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Scarlett remembered the hot day before the siege began when she and Rhett had sat in the carriage and the gang of negroes with Big Sam at their head had marched down the dusty street toward the entrenchments singing “Go Down； Moses。” She nodded。
“Wel； Ah wuked lak a dawg diggin’ bresswuks an’ fillin’ san’ bags； tell de Confedruts lef ‘Lanta。 De cap’n gempmum whut had me in charge； he wuz kilt an’ dar warn’t nobody ter tell Big Sam whut ter do； so Ah jes’ lay low in de bushes。 Ah thought Ah’d try ter git home ter Tara； but den Ah hear dat all de country roun’ Tara done buhnt up。 ‘Sides； Ah din’ hab no way ter git back an’ Ah wuz sceered de patterollers pick me up； kase Ah din’ hab no pass。 Den de Yankees come in an’ a Yankee gempmum； he wuz a cunnel； he tek a shine ter me an’ he keep me te ten’ ter his hawse an’ his boots。
“Yas； Ma’m！ Ah sho did feel bigitty； bein’ a body serbant lak Poke； w’en Ah ain’ nuthin’ but a fe’el han’。 Ah ain’ tell de Cunnel Ah wuz a fe’el han’ an’ he— Well； Miss Scarlett； Yankees is iggerunt folks！ He din’ know de diffunce！ So Ah stayed wid him an’ Ah went ter Sabannah wid him w’en Gin’ul Sherman went dar； an’ fo’ Gawd； Miss Scarlett； Ah nebber seed sech awful goin’…ons as Ah seed on de way ter Sabannah！ A…stealin’ an’ a…buhnin’—did dey buhn Tara； Miss Scarlett？”
“They set fire to it； but we put it out。”
“Well’m； Ah sho glad ter hear dat。 Tara mah home an’ Ah is aimin’ ter go back dar。 An’ w’en de wah ober； de Cunnel he say ter me： ‘You Sam！ You come on back Nawth wid me。 Ah pay you good wages。’ Well’m； lak all de niggers； Ah wuz honin’ ter try disyere freedom fo’ Ah went home； so Ah goes Nawth wid de Cunnel。 Yas’m； us went ter Washington an’ Noo Yawk an’ den ter Bawston whar de Cunnel lib。 Yas； Ma’am； Ah’s a trabeled nigger！ Miss Scarlett； dar’s mo’ hawses and cah’iges on dem Yankee streets dan you kin shake a stick at！ Ah wuz sceered all de time Ah wuz gwine git runned ober！”
“Did you like it up North； Sam？”
Sam scratched his woolly head。
“Ah did—an’ Ah din’t。 De Cunnel； he a mighty fine man an’ he unnerstan’ niggers。 But his wife； she sumpin’ else。 His wife； she call me ‘Mister’ fust time she seed me。 Yas’m； she do dat an’ Ah lak ter drap in mah tracks w’en she do it。 De Cunnel； he tell her ter call me ‘Sam’ an’ den she do it。 But all dem Yankee folks； fust time dey meet me； dey call me ‘Mist’ O’Hara。’ An’ dey ast mer ter set down wid dem； lak Ah wuz jes’ as good as dey wuz。 Well； Ah ain’ nebber set down wid w’ite folks an’ Ah is too ole ter learn。 Dey treat me lak Ah jes’ as good as dey wuz； Miss Scarlett； but in dere hearts； dey din’ lak me—dey din’ lak no niggers。 An’ dey wuz sceered of me； kase Ah’s so big。 An’ dey wuz allus astin’ me ‘bout de blood houn’s dat chase me an’ de beatin’s Ah got。 An’； Lawd； Miss Scarlett； Ah ain’ nebber got no beatin’s！ You know Mist’ Gerald ain’ gwine let nobody beat a ‘spensive nigger lak me！
“Wen Ah tell dem dat an’ tell dem how good Miss Ellen ter de niggers； an’ how she set up a whole week wid me w’en Ah had de pneumony； dey doan b’lieve me。 An’； Miss Scarlett； Ah got ter honin’ fer Miss Ellen an’ Tara； tell it look lak Ah kain stan’ it no longer； an’ one night Ah lit out fer home； an’ Ah rid de freight cahs all de way down ter ‘Lanta。 Ef you buy me a ticket ter Tara； Ah sho be glad ter git home。 Ah sho be glad ter see Miss Ellen and Mist’ Gerald agin。 Ah done had nuff freedom。 Ah wants somebody ter feed me good vittles reg’lar； and tell me whut ter do an’ whut not ter do； an’ look affer me w’en Ah gits sick。 S’pose Ah gits de pneumony agin？ Is dat Yankee lady gwine tek keer of me？ No； Ma’m！ She gwine call me ‘Mist’ O’Hara’ but she ain’ gwine nuss me。 But Miss Ellen； she gwine nuss me； do Ah git sick an’—whut’s de mattuh； Miss Scarlett？”
