must henceforth be her mistress? What dread future lay before her?

Sixteen summers bad Lina counted, and all her life long had she been a slave. But hers had been a gentle bondage the chains of slavery had been a silken flower, wreathed on to her it had never galled her sensitive spirit. She had been more like a child than a servant to the good Madam Hayward. In that household love had been the ruling spirit.

Madam Hayward had been a widow for many years; her son and daughter, long since married, resided in Washington, consequently she lived alone with her devoted servants.

Mrs. Col. Gordon often remonstrated with her mother upon her indulgence to her servants; she specially objected to her treatment of Lina. Though Lina was fair and beautiful, she was still a slave, and that fact should ever be impressed upon her mind. But Madam Hayward would smile and gently waive the subject, and, if possible, be kinder still to her little

maid.

Madam Hayward was so idolized by her servants, that she needed seldom to command, for her wishes were all anticipated. Now death had breathed upon the beloved one, and she lay ready for the last resting place. A bleak cloud enveloped that splendid home, and grieving hearts throbbed fearfully in dusky bosoms.

Lina was not permitted a long indulgence of her sorrow. Her name was called in a sharp, imperative whisper, and she lifted up her head like one bewildered. Mrs. Gordon stood at the door beckoning to her. She obeyed mechanically, and stepped out into the hall and closed the door. Mrs. Gordon looked searchingly into her tear-stained face, and grew much displeased. She had been half jealous of the love her mother had lavished upon this girl, and was angry at such manifestations

of sorrow.

"Lina," she said, in a cold, stern voice, "let us have no more of this. Stop crying and attend to your work. If you do not behave you will surely suffer for it. I don't make babies of my servants, as you will soon learn. You have been humored and praised until you think

yourself handsome and better than the rest of your class, but you are not. You are no better and just as much a slave as the blackest darkey in the house. Do you hear, girl?"

Lina had been listening with a frightened air, and at these words she shrank and drooped as from a sudden blow.

Meg is in the breakfast room, making crape trimming; do you go and help her as fast as you can; there are yards and yards to make."

"Yes, ma'am," replied Lina, humbly, and she turned away.

"What's the hurry, pretty one?" cried Mr. Allen Hayward, intercepting her on the way, and putting his hand on her shoulder. Lina trembled, blushed deeply, and turned her face away.

Mr. Hayward was a handsome man of thirty-five, with a proud, dashing air, selfish, wilful mouth, and dangerous eyes.

puss;

He smiled triumphantly as he saw the girl's trepidation, but said, in a soothing tone, "don't be afraid, I think you are deuced good-looking. I'll take you to Washington, and I'll swear there'll not be a handsomer wench in the city. Do you know you are mine, now, child? You shall have fine times; no work to do, and plenty of gay clothes. Eh, Lina, look up and call me master!"

But Lina could not; she started away, panting and sobbing. In the breakfast room, Meg, Mrs. Gordon's maid, sat crying over her work.

"Come, help me, Lina," she cried, crossly, "or missus will beat me again. Work hard as ever I can she will call me lazy. Oh, dear!"

Lina did not heed her. She stood with clenched hands, the image of despair. A slave-oh, was she a slave? She had never been called so before; she had never realized it until now. "A slavea slave"-and she writhed as if in torture. Her face and form were reflected in the mirror, and she could have cursed her beauty then, for even in her fright and grief she was wondrously beautiful. A clear, olive complexion was hers; scarlet, pouting lips, teeth like pearls, starry eyes, and a magnificent wealth of purple black hair, which fell in wavy ringlets to her

waist. "O, hateful beauty," she thought, "better be like black, stupid Meg." "A slave, and his !" she cried aloud, "I shall die, I shall die!"

Meg looked up in amaze. She was always bewailing her fate as the servant of so cruel a task-mistress, but had no conception of the depth of anguish expressed in Lina's voice and manner.

Lina was not ignorant of the profligate character of Allen Hayward. She had seen her dear mistress weep when she knew his conduct was the cause, and she had felt instinctively that Madam Hayward wished to keep her out of his sight. Alas, poor child, the instruction which had made her so pure and womaly, seemed now but a cruel kindness!

