“Yes, madam, I _have_ ‘tested his skill and probity,’ and know so well the degree of the former, and the quality of the latter, that I have already forbid him to set foot on my premises or speak to my wife. Do you dare to think that I am your dupe, or his? And now, hear me: In all the directions that I have given you, I have simply desired or requested you to do this or that, but in this matter of your perfidious brother Carl, I _command_ you to hold no intercourse with him whatever.” “You shall be obeyed,” said Catherine, “you shall be obeyed,” and she thought—“Your simplest wish, expressed to that effect, would have had all the power of this arbitrary command,”—but she did not say it. She was never free of speech, least of all to him. And now he arose, as if to conclude the interview. And she recollected her promise to Henny, to intercede for Jack, and always more courageous in the cause of any, even the humblest, than in her own, she gently detained him, by saying—“I wished to speak to you about the servant you intend to take with you.” “Jack?” “Yes. You were not home last winter, and you do not know that he was sick with a cough the whole winter, and that he is consumptive.” “I have sometimes thought so, however! Well?” “Indeed I feel that it is properly no business of mine, and I beg you will excuse my interference. I would not willingly, I am sure—” “To the point, if you please, Mrs. Clifton.” “Well, I am afraid that if you take him, and expose him to the unavoidable hardships of campaign life, he will fall sick on your hands, and instead of being a help, be a hindrance. Therefore it is much more for your sake than for the boy’s own, that I should be pleased if you would leave him here and take another.” “There is much reason in what you have advanced, Mrs. Clifton. Yet, among all the negroes on the place, there is none but Jack who seems fit for the duty, the others are all too young or too old, or too hopelessly stupid and lumbering.” “There is Dandy, a handsome, likely mulatto, strong and intelligent, dressy and enterprising, the very man for an officer’s servant; he would be very proud and glad to attend you.” “Oh! ay! I know that he is anxious to go; but he is your carriage-driver and waiter, Catherine, and I cannot think of depriving you of him.” “There are other careful drivers on the place. Please take him with you.” “Yes—but those other careful drivers are awkward, ill-looking, farm-laborers, accustomed to driving and hallooing after ox-teams.” “Have I been so long used to a carriage, as to be choice in my coachman, then? Please do not think of that.” “And then he is your waiter and messenger.” “Oh, believe me, I do not need him. Pray take him with you. He is so active, intelligent and faithful, that he will be of inestimable value to you in the campaign.”