Silver Lake, or, The belle of Bayou Luie
page: 0 (TitlePage) [View Page 0 (TitlePage) ] SILVER LAKE; OR, WCte eJIte uf gajpu 4!ut. A TALE OF THE SOUTH. MRS. THERESA J. FREEMAN SAINT LOUIS: P. M. Pinckard, 508 and 610 Pine Street. MDCCOLXVIt. page: 0[View Page 0] TO MY FRIENDS, Mrs. Mattie E J, Loker & Mrs, Sophia E, Schuyler, I MOST AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATE THS BOOK. MRS. THREA J. ILREMAN. page: 0 (Table of Contents) [View Page 0 (Table of Contents) ] CON-TENTS. I .. -.PAGE. -. ; CHAPTERE II. Siiver' tiake, :Manslon .................................. 9 Conversation of Phil an Minta..................... EHAPr ER III. Happy Song of the Field and................. 27 CHAPTBERi. . Col. Huntington's Mo ring ide..................... 4 CHtAPTER V. The Fishing Excursion. ............ ..........38 .. . .....CHAPTER VI. Crowning a May Quee............................... 7 , H A ABPTER VII. Dulzeeka leaves Silver Lake ...................... .. 54 : C E CHAPTER tlII. Dulzeeka enters College ............................ 56. CHAPTER iX. Shadyside.: . ........ 65 ito at APTER x. The Visitors at Winnsborough....................... 77 7'- .....CHAPTER XI. The Village Belles.... . 79 page: vi (Table of Contents) -vii (Table of Contents) [View Page vi (Table of Contents) -vii (Table of Contents) ] VI CHAPTER XII. The Complimentary Party . ................. 86 CHAPTER XIII. The Land Claims ................ 93 CHAPTER XIV. Shadyside and Maggie's Death ..................... 97 CHAPTER' XV. Col. Huntington and Family in New Orleans....103 CHAPTER XVI. The Mexican Maiden.... ........109 CHAPTER XVII On Board the Steamer Eclipse on the Mississippi..115 CHAPTER XVIII. Strange Meeting on the Boat ........................119 CHAPTER XIX. Their Arrival in K1entucky .....................126 CHAPTER XX. Visit to Drennon Springs ..............................133 CHAPTER XXI. Eveleen's First Appearance..........................1388 CHAPTER XXIL. Mrs. Rovington and Mr. Laverde .................146 CHAPTER XXIII. Mrs. Rovington and Dame Virginius.......... 15 CHAPTER XXIV. News from Silver Lake .. ............... ..162 CHAPTER XXV. The Shetland Pony .. .................. 169 CHAPTER XXVI. Biddy and Johnny O'Ryan.................. 174 vn CHAPTER XXVII Eveleen and William Foster........................184 CHAPTER XXVIII. William and Bella. . ...................I91 CHAPTER, XXIX. The Cave Party..............200 CH APTER XXX. The Flight of the Shetland...........................206 CHAPTER XXXI. The Lost Child... ...................2" CHAPTER XXXII. Walter and his Grandmamma-the Portrait......217 CHAPTER XXXIII. Iinta's Departure................. ........ . 220 CHAPTER XXXIV. Col. Huntington's Interview with Walter--Wal- ter's Discovery........ .....227 CHAPTER XXXV. Col. Huntington Admitted into the Sick Room. .238 CHAPTER XXXVI. The Grandmamma in Tears.... ............*.*.* 243 CHAPTER XXXVII. Clara Finds a Brother.... ..... ......247 CHAPTER XXXVIII. The Grandmother's Tears .. ...........................257 CHAPTER XXXIX. Col. Huntington Returns to Drennon....';..... ...260 CHAPTER XL. The Visitors Departing from the Springs.........261 page: viii (Table of Contents) -9[View Page viii (Table of Contents) -9] VIII r. r lRovingtona ........2.. CHAPTER XLII. Cel. Huntington at megain............... CHAPTER XLIII. Wedding at Shadyside. ..... ....d 27 CHtAPTER XLIV. The Old Gardener's yDeatlh.................. CHAPTER XLV. Dulzeeka Leaves College..2. .8....8...7 CHAPTER XLVI. His Uncle Deligo's Will......... ....... CHAPTER XIiVII. Dulzeeka, Estelle and Clara at the Boarding- School.......**-***-*^......* * . 295 CHEAPTER XLYV11. Conversation between- Hattie Martin and her Mamma .... .. . .. ......***'"****"" .*... " ," CHAPTER XLIX. Wedding at Paris, Kentucky.. ............... CHAPTER L. Vacation-Clara and -Estelle at Clifton............31 CHAPTB ER 3LL16 The Picnic Party .......... 8*.*'* ., OHAPTER LIII. Clara meets with M inta, her Yald ............ ..... . CHAEPTER -LIY. Marriage of Irene and lMr. Ilaywpod, and De- nouement ...*... e**^ .*.*.*.*E@' We**.- . 834* flOR0 Ite nt ......., ' ' '" ' ' 'f!" ' "' " '" Sithier Ha'I; ort , tBrt ort of % 0u uitt A TALE' QF THE SOUTH, / , '; - c- ,- - -,,... . , CHAPTER I.. SILVER LAKE MANSION. The light breath of spring was gracefully moving the foliage of the tall cypresS trees, as they bent over the bank of Bayou Lae, reflecting their shad- ows in its clear, still waters; where not a ripple or sound was seen or heard save the snapping of the swan's bill, as she drew up her bowed neck to swal- l ow the beautifal, silvery fish that she caught there. Sweet May had drawn her green mantle over her floral kingdom, and was unfolding her verdant leaves and bright blossoms, wearing gaudy chaplets and variegated garlands of the jassamine, moss-rose, for. get-me-not, heart's-ease and pink, filling the garden, terrace, valley, wayside and meadow. And the fragrance of the clematis and wood- bine, as they climbed up the white lattice, invited the beautiful humming bird to sip of their sweet blossoms, as she flitted by on velvety wing, and was quickly followed by the gay butterfly; for he, too, came to pay his wanton devoirs, then flitted on to some other bright child of the spring, until very bud had been, in its turn, fanned by his page: 10-11[View Page 10-11] 10 .SILtVE LAKE OR, gossamer wing. From his waxen cell the bee came forth to revel, enamored, over the dewy blossoms; to ravage and steal, but not despoil' the sweets, which he only worked into his hive. Hard by a nioth lay concealed in a tender bud, and was feasting on its fragrant treasures; nipped, and presently to be left withering, but that the bee, detecting the felon, applies his rabid sting,'destroy- ing the catiff worm, saves the young blossom, and flits along to his own busy home. Like him, in- deed, the very humblest insect seemed to have emerged from his earthy dwelling to enjoy the loveliness of this fair day, that smiled so brightly over Silver Lake. Meantime sounds as gay, as these saluted the ear from a thousand living voices ;- the whole choir of the woods woke up far and near the merry twittering of the little birds that hopped from branch to branch through the green boughs- told that they, too, felt happy in their waving groves. Occasionally a fleecy cloud passed over the golden sun, throwing, for a moment, a soft shadow upon. the scene, then swept along, leaving the dome of the sky brighter and serener than before, in all that golden blaze and violet tint which make the sun and the sky of the South brighter than those of other lands. , The picturesque landscapes, the poetic clime of Italy itself can boast of no spot more lovely than this) the sunny land of Louisiana, with its beautiful TiE BELLE OF BAIOU tUIE. II groves and gardens, its glades and lawns, embow. ered in the rich forest, and enameled with the profuse flowers and flowering shrubs of tropical regions. There the orange, the fig the pomegran: ate, with many a luscious fruit besides, pour forth in almost perpetual succession their exuberant stores overhead; roses anitjassamine embalm the air about you; the earth on which you tread is thickly carpets. ed with violets; and moss walls of verduring beauty often intervene to hide some noble habitation or diversify the charming grounds that embellish its approaGh. - s In a mansion of this sort, stately, somewhat anti- quated in its elegance, but set forth with all of those necessaries of good taste, as well as profuse comfora which mark the seat of the wealthy planters of this fertile region, dwelt on his fine ancestral domain Col. Eenhry tHuntington, a gentleman, hiappy, as well in his great estate as in the wife who shared it with him, herself a child of the South, and full of all that goodness, gaiety and graces which are natural to the creole women. Placed by their opulence in easy coInand of whatever enjoyment life can havefat home, they had by travel compared them with those to be found abroad; they had tasted the delights of the main European countries, the wonders of the Orient, but only to return with a fon ness to their home on the Bayou as fairer and m re delightful than all else they had seen. From ihisquest of something better they sat down in alll that calm of page: 12-13[View Page 12-13] 12 SILVER LAKE; OR, enjoyment which Southern life so much affords to the people bred in its amiable ways. It has been truly said, however, that the cup of earthly happiness is never full to the brim; that there is always in the human heart a void, a crav- ing for something it has not. Such had been the case with Colonel and Mrs. Huntington. Their union-happy in everything else-- had not been blessed with offspring, so that they had centered their affections in a lovely little girl of their adop- tion, who was now just twelve years of age, as sweet and as delicately fair, as the tenderest young flower and, of course, watched over, sheltered and tended only the more fondly for being so frag- 1 ile. The very beauty of the child was such as alarms while it endears. Her exquisite little figure / was too slight, her complexion too pearly, her sunny hair too soft, the violet beam of her sweet eyes was too languid. She was full of glee, of life, of spirit, of grace; her glad and loving nature beamed from her face in continual smiles, from her - limbs in perpetual sports; and none of these but kept instinctively the limits of the gentle and be- coming ways when she was wild with frolic. But even, in her playfulness there was something that touched you as too sensitive to be safe, too fine to i O be strong, to flowery like to last, too lovely an appa- rition not to have been sent to vanish early. With fawn-like fleetness Clara skipped across the magnolia lawn, through the garden gate, along the ( THE BELLE OF BAtOU UIE. 13 flower-bound walks, culling the sweet May-pinks violets, cape-jassamine and amaranthe, tastefully arranging them into nosegays, or entwining the choicest buds into her gamma's dark brown hair amongst which, here and there, slight streak of gray was now beginning to be saen,; then, patting delightedly her loving cheek, bounded away, with Minta, her maid, to where old BIy, the gardener, was trimming the shrubbery, and lappily humming with tremulous voice, a corn song. . As they thus passed down the walk by the gard- ener, Clara started as if frightened, and Minta, at the same moment, throwing up her hands, ex- claimed, "Oh, missus! missus! I id you see dat death-bird flutter out ob dat bush whar Uncle liy is trimming? A bad sign dat, missus;" and Minta almost trembled while she spoke. "Oh, nonsense, Minta," was th Answer; "what do you mean, and what do you call death-bird?" "Well, you see, missy, dat whip-poor will is sure sign o' death 'bout here," said the little negress, as she arched her brows, and put on a very knowing look. "Uncle lIy," said Clara, calling ratherloudly, "what do you think Minta says?-that a poor little innocent bird is the messenger of death on :our happy place." " Why, you imp ob de debbil, you piece ob dark meat you, what does you mean by scaring your page: 14-15[View Page 14-15] " SILVER LAKE; OR, young missy dis way, and tell'n her such fool tales, kase you knows it is'nt so," said old Hy. "Yes, you knows, Uncle [y," rejoined Mints, ,"mighty well de night when-mammY Tenor died dis whip-poor-will come and sot hisself in de treetop ober de cabin, and dar he stay de blessed night, and nary time did mammy Tenor git well, she did'nt. Dat's kase she die in less an no time." "Dat's so," asserted liy. But you need'nt be scaring missy, no ways, if dat is de darkey sign ob deff. But neber mind, we'll see sos'ting is gwine to happen, sure," continued Hy, looking very much concerned' "Well," said Clara, "I would not give a tig for your signs and wonders, for they all fail in dry weather--so says papa." And so saying, with a merry laugh, she started on down the walk to where a favorite rose bush stood hanging with full blown blossoms, of the brightest tint and rosiest perfume. It was the maid of Orleans. From this she called to Hy to cut one, with a very long stem, to press for her Herbarium. ty came hobbling to the bush--for that sable ancientlimped slightly. Cutting the rose of Clara's own selection, he placed it carefully in the flower basket, which Minta stood holding, while Clara filled fronl the bondal with fresh heart's-ease, ver- bena and forget-me-nots, so fragrant and fresh. "Well, missy," said Hy, looking somewhat sor- TIE TH BELLE 'OF BAYOU LUS 1. rowful, ' dat whip-poor-will, I can't git it off ob dis bussum; it haunts me de blessed time." "Oh, never mind, Uncle y;T I will ask papa to look through his wardrobe, perhaps he-may have a cast-off coat or pair of pants to give you, And do not think any more of the innocent bird." "I'll thank you mightily, missy," answered he, "kase dar is gwine to be preachin down at de quar- ter Sunday, and dis ole darkey wants to look gen- teel." This he said with an air irresistibly conscious of his own-figure, and the finery to come. Hy gath- ered up his implements and took his way, toward his cabin, while the children returned to the house, for night had approached. Just as Clara set her foot upon the first stone step of the gallery the bell rang for tea; so she passed into the spacious hall, untied her hat, hung it upon the rack, and then hurried into the supper room, where she found her parents already seated and waiting for her. She at once joined them at the sumptuous board, set with many a dainty suited to the meal, which is, according to Southern custom, the most delicate of their three repsts, and, along with tea, coffee, and many sorts of bread the 9icest, consists largely of delicious tropical fruits, freshand preserved, served on plate, or crystal, or rich old porcelain. As Clara took the napkin from her ring, and placed it with considerable precision before her, she raised her plate, and, in the act, a quick little cry of page: 16-17[View Page 16-17] 16 SILVER LAKE;' OR, surprise and joy, a glad "ah, ha!" escaped her.. For lo! something lay disclosed, at the sight of which her eyes, dancing with joy, were turned upon" her father; and she burst out, "I knew my dear papa did this; - know he put this under my plate; now didn't you, sir?-honor bright?" Saying which she held up a neatly enveloped letter, of which she eagerly broke the seal, talking all the time as fast as her little tongue could articulate, and not stopping a moment for a reply from father or mother, but occasionally reading a word aloud, as she glanced through the sheet to gather its con- tents. These hastily seized, she said gaily to her mamma, ,:' They will both be here to-morrow. Their father has returned, and the arrangements are all made about the school, so there will be no more fun for us children. It will all be just as I expected. Well, I must make the best of a bad bar- gain, and learn to endure what I can not cure. Is not that one of your philosophic lessons, sir?" "Well, daughter," interrupted her papa, we should like to know from whom comes this little billet-doux that gives you joy and regrets in the same breath?" "Why, sure enough," said the little girl, smiling, "I did forget that." But on again she rattled as fast as possible, not noticing whether any one could understand what it was all about; for she had grown : quite excited, was quite carried away, as her father presently observed to her, patting her on the shoul- THE BELLE OF BATOU LUIB. 17' der, while she sat beside him in her accustomed seat at the table. Just here an accident intervened to recall her to herself; for as Mers. Huntington placed upon Phil's salver a cup of tea which she had poured out for Clara, that sable young servitor, sympathetically upset by his young lady's state of excitement, found means to convey no small part of the fragrant in- fusion, not to Miss Clara's hand, but to her blue chamberry dress, which affecting event for a mo- ment took fast hold of the little maiden's attention, and for an equal period stopped the swift going of her tongue. "Now, my dear," said her mamma, in her usual gentle manner, "you have not yet told us froj whom your letter is. I have been patiently waiting to know," continued she, casting a smiling look toward her husband. "Well, well, it is too droll, mamma, that I have talked all this time, and yet you have not found that out; though I told you that' their father had returned, and that all was arranged about the school. Now, is it not too funny, papa," said the little one, looking very cunningly a her father, and smiling. Why, yes, daughter, it does seem a little amus- ing; but I suspeet mamma only wants to teaseher pet a little. Don't you, dear?" asked he, looking quizzically at his wife. page: 18-19[View Page 18-19] 18 SILVER LAKE; OR, f "It is quite possible," replied the mother, gravely. In such a flow ran on, gaily and lovingly, their talk at the table. For repasts are, in the South, thought to be flavorless if they are not seasoned with kindly and even merry discourse. Good humor, a spirit of enjoyment, a desire to please, preside; what are called " eating cares," from their having no appetite, are banished; the harmless jest, the friendly laugh go round; long faces, long graces, long speeches, there are none; "praise-God-bare- bones" style of either piety or provender is little to their mind; and as the saint should shine out at fasts, not feasts, these folks make it a matter of con- science to eat and drink like mere sinners; for it is only the godliest sort that can afford to starve, and be starched and sorrowful. No man who enjoys himself in this world, or lets others do it, should expect anything but misery in the next. The cheertul supper done, the family adjourned to their usual evening resort, the well supplied library; the journey whither, across the broad hall, was be- guiled by a game of romps, between Clara and her father. But suddenly, when seated there, Clara bethought her of her promise to the old gardener. It she now revealed to her parents, as she sat between them, each holding a journal of the day. In a moment, at sight of something that would gratify the child, all else was dropped. They left the library, and made their way to Mrs. H.'s bedroom, in a corner of THE BELLE OP BAYOU LUIE. 19 which stood a great armoire, the receptacle of her liege lord's wardrobe, present or past, obsolete or still in use. From its abundant, stores they pro- ceeded, with many a laugh, to cull whatever pre- vious inspections of the same sort had spared, and very soon therefrom was selected a suit of broad- cloth, very fine in its day of fashion, and still conscious f not a rent nor lost button, but as good as when fi st the tailor passed over it his heavy goose of iron, to give his last finishing touch to the garment. "Thank you, papa," said the pleased little girl; "these will make the old man feel as proud when he gets them on as any young beau of Bond street." "He is a faithful servant, daughter," replied her father. "I would rather he would have them than wear them myself." Clara flew to the bell, gave it a quick pull, and in the next moment Phil appeared in his usual attire of a long white apron, smooth as glass, pinned to the shoulders, and tied back with a wide tape; his hair combed out of every kink. As he presented himself, he made a very low bow to his master. "Phil," said Clara, " tell EHy to come to the hall door, I have a present for him from papa." "Yes, marm," said Phil as he turned and left the room. But Phil had, at a glance, seen and compre- hended; and, as he-- turned, the whole excess of his prodigious under-lip dropped and bung upon his chin. Through all his jet lock, Phil became livid with page: 20-21[View Page 20-21] 20 SILVER LAKE; OR, jealousy, yellow with envy, red with rage, blue with disappointment. Not swifter do such changes of hue transfigure the chameleon's back than the visage of the negro. Had he, in his exit, but met Biy, there's no telling of what further colors he would in his fury have turned. OHAPTER IL. CONVERSATION Oy PHL AND MNTA. Fortunately, however, for one or the other, it was not BIy whom he encountered; it was the gentle Minta, who just then chanced to be passing pitcher in hand dike Rebecca of old) to draw water at the well. It was for her young mistress' .bed-room. lNow, we know not. how far Phil perceived the scriptural sim- ilitude of Rebecca and Minta, but we do affirm that he well knew the latter's tenderness of soul, and that he at once proceeded, as they passed on to- gether to the cabins, to pour his sorrows and his wrath into her sympathetic bosom. "Gal," said {Phil, "dat ole darkey don't d'zerve dem nice klose, kase he is ole as de hills, and done a'ready bin twice married. What de debbil make sich ole chaps as him want to look so shiny for? And, Minta, did'nt I see that ole darkey steal one ob missus' fat turkeys, and cVpp his head off ob him THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 21 quicker dan wink? I did dat, kase I eat a piece ob his bussum myself; I did dat, gal." "Hushr Phil, dat aint no stealin' to take from missus; kase mammy Tenor always say dat when you- take missus eggs and -chickens, dat aint no tieving, kase egg, chicken an' nigger does all belong to missus, and missus don't. belong to herself, she, belong to massa, and massa belong to she. So dey all belongs to one anudder, backwards an' forwards, and up and down. Massa can't steal he own wife, he wife can't steal he own chickens; chickens can't steal nigger, nigger can't steal heself, nor chicken, needer; kase dey all belong to one anudder. Don, you see, Iyy could'nt steal missus' ole gobbler. Dats folosofy." Thus confuted, Phil had no refuge but in a fresh fit of indignation. "Keep your clatter, gal/' cried he. "If dat's de way you lossofises, I don't want no more ob it. You's tryin' to copy de white folks wid highflutin lossofy. Well, I'se gwine to tell Iy what missus say, if its gwine to kill me in de next breff." So saying,. he started in pursuit of Hy, deter- mined to obey his young mistress' command. And off started Hy, at the word, with his face darkly radiant with delight. He hobbled no longer; he hopped not, but almost, leaped; he fairly skipped away, and was gone, swift aas the wind -that is, when it has fallen lame-before Minta could find time to giggle, or the astonished Phil "to gape. page: 22-23[View Page 22-23] 22 SILVER LAKE; OR) These acts of emotion did not fall, however, pres, ently to ensue; and were attended, on her part, with a prodigious disclosure of ivory; on his, with at enormous display of the gullet. Then cameof course, from the wide passage of his distended jaws a far-resounding peal'of that boundless merriment which is the negro's, and which that "inextinguish. able laughter of the gods," told of by Homer, may alone have equaled, can not have exceeded, as an expression of happiness, triumphant and complete. For if joy is to be measured by its type, hilarity, Ouffy is, of all mortals, the most enviable, as he is the gamesomest and lightest-hearted. After Phil had duly regaled himself with such an explosion of gaiety, and had enough recovered breath to speak: "Run, gal!" cried he, "or de fun will all be ober' before we's dar. Did you eber see any race-nag shoot along like dat crippled Uncle Hy when he hear he wus to hab a present? Ya! ya! ya!" Forward they hurried, accordingly; but reached the hall door only to hear Hy's speech of thanks. That oratorical effort, as far as it has been pre- served,kran thus: "Tankee missus You's a born lady, ebory inch of you; dat you is, for true! You and massa are good to all your people, and little missy is coming along, jus like you, in all de quality ways, of making dar servants honor dem and love dem; kase dey is gentlefolks, and it runs in dar blood to be kind to de humble. You's none of dem half strainers, dat is, partly genteel and partly on- '"E BLELLE OF-BAYOU iUI E. 23 genteel. You's de sure-enough ole Virginny 'stoc. racy, de true Washington grit dat nebber has any shams in 'em, any make-bhelieve." i ,Here' -I[y stopyped, like a discreet orator, wha, in older days, knew when to cease; and, ceasing, he -? rlma'de, with. three low obeisances, his exit, like ame 8wtell trained actor, whose part has been spoken oat. Kind nods and smiles gave the poor old fellow a gracious dismissal. He withdrew, of course, enor. mously exultant at his luck, and so lifted up at the favor he enjoyed, and the figure hT conceived him. self to have just cut, that he woulJl, as soon as out of white folks' sight, have fallen to gamboling and capering, save that not age or lameness, but a p-o- digious sense of new added dignity rostlained him Under such a mixture of emotions, an almost irre- pressible desire to kick up his heels, and a tickling still stronger of gratified self-eonceit, which told him to be decorous and solemn, aly withdrew. Obeying either of these contrary impulses, accord. ing to some law of the legs, when he stepped from his 9ound one, it felt as if, in spite of himself; he would break- into a jig; when he strode from his halting linib, he seemed to himself no longer a monkey just about to fall into a frolic, but a very great and grave man. His gait, therefore, was somewhat eompornd, and rather wavering. Moving off in this manner, he was presently aware, as he reached the door, of the group of two page: 24-25[View Page 24-25] 24 SILVER LAKE; ,)R, that awaited him there, witnesses of his glory. Them he at once accosted as follows: "Golly, Phil! when you an' dat gal dar, liinta, sees ole Hy wid deee on, won't you git out ob de way, like de flock ob goslings when de big old mus- tang comes along, rairing and pitching down de road thro' the midst ob dem? You sees dese, does you, you young imps ob darkness? You hear what massa and missus say to dis ole servant, when dey gib him all dese "' Then, turning to where Minta stood, in the dark, invisible but for the broad gleam of her white teeth, and inaudible but for the chuckle that she was smothering, at some risk of its choking her, he said, patronizingly (for new-made greatness loves to play the patron): "'I say, gall you dat looks like crow was your farder, an' de ink-jug your mudder, come fort out ob de darkness; for he aint brack enongh to hide you. Mind what dis ole nigger tell you. I speck ef you'll be smart, and not shuffle about all de time, a playing and a giggling, missus will gib you someting, too, before de year is out - dat is, in case you's. to live dat long. Far, arter all, may be dat whip-poor-will bin sent by de debbil to fetch you down dar to wait on his wife an' family. I tink you'd suit 'em mighty well." c"You's so wise, I know, Uncle iy, dat 'taint no use," replied the nymph; "and I speak in all natur, dern bird hab come arter you'self; kase what he want wid young fool like me? If de good Lord is a gwine to take me in my innocence, the need'nt be * vO-1} rEE bELLE OF A YOU LMUI.. 25 In a hurry, kase Pse a gwine to be innocenter and innocenter all de time." Then, with such a toss of the head as conveyed a complete sense of security, she added: "An' as to what you say about missus' gibbin' me tings, aint she gib ;me sp many a'ready dat my chist down in de cabin am done full to, de brim, long ago." "He full, for true, an' got in him, ebbIer so long ago, more'n he kin hole," cried Phil, ever a witness at need for his partner in many a prank, tricfk or fib. Here it chanced to be neither; though to be sure, it would have been all the same to the fidellty of Phil had Minta had only imaginary dresses, in an ,ideal chest, down at. a cabin that was a non-existence.. She, however, thus confirmed, resumed: her pitcherr with something of the pictqresque air of Laban's daughter at the well; for she sat it on her head, and removing her hands, carried: it poised there, after the manner of the maidens of the East, by certain Undulations of the neck, the figure and the limbs, that keep it balanced, and are fllr of a pastoral and primitive grace, such as, even in the negro race, vanishes not entirely, but preserves a certain beauty of motion in the young female. With such a gait, then, and a touch (though in travesty) of that air of dominion which nearly all women know how to, assume when a little scornful, Minta cut short the conversation by ascending the hall steps to go back to her unfinished duties in the chamber oftier young. mistress. page: 26-27[View Page 26-27] 26 \ SIL VER LAKE E OR; Her she came upon as she entered; for Clara, when her parents retired, had advanced to the door and listened, much amused at the conversation of the servants. Had shy6 not -known and trusted them, as sure to say nothing but what was divert- ing, she'would have scorned to listen unseen, and would have fled at the first word of anything that was wrong, surreptitious for her to hear; for Clara had been bred in -all the Southern sentiment of delicate rectitude, which heightens mere honesty into honor, and adds to the ordinary rules of life and morals the finer sense of the nicely fit, the becoming--the statutes of that unwritten code which only a true gentry knows, and which, indeed, poetry alone has sketched in brief: Beyond the fixed and settled rules Of Vice and Virtue in the schools; Beyond the letter of the Law, That keeps the knaves and fools in awe, The better sort should place before them. A grace, a manner, a decorum: Something that gives their acts a light, Makes them not only good, but bright, And sits them in that open fame Which witty malice dares not blame. THE 1BUE OR BAOU M-IE. 2 CHA?TE III. - APPY SONG OF THE FIELD HANDS. Speedily dismissing :Mint. Clara ,passed to her parents' chamber: to give ;nd tae:the tender -kiss and blessing of the :night. -Tht -done, ,she pm-O ceedeed to her own room, ;xghanedL her attire of the. day for light-sleepig clats,9; ma de fr gra t with rose-leaves and ElaJynder.^,,d-rew back into a broad band of ribbon the golden. shower of .her tresses, and, sinking. on haer kn ees tt. :th, bedside in all her girlish loveliness, with foPded .h,:ar ds ^and up' raised eyes, whispered ,her innolent and .loving prayer for parents, friends, the ^ervats and all that should be dear to her yo;g,; ad ,aff ectio nate hart;, thence to herpillqo*, wh ere s. leep ,and dre ams as sweet and pure as' herself soon ,viited her. An4d thus she lay upon her. Nite tpo cih!le ,a pearl n sits shell, until mornng the bright and balnry Aurora of the South came, not reeping up the- cold, sky, but swift and glowing, 6a1 radiant and o orous, to awaken her .witih a thousand ,glad vgoies Iof Irds and gay sounds of the .,hous4hpolda nd^ plntation to busy and joyous life -once Qore. .Alwostas lyely s, the coarol of the birs ..thesellvye rqavte hesQong of the-field hands es they: w, ntr :foth :tt eir istera[ sorts- of labor: some ,to feed, .oters, tplowotc. . and a few to: prepare for,.their. hwf'bads, t$b repast of the morning. As 'wehave said they,; sngA; , p-t t of them to. themselves, in. low wioes , where they page: 28-29[View Page 28-29] 28 fsrVi3it LACE; Olt, were going singly; others in a chorus, where they went in a troop; the latter often in stentorian tones that made the distant woods resound. These negro sbhgs ar& much more easily described than reduced to note, for it must be confessed that they are suffi- ciently unrnelodious, monotonous as they constantly are. The music is generally of the simplest charac- ter, and consists usually of a very humble series of not very harmonious notes, that run through a short strain, and, after repeating it two or three times, with a little variation, end in a still simpler refrain, the last thundered but with a particularly triumph- ant burst. This is their manner when the song is one in which all can take part, because all know the words; but they have others of a more minstrel-like character, in which the artiste-in-chief pours out the performance unassisted, either because he is reciting a composition unknown to the rest, or because he is improvising. This many of them do with perfect readiness. Nor, indeed, can this be a matter of wonder, or fit to be regarded as a poetic miracle, when you come to know that there is nothing like rhyme, quite as little reason, and very uncertain prosody in these extemporizations. They often contain hardly an attempt at anything like mean- ing, and amounts to nothing but a plentiful reitera- tion of a few noisy words. Sometimes they relate, in very lean narrative, facts the most trivial; some- times they celebrate some adventure- the least haz- ardous, the least singular, or even the most flatly THE BELLE ;OF B]AYOU LUIE. 29 foolish that can be imagined,; yet, for, all that, most delightful to the uproarious negro who, as the bard, intones forth the absurdity, shouts :with joy, and presently joins with redoubled fury of his powerful throat in the often recurring chorus, which, perhaps, properly enough, and quite according to the neces- sary rules of such an artofppetry, take good care, as it is the most important part of the verse, to be just as much the foolishest. Their whole idea of music is barbarous enough, wherever it is really their own; for if you hear what: was common enough forty years since in the, Atlantic States, a genuine negro song, you hear that which can hardly be called by any force of courtesy music, you, only perceive that i i s, you can not fancy why, meant for it. It sounds like little else, than an echo to at their rude instrument of music, te tom-tom.; foi the banjo is not native tp Africa, but a negro copy of the white man's guitar or fiddle. In like manner those rattling bones, which make such: a clattering part of the orchestra of our so-called Ethiopian troupes, are borrowed from the Spanish or Italian castanet. The negro, in short, is ,only musical by dint of his power of imitation; a po;wer whicoh he possesses like the ape, aid in a not much ecigher degree. Ast of his music,' so of his danoe. if is a parody of the white man's in his gayest movpIenie ts Their jigs, their hops, and other extravaganzas, are nothing but monkey imitations ofl the European "strathpeys jigs, hornpipes a andreels,' which erst, page: 30-31[View Page 30-31] 3S STLVER LAKE Ot, in Tam O'Shanter's time, warlocks and witches danced in Kirk Alloway to the devil's bagpipe. Their native dances have nothing in common with these musical movements of the white man; they are not even gay, but almost as sad as they are uncouth, grotesque. In like manner the melodies that pass for negro minstrelsy are really nothing but versions and variations of the songs which, since their slavery among the Europeans began, they have heard among their masters; so that they are borrowed in the French and Spanish colonies from the familiar tunes of those nations, and come in our Southern States almost entirely from the Scotch music, which chiefly prevailed there until the opera and Italian trills were imported. With all this it must be admitted that Cuffee has what must be called a strong musical sensibility; melodious sounds evidently affect his nerves with a strange delight, and even disorder. Like other races of tropical birth, he has much nervous sensitiveness, much impressibility; he possesses, too, ai ear that measures musical time with much exactness. His voice, o, is fhll, clear, and of prodigious volume; but it is totally. deficient, not only in a delicate flexibility, but in everything of expressiveness, the sympathetic tones that give the whole power of thrilling and of deeply moving. In a word, he is as different and as inferior to the white man in those very things in which he is supposed to have a faculty as he is in every thing else; for, really,. it is THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 31 in him nothing bat his imitatiyeness. He. can catch something of the white man's arts, the white man's ideas; he apes his religion, and, in -certain particulars, his morals. At times one ,sees amopg them an individual who, by the force of imitation and the habit produced by compulNion, has become positively industrious; but take him away from the white man, leave him to himself, and he will relapse into as mere a negro as ever. Not more surely will a learned pig forget the alphabet when he returns to his proper life of the sty, nor the dog that has been taught to dance or to preach resume his ignorance when you shall have restored him to the pack. But to return. We have said that many voices and sounds of the returning day woke up around Clara. Not so easily, however, did her bright young eyes unclose, that might, if they had chosen, have eclipsed. the dawn, But the young lady was in no haste so to put Aurora out of countenance'; -and, purely to oblige that goddess, slept on. But, by and by, in at her door and across the gleam of sun- light within her room, stole, like sqme messenger returning from the night, the dusky form of Minta, who, softly touching the little hard that lay exposed, white as the coverlet upon which it lay, voke her up with a sort of whispered oryo "7'Breakfast is ready, Miss Clara, and your mamma has sent me to call you, and tell you that she is. waiting in the library to give you her morning kiss." "Ah, Minti," was the answer, as if from some page: 32-33[View Page 32-33] 32 SILVER LAKE; OR, half conscious dream of delight and indolence, 'telf mamma to let me sleep just three minutes more. She has no idea what a beautiful nap I am taking." Herewith the pretty sleeper, or waker, as you will, with a single glance, mixed of cunning and laziness, drew the sheet to her chin, or rather over her face, and rolling her pretty limbs into some new position of rest, seemed to prepare for a -fresh plunge back again into the land of nod, or, if you like it better, a return to the delightful hospitalities of that most charming of all mansions, the castle of indolence. Minta, therefore, retreated; for in her negro bosom there beat all the tenderest sympathies with the joys of slumber, beside which she knew too well and liked too well the fond indulgence that watched over all MiBs Clara's wishes or fancies. She report- ed, therefore, to her commander-in-chief, who seem- ing to assent, she placed herself to watch the face of the clock, of which the hands were approaching the hour of breakfast, and it was not long before a tap of her mistress' bell in the breakfast-room called her thither to attendance. The Col. and Mrs. Huntington were seated at table, and expecting their gay little girl to join them. She was, how- ever, still sleeping; nor was it until Minta went with a fresh summons that she could be roused. At the new call, Olara turned quickly, as though she were startled from a dream, and cried, "Oh, Minta t have I slept too long, and kept papa and mammai waiting ford me?" T TH BEfiE OF BAYTOU LUIE. 3$ Yes, miss," said the negress ;"please hurry, and you will soon be ready." : Hurry, hurry went Clara's nimble hands accord- ingly but "The most haste the least speed," she said, was an old adage, and yet a very true one." In the next moment the breakfasthell rang, and Minta was just brushing the last golden curl, and slowly drawing her finger. from its graceful waves, wVhen Clara, looking into the mirror, said, with much satisfaction, "Now, I am ready ;" and away she went, skipping through the long, smooth hall,. whose well waxed floor told with what system and, order Mrs. Huntington presided over her elegant. and finely-finished mansion, and with what care had her richly-wrought, rosewood always been cleaned;; not a finger-print was seen upon its smooth surface; and every-knife and spoon upon .her table. was as fresh as though it was just from its polished case or the cutler. As Clara entered the breakfast-room, Ehe looked with admiring gaze at her beloved parent, who pre- sided at the head of the. table, and then drew nBar and imprinted a kiss upon her broad forehead. Neither alluded to her over-sleeping herself; 'but her papa said, in his bland and coaxing marner, "Now, daughter, do you knov:what a wise philoso- her has said aboit early rising?" "What was it papa?". said Clara, looking at her mamma as if puzzled. "Early to bed, early to rise, Makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise." page: 34-35[View Page 34-35] 34 SILVER LAKE; OR, ' Oh, papa! he said man; he did not mean us little girls, did he? 1 do not think he did, for sleep is so pleasant to a little tired girl of my size," continued Clara, looking at her father and laughing. These words were intended to benefit all man- kind," said hex father, Emiling pleasantly. ' Oh, well, I suppose, papa, I must give it up, as the sayings of the wise can not be disputed, although' very hard to always conform to." -CHAPTER IV. COL. HUNTINGTON'S MORNING RIDE. ^ The family soon got through with breakfast, and the Colonel called up a servant to get Moro, his fine iron-grey horse, and fasten him to the rack, as he wished to go down the lake for a morning's ride. In a few moments Moro stood saddled at -the rack, and the Colonel stood with one foot in the stirrup, and, looking back, kissed his ungloved hand to Mrs. Huntington and Clara, as they stood upon the high-pillard piazza, waving their hands, while he mounted his gay charger, and rode briskly away, Phil following him to open the lawn gate and let his master through. That done, shutting the gate, he turned around slowly to go to the house, when he saw Marsha pass from the kitchen and go toward THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 35 the garden, where ty, her husband, was at work. Him she called. Then suddenly turning her course toward the poultry yard, where the fowls stood as thick as bees, and as fat as feed could make them, she looked around with deathful glances, and in the next breath said:: "You need'nt stand dar gob- bling so smart, kase I'll have you neck off fore you know it." The words were addressed to a fine, fat turkey, who was strutting about in all of his pom- posity. "It's high time you wus in de bright tin kitchen, whar I'll make you as brown as a berry; but Hy must come an' take dat head off ob you, kase I'se not gwine to do dat." Away went Marsha, with her high plaid turban spread to its broadest dimensions; and, closing the gate after her, started after Hy, that he might slay the fine twenty pounder, for she was too chicken- hearted to kill a turkey; and she was in haste, ,kase it was now time he was on gitten roasted, for missus was gwine to hab company." "Well, Marsha, if dat ar de case, I'm gwine foth. with; kase 'twill take him till tree o'clock good to cook, kase I know someting 'bout dese animules, how long it takes 'em to roast." So said old Hy, as he dropped his hoe and looked up at the sun through his fingers. "Yes, sirree! I knows someting 'bout cooking turkies, I do dat." "I should think you did," said Phil, who emerged just then from behind the large trunk of a china tree, which stood near the gate, where he had con- page: 36-37[View Page 36-37] 86 SILVER LAKE; OR, cealed himself, as he thought, to watch Marsha, for he supposed they were about slaying another turkey to feast the darkies with, as he had said they did on Christmas last. "What you git 'hind dat tree for, nigger? I 'spose you'se watchin' Marsha an' me. And what you mean by your sinuations, when you say you tink I did know how to cook turkey? Dis aint de fust time you speak dat to me. Now, Phil, I want a splanation on dis matter, an' now's de time to hab it; and now, my young cuff, you'se jis got to tell. what you mean, here, fore me and Marsha, kase I'se not gwine to hab you speakin' up to me all de time, in any 'company, widout knowin' what it's fur. Now, out wid it!" said Hy, as he forgot all about the terrible turkey slaughter, and advanced toward Phil, and was ready to seize his collar. The movement frightened Phil a little, for he was a cowardly chap. He began to stammer. "All I know 'bout you is dis, Uncle Hy: dat you kill one ob missus' fine turkies last Christmas, and one night you make a big frolic out'en it; and I'se gwine to tell on you fore long." , You imp ob darkness,/ said Hy, as he drew back and gave Phil a tremendous blow upon the right temple, perfectly sprawling him. "Now, take dat," he said, 'an' if I eber hears any more out ob you, I'll clean you clear out, you sassy snipe," con- tinning to pound him, while the blood streamed from his nose. THE 1ELLB OF BAYOU LUIE. 87 "Stop! stop! Hy; I did'nt go arter you to kill Phil; I axed you to kill missus' turkey fur dinner. Curb down dat ugly temper ob you'rn, an' let dat scape-goat go, kase you make notin out ob him. He jis mad kase you'e got dat nice suit close marsa's dun gib you tudder night. Now, come long, Hy; an' if you'se so siferous arter human blood, take it outob dat fat old gobbler dar. Dat's him standing yonder," said Marsha in some excite- mnent, pointing towards a large turkey that was strutting around with much self-importance. "Run arter him, Phil, dat's a good boy; hope Aunt Marsha long wid her dinner." She spoke as Phil began to recover from the severe blow Hy had given him and Phil obediently tried to head the turkey as he passed by him. The little catiff felt a little stubborn toward -y, and moved abound very slowly. The old man began to feel sorry that he had got in such a passion with the boy. Phil, who had by this time caught the turkey, and was holding him by the wings, brought him to Marsha, who said: Never mind, Phil, I'll gib you some ob dis bird when he is cooked. I'1 gib you de heart, far dat's de part to try you fortune wid. If you can swallow him whole, and kiss de fust purty gal you meet, dat iside one you'se gwine to marry." Her words of the promised morsel and sweetheart seemed to reach at once to Phil's heart. A grin, of such a breadth as only a negro's mouth can contain, page: 38-39[View Page 38-39] SILVER LAKE; OR, spread its dusky glewm upon his countenance; and Marsha knew by that sign of grace that the feud between Phil and her husband was at an end. "e well, Aunt Marsha, I'se gwine to hold you to dat; an' I want you to speak a good word to Minta for me, in de bargain." Marsha, with a wink and a nod, though that was not Venus nor this Jove-like, ratified the request; and, taking up her turkey, went on her way back to her own domain to pick it, while liy withdrew to the garden. CHAPTER V. THE FISH INO EXOURSION. The expected visitors had arrived: Sadie Hol- stein, Maggie Keiper, Estelle and Dulzeeka Jus anl George Keiper. They met at the Colonel's to join in a fishing exursion across the Bayou llie, as they were aware that one of the party would soon leave his Silver Lake home, the place of all others dearest to his young heart. Dulzeeka Jus had been reared at home, one mile farther down the lake, in an humble cottage of su- burnt briqk; its structure Spanish, with an appear- ance veiy romantic and strikingly picturesque, perfectly enshrouded by creeping vines and clinging moss, which form around such dilapidated dwell -moss) W THE BELLE Of BAYOU LUlE. 89 ings in this climate, where the trees, too, are hung with long, wavy festoons of moss of different species, gracefully swinging from side topside when fanned by the gentle breezes which pass over this land from the Gulf of Mexico. His parents were of Spanish and French extrac- tion, and had for many long years lived at this home upon Silver Lake,^ and knew but little of a fashionable life or world. , The party stood anxio-usly, awaiting the arrival of the Colonel from his morning's ride. At last they beheld him briskly riding up: on his noble horse, from which he soon dismounted,.and advanced-to meet Maggie Keiper, who was a great favorite -with him. "How glad I am to see you out to-day, Maggie, I hope you will enjoy the trip- we hae in contempla- tion." Saying this, he- took -her- by the hand and shook it heartily. "Thank you, Colonel," replied the timid girl,: in her gentle, winning manner, while the bright color mounted to her cheek, making her. -blue eyes sparkle with twice their natural lustre, as dqeper and deeper grew the tinge upon her face, which was soft and almost transparently fair.- :Ti'hat-day. was her fif- teenth birthday; and :she, most like the gentle morning, whose pure breath, went out to 'find its natural atmosphere among the buds and blossoms, whose rosy life was as fleeting as the tender bad she had placed in her hair. page: 40-41[View Page 40-41] 40 SILVER LAKEB; OR, "Aunt was almost afraid for me to come, Colonel,' she said; "I but leaining that you were to steer our bonny boat, she consented to let me join the party, knowing that all would be right with you for our helmsman. And now the gay party all started, chatting merrily as they followed closely after the Colonel. They soon reached the boat, and embarked. The boys gallantly handed the girls in, and the Colonel carefully seated them. The youths them- selves then got in, and last the oarsmen, except one,. who remained upon the shore to shove her off. As the boat moved he hastily jumped in, and soon the, party found themselves in the deep waters of the Luie, gliding smoothly along. Now, for the world, Colonel," said Sadie; "don't let the boat rock and turn us out, for my pretty coz will take a perfect conniption if we overset." "Never fear, young lady," replied Col. Hunting- ton, "I will promise you a safe passage and plenty of nice fish ;" and, as he spoke, on the boat went, skimming the surface of the calm lake. "But," said Sadie, -for my part, I think a good bathing in these nice clear waters would cure coz. Here she looked at Maggie, and smiled. "I thank you, Miss Sadie," replied Maggie, "I am not very fond of experimenting upon myself." "Now, Colonel, what do you think of it? Don't you think as I do? for I know you are a cold water man. THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 41 "Why, so I am, Sadie," said the Colonel; "I am a great advocate for cold water; but not for dipping, Maggie in the lake here amongst the fish and gars." At this the boys and girls raised a loud laugh. "Well," said Sadie, ' Wish you would rock the boat, and let us hear these girls scream. I thihk the echo would sound delightfully n the opposite shore." With thai she began to roik the boat, and to laugh and shriek so loudly that her voice could have been distinguished from the rest at a great distance. Hold on, Sadie! 'said the Colonel, (you will frighten this pet lamb, Maggie, here ;' for he had discovered that Maggie was growing nervous atu Sadie's fun. The one wa as frolicsome as the other was retiring and pensive. Sadie gave the boat one more good rocking., andn she did so, Maggie crouched closely by her brother George, who held her to his bosomi tightly,} and told her there was not the least danger,. ffir- that six such girls as coz could not turn that boat over. But Sadie laughed and tossed her heady, as much as to say that if Maggie were out of the boat she would show Master Keiper what she coult do. "Look, papa! what splendidfish are swimming around us. Can't we catch some of them " said iara. "We will try our luck, daughter, very soon now, as here is our fishing point. We will get out and fasten our boat at the mooring, thno walk upon the page: 42-43[View Page 42-43] 42 ' SILVER LAKE; Ol, green bank; and I know that you young folks can't help enjoying these grand shades, and the refresh- ing breezes that kiss your. youig brows." This he uttered, smiling, in a very complimentary manner, as he bowed gracefully, for he was a man the most courteous and polished. "Dulzeeka', said Sadie, "you pull the boat from the mooring, and let us have a sail on the lake when these timid people get out, will you?i "Tery well,' replied Dulzeeka; "I will give you a trial for an adventure." "iYe ," said George Keiper, 'rthink I see you now, coz, in the water, struggling for the shore, and Zeeka plunging in after you, pulling you: out by those long brown curls of yours:"Sadie screamed at the top of her voice with laughter, and the rest of the girls laughed heartily. "But I am in earnest," said she, as she turned toward Dulzeeka and smiled mis- chievously. "Will you row me?" ' 'Of course I will, Miss Sadie, with the greatest pleasure," replied Dulzeeka. "Well, enough said; we will be off immediately wont we?" she said, as the boat had now reached the fishing point, and the passengers all got out except Sadie and Dulzeeka; and in a few minutes the boat was out in deep water again, moving gracefully along upon the lake. The Colonel, George and the girls waved at the little barque as it moved on so prettily. But the next moment Sadie began to rock, and it \ T BELLE OF BAU LUIE. 43 careened from side to de de; lmiiost made to dip water; but still it would'.not ipset:;' and in nhe rocked in her fearless manner. .' The Colonel' said; looking at George, "I shoidl not be much sitrprised iif Mis's Sadie shoulid miet with an adventure, sure enough, as yiu prediaetd for her." * "Nor I," replied George, "'as coz i:s : wid when she gets out, I really do not- kno: what is to beeoNie of her." "She is very full of mischief and: fol', a very sprightly girl, and innocent withal. I love, for my part, to see mirth amongst young people," said the Colonel; in his good natured way. "But, really," said-Clara, looking anxiously fte the little boat, "I fear she will turn them oyer."' "I do not think there is any danger," said Estelle, "for Dulzeek is very Careful; and if he thought there was danger he would apprise her o it:." "Oh, look! just look! What does she mean? Oh, me! do call to Dulseeka some one," said'Maggie, in a very frightened tone. "Sadie, poorl silly girl, she will turn that boat over. 'Ohi, hatsharl I'do:? t know she will be drowned,' continued Maggie, wringing her. hands with fear :and excitement. "Be composed, Maggie," said the Colonhel, taking hold of her as she, stood trembling, while' :sh watched after the boat; and by this time George had run a short distance, and begtti hallooi16ing 't Datlzeeka to 'row: to 'shre.: page: 44-45[View Page 44-45] " SILVER IAKE; OR, Sadie by this time had become a little tired from her exertions in trying to upset Dulzeeka; but, find- ing she had failed, she consented to row to shore and go to fishing. He did so, and soon they had all got around the fishing point, and were laughing and chatting at a round rate. Well, coz, there is one thing about it, before we begin to fish you must not talk, as the fish will not bite if you make a noise," said Magge; as she fol- lowed after Sadie, and was still feeling a little ex- hausted from her fright, "Just listen to this sick child, Colonel," said Sadie, laughing loudly. "Who ever heard of such a thing as a fish knowing the sound of the human voice? That, surely, is an original idea with you, Miss Maggie Keiper. Oh I pet lamb Keiper! as the Colonel calls you." "Well, coz," replied Maggie, who felt a little ruffled at Sadie's boisterous way of speaking, yet knew too well that she did not mean to hurt her sensitive feelings, for Sadie's heart was as kind as a heart could be, full of generosity and sympathy, "I have always heard it said by persons who are skilled in fishing, that the stiller one keeps the more successful one is; so I give you this upon the asser- tion of others, not my own experience," she con- tinued "Well, dear," replied Sadie, laughing, "between you and me and the gate post (as old Hy says),4 believe it is humbug, like many other things in the (HX BTHE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 45 world. I suspect it is a perfect Yankee invention, don't you?" said she to Dulieeka, who stood laugh ing at the conversation of the two cousins.' "Perhaps so; but, at all events, we will try the argument soon, and see who will bear off the palm, Miss Maggie or Miss Sadie." So said Dulzeeka, smiling pleasantly. "I rather think," said the Colonel, laughingand joining in the conversation, "that our friend Maggie will have the best of the argument. And now the way to test and decide this is, to present a hand. Asonme boquet, out of Mrs. Huntington's flower gar- den, to the one who catches thefirst fish." ' Well, for the life of me," said Sadie, 1I know I can not keep still a moment, for I never did since I was born, except in my sleep." This drew another good laugh from all. The party gathered around the Colonel, and soon began to rest themselves, while the boys baited their hooks. George was attending Estelle and Clara, and Dulzeeka, Sadie, while the Colonel took sole charge of Maggie, taking precautions against damp, while she sat quiet, pensively watching her hook. Of a sudden a loud scream was heard from Sadie, who was crying, "Look! look i what a splendid fish I have caught i"' Dulzeeka flew to her side, and caught the swing- ing line, as the weight waved and' bent the bslnder pole to which' it was suspended.' This was the page: 46-47[View Page 46-47] ". SILVER XLAKE OR, first fish caught, and the giddy girl was almost wild with ecstacy as she beheld her fine silvery trout spread flouncing upon the green bank. She declared, in triumph, that that boqnet was hers. Soon another scream of congratulation was heard, for Clara had drawn out a fish still larger than Sadie's. In the next moment Estelle followed suit with a beautiful red sunfish, which made her black eyes glow with joy. Presently Maggie had a nibble, and the Colonel encouraging her to pull, out came a splendid white fish, its scales shining in the sun like a piece of chased silver work. "Look, girls," said the Colonel, Maggie has the beauty. I never saw so fine a fish from these waters. "c Oh, Colonel," said Sadie, it is no prettier than m wine ;" and she laughed innocently as she held her's up by the pronged stick which Dulzeeka had passed through his gills. All were seated again, and intently watching their lines. The boys bad. each drawn out several beautiful fish, but they were not so much excited as were the girls, for it was not so novel to them. Now 'they began to have bite after bite; and as fast as Dulzeeka gould take them off and bait Sadie's hook afresh did she draw out the beautiful fish, of all sizes, until she became so much interested that. she, for a great wonder, remained as quiet as any THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 47 of them; for she discovered, as Maggie had told her, that it was best to remain still, and not talk much. To do so was a struggle with her; but she accomplished it. They now sat quietly fishing for sometime, as they grew deeply interested. By and bythe sound of a bell was heard to echo across the waters. They recognized it as the plantation bel at the Coloneils, who now proposed that they should make ready to return, as he feared Mrs. Huntington would be wait- ing dinner-for them. So the boat was hauled to shore, the precious cargo embarked, and soon they were in sight of the mansion. In a few moments more the whole party stepped upon the bank, and thence across the green lawn they made their way to the house. CHAPTER VI. ROWNlINO A MAY QJEE;'-I. "Phil,' said Mrs. Huntington, 'tell Marsha they- have all come, and to send in dinner' Saying this she started through the hall to meet them upon the gallery; and encountering Maggie Arst, and observ- ing tihat she looked languid and- fatgued from the exertions of the morning, took her 'y the hand and said: page: 48-49[View Page 48-49] 48 SILVER LAIE ; OR, "Why, my dear, how feverish your hands feel. Are you wearied child?" Oh, somewhat, madame," replied Maggie, smil- ing sweetly through the unnatural glow on her cheek. "I feel as well as I usually do at this hour of the day." It was plain that she did not know it was a fever which was burning in her cheek, so accustomed was she to the daily return of this dis- eased glow, beneath which consumption was feeding on her young lifb. The girls passed on, with Clara and her mamma, to Clara's room, that they might adjust their hair and refresh themselves for dinner, all blithe and full of the gaiety of youth, which beamed upon every face. They then repaired to the parlor to to await the announcement of dinner. The bell now rang, and the happy group assembled in the dining room, where every arrangement had gone on like clock work. There, joyously chatting as they seated themselves, [they related to Mrs. H. their excursion, as the first course of gumbo passed around. Then followed the meats in systematic order, and the brown fat turkey which Marsha promised, done to perfection, and such as would suit the most epicurean appetite. Then came the pies, the luscious cake, jellies, creams and blanc- mange. These delicacies were, indeed, made more palatable by the smiles with which the Colonel and his aeeomplished lady presented them to their guests, until all had fared sumptuously. -i- gHE TIIR BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 49 "4 Maggie, that fair young sufferer, where was she? Lying between the windows in Clara'8 room, trying to compose her wearied limbs, while Minta stood by fanning her with a large palmetto leaf, which she ran to the Luie and cut for the purpose, / , Please don't rustle the leaves, Minta," said Maggie, "as the noise startles me from my posiQ tion, and my head throbs. I .must keep quiet for a short time." "But, missy Mag," said the negress, ( if you will only eat some of this dinner what Phil has done brought you, I know it will hope you." "Well, just let men taste that nice gumbo, Minta; I am very fond of it, and it agrees with me. But my head throbs unmercifully," said she, as she raised herself upon her; elbow and took two sips of the gumbo. "Please take it away, Minta; I thank you, I wish no morek'9 ' ; "Den, missy Mag, I will make you a nice beber, age of orange flower water. Maybe (dat will hope you, as it does missus sometimes." "Thank you kindly, Minta; I have nrelifor anything. Only give mb a glass of (ie water, please." I . Biy this time the family and guesEts 4ad left the dining-room and gone to the parlor; and Mrs. Hunt- ington came softly to Haggie's pouch, 4and finding her not sleeping, but looking quite sick, for the color had heightened upon her cheek: "Why, dear," she .said, "I fear you are really ill." page: 50-51[View Page 50-51] 50 SILVER LAKE; OR, te Oh, no, ma'am." said Maggie; "only a headache from the reflection of the sun upon the water. I will soon be better, I thank you. A little rest will relieve me. I am often--indeed, almost every? evening-feeling such paroxysms." And, as she spoke, a slight cough gave token of more than fever. , And do you have this cough, dear," asked Mrs. H., in a motherly tone, " all the time troubling you as now?" "Oh, yes, every afternoon; and it will not yield to Dr. Harper's treatment, though, strictly by his order, I take cough syrups, all to no avail. I can not tell why; I am, indeed, a true sufferer. But to see one so young complaining, and all the while having a fresh, blooming cheek, seems queer. I I think that in future I will cease to complain, and be more as one of my age should always be, joyous, and my life genial and sunny, like my cousin Sadie's, who is always laughing, and never sad." cTrue, my dear; but one can not control such despondencies that accompany visits of ill health." Just at this moment a gentle tap was heard at Clara's door, and; Mrs. Huntifigton arose to give admittance. It was the Colonel, who had left the children to see if Maggie was sufficiently rested to jointhem in the garden, where they had assembled to cull choice and rare flowers, in order to weave Miss Sadie's promised boquet. She had caught the , THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. s] first fish, the reader will remember arnd now she seemed to have fallen, heir" to'the bdquet. "Why, Maggie, this will never do-; the boys agd girls- are as busy as bees gathering 'flowers for Sadie's. boquet, and; they are going to Crown a May queen, and you, our pet lamb, are lying here yet; and not enjoying their festinvities.