty house. There was not even a slave there. We quickly went through the rooms upstairs, and then through the pantries and kitchens in the rear, without finding a single house servant. Then we started for the slave quarters to see if anyone had remained there, but not even a single pickaninny was in sight. Everywhere there were traces of hurried preparations for departure. Clothes were scattered about the floors, and in the servants' dining room the evening meal lay untouched upon the table. We went outside and looked about the court, and then went to the stables. We had only been through the empty stalls on the lower floor, when we saw two of my niggers coming on a run through the field to the northward. They had seen us and had come from hiding places, and in a few minutes they were with us and seizing our hands, thanking us for coming back again. Then Mr. Johnson came up with his men, carrying Sam on a litter made of their crossed muskets, and Barron showed them the way to a couch in the slave quarters. My two field hands, who were telling me what had happened, were ready to run at the sight of the soldiers, but I bade them be still and tell their story.