Juan, the white slave, and the rebel planter's daughter
page: Illustration (TitlePage) [View Page Illustration (TitlePage) ]00 Q.1T THE WHITE SLAVE AND THE A STIRRING STORY OF SLAVERY, SECESSION, SUF. FERING, AN) REVENGE-REVEALING THE DEEP TREACHERY OF THE GREAT SOUTHERN REBELLION. BY W. D. R. Author of The Jeweler's .Daughter," "T TheFireman. Bride," The Knights of the Golden Circle,"'etc. PRICE, 25 CENTS. PHILADELPHIA: PUBLISHED BY BARCLAY & CO No. 602 ARCH STREET. 1865. page: Illustration[View Page Illustration] ! 0 Daring abduction of Beatrice by Rebel Desperadoes-her fearless rescue. Entered according to the act of Congress, in the year 1865, by BARCLAY & CO., An the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States in and for '. Eastern District of Pennsylvania. I" jI' PREFACE. READER, in this the eighty-fifth year of American Independence, we are suffering from the terrible effects of the greatest and most fearful crisis through which this nation has ever passed; a crisis induced perhaps by several causes, but chiefly, all will admit, by that base bone of continual contention-" Southren Slavery;" be- neath the 'final. cultination,-of the angry agitation of which the nation has raved, and reeled, and staggered like a. strong giant drunk, with very madness; aye macdness in the disunion fiend has ruled. already, too long;, and the insane convulsions aiid internal throes of republican liberty-the hope of the world-have been; during the fiery ordeal, indeed fearfully severe and painful. How careful then will be the man who has the welfare of his dear country at heart,- that by any meanshe does not add greater distraction to the dangers already quite, sufficient for the govern- ment safely to bear. That by theoretic speculation merely on a subject that has already proved.a sword to separate very friend, he doesnot add still greater distraction to her distress. It is with this care, this innate feeling of regard for the lasting welfare of our own native-land, that we have penned the history of strange vicissitudes, suffering, 'and wrong, as, comprised on the pages of the White Slave;-which, indeed, is no ideal dream; no fanatical phantorp of a speculative theory; but the careful words of sober, serious, and substantial truth, shaded and'tinged indeed at inter- vals with the roseate coloring of the seeming improbabilities of romance though they be. Yet we flatter ourselves, that if'calmly . ulled, they will shadow forth at -least one of the 'several causes of our national domestic difficulties. Juan Mendeza met with at the state capitol of South Carolina, Columbia,.where he,-unsolicited, revealed to me the fact that he was a natural born slave, which surprised me beyond measure, for he was a fine, intelligent looking man, of about twenty-four years of agie, with hair dark, quite straight, and less' curling than my *1'. Al 6 page: 4-15[View Page 4-15] own; features as regular and of the Italian cast; and skin as fair, as white as the purest Caucasion. . I could not at first believe that a man so white, and of such fair, beautiful proportions, could be retained in bondage under the free government of Anierica, even though born a slave; and when I expressed my doubts of his African lineage, he grew quite excited; starting forward with considerable warmth, he hissed: "Look into my eyes." "Well,--" said I, calmly, after contemplating them a moment. "Do you not observe the bluish tinge through the whites of them ?" "Very slightly-" I answered, musingly, and with an inclination to impart, if I could, some word of encouragement to the poor serf. "And look at my hand, see that fearful color marking, though faintly, the root of each nail of my fingers, 'tis but a slight tinge, but alas, the mark though it be occasioned by but a single drop of African blood, is sufficiently indellible .to prove fatal. Though I be seven-eighths tviAte, of the purest Caucasion, and oneighth African, yet anjIexcluded from all affinity with my white brothers, impaled with the aown-trodden sons of the negro race- and com- pelled to remain a slave." And as hecontinued to recoitto me the bitter wrongs he' en- lured, vehemently vowing with upliftfed hands, that if ever he en- countered the author of his cruel destiny, he would certain as- sassinate him. Though my soul recoiled at the sound of the seem- ing unnatural vow of parricidal vengeance, yet I could not sup- press the train of' new thoughts the fearful oath suggested,"'and in spite of myself, grew deeply interested in the wronged and 'justly excited slave.. And so, without the least extenuation of malice, have I written out the history of his bitter life, in unison with the spirit of the .story as I received it from his own lips. Hoping therefore it may exert a due share of influence in correcting, if possible, our na- tional fault; and that, by the voluntary and peaceable avoidance of it altogether, finally avert the sure and terrible consequences of crime that' as a nation we may forever remain the favored of heaven, the hope and glory of all lands, I dedicate to the cause of public morals the conservative lesson inculcated in the faithful history of the WHIT SLAVE, THE AUTHOR. It 4 PRnaAeC. JIUA N. Oft' THE WHITE SlAVE. CHAPTER L GYER wa." fHuon," the peasants reply to the countess in the play of ' Love" rendered with more thrilling effect on the boardsof -'"oka Drury," than, by the youthful Tragedian, Juan. We will not say "the Theatre was crowded from pit to dome," yet the Parquette, family and dress circle and boxes, were filled with the "Elite 'and Fashion" of Philadelphia. Juan was youthful, scarce thirty years of age, but of ripe and elegant proportions, he was tall and manly, person regularly and classically developed; his features pf the purest [tallian mould,with eyes of glassy jet that in their dazzling seemed peircing with an all subdueing magnetism,.while the dark masses of his rich flowing hair dallied i luxuriant fulness with hiswell formed neck and shoulders. a or he was gifted by generous nature with all the finest requisites of mind, figure and voice, to appear from the stage with the most attractive and splendid effect. His delineation of the character of "Huoni'"so well adapted. to his capacity, was rendered with such chaste force an4 self qxaltqd power," that the audience hung spell-bound upon his delivery of ty following beautiful.lines; I -Thyself--that towerest above thy station-. Rank that excels its wearer doth degrade. Riches'impoverish that divide respect. Oh, to be cherished one's isef alone; To owe the love that cleaves to us To nought which fortune's summer-wioter-gives er takes To know that while we wear the heart and mind, Feature and formn high'heavm~ euddwed, 'is with,'! Let the storm pelt us, pifair weather warm, We shall be loved! King from theirtllronescast down Have blessed their fAte. tlt they were valued for Themselves, and not their stations. when some knee That hardly bowed )o them-In pleiitude, Has kissed thedust before them, stripped of all; 1 110acting companionfor the evening was in evey accomplishmt ais exact counterpart, and gave her lines in reply with equal dignity and ease. page: 16-17[View Page 16-17] 18 .-JUAN OR, Among the charmed audience there was one, who, envious of his passion, thought him in truth, in love with the beautiful Cecelia, and while with her parents she admired his lofty eloquence, she longed for the blissful moment when from the depth of his full soul, and alone lie would breathe in her willing ear-the same impassioned sentiments of self-sacrificing love. She was the favorite daughter of Antonio Capello, a man of wealth and aristocratic ease, and of Spanish A mer- ican birth. Having accumulated a good degree of wealth in the land where cruel magnificence, slavery and misery seem twin born, he now lived in Philadelphia a retired gentleman. His daughter the beautiful Beatrice was beloved not only for her beauty, but also her oodness of heart, and man excellencies of mind and character. She was young and surroundd with almost Queenly wealth, with everything to attract and lease. She was courted, flattered and carressed by the noblest of e land. It was late at night, and the streets of the city were well nigh aeserted, silence prevailed, save at intervals, when a hasty carriage or iaise rattled over the pavement, and the quick footstep of an o assional passenger fell upon the ear. The theatres and other pla es of amusement were closed for the night, and the swal'ms of plea ure-seeker's which they poured forth had time to reach their - om s, The select soiree of the proud Beatrice Capello had passed pleas . antly away, and the favored few,,who had been admitted to net society, were n6w taking their leave of her one by one, and sauntering into tie streets. Two alone lingered after the rest had gone, an these were among the most favored guests of Signor Antonio Capello and -his lovely daughter. Sinclai lJuval ad long been intimate with the family to which he had some time before introduced Juan, his bosom friend; and as Sinclair was held ih high estimationby both Beatrice and her father, Juan, for his friend's sake, was'regarded rather as an old acquaintance *than' one whom the scarcely knew. The two friends in ered after the rest had gone, but they too, at last took their leave, ind arm in arm.sauntered along the street. To have seen them, one would not have recognized in their thoughtful features, the two gay young rmen who an hour before attracted the attention of the entire party, by- their elegant address, ready and sparkling wit., Juan had.appeared.that evening in the characterof, - Othello," and he may have been fatigued, or was now relapsing into the strange cilmsucceeding his almost unapproachable person. ification of the loving though jealous, moor. It was -one of his happiest efforts. Flowers and boquets greeted him from the elite and fashion occupying .the, dress cicle and boxes. But now his gayety had passed away, and a sort-of pleasing seriousness possessed the heart of Juan and his friend. "Othello's active occupation seemed really to be gone. For soe tin neither spoke but walked on in silence all abused in their own -reflectigns. % / , - I I aWhat ails you Juan?" At length spoke Sinclair, breaking iM upon his friend's meditations. "I was thinking," Juan replied with a smile. "Very probably, for I believe that every rational being thinks, but may I ask what weighs upon your mind, giving to your every look and action a tinge of melancholy." Well really Sinclair, I scarcely know myself. But somehow the look which our friend Capello gAve me, as I took my leave, calls up early associations, and it seems to me,-that I have seen his-face before." "Indeed!" "1Yes Sinclair, it is even so; although when or where, I cannot tell. It must have been many years ago, however-perhaps when I was-a poor forsakein orphan." "!Juan, Juan, tell me about that, when you were tho orphan you have so often mentioned in my hearing." "Not to-night, Sinclair, if you please," said Juan shaking his - head sadly,. "for the recollections Capello's strange look called up are ssad enough without recuring to the details of my earl history; you know that I am an orphan-but the wrongs I endured, the wrongs which killed my mother, and which I have since sworn to revenge. if heaven has not saved me the- task-you know nothing of them Sinclair, and I hope you never will." "Pardon me Juan for (fuestioning you, I was not aware of the deep wounds on your bosom, and am sorry to make you sadder than before." "Yes, yes," Juan exclaimed vehemently, "I am -sad, and unless I seek some stirring scene, some powerful excitement, the melancholy of this night will stay by me for days. ItAis what I cannot shake off without assistance." "Then I will remain with you Juan; and we ,will seek some diversiontogether, and I will help youto get rid of your melancholy thoughts." "Thanks, good Sinclair; but what do you propose?" "You are fond of play?" "It is an amusement, although I seldom play for money, except though courtesy." "I know Juan. But the game alone excites you. If you woulJ forget your own thoughts, you cpuld do no better than spend the - remainder of the night-or at least a part of it at-P-ll-r's. The company there is always of the first class, the players generous, ant the wine superb. What do you say I" "I accept your proposition;" Juan replied quickening his step A * 17 1 0 Ta WiTE SLAVE page: 18-19[View Page 18-19] ia JVAM OR. . CHAPTER 1.1 TE GAMXSTEIS. . Twerty minutes more broug*t our two friends to o'0e of the most %ashionable gaming Saloons o Philadelphia. And though the hour was late, there was a large number- engaged at play. Spanish and Itallian amateures, Englis sportsmen, and German spectators, were mingled with American dandies, black legs and artists. All appeared upon the same footing there, all moved by one common impul, the passion for gaming. Juan was soon engaged with an experienced player named Livingston, while Sinclair together with several stran- gers stood by, watching the progress of the game. Although but a moderate player, yet Juan was unusually skillful at cards, bein quick at observation, and accustomed to all thetricks of the age. n the resent occasion, however he had his match.. His adversary played with great coolness and precision, turning his wholeattention to the game.' Juanat-first played carelessly, butnghen game aner game closed in favor of his adversary, he began to pay more attention, though he played with the same coolness as before. His fortune, however did not charge. Livingston continued to win from him until he had but a' single bill left in his pocket. This .Juan staked, played for, and lost.I "6Lawrence Livingston," he exbaaimed fyou are inluck to-night: rou have won from me more than two-huidred dollars, and I have'nt ime to stop, and recover my losses. - Another time however-" "It is not late.", Politely interrupted Livingston. "Not late,J know, but you must excuse me for to-iight," began' Juan, but arinmur of dissatisfaction among the speqtators checked him, and heeast' a meaning glance at Sinclair Duval.- Sinclair understood hini, and quietlyslippedabankbillintohis hands unobserved by the spebtators. Juan glanced at it hastily and a strange smile layed about his lips, he saw it was more than equal in value to all he hadlost "If thenJ am to be revenged on you to-niht, Lawrence Livingston," said he gaily "I must it at one stroke, there's any stake." "Good!"- exclaimed Livingston, and the cards were again arranged. The game was short, but played with the greatest cool- ness ahd attention. "You have lost" observed Juan carelessly, " are you satisfied now- "Ha, 'ha, you are very 'kind," returned Livingston, " but surely - you will not leave me so--'?' "Still at your service." Said Juan shuffling the cards. "9The stake,," suggested Livingston. "That same bill seems lucky one," the other observed with a anile, "if you have no objections."- I II Tu WITS SLAVE A9 Not the least." Once more they played, and once more Juan von.. "Confound it, had I not played a diamond when it should have been a trump-but never mind, we'll try the game once more.' S -"Livigston n.w studied the game.until t egpiratior p out upon his brow; played with the utmost caution; watched every move of his adversary as. the tiger watches hia prey; but 41l vain. A third time Juan wasinlucl l ymivingstoasild noi a word,. but wiping the sweat from;his fteheAd, pro4edad to shpi$l the Car. - "The same stake again 1", asked Juan., Livingston made no reply save a slight gesture of affirmation, and again the play went on., aga"The devil is in your fingers to-night,' muttered Livingston forcing a smile as.still another gm0 wet over to Juan's favqr. "Only a momentary change ol fortune, you will-recover in a shoqt time." Again they played, and agai Livingston lost. Ie. became agitated at last, and played like an iIane an; clutching th'cars with desperate energy, and keepinghis blood-sot.eyes flidupon the game. Juan on theotherha; was ic nd self-poesedhe appeared to regard his astonishing success with utmost indiffierene. A group of admiring spectatorssoQn gathered around them, greatly interested in the progress of the play. "My dear Sir," said Juan at length becoxhng unea syat the des- perate manner in which his 4versary played. "M ear Sir, is it not time to finish for to-night? noAtheretime-" "Play on, play on!" interrupted Livintg#on in a h ny voice. d they did play on, an4 i.a half hour, a_ rsducedhis opponeoit to his last dollar. For a moment, as Livinton with his ashyh compressed, and his pale brow resting on', s hands, stared atte cards on the table, a death-like silence prevailed. "Let us away," Sinclair whispered, touching Juan unperceived upon , the shoulder.,. Juan glanced at his friend, then at Livingston and finally at' the pile of money he had'won. ,Sinclair what shall I do I" he murmured, passing his hand across his brow." Here have I been playing for more than two hours, scarce knowing what I was about, I played for amusement, never once thinking that I have well nigh rueind this poor fellow, in fact when I look at the money here, it seems that I have been dreaming. Tell me have I won this fairly 1 The latter sentence alone caught the ear of Livingston, who started up as if a sudden thought just flashed through his brain. "Fair play I" ho echoed with a ghastly smile, "I never lost like that with an honest player." "Sir !" cried Juan, as the hot'blood mounted his brow. Livingston was desperate. While all the spectators started back with a sort of savage delight, he sprang forward gazing fieteely at Juan, exclaimed- H page: 20-21[View Page 20-21] I* JVAN Oi,' --You heard my words, ad present heard then., Jtan had become more calm, though his features al peared a shade paler than usual. "Yes Sir," He said politely, but added with a sarcastic smile, 1i herd your words; and beg to know when you will deign to explain them to me "At any time, the sooner the better." Replied Livingston fiercely. "-Here is my address, I prefer taking difficulties coolly." Juan answered, extending' him hiscard. Then'-turning on his heel, he left the saloon in company with his friend, Sinclair Duval, who flueried.' Juan yop are not going to fight the poor fellow ?" "Why not ?" "Why not f" he is beside himself, desperate. Return the poor .vil his moneyy " "Sinclair Duval," Exclaimed Juan reproachfully. "You too are beside yourself, are you not? Consider 'he has insulted me, I cannot retreat' if I would, as it is,-I pity him, for I am confident he will lose not only his money, but probably his life also." "Be not too confident, for I am told Lawrence Livingston is an able duellist." "Be that as it may, I shall attempt the exercise; will you stand S me",,I if"you are determined to do so, I will.", I am; and Sinclair, were he but fiftymiles South of this, I would aot wait until to-morro*, to-run him thrOugh." "Then'you trill meet him?" "I will, and with his choice of weapons; I care not what th.m are, pistols or sword" 11 run wRIr'gsLAvs. 21 CHAPTER III Tr MDUM On the day following, and occording to private appointment, Juan, and the exasperated and savage Livingston, with a seledti6n of some half dozen blacklegs, met in a reserved ro6n4 'donnebtd with the gambling hell, for the duel. Every avenue leading tohe appartment was tightly closed, windows shut, and'the do6rg'secutely locked. The gas was weakly turned on, giving a pale, sombre light to the murderous scene in the silent room. Sinclair Duval loved his frier d, and entered the place with a shudder. Even Juan betrayed less ardor 'for the strife than he 'exhib- ited on the evening previous. He seemed less excited, more cool. but firm. On the qther hand Livingston was even more passidiate and revengeful, than at the' first, and seemed anxious to commence the deadly conflict. In the course of twenty minutes the qi"et preliminaries being efected, at the given signal they stood in their places and crossed their swords, Juan more collected than his wine and anger-heated adversary, commencedon the defensive, as though merely going through the exercises w th a companion; while Liv- ingston crossed and thrust with an' angry. energy, contrasting strangely with the more careless action of his antagonist. For some time theirrglistening 'weapons wound about'leJ' other so to speak, with that grace and dexterity which bespeaks the-accom- plished s ordsman. iuan hardly pressed by his foe, handled his weapon ith greater rapidity and force, while his eye flashed with a strange and terrible meaning. The two blades clashed and grated against each other in and quick succession, when Livingston made a masterly thrust -and grazed his antagonist's side. " A hit," muttered the surrounding group. ' A mere scratch," said Juan with a fiendish smile, "take him aWy, or there will be something worse ipa moment." lie now changed his mode'f defence into a furious 'and skilfi attack, thrustind' with s a thrusting with such precision and'rapidity, that Livingston was obliged to fall back; Juan darted' forward,aid with a skilful ,movement, wretched his antagonist's weapon from his grasp. sFinish mue at once," Livingston groaied. Resume your sword," Returned Juan with a triumphant smile. Liyingston did so. Again the two were opposed 'to each other a deadly strife. Twice the cold steel grazed' uan's breast. Liv- Lngstor was b'xCding at half a doeen winds.. Feeling histrength failing fast, he thrust fiercely at Juan, regardless of the wounds hi' himself received, and at last succeeded in wanting hisweapon direct.y beneath his ribs on the left side. No sooner did Juanfeel'the pang 4 1 page: 22-23[View Page 22-23] Shoot through him, than summoning all his remaining strength, he plunged his sword into the bosom of his antagonist and fell with him to the floor. Duval sprang forward to assist his friend. 'He had already fainted, and the blood was gushing from his wound. -Two sur eons were at hand, one of them hastened tc, Juan's- side, and. while the other was occupied with Livingston, proceeded to examine the cut in his side. The blood was soon staunched and Juan was hssty~thughquietly conveoyed to a coich. "hate wound?"h qWispeid Sinor in an agony of doubt. "loangeinus, if not mortal." Replied the surgeon. Juanin a few moments more recoveredhis consciousness sufficently to articulate, SLivingston-bave I killed him ?" "Juan," exclaimed Duval, "do not speal." "But tell rpe is he dead ?"- "I do not'know, you must be quiet." -"Quiet,imPossibl6, until 'I know that he still lives." " He does." " Thank Heaven for that; 0, if he should die, I am a murderer, I am to. blame." l Hush Juan" Duval whispered, "remember it was in a duel-" A duel-yes; but how unpleasant to think of leaving the world responsible for the death of a fellow-beiig, even though he caused your own." "Juan what do you meann" *' That I feel what the surgeon would conceal from me, that my wound is rmortal and-" "No, No, it is not," Interrupted Sinclair inbroken accents, "it is pnly a slight hurt." ",Sinclair do not attempt to deceive me, foi I feel that I am'going fast--" "Nai, do not think so Juan.' "Aid Sinclair-" His voice failed. His friend trembled with solicitation, drew nearer and applying his. ear to hi lips, whispered: "Juan speak on, what would you1" " My dear friend, I have bot two requests to make, which if you love ne, on will grant- "Speakthein-" i eat In the first place, ifyuv mt man, or the resemVace or a inan, nrnmed Pierre. Verree, a man of about fifty 'years, ask him if he remembers the slave 'Virginia,' and if he betrays the least emotion, it is he." 'o hoI" The man whom 1 have sought since I have been capable of upsheathing swordshe man I have worn by all that is sat red tt hu henity to punish; the mart whom you must kill as'you would. But Juan- JUA o0,4 I -Do" not question me, but swear to -fulfil my request." "I swear." Said Duval firmly. "It is well," murmured the dying Juan. And now Sinclair,I have a secret for your heart alone. Take the locket you will find on my heart, and I need say no more, you will understand." Sinclair took the locket, opened it, and beheld her whom he had wecretely loved, Beatrite Capello. "You love her." He mu~nured. "Love h er"'Juan sighed. Ah! Sinclair, better than life." . ~And she loves you I' "I scarce can tell that she even knows of the passion that has consumed me, and consumes me still-This portrait you will keep." Duval boWed and grasped the hand of -his friend tightly in token of his consent to all he spoke. - Keep it," Juan continued faintly, "as the choicest jewel youi friend ever possessed; whenever you look at' it, you wil'remember me, and for my sake, you will regard Beatrice as 'a sister, I cansay more, do not Sinclair, forget Verree-nor Beatrice.