"Allen Hayward's slave subject to his will! Oh, God have pity!

She sank down upon the floor moaning and weeping.

"Get up instantly and go to work!" it was the voice of Mrs. Gordon, trembling with passion. "Bad as Meg is, she would not dare to disobey me so. Get up, I say! If it were not for my mother lying dead in the house, I'd teach you a lesson you whould not soon forget!"

Mrs.

Lina wiped her eyes, and in utter desperation commenced her work. Gordon stood looking upon the two girls with lowering brow, for a little time, then withdrew in dignified silence. She found her brother in the parlor. He instantly saw the cloud upon her brow.

"What now, sister, you look terribly vexed?"

you

think maid that

eted her this two years, an that because she is a nice wait. I shall give her up to you? No, Madam Gordon. Besides she will be happier with me, for you would discipline her, and I shall treat her like a queen. Take your pick of all the others, but I'll take Lina." Mrs. Gordon flushed to the temples and bit her lips in anger. Though she was silent she did not yield the point; she only waited, out of respect to her mother's memory to press the subject further. She did not wish to quarrel with her high-tempered brother about the division of the property, while the poor lady lay dead in the house. A long procession of carriages followed Madam Hayward to the grave, and many tears of sincere sorrow were shed, for her unobtrusive goodness had won loving friends. But the household servants, who gathered around the open grave with irrepressible groans and weeping, were the truest mourners. Helpless children bereaved of parents and home, could not be more desolate than they, for the most dreadful possibilities lay in their future. Lina lingered alone by the resting place of her beloved mistress until night, then, with the fountain of tears all exhausted, she returned to the house, sick with forebodings of woe.

The property was to be divided equally between the brother and sister, the mother having left the arrangement of matters to their own discretion. Allen Hayward was an honorable man in regard to business affairs, and was prepared to make a just division of the estate. But a serious quarrel arose between him and Mrs. Gordon, concerning the poor slave girl Lina. Both were determined to own

her.

"These are troublesome times," said Mr. Hayward, "and slave property is in a precarious condition. This war is stirring things up strangely. I think that our domestic institutions are likely at any moment to be destroyed, and the fewer niggers we have in our possession the bet ter for us. I claim Lina, but the other servants falling to my share I shall dispose of immediately."

Mrs. Gordon coincided with her brother in the plan of disposing of the property,

but claimed Lina as her own.

Mr. Hayward offered to allow thrice the value for Lina, even more, if his sister would give her up to him. But no. She was determined to own the beautiful girl, and argued her point as energetically as her brother.

The discussion waxed warmer and warmer, until ungenerous. and unmanly and unwomanly words were uttered. But after all both were obliged to yield, and concluded to give Lina up and dispose of her with the other servants, at public auc

tion.

One evening the principal servants were grouped in the kitchen, where for many years, Juno, the cook, had reigned with undisputed sway. Juno was a wholesome looking mulatto, past middle age, with a commanding, self-sufficient air. In her way she was quite an autocrat, and exercised far more authority than her gentle mistress had ever done. She was a famous cook, and prouder of that distinction than author or artist ever was of fame. Still she had a soft heart in spite of her scolding tongue. Her" ole man," the coachman, she treated like a petted child, and her only child, or rather the only one cruel fate had permitted her to retain, was the idol of her heart. Her mistress, Madam Hayward, she loved devotedly, and would have served her upon her knees if it had been required.

Jane, the housemaid, and Alonzo, the waiter; sat on the door step side by side. Their hands were clasped together and tears were in the eyes of each. They loved, and Madam Hayward had promised that they should marry soon. The pretty Jane had dreamed of the wedding festival every night for a month, and the white muslin for the wedding robe had been purchased by her generous mistress. Now their cup of bliss had been dashed to the ground, and their hearts were full of bitter grief.

