Milrose, or, The cotton-planter's daughter
page: (TitlePage) [View Page (TitlePage) ]MIROSE OR, Jze ,atf11lt I 4wkt,~ ATALE OF 8OUW 1AOIN A* BY DR. JQ H. ROBINSON.. v as . *go. 411 s ox* P DERIO A. BRADY, PUBLISHED '( f t _t i " ZA7 " i . a ~ w page: [View Page ] f' 3. " , / ' ' 1 . r ri { Y y', ENTERED'according to Act of Congress, in the year 1862, BY CiAULDWELL, SoUrnwoRnra dWHITNEY, in th lqa e fi)Distrj$ q64 (rehe S&ntirn DIt fttew York. 1" . ' f , , r " -y a i ; . 4 : , ,' m MILROSE; OR gut tfl ' U tH CHAPTER I. PETER nUT. The balmy winds of the Sea Islands went rip- pling across the green belts of intervening water to the main land, breathing blandly on plan-' tations of cotton and swamps of rice, break- ing, finally, in Ianguid'waves on a far-stretch- ing, barren shore of pine woods, in the narrow, irregular openings of which"Haight be seen scattered, at varying distances, the ill-construct- ed huts of thriftless whites, whose indolent, vag- abond habits form a peculiar and distinctive feature of Southern life. At a certain point in the foreground of this pine belt, between it and the sea, stood, at the' beginning of the civil war, the humble cabin of one Peter Rust, known for his eeeentricities and' wandering propensities all along the tide-water section, from Beaufort to Lake Desmniond, and whose means of existence was a subject of mys- tery and speculation. To some, he was knows as a wood-chopper ; to others, as a still-hunter'; procuring the simple necessities of life by lopg and silent tramps in the barrens, ranging at in- tervals, when' it suited his mood, the entire coast- to the distant Alleghanies ; while there were a few poor whites who shook their torpid ~1ads atnd hinted at darker game, and a more lucrative pursuit. Although Peter had a dwelling at the some- what ambiguous place we have named, it was .persistently affirmed by the suspicious and idle that be had other-haunts, and, despite his seem- ing loneliness, comrades and accomplices in the obscurities of the forest. Not choosing to as- sociate with the, lazy and the lawless, and keep- ing strictly 'his own' company, he made' ene- mies of those who, under any circumstances, would scarcely have made good . friends and trust companions. When the South arose in flaming wrath to welcome her Northern nei hbors. " with bloody hands to hospitable graves," Peter Rust was a marked man ; and none so hard upon. him as those butted drones who had nothing to lose in the game of war. Within easy eye-range of Peter's modest cab- in, rising on the crest of a graceful -swell, was a mansion of unusual size and architecture. This habitation, though built in a land of beauty and visited by soft, southern suns, had nothing warm and cheerful in its outward aspects, and repelled rather than invited the approaches of the curious. It was 'surrounded by a village of negro huts, which swarmed with life of every hue, from the eighth drop of the octoroon to the full quota of the genuine black. One morning, Peter Rust sat at his cabin- door, cleaning his double gun, when a man, whom he had seen more than once lolling in the sun near a smoky shanty in one of the pine openings in the vicinity, swaggered up to him with an air of importance that had much na- tive impudence in it." Peter aid npt notice his coming iI any perceptible manner. The per- son, after staring at him a moment, opened a mouth that extended from cheek to cheek, and said, between a grunt and a growl, pointing to the large dwelling on the slope : "Wanted oer yon!" Which ?" said Peter, carelessly, contriving to squirt some black water'from the vent of his gun into the nMan'sa ee. "Wanted up to Lowenthal's," he answered, wiping the sooty liquid from his face with the back of a hand that was a stranger to the uses of water. " What's the handle to sich a tyke as you be ?" asked Peter, pouring more water into the barrels,' . The fellow scowled and juarled at this easy style of address. "If you mean my name, it's Ben Dykes. Ben Dykes, of the pine openin's. Ben Dykes, of the turpentine woods. Ben Dykes, the longg 1 . 0a ~'l J'. ./YJl.I'~'./~'.I./'rJ.MI II N./'f.I./'J'JV N'l J'N.r ( f A iu + ", y r " f, - t Y - f. f ,F fia " f it page: 4-5[View Page 4-5] MILROSE; OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. range sIhotter. Ben Dykes, the dog-trainer. Ben Dykes here, and Ben Dykes there." " What a useful bein' you must be !" respond- ed Peter, aiming another jet of water at Ben Dykes' other eye. He squared off,'and mutter- ed: "Don't squirt no more o' that yer, mister !" Peter laid his twin barrels across his knees, and stared at Ben's mouth about long enough to boil an egg. He shook his head gravely. "Wonder it hadn't took your life," he said. " Wonder what hadn't took my life ?" asked Ben, sulienly., "If it had gone an in h further, 'twould took your head off!" continued Peter, with increas- ng seriousness. - "What took my head off ?" growled Ben. " How did it happen ?" added Peter, impree- sively,. " What happen, you slow-spoken pup?" yell- ed Ben, losing all patience. " Why, that gash under your nose. Hardly left enough for a hinge for the top to turn on-.- did it?" " G'long, you lank, slap-sided, lathy-legged, lantern-jawed, bob-tailed setter! Thar 1 take that!" Ben Dykes drew in a column of air that reached to the bottom of his tattered trowsers. " One o' the white trash, a'n't ye, Ben ?" queried Peter, again turning to his work. "«Better run back to your pups, hadn't ye ? Some o' them nigger-dogs that you're training' of may want ye. It must be interestin' to spend your time 'mong p'inters, blooders, and bull- pups !"' Peter threw enough cool contempt into' his voice to provoke Ben to his fighting temper. " I don't mind your fling at the dogs,'. he re- torted, hot with anger. "Snap at 'em ag'in, if you want'to. As for my mouth, it's as, natur' made it, and I'd thank ye to keep out on't." "'Twan't an accident, then ?" said Peter, thoughtfully, his eyes wandering as if mechani- cally to the debatable mouth. "If you don't stop, gapin' at me in that ar' way, I'll give ye a gash worth hatin' !" men- aced Ben. "But 'ta'n't my time to quarrel. As I tole ye, yer wanted up to Lowenthal's." "What if I don't choose to go ?" asked Peter Rust, quietly. "aTry it! try it ! Should like to have ye try it'!" Ben Dykes'was gleeful over this. " Tell Lowenthal I'm no man's man," an- swered Peter, calmly. "ISartin ! Sartin I'll tell him. He'll give it up, Lowenthal will !" He rubbed his two palms. together in a small spasm of satisfaction, and grinned dreadfully. . t - - "4Look out there, you Ben Dykes, or the kiv- er of your mouth'll tip back'ards !".cried Pe- ter, warningly. "'Twould be eur'ous to see your head hangin' on your shoulders, like a co- quettish gal's bonnet in a hot day." A change passed over Ben's face at that mo- ment. It was as if a ray of mischievious light had fallen upon the angry darkness of his ex- pression. He blazed up.with exultation. His visage said, distinctly: "I have you now, Peter!" " Look at me straight, you woo opper." " I'm lookin'," said Peter, whose self-posses- sion seemed never to forsake him. "Say Cotton is. King !" dictated Ben, with imps of malice sitting cross-legged and jubilant in his eyes. "Which ?"-inquired Peter, placidly. "You've got to mouth it !" cried Ben, snap- ping his fingers as netir Peter's nose as he could without hitting it. "Everybody's got to say it that's asked it, and anybody may ask it. .1oll it as a sweet morsel under your tongue, you thin-blooded, weak-kneed Yankee hound! The Shibboleth, Lowenthal calls it, and woe to them yer as can't pronounce it free and yearnest. Come, now; out with it. Here goes! Cotton is King !" "1I do nothin' on compulsion," said Peter, setting the twin barrels carefully on end against the cabin. " I don't keer," he went on, "wheth- er Cotton or Sweet Potaters is king. I'd as- soon it 'twould be one as othere. have which on 'em you like. Let it be Hemp, if you choose, or Flax, for thlat matter. A deal o' difference it'll make to a white trash whose king. As for niggers, you never owned one, and never will. You can lollop round in the sun like a dirt al- ligator, and that's about all you're good for. If you know when you're well-off, you'll take that mouth o' yours to bead-quarters, and let it for a commissary storehouse: it'll shed rain if you keep the kiver down." "If 'twasn't on other folk's business," mutter- ed Ben, drawing a knife from one leg of his tat- tered trowsers," I'd cut yer into l6ng, thin strips and hang you on a pole to dry !" Having cast this possibility at Peter, he stropped his knife on six inches of bare brown, arm. "If I fall afoul of ye," responded P'eter..with a steelish sort of glimmer in his quiet eyes, "you won't know King Cotton from Northern wool. You've got no courage, and you kuow it. Put up your cleaver and be source !' Ben Dykes slowly sheathed his weapon in Iis trowser's leg and backed cautiously away, grim- acing provokingly. b i - "Skedaddle !" cried Peter, rufflied bphis grin- ning diabolism. -"Go to- him as sent ye, and tell him I've my own affairs to mind." Ben performed a series of sinister panto-" mimes, and walked off with as much haste as his lounging habits would allow. Peter Rust-went on with his task in a mopd less, cheerful. He wiped the twin barrels dry MILROSE ; OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. and replaced .them in the stock with special care. Ehe gun was a fine piece of workman- ship. The barrels.beautifully finished, and fit- ted to the wood as if they had grown there, were of different weight- and calibre, and for dif- ferent uses ; one being a shot-barrel and the other a rifle. Peter Rust admired the weapon, and seemed never weary of looking at the hair- line-settings of the blue steel mountings, the thorough and flush-edged lock-work, the curli- ness of the sturdy old piece of English walnut, the smoothness of the oil finish, and the sym-' metrical completeness and perfection of the united whole. Dykes had looked at it more than once with covetous eyes. The following evening, while Peter was re- eling, half-asleep, under the branches of one of the line patriarchs at his door, he was surround- ed by a dozen mounted men, and informed that he was a prisoner. "Which?" asked Peter, rising and placing his back to the tree. The-word " prisoner -.was repeated by some one. " Who are ye ?" inquired Peter. " Confederates," answered he who had before spoken. " Confederates !" repeated Peter. "Two, four, six, eight, ten, twelve.. It only took from twelve to a dozen of ye to take me! And I ain't quite taken yet. I could make a pretty fight, if I's in the mood on't. But don't be afeard. I'll keep the peace as long as you." "Up to Lowenthal's with him !" said a voice that Peter knew very well. " Hillo I" cried Peter. "The man with the hinge j'int on the back of his head, is hereabout. Push him along, so I can see him. Ruther see him than a caravan. In all my still-walkings, up and down, ong and athwart, crossways and lengthways, eoastways and inland, I never run afoul of a eretur with his head cut off, afore." Peter stored in inimitable wonder at Ben Dykes. "Set it over night, and what a eat-trap 'twould make !' The men laughed. Ben muttered some pine barren invocations that were not brotherly. " Thee will come along !" said a large man, who had hitherto remained silent. Peter turned to the speaker instantly. The style of address surprised him.. "As there appears to be one decent man apong ye, I'd like to ask that man, if it a'n't takin' too much liberty, who he is, and what's wanted of me ?" I am," answered lie of the plain \language, one Mirtin Broadbent, of whom you may, per- chance, have heard, overseer of this plantation, agent, tool, instrument, and,,as it- were, right- hand of one Roscoe Lowenthal, landholder, slaveholder, householder, gentleman born, gen- tleeman bred, and rightful owner of the ground 6 you stand upon. I am duly commissioned to couduet, convey, transport and carry, one Peter Rust, wherever found, to yonder house on the hill. Beyond this I know not. Dispute my authority, which is derived from said Lowenthal himself, and of a truth I wrill coerce, constrain, force, enforce, and compel thee to go." This avowal was made with a semi-religious earnestness, in singular contrast to the bluster- ing, profane manners of the creatures who sat on their queer horses, squinting at Peter. " Was ever the like heard !" exclaimed Peter. "Was words ever so piled up? Hang that solemn Quaker tongue in Ben Dykes' hoss-shed of a mouth, and there'd be a voice for ye I" "No -more a boss-shed than your own!l" grumbled Dykes. " My time isn't worth nothing, " continued Peter., "Sprinkle some more words out o' your pepper-box, Mr. Broadbent." Peter looked so quizzical, that the lawless crew laughed inconcert. The Quaker, however, retained his gravity, which grew more ponder- ous as the hilarity of his assistants increased. " Is, the name, style, title, and temporal desi nation of thy outward corporality, Peter Rust?" he inquired, with the utmost seriousness. "Which ?" quoth Peter. Martin Broadbent repeated his question with scrupulous precision. "I never denied my name," said -Peter, " though a namesake of mine, once on a time, told a monstrous and cowardly lie." " Then thee will come along." Then to his aids: "If he comes not peaceably, lay violent hands on him, and constrain him with the strong arm." "If I must submit to this unlawful proceed- ing, I'll make a virtue of necessity, and go quietly. But I shall .hold ye, Mr. Overseer," Peter added, "responsible for this treatment. With your born and bred gentleman I have no business, that I know on, and don't care to have any." Rust cast a wishful look at his cabin, and was pushed and jostled toward Lowenthal's, by hands not over friendly. Ben Dykes lingered, and did not overtake the party for some minutes. Peter believed that the knave was looking for his double gun, but held his peace. CHAPTER IL LOWENTHIAL. While being hurried up the acclivity, he tried to make conversation with Martin Broadbent, but drew nothing satisfactory from him. That a man .of his sober faith should be engaged in such a questionable calling in the- cotton-fields of South Carolina, was to him a subject of astonishment. The evening was considerably advanced when Peter Rust was ushered into the house of Lo'i. . 4 page: 6-7[View Page 6-7] 6 MILROSE; OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. enthal. He cold not but notice, as he entered, that the place was much like a military camp. le saw, a little way off, shimmering in the moonlight, a cluster of white tents, recently pitched. Lowenthal was a man between thirty-five and forty years of age, six feet in height, compactly built, features thin and dark, expression hard and keen. Ambition, cunning, and misanthropy, had made their respective writings on his face and character. Martin Broadbent, having conducted hima to this siniister present,- withdrew' without re- mark. Peter Rust was six feet and two inches in height, straight as his owf gun-barrels. ~ He was never more rigidly perpendicular than when Lowenthal was looking him over with his1 cold' eyes. He bore the scrutiny with patient firm- ness. While Lowenthal studied his man, Peter studied his. You were born at the North?" said Lowen- thal, by and by. ' "I might have been born at the South, had my mother been there at the time," answered Peter, dryly. "Keep your Yankee wit till it's wanted," said Lowenthal. "I'll keep it at the door'in calling distance, in ease there should be a demand fo- it. Poor market for it here, I allow," replied Peter. "For the work you're wan led for," resumed Lowenthal, with composure, "Lincolnite, abo- litionist, bloodtub, or -mudsill, are all, one to me. It's not your brains I want but your greasy, mechanical skill." "Go on," said Peter. "I am told," Lowenthal continued," that you can turn your hand to any craft. I have sent for you to put your'aptness touse. You needn't speak. I1,do the talking myself." Lowenthal rang a bell, then taking a revolver from a case, slipped it into a side-pocket. With wonderful quickness there appeared 'a negro of such gigantic proportions, that Peter Rust could do nothing but look 'at him. His body was a great column of flesh that towered ibove his own height like -an ebony' Colossus. His head wasa mass of crispy heir, giving back- round and moral support to an incredible sur- face of face, com ounded of lip and nose, mix- ed with cheek and chin, teeth and eyes, in a'very 'African manner. His sooty visage was scarred and hacked in a disagreeable fashion. One of his naked arms was branded--the letters, deeply: printed in fire looking like letters of iron im. bedded in the flesh. "Babel," said Lowenthal, with a wave of the, hand, "light us up." The black, who had obviously been expecting a summons, brought a large lamp which burned with a clear and steady flame, and, without an- swer, obeyed his mascr. Peter followed the giant, and Lowenthal wa.