- Tut, tut, child, this will iot do." Maggie smiled submissively, and made no reply. ' I think, Colonel, 'the children will hive to: excuse her, as she had better be quiet the rest of the after,' noon,' answered Mrs. E;. * ,Why, really, I think I can take the dear girl, with your assistane, to the honeysuckle' bower) and she may rest against your bosom; deair, and enjoy the ceremony. -Don't' you- think so,; Maggie." "Oh, yes, sir, I think I eanugo, she replied, very languidly. "Well, we'- will try," said the Colonel, as hb'6 gently raised her in his arms;, hile Mrs. H. threw a thin mantle about her shoilders. She laid- her head upon the Colonel's shoulder, and he walked off briskly to where the- children' were caperiing around, as merry as young' hearts' could makei them, He went' into the summer-house, an'd, with Mi's. H.'s assistance, he fixbed Maggie quite/ com-l fortabty, supported by Mrs. lI. In a few momenta the children all collacted around, seeing Maggie look so feeble from her day's atigue. What are you all going to do " asked the flashed girl. page: 52-53[View Page 52-53] b2 81LVER LAKE; OB, "Crown a queen of May," said Dulteeka. "Indeed we are," said Sadie; "and you are to be that queen, Maggie." "Oh, not I, coz; it is you. t am an invalid; and, besides, you caught the first fish to-day, arid won the honor." "But," said Dulzeeka, "since we came into the garden we put the matter to vote and drew straws, and it came out you. So now, Miss Maggie, you must not decline the proffered compliment, as you are the chosen one.' "Oh, certainly not," rejoined the Colonel; "Mage gie could not refuse that pretty compliment offered in commemoration of her fifteenth birthday; it is too appropos." Maggie reluctantly consented. By this time the fresh air had a little revived her; and it being time for her hectic to wear off, a gentle moisture was gathering on her lip and brow, which, indeed, heightened the brilliancy of hue upon her cheek, and gave a dazzling expression to her deep, dreamy eyes, whose long, dark lashes, turning a little at the ends, gave an almost angelic expression to her face. Away went the girls, flying around gathering and adding another sweet violet or another half-blown rose or orange blossom to the fragrant crown which they had woven for the brow of the fair young Maggie. Of course Dulzeeka was to deliver the address, while the queen knelt to receive the crown. And now came Clara forth, bearing the fragrant I: f!THE BELIKE OF BAYOU LUi. 5L garland. She stood close by, with a happy counten- -ance. Dulzeeka took the richly scented crown, and Maggie knelt before the little group. He spoke: "Shall I, fair Queen of the6 Lake, this happy day, place upon your gentle brow these, the fittest em- blems of your life, the fragrant rose, the modest violet? These, combined with the evergreens of your native clime, we place upon your head, and may they long live there, and may they strew your pathway and bloom forever through all eternity, is the sincerest wish of us, your subjects." Maggie rose, and replied: To you, my kind subjects, I give thanks for the honor you do -me. The rose will fade, the violet droop its modest head, and b6:' s6en no imore; it6- season is short, its life how fleeting I The bieatifu-i evergreen alone stands the frosts -of time. We perish like: the flowers in their prime; but ;there! there!" she said, pointing above, " there is a region where the sohl springs up again 'to life when w"inter has cut us down. And now, dear young subjects, this will be a green spot in my'memory.' In- a few moments a separation will take place amongst us , we, as friends, must part ; and yout (pointing to Dulzeeka) will soon vanish from amidst us, leav- ing a vacancy in our happy circle. Rememiiber this day, my fifteenth birthday. When you return you may not findlus all here as- now; and th athangels of mercy may watch over you, and keep you free from temptation, is the prayer of your humblbe'qtieen.",' page: 54-55[View Page 54-55] X4 SIlVER LAKi; OR, This said, she seated herself, and looked, indeed, like a fairy queen. The girls rushed forward to kiss her, and the Colonel and Mrs. H. also laimed that privilege.- So ended the ceremonies. '*CO APTERt ,Vl. DULZEEK A LEAVES SILVER LAKE. It was now about time for the children to begin to think of going home, and the Colonel and Mrs. Huntington went to the house with Maggie, who, as the evening air was becoming cool, now wrapped a light shawl around her shoulders. "M y dear," said Mrs. H., "you must not think of returning home this evening, as Clara would be very happy to have you stay with her until you feel better." 4 Oh, do stay, Maggie," excaimed Clara, enforc. ing her mamma's entreaties. "Oh, I thank you, I can not very well do so, as my aunt expects an arrival this evening, and desires that Sadie and I should both be at home." "Well," said Mrs. H., "if you will not stay, the carriage can be got for you." "Thank you," said both the girls in almost the same breath; "I think we can go with George." THE BELLE 0. , BAYOU LUIE. 56 -Hi Ad"Oh, no!no! " said Col. Huntington, who over- heard the conversation ; " our carriage will be ready presently, and I will drive yo. over myself.", In theanext moment the Colonel's vehicle. stood atthe gate in readiness. George took his sister Maggie i his arms and seated he :comfortably, for .s e had taken leave of Estelle, Dulzeeka and Clara, who stood at the stile looking after them. The Colonel took the front seat along side the driver, seized the reins and briskly drove off toward Shadyside. The next departure was that of Estelle and her brother. They lingered talking to Clara and her mamma. "Well, now I am ready, brother," said Estelle as she tied her hat, drew on her gauntlets, fastened her riding habit about the waist, and walked down through the flower-scented avenue to the stile block where their horses stood at the rack. Phil passed through the gate to bring them up, and first Estelle's. Mrs. Huntington stood by giving her some message to deliver to her mother. Dulzeeka stood a moment talking to Clara, who replied, "Yes! oh, yes! I will very freqently." "See that you don't forget. will you, Clara; as there is a very old adage, Out of sight, out of mind.' See that this does not apply, to your case." "And see, too, Master Jus, that it dqe not apply to your own," said Clara, ,as he took Her, girlish hand in his, but spoke: not another word4 as he hur- ried on. out of the gate, where Phil stood holding his I, page: 56-57[View Page 56-57] 56 SILVER LAKE; OR, horse by the reins. Dulzeeka quickly mounted, threw Phil a coin, bowed once more to Mrs. Hunt- ington and Clara, and rode on to overtake Bstelle, who was riding in a quick lope. The two were soon aout of sight. o Well, mamma, it will be a long, long time before wee meet Dulzeeka again. It will be lonesome, too, here." Yes, dear, there must be some amusement gotten up for you children," said her mamma, as she took her daughter by the hand; and Clara affectionately throwing her arms around her mamma's waist, they passed on to the house. CHAPTER VIII. DULZEEKA ENTERS COLLEGE. We now look into the cottage home of Dulzeeka. It is night; the lamp is burning, and all are quietly sleeping in the cottage. The night air fills, through the open windows and doors, the whole house with the fragrance of the honeysuckle, the sweet-brier, the Cherokee rose, as it climbs upon the cottage roof. All is reposing in nature's lovely calm around; not a sound is heard except the sweet notes of the night bird of the forest; the mocking bird, who sits upon a branch of the tall magnolia, THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 57 wipes her beak as she looks into the-cottTagewin. dow and sees the lamp burning arnd the watchfal mother busily paceing the valise of her- noble boy, the pride of her heart; and- as she now places: the last article upon'the top, just where he; can lay his hand upon it, then quietly steals into his little bed- room, and stooping over him as he liesa there in :the delightful dreams of youth and health, she turns back- the curls which celuster oerver is brow and manly face, kneels beside his bed, and beseeches the holy Virgin to protect her. boy, who so soon is to leave her maternal care. The tears spring into her eyes as she kisses again a nd again his boyish brow with a mother's fondest pride;i then softly leaving the room, returns to her own. -,'Bt BUquickly the moments fly, as the night is far spent, which the flickering taper told, asdit had burned to its socket. She lay upon her snowy pillow foir ^ fewai moments repose. ,As soon'-very soon- the, gray of dawn came stealing into the casement windows, and shown brightly upon the cottage gallery,:gleamiing through: the broad, glossy leaves of the spreading live oak, which the fresh air stired in' apen- like motion, when occasionally a branch- s wayed against the cottage- roof, making*a& creaking sound. It roused Mr. Jus from, his slumber, and his call startled, in turn, the two you-ng dreamers,- Iulzeoka and Estelle. They hastily dressed themselves, and went to assist thier mother, who6 was 'falready preparing brealkfast, that he- and hiis father might E page: 58-59[View Page 58-59] 58 SILVER LAKE; OR, be ready for the boat. The meal was soon made ready, served and dispatched, and Mr. Jus and Dul- zeeka were standing upon the bank as the cannon of the Patrick Henry sounded the signal upon the Luie. They took leave of Estelle and her mother, as they stood watching the steamer as it gracefully rounded to for them to get aboard. The majestic steamer wheeled on her hissing wings, swelling the bosom of the waters, which it seemed almost sinful to disturb. But it hurried away in rapid commotion, making resound the dis- tant woods that slumbered in their forest solemnity. Firemen, in their red flannel shirts, were busily en- gaged in filling the hot furnaces, and singing away a favorite boat song: "Oh, merrily glides our bonny boat, boys." The deckhands joined in the loud chorus. Dulzeeka stood upon the guards watching the scenery. It seemed new to him. Rapidly passed the time; hour after hour flew by; he scarcely knew when dinner was announced. The passengers par- took of the sumptuous meal, and then repaired to the upper deck, or to their stateroom to rest. Dul. Zeeka and his father sat upon the deck until the shade of evening gathered around. The breezes were filled with odors from the fragrant blossoms of the wild vines and the China tree growing upon the banks that bordered the highly improved sugar and cotton plantations, whose white cabins stood ; d11:THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 5 thickly and in systematic order, looking like small villages. For miles the boat scarcely' passed one of those beautiful places before another was in view. The beauties of that night, with its sparkling moon- light reflected in the bubbling waters that were dashed against the banks in such, rolling swells as though they would tear asunder, were, indeed, a charming sight to the young traveler, as on the steamer passed, leaving its track boiling and foam- iug in the rear of the boat. They now were near the "' cut-off," known by the boatmen as the Atcha- falya, where the Red mixeswith the Black river, for they had long since passed the mouth of the Bayou Luie. Not far from this bend of Red river is the place historically known as the grave oe of of the early pioneers, Ferdinand DeSoto. En passing it is always pointed out to the .stranger by the boatmen. At hand, too, is the place where the beautiful Evange- line sat and sighed alone as the dark watersapassed i by. She gazed and gazed, sadly upon the stream, while it rocked and tossed her frail barquae, as so vividly described by Longfellow. Nothing more beautiful than sweet Evangeline. The night was far spent, and the passengers had retired, and had been lulled to -sleep by the motion of the boat. They were planters going to the Cres- cent city to deliver their crops to their merchants. But they were early aroused by the loud ringing of the bell, and many inquired at the stateroom door, page: 60-61[View Page 60-61] 60 SILVER LAKE; OR, and were told they were below the mouth of Red river, and near the Red Church. Dulzeeka and his father emerged from their room, with valise and baggage tightly strapped, and passed out. through the gentlemen's cabin and the hall to the gangway, and down the stairs to the deck. The small bell tingled, out was shoved the plank, and soon the two stood upon the bank in front of the College of the Red Church. The tap of the signal bell of the boat was pres- j ,ently heard; the busy hauling in of the mooring. lines begn; the familiar sound, "yo, yo," echoed and re-echoed on the opposite shore, until the last rope was withdrawn, and the boat had turned her broad side, and was drifting down with the mighty current of the deep, murmuring Mississippi. And there, upon the green slope, stood Mr. J. and Badzeeka, gazing upon the scene around them: the turbulent waters, dashing in troubled grandeur back of them, and the dark clouds of smoke enveloping the white and beautiful steamer as she departed, while the handsome structure of the Red Church rose before them, its bells then chiming for mass. Figures were moving to and from the church; some in sable habiliments, going with measured steps. Anon a fair form would emerge from thechurch, book in hand, and the morning prayer still fresh upon her lip. Her sunny brow told that she was a Creole. She, too, had bent her knee and made the sign of the cross at the holy font. THE BELLE OF BAYOU. LUIE. 61 Mr. Jus and Dulzeeka made their way to the church, and, for the first time in Dulzeeka's recol- lection, did he bend the knee in his own church, and count his beads by his fath0r's side, for there was no church upon the lake to attend. They finished their prayers and proceeded to the college. Arriving there, they were ushered into the recep- tion room to await the appearanee of Father Alveni, the President, who was then at mass. Dulzeeka stood near the window, and looked out in admira- tioniupon the beautiful walks and enclosures, the play grounds and promenades of the boys. Said. he: "Father, I know I will be content in this beauti- ful retirement. I know a youth must acquire knowl- edge here if he will apply himself, for such a place must stimulate and inspire one, I am sure." "I am proud to hear you talk thus, my boy. If you are determined to profit by your advantages, it is all I ask. Let nothing lead you into ill practices, or estrange you from your promisesto your mother; your kind uncle and myself. You will find boys: here, no doubt, who are wayward and disobedient; but let their counsels and fascinations be what they may, do not let them have any effect upon you." "Oh never fear, father," cried Dulzeeka, rather in- terrupting him. "You will never have cause to be ashamed of your boy, I'll warrant." Just then the President entered, and with him ,a gray haired old mian, stout, thick and very heavy- set, who came puffing and panting as though he was K' page: 62-63[View Page 62-63] 62 SILVER LAKE; OR fatigued from ascending the stairs to the reception room. He walked toward Mr. Jus, and extended his hand, looking at the youth who stood beside his father. As he turned he said: "And this is the boy, is it, senor?" 4' Yes, sir," replied Mr. Jus, in Spanish; " this is my boy, Dulzeeka." Then, turning to his son, he said: "This is your uncle, Delbigo Jus, and, Presi- dent, this is my boy," continued Mr. J., presenting him to the President. The four seated themselves near each other. Delbigo, turning to the President, said: "Father Alveni, this boy we place in this holy institution to have without regard to price, a finished education. He must understand thoroughly the classics. We also place him in your spiritual charge and training. Let not that be neglected." Then he added: "We had best draw up an instrument to that effect, as regular remittances will be forthcoming from me at New Orleans to defray all expenses. "My nephew," continued the old man, "is not able to bring up this boy as he ought to be, therefore I now take him in hand; and, as soon as his course is through here, be it understood, that he comes immediately under my supervision, let what will happen, as it is all right that I should have value received for what I do. It will, in the end, be to the boy's advantage. You understand, father, what I mean, don't you?" said the puffing old man, looking at the President. "Ah, yes, yes,' replied father. Alveni, as he seated THE BELLEZm OF BAYOU LUIE. himself at a desk in one corner of the room, and taking a key from his pocket he inserted it into the keyhole. The lid sprang open. In a few moments the agreement was drawn up. It was signed by all parties. The regulations of the college were placed before the boy; the father and uncle requesting, at the same time, frequent reports to be sent them of his progress, and his welfare generally. Then each, taking leave of the young student, left for his home. The President now repaired to the class room and introduced Dulzeeka to the boys. He cast' a glance around the room, with his naturally placid air; his eye rested upon a boy near his own age, as he supposed. He had large, blue eyes, full' of ex. pression, and smiled as his gaze met Dulzeeka's. Though his visage was rather thin, yet in that face there was a kindness not to be found in every coun- tenance. He displayed, as his lips parted, a splendid set of pearly teeth. Hisl hair was a dark chesnut brown. Though it was cut short, there was a glossy smoothness: in its texture not usually seen. Father Alveni spoke to Father La Piere, who stepped forward and asked Dulzeeka to go to the examination room with him. There he found Father Qrlando occupied with some other students who had that day entered the college, and had just passed their examination. Dulzeeka, with the fath- ers, entered the room, and was seated for a moment. page: 64-65[View Page 64-65] THE BELLE OP BAYOU LUIE. 65 OI byUMVZ v UA , V jil , "Well," said Father Orlando, approaching Dti- zeeka, " my son, you have come amongst us to link your lot with -ours for a season, and as you enter these walls may the blessings of the holy saints fall upon you. Do you think you can be happy in sojourning with us, and becoming one of us, far -X from the trials of the world, its miseries, its temp- tations? Can you live the life that we live: peaces : fal, harmonious and pleasant? We have not many strifes nor bickerings; nothing to disturb us. My son, do you feel that you can abide with us, and partake of our enjoyments, and join in our holy i- prayers?" "I do, kind father,' replied Dulzeeka, in a firm7 decided tone. "I will try to obey every injunction of this institution, and am persuaded that in so doing I shall have the blessings of the Order upon me; and may I prosper in that faith in which my good mother has instructed me."' ", And is your mother of the true faith, my noble youth?" asked Father Orlando. "She is, good father, true to the rites of the Church, and it is the dearest desire of her heart that her children may live in the same." "Blessed saints and holy Virgin! It must be so, then; her son must lbe trained in the way she would have him go; and may our efforts, my boy, be crowned with success. A blessing be on youri youthful head!" And now the two drew near a table, which was filled with books, and Father Orlando began to- examine Dulzeekain the ordinary English branches. In these he found Dulzeeka. acquit himself with credit. A few moments after the bell rang, and he passed, with two of the priests, to the play grounds, whither the boys were gone, two- by two.- Thore was one who seemed alone. The other boys who had been examined before Dulzeeka had been classed, and had passed out; but the last boy was Walter Glidewell, the blue-eyed youth already re. marked by Dulzeeka. By chance :these boys were now thrown together, and an intimacy instantly sprang up between them. Of course this in a great measure relieved some of the home-sickness which Dulzeeka naturally felt in his first absence from his Silver Lake home, -his beloved parents and sister. v*IAPT]R IX -CHAPTTE R IX. aSHADYSIDE. -To these we now return. Col. Huntington gal- lantly escorted Maggie and Sadie to their home at Shadyside. On reaching the house they were ;all three introduced to a lady whom they found seated in the gallery enjoying the delightful breeze which swept through the tall- magnolias that shaded the page: 66-67[View Page 66-67] " SiLVEB LAKE; o, OR, house and galleries. The Colonel rested a few , moments, after passing -the compliments of the i occasion, then bidding the ladies good evening, and : seating himself in his carriage, drove briskly home. Mrs. Rovington was of a graceful figure, rather above the medium hight, with a face almost trans- . ? patently fair; hair and eyes of raven blackness, and a pensive sweetness in her expression, as though ' she had made acquaintance with sorrow. The deep mourning which she wore only added to the white .. ness of her complexion. She gazed at Maggie earn. , i: estly for a moment, and beheld in her face more, than ordinary beauty. Buat, alas! alas! thought she, that deep hue upon her young cheek is too X unnatural; the destroyer is there at work; a sad victim sto disease; the blight is on the brow of that ; fair young flower; ,too soon, too soon, she will pass . away! Many long months had passed, and, indeed, nine i golden summers had swept by with fleeting wings ;? since Mrs. Rovington had left Shadyside. Just nine years before she was the happy young bride of a noble young planter, who had settled a planta- tion in the neghborhood. But a few short months ended their happy -union, and disease stole him from. his fair companion, and left her to mourn his early demise. And now circumstances had required her' presence, after so many years of absence, at her once happy home. There was a lawsuit about to be set on foot, and it was necessary to have an examina THE BELLE OF P'BAYOU LUIE. 67 tion of some records at the village of W----,bthere- fore immediately after her arrival at Shadyside pre- parations were made for a journey the next morning. Sadie and her father were to accompany- her; so orders were given by Mrs. Holstein to the cook for an early breakfast, and Mr. Holstein directed the' horses to be saddled- and at the rack at sunrise- in the morning. After :a long chat over the past and present, the future, and the- changes time had made in the old friends, Mrs., Rovington and, Mrs. Hol- stein bid good night, and retired to rest. On the morrow the dawning of a golden morn roused the household at Shadyside; and Sadie and Mrs. Rovington, dressing themselves in-their aiding habits and hats, took a light breakfast. They soon stood upon- the blocks, ready to mount their finely equipped horses. A moment after the three were in their saddles, and dashed off at an easy lope. They passed through the heavily shaded weood of pines, which overhung them with boughs beridin'g under the dewdrops of early morn. Thence -they rode down a winding valley that led to a deep slough. This they forded., Next they plunged through the thick cane, the underbrush,and entang- ling wild vines, over a marshy soil,- where their horses were like to mire-in setting their feet upon I the springy earth. ' Now, Sadie," said Mrs. Rovington,' 'for an ad- . venture. If we get out of this swamp with our garments untorn, I shall exult." page: 68-69[View Page 68-69] 68 SILVER LAKE; OR, "Oh," replied Sadie, laughing loudly, a if we get out without broken limbs, I am sure I shall be B glad." The words had scarcely escaped her lips -;X when Mrs. Rovington's horse got his hind feet entangled in a suple-jack vine. Instantly he comn- X menoed rearing, plunging and snorting. Of course this sort of performance frightened the fair rider very much. But Mr. Holstein cried out to her to ? loosen her rein. She did so, and at once her steed, -i with a fresh bound or two, flung off his trammels, -i greatly to the relief of the equestrienne. ? But Sadie, who was following close behind her, :H: got presently more entangled than she had been, and screamed, Mercy I I shall be off!" at the same / time seizing firmly the horn of the saddle, and letting Button have the rein almost entirely, as deeper and deeper he got into the tangle of the :; treacherous suple-jack, which had partly concealed itself by growing low upon the ground, and, in places, under the rich black soil. On and on But- a ton plunged and reared, Sadie sitting as firmly as though she was immovable as the tall cypress tree, in which the vine had fastened its high-climbing i and tough, viney branches. "Sit perfectly still, Sadie," said her father;!"But- X ton will get through with you safely." "Believe me, I'll do that," replied the courageous ! Sadie. I'll trust to Button." And again the ani. :i mal made another surge, but he sank back deeper into the tangle. , THE BELLE OF EBAYOTU LUn. 69 "Try again, my noble Button," said Mrs. Roving- ton, shutting her eyes, for she feared Sadie would be off in the next effort of the horse. But again he made a plunge, as though he was determined to get, through this time. It was without avail, as still he was tangled in the vines more closely than ever. ) "What is the matter, Button, that you can not get out of this?" said Sadie, as she looked toward her father. \ "Don't be frightened, Sadie. Hold to your pom- mel tightly/' said her father. "I think he will bring you out now. I can not get my horse where I can assist you." "Oh, never fear, father; Button will come direct- ly. Now he goes! Look ilook!" she cried, at the top of her voice, as Button snorted, and dashed, and plunged against the vine which had twisted itself from the earth, and had worked across his breast. Now, thought Sadie, it is growing worse and worse; he is getting more and more into the tangle. "Get up, Button, my noble Button, get up!" and she gave him a slight touch with her whip. He sprang to one side, and in a few moments her saddle was turning; and now poor Button tried harder and harder to extricate himself, and down came Sadie into the slough and mire above her shoe tops. By this time her father ran to her assistance, and taking his pocket knife he cut the entanfgled vines from around Button, and fixing the saddle, put Sadie into it again. . page: 70-71[View Page 70-71] 70 SILVER IAKE; OR, Free at last, the travelers started on their journey, with Sadie's riding habit pretty well draggled in the i: ji mire from the slough and the quick sand, and rents '? by the wild vines. But all this was fun when it was I over. They chatted merrily as they passed along - through the densely shaded woods. For miles there was no house to be seen, and nothing but the -T crackling of the cattle's hoofs was to be heard, as they were feeding upon the wild grass, cane and the s green herbage. The feathered songsters filled the groves with their melody, and our travelers would occasionally stop to drink of the still waters of the i Luie. They wound along its banks in going toward :. the village of W- . The noonday sun beamed ! upon them with hi& powerful effulgence; but on the X party rode, anxious to accomplish their journey of thirty miles that day, -not giving way a moment to , fatigue; but spurring up their noble horses, and : chatting away for miles at a stretch, passing ^ through beautiful groves of magnolia and of the grand cane, then on Through the deep swamps of cypress, crossing the bayous, thickly studded; with :: that peculiar growth, cypress knees, where at every i : step the horse would stumble, and almost throw the riders unceremoniously from the saddle into the -:: deep waters, so darkly colored by the foliage of' the X tall trees (a deposit of perhaps years), and the moss :! which fell from the trees lay in heaps of decomuo- :A sition amongst the quicksands, giving a strange, redish color to the waters of the Bayou ILuie. THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 71 Now, as the gentle breezes of evening began to' blow, and the rays of the sun became less oppres- sive, the travelers began to approach the more thickly settled plantations. tI think, father," said Sadie, "]I begin to know where I am; and yonder opening must be the village of W---, though it seems a great way off yet.?' "We are now just sil miles, Sadie, from W-, ' and for those six miles' we have a splendid road, smooth, even, green, and altogether delightful. So spur up your horses, ladies, and we will soon! be there. Brighten up, for court is in session, and all of the talent of the adjoining parishes will be on hand," continued Mr. Holstein, looking at Mrs. Rov- ington'with a rather mischievous smile. ,'Look' out that you do not lose a heart or two in hunting the records, ladies, for there are some noble fellows that plead at thins bar, and I happen to be well acquainted with them."e "And I," said Sadie; "I shall nuot wonder if Mrs. Rovington makes a number of conrquests." "Not I, dear Sadie," replied Mrs.!R. -' am proof against Cupid's darts and quivers.' -She smiled and blushed as she spoke. "Well, I can't vouch for that," said Mr. Holstein, in his pleasant, good-humored way. , ' Nor I either, father," said Sadie. "Wait until We return, then we will decide that question." "Well, we'll see," continued Mrs. R, as they rode briskly, along, for they were now in the out- page: 72-73[View Page 72-73] 72 SILVER LAKE; OR, . skirts of the village, whose white buildings were scattered about amidst beautiful gardens and broad -i green yards, filled with roses, shrubbery and en- - twining vines that climbed up the lattices and porch I columns above and below, mingling their colors with woodbine and double multaflora, that formed flowery shades, behind which sat ladies in their neat white-barred muslin dresses, with pine buds tastefully arranged in their hair, as there they sat - H to enjoy the pleasant breeze and society of some good neighbor who had called and was just about ^ departing as the travelers were passing by. "I wonder who that strange lady is with Mr. Holstein and Sadie?" said Mrs. McC., as she sat ,; upon her gallery, and drew down her glasses from her cap border, while the three rode up to the large granite steps to dismount, and Mr. Holstein started toward the house to speak to Mrs. McLure, and see a whether or not she could entertain them while they A were at W--, ' '" ", Why, certainly," she replied in her hospitable manner. "Bring the ladies in. Court is in session, and I have a full house. The judge and all the law- yers are stopping with-me; but we will make room for the ladies and yourself." Quick as thought the . - bell rang, the hostler was at his post, and Mr. Hol- a stein helped the tired ladies to dismount. They passed from the platform down the shell walk to ? the long balcony, and thence into the sitting room. After Sadie had introduced her "mother's -friend, i M2 THE BELLE OF BAYOU. LUIE. 73 Mrs. Rovington," to lMrs. McLure, they seated them- selves. The pleasant hostess left the room, and in a few moments returned, and invited the ladies to take off-their riding hats. ' Presently came in a girl of very charming form, faice and carriage, whom, as she- entered, Sadie rose to greet. It was the hostess' daughter. oer figure was of perfect symmetry; and of a grace and elegance rarely to be seen in any circle. She seemed, indeed, a person of uncommon endowments ;- her conversational powers were astonishing; yet her education had been all acquired in the village of W----, than whose schools, however, no portion of' country could boast of finer ones, nor no'village of better society, in point of taste, literature and refine- ment. , "Well, Minnie," said Sadie,. it I have long prom- ised myself this treat of a visit to this flourishing; town of yours." "Yes, I know; but these promises were easily broken; and, I presume, I can only -thank your' friend, Mrs. Rovington, for the present arrival of yoar very acceptable visit," replied Miss MoLure. "Indeed you may," .rejoined Mrs. Rovington; "tthough Sadie very gladly accepted the opportunity: of accompanying me. I must return her my deep'- est gratitude for her great moral courage in under- taking such a trip as she has had to-day with us." "We will try and make her visit as pleasant as possible," replied Miss Mxinnie, ,. that she may leave; page: 74-75[View Page 74-75] 74 SILVER LAKE; OR, us so favorably impressed as to long to come back. By the way, Sadie, I wish you would become a resi- dent of W--- ," she continued, looking at Sadie and smiling, with a look which gave intimation of a special meaning in her words. Mrs. Rovington caught the arch expression in Minnie's face, and said:"Oh, ho, Sadie! 1 have found you out now! Why did you not tell me about that favored one in the village? I must have :a look at him." Of course you shall," replied Minnie, coughing, as though it was rather for effect. . : "You are dealing in mysteries now, Minnie," replied Sadie, "for I do not know whom you have allusion to." "Very innocent, Miss Sadie; very innocent, in- deed," said Minnie, laughing. "Time will prove all things." "'Yes, Time is a queer old fellow, and plays strange freaks, I must confess; and that would be . one of them, I think," replied Sadie. "One of them?" said Mrs. Rovington. There must be some meaning in your remark, Miss . Minnie, or she would not blush so deeply. Now, Sadie, we have caught you in a net before you knew it." The three laughed heartily, and Sadie seemed a little annoyed, and said: "Minnie is good at turning the joke on any one, Mrs. Rovington; you had -better look out for breakers " "Oh, there's no danger with me, Sadie. I am : " 'Hn BMtAE o -BAAYtO LUIE. 7 ' almost a stranger b in' ,this land, and my stay will be' rather brief for thati" replied Mrs. R., in a grave tone. Here the conversation was interrupted. "i Thank;ful," said Mrs. Miclure to her youngest daughter, who just then came into the room, " will you please s'how the ladies :the room iprepared"Tor them in the left wing) and see that it is well ventil- ated, for this is a very warm evening, and I am sure theywill, after their fatiguing trip through the swamps, feel as if they wanted all the fresh air that they can get; and, Thanky, see too that there is water, towels, and-everything they require." "' Yes, mother," replied Thankful, who by this time had her arm around Sadie'swaist, as thie passed into the hall, accompanied by Mrs.: R. "Why didn't you answer my last letter, Sadie?" inquired Thankful, confidentially, as they walked on, Mrs. R. in front of them. "Why,\Thanky, I have only one reason to offetc which is this: at the time of its arrival I was watch- ing by poor Maggie's sick bed, who we feared would not get up again; aad our whole time was devoted to her. Either mother or I had to be with her con- stantly." "Poor Maggie,". said Thankful. "HEow is she, Sadie, and what is the matter?" "I can not tell. She seems to be fading away, yet so gently it is hardly perceptible. Every day I see that she is growing weaker and more feverish." "' Does she have .a cough.?" * a s'* , page: 76-77[View Page 76-77] 9. a 76 sIJEBR LAKEil; a 'Not much. It can scarcely be called a settled cough; and only when she has fever does her respi-* ration seem bad. Her physician told mother, a few days since, that he feared Maggie was in a decline. But mother did not dare to tell her of it." "Oh, I hope not; dear young girl," replied Thankful. "It would seem so hard for her to diO so young. Oh, how beautiful Maggie is!" "She is," said Sadie, "more beautiful than ever now; her color is soQ high, and her eyes so very bright. I hope she will got well, for I would miss Maggie sadly if we were to lose her. She does not think but that she will get well. Dear girls sighed Sadie, as she wiped away the tear which was moist- ening her cheek. How strange that disease is. One never know& when they are going to die with it. They can not be convinced that they have consumption, and then it is so flattering. They will seem better one day, and the next they droop and die. The ladies had reached the room door of the left wting, and the conversation now turned upon an- ether subject. nTE BEliME biP- JAlYO- IUIE. t CHAPTER X, THE VISIARS AT WINSBOBO. "Now," said Thanky, as she turned to leave the room, " make yourselves perfeetly at home. If you need a servant, just ring and the bell will be an- swered instantly; and when you have refreshed, yourselves, and are a little rested, wale down to the , parlor. By that time supper will. be ready." She closed thb door after her, and went down the stairs, bummning a iheerfi I air. She was a gay girl just entering her seventeenth year, and from child- hood had displayed a contented disposition, that looked on the bright side of everything, and made all around her feel happy. Many good friends had she, and not an enemy. All loved Thanky in the village. The mention of her -name, indeed, carried a charm in its very sound; and many a bachelor sighed as he looked at her in her artless beauty, and thought how happy he would be to win one so joy- ous. But, as I ' Thatkfv was not -for him he- young heart had found a congenial one, whose whiAeed tiale of love had long since been breathed in the gentle breeze of eve, as he plucked the plir white rose bud, emblematic of herself, and placed it in her flowing auburn, ringlets that fell beside her peach-like cheek. This was Edward Pierce, heir to a large estate. He had been absent twelve long years, but hsd n6 returned $t them Village, with -a fniihd education page: 78-79[View Page 78-79] 78 SILVER LAKEE 4jl X and a fine profession. He had taken possession of i " his property with the fairest prpspects to begin life. So all thought in the village. , , Supper being throug ththe ladies withdrew to the , parlor, and under the skillful performance of Miss - Minnie they had some fine music. Sadie and Thanky had a promenade on the balcony, attended : ,by several gentlemen. Now, the business which called Mrs. Rovington to the village was the soloe topic of conversation, : and, of course, aroused some interest among the villagers. The news of her arrival soon spread through./the town, and conjectures were rife that unfair proceedings had been practiced to divest her of her rights in her husband's estate. But as the , courts were then in session, and the principal law- yers were too much occupied for a few days to , attend particularly to her case, their stay would be somewhat prolonged. This was quite agreeable to :: Sadie and Thanky, for they would have found -, enough to occupy their time pleasantly had they : been together a full month. They had now spent X several delightful days with their young friends in : I and near the village;. had received many calls, and :iX these calls must be returned. X Indeed, it absolutely rained visits in the parlor. X 'Tis a sort of storm almost confined to fine weather. : Amongst those who called the most frequently was Gen. Harper, a member of the bar. Though not a. . soldier, he had'acquired the title by popular brevet : THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 79 His manners were very prepobsesing, his figure fine, manly and erect; his face and air altogether com- manding and courtly. He was about five and forty years old, and a dashing beau, somewhat given to flattering, especially when meeting with a fair young widow as was she; but common courtesy required his attentions should be divided between Miss Minnie and Mrs. Rovington. They had invitations to take buggy rides, to go across the prairie, and on fish- ing -excursions. And now there was to be a party at the town hall, given in compliment to the village belles and the two fair visitors, Miss Sadie and Mrs. ]Rovington. The whole town, old and young, joined by anticipation in the festival. Cards were sent three days in advance, and the beaux were op thorns for fear they would not have good music. To make sure of the best, they dispatched a mess senger to the capital, where there was a military post and a splendid brass band. Of course the belles and 'beaux of the neighboring parishes werso eager to participate on receiving invitations. CHAPTER XI. THE VILLAGE BELLES, At length the all-important evening arrived.. There was a constant ringing of the hostler's bell' at the door of the village hotel, and a continued. page: 80-81[View Page 80-81] 80 SILVER LAKE; OR, o ?a rolling of carriage wheels coming and going. In- . deed, tlhere was a general commotion throughout the town; Every servant was moving briskly about, as though it was a moment of uncommon 7 emergency, while they were seen taking the large . freezers of ice cream and immense pound and fruit cakes, not to speak of large glass stands filled with - colored candies, and fresh berries and fruits, all of which precipitated themselves toward the town hall, as a sumptuous supper was at hand. Thankful and Sadie were in their room; and as Sadie made her last broad auburn Madonna plait, and drew it from the back of Thankful's head to the front, fastening it with a rich diamond butter- . fly, which quivered and danced upon its spray just over Thankful's brow, she stepped back a little way s. and gazed at the beautiful girl in wondering amaze- A ment, as she exclaimed, "Oh, Thanky, Thanky, I never saw you look half so lovely before. What will Edward say, I wonder?" - "He will only say," replied Thankful in her art- less manner, "that I will pass in a crowd or in the dark, for that is lhis way of complimenting me." - B But, Thankful, you look charming this evening, and if I could only look half so well, I would feel 4; perfectly satisfied. Well, now, hold still, beauty,' !/ continued Sadie; "let me put this splendid moss , rosebud, which our friend Mr. W. presented me, in my boquet. There, that gives it the finishing touch; i l and when you get on your pure white dress, trim- THE BO-LLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 81 med with the scarlet cypress buds, I know no body in the room will l-osok more brilliant." ' Oh, Sadie, I am sure there is nothing that more becomes an olive complexion than the rich amber which you have in your moire; and the contrast with the orange leaves and buds in your ;very dark hair will have a charming effect. 'Then I will curl your hair in those becoming ringlets, an'd let them fall lightly and gracefully around your face. I know you will captivate L-- with your off-hand and dashing manner. -But," said Thankful, who stood looking into Sadie's face, with those liquid brown eyes o hers beaming with the most ardent affection, but at the same moment looking at het watch, she cried, "look, Sadie, it is already half past eight, and Edward and Lenno will call for tid precisely at nine o'clock. We must 'hurry. I hare your hair to dress. Now, dear, let's make haste, for Edward does not like much to wait. He is a little peculiar about those things. u"And do you allow Edward to dictate to you, Thanky, already'? I am sure I would not suffer that yet, for it is quite, time enough to co-me under masculine jurisdiction when they have Us c-aged." "Ha! ha!" screa:med T-hanky. "And you call C yourself caged when you have given yourself away and have had-the knot tied, do you 7? "I do; and not before that will I yield to th3Sir freaks and whims. Indeed, it is not I that- will ask them at what moment I shall be ready to go out of * And, page: 82-83[View Page 82-83] 82 SILVER LAKE; OR, an an evening. What an idea, Thanky McLure! You - perfectly astound me, girl. Never place yourself % that much in Edward Piercers power. I scout at J: the idea" ( "But, Sadie," replied Thankful, "I think it is nothing more than right that we should consult the pleasure of those we expect to be united to for better and for worse. For my part it gives me : pleasure to respect Fdward's wishes; and it does not displease me at all to yield such things. I can : do it without making any sacrifice of my own rights-my woman's rights." "Now, Thanky, I am no advocate for what is ? commonly termed woman's rights. Only to a cer- X tain extent do I think we women have rights; and as it is perfectly natural that man should think that . we of the gentler sex are, in every respect, inferior to him, I have a great propensity not to yield to his foolish whims; and, now that we -have set this argument agoing, I think we will resume it at a future time." ' "But," said Thanky, ' let it be in the presence of somre of those 'lords of creation' who sit in judg- ment on all such questions." "Indeed, I shall," replied Sadie, "for I know I ^ can sustain my argument. Yet I have a horror of being classed with {strong-minded women' as they ar, called, and' woman's rights' folks, but will contend that we have rights." ::I "And I, too," said Thanky, to a certain degree. THE BVEILE OF B AYOU LUI]B. 8S But, friend Sadie, this will make you a little unpop- auar with the gentlemen." s A fig for the gentlemen' " said Sadie, laughing, 'I believe in showing indifference toward them, and they will think all the more of me for my doing so . - "But, Sadie, many of them do not know how to take you." s' Just as they please," replied Sadie; "I will not turn one inch out of my way to plehse any of them." "But, Sadie, you must not talk in that way to them.' We must..use a little pohey in order to get along with the other sex.'^ "Policy! There is no better policy than a frank tone and opern heart. Do you know,.Thanky, that it is this studied way of pleasing and trying to plIase that makes the flirt, the arrant and heartless coquette? This habit of effect, of assuming unnatu- ral manners, is Just what makes many a lovely girl odious in the sight of many a man." a Very true. -I dislike affectation, too; but there is sorme little policy to be observed toward every one with whom we are thrown if we desire to secure their friendship; ard this you will find the case through life." 'dNot with me, my dear Thanky. 1 will chalk out a plain matter of fact path, and you will find I will tread it." ' Very true% dear, I know you will tread -it, and page: 84-85[View Page 84-85] 84- SILVER LAKE; OR, nmake many a friend, too, and such friends as are XW be relied upon, those worthy of your esteem. I . know, Sadie, that you are one of those whole-souled I. beings rarely to be met with; but the great mass of :.;, people do not, in this world of deceit, appreciate ^J one of such sterling qualities, because they them- - selves are of a different nature, and are all the j: while seeking those propensities in others which they themselves have." "Well, Thanky, if I never find that one who ' exactly comes up to my ideas of a true, frank, inde- . pendent man, who relies upon his own natural man- ner, is far above the cringimg fear of what some -I body may not like in the cut of his clothes or salutes- tion to an'acquaintance, or the style of his bow, or some other equally trivial thing, I shall remain - Sadie H. I am not one to be attracted by the elegant appearance of a gentleman, for the old :: adage is, that 'appearances are deceitful.'" -' Well, Sadie," said Thankful, laughing, "I'll lay : a wager that you'll be captivated by some fop yet, and I think I know one who will fascinate you be- : fore you are dreaming of it." ?' "Well, if he does I shall say that I know little of : human nature, and can not read much of its ways in X man ." ; : "Sadie, I would give a good deal to'See you when you get to be Mrs. Lenno De ---. I know you will be bewitched with him, unaware8; and I ex- -= THE BELLE OF BIAYOU LUIE. 851 pect to see you in that palace home before another year rolls around"' is Oh," said Sadie, laughing muAch, , that flirt, that coxcomb, captivate me! What an idea, Thanky MoLure! Do you think for a moment I would let him name that, subject to me? No, you do not know me, child. Besides, he would never think of one of my disposition; he admires a dashing,showy girl, fashionable and full of city airs." "'We'll see about that, Sadie," said Thanky, a she took up her watch again, and found it was now juest 9 o'clock. {Hurry, Sadie, the gentlemen will come for us in a moment. I suspect they are already dancing at the hall.' "Mercy' said Sadie, "I forgot that we were, going fit. I will be ready in a moment. I have just to stretch my gloves, then I am ready. Oh, this parade Jlast for an' evening! But 'tis the way with life. Appearance, how it sways us all!" In the next moment a servant tapped at the door. Sadie and Thanky knew the, summons, threw their mantles on and hurried down to the parlor, where thaey found Edward Pierce and Lenno Desha. * page: 86-87[View Page 86-87] 86 SILVER LAKRE; O, - ts CHtAPTER XII. THE COMPLIMENTARY PART Y. F ' "Good evening, gentlemen," said the ladies, as they walked toward the bay window where the two T gentlemen had been seated, but rAse to bow to the ? girls as they entered. .1 "I am sorry we have. kept ybu waiting/' said Thanky, directing toward Edward more especially ! her remarks. . "That does. not matter,"' replied Lenno, in a soft . and tender manner. "I never tire when ladies are -? in question." {"Well, that is decidedly in good taste, and alto- gether in accordance with the ideas of many ladies who wish to have their own time to prepare for any place of amusement. They do not wish to be hur- ::? ried and flurried through life in a way that conflicts with their own convenience," answered Sadie, jest- aft ingly. ' "But, Miss Sadie, that will not do in very many ? cases. A lady, as well as a gentleman, should give X hewself so many hours of the day to devote to the ;: different duties they may have for each day. In -5 that way they will preserve system and order. They should assign a portion of the day to bodily exercise, and a portion to the culture of the mind, in order that the faculties which nature has given them may never lie dormant for a moment. By this course there would be no habits formed -except THE BELLE OP BAYOU LUIE. 87 those of usefulness. Life would always be pleasant and happy,' said Edward, who was a little addicted to playing the philosopher. ' Very true, Mr. Pierce but gentlemen do not know that ladies can not always adjust these nice- ties of system and order which they of the mascu- line gender are always preaching up to mothers, their sisters, and sometimes sweethearts," replied Sadie, casting a look of insinuation toward Thanky, who had not joined in the conversation, but left, Edward and Sadie to a discussion- between them- selves, which now threatened to prove exciting, as neither of them was likely to yield to the other. "Well," said Lenno, who began to smooth the fingers of his tightly fitting tan colored kids, " when our friends shall have a little further debated this very important topic, this nice controversy, which, I must add, somewhat retards our progress, ailov -me to say, if you please, that we are at your servico at any moment. The carriage is at-the door, and they have b,:en dancing for the last half hour. Our card, Miss Sadie, calls for the quadrille No. 8, I think, does it not?" "I believe so,'"'replied,Sadie, who rose, and at whose rising the controversy ceased. Edward and! Tbanky started out, and 'Lenno and Sadie followed closely after them. They got into the carriage; the four seated themselves; the driver clo;sed the door, and in ten minutes they were'before the town hall, which was biilliantly lighted- up. Tho music ** "- ", page: 88-89[View Page 88-89] O0 bIljVYtLt JJA1Vi , ULaf was ringing"out, and the prompter's voice sounded cheerfully as he sang out, "Forward four; the two first couple cross over, and back to your places again." "In the next moment the four entered the dancing hall, and there found groups of happy people chatting merrily upon different topics, or looking after the dancers, who moved around with the gaiety of youth and elasticity of health. X Presently the set was finished and No. 8 was called. Edward and. Thanky,' Sadie and Lenno X stood opposite and formed the first couple. In a moment the set filled up; the little bell sounded, - and O, the graceful bows of the gentlemen and the coquettish courtesies ocf the ladies that ensued! The dance began, and how smoothly did Sadie glide through the measure. There was none who could dance with such sylph-like ease as Miss Holstein. Lenno watched her symmetrical figure as, she passed along in such perfect time to the music. She was very erect, and considerably above the : medium hight, of well rounded limbs, and a tour-" nure altogether rare. Though not remarkably handsome in features, she was very winning, and her manners were pleasant, lively, and yet com- manding. Some might think at first acquaintance that there was a certain degree of sarcasm about her, but a few moments' conversation would dispel the idea. Her air and gait had perfectly enchained! the attention of Lenno, who by this time stood at TElt BELE. OP BAYOU LUIE. r side, as the set was not yet finished. She wa* tertaining him with her wit, good humor and nversationalt powers in the pauses of the dance s'seemed by this time to think of no one else, d this was the remark of the belles of the village, ' Lenno Deshawas always called the ladies' man, great beau, the favorite. More than one girl 1 sighed for him; to more than one had he told t tales of love. The last one that he was with s al-waysw his adored, his flame, his favorite, w, No. 8 was ended) and seats were resumed; n eame; the varsouvienne. There were many of belles who danced this beautiful dance. Thanky Edward were admirable at this; they were y the best in the room. But where were Lenn0 Sadie by this time? Seated by one of the id windows in an engrossing conversation, they not participate in the varsouvienne;. and it was hed without their being aware that any such g as a dance from the muchi oppressed country Losciusko had ever been trodden. . oantime the attention of Edward and Thankful directed toward Sadie and Lenno, who still their seats at the window. . rhat will not do, Thanky," said Edward; :I not danced with Miss Sadie; her whole timn f not be taken up by oile gentleman. Tho other of the town wil - be for taking me to taskr, for introducing them,. This party was. intended for the purpose of letting some of them get Gi page: 90-91[View Page 90-91] 9'0 SILVER LAKE;' OR, acquainted with her, and to make as favorable an imipression on the fair visitor as possible. Excuse me, Thanky, while I engage Miss Sadie for the next dance," said Edward. ^ "Certainly," replied Thanky; and in the next moment Lenno and Thankful were standing in a set that was forming, while Edward and Sadie had X gone to the other end of the room. \ "What do you think of my friend, Miss H.?' . asked Thanky, ase she turned toward Mr. Desha. -A "She is the most charming woman that I have ever met: so intelligent, so independent, and so X:, entertaining in her conversation," replied Lenno, as he drew up his peculiarly erect form, and 4 looked toward Sadie at the other end of the room busily talking to Edward. Thanky smiled as she said, "I believe you are smitten, Mr. Desha." "If I were I fear it would prove of no avail, for I think she would not reciprocate; do you?" he said; but, at the same time, in his heart he had vanity enough to think, as he had often remarked of other ladies, that he could win any woman; still he dared not make this remark about Sadie, fearing it might r, reach her- ears; and as the conversation was with her intimate friend, he, of course, dared not inti- mate his persuasions. i "There is no tellng, Mr. Desha, what an earnest, frank and ardent suitor might do. He may always win; and I' know that he must prove all that is .1S TRE BELIE OF BAYOU LUTE. 91 noble, manly, honorable and worthy before he can win Sadie. She is a jewel of rareworth, and pos- sesses, in every respect, -all of those qualities which adorn a lovely woman." Here the conversation changed. The room was now filled with promenaders, who laughed and chat- ted merrily as they passed along. The band was pouring forth a beautiful march from Massaneillo. They passed on and on. and around until whirling waltzes commenced; then, in like manner, grateful quadrilles, then fancy dances, varsouviennes and polkas were all -in turn participated in. Mdany. an eye watched / graceful figure of Sadie as she glided aroun dfte room with Lenno Desha. That hero felt his pride flattered at the sensation he was exciting, as he took her beautifully tapered" hand in his to ballanoe in the dance. He danced with heir whenever he could; and the moment some other gentleman who bad supplanted him landed her to a seat, Lenno presented himself afresh; so not one set did ste miss. She could entertain a half-dozen at the'same. time, so comple to her powers of conversation. The young men. of the village were perfectly captivated with her, and crowded this evening to her shrine. of wit and in- tellect. She, for the moment, fattered, then passed on, with due compliments, to another. and, another, until all had participated in her attention, and asighed that the pleasures of the evening could not always last. Indeed, the good citizens pronounced page: 92-93[View Page 92-93] 92 SILVER LAKE; OR, this the most delightful party they had ever had in - the villaget as they had so much desired it should i be. There was one, however, who felt a little dis- : turbed, and whose heart's lulsations were a little : mt re irregular -than usual long after the hall was deserted, the music hushed, the harp unstrung, a ;: comiplete stillness reigling, and every light extin- guished. Did Lenno steal from his richly furnished . :: apartment, and wander up and down the long - varandah of his princely home, where there was no fair being to preside, and thought could -he only win Sadie, what a haDpy man he would be? : She was born to rule his mansion, as no one X elie could ever do; and to win her was now his : resolve. Thoughts of this nature flitted through his mind as he walked slowly back and forward ie upon the long balconies, where not a human sound or footfail was heard, nothing save the watchman's baton, with clicking stroke, upon the village pave- meot, while the pale moon rolled on tL rough light, vaporing clouds, and the night air wafted rich odors from the scented f'olage of the tall magnolias and -:i china trees, which torined a shady avenue leading from the half circular gate, with its granite columtns, arouid which had grown massive wreaths of Eng. lish ivy. Thus Lenno Desba rassed the remain. der of the night, until the pale light of Aurora was discerllible in the far eastern horizon, not until then did lhe lie down to catch a short morning's nap. We now turn to Mrs. Rovinlgton -and Minnie THE BELLE OF. BAYOU LUIE. 93' McLure. They did not participate in-the p!easures of this evening on account of Mrs, ;R. havi ng re- cently buried her ouly sister. ....Hter absence pr,* vented Counselor liarper from enjoying himself at, the hall as he otherwise might have done., He did not remain until the last hour, as he .usually did. The consequence was that the next day the, cry was. o on every tongue, "He was never known. to leave so early! What could be the,matter with Counselor Harper?" {"Can't tell," was the continued reply from old and young throughout the town, . CHAPTER XIII. THE LAND CLAIMS. The Court had now adjourned; the lawyers and judges were taking their departure for'their homes, to prepare for other cirCuits. Two, however, there were excepted, These were seen, after they -had taken their breakfast, going toward the clerkls office; and' entering there, in, a few moments were deeply engrossed min, turning: teis yellow pages of the old record bookse. Pretty soOB one of them stopped for a- moment,; andi perused the long leaf;' then looking- earnestly at: the page/ marks, then looking up at hIs partner, said: "lNow page: 94-95[View Page 94-95] " nILVER LAKE OR, g I have it. Yes, yes, here it is, as plain as day." Then he began reading aloud. The two took notes, and passed on to another record of a certa'n date. The first transaction gave an insight into the whole proceedings. - X Well, it is strange how men can practice such frauds in a community, and never be noticed nor X detected, from year to year," said the elder of the .:; counsellors, " until time brings such changes with the parties that perhaps half of them die and are oI forgotten." : It is, indeed, remarkable," replied the younger; - "for now, in this case of Mfrs. Rovington, I suppose : this matter would never have come to light had she not chanced to appear amongst us. But really I am glad, for I like to see such fellows exposed, although ' some of them have long since found their homes in another world, where they, no doubt, will meet a just reward for this foul play. As in many other * X transactions, the same parties have been very con- -; spicuous in dishonest procedure, this thing should be - brought to light even at this late day," continued the youngest of the two lawyers. "Well, in reading these records the matter is per- fectly plain; and as the records are made in 'Mrs. R.'s maiden name, and the deeds drawn up in her favor, there is no doubt as to her legal claims. As regards the lands, the parish courts are bound to decide in her favor, for the property was held by her husband before marriage, and immediately THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 95 passed from his hands after her. marriage without her signing away her rights, therefore she had. a dower that all the laws of the land- could not divest her of. And this is the point to which we must ] give our immediate, attentlon,': said the man of law. They felt satisfied that the case was altogether:as valid for their client-as they could have desired, so0 they closed the books ,and left the Recorder's office to report to Mrs. Rovington. . ; -n Well, madam, said Mr C , "all is favor- able, and we will proceed to get the, matter into ship-shape by the fall term, when your presence will again be required?', Mrs. Rovington listened with almost breathless interest, then replied: "I will give just one-half of my claims to you for securing the other half for me.