“Try me, mist’ess dear, an’ see ef I doesn’t.”
“And I think you love your master?”
“Ah! my Lor’! Try me—jes on’y try me, mist’ess—dat’s all.”
“I wish you to go to him from me.”
“Oh! do—do—do—do sen’ me, mist’ess! It’s war I longs for to be.”
“I shall. The distance is over a hundred miles. You must pick the best horse in the stable, and start within an hour, and ride day and night until you reach your destination.”
“’Deed, mist’ess, I won’t let de grass grow onnerneaf of my feet.”
“Very well, then, go now—have you had your breakfast?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Go now, then, and prepare for your journey, while I write you a pass. And when you are quite ready, come to me, and I will give you farther directions about your journey.”