-M y "I will remember." TU WRITS s.AI. '' ~ta urqv"Ar'Tax Xr ouwQtatX& 28 page: 24-25 (Illustration) [View Page 24-25 (Illustration) ] CIIAPTR . YALOUSY. * CONTRARY to the expectations of.all, Juan survives his wonds, For several days, he lay, so to speak, on the brink of the grave; but thanks to.the surgeon's. skill, youth, and a naturally strong constitu- tion , he slowly reeovered. Beatrice sat aloe in her luxuriantly furnished boudoir, she had for some time, indulged in deep reflection upon a subject near her heart. Thinking half aloud,.she murtngred to herself "'Tis evidentCecelia ismore to him than a mere acting companion H loves her,.-! have it. She shall ,be my rival no longer; alre Iy have we recognized each other in the protnenado. I will despatch- her an invitation to join nie in a little private, banquet. Another to Livingston willbe sufficient to secure his proper attendance. Thanks to the physician, he has at last recovered from his late severe illness, 'tis strange that Lawrence should be taken to his couch, so suddenlv.,- due though I presume, to an excess of indulgence-but to my plot, these two little mehengers will bring it to a favorable consumation, or I am little skilled. Thus saying, slie hastly despatchedd her invitations, the one to Cecelia, and the other to Lawrence Livingston; who, as has been intimated, recovered from his dangerous wounds received in the conflict with Juan. AaCordingly,-on the afternoon or rather evening appointed9 the amiable Cecelia joined the proud Beatrice inthe.hl of her father's stately mansion. Cecelia was greeted with smiles and a kiss, and cordidliy conducted to the sumptuous reception. Half an hour after, LawreiivLivingstoi attiied ala mode was admitted by the serva-nt,.and xushnere4into tie vpreseboe of the ladies. He was introduced to Cecelia, t9 whom he accorded all thesmost winsome and graceful courtisies of a finished& Chesterfield. He was indeed splendidly attired, and dIslayed a succession o the .most charming smiles, and sallies of humor and twit, he seemed . destined to, make an impression upon the too succeptible heart of Cecelia - Conversation grew lively, and bon mots gay. The banquet was arranged the exhilirating wine soon flashed fromipto lip, and added s strange enchantment to the familiar repast. Beatrice grew elated. and Cecelig languid, the wine was doing its work, wated by the' accomplished,-and lofty Beatrice. She saW her moment had come snd casting a yncaning glance at Livingston, unseenby Cecelia, excued herself for a few moments, with an easy dignity, and leaving them alone, sothebr chamber,,to feastbher jeo thoughts with a foretaste 6f revenge upon her supposed but inftocent rival. The 4 AIL A " 2 Ed uetff page: 26-27[View Page 26-27] YI~U W~a3 SLAVE I 11 1 27 5 large massive door closed after her with a sound pleasing to the ear of theaccomplished ,dvingston. When she returned,:her feigned polo was scarcely observed by Cecelia, wio hastly took her leaveof er, and with Livingston Jeflthe avengedBeatrice to her own rellcuons. In a splendid priate saloon one othe rmost fashionab e lyotels of Chestnut'street, andenvelopedI th-n o f fsigh ts so briyanly * liluminat"gI the, costly, degorte oPd,-somefive s or six-youn men of wel1 known profieienef uioyr sporting, irlesxro led rou the festive boardbeirng a'rich repast of the rnost patO belieacis of the times, and, none the leaconspceous.there ardigg their ieady taste, sets the choice charpaigne. The aartent:we say was elegantly arranged. oft brussls coyered. ,floor e ensive mirrors and costly paintings garnished yalls.;aspacious cha4- delier swung down from the;centre of richly igr4ceilgin dazzling iajesty, whileat the windows, the p$ haz Vg of purple and White, with a tasteful partfrom the centre, ibll i r ,*rg folds to the floor. Wine, wine! I wil hare'wsne And I'll drinkkto thestarson -hgh" Seethe .owo now hang like agolden gape A ripening in these y. And des 'w, ike s loody d1ew While hn f f g eat,; Wil lree andIflowetIobkpaer shdwers Aniughinqtheir.bscbannel mith." Sings ChaunOy- Btivere, a -yOung jeeller of Maret street. The rest of the compy' fat9 In' the spirit of the song, oin'in the second vese with usg Wine,*ine, arihrAM' auf now?1 Owherdis thedusky itreetI A silver rpef bapgver i,;- An4 wine is lag 6&ne hither 'i nwith d hair, Coeihithei and ,im i a , And:PIi fling at you diamond sands in sport I '1i3l you hid. 'nea he rely se~ 1 itrou a e 1il3 su ', ' lght no Hee a $untain'sp :s the gaping sword Like a pillar of gJbden *i And through it we burst, with the joy-of thirst, Till wefant in4 trade ditime." R through the saloon with a melody ardzst that would have graced with a deathless credit the voluptuous fedsts of Belshazzar the king. 0i. page: 28-29[View Page 28-29] w?8 4UwV WR E. ChaunfcylBoierwas n of thas votyod r rrd-"bloid dailed in jovial parlance, " a good, clever fellow,'tWhichoiitinghisgu-. bon companions, seemed to cancelt at least s ne cruel feature iW# bl chyaecer, that f ngleetingshisabeautifu yotugi wife; fuieir& in cup and the mid-nihtrevel Hleiwasgyouhg;bat t dnty thrc good' looking andgay. Second in theconvivial party, sang Charles Orsay, a young hatter, fond of display.-Adadshing buck of' fir complexion, though dark-eyes and hair,,easy and winning adgorss, ar beeaUse f i te (s eudy t ca e count, "ILI tor iner tdfa - Muzzy MortitiorO forrnr a in 1 father's wholesale Iron store, heai Brad stee but lutt&lolk~ ditor and proprietorsf a ~~ ap6 ,!q-t.o r t uth oU andiwentyasiudent Con 111fill i" said iir friend ivimgsoi, fi driik 'our ch rm g nettess, ' iia . Theydrpikhri" ais'suggestioiift thU Iotelforihebhhstnuj street htir6 iVlhgston: d illingtort pic'dod (hithe arm.in a Whie glig there, we n will on t '1ief description of Timothy; His utmost. height was just five feet 'si,' 4in his finest stockings, no more nor lqs*1sp figsra y, stri.attention to, the latest Parisian fashions, 49tgdet was emarkably spare, though formed to attract, Thq color ofihisihair rna1be said to have been ile medium shadq between the huQof b n a44 Well carded flax. His full locks eid'af0ed.t ths atest style of fancy- His eye brows wro abp ot4 ame oolor of-his hir, his eye lashes also, while his eyes themselves - appeared to twihkle in a color betw'xt a.blue.dh'adf .the bewx .bu and gray;~s forehead narrgwa ignd nose. he Gt66ian o d 'A hi41Siu 'm~i1restingover a ehn whch rd fia pedtible is, fn,, r eh had a peculiar delight to appear 11i i bfpt blV'ue press coat, fancy,and lilac colored k lqvesfhipken tytura; Patent leather gaiters, and a prodigious standingeopar whieiiseemd to be necessary to keep his little head ereeti surmounted Withdi ht beaver of his own peculiar shape:. A4d g talkihg valued at about --a fip," and a pair Df sagte ,agmetrne omplted Timothy's dress. In speechibe was always equsitelynice and prim. But by the time our company Weesnugl 'e'ted ine the theatre, the curtain had arisen and the Rtxe t e ot p eced. The play was that beautiful composiyi",' e M ife ,,n4fQecelia appeared, amid a arlandofflnweis9*pathechetrmi' ndennstiht "Marianna." "Is s e not ret t?" lf d10fo "sAw, pon my n iy otldsh'dor d st eauti i hair?" Returned Pillingto rBMW - en '. " Mark the noble bust, libwiripely devel6ped?i a And thhw full of, love." ,, d bfNVUa O ' Aw exquibite-and her voce., how musical and elear." - "Yes she reads beautifully-but Tim, would you not like an introduction ?" "In her company aw-if Araminta would allow it, I should feel as if in the presence of an ngel.2" "You are right, she is an angel truly.'- Aw, I shall-be most happy." "Ha. but Tim, I1 1ay you must not fall in love, if you do I shall inform Araininta-of you; so becarefdlha,'ha. "Aw, I shalitale are, you can trast nie llingten replied als he again glancedithrough. hisopra-glass at,. t 1P charms of the'leautifnl Cecelia) He now directe 'his pagnet of beauty round th6dresscirelgi and' anon 'towards the boxs, and what, was hia surprise to encoditer frem bn 'eofa a's glass pointed' directly' towards where hesat. Hewas tenfuep but tmanaged'to sinil& a recognition, and excusimg:himselfWtoLivinggpon, id entninutes A6re he was at the side of svraatchlesArat ta. She ied' tamren e fotho Theattehii1. company with herparegsbut Pillington and- hrself'very soonihad their box to themnelves alqe At the conclusion of the drama, Livingston hatened.roqltoghp e6ipany ofCen eha, whilesitnothy inhis hurried gallantry, awit waiting for the coachman to open the vehicle, seized the silver hlder with such an energy that he forced his thiib 1hroitgh he,ed his delicate lilac kid, to hiini a sad catast'opheo as he knew inot hoyto prevent the exquisite Araminta, from seeing it. Asheyrode along, and he reflected, he grew more and more excited with the unnlcasant thought yet he endeavoured for probably twetyV. uigo egteitnin 0 her with his choicest dictioki. '2 V d MAtriving ,it' heir dwelling Vt Agsehmen pppt the cbach door for them, but Timothy. tilJff edir t uren his, gkv6a sette'itptingiito'rdeend-uhapi in qrTqr. o? .# pf, Arn~ota't tepavestrdck, the czxtrxe .0 ols ent-eae,, aainst the i-aised dge of the coachmdoorPay; r eto reo e hit equilibriuniFelheadien ,tw th npvemept battle pie flew up against thbaranston oor withfaimnig ettC A r ta screamed ; Paandi Ma.arousedthy4q. ,h srp olA f hecanwagainst&,he door,:hastee 'thstreet, i tgn, t6 utig-, athered h''siu , , vexed sufficiently to curse outri, g hre mse l up4 dp 'cirefialy aseddd Wi Aratmp4giptb rc pto iu - ril 1to was wrase d .p lyj rfr pe r ~~$ quence his anticipated pleasure with the dearAranitoUt'ye fi* the veningi'his staywith her o t 99rotwr, g.A- . own . room, the reflections proved oer-whelmmg, yet~sU pp ml 4t halve soon recovered from this shock- of his nerves, occpindiy is misfortunes, had not his eye, on removing his faney 'oa 15ste upo' a most luckless aiidipradigie.s;xrsntup'the ,baok 'tom t exquisite part of the tail.theredf, to the velvet onthe collar. This was moro than his pulse could bear, and he sank back upoun his couch'completely exhausted, and declined into a raging fever. 28 291 TaN WatM SuAVz. page: 30-31[View Page 30-31] ItAa rIL CHAPTER V. WLa Several weeks after-the events related in our last chapter, Sinclair Duval was one day seated alone with Beatrice C apefo. She had - just been reading a novel of- sente agral, and the ep, passionate breathing of some portions of the'work, seemed: to sink with effect upon her heart.. Her better nature prevailed, and tears of sympathy moistened her eyes,'like listening pearls. " Ah, friend Duval" she said ashe entered her presence. "I am glad-to see lyou,I have just: been reading,; and strong mst be the passion which is triumphant even in death andwich can inspire the heart to 'struggle against dissolution, and feel itself immortal by the strength of love alone, but then Lean scarce beleive in thieexistance of iucrlove--" 'This is a rare book no doubt, for' it seems indeed to have affected you: much." " It is an excellent work,-.-" .' But Miss Capello does not believe in such love 1" Ii Fsparce cad." "Indeed 1" "Ii is so heavenly. 'Yet .1 have witnessed it in a degree." Nowdu are'i-e wiig serious-.but proceed to tell us, where, "hen; ar id n whotf, you'Witnessed iti ha, ha, ha." ' In 'a frieid, " rnd 'bnt short' time since.- I was by his side, a he lay upon his-couchAick nigh unto death, and his last thought were of one whom he laved deeply, perhaps hepelebsly." A friend did' you say 1" Asked the proud Beatrice interestedly.' "Yes,' adit is a friend of mne, too,,whom he4oved." "And ,he4 nVei knew hisentiaieits towards her 1" "He was not confident, forhe feared she might despise the ofbring of his heatt."'' " Ah," sighed tis listener, still effected by the, novel in her hand " he know , but little of woman to judge her so' She ma neglect, bit wili never despise ran's-love, even though to-the world she may appearto d&6o.'" 'Wut perhaps she hom he loved' was an exception, she night be hore cruel than hersexirgeneral; Yet she isfair and gentle, though soineims' proud. I " Do kr "heri?" "'You hlve'se rr h perhapss" Sinclair smiled. and' in confl. dence I Will "jst say that my friend, feeling 'himself about to die -rHU wiarre4Larm, Si placed in my hands her portrait, whidh he had procured tinknown to heand wore it next hisheart as a kebret treasure." Have-you it now?'A ,,I have-*.it is thi*.'" Reireplied, prodcing a locket. "Would ou see it?" "Ah, if it shouldOrotethe likeness of one Iknow, I fear that I could nerer look upon her again, without' ri'arding her as unnatural and cruel." " But you forget, she -knows. not the ientimeints of his heart. Sinclair placed the locket in her hands, she opened it, and behold minmature' of-herself 'A sudden Aush of inward pride cast a Crimson tingeiover-her face. "How is this ?"-explain-" In the fist place, you miist know my friend though dangerousI wounded, did nbt die."' Sinclair began, pleased with the efrebt 6 his disclosure upon her. "Well-".what you have said is all true?" "Every word, I caneassure yroui,-helives, and loves*younstill." The proud Beatrice ,hd arisen td her feet, and was thouightfully pacing the richly furnished apartment,1ith a beautiful and' quenly attitude, - .Sinclair, i confidence, bring this gentleman to me,-his name is Juan, is it not P" "The same, fairlady." Sinclair answerdd; with evident pleasure. "He is known to fame, IbelieVe "P " He is--i the tragicinu 64-should n6t the fair dauibMr ofSignr Capello, object." Rereplied withgra eful'deferefice.- "fI would see hinm here; list Sinlair, you ill hot abie fidence?" ' "Kihal Beatticeehinae "You'will bgig himr' at you eatliesi'IleaIe 1f "'He will be 'tejbicea' to ear do'fa4orabi from' 6u, tnen, adieu." "Sinelair waved, his hand, bowed to her gracidsaly, and sted int the street; and lIastined'i thidugh the i-oaded th'rouhare towards the apriiehtk of iis frindtolad n t e of her kind invitttion.d d "She loveso" he laiwnea breakingabily hapait rt- ment of lhis fneniid." " ei bygyoi W deahided 'd his sygar ith1 tt" You cannot mean-, "The proud Beatri& Caplkl, I asstie you. "But how '-is it possible.-my dear Sir, areyou sira of wht you say-? . "Withont'the' slightest doubt." "But how did you learn such news I" "Juan, I haye cause for apology, and beg your a on feing page: 32-33[View Page 32-33] guilty of an mdiiscretio~n, though perh~ape whenyuu know my motives and my success, Lfeel assuredayou will forgive mne-" " What mean you, Sinclair, I cannot afiderstand you ?'. Juan claimed,.quite pale~and claspihgtheshatli of. hin friend still tighter. 8inclair then related all that had passed between him nxid Beatrice Capeilo. Juanelistened:eagerly, hritsrnge.hewinteligee seemed rather ~o cause hlim pain than nplaure. As -his friend concluded his brow-gathered darkly and'his features became pale with agitation. " Ah, Sinclair," said h in $empwlous tones. "You have done wrong, but you thought to do me a service, and I forgive, aye, thank you'foriit." - ' For thp Jove qf heaven, Jpasn aresygu nedi? explain yourself." "Not mad." Returned Juan with a melaneholy smile, but unfor- tunate. 'The thought of being beloved by; them proud and noble Beaticepapllo wgldaakemy heart leap for joy, did I not fear ga ninnext toi mosbe As t s;the'4rl of pleasure ia accompanied with a thrill of pain." This but astonished the noble Sinclair the ngre, and, he exclaim~ed: - T~or Heaven's sake Jpani explain this mystery.? Beatrice loves you, and you. love her; in sqeiety are you. ot equals ? :Then What is there, what can there be, o prevent your union?" "Have you not thought l"-my profession. Signor Capelloeis proud, of. noble ,birth; 'and. will not 'hastily wed his daughter sto a mere artist of the drama, his ambition is more lofty, he looks higher fo* the man whonphe shall call his son, the led of his daughter;' ".Juan you may mistake the opinionsp1f Signorfapeg~o, and you farges hat. thoug ,aigahwmbleartist, you hay.. cqwiired fame, and not only so, but.anet er.exyta no zocessity fqr yowr longer .ontingaane tagt stage; yourpi.iion wth he Cpelle family wpuld prove but the signal of your retirement from your profession." " Sinclair you speak fine, is that not ae studied Qpeeche 'Ha, ha, you really force me tp, laugh,)g tbi AntoniQ Capello has lineal prejudices, .whiefrwogld. ideed mpar, #f not antiely prevent my union with lhis only daughter." "Sinclain, Ia n ver pokess the hand of ldeatrice, without rveingthe secret of mytbith azgd that nce known to her father, hie is far too proud to accept me as a member of his gf~mily, True I might, ary ;her prhaps wiggut* eveig. thAe jgget,futto36 so would be :shonoraiblen mme, .O1 Oh~t Ad never Jayed[~ While .luan.s~ }eps trnp gr-eoding~ )e mipu of hiis friend. 'Curiosify to'know te preise secret-to which Juas alluded, and pity for ihis upotgt position, in bitter reflections mnngled in his breast. *'"Juan," said he aftei- a painful pause. "May I not assa friend ask the secret, which you say prevents your,-union with Beatrice ?' " Have you not divined it ?" "12How could 1?" " Do you not rehlnnber hearing me *peak of one Peirre Verree." ready to overlook 'die circ~Imstaunces " Ah, if I could only hope that noble-.hearted as you but you must him; and how can)'getlthp " Then we ilegt(Sje your nature; and theaif~ $& 82 JUAN OR r t,REJyou~te swrnit8 nish ?AV " The same." 1 ' - And who is he 1" - My father." Juan answered with a quivering voice, and covered his face with his hands... A " Your father-and you have sworn to take his life." " I have sworn to be revenged on him." " And for what ?" " A wanton and vicious act, thie murder of his slave, Virginma, and for abandoning eseeke gffspring of)en 4/msedq.a"? Duval rere ia '~t atgs metnilla4eyer sus-. pected such a secret'of his friend (as4now the statligganelnzt came upp O ig gg~c+kg.pf 4* page: 34-35[View Page 34-35] Hope on, hope ever,' Sinclair smiled,"I mean not for * lo Bac but for the lovely Beatrice." CHAPTER VI. a Wellu'Pillington how' is your health to day 1". d'Haall Linivmgston, 'Mr. Moiinores talk in alk i prety well, {thank you, glad to se you, welk in " Was the substance of the getting with which the latter tio' named} gentlemen, entered Timothy's r6orri at the Oontinen al, on a fige afternoon, about four o'clock, ' Heowlhave yon passed the day Tim 1" Asked Liingston, s4tg down, adprfering Mortimore a seat; rain hrh self perfectly at " a " 'A ' to f 1 r -6 6 f l l c O, fineine, otigh as yoasee Iain a ittle atewiti iy toilet, howet , I did net rise this-morning until eleven' o'clock. But what de yoguF'think gent' of mynew'doeskins? the first time'I've had. them on? . « They set beaudifuliyparticularly over the boot, and not a wrinkle in'the 4eg' to 'rriarther shining blackiess Tim they are lend d: Who's your'tailor te Charles Stokes.' ' "Thep ruice of lothier H o* 'y~o 76 li.e thie vest? "Ahnikw'style hti' double breasted, lappelled'pockets, and plan buttons-.-" . a . A shiale-b dests ie hee~rhi gr'- , O It has. take "iiid ome tiur"t deide which raat to wear; white is besutifdl, bitdt fias 'ownso' dommod, that the veryservants, waiters inhe Hdtsa, all white drawats; an infridement upon us, aw, that oh no d bt toleaed 'on rmy sd however I hare conbiuded to don my sy6tesS bl VA" L e, my toilet is done how doyou lie t -seethe hair'parte Ieliat 1ibehilid t' . , "0'yc ;fac y, Ti u you're nikaed ladies Mali.' "JHa,ha~ aw,'ohrn a m o i u fittetrie Mortimore.' oflattery-ut Tx how is MISs Araririnta?"" O;chirtnirig,e halil see' hi- this afternoon on the p omenade ''is now past four o'clock. Why 'pon 'm oul, Livingston, there she is now, on'rthe otiler side, an =in her fei silk dress,what a charming white'Sto ache 7 ,ard hat{a sweet'hiead-dress: See the gems deher b re a io theyglisten, ahd indikthe diam9ndE o i her tapering fingers, thi;dter je1led ey hi she not 4cpr I THiE Wk1ts'LAVL 85 Besides, she's an heiress, ha hay ten thousaiid'a year, 'pon my soul Ah Mort, no need of the profession -,thenw iy'1 shdll be}able tol import ill'xby coats from Paris. Is she not acharming'girl? But come we must enter upon our walk,; and perhaps join her'." So saying, he drew on his fitiesL:coat, carefbllyplaced his hat on his head, drew on his -lilac kids, put on his gold spectacles, took' down his cane, and stood before the glass a.feWrminutes to arrange two or three disordered hais, and announced. himself ready to decend. They stepped' into the corridor or hall, but ere he closed the door, Pillington instinctively returned to the reflector of beauty, the glass. Replaced his hat,' arranged his spectacles, properly -ove his eyes, brushed 'up-his hair again, and rejoined his companions on the; verandah ner 'the street, .They were soonmingled with the crowd of gay- pleasure-seekers of Walnut and Chestnut' streets Passing down Walnut street, they saw Adelia and Louda Duval, just comingout, they bowed " weetly," as Timothy afterwards'remarked and Livingston and Mortimore' joined them, while Timothy himself, passed on, and' soon enjoyed theninexpressible pleasure of joining Araminta. How his heart palpitated, he colored and looked Inter. esting. They walked together most lovingly, the " observed' of all observers" Ai-aniinta was one of those amiable and accomplished creatures, whose beauty'consists of',il the 'varied-accomplishmentse of the drawing-room and parlor,-Dress, Music, Drawing, Italian, and French, etc., ,,The artifiials; to the negleet of what is really- refining and useful Durign'the pleasant: promenade, she informed Timothy with-the most facnating witchery, of the color and style of dress, shewould appear in, at'the Operatefollowligevening. He smiled interest dly, and whispered to hetof 'several young ades of ibis acquaintance, whopwould be;:resent, but whoweresO iinitely inferior to her.- She azed into his face,sdexquisitely bewitdhingly,thatihis enchanted{ feelings'getting almost beyondhis contro, he could scarcely reftaii fromaskingihera veryimportant question, but the 'thought that her property might be rnortgaged,{intruded itself, placed the momentary quietus upon his feelings;: andifmparted a more"judiciois tone=tohis matriimonial calculations. They walked until the hour .of widhen they parted,.andhe turned t ardsr the Girard'Hodse3thatspalace of luxury and comfort. Etiitg -his 'room, he carelessly threw himself upon thecouch, and' fellIaway'into the followinig"in sirg- "4Well, Ar minta is a gduh, wit{eut mistake, she hairproaised ne her hand 'that's true; tre she will b rihe, but:then it will 'require some time yet, and my pursehneedskeplenishing. -I mst ontrive some way to satisfy the painful oid:i:ft has a' doleful 'ingle and shows' a very gaping' moth. Pe haps kLivingston or Mortimore would help me, I will try them. But, thank fortune, I have at least one more pair'of patents lijftyet+± -' ;" . ,{ The gong souriding'for-teat iteruptedd him.a Livingston, M'izzy Mortitnore and the Durals were in company but a very short time, when they seperated, in fact their ,acquaintance 85 page: 36-37[View Page 36-37] wpqggiimaeodenta1, mrepver their f egned attention was anything but_ agrpeshle 4qthe accomplished ls Lavrenee Livingston has airea ybeen34deribed, but of Lusi cizrnore.e wg.ave yet a word to say. In height, 1MiysyystQdprol4akly fe feet six or seven inchesieinfqature nfopufed teux ei cong t, his hair curly andshort,; forehead:narrw:and TrawirNgat thea basthof which a pair of-rcold grey y, gleamed aroud 1 oa all creatioxi with spec.