“Pa and Mother are both dead； Sam。”
“Daid？ Is you funnin’ wid me； Miss Scarlett？ Dat ain’ no way ter treat me！”
“I’m not funning。 It’s true。 Mother died when Sherman men came through Tara and Pa—he went last June。 Oh； Sam； don’t cry。 Please don’t！ If you do； I’ll cry too。 Sam； don’t！ I just can’t stand it。 Let’s don’t talk about it now。 I’ll tell you all about it some other time。 。。。 Miss Suellen is at Tara and she’s married to a mighty fine man； Mr。 Will Benteen。 And Miss Carreen； she’s in a—” Scarlett paused。 She could never make plain to the weeping giant what a convent was。 “She’s living in Charleston now。 But Pork and Prissy are at Tara。 。。。 There； Sam； wipe your nose。 Do you really want to go home？”
“Yas’m but it ain’ gwine be lak Ah thought wid Miss Ellen an’—”
“Sam； how’d you like to stay here in Atlanta and work for me？ I need a driver and I need one bad with so many mean folks around these days。”
“Yas’m； You sho do。 Ah been aimin’ ter say you ain’ got no bizness drivin’ ‘round by yo’seff； Miss Scarlett You ain’ got no notion how mean some niggers is dese days； specially dem whut live hyah in Shantytown。 It ain’ safe fer you。 Ah ain’ been in Shantytown but two days； but Ah hear dem talk ‘bout you。 An’ yesterday w’en you druv by an’ dem trashy black wenches holler at you； Ah recernize you but you went by so fas’ Ah couldn’ ketch you。 But Ah sho tan de hides of dem niggers！ Ah sho did。 Ain’ you notice dar ain’ none of dem roun’ hyah terday？”
“I did notice and I certainly thank you； Sam。 Well； how would you like to be my carriage man？”
“Miss Scarlett； thankee； Ma’m； but Ah specs Ah better go ter Tara。”
Big Sam looked down and his bare toe traced aimless marks in the road。 There was a furtive uneasiness about him。
“Now； why？ I’ll pay you good wages。 You must stay with me。”
The big black face； stupid and as easily read as a child’s； looked up at her and there was fear in it。 He came closer and； leaning over the side of the buggy； whispered： “Miss Scarlett； Ah got ter git outer ‘Lanta。 Ah got ter git ter Tara whar dey woan fine me。 Ah—Ah done kilt a man。”
“A darky？”
“No’m。 A w’ite man。 A Yankee sojer and dey’s lookin’ fer me。 Dat de reason Ah’m hyah at Shantytown。”
“How did it happen？”
“He wuz drunk an’ he said sumpin’ Ah couldn’ tek noways an’ Ah got mah han’s on his neck—an’ Ah din’ mean ter kill him； Miss Scarlett； but mah han’s is pow’ful strong； an’ fo’ Ah knowed it； he wuz kilt。 An’ Ah wuz so sceered Ah din’ know whut ter do！ So Ah come out hyah ter hide an’ w’en Ah seed you go by yestiddy； Ah says ‘Bress Gawd！ Dar Miss Scarlett！ She tek keer of me。 She ain’ gwine let de Yankees git me。 She sen’ me back ter Tara。”
“You say they’re after you？ They know you did it？”
“Yas’m； Ah’s so big dar ain’ no mistakin’ me。 Ah spec Ah’s de bigges’ nigger in ‘Lanta。 Dey done been out hyah already affer me las’ night but a nigger gal； she hid me in a cabe ober in de woods； tell dey wuz gone。”
Scarlett sat frowning for a moment。 She was not in the least alarmed or distressed that Sam had committed murder； but she was disappointed that she could not have him as a driver。 A big negro like Sam would be as good a bod