- ed behind, thus placing Peter between the two. He went forward firmly, for his nerves were not easily disturbed. They.ascended a flight of steps in a remote part of the mansion, passed through an upper hall, and finally mounted another staircase. Peter wAs surprised at the capaciousness of the house, which, when viewed from the outside, did not appear 'so spacious. Babel paused at the door of a room just under the roof, which was barely high enough for him to stand erect. With the broad, red flame of the lamp falling on 'his pug-nose, and two banks of 'lips, and the white rims of his eyes, he looked as much like 8atan ds anything Peter could think of. " Go ini!' said Lowenthal. Babel shuffled in. Peter crossed the threshold, dubiously, and found himself in an apartment about ten feet by sixteen, having two narrow windows and a 'sky- light ; the latter being so arranged that, by stepping in a chair, a person of ordinary height could reach a looped cord by which it couldbe raised or lowered as ventilationrequired. " You see those windows and the roof-light ?,, said Lowenthal. Peter Rust replied that he did. " Now look to your left. You see these cook joists-don't you ?" " I see 'em," said Peter. "Very well. With those oaken bars you tire to seal u'p those windows, strengthen this dour, -and repair the weak places in the walls." "If I agree to r" muttered Peter. "There is but one. will in this house," con- tinued Lowenthal, hmperiously, "' and that is -mine'!" He made a motion 'to the black, who, placing the lamp in a wooden brackeb went to a little closet that had, till then, 'escaped Peter's no- tice, and thence took a gun, with a short brass barrel and bass mountings. The calibre of this ancient .fire-arm was such that a hand of moderate size might have been thrust in at the muzzle. Under ordinary circumstances, Peter would have smiled at sight of it ; but matters were growing too serious for smiling. " Is it loaded ?" asked Lowenthal, using his right arm as if it were a ramrod. Babel nodded his woolly globe of a head,sand held up four fingers, to signify 'that there were four balls in the blunderbuss. He then; opened the powder-pan, to show that the piece was primedd. Peter lost nothing of this dumb show. "Stand at this door," added Lowenthal, in an even, inflexible voice. " This mnudsill is not to go till the work is done. If he attempts to force his way hence, shoot him.". Peter remarked that as often as Lowenthal addressed the black, he gesticulated in a singu- lar manner, and that Babel kept his eyes stead- fastly fastened on his lips. He .seemed to speak. from the force of hagit, but to gestieulate for the niegro's apprehension. " Is this the way you gesier'ly get .your work- done :" Peter demanded, meeting. the eyes of Lowenhnalgfirmly. The latter po ted '-zthe 1i 'ber ar& ie windows. His face grew more de terindnain its expression. T was easy to see at. ad een habitually obeyed. Ba belwithls i$iiriebuss at his shoulder, planted; his- r ea odmin the' door. .. "Work!".saidLoentha.,' "I am no workman." answere&tPeer, caliil . "Most of 'my lite has been spent'min the w os,, with my gun formy, companion,,a drthe wild- game for .my food. ITknow li1tTbol the arts of common life. You havenade a mistake :about: my handiness, ingenuity, and, all 'tuit:' 'Seein' the whole thing's a blunder, 'Il'go my way and say no more on't." 'eter 'Rust watched the, effec'(f' his words,' but they passed over the stern surfaee of Low- enthal like the lightest zepIyr over a frozen lake. The still-hunter might as wellhave thrown up a window and dropped liis asyer out1 out of it. "You're down among the ,nudsls,",answer- ed Lowenthal,.with no apparent increase of im-' patience; -but'the tenor of his voice was bard" as iron. " Never lived drudging Yankee' that couldn't do whatever was wanted. Hammers and planes, chaffering -and gains, are their nat- ural weapons and aspiations. As their fathers were, so are they. Work !' 1 The white hand of the planter went quivering toward the windows again. The cheeks of Peter Rust burned red, at first ; then they paled'slow.ly Thire was something, like white lightning flickering in his eyes. "I am but a simple-minded man," he said, "and know little more than simple honesty. I s'pose tools and work are 'well enough in their way, but a deal too common for born gentle- men. You people down, here couldn't have housen to live in, if 'twasn't for Northern brains and Northern planes. You'd be obleeged to sleep under the open sky, with your slaves, if you had to trust to your own bone and muscle. But what's bone and muscle? Bone and mus- cle isn't for born gentlemen and born ladies, of course ! Bone and muscle is for niggers and Northern workers !" Peter looked down at the floor, and compress, ed his lips. Ile needed wonderful self-power to, govern his feelings, but he struggled for the vic- tory, and obtained it. Lowenthi1's lip curled scornfully, but he vouchsafed no:other reply. He paused on the threshold, as he passed Babel, and said, touching his lips and his breast: AGive him neither food nor drink till the work is done. When it is completed, inform me." The giant jerked his head like a great black audton. Pve-no tools, miuttered Peter ,Lowenthal pointed to a chest in the-:loset, 'and went4away. g r st 'at dqw n the lumber and pen- h ':e giant retaied apostion'-with the ign- pbility of £9neatatug,. Peter examined the room; Ie'noted the iidows, 3the wall, the eloset,,and Babel. :' ie' :latter engaged his at,- tention the longe~t.1 e spoke to'im aftertea minutes eontemplation, aud in this fashion: Itt was thes impest form pk'sqguiry. *Ie biack ave no sign ofheanri g hu, the gr. 'ite rims of his eyes being rold upwa rdI to the ceiling. 'Petev made a potion toattraet his attention, then repeated bia question. After a strange, suy-lingual riumbhlin ;his throt, lie pointed to hip earsandnopn . "eef nd '4emb " exclaimed leter. "Mig'ht as 'well talk to aggraven image. Thought Low- enthal 'mace a good finany tootions., Words or me, ,molins ,for .ism. .well, this is parties ar fine, this is, shut 'up with a black mute an, a loaded blunderbuss" deter podered agaia, and bit upon,-signs. Signs were just'the thing. He had talked with Choctaws ,with signs. "I 'have 'him on the hip, now," said Peter, making aloud. I'll talk with this deef and nmhdevil, in spite' of his teeth I" The concluding word of this resolution was suggested by the white glearn-of Babel's masti- cators through the 'reddepths of his. lips. He wanted .to ask him the use of that m, but when he came to look over his stock opan o- mine, he found it less copious thani he had im. agined. He swept his hanji around the cham- ber, and then aimed a forefinger dead at the giant ; and on his not seeming to understand,. repeated it with the words: "What'll he do with it, you ox?" Babel's head rolled negatively from pdy' tor side. " What a 'fool I" added Peter, in strong dis- gust. "A nat'ral idiot ought to knowed what that meant. If I had a plantation-whip,guess I'd bring him round so he'd know signs! ! Hre I be, shet up with a mammoth ox, that can't do nothin' but shake hishead and'twist his eye.. balls." Peter, being baffed, drew on his thinking. cap determinedly; but speedily forgetting he deafness and dumbness,' broke out with: " Look here, you gorilla ! Let' me out o' this, and I'll give ye a dozen dollars. A dozen? Two dozen-three, or even four, on a pinch." MIEROSE ; OR, THE, 0QTTO 1-PEANTER'$ DA UGHTER page: 8-9 (Illustration) [View Page 8-9 (Illustration) ] 8 MlL1ROSE; OR, THE COTTON-PLA TER'S DAUGHTER. 'hereawlas no ehatige in the 'Ulent' featetsr of Sabel; they were as fxed and upresp ind g as- beore.. . 4 + " "''lsh " Wh'at's the use'tklkin'to a hulk. that can't tell thunder from singin'?" " Ah ! nowJ'mquresof.linu !"{ Peter held uphit two hands, with all their outspread- i ei's : Wana thimbs, 'fiye distinct times' ;thend walked about"the room ith' the' most swaggering air of freedom .he.could put "'heire " he cried, triumphantly *Tht then ' "lift dllarss"a'd' berty p" ' ' dift=iflls'endilidrity, produced'no .'effect' d Babel" '.1e'ypt 'his n ute wtch;, hand on: Pui yes 'on 'Pteri 'Fter lboked'or results; tor a lighting up of the diulcountenance; fora glean erfi iie isinte1 ligciwe; 'for't delightful,' -quier of thee .uscles He aW nothing' "N9 use,! ' io tse I" murmured Pete. "He's got bfeand:1iise e utno lrains:'If his mas-; 'tee should yasthim from the'dbor, tand tell him le's a free nigger,'he wouldn'tsense it.' 'Give lim his osn soul and hisown rod as a pres- ent, and'he wouldn't know the vall di 'em, nor: Shank. yfor thp gift. 'Biftit hiis nathr'. He' tas made.t i work, as'a clock is' to strike ; and rhenvlie 'sdoii~ethat, ydn'fe'got'to the-end of Looking upjpst then, Petei- caught' Babel's' white rfr ' fistened 'on him in a nioht singular 'manner.' " If he had the .wit of a child,Td tell, him aboutthe war, and what 'i'gg was' tnad for," naused'thewood-ehopper,'aloud.' "'But 'twould be tirp wasted. Wonder' what 'hacked -'and sitee i' liini so? "That's his affer, and not irae 'MH business, 'at present; is With'one Pe- 'tprRut,now here, and ready to answer to his "riaine Peter! Peter I'What are you' goii'Ito, Thus ling to hii'sdlf oft of 'the' depths 'of AliQ 'niil the- wildering dweller of th'd 'pine 'bari-e's" fil er iis rsor'eies 'for da fitting ansdr. aouh' lie. woi'k"' or ''efse ? What were windows latticed n door' barredd 'for ? To make 'prldnId' Ajldfi'was for a pi-isoner. Who was.the 'prisonet'?' This wasa ,ntural chain ofreasoning; ;but he would go'-no fhrther for want of data. Ho started off frOrn saUotlirgohi. If he ednvert. -'ddth'e chamber into prdsoccording to the best of his 'ahilities? would'tlhat' 'be the end of' the niatter so far as ie was personally con- oerned?. Wrs' this to' b secret transaction, known only to the confidential agents of Low- enthal'? So fr as lie had the meanso f judging, he believed it''was. In' perforiiiig the labor forced upon;him.'did lie iot b'cmoe a paitv to' the proceeding, and hold id his 'hand a clue to 'ts exposure? Now eame the essential ques- -tion. 'Having acconplished the work. would he. be 'erinltted'to qo 'his way, without condition br-hindrance - 'he'conversion ' of the place into a prison being clearly a thing of the great. est importance to Lowenthal, Peter thought he perceived that' hid new and extraordinary diffi. pulties would not .enq with the last blow of the a'fer ~and the laststi-oke of the saw. " ealled to mind' the troubled state of the 'county, 'and the persaoutions that harried those suspected 6f Union. e'ritiments. The life of a "loyal inan was held' in 'light esteem. Startling rumors reached him daily. H, umble as was his position,,hfe was conscious that ill-nature, mal- 'ice, and suspicion had followed him to his quie The ''Windows barred,'the yainseotting sheath. ed,'the'door made 'matsive'-with oak, the labor done, amid the bolt shot home, would Lowenthal scruple 'to'hate him marched out and shot as leaealrhitor ? ' Would he hesitate to hay him put to death in any other manner that wa conveniet'oi' expedient?' 'The answrei .to these questionA were so evi dept. to'Peir, thet he mentally jotted the dowA af settled. e 'wbld networkk. He sat on the, cake stuff tillmidnight. The first hour was long10 the second 'longer. Babel squatted. on hia haunches'like an' overgtown toad, and seemed tilivious 'of" wood-choppers, still-hunters, or afy living creature. "r iring of inaction, 'Peter glanced occasionally at the'hest' of implements. A plan of action, through rather vague,"'was gradually forming. . At one o'clock be 'atose, and looked at the tools; aid," fteen minutes later, snuffed -the lamp with his thumb and finger, and began to 'measure, mar; and calculate. Presently, the saw 'eiiked in the hard lumber, and Peter was fairly at'o+k 'Babel; wl'o'bad sat motionlees, evinced more life; lie nodded, ,grimaced, and twitched his shiouiddrs. 'If this lumpish ahimal ever had Aln idea, it was in'him 'tlien, atrugglitig and twist- 'ing, and cramped for room. But the idea-if it Was one-died out after a little'while, and the White-rinimed eyes . grew cloudy . with sleep. Peter'niotied hiui'As little-as 'possible. ie had suih i skernirig f self-absorption, that be might bdve been thinking of the man in the moon, for aught his eistodian knew. He was fitting a bar to a window, and, to all appearance was faithfully busy. All was going on well. Babel's vigilance, which had been maintained at the -expense of sluiber relaxed more and'more. 'he white rims grew less and less, till there were but two hair-line eirces, which finally vanished. Peter queried ,whetlier blacks saw from the pupils of their eyes, or from the surrounding parts. He thought it a pity to disturb Pabel, and laid down the hammer whieh he had just taken up- i page: 10-11[View Page 10-11] 'MILROSE; OR, THE COTT There was a slight, a very slight sound some- where ; it was the 'soft rustle of a garment, and the gentle slipping of a foot on the floor. Peter Rust felt, rather than saw, a presence, at first; but, looking over Batel's head, his eyes were greeted with an unexpected sight. It was some- thing altogether mortal, however. It was a young woman of sixteen or seventeen years, who stood gazing at him over the squat figure of the black, with a terrified and wondering ex- pression. Her face, neck, and hands were white as a lily. . Peter spoke not, nor wished to. Never had feminine shape so surprised him. He was real- ly very practical and unimaginative ; but odd fancies for a moment disturbed him. The clear, singularly earnest eyes, with the dark and beau- tifully-arched line of brows above them pen- ciled so exquisitely on the snowy skin, bewil- dered his simple nature, and confused his natu- rally calm mind. Had the souls of young girls lived in lilies, the pearly whiteness of her com- plexion would not have astonished him. He had always supported the common-place phi- losophy that flesh was flesh, and clay was clay. But here was a pretty piece of humanity that entirely upset his theory. The circumstances, the hour, the terror, timidity, and beauty of the white-robed visitor, all had their effect on Peter, who knew not whether to advance or retreat, speak or remain silent. Babel was the stumbling-block. Babel was between them. Babel banned his tongue. Babel was a black doubt ; a miserable uncer- tainty. '. Being an honest and well-meaning man, he put his hand on his heart, and stood respect- fully before the girl, who appeared as much at a loss as himself, besides beingtfrightened.