At last the wanderers reached their goal, the forest road bordering the Caldwell plantation, Mill Creek, near Newberry, South Carolina, weary, hungry, dirty, unshaven. The house could be seen in the near distance and William warned Cudjo, "We shall go to the rear door and you represent me as a man from the ranks of the South Carolina Regiment with news of Lieutenant Caldwell. To see me in my present condition, without warning, would be too great a shock to my mother. I will even disguise my voice. Cudjo, there is no use in my trying to thank you. You know my appreciation. Without you and your good planning I'd probably be dead by now in that cursed prison and my mother would never have seen her son again, nor 'would my fiancee, Miss Williams. We are all deeply in your debt."
"I doesn't want no thanks, Marse Willum. Wets always been togedder and wets jest goint to keep on bein' togedder--- That's all I wants. Whas dat? I hears a horse acomin’."
The horse, a young filly, ridden by a young woman, spied the men in the road, started to wheel back, the saddle turned, the rider fell and the beast ran off;
William approached her and asked, "Are you hurt?"
"Since you do not require my help I will then go catch your horse," he said not offering her assistance lest his approach, too close, frighten her.
Cudjo looked at his master for instructions. William shook his head slightly in the negative. They knew this young lady well, Miss Elizabeth Williams, but she failed to recognize in this gaunt, disheveled and dirty soldier, her fiance.
'Very soon William was back with the horse, adjusted the saddle and helped the girl to mount,
"Who lives In that plantation house over there?" asked William.
"The Widow Rebecca Caldwell," she replied. "I am going there to