- ulative and ounfeelingridicule; his nasaA organ wasneither sharp nor-aquiline,. thovgh;partaking of as mixture of a certain species of the eanireace, ofauima s ternedweheleive, the bull pup. Of his mouth, chinetc., we willisay nothing', bt on each cheek bone, he sported a smalltuft of hair; -tended forwhisers., Such.s the facial outline of the blackmdutbed poel that PAce trotted ovrthe good city ,f:" brotherlylove," inquest of 'Items(r~is, six by nine, tweekl Y sheet.: . - -- . Wecanno4;sta to descrihe avehemence with whichbhrough. the extensivey ,ireulate, columns of 'the" Eye behind the Scenes,' he pitchedinto those poor unfortunates, who " strutiand fret," on -the stag ..Iso'nd they -ngt pro-sufficiently liberal towards him to purehase:a" ritjcal and favorable" pub,";i ftheir varied merits as . accurate deliniators of:tthe Comie o the Tragicmuse: It rattered notto him, how weak thevictim of, his-hategmight be, his presumption was'unlihit all came i for a shares efhi sean4al or i ridicule --from :ihe mnan of generic utiltyseiesspp to. theorrable lessee,. though his giant influence was of hurcuian atrngth, yet Muzz'a hardyeimpudone prompted the puny attempt to bring even hiat1riidpulrad pblie censure.,l1 .HUutWitW 0 t 4heftern o-a tbe dy fQ nJlihgtons last interviewiwit b Arinsa that a Inw tendingg at ;t w1 9W of his-roonag looking Qi4 t 4 atIiig4eji ngtrierable gIoyfales fall iletly t1 epa erI9tIoptgheow.he aw i Aag s ' "i 4,eiam w g eorrnly:,frth ,,bn g eand dregs." Hleub1chim quite aloud 'with surpri s dAseizif)g. his green umbreili3e ,e tend -to,;theti t grvid rsoon .bray s hr,,.though I not .utilirn his precipiation, :in sceding~tlhe vera ah hed upset. th& uahan ,who, without thegos Iege p1f the~fact stood in'his 'Waly.- Butt heaised eFbrawti n grecn,' g{Yep;th fastidious Ararnhit :fheypefceived for the firsa i . that it wi)s far too small in cir coif regge tuhke bpt , sqeqmpurche dwith the view o hlboWleiiuiutire siZggy ogwcrtheeis brigne good g aY i'R aceditedt jK' igt p, f n hpi sawt was too sielfon boug he did :t gapeii bumpkn, nor-apoeogzo like a -l~oIl, aheafthrards rp arksdfson people are so absurd,-- but. he; shieldedher with it- from the- snow, and went himself anpretected -t# -.- On the following day Livingston Mor#imore and rillington were, again in company at the latter's room, In the course of their re- trospective -dialogue; Pillington recounted the following, as occur- . ring in the dusk of the evening previous. " A LVE2S SAfer'I hiadt eoinated Ararriita to}her.door,'and, 'aw received hei leasant smile; I -vag reitiirig t my -rn and *hen-en ing up Chestnutstreet near Fourth,my eyecaught aglimpse pf a peunaivl~y worded sign. The sigri-itselis shaped tnethri g lik ig edge, the larger portion of it being secured agahi t the ii i tapering off to a sharp pointh ai ot ovei'tle tf 6 do6i 6 o id three feet in length. On one side of the sin, w t-itfgdr gof.lage "Eye,"iindtider it th*ot'd," tI bhrida" Myfutiosity was up at-its highest dag tnil aadcaiaefulty(forit! Mas iy and slippery,)"kaysed to t th erwside on'which1 whethe wordpf Look to your sigl*."' I drewforth my glass, smyvspecti les ant being sufficient,and while r bthaid'wa* et in diyatce o pd kfet, slipped on the icy pavement, and fell my entire length in the snow. In::a moment I was assisted to myfeet',by, a 'smiillbey, an attendant at the store, and' who- it akearsaaw metfall I'fll hard, andwhen I regainedrmyfeet, could Srcely statid. AA bid gentle manprpietor of the stoirI believe, alsd hastenedtov assist me, folloted-ebytwo or three females of the store; but the gentleman stepped 'il'tdo little care, in his officious zeal, slippecdWpiabd 1ell adI;indt the'ybung lady next'to-him; she fell against the Iecnd lady, whoilling also brought the third somehow or other, about my feet, and 'de piteI of the efforts' ofny:judveiassiStanwetbothwerit'dowi on b thenow covered iee,-and Ythee we yiale a4idi fernaley ih. akindcof pro- miscuous heap, incapable for some minutes, of unlocking and helping ourselves. During Timothy's affected recital of his mishap, brought on by old Soloman Winkle's ancient sign, Livingston and Mortimore roared with laughter. "Ha, ha, ha," laughed Mortimore, " I witnessed similar scenes there, in front of old Winkle's, the optician's door, on several occa- sions, that sign of the 'Eye,' and 'See the other side,' has proved the means of bringing many a well enough disposed ,person in heavy contract with the pavement in slippery weather. And do you know' Pillington, it was that very sign, that partially suggested to me the title of my paper ?" " Two copies of which I had in my pocket when 1 fell,and which. I have lost, as well as cracked my glasses." " Ha, ha, better for the business of old Winkle ; Now you must take them, and have him repair or exchange them for you." "Aw, I would do so, but I would not meet the gaze and encounter the merriment of those vixen girlsagain for a new pair of, glasses; I would not 'pon my soul." " But Tim," spoke Livingston, "you haven'ttold us yet altogether how your fall ended ; How did you regain terra firma ?" " Well, that I can tell, precisely. I was assisted by some one, I know not who, but finally we all stood upright once more, and after a great deal of bowing, courtesing and scraping, the ladies hastened into the store, the old gentleman and boy followed slowly and I-left. I believe none of us were very"'seriously hurt, only I was awfull= nlbrtified. extremely mortified. 1 was indeed." ., . } ' page: 38-39[View Page 38-39] 38 - JUAN-.OLD -TUWlICsa "It was a provoking, though, ludicrious scenes in which to be a anwilling actor, particularly in one's finest broad-cloth." Said Muzzy. "Yes, and as is always my fate, I burst my panteloons in both knees. Pillington reptied. Bythe .way, Tim, you go to the Opera to-morrow night?" Questioned Livingston. . "I do, of course.; and should like to eo you both there.", - Of that pleasure you shall not ;be denied." "Araminta and I shall occupy a private box, already engaged. Ah,:Mortimore, Arry is angelical. I know a number of young ladies by whom I am constantly admired, there is Laura, Ida, Wilhelmina and-" .. - - - .. 'Cecelia-" suggested Livingston. . "She is beautiful, but there is none to equal Araminta. Ah, I wish you coutd see dud appreciate the languid sweetness with which she pouts those ;incomparable cherry lips of hers, and she calls me her ' pet." "And Poodle," laughed Muzzy. "No, Mortimore, aw, you mistake, she does call me her ' pet,' and lap-dog.' He went to the Opera, and had a delightful talk with Araminta. who whispered from behind her fan and said, "it is very warm." ' CHAPTER VII. THu DU;(oU5EMxr The father of Beatrice Capelle was a man,who had seenperhaps fifty winters-.-proud, passionate andheadstrong' During his youtn he had heen guilty of nearly, or quite all :of thediolissywhich have been so frequently encountered in tho; wealthy, biat unprin- cipled and licentious. He marriedhappily, but hi domestic happiess was ng4.destined to flowof without interruption, for scarcely hadihe tasted of its delights, when the partner of his bosom died, leading him as, a pledge of departed affectiQn; Beatrice an only child. He did not marry again, but the remainder of his life seemed devoted -to the happiness and improvement of Beatrice to this:he eolecrated his leasure and his fortune. It;seemedhischief delight to see hergrow up under his personal, cars, to watch thetdevplopment of her mental and physical powers; and now that ahe had become a woman, ab his happiness seemed centered iii her, as before ithad been centered .in her mother, whose image was so like hers. -,It has been said, that love is the business of woman'ss life, but only an episode in that of man. The love that Beatrice possessed for the aoble; Juan, was indeed .her daily; business ; while . Juan's, if an epiode only, it proved the absorption of=his entire better ,nature. He was.in her company alrnost daily.. And itwas several weeks after their first-interview,.that on the afternoon' appointed mutually by them, that hand in hand, and with eyes beaming unutterable - affection upon eaph other, they entered her father's library, to receive his kind approval' and blessing. upon their anticipated uniop., Ard strange, that very day, more forcibly than at any other. time,;Signoi Capello, was absorbed in revolving through his mind,the ,ncoequer result, and real propriety of Juan and his daughter's frqi ent inter views. He had but of late, noted the deep attaghmezgfwhich they seemed to possess for each other ; and began to reflect upon the propriety of giving his, only daughter to one, who in fact, ss yet seemed to him, but little more than a stranger. To his dislike of the prfessign.-he kner"thep were a few exceptions, and ,if:Juan shout ;proyeof birth sufigeigtly noble h piessionwlwikch could easily be dropped, should not rilitate against him, if he rely loved Beatrice. Atonia's mind thus already weling upon th subject. hough little thinking their request so near, soon recovered from thenomen- tary surprise which .their entrance,-and his _daughter's words gave hiun. istening to her goxifession, that she loved the man whose hand she clasped before him, and had come, desiring his blessing o.n their betrothal. He looked on tliemn a moment, with all a fther's - " - sa . {, .r . .s. * I , K. . ' - Y ' + a ;a M TSB WHITE sLAVB. page: 40-41[View Page 40-41] '40 J VAXO~ tenderness, then bade her leave him a few moments of private con verse with Juan. Down cast and reluctant she obeyed, and returned to the parlor, having Juan and her parent alone-. Soon as sIhe retired, Capello was the first to speak, and addresing himself to J an, said: ' "You will not condemn a father's care for his only child-yon will pa d thist firyou will allo i an right )inendedbri n to mtke nfselfequainted as)ful1 yas possibleerelthe die is cast; with. the4fiawrhcmt Ilshill bail fhy -6n .'Allow ine;it Juan to ak you of voulr nily Pdesdent . {. . ;, An itwadtremiling, wlddhhe was scarcely-able-t ondeeal, i eied J an at thi, but with a degree,'of'nRmingled ae pondpheyand 2" To thine Signtr Capell, I1 had na e up ra4 trdten hinatly inobl ) ybti f a1befoe I would wed Beatrice, Yg r'lovely daughter. But alagriow'Ifear jf j do' sI cap never cla t her' as'ybnride.* '" keakn b y; your}honesty, is' at least -one' good feature'in your dPtraetee fbr 'which Inlready feel a:strogri tarest fdou Ak eni.E The 61d gentleh ai r lied;;anxiously. jT''be frank;'Signor'Capello, I am anorphan, and it gives mn pain, alas, to revert to -her days of ?nhy sufferings and deep won gs"- butide-shallR knoW'thern.' Alas, ignOr' I know not tny fath&-w I diyknof-". " " ' ' ' "'s4a' 'Cdapellostarted aid turned t le. -Perhaps' the reclleetih of lh youthful ies ciosed hil brain, o lit 'may{be;"that hid rgardfot uati wrdh nge&to contempt With his armsfolded oii hi breast Jua t sat ttid Wafcled inisilence the 'eaet of hi or&fes'i6 upon the highthiiided ighaor,who glaricing-at hi with a uitened silence "Do youem enber your nthet ?" 'd ,Signor. NShe is dead ilow" IA Mnefeniidered; "IC Sha was whipped, sa that she'died.' iYof are not an' Aniericacn, then-+-you were not born in this bndgworb y6u ?" " t'-I'wd boiri inCo umbia, thpc:aprtaif ii6 state of South iritpna, and it the tha t h ii dcordande ith r artielfather's' dirtns, ahd for i'i uted cime onlf,'my mothe'rorshipped, dfte Which, lie sqld me, with a small sister, to the proprietor of an adjoining planitiotnand lervi ig us thus, inbondage foelife fled, ne i ould Thenyou are a siav, bf birthI'and, ankno you can;t 'be an Africad n'uare too'light." C+apello hissed; rather thar spoke. "you 'hrb dale-fhorror trdc1,ii see,bnt . ", t+esn I wasirnsedvCapello hvig ine +rh .odmyl "Yes, I was born a slave, but having . since purchared myself T WUIr Mavs. 41 from those who aimed me, I:am now free. My mother was a Quadroon, owned by my father, who was a white man; in the finding of whom I intend to spare no efiorts; not to claim hini as a father, but to take revenge on him, for my own and my mother's wrongs. Such Signor Capello is, my short but humiliating history." Juan walking to and fro, excited by the'consciousness of his own degradation, paused, and concluded-'- " And now I ask you, Signor:Capello, frankly, can you grant me your daughter's hand in marriage 1" Antonio Capellostupitied with horror, made no reply; but remained gazing on the agitated Juan in silence. " Speak !" cried Juan earnestly, " can she be mine?" CapCllo pressed his trembling hands over his brow, and in a husky voice answered: " Oh, impossible ! Juan no longer hoped; yet the painful, interest that Capello had taken'in him, appeared to allow him room to question further, and he inquired: " Why.impossible u*She is-oh Heavens, yes, yes I will confess it-" " Thdn speak ; she is-" "Your sister." " Mly sister !" -- Yes- am'Verree, your father." Juan for a moment, in turn, was stupified and speechless;' while his glaring eyes, fixed on the speaker, seemed in their intensity of gaze, to be starting from hid head. He was startled as if just awakening from the embrace of a viper. At length. the spell was broken, and stepping abruptly before the Signor, he ejaculated: " Did I hear correctly, Signor Antonia Capello ? Did you say you are my father ?" "1 i." Said Capello calmly. " Then hear me," said Juan in a changed and passionate voice. -- I have said. I would punish the oppressor of my mother;for he acted basely, inhumanly, and Signor if you are he, I insult and defy you on the spot, I hesitate not.to call you murderer." " How !" .eried Capello starting to hig'feet, and im- eptibly -drawing a knife from his inside pocket, and secreting 'and "You are a cowardly'villian I!" Eelaimed Juan fiercely. The quick,firery bloolofrage, mounted toCapllo's broW, and trem- bling in every muscle with passion; he strode furiously towards Juan raised his hand, but ere his heavy blow descended upon his son, lhe strangely restrained himself, white with rage,'and quivering in every fibre of his body, he hissed: "Young Man, I see you would'seek a qutirel with nie but insult me as you will, I cannot forget that I tan you 'father.''' ' Ha, the memory of the ,relationship returns upon you at a mest happy moment since you dian use It as a Smoothl"excuse for v cowardie. But why, may I ask, did you-not think of this 4 page: 42-43[View Page 42-43] A 42 ,tANRo my mother was groaning in the agonies of death, beneath the bloody lash, and when your son, as you now call me, toiled and wept be- neath the gallingoppression of slavery.? "Your son!!" continued Juan, striking the table fiercely, "and for that very reason your mortal enemy. And now that I .have found you, my-own and ,my mother's wrongs shall not go un- avenged." "Juan, calm yourself;" said Capello, quite recovering his self- possession. " This is a subject that shouldn't be handled rashly. In thefirst place;consider that in spite of all your taunts andin- suits, I will never raise my hand against youl" " Because I an your son,) and becnase you regard me with pater- nal tendernes" said Juan, with a most withering sneer. " I repeat it, I will never fight with you; I will never take your life-murderer though you call me, neither shall you take mine, nay do not start, but ,hear me; I acknowledge that I have done wrong, and that you have a perfect right to hate-to punish me ; if Heaven wills, I will die, but not by the hand of a son." "If Heaven wills it--" " Yes, if Heaven wills it, I will terminate 'my own existende--- punish myself." Hesitating a moment, Juan gazed intently into the calm, plot- ting face of his father. His eye caught their figures reflected in full length and' outline, in 'a massive, Spanish mirror, which extended nearly the entire length -of the room, immediately before thom Juan advancing to the old gentleman's side, said:- "Signor Capello; deign to cast a glance in that splendid reflec- tor there ?" Instinctively, as it were, Capello's eyes sought the glass. He looked, and saw his own, and his' son's countenances and forms reflected side by side; in every lineament, and in every feature, how. like each other? Both beheld a remarkable resemblance. To the parent it seemed an unpleasant "reflection," and his brow lowered as Juan continued:- " see,,old dotard, how like each other our faces are? in truth, though born a slave, my skin is as fair, as white as -thine. So you 're my father, the author of my degradation and slavery, the oppressor and murderer of .my mother ?" He grasped the old man by the hand. Capello writhed, and twisted and'struggled to unloose the death-like hold of his aveng- ing song--his hand was on his thoat. "Yillain1" cried Juan, in revenge, "your game. is played." Capello grasped for his knife. "You destroyed the mother, and now by treacherous;plotting would kill;the son, but amid the ex- posed fragments of your hellish scheme, broken into as many atoms as your vast refleetor. Die'! no longer call me son." Saying whieh, he with the redoubled strength of despair and revenge, hurled him into the centre of his massive looking-glass, I Tr W SLAVS. 48 breaking it into ten thousand peices, and cutting .im in a shocking manner about the head and face. The alarm occasioned by the crash, was immediate and astonishing. Capello hallood\ " Murder !" and Beatrice screamed,."&tIjhthlp," hie Pilington, who, in making his rounds, had called in to see her, while Juan and het father were together in thea iary-rightged beyond his wit's ends, sprang to his feet, seized his cane, and in delirious amazement, whirled its around ad;e q. his ea 4 ximed with 'tragic vehemence : .Aw, goodness gracionu, what eapbe the rnwtt wesa all be killed.- Watch,wat h re are th oQlicear jQ, oodnes, We -shall be kille4'pn mysu. He. raa the street, wr pg,, afh d i.hi in e i rjent, and battered the lage dooiwihAsas can until U10 a ter ew frrzn his hand in'splintersawse a a p nd. dowt vernn front of the house, exclaiming: "Murder murder I where's the officers? we shall ald e killed? For a second he paused,,aslf to think an4 e extmoment, he was not to be foundwithin ateast four squares Calip's mansion. lie fled, muttei b bitterlaie stations concerning the irreparable loss of his little cane. Whein the raceumpidgQwdsp[ alarmed citizens burst into the rer, yfop tlfp r~rdstpill .stru gdorftheeastery. Fortunately, Juepa ns uarie4. He was removed, and hld under arrest by, tre opera&uthorities, until Capello should sufficient recover from several contusions about his head, to institut hw charge agais t"langry :,an' I; ,t 6 . " page: 44-45[View Page 44-45] rHE WIT SLAVE CHAPTfER VIII. Eythe promptitude and-friendly devotion of Sinclair Duval, Juan was allowed his conditional liberty on bail. S$everaF aays subsequent td hi s Orbial& interview with his best friend, 4n'which he informed him to his ttter'astonishment, of the 'late discovery of, his father-he wa' seated in= social converse with the aiable Gcelia 'He 'enteredoher presence, in the profoundest goM and seri6usnegs. Sitting d4o*n byr her side, he gave-vent to his overcharg mfueelimgs in te lanuHe of Hamlet'. soliloquy, commencing:x "To"be, rnot to be, that'i the queetto. Whetheiti nobler in the ind to suer, *te usings .&;i1 arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take up aras against A sea of troubles, and by opposing, end them-" "'well, I 4e are Juanyou are' a waysgIoomy," Ceceliainter- rupted him laughing, "what neW troubles ave you met with now ? talleng about suicide tob.,Why Juan'to say the least you canriof 1ts doiyou not think that suph is never the mind of hero; Despair never enters the mind of 'a true hero. Be nMerry aimd augh here you are inclined to weep, be a conquerertin life's busy'? strife." 'Indeed Cecelia, it gladdens me, I assure you,6to find yon in such a merry mind. Your advice is congenial, healthy and good. -'Tis cowardly, unmanly to despair; But, by the way, is this the careless manner, in which you allow your jewelryto lay about ?", And he took up, and opened a beautifl gold encased medallion. " Heigho," Cecelia sighed, in confusion and heaviness, " a likeness. of a dear absent one. Humph, the recollections associated with the picture will make me sad." "It is a pretty picture ; may I ask of whom it is a likeness ? Not yourselfr.-though to confess the truth, it resembles you closely." " Oh Juan, do not questiorr longer upon a subject entwined with the tenderest chords of my}heart; for touching but one disturbs all; calling up a'train of reflections, shrouded in sadness. And yet to tell the truth, it is a subject of which I have often thought I would like to tell you. 0, that I might possess wholly to myself your generous confidence, for gay as you may sometimes find me, yet rest assuredJuan, I have my pensive moments as well as you, I am sad now, your questions have called up a succession of thoughts, which will make me sad the remainder of the day." " Cecelia I regret that my thoughtless interrogations should be the cause of your present gloom and pain." f t v 44 4 manU on% 40 1 s "Juan, you at least, are not at fault.: These sad recollections, will intrude themselves, at times 'upon my gayest moments," Cecelia, I. regret you are unhappy, but if you deem me in the least worthy of your confidence, and ifthere is any sarifice that I can make or you, tell .me all speaking may relieve you." Can you keep a secret, Juan inviolate?" iI can."= t. at{ " " Never to reveal it, never to prove recreant to the sacred trust reposed in, you?"!:,Spoke -Cecelia,) talmnly_, Not if the Heavens should fall." .an aswered, y, a raising in calm composure hisright hand towards Heyer Then you shall know the secret of my life. .Thetpicture you now hold in your hand,4is the likeness of nmy brother, who is now dead.It was :penciled: and presented to her, before she came to America." "She was-" Paused Juan reviewing.the portrait. " A beautiful, Quadroon," Cecelia answered, "malesticand beau tiful as ever reole was; but she was-Juan on your solemnaverment that you;will lock the secret-tightly in ,your breast ?" "I will," he.exclaimed almost breathless withattention aniterest. "She is dead you say. "Yes-" "Well ?"" "She was unfortunately, the property of.a wealthy 'Plant of S Jago de, Cuba." "9His name " - I almost forget. It has been sQ long since I have heard it. Ilut . he removed to.South Carolina, and I was their born-a slave" Burying her face in her lap, she murmured; r "And I had a brother." She sobbed- convulsively her deep consciousness of her haplea degradation. Bitterest tears bedewed her face, beautiful even with the infamous brand of slave. " Her death-was it natural ?" Juan stammered; deeply affected with interest in her sorrow. "It was not; He afterwards hated her, and upon, some frivolous charge, had her punished, so that she died." "Her name was-" "Virginia !" Replied Cecelia, starting up at his changed and strange manner. He was painfully excited, and while the large. drops of perspiration oozed through the pores and stood outon his forehead, and face in chilling. drops, he trembled ;aid groaned: "Oh, Virginia-my sister--my poor mother !" lie fell It' the floor, by the side; of hissister,- where, by a nuifber ,f disconnected sentences, Cecelia understood.tat he was indeed, her long lost brother. Heihad changed hisname, which ith otleeipunangs contributed to keep th pr niojv to each other. until this lstidis. closure. Their ,tears opf iexpressible joywere mingled togeter in one soothing balm of consolation and relief. It was some tiae, page: 46-47[View Page 46-47] d6 JUAN OR, era both recovered from the' sheck; and when they did revive, the clasped each other in a long.and-efectionate embrace.-: When at length they beamesufficiently composed to converse more atisftctorilytedfree; there byansbethought which still embittered thepeculiarjyoftheunfortunateteelia. Itwas herlate acquaintance with the fashionableroueLarenseLivtidgstonr The sadremembrance started her tears afresh. But when she again grew calm, Juan affddtim ly aid :-:....S "Cecelia you are aware, hoWthat from the moment I first learned of yot riiray'with Livin gston, havebeen-pained deeply to know the fact of your acquaintance with One who is so far beneath you- in ev&y viw, and whom I have held in contempt- for so long atime. But Ceceia nd! that we know each other in a different and more endearing Ilation -Brother and Sister)-it is natural that I should feel a still greater regard for your happiness and welfare 'through life-a stronger interzst"in asking you to? discard the company of Livingston, to hun himi as- you would a venomous }reptile, that has alreadf'at tempted the life of your broth.: -But I forget, I should not spea so now. Cecelia yo will think more of this ?" "Broter as this so, Livingston has assaulted-ua j ; Oh, would to Heaven, I had never known him. May .the lightning fledged pinions of God's retributive wrath arrest, and bring him to a quick accunt. The brand of the infamous Cain, be indelibly stamped in lines 'ofIiq is flame upon his brow, that he be an outcast and a vag- abond on the earth." "Howmy sister, why this sweeping annathema ?" "ie has'assailed you,;and wronged 'me deeply." She replied'in a faltering' voice. "Wronged my sister !