- ' He knew that young women did not tremble with- out cause, and his good sense immediately sug- gested one. Was the negro asleep? Was he really deaf, sleeping pr waking? The brain is inventive under difficulties. With chalk, he wrote, in large letters, on a piece of stuff : "Is this for you ?" He held the writing up in, the light of the lamp. .. She read the words and seemed distressed, but made no sign. He wrote again:' "It is a prison." She moved her head affirmatively. " Iam working against my will." She smiled faintly, and assented as before. Peter understood her as well as if she had said : " I know it ; I know it." " What have you done ?" he wrote. , She clasped her hands and looked silently upward-. " I'll swear that you never harmed a human ON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. 11 being I" he wrote. A grateful glow suffused her features. " For love!" Peter scratched this question on the rough beard with some hesitation, and was sorry when he held it up-that he had been so bold. He was treading delicate ground. The girl's incomparable whiteness did not change much. There was a slight smile, and a momentary drooping of the eyes, and no more. Peter did not feel answered. He stroked his. board, as if he had been guilty .of an offence, and wrote : "For money ?" He watched her eagerly. She stood unresponsive an instant, glanced apprehensively at Babel, sighed, and Peter be- lieved it was Yes. He was at a loss what to do next ; coaxing his invention a moment, his countenance be-, came animated. He wrote: " Can I help you ?" She shook her head doubtfully. "Is the black deaf ?" he added. .She nodded quickly. "Then why not-" began Peter, in a low voice. A warning gesture, and a terrified look stopped him of a sudden. Poor Peter was dreadfully perplexed. Her startled manner convinced him that he had been guilty of an indiscretion. Her small hands thrust toward him deprecatingly, made him feel like a criminal. 'She now seemed in the attitude of listening, but to what, he could not tell, for he heard nothing. While standing expectant, wondering what next would happen she flitted from the door, and out of sight. Peter looked a moment at the spot where he had last seen her, then fell to work indus- triously, making a great clattering about the ears of Babel, who, as far as he could discover, was in no manner disturbed by the din. Rais- ing his eyes presently, he saw Lowenthal at the door, watching him. The flight of. his mysterious visitor had led him to anticipate the coming of this man. From Peter he looked to the black, whose eyes were still closed. Without a word, he raised a small walking-cane which he had brought with him, and gave him a cruel cut across the face. The-negro sprang up, enraged, but seeing Lowenthal, he gradually relapsed into his for- mer stolidity, with the exception of an occa- sional twitching of the muscles of his face. "So you have' gone to work ?" said Lowen- thal to Peter. '"I thought you would. Who has been here ?" Peter measured a stick, and began to saw. " Who has been here I" repeated Lowenthai, frowning. r I It . I 1 page: 12-13[View Page 12-13] 12 MILROSE ; OR, TIIE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUQ :TER. Peter neither paused, nor looked up, nor an- I "Perhaps all this that you're doing' '11 be ti swered. le pushed the saw doggedly. your advantage," thought Peter, but he diJn', Why don't you 'speak ? Are you deaf and say it. dunil, too :" exclaimed Lowenthal. "I know what you'd like," added Lowenthal, 't:s- my greasy ineclianical skill that you "but you can't go! Be content. Work! want,.and nothing moree" answered Peter con- He walked toward the stairs,. and then cane po3 'i; . .ss bac', and said - " t'ot rn ass!", muttered Lowenthal. "tDon't look after other men's seer-ets. Be " Brains and intelligence are for born gentle- as simnple-minded as you seem ; and when you ten !" rt(orted Peter. "I'm nothing but bone go from here----" lie stopped, and looked strange- n:td muscle. Goo away ! don't talk to bone and ly at the wood-chopper ; "and when you go tu:.cle I" from here," he repeated, with singular slowness, " What's that writing ?" asked Lowenthal, ab- " don't tell what you have seen." ruptly, as his eves fell on some of the charac- Peter felt weak in the knees. Uncommonly tees Peter had traced. weak in the knees felt Peter ! There was noth- Peter was dumb again. ing the matter with his nerves, they had always "Wit is the meaning of this ?" added Low- answered his purpose. exceedingly well. Dan- enthtl, angrily. gers he had met in forest and field, and faced " Von who can write, and read writing when them manfully. But cold diabolism was new it is written, ought-to know," replied Peter, in- to him. He had traced cunning beasts of prey, noce tle. whose habits were familiar ; but- here was a "Is it Babel ?" mused Lowenthal. "N,, the kind of subtlety that lie bad never' followed. black cannot write nor read. Who would be so Here was a thing that trod silently in a path so presumtuous as to learn a nigger of mine to hidden, that he was at a loss to find the masked read ? 'It is not the work of Babel." Then to trail.. - Peter' "Be not deceived ; I know youNorth- " Don't tell what you have seen !" lie mentally inca: you are full of tricks and devices, non- said. ' sense and notions, chaffing nand bargaining, lie went to the door to look after him over craft and subtlety. You are a race of itinerant Babel's head. He heard the word, " WORK !" schoohtnasters, possessing the eurnag of learn- and had a glimpse of Lowenthal's vanishing fig- ing without its dignity. Those that won't work ure. He returned to his labor with less ardor will id lie. The South has broken from the and more seriousness. He was absent-minded, degrading-association with such. She will give made frequent pauses, stroked his beard in deep law to the North, but she'll take none." reyerie, and now and then stared at Babel as if "' o I've heard! Iow'll you have that door he were a long way off. fixed, squire.r' answered Peter, without appear- - -' "-- ,- ing to have understood Lowenthal in the least. CHAPTER IV. SSomiething has passed here," resumed the ON T tt E B A C O N Y . latter, glancing at the characters that lie was The young girl who had appeared to Peter Rust too proud to approach' and examine. " But so mysteriously, was the step-daughter of Lowen- treaison lurks everywhere ; even under my own thai ; and there was nothing supernatural about roof." her, -except her beauty, which was so reinarka- "Enoughi," muttered Peter, "to paake a ble that Peter may be forgiven if he thought, dozen Benedict Arnolds. What more there is, for a moment, that an angel had come to him. I don't know." She was not an angel, and had ito wish to be " Better not try to know !" responded Low- one. Angels are not common, though this enthal, in a sinister tone. "Knowing too much young girl was pretty, and, I believe, good has made many a man know nothing. I knew enough to belong to that anomalous race. a person, once, who knew too much. I ob- A very interesting object is a lovely feminine served that that person was short-lived." c'reature of seventeen, in a white dressing-robe, A peculiar smile flickered'across the man's trembling'with fear and timidity. tii lips. ''" This girl's name was Milrose Dorn. Her his- "I dire say you're right, though I don't un- tory is what I propose to relate. derstand a word on't," Peter responded, care- When Milrose flitted from under Peter's eyes, lessly.,i she passed through an adjoining clamber andi "I'he devil may trust him !" murmured Low- down-a private staircase to her own room. She 'enthal, and then looked at Peter five minutes closed and locked her door, and listened at the without speaking. keyhole. Presently she heard Lowenthal de- " Fix tis door first," he said, by-and-by; send. He stopped,,in passing, and sotly turn- " adjust tosit a stout bolt to push into a socket ed the knob of her door. Finding it locked, lie on the outside ; and see that you do it thor- went on, and she soon heard his footsteps be- ourghlv. An attempt to trioc: me wil!not be for low. your advantage." Milrose extinguished a wax-candle that burn- II MILROSE ; OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. 13 on her, dressing-table, and being faint and heat- will be closed, and you will be alone. I would Sed, threw up a window which opened upon a not be harsh, but I aug sure you will force me balcony. The cool air wooed her, and she step- to it. I have been too easy with you, Frederick. ped out. The night was dim, though balmy. I must assert myself, or you'll forget what's due: The shadows'of some large trees were thrown me." around her sombrely. The narrow walks look- . "Forget what is due you ! I know what is ed like mystic aisles. The quietude had a calm- due you. Respect, Love, Worship--all that the ing influence on Milrose. She leaned against heart of man can yield. I adore you !" the balustrade. Her heart was beginning to His voice was full of pathos. beat naturally, and she was putting her thoughts "I tremble with terror i. If you should be together in connected form, when a voice said : heard, Frederick! . If you knew what I know I " Milroser " You should, not be here, .I ought to banish She looked up, for the named seemed to drop you. I -know how. angry' I ought to be. Rob- from the air. There was a rustling among- the bers;prowl at this time.of night,,Frederick." branches of a tree, and a young raan dropped 'Hervoiceindicated realdistress. at her feet. . " There is seeming justice in your reproach- She did not stir. Surprise kept -her motion- es,'' said Frederick, getting possession of her less. '" hand. "Indeed, remorse is mixed with the joy "Have I terrified.you ?"'he asked. .". of seeing you. I know I endanger you ; but "You have done more than that, sir ; you Love is of such a nature that:it dares every peril have offended me," she answered,.hastily. in the world. It defies and 'overcomes every "Did I come too abruptly ? I will go back difficulty. It scorns worldly wisdom.' It flies and come more leisurely. Nay, Rose ; frown into the face of impomslbility. It scorns mis-- not till you have heard me. If . I make not construction and torture. Ui faces Death. Lovu good my cause,,then you shall be angry," he is the FIRST, the LAST, and the GREATEST. It said, with an air half-penitent, half-playful. - brings me here. It casts me at your feet. It " Frederick North," returned Milrose, re- makes my homage my happiness--my humilia- proachfully, "you pi'esume too nuch on my tion, my exaltation--my shame,-my glory. My forbearance. ' Therm"are some things that a heart cries, 'Rose, Rosn i' and will never be young woman cannot forgive. One of those satisfied. Though it run over with thee, it will things is-" - never have enough." 1.. .,,, "Say it not, dearest Rose I Let not those He stood very near her; he whispered very kind lips-give me pain. I had little thought of gently ; he-felt her breath on his cheek. . seeing you," replied the young man; earnestly. r" My own Rose, white and pure! how much Milrose pointed to the tree. '-- '.' I love you, every trial and every act of my "Are you of the monkey .race, Frederick? life sha show ! I' haunt this place because you Do you live in trees? Do you sleep in trees ?" are here ; because my. hope and my world are "'No more than you are a lawyer, Rose. Fol- here ;. because my soul flies:away from me, and low me not so closely with your good wit. my body 'must go after it. Soul' did I say?; Question you can, and closely. I ask but a pa- Half a soul, I should have said, which runs to. tient hearing." thee for its whole " Speak less boldly, then, or those :will hear 'The young man expressed himself like an en- who are-far less merciful than I. Frederick"-. thusiast, as he was. she sunk her voice to a soft whisper--"you im- " Are we so poor, then, that we have but one peril not only my good name, but your life. soul between us, Frederiek ?" she. asked, half. This is 'Castle Dangerous.' No one can ap. playfully. proach it with impunity, even in the light of '"So, rich;'rather, that the two parts are unit. day. . At night the risk is greater. Lowenthal ed. This is .not poverty, it is' wealth 1" he an suspects you. Our interviews, I fear, are; not swered, quickly. known to ourselves alone. . There may be un- " I prefer two perfect souls," returned Milrose, certainty in his mind, but jealous, suspicion thoughtfully, "tha one may 'receive happiness arms even doubt with double malice. He would from the other. If I had but half a soul, 1 think kill you at -my feet!" it would move out." Milrose had permitted him to advance, but , "It would find nothing pure enough to in.- ot to take her hand.: She wished, for his own habit,"-. - ,- ood, to make him miserable before making " There, go ; for I doubt not the serious.busi- im happy. ness you came, upon is done ! You see my "If you must speak," she continued," speak weakness. You perceive how I have permitted- i whispers." ' ,myself to be cheated of my dignity by your "How can I speak-in whispers when you keep false tongue. If you really love me, go, before me so far from you? A- whisper must be^ you are discovered." breathed to one's ear,' lie gently answered. She pushed him from her with gentle force. "Trifle not; for in a moment that window 1"Something I came to say. Your life seems E page: 14-15[View Page 14-15] 14 MILROSE ; OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER, to me a mystery and a contradiction. You fear I He was about to entreat her to bestow her full Lowenthal; I will not call him your father. confidence upon him, when she placed a hand You tremble at his name. Why is this ? Come, upon his lips, and whispered with a suddenness Rose, what is 4 ?" that startled him. "If the word DANGER rang in your ears con= "Go ,instantly Sume one has raised a win. tiunally, like a bell, what would you think of dwa." it.? Imagine a bell, with an .irou tongue, that The alarm depicted upon her face was suffi- rings but one peal from morning till night, and cient to determine the movements of Frederick. that the warning note of DiANGza1" He seized the nearest limb, swung himself from Her manner was hesitating and slow. the balcony, anal immediatelyshe heard him drop "I believe in causes, Rose. There is more to the ground, and simultaneously, the report than you tell meo" returned Frederick, anxious- of a pistol. Greatly terrified, she sprang to her ly.. "It cannot be," .he went on, '"that this chamber, closed the window, and went trembling ruinous rebellionUht4 isdaily gathering strength, to her bed. She had scarcely laid her confused seriously affects you. Is he a good, a true man i" head on the pillow, when sle heard the well. The serious.way in which he spoke, indicated known rap of her maid at the door. that his doubts of Lowenthal's character were Calming:her features, she arose and admitted more than passing fancies. her. The girl was excited, and eager to speak. "I cannot answer now, but soon, soon I may "Well, Angeline ?" said Milrose, encourag- be at.liberty to speak freely. There will be a ingly. change here. Ask not what, for I can scarcely "What do you think, Miss Hilly I" cried foresee its .nature. I, hope, Frederick, we may Angeline, with open eyes and upliftedb ands. meet again." There she stopped short, most provokingly. " We .shall, Rose, we- shall! You will be # I don't know, I'm sure," said Rose, trying watched over ; you shall be protected. Heaven to speak with indifference. will raise up friends to see That every violated "Master's shot somebody that was prowling right be vindicated, and every abuse o privilege round the house I" punished. He who-is a traitor to his country, Rose sank upon her bed, quite weak and faint-. will be false to every obligation. I have heard "Don't know who 'tis nor what he wanted. that you have never been a favorite ; that since :.Like's not, Miss Mill y, 'twas a burglar, and the death of your mother he has looked upon like's not 'twas one o them dreadful Yankees.