"Name er Gawd, Sam—hit is you."
"Sho, hit's me!"
"What yer doin' here?"
"I come to see my old marster when I hears all dis talk 'bout war. Whar is he?"
Ben lifted his eyes to the ceiling and spoke in a solemn tone:
"Up dar in his room all night trampin' back an' forth lak er lion in de cage, waitin' fur Marse Stuart ter fetch de news fum Richmond 'bout secessun—"
"Secessun?"
Ben nodded—and raised his eyes in a dreamy look.
"Some say Ole Virginy gwine ter stay in de Union. Some say she's a gwine ter secede. De Convenshun in Richmon' wuz votin' on hit yestiddy. Marse Stuart gone ter town ter fetch de news ter Arlington."
Sam stepped close and searched Ben's face.