- "Very well, madam," replied the elder lawyer; "we will accept your terms, and push the affair as fast as possible." An agreement was at once drawn up, and the signature of the. parties affixed, each taking a copy. Counselor Harper was very marked in his atten- tions to the fair young widow; and, as he knew that she would leave the' village early the next day, he, of course, spentthe last evening in the parlor in her society, aLd expressed his deepest regret at her departure, at the same time he presented a boquet of the rarest flowers of the clime, which he begged her to accept as more eloquent in the language of - l page: 96-97[View Page 96-97] 96 SILVER LAKE; OR, flora than all he could say in his own. So saying : in his dignified and exquisitely elegant manner, he humbly offered 'the nosegay. She colored deeply as she took the perfumed treasure and passed it to , her lips in acknowledgment of the pretty compli . :S ment offered. There was an eye not so blind but it ;- $ caught the deep blush and the confused look; a : brain that recalled the conjecture of her father as :- they journeyed to the village. They were Sadie's. She sat at the other end of the room, engaged in ,- conversation with Lenno Desha, who too was iplay y- ing the elegant to the much admired visitor And,- i - t Minnie and Thanky were, about the same time, well entertained by other guests, or were, still better, X entertaining them, until (Time not having mean- while intermitted his flight) the hocr for retiring arrived, and then the gentlemen rose to depart; with many regrets that the ladies could not remain another week in the village. But as they took their X leave, three of the most disengaged of these engage. ing gallants insisted on accompanying them back to Shadyside. The "good byes" were now kindly : spoken, and each visitor left the parlor. There the four ladies lingered to extinguish the lamnps, then : retired that they might refresh themselves by sleep- ing, and be prepared for an early start in the morn- i ing. . W;)iI THE BELLE OS BAYOU- LUIE. 97 CHAPTER XIV.. SHADYSIDE AND MAQGIE'S DEATH.. ..... As the golden sun shed his rays in the eastern world, and began to rise gradually above the tower- ing forest, the hostler-stood holding the" reins of the dark iron-gray horse, that proudly bowed his neck as he champed the shining bit in his teeth, working it to and fro. Presently came his fair rider, who, ere she mounted, took hold of the heavily-stitched pommel to see if the saddle felt quite tightly girted, then gave one light bound, and was comfortably seated, whilst her charger became a little restive, so eager was he to return to his green pastures at Shadyside. And now came Button, sleek and glossy as satin, switching his long, bushy tail, spite- fully lashing -off the Mustang flies which flew thickly in the atmosphere. (They are peculiar to this cli- mate in the spring season.) The dames were all soon firmly mounted, and in a few moments were joined by the three gentlemen who were to accom- pany them. They bowed and kissed their hands, to Thanky and Minnie, who stood watching the depar- ture. The travelers rode briskly through' the vil- lage, and soon the party 'were out of sight. Tshey- rode on in the delightful morning blreeze, thinkingl to arrive at Sbhadyside, long ere; the sun should tinge the West with his purple, golden a-nd greyish, glories. Not following them step by step, we will only state that they, did so, and found Maggie quite; page: 98-99[View Page 98-99] 98 SILVER LAKE; OR, confined by disease, and her physician constantly ate her bedside. Yet she was patient through all, and not a murmur escaped her lips. Sadie and Mrs. Rovington arriving) hastened to- - ward her bed, and kissed her white brow and burn- ! ing cheek. She looked up at them wistfully, and j they saw the sad change which one week had made, Xi yet her eyes were even more brilliant than ever. ;i Twilight had gathered around, and the dew made 3. the atmosphere perfectly balmy and delightful. In. :f deed, the breeze seemed rather fresh as it came into A g the quiet, sick room. Mrs. Holstein came in softly on tiptoe from her own room, where she had stolen - A for a moment, as she had lost a great deal of rest; i and now Mrs. Huntington and Mrs. Jus had come :r: to watch by the sufferer. The aunt went toward the window, and pushed it gently open, after closing the one near the bed. Maggie, for the first time, looked across the fields, as the moon shone brightly, and said, in a soft tone, as she gazed out on her own plantation, whose white cottages stood shaded X by the spreading china trees in front of the yard fence, with their leaves dancing in the cool breeze, "Yonder is my childhood's home, where I've passed many a joyous hour. I have a faint recollection of my parents; how my young mother lingered and died; and how, when she laid her thin white hand upon my little girlish head, and turned her deep blue eyes into mine, she looked toward heaven and . asked God to protect George and me, and to pre- THE BELLE OP BAYOU LUIE. . 99 pare her for a better world. Auntyv" continued she, "as I am soon to go to my mother, won't you be to brother George what I have always been? Poor boy, he will miss me, I know; but be will love you and -Sadie the more when I am gone.'"She talked in this strain for some half an hour, until her voice became very feeble. The doctor came near the bed and again felt her pulse, stepped: back and shook his head, then went softly out upon the gal- lery where there was a cluster of gentlemen con- versing in low tones. Amongst them was Colonel Huntington, who had accompanied Mrs. H. "Doctor, do you see any change" inquired Mr. Holstein. 'None for the better. She is only weaker. She can not last longer than the turn of the day to. morrow. "Is it possible, doctor," said Mr.' olstein -and Col. Huntington in the same breath. i Dear young girl! Is she conscious of her approaching end?" asked the Colonel. "'I think so,"' replied the doctor. "She seems perfectly calm on the subject of death. I noticed that when Mrs. Huntington -and Mrs. Rovington read a part of the service of the Church, she joined in some parts of it with considerable earnestness and devotion." -' I guess Maggie is quite prepared," said her uncle. {'She has long since been very zealous in the Christian cause. Indeed, her life'has been one *- page: 100-101[View Page 100-101] 1'00 SILVER LAKE; OR, RI of continued piety and holiness; and I noticed that in the whole season of Lent she was even more A devout than usual, and would ofcen say, "I must go to -my church. 1 can not stay away, perhaps in ; : another season I may be deprived of this great privilege." George would try to direct her mind : from those thoughts, but in vain; go she must; and at her request he always was ready to accompany X her on each appointed day." . "How glad I am that she has lived a life so near to God,' said Col. Huntington. "Maggie was put :. on earth to stay but a short time, as I have always -ok said, ' For those whom the gods love die early.'" : - "Too true," said Dr. Harper, as he rose to go once more to the room of his dying young patient; ::; and as he approached the bedside, he placed his -i hand about the region of the heart, and then upon the fluttering pulse, whose irregular vibrations gave ? X warning of her approaching dissolution. As the gentlemen could do no good, they had been shown to their rooms up stairs for the night, while Mr. Holstein and the doctor kept watch with -!e Mrs. Huntington and Mrs. Jus, who sat by, con- f^ stantly bathing her lips with wine and water, until X the grey dawn began to show a faint gleam in the '?X East. Then the commotion about the sick room told to the sad family that poor Maggie-had grown: very much worse, and that the brittle thread of life was just ready to snap. George, with aching heart and gushing eyes, stood beside the bed. THE BULLE OF BAYOU LUIE. " He saw the gradual glassiness steal over the liquid .eye of violet blue. Those sweet orbs moved no more, but their last beam was prned heavenward, never again to look to earthly and fading things. George, for the last time, kissed hi' sister Maggie's smooth cheek, fast growing coid and rigid as marble, though transparently clear. The clustering waves of, hair that stood on her brow made her look too beautiful for earth, too like the angel she was turning to.' They saw the change that had passed over her in the last hour; her breathing short, her pulses fluttering, her eyes fixed, glazing, and a white filhn gathering over them. Tihe doctor turned froin her for the, last time, anl whis- pered to rs. Rlovington, "'She is gone, gone!" In the next moment a heavy sigh escaped her lips, and not a muscle moved or seemed to. relax; her eyes sweetly and calmly closed,- as though in a gentle gleep; her chest heaved not; her breatlihing was forever hushed, and the gentle spirit 1}asscd forever to its home. MAlaggie Keiper was no more. The very atmosphere seemed to sigh with the weep- ing ones as the sun sank behind its golden horizon. All who were in the house shed many a tear to the memory Of the dear departed girl. Those w\ro had accompanied Sadie took their leave. Fricnc(s came to look upon her for the last time, and place about *her fleshly gathered blossoms, as she l;iy calmly resting fi'om the painasof life, so holy, re serene in death. Her body, after three days, was borne to page: 102-103[View Page 102-103] 1.02 SILVER LAKE; OR, its lonely home in the family burying ground within - X a beautiful glade just in the edge of the pines, where X a white slab marked her parents' resting place. There she had placed many a fresh flower, and plucked away the grass that had wont to grow there. Her removal saddened the family. Sadie and so George felt it very deeply; and as Mrs. Rovington X would soon quit them, her going would make them :: still more desolate. Mrs. Huntington and the Colo- nol only were left to give them comfort by their ? frequent visits to Shadyside. . ! They were, however, making preparations to - leave the Luie with Clara, whose health they feared : was growing delicate. Her physician recommended : ? a changer of climate, and, after due consideration, :' Mrs. Hiumltitgton and the Colonel agreed to take her -2 to the West, where he had a sister residing at ? P--, in a lovely village in Kentucky. At this place there was a very excellent young ladies' semi- AI: nary, at which she could remain until her studies ?j were finlibhed and health restored, if such should be heaven' s pleasure; t' Zgg, THE BELLE OFV BAYOU LUIE. 103 CHAPTER XV. Cao. HUNTINGTON AND FAMLY IN NEW OLMEANS Mrs. Huntington gave-her seamstress instructions to occupy every hour of her time in getting them ready for the trip, and the Colonel made his arrange- ments for the journey at the appointed time. As the services of Marsha and Minta were indispensa- ble, they, too, had to add largely to their wardrobe, for which their good mistress supplied them with every article necessary to make them comfortable during their long journey. And now old Hy busied himself to get some of his mistress' choice shrubbery ready, which she in- tended to take to the Colonel's sister. Whereupon that worthy thus bespoke Phil: -As dese pots ob- flowers is gwino., I 'speck how, Phil, you had better hope me fetch dem, wid dese tings, to de landin'." So saying he stooped down to dig the earth from around a pure white Cape jassamine, which was bending with buds and blossoms. Having raised the pot, he and Phil made it ready with a number of other plants, japonicas, a variety of flourishing roses, the glorie de France, and the double scarlet cabbage rose, the most fragrant and rare of the race. The old gardener placed them securely on his barrow, and wheeled away to the storehouse on the Luie, closing the door that they might be safe for the night. page: 104-105[View Page 104-105] 104 SILVER LAKE , I 0St- Very early the next morning the plantation was , in lively motion; black and white were moving around as busy as beos. The trunks and baggage had all been taken to the landing; the travelers had . on their shawls, bonnets and hats, and were taking - leave of those whom they would leave at the planta. tion. Mhrs. Iluntington, Clar,. and the Colonel now started toward the landing, as the cannon of the - Southern Belle had long since been heard. Pres- - ontly she was in sight of the mansion. .lhe boat rounded to, and in the twinkling of an eye the pan f- senuers wero aboard -with their b aggage. The steamer rapidly pushed out, and, like a thing of air, whizzed along easy and grace(ful, althouglt she had ,:! her full compliment of freight and ptssengcers : They moved around to different parts of the boat, i as is the custom, to watch the seonery and pros. pect. - g hleantime sumptuous preparations wero goillg on- in the boat for evely luxury that the appetite re- quired. All day the table stood, bounttifilly sup- plied with refreshments. But suplper camne, and : was followed in haste, after which all retired to "'H rest. , The passengers had, one by one, dispersed from the deckq to their staterooms, and *Mrs. I. had given Marshab and Minta instructions for the mornr ing's attendance; to get firom their muaster's trun - such and such garments; friom Clara's andri her own other things, too long or too mysterious for enume: TIRE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 105 ration. These orders received, they gently closed the stateroom door, and went to their own room. No sooner had Minta laid herself upon her berth than she was quietly sleeping. But Marsha felt some fear. She lay on her bed, but sleep did not visit her eyes. She trembled at every strange noise, until she imagined that some terrible catas- trophe was happening. A dreadful time dlij the poor old negress spend. All night she was wftch- ing for danger, which did not make its appearance; and not until she saw a streak in the far East did she close her peepers. But to ittle purpose. Very soon she was awakened by the loud ringing of the bell sounding for the cabin' boys to begin to make ready for breakfast. Marsha languidly roused h6r- self from her drowsy position, and slowly went toward the pantry, after calling to Minta to go and bring her mistress a cup of coffee. This she was accustomed to take; a habit so fixed with Mrs. tHuntington that she could not dispense with it. The boat had made fine speed, as she was now ringing her bell and rounding to at Lafayette to cleanse up for quarantine inspection. There all , cattle were taken off, and the boat was thoroughly washed in every part of it, from hurricane deck to the lower deck. And now her steam was put on again to go into the port of New Orleans. In the meantime the Colqpel gave instructions to Marsha and Minta to have the baggage tightly strapped, in order that as soon as they reached H page: 106-107[View Page 106-107] 106 SI6VER tAXE; OA) = the levee they might be in readiness for transpor : tation to the St. Charles Hotel. In a few moments , the bell rang, and the passengers began to rush : upon deck to take a view of the city, while others ' were greeting welcome friends as they came aboard : to meet those they loved and were expecting down - on the boat. The cab drivers and coachmen stood, : :5 whip in hand, bawling into the ears of every passen- ger, "Gentlemen, will you have a coach for the St. Charles?-a t oach for the St. Charles, gentlemnen? ; Who will have a coach--only two dollar,?" . ,: "Ho!" said the Colonel to one of the d'ivers who / stood latiently waiting for some gentleman that might chance to call him. The jehu quickly caught ::il the Colonel's summons, and in a moment drove to a convenient place that he might get the baggage : after opening the door and letting down the step. : The gallant captain offered Mrs. Huntington his arm, that he might assist the Colonel, who was \ holdintg his daughter by the hand and looking arounld to see that the servants were provided for. They were soon all seated, and the Colonel gave the driver instructions to take them to the door of the ladlies' entrance. This was done; and then the : Colonel, getting out, went to the office to see if he coulld )rocure rooms, while Airs. H. and Cdara re- mained in the carriage.' The clerk informed him thcy were full to overflowing with planters, their wives and families; but as some would embark for the North and East, many for the West, and some TCIE BVtLE 6? BAYOt tUIE. o07 for Biloxi and Pass Christian to spend the summer, they would most assuredly try to make room for the Colonel. And soon the ladies alighted from the carriage, and were making their way up the long flight of stairs, winding around and around, until the heads of the two negresses spun about. At length they arrived at the very elegant apartments allotted d them. They wert filled with everything that heart could wish. Their -ba(gga,(e was soon brou ght- and placed inthe dressing closet which belongred to their suite of rooms. They made their toilets for breakk fast, for they had declined taking breakfast, on the boat in order to save their appetite for a more sumptuous -one at the St. Charles. They had hardly adjusted themselves before the great gongr sounded. The party descended and entered the spacious saloon; the Culonel Attired in a perfect suit of pure white linen, Mrs. Huntington in a French 'lawn, elaborately braided with black, anid Clara tastefully dressed in a delicate peach-blow muslin, very becom- ing to her fair cornmlexion and simple, girlish ap- pearance. They seated themselves at one of the lar:re bay windows to look odt at the passers by, antid t thosb who were entering the parlors to await the open- ing of the breakfast rnone e A breakfast at this far famed-hotel was a thing of state as well as Iuxury, and attended with proper preliminaries of expecta- tion. The guests began to gather thickly' in the parlors, every sociable, divan, ottoman and chair page: 108-109[View Page 108-109] 108 SILVER LAKE; OR, - was occupied, and, indeed, many gentlemen stood : chatting with the ladies in groups around the room} - and even a number remainpd in the hall, on the out- side, almost blocking up the entrance, so that it became a downright jam and squeeze. : "What can this mean?" asked Mrs. Huntington of the Colonel, who looked quite amazed at the : unusual crowd awaiting bre'akfast. He had never seen the rooms so filled on any ordinary occasion. : "Indeed, sir," courteously replied a very coquet- tish young Spanish girl, who' was seated near them, and had overheard the conversation between Mrs. 1i. and her husband, "this is no ordinary occasion ; at the St. Charles, but one of much interest, as we have for guests the hilghly gifted Madame Roberta LeVert and daughter. They will be in very soon - now, and then adjourn to the breakfast room. It is so all the time, and at every Ineal. She attracts so much attention with us in the city that we can not .. have enough of her. She has already been here a fortnight, and her admirers are as enthusiastic about ?, her as ever. She certainly deserves it all. Never was there a woman who had more attractive man- ners than she. A very remarkable woman is she, indeed," continued Juanita Castino. ' 'Madame has truly very rare attainments. Is : she really here?" asked the Colonel of the young lady who was his informant. i' We have the happi- X; ness of her acquaintance. Mrs. Huntington and I X have known her for years, and shall be very much : THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 109 ' / gratified at meeting with her so unexpectedly. And so, dear, we will be truly fortunate, will we not, at meeting one whom you admire so much for her gifted productions, as well as for her rare and excel- lent social qualities?" So saying he turned and smiled very pleasantly at his wife, addressing her with all th'e courtesy that distinguishes a true Southern gentleman. The graceful wife bowed to her gallant husband's inquiries., CHAPTER XVI. THE MEXICAN MAIDEN. "Yet I doubt, sir, whether you will have even an opportunity to speak with her, as her friends crowd so much upon her in constant conversation, and standing all the while that she is in the parlor. She is so much caressed that I fear they will kill her with attention, so ,nuch do they court her society. Did I understand the name you men- tioned a few moments ago? Was it Huntington?" asked the young lady, looking up in the Colonel's face inquiringly. CIt is," replied the Colonel. "Not Col. Huntington and Mrs: Huntington, my mamma's dearest friends? That can not be; they were of Silver Lake or Bayou Luie. page: 110-111[View Page 110-111] "O SILVER LAKE; OR, "Yes," said the Colonel, "the very same. And may I ask where we can have had the happiness of :t your mamma's acquaintahce?" "You doubtless remember your voyage from Tampico to this city. I was then a very small 7 child; but there is a familiar expression in each of- your faces like the remembrance of faces seen in a dream, and as though I had known you. It seems fresher and fresher the longer I am speaking with. : you, and recall hours of the happy past. Can it, can it be, that I meet those loved friends of mam- ma? It is too much happiness for me ever to hatveo .i expected. Indeed, I can not restrain my girlish ':: tears of joy; they will flow without my permission," she said, drawing her handkerchief from her pocket ::S and wiping the tear! that stole down her youthful :? cheeek. "Tell us, dear," said Mrs. Huntington, in her - tender, soothing tone, whose heart was by this time . filled with sympathy toward the fair young speaker, ' tell us something more of yourselves* - -i "Previous to the voyage to which I alluded, my ! mother had buried papa, and was then returning to : her friends in the Western States with her two little Mexican children, who were natives of Tampico. Not until we reached this city did we separate from ! yourself and the Colonel. A very strong attach- .:; ment sprang up between mamma and her amiable ? traveling companion. She, I believe, met you re- e peatedly afterward. Indeed, all her life after she ::4 THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE,. 1ll frequently spoke of you. My little brother died very young, and not un til then did mamma marry the second time. When very young I was sent off to school, and there remained until they considered me ready to enter society. But poor mamma lost her health, and just one year ago was committed'to her last place of earthly rest, leaving me with my stepfather alone. He is very kind, and quite as exacting as kind,"? she continued. In saying this her animated face beamed with unusual intellect; for when in conversation, though not particularly marked with that Iberian beauty by which the poets have been struck, nor of that regularity of features which characterizes the Spanish maid, her traits were regular enough to suit her style of rounded and full countenance, and a mouth filled with the most splendid teeth that one can imagine. But that forehead, where, music and poetry stood promi- nent, made-he grace of her visage. To hbighten its effect, she wore her very dark hair combed back from her brow and dressed in a broad Grecian twist. and Madonna braid, that formed a large coil, very becoming. to her cast of. lineaments. Her cheek, was very smooth, and just enough tinged with the glow of her native clime to give a richness to her dark complexion, and a peculiar brightness to her, lustrous eyes. Mrs. Ituntington and the Colonel were delighted to meet Juanita, and gave her pressing in-vitationsA page: 112-113[View Page 112-113] "2 SILVER LAKE; OR, X to join them on several excursions which they had -:: planned -for their stay in the city, -ill The boll rang for breakfast, and the group of : ladies and gentlemen began to rise to attend the : summons, when Madame LeVert. and daughter en- tered. On their doing so, the crowd commenced moving around to offer, in succesion, their kind and frank salutations of the morning. These received, : they turned toward the breakfast room, and the parlors were in a very few moments perfectly deserted. "I think she has changed very little, Colonel,'7 said Mrs. Huntington, as they walked behind the :. crowd, who pushed along to get seats as near her as possible. Juanita passed them and gave them a gracet'ul recognition as she took her seat at the table. The elderly gentleman who accompanied observed her bow and smile, watched them very earnestly, and glanced at the Colonel a lot k of inquiry, as they sat on the opposite side consid- :!I erablv below them. "Who are those people you were bowing to opposite?" asked the stepfather, in rather a sar- castic manner. "Did you know them before this J morning? You should not be so familiar with strangers," said he,'looking again at the Colonel with rather a rude stare. sWhy, pa, that is Colonel Huntington and his IS lady, mamma's old friends, with whom we traveled from Tampico?" ' THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 113 "It matters not about that,' said the callous old man; that was a long time ago, and there is no need of renewing an acquaintance so far fetched. I presume they are only transient in the city, and, perhaps, you will never meet them again; so, upon , the whole, I do not think you need put yourself out of the way to-run after them." "But, pa, you certainly do not remember how often dear mamma has spoken of Col. Huntington's family, from Bayou Luie, those estimable friends." "I admit I have heard her speak of them, but you a will incur my displeasure by exercising this. pro- pensity you have for making the acquaintance of those you have chanced to meet here in the hotel. And mark my words," he emphatically said, in his surly tone, and rather stretching his authority over the young, unprotected -being with whom he was speaking, it is altogether unnecessary for you to persist in this course you have commcnced with; therefore, Juanita; I desire that you desist from it." By this time Colonel and Mrs. Huntington had recognized NMadame LeVert as they sat at table. The man with the white head winced his contracted countenance, and began to look at his bill of fare, which he had not thought of before;' but he was silent throughout the rtost of the meal;. and when his daughter had partaken of a very light breakfast, they rose, left the room, and walked on toward the parlors, he instructed her to go to her room, and left her alone. She obeyed her stepfather's com- i page: 114-115[View Page 114-115] "4 SILVER LAKE; OR, . X mands, as she knew too well it must be done, or X! there would be trouble in store for her, and, per- haps, hanrsh treatment if she failed. eI Not longr afterward a servant stood at the door of ^ Juanlta's room, bearing Mrs. Huntington's compli. ments, and a request that she would be ready to ,f drive on the shell road with them. Sad as she felt : at the answer she was compelled to return, she - hurriedly penned her regrets at not being able to comply with her engagement. The servant bowed as he held a small card receiver for the apolo(gy, and withdrew to Col. Hurntingrton's rooms to deliver it;. In a few moments a finely equipped carriage ?f stood before the door, and the party proceeded to : seftt themselves, and were soon rolling rapidly to- X ward that favorite drive upon the shell road leading : a toward Lake Ponchartrain. Madame LeVert chat- :i ted in her vivacious manner, and was so particularly entertaining as they rode on that the time flow un- i i heeded until the day was far consumed, and the - Colonel at last remembered that he had a three o'clock engagement with a friend, and Mrs. H. and Clara also had certain calls to make essential to the fitting of some dresses to the late Parisian cut, and the execution of several bonnets and hats, which the creative hand of some mighty milliner was to call into a delightful existence, made up entirely of silk, roses and ribbons, consequently Miss Casting could see them no more. And this was only one of the many instances in her young life where her path THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. U5 was anything -but-one over those flowers amidst which, ah! white-headed old man! it was so easy, and should have been so delightful, to lead or send the gay steps of innocent youth and beauty. CHAPTER XVII, ON BOARD THE STEAMER ECLIPSE ON THE MSSISSIPPI. The- time had soon arrived for the Colonel and his family to proceed on their journey, so we go with them on board the proud steamer Eclipse,% bound for Lia Belle Riviere." Her stearn was up; her decks were crowded with passengers; many of these had taken staterooms for three weeks in ad- vance of her arrival in part, so popular was she with all, her captain, her officers, her Very crew. Ladies, gentlemen, children, servants and baggage, were thronging over her side, upon her decks and in her cabins. All was alive with eagerness and bustle. By and by the air of hurry changed to one of regret. Many now seemned to he taking leave of their friends, who were leaving themfor p'easure or safety. Such looked as though they remained be- hind sorrowfully, and in some fear of not only the coming hot months, but of cholera and yellow fever. The bell for starting rang loudly, and the people page: 116-117[View Page 116-117] "6 SILVER LAKE; OR, still came, some almost breathless, having hurried ; for fear of being left. At last the final signal of X departure was sounded, and the mighty marine :: palaca began to move slowly upon her majestic ^A: wheels, turning carefully her bow upward to the X stream, then suddenly pushing into the broad cur- rent, swept over the dark waves of the Father of 'H Waters, belching forth her curling steam aind smoke in immense jets from her towering boilers high into s the atmosphere, until they seemed lost and evapo- :s rated in the distance. . They had now got under way, and the admiring : passengers began to disperse from the guards and deck to look after their rooms and baggage, soon , adjourning to the cabins, and somo of the gentle- men to the social hall to have a smoke. On another ;i side the ladies soon began to got familiar, to talk X together in groups, and to chat very amicably in the I; cabins, where they met many old friends. Among the rest our party-had now gone into the ladies' cabin, and were comfortably seated. They made themselves quite at home, for they had traveled ;r much, and knew how to pass off the time pleas- antly. ; Much to their satisfaction they presently discov- ered amnong the passengers Mrs. Rovinrton and her nephew, Mr. Logan. He, however, was a stranger to them, as he had not accompanied his aunt in her late trip to Bayou Luie. He was then absent in Havana, wher he h ad passed the winter for his i' 4i THE BEtrE 0o SAYOU ttIE. t17 health, which being much restored he had now returned to join his aunt for the summer. Colonel and Mrs. Huntington became very much interested in their new made friend. Her intellecwt and the charms of her conversation were singularly attractive, but only in proportion to the graces of her person and the variety, of her accomplishments. It was difficult to be insensible to the attractions that attended her. Indeed, every passenger looked with admiration -upon her as she either sat or passed along, or walked upon the deck with Mrs, Huntington and other ladies. But while she thus drew upon lter all eyes, there was one whose gaze was fixed upon her in silent wonder. - He did not seem to mix with the other passengers, but held himself aloof, while wherever she went the same look was fastened upon her, until it almost became an annoyance. Yet how could she feel indignant? There was no disrespect in that gaze; it appeared rather one of deep inter- est, such as was-almost unaccountable to himself. Three days went by on this pleasant steamer, They had passed the beautiful coast, and Clara had an opportunity of seeing the college and the Red Church, Dulzeeka's present home. CShe was at the moment with her papa and MAr. Logan upon the deck, and was looking through her telescope, as it happened, just when the boys were having their hour of recess, and she recognized the familiar face of Dulzeeka. At the sight of it she sighed for the ' IlkrVVL J1 1LiUr V P page: 118-119[View Page 118-119] 1[18 SiLaES f; SAK tE, 61{ , past happy days upon the Silver Lake, wished that- she could have stayed with Estelle, and not have : been sent so far to school. But, like every other, child, she did not dwell long upon the past, but -?4 looked to the future, and talked merrily to her papa and Mr. Logan, who took her down into the ladies' ! I cabin, where her mamma and Mrs. Rovington were enated in conversation. There several other ladies ^- had joined them, and as Mr. Logan did not stop in the social hall to smoke with Col. Huntington, he i passed on with Clara into the cabin. ' :: Meantime, as the Colonel sat enjoying his fine At Spanish cigar, the my sterious stranger ventured to : address him in a social manner. ;H Our boat has had quite a safe and speedy trip go far, sir," he said. "Quitc so, sirs" replied the Coloincl, bowing politely. "I think she will be apt to reach her destination to-morrow if she continues to run at the rate she has been traveling, How gracefully' she rides over these waves I Iter structure is fine, her ornaments very tastefully arranged, and not one ::: convenience could add to her comfort. The captain ' is a gentleman, and so are all her officers and crew-; -and, to use a common phrase, they are gentlemen of ' the very first water." X The conversation was now interrupted by thb appearance of Mr. Logan, and the Colonel, look- ing into the fac:e of the stranger, said, in a friendely ttS iELVlE OF BAYOU tUIE, " way, 'Sir, if you will be kind enough to favor ine wiih yoaur name, I will introduce you to Mr. Logan." "Thank you,' replied the stranggqr, with all my heart; my name is Laverde, Antonio Laverde)' and " he bowed politely as he spoke. CHAPTE Rl XVIII. STRANGE MEETING ON PtHE BOAT. The introducjion given,v a lively conv&satioti sprang up between the three. Of course some of the politics of the day were discussed, and the opin- ion of each was advanced. The conversation of the } stranger soon showed thorough educawtion and great general information. He had traveled much; and greatly to his advantage, and was able admirably to describe friom observation the many countries and the different parts o'f Europe which he had visited i the craggty highlands of Scotland, the towering Alps, the romantic Rhine, and the sunny vales of Spain and France. Then he spoke of Italy, that far-famed land of the arts, and of the seven hilled city of Rome. But at lmention of the last he 1)aused a moment in deep Lhought, as though some painful recollection had flashed over his mind, and awak. ened feelingrs which overcame him. Suddenly he Was as silent as death. \ .1 page: 120-121[View Page 120-121] 120 SILVER LAKE,; OR, To call him back from this abstraction, Alonzo Logan said: "'Speaking of Rome, Mr. Laverde, reminds me of my grandfather's and aunt's tour throug(h Europe. Some years ago my grandfather was an invalid in consumption. His physician ad- vised him to try the balmy air of Italy. He did so; 5 : but, untfortunately, the disease was deep seated, and soon after reaching Paris he expired, leaving my aunt thlero under the protection of Dr. Duval and X his wife, who had accompanied them." "And did your aunt return to America imnmcdi- ately," inquired Col. Huntington, who hall become - interested in the conversation. - {' No, sir, replied Alonzo; "circumstances pre- venteo her return for a considerable time. They i were incidents- of a rather interesting character:" ? Antonio looked anxiously into the face of Alonzo for he thought a mystery was now about to disclose : itself. But just as the conversation was about to be resumed Clara approached. followed by Minta, with a request that Colonel Huntington and Mr. Logan would join the ladies in a promenade on deck. The gentlemen thereupon separated, with a promise from ? Mr. Laverde that after tea he would go into the ladies' cabin and be introduced. The Eclipse was now in sigaht of Cairo, where the clear Ohio mixes its Nwaters, and consigns its quiet X bosom to the dark rolling-MAississippi. It is, at least in magnitude, a "meeting of waters," before which i Moore's fades away; but there is not much to attract ql THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 121 the traveler, except that he gazes upon the place which Charles Dickens ridicules, as a specimen of our American scenery; while, we, .as proud natives, laughed at the idea that a foreigner should come from the dismal fogs of London and not appreciate the magnificent scenery of America. And now the boat had entered the Ohio, and was fast moving on the gently flowing stream, occasion- ally meeting other steamers and flathoats floating on their way. Each party retired to make their toilet for tea. Presently the bell rang, and the polite captain advanced toward the ladies' cabin, and invited them to the table. All this while An- tonio sat at the farther end of the gentlemen's cabin perfectly wrapped in thought, as the ladies, one by one, drew near the supper table. Then came the Colonel and Mrs. Huntington, then Alonzo and his aunt. Their seats were at the extreme end of the table, and gave Antonio an opportunity to scan closely Mrs. Rovington's- face. Some slight change had taken place in it; the deep pink had left her cheek, and there was a more thoughtful expression on her countenance. "Bat," said he, aloud, " that can not be; she could not be here. 'Tis nonsense, 'tis madness,. tis vanity for me to indulge in this wild fancy. It is not the same. How can it be? Long ago she was the bride of another in a strange land, and there she must still be. Why should I allow myself to dwell on the hope? Alas! ye dreams of the pact, lie still al . -! page: 122-123[View Page 122-123] 122 81LVER LAKE; OR, ! and slumber.! Do not stir up my frenzied soul; I e can not -bear it as once I did! No, no. ye must- not ,disturb me Know, for it is vain; and why indulge it? Let me dispel it from my mind; it is foolish in the extreme. I will go into the cabin to-night and convince myself of this folly, this absurdity, this nonensense. These thoughts passed hurriedly through Antonio's mind as the passengers sat at table partaking of the luxurious ? 'supl-er, during which many were the pleasant jests that passed around the bosard between the captain and his sociable passengers. Col. Huntington, in- deed, inspired with sociability all with whomi he came into contact, and prepossessed every body in his favor. : After tea the passengers retired from the table to different parts of the boat. / Antonio walked toward the ladies' cabin rather timidly until he caught the eye of Col. Huntingtonu, who, however, quickly discovered him, rose to meet him, and conducted him to Mrs. Huntington and Mrs. Rovington, and introduced him. They bowed; and, strange to say, there appeared a confusion on the face of both Mrs. Rovington and Antonio. For this, on the part of Mrs. Rovington, Mrs. Hunting- ton accounted from the fact that Mr. Lavcrde had seemed so earnestly to look after her as she passed to different parts of the boat; but to relieve this on the p/art of both, she addressed her conversation to him on some casual sulject, and thus readily re. moved the embarraement of each. VI119 BEItE OF )tOX ItUIEr lu3 Tortunately there was just at this moment an- 'Other boat passing downward, and all rushed to the guards to enjoy a view of her as she shot by. This afforded Antonioe an opportunity to speak to Mrs. Rovington, as, of course,'the Colon6l left hMi in charge of the Widow ahile rhe and fMrs. Bunting. ton walked on in front, of them, and Mr. Logan took 'Clara by the hand, holding her firmly lest there should be any jarring or rocking of the boat from the waves raised by the other. The Eclipse, how- 'ever, was so much the superior in sie'. that the impression was scarcely perceptible. "Will you be seated, ladies?" said the 'Colonel :as he drew uap some chairs, at the same time hanoi ing one to Mr. Laverde and taking a seat by Mrs. Huntington, Clara and Alonzo near the wheelhouse. The .three grown persons soon engaged in lively 'conversatibn, and the Colonel began some of his spicy jokes, while Alonzo and Mrs. Huntington laughed until the othier party wondered what could have caused such merriment. Mrs. Rovington listened intently as Mr. .Laverde narrated his travels through different portions of Europe, and told her, too, how very like she was to a friend: he had met some ten years before whaen'he was a light-hearted young man, all joyous and sunny, with nfo lowering cloud, bift. all bright^Bs before him. , And when :I met you just nowi' "Aid he, I! imagined I had met the satre fair 'being *wihomI havebeen: roamniih the wid worid to fiVhi x ; " *t page: 124-125[View Page 124-125] 124 SILVER LAKE; OR, sV When and where, Mr. Laverde, did you meet this mysterious creature?" asked Mrs. Rovington, showing some little confusion and embarrasment at the candid way in which Mr. Laverde had been speaking to her. t Truly, you may term her mysterious, as she I:. flitted from me like a fairy vision, such as I only see in my dreams. It was in Rome we met, and in Rome she vanished fr om me." Here he sighed deeply, and was for a moment silent. X And now hei heart beat wildly. She, too, thought of the past; but none the more did she allude to it, i while in her bosom were stirred up long-faded memr - eries. She could not refer to them, for they brought X back deep sorrow with their return. But still she whispered to herself, "Do not come back fresh to me! I shall not allow myself to dream of them now "No, no, she thought, as Antonio continued to talk, while she only occasionally heard a word that fell from his lips. She was too busy with her own thoughts to listen to any one else, and though feeling anxious to hear more, yet not willing to reveal what she knew. "But," she said, rather i avoiding to speak more of this painful subject, " as the air is rather damp, Mr. Laverde, I must ask you to excuse me. The evening is far advanced; I must ; withdraw to the cabin. I see my friends have al- ready gone in." "Certainly," replied Antonio; ("only permit me to ask you one question before parting. It will be a ! THE BELLE OP BAYOU A UIE. 125 source of very great gratification to me, if you will -allow me." ,And what is it you fain would askS" inquired Mrs. Rovington. "' But will you answer me, without hesitation?" ' Perhaps so," she replied; " if it fs in m power to do so, I mean." "{ Oh, madam! it is altogether in your power, and altogether fair, and easily answered," said Antonio. "TL'hen, on my honor, aE a lady, I will, and will correctly," she said. "Well, were you ever in Europe, and please tell' me in what year?" "Now, if you will first answer my queries, then I will be more at liberty to answer yours,' replied Mrs. Rovington. I can not, just now, explain myself;' but if the future is propitious I will," answered Antonio. This confused Mrs. Rovington somewhat, and she colored deeply. Then she said, "I have been in Europe; but those remembrances I do not like to think of," so she rose to depart. "But please stay one second longer, and say if this subject can ever be resumed. Shall I ever hope to speak with you again?" 't Perhaps," she replied, "at some other time.?' i"Then say," replied Antonio, " that it shall :be at no distant day. Let me, speak with you -again, anid say at what time. Kind lady, will you allow me to call upon you, after we reach your place of dostina- page: 126-127[View Page 126-127] 1,26 8IIVER. B&AKE i O; tion? We reach the city of L. this evening, an@X this is our last evening upon this boat." i ( Of course,' will be pleased to have you call -i and Alonzo will give you our address and residence. So I bid you good night, Mr.- La Verde." She then bowed, and he withdrew to his state-room, in the gentlemen's cabin, and she to her own, each think- ing over the conversation of the evening. But sleep did not visit Antonio; he was restless and, uneasy, ::X and the night wore away, as is usual to those who are anxious about whatever they are in pursuit of; J let that object be great or small. i X To the joy of all of the passengers and crew, the boat had reached in safety the landing of Portland, below thei falls of the Ohio, and was working off her steam, for, as she could neither pass the falls or through the caLal, she must, perforce, unload her cargo here, CHAPTER XIX. THEIR ARRIVAL IN KENTUCKY. Day had dawned, and all was hurry, stir and bus- tle. All were preparing for their respective homes; some taking the morning mail line, and others the ears for the interior, till; at length, the spaeious boat was almost deserted by the gay crowd which had filled her a few hours before. The Colonel and family took leave of Mrs. lRving- THE BELLE .-OF BAYOUT UIE. 127 ton and Alonzo, with the promise that they wo"uld meet again at Drennon Springstin two morfhs: ; and Mr. La Verde took leave of them to remain a few days in Louisville, whence he would proceed to Washington City; but promised,: also, to meet the same party at the springs at the specified time. The Colonel, his family and servants proceeded on their journey in the cars to the village of P. There they found Mr. Evard) surroundedi by. every thing that wealth could procure, -and living in fine style, but not so luxuriously as they lived on Silver Lake. Clara was perfectly delighted on her arrival at' her aunt's, and with the beautiful village., It afforded her many new objects of interest. Being situated upon a solid rock, surrounded by cedar hills, and at the junction of two rippling streams of water, clear and glassy, in which myriads of fish dart and dance through the waves as they flow over a rockyanrid pebbly bottom; the water, rushing and pouring in foaming eddies over the falls, roaring loudly, while the ivy-bound banks and cliffs re-echo the - thunder- ing stream. Itis a picturesque and romantic spot, in calm contrast with which looks down u)pon it the village green, the play-ground of the children, the walk for lovers, the military parade, where, beneath the tall sycamores, spreading beeches, and twining wild vines, queens of May were, crowned, and rhany a dance and pastime- circled in the sumnmerhade., Mr. Evard had three children-two daughters and one son. Miss Prue, the eldest, had4seen her twenty! , page: 128-129[View Page 128-129] 128 SrLVER LAKE; OR), fifth summer. Having had a tender disappointment in her youth, she had adopted a life of single bless- edness. I will not assert that it was through choice, but rather the force of circumstances. She had lived now to suspect that any gentleman who proposed, only wished to make her his bride for her interest in her father's large estate. Consequently, she had : grown a little suspicious when one of them showed ( ; an inclination to be attentive. Alas, Miss Prue! H thy very name is associated with the idea of an old maid!-in my mind, even now, as I speak of her; ! of her many peculiarities, and especially her display A of her taste in her dress. She invariably selected something that had her all-prevailing color-straw. Year in and year out her bonnet was trimmed with ! straw or corn color. Indeed, I shall never be able to imagine again a predestinate follower of Diana, without figuring her) in my mind, with this inter- minable and ever present corn-color, or Miss Prue's corn-colored Levantine, trimmed with broad folds of black velvet, and her corn-colored bonnet to match it; making her look like a full blown sunflower, or a harvest field. It is true that the color generally be- comes a brunette complexion, and this Miss Prue possessed; but then the idea of her never varying her hue, but always clinging to insipid tint! Now that her favorite uncle had come, of course he did not, know her great propensity forever to wear but that one wheat-stack shade; therefore, in his selec- tion of a handsome moire silk, he must needs get [ THE BELLE OP BAAYOU 'TUIE. 129 a present for her a pearl-colored one, as a handsome evening dress, and for the younger sister, Eveleen, a deep rose cola ;, both which Mrs. tluntlngton con- sidered very elegant taste in her husband ; and she, of course, congratulated him on the prospect that the young ladies surely would be delighted with their, uncle's exquisite choice. Unavoidably, the Colonel felt gratified: his wife's judgment was enough to decide the matter. And now, one whole day had passed, in such con- versation as the long absence of friends suggests. Late in the evening, when they had all risen to retire, Clara reminded her mamma of the presents, stored away for her new cousins; and in a few mo. ments Marsha was instructed to go to her mistress' trunk and get those two packages, and bring them. The servant obeyed, and brought-the parcels to her mistress, who proceeded to present them to the young ladies.: These, in a state of such ecstacy as women always feel at expected finery, returned their thanks, and, drawing near the centre-table, prepared to untie them by gas-light. "Oh! how exquisitely beautiful, aunt, this is," said Evileen. "What shall I do for my kind uncle and my dear aunt, too?" continued- the lovely girl, whose glowing cheek was still hightened by the blush of modesty and excitement. ' "Nothing, dear, but to give your loving uncle a kiss from those cherry lips; that will-richly com'pen- sate him, and charm him much in the bargain," said page: 130-131[View Page 130-131] o30 SILVER LAKE; OB, her aunt, smiling, and seeming pleased that her hus- band's presents were so much appreciated. Miss Prue did- not show the same arks of satis- isfaction at receiving her elegant silk, but only X remarked that the color was one which she couldW hardly venture to wear, as it was not straw. " Oh, sister," said Eveleen, I think it splendid; and for an evening dress there could not be any- thing handsomer."' X "But let me have what is becoming, if you please, Miss Eveleen. You know very well my style in that respect," said Miss Prue, in a very cutting manner. ; Her sister made no farther comments; but Mrs. Evard, observing the cool retort which her eldest ? daughter had given the: younger, remarked to them that she thought the dresses were more exquisite in quality, color and texture than anything she had ever seen before, and that she knew they were both proud that their aunt and uncle had loved them so much as to bring them such beautiful things. ",Indeed, I am most proud," said Eveleen, flying to her aunt, and perfectly showering her with kisses, while folding her arms affectionately around her neck. i a Miss Prue rose to leave the room, bearing her costly present upon her arm; then, throwing open her door rather impatiently, and walking to the table, she carelessly laid it down. . ' "I guess, said- she, Iit will be some time before my dressmaker will put her scissors into that stuff, i TkE- BELLEB OF BAYkU- M IE. 13 nioe as mamma wishes me to think it is; for I will not wear it to please any one; awnl if I do not have- just what suits me, I would rather not have it at all. Eveleen's is justWhat she wanted ; and I do not see why they could, not suit me, too, while: they were making a present. It looks just as if: they intended to please Eveleen, and not me. I do not see the uae of making this difference between her and me," Now, the fact was very evident that in Miss Prue's bosomn there lurked a spirit of jealousy to- ward her lovely young sister. This feeling at times revealed itself not only to the family, but to per- sons visiting the. house. She was always making a desperate effort to excell in dress in order to echlpso the advantages which- nature had so lavishly be- stowed upon Eveleen, her opposite in every respete- for she possessed amiability, beauty, and every other attraction which adorns a lovely character. Never was there moulded a form more perfect, or a feo, and "features more dazzlingly sweet. wShe had a cheek like a peach, contrasting well with her dark auburn hair. She was truly ealled one of Keen tucky's fairest daughters, "It was under the orders of Eveleen: that the household duties went on-,'for her mother was disabled by ill health from offici- ating at the head opher family. But as her young daughter had long since learned to supply her moth- er's place, she assumed the yoke of housekeeping with all the dignity of riper years. It thus came -to pass that the Colonel and his family passed off theis page: 132-133[View Page 132-133] 132 SILVER LAKE; OR, time very pleasantly, and soon fell into'a home-like feeling. But Miss Prue, how did she spend her single- blessed hours? Not in devotion to her sick mother, nor in the performance of household duties, not at all; nor in the cultivation of her mind and heart, by no means; but in the outward ornament ng, of her person, and in trying to look as interesting as her sister always did without an effort. Little X needed she the curling iron, the powder puff, or ! even diamonds .and rubies. It was in her simple. morning dress that Eveleen was the most beautiful; her hair parted and drawn smoothly from her snow.