- you with ,eqld and jealous eyes. . Perhaps you 'Twas a young man, anyways, master said. stand in the way of his -ambition and pride. Goodness, Miss Milly , I'm.seared! Inone of us It is said that yop inherit your mother's for- is. safe, now'days. He might climbed right up tune.' . to your room and frightened the breath o' life Frederickstopped, as; if afraid of going too out of your body. Lord, miss, how' pale you far in a matter so.delieate. -be "- " Lowenthal,",he.added, 4' needs buta pow '.- 'i Silly creature !" cried Milrose. " Bring me ful .motive to urge him to cruelty and possibly my salts, and then sit down and be quiet. Do to, crime. .1 speak-thus .to make you watchful net shatter till I give you leave." of yourself and observant of him.' Any. other "Love o' God !" muttered Angeline, sotto voce. villainy may growdside byridqwitk treason.' Should "'Mistress hasn't got no nerves. We all might he oppress you, should he throw his strength be murdered, and she wouldn't make no fuss against your'weakness, should yqu really feel about it i Well, some folks isn't like some other that Danger which follows. you like a -warning -fo4lks; but if some folks was like other ,folks, bell, endeavor, in some manner, to communi- fobs would all-be alike!" cats with me. Theredwells.in a.cabin, not far angelind, aismart-looking quadroon, settled from here, on the,,margin of the.Barrens) one, herself in her mistress' easy-chair, with the air Peter Rust, whom I think, in emergency, you of a' person of consequence.'. might trust. With this Peter I will leave some Milrose, though full of womanly sensibility, clue to my own-whereabouts; 'for sometimes, did not belong to the fainting school of heroines, Rose, I:am not easily found. Although thls Vexations and trials but served to bring out man leads a wandering life, and is called, by her hidden strength. Although her brain reel- turns, wood-chopper snd still-hunter, he.lhas ed dizzily-under the announcement of Angeline, rare qualities of head and heart, and is true, not she did not weakly.-and unwisely yield to out- orily'to his-friends, but:to.his country." ward expressions .of grief. Lying with closed Milrose stood, with claspe4 hands, listening eyes, her white face shaded with as white a hand, to her lover. ;She was in painfpl doubt wiatto she thought rationally and sensibly of the sub- say to him., She knewnot whether to express .ject, and presently began to doubt the truth of her fears,.or to keep them shut up in her own the story. Recalling'all the noble qufalities of breast ; whether to give voice to. a terrible sus- Frederick North, she-found it impossible to be- pleion, or to remain silent. Her agitation did ive that he had met a fate so unworthy of not escape the quick eyes of Frederick North. him. MILROSE; OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. 1t CHAPTER V. squiree" returned Peter, carelessly. " You PETER speak$ HIS MIND.' wanted a specimen o' .my greasy skill, and Peter Rust worked. He 'had in'the first place you've got it. As for brains, I was born too resolved not to touch a-tool, or yield in the least fur Norrh to have 'em. Bone and muscle isn't degree to the despotic will of Lowenthal. )But of much consequence, you know. When you -as men often do-he changed his mind, as force a free man to do your villainous work, has been seen. 1Ie fixed a wooden bolt to the you must have everything according . When dook in the way he had been ordered.' A 'he , you take. to coercion, coercion it must be. had anticipated, the moment 'it wat done, that When it's a thing o' strength, bring on your very door was closed and that' identical bolt strength. When it's a question o' cunnin', trot drawh upon him. This did tint dia point han up your cunnin'. When, it's a matter o' justice in the least; for it relieved him of' the sight of and right atween man and -man, make manifest Babel, who now kept his vigil' outside. Peter your justice ,and right, and stan' to it. Make rejoiced, in fact. - A smile that had'cunning in things equal, I say. But never rely on him as it appeared on his face. works on compulsion. Here 'I be, fortified in -By this time it was broad d'ay: The. sunlight your den. Get me out, if von can." quivered in at the windows, very golden and " I can order. the wall eut down with axes," cheerful, saying Good morning I" to Peter said Lowenthal, hoarse with anger. Rust, who, looking out, saw soldiers drilling in "'Ay I You can cut away more in an hour the distance. ,than you can build-up in a day," returned Pe- "Am I a nigger, uoth Peter,' " that I ter. bhud do thangtd ngif?'ttam't constitutional, The cotton-planter refleted a little, then b e gedif''t,,!"changed his policy,' 'With these remarks, he went to work and put '"Come, be reasonable. Open the door. Per- a long bar across the door, and fastened it. . form the work, and you shall be liberally re- "There !" said Peter, wiping, his' fbrebead- warded. You may rely on something you don't theres a' bolt onf both sides now, I guess,. anticipate, when-this little job is done." Perhaps they can get in, if they want' to. ''e- " It's, that very something," thought Peter, husathey can't i " that I'm afraid of!" I haing surveyed this job a little while,' he of-;. But hE rely carefully kept the thought where field additional ba's; and made sttrong his po-: thoughts are made. sition., ' " ' ' ' ' "When honest men have honest intentions," SI'l take a little nap,' said Pter to him- he replied, "they don't drag in an honest neigh- self. "Sleep is a sharpener of the wits. If ebor to do their' dishonest work. There's a dif- eni slee ten minutes, I ' 1ereumvnt 'the whole ferende atween a nat'ral-born scoundrel and a .enat'ral-born gentleman. In my opinion, you're He stretched himself upon the floor, with a" a.d'-d cold-blooded villain !" piee'of joist for a pillow. He hpd no sooner' Peter said this with a' little more heat, a little shut his eyes than he'-heard the bolt drawn apd more energy, and a little more everything else ah attempt made to enter. Theyi there 'was a 'than nsgal. -Iis contempt 'and indignation now hock-a double' a-, d triple knock. aid then escaped like pent waters. "Colme in I" said Peter. "Come' in !" " og didn't take me at the flood-tide of my Somebody kicked the 'dot apitefully. eter gobd-nature," Lowenthal answered, in his most heard Lowenthal muttering and cursing." ' ;frigid tones. "My momentary weakness is ebb- ' bon't stan' on ceremony, 'squire.. Call 'on' l. me often. Shall be in.all day," added Peter. '1' Let it be loi water as quick as possible !" "hi till you'starve'!" cane through thebarred quoth eter. "Your flood and your ebb tide door, in tones most ominous. are-the same' to. me. Our-views are different. Then Loweithal. evde ntly directed' Babel 'to We can't think nor act alike. My notions are put his shoulder to the dopr and burst it 'opep. free where you nat'rally take to cotton and nig- 'Psh away t"'said Peter. "If it starts,' et gers. We're enemies, and there's no disguisin' me know.", ont. Had. you kept your hands off, you'd had The giant made his' great joints cracklin vsin' :noth ' to fear from Peter Rust. But after this t , muster, enraged, beat him, and seemed in- night'his name will be to you a dread and' a epreeblay annoyed by Peter's devies' septet terror.' I throw the glove at ye fairly "et me in I cried Lowenthal. "'It is folly and squarely. I give ye warnin' duly and truly. f6rSou to oppose me: M house' is my castle. I tell, ye, I pwenthal, that you've got a slow- can wall it up or barn it,'if' I will." tracker after ye. Slow-traekin' is my business, iis so ""said' Peter."The Irishman burnt' and has beenfor manyand many a year. You 'is barn to kill the weasel. " know what a still-lhunteryis, I s'pose ? A still- "I can starve you' out. Nobody is proof hunter is one .as hunts without" dogs-one as against hunger," threatened Lowenthal. . trusts in himself, and not in the instincts 'of Carry on the forward movement 'as you like, brute-beasts,- one as has confidence in his i page: 16-17 (Illustration) [View Page 16-17 (Illustration) ] MILROSE ; OR, -THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. powers-one as goes far and goes slow-one as steps lightly and makes no noise, and comes up, with the game afore it's aware-one as is not heard till he strikes, and never strikes till he slays !" Peter's voice, as he proceeded, took on , more and mor- an earnest and impressive tone. There was a kind of quiet solemnity in. his enuncia- tion. Lowentlial never felt so strangely in his life. le knew not what he had caged. "Perhaps you think.you've gQt a nigger here -a poor, oppressed, crmgin', quiverin', beggin' nigger, that'll .,cry out ' 0 - mars'r ! .inarsir l' with every blow you give him. - Ypu're mis- taken ! i'm no more a chattel than cotton is king. . Peter of the Pine Barrens is no white trashr-no Ben Dykes, or apostate Quaker-but a aman, that in the end will give ye.trouble. You got me 'up here for. som monstrous villainy. You *ant a secret prison in, your own house.' Because you command a hundred slaves, 'and " the Lord knows how 'many hundred traitors, you mean to rule without regard to the rights of others. While eallin' cotton king; you king it yourself among the deluded returns, that are-, daily swellin' this rebellion. You've got power. Very well! I know it. What am I? A pris- oner. .I know that, too. But I've got wit-a free gift of Mother Natur'-and that's all I've got to stake agin your undisputed authority. There ! Now:I allow that you know some'at about Peter Rust." Peter ceased, and waited some time for am answer. When Lowenthal spoke,. his voice was steadier and calmer than before, but far more dangerous. "It does not become my rank and station," he said, " to waste time and words on a low-born fellow. Slow-i racker and still-hunter as you are, I don't think you'll be able to slow-track pr, still-hunt your way out of my dwelling back to your beggarly barrens!". Peter Rust looked through a' small hole in the door, that he had made for that purpose, and saw the planter cock a revolver and direct its muzzle to a panel, then waited, evidently, for him to speak. Peter didn't speak, but, stepping out of range, tapped on the panel with a stick. Thinking Peter's body was where the sound was, Lowenthal let fly, a ball, which, tearing' through the door, went out at the window, op- posite.. Peter sprang upward as far as be could for, the ceiling, and came down, sprawling,.near the' door. Everything in the room rattled with the shock. ~. Lowenthal put up his pistol and listened.. It seemed to him that he had done mischief; but that didn't disturb his equanimityat all. He was used to doing mischief. He had shot runaways often, and winged a few Union men of late. He beard no sound,; and concluding that Pe. ter was very dead or very deceitfull, he went slowly down-stairs to his breakfast. CHAPTER VI. SWAMPSEY. Peter Rust, being neither hit n(r hurt.arose. It was- now 4 plain matter of deadly enmity be-- tween 1.owenthal and, himself. The inteitions. of the planter, there was, no longer room to doubt. But;Peter did xnt regret ,speaking his mind. Ie; felt ,less' lie; a hypocrite, and more like a.-man); ages:safety, and more ,etermina- tion. The, way the case ,tood, it was a question of egpapq, or something worse.. Exchange, places, in imagination,,w;ith Peter, and. the difficulties apd embarrassments will be, better apprehend- ed. The windows were a long way from the ground. One could not drop from -them, like Biruin from a treenand run away unhurt. There was a poor chance of escaping in that direction without.an outside assistant. Ire looked down- ward wishfully, and that was all he could do. He raised the skylight, then drawimgg the chest along, and placing some lumber on it, he mounted high enoug to examine the roof, which had a pitch so sharp as to render walking upon it unsafe.. There was a light iron paling just back of the gutters, but it looked as if a slide against it would eariy it away. Theview before Peter was not a cheerful one. There were the slippery tiles that no feet could standupon; tiere.was the oblique surface, with nothing for the hands to grasp ; there was the increasing velocity, when one got started ; and belowwas the fatal fall, with, seemingly, nothing but acobweb between.to prevent it. Peter Rust did. not wish to break his neck to, save his life ; but he i'esolved to trust himself on the roof :assoon.as it was dark, if no 'more feasible method presented. He would have made the trial then, had not, the whole, planta- tion peep astir. It was fortunate for him that he exposed so little of his person ; for just 'as he was witidraiving, he discovered Ben Dykes lurking suspiciously about the grounds. "The lazy ;villain !" muttered Peter. "He's got a hankerin' after my double-gun."' Peter dren .phis ,head, closed the skylight, and continued his observations from the win-. dows.with little or no satisfaction. , The 'day wore on veryslowly. ~ He called on his patience, and his, equanimity did not fail him. He.heard Babel walking to and fro .in. the passage, a d, save his, shuffling footsteps, no other sound in pthe bouse. Iuggry he was, and, thirsty; but hunger and thirst were o:"t companions whom he - had net on the plaint and in the forest. He could bear their ,omp ny very well for a day or two. He wast'notg - ing to be put down by a day's fasting. { ti w b C'U 16 page: 18-19[View Page 18-19] MILROSE; OR, TIE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER He momentarily expected Lowenthal, and he'll be in the -house directly as perplexed at his absence. -same's a dog would. Sh While peering cautiously from a window, late him hurt." n the afternoon, Peter saw a small negro boy Pter watched the boy an andering about listlessly, with his hands cross- ed no disposition to goawa d behind him. Although this little fellow down at Swampsey, and Sw seemed to have nothing to do, and to be of not Peter. The latter could t he least consequence to anybody, Peter Rust's communicating with his s ountenanee lighted up the motment he beheld ground, and there was no im.small friend on the ground "There's Swampsey," saidPeter, much pleas- of the situation of his large d. "There's that little black dog, Swampsey, Peter was at a loss for e traddlin' about, lookin' for his master, I'll war- case, the most fruitful mind ant. I'll throw a chip at him." Peter threw ing practicable, ie had ut a little block, which fell near the boy, who invention. He could gaze a ooked first at it, then upward, to see where it like an experienced owl in ame from. Immediately he began to throw makes great eyes at everythi omersets, and pitched about in a surprising flexing nature. anner. For a minute or two, it was difficult Swampsey dropped on t to tell whether he was on his head or his heels. as if Peter had shot him w hen lie had ended his performances, and Swampsey kicked up his hee stood upright again, with his hands behind him, "Never expected to be a a iscountenance was placid enough, and thee Peter; "but I be. I own je were no signs of unusual excitement about him\ ger. Couldn't help it, tho' As he stood there, with his face turned slight him nor give him away. H ly upward, he was a wonderful little object, worth savin' when I fished h quaint and grotesque beyond description. His er mud. But there's a good sooty countenance wore an expression of care- him, now. He's as full of h( less 'indifference to all things. It seemed to egg is of meat. Don't s'po look at him, as if anything and everything idee in his life. Can't say' might happen without disturbing him. very loocrative. But the Swampsey was just a yard long, in his bare I've no doubt but that tow feet. His toilet was of the simplest Southern age. When it wears out, I kind ; a tow shirt without any sleeves. Swamp- bag to put him in. 