-oh ! alas! I feared this,-found my sister but to avenge her ! He would Eate hUstily left the apartment, but the tries of anguish frm' Oeeliadstahied him for several minutes, during which time she prevailedupon him not torush precipitatelyinto danger. Hegrew more composed, but eqtdlly firm' ii his resolution of revenge. Retaking iis seat by her side, she now, in answer .to'his questions;informed nhn of the tiantier in highh she gained her libertyfrom bondage. Said that after she had been engaged-at one of' the largest hotels of Charleston .city, a Mr. Linford of Baltimoreseemed to take au irifere$t irfher, and erc he left 1fir hischoine, he purchasedher and' took 'i with' him. Arrived in 'Baltimore,,and'scarce twelve months after'he hod purchased her, he was taken severely ill, and in a short time died. On his death bed and'nearly the last thing he said, he in the pesence of witnesses spbkb her free. After the death of her master, she choose to remain with her mistress, for a considerable tiee, whom she liked very mich, and front whom she received. a tolerable education.' But her mistress soon followed her master, in death, and thus she was thrown upbri herself for support. She conceived and cultivated a taste for thue public stage, and thus while 1 THE WHITE SLAvE. aiming at excellence in the tragic art she found her way to Philadelphia. She had scarcely concluded, when they were both startled by 'a rap at the door. Cecelia knew thp sound, and trembling with ear was silent. Withoutrmuch delay, however, and without awaiting the invitation, the affable butvillainous Livingston, bowed himself into the room. He was disconcerted not a little, on recognizing by the side of the fair Cecelia, his late antagonist in the duel. Juan sprang. towards him, and closed the door. Livingston ran his hand almost imperceptibly over his person, as if in search of some weapon of defence, but disappointed at finding he was unarmed, he muttered a hasty and forced apology, and desired the privilege of leaving the room peacably, as he came. "Villian, do we meet again?"' Gritted Juan, as he turned and confronted him. "What do you here ?" "Tush, what'-is that to you? 'twere better for the present, that you allow me to depart." Livingston replied with sore degree of aumed dignity, "Not until. you account to me, for this abrupt intrusion into this apartment." Juan hissed.pnro tt "HaJ by what authority do you make such a demand 1" " Upon the. authority of a brother; prepared to shield a sister's honor, and fully able to.avenge her wrongs." Juan replied sternly. " A brother," Livingston sneered. "Cecelia the sister f a' fugitive ?" "Stay, I'll none of this. She is my sister," hissed Juan, advancing to the mantle-piece, and laying his hand on a pistol,. he continued. "'Tis time to close thisparley,.here are pistols, take 'one and defend your miserable life' " But that would be unequal, I would not risk my life with a slave." "Cowardly insulter, say that again, and you die on the spot. Here, villian, must I force you tQ defend yourself, take this, and let us not meet again."- Said Juan extending him'ope of the pistols. He seized it with an eager grasp and as Juan turned to walk to the middle of the room, hastily fired, but Juan, unharmed, turned quickly, and seizing him by the throat would, without discharging his pistol, have strangled him to death, but Cecelia having recovered sprang between them, shrieking, "Oh, Juan, kill him not, kill hin not," saved ,him. Her impulsive sympathy prevailed, and Juan exacting a promise of honor on her behalf, permitted Livingston to leave which he did with secret vengeance burning in his heart. i page: 48-49[View Page 48-49] CHAPTER I. van Lovan. Leaving Cecelia in the care of her brother, we will now transport the reader to that beautiful place of fashionable resort. during the summer season, Cape May. 'Tis a moon-light eve ; and over the snow white sand and peb. blues of the shore, sparkle in the bright light, the vast resplendant beach glittering as the jewelled band of ocean; over which the same silvery light continues as if bathing in the reflection of a spacious mirror. The sea itself, calm and unruffled,' reposed, as if lulled et last, by h4 own constant rocking into quiet sleep. Along the shore are scattered groups of visitors of nearly every age, of both sexes, and from all parts of the union. And "Ah," shall we sigh, the heart- of many a young girl, beats quick and high, as, leaning confidently on the arm of her lover, she listens to his soft empassioned vows of constancy and still increasing love. Among the happy throng along the romantic beach. we encounter the Duvals, Sinclair, and is two sisters, Adella and Lousia. The sea seemed glassy in silence, and the gay, merry laugh from many a full, free heart bounded out from the shore, upon his calm, silvery surface, and danced away into distant echo. Leaving Sinclair in company with a Miss Lindsay of the city, and the two sisters having take their leave of their gay gallatts, we will follow them to the quiet reception at the Hotel, where the following insubstance passed between Louisa and Adelia: " O, Louisa, what a delightful place this Cape May is, to be sure ; So romantic,.and yet so gay. Such a splendid beach,. and such pleasant zephyrs from thesea, and then such com pany ; 0,I declare, am quite sorry our stay here is to be so short." "And so am I, for it seems to me Adelia, that I could be happy here forever, particularly for such pleasant excursions over the beach, among the diamonds andshells, as we have had this evening, -but soft, did you mark Marston ; 0 was.he not delightful and gay? "And Lemuel was nearly bewitching, and with his happy com- pan appeared enchanted, well, I think I shall yet like him as a brother. Adelia colored, at the sudden allusion to her evening gallant. But the gay, laughing Louisa prattled away at a hi.morops rate,. until the apartnnt rang again with her merry' laugh ; She was the youngest of the two sisters, and- differed with Adelia both in dis o sition and person. She was not quite so tall--with less dignity ut her vivacious and happy wit, appeares as harmless as it ever was, entertaining. Though born at the sunny South, they were liberally educated at the North. Their father, Elmer tDuval df French 48 asas es, -educated at the North. Their father, Elmer Duval of French ,extraction, and late of South Carolina was possessed of 'considerable wealth. Adelia feigned a participation in her sister's mirth and to divert attention from herself, spoke of her pleasure at sing their brother Sinclair so happy in the"company of Miss.Lindsay. " O, yes," laughed Louisa; " I ws delighted to see. them-enjoy themselves so much, but I thought Iwould have died with delight, at observing the sentiment and grace of Timothy ; O, did you ever in your life, meet with such a fine, delicate, and fastidious little fellow. With what poetry, and exquisite nicety he ' aw,' describes the ' aw,' beautiful, 'aw,' moonlight scene, 'aw,' ha, ha." - "Pshaw, Louisa, how can you speak so, of such a soulless senti- mental, rainless fop." . "You do not fancy him Adelia, but to-night I am, pleased with all1' "Particularly with Mr. Marton." Said Adelia. The sprightly Louisa, was of a rosy hue naturally; but the name just syllabled in her ear, visibly deepened her healthful color._. For a second her countenance fell, and she appeared more beautiful than ever. She raised her eves languidly, and casting her arms about her sister's neck, kissed her, and whispered:- " Yes-but is not my sister happy in my choice ? "Dear Louisa, I am." She returned affectionately. The season of pleasure at the Capes, closed. And the latter portion of the months of September and October, were passed by them in Pjiladelphia, where the Theatre, Opera and other places of amusement came in for a goodly share of their.attention. On arriving in the city, Sinclair again sought out his friend, Juan ; who informed him of his dicovery that Ceceliathe Actress, was his long unknown sister. "But," he added. "Capello~ has removed, whither, none can definitely tell, but I have very strong reasons for beleiving he has gone South; I must follow him, l'or be revenged I will, if I have to seek him in the midst of my enemies." "Juan, reflect; go among your enemies you most assubedly will if you retrace your steps South. Give over this mad pursuit of revenge; and let Providence deal with him; remembering, ' Ven. geance is' mine, -saith the Lord, and I will repay."' " Sinclair are you indeed serious, have you, so soon forgotten your late promise ? vengeance belongeth to the Lord, I allow, but does he operate without the instrument or means, does he not often punisht men and nations, for their crimes by their fellow men ? but Sinclair, I cannot argue the subject; if, you tanot consent to accompany me, I shall love, you none the less,'but must go alone. But enough of this for "the present, 'tis a gloomy subject at best, let us speak of something else ;-how have you enjoyed yourself since T saw you ?" 49 THE WHITE SLAVE page: 50-53[View Page 50-53] TU WrT rLAVZ. ;Well, indeed; been down to the Capes, and had a pleasant time. " Right glad to hear it; how is Adelia and the gay Louisa ?" " Fine, fine, in excellent spirits, and wish to see you much." "Thanks; I shall visit them. "How is Mr. Duval and lady?" "Quite well, in a few days they leave for home." t Ah I you will not remain ? cannot we journey together ? " We can; but Juan, I fear for you," SHa, ha,\ not-for my arrest as a fugitive ?" No, but for. the disagreeable consequences of your hot pursuit of vengeance.' Leave that to me; there is less certainty of detection at the South than here." Juan I do not wish to be a participant in your crime, bu promise h you i not seek Capello, and we will still journey together the best of friends." "That I will not seepc him,.I promise ; with the codicil on the back of that, that if he crosses my path, he shall die." 'l''hat will do, your hand in confirmation of this, and we will say no more on the subject." -" w s / rr CHAPTER X. TanDIts1xIO c0NSPIRTORS. In the city of Charleston, and at the still hour of midnight., in 'the month of Decerniber, and from the beautiful pleasure ground-the Battery," a solitary boat pushed out from the shore; quiet anad quick it glides out towards the rriddle of the bay. A dense, dark cloud just leaving the moon unobscured, we are enabled by her welcome light to see' the boat some four hundred yards from us, and moving directly for an inverted bendof the thick foliaged wild- wood skirting the opposite shore. -On, on in silence, it glides;over the dark waters, like a- self-moving' thing of life.- . It :strikes the shore, two- men leap out, and making the boat fast beneath a clump of 'bushes, that hang over and dip the water; in five, minutes, they approach a large, old manor-house, closed -tightly from basement to top, and situated in the midst of a most beautiful inclosure of flowers and forest trees, in which universal'solitude, seems-"to be the reigning monarch. But the two men approach the main entrance of the mansion, and giving the 'secret signal, they are immediately admitted, and completed a group of some twelve or thirteen dark clad men of diversified temperaments and mental-endowments. But without entering into a description of them separately we will give a single glance round the-room. It is a spacious apartment, the largest in the house. A single lamp is 'the only. vessel of light 'in the room, and which stands on a long, plain:table, :upon which lay scattered a number of half written nmanusbripts, sundry papers, notes, etc., imparting to the deserted old hall, a faint air of business. Around the table are arranged perhaps a dozen or more fold fashioned, high back mahogany chairs, in them are seated our new company of men, all more or less absorbed in the examination'of the portentious papers before them. At the far end;of the.table and next to' 'the lamp, sits a personage possessed of strangely striking features; and movements; he ras already been introduced to the reader, as Signor Antonio Capello. The rapid, penetrating glances of his large black eyes, as he interestedly scans the numerous writings, give proof'of the restless spirit within. 'Lifting his, eyes fron the papers fora moment andglancing hastily round the tableiheremarked to his companions t- " Well gentleme , friends, we have had an excellent time of it, to-day, at least."ti,'/4 Excellent indeed." Dropped in congratulation frombseveral of the company. Withbrave Richard we can say:truly 'the.workgoes bravely on The convention to-day, besides evincing their determined spirit in various well-drunk toasts, have published a number of gratifying 4 50 JUAN OR, 0 page: 54-55[View Page 54-55] ' w' $4 JVAN K, . speeches, and passed resolutions, breathing in every line, an unswerv- ing determination of severing at the cannon's mouth, and with the sword, the American Union." A slight degree of favorable;agitation, was quite susceptible round the board in th hurried glances of approval, from one to the other but in a moment, all eyes rested on the speaker, who continued:- "Already we have the state legislature with us, her written pledges in and white. They are about to meet in convention, when by one bold, undivided. act of secession, they will declare and publish to the world, that South Carolina, is free from the yoke of. Northern aggression and tyranny forever." . " Ha Iha l truly encouraging,".laugh the listening group At this free out spoken approval, Capello grew animated and flushed, with a feeling of triumph he arose to his feet, and in strains warm and vehement, continued:- " Aye, gentleman, my word and fortune for the truth of the declaration ; South Carolina,.the glorious old' palmetto state,.shall yet stand the bright centre ,of the entire South, refulgent and free; all are watching our movement -in the present crisis, to follow us in a solid Phalanx against the North; and then holy brothers, the Order of ' Jeshurun,' assisted by'the warm blooded sons of the South, shall strike deep their governing principles, and make South Carolina their secure seat of power. If they do'-not, then I wish to live no longer, so let Heaven blast me. 'But come, let us drink to our certain success, and thus while we devise to conquor, let our, motto be- 'Extended rule.'" As they toss off the exciting champagne, we will say by the way, that seven of :these disunionists, are secretely, active Jesuits, league together 'as the order of s"Jeshurun" for the purpose of subjugating the United States to their domination, by every subtle and crafty means which theirnatures and sworn cunning may suggest, their motto, as we have seen. it to be-" To devide is to conquer," while the mystic signification, of their eclisiastic name is-Priest craft,Deception and War. The champagne had passed among them but once, when one of the company was called to 'the 'door,:by aoth'er signal from without. The"a pass,": was; demanded, ana "Secession," as promptly given, the.door opened, and 'the new comer entered in' the person of a youthful, though:dignified lookingman ;: hishair was bushy and full,. and a heavy moustache, covered his:upper lip; which, was it not for an almost perpetualsmile,and a benignant eye,would have imparted. a considerable degree of sternness of purpose,-and invincibility of, will te-his entire: face. Dt:hei advanced among the assembled secessionalists, wvith a graceful, easy air, at once modest and respect- ful. . At-an invitation to jointhem iM their sentiments of the evening, he pleasantly spoke as follows: " Gentlemen arid brother f:the same happy Order, allow me to give the 'coming ,crisis'-rnay :the bold sons of South Carolina in pleading her rights, goon conquering and to conquer. " . ! 55 It was drunk off with a universal murmur of satisfaction. .Another;' Said the same person, " and then you allow ine to take a glance on, those documents I-see scattered over the board. it looks like business. Secession stock no doubt is on the advance, it must advance; but the toast. 'Our sister states of the South, identified with us in sentiment, feeling and interest will not, cannot be against us in the approaching contest of state sovereignty.'" They joined in -the sentiment with' boisterous glee, and having emptied his glass, the stranger, who, by the way, was one of the - Palmetto Cadets," turned to look over the manuscripts on the table, he 'glanced over 'the several .notes of allegiance, read them and smiled. Ten or fifteen minutes more, and they all drank, again to their future success. It was long past midnight, when in groups of three and four, they sauntered down towards their boats, which were drawn from their secret cove, and filled with the celerity of thought, all were pushing hurriedly from the shore, when they were startled by a gurgling shriek from the stranger. As they all turned towards him, they beheld him struggling wildly with the rising pillows, they hastened to the rescue, and succeeded in drawing him from the foaming and dashing surf, safely to land. As he arose to the surface of the water, the moon' shining down brightly'-upon him, revealed to their utter amazement, the long, flowing hair, and pallid countenance of a woman. The false moustache' 'had been 'washed away, and her sex was no longer concealed. " By my faith, a woman I" Exclaimed the wonder stricken -ecessionists, as they gathered around her. " 'Tis strange, what could have been her object? she still lives." " Curiosity is a plague to some. but to her we see it has well nigh proved death." " A woman, say you T Capedo enquired coming up with the company assembled around the bewildered woman "Yes a woman."'-Duval laughed, " ha, ha, Capello we mxave the ladies with us." "There must be some secret, here; back' to the manor, 'and bear her with you, bak to the manor." Capello commanded, rore than solicited. But ere they reached the mansion;sherevived,and fearfully shrieked: " Oh, father, father save me I" "Heavensj1 'tis Beatrice; my daughter low is this V" 'Exclaimed the afflicted Capello, smitten almost beyond endurance, He staggered, rather than ran to his beloved child,'and clasping her surf-dripping form in his arras, sobbed%~convulsively. They were borne into the spacious room from which,-but a few minutes before, they departed entire strangers. The light was procured, and then the secessionalists gazed for several minutes i wonder upon a scene that appeared to hold them all completely spell-bound. "Oh, my father, forgive me; oh father forgive=-" . She exclaimed in the deepest penitance. " Beatrice, my daughter, why have you acted thus with me ? 0 fI . I THE WHITE SLAVE. page: 56-59[View Page 56-59] what have I ever done Beatrice, to merit such deception; why have you thus pursued me ?" And as' though still to assure himself that 'he was not mistaken$in the person, and voice of his daughter, he tore the tightly buttoned coat and vest from her person, which disclosed her silken dress yet quite dry. Next the pants were removed, and she stood in their midst a lovely woman again, in her own attire. She thengave her cause for thus visiting them; being her love -of adventure. Full explanation being given, they all congratulated .her on her escape from drowning, and hinted that she must have drank too many toasts at the meeting; this she archly-denied, and soon they were on-their way home once mort, rejoicing. THE PLOT 56 i JUIAN ORS 9 r8$E WIr'E SLAVE. O CHAPTER XI. TMa RUSE. 6 due couple of time the ease of Juan and Capello, came up for trial. Juan and his friend were punctual and prompt, in appearing at the bar'of justice, but Capello failing to appear against his son, Juan was acquitted. Shortly after, he left the city in company with Sinclair Duval. It was - on a beautiful afternoon in the month ofl'January, they were walking arm in arm along the most wealthy portion of King street, Charleston. Though in January, the sun shone down over the city-bright and warm. King street being their fashionable avenue of promenade, the beaux and bells were out in their gayest colors, and presented to the eye of the animated observer, a scene at once. picturesque and pleasing. Juan and Sinclair, were passing along gaily and enjoying the busy scene, with a zest ; when among others, a beautiful barouche, drawn by a couple of black horses, attracted their momentary attention. "That's a splendid establishment." Juan remarked to his friend. "It is, and I almost envy its owner " " Those blacks move beautifully ; so regularly and even, but see they have stopped at Clarksons let us hasten on and get a peep at -thosenside." They quickened their paces, and reached the store just as one-of the vassals opened the coach door, cast down the,:steps, and the young lady decended to the side walk. "AsI live;' it is 'Beatrice I" Ejaculated Duval to Juan, the-latter started with surprise. She looked up, and recognizing -inelair, smiled complacently, he raised his hat, and returned her easy bow. For 'a second her gaze sought Juan, she smiled, but it was cold and withering, and she hastened into the store. " Ahem, Sinclair, she does know us, I believe" " Without' doubt.; but she is the very ast person I expected to neet here so soon."n_ "Her smile on you seemed bewitching; but on re it wap changed in a moment, to the most venomed sneer; her father surely; cannot have told her of our relationship?" "How could he have-done so, without exposing.himself?" Joined Duval. "He could ;rot. Then she must' have thought of our wrestling exercises in the parlor, in Philadelphia." "'Tis that, without doubt." Well that may wear off, at least I hope so, for I cannot fr get she is still my sister ' . a page: 60 (Illustration) [View Page 60 (Illustration) ] 3 i , R i f 3 1 i i t ' 3 1 { j1 f 3 E ±' t t i 1 i i 5 1 i I 1 f 1 F 1 1 t 1 i (i t 7 { 1 i i t i ~ ' i I f 4 s F "Stay Juan, here is the St, Charles, a 'splendid establishment,' also, let us enter." Duval said, as they entered this luxuriant palace on King street, where we will now leave them, and rejoin the amiable Beatrice, some twohours:after.'"Returned to her home, a noble edifice in the upper part of tee city; she is now informing her father of having seen4Juan and Duval.. "Juan here ?" He exclaimed with astonishrdent, repeating her words. " What evil'fate has sneit him here, so close upon-myrheels. Can it be possible he yet pursues me, else"why does he follow me thus so closely.: But leave me Beatrice, your company awaits(you below,,1 would bealone." ' ' "-Oh ! father what mystery, what evil hangs around your every action-:-yourlife-" "There, there, go my-daughter ; do not.question me, I' havenow several letters' of importance to reply to, and would be alone." The'affectionate Beatrice retired obediently. , Well, well,'this is news indeed,". Capello muttered, approaching his desk.'°":Why'does that scoundrel haunt me thus? How foolish I've been, aftet all, in not having him secured in jail for life, why the'rascal, attempted to murderr ine, and 'I let him off; Tush, what stupidity; and. he yet pursues me, ah, I shall not play with him again, nor will I take .his 'life; no, I can put him away without that risk, ha, I'll write an advestisement, insert it in two or three papers, and ir that don't do the business,he=shallbe' arrested. Yes, zounds, he shall go back into .slavery again,he's pluck too, to come back hereas he his, right.into thie lioh'sden, to, to speak, but-" The door opened and his servant announced a visitor in the person of a member of the order of Jeshurune. ":Did he-send'his' nameG' Capello enquired of his-slave. "Yea Sir Pafrone." ' "Show him up." The '4oor closed, and' in, two.minutes more, Monsieur.Dafrone entered The library, and was greeted by the smiling Capello. Aha,' Monsieur Dafrone, youare the 'very gentleinan -whom I have !just wished to see, I have.'a httle affair, in which you-can assist me ; will you ddso ?' "With pleasure--of 'what nature is the matterri" "Be seated,-and I wil +pllyou. You see I'm going to-put these few lines in the paper, and I wish you to act as'my deputy, in ry place you'kiowtand atted to ?te applicants who 'may call in referenee.to it. The person with whom 1 wish the engagement effected, is known by the name-of Juan,'he hasplayed in most of the Theatres at the North. 