- ?X white brow, while reading to her sick mother. It ^ : was then that the youthful beauty attracted the most attention. Disappointment sometimes crushes the heart and makes callous the soul. Some unprincipled flirt had wounded beyond cure that heart of Prue's, which might have once fondly beat when touched. A sad and bitter perfidy marred it for life. But, be this as it may, Miss Prue had passed a cruel ordeal, X and no doubt it had chilled her sensibilities, which might, in past hours, have been warm, tender and true. But, laying aside Miss Prue, we will pro. ceed. THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUXE, 133 CHAPTER XX:. VISIT TO DRENNON SPRINGS. Days and weeks passed off 'ery pleasantly fori the Colonel and his family at his sister's. During this time they made arrangements for Clara's en- trance into Mr. Leuba's seminary, where there were an hundred and fifty or two hundred scholars. In autumn, on- their return fronm the springs, she was to be placed there; and as the time was now arrived for tfem to'depart for the springs, they were one day seated in Mrs. Evard's bed dhamber, when the following conversation occurred: "Suppose you accompany us, sister/,' said Mrs. , Huntington to LArs. Evard. {If your physician thinks it would benefit you, I think, while traveling in a private conveyance and at our leisure,- we could make you quite comfortable on the trip. We need not rush ourselves to make many miles a day, but move according to your strength, and stop when- ever you feel fatigued. What do you think of it, Colonel?" asked Mrs. Huntington of her husband, who walked up and down the room, "Why, dear," he replied, as he stopped for a moment, a if her doctor thinks she is able to stand the journey, I should regard it as an excellent idea. It would divert her mind, and if she does not re. ceive any benefit from the waters, why the trip would be a change of scene, and that of itself would page: 134-135[View Page 134-135] 1^4 .4 SBILVME tA 'OAft^ m, make in her favor. Say, now, let's ,go to Work, sister,' said the Colonel. "See what your doctor says the first time he comes over." "Just as you please, brother," replied Mrs. BE. "you can do just as you judge best. The fact is, that I am a submissive sufferer, and never expect to : leave my bed again. I have long since reconciled myself to mvyfate. I think that if I would not be too much of an incumbrance to you in traveling, I would like the change. But as to expecting any Yelief from my trip I do not. I have no- ight to calculate on that; for my physician has long since X told me there was no cure for me; but that I might last many long days in this condition. I try to be : X cheerful; not to complain; and to cast my cares ': ' upon God, who is the giver of all things, pleasant and unpleasant. In due time he removes the poor) :i frail, helpless sufferers, and relieves them from all pain. So, when it shall be his will, I will surely be freed from mine. I thank him that he has taught my heart not to complain. For six long years I have known him, and found 'consolation in putting all my hopes on him. He has brought me through my hours of pain and anguish. It is well, my sister, that we 'feel thus," rejoined MBrs. Huntington, who was moved to 'tears at Mrs. Evard's true humility, and her reconciliation to het afflictions, that only made her bless her God who 3lad seen fit to puit them on her. The -three had never been entirely 4lone, and; theeftre 'had not Ea THE BELLEt Ot oAYtOtT x,81. 1J8s opportunity to converse so freely as now about her situation. For Mrs. Evard knew that it was sad-to her husband and children for her to dwell upon her suffering, therefore she referred to it-as seldom as possible in their presence, and never in a complain. ing, desponding manner; and Eveleen was so affec. tionate, and fond of her mother, that she wept bitterly whenever the thought of her dying was alluded to. Judge Evard now entered his wife's room. Ho had been absent at his office all the forenoon. There pressing business detained him. For many years he had been elected to the same office in the State. The good citizens did not wish to change, to experi- ment, so perfectly satisfied were they with their long-tried Judge of the Supreme Court that no one ever seemed to think there'could or would be a change in the office. He had always held it, with all the dignity which should attend the station. He was one of those solid, decided men whose word, when once spoken, must abide. There was no equivocation or hesitation in him. When once he had sa;d, he stood by it as by his bonds JIt was manifest that he always acted upon his own delib- erate ideas, uninfluenced and unawed by anything else. . "Mr. Evard,' sard his emaciated wife, 'I have been talking to brother and sistpr about the expe- diency of my going with them to Drennon Springs; I i., o page: 136-137[View Page 136-137] 136 SILVER LAKE OR, in a few days. Now, what do you think of it, my husband?" "Very well, love, if youthink you have sufficient strength to stand the trip." "I can but try, and if I find that I can not travel : for an hour at a time, then the trip shall be aban- I doned by me; I can return, and they can proceed X on their journey. Finally it was agreed that Charlie and Eveleen should make preparations, as early as possible, and : X that in a few days all should be in motion, and they really on their way. That little interval passed, : i every thing was accordingly ready; the tivo car- : riages were standing at the door. Minta stood at her mistress' chair-back, holding her traveling shawl and satchel upon her arm; find Marsha sighed that she had not a word yet from home and Hy, but with the devotedness needful to a lady's waiting- maid, she must be ready for every emergency. jeg Therefore, as the carriages now stood at the door, @ the drivers dismounted from their seats, the baggage ; strapped tightly on behind the vehicles, the family, attired in traveling costume, advanced toward the balcony. Everything had been arranged for a com- i fortable trip. They now proceeded to place the invalid comfort- ably upon her bed, and in a recumbent position, the only way in which she could travel. All seemed fixed, and the travelers, one by one, took their seats. Taking leave of Mr. Evard and Miss Prue, ! THEp SELLE OP AtOt LUIE. 17 they started at a slow pace. After several hours had passed in leisure traveling, they-stopped to rest their horses and see- that Mrs. Evard was still comn, fortable. She had thus far stood the journey beyond expectation, and seemed but little fatigued; nay,' she Was anxious to proceed further that day. The Col. and her son, Charlie, however, prevailed on her to stop for the day, which they all agreed was best. The night passed off, to the astonishment of the travelers, without much nervous exhaustion to the invalid. When the morning came, she was the first to rouse up, and seemed impatient to proceed on her way; so, as soon as a good breakfast had been pro- cured; the horses fed and put to the shafts, the party all took their seats, after due care that Mrs. Evard had been properly placed. They now made a little more speed, and jogged on all day, until late in the evening, with not much of interest to record until the third day, which brought them to the Springs. These presented quite a picturesque appearance; the cedar-covered hills, with cottages, all white, dotted about in comfortable precision, where crowds of strangers were seen seated or lounging, asjs custom-, ary about watering-places. The carriages drove up to the hotel, and the party alighted, all except the invalid, whom they did not venture to -disturb until Col. Huhtington and Charles had spoken to the pro- pr'ietors in regard to accommodations. But as Mr. Evard had telegraphed to the proprietors at Dren- - n6n to have rooms prepared for them, all was ready page: 138-139[View Page 138-139] 138 SILVER LAtKE; O0, arranged. Their equipages and general appearance' bespoke them persons of the superior sort, and high life was evident in everything about them. Soon after the baggage had been deposited in their rooms, and Mrs. Evard made comfortable, Col. Huntington and his nephew repaired to the 'register office to look over the- names of the guests, arid to ascertain whether Mrs Rovington and Alonzo had yet are rived, according to promise. CHAPTER XXI. EVELEEN'S FIRST APPEARANCE. It was tea-time, the gong had just sounded, and the two gentlemen were passing on to the supper- room with Mrs. Huntington. The boarders were gathering in parties, for tea was already waiting. Our party had just entered the room,. when they ob- served Mrs. Rovington and Alonzo at its farthest end. They walked on until they met them; a warm greeting ensued, and a hearty shake of hands took place between the gentlemen; Col. Huntington in- troducing his nephew, and in turn Mrs. Rovington her friends. They drew near to the table, and seated themselves as near each other as possible. There' was also quite a number of Louisville ladies and gen- tlemen who also joined Mrs. Rovington, and alto' THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 139 gether a sociable and pleasant party was formed. All bade fair to be a round of enjoyment to the Southerners. As Mrs. Evard felt no inconvenience as yet from her journey, they flattered themselves that in a few days she would be sufficiently rested, and that Eveleen would be ready to participate inr the amusements which were going on. That duti- ful maiden had not left her mother, even to go to the table: her meals were served in her mother's room, with her's. Several days had elapsed in this way, and, in the meantime, letters came from Silver Lake. In these packages to the Colonel were sev- eral addressed to Clara. One, from a well-known ] hand, she chose to read as privately as possible;. the est, however, were briefly read by her mamma. Thee little epistles contained more of general infor- mation about things at home, and the plantation, than those addressed to Colonel Huntington. Some were, in fact, from the dictation, though not the autograph, of an author yet unknown to fame- namely, the sapient Hy himself. They told, in such a style as translation can not reach, "How de nig- gers wuz, big and little; how different ebery ting look, widout Massa, and Missus, and Miss Clara, and Marsha, 'dat lubly indiwidual dat (as he had hearn Massa express it) do tower above her seeks,' and certainly she wuz berry tall." After which, of course, our sable and somewhat superannuated swain fell into a fit of rather grotesque romance, and gave i^ page: 140-141[View Page 140-141] "O SILVER LAKE OR, a loose rein to a sort of love ditty, about "de pangs ob absence, and de sufferins ob him faithful heart." This evening was one of some interest to the young folks at Drennon, as a grand hop was to come off. Mrs. Evard was using some persuasion with Evelecn to induce her to leave her, in order to participate in the pleasures of the gay occasion. The latter had gone to attire herself in a ball dress, and now stood before her mamma, looking very handsome indeed. Her uncle, aunt and Charles proudly gazed upon her as they rose to leave the room; Charles offering his sister his arm, as they proceeded There was no little arrogance in the youth's manner. His figure was tall and remarkably graceful; still there was an air of assumption, which told that he felt the high position his fatter had always held in life. This spirit of overweening haughtiness in Charles often gave his father uneasiness; be feared that some day the boy might rashly embroil himself by his airs with some of those quite too like himself, in contact with whom the walks of life that he was about to tread 'would naturally bring him; for his ideas of his own superiority would be certain to be met by an equal insolence on the part of others; so that mutual impertinences would be sure to lead to their appropriate rejoinders, and presently arrive, by the easy road of the retort courteous, the civil counter-check, and the quip-valiant, at the admira- ble conclusion of a regular quarrel by the card. To THE BEL1E OF BAYOU LUIE. 141 avert the like, his father had read him some learned lectures on the subjectj but not wiser than very many youths, Charles looked on all this as decid- edly presumptuous on his father's part. As we have said, Charles looked commanding this even- ing, as he entered the ball room, with his lovely young sister resting upon his arm. All eyes fell upon them, for this was Eveleen's first'appearance. "Oh! how exquisitely beautiful that young girl is," said a dashing coxcomb to Alonzo Logan; who stood near him, as she passed to take a seat near her aunt. "Exquisitely so!" replied another gentleman, who soemed to overhear the conversation between the two young men already alluded to. "1 wonder, gentlemen, who she is," continued he; "do either of you know her?" "I do not," replied Alonzo; but I shall take it upon myself to find out, pretty soon." "Well, in that case, my good fellow, I shall request qn introduction. Logan, remember that, won't you? "Of course, provided I succeed myself, as I am not at all selfish in these matters, Foster, as you know," he continued, as he turned from the two gentlemen, and went toward the other end of the room, where he saw Mrs. Huntington seated; as a set was now forming for a quadrille, and Eveleen and her uncle were standing at the head of the set. The music became more animated, and the dance page: 142-143[View Page 142-143] "2 SILVER LAKE; OR, commenced. Alonzo sat for a few moments in silence, but venturing very soon to inquire of Mrs. Huntington "who was the lady Colonel Huntington was dancing with." "That is Miss Evard, his neice," replied she. "He is a little selfish, Madam," said Alonzo, in a pleasant, jesting manner, "as there are so many young men here who would proudly accept the honor that she does him." "Oh, he will resign, I dare say, Mr. Logan, if any present themselves for an introduction," replied Mrs. Huntington, pleasantly smiling. "Provided she has no engagement for the next set will you introduce me, Madam?" asked he. ("With the greatest pleasure I will." "As the set is now through, and the Col. is about seating the lady, perhaps this is a favorable oppor- tunity." In the next moment Col. Huntington ad- vanced toward his wife, with whom he found Alonzo seated. No sooner had his partner approached than Mrs. Huntington said, "Allow me, Miss oEvard, to introduce my friend, Mr. Logan." Eveleen bowed; Alonzo flushed up somewhat, and requested her hand for the next set. They took their places; and, in a few moments, were in a lively conversa- tion. By this time there stood a group near the door, where a good view was afforded, and any figure in the spacious room was well defined. Very soon the graceful movements of Eveleen attracted general attention. Amongst the gazers was Billy T'E BELLE OF BAYOU tUE. 148 Foster, who was perfectly charmed with the elegant tournure of Miss Evard. And now, as that set was almost ended, this first thought was to rush to Alonzo and seek an introduction; he watched, and s when the little bell tapped for the finishing of that 'figure, Billy started hurriedly across the room. In doing so he accidentally ran against Charles Evard, rather unceremoniously pushing him aside, as on he passed, without offering Charles the least apology for his awkwardness in making his way toward his sister and Alonzo. But Charles turned around in- dignantly toward the young spark, and watched whither he was proceeding. It was toward his sister and Alonzo, who were seated by a window. As soon as Alonzo perceived his approach-.he re- membered his promise, and instantly arose to intro. duce -him. At once Eveleen accei;tsd his arm for a promenade around the hall. As she was by far the most attractive lady in the room, and Billy was per- haps the most susceptible gentleman there, rather inclined to flirt with every new fair-one he met; in fact, where there was the most beauty, there he was' sure to whisper, with flattering tongue, his tales of love; and thus his yearly visits to each watering- place, where much beauty,-wit and fashion congre- gated, were as sure as the returning season; so now there passed through his shallow mind and empty l brain a rapid train of thought. tHe said to himself, as he gazed upon her, "she is unsophisticated, and dreams not of man's deceit and his treachery, nor page: 144-145[View Page 144-145] "4. SILVER LAKE ;. ORe of the ways of the world; she is a fit subject for me to handle; she will not resist my blandishments. But, stop! I must use some little precaution in this matter. That brother of her's has a perfect hawk's eye, and looks after me rather suspiciously. At least he did just now, as [ ran against him, and came near upsetting him. He had pluck; I saw the blood mount to his cheek, and the fire flash from his eyes; he is quite high-strung, I guess. However, I can manage him if I will only play my cards right at the start. I really think the girl is very pretty, and I suspect the family must be quite influential, or old ilaj. T. would not show them such distinction here. I could love her.. But, bah! what nonsense I I can only wed one after my own style, a city belle; one who understands fashionable airs and gay dress; in fact, a flirt, a butterfly. She must be engaged to half a dozen fellows at a time, and myself in the bargain; and, there must be a challenge, and an at- tempt at suicide; and the newspapers must make a noise generally about her. Then I will step forward, and she will select me, the delectable Billy F., from all the rest. If the old folks wont give their con- sent, why I will take their daughter and make tracks. No, no! that will not exactly suit my ideas yet, as runaway-matches are not precisely my game either. For, in that case, the old chap mtight disin- herit her, after which I would not give two cents for her. Of what account would she be to me without the paternal dimes?"Such was the soliloquy whichk THE BELLE OF BAYOU: LUIE; . 143 flashed through whatever was in place of a mind within the noddle of the exquisite Billy as he moved by the side of Eveleen Evard. But the promenade now ended, and each gentleman was finding a seat for his partner. In the next moment the floor was filled with rapidly wheeling waltzers. Charles approached his sister, introducing to her a gentleman from Washington City, who gracefully bowed, and he offering, she accepting, his arm in a promenade, they passed along, leaving Mr. Foster and Charles standing near together. But the inldig- nant expression on Charles' face/ ent Billy Foster to the other end of the room. The look roused a feeling of resentment in the bosom of Billy. Though not a word was spoken by either, he swore retalia- tion at to distant day. Yet there was no fault in Charles. except haste. Eveleen and Mr. Laverde continued their prome- nade around the room several times, and at length mEet Alonzo, who warmly grasping Antonio's hand, gave it a friendly pressure. "Your aunt, Alonzo, where is she?" he asked in the next breath, in tones of the tenderest interest. "She is upon the balcony with some friends from Louisville who accompanied us on our excursion,' replied Alonzo Logan, at the same time offering hia arm to Eveleen. page: 146-147[View Page 146-147] "6 SILVER LAKE OR, CHAPTER XXII. MRS. ROVINGTON AND MR. LAVERDE. Mr. Laverde passed out of the room, and on reaching the long hall he turned his steps toward the balcony, where he found Mrs. Rovington seated, in conversation. But as-this side of the building was not illuminated, as was the front, and only lighted by the moon's rays, which shed a soft gleam over the garden, she did not observe him until he extended his hand. A glow of surprise mantled her cheek, and she exclaimed, in considera- ble emotion: ' When did you arrive, sir?" "This evening's coach brought me to Drennon,' he replied, " and fortunately, after tea, I repaired to to the ball-room; was told that a hop was in con- templation, and saw that a crowd had already en- gaged in it. Almost the first person I met was Col. Huntington, who gave me a cordial welcome, with his Southern warmth of heart, introduced me to his nephew, who, in like manner, sought his fair young sister, and introducing me to her, we took a prome- nade of several turns in the room, where I fell in with Mr. Logan, who informed me that you were upon the balcony. So I have come, and happily found you here. But, in the next place, let me ask, why are you not participating in the festivities of the gay, who seem to find such enjoyment in the polka, the quadrille, the waltz? Are you not fond of such amusements?" THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 147 "At one time in my life there seemed a charm in them, but now there's none. I enjoy much more this moonlight splendor, reflecting upon those cedar-clad hills where nature lies, as it were, sleep- ing, and the dewdrops of heaven fall on those bright buds and blossoms to refresh them for to-morrow's sun, and enable themto stand his scorching rays." "I, too," replied Mr. Laverde, feel- as you do; though, in this, unlike my countrymen, who love the whirling waltz, the giddy dance. To do so is, indeed, the most natural part of their nature. For me all pleasures have vanished; I do not know why. Perhaps, because I have seen life's realities; besides, as youth flies, so do .those things which charm it. Yet I love to see the young joyous. As I look back upon the past, I think how once I was lured by pleasures; but now, for me, there's none. That which once filled my heart with delight can now charm no more. I laok around for something real, not visionary.- I seek the solid, the sure, what does not fade away and leave the heart sickening with earth's follies. From them it will naturally turn to another sort of life. I have looked for happiness, and found it as a flowery cheat, like the bloom of spring, when touched by the scorching rays of a summer's sun, that brown, and sear, and wither it into nothing. Friendship, too, I have found little better than a dream. It is faithful enough in pros. perity, and smiles delightfully as long as Fortune and all else smile upon you, too. But I have seldom page: 148-149[View Page 148-149] "8 SILVER LAKE; OR, found it anything but a summer's growth, quite too delicate, too pretty, too soft for the rigors of winter or the storms of any season. There is something timid, something shrinking in it, that seems not at all made for rough weather, nor for anything but the bloom and the sweetness of prosperity, and a life all of silk. The friends that in our sunshine live, When winter comes are flown; And he who has but tears to give, Must Weep those tears alone. In a word, my life has been a long disappointment. Its last hopeflies, unless I am to find in you the un- shaken and unchanged friendship for which my heart so yearns. It was you alone that drew me hither; let me have cause to bless the moment which once more flung us together, and the strange acci- dent which wafted me across the wide sea to meet you upon the shores of the great West. Tell me, then, gentle lady, will you not now keep the prom- ise you gave, to relate to mne at some future hour the mischances that befel during your sad wander- ing in my own native Italy, along with all else that has been touching or singular in that pathway of life, which should only have been of'flowers, but has, I fear, been not a little thorny?" All the while that he was speaking Mrs. Roving- ton remained silent, but by no means unmoved. His words recalled a throng of dreamy yet vivid recol- lections. She seemed to tread again the country, THlE BEBLLE O 3 BAYtOU LIE. 149 the very scenes where, ten years ago, they had met in thWe midst of so many circumstances deeply fas- tened upon her heart. Her own bosom echoed his words. It was, indeed, strange that they should thus meet again, so far away from the places where she had first encountered him. Did it not look as if some fate had guided back into each other the long and devious tracks through which they-had respec- tively passed? Such were the thoughts which hurried through her mind and set her heart beat. ing while he was speaking so fervently. At length, yielding to the promise which he claimed, she began succinctly to relate the story of her sad adventures upon the Continent; her father's death; how it left her, not merely to deplore his loss, but as unpro- tocted as she was desolate, a helpless girl in a for- eign land. "Indeed," she continued, "I was so overwhelmed between the grief and dismay of my situation, that L was almost immediately seized with a brain fever, which lasted many days. When I awoke from it to consciousnees, I found myself at- tended by my good old nurse, Lucy. The poor, faithful creature had watched me through my whole sickness as if I had been her babe. We were in- habiting the house of an old Italian couple, whose household consisted, besides ourselves, of but one son, a youth. The worthy people had very kindly assisted in nursing me during my sickness; evidently they came at last to take a very affectionate interest in me, and by-and-by, when I began to show signs of V page: 150-151[View Page 150-151] 150 SLVER LAKE; OR, returning health, they did all they could, as well to divert my mind as to furnish any little dainties that might tempt the capricious appetite of a convales- cent Often, to procure me these, the dark eyed peasant boy, their son, wandered through the fields to find me delicate birds or new fruits, and especially fresh varieties of their delicate grapes, which I highly relished, and which suited me above all the rest. Tended with such care, my strength, assisted not a little by not only such dainties, but by the in- vigorating climate itself, began to return." "And what, during all this time, did your father's physician and his wife do for your health or your comfort, while you were thus lonely, afflicted and cut off from even the companionship of the mate of your orphanage, your sister?" "They seemed, at times, to show much sympa- thy; though I can not say that I regarded it as real, for it seemed cold and calculating. In every act I thought I saw a studied design. As soon as I was able to travel, I was surprised to learn that we would soon proceed to England, Scotland and Ire- land, and from thence to America. The time for our departure approached. I must leave the roof under which I had received so much kindness, and the beautiful young Italian. He was deeply attached to me, and in his pure, fervid passion, he told me of his love; that he could not and would not lose ma; that follow me he would to the ends of the earth; that in two years he would become owner of an im- I TffAi ELLE OF BAYOtJ LUtt. o15 mense property on the island of Cuba, which an urc:e had bequeathed to him; that, to take posses- sion of it, he would certainly then set out, and that if I would only remain single I should be mistress of that immense estate. I promised I would, and there, before high Heaven, we plighted our faith and love. I was alone, and had nothing worldly to care for; my father's estate being large, and just where I could come at it without any trouble, But circum* stances placed me, for the time, under Dr. Duval's control, so I dared not resist any plan he might sug- gest; therefore, when he said we must start on our journey, I had to yield, no matter how reluctantly. All of my father's effects were then in his hands for safe. keeping. ".The time came for our departure. There were some strong ties that held me; my father's grave was there, it made the spot sacred and dear to me. There was another tie, strong in life and true in death." Here she paused a moment, as though the very words choked her utterance and died upon her lips. Recovering herself, she resumed; ,' orced to go, without one hope that I should meet my noble youth and these dear old people ever again, it re- quired all my self-command to set out. lMy fate was already sad enough, and it seemed to me more gloomy than ever. "A fresh trouble presently crossed my pathway.6' There was a traveling companion of Dr. Duval's who very frequently thrust his company on me. page: 152-153[View Page 152-153] sitLViR LAKE; OR, This was a Count Deminsky. The man was detes- table in my sight; I could endure him. Yet it was very evident that Dr. Duval forced his attentions to bne, and that he only waited an opportunity to pro- pose to me, which was very revolting to my feel- ings. I shunned and tried to evade his attentions; still he annoyed me beyond endurance. What should I do? was often the thought which filled my troubled heart. Without any but my old servant, Lucy, to counsel with, truly I was often in a sad dilemma. At length I determined if he did propose I would re- ject him without the slightest hesitation. All the time I was bored, almost every day, by-the presence of this hideous, detestable man, who surely, had he had any discrimination, should have seen, from. the first, that he never could win my regard or respect. Days and weeks passed, and we traveled through scene after scene, little of which could I, in my trou- ble, observe. I could enjoy nothing, so cruelly was I tormented. Finally the Dr. and Mrs. Duvai be- came cold, and negligent of my comfort in travel- ing, not on their own account, but on that of their friend, Deminsky, who, every day, and after every interview with me, gave them details of my slights to him. "The crisis approached; his fate must be decided. As we had already arrived in London, and were at the American Hotel, there he thought .to break to my unwilling ear his tale of love." '"What a sad prospect seemed now to hang over THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUTIE. 163 you. How went the suit of this Count? Did you, by easy means, get rid of him?" asked Mr. Laverde, seeming deeply interested in her story. "It was the third day after our arrival at the hotel, when Dr. Duval requested an interview with me, saying, at the same time, that Count Deminsky was very desirous of seeing me. "I presume he wishes to press his suit; it I em- phatically decline," I replied in asdecided tone. "( Here the Dr. turned, and was impatiently leav- ing the room, giving me a cutting look of rebuke which almost made my heart sink within me. "I had hoped, previous to our reaching London, I would be relieved of this. I have shown him\my dislike, and seeing my aversion, he should spare me the annoyance of his intrusion into my presence. It is particularly obnoxious to me." As I uttered these last few words the Dr. passed out of the door, where he had been standing while I was talking. "In a few moments a servant came, and handed me a neatly enveloped note from the Count, request- ing me to remain in the parlor until he could speak with me. I kept my seat, and pandered to myself what steps I should take, or through what door I should escape to avoid meeting him. Finally I de- termined to brave the interview, and control myself sufficiently to" treat him courteously, and tell him at once, in as few words as possible, what he must de- pend upon. As he entered I rose to speak; he ex- tended his hand and said: Allow me to congratu- L page: 154-155[View Page 154-155] 154 SILVER AKE1; 0yO late you on the returning health, which the bloom on your cheek indicates.' "' I thank you,' I replied, rather forcing myself to speak, for I felt that the blood had mounted and sent a blush of indignation over my neck and face. "'Let us be seated,' he said, as he reached forward to take my hand. I angrily withdrew mine, for at his touch scorn gathered upon my lip, and I turned to leave the room. "Oh, stay, I implore!' said he, 'I have sought your society this precious moment, that I might try to secure one word of encouragement, one word of consolation for my aching heart which beats so wildly for you.' "' Count Derainsky, spare me this task. I know you must have seen, days and weeks ago, by my manner toward you, how hopelessly it is. I entreat you, by all that is sacred on earth, to leave me for- ever. I can never treat you with more than the distant courtesy and respect necessary in common politeness.' At this his anger grew savage, and furiously did4 he, stride the room, until a nervous, tremor seemed to seize his frame ;r he turned ghastly pale, and tottered about the room in little less than a frenzy. "I became frightened, sprang to my feet, and rushed toward the door; for his look was so wild as to frighten me excessively. But he was too quick for me, and cut off my escape, saying, in tie most disconsolate tone: 'Oh! do not leave me, THE BELLE OP BAYOU LUIE. 155 adorable girl! Listen one moment, one brief mo. ment, to my woful pleadings.' "' I can not listen to them, Count; then why entreat me?' f "'Oh! look, in compassion upon me,' he ex- claimed, almost as submissively as a conquered child. Again he paced the room with quick and troubled strides, and said: ' Oh, woman! why wast thou sent to perplex man in his weakness while bowing at thy shrine for mercy and supplication I! "Then, as I was leaving the room, he cried: 'Shall we not part as friends, thou cold creature of ice? Ah! remember that retribution follows cruelty; it will fall upon your own head sooner or later!' "As he uttered these words I passed through the door, determining not to reply. But, thank fortune, I had passed through the flame of his passion, more frightened than singed. CHAPTER XXIII. MRS. ROVINGTON AND DAMES VIRGiNIU8. On entering my room, t found my old servahtn gone. What could htve become of her, thought I? I got my hat and hurried into the broad street, from which I by-and-by turned into a narrow lainer page: 156-157[View Page 156-157] 156 SILVER LAKE; OR, passing along which I came to a rather curiously constructed house. I observed a carriage standing at its door, and the driver upon his -box. Feeling fatigued,'I asked him could I secure his vehicle for an hour's drive? ' Oh, yes,' replied the man, I but I must wait here a moment for a passenger who is now at the gipsey dame's to have her fortune told 'It is a woman, then, I presume?' said I. ' Yes, Madam,' he replied, ' she is an old nurse. I have known her these many years, though she has long be en across the waters, in America. Her history is a mighty nice one ; she met good people there, and would die for them if it were necessary. Madam, did you ever have your fortune told? While you are waiting, you might just as well step in and hear what this wise woman will tell you. "') No' said I to the kindly-spoken man, 'I do not believe in such things.' 'But,' continued he, as this Madame Virginius is the world's wonder, you may never again have it in your power to have your fortune told you by one so mighty.' "' Well,' answered I; quite amused, 'I believe I will, just for curiosity, see what she may chance to tell me.' So, as I felt exhausted and lonesome, I rang the bell. In a few moments it was answered, and I was led through a long, dark, narrow room. The gas was touched, and in the next moment I was taken to the room, of which this was the vestibule, where I beheld the dame herself, seated THE BELLE OF BAYOU LtIE. 157 at a table, shuffling a Btrange looking pack of cards. Before her sat a figure deeply engrossed in the operation; around it having a thick blaek veil, which covered as much of the form as possi- 'ble, and under its folds there seemedFa dazzling light, which had the fitfulness of some phosphoric composition. Indeed, it looked like that- wander- ing flame, vulgarly called I Jack-with-a-lantern.': Pretty soon the light seemed to go out, the veil fell from the form as if by magic, and what did I see emerge from it but my nurse, Lucy. At first she seemed bewildered, and greatly surprised to see me there. Presently she exclaimed: Oh! blessed lady, I have it -all revealed now. The Madam must, tell you something. Why she really can show you your friends who have gone to the other world, and make you see them as when in life.' "Ah, Lucy! that is impossible. No human be-- ing can do that. You must not let this supersti- tion seize upon you.' "Oh, lady!' she said, a saw my husband, and your father and your mother, too.' 'Oh! nonsense, Lucy, that can not be. - There is no power on earth that can' perform these, miracles. "But, after all, only to gratify this old creature, whose life had been devoted to the service of my parents and to me, I took my seat -at the table of destiny. Opposite sat one of the queerest of human page: 158-159[View Page 158-159] 158 SILVER LAKE; OR, beings. Indeed, her face sent a shudder over me; while, with the dexterity of a slight-of-haLd man, she shuffled, cut and dealt the cards. This jugglery donel she said, in a strange, hollow voice: 'Lady, you have disappointment to your right bower, and loss of friends and property to your left. There is one who now loves you, whom you will not meet on this side of the waters. You will become the bride of another; and after the golden grains of ten har- vests shall have been gathered you will meet him again, and he'll claim you as his own happy bride.' "'Oh, how wildly you read, dame,' said I; 'you first say that I am to be the bride of another, some one I know not. That can not be.' I handed her a half eagle, bade Lucy follow me, and started to leave the room. "'Believe me, O incredulous lady,' she ejaculated, 'you'll see that I am revealing the truth to you.' {"Thank you kindly,' I replied as on I passed through the door into the narrow, mysterious look- ing room which I had first entered; then, reaching the carriage, I took my seat, with Lucy by my side, and gave the driver direction to take us to the American Hotel. Lucy, however, was rapt in the supernatural disclosures of destiny which dame Vir- ginius had so completely bewitched her with, and was possessed with the firmest conviction that every word of the truth was before her, as though she had seen it printed. Good old soul, I never could cure her of this superstition. It clung to her as long as THE BELLE OF BAYOU LTvIE. 159 she lived. It was with horror and dread alone that she ever spoke of the facts." "Well, now, Mrs. Rovington, the importunate, the saucy Count? Did he ever again approach you with his passionate pleadings?" asked Mr. La- verde, smiling. "I was much annoyed on our journey to the Highlands, both by the Count and his friends; but a little circumstance intervened w4ich is worthy of being related, however briefly. In our excursion to the Frith of Clyde I met a young Scotch highlander, whose yellow hair, fair complexion and gentle man- ners awoke a little sympathy in my lonely heart. In short, his attentions were of the purest nature, and soon my young, trusting heart grew soft toward the Caledonian youth." At this acknowledgement Antonio seemed a little perplexed, and remarked, in no very delighted tone, "The old adage with you ladies is often verified, 'Out of sight, out of mind.' However, there might be some excuse for you in the desire to escape the annoyances of this count of yours. This, perhaps, induced you to encourage the Scotch suitor. May I ask, did it not?" "One would readily suppose so, Mr. Laverde," replied Mrs. Rovington; for his sympathy might naturally protect me, were it true and faithful." "But there were vows give .previously," said Antonio. "Were those vows forgotten?" He spoke as if a new and painful feeling was agitating page: 160-161[View Page 160-161] 160 8ILVER LAKE j OR, his bosom. "Then please tell me," he continued, "why did you so soon forget?" "Forget?' Never! Surrounding events crowded themselves upon me; I was forced to make the best of them. Months fled along, and with them my means. My fortune was in the hands of others, and flew like the flames of the blazing prairies. On it others feasted in luxury and affluence, leaving, me more than half spent. Years have passed, and in that time I wedded Walter Rovington, who made me comparatively happy. After spending several years in this western world he sank into a decline, but not before again visiting his ancestral home near the valley of the Clyde. There I reared his monument, and there his ashes slumber in peaceful repose." For some moments Mrs. Rovington and Mr. La- verde seemed lost in memories of the past; neither uttered a word. At last Antonio ventured to speak. "All is well; Time has unveiled his mysteries; 'the tenth harvest of golden grain' is now gathered, and I stand before thee a happy one -the Italian peasant boy. I call you now, my dear Celeste, to my Cuban inherit- ance. Will you go and share it with me? I have come to fill my long engagement. Will you now comply with yours?" "I will," she exclaimed as she bowed her assent. Seizing her hand, he pressed it warmly to his lips, THE BELLE OF BAYOU tUIE. 16t then placed a ring, a family jewel, upon the third finger of her left hand. The evening was far advanced when the new be- trothed left their chairs on the balcony and passed through the hall to the supper room, where all but a few had partaken of the delicacies spread there, and returned to the ball room. And now Mr. La- verde proposed a walk through the dancing halls. They were now forming the last set. This was a Virginia reel, and almost every one present took part in it. The gay movement particularly pleased the Colonel, who had enjoyed such family dances many years before. The evening brought back to him the happy associations of his pleasant youth. But the Cuban and' his betrothed silently watched the dancers. Yet one might have imagined their thoughts to be engrossed in the future that was now dawning upon them far more brightly than Madame, Virginius had promised from her magic cards. Bez- this as it may, the two separated for the night with many glad visions of the prospect now in store for them. I page: 162-163[View Page 162-163] 162 SILVER LAKE; OR, CHAPT ER XIV. WIWS FROM SILVER LAKE. The next morning after the arrival of the mails and their distribution, Clara said: "Oh, dear papa, here's a long letter from Estelle, with news from our dear Luie home. But let me give you the bad news first. Just think, poor old daddy Hy has been ill for three long months. How shall I break the news to mammy Marsha?"As she said this she held up a closely written sheet of embossed letter paper. "There has been much sickness, too, upon the plantation, and Estelle and Sadie, with their mammas and families, are going to the Pine Cottages. There will be no one to take care of daddy Hy except the overseer. Do, dear papa, write instantly, and charge him to take good care of the faithful old soul. I hope he will rot die, al- though he is very old, and can not last much longer." "That is sad," said Mrs. Huntington, looking very earnestly into her husband's face. Poor old Hy! I hope he may get over this attack. We should miss him very much; he was always so trusty. No instance can I call to mind when Hy deceived me." "Nor can I either, my dear," replied the Colonel. "Hte was my father's body servant, and in the whole of my recollection I can not remember that he ever tried to deceive him, nor could ever I charge THEE BELL. OF BAYOU LUIE. 16 him with any disobedience, a rare fact to record of one of the servile population. You had better tell Marsha, my dear, but so as not to make the poor creature uneasy. Perhaps it would be as well to. send her back to the :plantation in ease Hy is not better at the next information. I can easily send her to the care of our faetor in New Orleans, and from thence he will send her home in safety," "But not yet, please, papa;- I can not spare mammy. Who will dress me? Mammy Marsha has always taken care of my wardrobe, and then her attendance has become almost a part of our happiness-.". "But, daughter, that is the reason I feel concerned X about her now, for I am sure neither Hy nor Marsha is like most of negroes. The old man has made Marsha'just what she is, an obedient servant like himself; thercfore, when they are so faithful, I feel that I am in duty bound to look to their comfort and welfare." Oh, yes, dear," rejoined Col. Huntington; "but we will not act hastily in the matter. The overseer will write, I feel sure, if the old man is dangerously ill. At any rate ring the bell," said the Colonel to Minta, who was standing at the back of her mistress' chair listening intently to the conversation, and N longing for an excuse to get out in order to tell Marsha of the news from home, and :only thinking to report it in the most alarming terms, "But," said Clara, thoughtfully looking into the page: 164-165[View Page 164-165] 164' SILVER LAKE; OR, face of the maid servant, ' tell mammy to come to mamma, and do not say a word beside." "No, mum," replied Minta, as she hurried out of the room on her way to the laundry, where Marsha was assisting Biddy, the washwoman, to sort out from an immense pile of clothes Mrs. Huntington's washing. There Marsha was just about lifting her clothes basket to her head for transfer to No. 19, cottage building, where Mrs. Huntington's rooms were situated, being the most comfortable apart- ments on the premises. "Here she comes now," said Biddy, looking up at the colored maid, and at the same time smiling very familiarly. "And sure ye'll be afther going wid her, won't ye. If I'd so good a promise, its mesqlf would be afther taking it. And sure ye'll have an edication as good as the best. What if ye'r color is a bit darkish. Och, and that's not much; ye'r blood is of the same color. For did'nt she tell me to spake to ye, and say that land way up in Canada is a swate place, where freedom is as much for ye as any. So I tell ye, if ye'll be afther going she'll make a lady of ye, and there'll be no sorrow for ye up there." Just at that instant the Canadian individual in question appeared at the laundry door. But Minta looked confused. She did not know what to say. First looking at Biddy, then at the Canada lady, yet still at a loss what to say; but being very much interested in Biddy's persuasive entreaties, so much TRE BELLE Or BAYOU LUIE. 165 so that she had neglected to deliver her mistress' message to Marsha, "Sure, Miss Dustan, this is the girl ye was afther talking wid me about." "Ah," said Miss Dustan; " so you told her what I said, did you, Bridget? And is she willing to go with me to Canada, where she shall have a nice home of her own, as good a room as any at these springs, all nicely carpeted, and with beautiful furni- ture? Now, woh't you go?" said the female, who was quite young looking, well dressed, and had something very pleasant in her manners; particu. larly affable to the colored girl, whom she was using her most persuasive powers to decoy away. Minta stood for a moment motionless and spell bound. At last she took courage and asked, "What do you want me to do up dar for you, missus?" "First drop that title, girl. Why do you say missus? Horrible! Why humble yourself thus? You are a child of God. Aint your blood as white as that of the white man's?" "Yes, mum, but my skin aint; so you see de difference,' said Minta, rather shrugging her shoul- ders, and looking wise. Now, Minta began to think this over in her own mind after she had stood another moment. Though she did not think that she really could leave her mistress, and their beautiful home on the planta- tion, where she had always lived. There was Phil, too. But never mind, freedom was to be tasted of ' page: 166-167[View Page 166-167] 166 SILVER LAKE; OR, The girl was dazzled, as people often are, by a word which carries as much falsehood in it as any other in our language. Marsha, too, had heard this con- versation, and had forebodings that all was not right. As Biddy started out with her basket, Marsha and Minta followed, and Miss Dustan re- quested Minta to think favorably of her proposal, and see her at her room, No. 3, the next morning at an early hour. "Yes, mum," answered Minta as she passed along, remembering, for the first time, that she had been sent hurriedly after Marsha, and just now telling her that her mistress wanted her forthwith. 'An' you jist now think to tell ob it, you little fool dat you is; standin' dar list'ning to dat talk what you done heard. I neber seed such treacher- ous white folk as dat before. She better go back whar she come from, and let us colored ones be, kase we aint got no use lis'ning to her 'suasions. We is happy as dey is. What does I care for sich talk. Nary time is dis chile gwine wid dem. An' time you is as ole as I is, den you'll know what you is about. I'se got as good home as any ob dem, an' my missus will do all she can for us colored ones, I knows dat. You fool gal, why did'nt you tell dat ole washwoman you was'nt gwine wid 'em, nary time." ' Dat's what I was aimin' to do, but she talk so fast I could'nt put in a word edgeways, as massa tells missus when she speaks so fast. I'se gwine to THE BELLE 01 BAOtt LUE. 167 tell her dat, sure. She does'nt git dis black-eyed Susan, as dat man who goes long wid. her walking sometimes calls me. Gracios I Marsha, missus think I stay a mighty long while when she sent me on an errand, kase she tell me to go quick." "An' dat's de way you tell me, is it?" By this time the two encountered Bridget just returning from Mrs. Huntington, who cried out to them, "Well, an' sure she was afther asking afther both of ye; an' I told her ye was at the laundry washing ye'r clothes."- 'Why, Biddy, what makes you tell dat fib? 1 neber lies to my missus. I always tells she and massa de straight truth. Dey neber teach us coloredc people to lie. Dey say de debbil is de farder of lies, an' dese poor white trash is his children; an' if dat is de way your Miss Dustan teach her children ob God, she don't teach me, sure," said Marsha, as she passed along, laughing heartily at the fib she had, found Biddy had told her mistress, and she had taken her up at her own acknowledgement of it to. the slave, who was too well bred to equivocate even' in the slightest thing, who presently appeared in the presence of her mistress, perfectly calm, not know- ing the sad tidings from Hy. Minta had been so taken up with her interview with Miss Dustan that she did not think to tell Marsha the news her'Miss Clara had received from home. "What is it, missus?" asked Marsha, advancing toward where Mrs. Huntington. was still. sitting.. page: 168-169[View Page 168-169] 168 SILVER LAKE.; OR, "We have news from Silver Lake, Marsha j Hy has been ill." Marsha turned of that ashy paleness which is the hue of the negro's fright. ("I feared, missus," she said, as she burst into a flood of tears, and sobbed after the comical manner of a negro's grief, then, drawing a heavy sigh, said: "Dat whip-poor-will come and said dat 'fore we done left dar, and Hy 'keep a tellin' ob me, 'Marsha, I'se gwine to die; you'll see dat afore anoder Christmas come; dar won't be no more Hy 'bout here den.' Says I, don't talk dat way, daddy, kase de whip-poor-will don't always speak de traff.' For a moment Marsha seemed overcome with grief at the thought of Hy dying in her absence from him. Clara's sympathies could 1ho longer withstand the gushing anguish that seemed to swell the fountains of poor Marsha's heart. She patted her on her red- dish brown cheek, tinged so strongly with the quad- roon descent, and tried to pour into her troubled ear words of consolations.. "Hush, mammy Marsha; we will send you home to the plantation if daddy Hy is no better at the next news from Silver Lake." "Tank you for dat, missy. I'se got a blessed good missus and massa. I knows 'em dese many long years, an' dar's no shiftin' out ob dat, kase when dey promise I knows dat it is sure to come." She now wiped away the gathering tears as they fell like drops of rain from an April cloud, which : E BEPLE OF BAYOU LUIE.. 189 overcasts the sky for a moment, but vanishes as quickly as it came. Such was the grief of Marsha; so like her o wn race, not born for sorrow or any other sentiment of long:duration. ; Each day brought its new amusements at the springs. Time flew rapidly by; visitors were con- stantly comingg and going) yet our party lingered,c :a there seemed a gradual improvement in!Mrs. Evard. She really acknowledged it herself; whether it came of the virtue of the waters, or of her constantly t being in gay society, we are scarcely prepared to decide. But a few weeks longer.-could they tarry} then back to the village must they take their way. Clara, however, remained thin and delicate, but her parents hoped that the bracing frosts of autumn would recall the roses to hler cheek .and the cherries to her lips. CtAPTER XXV, TME BSHETLAND PONY., It was now proposed that a grand excursion on horseback should be made by the young people to the Mammoth, Cave, the greatest natural curiosity of the States A little matter, however, prevented Charles Evard from giving his assent to his sister Bveleen's joining the excursionists. -It Was thuas: D9[ , . . page: 170-171[View Page 170-171] 170 SfLVjEtR AKE; OR, Billy Foster had asked to be her escort. She had not, it is true, granted his petition until she had consulted her uncle, aunt and brother, although his attentions had been very marked, and had seemed not ill received, to such judgment as the company, could form from the little they saw pass in the midst of the shifting crowd of visitors. While they were thus congregate in every direction about the hotel, on the verandahs and elsewhere, devising the most accessible and advantageous route to the Mam- moth Cave, ascertaining how many, and who, would join the party, and fixing upon the time whewnthe gay train should set out on their novel exploration. It was decided that the saddle was, undoubtedly, the most pleasant way to travel over those moun- tain deqivities of cedars through which their road would wind. Little Clara's childish proposal was here offered, that her papa should send to Silver Lake and get Sadie Holstein to dispatch her pretty pony, Button, for her to ride. This elicited laugh- ter from the company seated around, until Mrs. Huntington explained to them who Sadie was, and what a darling little pony was the aforesaid Button, as well as the adroit way which Clara had taken to let them know that she considered herself one of the party. "Oh, my dear," said her mamma, laughing heart- ily at the little girl's notion, yet looking upon her with all the adoration and idolatry of a foud mother, "only think that Button is far away, over a thousF THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 171 and miles from us, near our dear, sunny home, where he, perhaps, is grazing upon his own green knolls and glades, amidst the wild peach, passion vines and cassia which hang on their fragrant stems, all of such delicious nature that I see noth- ing like them in this climate. Button should feel complimented if he knew my Clara was wanting him so far from his native forest; at least his mis. tress would, I am sure." H-Tere she addressed herself to her lord, who sat' listening with a husband and father's pleasure. "Indeed, I make no doubt ot it, neither of Sadies sentiments nor of Button's. - But suppose meantime that I -get- the pretty Shetland pony which I saw a few days since bffered for sale?" At this proposal Clara sprang from where she was seated by her mamma, and, rushing to her father, showered him with kisses; then, in her win- ning way, began to implore him. "Dear papa! please, my good papa! I will be such a loving child! I will study so hard when you set out for Silver Lake. I know you will not refuse me, and I know you will not regret getting the pony for me. I will call him Button, too." So perfectly elated was she with her father's proposition. During this time Mrs. Huntington had remained silent. She had fears that the child did not think or dream of. A strange horse, the possibility of, broken limbs, or even neck, and a general, indefi. nite alarm seized upon her startled imagination. A page: 172-173[View Page 172-173] 172 SILVER tLAK; OR, damp of fear broke out upon her. What might not happen? Her child's very life might be sacrificed. In short,- she trembled at once with all those thotis- and apprehensions, of heaven knows what, that mothers are accustomed to have, as if they taxed their ingenuity to raise within themselves agonies without occasion. '"Dearest mamma, what say you? Shall she be gratified, and have the pony? You shall decide the matter." "Well, Colonel, let me think, and don't act too hastily in your purchase. It must be a very docile little creature, and well tried before I can let our child- mount him. Lamb-like and gentle as he may seem, I shall be afraid to let Clara ride him. In- deed, taking all things into consideration, I have great doubts." "Oh, mamma, why do you speak so doubtirigly about it. Just let papa and me decide, then I am sure of my horse. Please, please, mamma. Don't be cruel; it will be the first time in your life," said Clara, looking up beseechingly into the mother's face, as though she could not persuade herself that she would be denied. Say, say, mamma! Why can't you tell us now as well as at any time?' !"Well, my dear, I have several reasons for hesi- tating. A pony is a nice present for a boy from his father, but you are not accustomed to ride, and I fiave, therefore, serious fears for you," "Papa has no boy to give him to; and as for that, E THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 173 I must learn to ride some day or other. I can take Minta and ride up and down the locust avenue, and at once learn. It is yet some days before we are to start to the Mammoth Cave, and I will know by that time how to sit and guide my horse, and keep up with any of the partl. Now listen, mamma; shall papa not go now and get him for me. 