Nancy, the laundry woman, sat in a corner rocking a babe upon her bosom. She was very black, and her features were of the true African type. She had not been an inmate of the establishment long, and seemed unlike all the other servants. Her ways were sullen and repulsive, so that the gentle Madam Hayward had been

tried by her stupidity and obstinacy. No one loved her, and she loved none except the black mite of humanity in her arms. Poor Nancy! black, ugly, unlovely, a slave-but still a woman! She never spoke of her past life, yet she could have told a story of tragedy. She had never known a home, never a friend. She had been passed from one master to another continually, and toil and abuse had been her daily lot. Five times had she been a mother, and each time until now had her babe in early infancy been torn from her bosom, and sold away from her. She had struggled at parting, and contended like an enraged tigress, then from sheer exhaustion she would sink into sullen despondency. Her heart was turned to stone with but one womanly spot where the word mother was written.

Juno's 'ole man' gave an audible sigh, and said, “if it must be, it must. 'Pears like 'twill be hard to lose our Joe, now, but Mass'r Allen will want him, and Missus Gordon will take us."

"O dear," responded Juno, 'taint no matter where we be now since ole missus is gone-there is nobody like her. Joe is so spunky and pert it will be hard times for him, poor boy!"

The lad she commiserated, at that moment passed by Juno and Alonzo and stood in their midst. He was a straight, brighteyed boy of fourteen, with a clear, dark complexion and features so purely European that he might have denied his lineage but for his wooly hair. There was an expression upon his face which attracted the attention of each one present, as he stood with lips apart and breast rising and falling with strong excitement.

66

Mother," he burst out at length, mother, to-morrow we'll be sold at auction; every one of us!"

A cry of dismay and anguish burst forth from each heart.

"Oh, Lor! it can't be, nohow!" groaned Juno.

"Who told you?" asked Alonzo, rising to his feet and standing very erect.

"Major Simmons just now patted me on the head and said I was a smart boy, and that he should look out to-morrow and buy me if I didn't go too high."

ror.

"Yes, you, you'll be sold, too!" cried Jane with a flash of cruel joy even in her pain. She had ever been jealous of Lina's beauty and superior privileges. "You'll come down now and be a nigger like the rest of us!"

"Jane, Jane!" said the kinder Alonzo in beseeching tones.

"I don't care!" cried the girl with a renewed flood of tears.

"Now Missus is dead we's all gwyn to destruction," sobbed Juno, "me and my 'ole man' 'ill be totin round the world till we die and Joe! Oh, Joe, praps 'ill go to Georgia!"

Mother, see here," commanded Joe, "Is'n a nigger, but I wont be a slave! I shall watch my chance and mabby I'll be in Canady some day," and the boy threw back his head with strong determination.

"O, don't Joe, don't, you'll git ketched and be whipped to death." Poor old Juno was getting quite wild with apprehension.

All this time Nancy had sat strangely quiet with her face hidden in her baby's hair. She had made no sign of pain, and the others in their own trouble cast no thought upon her. But the deepest, bitterest sorrow was in her soul, and a wild determination arose in her clouded mind.

With fleet steps Lina passed on to Mrs. Gordon's room. She had thought it a dreadful alternative to be either the servant of that lady or her brother, but now a more awful and unlooked for future loomed before.

To be sold at public auction! a young, beautiful maiden, pure, womanly and refined! Any who had money could buy, be he ever so brutal, coarse or wicked!

Shuddering and weeping hysterically, Lina cast herself at Mrs. Gordon's feet,

pity!"

What do you mean, child?" "They say out in the kitchen that we are all to be sold to-morrow!" "Well."

Mrs. Gordon's voice was

very cold and indifferent, but an accusing conscience seemed whispering in her ear the dying words of her mother" be kind to my servants, especially poor Lina."

"Oh, Mrs. Gordon, don't, don't! I am on my knees to you. I am humble enough now! you have said that I was above my place and needed discipline; you have said that you would soon take me down-Oh, do it! punish me, beat me every hour; I will work while I have breath; but don't sell me!"

"What a parade you make," cried the lady. "Are not servants sold every day, and is it worse for you than others?"

"But my mistress was so kind to me, and I never expected such a thing!" pleaded Lina. "Let me be your slave, don't sell me and I will serve you so faithfully that you will be glad you granted my prayer!"