'Tisn' sey could change all his clothes in a minute. dress niggers; and as for e Peter Rust had picked him out of the mud of as death. The less theykno Alligator Swamp, on one of his long tramps, worth. Ive been keerful no and from this circumstance named him Swamp- by making' him wise. His ig sey. This incident happened two years before, a pearl o' great price. Im and sincq then the boy had not.grown an inch; know the letter N from a gor and, in fact, had given up the business of grow- Peter looked wondrous th ing. In this way, Peter had acquired a very ed to be lost in the question small but very faithful servant. "Poor Gymnastycus !" Swampsey was a natural whirligig. He was dreamily, meaning the ho born full of squirm and twist, whirl and twirl. called by this name. " Poo He could spin like a top, roll like a wheel, climb It's better to 'have a dog ti like a cat, and hang by his toes like a monkey. body. What'll he do, if' He had a- marvelous ;equipoise.Hecudfin e'avrymll stand and walk op anything that had been stood in a very large world!" on and walked on. In making this swamp- Till the afternoon wore qui foundling, fear had been left out of his compo- went down, Swampsey lay o sition. He didn't know when to be afraid. No- his heels, and cooling his body wanted Swampsey. There wasn't a plant- up at Pger. er nor a " trash " within -a hundred miles that Till tie afternoon wore would give a pod of cotton for him. But th'at sun went down, Peter sat at troubled him least of all. ' He was content to ing now and then at the dus follow Peter -Rust. - The only sentiment he head, till Swampsey and the knew was devotion to Peter. The rest of the gether, and hopelessly loath world was naught to him "He sees me," muttered Peter. "He sees ' CHAPTER' me, the little feller does ! Now, I wonder MISTRESS AND what's passin' in that head o' his'n? If he "Angeline," said Milrose,t hasn't got wit enough to know I'm in trouble, ing, awaking from a trouble R. - ! y, tryin' to find me would hate to have xiously, who show. y. So Peter stared ampsey stared up at think of no way of mall friend on the certainty that his had any clear idea friend above. xpedients. In this could suggest noth- reached the end of t the black pigmy, a cypress-tree, that ng he sees of a per- he grass, presently, ith his eyes. Then ls. laveholder," mused st one yard o' nig- ugh ; couldn't sell e didn't seem to be irm out of his moth 'cal o' somerset in op and climb as an' se he ever had an that' slaveholdin' is outgoes is small. shirt 'll last him an shall get a gunny- t much trouble to ddication, it's easy w, the more they're t tc spile Swampsey norance makes him afeard he wouldn't raffe !" )ughtful, and seem- of negro property. murmured Peter; y, whom he often r little 'Somerseter - o love ye than no- he loses his only eretur to be alone te away, till the sua n the grass, airing brains, and peering uite away, till the the window, glane- ky soles and crispy night got mixed te- n unity of color. VH'. MAID. the following morn- d 'sleep. page: 20-21[View Page 20-21] MILROSE; OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGiiTER. MILROSE; OR, THE COTT( "Well, Miss Milly," said the waiting-maid, Miss Millv. Sometimes been most refracted in yawiing. my mind" by the car'in's on. The grim faces o nry one I depend upon to help me. I go, be- "What do you think of this house?" and the black looks is 'nough to sour sweet cause I cannot stay in this house. I hope I This straightforward question caused the girl milk. Now, mistress, what you going' to do? have always been kind to you, Angie ?' to look wonderingly at her mistress. You ain't happy, and haven't been since your Rose looked steadily at the girl. She wanted "Love ef God, Miss Milly 1" she exclaimed, pretty mother married 'mars'r, though you's to read her mind and understand& what was in with less affectation than usual. "I don't know only a child then. .Jut children, like niggers, - my own mind two. executive ,minutes together. find out things." How can you doubt my retention, m Sometimes I think one thing, and sometimes "Aligeline, on this nceasion you have spoken mistress!" cried Angelne, throwing her arms another. But if I's sick and wasn't goin' to very well," answered Milrose. "Your remarks around Rose's neck. "Nobody's more scared live, and was going' to die, and the doctors had- about this house are, in tie main, correct. I no at mars'r than me. Always shake in my shoes give me up, and there wasn't no hopes of me, longer feel safe here, I must of necessity, trust 'when he speaks to inc. Laws I he thinks no and I was goin' to speak the truth for the last some one ; I will trust you." more o' niggers than he- does o' cattle I He time, I should say that this is a mighty queer Lord, Miss Milly ! Never had no doubt'bout cuts up dreadful with 'em. There's been terr- house anyways!" Angeline left her easy-ehair, truetin'.me, did ye ? Who can you'trust, if not ble works, first and, last. There's been right- approached the bed,.and thrust her two hands me? If I betray you, you needn't never put no down murders on this plantation, though tan't into two little pockets in ,her apron. When- confidence in anybody. Love you, and that's so bad-since the new overseer come. Ifyou go ever she put her hands into those pockets, it all about it ! So tell me what you want, dar- from here, I go with you. Don't care what was asign that she was on her mettle, and meant lin', and I'll go through fire and water for you." comes of it. My mind's made up, and I'll fol- to have her say. "I'm goin' to speak the The quadroon spoke with warmth and feel. ier and fuller, to the world's end. I've tried to unconfined truth jest as out and out as a white ing. So far as Rose could judge, there was no be cheerful, mistress, and to be deceitful, to person.".'.hyporis in the girl's heart. She thought of keep up your courage ; but I've knowed this long P hypocriy gin hetog t imthttobewsointoy. She turned her eyes toward the ~ceiling, dep- the. strange tales she, 1lad heard of Angeline's time that trouble was comm' to ye. I've been recstingiy, and Melrose prepared to, bear .un- parentage, and wondered i they had ever spyi' about, weeks and weeks; looking' at this common words with uncommon applications. reached her ears. She looked in vain at her and that; dodging' here and there ; s yin and " This is a house, Miss Milly ! That's dead fair face for some feature of Lowenthal's : there pryin; askin questions of one and t'othen; put- sure. Its a house, and no mistake. But is it a was no sinister bend of the brow; no guile in tin' odds and ends together; and you may put house where people feel as easy and happy and the-eyes; no craft about the mouth. it down for certa kthat this a wicked se n contentious in their minds as some .other peo- " Go to the door," said Milrose, "and see if thieman nothin'at'lliltilniggers ieruel wa hit pie ? Is it a house where folks walk about like any one is in the passage." folk hethin' n a little while'll ki mte ether folks, as if they wasn't afraid o' begin , "Lord's mercy, Miss Milly! How you do folks. If he kills miggers and losesmoney, scared at their own noises ? Is it a house where scare one with your strange ways! Your eyes wou he aling frihtougay mo ne " you hear cheerful talkin' and' hearty laughin' ? 'pear so wild-like and dreary." "iYou are talkingdRsfrightfully,Ang Does anybody even smile in en equivocal and "Angeline openedthe door and looked out. shivered Rose. detrimental fashion, like folks, who've experi- " Not -a breathin' soul" ,she said, closing it "Be shut up, first thing you'll know pr- mented in religion ? Is it a house where there s and returning, "You can speak your mind te girl, earnestly. "dThere's a eaf no looks and keys to recite eurosity ? Is it .a without preserve." ,ankee to work up you. Tried !that isn asy house where the marster wears a sunshiny face, "You use peculiar words, Angeline, "said in aplace tie way. If Lor sn asy and has a word of kindness and desolation for Milrose, smihing.n a place like this. If mars'n goes onalie's all? Who knows what's. done? Who knows "Laws, miss! Don't s'pect I'll talk like nig- begun, this houe'hl be a mriligtary follyfica- what's above or what's below ? . Who knows gers and low white folks, do ye ? Ain't a nig- ion, course o' the summer. It's full o n who comes and who goes?, Who knows the ger, anywaysv w an. ders, and animation, and bum-bells, and pw- ineanin o' this or the, meanin o' that, or who "I must leave Lowenthal," continued Mi deou nd anaiven ! And bo-dathiey're and bring- can put it all together . and make unicorn rose. pound swivelers! And to-day they're t sense of it ? Tell you what, Miss illyy, some "Goodness ! You don't mean it, Miss Milly! up some mortars, and God He knows who's to of us iscomit' to grief ; and that is what, I Better let somebody go that hasn't so. good a be pounded in 'em I" think of thai house !" right to.stay. All this here---" Angeline made "How you mix things ?" said Rose. "' Don't speak quite so loudly," said Milrosp. a wide sweep with her hand--" b'longs to you. "I don't like that business up stairs. Mars'r "Never said so much afore-in this ponteati- S'peet you own a heap o' property.' meant it should be a secret. But it's mighty ble house, and if Mara'r Lowenthal was to "Property, indeed !" answered'Rose, sighing secret, ain't it? Folks can have a good many 'tect me running' on in this way, I should be cut "I know but little about it, I confess ; much secrets when other folks are watching' 'm. A up dreadful, and p'r'aps vanish of a sudden, less than the servants, I presume Whatever wooden cage at the-top o' the house! And and nobody know where to. Tell you what, belongs to me, I know I have control of noth- somebody's to be confirmedin it! I don't a none of us feels safe here I What's mole, don't in. That man Lowenthal "-her face express. Who's to be confirnied in it ; but the person '1 durst say so to one 'nother ;. for we're watched, ed strong contempt-" never refers to that sub know soon enough, I warn ye !" and can't extinguish the spies from the rest of ject .It is seldom that I see him, and he chills "Beig a slave, Angehne; you may be pur us " and terrifies me, to begin with. In money, m nued, if you go with me," said Milrose. Slaves are not blind, after allI" said Rose, poor girl, none are poorer than your mistress." "I'm your slave, if I be. Between you -and thoughtfully.' "Lordy, Miss Milly! you're an heiress. ne, I doubt as whether Marsr Lowenthal owns No, indeed,Miss Milly! Course they ain't. Don't run on in such a respondin' way.. I a nigger in the world." They see lots and lots. But they don't tell!I" wouldn't have such a rejection of spirits for " These are strange ideas!1 replied Milnose, Then dropping. her voice : -nothin'." '' greatly surprised. " Where did you get such L"*Been dreadfully worried 'bout you, dear "I'm going away, Angeline. You are hpo aio 'ehreadt rasrossel N-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. 21 corn I' answered Angeline, laughing.' "Leave me to find out things, mistress! If-you'go, I go, slave or no slave, hunt or iio hunt, dog or no dog. When 'II on start, Miss Milly ?" "To-night I cannot go too soon, or too far. Whatever rights I. have here must be settled after this, dreadful war. The disturbed state of the country gives my stepfather most danger- ous power. When bad men have power, let the weak'beware. To-day you shall make up a bun- die of clothing,'and we'll creep away from here, befriended by the darkness. And, Angeline P"' "Yes, Miss Milly." " Find out if anybody was really shot last night ?" Milrose kept her countenance remarkably well. " Yes, Miss Milly. But s'posin' there was, 'taint no 'count.' Folks will get killed anyways." Simple-hearted Angehine ! She could not see into her mistress' heart just then. " We must git used to firm's and shootin'i. Tell you what ! They say the Yankees are com- in' down to Beaufort to settle this here trouble ; and the South Car'line planters are going' to put their heads:together, and jest wipe 'em cl'ar out I s'pect the Yankees are the widkedest, and steal- in'est,, and murderin'est folks in the world. Ain't they, Miss Milly ?" " No !" said Milrose, decidedly. "Love o' God ! I thought they was. heard tell they's goin' to steal the niggers and car' 'em off and sell 'em, and that the planters' wom- en-folks' wouldn't be safe a minute after they leave their ships." t "aBelieve little that youhear," answered Mil- rose, with a faint smile. "Women and children have nothing to -fear from Northern freemen. These idle tales are sent abroad to inflame the popular mind. Bring me some coffee, Angeline and he discreet. Remember that this is my last 'day at Lowenthal." CHAPTER VII. WANT HIM GOT OUT! With the night came clouds, and with the clouds, darkness. Both clouds and darkness seemed to favor the intentions of Milrose.. An- geline had been faithfully busy.- Such. parcels as she could comfortably carry had been made up, and been put out of sight, ih readiness for flight; and mistress and naid waited in much agitation for the hour of dejparture. The enter- prise was not without romantic coloring. .Robe had been wonderfully suggestive, and Angeline equally wonderful in execution. The latter had succeeded in obtaining, 'by much finesse, the uniform of a drummer-boy for the disguise of her mistress, and, by the same happy management, the second suit of a youth- ful trumpeter, who had been somewhat intoxi- cated, by her beauty and -two 'glasses of Bour- bon. These gaim' n'.s, neatly fo'ded, nn1 placed in page: 22-23[View Page 22-23] 22 MILROSE; .OR, THE COTT two chairs, Milrose was looking at with very wide eyes. Laws, Miss Milly! They- won't hurt yet these things won't.. Needn't be queer 'bout'em. You'll look jest as .handsome as you, can live ! Can't make ye look ugly, anyways." In spite of these friendly assurances, Milrose stared a greatdeal at the gray jackets and trowsers, and the jaunty fatigue-eaps. Could she ever get used to such comical things? "Love o' God !' exclaimed Angeline, putting her hand suddenly on Milrose's head. " What's to be done with this hair? I done forgot it." " Can't ,you arrange it somehow, Angeline ?" asked Milrose, with a startled look. "Bless ye, no, mistress ! There's more'n two eapfuls of it. And such hair ! It's finer'n silk, and blaeker'n Babel's wool. Can't fix it, no- ways -" "Cut it off," answered Milrose, with an ex eusable sigh ; for her hair was incomparably beautiful. "Can't do it, Miss Milly, anyways! IHaint got the heart to lay a scissors to them silky cerls. Tell 3 ou what, it's wicked. True's I live, 'twould be designationI" "Designation, or' desecration, I must submit Ito it. Get your scissors, and begin." Wouldn't tried to make ye a boy, if 'spected this !" muttered Angeline, most unwillingly be- gmning to clip the long and shining locks. .1 No boy ever had such hair. Coarse stuff, boy's hair is Declar' I feel like a manefactor! To think how many would go crazyfor this hair!" The dark tresses fell one after another. An- geline fetched a great sigh at every stroke of her scissors. It appeared to her that their troubles had really begun. "I heard something," said Milrose. "So did I; I heard my heart thumping' with grief, and the clip, clip of these horrid scissors!" responded Angeline,.petulantly. It wanls at the window. I wish you'd open it," said Milrose, uneasily. ." In half a minute, mistress. 