'You 'will have the applicants call at your office, and you can just act in the matter as I farther direct ; will you'attend to ittif 1so your reward shall be handsome." isI will, with the greatest of pleasure." Very well; I anticipate but little trouble in getting the proper person. 'a C THE FATHBR AND HIS SLAVE SON. 60 , WAX-0tt, page: -61[View Page -61] 61: THE WHITE SLAVE One week subsequent, as Juan unfolded the morning paper, that had just been brought into the room by the servant, his eye fell upon the alluring advertisement, which had appeared for several days. without attracting his hotice, and the projector of the scheme was about to abandon the design a ,a failure. Juan read it over at first with but little interest, but every additional reading seemed to clothe it with more of interest and reality. He folded the paper up, and' sought his friend, Sinclair, whom: finding in his study, saluted him with a pleasant good morning,.and placed the advertisement before= him, saying: " Read, and tell me what you thin of it. Sinclair complied, and read, as follows; Wanted,-Anaccomplished American Tragedian, for her Majesty's Theatre, at Madrid, Spain; a handsome salary may be expected, calf immediately at No--=Broad street.. The vessel sails in a fcw - days. "It reads very well; But do you think of applying for it ?" " I do, will you go along ?" "I will, and recommend youth to her Majesty's agent. For Huon; Hamlet, and Othello, *vil take the Spaniards by storm; and your Capello create a new era in the drama." Come, come, Sinclair, what do you mean ?" " Why the Looking-glass scene in Capello's parlor, at Philadelphia, ha ! ha!' "That was a crash, indeed, and no mistake." " A scene sufficiently thrilling to bring the house down with .cries The sentegice was broken off by a hearty laugh.from each of them, and they started in search of the office on Broad street; which after a few minutes walk they entered, and were greeted with the blandest smile of which Monsieur Dafrone was capable. He invited them into his private office, which was furnished in a splendid style, more indeed like a palace chamber than a placeof business; and which still confirmed Juan's good opinion of her Majesty's agent' After inquiring thename of his new applicant, the hearing of which gave him concealed gratification, he commenced out of ford, to question Juan in regard to his capabilities, of, which he received abundant and satisfactory testimonials ;:arid an engagement, at-ass extravagant salary, was immediately effected. They took' their , leave ofIMonsieurDafrone,receiving withthankshis urgent solicitation of paying him another visit before the vessel sailed. In the meanwhile, Timothy Pillington, still revolves his delicately cologned existance round the Continental, Philadelphia. It was in the evening of .a "tedious, dismal day," which he had spent in "trying on," his new suit of black, that Mortimore and Livingston, were again' in his company. "tWell Tim, to be social, howhave you ' put in the day?'" "That's the question," laughed Mortimore. "Well, aw, have a segar, be comfortably seated, and I will tell page: 62-63[View Page 62-63] 62 3lK 1N T TS you." Timothy began, offering, them their choice of some very good Havanas - " Aw, of the Ball last night, I suppose .1 need not speak, but that was a superb affair." "-I never saw Araminta appear so excessively charming, as she did in the dance last night." Put in Livingston. " She was exquisite, and complimented me highly upon my pro- ficiency in the Polka,the Redowa, the Schottislie and Mazourka; aw, in which I had the inexpressible pleasure of pressing her near my heart. For I find reports are true,. and that she will come into possession of her property on her next birth-day. But to the manner in which I've passed to-day,--". awoke quite late, -ead a ortion of Dumas' last novel; his views of society are charming, if-we could only have a second Paris here I My dinner was brought in at three o'clock, as usual; it is so vulgar to eat like common people, and then I couldnot relish my food with steel forks, that is very common, I prefer silver. But I forgot a circumstance that happened to me last evening: As I was escorting Araniinta to her carriage, a man stepped on my patents and soiled them; the man appeared embarrased and begged my pardon; but I looked very fierce at him when I saw h wasfightened and all passed off admirably,for I hadthesatisfaction of hearing Arry tell her friend, how courageously I acted.". "Well Tim, you will soon propose, will you not ?.1" " Aw, yes, I shall bring matters to a close, shortly. Women are truely Angels, and always tell the truth so delightfully. Arry com- plimented me on my distinguished appearance, and said I looked pale and interesting ;-the, secret was, that afternoon I had cleared my complexion with Hauel .admirable reparation. Really that Hauel is a benefactor to mankind. On Friday even Araminta will be.mine." -.. "So soon, faith Pillington you are a lucky dog." Ejaculated Livingston and Mortimore in the same breath. "I shall propose at the Opera." *" Between the acts? could not select a more suitable or happier place." said Mortimore. Livingston smiled, but said nothing. " She has an excessive passion for the Opera, and at it she is so elated,. that she will grant almost .any request made. I shall avail myself of her most liberal and good-natured mood, when excited by the music; and ask her to be mine." "Charming, you cannot fail to possess her fortune and her hand." CHAPTER XU. THE DREAD. On the morning following Juan's. engagement for her Majesty's Theatre, at Madrid, he entered the apartment of his friend, his mind evidently charged with some matter which made a deep impression. And after their usual'preliminaries of the day, had sociably subsided, Jnan began: . "Hve you an faith in dreams, Sinclair ?" "iNot much,".Sinclair smiled. Sometimes they may -foreshadow coming events, I beleive they have been given as premonitors; but they are not always to be relied upon as true. Why do you ask~so singular a question ?"- " I have had a dream, so singular, yet startling ; and which has wrought such an effect upon my mind, that the impression seems stamped indelibly there. Would you hear my dream " ."tIf you please, for now I perceive it has indeed produced an effect on you since yesterday; are you not ill ?" ,"Not ill; but allow me to-tell my dream." " Most willingly ; I am all attention, procede." " Last night, Sinclair, I saw Cecelia, clearly as-I,ever beheld her in my life.~ She was attired in white, and was kneeling, I thought at the feet of that base villian, Lawrence, Livingston. I heard her intreat him to redeem his promise; which he made to me-to her, when he was in my power.-For the sake of humanity, for the love of Heaven, and the unborn innocent, quickening in her bosom. She prayed him to save her from self-reproach and shame, to redeem his promise and make, her his wife. But with a withering curl' on hislip and a frown on his brow, he rudely spurned -hdr from him . yes Sinclair, while she yet clung to his feet, and with the deep intensity of woman's love, covered his hands with kisses, and implored him not to desert her-not to leave her to misery-to the scorn and contempt of the scornful, to the bitterness of self-reproach. Her long, dark hair, clustered over her prostrate figure, and her soft, eyes filled with tears, were turned upon him, as the quivering dove, tuins in its agony, its last gaze upon the vulture that destroys its life : 3 et he coldly spurned her with his foot, turned on his heel, and left her so her fate. That moment I would have sprang upon and strangled him,-but oh,. Sinclair, that scene to me was real; I felt all the indescribable horror, that I should have endured, had I been inclosed in a room with them alone, and witnessed it with my natural eyes- I would have destroyed him with a single effort, my will was good, but--I lacked the physical'strength, an indescribable weakness, like water, took -possession of my body, and I- seemed debared by an inevitable decree from him, forever.- For several minutes I lay Tas WAITS SLavu. page: 64-65[View Page 64-65] 54 saJn o0 . upon my couch in the greatest mental anguish, ! felt the cold perspi. ration, rolling down from my forehead, and my face, and presently it started from all parts of my body; I trembled, and became chilled. At-length I grew' comparatively calm, sad saw them again ; and this time under circumstances more painful, if possible than the former. I beheld them near, a d4ep stream of water; again she was weeping at his feet. He gathered her up in his arms, evidently with some devilish-intent ; she begged him to spare her life ; and in her struggles-to get free, he 'stumbled, and she fell from him to the ground. She had fainted; she layfor a moment unconscious, and pale-as the whitest marble. The place was lonely, on each side of the dark, deep stream, the.thickly foliaged forest started the shore. He glanced rapidly around him, then hurriedly snatching her from the;green earth; he bore her to the brink, and ere she revived, with a powerful, murderous effort, he plunged her beneath the everlasting waters But, 0, Sinclair! Abis was not al),, I was doomed to see her once more;'I thought the sudden plunge revived her paralyzed sences,and with a wild andifearful shriek she sprang upwards. She would have grasped the boat into which bewhad leaped,; but fiend. like, he struck her with the oar, and she sank to rise no more. Her innocent blood, purpled the waters momentarily, marking them as the 'fatal spot where she went down. Sinclair, at the sight, my blood rushed boiling and foaming through my brain; not content with defiling her, he had 'now imbued his hands- in her blood, he was her murderer. - My grasp was on his throat, and I felt the vile wretch twist and writhe like a reptile at my mercy. Mercy!1 in that hour I knew none. One effort like that of. an iron vice, and I felt every bone of his body crushed in my grasp; I awoke, my room was dark as Egypt's blackest night.' For a second, I lay reflecting, but I could not rest; I arose, obtained a light, and paced my room, I know not how long, for Ididnotthink of tirne,I only thought of Cecelia, and her probable fate.". "iAnd this you call a dream,, Juan you are surely romancing,; your imagination has. gained the mastery of your judgement. You but ftaincv-these things.n "Call it romance or fancy, or what you please. These things appeared to me last night, just as I have told you of them, and with such fearful effect ; God grant I may never be called to witness the like in reality. When I awoke, and found it but a dream, I really felt an inexpressible relief; and .yetSinclair, I fearthereis something more than a dream in this; I fear it -is; or will be sad reality: for you know that Livingston,;vis a villain capable of almost:any crime 'But I again retired, and felloffinto fitful dozing.. I saw him again, 'under circumstances though diffeT-ent, 'yet equally dark and fearful. He had fled-the city, and l became -thealeader of a. secretly leagued Banditti, formed for crime. the most heinous, plotting wickedness of both high and low degree, from'vice in the pulpit, deception in the judge on the bench, robbbery and arson.-Thenight was impenetrably dark and stormy. The starless sky hung over the earth; with a 1_ I ents WHITE SLAVE. , -heavy, leaden hue, and in a spacious, dingy cave, I saw by the pale light of a single' lamp, a company of men of warm temperaments and diverse appearances ; among them, was Livingston. By the earnest air, which seemed to shroud them like a spell, 1 felt there was a deep scheme, or mystery at work in the heart of those thus secretly convened round a large table,on which lay writing; materials, and a number of partially written papers; while in another portion of the cave,. I saw a large crucifix overturned. As. L wondered. what their object could be, that they were thus assembled, in such a place, and on such a night,-the heavy rain was pouring down in torrents, the wind uprooting the stoutest' trees of the forest, and field, and twisting off fences, raged a horrible tempest. The deaf- ening thunders roared, rolled and-rattled along the globmy horizon, while the flashesand streams of lightning, hissed and played through the air, and along the ground, as - fiery serpents illummating with frightful sublimity the vivid scene. I thought their. plotting was againstthe uion of the Northern and Southern States. Their pretext for disolution, the subject of slavery. After perhaps an hour's delib- eration, they all solemly gathered round the rugged crucifix, and forming a, circle, each person simultainously-lifted his right hand to Heaven, and vowing eternal allegiance to each other, they swore to use all their cQmbined and individual efforts to' overthrow the con- federacy of 'the United States to separate forever, the South from Jie North. I, trembled at their oath, and while I yet looked, gazed upon a scene, the cold horror of which almost congealed my heart's blood,-by some invisible power, their uplifted hands had become motionless and stiff, and they were withered and shrivered to the bone, each of them still pointed to Heaven, The men were dumb, for though their lips still moved in blasphemous oaths, their tongues clove to the roof of their mouth ; while their fierce revolving, eyes, shot forth gleams of liquid fire, until each, ' straining ball of sight seemed bursting from their head.' With an intense horror, I gazed upon the scene before me ; presently I saw a thin, blueish smoke, ooze out from their bodies, and curling above them, for several minutes hid them from view, as it were, by a thin, vaporous mist. 'It cleared away, and the forms of the men still standing, their withered' hands still pointing Heavenward, had changed to an unearthly black- ness. Their eyes dropped from their sockets, their tongues consumed by an inward fire, fell from their mouth, and then their flesh turning a1ill blacker, drooped peacemeal from their bones, and left their dry b!tached skellitons, standing round the fallen crucifix, and their bony arns, hands and fingers, still pointing to Heaven. It was a strange, a saddening spectacle, and shuddering, I closed my eyes upon the scene. When I opened them again, all the former darkness of the conflicting elements had cleared away, and the, silvery moon sailing high in the Heavens, again gave light to the world, well nigh as refulgent as the sun at noon-day. Over the cave; I saw, as if suspended by the magnetic power of- attraction, the most brilliant constellation of stars, gleaming through the transparent atmosphere with au, page: 66-67[View Page 66-67] .6 31A 'AN O t .t eflblgence almost overpowering to the mortal vision of man ; in their -clear, bright' center, and drawn to his full height, stood the majestic father of his country ; his calm, benignant face, beaming forth in God-like integrity, his divine consciousness of justice. Sinclair you have seen the picture showing him on horseback, as he appeared at the eventful battle of Monmouth, where the majesty of his presence, his grandeur and. composure, stopped the retreat of his flying army. and his firmness, almost divine, fixed the most brillant victory of hi country's'arms. I have gazed upon that picture when alone, until the bright halo of calm courage and valiant enthusiasm, enwreathed his brow, and lighting the eye, has melted into divinity ; and as I gazed upon Washington, thought I gazed upon a god. - Such,indeed, Sinclair, he appeared to me last night, in the center of the bright constellation of the American states. With his sword drawn to command, he calmly pointed to a small black cloud in the Southern portion of the heavens, from the center of which, and in characters of liguid fire, glittered the warning-" Vengeance is mine, I will -epay saith the Lord." . -"And this you call a dream." Said Duval, when Juan had .recovered from the intense agitation consequent upon the recital of his almost increditable vision. " It is truly startling, but for the life of me Juan, I cannot rid myself of the thought that you must be romancing."- " Sinclair, ws my fate for the truth, to be that of thedisunionists in the cave beneath the the burning vengeance of Heaven-I remem- her correctly,-all the minutia of the ,scenes, as the strange panorama of them passed before me last night, I could not shut it out. and have given you my dream as it really appeared.' "'Tis strange," said Duval," aye most marvelous." "8trange but too true " .echoed Juan'. " I filM WRITE 4LA yE. 67' CHAPTER XIII.. DECEPriON. One month later, -Antonia Capello received a letter stamped from a popular post betwixt Spain and the United States. On -receiving the letter he hastened to his library, and after securing himself from intrusion, broke the seal' and read in substance as follows: February 23, 18- Signor Antonio Capello Dear Sir.--your instructions have been fully carried out, and Juan is now carefully guarded on his rapid way to Peru. He gave us- some trouble in his transhipment, from my vessel to the one bearing him thither. The proposed change led him to suspect something not quite in accordance with his previous arrangement ; but we soon quieted him with chains and hand cuffs, not, however, until through his efforts in the drama, he succeeded in knocking one of our best men. overboad. Your favor is duly received ; thanks. Yours Truly, Capt. Don Jose. "Ha ! ha ! Juan in a silver mine of Peru, makes me at least one hundred thousand dollars richer in security and comfort. Ah, Jose you are an accomplished villian, and are deserving of a gener alship for this last act alone. Juan in'Peru, secures to me a very respectful distance from the murderous scoundrel; thanks to the favoring tide, Dafrone and Capt. Jose, the thing is ' finally done,' and I am free from care." Thus chuckledCapello,overthe few lineswhich gave himnsuch assur ance of his son's new bondage; while the afflicted and bruised.Juan groaned beneath the heavy shuckles with which he was loaded, 'and forced as a menial into a servitude more galling, if possible, than the worst phase of Southern slavery. Driven down, hundreds of feet beneath the surface of the earth and compelled to toil on con- stantly, day and night,, without the remotest hope of escape. Such was Juan's fate in one of the deepest mines of Peru. Another month after he had been thus shackled, his unnatural father received a large box of valuables, which was taken. from ship-board, and carefully deposited by the drayman before Capello's door on a fine afternoon in balmy April. A note was then placed in his hands, hastily receiving which, he hurriedly summoned three or four of. his vassels to convey the box into a large, private room devoted especially to the storage of such goods. Capello had settled J 0 *1 page: 68-69[View Page 68-69] - 68 JUAN Oft, with the drayman, and entered the westward room to await t-4 deposit of the box there. "What am dis ye have yar, Sam?7 Enquired one of the blacks of a companion, as he descended the verandah. You, ya, don't know Cezar, 0cept its more valuables. Phew, golly, its putty heavy anyhow." Saidhe, as trying to raise'it, he left the edge of the box drop very nearly on his feet. "Clar out, you wooly-leadyou ;weak, you can't lift nothing, let' me try it.' Broke in a stout athletic negro.of the four. He seized the box, and raising it some inches from the ground, was boasting to his grinning companions, of his success and skill, as Capello stood in the door frowning at their attempts. What are you at there, you black rascals, bring me that box here irpmediately, or I'll horsewhip every one of you." "They all seized the box, and in three minutes more it was safely deposited in the desired place.-, "Now," said he, " tose the door, and open that back window, and here Ciezar, take ths hatchet and let me see how carefully and quickly you can open this box." f Cezar, took the hatchet, and in ten minutes more, had the top off the box and a portion of the packing material emptied out upon the floor. And there in the box reposed carefully- packed, not a live negro, nor the returned Juan, but a complete set of massive silver plate; received by Capello from Peru, in exchange for his son. The negroes scarcely knowing the nature, or rather the value of the articles, but merely thinking them something "valerable," looked seriously at each other, and waited in silence, their master's pleasure. The plate was removed to a secure place, and afew days subsequently,- Capello's mansion was the gay scene of one of the most brilliant banquets or soirees ever convened in Charleston. At it were ^* assembled over twenty members of his secret league, and many of his, and his daughter's lady acquaintances of the city. And thus the articles purchased by the bondage of Juan,-the rich, littering gobblets conveyed the wine to the= lips of his foes, and the other articles, dazzled beneath the many rich viands of the season, were the subject of pleasure and remark among those who had so cruelly conspired against him. But to avoid proving tedious to the reader, we must again change the scene, and note events of a different nature the past, occurring in another portion of the city. It was a bright morning in the early part of April, and while yet the celestial streakings of the rising sun had scarce begun to tip the kity peaks of the eastern hills, and the chimes of St. S,.--were sending forth their inviting peals, Iong ere they ceased, a female, entered the large gateway leading to te proud lofty church, penitent and sid. She' passed into the vestry, with humble down-cast looks, and pressed towards the confessional, confessor Melville was waiting . the penitent maiden approached and poured her soul of sincere con fession into his listening ear., Her voice,. sinless as her own soul stimed silvery and musical as the pure breathing of an angel. He-. THE WHITE SLAVEOw became deeply interested, and thought his first devotee of the.morning was indeed a celestial from the upper world, for whose confession he could form no penance. At a glance he ,drank in more of beauty and real, loveliness, than we are capable of forming the rare being before him. The sun never shone upon one more heavenly and pure. His unrestrained passions,-at- the sight, grew inflamed. His foot pressed mechanicaly on a secret spring near the floor, when ; ick aZs the lightning she, was lowered down, down, far below the place where but a moment before,'she stood with innocent unsuspicious confidence. A. moment more and she was struggling in the arms of her-base confessor. But-maddened by the insult, and strengthened by the resolution of suddn.despair, not altogethe void of hope, she with one boldeffort, pushed him from her, while his foot catching the trail of his gown, he staggered and fell back heavily to the ground. She cried loudlyfor 'help, but' the thick prison-like walls that now inclosed her, were far too massive to be penetrated by her cries. Quickly she sprang in all parts of her inclosnre in hopes of finding some way of egress., In her wild flight she succeeded, as it were by accident, her foot struck a'spring near one side of the apartment and a small door quickly flew open before her, admitting into the dingy ground chamber a 'stream of light, that for a moment, with delightquite dazzled her sight. She sped joyfully through the welcome passage, and gained the street. Reaching her home, she scarcely Knew how, she kept her room 'closely for several days. Confessor Melvillerevived, and at lengthquite.abashed, arose from hishumiliating posture. Groaning deeply inspirit, he heartily bewailed the unpleas- ant dilemma into which 'his weakness or rather wickedness had involved him. "Ah, I-should have silenced her while she was in my power," he muttered in regret. "Tush, I have made a bungling commence- ment in my new calling. ,Foiled for once,--she-has escaped, and will expose me; my only security now, is flight, flight !" This wolf in sheeps clothing was Mulford Melville, alias Lawrence Livingston, the murderer of Juan's sister, Cecelia. His intended victim, this time, was.the lovely Adelia Duval. But during the same 'time another scene progresses. On a little frequented road, between the, city of Charleston and Columbia, a handsome young lady is sporting on a fine sorrel pacer, her favorite amusement and pastime, equestrianism.