Mrs. Gordon turned her eyes from the beautiful face upturned to hers in such agonizing appeal, saying, "No, no, child, it cannot be. I am sorry for you; it is hard, but no worse for you than thousands of others.

Now be a good girl and don't trouble me any more; go, go, for I am tired."

Lina felt that her fate was sealed, and turned away in despair.

66

Pretty Lina, don't cry," said Allen Hayward in her ear. She started and shuddered as if at the hiss of a serpent.

"You are to be mine yet, in spite of Mrs. Col. Gordon. Though I do not take you in the division of the property, I suppose I have as good a right to buy you as any body; he, he, he! Lina, to-morrow put on your poorest dress, braid up this beautitul hair, and mind me when they put you up for sale, that you look dull and cross, and don't show those eyes of yours. You're a prize and I'll win you. Do you

bear, and will you obey? remember I'm to be your master." Lina, trembling, answered "yes," and still more humbled and grief stricken, she hurried away.

up

The dread morrow came. A sad, silent group were ranged in the kitchen of the Hayward establishment. They must give the home they had known so long; they must be parted cruelly and widely. Lina was there crouching in one corner, dressed as her future master had commanded. The idea of being sold was tenfold mcre harrowing to her than to her ignorant companions, and the probability of becoming the property of Allen Hayward did not in the least lighten the burden of her woe. Nancy sat as yesterday, with her child in her arms, constrained and motionless. Glory, glory! shout glory!" cried Joe, rushing into the cabin and seizing his mother around the waist. 64 Shout, every one of you, glory!"

"Is the world comin' to an end?" gasped the frightened Juno.

No, no," cried the boy in triumphant tones, "but slavery is! we're free-we're free!""

All were crowding around him but Nancy, questioning in broken phrases the meaning of his words.

"Brother Sampson was a preachin' on he meetin' house steps and all the cullud op'lation was 'bout him. I stopped to ear, and he said, 'Shout Ethiopia, your chains have fallen; the day of deliverance as come-you are free, you are free?" Brother Sampson was a free colored preacher, much looked up to and believed in by the negroes of the neighborhood. Hope, sunshine, was beaming in the faces of Joe's listeners.

"Has the war done it?" asked Juno's 'ole man.'

"Have the niggers ris?" queried Alonzo, meaning to ask if there was insurrection of the slaves.

"Have the abolitioners come?" asked another, eagerly.

"O, pooh," cried Joe, contemptuously, "it's done easier than you say. The President, bless him! has said free all the nigger in the distric' o' Columby,' an' when he speaks it is done. We shan't be

Foolish people! they fell to weeping for joy, and shouted Glory,' with Joe, most uproariously.

But Lina feared and trembled. With pallid lips she implored Joe to stop dancing and tell her all he knew about it. The boy pulled a paper from his pocket, saying, "you can read about it and tell us.

Lina was not ignorant of the nature of the war in which the country was involved, and vague hopes of such a possibility had presented themselves to her even in the depths of her despair.

She read, and with gushing tears assured her companions that Joe had told them truly. They were all to be purchased of their masters and made free.

Free! free! Oh, glorious tidings! it was as though the morning sun had risen upon the midnight of their woe.

Free! sweet word, blessed word, to black as well as white. It seemed too good to be true, and for a few moments they were silent from depth of feeling. Then Juno clasped her 'ole man' around his neck with her great black arms, sobbing, "We shan't die slaves, O, bress de Lor!"

Joe walked the cabin back and forth with the air of a general. The fires of manhood were struggling in his breast. Slavery would have been a bitter thing for him.

Alonzo and Jane fell into each others arms. They were free. No man could part them, They might love and wed; they might toil for and with each other and none could gainsay their right.

But Lina's sense of deliverance was greater still than theirs. One moment she had crouched upon the floor, a slave, crushed, humbled to the dust, and writhing at the prospect of such degradation. Now she stood erect; her chains were loosed, and she could wrap the mantle of pure womanhood about her and go her way. Her heart leaped up like a winged creature, sinding praises to God.

She left her companions to the characteristic manifestations of their joy, and went forth to the grave of Madam Hay