'Most done," replied the girl, lingering.to complete the sac- rifice. She had severed the last curl, and was in the act of obedience, when the window was softly pushed up from the outside, and a little blae boy, in a tow shirt, appeared, standing in the open space between the sash and the floor. This little black boy was Swampsey; and he had his hands behind him. But this little black boy, with his hands behind him, made as much sensation as if he had been as large as the giant of Gath. Two pairs of bright eyes turned their fires on Swampsey. Two pretty faces paled with+ fear, and mistress and maid thought they were betrayed... " Want him got out!" said Swampsey., Not a muscle of his small body moved. Milrose and Angeline began to breathe, and look at each other. ON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. Swampsey waited a reasonable time. " Want him got out !" "Love o'-God!" cried Angeline. " Want -him got out !" repeated Swampsey. "He waits him got out !" echoed Angeline with the blankest of faces. "Wan't whom got out ?" asked Milrose. "' Mars'r Peter!" The voice seemed to come from an infant sepulchre.. It was low-pitched, and straight on It was a serious matter with Swampsey. " Mars'r Peter ?" queried Angeline, yet in th dark. " Up yon !" said Swampsey, jerking his he upward,.,, " Peter Rust !" exclaimed Milrose, rapid] connecting several fractional facts. Instantly Swampsey threw two forward sce ersets to the centre of the room, cut a caper o -hisown invention, and clapped his hands lhe him again- Milrose was amazed.' This was her first ac quaintanee with Swampsey. 1' Gracious.! what a frog it is ! Didn't kno there was such a little straddle-bug on th plantation." Swampsey winked and blinked. "Tell you what, too," continued Angeline " Shouldn't wonder if this was the little blac midget that follows Peter of the Pines." Swampsey's grave head. bobbed up and down. " Want him got out," he said, with an eye to business. " He's your master ?" asked Milrose. "Mars'r Peter!" answered Swampsey. " I, can't help your master, little fellow," said:Rose. "I wish I could, but I can't." Swampseywinked vacantly. He could rde understand her inability. He studied her face most wishfully, as dogs look at their masters t know their minds. "What's your name, you curious chicken ?' demanded Angeline. " Swampsey," replied the boy, with a double wink. " Laws ! Swampsey !" said Angeline. " Sh can't git him out, anyways." The features of Swampsey remained hope lessly vague ana unsatisfied. " Can't git herself out, you little stupid nig ger ! Shut up here, we be, as if we's fightin Fed'ralists. Go 'way !" Swampsey somersaulted back to the window- sill. It was a sign that he had an idea. "Want a rope !" he. said, when he ha crossed his hands behind him again. "Go 'long, with your-tow shirt!" Angeline didn't mean to be cross, but he mistress' business was of more importance than Peter Rust's. "Waint a rope!I" persisted wanpe. ' " Can't you get him a rop', Angel ine . ai MILROSE ; OR, THE COTTOL-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER,. 28 Milrose, recalling vividly her singularinterview look like a smart little corporal. Now for the with Peter. "I know that Peter Rust is my cap ! Put it on a bit sideways-so. A side- friend. But what can this small thing do with ways cap makes a feller look saucy, anyways. a rope ?" What a boy it is! But what the gooduess '1l She considered him again. The Lilliputian be done with them hands? What hauls them body ; the fixed seriousness of the face ; the to be stuck out of a secesh jacket ! Too small, backward carriage of the head ; the even, un- too white, and too clean. That's dead sure! varying tone of the voice ; the steadiness of his Put on your stoutest gloves, mistress, and keep demands, and the remarkable eccentricities of the little things curled up." motion that he occasionally indulged. in, ren- Angeline paused and ran her eyes down dered him an object of more than common eu- Rose till they reached her fe t. riosity. "Love o' God !" she exclaimed, in dismay. - Can't do nothin' with it," said Angie, with "Here's 'nother trouble.. 'Spect a drummer- a toss of the head. " Better let me drop him boy wouldn't have sich 'feet as them, noways. out the window, mistress ; he's a cl'ar bother. They look like puss-paws in kid slippers." And tell you what ; his eyes are sharper'n a cat's Milrose looked at her doll-like feet in silent caws. If Peter of the Pines' don't git out o' panic. that yon till this shrimp gits him out, he'll " Good in a ball-room," muttered Angeline; stay till he's done rotten !" " but out 'o place here. Them yer trowsers The maid was growing plucky, and the mis- covers all but the tips of ber toes. Cal'liite tress, though more than willing to assist Peter, I've got a pair with high heels and thick snles, knew of no present method of doing it. that'll do better'n these, 'nough sight." " If l's shut up in the top of a large construe- Angeline, who appeared to raise difficulties tion, and was repelled to stay there till this tod- merely -for the purpose of overcoming then, diepole freed me, I'd just write my 'own epi- ran to a press and brought out a pair of thick graph, and prepare for the hour of delusion." walking-shoes, into which the tell-tale feet wire "Rope !" said Swampsey, utterly"unmoved thrust, boots and all. by the opinions of Angeline. " Look in the glass, Miss Milly," said An;e- " Cannot this boy help 1us ?" asked Milrose. line.' " No !" answered the girl, tartly. " Couldn't Milrose looked, and was astonished at the help a humming-bird." transformation. The extreme delicacy of her '- Halp Mars'r Peter," drawled Swampsey, and complexion, and the marvelous beauty of her flung himself out of the window. face, were in bewildering contrast with her ' "What is become of him?" exclaimed Rose, masculine garments.. She could not readily alarmed. reconcile herself to the change. She saw a boy "Goodness, Miss Milly; he can go anywheres ! in the glass, with her own features ; but it was} a He isn't a bein' nor a nigger neither." boy that made her blush, and smile, and treta- " A banshee, perhaps ?" replied Rose, smil- ble. ing. Angeline soon cast her feminine husk, and "Laws, mistress, 'twasn't a she at all !" re- slipped into the trumpeter's suit. Her darker tortel Angeline. " And he's as likely to be no skin and stouter figure gave her a masculine kind of a sect as anyways. Some the plantation advantage over her mistress ; but she was, in hands has seen him totin'after Peter in all weath- truth, a very comely youth. No one would ers, and they just eluded 'twas Peter's devil. But have imagined, looked he ever so critically, whatever is, it's time for us to be gittin' ready. that she had African blood. The novelty of The night's dark, Miss Milly, and it looks lone- the situation was such, that they gazed at each some-like outside ; but if you've done gone made other for some moments with the utmost serious- up your mind to go, put on them there things, ness. and we'll.try it. Don't be squeamish 'bout the The house was quiet ; indeed, 'it had been trowsers ; lief wear 'em as tother things." quiet.all the day and evening. It was between Angeline closedthe window, and, for greater the hours of ten and eleven. Milrose took a security, the shutters also ; and pouncing upon small box from a drawer, and placed it carefully Milrose, dressed her in the drummer-boy's inside her drummer-jacket. Angeline dropped clothes in a twinkling. . her bundle from the balcony, and it only re- Milrose not being troubled with sickly senti- gained for theta to leave the house. Rose's meant, and possessing a liberal share of common perturbations had subsided. She grew calmer sense, assisted, rather than hindered her prac- as the time of danger grew near. She was tical maid. now very pale, but firm. " They set like gloves, I declare, Miss Milly! Angeline opened the door cautiously, The They 'couldn't be better in the legs, and' as for hall was clear. Acting as leader, she descend- the jacket, with ts bright milingtary buttons, ed a private staircase, followed closely by Mi- its gold lace on the sleeves,. and its little pearl rose. At the bottom of the stairs was a door colhar, it is perfectly requisite, and makes you that opened upon the gar len. It was locked. page: 24-25[View Page 24-25] MILROSE; OIl THE COTTON-PLANTER S DAUGHTER. MILROSE; OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. Rose hear the girl trying to open it, and be- lieved they should be obliged to. seek some other avenue of escape. They stood in total darkness. While Angeline fumbled at the lock, heavy footsteps crossed the garden, and came deliberately to the door. Milrose caught Angeline by the shoulders and drew her closely to the wall. Her mind, in an emergency of this kind, acted quicker than that of her maid. ,-1A key was fitted to the look ; the bolt was turned ; the door was opened ; the key was withdrawn- and placed on the other side of the lock ; while the person who did these things came in, closed and relocked the door, and went creaking gp-stairs, leaving the two runaways in a painful suspense. Milrose's tact alone had prevented discovery ;' for when the door swung open, they were nes- tled in a very small corner behind it. Deliber- ately the thick brogans went, up. Martin Broadbeat !' whispered Angeline. Know him by the way he walks. Come, Miss Milly !", The lumbering steps were now in the hail above ; and the girl, while she was speaking, turned the key and opened the door. They quickly passed out, and, with little chills of fear, found themselves in the dreary darkness. CHAPTER IX. MARS R PETER. When Peter Rust could no longer see Swamp- sey, he felt more lonely than ever. It was some comfort to look at the little black fite that had followed him so long and so faithfully tum- bling about on the grass. Feeling about in the tool-chest, he found a chalk-line. Slipping the looped end over his finger, he dropped the reel from the window, ii which went whirling and unwinding to the ground. He feared, as it swirled downward, that it was not long enough ; but when it was all run out, he was pleased to discover that he could fathom the distance. Taking a turn :around a nail, he let it hang there-p1iling at it occasionally, as if he were fishing for foun- ders. It was his magnetic connection - his Swampsey telegraph. Peter Rust sat there, musing, hour after hour. The absence of Lowenthal still perplexed him; but Babel he could hear, at intervals, shuffling to and fro in the passage. The large lamp hung unlighted and dark in the bracket. He had the means of lighting it ; but he preferred the unlighted prison, nor cared to make himself' a better target. He had re- solved to defer his attempt to escape till a late hour ; and it required the exercise of no little self-control to remain passive till then. Bobbing at the line, by-and-by lie thought lie had coaxed a bite ; for it had grown heavier. He began. to pull in, and the resistance grew more palpable. Up and up came the line, a: d up and up went Peter's curiosity. When, hand over hand, Peter had drawn in all -the line, the cause of the extra weight appeared in the form of a rope knotted to the reel. Seizing the end of the rope, Peter tied it to a stout joist, which he placed across the window in a trice--then paused to think. "It can't be the little chattel," he muttered. " Swampsey wouldn't never think of a rope. He's chock full o' somerset ; but there isn't no contrivance in him. - If he could git me out by stannin' on his head, or unj'intin' his legs, or by any kind of a; trick that has a good 'eal o' squirm in it, he'd do it. But a rope ! Oh no ! Couldn't git a rope out of him. I've got a friend somewhere 'round, and the bein's above only know who 'tis; for I don't. Can't think of nobody in this mis'rable, rebellious, king- eotton country that'd go a step out of his way to do me a good turn." Peter reflected; but memory refused to quick- en him. He examined the rope. It was rather small, -but .new and strong. He believed he might'safely trust his weight upon it. It would be hard clinging to it; but Peter had seasoned palms and tough fingers. He glanced out to see how far he could fol- low the white track of the cord. His eyes' traveled about fifteen feet, andwere thrown off the track by a black object that looked like a football. Over this football Peter puzzled a moment ; but when he saw it moving upward, he understood. It was Swampsey, climbing the rope ! Swampsey, pushing up through the dark- ness ! Swampsey, dancing in the air, like a cork- on a trout-line!, Swampsey, swimming like a frog and'mounting like a monkey ! Swampsey, not i the least disturbed, pausing now and then to, swing by one hand, or hang by his flexed legs, head downward. Peter was mute with wonder. He shivered somewhat, too, at the wild antics of the boy. He drew back, expecting to hear him drop up- on the ground, and was going to speak to him sharply to make him cautious, when the black head shot up above the window-sill. For an instant the pigmy elbows rested on the sill, and the serious little face was turned upon Peter. The attitude and the expression touched Peter. He stared at Swampsey. " Mars'r Peter !" There was infinite content on his still fea- tures. Peter caught him by the arms and drew him in, and set him on his feet with surprising. quickness. Swampsey straightened up his yard of length, clapped his hands behind him, and said: "Mars'r Peter !" The two words were very simple, but they spoke the one sentiment of the boy's life-love for Peter. The white six feet two, looked down benignly at the three feet nothing in.the tow shirt. "Poor-Swampsey ! queer little nigger !" Peter's voice was kind, and there was a note of pity in it. "I was afeard you'd break your neck." Swampsey joggled his head, to see if his neck was right. t-. , "'Taii't broke, I guess; but you might broke it," continued Peter. " But who put ye to coming' up? Who got the rope and tied it on ?" " Tole lies. Stole rope. Help Mars-r Peter," answered Swampsey, in his straight-on style. " What, alone ? Well, leavin' out the lyin' and stealin', which comes nat'ral to niggers, that's extr'ordiner ! There's more in that tow- shirt than-there looks to be. It'll hold, Is'pose --won't it ?" Peter took hold of the rope, and Swampsey nodded violently. " Then slide down,,little nig, and I'll be after ye in no time.. Go keerful, and don't stop to Cut shines." Swam psey sprang to the window-sill, and was out of sight in a moment. Peter followed him more leisurely, and, after some dangerous swinging, reached the ground safely, but with wounded and smarting fingers. He paused an instant to breathe, glanced at the house with a quiet smile, and stalked silently away, with Swampsey running at his heels. CHAPTER X. FLIGHT. Hurrying across the cultivated ground, shun- ning the negro quarters, choosing thb shaded walks, and stepping softly, mistress and maid left Lowenthal behind. The plans of the fugi- tives were not very definite. They hoped to find temporary shelter in the lut of a poor' white, and on the following day put' in practice those somewhat crude schemes which they had talked over. Angeline resorted to a singular expedient to entertain Milrose on the way ; she related vari- ous startling things that had happenedin the ine woods, and on the borders of the planta- tions. These tales did not increase the young lady's courage. Her imagination became so excited that she momentarily expected to have a frightful adventure. She often detected her- self looking to the right and left-for some un- welcome object, and involuntarily holding her breath to listen for footsteps. She was finally obliged to rebuke the untimely volubility of Angeline. a Although the darkness covered her flight, Milrose's situation was so new that its gloom constantly made her shiver. She had trodden those winding paths in sunshine only, whd'n there was no occasion for fear,; but that night reversed everything, and turned another leaf in her life. They reached a cabin standing among some trees. -They might easily have passed without seeing it, had not the- footpath led directly to the door. " What is this ?" asked Milrose. " Peter Rust lives here, Miss Milly. We can go in and rest a minute or two, if you like. You breathe kinder hard, that's cl'ar." " Poor Peter !" saiI Rose. " Laws, Mistress, lie's a Yankee I Ain't no 'count, nohow l" answered Angeline, slighting- ly. "Got no plantation. Own's no niggers, he don't. Isn't much s'perior to Ben Dykes, and them." Angeline resolutely pushed open the door, and Milrose reluctantly followed her in. With- in, nothing was appreciable but darkness. Rose paused, afraid to step. Angeline, less timid, went feeling and stumbling about. " Here's a stool, honey ; sit down, and don't be flurried. Won't nothin' hurt ye. Jest- as safe as Mars'r Dan'l was amongg the lions." "I cannot think ~ of stopping in this dark place. We may not be alone," answered Milrose. "hLaws! nobody here.. Nobody'd be likely to be here. 