“Yes, who’s nigger be I?  Whar am I gwine?” Mandy Ann cried, jerking her apron from her head.

“In the natural sequence of things you belong to the little girl,” the Colonel replied, adding, “I might buy you—­”

But he got no further.  All of Mandy Ann’s animosity, when Ted suggested that the man from the North had come to buy her, and she had begged her mistress to save her from such a fate, had returned, and she exclaimed vehemently, “Fo’ de Lawd, not dat ar.  Lemme stay hyar.  You ’members Ted, de colored boy on de ‘Hatty.’  We’s kep’ company, off an’ on, a year, sometimes quarrelin’, and den makin’ up.  I can’t leave Ted.”

Her soul was in her eyes, as she begged for herself and Ted, and the Colonel hastened to say, “You did not let me finish.  I couldn’t buy you, if I would, and if I did I’d set you free.  I will see that this is done some time.”

“Bress you, Mas’r, for dat ar,” Mandy Ann began, but the Colonel stopped her by saying, “You are young to be keeping company.”

“I’se ’most as ole as Miss Dory when lill chile was born,” was the reply, which silenced the Colonel with regard to her age.

He had quite a liking for Mandy Ann, and meant to do all he could for her and Jake, and after some further conversation it was arranged that she should stay with the latter, the Colonel promising to see that her wages were paid, and saying that she could keep the money for herself.  He was certainly acting generously towards the two blacks, who would have been happy but for the parting with the child, which weighed so heavily upon them.  There was not much time left, for the “Hatty” sailed early the next morning, and the Colonel must be on board that night.

Great as was their grief it was nothing compared to the antagonism of the child, when she heard she was to go with the Colonel, and leave Jake and Mandy Ann behind.  She would not go, she said, and fought like a little tiger when that evening the Colonel came for her, and Mandy Ann tried to dress her for the journey.  Under the table, and lounge, and chairs she crawled in her efforts to hide, and finally springing into Jake’s lap begged him to keep her, promising to be good and never call him nor Mandy Ann niggers again, and nearly breaking Jake’s heart with her tears and pretty coaxings.  At last worn out with excitement, and feeling that the battle was against her, she sobbed, “Go wid me, Shaky, if I goes.”

“I ’spects I’ll hev to go part way—­say to Savannah—­ef you gets her off quiet.  Thar’s that in her will make her jump inter de river ef we pushes her too far,” Jake said, and the Colonel, who was sweating like rain, and did not care for a scene on the “Hatty,” finally consented for Jake to accompany them to Savannah, trusting Providence for what might follow.

Thus quieted the child made no resistance when Mandy Ann changed her soiled white dress for one more suitable for the trip, and then began to pack her few belongings.  Here the Colonel stopped her.  He did not know much about children’s clothes, but he felt intuitively that nothing of the child’s present wardrobe would ever be worn at Crompton Place.  He did not say this in so many words, but Mandy Ann understood him and asked, “Ain’t she to carry nothin’?”