“Well, what did you do?” asked Lawyer Terrell.
“Who? Me? Well, suh, I des crope off ter my cabin, en I draw’d up a cheer front er de fier, en stirred up de embers, en sot dar. I ain’ sot dar long ’fo’ Marster come ter de do’. He open it, he did, en he come in. He ’low, ‘You in dar, Ananias?’ I say, ‘Yasser.’ Den he come in. He stood dar, he did, en look at me. I ain’t raise my eyes, suh; I des look in de embers. Bime-by he say, ‘Ain’t I allers treat you well, Ananias?’ I ’low, ‘Yasser.’ Den he say, ‘Ain’t I raise you up fum a little baby, w’en you got no daddy?’ I ’low, ‘Yasser.’ He say, ‘How come you treat me dis a-way, Ananias? W’at make you show dem Yankees whar my hosses en mules is?’”
Ananias paused as he picked his way through the mud, leading his broken-down horse.
“What did you tell him?” said Lawyer Terrell, somewhat curtly.
“Well, suh, I dunner w’at de name er God come ’cross me. I wuz dat full up dat I can’t talk. I tried ter tell Marster des ’zactly how it wuz, but look like I wuz all choke up. White folks kin talk right straight ’long, but niggers is diffunt. Marster stood dar, he did, en look at me right hard, en I know by de way he look dat his feelin’s wuz hurted, en dis make me wuss. Eve’y time I try ter talk, suh, sumpin’ ne’r kotch me in de neck, en ’fo’ I kin come ter myse’f, suh, Marster wuz done gone. I got up en tried ter holler at ’im, but dat ketch wuz dar in my neck, suh, en mo’ special wuz it dar, suh, w’en I see dat he wuz gwine ’long wid his head down; en dey mighty few folks, suh, dat ever is see my marster dat a-way. He kyar his head high, suh, ef I do say it myse’f.”
“Why didn’t you follow after him and tell him about it?” inquired Lawyer Terrell, drawing his lap-robe closer about his knee.
“Dat des zactly w’at I oughter done, suh; but right den en dar I ain’t know w’at ter do. I know’d dat nigger like me ain’t got no business foolin’ ’roun’ much, en dat wuz all I did know. I sot down, I did, en I make up my min’ dat ef Marster got de idee dat I had his stock run’d off, I better git out fum dar; en den I went ter work, suh, en I pack up w’at little duds I got, en I put out wid de army. I march wid um, suh, plum tell dey got ter Sander’ville, en dar I ax um w’at dey gwine pay me fer gwine wid um. Well, suh, you mayn’t b’lieve me, but dem w’ite mens dey des laugh at me. All dis time I bin runnin’ over in my min’ ’bout Marster en Miss Nelly, en w’en I fin’ out dat dey wa’n’t no pay fer niggers gwine wid de army I des up en say ter myse’f dat dat kind er business ain’t gwine do fer me.”
“If they had paid you anything,” said Lawyer Terrell, “I suppose you would have gone on with the army?”
“Who? Me? Dat I wouldn’t,” replied Ananias, emphatically—“dat I wouldn’t. I’d ’a’ got my money, en I’d ’a’ come back home, kaze I boun’ you I wa’n’t a-gwine ter let Marster drap off and die widout knowin’ who run’d dem stock off. No, suh. I wuz des ’bleege ter come back.”
“Ananias,” said Lawyer Terrell, “you are a good man.”