= Nearing a thickly, foliaged wildwood, by the road-side, she carelessly gave the reins to the animals neck, and herself strangely up to a reverie of pensive reflections. She thought of her kind old uncle who had lately made the present of the beautiful animal on which she was sitting. ,She thought of him whom she loved yet, dearest than all, and for' a moment -repined at the strange fate which seemed tokeep them separate so long. A single tear coursed down over her cheek and fluttered off unheeded in the'passing breeze. Suddenly the coming locomotive sent forth a loud and far-echoing blast, which frightened her horse, he bounded away at a fear gedlIop, She-grasped for page: 70-71[View Page 70-71] ,fib JUANO the loosened reins, but missing them, clung only to his flashing mane, now whipping and snapping in the wind. Her hat flew off, and her hair becoming unbound. streamed in the wind in flowing luxuriance. She grasped again for the lost reins, but the sudden jerk with which she seized' them, turned the animal over into a large field, where- reminding one of Mazeppa's firery steed,-=he fled away yet fiere than before. On, and yet on he strode ovdr the field, endangering 'every moment, the more, the life of his precious charge. But starting from the'thicket, bordering on the road-side, another enters upon the chase, and flies over the field in rapid and splendid stride. 'Tis a chase for life and love, for on the pursuing steed, sits him of whom she thought, when her own trusty, steed: took to flight. He had recognized in the fair one in danger, his late betrothed; and now skins over the plane in ursuit, swift indeed, as the wind. A white belt of light gleams in te distance, it is the river, and hope in his breast whispers wildly, of this as the goal of their mad flight. A moment more, and his iereing glance, discvers between them 'and the alluring 'stream, a horrible chasm yawning darkly to receive them in a mangling death. With an impulsive shudder he drove his spurs into his faithful steed, which starts him in the chase to his utmost speed. He called to Louisa, she looked up, and catching a glimpse of her imineint danger, uttered a piercing scream, and but clung closer to the saddle. For a second his heart sank within him but it was not the time to despair. Another moment and all will be lost, a moment more and both horse and his fair rider will be-dashed to pieces, and find a gloomy tomb at the dark bottom of a rugged abyss. Once more he arose in his saddle, and driving his spurs into the foaming flanks of his trembling steed, he dashed against the breast of the runaway, on the very verge of the precipice, which while it quivered and crumbled beneath their feet her animal checked by the shock, sprang aloft on his hindmost feet, when the saddle girth broke assunder,. and Louisa Duval fell back to the earth stunned to almost insensibility. Her horse, in leaping front his haunches again, sprang over the precipice, and falling, dashed himself to pieces against tho rocks below ; he was dead and weltering in blood, --but Louisa was saved; young Marston wheeled his horse about, leaped off, and stood over her a moment, in the deepest solicitude. There she reposed, pale as the whitest marble, saved from a horrible death, as -though but to.sleep oi fprever upon the summit of a moun- tain tomb. He felt her pulse, a weak beat yet told of a spark of remaining life, and hope, almost despair, revived. He seized her in his arms, and remounting with her, in his saddle, retraced his course over the field some two miles distant to her father's house. But leaving her thus in the tender care of her parents and her lover, we must again change the scene of our story. - " Well, comrades, what think you by this time of our success with Monsieur Melville, will he join us ?' Interrogated Martinar address- ing some dozen or more others, in their place of especial meeting in a reserved portion of New Orleans. I 71 7ia waTE SLAVE. as I believe he will, he has keen tried of late by several of us ; so that with a little judicious perseverance, I think we will have hi'n with us, in fact he has given me his word to be with us to-night." Replied Dafrone. "That is well-we may succeed then, but think you Monsieur Dafrone, he will come to-night ?" " He will." Responded promptly and firmly, a new voice, as removing his. disguise, the villainous Melville, stepped forth from the promiscuously assembled men. " I am here noble sirs, and await your pleasure." All started at cthe unning and effectual surprise. His hand was grasped warmly by many of them, and all proclaimed him quite an accomplished member. They felt proud of his evident ability to deceive and play the, jesuit adroitly. "Give me your hand, Monsieur Melville." Said Martinan, the spokesman of that division of the " League." "It is yours Signor Martin4n, and with it my heart also." Replied the accomplished villian, extending his hand. The peculiar -and requisite preparation was now made to initiate Melville fully into the secrets of the Order of "Jeshurune." He signed his life-for the promotion of their domination and rule. Another general congratula- tionensued,afterwhich they appointed anothermeeting,then scattering, vanished in the darkness without, which seemed so favorable to their . iaca deains.. page: 72-73[View Page 72-73] JUAN OR. CHAPTER XIV. S4RIUAGE. Subsequent to Juan's departure from the city, but a few interviews on the part of the youthful Duval, with the ardent Beatrise, served to rekindle with a far warmer glow, their previous limited affection for each other. Their attachment grew sincere and they were soon betrothed ; they were married. Signor Capello, despite his common though fashionable follies, loved his proud daughter with a degree of tenderness truly praiseworthy and amiable. Sinclair Duval was an only son. Both families were rich, and the -immense wealth of each seemedto be brought in conjunction in order to make the proud wedding of the two loved ones, a brilliant display,, seldom surpassed or even equalled for extravagance and splendor, among the aristocracy of the South, oreven the nobility of Old Spain. Married amid the dazzling cortege of her father's mansion, her ay guests and smiling admirers, though numerous were select ; But Beatrice appeared a Queen among them all. We neednot stay to extol the orient-like banquet, the flashing of wines and the immense glitter of the freshly imported silver ware. But leaving the bride and groom, inexpressibly happy, we hasten on to note among others an event occuring some three months subsequent to the glad wedding The sudden death of Arrabella, mother of Sinclair Duval, came tc them like a sad knell from the other world. Pleased with the evident happiness of the newly wedded, their house had been the gay scene of joy and feasting ; but now,that same mansionis thegroom shrouded enclosure, of a scene how vastly different-death. The brightest feature of good in the noble character of Sinclair Duval, was his love for his mother. And not having yet cast aside his bridal attire, he followed with his weeping bride, his mother to the tomb, in gloom. Nine months more, and the mansion of Elmer-Duval, at Charleston, was owned by him no more.-. He sold it, and with it a large portion of his slaves. The ensuing autumn, he expended more than half his wealth, inthe exciting political contest then raging for the disolution of the union. It is net necessary to say that the union survived the stormy conflict while Duvalwas compelledto turnhisplantation near Charleton into cash. Signor Capello- was the purchaser, by which he came into the possession of an additional number of slaves. He also grew interested in thececession strife, but betting in the issue, simply one of his favoriteQuadroons, and fifty of his plantation negroes, his loss did not proveso great as that of Duvals.; Twelve months more have passed away, and though prolific with gloomy and conflicting events, they now lie buried deep in the vaulted past. Our scene changes to a quiet and reserved portion of the city New Orleans; the season is pleasant and a most lovely morning THE WITE SLAVE. 73 in 1ay. The sun just rising and striking aslant the half parted blinds at the windows of the quiet marnsion house, seems to sport in gay, fantastic rays, with his own bright beams, forming at once a halo of brilliance, pleasing ad' cheerful. In the center of this scin- tillation, and bathed in the perfumed light, smiles a lovely babe, just having dropped into the hands of its mother, from the gentle source of its happiness and nourishment. How sweetly for a few moments doesit repose in the shielding arms of the mother, as in a girdle of holiest love. The happy mother once more radiant with health, seems watching the sleeping innocence of her fiat born, with the .vigilance of an Angel, while smiling by her, side,, sits the happy father. They are Sinclair and Beatrice. A few evenings subsequent a scene quite different progresses. . "Melville, you seem a lucky fellow, having executed that flourish upon Duval's estates pretty well, what think you now, of'attempting that little business up town, there eh ?" The speaker was Dafrone. " Well, were it not for one thing, I would be prepared to undertake it forthwith." Melville replied approaching with two or three assistants, nearer to Dafrone. " But as it is, I think we shall have to defer it a little, for you know Dafrone, I wish to make.a finished piece of work of it. His silver and gold. alone, will never satisfy me, but hark ye, we must manage to bear away his wife, also, for she would prove a charming acquisition to our cQmpahy. By the way, Signors, come nearer, did I ever tell you-of a pretty Miss I once possessed in Charleston ? But what is one, many have I engaged since, believe me ; but hush, a little affair proved against me, ifazied; she escaped me, which hastened my flight to his place. But a truce to the past, the present and the future are ours." " Aye, the present, Monsieur." Answered the listeners in the same breath. "I was saying we should have the wife with us." " But can it be done without much risk ? Is there any one moment more propitious than another ?" "Yes, hearken, I have ascertained that there are seasons when he is called away on business to New York, or Boston or-it matters not where. But if we can with equal certainty hit'upon the season of his absence we are safe and secure of his old and wife." 'A good plan, and well given, Monsieur. Replied Dafrone. The other listeners drew closer round him; but after as few moments.more of consultation, at Melville's suggestion they separated for the evening, himself taking Dafrone by the arm, they walked away, and in ten minutes entered a cafe where they further matured their plans over the exhilerating fumes of a social little banquet. But'we think, sudden as his transformation may have been, the reader cannot fail to see in Monsieur Melville, alias Lawrence Livingston the" finished villian." page: 74 (Illustration) [View Page 74 (Illustration) ] 74 Written in 1854. Howtrue in 1861. CHAPTER XV________ ____ nJTRBUTION. -_______ SeVeral e renings later, and in their quietly appointed place of reserve - ~ and secret deliberation, a small number' of the membes of the ____ov dcoN O a_ ".Jeshurune League," convened ifrthe city of New.Orleans. [he Order of Jeshurune, as has, already been:Intimated, was a mystic'or i-religious combination of ennunited for the purpose of overthirovin~ -___ protestantism and Liberty, and gradually to subvert the present form'_-_-_ of government ,of 'the' UnitedStates: To many this .nay seera silly and prOposterous idea, hut yet it is none the less true, that there are menin our very midst, aje,:men who partake daily and yely of our bounty, enjoy all the acred priveleges and imm~unities 'of our free institutions, who aree also sworn most- avowedly to do all in their might by every Jesuitieal-scheme and inaneiuvre to sop the very foundation of our Republican fabt'ic, and thus destroy forever, the purest principles of democracy in the New World. Democracy in name merely, they ,fear not, but 'tis its pure spirit against which they strive,; succeeding in this we'need'scarcely predict the Anarchal consequences that must follow in-thedread wake of such a disaster. Their evening we have alluded to, was one of especial. interest, an4 though it was blustery. stormy 'and densely dark, yet. occuring at a ;period when t" Secession";was rag ingthe hotest, to them itwas a meeting of great importance.-Gradually -they'mustered one after the toher'until'they nuinbered some' fifteen for eighteen, and went into business. These fifteen orfeighteen men, thus meeting in secret, r rule in public the'orinataindluince'of twice'tei thousand men,on ( the suhjets of, secession throughout-the South.- As they interchanged plans for their future operations, the sparklingCwitn' Champagne dazzled with exhileraiting witchery, as it passed in 'the glass from-one to the other. The gathering gusts of wind outside, /,- .r began to break around them in gloomy, and startling requiem. -The - darkness grew thickerand the rumbling of the' thunder from the r west, followed byheavy and fitful discharges of rain, gave the unheeded token of theiapproaohin natural conflict it still continued to increase unnoticed ty the btsy cessioniste irtheir secure place 2- of deliberation, the mOre beore f fr undueintrusion by 'the Coming storm. From som6 unaceoutitable causethe debate changed from"- politics to' that of individual wealth which forma season grew warmi. and high but 'gradually softened'down and was continued by but two, of the-League,.though:the -wealthest of the- Order; they were Signor Capello, and Elmer- Duval, whose private feelings towards each other,had strangely undergoneof late a singular change; caused -so m e sa y , b y th e la te m a rria g e , o th e rs b y th e p u rc h a se o f D u v a l's,\s a\wc h r / n i_- - estates, in which there occurred a misunderstanding in.referea - - DANGER AND RESCUE page: -75[View Page -75] THE WRITE SLAVE. number of slaves. And to-night there seemed to be a strong vidictive tenacity in their argument, savoring more of an out and out quarrel than a mere debate for pass-time. They grew warmer and warmer, while the vivid lighteing flashed in their faces, with a purple and a bluish glow; their countenances whitened with rage at each other, and a number of the company, not to witness the unpleasant quarrel, quietly withdrew, while those that remained failed entirely to pacify or seperate the contestants. Their language grew harsh, eveh tounbear able insult. stimulated by vengeance, their drawn teels flashed simul- D.aniously in the light, which by a sudden gust of wind fronghe door, was blown out; and all for a second was shrouded in impenetrable darkhens; and in the same instant, the whole sqene, by ,a brad flash of crimson lightning, was turned into a sheet of blanehipg flame, and all faces turned ghastly The lightning ejashed jsE ant their brandished instruments of death,andfollwedwithacontinpous charge of thunder, which sounded more deafenng than the ehgrge of a hundred canon, shattered the building into chges. 'l egr lodies.Were found horribly mangled, and the two linives shivered into many peices, while on a large stone, near by which the quarrellers stood, was traced by the lightning, plainly as any human art could write-. Vengeance." To the present time the charred and shattered ruins of the old stone house, remain a chaotic moment of teaGein's displeasure,.an evidence -that '' God will not he onced; for what a man sows. that shall he reap." The bodies weyo gathere; by the citizens, and quietly and decently intered On a cloudy night in the month of October, and in the wealthy portion Qf the Crescent .city, tree rien cad ii dark apparel, their heads and faces shrouded in cowls, might have been seen prowling abouta lrgemodern mansion,alongside of which,occupying the entire - front, a beautiful piazza extended in good old Southern style, whil at the side or right wing, a large yard, or more properly a garden, spread out before you, a beautiful prpspect of fruit trees, ppd flowers of every eq9or.and perfume. During the after part of the day, considerable rain had fallen, and the atmosphere around our rosy retreat, seemed ad re with the richest perf ure. One of the three men, Ainally stepped up to the side entragee, and fin g it unfastened, they all entered cautiously, and proceeded to the rear of the quiet mansion. " It smells sweet in here." Whispered one to the other, as they walked along the rose andbopglocd bordered walk, leaving which, to theirrights few more steps brought them to the rearmnain entrance. The leader quietly tried the door, and found it fast, he moved along to another, which was also fist; he tried another. it ylded to i presure. t' Hearken, comrades," he whispered. Either the trs are pro- pitious, or a snare awaits us, so be prepared for the wort, and yt theycould not have anticipated us, oar errand is jnown only to our- selves-the fates favor us. follow." aying -which, and with their page: 76-77[View Page 76-77] JUAN G0. weapons drawn, they all entered stealthily, crossed the first' room and paused, when the leader partially opening a dark lantern, in an under tone'said: " We all know our errand here; I beleive he is absent, now we must first ascertain where she is, and if asleep well; while I content myself with her, you will search the house, and return by the time I am ready to decend. There can be no snare, be fearless anrd brave." They commenced to ascend the spacious stair-way, the soft, pliable brussels of which, gave back not the least sound of their stealthy approach. On they passed, scrutinizing closely as they gained the suit of costly furnished apartments on the second floor. Pausing a moment before a half open door, the leader, was about to spring his lantern abain; but it was useless to do so, for as he carefully opened the c amber-door. his gaze met a sufficiency of light for a l his dark purposes. He pressed the door ajar, and thievissly glared in; the light had nearly burned away. He turned towards the couch and there lay the calm sleeping wife, unconscious of the close prox- imity of the abducting Fiend chuckling with inward triumph, so near her. In her protective embrace slept her darling infant. The fiend peered further in, then drew back and in commanding tones whispered to his two comrades: . "What you do, do quickly, get all you can, and hasten to return." Taking the lantern, they disappeared; but after the absence of about thirty minutes, he feasted his gloating eyes on the rich masses of gold and silver ware, jewellry, &c. "'Tis well," he said, and glided into the quiet Chamber of his innocent victim. With the- stealthy step of a cat, he crouched towards the head of the richly cunained couch, drew forth a small plaster, and pressed it quick, and hard over her mouth and face. The shock awakened her, she opened her eyes, but closed them instantly aoain in utter darkness and unspeakable horror; and while she writhed and struggled in painful convulsions, he raised her in his strong arms, and hastily bore her from the room. She attempted to scream, but could not, and she trembled and shivered in his vice-like grasp, as he carried her down the stairs, followed by his accomplices. Tramp, tramp, they" reached the yard, and were bolting clumsily,though stealthily enough through, just as a figure emerged suddenly and hastily, from the darkness of the opposite side of the quiet street, and encountered them at the gateway. " Who goes there?" He exclaimed loudly. "Sacre !" Gritted the foremost one of the three in rage. " Speak quick, or I'll fire," the stranger continued. Just at that moment, the affrighted woman, forcing the plaster from her mouth, uttered a loud shriek. "Draw and sheath your daggers in his heart." Commanded the leader robber, ,in foaming anger. " Beatrice I" exclaimed the stranger, and ere they could . draw with success agaii t rim, fired, ar4 her abductor fell across the avenue, dead, without a groin. At that instant, the moon sailing from behind a cloud, cast hersilvery light athwart theiisavagely drawn weapons. With madness and a howl, they rushed upon him, but ere they could harm him, he had fired again; and at the fourth dis- charge, the three assassins lay bleeding at his feet, and his rescued wife fainting at his side. Bearing her in his arms, he entered his dwelling in the greatest consternation; the servants were just being aroused, and all was confusion and. excitement. Leaving his wife in the care of his servants, he seized a light and hastened out to the scene of blood and death. There lay beside the three corpses their plunder, scattered about the avenue and yard. When he returned to his wife, she had recovered from the fearful effect of her fright. They were soon joined by two or three of the patrol, who having heard the firing, hastened with considerable difficulty in finding the place, of the scene of distress. Stumbling over the dead bodies, they entered the dwelling, and received in brief detail, the true phase of the matter from the husband, Sinclair Duval, as he had found it on his return. The consequence was, that by a coroner's jury he was fully acquitted, it-being sustained that he acted solely in self-defence, in the protection of his wife and his property. True, as the robbers had surmised, Sinclair was absent, but they little thought, that by his anxious wife, his return was hourly expected, hence the rear entrance lleing left unfast, and the burning lamp was in the wife's chamber awaiting him. He thus returned in the proper nick af time, hence the attack and defence as we have given it. The stolen gold and jewelry, was taken care of. and the three men examined. The first one uncloaked was M. Dafrone, the Jesuit and Secessionist; the second was a' younger man, a member also of the" League." They approached the third, who wore not only a cloak, but a dark mask also. Removing the cloak, theylifted the mask from his pallid face; his attire was black, while a soiled white cravat, circling his neck, contrasted strangely with his dingy disguise, and the plundering circumstances, under which. he was found. As they passed the light still closer to his death-marbled face :- " Heavens !" Exclaimed Beatrice in the greatest surprise, "how is this, what means this mystery ? Lawrence Livingston a bandit a thief, an outlaw ? just Heaven, how changed 1" It was true, the unmasked assassin and plunderer, disclosed unmis. takably, the features, and person of her old acquaintance, Lawrence Livingston, the murderer of Cecelia, the accomplished roue, and priestly hypocrite, alias Milford Melville. All were astonished, but after their surprise had abated, the three men were quietly buried, as malefactors deserve. Within a small inclosure of wild-briar and thickly foliaged .trees, situated near the romantic borders.of the Ashly river, and within a mile of the city of Charleston ; two men met for duel, the cause of which was developer at a ball a few evenings previous. in the fol- *1 IF THE WHITE SI AVh. 77 page: 78-79[View Page 78-79] 78 sTAN oI, lowing manner. One of the genilemei not satisfied altogether with his own lady, took occasion to express in an enthusiastic strain, his deep adoration for one whose hand was already engaged to another, tis present antogonist. Henry Darnell was a young lieutenant, frequently off duty,. -takiing the-privilege of flirting with Araminta. pouring in her charmed ear, the honied words of love; and pressing his suit with it aridue degree of perseverance. Timothy her spirited oetrothed' detetmih&d to be revertged , very carefully 'wrote on a dieet of d6iecately cehte'd and tinted paper, a challenge to Mr. Datridll, sk riig strongly of birlletrand bloodshed. It was accepted, .tid they nsit to 0rove by powder ahd ball, the predominant right if orie or the they to the rnitohless Ararriinta. Pillington and his 4ecdnd, Muizf 14lorttiniot, vwer promptly on the spot, and Timothy hinted aiisusly to his ffiefid, of taking his foe by surprise, arid not .allow himself tl staid a tatget for the scientific aim of the ball of .nis at onist. "lut here conies the scuip ifbW:" Said Muzzy. As tari I)arniell's batauehe appeared suddenly in the enclosure )f the dense thicket, and stopped soene fifty paces from them: TImohep cobl, aid be brave, make good use of your nerves Timothy." "A*, my lIeavis, let me fire now, Ani save my life." Said timothy, With coisiderable eatitenent. tNay, Pillingiton, act not so cowardly. Command your metal, and stand up and inet him like a iran, honorably" Harry Darnell sprang lightly frot his carriage, neatly attired in a pretty blu4dress of his 'iuteiitenny; his boat fitting him closely, was buttoned up tightly to the neck, and on his head rested a neat blue both a ile a he turned towards his second, his gold encasd sw* , and silver mbtiited pistol, flashed and glittered in the sub, "Tit you have fight hi h" "1 an ready to send=='; Muzzy; suppose I get killed, what will bedorne of pbor Arry? O Muzy, Muzzy 1" "My od; Tirh, doi't faint, Or aou will be sure to get shot ; here take some of this, and it will steady your head." Said Mortimore, xtendiig hiri a bb618 .of good btirdy. Timothy placed it to his lips amid dfirdtig'hi small ig4ed ftifge towards Heaven; swallowed what might, without -e*gstatibh be termed a full five finger tody. H ding badk the bottle withi adifgh he said: o it ~y giV iit y r h4ad, I'think I'm ready. 