The gang halted at night, put up their tents, lighted fires and cooked their mean repast. Then they stretched themselves on the bare ground to sleep. In the morning, after the wretched breakfast was eaten, the tents were struck, the wagons loaded again, and they started for another day's travel,--and so on till the long, wearisome march was over. It took them many weeks before they arrived at their destination. There Tidy was soon resold, the trader making two hundred dollars by the bargain, and she became the property of Mr. Turner, who took her to Natchez, on the Mississippi River, where she became waiting-maid to Mrs. Turner, his wife. The poor girl was never the same in appearance after she left her Virginia home. A deep pall seemed to have been thrown over her spirit, and her hopes and happiness lay buried beneath it. Her disposition had lost its buoyancy, and her face wore a sad, pensive look. She tried to do her duty here as before, and her skill and neatness made her a favorite. But there was no one here to care for her and love her as Mammy Grace had done; and she missed the children sadly. Her hymn-book was neglected; for when she opened it such a flood of recollections came over her that the tears blinded her eyes and she could not see a word, and she never now heard a prayer. She was again in an irreligious family, and among an ungodly set of servants, and her faith, hope, and love began to grow dim. A dull, heavy manner, and a careless, reckless state of mind was growing upon her. It required deeper sorrow than she had yet experienced to wake her up from this sluggish, unhappy condition. CHAPTER XIV. CRUELTY. SHE was standing one beautiful evening at the front gate of the house, leaning on the rail, and gazing listlessly up the street. She was thinking, perhaps, of that starry night when first she had heard of the name of God, or that other, when her faith had been so wonderfully built up in listening to the striking experiences and prayer of the memorable Lony. Perhaps she had wandered farther back to the time, when, under old Rosa's protection, she had fed the chickens and watered the flowers at Rosevale with childish content. Whatever it was, the tears would come, and several times she raised her hand and dashed them away. Then she turned her head and gazed the other way.