'Tis of no use to wait. All I want is a saddle and a bridle, with strong reins. I know I can guide my horse. Oh, yes, yes! Mamma won't say no; and, of course, she will verify the old proverb, 'Silence gives consent.' Now," papa, come along! Let u-s be after getting the pony, as old Biddie O'Ryan said to Johnny.' Hereupon Clara jumped up and started as though she was already decked in a little riding hat, with whip in hand to mount her pony. But, dear," said her mamma, "you do not want the pony to-day, do you?" "Oh, yes. Now or never," replied the child, looking at her father as if she already read in his face his intention to make the purchase for bar. "Now or never," she repeated, laughing in her, espiegle, child-like way. "T'lo-morrow will do as well, my dear, for the purchase as- to-day," said -Mrs. Huntington in a rather decisive tone. ,' But, dear mamma, you know- the Bible says we , should not put off anything for to-morrow:which we t can do to-day." page: 174-175[View Page 174-175] 174 SILVER LAKE; OR, "My dear, remember those words were uttered for those who were living in their sins, and in- tended to try and turn from them, promising them- selves each day to reform and live a new life." "Well, well, I will prqmise to live a new life, be a better child, and learn to ride on my pretty But- ton's back," argued the little teaze. "My child," said the Colonel, "if mamma thinks it best to take another day's deliberation about the purchase of the pony, why we must submpit, as she is the better judge in these matters." Clara's little eyes filled with tears. For the first time in her life she seemed to wish to persist in resisting her mother, who, meanwhile, could hardly realize that fact, as she sat silently for a moment wondering at the little girl's obstinacy. CHAPTER XXVI. BIDDY AND JOHNNY O'RYAN. This rather critical pause over, Clara's unusual perversity was rather suddenly cut short; suddenly, ,but not inopportunely. A great clatter was heard in the back building; cups, saucers, plates, dishes, knives, forks, pans and waiters were flying out of the pantry windows into the air, and with smash THE BELLE OP BAYOU LTIE. 175 after smash on the pavement below; cut glass- tumblers, wine glasses, decanters and bottles, fell and lay-heaped up a ruinous mass of queenrisware. At the sound, not unaccompanied with much auxiliary noise,'the visitors came rushing to the scene of ruin. What should it be but Biddy and Johnny in an Irish fracas or frolic! That day, it seems, the head pastry cook was q-ite unwell, and had substituted in his high functions Biddy O'Ryan, upon the strength of her having been erewhile a a pastry cook in her own sweet land,- as she averred. Now, while engaged in the delicate composition of a blanc-mange, Biddy's eyes had by mischance fallen, when she had better have been saying a pater nos. ter, upon a wicked, but, ah! tempting row ot cham- pagne bottles, of which the liquid sparkled but too translucently like what- had not for many a day greeted her sight--the native whisky of her own green hills. Torn from them as she was, they had not ceased to be dear to Biddy's tender bosom, a neither the hills nor the whisky. The thought, therefore, and the sight kindled up Biddy's heart, from which they presently welled -up to her throat, being unconscious of any such tipple. Forgetting, as we have said, her prayers when she had most need of them, Biddy registered in their Stead a solemn vow, pot precisely to-heaven, that she would have (as she feelingly expressed it) 'i a lick at that craithur before she was many days older,' by which flight of time it -soon appeared that Biddy meant no page: 176-177[View Page 176-177] t17? fSILVEB MuAE; OBR longer chronological delay than until the fast -ap- proaching moment at which her blanc-mange should receive its final touch. But in the generous bosom of Biddy there was room for many affections, for her husband, her Johnny, came naturally to her mind with the whisky. He must share it with her. So, her desert finished, she eagerly flew to the dining room, where, arrayed exactly in the guise and engaged in, the tasks of a Hibernian hotel waiter, Johnny was diligently setting the great table. Stealing up to him a-tip-toe, and whispering, as Zephyr did to Flora, of old, but in Irish, not Greek, "Johnny, dear, come this way, and I'll be afther showing ye something that will warm ye'r heart. Follow ye'r Biddy, and ye shall see the like of what ye'r eyes nor ye'r throat have'nt seen -the likes of since ye left the sod." Now, Johnny knew, from the very intimations by which she expected to entice him what it was that she meant, for Johnny understood her beset- ting sin. "Och," says he, "by me faith, I don't want it. I'll not go; I'm too busy." "Ah, Johnny, do come and follow ye'r Biddy. Sure ye will, I know." Och, Biddy Q'Ryan, ye've already tasted that craither, I'm thinking." "And sure, Johnny, do come. Ye guess so well. So do come, and ye shall taste a bit wid ye'r now THE BEILE OF BAYOU LUIE. 1" Biddy, 8s ye have done many's the time. Its nice, Johnny. It will not hurt ye, not a bit of it; it niver did. Do,.come, Johhnny; ye must have a taste. Ye will not be the dacent body that-ye are unless ye come." "By me faith,-Biddy O'Ryan, if ye had a saint for a husband ye'd try to timpt him. Be off wid ye! I wish ye was in heaven, then ye'd be off both of. me hands. Och, Biddy, ye taze the life of a poor Irish. man out of his body. By the blessed fist of St. Patrick I'll not go wid ye." "After some little further skirmishing of this sort, Biddy perceiving that the enemy's line of de- fense, behind which he had taken refuge, could not be carried by the light troops of endearments and wheedling, promptly drew these back, like a skillful strategist, and brought up a force which she knew would at once take the place by storm. In this- Biddy was right, according to all the great authors, from Arrian down to Jomini, 'upon the art of war: not till lighter attacks have failed does one resort to the coup de main in fight, or the coup d'etat in politics. So Biddy at once fell upon her unfor- tunate Johnny by what we just now called mere strong hand; which is, so far as such'a lingo as the French can be made intelligible in- good, honest English, the same thing as Uncle Toby and Corpo. ral Trim (those models of soldiership, and ieven of something better) were accustomed to call by the rather deadly name of an assault upon -the trenches, - i page: 178-179[View Page 178-179] 178 SILVER LAKE; OR, In short, the valiant Biddy, familiar with all the terrible resorts of war, at once seized upon that fatal one, which she knew to be the most appropri- ate. She boldly attacked what was always Johnny's weakest point, his jealousy; and she detached a strong party at the same time to turn his flank and take him in the rear, at the head of which party she put a very desperate fellow, named Pat O'Reilly, not very long since Johnny's dreaded competitor for the happiness of Biddy's hand, and still, because not out of reach of a whistle or a sign from Biddy, as terri- ble to Johnny as the spectre of one murdered is to his slayer. "Johnny,' subjoined Biddy, with a deadly cool- ness of tone,!" no doubt but ye can do just what's most agrayable to ye, and perhaps its meself that can do the same. Pat O'Reilly, you know, is close by. Pat still mourns for me; worships 'the very ground I walk on, and adores whisky next after meself." Nothing in the history of war, whether by storm or ambuscade, ever brought a more instant surren*- der. The redoubtable Johnny flung down his arms at once, without even the formality of asking for terms. Completely unmanned, he marched off at Biddy's victorious heels to what was at once pantry and buttery. Arrived there, he secured, with trem- bling hands, a brace of bottles, the one of what Biddy supposed to be whisky, the other of that which he discerned to be solider brandy, and with THE BELLE OP BAYOU LUIE. 179 these the once more confiding pair stealthily ad- journed to the safe retreat of their own little room, which was close at hand. There the deft fingers of Johnny, accustomed to the operation, soon released the champagne from the confinement of its cork, and Biddy gulped, with much more surprise than aversion, a liquor quite beyond anything that'her Irish lips had ever known of libation. Johnny tossed off his tumblerfaill more. coolly, for many and large were the heel-taps of the like which ho had engulfed as mere trifles to a throat down which had traveled much stronger things without making him wink. But not so Biddy; the strange whisky set her Irish brain at once on fire and in a rapture; she eagerly took a second and a third glass, and by the time that the brandy was opened, toward which her tender partner was anxiously looking all the /while, she was already, modestly speaking, not only excited and exalted, but, we might almost say, glorious; it required but 'a sup or two of the more i potent brandy to finish her. Not too much to linger over a tale as tragical, we proceed at once to the catastrophe, which every reader must have already foreseen. The loving couple, now more loving than ever, went rapidly through all the usual stages of joy, until, in due time, they arrived at what the French call the denouement, in which Irish frolics usually end; that is, a fight. Johnny, not yet completely overset, was disobliging enough to refuse running the risk page: 180-181[View Page 180-181] 180 SILVER LAKE; OR, 'of more furtive visits to the buttery; and the justly indignant Biddy, chasing him thither, fell to caus- ing, by letting fly at him with whatever there was there to make a missile of, that clatter of queens- ware, and the hubbub in general, which formed, upon our main narrative, one of those skillful inter- ruptions which poets style, we believe, an episode. Ours, it will be perceived, was now naturally come within a fact or two of its unavoidable close. Every body rushing from all quarters to the scene of com- motion, breathless came, among others, that high official, the steward, who incontinently took dear Johnny by the nape of the neck, while the masters, arriving about the same time, laid hand on sweet Biddy, whereupon ensued a rapid thrusting of the former into the ignominious lodging of a dry cellar for the night, together with a trundling of his for- lorn helpmate, hoops and all, out of doors into all the blackness of the night, which by this time began wonderfully to suit the gloomy temper of her soul. She went her way, with loud lamentations, we know not whither. This was not the first eclipse of the kind which had occurred to either. Johnny emerged next day, and was again seen shining in his usual orbit about the dinner table; and though Biddy's light went out for a rather longer period, she only disappeared, like a lost star, for a time. Our readers have already had a glimpse of the compassionate dame, over whose soul reigned the benignant spirit of universal emancipation; we TIAE BELLE oP BAiOtU ttlE. 181 mean that peerless admirer of equality, Miss Dust tan, who lately took part with that other friend of Africa, that was so intent on luring away Minta to a Brussels carpeted cottage and rosewood furniture of her own. Miss Dustan was of that sublime order of souls that cannot exist except in a blaze of benefi- cence, attended with a due amount of such glorifica cation as the people of another land and the parts adjacent are accustomed to shower upon each other in all the mutual amazement of boundless self-admi- ration. If not bred there, she must have come from somewhere within the sphere of its incense; but she professed to be Canadian. Dark of hue and dash. ing in figure and dress, she had come, apparently, only to be the meteor of satins and silks, feathers and diamonds, to dazzle and disappear. Shining out in this way, she, of course, drew gazers. Noth- ing at the springs could vie with her laces or ap- proach her stylishness. If not a paragon of beauty, she was of show. The lady, in short, was queening it; but not a little as if her proper place of reign was in the realm of shoddy. What then? It by no means follows that she drew no homage. In all trivial, all shallow, false, self-seeking hearts, shoddy finds adorers. Miss Dustan soon set a train of such sighing and smiling about her; all such as buzz like butterflies about any blaze; all the silly, the vain and the fortune seekers; sorts that particularly abound at watering places. Foremost and flashiest page: 182-183[View Page 182-183] 182 SILVER LAKE; OR, of these was an arch exquisite, a king of coxcombs, of whom we shall presently see more. Just now the Dustan was absorbed in sainther occupations-in breaking, not imposing, fetters. She was invoking the goddess of liberty in behalf of the down trodden Minta and the lamentable Biddy, whose cruel wrongs her sublime soul had swdrn to rectify by a due course of underhand prac- tices. She had already seized upon the discharged Biddy as her washerwoman, taking care so to bal- ance economy and philanthropy as to get her services at half price; and by a second happy stroke of the strong-minded sort, she filled up the spare moments of Biddy's time by making her the go- between for getting that unconscious child of barba- rian oppression to run away with her and her male colleague to the fancy cpttage which was beckoning to her from afar in the pictures which they set before her. She was easy gained, for perfectly childish, and bred in all the simple heartedness of a Southern household and its ways, she was totally unaccustomed to her white folks lie. At this very juncture Biddy had been dispatched down to the bowling alley, whither the children usually resorted with their maids to sport in the thick shade. Minta was shre to be there in attend- ance upon Clara. There, accordingly, ambassadress Biddy found her, and communicated the invitation with which she was charged, to be presently and very privately THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUTE. 183 at the rooms of the condescending lady, where, she was assured, she would, be treated just as- well, as any white lady, and a good deal better than almost any of them deserved to be. "Sure, thin," cried Mrs. O'Ryan, " ye'll be afther X coming presently." "Of a sartain I will. Dat's jist what I'se a gwine to do." Just at this point a new voice, the voice of Marsha, interposed in the dialogue. Watchful of not only Ohe children, but of Minta, she had come up, un- awares, just in time to overhear Minta's promise, and to accost her, mistrustfully, with the question, "'Whar's daJi you'se gwine, and what to do, black gal? " There's nothing usually surer to beget impudence and unrulines? than the dawning idea of freedom and fine houses. Minta:'s awe of aunt Marsha was already gone. She answered at once, with succinct insolence, "I'se gwile whar I likes, and I is'nt a gwine to be telling my business to ebery darky what axes me." A chuckle of applause from Biddy followed this impertinent speech, and betrayed to the irritated Marsha the complicity of the two. She broke out, angrily, "' What does you mean, you impurdent little. black minx? You'se gitten much too tall for your inches." 'Well," replied Mnta, 'I jist means di.: when niggers comes axin' me spurfuous questions, dey page: 184-185[View Page 184-185] 184 sfiVEtZ LAIE; OR, gits spurfluous answers. Dat's what dey do, and dat's what I does," which said, with a laugh, echoed by Biddy, they ran off together, leaving the indig- nant Marsha to go with Clara in quest of her mamma. CHAPTER XXVII. EVELEEN AND WILLIAM FOSTEt. The rays of the sun, as it was gradually sinking behind banks of golden, red, amber and grayish colored clouds, were now throwing long, faint shad- ows from the wide spreading elm) beech and maple trees of the valleys. They fell more deeply upon the tall, straight cedar trees which grew upon those lofty cliffs and dark moss covered rocks, as they lay in piles of ruinous grandeur, looking as though in some of nature's wild freaks or mighty convulsions they had been tossed together, in mere sport, from the wrecks of some great mountain pile. At their. base gushed out a multitude of mineral springs, all so clear as, in the deep pools which they formed, to take a blue almost as deep as that of the skies, These strangely tinted waters were reputed to possess such medicinal virtues as drove off all dis- eases, all aches, cured even that frightful malady) ugliness, embellished the plain, made the handsome a THE BELLE- OF BAYOU LUIE. 185 absolutely bewitching, rejuvenated old age, and healed all the ills that flesh is heir to, except poverty, a passion for play, and the infirmity of mint juleps, which they were accused of somewhat promoting. In the alternate'glo'w and shade of such a sunset were seen groups of ladies and gentle- men gathering around these pools. Many only tasted the waters to turn away. They belonged to that class who came more in pursuit of pleasure than health, and had left some gay city to pass the summer months with the fashionable who thronged Ato this place yearly. Others were there to test in earnest the virtues of the waters, and drank them freely. The whole scene was gay and animated, as well as picturesque, and the hand of an artist might have caught from it many a happy composition, or where parties wandered into the savage recesses of the hills, niany a wild one. The fairest of all who glided gracefully over the shady knolls and ferny vales was Eveleen' Evard. Gentle, sweet and charming, unconscious of her loveliness and the admiration she all the while won from all who came to know her. Many hearts-beat at the sound of her name. Amongst them was one that thrilled far more wildly than all the rest. The passion was deep, the worshiper devoted; but as yet not only undeclared, but even unsuspected, for Eveleen was little given to imagining lovers in those who approached her, bowed they ever so low, or hung they ever so much upon her looks. N page: 186-187[View Page 186-187] 186 SILVER LAKE; O R This was Alonzo Logan, a youth as shy as he was passionate. Thus he had suffered it to come to pass that another had been accepted for her attend- ant in that evening's walk some hours before He himself had asked 'that favor. Billy Foster had supplicated, and succeeded. Not that that worthy entertained any thought more serious or worthier than the hope of a triumph over Logan in forestall- ing him, together with the dear delight of a flirta- tion with a girl of figure. To Billy such a flirtation was not only meat and drink, but a credit or honor, the acme of all renown. Great, therefore, was his exultation when by and by they went forth, chatting gaily, passed the springs and came to the foot of the bights. It became necessary she should accept his arm, as they started to ascend a steep declivity, where a large rock lay covered by gray moss and fern and ground ivy, with these clumps of white and blue violets intermixed their modest little headsy looking so tempting that they could not hut stoop to pluck them. They found, too, specimens of shells and petrifaction clinging to the long rock moss. "Oh, how beautiful these are," she said, as she seated herself and commenced weaving a garland, tastefully composed of the feathery leaves of the green fern intertwined with the white and blue blossoms "Delicatoly fair, indeed, Miss Eveleen they are, but nolt more than is she who is now wreathing. THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 187 them, and that pearly hand which now holds them." With this he reached forward, seiz d and slightly pressed her hand, gazing at the sa e time into her soft, azure eyes. These, howe, flashed in a mo ment, and sparkled with displeasure under their long, dark fringe of lashes. She withdrew %Ier hand with all the indignation of a woman's offended deli- cacy, and blushed deep and deeper, while her brow colored a crimson, and with pride and scorn in the next moment she arose to leave him. "Stay, beautiful one!" he exclaimed. "Pardon me, Misa Evard, it never occurred to me I was. showing disrespect to one I so dearly love. WillW you forgive me?" he said, looking full inbo her face.. "Love me! Love what! Add insult to displeas-- use, Mr. Foster! What right have you to breathe into my ear a word so tender? It is not recipro- cated on so short an acquaintance.' I can not forgive." "Won't forgive me, fair creature? It is not nata. ral for one so lovely to bear malice. Come now, gentle one, you know to err is. human, but to forgive is divine," he said insinuatingly. "Under this condition, and this only, will I for- give you, Mr. Foster: that you will lot this'be the last time you try unceremoniously to take my hand, otherwise, believe me, you will be banished from-my presence forever, and discarded from my friendship." 'I shall obey," he- exclaimed ; "by all that: is- page: 188-189[View Page 188-189] 188 SILVER LAKE; OR), sacred I will obey her who, of all living, holds my soul captive." Eveleen bowed her head very independently, as if accepting his promise, and then, as to the captivity of his soul, answered: -I will believe as much of that, sir;as I choose; but so- long as you observe my rules you will have my kind respect, and nothing more o "Kind respect," re eated Foster; "that is a very cold term. For all that my heart feels for you. Kind respect! Well, well. Is that all, fair lady, thou canst show me?" "What more would you ask of a stranger, Mr. Foster, a mere passing acquaintance? 'Tis enough for any gentleman to possess the kind respect of a lady; and should you always be so fortunate as to hold the kind respect of your numerous friends, tJou will hold a sacred treasure, a wealth beyond any that is of this world, I do assure you. May you ever be blessed with a safeguard like that, a talis- man by which you can pass through society fi'ee of reproach, and under that wing of angelic protection. For do you not call us I angels?' And when you do so, do you not mean that we are such in some- thing more than mere face and form? Then surely it is worth while to merit the kindest respect from women, which so few desire, in a great circle of acquaintance. Now, look around and see if I speak ,not truly." All this was rather beyond .the pitch of Billy's THE BELLE OF BAYOU ][UIE. 189 understanding, though usually flighty enough, for his mind soared into the false, not the true, aind therefore downward, not upward. So. not knowing what to say, he remained mute, and they'teturned toward the walks and shades around the springs. Twilight had already approached, and many were slowly directing their course toward the house and the cottages, scattered about in a kind of orderly confusion. Another'party, like themselves, still moved slowly toward the parlors, where there seemed so mlich mirthfulness that the very dells resounded with the echoes of the happy voices as the visitors stood in groups upon the verandahs, about the cottage doors, awaiting the announcement of tea. As they drew near the range of cabins Billy re. covered his voice and spoke. "But, Miss Evcleen, you did not answer my question about our trip to Mammoth Cave? Will you except me as youi: chaperon oh the excursion, that happy occasion?" asked Mr. Foster, rather anxiously. "I can not say just now, Mr. Foster; perhaps two days from this [ will be more decided, if you will- allow me so much time." "Of course, Miss)" replied Foster, bowing as he,-/ bade good evening. (Just as you please; but Il should be more than happy to attend you." Here he spoke rather sarcastically, and was understood;; for what. escapes a woman's quick' perception?- A: quiet little laugh was all the answer, and intelligible page: 190-191[View Page 190-191] 190 SILVER LAKE ; OR, enough. Mr. Foster bowed again, started toward the gentlemen's quarter, and disappeared as he de- scended the winding stairway, where he presently met Alonzo Logan. "Halloo, my good fellow," said Foster, touching Logan, on the shoulder rather familiarly, at which Alonzo suddenly turned and found who it was ac- costing him. "Well," said Alonzo, "I hope you have had a pleasant evening with Miss Eveleen. You were very exclusive, I think, sir," continued he, feeling a little excited, but all the while trying to conceal it. "(Very agreeable, indeed; truly a delightful eve- ning; perfectly charmed with the lovely creature. I could hardly restrain myself from telling her how , much I adore her." " Indeed," said Alonzo, as he himself resumed his way through the long hall, "Hardly restrain! I am sure it was not for want of brass that you did not tell her, as I think you have a surplus of that commodity." Foster was very quick tempered, and in a mo- ment he felt his face burn and eyes flash. "What does the insulting fellow mean? I'll have an expla- r nation the first time we meet," muttered ho to him- self. "I cannot brook such an insult as that." By this time Alonzo had passed on toward the , parlors, where the ladies were chatting like so many lairds all in a cluster; a sweet concert of tongues, where all talked and none were left to listen. Mr. THE BELLE OP BAYOU LUIE. 191 Laverde and his new betrothed sat apart. He was perfectly devoted to her, scarcely leaving her side for a moment, and it was now generally known and talked of that the autumn would see them happily united. CHAPTER' XXVIII. WILLIAM AND BELLA. Col. Huntington had already taken Clara with her mamma to look at the beautiful Shetland pony. They were both delighted. His form was- faultless; his color so nice and rich a brown; his mane arqd tail so full and sweeping; but one thing remained to be told, and that was, that he had a bad habit of jumping suddenly (as ladies, and "starting,", as gentlemen call it). But the defect stood altogether a very serious one with Mrs. H. She knew that when the child attempted to ride him, she would forever have fears of her getting hurt. "But, dearest mamma," said the anxious child, t I will always look out for that. I'll pat him when I see him raise his ears." "And then he will not have the heart to throw his gentle mistress," said her father, trying to help her out in reconciling her mamma. . , page: 192-193[View Page 192-193] 192 SILVER LAKE; OR, "Besides," added she, { Dulzeeka told me a long time ago always to pat my horse when he was fiightened, and that would make him docile. Now, papa, you see I have treasured that piece of advice, which I will p ractice and profit by, too." (' Do, my daughter, then papa and mamma will feel no fears when you start on your little excur- sions with your pony." "This I will promise to do, and you will see that I shall not get even a scratch from my dashing Shetland." ("Well, dear, she shall have the pony, shall she not?" asked the Colonel in his kind and soothing address. "' I suppose, dear papa," replied Mrs. Huntington, "sAle must be gratified in her great desire to own a Shetland." "Oh, thank you, dearest parents; and the beauti- ful Shetland is mine to keep," cried Clara, kissing first her mamma then her papa. "He is yours," replied her papa; " yours to keep; all your own individual property. I think, now, I shall send and have Phil to come ajid attend him, for your uncle can keep Phil employed about the house, giving him time to attend your horse and keep him well cared for." t Papa, will mamma Marsha stay at uncle's, too?" a' My dear, I think not, for old Hy, you know, is THE BELLE OF tBAYOU LUnE. 193 in very poor health, and she must go back to Silver Lake. But Minta shall stay with you, and, wait upon you as your dressing maid." / "Oh,' that will be so nice; Phil to attend my pony, and Minta my own wants. How e-good you are to your pet. Well, I lope that when I am a young lady I shall repay you for all the anxiety you have had in my childhood, all I have cost you.'" Again kissing them both fondly, she started off, delighted with her prospects, and presently meet- ing Minta, revealed, in her child-like manner, her little plsns, for she thought to make the girl-glad, as she had always done, and that Minta would share in her little girlish delights, as colored maids of the South are generally allowed by their young mis- tress to do. But instead of showing the sympathy -which Clara had expected, Minta gave her head an independent toss, quite unintelligible to her young mistress, ard passed along in a very surly manner. It was mani- fest that this habit was growing daily upon her, though not yet noticed by either her master or mistress. Evidently some bad work was ,begun. Occasionally she would tell of the grandeur of her home at Silver Lake, and what elegance pervaded the habitation. "I tell you," she said one morning when she was expatiating largely, " why us darkies has as nice house at our quarters as dis whar you is staying, and I was monstrous happy dar 'long wid Phil. Well, dem times done changed, and de song page: 194-195[View Page 194-195] 1S4 SILVER LAKE; OR, say "dar is a gooder one comin' I'se ready for dat, for sure." "Well, Minta, Canada is the country f)r you. You can live there to be much older; and, besides, you would be your own mistress." "Well, ma'am, but spose I can't leab Phil to go dar?" But he may come too, if he wishes." "I don't think, ma'am, Phil would leab massa. He tink3 mighty heap ob massa, kase massa always do dreadful well for his colored folks." 'That may be true, Minta; but to be your own mistress is of vast importance to you." "But, ma'am, aint all de people up dar white, kase I hear 'em say dar aint much colored ones dat side de borders?" "Oh, there are many, and they live in beautiful houses, have good churches and fine schools." "And does dey learn to read? kase mammy Tenor always say dars no use in colored folks larn- ing dictionary, when Miss Clara use to be teachin' me, kase I neber speak proper, kase'n I always talk arter de ole way what I'se use to, and dat is de way, ma'am, wid de plantation people Dey is perfleckly happy when dey gits all dey wants, so dey want nofin more." Here the conversation ceased, as Miss Bella began to see that Minta was somewhat attached. Time might do wonders for the poor creature. "Och," said Biddy, who had listened all this time - THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE: 195 to the conversation between Miss Dustan and Minta, "and su' e she is afther sparking that Phil." Minta hung her head, trying to affect bashfilness, but at the same time was far from wishing to con- ceal the attachment existing between her and Phil. All further conversation was dropped, and the attention of Miss Bella Dustan was directed toward the door, where some ore was knocking. "Come in," was the answer; and; at the same moment the two visitors, Biddy and Miss Minta, departed by the back door way. The late arrival provced to be a waiter, bearing on a silver salver a handsome enameled card with Mr. W. Foster's compliments, requesting Miss Bella Dus- tan's presence in the private parlor. As the man withdrew Bella returned her compli- ments, with a promise to be with her friend ih a few moments; then, passing to her bureau, She adjusted the dark ringlets which fell profusely around her face. Upon it was stamped a look of confidence, which almost amounted to boldness and seff-esteem, set off by a manner very keen and maneuvering. She presently left her own room, passed through a small hall, then into a narrow recess, handsomely covered with rich carpeting. For an instant she halted, only to untangle her chain, which had caught in the trimming of her tulle undersleeves; in the next moment, as the door stood ajar, Foster heard her light step approach, and very cordially meeting and taking her by the han)d, led her to a r 4 page: 196-197[View Page 196-197] 196 . SILVER LAKE; OR, seath eside him, and tenderly said, "( How is Miss Bella this evening?"He was still holding that well proportioned hand in his. "Very well, I thank you," she replied. "But why were you remiss this afternoon? I waited, still you came not to comply with your engagement of attending me to the sulphur wells. I hear that all the belles were there save this your humble Bella. Here a pretty pun was designed, a little to assist the significance of which she laid her hand in allusion upon her bosom. Now, William was glad, for private reasons, of some excuse to give as indefinite as possible; so he only replied that a matter of not much import to either of them had prevented his attentions to her. "You must excuse me. You will, I know you will, pretty Bella," said he in the most flattering manner possible. "Bella will forgive her own William. Now say, dearest, I know you will."' For a moment she did not reply. She was a little piqued, to use her own expression. "I can hardly say that I will forgive you for breaking your en- gagement." "Why not, pretty one? Don't you know how deeply you hold me in subservience to your every wish? I tell you now as before, that Bella Dustan is all the earth to me. She is my world. Without her I wish to leave this sublunary scene, go to the mountain hight and plunge into its darkest caves, never more to rise to mortal existence. So sure as THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE.. i97 you reject me and disappoint me, sg sure will I seek relief amongst the crags beneath the peaks of the White or Green Mountains, or the torrents of the St. Lawrence." "Ha, ha," replied Bella in a very incredulous laugh, adding: 'And dash out your brains, I sup- pose. Well, you may tell that to the marines, not to me, William. I can not swallow flattery by the double dose; it nauseates. "Well, by the powers, Bella, I do not wish to be sported with,' for by this time he felt a little pro- voked that she should try to make light of him. "And now," continued he, "you shall believe what I say; I will never give myself up to an incredulous, suspecting woman, one so perfectly cold and inde- pendent as you sometimes seem. By the powers i you show off the 'woman's rights' a little too strong for me." William Foster! have you so far forgotten your- self as to be insulting to me? Leave me until you can show more of-the gentleman a bout you. I never expected this from you so long as I have known you. What do you mean? I can guess though, I suppose, as I have had some few hints of what I now feel sure is the fact. I shall not remain here. I shall leave the springs in a very few days for my own lovely hills.'" Foster's temper by this time was somewhat sub- dued. A threat from Bella-was a composer that he very much needed. Je softened down; and now, page: 198-199[View Page 198-199] 198 SILVER LAKE; Oft, by way of excuse, said: "Bella, if I wish you will not go, will you?" "If you continue this uncalled for, ungentlemanly conduct I will be off in a jiffy," she replied sharply. "Oh, Bella, 1 know you will stay to please me; beside your brother and the party will not leave before the Cave party have made their exploration and returned, by which time I shall then be ready to start for Canada myself. The season will be through at this watering place, and all of the fash- ionables departed, even the beautiful Miss Evard. Charming creature! What will the boys all do when she leaves them?" "Ah, yes, Miss E.! Now the murder is out, William. At the mere mention of that name my heart sinks within me." "How? What's that all about, lovely girl?" eried Poster, drawing near and taking her hand and pressing it warmly to his lips. "You do not think for a moment that I love her, do you?" "Oh, no, not by any means would I allow such a thought to enter my brain; and even if I did, I am sure you should never gain anythi-g by such a piece of perfidy, for I could easily break up any such faithless arrangement." "How, my pretty bird? Tell me how you would go about it so as to do any very great harm?" That is all best known to myself. By the way, THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 19 William, I think that brother of her's is very hand- some, and seems a very gentlemanly person, in- deed." ( What do you know of him?" inquired William. very hurriedly, as though some little jealousy had taken hold of him. "Why I met him at the springs yesterday. le was there when I arrived, and, seeing me trying to procure water, he came forward and kindly prof- fered to hand it to me, as he saw my position was not very advantageous." "And of course you received his affected courtesy, and, like alittle goose, took it for respect, did you?" Of course I did; and I do not choose to be called a goose," replied Miss Dustan, straightening herself to an erect posture. "I can not see why if a gentleman offers me such attention as that I can not in return tender to him my thanks. It is just what I or any o her lady is expected to do." Very well, do just as you please, Bella, and I will do the same. The rule must work both ways. Now, if you consider our promises at all binding, you shall not notice that fellow. The first thing I know he will be calling upon you." William Foster, you are ugly this evening. What bas upset you thus? I really think I can read the game you are trying to play." "No& game at all, unless your own," he replied& /1 page: 200-201[View Page 200-201] 290 SILVER LAKE; 01O "Treat me as you should, then I will act as Bella Dustan always has wished to act with you, lady-like and gentle." But Foster was still ill-humored and obstinate, and thus the evening passed in cross-queAtions and contradiction until they separated, and William told her he would join the party to the cave. CHAPTER XXIX. THE CAVE PARTY. That mighty event arrived on the morrow. A gallant party, finely equipped and mounted, not a little in fanciful costumes, went dashing off at a rapid rate in gay conversation, Col. Huntington as their leader, vho had never seemed happier 4han on the present occasion. Always ready to give pleas- ure to the young, his spirit entered into all the hilarity of youth as if never forgetting that he had once been young himself; and not like most persons, who seem to think when youth departs all those joyous feelings must pass away with it. It was not so with Col. H.; he delighted to give the same privileges to the young that he had once enjoyed himself. Mrs. Huntington had kindly taken measures for Eveleon to join the party, prefering herself to re- THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 201 main behind and attend the Colonel's invalid sister rather than go herself and deprive her neice of the enjoyment. To her it was no sacrifice, but indeed a pleasure, to watcht that patient sister, who had suffered so many hours of long, close confinement, and whose health had been somewhat improving from her sojourn at the springs. The delighted Clara was brought forward to mount her pony and ride by her father's side. Once launched upon their way along the beautiful windings of the Kentucky valley, she began to be reminded that it was thus and thus that her reins were to be held, her horse to bo managed, her seat to be kept. She listened very earnestly, adjusted the supple little pigmy to an easy yet erect position, and soon appeared to have a perfect tact for the saddle. Indeed, she displayed a great talent for eqiestrianship. To see it gave her father much pleasure, and he praised her for her early acquired proficiency in the art. She, too, felt proud as she beheld her figure in the shadow which the sun's ad- vancing rays cast beneath her as her pony pranced fleetly forward. Not many miles, however, had they thus ridden on when an incident occurredethab sadly changed the happiness of the day. In-passing the outskirts of a village they came upon a troup of little boys who wore playing at bandy. These, not observing the party's approach until it was close upon them, at sight of the cavalcade loudly screamed and shouted. :Now, as the pony was circus bred, O page: 202-203[View Page 202-203] 202 SILVER LAKE; OR, he at once conceived these sounds to be applauseF, whereupon he forthwith commenced prancing and capering. At this the boys redoubled their eries, and, of course, the pony his performance. He gave loose to all the antics of the ring; he danced, he waltzed; he enacted his part to the utmost; now spinning around, and now standing almost erect. Still the little rider firmly kept her seat with per- fect confidence and self-possession, not seeming in the least alarmed. Unhappily this but the more excited the clamor of the wild village children; they waved their hats in admiration, and pealed out yet shriller cries. At these, as if come to that part of the entertainment in which he was to rush. madly from the ring, the pony suddenly wheeled and" dashed off with his rider as fast as he could lay his swift feet to the ground; in a word, he bolted, and, with the fleetness of a racer, was out of sight in an instant. Her father was amazed, and forthwith set off in pursuit; but he chanced to be heavily mounted, so that instead of gaining upon heri lost ground, was Weft out of sight, and soon could only follow by the footprints of the pony. In vain did he urge with the spur his slow steed. It soon became evident that as long as the racer continued he should be dis- tanced. All he could do was to press on in the hope that it might please the pony by and by to stop.- At length he almost gave up in despair. c"Oh, my child!" he exclaimed, " where art thou! God protect thee, thou precious one, what will thy THE BEtIfE9 OF BAYOU LUIE. 203 fond mother say? She must chide me for my care- lessness if anything befall thee. Oh, that I had known the pony's tricks! Why did I not try him better, as she wanted me to do? But, alas! it is now too late! My child!" he said in almost wild lamentation; "I have sari misgivings. Oh, may God .and the angels keep her from harm, and spare her to us a little longer--us who have watched her through sickness and health-our al that we doat upon --our own darling!" l He had nrow strayed hew knew not .Mow far from his party, and Yte tn'othiti ; ::omised the recovery of the child, for O:^i:^/i:? 4i of tihepony's little feet had by this ti::.i he h d been fol- lowing upon mere cohJ;e .^ t housand troubled thoughts hurried throurgh' .idd; as many doubts beset him. How could"tl and yet which way press forward? F 4i'tit already' off the track, ,-and deviating the *^nitore he attempt. hedto pursue? a1 i't oe y^ t Thus perplexed" and int n -founded, by the ptrangeness of what had bij:iand! hurried along by a sort of wild necessity:,;knew not whither or why he continued to urge., t: Tehase. It was evi- dently growing almost hopelres but even the ex- treme of discouragement, ')?:hing to despair, ocould only drive him thhs fasted:. To push blindly on was but too probable to 'fail; but to abandon the pursuit was utter defeat; and even to pause contin- ually lessened the vanishing hope of success; so he' o /o page: 204-205[View Page 204-205] 204 SILVER LAKE ; OR, drove wildly on, not obeying any distinct conclu- sion of the reason, but giving himself up to a sort of instinctive decision, such as is apt to lay hold upon us and stand in the place of judgment when difficul- ties that we can not solve or a throng of dangers at once thrust us on. He still went -forward, there- fore, no little at the choice of his horse rather than his own, and passed mile after mile from the streams of the Green river across a wide tract of whlat are called the Barrens of Kentucky until he descended into the valley of the Kentucky river .itself, and began to pursue along its course the banks of that stream. Though rough enough, and often but an obscure path, it was his plainest route, and there- ,fore afforded the most visible hope that the master- less and fugitive pony had kept it. He still urged his now jaded horse to the swiftest pace at which he would go, but the road itself gradually growing smoother and less embarrassed by forks he was able to occupy himself less with it and more with the distracting afflictions and feelings that coursed each other through his breast. The mind, soul and body of Col. Huntington -seemed engrossed in the pursuit of the one object- the search of his adopted daughter, her welfare and safety. Her whole life, perhaps, had ,not caused him so much anxiety as the few brief hours of her ab-. sence, especially when he reflected on the fearful circumstances under which she had been taken from ihis side. No, not through all the hours of her child- THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 205 hood, her delicate health, nor even the moments of danger to her. life from disease, when at times her existence seemed to hang upon the most brittle threads, had he ever felt the same terror. Then, too, her mother's injunctions rose to his mind, and redoubled his anguish. But he did not allow de- spondency to overmaster him. '"I will and must find her unless this swift current has engulfed in its depths both my-darling and her little, treacherous 'fly-away,' as she so fitly named him," he more hopefully murmured to himself. ":But if they crossed this stream in its present state I really have fears," said he again, looking about, and casting a mournful glance at the eddying river as it hurried on its meandering course, sweeping by every nook and bend, foaming and fretting as it tossed up its muddy waves into foam, rapidly passing over the shoals and rocks which lay scattered about in its bed, and which the stream had not yet covered, revealing great banks of periwinkles and mussle shells as they lay in heal,s, mixed with pebbles, and covering the sandbanks where the hard-shelled turtles were- wont to choose their habitations, and here, unmolested, they could creep out to sun them- selves, or quickly plunge back to their homes .in the deep pools. Lifting his traveling cap from his aching head, our ' solitary horseman ' now perceived that the sun was rapidly sinking behind the lofty trees, whose thick foliage darkened the river barnks. The vari. page: 206-207[View Page 206-207] 206 SILVER LAKE; OR, ous hues of green seemed to catch the lingering rays of the setting orb, forming pyramidal shapes, and rising one above another, along the hills ard ravines, wild and picturesque looking, their broad spreading boughs gracefully stooping toward the stream, and brightening the greenish hue which nature had given to its waters. CHAPTER XXX. THE FLIGHT OF TIlE SHETLAND. Farther ahead an opening seemed to gleam through the density and break the monotony which had extended through so many miles. For a mo- ment he drew his rein and allowed his tired steed to slacken his pace, while the prospect of a human habitation infused a glow of hope through every vein of the Colonel's body. Presently a far off chiming of bells caught his ear, and oh how melodi- ously fell their sweet notes up)on the senses of the tired rider, for they told that a village or country town was at hand. Col. Huntington gave his wearied horse another touch with the spur The poor animal started off as if severely stung, and almost made the rider's heart ache at his own seem- ing cruelty; but the horse set off with fresh spirit, now briskly trotting, or ever and a-on falling into THE BELLE OF. BAYOU LUIE. 207 an easy canter, altogether more comfortable for the horseman. Speedily he found himself approaching some finely improved plantations. At these he only halted to ask if the lost one had passed that way. None could give him the desired information, and again his heart almost sank in despair. But fresh cour- age seemed to animate his horse as he wound his way down a long and rocky road, stumbling at almost every step. His instinct seemed to warn him of a resting place at hand, and the approaching comforts of a well stored stable. Hope now rose afresh in the rider's bosom, for he beheld, first, stately avenues, and anon, at the foot of a declivity, there towered tall cedars, tastefully trimmed, which soon announced visibly his being just on the out- skirts of a handsome town, surrounded on either side by t:ll cliffs, tlickly overgrown with cedars, while around the bass were strewn immense rocks, to which time had given a covering of long, dark moss, amidst which, at the base, spread in glittering masses a curious species of petrifaction only found here. These together gave a peculiarly wild and picturesque beauty to the scenery, which was yet further hightened by many fantastic excavations and recesses in those rocky walls that now looked like niches, the work of art, and now were natural grottoes, the hanging mosses about whose black mouths mingled strangely their various greens with page: 208-209[View Page 208-209] 208 SILVER LAKE j; OR, the brown and grayish tints of the overhanging cliffs. "Thank God! thank God!" said Col. Huntington, "I am near the homes of man once more. My child! my darling litte Clara! if I can only hear one word to cheer my anxious heart I shall feel as Columbus must have felt on the discovery of the New World." These thoughts passed rapidly through his mind as he beheld the beautiful city of hills, whose buildings told that a refined poput lation dwelt there. He could but perceive the signs of all the social advantages whieh seemed to be gathered there, though he gave but a passing thought to the prospect, for twilight was approach- ing,- and as he came within the town he began to come upon people,-'ingle or in groups, who were, from their places of business, making their way s toward their homes and the delights that cluster aro-lnd that slirine of the soul, the family hearths stone. Col. Huntington's anxious inquiries, however, were not passed by unheeded. As he related to them the sd -story, some would say, Ad WYy, sir, advertise in the morning newspapers ;" others said, "Post her at every adjoining town ;" others unhesi- tating replied, "We will give you immediate assist- ance." We need hardly say that all their kind offices were acceded to forthwith. After having proceeded to the most popular hotel, registering his name and taking a little refreshment, THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 209 only to sustain nature, and not that his appetite at all called for it, he gave the hostler instructions to be very careful in grooming and feeding his over- ridden horse. Plaze ye'r honor, sirr, replied the hostler, "ye mane by that he should not be after ating too much more than is his share, as they say the crops are being short this season; and sure it will be well any how at all for ye'r hoss not to be after ating too much, bekase it might be the death of him. The craitar is tired and hungry; so now, ye see, sir, 1 must have an eye to the size, of the fade I'm after putting in the rack." "Well, give him enough, if youn please," continued Col. Huntington. "What I meant was, that you should not founder the animal." "Aye, aye, sir, I understand," replied he; "ye jist want me to give him a dacent bait, and water and curry him down; and sure this is all he will be after needing to-night." Dismissing this case, Col. Huntington hurried away to where a group of gentlemen and youths were waiting to join him in the search throughout the city for the precious little girl that he had so minutely described to them, and for whom they felt so much interest. In their midst was the bellman of the town, old Chris, who had been summoned for the occasion, with his bell in hand. A queer look- ing old creature he was. Already the first tap of his bell, and still farther pealing sound of his stentorian page: 210-211[View Page 210-211] 210 SILVER LAKE; OR, voice, had called forth swarms of little ones, who were looking very mysteriously into his face as they gathered from all quarters of the city to which reached the clamor he was raising. They came like j so many busy bees just ready to start from their hive in their wild mission for a new resting place. Old Chris had for two .enerations back beeTn dis- bharing hi i kind, but rather vociferous, oqficae of "Iost child" finder. Very decrepid was he, too, and lelit with the weight of years, which hadit, as they passed over his happ)y head, left their snows there to make a droll contrast with tho ebjonv coun- tenaeri(e below. As now his mournful cries were he:ird far and wide each child that could not join his escort rtushed to the door or windtow to hefrl. what he said as on he moved throurgh street after street, while the very lamplights seemed to burn with more lhan their usual brilliancy, as though to aid in the drearv and dtar k search for tthe stray little one. AMeantime Chs' dolorous tongue and the obiigato accompaniment drew at each step fresh recruits, and would rouse up to new, courage that band on their doleful night errand. THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 2" CHAPTER XXXI. THE LOST CHLD. Just then, emerging from a trelissed porch, came a manly youth, who seemed to have passed some six- teen summers. Though not uncommonly tall of stature, yet he was exceedingly intellectual in ap- pearance. As he stepped forward-there was some- thilng in his carriage and speech as graceful as it was commanding. "' Old man," said he, calling to Chris," will you describe that lost one?" "Yes, master," answered Chris; , it is a. beauti- ful little girl missin', and a berry nice pony. De child hab on a ridin' dress, an' de pony a small side- saddle. #She hab long, curly hair, and him a -long, straight tail." ' Where did she live?" continued the youth, {' and under what circumstances was she' lost?" "She no lib in dese parts, sir; her's a stranger here, young master." "But can you not tell something more precise as to her disappearance from her friends?" inquired the youth, seeming a little restless and anxious as he made a step closer to the ancient herald. At that moment came forward Col. Huntington, all tremulous with excitement Said he, "The child is my daughter, young sir. She was run off with by her horse this morningf. " Wherewith he proceeded to give a- detail of their journey from page: 212-213[View Page 212-213] 212 SILVER LAKE; OR, Drennon Springs, at the same time watching every lineament of the youth's face to try and glean therefrom something upon which to build a hope for information. "Your name, sir, if you please?" asked the youth, with his heart almost fluttering from his bosom, and bonding gracefully forward to hear the gentleman's reply, for a rising breeze was just then sweeping through the trees above their heads, and waking up the voices of their foliage. "Huntington, sir, is my name," was the answer. The boy looked almost wild with excitement. Huntington, did you say, sir?" he rejoined, not seeming exactly sure that this was the name he had heard. "Yes," replied the other; "Huntington, from Silver Lake;" and looking very anxiously at the boy, he added: "Can you, kind young friend, give me any information of my daughter?" "I can not with certainty say, sir," replied the boy; but late in the evening, when the sun was be- ginning to sink low in the West, I, with my grand- mamma, went forth to enjoy our accustomed eve- ning's ride, and as we approached a neat cottage near the river, we beheld a very aged figure bend- ing over the almost lifeless form of a young girl, whose golden curls fell in ringlets around her fair face." As the boy slowly uttered these words Col. Ifunt- ington turned deadly pale; a faintness and dizziness 1 THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUTE. 213 seized&him, which lasted several minutes; a sudden shivering ran through his veins as though he but too surely read in the boy's countenance his dar- ling's fate. Struggling, however, to compose him- self, he cried, "Tell me! tell me quickly, I conjure you, does she live, and is she cared for by strangers? Perhaps it may be my daughter," he murmured, as he almost reeled against the pillars of the latticed piazza for support. "She lives, and perhaps is yours, sj," replied the youth, who now went on to finish his story. ' With many entreaties my grandmamma and I finally suc- ceeded in inducing the old woman to resign her charge to us as better able to assume it. Still she showed in parting with the child a strange degree of emotion. She pressed her fondly to her aged bosom, hung upon every sign of hope or alarm, and called her 'a darling, whom the ruthless waves had brought back to her arms.' Several times I saw her dim eyes almost sparkle, again with youthful joy when she gazed upon that beautiful being, now lying in its helplessness before her." "Oh, my God!" cried Col. Huntington, interrupt- ing the youth; speak! speak! can it be my darling child; and has she been spared, or is she no more? Where, oh where is the dear little one?"For a moment he thus gave vent to his feelings, then rallying the self-command which bad for a time deserted him, he requested the youth to proceed with his story. page: 214-215[View Page 214-215] 214 SILVER LAKE; OR, "Well, sir, we wrapped the almost lifeless form warmly up, bore it to our carriage, carefully placed it across the cushi),ns, and made the driver hasten with all safe speed to my grandmamma's home. No sooner had we arrived than our fiamily physician was called, and in a moment more he was at her side doing for her restoration all that his art could suggest, yet confessing that there was not much hopes and that her life now hung upon a slender thread, while she lay utterly unconscious of all that passed around. The physician inserted, a tube into the stomach, and therefrom drew off the water she had swallowed while struaggling with the waves." Oh, merciful heaven!" exclaimed Col. Hunting. ton, "are there any signs of life left in the little being?" : ( A few moments ago I left her couch, where,.h:h" physician and grandmamma were anxiously watch-' ing her. At times she struggles and starts as though her mind was wandering. These symptoms, how- ever, the doctor does not seemi alarmed at, but he fears a nervous fever may follow, as he observes her fi'ail constitution." "Yes," said the Colonl., imploringly looking into the face of the boy; " can I not be permitted to look for one moment at the little creature, just to satisfy myself whether or not she is my little Clara?" At that name the boy turned pale, and almost trembled. "Clara," said he to himself; "Clara THE IELLE Of BAYOU LUIE. 2t5 Huntington. Can it be, and from Silver Lake? Mercy, mercy, how familiar is lhat name to, me." Then aloud : "And this is Col. Huntington, sir, is it, with whom I have so miraculously met? But this is no time to speak of that. Sir, I ask your pardon. Excuse me for a moment; I will instantly go to my grandmamma and ask lpermission for you to see the child. Will you please, si,; to walk into the library and be seated a moment until I return." By this time Col. Huntington had walked ip the steps, where the, youth had first stood, and now both passed across the hall to a superbly arrangred library. Col. H. warmly thanked the young gentleman, who, bowing politely, withdrew to the richly fur- nished apartment where lay the innocent and beau- tifal little sufferer. "H Itow pretty she is," said he to himself, as he stepped along upor tip-toe, fearing to startle her, for she seemedc now to breathe very quickly, and the color h:ld not yet returned into that face, white as alabastor, when but awhile since he had left it to attend the doleful cries of old-Chris. The doctor motioned to him to malke no noise. She had, he whispered, just passed through a severe paroxysm, which he had almost feared would end in spasms. The youth, now softly drawing near to his grand- mamma, and whispering into her ,ear, as!ked if a gentleman could be allowed to getjust one glimpse page: 216-217[View Page 216-217] 2 16 SILVER LAKE; 0R, of her, in order to satisfy himself whether she is the child he is now in pursuit of. "Oh, no, no," replied the grandmamma, not even stopping to ask the name, or under what circum. stances the request was made, but positively refus- ing all admission into the sufferer's room. Just at that moment the little girl turned from the position in which she had lain for some time, and wildly opened her eyes; at which act the doc- tor quickly sprahg to the couch, and soon saw that another paroxysm was coming on. "Dear little one," said the grandmamma, "how I wish we could relieve you. "Oh, doctor, she is growing worse, is'nt she?" asked the lady. "bHer symptoms, madam, are not much better; still, you know, as long as there is life there is hope. All rests upon quiet and good nursing. If we can only rouse her, and keep off these dreadful nervous spells there will be some chance; but if we can not, why, of course, you know what must and will natu- rally follow. ' {' Yes; but could we only save the little creature in her innocence I would feel so glad,"' answered the lady, whose voice was now a little above a whis- per. In her eagerness to restore the child, she for- :got how important it was to preserve an almost death-like stillness in the chamber. I have thought often, doctor, since I have been here watching this child," she continued, " how nice it would be for me to koep and adopt her as my own, for it is more THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 217 than likely that in being tossed into the stream those who were with her went down, since she alone was picked up where she had been washed by the pitiless waves." "I know," said the doctor, "you would like to keep her. She is a beautiful child, madam, and just one that I imagine you would set your heart upon as an idol. For that reason I feel' more anxious to try and restore her. Yet it would almost seem absurd to even think of such a thing, for her appear- ance indicates tender rearing. It will not, perhaps, be a week before her friends will claim her. But feelings of humanity have their claims, too, upon my heart, and I must still try, for I know that some being is now anxious for her, though an utter stranger to me."' CHAPTER XXXII. WALTER AND HS GRANDMAMMA -T-HE PORTRAIT. As this conversation was passing over the uncon- scious child, the youth stood almost spell-bound. That name! I How often had it been whispered in his ear by his beloved friend. But, alas! could he see her now, what sad feelings would be his! He raised his eyes from that couch. As he did so, they fell upon a picture, the likeness of a girl of just about P page: 218-219[View Page 218-219] 218 SILVER LAKE; OR, the same age. "Oh, how striking is the resem- blance," he said; " indeed, it looks the very same. Yes, the very mouth, nose and cuarls. Nay, the whole cast of countenance is exact. How strange! I am perfectly confounded." The grandmother's eye caught sight of the boy's reverie. "What is it, my dear, that so much at- tracts you?" ("That likeness, grandmamma," said he.!"How very striking it is. Just look. If it had been taken for her it could not have been more perfect." "I observed it, too, my boy," replied his grand- mamma; (' yet could not conceive how there could be any connection between the two, and therefore I did not speak of it." '( But, grandmamma, the gentleman in the libra- ry, who waits to know if he can only look upon her in order to see if she is his? [ will bring him in as quietly as possible," he said, " if you will allow me." "Walter, it will not do,"' she said, as still he in- sisted that, if possible, the gentleman should be allowed to see the child. But the physician as well as his grandmamma considered it unsafe for her to be seen, as she might by chance return to conscious- ness for a moment and behold him by her, which might excite her. At any rate it was best to be on the safe side. So Walter returned with a rather reluctant denial. He was well aware that whatever his grandmamma shad said must be abided by, let it be yea or nay. THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 219 So the gentleman took leave, with the understand. ing that as early as practicable he should be ad- mitted to the room. Very much disappointed he was at the refusal, but tried to make the best of it. Returning to the hotel, and going quietly to his own room, his thoughts passed through all the% strange incidents of the day, and of his lost child, whose absence had caused him so much anguish, as well as of the rest of the party, whom he had urged at parting to proceed on their excursion, and not to let him detain them, as he was very sure that with. in a short distance from where the horse started he would overtake him, and that then he would take the nearest route possible and get to the cave as early as they could do. They had complied, not thinking for a moment but that the Colonel would soon overtake the little animal and rejoin them. "Now," thought Col. Huntington, "I can not tell why, but I feel an interest in that youth such as I rarely have felt in a stranger. Perhaps it is the boy's own gentlemanly deportment that endears him to me. At any rate I shall be a little curious when I see him again, and ask something of his lineage. I am sure his father must be a gentleman. Yet, upon second thought, I remember he said the dwelling was only occupied by his grandmamma and himself, so I must infer that he is an orphan, solely' under the control of his grandmother." The Colonel had laid- himself upon his couch, not to sleep, but to try to rest and to compose his page: 220-221[View Page 220-221] 220 SILVER LAKE; OR, nerves. It was in vain. Tossing from side to side, his thoughts reverted to his fond wife, who had always wished to share every sorrow as well as joy of his heart, but who was now ignorant of the pangs he was undergoing all this dreary night alone. "Let me still hope," said he; "they say the darkest hour is just before dawn." As he raised himself from his pillow he beheld a faint streak on the eastern horizon. It grew brighter, until the dome of heaven kindled high up. He sprang from *is couch as the light poured in at the window of his chamber. "Ah, what a lovely cheering pros- pect," said he, as the songs of the happy little birds fell upon his ear. By this time they were making vocal the poplar trees which stood around the pub- lie square in front of the hotel. CHAPTER XXXIII. MNTA'S DEPARTURE. The morning was delicious; with it brightened every thing around him. He thought he had never seen a lovelier dawn. Light up the tall spires, the lofty dwellings, the adorned spaces around them, still green and gay with flowers and shrubs yet un- touched by frost, sweet violets, daisies, blue-bells, carnations, it fell upon a thousand objects fit to THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 221; charm the senses and inspire an involuntary joy. In a word, he was looking down on the prettiest part of the beautiful little city of F--. The sight infused into him fresh courage. Even at the anxi- ous thought of his wife, he consoled himself with the reflection that she was free from any present care. In thil, however, he was grievously in error; the lady was in not a little trouble, for scarcely had the cave party turned their back upon the springs when Miss Minta saw fit to regard that opportunity as most favorable to her meditated flight. She had accordingly avowed to Marsha her purpose with a boldness which would have made the hair of that stable dame stand on end, if such a thing had been possible to the nappy integument of a negro's skull. Marsha had, of course, hastened to communicate the amazing fact and the shocking impertinence with whicli the young imp had disclosed it to her. "Well, Marsha," replied her mistress, "you know what I have always told you about my servants; if they become dissatisfied, and feel that they wish to leave me for a new mistress or a new home, I will not, and do not wish to detain themn It matters not how much I am attached to my people, they must go if they desire it." "Yes, ma'am; I knows dat, ma'am, and so do Minta. I speak to her 'bout dat; but now as she's done got de notion in her brain, ma'am, dar will be page: 222-223[View Page 222-223] 222 SILVER LAKE; OR, no keepin' ob her. Nothin' but go 'long wid Biddy and Miss Bella Dustan is gwine to do dat gal." "Well, just tell her, Marsha, I am utterly op- posed to her going in this way; and try, if possible, to prevail upon her to remain until your master's return." "I did, missus; but she jist laugh in my face, and say Miss Bella done got plenty money, and will pay a big price for. her. 