This was said not seriously, but to test Sam's sincerity.
"I don't want to go back, sah. Wouldn't go back no how if I could help it; rather go a thousand miles away up Norf than go down Souf, sah. They knock me about down there. Massa whipped me last week, for talking with de other niggers about de war. O massa, don't send me back again! I'll do anything for you, massa."
He was the picture of anguish, and stood wringing his hands while the tears rolled down his cheeks. Freedom, with all its imagined blessings, was before him; slavery, with all its certain horrors, behind him.
The General questioned him about the Rebels.
"They say they will whip you Yankees. Dere's right smart chance of 'em at Fairfax, General Bonham in command. Souf Carolina is kinder mad at you Yankees. But now dey is kinder waiting for you to come, though they be packing up their trunks, as if getting ready to move."
All of his stories corroborated previous intelligence, and his information was of value.
"Well, Sam, I won't send you back," said the General. "You may go where you please about the camp."
"De Lord God Almighty bless you, sah!" was the joyful exclamation. There was no happier man in the world than Sam Allston that night. He had found that which his soul most longed for,—Freedom!