0, Muzzy; take mylast arewell o Arryndther I proved true-" wl:' Replied ortheore' Go -speak t his friend?' Said Darhell to his second, who immediately left his side, and approached Mortimore to arrange preliminaied necessary on, sunh oceaSiofs. " What is his choice of-di tance.'. Said he to Muzzy. "Thirty.five paces." THIu wrTE SAYS. 79 } i I #} 11 They stepped it oft and in a few m' tes more, aftr taking leave of each otherthe combatants stood'i theirallotted places, Mortimore extended Timothy his pistol, whieh the latter relieved timidly, letting it almost drop, soon as it tonehedlhis hand. ".Tut, tut, Titn, it is time to be in earnest, and lay aside this trifling, for I don't want you shot on my hands, no how." Said Muzzy reproaehfully. .Goodness, gracious, Muzzy, I have not thought till this moment, this is the first time I ever handled a pistol , O, Muzzy, Muzzy, is there no other way to settle this ?" " There is i but Tim you have got to fight now, as you have pro- gressed so far.. You shall not trile with me in this manner, get me to come out here to aet as your second, simply to exhibit your own cowardice, and make an ass of me. No, Tim, you must fight." 0, iny God, Muzy ; think, I have never fired a pistol in my life. 0, if Arry only knew this, it would prove her death. o, Muzzy, Muzzy, what is that word that quieted the late slave agitation in congress ?" ' Compromise, you fool !" "Compromise, that will settle this afihir, without us shooting one another ; tell him Mui, I don't ;*ant to shoot him, tell him I will coinprotiiise."_ "How can von omtproise honorably? the question of dispute between you, is the possession of Ararnita, who will prove a fortune -or life, to whoever possesses her. .Are you willing to relinquish her giving up forever al claim upon her'!i you are, then I've' nodoubt you cancompromise, one sided and unfair as it may prove." -Relinquish Aramintal! no Muzzy, never, Araminta or death; sounds, Muzzy, I will fight." The ,time was called, and the weapons levelled at each other. Timothy trembled from head to foot. The word was given, and Timothy reeled and fellto the earth, fortunately, unharmed, though he knew not whether he was dead-or alive, hi had fainted completely away. Darnell also,-remained unsohattered, Timothy's ball having passed through the cap of Harry's second. Mortimore ran to',the relief of his friend, and asertaining hastily, that he was not wounded; he dashed nearly the entire contents of the brandy bottle in his face, and bathed his temples and brow, until he revived. . The first words that arose to his lips, after he recovered, were---" 0, Arryl--1uzzy !' We must now acquaint the reader further in regard to our, and Pillington's friend, Muzz Mortimore. Having filled the position of the black-mouthed sean ai-mongr, in Philadelphiauntilhe became universally known and scorned, he succeeded by dint of deceit, in disposing of his two penny "Eye behind the Scenes," he started South, on a tout of private speeClation, for the rancid abolitionists In a word, he lectured on Slavery, and assisted the slaves, when he could, to -escape. But on an occasion,-+subsequent to the duela~da which he unwitingly, attempted to depict in, all their dark and squalled coloring. the wanton cruelties of African Slavery, he was very J. % page: 80-81[View Page 80-81] 14u .UmANR,. anceremoniously struck in .the rear,-with arr article of wood, closely resembling a rail, in the hands of a company of the sporting, "baser sort." A it struck Muzzy, it followed the well directed course of its conductor, and glancing aside,it appeared between his trembling pins," in the front, where it was ,seizedEby the other half of the companyand hastily elevated to their shoulders, allowing the lower extremities of Muzzy, dangling in the air, far above the hooting, huzzying crowd. Poor Muzzy, quivering in every fibre of his body, with fearful apprehension, grasped the rail, and clung to it with both hands for dear life, fearful of falling headlong to the street below, where, should he not kill himself in. the fall, he would run a great chance of being trampled to death by the aroused populace, who, both white and black, were following him with terrible bellowing confusion,.groans and hisses. Some laughed and jeered the fanatic abolishionists, while others, cursing him as ;the representative of the whole of them, threw stones, clubs, dead cats, and " bad eggs" at him, with a terrible vengeance, bruising his body in a painful manner; n-the midt of which, he yelled to them at the top of his voice, to only spare his life, and he would leave, and never desecrate their soil again. Amid a renewed rourid of huzza's, they suddenly stopped in the centre of a large field, without the least admonition, they let him drop to the ground, until he howled with very pain. But they seized and stripped his clothing from him, when two large negroes, taking thim by ;the shoulders and hair, and two more his feet, were commanded to plunge him in the large tub of, Tar, which had been freshly prepared to recieve him; it covered every inch of his body, nearly suffocating him.,. They then turned from the tar, and with the 'same grasp tossed him into a massive heap of small, light, downy feathers, and rolled him over and over, until they saw he could endure it no longer, when, they assisted him to his feet, and again elevated on the sharpest edge of the rail, where he presented indeed the novelest bird in all creation, the most ludicrous biped, ever feath- ered.. Their noise: an4V sport now was terrific, which they kept up with frightful clamor, :until they reached the river ; where, after making preparations to rescue him from drowning, they plunged him head first overboard; he struck the water with an awful plunge, and after sinking. twice, he was drawn out, and christened "Moses." As he once again struck on terra firma, he begged for his life most pitiously;-- "Oh, for God's sake men, allow me to leave, do not kill me quite, let me go I". "That we are now ready to do, so prepare to obey orders, and never exhibit your ugly "mug," in South Carolina again."' ".Never; '0, never." -Muzy gasped.. . " Well, now, right about face,,and stand do North ; .that's it, now propel locomotive, as fast as hell will let you, or the next thing you hear will be the yelp of the hounds after you'- So locomote. icy. hey, l'urra, ha, ha, ha.!" TE WHITE SLAVE , 81 He did "-locomote," fast as his feathered limbs would carry him. He ran, but whither he knew not, he only knew he was leaving his worst enemies ; so he sped on, on, over field after field, until he could proceed no further, but nearing a road, he sank down exhausted, beneath a large tree ; He groaned, and wept, and fell asleep.' Whe n he awoke,-the sun was shining down upon him, in all his meridian strength. He arose to his feet but his head ached to such a degree. that he reeled and fell against the tree, to the earth, where he lay i n unconsciousness- until- aroused by a teamster who chanced to pass. that way. He approached. him first with great caution, or to us o his own remark, he did not know, until he spoke, whether he was a human being, or a large bird resembling the Ostrich.'Muzzy aroused himself as well as he could, and informed the inquiring teamster of the cause of his present uninviting appearance. His first:prayer was for something to assist him to remove from him his unpleasant coat- ing of Tar. Water he knew would but add to its cohesion to his body; but the generous teamster readily suggested-a plan and an article, by which it could be removed; It was his pot of grease which he always carried swinging under his wagon, and which he proffered to Muzzy with his assistance to " peel" off the stuff. pro viding it did not delay him too long on the road. He commenced by besmearing the unfortunate Mortimore from head to foot with the grease, until, as he stood .erect, he glittered in the sun like a new "black mug." At length, with a degree of joy, to Muzzy, of greater magnitude than that exhibited at his birth, they succeeded in releavine him- of nearly all of hid unenviable suit of black; but he was without clothing, the teamster, however, did all in his power to supply him, he gave him a pair of " Qveralls," with which the mortified Muzzy encased himself, took his leave of the good'teamster. and struck across the fields towards the nearest boat landing. in North Carolina. --It happened to he not so near as he had vainly hoped, for he travelled the remainder of the day without reaching it, and ight setting in, and there being no dwellings within sight, he once again betoook himself to the inviting shelter of a stately tree. Selecting the 'softest stone" he could find for a pillow, he once more latid him down exhausted, to:rest. The 'night, after drenching him with a good, refreshing, southern shower, of which, however, he knew nothing until next day,-passed away, and four or five hours of the following day. When he again opened his eyes, he looked dp, and not the bright canopy of -Heaven, nor the good old tree where he had lain-but the neatly white-washed ceiling of a comfortable chamber. " Where am I l" was his first thought. He attempted to raise up from the couch to'satisfy himself, but found himself so weakened by his late ill-luck, that he fell back powerless to the pillow. " My God1 Pm somewhere, that's certain, and alive, but 0, how sick." A stranger approached the bed-side, in the person of a beautiful Quadroon slave. She was his attendant, appointed to take care of him, and minister to his wants. I. page: 82-85[View Page 82-85] I CHAPTER XVL H Lay still, and be quiet, massa; 'tis nassa's orders." Said ihe with diffidence. " Where am I t and who is your master? tell ne, whose hotse ari I in?" 91You're in niassa Goodmran's house, he found you early dis morn. ugr down'in do swamp, undet a tree, And took you in till you get well, and he tell me I must watch you, and when you wake to give you something -to eat." "Odbless you, for I am almost famished, so do if you please, Ad tell your faster, Mr. Goodman, I would like to see him, that I nay thank him for his kind treatment, 'tis the first I've recieved for several days."£. "She hurried from the room, informed her master that the " gerr. men Was awake," and son was on her return with a large waiter, containing a wholesome and refreshing repast for her patient. Mr Goodman entered the room with her, and approached the bed-side of the sick man. "Well, Sir," said he humanely, "you are recovering, I seer and am happy to find you s ; for had you remained uitill now, where you were last night, and part of this morning, you must surely have perished." "My dear sii, we are strangers, but you have saved my life, and therefore I cannot be too grateful to you for your generous and 4is- interested regard; for thisuntill Iamn able to render a more substantial return, hod bless you!" said Mortimore with tears He was, the first time forb many years broken u1, and penitent. - Stay r no tanks, *o thanks- I have done my duty, in assist- ing a fellow creature from misery and distress, and probably, death. No thanks, but add to my pleasure now, by partaking freely, of this meal, it will strengthen, and refresh u." Mr. Goodma was one of those £lanter so often met with through out the South. le was humane and generous, everything about him bespoke wealth, health, happiness, and comfort. His slaves, though he would ownbut afew,he educated andtau httorespect andreverence the true spirit of ehristiarnity-"Good *il toI.' l And unlike some of his neighbors, he believed his slaves to be human beings, and so rewarded them. Muz Mortimore' ate heartily of the meal Set be ore hii, was arrayed in a much better suit of clothing, and was goon on board the cars for the North. 88'- ,in the di~e while, after sdffdrkig far more than the Iit dapabte (f desdieig, afid after Waitig atleas eigha months fdt his uduees, Jan thinaeOd by a- carefully hateured stratigerni to efreet his escape ttom the siai' thihe if Whirh he wa eS treacherously inereerated, aid whleh *ell ,i h proved his et rhal tomb. Released from his Moyse' tht-t pi'ri=hoUse bandage, by sciceting himself during the day, Aid tra elli m by right in disguise, utitl he found himself beyond tIhe dorfitea of *heie he was likely to be detected, he finally after migny sore trrel5 afid uel hafdships, reahed Havana, where after +e iaiifi g a few datys to -teadl hi stefigth, atid refit "d person, he engaged passage in a °thul cabdbodt to ai-ftt the United States. AfeWnfidedaVd*d t oitefed Afd i4 nd - &beautiful af ettnfa they Gassed6d of the hay and einteredotheir Voyage fortheUnited Statesa . he vessel, though e rfi table; Wa tall;' aid Woulddtary but a idiited hukhbet of passdtger5, aming whoix ia the present niprthere eze three l idid, the f6t Wete Men. the captain as a tinddle aged man, of swarthy boiplemodi and of Spadish' origih, he coma 'ataed the little craft in Which he f ow tailed f tn a -unber of -vedri. lis riaie Was Cararco', to his esstsh e1 ge the name of hid Wile, hsal. His nirew was made up of Spahiarde and Americans, nid itw o h0g& slaves. Dring thei± first d y out, Juan did not O stir hitsel mriudh, he had been sorely fatigued, and the dancing ..1 the Vessel 'oef ' the fdahiing *Waves seemed to prove a soothing iailii' t his' aching body. He kept his rootn partakig also of a alh, rieshihg sleep: O the a eid day, he miingled more with El paieager', j14 thus ido arnmber of neW acqaintances, a sang thcer lhe ladies bdf6te lehbtioned, one of whom u Ibund to be ar ititeigent afrd aniable Creoe maiden, who was 1i totapany *ith hOt father, sailitig to Artiioay With view of making it thet her tuother had died and he was -onning in search of a luted biroihe, Who h d preceded then on their journeys -E$he was a beu ti hl girl,- scarielf eighteen, possessing all the cha es, and bewitching endedtmnents of her 'dad'k.eyed Olive race: The feelings of eat thflilled sttaigelf, aid 6teir eyes iglafced thou htSa their lips trembdd to eaek. Jel ti loVed the beattif l lIe, and at the sound of ht' soice of passkai her eipture soul thltit ihld *Wllingniess ard trust. Their confeI'ehces aduot re nie fteqent' And thus While dat by day Juan is rapted tip in the serene and uni. aloyed aftetlotih-f the beautiful girl, his sol in the' blest vision firgets all the past"'" Joy quickeis hieapulses alihis hardships seem o'er.I" Towards a clear, calm evening, Whet about two days -rHE WRITS SLAYS. page: 86-87[View Page 86-87] sail from New Orleans, whither they were bound-the scenery around- them was picturesque beyond the power of language to portray-the whole company were on the deck of the Isabel, admiring the sublime beauties around them; on one side, or rather by themselves, stood Juan and Inez. Around them lay the broad expanse of waters, calm and unruffled as a glassy lake. From the. west the setting sun shone forth in a flood of Vermillion light, that sheetedthe Heavens apd4.the sea in a vast mirror of- pellucidbrillancy which tinted the skimming sea gull as ever and anon he darted up from the reflective waters, -with all the roseate mellowing lustre of the rainbow. An hour passed away, and the monarchof day, "behind the .light crimsoned hills of the west, sank proudly to rest." The Isabel still sailed on, and steered quietly through the waters at a moderate rate. Presently, where the sun disappeared, a small dark cloud was seen to arise, and as it ascended to the arch of the darkning horizon, it gathered in blackness, thickened in density, nd expanded until the whole heavens hung over the sea like a vast covering of black marble over a tomb. Gloom! gloom! seemed to be the onlyfeeling to which the heavy atmosphere gave pulse. With a universal feeling of speechless awe, all on board the Isabel, save the captain arnd crew, turned to their berths, or the Cabin. Hastily the vessel wasprepared to encounter the corning storm, which soon broke over therm in all its fury. The sea that before had been com- paritively calm, now lashed into foam, and while the shrill voice of Boreas blew around them the hurricane gale, the high roaring waves, dashed over the laboring Isabel, with wrecking violence and strength,, filling all hearts with dismay and their trembling breasts with prayer. The loud, dirge-like groan of the spheres, rolled gloomily above them in the thunder's sullen rage, led 'on by the lurid glare of the lightning's incessant flashes, dancing over the turbulent waters, as countless death torches, but to light ahd allure them into engulphing destruction. For several hours the little craft darted over the waves, with her precious charge of human life, and rode the storm with something like living hope to those on board. But, ah !- luckless fate, hapless joy,the intoxicatingchalice, is destined soon'to be dashed from their lips, and.the lightning's red glare but prove their wild escort to the vast hidden depths of the fathomless abyss. By a sudd-en, and powerful lurch, the Isabel was tossed on her side and ere she could be righted, filled, foundered and sunk.; How shall we describe the fearful shrieks of that little band of human souls within her, as, they fel :her descending down, and down to the horrible silence of the deep. Amid the thuntler's.loud crash, the lightning's peireing glitter and the fierce wind's wild, howl,. they sank down unheard, and "the death-angel flapping his broad wings over the wave," shrouded: them in eternal sleep. But twohours later,.and by the moon's pale beams, two survivors of the wreck were seen floating and found: ering about the dark waters, seething and boiling, yet with their late conflict. They were Juanand Inez.. As the' Iabel went down, her planking broke, and some of it parting assunder, proved thank Heaven I 87 I +4 I THE WHITE SLAVE. e a kind of raft upon which Juan and his Creole maiden were now floating; all save these have perished, and thus for twenty-four hours they foundered over the surf and foam of the angry element, that had swallowed in death their late company-until when about six hours sail from the city of New Orleans, they were picked up by an outward-bound vessel, the captain of which kindly consented to 'bout ship and land them in- the crescent city. Arrived there ahd communicating the news of the wreck, and the saving of but two out of seventeen to tell the tale, naturally drew around them for several hours, quite a crowd of interested inquirers, and gaters whose only impi se was curiosity. On the knowledge thatthe two survivors had lost all, becoming known among the gathering crowd,"a'sub- scription was started by some philanthropic gentleman among them, and quite a snug sum was raised and handed over to Juan, to appro- priate to the necessities of himself and companion. - He received it with heartfelt thanks, while the fair Inez, as she stood by his side, could express her feelings for tile voluntary kindness, only in, many tears of gratitude. After this, and the captain who had picked them up had cause to be thankful by the reception of a handsome present tendered him by the same persons who acted so liberally towards Juan and Inez. When he left the pier again, to pursue his voyage out, it was amid the greatest cheering, and the many good wishes of those who so loudly saluted his departure. Juan andthis companion had nearly succeeded in making their way through the dense throng which had crowed around them, when he was surprised to encounter th 'enquiring gaze of his early friend, Sinclair Duval, they met face to'face, and for a moment of uncertainty which grew painful, gazed at each other. Juan was the first to recognize his friend, in an instant he rushed to embrace- him, calling him by name, he was likewise remembered. "1Why, Juan, is this indeed you or do my eyes decieve meI? It is, as I live, my friend Juan I" "1Sinclair, how oportune to meet you thus-my name was Juan once, but I have changed so since, .I know not that I am the same." "What has happened-and what means all this throng following you ?" "0, Sinclair, surely Heaven has sent you to meet me ! This is my companion in a portion of my dangers, if you will conduct us to a dwelling, where I can tell you all, I shall be most happy to do so.. Fsay.cs, for where I am, I wish her to be also; her name is Inez." 