'So, you see, I'se gwine for sure,' said she, de silly creature." ",Tell her, Marsha, no money can purchase her from me. She has only to wait, and she can go free. I shall never sell her at any price. Now, reason with her, Marsha. She is led into this blindly, I know; and if I can only keep her until her master returns, then I will be better satisfied. I will not, however, try to keep her forcibly if she wishes to go." Marsha left her mistress' room and started in quest of the maid, whom she found conversing with Johnny O'Ryan. She had just told Johnny that "her time was most out at dis fash'nable waterin' place; for sure she was gwine 'long wid Miss Biddy and Miss Bella." The mention of Biddy's leaving was news to Johnny, who looked full into the face of the young Ethiol, saying, "By the holy St. Patrick, its little ye knows what ye're spaking of, ye dusky craytur. Sure, my Biddy does not talk of laving me. Och, I'll be afther seeing to that meself," continued he. THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 223 I'll see that she don't get out of both me hands, for sure Biddy O'Ryaan an be a dacent body if she chooses. But if she be afther laving me, I'll put two hawk's eyes into me own head and kape her; an' I'll put her where first I was afther finding her when she swallowed too much of that sparkling whisky when Pat 'Reilly was afther sparking her. But Pat is far av4y, and Biddy is all me own. Och, an' I know shb will not be afther laving her own Johnny. We two have loved the other these many days. Go, ye black baste, be afther getting out of me way, tellin' me such tidings. Be off wid ye, or I'll knock ye'r high turban off of ye'r head wid both me fists." Thus spoke Johnny, who was perfectly enraged at Minta's news. Minta was discontented at Johnny's angry looks and threatening manner toward her, and retreated in some haste through the folding doors, which stood ajar. She had been bearing and bore off with her a small waiter, upon which she had placed a luncheon for her mistress, for it was the hour when she usually partook of those nick-nacks provided as a noonday repast for the boarders. Mrs. H. had declined the usual summons, because she missed Clara so much, whose little figure always had the privilege of the table. All of the children deemed it a distinction to be permitted to appear there and feast with the grown people upon all those minor dainties, which seem rather a preparation or intro. duction than a dinner. There, while their elders page: 224-225[View Page 224-225] 224 SILVER LAKE; OR, chatted and nibbled, the little ones stuffed them- selves with nuts, cake, raisins, candies and fruits, and then ran off in frolicsome play. All had filled their accustomed beats at the long table except Clara Huntington, who was missed. Her absence was lisped by every little tongue, for she was the idol at the springs this season. "What a dear, good child Clara is!" went the rounds of the mothers and grandmammas who sat watching the little ones that were making so hearty and unwholesome a meal, which nothing hindered from becoming a direful surfeit except the sharp appetites with which their wild and incessant sport ever since breakfast had abundantly provided for them. The stomachs of children are scarcely less wonderful than those of ostriches. Minta, the maid, hurried to her mistress' room, placed the waiter upon a small table there, and then J started toward where she saw Marsha sitting, with her sewing in her hand, making a dress or apron for little missus, who, she said to herself, would in a few weeks be left at the boarding school, so that it would be a very long time before they would all see her again. The old woman sighed at the thought of parting with her little mistress. She thought of Silver Lake, where Hy was, and all the fondest recollections of that haply home crowded back into her imagination. Yes, her neat, white cabin; what a dear place that was!"There's no place like home," she said, " as missus' song goes; and so goes THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUTE. 22-' dese toughts of mine wid de lines so purty. I lubs dat beautifulest place down dar; dey has all dis heart wish for. Hy always hab his pigs, his hogs and cfhickeha, jist so many as he please; and his truck patch, and his cotton patch, too; and his cot- ton bin always ginned/long wid massa's, too, and put up tight in his bale; and when massa's done shipped, God bless your heart, why Hy's shipped, too; and in a little or no time de ole nigger done got his nm ey for him, and do jist as he please wid it. You knows dis, gal, jist as well as I does, and still you let some strange white folks come 'long and tell you some uder big story, and you is done ready to b'lieve dem If dey say dat sun yonder what you see shine i; made out'n blue cheese in- stead ob goat's milk, why you jist b'lieve its so; I knows you does." Here Minta raised a loud laugh at "Marsha's highflutin' talk," as she said. "I tink you mus' be spoutin' dixion'ry, kase I done heard massa say folks b'lieves de moon done made ob green cheese." With this the girl looked around much elated at Marsha's awkward blunder and her own triumph- ant correction of it. Marsha's counsel had been given without avail, as she reluctantly related to her mistress. ( I done seed dat gal, and nothin' but go will do her now, missus. So let her try for herself; den when it hab got too late she will turn round and look way down to our good home down Souf, whar I longs to be. page: 226-227[View Page 226-227] 226 SILVER LAKE; OR, I done tell her, too, missus, dat when she once leab you, she better keep agwine, and nebber look back at missus, nor nebbei speak to Hy or me neider, kase I tell her she nobber see Phil no more. And for one moment she hel' her head down, and looked sorter troubled like; but in de next breaf, bless you, ma'am, de gal say: 'As to Phil, if he don't come arter me an' lib in anuder land, I'll jist tink dar is as good fish in de sea as ebber was cotch out ob it; and dat is my 'losophy, as uncle Hy used to say. Den she lef me standin' stock still, an' a feelin' ob melancolly come ober my buzzum, and I kinder cried to part wid de critter when she seem so stub- born hearted an' so gulled as she was all ready to leab; and as she tell me farwell the big tears gush into my eyes and run down my cheeks like drops ob rain in a hot summer day." "So, Marsha, she is all ready to go. Tell her to take all with her that she has, and to remember she is leaving a kind mistress' services, who was ever ready to overlook her faults. I would rather not see her again." ^S. Thus, without more ado, Minta went her way. THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 22T CHAPTER XXXIV. COL. HUNTINGTON S INTERVIEW WITH WALTER- WALTER'S DISCOVERY. Now, as the early dawn opened into the light of day, Col. Huntington, after partaking of a light breakfast, started toward the stable yard, where he found the loquacious hostler currying down his horse with much ease. "Well, Patrick" said he, directing his conversa- tion to the hostler, " the top of the morning to you." "Good morning, sir; and plaze ye'r honor, sir, it is Patrick sure enough, and ye'r honor is mighty good to remember the likes of me." "Where, Patrick, have I met you?" inquired Col. Huntington, seeming a liitle surprised. "I presume you are mistaken, Patrick, I do not remem- ber to have been here since my boyhood-" "( And sure ye are Mr. Huntington, the Colonel, from Drennon Springs, arnt ye, sir? I knew ye'r face, sir, the moment I set me eyes upon ye." i Just so, Patrick; and when did you leave the springs?" asked the Colonel. "I arrived by the early mail yesterday morning, ye'r honor, sir," replied Patrick. " Wfll, I am glad to see any one that I have met befog," replied Col. Huntington. ' Thank ye, sir. The girl Minta, Mr. Hunting. page: 228-229[View Page 228-229] 228 SILVER LAKE; OR, ton, did ye know of her intention to lave her mis- tress' service, sir?" "Not at all, Patrick," replied the Colonel, seem- ing quite composed at the intelligence. "What is her idea for that, Patrick, do you know?" asked he. "( Plaze ye'r honor, I do not, sir; but only that Johnny O'Ryan dispatched to me that I should get a place for himself and his Biddy, ye'r honor, sir, and that the woman Biddy was aft her laving to go wid a young lady whose pockets are lined wid money; and the -two servants have been charmed wid the chink, and offered to follow her. Afther some persuasion she conAinted to try them; so Biddy O'Ryan was about to lave Johnny for awhile, and be afther making more, if he would only allow her; but Johnny preferred to try a situation where his wife could get more wages than at Drennon, rather than let her lave him." "Very well," said Col. H., starting again toward the house, for Pat's detail of Johnny's private busi- ness very little interested him; nor did the disap- pearance of his slave, Minta, give him any concern. "I must now proceed toward that stately granite house," thought he, as he walked quickly up the street, looking intently to see if the servants were astir or any commotion about the premises. Noth- ing, however, gave-any signs that the inmates of the house were yet on foot. The stillness alarmed him. He said to himself, "She is much worse I fear, and they are trying to THE BELLE -OF BAYOU LUIE, 229 precserve quiet around her. I shall again be disap- pointed in even seeing my darling; but I will hope for the best," he'said, as he firmly set his foot upon the nice marble step. t I will ascend and ring the bell, at any rate." Just then his eie fell upon a large white cat, with beautiful bla ck and gray spots upon her back. She rose from the thick, soft mat which lay upon the top step, drew up heraback to a complete arch, stretched her fore and hind paws to give full play to the graces of her shape, then look- ing into the gentleman's face, as much as said, , Sir, you must not make a noise, the child is very ill; and when [the Colonel gently pulled the bell, she turned her head, walked back to the rug, and slowly laid herself upon it, as though she felt grieved at the stranger's intrusion. "Lie down, you pretty creature," said Col. Hunt. ington; "I will not harm you nor her you seem to keep watch for." He walked to where she lay and stroked her down the back, with thanks for the instinct she seemed to show. The door was now softly opened, the visitor was admitted, and seated in the library, where he tenderly inquired into the condition of the sick child. Here he remained seated until the youth had hastened to attend his call, at the request of the grandmother, who chose not yet to appear. The Colonel met him with a warm shake of the hand and an apology for the very early call. He then renewed his anxious inquiries as to the child. page: 230-231[View Page 230-231] 230 SILVER LAKE OR, "I thank you, sir," said the boy, " she still lives, but no material change can be seen, except that her breathing seems much better, though after consider- able fever with delirium. We watched her the live- long night; our eyes never once closed," added he. "I never have seen my grandmamma so much in- terested in a stranger before. It is, indeed, very remarkable, for she seldom displays any feeling; but on this occasion there is a softening and tenderness which I can not realize." "Indeed," replied Col. H., ' I should not wonder if it is the child's extraordinary beauty that influ- ences hei, attracting her, and winning her to the gentleness and the intense interest which you say the lady seems to feel. Do you not coincide with me, sir?" "I really should not wonder if such were the case, for her beauty is remarkably striking," said the boy. "Then tell me, noble boy, by what name I may address you, if you please?" '"Walter, sir; Walter Glidewell," he replied. "(Pray tell me, too, if it may not seem rudeness, Walter Glidewell, something of your parentage?" "Not much- can I tell you, kind sir, of that; for very little I know of my father or mother. From my earliest recollection my grandmother has had control of me, and only when I am at college am I for a moment free from her exacting eye. She has many peculiarities, which I have, however, learned THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. .231 to humor; therefore I get along nicely. But other boys would be apt to fail where I am sure I happily succeed. She never speaks of my father or mother to me, or if she does, it is always in a mysterious way, leaving me to infer that something very dark hangs over their life and my own." a' Indeed," said Col. Huntington, much interested in what the youth was telling him, cc Walter Glide- well is a very familiar name to me." 'Walter Glidewell Hightower was my father's name; but from some cause or other the last name has been dropped from mine." As he thus spoke, Col. IEuntingtot rose to his feet, and seemed very much excited. Walter Glido- well Hightower, my God! my boy!" he exclaimed, "that was my foster-brother's name; his who was- nursed upon my own mother's breast, and was to me all that an own brother could be. Is it possi- ble? Can it be that I now behold in you his son?" Here he clasped the boy fondly to-his bosom. The youth returned the embrace and said, while the warm tears flowed down his cheeks. 'How strange, sir. There hag seemed to be a mystery about my life; I knew not what it was. My parents names were rarely mentioned to me; and when they were spoken of, were as quickly hushed, while some other Subject was introduced. I have often wondered what it meant, but I had none-to tell me." "Well, Walter,; I have long sighed to know the fate of my much loved brother. I must not indulge page: 232-233[View Page 232-233] 232 SILVER LAKE; OR, these womanly tea s, which it seems almost impos- sible for me to restrain at this unexpected moment. For meeting you now carried me back into my childhood." "Tell me, my kind uncle, if I may be allowed thus to address you; tell me something of my pa- rents." "Then promise me, my boy, that this interview shall be kept firom your grandmamma's knowledge. She has done credit to herself in the rearing of you, and is, no doubt, devotedly attached to you. Now, do nothing to incur her displeasure, and do not cease to love her, and to show your gratitude on every occasion. Yet it was througlh her unwise management and her interference, soon after your father had taken to his bosom his youthful and lovely bride, your mother, her only child, that the deplorable events came about, which she has been fain to conceal from you. Accomplished, beautiful, amiable, your mother fondly loved her husband, and she in turn was the very apple of his eye. Ah, never was there a nobler pair united in the bonds of affection. But, alas! Walter, strange to say, that unnatural mother camo between those young hearts and severed them. Ever after, riot only your birth, but that of a darling little daughter, had come to unite them still more closely." "What, uncle? I a sister? Good uncle, had I ever a sister? Where, oh where, is that dear thing now, that I could love so dearly? Speak, my THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUE. 23$ uncIe? Tell me, does she yet live? Was she not fair? She must have been lovely. How strange it seems to me. A sister! That name falls so sweetly upon my ear. Ah, can it be that I once had a sister? But it was too much, sir, too much happi- ness for me to enjoy. Such a mother, too! Where) uncle, oh where has she gone? Like that little bud she bore, did she bloom but an hour, then- pass away? Ah, could they have only stayed for me to love! And a kind and manly father, had I? What cruel destiny tore him from us? Merciful heaven!' that heart must have been made of stone which, could hurt them. How could the holy angels have permitted such a purpose to prosper? What evil genius could have taken possession of that woman's heart? But I must not complain nor reproach her. Yet hard is it to forgive such ill deeds, and those. who set the inhuman roots will some day gather the fruit." "No, no; keep still, Walter, my boy. Do not mention what I have revealed to you. I hope that dreadful spirit has departed from her. Ere this she may have been brought to repentance. "What had my father done, uncle, that he de- served such cruel treatment,?"' "Nothing, Walter. That mother was in quest of a millionaire for her daughter. His reputed wealth reached her avaricious ears. She thought it would J serve to carry out her own plans. It was an equal, page: 234-235[View Page 234-235] Z Ol Ol5JUV. J1LJAJXLL J V, L and, at first, a happy match, for they loved devoted- ly; and their life would have been one of continued harmony, peaceful and quiet. But the supposed great inheritance of your father proved illusory; his paternal estate had been greatly overrated. My father had children, and between these there was an equal division as each one arrived at manhood. The foster child shared alike with his own; but this addition still left your father far short of the opu- lence which your grandmother had expected, and in her disappointed cupidity she seemed to have con- ceived against him the bitterest hate, to satiate which she was willing to sacrifice even the happi- ness of her daughter. "In due course of time this mother influenced the young couple to travel, and to spend much of their means abroad. She encouraged them to a rate of expenses under which their resources melted away. By this means, and through her judicious manage- ment, your father's property was well nigh ex- hausted. Then her next aim was to bring into the family the discords which pecuniary distress easily produces. Her daughter's circumstances became reduced; her son-in-law was made to seem profuse, und even profligate. By and by that fond wife was made unhappy. The next step of the callous hearted mother was to bring about a separation, and finally the struggle between the mother and affection for her husband was more than the young wife could TaE BELLE or BAYOU ,tIE. 235 bear. She soon, too soon, sank into decay and ill health, and finally died a victim to a broken heart. And now, Walter, much time has passed since then. I can not relate all. At some future day, some other meeting, I will tell you more. In the mean- time speak of me as a stranger; do not let her know even my name, for she will instantly think of the past. . Be guarded, then, Walter, I charge you, for many reasons. These I will make known to you as occasion shall permit; meantime be silent." "I will, sir; I will promise you that,". said Walter. "And now, if possible, boy, I must see the little girl this morning. Go to your grandmamma and say to her that a gentleman desires much to see the sick child." "I will, my good uncle," answered the youth, as he stepped quickly toward the hall door, then disap- peared. Noiselessly entering the chamber where the little girl was lying quite composed and sweetly sleeping, he soon discovered that her symptoms were far more favorable; so he read in his grand- mamma's face, for she had a satisfied look and smiled pleasantly at him as he entered the room. "Oh, grandmamm'," said he, "I hope the patient is much better; she seems very quiet and sleeping sweetly. Now, can not that gentleman come and just get one look at her while she sleeps? He waits patiently in the library to have your decision," page: 236-237[View Page 236-237] 236 sILVEBR LAKE; OR, Thus asking, Walter looked wistfully into the old lady's face. "I can not see how I am to admit a stranger to the room yet," answered she. "He ought not to ,ask it; it right suddenly rouse and excite her." So, saying she stood very thoughtfully looking at him, and seeming a little perplexed at such a request. But the look of irresolution soon passed into one that boded, by a gathering frown, an angry refusal as close at hand. Walter saw and hastened to deprecate it. He murmured imploringly, "But please, grandmamma, let me beg you to consent. It will so gratify the poor gentleman, whose anxiety must be great, indeed, as he lost his child yesterday, and hopes this may prove to be she." "Well, Walter, I can not," she said;, "for do you know that as the child seems better my heart more- fondly clings to the dear little one." {' But, dearest grandmamma, it is not possible that you would wish to keep from this gentleman his heir, his own child? How unnatural and cruel that would be should she prove to be, as is quite likely, his." "But, Walter, she is so pretty, so very like my darling Alice. Her features are almost the same in every point. I can not keep my eyes off of the innocent little one. But go tell him, Walter, that he may come. No, stop," she said in the next breath, changing her mind;. "tell me his name, the EL,.zo. . THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 237 stranger's name, before I allow him to come. He must give his place of residence, too; there may be some imposture about this," she added, allowing play to her suspicious disposition as the easiest way to give herselfan excuse for retaining the child. "But, grandmamma, I will ascertain what his name is at some other time. He gave me the name, but I am not very good. at remembering strange names. At all events, if you will allow him to come you will readily perceive that hebis a gentle-. man; his looks and deportment are sure pledges of that fact, and that is all that is required. When that is known of any one, one can not hesitate in taking his word as such." Thus said Walter, with all the confidence of manhood. Indeed, he pressed the dame so closely that she yielded, though reluct- antly, and told him to ask the gentleman up. So Walter ran quickly t) the library, and gave himself time scarcely to breathe before he and Col. Hunt- ington were noiselessly ascending the winding stairway, thickly covered with the heaviest Turkey carpet. Arriving at the top of the stairs, they passed through a long hall laid with the same rich material, over which to tread felt almost as if one were walking upon thick moss, so perfectly springy was at under foot. Traversing this hall they soon tame to the door of the patient; there they knocked gently, and in an instant they were admitted by a servant. page: 238-239[View Page 238-239] 238 SILVER LAKE; OR, CHAPTER XXXV. COL. HUNTINGTON ADMTTED INTO THE SICK ROOM. "Walk in, sir," said Walter in a soft undertone ; then, turning to his grandmamma, "please allow me, madam, to present the gentleman to you, of whom I have already spoken " The lady bowed rather formally, as. was her way with strangers. In the next moment her eyes turned to the couch where the little girl lay. "My God nmy God!" ejaculated Col. Hunting- ton, "am I once more permitted to behold my darling child?"Uttering but this he fell upon his knees at the side of the couch and kissed her again and again as she lay there sleeping, while the tears streamed down his cheeks like a gushing fountain. For the instant all caution as to her critical condi- tion was forgotten; but, luckily, it mattered not, as she did not awake at all of this burst of excitement, so heavily was she sleeping. The lady stood speechless at this meeting of the father with his lost child. Nay, she could not help feeling affected at his great joy over the beautiful little creature that lay so calmly resting. When he grew a little more composed he thanked the lady with all of the gratitude in his heart for the good care she had taken of his darling. "And that noble doctor, too. How can I feel gratefill THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 239 enough? How co I repay him for what he has done for the child? Where can I see that gentle- man?" inquired he. "Only remain a few moments, sir, and you will see him, as it is near is hour of calling. So be seated, if you please," she said, extending to him a chair. "Thank yotmadam," replied ,(ol. I., at the same time drawing his seat as near as possible to his daughter, and gently taking hold of her little hand as it lay on the outside of the white Marseilles quilt, then removing his hand to her forehead, and finding that a moisture had gathered there, "' Thank God," he said, this is all most favorable, and must not be allowed to be checked suddenly by any movement." This said, he adjusted the coverlet about her shoulders more closely, as though he was afraid of disturbing the repose which he knew she so very much needed, We hope," said the laSy, " that when she awakes it -will be to consciousness; and it will be well to keep her sleeping as long as possible, too." "Beyond a doubt, madam," he replied, still watching every movement the child made. The slightest stir of the body or twitching of the muscles seemed to startle him. / At length her sleep became perfectly sweet and motionless. As then, and not till then, his eyes wandered around the room, they caught sight of that fair face upon the wall. "What a familiar ex- * page: 240-241[View Page 240-241] 240 snIVER LAKE; OR: pression," he thought, " has thafgirlish face to me. I have seen it before somewhere. Ah, me, now I recognize it," he said; " the very traits of childhood. remain in the womanly face. Oh, that she could now speak to me from that cold canvass as in days when she, not the painting, but that living picture, spoke, when she was a fair young bride, and I wel- comed her to the holy altar. Yes, where they took their vows before high hgeaven, and I stood to wit- ness those vows. How he once loved to look into those dreamy violet eyes, and there read in their tender beams a heart full of love for him." His look now wandered back to the sleeping child, then again to the canvass upon the wall. '" 'Tis a fac-simile," he thought. ," Never were there two little faces more alike. The very same eyes as hers that sleeps there are looking down on her from that wall, like a twin angel from the skies. Ah, daughter, you little know of that shadow of your- self that is watching you so intently now, and seems almost ready to speak." These words were uttered aloud as he sat, he thought, alone, for he supposed all had withdrawn from the room, and left the father alone with his darling child. Indeed, they were really gone, all but Walter, who sat concealed in the folds of the heavy damask curtains that hung from the ceiling and gracefully swept to the floor of the bay window. He, meantime, was plunged in like thoughts, and saying to himself, "What does she know of that THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 241 picture? Could they have met? Oh, no," he thought; {what can she remember of her on the wall- that same picture which I have loved to look at from my earliest recollection-that picture which is so life-like? And in childhood, when my grand. mamma would occasionally let me follow her into this room, which always seemed so sacred a place, and which, from some cause unknown to me, was always kept locked, what a cunning little rogue I was, for I would hide in the folds of these same our- tains and watch my grandmamma while she looked upon the picture and wiped away the tears as they would fall from her eyes; and when by and by she would miss me, she would-say, 'Walter, Walter,' no voice would reply; then she would say, TWhere is the child gone?' yet not a word would I answer; and then she would speak sharply, 'Walter, Walter, come here this moment!' then I would slyly creep out from the curtain and slink out of the room, and my grandmamma would say, ' I'll see, sir, that you do not get in here again for many a day.' She would then lock the door. Ah, it had such a sad, clicking sound! And then I, like a cowed little cur, followed closely behind her to be sent off to my owL little lonely room, there to do pennance the rest of the day, and perhaps not be allowed to come out to tea or dinner, which ever meal came first. But, thank God, those little troubles are over. I do not have to be punished any longer. Oh, now I know page: 242-243[View Page 242-243] 242 SILVER LAKE; OR, better. I have learned to be obedient and respect- lo ful to her, and I am proud to have learned it." Just as these thoughts were passing through Walter's mind, the child seemed to move with a new strength, and presently opened her azure eyes, then gazed around the room as if a little bewildered, then looking into her father's face said, in her natu- ral tone, "Papa, dear papa! I do not see mamma. Where is she? and Minta and mammy Marsha? Tell me, where are they all? And Hy away? Where is he, too?"Thus she talked, at the same time nestling closely to her father, as though a sudden shivering ran through her veins. "WellI," said her father, " they will all come by and by. Keep very quiet, love, you have been a little sick. You are better now, but very weak, and need rest and quiet." Here, trying to turn herself in the bed, her eye met that of the picture on the wall. "Oh, how pretty!" she exclaimed, with her eyes all aglow. "What a darling little girl. I never saw such sweet eyes before. Tell me, papa, tell me who that darling picture is? Did I ever see it before?" "It is a strange painting to you, my child," he replied. "I hope, dear, you will keep quiet now. You are too weak to talk much," he said, rather evading her questions. "Then some day you will, I know, tell me about that little girl?" "Yes, my daughter, when you are stronger I will THE .BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 243 talk all day to you, and tellyou many things; but now be perfectly still." "At that request from her papa she turned, and, closing her eyes, was in a few moments again sleep- ing sweetly. By this time the doctor came, and the usual con- versation of a sick room passed. His prescription was taken to the druggist, was nmade up, and soon administered by the lady, who seemed highly grati- fied when the doctor promised that this medicine was all that should be necessary, and that in a few days the patient would be in a condition to travel with her father again. "Oh, don't speak of that, doctor," said the lady; "I feel sad at giving her up. But it may be her father will let her stay with me?" looking at him as she uttered these words. " Ah, Aadam, replied he, ' it would seem no more than gratitude in me to do so; but you must know the feelings of a parent toward an only child, and th at, too, a daughter." CHAPTER XXXVI. THE GRANDMAMMA IN TEARS. Here the Colonel was interrupted by a burst of tears from the lady. "Ah, yes, yes," she sobbed; 'an only child, a daughter, a darling little girl?' page: 244-245[View Page 244-245] 244 SILVER LAKE; OR, And she gasped out these exclamations as if a burst of anguish the deepest was now, for the first time, forcing a vent to the lips from the overcharged heart. Perhaps even these intimations of passion, quite beyond the apparent occasion, would have' been checked by pride had she dreamed that any one present comprehended them. Col. Huntington did so at once perfectly, and, generous minded and tender hearted, was deeply moved by what he saw. He now tried to divert her thoughts from the past, which he had unintentiotl- ally recalled, for he plainly perceived that she re- pined over her wrong and unwise course, and had sorely repented long ago. He felt compassion for the woes he knew that heart of hers must some- times feel, the remorse, the deep regrets that had come too late for the injured; so that now it re- mained with only her God to lighten those heavy burdens which she had so long ago brought upon herself, and which were pressing her heart down with such anguish at times. He soothed her, there- fore, and made her calm. When he had succeeded in doing so, she pressed it upon him to remain at her hquse with his dear little girl, and not take her away until the last moment. To all this he finally assented; and after giving to her physician a hand- some remuneration for his kind attentions, parted from him with many expressions of gratitude, many wishes for the success and honor which he had, in THE BELLE OP BAYOU LUIE, 245 the case of his daughter, had such ample proofs that the doctor deserved. A few days had now elapsed. Clara was still improving, and soon grew so much better that she could go from one room to another. For the time she and Walter amused themselves in the library, until it was now the last day they would be to. gether. "I am to start to-morrow, Walter," said she. "How sorry I am that you are going," replied he. "I shall be lonesome, But then I shall only stay a week after you are gone. My vacation expires then, and I go back to college." "Of what college, Walter, are you a student?" asked she. "Of that of Red Church," he replied. "The College of the Red Church," exclaimed Clara. "Bless me, why did you not tell me that sooner? Do you not know Dulzeeka Jus, my friend?" continued she, her eyes beaming with ex- citement, and her cheeks coloring to a deep cherry. "I do; ho is my best friend, and a noble boy,' said Walter. "Here is a letter that I received from him to-day," cried he, holding it up as he drew it from his side pocket that she might see the address. "Oh, you naughty boy!" cried Clara, laughing, and perfectly delighted at seeing the beautiful hand that Dulzeeka was already writing. s Oh, how I wish I could see him," said she in all the artlessness of her nature. "But won't you have some news tot page: 246-247[View Page 246-247] R EV3 V JVJJLo JUJUt , ' VJ tell him, Walter; that you met papa and me away here*? What will he think?" ' Yes, I will tell him I met you, Clara, and my uncle, too," said he in an undertone, and looking about as though he feared some one would overhear this conversation. "Your uncle, Walter? What do you mean?" "Yes, my dear uncle, Clara. My father's brother." "Why, you astound me, Walter. Papa, my dear papa, your uncle? How can it be? Please tell me, Walter, at once." "But stop, Clara, I must beg that you will not speak of this strange news. Keep it, will you? I promised my uncle that I would not let grandmamma find it out. And there is something else, too, that I am to know; but don't you speak of. this either." What it is I must ascertain before my kind uncle leaves here. But stay, I am, afraid to ask him. Won't you do o for me? Then I will tell you a secret some day," said Walter in his boy- ish; frank way. "Well, what must I say to papa, Walter?' asked she, looking into his face earnestly. Just ask him whose that picture is in the room you occupy." "Well, I will," replied Clara, "especially as I want to know, too. Is'nt it beautiful? I wonder if he knows, for'he is a stranger here?" "Yes, he does know. And remember he turns out to be my uncle." THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 247 "How strange that is, Walter. What curious things turn up in a person's life. Who would have thought of papa's being your uncle, or yourknowing Dulzeeka? Well, I am perfectly amazed, I must say. Now tell me how Dulzeeka looks, Walter Has he grown? Did you ever hear him speak of Silver Lake or of" (she was just going to say her. self, but blushed and said) "Estelle; his sister?'" "What makes you blush, Clara?" said Walter, looking quite cunning. I have heard him speak of Silver Lake, and of you and his sister, as often as I have fingers and toes," said Walter. "Oh, excuse me, I meant very often," he continued, correcting the commonplace expression he had used to her. "Yonder comes papa now," said Clara, looking into the hall. "Shall I ask him in your presence Walter?" "Yes," said Walter; "I will just be looking at this book," saying which he went to a shelf and took down and opened a volume as he heard the footsteps of his uncle in the wide hall. CHAPTER XXXVII. CLARA FINDS A BROTHER. Just at that moment Col. Huntington entered. "Well, my children, are you amusing yourselves in reading or in telling fairy tales?" asked he smiling, / . . , b page: 248-249[View Page 248-249] 248 SILVER LAKE; OR., and imprinting a kiss upon Clara's cheek, whiTe he laid his hand kindly upon the shoulder of Walter, who had meantime advanced to meet him, too. "We were talking, papa," said Clara, "about the Red Church College; and Walter knows Dulzeeka,. too," she said. Then reaching up to her papa, she added: "Please let me ask you something. Whose is that beautiful picture in my bed chamber, papa?"' Col. Huntington was silent for one mement, then turning to them said: "Come and sit by me and I will tell you. But can I place confidence in you? And will you promise that neither of you will reveal this while you are in this house? It seems hard that you have never been told of this before. That picture, my boy, is that of your mother, of her whom I told you my brother married." "Is that so, my dear uncle? I once hoped that she might yet be alive; but you said she died 'of a broken heart. Oh, how beautiful she must have been!" "Oh yes," said Clara. "'Papa, Walter says I look like that pretty picture?" "Did he, my dear? Then he did detect a resem- blance?" "i But, dear uncle, you told me I once had a little sister. Now, tell me of her, too." "What, papa, did Walter have a sister, too? Ah, why did not I have a brother to love me, dear papa?" said Clara, looking fondly into his face. TIE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 249 'You have a brother, my daughter, in Walter Glidewell Hightower." Walter sprang to his sister's side, fondly pressed her to his bosom and kissed her. "Thank God, my sweet, my darling sister, that he has spared us to meet on earth! May heaven smile propitiously upon you! M-ay not a care or sorrow ever intrude upon you! May our mother look down from above and help me to watch over 'my sweet sister, all that I have to love 1" "My brother! my brother!" exclaimed Clara as she shed tears of joy. How strange that I did not know this before. What does it mean, papa? she said, addressing her father. "You never told me I had a brother. I did not know that you had a eson.'" "No, my daughter," replied Col. Huntington, I never told you that you were my adopted child." "Adopted child, papa?" asked Clara with much astonishment. "You and mamma have loved me as your own." "We do, my daughter, and ever shall, I hope, until the day of our death. And may you, mean- time, be as great a comfort in our declining yoars as you have been through your childhood,' { But, papa, I do not want you to love me all; let my brother have a share in your heart, wont youn?" she said, looking winningly in his face. ok win page: 250-251[View Page 250-251] 250 SILVER LAKE; OR, Yes, daughter, I already love Walter as a son, and regret that I can not have him with you." ' "' Nay, papa," said Clara, "do not speak of a separation; it would be cruel to part us soon as found. "Remember, sister," said Walter,- in his gentle serene way, "I have to go to school; I have my studies to finish. Then you must be at school, too, you know." ' Yes," added her father, "it will be impossible for you to be with your brother for some time yet, though occasionally he will visit you at your board- ing-school. Wont you, Walter?" a Oh, certainly, sir. Every vacation shall be di- vided between my sister and my grandma, who, of course, has a claim upon me, and a very strong one, too, I think, for I was a wayward boy, and gave her much trouble in raising me." "It would really be a pity to separate you, my children, for several weeks. Perhaps your grand- mamma, Walter, will allow you to accompany us to the Springs and thence to the village of P--. We , will only stay there a few days, while we make ar- rangements regarding Clara's entrance into the seminary. I have a mind to see her and propose the plan to her. Upon second thoughts I will. i Then, Walter, you can go under my protection as : far as the college of the Red Church, when we re- turn to Silver Lake. What say you? Would this arrangement meet your wishes, my boy?" X, THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 251 i"Yes, sir," answered Walter, who seemed de- lighted at the thought of being allowed to be a little while longer with that loving and new-found sister. "Shall I call grandmamma so that you may speak with her about it, uncle?" "If you please, my boy," said he. "Ask her to} be so kind as to come to the library. You know; Walter, my object in at first requesting you not to, give her my name was that of not letting her know that your sister, Clara, was only my adopted child. I feared lest, perhaps, if she ascertained that fact she might give, me some trouble about the child, and that finding Clara was her grandchild, she might think her claims were stronger than mine. But now, Walter, I think it will do just as well to tell her who I am. For she seems a very different wow man from what she was in her younger days." Walter proceeded in quest of his grandmother, to deliver his uncle's message; which she unhesitat- ingly complied with, and soon joined Colonel Hunt- ington in the library. In a few moments the two children bounded away through the long hall, to the balcony, where they found old tabby stretched at full length, sleeping, in the mild rays of the autumn sun. Then softly stroking her upon the back, and lifting her to her feet, causing her affec- tionately to return their caresses with her purring notes, and slowly walking around at their feet, wag- ging her tail and looking instinctively into their faces.. page: 252-253[View Page 252-253] 252 SILVER LAKE; ORB "What a beautiful animal she is, Clara," said Walter. "She is old, too; older than you or me. Grandmama has often told me her antiquity, and always sighed deejy when the old creature would come and lie at my feet." ",What made her sigh, Walter," asked Clara, thoughtfully. "H wonder if her little girl didn't play with her, too, when she was small. Brother, let us ask her. Will you?" "Well," replied he, "we will; but you know grandmamma is a little peculiar about some things." 'But, Walter," said she, "1 am not a bit afraid of grandmamma. Wasn't she so very kind to me when I was sick? Indeed she was, sweet sister; and I love her much for that, too," replied Walter. But you know I can not approach her with that easy familiarity with which I can already approach my good uncle." "Nonsense, brother," said Clalra; "you should not feel such restraint. It is wrong, I think, and ,let me beg you to lay it aside in future." While this conversation was passing between the 'two children, they looked toward the other end of the balcony, and observed Colonel Huntington ad- vancing toward them. "Oh, papa," said Clara, "isn't this the prettiest cat that you ever saw?" At the sight of the friendly cat, Colonel Hunting- ton appeared somewhat reflective. - I have seen her before, my children, and under THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 258 other circumstances. Oh, yes, mry daughter! that very same cat met me, many a time, when I came with your father to see your mother; and she then was active and sprightly, but a few years has made her dull and somewhat inanimate; like every other freature in life, she shows the marks of time; her beautiful black spots have begun to whiten, and afttr a while she will become listless, and, with old age, she will pass away. Your mother was a girl of about seventeen," continued he, looking at the cat. r She watches you, as though she noticed the resemblance to the once familiar face, as though she instinctively knew you as one of the family." Well, uncle, what conclusion did you and grand- mamma arrive at regarding my taking the journey With my sister and yourself?" asked Walter, rather changing the subject. "She gave her consent, Walter, to your going with us, and remaining until I set out for our sunny home. She was sadly affected, too, when she found out who I was, and that Clara, the dear child whom she had been nursing so tenderly, was the infant of her darling Alice, who lies sleeping in the grave. She wept remorsefully for the cruel conduct she had practiced; so much that I almost regretted the dis- closures I had made to her. She said that she could not see either of you again until after tea, when her mind would, perhaps, be somewhat composed regarding the strange and unexpected appearance page: 254-255[View Page 254-255] 254 SILVER LAKE; OR, of her grandchild, who had been reared away from her, in distant lands." "Poor grandmamma," said Walteu; "she has a good heart, after all." "Oh, yes! she repents sorely of her impulsive acts. Therefore, my children, you must bury the past. Blot out from your minds the wrongs you have but so recently known of your parents' sad sufferings in our infancy. Never reflect upon her unwise doings, but love her, for your dear mother's sake. God has shown her the error of her ways, and awakened her conscience. She tells me that for months her mind was greatly disordered, and that, indeed, she was almost beside herself So let me admonish you, dear children, never to let theseo recollections disturb the respect which is due to a grandmother." Both, in the same breath, assured him that they would willingly and lovingly pursue the conduct which he commended, after which they separated to different parts of the house-Walter to make some arrangements toward packing for their jour- ney; Clara to arrange her golden curls, which the light breezes had disheveled, as it was near the time for tea, and her ringlets must not be disarranged then. The hour had arrived, tea being through, the group were sociably seated around the center-table in the library, when the grandmamma laid her in- junction upon Walter to write to her regularly after THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 255 arriving at College, as she-wpuld devolve it upon his uncle to do while they, were traveling. She knew it would be utterly futile to propose such a thing until Walter was settled at school; when at his regular occupations she knew his habits would become orderly as clock work. This caused a laugh from the party, especially from Clara, who archly exclaimed:. - . "I know that will be so, grandmamma, because Dulzeeka never fails to write to his mamma at Silver Lake." "Dulzeeka! replied her grandma. Who is that, dear, may I ask?" saying which sire looked very kindly into the little girl's face. "A neighbor of ours, dearest grandma," replied Clara, who is at the college with brother WaIter." And a nice boy, too, grandma," added Walter. "Then some day you must induce him to make the trip home with you, where we have such splen- did scenery, alluding to the purrounding hills; it will no doubt be delightful for the boy, if he- has an eye for the beauties of nature." Oh, brother! that will be excellent," said Clara. "Then you can both come to the seminary to see me, too." "Just so," replied her papa. "Do that, Walter, and your sister will not feel so lonely when away from her home and mamma." This little mark of attention from her papa to the page: 256-257[View Page 256-257] 256 SILVER LAKE OOI, loneliness in which she was by and by to be left brought the tears to Clara's sweet eyes. "Oh, never mind, sister," said Walter, reaching across the table and drawing her around to him in order to wipe the big tears which flowed down her cheeks. "Never mind. These are nothing but baby tears. You will out-live them, and by and by you will laugh to think what a little tender-hearted creature you were to blubber thus one of these days; you'll be a grown lady, and I and Dulzeeka will be men," looking rather cunningly at his uncle, who sat watching the affectionate manner in which Walter. caressed his sister, who could not help smil- ing through her tears, and in a few moments the clouds passed by; as in an April shower there fell a few drops of rain, then all was soon sunshine and gladness again. While they were sitting thus the old affectionate tabby was walking backward and forward, pur- ring much like the low sound of a sewing machine, and occasionally rubbing against Clara's dress skirts. "Oh, you pretty old pet," said Clara, "how I love you!" The cat looked up into her face as though she un- derstood what was said by Clara, as she stroked her back and took her into her lap again. "Grandmamma," said Walter, "how old did you tell me that tabby was?" c Older than yourself, son," replied his grand- THE BELLE OP BAYOU' LUIE. 257 mamma. "She must be now about eighteen," I think. "Oh, yes, madam," said Col. Huntington, i"I re- member seeing Iwr some eighteen years ago."- "Yes, yes!" relied the lady. When my Alice was a young girl we got tabby; she was a pet with the dear child. Your mother, children," she added, looking at them through her glasses, with eyes as keen as though age had not seen fit to dim their lustre in the least, though weakened much from the natural brilliancy of youth. "Then, you dear old tabby, I love you more than ever," said Walter, for I always made an idol of two things around this house, uncle--one was that fair painting on the wall in the I silent chamber,' (as I always called it) and the other was this dear old cat" CHAPTER XXXVIII. THE GRANDMOTHER'S TEARS. ' Walter," said his grandmamma, (rather wishing to change the conversation) " take this key; go to the sitting-room and bring me from the writing-desk a package which you will sea there; also, a long silken bag filled with golden coin, which has lain there these many long years. I have never had my page: 258-259[View Page 258-259] 258 SILVER LARKE; OR, hand upon it since first it wasplaced there by him." Here she raised her glasses to wipe away the tears which were fast falling down her cheeks. Walter went with a hurried step toward the sit- ting-room, and quickly unlocked the desk. There, in an under drawer, he beheld the treasure which time had made dusty with mould. He raised the bag; it burst into holes, through which piece after piece dropped upon the floor. But very soon cast- ing his eyes around, he found an empty basket of olden form, then cautiously stooping. to gather up the treasure, at the same time procuring the parch- ment, he carefully placed it upon the top, and re- turning, handed it to her. "Oh," said she, "this is yours, my children-a treasure which your grandpapa hoarded many years for my Alice, and, as she never got it, I now give it to you. Colonel, please take charge of it for them along with this copy of his will. You will find mine addedto his, with the devise of all my estate. Now, in case of my death, you will know what to do, Colonel My family die very suddenly; they have scarcely a moment's warning. Perhaps the same may be my fate; therefore, I am trying to prepare for a sudden death." "Oh, I hope not, madam," replied the Colonel, musingly." "Grandma," said Walter, whose heart was moved to tenderness at the thought, "you must not die." We can not tell, my boy, about these things," , a THE BELLE OP BAYOU LUIE. 259 'said she, again moving her glasses to wipe away the moisture which had gathered in her eyes. 'Grandma, dearest grandma, you must not, you shall not die, just as I have come to know and love you" said Clara, embracing her with the fondest affebtion. "Well, be happy dears," said the old lady. "I will not cloud your young brows, or give your hearts one sad throb." Here she, pressed them warmly to her bosom, and kissing first one and then the other. "Now, let us all be happy, dear madam,' re- joined Col. Huntington, " for life is short at best, and we should not borrow trouble," reading the sad thoughts which were going through her mind. "Yes, yes," she said. ".I know it is the best to look upon the bright side of things as they conme." Here the conversation ceased, and the little groups parted for the remainder of the night, after .wishing good night an'd pleasant dreams. Clara kissed her grandmamma, then her papa and her brother affec. tionately, and quietly went to her room, expecting early to be roused for her journey to the Drennon springs. *. page: 260-261[View Page 260-261] 260 SILVER LAKE; OR, C HAPTER XXXIX. COLONEL HUNTINGTON RETURNS TO DRENNON. The morning was looming bright and gloriously fair, when the horn of the stage- oach was heard, and Col. Huntington looked around to see that Clara and her brother 'were ready. The driver dis- mounted from his box, took on the baggage, and in little more than an instant the childrerkhad taken a sad leave of their grandmamma and were by the Colonel's side. The driver sang out "all ready," the horn blew one more loud blast, and rapidly they were' whirled away from the beautiful mansion. The grandmamma was left lonely and desolate enough as she went about some sad employment; no com- panion .but the old tabby cat, who, as she purred around, seemed to know they were all gone. A day's journey, marked by nothing that need be told, brought Col. HEIunttngton, Walter and Clara to the springs, and to a joyful meeting with their friends. Of course, it was presently necessary to relate all the strange incidents which had befallen them. We need not say that they were deeply in- teresting to Mrs. Huntington, and none the less because not a little wrapped in mystery. The for- tuitous meeting with Walter and his grandmamma, certainly made a singular sequel to the extraordi- nary freak of the pony's fight. THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE,. 