'O Master Robert! dear Master Robert, save me! Oh! save me; for the love of the dear children, save me!'
The little boy and girl took hold of his skirts, and both crying hard, turned their faces up to his. The youngest said:
'Oh! do, massa! take us 'way from dis man; he bery bad, massa. He whip you' little Rosey 'case she couldn't walk all de way—all de way har, massa!'
The water gathered in Preston's eyes as he asked:
'Why did they sell you, Phyllis? Why didn't I know of it?'
'Missus went to you, Master Robert, but you warn't to home. Master had to have the money right off. The trader was thar. Master couldn't wait till you come back. Oh! save me! He's takin' me to Orleans, to Orleans, Master Robert. Do save me! Think of the chil'ren, Master Robert. Oh! think of the chil'ren!' And she loosened her hold of his limbs, and wept as if her very heart was breaking.
Preston's words came thick and broken, his frame shook, he almost groaned as he said:
'I would to God that I could, Phyllis; but I am in debt—pressed on every side. I could not raise the money to save my soul!'
'O my God! what will become of us?' exclaimed the woman. 'Think of little Lule, Master Robert! They've taken me 'way from her! Oh! what will become of her, Master Robert? What will become of her?' and she moaned and wept harder than before.
He stood like a man on whom the sentence of death had fallen. A cold, glassy look came into his eyes, a thick, heavy sweat started from his forehead, his iron limbs seemed giving way under him. Placing my hand gently on his shoulder, I said: