"Brother Robert, what is yours?"
"As she came from among the flowers," he said, "I think Flora would do very well."
"Yes," added Mary, "and very pretty names all Frank, what is yours?"
"Anna," said he, "I would like to talk to her sometimes, and to make believe that she was Sister Anna."
"That would sound almost too much like Nannie," Mary objected, and then asked, "Did you say, brother, that you gave her to me?" He replied, "Yes." "Then," she added, "I will call her Dora, for I heard father say that that name means a gift."
"Dora let it be," said Robert, patting its delicate head. "Miss Dora, I wish you a speedy cure, and a pleasant captivity."
About nine o'clock Sam awakened from a refreshing sleep, and the anxious company assembled at his side to hear what he had to tell about home. "I a'nt got much to tell," said Sam, "I lef so soon a'ter you all, dat you know most all sept what happen to me and Riley on de way."
"Let us hear it all," said Robert.
"But before you begin," interrupted Mary, "do tell us about William. Was he drowned or not?"
(For the sake of the reader who may not be familiar with the lingo of southern and sea-coast negroes, the narrative will be given in somewhat better English, retaining, however, the peculiarities of thought and drapery.)