261 It was most gratifying to Mrs. Huntington to embrace that noble looking nephew of her husband, the dear brother of her darling Clara; and as they told her of their grandmother and of her beautiful home the time passed rapidly, especially with the Colonel overflowing with even more than his usual gaiety of heart at the happy issue which God had given to all the troubles and dangers through which he had just passed. The party from the cave, too, had just arrived, bringing back only one thing of which to complain -that was the disappointment Col. Huntington had given them in not joining them there with his daugh ter. Amongst the many curiosities which they had pro- cured were specimens of the blind fish from tha river which flows through these caves-a darkly flowing stream, more fitly to have been named after that melancholy stream of the ancients-Styx. CHTAPTER XLE TnE VISITORS DEPARTING PROM THE SPRINGS. Autumn was already far advanced when the various parties began to disperse from the springs. It was high time, for that shining harbinger of grim winter too familiarly styled 'Jaock Frost,' was playing page: 262-263[View Page 262-263] 262 SItVER LAWE; o, havoc with all the charms of the place. The wide- I spreading foliage, which had afforded them such delightful shades upon the hill sides and around those sparkling wells; the verdurous canopies under which the joyous laugh and merry voices made the very welkin ring, were now changed from their deep green to the multltudinous tints with which autumn dyes the forest of the West and South, while bushels of brown and ripened nuts lay in heaps upon the ground ttering around the Those pretty, gay cottages scattering around the lawn were, one after another, vacated and left, with all those marks of disarray which a sudden deser- tion leaves behind it, as if to tell of enjoyments that have fled. Indeed, the place looked quite like a camp broken up or a banquet-hall deserted. Nor was it likely that these had not occurred between the many young. and gay now separated-- ", Sudden partings, such as press The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs Which ne'er might be repeated; who could guess If evermore should meet those mutual eyes, Since upon night so sweet so sad a morn could rise!" Among our personages, however, there are few of whose separation oui story requires that we should tell, saving only two of our special favorites, the gallant Alonzo and the fair Eveleen. Of what befell between the much-enamored Alonzo and the gentle Eveleen iDn the evening which they passed together, just the night before the general break-up tog THE BELLE OF BAYOU LIE. 2 at Drennon, and their own particular parting we can not reveal, because Cupid ,fluttered so stealthily around that he concealed the little manifestation Alonzo only chose to designate through the tender expressions of his dark hazel eyes and those which were exchanged' only by Eveleenrs kind looks, iot even bespeaking a gentler look than her natural expression We only say that our young folks parted with a mutual pledge-we know not whether tender or common place-that they would soon meet again at the impending nuptials of Alonzo's aunt and Mr. Laverde. On the morrow Col. Huntington and fimily, with Mrs. Evard, her daughter, and son, and serv- ants proceeded to their home. Clara, presently, was placed in the seminary, leaving her brother Walter with her parents at her uncle's, when she received daily visits from them. Meantime Eve- leen solaced herself on preparing a wardrobe for her visit to Silver Lake with her uncle and family, re- gardless of her sister Prude's protestations. So the elder'sister, seeing her failure to accom- plish her whims, gave up, and no longer tried to enforce them; and as early as arrangements could be effected, the Southerners commenced their jour- ney toward Silver Lake, but stopping at L-- until the marriage of Mr. Antonio Laverde and Mrs. Rovington was celebrated. , . . page: 264-265[View Page 264-265] 261 SILVER LAKE; OR, "' -CHATER XLI. I MRS. ROVINGTON'S MARRIAGE. It was now the Christmas holidays, when the capacious church of St. John's was brilliantly illu- minated. Every burner was turned in the costly handelier, .setting forth its most dazzling light. The effect was imposing throughout the edifice, the light falling upon the handsome festooning ever- greens arranged in emblematic order. A crowd had already wended their way and as- sembled in the body of the church, while others to the door. In an instant, from the first equipage, descended a noble and manly figure, giing his gloved hand to a still young and queenly-looking woman, who leaned upon his supporting arm, while her airy robes lightly played on the evening breeze, which was mild and soft-one which only seemed sent to add loveliness to the happy occasion. The bridal party reached the altar, when the cler- gyman arose with a blessing upon his saint-like lips. There they bowed themselves at the holy shrine, and vowed before high heaven to love and cherish each other through adversity and prosperity. Then placing the glittering jewel (a family gift to pos- terity) upon the finger of the bride, as sealing their BHE BELLE OF BAtVOU LOUID. 265 holy pledges, an humble and pure petition was sent up from the minister to guide the bride and groom through the journeys of life. The last bles- sing pronounced, the happy twain left the temple of God and proceeded to the mansion of reception proposed for them. To this succeeded several days, and all that round of .receiving and makirg calls which is so indispensable upon those glad occasions. These unavoidable festivities ran through the news- papers generally. This juncture, I need not add, was very pleasant to Alonzo, who accompanied his aunt and uncle to their Cuban estate. As, according to previous arrangements, the Silver' Lakq party joined them; and descending the river, they by and by arrived at the College of the Red Church. There Walter took a sad leave of the party and repaired to his school, where we leave the youth for a while with his friend Dulzeeka. In like manner we leave Mr. Laverde and lady and Alonzo Logan, who embark for the West Indies immediately on their arrival in the Crescent city. Sr page: 266-267[View Page 266-267] CHAPTER XLII. COLONEL HUNTINGTON AT HOME AGAIN. 'S Once more at Silver Lake. What changes are : manifest here! Are all well? Does the aspect of happiness still pervade as when they left No? 1 o the absence of one has seemed to disturb the former scene of sunshine and joy, as Mrs. Huntington wan- Jered around the mansion, giving directions to the servants and arranging every room which contained something to remind her of her household idol-her happy, darling little girl. Again and again she Found herself repeating (for our tender thoughts will often seek some remembered verse in which to ex. press themselves), familiar words of the poets: 'There's not a garden walk I tread- There's not a flower I see, But brings to mind some hope that's fled-- Some joy I've lost with thee." A separation she could only hope was for Clara's own good, nor must her guests be neglected;; there- fore a serene face, a bright smile must be worn. These thoughts soon forcibly sprang into her mind as she passed into the room where sat Eveleen alone in "'maiden meditations" though not like Shake- speare's imperial votaress, " fancy free." "My deat Eveleen! Why so thoughtful? Not homesick, love, I hope?" VI E BEjLLE or BAYOU LUIM. 267 Oh, not in the least, aunt. I was only wonder. ing if to-day's mail would not bring us tidings from home and dear mother. I know Charles must have written ere this, as he surely knows I am anxious about all at home. But, dearest aunt, I really think I exercise considerable philosophy. Justthinl, this my first visit, and I have not complained of the silence they seem to keep. Now, I know you will give me credit, aunt, wont you? Indeed I do, love. So it is quite a trial to be so far from home and amongst strangers; but after a few days this will vanish, and when you have made some acquaintances your time will pass off more pleasantly, I know. The aunt and neice now joined in a social ehat . and left the room for a promenade through the hall and on the balcony, arm clasped in arm, thence rev- turning to the parlor, where her aunt proposed some music, the same as it chanced to be that she played' for Alonzolat the springs. "Don't that remind you of bygone- hours, dear aunt?" asked she, after she had sung the-last line of "I'll think of thee." "Ah, yes, very much, my dear," she replied ;houghtfully. At the same time Eveleen saw dlainly she had recalled scenes in her aunt's mem. )ry which too naturally reminded her of her dear ittle Clara. "Yes," resumed Mr .I:Huntington. "In hearing, igtoh.- "In hoaring-, page: 268-269[View Page 268-269] 268 SILVER LAKE; OR) those words I am reminded of Mrs. Laverde, who loved them so much, and who, by the by, I hope will soon let us hear from them all. Eveleen became thoughtful. Her aunt quickly perceived her silence. It could not be Alonzo; but she dreaded lest the artless young thing should be indulging some wild fancy-some thought of the unworthy William Foster, who had been so marked in his attention to her the whole time they so- journed at Drennon. , Then, at last venturing, she said: ' Not of Wil- liam, dearest, will I allow you to think," drawing her closely to her matronly bosom, and placing her arm about her waist, " not Willie, dear; he is un- worthy of you." e Never fear, aunt," replied Eveleen, blushingly. "I have not spent many thoughts in languishing and repining for him. He, I do assure you, does not cost me many sighs ever sincee"-here she cut short her words and stopped, their utterance seeming a little confused. T'hen starting suddenly toward the win- dow, as though to look out for her uncle, who just then was seen riding up to the stile and was about dismounting, while Phil appeared and took away his horse Moro to the stable. jEveleen and her aunt started to meet the Colonel, trying which should win the first kiss; and as Eve- leen was the more agile, she became the victor. "Well, now, Eve, I must have another kiss for this -package." Saying this he held one up in THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 269 rather a teazing manner, and looking at the back of' it, went on commenting, '"What, what! Havana, Cuba! What does this mean? It is not a lady's, handwriting. I know Mrs. Laverde's hand-it is not her's. Then I know she would not allow her lord to write to young ladies so soon. Thus he kept laughing until Eveleen got worked into the fidgets, and blushed so deeply that, to relieve her, her aunt ran after him through the hall, upon the verandah, down the steps, through the yard, until all that dusky troupe of little darkies came rushing from the cabins to see "Missus and Massa in dere frolic, and Miss Eveleen's face all turnin' red and pink, just like de bush roses in de garden." At last their tor. mentor thought he had teased them enough, and gave up the package. With it Eveleen retreated to her own room to read her letters. It now being late in the evening, as they had taken tea before her uncle had gone to ride, she chose to remain in her room until the announcement of breakfast next morning. At the breakfast table her uncle informed her that Sadie Holstein and Estelle Jus would spend the morning with her, agreeable to a previous en. gagement. So, immediately after the family had partaken of the meal and left the room, Eveleen returned to her room, finished answering her letters, then dispatched Phil with her missives to Villa JLa Boeuf, where they were mailed. That worthy, though not quite a herald mercury" in either swift. page: 270-271[View Page 270-271] 270 SILVER LAKE; OR, ness or grace, yet if not by the aid of wings, by that of Moro's legs, went and returned almost as if he had flown, and resumed his service in the buttery and at the dinner table before he could well have been missed, and almost (to speak in Southernwise) as quick as expectation's tongue could pronounce the magical name of Jack Robinson, which stands in all that region (we know not for what exploit of immemorial rapidity) a byword of celebrity. The same morning, as Eveleen was seated closely by her aunt looking at a piece of embroidery which the latter was finishing to send to Clara, the niece said, rather diverging, as ladies will, from the sub- ject of which they had been speaking, "I think Sadie is a girl of sterling principles, and very origi- nal, too, aunt." "Yes," replied her aunt. 't She has an off-hand way of speaking peculiar to herself, though not at all disagreeable, but merely a little blunt; yet, after having been with her a few times, one becomes ac- customed to her manner and does not notice it at all." "Well, I do not mind it now, dear aunt, because I fancy she possesses a noble and true heart be- neath that exterior of oddity." "She does certainly, and I am glad you perceive it, dear; for your uncle feared she might seem to you at first rather singular than pleasing." "Oh, no," replied Eveleen. "And that young girl, Estelle. What a fine creature she seems! I think,- THE BELLE O1 BAYOU LUIE 271 by the way, dear aunt, I, shall have a perfectly de- lightful time of it in this elegant home of yours, Silver Lake. "I am glad to hear you say so, dear," replied her aunt. a We will make it as pleasant as we can for you . Just then the door bell rang. The expected com- pany was at hand, and before a word could have passed Phil hadlushered them into the library, where his mistress and Miss Eveleen were seated. Welcomes and greetings were warmly inter- changed, bonnets and shawls -were doffed, and very soon the conversation reverted to the invitation eards which they had all received to the wedding of Mr. Edward Pierce and Miss Thankful McLure. "What a pleasant time we shall have," said Sadie to Eveleen, after Estelle and Mrs. Huntington had proposed a walk through the garden to gather pan. sies from Clara's flower bed. "Oh, yes," replied Eveleen. "I know you will enjoy it. But you must remember that I shall be a stranger, and that it is not to be expected that I should enjoy myself as much as you." ( Why not? You must not be formal," said Sadie. is If you go with that determination, why, of course, you will not have much pleasure; but remember that yon are with Southern planters' wives and daughters, who are social, true and genial in their feelings, with hearts 'as warm and sunny as our native clime. We receive strangers with open arms, treat them as page: 272-273[View Page 272-273] Li ?5iJU IM JUAJMiLi tM) friends, and throw around them a halo-a charm- that they always cherish. We do not allow those coming from other lands to leave our's withered, frozen, like the icebergs some of them have left. No, no. The rays of our beamy sun melts the cold- est heart that chances to come to us. It infuses a glow into the chillest plant that may be set into our soil, so that it can never return to its own frostiness when once it has met our lights and heat. "Well, then, dear Sadie," said Eveleen, "such being the case, I can not resist those glorious beams of which you speak, can I? So I will take you at your word, and be transmogrified, as the rest have to be who come here." "I was not meaning to intimate," answered Sadie, in some confusion, 'that you had any need to be thus warmed into a new life. You are a child of the South ." "Thank you. Then in future," replied Eveleen, "I shall play the agreeable to all I meet here," smiling pleasantly at her visitor. 'That's right," said Sadie. "But remember not to be charming. If you be so to one I could name, you might infringe upon some one else's rights or hopes." "Oh, yes, that will do, Miss Sadie," replied Eve- leen. "I understand you. Look out, then, for that favorite victim of yours. I hope I will meet him. If I do, I will put on my sweetest smiles. And THE BELLE or BAYOU LUIE. 273 what then?".asked she, loudly laughing-to see how Sadie was entangled in her unguarded admission. "You did not understand me," rejoined Sadie, a good deal confused at finding that Eveleen had taken such advantage of her thoughtless words. "Never mind, Sadie," said Eveleen, delighted at the sport. "There is no getting out of this scrape, and I am so glad to have found you out." "Now, please, Eveleen, stop, and do not think that there's the smallest ground for this suspicion. It is not as you think. I have no particular favorite. I have made up my mind to always remain in the state of single blesse'dness, and have chosen the life of an old maid." "For mercy's sake, don't speak of it. I think it is the most miserable life one can choose!" said Eve, leen, recalling instantly to mind her sister Prude's professions of a like self-dedication to celibacy, which no man had ever been rash enough to ask her to renounce. The conversation between the two girls was now interrupted by the entrance of Estelle and Mrs. Huntington, each holding a nicely arranged bouquet to present to them respectively. "Well, aunt, we were just speaking of the wed- ding that is so near at hand." "Indeed! young ladies. I hope that you both anticipate being present on the eventful occasion." "Of course, Mrs. Huntington," replied Sadie. We would not miss it for worlds." page: 274-275[View Page 274-275] 274 SILVER LAKE; OR, SKI imagine it will be somoething very far above ordinary weddings," said Mrs. Huntington. Ed- ward's great wealth must call forth quite a parade. Then Thanky is very pretty and a boundless favorite with her family. I presume they will make it alto- gether a grand affair, for I have been told the invi- tations are widely extended, even persons from New Orleans are expected to attend." "Then, as there will be some display from a fash- ionable metropolis, it will be necessary that one should make no little preparation against being eclipsed," said Eve'een. "Oh, yes, indeed!" cried Sadie. (-Put on your best bib and tucker, and look as pretty as a pink and as killing as the three graces all melted into one beam-or blaze of loveliness." "Take care, young lady," said Eveleen. "Re- member what happened a few moments ago, will you? As she spoke her merry laugh and mis- chievous eyes told tales still more than her tongue. As before, Sadie began to blush, which, of course, betrayed her yet more to Mrs. Huntington and Es- telle, who presently joined them in the laugh, and declared that the mysterious cause of her confusion must be something remarkable, since they had never before seen her so embarrassed. On her side, too candid to feign an unconcern which she was far from feeling, the only solicitude seemed to be lest' the story should spread farther. Thkus she presently said, beseechingly: "Now, Mrs. THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 275 Huntington, please do not let the Colonel get hold of this. If you do, I shall not hear the last of it for a full year to come." "Get hold of what, dear?" asked Mrs. Hunt- ington. "How am I to conceal a joke which I do not understand? Make haste and tell me about it, for you know, dear, that I excel in both spreading the jest and keeping the secret of my friends." "I know you are admirable never to divulge a joke nor hide a secret of mine, and your good lord even surpasses you in giving to unfortunates like me, who are always getting into scrapes, the wonderful benefits of his left-handed assistance," said Sadie. Of the further conversation of that day history has failed to preserve even a fragment. Possibly it trod (as women are said to reason) in a circle and ended where it began-that is to say, consid. ering, under every imaginable aspect, the grand eventrnow only a month off that was for that space to keep swiftly going many a finger and all female tongues in the surrounding country. We mean, of course, Thanky and Edward's wedding, which was solemnized with great eclat at the mansion of the bride's parents at the appropriate tinme. The com- pany, the festivities and the enjoyment. that attended were more pleasantly witnessed than described. It was on this occasion that Leno Desha and Sadie Holstein again met, and with a view to doing so yet more frequently, solemnly vowed to each other before high heaven their intention to be joined to- page: 276-277[View Page 276-277] 276 SItVER LAKE; OR, gether in the holy bonds of wedlock at the opening of spring; and further, that after committing that fatal indiscretion, they would follow it up by taking a bridal tour either to Havana or to the coast of Florida. In either ecase they desired the company of Eveleen, and she rashly promised that she would certainly attend if her aunt and uncle could be drawn into giving their consent. C HAP TER XLIII. WEDDING AT SHADY SIDE. Eveleen was to officiate as bridesmaid. Large preparations were already going on at Shady Side. A dressmaker, reported to be a sublime artist, was employed in constructing Sadie's outfit, composed of the most expensive articles that the shops could pro- duce It would be delightful to describe the treas-- ures of her wardrobe-quite like reading the glories of the "Court's Journal" or the "Milliners' Maga- zine." But we are writing for an auditory in part masculine, and therefore inappreciative of the poetic raptures with which the souls of the softer and more rational sex are snatched aloft, when they are told of silks, satins, velvets, laces, embroideries, feathers, flowers, braids, bracelets and all such fatal things as make up the munitions and magazines, the artillery THE BELLE OF tAYOU LUIE. 2" and the small arms of all subduing beauty. With a sigh of pity, therefore, over the masculine stol. idity, in, behalf of which we must forego the adorn. ing our page with a passage so brilliant, we pro- ceed to humbler matters, almost with tears,.we will say nothing of the exquisiteness of that main wonder, the wedding robe, and not even drop a hint of the rest of the rich trousseau, although it included, among a multitude of miracles of attire, one par- ticular riding-dress and hat, over which all feminine beholders, after being at first struck mute with astonishment, presently burst into tender ejacula- tions of--- Oh dear, what a darling! what a beauti- ful dress! was there ever seen anything half so sweet!" Eveleen had readily procured the consent of her aunt and uncle to her going with Leno and Sadie on their bridal tour to IIavana, for which place it had been finally decided the spousers about-to-be would embark on the 4th of Maay. What joy it would be for them to meet their friends there so unexpectedly, without giving them a moment's wairning I Never beamed there a brighter morn than that of the secord- day of May--the bridal day. Sadie's h eart beat wildly, as waking up she realized the fact that the day of her destiny was come. Nature had put on for the occasion her most auspicious looks. The many-hued roses hung in scented clusters upon the twining limbs of the multiflora and other climb. 9 lib page: 278-279[View Page 278-279] 278 SILVER LAKE; OR, ers; the golden jessamine waved on all sides in gay festoons its odorous garlands; the orange blossoms fairly bore down with their perfumed weight the boughs from which they depended; the track was thickly inllaid with violets and the tiny cups of many other humble but sweet flowers ; while profuse honey- suckles, woodvines and sweethrier embowered the arbors and trellises or mantled the walls; the portres- ses glowed with hyacinths, tulips and all the earliest children of the spring, and high over all the magnolia lifted its glittering leaves and great white flowers, crowning the garden, the grove and the very forest. Everything, in a word, looked as if this season and this scene, along with all elte, had teen ordered ex- pressly for the glad occasion, or as though it had been Nature's own wedding day, not Sadie's. All the world of Shady Side was actively astir. Even the ancient darkies that had not hobbled from their cabins for weeks had this morning come forth to see their young mistress, receive a parting keep- sake from her hands and wish her much joy. That done with all affection they dispersed to their cabins again, many of them wiping away the tears which stole down their cheeks, and saying to each other, in their simple way: "Dat dere young lady would soon be gone from Shady Side, whar she had been raised. Dear chile f how de darkies does all lub her; anyhow, dey will miss her arter she's done married and gone long wid Massa jeno'." He must be mity good to dat chile/ said old m-ammy Chloe, '(kase I THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 271 lb her better dan dis life," and off the old creature vent to her house, giving. a deep sigh, to mourn, over her loss. And busy now were the, young servants. The octagoen room must be opened, the saloon filled withl seats, the windows thrown open that the fresh air might pass freely through. Indeed, this was the greatest day that ever had come' at Shady Side The household pet was to take her leave; the most important event of her life was at hand. There was, need to hurry, for the guests were now beginning to assemble. It was to be a morning wedding-a thing. quite novel in the South, where evening is usually preferred for. such. celebrations, either because its. friendly veil spares the bride's blushes, or that the might agrees with the olden eustoms, or perhaps seems to them more romantie. But, as we have before remarked, Sadie was not' a dreamer-one of those visionary girls, who imagined themselves hero- ines or princesses-just tlb reverse. She was a matter-of-fact girl, who liked everything natural and nothing f antastic; indeed, she was an exception to the general rule. She rarely indulged in. those works of fiction, which so often turn the heads of the young; her reading was historical, and was, of course' altogether such as the taste prevailing in the female world of elegance would pronounce "stupid and barbarous." But now eleven o'clock had arrived. The house, was filled, the minister came, a carriage drove up to page: 280-281[View Page 280-281] snLVER LAKE; ORT the stile, a remarkably handsome gentleman alighted and another followed; they entered the house and were invited to the lesser parlor, where the fair affix anced was seated, who extended her trembling hand while she was presented to his friend Alonzo Logan. What a surprise! What a thrill passed through the frame of Eveleen as Alonzo warmly pressed her hand, drew it within his own arm and bore her away through the long hall, followed by the bride and groom into the saloon and thence into the octa- gon room, where were assembled a large crowd to witness the marriage ceremonies. In an instant the minister arose to bless the happy couple and perform the marriage rite. He handed a diamond ring to Leno, who gently placed it upon the third finger of the youthful bride. They were then dismissed with a benediction and a prayer as man and wife, when suddenly Leno turned with the flush of youth upon his fine and manly brow, from which fell dark masses of rich brown curls around his forehead. Wea thought we had never seen a hand- somer face. Now rained upon the pair the joyous greetings, the cot'dial wishes for their long and happy union; with these fell thick and fast the kisses, of which even-the married gentlemen claimed a share in remembrance of their own bliss. Next an elegant repast was served up of the choicest cakes, creams, fruits and wines, to crown all which healths were quaffed from every goblet. And now the hour of departure arrived-an hour THE BELLE Ow BAYOU LUIE. 281 that dashed withsome sadness the general joy. The mother looked sorrowful, as mothers must; but the father, who had just given away his only daughter, looked happy, because her choice was regarded as a very wise one. As she now stood before those fond parents in the act of leaving her parental roof, they showered blessings upon the young heads of both. Finally, the last embrace was given, and in an in- stant Leno, Sadie, Eveleen and Alonzo were driving rapidly to the shipping, where they would take steam for New Orleans, and thence embark for Havana. The reader will ask, how did Alonzo happen at Shady Side so unexpectedly ? Well, we will explain it. Mrs. Laverde's law suit required attention-at Winnsborough, but as she did not deem her own personal presence there at all important, she had in- sisted that traveling would, perhaps, benefit Alonzo, that he must go and represent her. Not unmindful of what the trip might bring about for him, he had very willingly acceded to her proposals, and started forthwith toattend the impending suit, after re, ceiving from her a power of attorney; and, as the spring term of Court was then in session, he re- mained until a decision of the Judge was granted. Meantime, he had found his old friend Leno, one of the lawyers employed, and had met from him a warm reception. They renewed their old collegiate intimacy, and, of course, it was not long before Leno revealed his engagement with Miss Sadie Holstein and its approaching consummation. Alonzo heard, page: 282-283[View Page 282-283] 282 SILVER LAKE OAl, too, that Miss Eveleen Evard was to be the chosen bridesmaid. "And now, Logan," said Leno, "as I have no friend with whom I feel more at liberty to call on at this eventful time, will you not yield to my solici- tations and stand by me through this critical hour of my life?" "With all my heart, Leno," replied Alonzo. "Nothing could give me more pleasure." "I will then introduce you to my lady-love's friend, a charming girl from Kentucky, who made vast havoc with the hearts of beaux in this village some time since." "Indeed!" said Alonzo, seeming a stranger to all that Leno was telling him. "How long," continued he, " since she made a visit to your village?" "Pretty soon after her arrival, when Ned and Thanky were married," replied the. unsuspecting Leno. "But excuse me, Logan, I forgot that you were not acquainted with Mr. Pierce and his charm- ing bride, Miss Thankful McLure. I introduced you to her sister, Miss Minnie, last evening, you re- member, who, by the way, will be one of our party to Shady Side, though she goes under General Har- per's wing of protection, I believe." t"Well," said Alonzo, "such is always my fate, Leno. I am always too late to make myself useful on such occasions." Here they both laughed. THE BEELE O0 BAYOU LUIE. 283 'Well, never mind," said Leno. "I will introducee you to the fair Kentuckian, and I know you will be smitten at first sight." Perhaps," replied Alonzo, affecting indifference. W"I know I shall be pleased from your description." I need not sayihow much Mrs. Huntington and the" Colonel were surprised at meeting Alonzo. They would have as soon expected the sun to drop from the sphere which it lighted as to meet Alonzo that morning at the nuptial feast cf Leno Desha and Sadie Holstein-; but like a vision he came, and like a vision he departed. C HAP TR XLIV. THE OLD GARDENERS S DEATH. All this while-poor old Hy was still lying upon his bed of sickness. The spring did not bring the faifth ful old servant the same simple hearted joys it had always done. His garden had passed to other hands for cultivation. All of those flower-beds and bor' ders, which, for many long years, had been the idols of the ancient negro's soul, had lost their charmsi for him. Fly was- ' on his last legs-/',vidently. But one day, soon after the wedding at Shady Side had taken place, the old creature's nature came back upon him; and he thught that if -Phil would-' page: 284-285[View Page 284-285] 284- SILVER LAKIE; Oft, come to the cabin and help ... . ' , o'arden to i seat under the tall magnolia which stood ne... 'leo gate, he would get the fresh air and it might do him good. So Marsha went in search of Phil, and asked him to assist her to get bim; out, a4 she, too, thought the air and the place "' mought hope him." So the two returned to the cabin and took him carefully to the place he selected. There they softly placed him on the rustic seat, which, in other days, he h-ad pleased him- self in constructing for his master. He was well nigh exhausted when they reached the spot ; but earn- estly he said: "Thank God, I am once more here!" It was not long before Marsha observed the old man begin to smile and seem very happy. "Mar- sha," said he, "I tole you tother evening dat dis old darkey's race is nearly run, and many long days it was when dat whip-poor-will bring de news; and you knows how dat gal, Minta, make my heart sot heavy when she say, 'Neber mind, uncle Hy, dat dar burd dun cume arter you.' But den, you so., Marsha, I was well and hwsty, and tho't 'twas all nuthing-a fool gal and a fool burd. Still I couldl't hope feelin' a little ticklish when she say so. But sure enuff, Marsha. and Phil, you's here now to bar witness dat it is sartin as preaehin' dat de burd done come to call me away, and, thank God, children, I's ready; I has no more accounts to settle up now; de berry last been done; my God, show me de way. Oh, yes, wife, I will soon leab you; a nudder sun THE BELLE OF'BAYOU rE 85 neb'ber go down 'fore I's, away off to dat udder land." "Oh, Ey, don't talk so doleful! you almost break 'dis darkey's heart'! I can't bear dis!" she said, as the tears fell fast from her eyes. "I can't lib in dis world after you're done gone, fadder," said she, laying her hand tenderly upon his, and then draw- ing him closely to 'her bosom, "I can't stand it," she repeated, looking into Phil's face, who, by this time, was also melted to tears, and was starting to- ward the mansion to tell his mistress how strange Hy was going on'! On this errand of alarm he sped to The house, but presently was again by the dying man's side, saying: ' Uncle y l! Iook up, ole man, and speak to Phil. Say, won't you?"Thus tried Phil with voice and touch to rouse the old gardener to consciousness, but he soon saw that all -was in vain. "Oh, Missus, Hy is gone! He done leff us," said Phil, looking at his mistress, who was -hastening to the spot. She had, on coming up but to touch ly's wrist, then to cast a glance on his face,(of which the features were plainly stamped with the signs of death) in order to see that Phil spoke truly. "Ah, Marsha, my poor Marsha, he is goner!" she said, looiking sor- rowfully at the wife, who sat weeping as though her very heart would break-a picture of natural 4agony. "He's gene, Missusl gone from dis world! You'll page: 286-287[View Page 286-287] 286 SILVER LAKR; OR, nebber see poor Hy any more moving round dis. garden wid spade and hoe ;" and at these thoughtsf she gave way to another wild burst of grief. Pres- ently she found voice again for lamentation, but with scarcely a change of idea. For, like genuine love, genuine grief is apt to fasten on some single,. central thought and keep repeating. So poor old Marsha's moan was little but a reiterated,. "No, Missus; be nebber make any more gairden for you!'" She looked once more at him, but life was gone- his spirit bad fled Of his simple, faithful life, her words really expressed what had been the business and the pride. Some praise of his goodness and piety added, he might well have had' them for his epitaph over the grave in. the plantation burying- ground, to which, next day, he was, with much love and reverence. borne by all his fellow-servants, the whole white family joining in his obsequies. Wed- dings had not hastened, a funeral did not retard, the flight of Time. Thus passed away old Hy. The weather began to be oppressive, and as Charles Evard had come for his sister Eveleen, who was but awaiting him, so that in a few days they took their departure for their own home. She left one heart that sighed for her, perhaps more, but one particularly. I allude to that of George Keiper, for he, the first time they met, had vowed she should be his, it mattered not how many others were in advance of him. His suit was strongly favored by THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 2E7 her aunt and uncle, and if her parents favored it also, perhaps he might Win her affections. These, as we have seen, had, for a time, inclined toward Alonzo; but during her visit to Cuba with Sadie it had become apparent that he was far gone in consumption. The growing attachmeht between them had thus been checked in time, and sheihad returned to Silver Lake no little saddened by his condition, but heart whole. Not so he, poor'fellow! He felt that his life was ebbing fast, but mourned none of its warm hopes half so much as those of his love. C HAPT E-R X LV . DULZEEKA LEAVES COLLEGE. Several years have now elapsed. We visit the College of the Red Church. We see the young stu- dent standing with graceful anid manly figure to receive medal after :medal and premium upon pre- mium, and covering himself with all the academic honors that a youth could wish Ato claim. It' is Dulzeeka! The President, the priestly fathers, and, above all, his old uncle, Delbigo, stand by with pleased and gratified looks at the progress the youth seems to have made. No student ever left this spot under more favorable auspice than Dulzeeka Jus, page: 288-289[View Page 288-289] 288 SILVER LAKE; OR, who has not only won the respect of all of his class- mates, but the admiration of the whole institution. During his sojourn at the College he did not visit his parents and sister, yet never, for one moment, did the feelings of his heart grow chill. Absence only strengthened the tie of kindred affection. But now, in leaving the College to embark upon the broad ocean of life, the changing and uncertain scenes which must follow man's career 'brought into his mind a train of serious reflections, though possessing a cheerful temperament, which revealed itself in his manly and placid face. Yet he had those trials to encounter. It was now to be put to the proof whether or not he could stand firmly through adversity as well as prosperity. The day was fixed when he musheave his class- mates, Walter amongst the rest, who grieved sorely to give him up. Then he must bid adieu to the quiet walls of tlfe College and to his teachers who had so faithfully labored to advance him in his studies. All must be resigned for the bustling of business in a large city, where his lot was to be cast amongst all classes, in a mixture of all nations, under the eye of an odd old uncle. But it was to that uncle he felt indebted for all that he had acquired. Implicit obedience was, therefore, his duty, and he resolved to perform that duty to the letter. After they had been in the city several days, the following conversation took place between them: -My good uncle, I wish you to select for me THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 289 something upon which to employ my mind actively and profitably." '"Well," replied the uncouth old man, "I have been thinking that the best thing a young fellow of your cut can do is at once to go to hard knocks. It takes all the nonsense out of a youngster, and makes him'feel his dependence. So you can go into my warerooms and learn to ship andreship. If you have a turn that way, why it will soon show itself. Then," continued the miserly old fellow, draw on some clothes that will suit your business and just fall to at once, for this is the way for a young buck to begin life!" Just as you say, good uncle," replied Dulzeeka. whose refined mind shrank at the chilling words of the sordid old money-getter, though determined his orders should be obeyed, And forthwith he went to a clothier's arnd pur- chased a stout business suit and assumed his heavy yoke, not allowing one murmur to escape his lips. He plunged into labors, (the most foreign to his tastes, his highly cultivated-understanding), and bent steadi y the whole force of his faculties to tasks far below them. Of course he soon grew successful, mastered the work and made himself felt in every part of it. His master soon saw how perfectly he stood the severe task to which he had put him. He became satisfied that his nephew possessed business qualifications, and in one year's time increased his salary. This augmentation Delzuka appropriated to page: 290-291[View Page 290-291] 293 SrLVER LAKE; OR, the comfort of his parents and the education of his sister, who had entered a seminary which was now erected upon Bayou Luie. Thus clasped the next three years after his having quitted college. It was now in the beginning of summer, a period, which, however, spread a panic throughout the city, and cast a gloom over its traffic. The cholera appeared in its most terrific form. CHAPTER XLVI. HS UNCLE DELBIGO'S WILL. Delbigo was seized as one-of its victims. He was a very fit subject for its attack. All medical aid proved unavailing, and as the old manlay gasping in an almost collapsed state he kept his hand upon his bosom, where he had long worn concealed a key. As the agonies of his disease grew sharper he only clutched that key the closer, as though the last thing of life to which he clung--that talisman which secured his locked treasures. At last feeling, I sup- pose, that his end was drawing nigh, he reached for the hand of Dulzeeka, placed the key in his, and said, in the feeblest accents: "The treasures which this unlocks I bequeath to you and your heirs for- THE BELLE OF BAYO OU UIE. 291 ever. I have no one else on whom to bestow them. To legacy encumbers them, except only a small donation to an institution in the city. In my-safe you will find some valuable jewels; these give to your sister. They were onee worn by her grand parents, who. were of noble birth. I have," con- tinued he, "ordered holy father Gazed to hold the. instrument of writing by which I have made these testamentary dispositions." Here he was seized with an awful paroxysm, which left him totally exhausted, .but still con- scious, and looking wistfully in the face of the father who( stood bent over his .almost expiring frame. The priest now went on to administer the mass for the dying, as he saw too plainly that in a few moments more his spirit would take its flight. It was now near the close of evening. A lower- ing cloud overspread the firmament-; a heavy gust sprang up; the distant thunders began to roll nearer and nearer, and flash after flash darted tlirough the heavens until the very earth and sky seemed a blaze of fire. The terrific winds howled and roared as though they would;tear the houses from their very foundations. The old tenement occupied by Del- bigo creaked and shook as if every moment it would' be rent asunder by the swelling tempest. It was a dismal, dreary night to Dulzeeka. The priest soon straightened the limbs of the lifeless form, and per- formed the due rites with all solemnity. This done. without waiting for the elements to cease thewr 4 page: 292-293[View Page 292-293] :932 SILTER LAKS;I OR *warring, he left the dark chamber of death, perhaps to attend a similar call. He -drew the robes around his tall figure, and after having taker, from the safe the document committed to his care, disappeared from tih dreary Ihabitation. Dulzeeka kept midnight watch over the silent dead-the remains of him who had hoarded his thousands of gold and deprived himself of the very necessaries of life in order to pile ulp boastless treasures. Delbigo had passed from earth leaving few to mourn him, and only his marble monument occasionally to remind the passer-by that there once lived such a man. But stay! We had almost for- gotten the last obituary attentions of one that never neglects the dead who have left behind them what are humanly known as assets. The law took charge of poor old Delbigo's memory by bringing his will to Probate, ai)lointing an administrator, arnd, in short, discharging those tender cares with which it loves to honor those whoso causes have ceased, but who -have left effects behind them. As soon as Dulzeeka was proclaimed the legal heir of his uncle, he left New Orleans for the home ,of his childhood upon Silver Lake. His arrival there was hailed with joy after a separation from his parents, sister and those neighbors he so much loved -in his childhoold. Yet how much changed was he! He was Bo longer the youth of sixteen summers, but had grown to manhood. Nothing was left in him that U TIE BELLE OP' BAYOU LUtE. 293 looked familiar except his countenance, which had improved into a more perfect lineament and a man- lier mould. Dulzeeka gazed with a brother's pride upon' the tall, though slight, figure of his sister Estelle, who had changed from a child into almost a young lady. She, too, had grown interesting in appearance; though not possessing beauty, she had charming powers of conversation. Her eyes were soft and very expressively bright, for they beamed with in- tellect, goodness and amiability. But far less welcome changes awaited her brother's return to the rural home of his boyhood- His father now moved about with tottering, steps; decrepit age had robbed him of elasticity of limb; his head was whitened by the frosts of time; his voice had become feeble, low and tremulous; his limbs weak and some- what palsied. As the youth's anxious gaze caught the eye of his mother, he saw that there, too, the lustre had departed; no longer was there in those bright orb, the vivacity, of fair womanhood ; over her face deep furrows were visible, and those once-glow- ing cheeks were sunken from the loss of the two pearly rows which once set off her expressive mouth. He could not, without a heartache, realize the altera- tion when he gazed into either her fond and loving face or noticed his father's rapid decay. He looked upon the haunts of his boyhood which had once filled his heart with so muc, deligjt-they, too, wore a different appearance. What was it, he b-'$ page: 294-295[View Page 294-295] 291 SILVER LAKE 5 OR, thought, that made things look so strange? Could it be absence? Iis childish pursuits jad all van- ished or lost their charms. Ah! time and my con- tact with the world have taken swift effect in my once unsophisticated soul, and I find myself paying that sad price, which even they whom the world envies must pay for their securing happiness. The neighborhood had become thickly settled; a pros- perous village had sprung up like the work of magic near the home of his youth, and society had greatly im proved. As he had become the possessor of an immense fortune, he had sought the roof of his parents that they might share with him 'the luxuries -which it could procure. They, however, still preferred their Silver Lake home-the rural spot they had so long loved. If he would add to it some comforts and im- provements that could easily be made, they would live out their days in happiness and quiet there. As they had passed years in this obscurity, they cared but little in their old age to be trammeled with the encumbrance of anything of show or the fashion- able world. For they had been so long away from that heartlessness, which once they had known too well, that they looked on it with dismay, and pro- tested against their son now forcing it upon them. Still they would not consent to deprive their chil- dren of such enjoyment, as Dulzeeka's fortune would afford them. Let them go forth and taste the bitter % THE BE LLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 295 pleasures of life, and come back to Silver Lake at intervals for calmer ones. How could the rightness of all this be gainsayed? Dulzeeka was fain to submit. He, therefore, re- mained at Silver Lake long enough to arrange every comfort about the cottage that was requisite to make it pleasant for the old people. He placed with them companions fit to amuse as well as take care of them, and choice servants to wait upon them. His next step was to get leave to take his sister Estelle and place her at the same seminary with Clara Hunt- ington. Notwithstanding the great trial it- was for them to part with her and the effort it would cost her to leave them, they and she acquiesced, and the young folks made arrangements to start as early as possible upon their voyage. For wishing to see as much on their trip as possible, they had decided to go to Kentucky by the sea route of New Orleans and New York. CHAPTER XLLVII. DULZEEKAJ, ESTELLE AND CLARA AT TH1E BO3ARDING- SCHOOL. The particulars of their travel, whether by sea, or land, or lake need not be told. They were pleasant enough, but trivial, for they were wafted along with. out shipwreck and rattled along without a smash, page: 296-297[View Page 296-297] 296 SILVER LAKE; O1t, so that some three weeks brought them to Clara's boarding school, through the. cities already men- tioned, part of Canada and the lakes, and thence by railroad to the village of P--, Kentucky, There ensued a joyful and unexpected meeting between the three. They talked over all the past and present; and in making gay plans, regaled themselves upon much-expected happiness in the future- And in the visions of romantic youth, What years of endless bliss are yet to- flow! But earthly pleasure! what art thou, in sooth? The torrent's smoothness, ere it dash below! To join the happy group soon came a welcome guest. It was Walter .Glidewell, Clara's brother, Dulzeeka's class-mate. He had asked, and obtained, by telegraph, his now indulgent grandmother's per- mission to go there, and in two days after he was by his sister's side and walking arm in arm with Dulzeeka. About this time the village was in quite a commo- tion. A grand wedding was to take place in a few days. It was in the mouth of every one-the theme not of gossips alone; but of all. You could not meet man, woman or child but the first question pro- pounded was: "Are you going to the wedding next Tuesday evening?"As all the world knows Fame had been turned out of her office in towns by the newspaper, it is now only through hamlets and vil- lages she flies trumpeting, and bears upon her sound- ing wings (the one black and the other white) every- THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 297 body's doings and business, which folks come, by her means, to understand better than those concerned. Thanks to her zeal in its behalf, the wedding was no longer a secret. Nay, the bans had been published in the village church the Sunday before, and the ele- gant embossed cazrds had been scattered far and wide. Nor was that all. Preparations for a splen- did repast were in progress. The -dainties and con- fectioneries were bespoken, while the spacious saloon was being waxed smoothly for dancing, until its sur- face shone like glass. CHAPTER XILTIII. CONVERSATION BETWEEN HATTIE MARTIN AND HER MAMMA. "Oh, dear mamma, what shall I wear to the wed- ding? I know it wil be a brilliant affair. Besides, I must excel Sue Patterson, who always thinks she looks better than any one else, and can have hand. somer apparel than I can," said Hattie Martin to her mnamma t Just at that moment the door-bell rang, and the servant announced Miss Jackson, the fashionable dressmaker! "Oh, I am so perfectly delighted that you have come, Miss JacksoL ' said Hattie, with all the airs of a finished flirt. "I could not get this old-maidish U page: 298-299[View Page 298-299] 298 SILVER LAKE ; ORB mamma of mine," continued she, looking into her mother's face, "to tell me what I must wear. Now, as I know you have such exquisite taste, I shall no longer be at a lossfor I shall abide by what you say. I am determined to captivate the wealthy Southerner, who, a few days ago, arrived in the village. Miss Sue thinks she will catch him, but I am resolved she shall fail this time." To give effect to those amiable words, they were uttered with a sneer, and a contemptuous toss of the head, with which fair Hattie often enforced her disdain or her displeasure. Oh, my daughter!" said her mother, seeming almost shocked at her child s imprudent manner of speaking before the stranger dressmaker, "I wish you had less vanity, and would exercise a little dis- cretion in your remarks about others, who, perhaps, never gave you any cause to talk of them with any unkindliness." Q "Well, mamma, this is the sort of reproof I al- ways get from you, whether I deserve it or not. Ever since I have gone into society you have been reading those detestable lectures to me, as though I did not know this' girl to have an envious, mean disposition. While other girls, no older than my- self, can express themselves just as they please to their mammas, and nothing is thought of it, I must needs be scolded, and, oh, dear! I do not kpow -what all. I can never do anything right, any way." 'THE RE-LTE e BAVOXUj tUIE. 299. Then, giving her head a particularly independent. toss, she left the room rather flurriedly. , You see, Miss Jackson," said the martifiedt mother, "the error I have committed in inidulging' my daughtertoo much. Some girls will bear it; but others become so conceited that they imagine' themselves too lofty to reeive counsel. IThey wilf not take that judgment which experience has pur- chased at so high a price. No,'no! they go on and on in their perverseness, until they become 'disw gusting; until, in fact, they incur the disrespect and} ill-will of those who would and might be their friends." These words were spoken by Mrs; Martin in her mild tone of voice and gentle way of speaking, In another moment came Hattie darting- back,- into the room, saying:l "Please tell me, mamma, what I must wear so as to eclipse Miss Sue Patter. son?"This time, however, she assumed rather a,; submissive tone and look, as if to say: ( Will this( manner of speech, about that girl, suit you any bet-' ter-, ma'am l" "I think, Miss s Hattio," said. Miss Jackson, now- venturing to give her advice, "la rich, cream-colored- satin dress, trailing Slightly, and a thule worn over it, with a deep blonde fall, would set off your fne figure admirably, and a wreath of orange blossoms; mixed with green and scarlet, would contrast' wel{ with your dark brown hair.' "Oh, not orange blossoms, Miss Jackson, if yo- please,; so many girls will weafr thes. -But hand-, O page: 300-301[View Page 300-301] 300' SLVBE LAKE; OR, some camelias I much prefer, as I can get them itm any color, and besides they are very rare and ex. pensive. Then a set of those splendid diamonds I must have. They are magnificent!" "Hattie," said her mamma, who had sat and lise tened to the conversation, '"I think a more simple dress will become a young girl just entering into so- ciety. I always had an aversion to seeing young girls dress as mature young ladies. It gives them an air of pretension which I do not think becomes them. I think that misses should always, on such, occasions, dress in something light and airy." (Dear me, mamma," cried Hattie, " suppose I go back to my bib and tucker, my bread and butter days, and put on pantalets again?" ' Hattie," replied her mother, "decide at once what you wish. It shall be purchased, no matter at what price, with only this condition, that you shall be respectful, and not speak of others so harshly." Well, my sweet, good mamma," said Hattie, ' I want a straw-colored satin, with a deep trail, a rich lace over it, and a heavy bertha, and those elegant diamonds, at Jaquelle's, and large, rich camelias, to- wear in the left side of my hair." '- Well," said her mother, " give your memoran- dum to Miss Jackson, and she will go and have it filled for you." Away went Hattie, singing in a loud, fashionable strain, satisfied that she had carried the point with her yielding mother, and that she would not fail to THE BeLLM OF: BAYOTU LUIE : fling Miss Sue into the shade, by her dazzling jewels, and glittering satins. How many scenes of a like -sort there occurred through the village a! this time could only have been ascertained by an exact stat. istical enumeration of the girls of the place wwho lad mothers. CHAP T ER X-LIX. - ' WEDDIN G AT PARIS, KENTUCKY. At length came the much expected day, looking as if sent expressly for the occasion. It burst forth in a glorious dawn upon the village, and was met by a very special commotion in the dwelling of Mr. Evard, for this was the bridal day of his lovely daughter, Eveleen, with George Keiper, a planter of Louisian a, whose acquaintance sh'e had made some years ago when on her visit to her uncle's at Silver Lake. That acquaintance ripened into a true and ardent love; though when first- they met she haia not regarded him as one to love, for then she wits partially pledged to another, as: our readers to doubt remember. The beauty of the earlier day held steadily on to an evening as fair and sweet, and the nuptial hour arrived. The bride, the bridegroom and their at. tendants passed up the aisle of the church of St. page: 302-303[View Page 302-303] '02 SLVER LAKE; OR, Paul's, and arranged themselves at the altar before the village clergyman, who, under the solemn and beautiful service of the Church of England, In the presence of a crowded concourse of spectators, bound them in the holy bonds of matrimony. George placed the heavy gold ring upon her fair, delicate finger as the ceremony reached its close, and, after the nuptial blessing had been pronounced, the gav party adjourned to the spacious reception rooms of Mr. Evard, where the laugh of the giddy, the glad, the beautiful, the fashionable went round until the spacious halls, saloons and galleries re- sounded with one universal gaiety. Here, too, was Dulzeeka Jus, the handsome and courteous millionaire, from the South. But what dark creole girl is that who enters with him and Clara Huntington? Such was the thought of many, but especially of our new acquaintance, Hattie. "I wonder, man- ma," said she, * if it will turn out that I shall meet a rival in that swarthy, dark-looking Spanish girl, as they say she is? I do not think her at all grace- ful, do you?"Thus asked she, as they sat together, mother and daughter, where, in the promenade, our Silver Lake party had repeatedly passed them. Why, Hattie, I think she has a very interesting appearance. She looks young, and her movements are easy and graceful, while her figure is almost faultless, of a symmetry such as one seldom sees" "Well, mamma, she does not look as we Ken- THE BELLE OF BAYOU LOUIE. 