'cept that little toddlepole. Could wring his neck quieker'n you could 'blow-out a candles'" " I was told that I could trust this Peter Rust," said Milrose, reflectively. "You can't trust a man that's shut up in a construction. Stands to reason ! 'Nother-thing, he ain't no company-for a forn lady that owns, a heap o''niggers. Ought to practice a deal o' circumflection 'bout your s'eiety,' said the girl, oracularly. My position is certainly enviable !" laughed Milrose. " What do yon suppose I am worth, girl ?" " Eight or ten million, I'spect. Laws I I don' know. May be more'n that," replied An- geline, promptly. "You have strange notions of figures," said Milrose, amused in-spite of herself. I am, real- ly, but a poor runaway. I have so little money in my purse, tha' I shall be obliged to pawn my jewelry ; a necessity that I shall yield to as soon as I can find a money-changer." "Bless ye ! 'spect I knows one that ar' kind o' folks. Mars'r goes to him to get money. I done found that out myself. Sells money. Queer !" Angeline stopped to think about selling mo- ney. " He lives.a long tretch from the plantation, though," she added. " Curis name, too. Mark- thaler, 'tis. Mars'r Lowenthal's been to him more'n once. Mighty cross when he- goes to Markthaler's, and mighty set up when he comes home." " To-morrow, Angeline, you must take me to the town where this usurer liver. I am surpris- ed that you know-so much about my mother's ?' )) :) ,1 ,t X ;t # it f{{ 113 1 6F i {jF page: 26-27[View Page 26-27] t j1 1 I 's 'i ( t _ E : ( f jFl ,' / ,1 + 1 i?! 1 ; ( (I I R I' ,! I I ii - i 26 MILROSE; OR, THE COTT( husband. You, must have been very observing{ or very meddlesome. If all waiting-maids were like you, masters and mistresses would have few secrets." " Can't help it ! Eyes and ears wasn't made for nothin'.. Mine wasn't, leastways." " Come, Angeline ! I don't like this dark. p lace. Lead me, if you can, to the poor white family you spoke of." Milrose groped her way out. Then the fugi- tive pair joined hands and walked on. Fairly in the forest, new fears assailed them. The barrens abounded with wild animals, which might lurk in their path. Then there were oth- er creatures, of the Ben Dvkes order, to be no less dreaded. As they passed under the lofty arches of the pines, these dangers, to their dis- turbed minds, drew nearer. Keeping closely together, they hastened forward in silence. An- geline's garrulity was tamed ; and Milrose half regretted that she had not remained at Peter's cabintill the day began to dawn. But that was too near the prison she was flying from,.and that truth gave strength to her feet and. firmness to her will. Lowenthal was a greater terror than beasts of prey or, the starless gloom of night. She urged on her companion, whose fears equaled her own, but whose mind had less force, and whose actions had a feebler impelling motive. They heard dull and distant sounds in the forest. Angeline wished to turn back ; Rose, more practical, stopped to listen. " I declar' for't, Miss Milly, my courage is done gone ! If them ain't catamounts a comm', it'll be the mercy o' God !" said Angeline. " You've not a particle of reason," answered Milrose. " A wild beast wouldn't come upon us with such a clatter as that. It would creep without noise, or lie in wait and spring on us before we had warning of danger." " Tell you what ! that's worse than 'tother way. Creep, creep, ereep ! Crawl, crawl, crawl! Seems as if I could hear one this min- ute, coming' without a bit o' noise." " Your sense and courage have gone togeth- er, Angeline," Rose replied. "Do be quiet. That which makes no noi-i cannot be heard. The sounds that you can really hear are made by horses, and not by dangerous beasts. Do you not hear the iron thud ;.I their feet?" "I do b'lieve 'tis. Laws, yes! And there's folks ridin' 'em. Knew 'tw!" i't nothin'.. You git seared dreadful easy, Mis-. Milly." Angeline was now very bra+'s. " Tole ye there's folks on Wu," she went on. " Can ;hear 'em talk. Been ire in the day- time, time and time ag'in, and never was the leastest natom seared. Don't br'ue ye for be- in' flustered, though. It looked eone pokerish for a spell." , The voices of persons could now be plainly heard, and Lo4enthal's among them. MILROSE ; OR' THE' COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. ON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. "Tell you what ! there's marer's voice," add- ed the voluble maid. "Shouldn't wonder if he's pursuitin' of us." " if he was pursuing us, he would be quite likely to come. from' the opposite direction," Milrose sharply replied., " So he would, come to think!d Shouldn't, meet him if he's follerin' after us. You've got, a head-piece, anyways." " Let's get out of the path," said Rose. " He is near, and my heart beat's fast, in spite of me." Milrose and the girl glided from the path and sat down among the pines. The former, al- though there was not much danger of discovery, exaggerated what there was, and awaited the passing of Lowenthal with anxiety. le ap- proached, talking fiercely of the war. He, and those with him, were excited with liquor. Like all persons more or less intoxicated, they were pot-valiant. They defied their Northern foes ; and said they would make every battle-field a Bull Run. There would be a large -crop of Bull Runners. The new army on the Potomac was but a Manassas egg, that would soon yield a nestful of Bull Run chickens. Thus they made merry. Then they spoke, of a rumored invasion of Port Royal, and hoped the Yankees would soon appear, so that they might give them a taste of Southern steel. The would make the invaders bow to King Cotton eore they were half ,done with them. Had they not traveled slowly and'talked loud' ly, as vaunters are wont, Milrose could not hairO heard so much. Their words were audible both before and after they had passed, and the last- distinct sentences she heard were bitter fulmina- tions against spies and informers, whom they intended to deal with most summarily. Milrose made no effort to see Lowenthal ani his companions. Sitting silently under the branches, shrinking and fearful, she was content to be passed unnoted. But Angeline, having more curiosity, stretched up her neck, and availed herself of every opening in the foliage' to look after them. Had not the clouds lifted a little, she would have seen absolutely nothing. But a. spectral spray of light, falling through an embrasure above, came opportunely to-her aid. She protested, after hoofs and voices went out'of hearing, that she had seen the parties go by, and that on\ one of the horses sat a young man with his hands tied behind him.'- This per- son, she declared, rode with his head down, and had a dispirited look generally. "Your eyes," said lIilrose, "must have bees sharper than they, were a while since." "Laws, Miss Mill ! Don't s'pose I'd pere. ventricate, do ye ? Got one good look at 'em, and that's the truth. A little ribbon o' light come down through a hole in the clouds, and that's the way I got a peep at 'em. Tell yot 27 'what.! They hada prisoner, and:his arms was opinionated ahind him.''} "Describe him,"-said Milrose,.cincredulously. "And, to save timed 'let' us walk on." " Can't 'scribe him much.' Only got a glim- mer Hof him, you know. Couldn't see his physi- ology very well. Was, dressed- in blacks citi- zen's clothes, he was. H'e had black hair and a black cap, and I shouldn't wonder .but he was handsome. He wasa, pavilion, anyways." " Goodness ! E civilian, Angeline." "Laws! -means the same: thing. He wa in trouble, leastways. He 'got daohis horse like an anthomaston, and a more injected repression I never see. Tell ybu what, 'twas some Union, ambolition traitor that they've got hold of!"- Although Milrose. was not',inclined.-to 'give full credit to the girl's eyesight,-she was much troubled by her description of ' the 'prisoner, whom she could not help connecting, in some unaccountable manner,:with Frederick North. If that young man had fallen 'into -such bad hands, the worst might be -anticipated. - She tied to believe that 'he had not only' es- caped the pistol of 'Lawenthal, but, all subse- quent perils. Thinking these thoughts,.turning over a hundred' things in her mind, making and unmaking predicaments, starting at , every sound, walking, now hurriedly,- now slowly looking not backward, with her eyes fixed -64 the black and thread-like vista through which. the pathway ran, she did het.best for escape and liberty.. CHAPTER XI. IN THE FOREST. For some time they.could feel the path with their feet. A hard indentation, distinctly ap- preciable, assured them that they were follow- ing. a beaten track.' Imperceptibly' this little foot-groove grew shallower and less apparent, .and by-and-by it was lost ; but the trees stood so far apart, and the, way was so unobstructed, that the fugitives did not immediately perceive .that they were walking where there was no path. The pine patriarchs loomed up grandly around them. .Soft, balsamic odors impregna- ted the quiet air. Milrose paused. The forest was a cathedral. The pine odor was the incense, swung silently' to and fro before the altar, by the hand of Na- ture. Milrose was awed, yet tranquilized. The vail of darkness drawn 'over the woods had ,moresignificance and 'less terror. This tem- porary calmness.made her bear with more for- titude the discovery which she now- made that they had lost the friendly guide: that, had led ,hem on with bopefuhless and tolerable courage. 11Where is the path ?" Milrose asked. "'The Lord, he only knows, mistress! It's done gone. Never was so turned round." An.' geline felt and looked vainly for the path. "Think you can find the hut yod spoke oxd$" asked Rose, nervously. ' "Might-as well hunt fdr a pigeon's egg !" an- swered the:girl. ",Fact is, I'm el'ar run. out. Don' know which way to go. S'pect we're lost, and shall have to stay in, the woods all night, anyways. Thought l'se derd sure of the way. If the wild critters don't eat us, and we don't starve to death, and notlyin' happens to us, we ahall-do well 'nough." Angeline tried to speak with all the courage the situation required, and as it appeared, with far more than she possessed ;' for Milrose could hear her teeth chattering., "So.you advise us to give up ?";said Milrose, who had long since arrived at 'the conclusion that she must trustingn herself and not in..Ange- line. "Don' know what's.the good tryin'. Better set down and save ours strength, than to :he walkin' 'bout. ''Sides, Miss hilly, my courage is, jest snoozin' out, o' my fingers-ends. But don't. be in a state o' perpetration, my dour mistress.. We can't be more'n killed, anywai;s. All gotito bekilled; sometime. Fed'rals '11 ill us, 'if- mars'r; don't. Won't be nothin' liut killin' and ravagin' for the next few months." With this cheerful view of .things, Angelipe dropped upon the ground in Utter .desolation. Perplexed assshe was, Milrose could not lint smile at the ludicrous hopelessness of her at. tendant. "'Peers like I canhear 'em ereepin' 1" she et n-. tinued, her mind running on every species of dangers. " Get up, and come along I" said Milrose, sharply. " Can't, Miss Milly !.My limbs are jest 'tcn- alyzed with fright; and that's thu truth." Milrose was now obliged to exert her author. ity. Perceiving :that, her mistress was in: earnest, Angeline arose and followed her,, wondering that she' should be so brave. Trusting to her judgment, Mdose struck off through the more open partof the forest.with a strong resolution not to give up: She had ob- served that the ground gradually ascended as they receded from the plantation, and fell off whenever they' approached it, and this peculi- arity of 'the land:guided her. -er reason and ,sagacity proved more reliable than her maid ; for after-walking about half an hour, they-were cheered by-the- discovery of a hut.: Cheered? Under. better circumstances, the word could not have beenused. It was, in fact, a- most miserable hut; a smoke-blackened, forlorn, and thriftless hut, with all the mute yet eloquent witnesses of sloth around it. Milrcse's first emotions of joy subsided as she silently stood and contemplated this wretched abode. The clouds had drifted away from overhead, and the blurred light thrown on the page: 28-29[View Page 28-29] r F f I + fj f f i i Ir ' ;1 i) i ' ,; i t a , i i { :I; X18 MILROSE ; OR, THE COTT4 crazy roof-boards revealed gaping crevices for wind and weather, and a tottering stick chim- ney at one end, Puffs of pitchpine smoke' re- volved .lazily froir the top of this chimney. The attention of', Milrose was - unpleasantly drawn from these 'matters by a great outcry of dogs. There was- a dire uproar inside ; - a scratching, whining, barking, howling, and yelp- ing. Little dogs, and large dogs, hounds, curs,- and terriers, small voices and big: voices,- and anon a human voice, united in one grand-over- ture.' "uLove o' God " cried Angeline. '4,You've taken me to Ben Dykes't1" " Ben Dykes I" repeated Milrose, in conster- nation. " Ben Dykes, the dog-trainer; Ben Dykes, the nigger-hunter ; Ben Dykes, the poor, good- for-nothin' white ;trash !" muttered Angeline, completely at fault. "Hush)" whispered Milrose, he is opening the door. I am afraid of those clamorous dogs. It is too late to retreat. If we run, those sav- age brutes will be after us.Now,e Angeline, do try and be prudent. Remember that you are a young man and belong to the army." " Laws !" I cl'ar forgot I's a young man," said Angie. "And by the same ,token, you're a boy, Miss Milly. I. s'pect the whole thing'll leak out." ' "Be silent! - Do not speak except when spoken to, and then in the briefest, manner. Watch and imitate me;" answered Milrose, hur- riedy. " What's the matter out yer !" cried D kes. Down, pups, down ! Stop your bother. an't hear my own talk. What's up, I say ?" Ben Dykes seized 'two of the stoutest dogs by the napes of theit necks, and held them, at the same time kicking over a brace of cowardly, yet noisy young bulls. Milrose was going to reply ; but at the first trial her voicefailed her. " Who's thar ? Who's out yon? I see ye, hidin' in the dark !" shouted Ben. " Come out o' that yer, or I'll let the dogs loose. Shouldn't wonder if you's runaway niggers." "You're mistaken, friend," said Milrose, ad- vancing, and using the most masculine voice she could make. It was not, the best article in the market; it was inferior in quantity, if not in quality. There should have been more of it. " What you squeakin' about? Toddle up here, where I can see ye. Have ye got pistils' and sieh ? Don't, try no shootin' game on 'me. Jeff and Beau'! 