Harry Powell had drifted to the North several years before, and established a practice in Philadelphia. He was thoroughly opposed to slavery, and when the war broke out lost no time in joining the Federal troops, much to the horror of his two aunts and his cousin Marion. As for St. John, that spendthrift said it was "just like Harry, who had no head on his shoulders, anyway."
On the day following the arrival of the Federal troops Old Ben was making his way to his cabin for some things, when he ran across Colonel Stanton on his way to the Ruthven mansion. The colonel was accompanied by Harry Powell, but the young surgeon now wore a heavy mustache, and for the moment the old colored man did not recognize him.
"See here, my man. I want to talk to you," began Colonel Stanton, as he held up his hand for Ben to halt.
"Yes, sah," and Old Ben touched his hat respectfully.
"Did I understand that this is the plantation of Mrs. Alice Ruthven?"
"Yes, sah."
"Why, it's Old Ben!" cried Harry Powell, striding forward. "Don't you remember me, you old rascal?" and he slapped the colored man on the back.
Old Ben stared in astonishment for a moment, and then his ebony face broke out into a broad smile.
"Bless my soul, if it aint Massah Harry Powell!"
"Of course it is, Ben."