303 tuckians do, anyhow. She has no rose-tint pn her cheek, nor a snow-white complexion.' "No, my dear," said Mrs. Martin, "she really does not seem to have rouge upon her cheek, nor a polish of creme de lys upon her brow." Well, mamma," replied Hattie, "how you do f delight in taking off fashion and taste." "Not more, my dear, than you in denouncing beauty and nature," replied her mother, smiling. "AAh! here comes Miss Sue. Now I suppose 1 must drawl out my words, and pick them over to' see what they mean before I utter them, for fear of a lecture from my good mamma," said Hattie, not without bitterness, for she felt mortified to see that Sue had outgeneraled her, had managed to have Dulzeeka introduced to her, and was now approach- ing gracefully leaning upon his arm. As the pair passed Hattie and Mrs. Martin, Sue bowed very haughtily, especially to Miss Battie, at the same time looking up into the face of Mr. Jus, with all the condescension of a queen, and gayly chatting to him. Evidently she was attacking him with the small-arms of conversation, to be followed up, as soon as they could be brought into position, by the fatal fire of all the artillery of her attractions. Hattie Martin had been on nettles the whole eve- ning, and very much disappointed was she in not meeting with an opportunity to be presented, as one of the village belles, to the wealthy Southerner, who was attracting all the beauty of the town to- page: 304-305[View Page 304-305] 804 SILVER LAKE; OR, ward his fine appearance, as well as his reputed for- tune. The evening was already more than half spent, when Dulzeeka, after paying many lively compli- ments to the belles of the village, drew apart for one moment, and seated himself to look upon the gay crowd, as they passed by in joyous conversation, light and frivolous, but such as diffused good spirits nay, happiness, among the large assemblage who mixed in it. But soon he stole, carelessly and un- noticed, to Clara's side, where she was still prome- nading with her brother and Estelle, perfectly de- lighted to hear of all that transpired at Silver Lake, but feeling a little sad to learn of the death of ld Hy, the gardener. "Now," said Dulzeeka, "I think I have a right to claim a round or two from you, my Silver Lake friend, extending his arm to Clara, who smiled and said: "I supposed the grown young ladies could enter- tain you with their chat of the day far better than a school girl like myself." "No, no," replied Dulzeeka. "Come, now, no insinuttions about my remissness, Clara, my old friend "No, Dulzeeka, you did not understand me," said Clara, blushing deeply, "I meant that Stella and I would be at a loss what to say to interest a young gentleman; for school girls are neither children nor women, they are not fit either to play with or talk to." THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 5 "Do not let that fact incommode you in the least, my friend. We can talk of the past; those days of all others the happiest in memory; those innocent days of our childhood, which I hope you have not forgot. ten. Now, accept my arm, and let us promenade." Clara blushed and assented, and, for the first time, he noticed a timidity in her manner toward him. He wondered to himself was it coyness, or had she ceased to think of him in the light of friendship? He hoped that time and absence had not wrought so great a change in her girlish heart. "Now," con- tinued he, "Clara, have you forgotten old times, on Bayou luie? How happy we were in the past? And, in spite of so many long years of separation, why may we not be happy still? To me a new in- terest begins to unfold itself in the future; a rradiant light bursts upon the coming events of life which never before now could I have dared reveal to you. Perhaps I nmght never have done so, if Dame For- tune had not smiled upon me. In my poverty I never could have disclosed the cherished secret of my heart to you, who were thb child of fortune, comfort and luxury, and therefore too ill fitted to mate with a poor man. Clara," he went on, placing his hand upon his bosom to give deeper expression to his feelings, :my heart was proud; but from boy- hood it had a presentiment that one day it was to rise from its obscurity, and, perhaps, be worthy of this hand I now hold. But, Clara, let me now ask, does one feeling of tenderness exist in your young page: 306-307[View Page 306-307] 306 SILVER LAKE; OR, heart for me? Or does mine beat alone? Clara, answer me, I conjure you!" u"Mine, Dulzeeka," said Clara, "could only be the confession of a school girl, without the applrobation of her parents." "Then, Clara, there is only one thing which they could object to me for, and that, I am inclined to hope, would not make any difference to them." "Oh, Dulzeeka, that to which you allude need not disturb you. But my age would interfere, you know." "Well, Clara, I am glad to hear you say so, for your age is no hindrance, time will remedy that." "You have often heard -mamma say that school girls should not think of society, that of gentlemen especially." !"But, dearest Clara, remember that a few months more and you will no longer be a schnool-girl. . Re- member that," said he, smiling pleasantly. "Oh; yes; but even when the school has ceased, it is a good while before the school-girl can be rub- bed off by the polish of society, you know," argued the girl. "Ah! Clara," cried he, "I see your design in this argument is to evade anything like an understand- ing for the future. Now, I would not have thought you so artful." "Not at all, Dulzeeka; but for the present let us THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 307 not hold ourselves bound in any serious promise, for since I am too young for any discreet vows, I ought to-be left engaged in none at all. "Say, then, Clara, that I shall be the friend next after your parents and brother, will you?" i' Will that spffice? If so, Dulzeeka, I will repeat the lines of your own composition, which you gave me long ago, and which I repeat in the language of my heart: "I roam o'er the mountains hight, And sail on the dark blue sea, And walk by the moon's pale light, Yet I think, still think of thee. "I tread the green, mossy glade, And cull the rose from its stem, And sigh that its beauty must fade, As I think, still think of thee. ' I join -in the festive dance, And smile as in joyous glee, And speak flatteries perc/hance, While I -think, still think of thee. "I sigh as the winds pass by, That they bear thee no word from me, By a seraph's wing from on high, And I think, ever think of thee." "These are my sentiments, Dulzeeka. Now urge -no further promise." - a Then that shall suffice, Clara. Only be faithful to that, and-I ask no more for the present." This said, they went to join the promenaders who were moving around in all the gayety of the occasion. "Dulzkeeka/' said Claraj with the timidity of a page: 308-309[View Page 308-309] 38 SILVER LAKE; OR, girl, "have you been introduced to the bride, my beautiful cousin?" 'Oh, yes," he replied, "George would not slight an old Silver Lake friend by omitting to introduce me." "I did not think of that," replied Clara. "Now you see an instance of my school girl ignorance. I should have known better if I had only thought of George. Oh, well, well! I have a great deal to learn yet." "r You little mischief you, you sylph, if you do not stop tantalizing me with that school-girl theme I will be tempted to seek your father forthwith, and then what do you think will be the consequence?" At this Clara blushed deeply, looked confused, and tried to evade answering him. Then, instantly, to change the conversation, asked what he thought of Miss Sue Patterson? 4 I don't- know, Clara-; I think there is too much of the butterfly about her. One can not engage her in connected conversation for a moment; she flies from subject to subject, like an insect that shifts from flower to flower, too fast to draw any honey from even the sweetest of them." Their attention was caught by a very tall gentleman, who passed just then, with a lady upon his arm. "Look, Dulzeeka! Do you see the lady who has just passed, who the gentleman escorting her seems to be flattering with a gallant love speech?" Yes," he replied, I1 can read her like a book; THE BELLE OF' BAYOT LUIE. 30 her very eye tells her character. I know by her' motions that she is a flirt, and full of coquetry." "You really guess well. But I really do not like to hear one of my own sex thus accused," said Clara. "At any rate, her mother is immensely wealthy. Still Hattie fails to be the belle she as. pires to be. She pleases not, out of the excess of her efforts to please, and wins no admirers, because she longs to catch them all at once " By some strange turn of fortune, a gentleman of familiar face and most friendly address appeared at the wedding; one than whom none could have come more unlooked for. Our very readers will start, as at a ghost, when we tell them it was Alonzo Logan. Walter and Estelle, in the promenade, had fallen upon him, and now the former came to where his sister and Dulzeeka were seated in order to commu- nicate to them the news of Mr. Logan's unexpected arrival. Dulzeeka left Clara for one moment with her brother, while he went in quest of the new-comer, and finding him walking with -Estclle, joined them, by giving his sister his arm. The three had a long and amicable chat. Of the event which had again brought them together, the marriage, they spuke but Alonzo did not once allude to the time when his heart beat so fondly for her whom he once hoped tor make his own. No ;.you would have said the whole story had vanished from his mind -and when they frequently met, it was as friends only, as ordinary page: 310-311[View Page 310-311] 310 SILVER LAKE * OR, friends meet. Yes; the past seemed forgotten by both. The invitation had reached Alonzo barely in time to get there after the ceremony was over. Had it befallen otherwise I can not say how he would have borne that trial of his apathy. At any event, dis- ease not having killed him, it was hardly to be ex- pected of him now to turn around and die of love merely to conform to the ideas or the convenience of romancers like my readers or me. Indeed, he seemed that night likelier to die of a new love than the old. I am very sorry, very much ashamed, that any hero of mine should have behaved so ill; but the fact is, that he gave strong signs all the rest of that evening of being greatly bewitched with the grace- ful and intellectual creole girl, Estelle. Nor as they pasied again and again the fair bride, as she hung upon the arm of George Keiper, could there be de- ected upon Alonzo's countenance the slightest shade of regret or tinge of envy. Nay, he positively smiled upon George, with the superior smile of one by no means willing to change places Such is mas- culine constancy in those degenerate days. "I think Mr. Logan is a very nice gentleman," said Clara, as he was still promenading with Estelle. "Yes, a good fellow, too," said Dulzeeka. "(He and I were chums, in New Orleans, last winter, when he was spending the season there for his health. At the return of spring he accompanied Mr. La- verde to Silver Lake. They were also at Winns- THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 8 " borough and Prairie DeBoeuf some weeks. It was there he made the acquaintance of my sister, she tells m;e." "W ell, by the way, Dulzeeka, I rather think there are serious intentiofs on the part of Mr. Logan. It is, however, only from what I have observed of his manner toward her to-night I draw my conclusion." "Oh, that can hardly be," said Dulzeeka. "'E]s- telle, like yourself, has yet to go to school. How can any one think ' seriously' of a school-girl, Clara Besides, she has too much sense to think of love. matters yet awhile, I hope,-at least for some months." "Indeed!" said Clara. "You need not flatter t yourself that you will have her an old maid upon your hands. She is too sweet a girl to remain single, except through choice." "I do not fear that. I only fear I shall lose her too soon," he replied. Here the conversation was interrupted by the appearance of Walter, who came to them, saying: "Sweet sister, it is time for schoolgirls to retire from this crowd. Perhaps a few short lessons are to be learned. So, now, let's g in quest of Miss Estelle, and be off for the seminaur." Just as you bid me, brother," -ilied Clara, who was always attentive to her brother's counsel. In a few moments they found Estefle, and after she had been told what Walter said, the three dispersed, and Dulzeeka went in pursuit-of Alonzo. lie found page: 312-313[View Page 312-313] i1 SILVER LAKE; ON} they departed to their rooms at the hotel to steal a morning's nap. In like manner the company all dispersed from Mr. Evard's, after an evening universally pronoun- ced " delightful." But hold! We have been hasty, There was one exception to this unanimity of satis- faction. Miss Prude was vehemently discontented, as the poets describe black melancholyr or tawny care, or green and-yellow envy. In fact, flowers that are born to be gathered must lose even their swdet tempers when they see nobody coming to pluck them; and pretty Prue was a rose which had so long been left to languish uncropped upon the stem that she pined and fretted, and was fading a little fast. To Eveleen her jealousy had never mattered, nor did her envy now. Eveleen was happy, for so a well-chosen marriage must always make those of a loving nature. The pain of quitting one's parents for a new affection, ordered by God to prevail over the filial, is short, though sharp, and has its natural compensation in the new condition which the woman takes upon her. As to the loss of sister Prue's soci- ety it was such a grief as. I think I could have been consoled, for Prue was to Eveleen like a bad, tooth that loved to ache better than to eat, and did its best to hinder her enjoying anything sweet. To pull it out cost a pang, but to mourn for it was impossible. George and his fine bride took their leave in a few days, with the brightest prospects before thom, and THE BsVL Ot RIE " . proeeded to.-theia-ho 'enear Shady Sid^w--Bay After the- wieddleg? was^. over, andm:Dtdeseka ,f . mna ehhe -neeegay ry. arranmgemelts. for-i hissistekt remait- witf Clara a few tionthf. be- and- Aon.-: I/ogan congeatied: toacmwainy-WFal ter idewelUto ,heo-,homed Of his8graitdmother..., Tbhevtiisit ,heo wa^ :srae, would'. iondueco-a her :-to; give' her'-assent -to- hi -taking: a trip-to the: mountainse wiNth km. TWhe. :plan was, that at- their return 'frot -thiw, pointhey t wousld proceed to Sil-ver Lake ,; ,h-eret. thoevy wofui Trejoin the- girl' .who) by. that tite:^jwi d-bo :r red to . leave- sehool togethr. Sgo thh boys ( all threoe -started forI Wal-terr s -hoie, oan d otho ggks .t in anrx -,ious- to astdy, for another qgruater, ,. * - , * * ^' , ' TACATION'iM tAki "-A*D-i1 '-AT^CSfT ' ' Nothi'g tends tottasten .the marehoa Ti .o: a.., much as occupation. Rapid lyrf,.:fi, tl:.,grt,. three. months Thaisummner vyaationarrivied,-a th boardingschool, lady 4tl. a .U...t... . solicited byr Ire4a:iiWeliy tkmwgothoueo w"'h*be Bsttangou t for -t-he $SOth,.swent, to,UcftoAtthe, t ;tinUt csUntry seatfr. ofiNOX qh-,aaa T,-, Wt IrPenea, eldest --iatw. .-dtd .,-. a .- (a 3^ page: 314-315[View Page 314-315] 3814 SILVER LSAKE; 0U, upon her marriage to a gentleman of large fortune taken Irene to educate, for their father's circum- stance would not allow of Irene's having as thor. ough an education as her sister, Mrs. Winston, desired her to receive. Irene had, from her earliest childhood, been used to look up to her elder sister rather as a- mother thar, a sister. Even before Mrs. Winston's marriage she had taken almost the entire charge of Irene, because the child loved her singularly, and there was, besides, such a difference in their ages as made the one naturally a guide andy governness to the other. Generous as rich, and, more than either, devoted to his wife, Mr. Winston lavishly seconded her views as to Irene, whom, indeed, he soon made equal almost in his kind attentions. Thus she was well cared for, supplied with everything, and all pains were taken that she should grow up as an accom- plished and lovely woman. Yet, with all this, her affection never lessened in the least for her parents; she was in no manner weaned from them, though plain people, of little wealth and no ambition, who, in complete seclusion and grcat happiness, cultivated a small farm and large virtues. On the arrival of the young ladies at Clifton they found great preparations had been made for their reception. Irene's friends all called upon them directly, and dinner parties were given, and fetes made, equipages and dances gotten up, at all whichl the girlish trio were the chief guests and objects of THE BELLE 'OF BAYOU LUIE. 315 attention. And glittering halls and gay beauty con- stantly thronged to the pleasant country-seat. It was, indeed, a resort for all the young folks of the city, from which it was only a short drive along a beautiful road shaded by tall sycamores and feathery locusts and tufted catalpas, avenues of which made, by the meeting of their boughs high over head, a continuous arch, a long-drawn aisle of verdure, whose sides were, at close intervals, hung with branches of budding wild vines, that wove theme selves among the trees in embowering canopies, or waved their foliage in airy festoons. To this lovely spot, that looked quite like a glimpse of Arcadia, abundant company was attracted in summer afternoons, not merely to escape from the toil of the dusty city at hand, but to enjoy the delicious creams, with berries and luscious melons, which were invariably set before them to assist the natural charms of the place. The dazzling beauty of Irene, of course, drew much admiration. It was, besides, heightened by the grace of her manners, for, though young, she had gone much into society. Her sister had, during the last year, sent her into company, of which there was always a crowd at Clifton, in order to. give her the ease that is so necessary when a young lady is a brought out." page: 316-317[View Page 316-317] 816 SILVER LAKE; OR, CHAPTER LI. THE PICNIC PARTY. Well, amongst the many amusements devised for the girls was a picnic, to be given at Locust Grove. Every gentleman offered himself to his favorite fair -one as gallant for the day. Irene, like other young girls who imagine their hearts very susceptible, had al. ready begun to view with eyes of favor a spark who out-dressed, out-danced, out-dashed and out-sighed all the rest. His showiness bad caught Irene's fancy, and she not only in her inexperience had met his attentions with some favor, but had, on this occasion, accepted him as her escort. She little dreamt that there was an eye most envious, malignant, and now sharpened by jealousy, that was all the while watching her with a deceit, and a hate the deadliest, as little suspected by any- body else as by herself. This was a girl who had been brought up by Mr. Winston's mother, and had lived in the family from her infancy-in the midst of that virtuous and loving family, sucking in, like a spider amongst roses, poison from their very sweets. She had, probably, been envious of Mrs. Winston at her marriage, and had then transferred her jealousy -and hate to Irene. The latter was considerably younger than Lila and had always treated her with THE RELLE OOF BAYOU LUIE, ST7 every respect, for Mrs. Winston had never taught her anything but what was amiable. Lila had never, in her childhood, been told' that she was not a Winston-it had only been revealed to her when she had reached womanhood. Thus cut short in her ambitious hopes, she had set up illegitimate sehem6s of winning rank and fortune as an adventuress; -had tried her luck as far as to go to Canada in the guise of -a governness with such families as held out, in news- paper advertisements, alluring offers. Among such she expected to meet profitable dupes and a possible husband. But thus far the demon who has suc- ceeded to the fanc:ions of Mercury, the patron of knights and ladies of the host, and of swindlers gen- erally, had not been gracious to her in any propor- tion to her ill-deserts. Again and again she hard seemed on the point of a splendid success, but she was over-subtle-the vice of great rogues-and had always ended by over-reaching nobody but herself. After such she always vanished without beat of drum, and bade adieu after that discreet fashion which is usually called taking French leave." It was upon one of these mysterious disappearanes. from some remote quarter, where she had thons under some elegant assumed name, that she had now returned to Clifton, her usual refuge after one of these campaigns, as to all of which and her entire. real character she had contrived, by boundless dis-. simulation, to keep the family in the dark. It may be imagined in what danger the guilQless page: 318-319[View Page 318-319] '318 SILVER LAKE; OR, Irene stood when made the object of such a woman's practices. She had been watching with the most malignant vigilance the girlish inclination which that young lady was forming toward William Foster, who, in reality, was a secret confederate of her own, and that very youth, whose merits our readers grew, some time since, acquainted with while he figured at Drennon Springs. It was, therefore, not only to injure Irene, but to preserve 'her hold upon William, that this evil genius now set her evil wits to work. She, began by inducing Foster to fail in the en- gagement with Irene for the picnic. That morn- ing several gentlemen had already called for the ladies they were to escort. They had added to the plan a sail on the lake, to make the affair as inter- esting as possible to the young ladies, especially those from Clifton, for whom the party had been made, for they had heard of the water parties at Silver Lake, and hoped, on this occasion, to rival these in charmingness. With this view, then, one after another, they all assembled at the rendezvous of Winston house, bringing in abundance all those delicate stores which make the more fanciful pro- vision of a picnic, together with a more solid com- missariat of bread, meat and such like timber of the stomach, not to speak of certain baskets of dainty wines, such as gentlemen enjoy, and even ladies do not entirely disdain. One only was missing from the expected party. THE. BELLE OPFBAYOU LUIE, 819 This was, of course, Wfiliam Foster. Neither he nor even any apology was forthcoming. In short, he had put upon Irene a del berate insult. Mortified she could not help being; but his rudeness worked an instant cure of her liking for him. She was a girl of too true and high a spirit not at once to dist miss , im forever from her esteem. Regrets were out of the question. She, therefore, joined the party un- attended, and shared to the fill in all its hilarity. They sailed, they danced., they fished, they had games, they crowned a Queen of the Feast, and gave loose tol every, amusement that could be thought of until the close of the afternoon. In short, the entire affair went off quite brilliantly, and was pronounced on all sides a great success. It was, however, at its tlose, visibly enough marked among the ladies by abundant signs of bodily ex- haustion. Nay, worse, their spirits began to flag; their attire grew discomposed; their very charms, natural and artificial, were getting out of order; their tresses were disarranged; the cheeks of some, the noses and chins of others, came to have a tint too much or too little; and, in brief, it was plainly and high time to break up. So, calling their horses, or coaches, or boats, or whatever else was to snatch them away, they fled as does, about the same time of day, the sun, and at their elbows folloued the gentlemen. As the trooping shadows trip in the rear of departing light, our own especial party made their way back to Clifton. page: 320-321[View Page 320-321] $20 srLVER LAKE ; OR, There the usual lively supper revived their jaded spirits. But the girls, satiated with the day's en- joymepts, at an -early hour excused themselves to the gentlemen and retired to rest in Irene's room, where no sooner-bad Clara and Estelle laid their :hleads upon their pillows than they-were off to that -land of elysian dreams, where attendant sylphs m--inister to the feminine fancy of the fair and young all that was less perfect in the ball-room or theater, and fetch them fresh airs and graces, dresses such -as mortal milliners never made, and gallantries -never breathed by mere human lovers. But -Irene was restless and nervous. She had -not yet closed Deer eyelids. The excitement, -the suppressed sensi. itiveness of the day came back, and she kept tossing :from side to side, until at last, by some unguarded ,movement, she suddenly awoke Clara, who lay be- side her. "Bless me, Irene!" cried she, "' what :is the mat- ter with you? Are you sick?"' P Oh, no," replied Irene. "I can not sleep to-night, I do not know why. I suspect it is only nervous- ness; though I never before was kept from sweet sleep by any cause but sickness." All of a sudden a rapid touch of light fingers was Heard running over the cords of a harp in prelude; then a strain the sweetest followed; it -grew louder and fuller at every note, until presently the compass of the instrument, under a masterly hand, was reached, while all the while rose in unison the THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUTE0 821 notes, now delicate and now bold, of a rich male voice, that filled the air far around with delicious music. "Oh, Irene," whispered Clara, 1'where does it, come from? I never heard anything to equal it. "Oh," continued the delighted girl, "it is ravish- ing, transporting t Hold me! I feel as though I could take wings and soar away!" "Indeed," said Estelle, who by this time was :roused up, "print that flowery speech. Or if you are off through the air,-take us along. We can easily be let down at Silver Lake, which would spare a journey by conveyances vastly inferior. Don't you think so, Irene?" said Estelle, in her mocking way. "It would be velT convenient," answered Irene; but don't go until we dress and pack our trunks. Where's my new bonnet?" "Oh, girls, stop and listen to the music. I never :before heard anything -so heavenly. Oh, -minsttel, minstrel, let me see you, that I may throw you an unseen kiss, at any rate," continued Clara. "Oh, you -love-sick pigeon ; you dear, despairing dove; you sweet, sentimental duck ;" said Estelle. i' We must get some fit medicine to cure you of those tender-takings." Here again they all laughed in high glee. i' You had better stop, Estelle," -said Clara. {They that live in glass houses should'nt throw stones. You know retaliation is very sweet. Now listent page: 322-323[View Page 322-323] 322 SILVER LAKE ; OR, girls, to the music. It begins again. It is inteded for orne of you, I know." Here, for a moment, they ceased their fun. "I wonder, Irene, who they are? Have you any idea?" Not the least," replied Irene. "I do not know a performer on the harp within my whole acquain- tance of trentlemen." '"It is lovely! It is perfectly enchanting!" ejacu- lated the girls in almost the same breaih. Then, softly creeping to the lattice, they discovered the figures, in outline, of three gentlemen, but could not tell who they were, not even Irene, who only per- ceived that he whom she took to be the harper and singer was unusually tall. Gradiually the sounds died away; then they paused one moment; then came a strain still more wildly sweet than ever, at whose dying full the girls all agreed to be in ecstacies. While, however, they were indulging in their raptures, the musicians, though silent, were by no means inactive, for when of a sudden our young ladies recovered their sus- pended breath and amazed senses, and were making ready to fall into a fresh tumult of delight over some new miracle of song, they found that the sere- naders, as if to complete the wonder of their music by that of their conduct, had, as it were, vanished, evaporated, and were gone like bubbles. All the world knows the lulling effects of music. This hardly ceased when Clara and Estelle made THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 323 haste to fall asleep. Even Irene's late discomposure was conjured away, and she speedily fell into what are classically termed "the arms of Morpheus," with which wide-embracing arms all three maidens re- mained fast enfolded until late next morning, when, after some fruitless tintinubalation of bells, a maid- servant was sent up to summon them down to breakfast. Entertainment after entertainment followed in quick succession. Some of them were made in honor of our three young beauties; in all they bore a shining part. It was a round of these heartfelt gaieties in which the sociable South so much loves to give a loose rein to its native liveliness in feasts or dances, or woodland parties-now of the town, now of the neighboring country mansions, at which ele- gance reigns rather than fashion, and enjoyment more than show. They were the revelry of people all genteel, unaffected, who loved enjoyment, but hated rivalry and abominated a blaze. One grand city ball alone there was of some pomp. Its par- ticulars we shall not attempt, for we are not writing a Court Gazette. Our fair trio were taken to it and greatly admired, Irene in particular, whose remark. able beauty and graces made at once the conquest of a Southerner of distinction, a Mr. Haywood. The next day after this a colloquy between Mr. Winston and his wife occurred, which we must report. "What do you suppose, wife, made William page: 324-325[View Page 324-325] 324 SILVER LAKE; OR, Foster act as he did toward Irene, in not fulfilling his engagement for the picnic excursion?" "1 can not say, my love," replied Mrs. W.; but I am sure Irene is 'well rid of him. It was a rude- ness of that sort which is to be despised, not re- sented. His conduct, if capable of an excuse, has remained without even the attempt, until now it is too late, and he must be left to discover that no fur- ther notice will be taken of him; but there is a mys- tery about the matter which may presently clear itself up. You remember that Lila was at home that day, and Diley told me that he was here; that Lila saw him, and that the two had a private oonfab upon the balcony." "Tut, tut, my dear," laughed her husband; "don't pay any attention to what that servant Diley says, for I am sure she cannot be relied upon for veracity. She has traveled around too much with Miss Lila and caught her disposition. Whenever Lila gets provoked with her, she says she is a terrible story- teller and can not speak the truth at all; then she wants instantly to sell her to the negro-traders. Sometime, when she gets in these takings, I think I will just take her at her word and send the girl off, partly to be rid of her and partly to rescue her from the cruel usage which she gets from Lila, who is, you know, very philosophically given, and a bit of an emancipationist." "But, dear," said Mrs. Winston, "Diley belongs THEE ELL OP BAYOU LOUIE. 825 to you, does she not? I thought that long ago. Lila parted with her claim in her." "Well, she did, my love, and then the girl begged so hard for me to purchase her that I did it, design- ing her for your sister Irene." "Oh, oh!" cried Mrs. Winston. "'So you drqw up the writing in that form, did you? Well! I was not aware of that. It accounts for Lila's ill- will toward my sister." "Well, if I see anything of that," said Mr. Win- ston, '"I will take her to task at once. At any rate, whenever Irene marries, the girl is her's, though I never have told Irene or the girl either of it. And now, speaking of Lila, I will tell you what, out of pity for her, I have concealed from even you. From her very childhood her disposition was very way- ward; my mother had great trouble with her; she never was noted for her veracity; indeed, she asa a foundling. That fact was always a kind of family secret, for my mother could not, even after she began to display her wild inclinations, cast her off. But th ere seems to be some taint in the girl's blood. What is bred in the bone will comel out in the flesh, you know. In spite of the careful education which Lila received, she would constantly show low pro- pensities. I have always thought that. her origin must have been very low. When, after five years absence in pies unknown, she came back to us, bringing thi4 slave with her, I had. my doubts-as to the -manner in which shbecould have acquired her. , page: 326-327[View Page 326-327] 826 SILVER LAKE; OR) But she averred that she had purchased her with her own money, and, though I knew her to be a poor authority, I could not attempt to sift the matter, for how or where was I to begin my inquiries when no clue to her doings existed, save in her own hands or those of Diley, either her timid victim or her confederate." The conversation ceased, but not without leaving on Mr. Winston's mind, as he continued to ponder- on the facts, a serious impression. He saw that Lila must, from her secret dealings with another suspicious personage, Billy Foster, be engaged in some sinister project. If it existed, it probably aimed at Irene, and, therefore, at the peace of his family. "It shall go hard," he finally said to him- self, " but I will unravel your mystery for you, my sweet friends! And woe to you if I catch you at any treacherous practices! But the surest is to keep an open face and a close watch; you'll soon grow over-confident and betray yourselves!" This course of a silent watchfulness had at least the advantage of leaving Mr. Winston's family an unbroken calm, and they went on in these daily rounds of amusements, in the intervals of which the girls resumed their studies or pursued musical exer- cises, and all went most pleasantly. Meantime Irene was becoming the object of very assiduous attentions on the part of one of the gentle- men that last appeared upon our scene, Mr. Hay- wood. He soon made it evident that he was growing THE BELLE 0F BAYOU LITE. . 82 deeply enamored. Nor was it easy for Iroeneto re- main insensible to the admiration of a person, not only of high reputation and large fortune; but of most winning address, and abounding in all those amiable qualities and accomplishments that serve to complete'a strong character and a high understand; ing. Indeed, he and Irene seemed so much made and modeled for each other that it only needed that they should be brought to see what all others per- ceived in, order that a match should be brought about. Mr. Haywood had very quickly made his part of the discovery; nor was it long before Irene, with the assistance, on his' part, of some very pas- sionate love-maiking, came to have her eyes equally opened. Of course, everything smiling upon their rapidly-formed attachment, the whole course of their true-love ran, for once, most smoothly,b and an engagement ensued, with the warm approval of Mr. and Mrs. Winston, and of the parents, at a distance, as soon as they could be consulted. An early day was thereupon fixed for the marriage. CEAPTERi L III. CLARA MEETS WITH MNTA, HER MAID. Clara had, like Irene, a favorite haunt, a sort of grotto, which overhung a tiny lake at the bottom of the garden. Thither she often betook herself to- page: 328-329[View Page 328-329] 828 81!tE gV iAt ; OR, read, occasionally turning, however, from her book to divert herself with the gambols of the fiuny tribe that played along the-shore [teneath the rocky recess in which she sat, whence she- could watch their- play, or even- set it on, by tossing to them bits of bread-, for which they -contended One evening, a few days after that which finished the courtship between Mr. Hay-wood and Irene, Clara was seated in this pretty little niche, and was amusing herselt as usual with her friends, the minnows, when she was softly accosted as follows: "Good ebening, missus," said a voice, which sounded familiar to Clara, and came from near at hand, She looked, and saw a negro woman stands ing close beside her. "Good evening, auntie," replied Clara. "How do you do?" d I thank you ma'am, I'se berry well; how do you find yourself? You'se watching de fiesh, is you, young missus?" she continued, not waiting for Clara to reply. Oh, yes; I love to see them eat as 1 throw them crumbs; they remind me so much of Silver Lake and my home in the South." "Well, missus, I comes from dar, too," said the woman. "From Silver LIake:- Did you, indeed? And who did you -belong to, auntie?" said Clara, not a little surprised. ' Well,I doeasnt know- as I ought to-tell y9o THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 329 now, ma'am," replied the woman, "'kase de ting done happened so long ago. But I 'spec as- how you'se got to know it, and now de sooner de better for dis nigger dat is come to 'pentance, if a nigger ebber is," ' What do you mean, auntie?" said Clara, "'who had half forgotten the jargon which the far-down Southern negro speaks. "Well, ma'am, 'tis a good long road I has to trabble 'fore I can 'splain all. But doesn't you know me?" "I know you? How should I? What is your name, auntie?" "Well, ma'am, doesn't you 'member Miss Bella Dunstan, long time ago, at de Drennon Springs?" " It seems to me I have a faint recollection of such a person. What of her, auntie, please tell me?1 "Well, ma'am, she is on dis place, and so is dat gal, Minta, who almost raise you." it Oh, mercy! What do you mean? Mnta, my maid, here on Mr. Winston's place? That can not be. You must be mistaken. I've not seen her if she is," said Clara, in wonder. "Yes ma'am; and I'se de berry gal myself dat lef you and my blest missus, and followed long wid dat 'ceitful woman." Then, drawing near Miss, Clara, and speaking in an under tone, she added: ' Yes, honey, I'se de berry goose dat had no more sense dan to listen to her tales. Oh, sigh nice, sweet stories as she tell me! Well, neber mind, honey, all page: 330-331[View Page 330-331] 330 SILVER LAKE; OR, is working round right, and, please God, I'll be back dar yet." ("Why, how you surprise me! Who would have thought of you being Minta? I remember how shet looked, but it was not as you look now. Why, Minta, you have lost your front teeth, and you have grown so tall and thin!" "No wonder, missus, kase I've neber had a happy moment since I dun lef my good missus-God knows I aint!" said she, looking very sorrowful and her -eyes filling with, tears. (' Now dey tells me you is gwine home to de ole plantation 'fore many days. Missus, wont you fetch me 'long wid you?" 4"Oh, I cannot say, Minta, until I write to papa." 4' Well, ma'arn, please do write to massa, and- tell ihim and my missus I'se crazy to get back home agin." "I will, Min-ta," said Clara, whose feelings of at- tachment for her maid had now returned. "But who owns you now, Minta?" asked she, in a kind tone. "Dat hateful woman, Miss Lila," replied Minta. "Miss Lila-! Why, how comes that, Minta? Where is the Miss Dunstan that you spoke of just -now?" "Oh, ma'am, de old sarpent aint nebor no cun- ninger den she. She dun got two names; when at deoSprings and trablin' she is Miss Dunstan, but when she's here she's Miss Lila. Mr. Winston he know nottin' 'bout what I'se gwine to tell, and she done 'TE BBELL OP BAYOC TEE. 83- -b me anudder name ,too. She's feard dey'll ketch -her stealin' nigger, and sen' her straight to de peni- tenshery, She change her name, she change mine, just like de debel dat dori't like he own christen':d name but make he friends call him Nicka' J Well, Minta, I never was more astonished in my 4ife than at this moment. 1 -hall tell papa -and mamma, and my friends, too, for they must know of all this. But where have you -becn these -five years?" "Why, miss, Hhas done been 'long wid-dat artfal ereatur. Yes, ma'am, dat's jus w;hat 1 has; and I has a heap to tell iMiss Irene 'bout de skeming dat's :going on aginst her to spile- her weddin'. ;Miss Li}a tink she dredful smart.; but when massa Winstoun come to know her tricks wont he make her scamper out ob dese parts, justilike a monkey up a bean ,paole." "Well," said Clara,= about to start to the housei, "don'tslet her know who I am, Diley., , Oh, no, masam, I shan't . but, missus; spose you take dis letter and show it to Miss Irene. It will explain her everyting dzy is 'boutn' -No, no, Minta. I would rather not. It will be best you should seek Miss Irene and tell her you know all.-about it. When -Mr. Winston hears of it he'll know well what to do." Clarar nowTreturned to the house, where she at nee sat downand wrote to,-er papaan exaat page: 332-333[View Page 332-333] 832 S1LVE t LAKE; OR, account of Minta's reappearance and singular dif closures. Meantime that not very " fair penitent" had made her way to, Miss Irene and put her in possession of both her story and the letter, fabricated in the young lady's name, to Mr. Haywood. Irene at once saw the necessity of the case, and referred the whole matter to Mr. Winston's superior judgement. He, at a glance, saw that this plot, for which he was on the watch, had now (as he expected) betrayed itself through the rashness- of its ownr contrivers. The hate of Lila had blinded her cunning, and Foster was, at best, a scatter-brain; so they had, in their eagerness for revenge, devised the dangerous plan of forging a letter from Irene to Mr. Hayw-ood, declin- ing all further thought of marrying, him, on the ground that she found it impossible to get over a previous attachment or vanquish her aversion to him. In short, they made her request, in the most mortifying terms, to be no more annoyed by the sight of him. They trusted to his want of familiar- ity with Irene's handwriting for escaping detection on that side, and to his Southern man's pride for Irs at once casting her off forever and disdainfully going home without a word' of explanation. Thts far the plot was an excellent plot. It was only in the exe- cution that it fell through; as " the best laid schemes of mice and men will often do." It was necessary to have their own confidential emissary, who would seem to Mr. Haywood to be Irene's when her simw- TORE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 833 lated letteerswere brought. Hence, Minta rmust be used. They thought themselves sure ofher through fear and hope-fear of Miss Lila, hope of freedom, the reward which thdy held out to her. Hence they had let her into their whole project, and put themselves completely in her power. When Mr. Winston had heard her revelations, he perceived that they must, in the mainbe true; they were not such as the negress c% diinvent, and tal- lied too well with other facts well known to him. Besides, the letter to Haywood, when delivered to him and read, would either establish or overthrow the servant's story. All must then go to him. Uinder the existing relations, it was but natural that Mr. Haywood should be a daily visitor at Winston- house; his customary hour was at hand; the whole matter could be cleared up as soon as he arrived. He came, accordingly, in a little while; received and read his letter; heard Minta's statement, with the commentary of Mr. Winston, and came to the conclusion, somewhat vehemently expressed, that it was an extremely villainous affair, the feminine culprit in which he was willing to leave to the law, or Mr. Winston., or Col. Huntington; but that, as to the male culprit, he (Mr. H.) should consider him-, self bound to horsewhip him at sight. In a few days after this conversation took place, and Mr. Haywood found all about the reputation Foster privately bore, he thought he was not worthy ofany gentleman's notice. page: 334-335[View Page 334-335] g34 sILVER LAKE; O,R The conversation continued, however, until a cooler conclusion was reached; the plot had ex- ploded, without hurting anybody but its authors^; the stolen negress would be restored to her- master ; and that luminary of philanthropy, Miss Dunstan,. alias Lila, and that flower of chivalry, Billy Foster, should be civilly warned to vanish to the more pro. pitious clime of Canada, lest the dogs of the law should be set on them for kidnapping and swindling. CHAPTER LIV. MARRIAGE OF IRENE AND MR. HAYWOOD. AND DEN OUEMENT. They fled, accordingly, to other scenes of elegance and enterprise, leaving Clifton to such calm as an approaching wedding permits. Not there, however,. was it fated to be celebrated. The venerable parents of Irene wrote to say, most tenderly, that, while they could in nowise forego the delight of giving. her away, in person, to one so worthy of her, yet they were too infirm to travel, and they must there- fore beg their dear children to come and be marriedc under their ancient roof. It was very humble, irn comparison with Clifton, but it was Irene's birth- place, dear as such, but about to be still dearer as the scene of her espousal. Of course nobody resisted, or wished to resist, as THE BELLE OF BAYOU LUIE. 335 appeal so touching-Irene and her affianced lord least of all. So all was made ready, and, on the ap- pointed day, by railroad, in some three hours, they reached and alighted at a station, only some ten minutes walk from which lay the very modest, but pretty and pleasant rural abode of Mr. Wilby. The party soon approached the home of Irene's childhood. It was a neat, whitewashed double cot- tage, around which everything wore a cheerful aspect. It stood upon an eminence, and overlooked wide grain fields, mixed with pastures yet green and fresh looking, where sheep and lambs were feeding in their innocency. Just as they reached the upper end of the lane they met fine horses going to the barn to be fed. A little further on stood some milch cowsand close to them an old man husking the long cars of the yellow maize, and flinging it to the sleek, comely, large-uddered mothers of the fat cheeses. Hard by were well stocked pens where his pigs and hogs were fattening on large pieces of pumpkin which had been chapped for them. Chancing to look up, the old farmer saw the travelers, and forthwith started toward the house to give notice to his helpmate. She instantly ap- peared at the front porch door, and raised her hand to her eyes to glance from beneath its shade across the rays of the setting sun, which fell into. her face and almost blinded her. Anon she cried, "It is our daughters for whom we are looking this evening! Now, get your coat on, and go out and meet them, page: 336-337[View Page 336-337] 836 SILVER LAKE; OR, Don't let Ringo bark; he might frighten them, father." Thus speaking, the old lady seized a broom, which stood in a corner near the door, and began rapidly to sweep out the light leaves which were blown in by the breeze upon the porch floor. Mean- time the father advanced to meet his children, and gave them a cordial greeting; but he had only had time to begin, when the mother, her porch floor being set in order, burst in with a flood of joy, and swept away all other gladness; she flung her arms around her daughters necks, and fondly kissed them, while tears, eloquent of happiness, streamed down her cheeks. When she calmed down a little they introduced her to the two girls, and she gave them a welcome to Beechwood Cottage. Homoly as was the scene, and rustic its whole air, the heart of Irene was too true for any touch of mortification at its contrast with city splendor. She loved, instead of being ashamed of, all this sim- plicity, as the nurse of virtues, of sense, and a hap- piness, a contentment that fly from towns, their pomps and vanities. She knew that her parents were very superior people in everything but fashion- ableness, and that Mr. laywood knew how to estimate them. After a little while her two brothers, younger than herself, dropped in, kissed their sis- ters, cast a sly glance at the two girls, and soon dis- appeared again upon the farm. They shed tears when they were told that their sister Irene was going far away; but, child-like, soon forgot their THE BELLE -OF BAroUT LUIE. 337 sorrows, and, as night came on, they played at ( hide and seek," in the moonlight, and, ;after a few turns, were joined by the young ladies, Clara and. Estelle. An early supper was to be served up, not of costly luxuries, but the dainties of the farm-house. Irene preferred to assist her rnother all she could in arranging the repast. It was charming to see her resume, with youthful grace, her girlish office of maid of the pantry. Beneath her fair hands the materials of a rural feast were soon prettily arrayed. From the spring house, golden cakes of delicious butter, bowls of cream' rich and sweet, curds and cheeses the most perfect; the storeroom poured out its sweetmeats: a noble cold turkey, a ham such as Westphalia never equaled, and smoked tongues the most savory, with a large dish of such fried chicken as makes the pride of Virginia, crowned the boaid, while cakes of sundry sorts filled the intervals; and finally, when the tea and coffee came in, and the guests took their places, and the attendant clergy- man had said grace, a stream of waffles, Sally Lunds and other hot breads began to flow in, that ebbed not for an instant, until no chin could wag any longer, and the company, satiated and jocund, with- drew to the quiet and quaint, but ample old sitting. room, that was shortly to stand in place of a chapel. Supper down, 'twas but a leap to the altar, for, all must, to-night, go swiftly. People must, as soon as married, take to flight, so that all matches are now page: 338-339[View Page 338-339] 338 SILVER LAKE; OR, runaway matches. Yet surely there are things so solemn that they should not be done in a hurry. Marriage and burial are, perhaps, among such. At all events, we must not attempt a minute a account of the ceremony, nor even of the attire or looks of the ladies. We shall, for the marriage rite, refer our fair readers to their prayer-books; for the dress, to the "Modiste's Magazine;" and for the charms, to Heath's "Book of Beauty"To the espousals succeeded what is equally indescribable, because so often described, the congratulations. These came fast and thick, in showers of kisses upon the bride, and warm felicity to the bridegroom. But now the hour for setting out on a fresh jour- ney arrived for the new-made spouses. After many adieus, the tenderest, they hastened to the neigh- boring station, took seats in a train that presently rattled up, and forthwith rushed away upon the "wings of steam." It was to the mansion of Walter's grandmother they were speeding, the first stage in their route to Silver Lake. Clara and Estelle expected to rejoin, at F-, their brothers and Alonzo, who were, after a few days' delay there, to accompany them South. At F --, however, sad tidings awaited Clara. Her grandmother had died a few days be: fore, after only a brief illness. The young gentle- men had arrived from their excursion on the plains, but too late for Walter to have the consolation of TH BELLE OF BAYOU LUIEs 839 closing the old lady's eyes. She had expired bless- ing him, and had made him her sole heir. Worldly goods bring with them a necessity almost, as painful as the being without; them-the necessity, we mean, oflookingafterthem. Walterstood nowinr this predicament. But Mr. Haywood kindly came to. the aid of his inexperience, and so effectually assisted4 him that in some three weeks his affairs were put in complete order, and the whole party were able to. resume their way South, for their next stage, Nat- chez, near which lay the habitation and the noble, domain of Mr. Haywood. There, after a few days) they were joined by Col. Huntington, and left by Walter and Dulzeeka, whom business called to New. Orleans. The girls and the good Colonel remained behind to help Irene in aeeustoming herself to the difficulties and fatigues of managing a large estab- lishment, where some five hundred souls were to be taken care of and a profuse hospitality was main- tained. None of the duties nor the pleasures of life were forgotten, for, in the South, the latter are re- garded as a rational part of the former. Ono evening the gentlemen proposed a fire-hunt: -an amusement very common in that quarter. The party engaged in one take to the forest with rifles and on horses trained to the chase. Oane of the huntsmen leads the way with a pan tied to a pole by way of a handle. In this pan are placed very fat pieces of pine or light wood, which gives a very bright light that last for hours, and is renewed, Ik page: 340-341[View Page 340-341] 340 SILVER LAKE; OR, at necd, from a supplementary stock carried along, as they advance through the favorite haunts of the deer for feeding or couching. At the noise and this strange blaze the startled creature sounds his pecu- liar note of alarm-a sort of loud whistle, and, in- stead of taking to his trusty heels, loses his senses and stands aghast and agaze, his large bright eyes fixed on the flaming fire-pans. And now comes his destruction! His beautiful lustrous orbs of vision catch and reflect vividly the torchght; they be- come shiningly visible to the marksman, direct his uncrring aim, and he fires! The poor animal usually falls, struck through the head. The aports- man springs from his horse, hastens to him, plunges his knife into his throat to make sure of him, rap- idly disembowels him, trupes him up with straps behind his saddle, and then resumes the hunt. It is a very fatal way of banting. A small party will, in this way, kill, in a few hours, five or six deer in woods where they abound. Our party were, on this occasion, quite successful; they had killed three fine deer, and turned to make their way home again. They still, however, kept alive their torch, for, during their return, they might still fall upon fresh victims. Little did they imagine that a hunt of another sort-a humamn :hunt of re- i vengeful treachery was at their heels. Mr. Hay- wood, a great adept in the sport, was their torch- bearer and guide. He was skillful enough not only to flash the light in the eyes of the game, but to 4 THE IELLE Of1 VAYOU' LUIE. 34 bring it down with his rifle at the same timne. As they- were slowly making their way through the forest, he suddenly heard, quite near him, the tread of what he supposed to be a deer, and, stopping his horse, turned the blaze of his light to the side from which came the nioe. As he did so a pistof cracked, and the ball, piercing his cap, grazed so closely along the top of his head as for a moment to stun him. A slight casual bend of his neck, to peer lower through the brushes, was all that had saved hirm. At the sound of the shot his companions hastened to him. He was sufficiently recovered to point to the spot from which he had been fired at. The three instantAy dashed forward to seize the lurking assasin. As they did so a second shot was fired at them, but without harm, and instantly they heard the steps of a man in rapid flight, of whose figure they presently caught a glimpse. A fierce pursuit was forthwith set up. The would-be murderer had relied upon the difficulties of a tangled forest in aiding his escape; but he had to deal with admirable horsemen, familiar with woodland riding, and mounted on perfectly trained horses. They soon pusued him very close; no windings nor dodgings could evade them. At last they drove him to the bank of a deep and swift stream,- which cut off all further retreat, unless he could swim it. He took the plunge, however, boldly enough, and, for a moment, seemed likely to get across; but apparently striking some unseen obsta. ele; bushes or a stake, was so entangled or hurt, that page: 342-343[View Page 342-343] 423 8ILVEM LAKE; OR, presently he sank. It was useless for the pursuers to do anything further for the night, so they took their way homewards, full of wonder and guesses at the strange crime against one of them which 'had been attempted. Early on the morrow they rteturned to the spot, sup. plied with a few implements, such as a search in the water required-ropes, grappling irons and the like. Two light canoes were also taken thither on wheels, and the alarm having been spread throughout the neighborhood, many persons assembled at the scene of the drowning. Mr. Htaywood was exceedingly l9ved and esteemed far and wide around; he was not kn6wn to have a personal enemy, nor could any traces be discovered of any suspicious person that ihad been seen outside of Natchez. The most active of the crowd fell to examining the stream on all sides, but nothing could be discovered, and they were fain to postpone all further search until the natural action of decomposition should swell the -body and bring it to the surface. On the second day this happened, and some fishermen engaged at their' 'sport a mile or so below discovered the body of the ruffian. It was brought ashore and an inquest was held, which detected upon the person of him who had perished in a perfidious attempt upon the life of another a pocket-book containing, among other pa- pers, the following letter: "To WILLIAM FOSTER: Before this shall reach you I shall have died by .poison. -Ioan -endure no THE BELLE orP BAYOU LOUIE. 848 longer my miserable life. Not one friend have I ever had, in spite of all that nature and education have given me. In short, there is nothing left for me but to go meet my God, if there be one. I can not have even theconsolation of revenge upon those who have made me an outcast and suicide. ' LILA." To Mr. Haywood and his friends, who alone could identify Foster, this wretched note told the whole tale. Its wicked author and her villainous con- federate had fallen the just victims of their own mis- deeds. The amplest poetical justice had overtaken them both, and closed in blood their lives of fraud and malice. There remains for us nothing further of historical duty but to take care of the opposite fates of those excellent people, young and old, who have made the chief figures of our tale, and given it whatever' o, interest it possesses. Col. and Mrs. Huntington continued to enjoy, down to an old age, as happy as it was amiable, the blessings which heaven had 'bestowed upon them. :Not many months after the incidents which we last related their child, Clara, was, greatly to their de- light, married to Dulzeeka Jus. The festivities with which their -nuptials were celebrated had hardly ceased, when fresh ones, equally glad, were brought about by the union of Walter and Estelle. All these were cases of earlier marriage than- is often prudent. Yet so well and purely brought page: 344-345[View Page 344-345] 844 SILVER LAKE,. &C. up had all parties been, the youths so generously, to such manliness, the maidens so tenderly and ele- gantly, in such a sacred idea of duty, and whatever becomes the woman, and makes her the blessing and crown of domestic life, that matches more for- tunate could not well be. Not that they escaped but that they knew how to bear, the share of sor- row which heaven allots to even the most virtuous. In short, happy in a largeness of possessions- which, in the unavoidably rural life of the South,. less cor- rupts the heart than it does anywhere else happy in the control of a large body of dependents, whose ser- vile condition their care all the while softened into contentment; happy in a society around them as amiable as it was elevated, at once simple and re- fined; but happiest in themselves, and the well-nur- tured progeny around them. Fate seemed to be spinning their existence in a twine of only gold and silk, when an invasion came, the most ruthless ever poured upon any Christian country, and swept away everything of happiness before it. We must not forget to add that Alonzo Logan, after remaining several months upon Bayou Luie, took his departure for Havana to fill his engage- ment with Wannetto Casting, where their festivi- ties were commemorated. with great pomp and display. Now, kind reader, I leave you, thanking you for your company through my series of travels; and may I have entertained you is my sincere and ardent wish. THE END.