"Who is you?" he asked again.
"I am a Yankee officer, escaped from a Rebel prison, and I am trying to reach the Yankee army," I replied; and again I asked, "Will you betray me?"
"No, sah, and dar ain't a nigga in Souf Car'lina dat would betray ye!"
I have seen some of our most gifted and celebrated orators, when they have seemed almost inspired; but never in my life did I see more dignity of deportment or a countenance display more nobility of soul, than did that old man's as he uttered this sentence.
While we were talking, a young negro woman, who had been lying on a bed at the back part of the room, and whom I had not observed before, got up, unbarred the door, and left the cabin.
In less than ten minutes, the room was filled with negroes of both sexes. Notwithstanding the assurance of the old man, I became uneasy. "For God's sake," I said, "don't let any more in."
Some one inquired, "Why?"
"I am afraid some of you may betray me," I replied; "and I would rather die than to be recaptured."
It was evident that the girl had told them who I was, from the remarks dropped by one and another.