'Sinclair bowed politely to the beautiful girl, and moved towards- the city, accompanied by Juarrand his happy betrothed. -'The sudden surprise upon meeting Juan was suchon. Duvars mindthat'for'severa. minutes, .unable to collect himself, he;did not think of Juan but as an-old acquaintance or friend, the thought that since his absence, he had become a relative, a close relative, to him, did, not s yet enter his mind. But as they hastened alongtalking upon various matter 86 JUANoa, page: 88-89[View Page 88-89] I $8 JUAN OR, and when Juan asked him if he was living in the Atty, and if he ; as Sf3RIED yet, he started in a mag of astonishment, induced by.anew train of Ah!gggts, opened by J a n's last question "iye ;ns, Juan! forgive rue thisastupidity. What do I not forfeit by . I everthoght until this moment, we are relatives, Married, an4etrice is my wife." 1 aid surprised, yet not :much, the, surprise is agreeable, and I g thakffl that we are thius related. Sinclair I wish you all hap- p eeh_ senes of su a ring and charge through which I have Passe4Ve chsged rmy a ed,-materially, from what it was. I am now a iteredsan, and thisenoment.I feel if Beatricewouldreciheve SIwp m throw myslf 4e y peniteatat her feet, and supplieate her forg vnvs #r all ta l,.aye ever thought and acted against her. h nelarwould she relieve me ag i " She would, most gJe4ly, forher feelings, alsohave undergone very great change twarcds you,since you left, from which cause we may:speak anon,; but here we are'.at the door, this is mr home. what surprise " -eaying he entered his own mansion, inviting Juan and the beap- tiful Inez to follow. They stepped into the hall filled with emotions pecuiar and strange. Beatrice was not in the parlor when thy entered; but Sinclair, ringing a small bell, summoned a servant, who soon formed his mistress, in another portion of the house, that his master was awaiting her presence in +the front parlor. She descended, and entered the room; her eye ?in an instant passed from one person to the other, till resting upon her husband solicitous of fn explanation. Change of climate, and the severe privations con- sequent on being immured in the slave -mine of Peru,,had -wrought eh .a change upon Juan,,that she did not know him. Juan, likewise though scarce able to suppress his emotions, prompting him to fall at her feet,;seemed to wait Sincla 's introduction; he saw this, and controling his own feelings, he made outto stammer: :"Beatrice you must pardon me for this-surprise, it could not be prevented ; for ace it has thus" been happiness to me, I knowthat. I would not present it if I could. Do you not remember Juan?. the lady Inez is an acquaintance made on board ship, while on their way to this city.. They have been ship wrecked " He ceased speaking. and Juan and Beatrice were in each othre embrace. They wept tears of deepest contrition, and the beautiful, sympathetic lnez joined in. their joy. But soontears gave place-t o hearty congratulations. of peace, gladness and good will. That evening's repastiaas more happy and lively than their evening meal had been for several month. ,Theirlttle banquet over, and a ;scene occurred, if"possiblestillhappier, the union ini the sacred -_irlet ot marriage, of Juanandthis spanish betrotbed. At eSinlairdareq uest,; affectionately enforced by thekindieart of Beatrice, theceremony was perfordied in their ownhouse, te whidh, tof course they added their presence and also a-splendid entertainment. a trwas indeed, a happy scene, particularly the charming Inez, even though her thoughts I THY wIE SLAVE. - 89 intervals reverted to the late.perilons situation on the sea to whids sne- was exposed, but from which she had been saved by him who was now her husband. She h*ed lost her father in the wreck, iad - followed her mother to the tomnl while yet quite young, and seemed almost alone in the world; but as the wife of -Juan she was happy, for he seemed both husband and father, all in all to her. A large portion of their honey moon was passed in the mansion of theDuyas. Sinclair took an early occasion to inform- Juan of several, eents which occured during his long absence. They were closetedtogether one day for two or $hree hours. " Well,.Juan," said Duval as they entered and seated themselves iii a private apartment of his house. "What in the world did you do with yourself in Spain, did you enter her Majesty's serviee,or did the published card prove no more than what I afterwards suspected, a mere ruse to entrap you I ive -me an account of your sventf!4 doings since you left." "ThatSinclair, I can never do in language sudficientlycompre hensive, to: convey to you the extreme depth of the sufterigs, anxiety and torture I endure, and a miracle it is, that lam alive to- day, for there was a time I did not expect this, yea, prayed that death might prove to me a messenger of mercy, and rid me of a life that had, become to mie, in the n ynes of Peru, a useless burden." " Peru,---why were you there I-and in the silver mines ,- "Sinclair, I have :since lo ed upon myself as the object of a fully invented plot, a .deep laid oheme, conspiracy pursued to traffic in my flesh; in this plot I have been passed from cit to city, from ship to ship, and from one-country to another; and final, handeuffed and shackled with'irons, deposited in the nne, as in the very tomb of slavery,, and left there to die; and so I expected when I saw the company I was cast in-saw the moving skeletons that Qunee were hail, hearty men-the heaps of human benes that lay in various parts, of the subteranean hell It Sinclair you will excuse my vehe- mence; they are nothing else, ustly they can be called byno other name, uat. indeed is a mild term for those channel-pits of :Spim And then the very stench that :arose from them was enough, and eftedid prove deatl. to those poor victims, that have, as I have ben forced there to die and rot, while they who have sold them, are rpvel ling i 'the ill-gotten wealth accumulated in this dastardly brses.e Oh, what human being is sufficient to unfold the vast scroll thatehull reveal to the astonished world the base deceptions blasphemy, and forgeryof man sl)il h;is fellow m0and~n con~signmng hito up~inie miseryi or quded onl by the perod of is life. None are skdnt for those things; but it willrequire the power and omniscience of the supremeJu ge of the universe at -the great day of final seovnt t-o,.Sinclair,We are here ieMthe mdst of slavery, yet inJtAhink there being t i n divine revelation,when that reat a nr d t herri day arrives, andth iemiaculat and impartial judge unr9ls the *mig cm i. trev aalaall the dark places of the each}, thehabittiyoppresita wo bean r 4I , . : : * / 911., ' i k , 1 , 4' '' 's fan ^_ '. s page: 90-91[View Page 90-91] 90 tI .ii '11 over his fellow, with a cruel hand, crushing him to the dust, ana traficing in his body and soul, the Heavens will roll back aghast, and all faces will gather blackness, the mountains and the rocks fly from the spoiler and oppressor, crying for them to fall on him, and hide him from the face of the Judge. They will seek death to rid them of remorse, but death, by the command of the Deity, will fly from them ! But Sinclair I am wandering from myself; suffice -it that I escaped, and once more breathing the pure airof Heaven, felt as though I was but dreaming of the flowers and fields of Elysian, for I could scarcely realize my escape, so great was my joy. But by great assiduity and fatigue, I after many days found myself in Havana, where shipping for this place, I set sail in the ill-fated Isabel, made the acquaintance, of her, who, thank Heaven, I am happy in calling'wife,-was shipwrecked on a tempestous and dismal night, was found afloat by the captain,-God bless him-who brought us safe to land." " You have, indeed been the subject of adventure, to say the least of it Juan. But I need scarcely inquire your feelings towards Capello or Verree. Could you forgive him, or do you still retain your vengeance against him ?" "Forgive him? Sinclair 1'could, and with all my heart, for my mind, if not my very soul has been transformed since my departure from America, and did I but know where to find him I would go. and embrace him as my father, and hope -to obtain his forgiveness. Such Sinclair are my. feelings for the man, while I at the same time abhor and abominate slavery. To say the least of it, it is wrong, and unjust." " Capello is dead." Said Duval. Juan for a moment surprised, started at the sentence, and echoed- "Pierre VeVrce,'Capello dead ?-" "He is." "'Tis true ?-how did he die? Sinclair did you see him die? was ais end natural or foul-speak, I would know-" Sinclair, controlling his emotions at the thought of his own parent's iceath, brushed a tear aside and replied: '" He was found dead with my own father, in a reserved old build- ing in this city, that gave evident marks of having been struck by lightning on the previous night. Their bodies when discovered were horribly mangled by the angry fluid-" " Heaven pardon Verree, as I at this moment forgive him! For the, death, Sinclair. of your parent, I sympathize with you; but is it not strange they should be thus destroyed in company, were they so intimate ?" "Yes, they had grown quite intimate just before their peculiar fate. Father becoming engrossed in the political changes .of the South, particularly the Secession movement of his native State, bet very extravagantly, and lost a large portion of his wealth, he finaH-' became indebted to Capello, and hence their intimacy, which I a m inclined to believe added nothing to his life or his reputation." 1113 WEITI SLAYS. I . 'Tis sad,''tis very sad,-but have you ever heatxd of that viram Livingston?-" "Hn I shot-" aWhati did youmay you - shot him, Sinclair ?" Doubted J'ian, scarcely believing what heheard. " Yes,onenightlast Fall, as Iwas returning homelate,Iencountered him, with two others, in the act-of carrying away my wife and silver plate---I met them just as they were about.tpftake theirfinal leave of 'pep sArawing myrevolver, I cmianded thento speak, iieh 9x. of ~llrndia " with an oath. "Batrice'screaied and I fired, thetone : w had her concealed}beneath his cloak, which was Liv- ingstrn, I; ithe rn ' ining itwmerbithebtowards rah, but before they rce '4 me hy ss.lywihter edr the gat ay,,inathe icyemb ac d4 t.-iy coroner' jury, I was w adqftted of all ,are-+' k -_ } JUAN Oa, .. - t } ., , , - . ' r _ r , s o . 4 page: 92-93[View Page 92-93] w. f j T.E WsETE SLaV. 9, rI t i sexx 1COA, CHAI ER XVII. . t AMERiCAN JVGdERN e o We pad gulty, in romancing, of at least"one great fault, that offlin from one citpr to apother'in an incredible short space of time: lit frm Lomisiana t Pennsyl an a is'bdt a few hours ride from New Orleans to I1hiladelphia but short{ and pleasant journey. 'rhe day on which we revisit our long loved City,thopgh warm, is . one'of great and gncralrejoiming; the'streets'andnterouspublic . aices 'are fild with thousands" of l90th 'sexes, ' hose' familiar and laughing, ?aces, girq tokep of glad hearts. The ,stars and stripes the American enign of freedoin sflatisging brilliantcoors, pproydl from many a lofty emrinence. The; military and otherhvarious oder' and assocationsof ien afadi' gdiro dl artso the ciy; and non the loud bo of thecanno'slihei charge, is heard amid the ringing of ke i, sand the melowst rpms of martial and other music,f'Tis the gli 'day tht everglorious fourth day of July, commerative of a frec haionsb wkk But.in a, .eautifui rove sorpe. two mile& out'from the city, all nature is blushing in ripening bloom, and around the spot selected! are congregated some eightor ten mus ~ d men.' Midvay f the shady nook.,is erected a spacious "staging for "public speaking," around, or ratia in'front of itna etendingfar up the :rising ground, temporary but sulstantialt seats are nicely avenged for those who may choose to3eseated during the; discursiveJubiliant. Infront of the platform n4 immediately above tohspeaker, a largeiromnzed, egle spreads .foithihis protective, wings over thevast assembly, while round android the stand the American flag, by whose stripe . . we are healed, is tastefuv entwined circling the makes in the ree inspiringgrdle of liberty. 'he ,audh rice had Iisened to the first speaker, bemuelMi er, with inarked atte tion,; diate crtie "pro- gress of Libertyin the;NewWrld.' They band struck inp and layed' with. patriotic eloquencedthe clsarpiing: national air, "Hail 'lumbia, happy land 1-The'secondspeakert amid a hearty round of applause, arose; and glanced over the d astigathering iohuman life,.with ahn lrn and re+tant smnilef.'He as a man tall nddignified' though familiar an d ch'i=feland- inmtl e pheof life'Hailf lhnd-t,-ing'Hada g'a at 'thefirst }ine of' the ,national gern, just played. "Yes; fiiloAe dtiiens in eontrastl with . unfortunate and, betrayed Hungary, priest ridden Italy and Spain, Monarchal England, or the'down trodden surfs of Russia, oppressed by the iron rule ofa despote-we, hail with joy the fair land of Columbia. 'Let the glad anthem-fly upon the pinions of liberty, from nation to nation, encircle the world, and from every valley and fror every hill top, ascend in sweet intense to him who is :Oevel stingg 'Governor among the Nation.' Let the trees elap their hands and rl the world rejoice with us to-day. Hail, all hail, American brothers, a people highly favored of Heaven! A land of industry and art, a land of milk and honey, of plenty and of peace. ' Land of the free, to which the missionaries point the heathen with rapture, as a type of the holy"realm of peace, rest and repose inm Heaven. The Elysium, of earth, bearing to man, all that is desirable to make him happy aind blest., But as the serpent of old defiled the happy Eden of our first parents.so is the aurse of Afriein slavery blighting with accumulating misery and}sufferin', the airest and most fruitful soil beneath the*canopy of Heaven. es, amid all our rejoicing to- day, Ihear with 'pain, the.loud -Vail of at least two million of human slaves in the United States.- I see their squalid nd decrepid con- dition in sickning contrast 'with the sum tuous.life of.their masters. Let us visit onea.0f the slave marts of the South, press throughthe crowd of negro brokers to the auction-room, where humanity like an article of , merchandise, is knocked off to- the highest bidder. See the children,,the father, the mother'striped of their clothing and despite their shrinking modesty, pincfied and examined like beasts on sale. The bidding is conducted in eager competition. One after the other the children are knocked off, and seperated, one here, one there, and another elsewhere; hundreds perhaps thousandsof miles apart. Whatnembracing, and weeping-follows these sales. ' The father, mother,.husband axed wife for years, grown all in their love for each 'other, 'next are sold, the one to a stern old planter in Geotgia the other perhaps to go to the cotton fields or rice swamps of Louis- iana. All, are separates for tlue, regardless of the ,unspeakable pangs of grief felt in the agonized breast of each unfortunate vassal, but theyare driven like' cattle to their bondage quaters. This some .have the inhuman assurance to tell us'is sanctioned by holy writ; in the name of all that is holy, just and good; Lask where I Let the divine advocate of Southern slavery, hold up the book and with his vile finger point out the passage, let him proclaim to us, the chapter and verse. It is contrary to'-the very basis of# the revealed religion of Heaven, *'Love thy neighbor as thyself.' 'Do unto others, as you would have others do unto you,'-.was ,.is the ruling spirit of man 'throughout the world, there would riot be a slave on the earth. Slavery, it is revolting 'to all the better natureof-man r contrary to universal nature, whicheverywhere,above,abroadbeneath proclaims in ten thousand voices. Man was created and should remain, equally free. Life, liberty andthe pursuit of happiness is hisinaileinable ight..But the unfortunatee African, though not without his represen tatives in our struggle for freedom from monarchal role, is-too weak, coo soul oppressed,.to plead his cause with success, andhene groan on in toil and pain, with the ng deferred hope of'.meeting with, in ihe world's great ema,n"ipator, Jesus Christ, whom they expect will come fromx Heaven-with; all his mgelic legions at the appointed time. and break the spoiler's rod and redeem those, who have waited foi page: 94-95[View Page 94-95] f1 ' Jt yV a,, ! + ° 'r ; r I t f ; i 4i 4i I t r;. :; f S. 1 i TU 'WUITE LAVN * '95 f V '94 him. That such a doctrine noud pleasetheoppressrisnciostringe, for he very Ahrewdly concludes, that if such a hope prove the means of keeping them content with. their condition,-he willibe the better able to drive a more brisk and proftable trade, for like the unjust Judge, he neither regards tnan nor fears/God. The slave broker, even though he be 'a mrneber of the prevailing sect, does rot believe in the divinity of Christ,'in this they are decidedly Thriar.. Witness their joy and:exultatien at'the burning of a slave on-a plantation in ohe of the states thut a=short time since. , A number of 'the parish riiisters with ainember of negro ownersaeonvened and had a large concourse of slavedgathered fromthe'adjoining plantations to witness ike' bufiingof one of their number. They chained him to a stako securely driven into'the earth, had the- brush wood piled around his quivering boedy,ad applied the -torPh; and while rnid" the poor sufferer's unearthly cries of agopy, the curling flames crackled around ,him, the sanctified, slave-fattened preachers held up-the burning man as an eiarnple of what would be their fate, should they prove n the least disobedient to their masters. The flames still erac;kled around the poor victim ofinhuman wrong, he was destroyed. and the spiee- tators returned to theifrseveral plantations. 'flail Columbia, happy land!1' Heavenbe merciful,'and let not the last great vial of long accumulated wrath'doluge tie entire land for th wrongsof the South. Does Christian lov eacquiesein such cruelty as this? Surely riot; it is a fiendish invention' proving a blotmost:foul upon the escutcheon of our country's honor:- A' deep stain that will require 'years of sincererepentance'tewash away. Ah, happfland! but the bgapiness alas I how mized with'sorrow. Land of th'braverand free, yet the stronghold:of covqtdice, and= the rankAil 6f slavery. Land of civilization and peace'lyet the dark cell of 'tortures, almost rivaling the Spanish inquistioni. Still 'linger we lathe land'of'slavery, amid the stench of the-slave pen, the dismal clinking' of the shackels,'the groans of the oppressed and'the sighs'of sufferings of the mttreated and punished these combine' a sound aching to thesoul, and falling on the earl far from gleasart. \But:the scene changes, and darkness. like that which covered Egypt, when 1Moses stretched this 'magic " . wand over the land of thieslave-holder 'harohl prevails with equal densitythrough the slave hblding'states of Arnericaeall1have strangely become barren and Cold; vegitation has ceased to reward thelaborers' toil, the Vast fields 'of wheat, corn,;rice, tobacco 'and cotton have grown "sterile and 'bare "The darkness is painfuilly felt all nature seems to be stuned/tle ocean stands still-the rivers cease to, flow, and all is awfully quiet; but a low zaurrmpr, disfant Iat first; like the universal hum of insects, on aclear; eold:night. 'Jistening a second, it flows into once uibroken'%sound, neaer and nearer it approaches, louder 'and louder'it sounds- breakin; on tii ear; irn a unearthly wail of misery and dispair like the last shriek in its dying throes of .a broken -heart. It 'approaches to -a terrifijing scream of ibe, it ceases, and is-quiet again. 'A strange,weak light stru'gles toiiquify the darkness, in a great damp mist,'through which, ltfar 'eye L. can scan, the land appears to be a level but fruitless plain; in the centre of which the grim outline of a vast tower,,built o? human bones and cemented with bloodcarises t'-view, andalmost reaching to heaven, reminds us by its height, of the ancient tower of Babel. The tower seems adorned within and without; withevery orna- ment or, attraction that cunning and art can suggest, or wealth command. From the'summit you cansee through the dirn twilight mist, a large black°'fiag bearing in red lettering, the name of the tower-" run 'sLAyi V4MARl.' This momentarily disturbed by a'slight breeze, unfurls 'into. two 'or three ripples, then droops down the black 'staff, with a 'langour sickly to'behold. This great tower, then is the visible, tangable remains of the great Southern Juggernaut, when condensed, but a vst heap of human flesh and bones, the expressimnage of the great slave'mdloch. Mark how the blood oozes from it, and 'falling drop- by dr6p; forms a' dull monotouriy, the only sound 'now heard. But 'see a figure like{a 'shadow approaches a stone' near the. entrance 'of the tower, which.is covered' with an indescribable humid green, like the slime of areptile.' But the figure sees weak and beforehe comimencos the higliascent,would 'rest himself. He sits on the damp=stone,' and in him you distinguish got a man, but only the resemidance of a man. From' a dark;spot fver his heart the thin blood slowly oozes and trickles to his feet; while he yet shivers with weakness and the consequences of crime, 'several others of similar appearance and' character join him at the base of the tower, and withoutopening their lips, with a slight incliiatio of the'headin recognition, they all pit beneath the crushing weight of 'incomprehensible anguish. 'Shuddering in the dense gloom he raises his head weakly and, attempts to speak,; like the sound of wind rattling through askeleton-Libety kath conquered, cursed be she, reverberated through the vast, tomb-like tower4from the base, leaving it at the' top. But ere it dies away, it is, taken up and reechoed, by his blasphemous companions. The effort cost them a more severe spasmtof pain, and while the damp, chilling ruist thickens' the fol- lowing alternately falls from 'their lips- 'It bath happened to you, as it hath happened to me; what has bur fne institutions availed' us at last ' Speaks one in chagrinand anguish. 'Fe thought, faith, and free speech, have' broken the cbains of the blacks. 'Free thought and faith, have emarncipated the serfs." Replied the prowl- ing priests.. 'We have divided those that no man should put' assun Aer; but our oppression has but united them against' us; ouk folly and cruelty has ruined, us.' Said another. "We have sown corruption which has' absorbed= all' our'strength,' murmured the pro- fligate Judge. We bave"&tteinpted to stifle liberty; and the freedom of thepress, but its breath hath withered lour very root.' Breathed the JesuiticalSecessionists, in-sullen gloom. 'Liberty hah conquered accursed be she." 'Reiterated another'vociferiusly. *We have traf- ficted in the souls and bodies of Africa's sons. 'Judas-like sold our i niafleshsand with"'an 'iron sway oppressed the ignorant 'end the weak. 'Now it consumes our vitals and b6ets with rottenes di I 9 s . page: 96-97[View Page 96-97] flower of ourla d, Woo ! woe ! woe! He gasped his owt. damna- tion, and beneath the accumulated weight of leis own corruptioir, falls back exhausted 'But 16! -in earthquake shakes the ground, and the bewely of the trembling erth open beneath the base of the tall tower. It divides in. the, eptrean4for sa moment rocks and quivers as if suspended in mid air. Ar awful ru mbling sound, a terrible convul- sign, and like the -heavy millstone sjnks into the depths of the sea, the vast tower of 'human bones sinks down and down to the depths of the spacious c sm. Will an invisible voice exclaim, 'thus with violence sha 1.ab lon be thrown down and found no. more at all.' But. as the huoe Juggernqut goes down, the black .emblem' on her summit spreaAa forti tp the sheted breezeNand gives in . letters of blood, once more to they gaze of the world,-' The Great Slave Mart;' and to I through t'he mity confusion, and coming swift as on the wings of theInd,.a figure beautiful as a bright summer morn, ' clear as the sup, fair as the moon, and terrible as armyy with banners.' A rainbow offtranslucent. dyes, encircles her brow, while from her polishedfeeti-sheeting thedry desert plain in a spacious sea, issued forth streams and cdashes of liquid light. Calmly she rests above th'oifensive cavern on a strong anchor of massive gold. Her luxuriant auburn ringlets flow bank from her fair open brow in unbouud tresses, extending over the, white satin boddice of her dress, the flowing slkirl.f' which trimmed in gold droops to her satin incased feet in heavy folds. On her head rests a rich velvet cap, spangled with diamonds and silver, while, one hand points majestic. call to Heaven, with the-other she clasps a golden sceptre, with, which,she points in Pmiles to a milk white scroll swinging in triumph from one arm of. the Anchor, and bearing ..letters of gold, 'atuE, LIBERTY IANDIDEPENC.' With the eale's flightshe descends to the eatA, and pressing a seal on the unsightly chasm, closes it, and it so. remains forever. The plain now, which was desolateand dreary, becomelike the garden of E den, and the whole world repeopled with the unnuimbered millions of a new born raee, rejoices and blooms as the rose. Whore the wilderness once stood, life and health diffusing waters break out, an4 streams of holy nectar gush forth from the .desert. The slave-parched ground becomes a pool and the tear and blood, saturated land,-springs living water, instead of the thorn, lo, the nrtle tree, o( peace springs up, and instead of the death-brigr, the r-tree of heahhthe box and the pin. together. And'lo, new mountain start forth, and lifting their lofty peaks to Heaven, they (rop back into the rosy lap of the earth now freeided ,the yswet wine of friendship harmony and love. ' ,na the great nillen iu f;universal brotherhood pureLfreerom's niild reign. Yes Litef antruth, unristiflied with error or the fear of nn, wiL edmacipate the world from misery and woe.' I-is then we may sing consistently-' Hail Columbia. happy land.' But until the curse of African slavery is removed,.the woe pronounced against the 'land shadowing within wings,' consumes the beauty ad ,uengt of the fairest portions of our common country. fla.ste tho 96 " JUAN O! , 1 e t 1111 ......... THE wUTE SLAVE. happy period when a purer liberty shall sway her mild sceptre over the world. and 'a. NATIONS s w- CALL. HERB.EaSED.a - We tward the star of empire takes its wV I The four &hrt acts already past ; A fifth shdIl close the dramaa with the dMy t 'ime's noblest ofapring is sio last." Tlp Leo n haghi ,or the;Ethiopianthis skn; yet once aanIrswear-the ,Slae esl be. free.' ay- ing whichJuan o hero, retired id a eces of deafening applause, while theey forage ofJshed. trees t lofty tops, swayed to and ro, with:the smul aouB and hem. oices of approval. The vastas age ere ' oa, ero ; hand Juan, T" " The sweet sngerwas t:ie appy Thez. Thei hs now in the city, though in company with Beatrice and hSinclair. Adelia and Lemuel Mirston, and the vivacious Louisa, Juaniand Inez pass many iteasant seasons still at the fashionable resort of pleasure, Cape May. - I page: 98 (Illustration) -99[View Page 98 (Illustration) -99] LII II ; ; I .IiIIjtI I Ii 1 I 4t i _I I . I~ tiI ;. 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