1be onto ye, fast thing you dun- no !" vociferated Ben, warningly, pinching the dogs' necks to make them growl. " Don't be afraid, sir !" added Milrose, walk- ing cautiously among the canines." "It's our business to protect, not to hurt people." She said this with a condescension that quite sur- Vrised herself. ON-PLANTER'S 'DAUGHTER. "Sager' fellerss 1: soger i1fellers !" muttered Ben, as the two fictitious young fellows drew near:. -".They must'bekdratted hard up for so- gers, down yon.' -All I Cansay 'bout it is, that they might made ye bigger. -Reckon you crawl into the cannon to clean 'ern, and creep out through the:vent-hole to save turning' round." "Fine dogs, stitanger; fine dogs I" said Mil- rose, with a careless sweep of the hand. "They're sweet !dogs, anyways," interposed Angelinein beautiful masculine. "Wal, they be some, persimmons," them pups be. Some on 'em has been broke in. These two I've sot hold on'll take arter niggers beautiful ! 'Stonishin7, the instihets o' hounds is. But the runaways don't see it. One of the black vil- 'lains, tried to kill, this yer very pup. no longer ago than last week, jest 'cause he ketched him by the throat." -. Ben Dykes fetched a sigh from the bottom of his thorax, in view of the awful depravit of niggers. But his attention was now much occu ped with his unexpeeted visitors. "What kind o' killing' do you do, mostly, ,youngsters ?" he rather, sarcastically asked. "Should think you might make the worst kind of a panic in a poultry-yard. Got little straps on your jacket, hadn't ye, bubby ! This other cha 's got some on his'n, too. There ain't no higer officers than you be-be there? As I said afore,' all I've got to say is, they might made ye bigger:" Mr. Dykes opened his mouth and laughed a fearfully wide laugh. "Tell ye what I'- there's something they couldn't made bigger," .put in Angehine, in her very successful masculine. "Oh, you've pitched into iy Mouth, too! Everybody pitches into my mouth !" snarled Ben. "Darned if I can have my joke 'thout gettin' a fling in the mouth. Keep out, young- ster ! Tell ye to keep out !. Milrose apologized for Angeline's personali- ties, and' regretted that she had accidentally disturbed.his repose. ,l " What weapons do ye carry ?"he asked, eye- ing them curiously. "Nothingrbut pistols, at present," Rose an- swered, with well-acted ind ifference. " I. be- lieve I have seen you at Lowenthal's," she added. " Be shot if ever I see you down yer. Can't git the hang:of ye, nohow. Look here I Ain't musicioners, be ye 2" "You've just hit it," replied Milrose, with misgiving. " My friend is a trumpeter ; I beat the drum." "You beat me, too. Hanged if you don't. Drummer and trumpeter," mused Ben. " I've got a drum and a trumpet. Git ye to play 'some tunes on 'em -,the fust thing you dunno. Come, tumble inside. My shanty's plenty big enough for a brace o' musieioners." ; t (tis t / L I 1 i , i 'ii , Iti ) ;f 1I ilk ,t i ;r ;f , i, 14f Ijj i! . j yt'. i f+ I I 1 ! 1 , i !jt i . J t i l MIi SEg OR, TIE COTTON-rLANTER'S DAUGHTER. 29 "-Thank you," said Milrose, to this;polite in- I '"1You're right on the war-question, Ih'low, or vitation. you wouldn't be in the army. Cotton'sking. Dykes went in,,and all the dogs rushed after We ain't gin.'to ,have no meddlin' with our him. For a few moments the door was.seffectu- niggers,;you know. .If them yer Northern ber- ally blockaded. .arians want niggers, let 'em.,buy 'em, and .not "Come on, you what's-your-names 1".cried steal 'em.,' the dog-trainer, from. within. ".Yon ,keep heap of 'em, don't ye ?" inquire "Come, Dick !' sa-id rose, briskly, giving ed Angeline, in a tone that. greatly troubled Angeline an admonitory squeeze of the arm, Bee. It is needless to say that she felt little. that Wa , can't say I do," he replied, uneasily; smartness that she artfully threw into, ber for he had a singular dread of being quizzed. voice. Her mind was in a tempestof agitation. " Can't say I keep 'emwhat's-yer-name. But Her courage was more than once at the slipping, we ain't gem' to be brought to poverty by them pont. Here ehe wqs, unsexed, .and, infinitely. yer Yanee mudsills. We're bound to be a out of her sphere, in the, sey, an perhapsdured great republic one o' these days. Down power, of a person whose name hadlways been there, Jeff I Hold yer noise, Bruno-. Mister to her a synonym of villainy. ,Her own deli- Drummer, jest rap that yer pup nearest ye !" asey, refinement, and , beauty, were now, her Ragving stirred up a tolerable blaze, the man greatest betrayers. During her wandermgs; sat down. on, a pine-bloek, and stared at .his that night, she had tried to stain her face and, guests with a curiosity that seemed to ]ilrose bands with the juice of leaves; but ;with what more than good for her safety.. success, she did not know. . Pushing her way in, 'she met darkness and a CHAPTER XII. medley of strange odors. Sheeard ,3en, pu; o .;oT MANDDICK. ting the brands together,.and presentlyethere "What did. Inderstand yer name to be, was a blaze on the stone hearth. The light small un?" asked Ben, presently, shaking him- revealed children and dogs, and a dirt woman. self sluggishly out. of a snarl of thought that he The children were dirty, too, and mostly had faleso naked. .,- Milrose had no doubts to whom this question Milrose could not tell how xrany there were of was directed, for he was:looking At her them; but they were lying all about. Some of " Tom," she said, taking the first name she the newest ones were nestled with the. newest. could'think.of-"" Tom I" dogs. The woman, cladinunadulterate4 rags,; ." Tor I" repeated Dykes. reclined on a bench, with a teething baby in Mrs. Dyles looked up for the first time since her arms. The storm of the world had evident- their entrance, on ,hearing Milrose's voice. ly wrecked her hopes. She, now lay watr'-npog'. Something. inits eaccents'seemed to strike. her ged on a stagnant sea. Nothing was left of the, dull ear. Milrose noticedit, and felt a painful. freight she had started in life with. Whole- distrust 'ef .herpowers of masculine imitation. some pride and expectation were gone by the' Her voice was really too soft by half. Her' board. beau -' too,'could not'be put out 'of sight by She did not even 'look up whenMilroseLand leaf-etains and'a drummer's jacket. She looked. Angeline entered, but :wth her hand support' a brave youth of fourteen or fifteen--that is, ing her head, kept her eyes fixed' vacantly onr where the coloriug had been successful; ,but the moaning child., Mrs. Dykes', clothing was there were little patches.of white skin about the not worth mentioning. There was not much Qf chin and neck 'that the short collar but imper- it, ;,tp begin -with ; andwhet there ..war was feetly concealed. Angeline discovered this diet threadbare and untidy, and clung :to her; like erepaney withidismay. ,The pure alabaster lin+' her own poverty. She. was the victim.of lash lag shining .through-the dark stains was startling ness, children, and ,'pups. .1There, was' not ; enough. '. j -I5 enough left of the original Mrs.:Dykesto swear "'Keep your chin 'close,", the girl whispered.i by. ' ' "Is;dreadfulwhite in spots '" .'on't be:afeard," saidWBoe, encouragingly. It is a well-established truth, that a sense of, "tumble up, and clap down mywhere; you the ludicrous will -creep into every situation. ea" find a place. Be keerful, and.not step onto Had it not been for this, Milrose would not have th-,pups." - . beenable to ::asteclher'terrors. But the dis- Ben did not consider it worth hiswhile to cau-r tress' of Angeline; and 'the predicament itself,' tion his visitors about stepping on the children, appealed to her'senseofi the "grotesque, as wtl' The dogs were the most profittble." If .the .0to'her fears; andsbetweet these conflicting children would have brought money, he would' emotions she was kept:from self-betrayal.; have sold them. But they Were ;ot exactly:the ".TomI" reiterated ' Ben.' "A short Tom. right color for -traffie,,although.-great ;deal of Not along Tom, by n4 means. Tom is all, I miscellaneous dirt had worked through the eu- s'pose ?" tiele, and imparted an anomalous leaden hue. " Yes," 'said Milrose. , After she had said yes, page: 30-31[View Page 30-31] 1 1 S u t' f ,; ft f 1 1. if i 1 rijEi MILROSE ; OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. she perceived that it-should have been no. nBut it was too late to mend it ; and She let it alone. " Yer folks was very ekernomieal," continued Ben. "Saves time, Tom does. Tom's a long handle .'nough for a short boy." ! There never was such a thrilling in'her 'blood before. Had this white Savage of the-pine' bar- rens already penetrated her secret ? If so, was not her position perilous ? It was, unquestion- ably. From hiscivilizationshe could-hope noth- ing, because he was not civilized ;fromhis hon- or nothing, for he had none ; from' his -honesty- nothing, for he' had none' of that. She longed for the morning, Then she -thought that even the light might be dangerous. -'So there wasono end to her embarrassments; if there were, she, knew not where to find it. She 'looked to Angeline for strength; and was cheered to see that she was behaving very well, having, from habit, fewer scruples to: Contend with than herself. ' Besides, she 'was the hardi- est and best-skinned boy, and though she had proved faint-hearted in the woods, was now more at ease than her mistress. Perhaps the girl did not see the danger, or, seeing it, put 'at wrong estimate upon it. The teething baby moaned, and flung its thin arms restlessly about. Milrose, glancing pity-i ingly at the woman, met her 'mournful gaze, which, to her quick apprehension, grew to won- der while she looked. Some people's eyes seem stolen from the brute-races, and express only the craft necessa- ry to seize their piey, and provide for their dai- ly--recurring 'appetites. "Sueh eyes had Ben' Dykes;. 'Both eyes and instincts were for prey., And thus Rose interpreted them. " Does Peter Rust live farfrom here'?" she in., quired. "Peter ,of the pines V" said Ben,-,fishing a' fractured pipe from-the stick-chimney, and rap- ping the bowl on his thumb-nail. "Go up' you, and, ask Lowenthal' about, him.' Them as can't. say' 'Cotton is king' 'is no company'for me."" - '" Tell ye what i" said Angelite, 'resolutely, "it doesn't make the leasteat differenceto them- that hasn't got no-cotton, nor no-niggers. You, can't lose aheap, war or no-war.' ',You're- one o' them poor whites that's jes' outside all!crea tion. So what's the good talkin' ?"- j- Although secretly glad to hear'this-rebuke,it put Milrose in.a panic. Ben filled his pipe, and thrust it into aconer of- his mouth. " Dick !!" he muttered. " Dick the-truhipeter. That's youI" 'He' nodded toward Angeline: . "A trifle larger bay 'nor Tom.- Longer' anl - sarcier. Cottonand niggersiye! bothetin' about! Wall, I ha'n't got nary one; but if -'t had been 'totherwise, I inight.a had millions d'~hales o' one, and thousands o' 4'other." So : blow yer trumpet ag'in, if yer likes." Ben bur-:ed .1:1' top of his iend -iii smoke. His mouth, seen through the tobacco-fdgs, look- ed. like a rift in the chimney. "'Don't be -imipertinent to the gentlemakn," said Rose;- Wishing' to smooth "matters. "Don't be worried, comrade. Know how to take care of myself. Carry some'little fellows under my jacket that are a heap o' company." Angeline tapped herself on the breast with a wise air.. " "-We army chaps," she added, complacently; " have' to be- right smart with pistols and things. Shot 'a dozen times the other 'day at a soldier'i cap,.and you could cover.the whole of 'em with the palm of your hand. But that's nothin' to what I could do-when I's in practice. Don't want to hurt 'nobody, any ways." -Angeline yawned, and appeared ve much at ease. '- The apathetic -eyes 'of rs. Dykes wandered from Milrose"to Angeline. There was faseina- tion in the voices of the delicate youths. What associations, they awakened' in her lonely life, none may know. Ben inhaled his cheeks' 'full of smoke, and blew it out- with-a great deal of-importance.' H was .reparing to be belligerent. " ''m Ben Dykes," quoth he. "Ben Dykes, the squatte-Ben Dykes, the howlin' dervish of the pine-woods--Ben Dykes, dog-trainer, nigger- hunter, shoulder-hitter, Confederate, .and what not-?" He- stretched his' ragged legs, and his ragged arms deliberately, and wrinkled a threat- ening frown from the'bridge of his nose to the hair on his' forehead. "I'm a nat'ral suv'reign" of the 'sile," 'he resumed. " I Can sleep all, night'and fast all day, or'I can eat all-night and' sleep all day. I can eat any kind o' grub, frora a leg 'o' bacon to a b'iled owl. I can outdrink any knan in South'Car'line. I stick to cotton afld the Constitution. And I raise dogs. And I hate work. Goddlemity, how I hate work t"' S"'Mrs.' Dykes -sighed. * A sickly croak came from' the child, while' two young hounds qua- reled.o&er a' bone. . t-I can ;lay ten hours whar it's hot 'nough-to lake airthern ware. 'I dike a row as much as' I lhte work. When -'thak's'a fight, I'm tha. When a hound's to be slipped on a runaway, I'm thar. When anybody treads on my toes, Im .thar, too. Don't buzz round me, little trumpeter. - Some'at'll: happen, fust thing you dunno." S-"'You talk:right smart,'Mr.. Tykes," replied Angeline, coolly. -" You're el'ar grit, anyways. Why don't ye listi ?' '- Lord's mercy! what' i seatterin' you'd make 'mong the Yankees'i Come;' go down yon and 'jive." - When I ant advice, I'll ask for't,"said Ben somewhat iiollified. 'As for Lowenthal, I know hibi-'-right well:'; If-I'in't his right-hand man, prehaps you-can tell mewho is. What I dun- no 'bout this yerwar, 'wouldn't be worth goin' to the door to-fiind out. 'These great milit'iy .men have-to have confidential agents, to pull the wires and set the machinery agoin'. But, mind ye, I say nothing . I hate bragging' worse 'n I*do prison. Mebbe I ha'n't'helped to scare up an army. Mebbe t'otherwise ! Ask them that dunno. Ask the fust man you overtake coming' .towards ye." " Love o' God !" exclaimed Angeline. "'Pears like you're the mainstay of this here resurrec- tion. When the Yankees land at Port Royal, you must go down with your pups. But it's about time for Tom and I to be going' to camp. You see, we. was on the way to Brimlow's, and got turned round- in the darkness. Perhaps you'll jes' put us in the path ; and for your trouble, you shall have a long pull at my can- teen whenever you come to the quarters of the Palmetto Guard." "And I'll speak a good word for you to Col- onel Lovelace," said Melrose. " Thank'e, drummer !" responded Ben, grin- ning the whole width of his mouth. " P'r'aps I shall jes' mention ye to Lowenthal. Who, knows but he'1 permote ye? 'Twouldn't be queer if he E hould give ye a high sitywation !" Milrose thought of the prison at the top of the house. There was something horribly re- pulsive and sinister about sthe wide-mouthed man. "He'd take mightily to a little cock-robin like you--Lowenthal would. Do for a page. Could hold his stirrup, or toddle arter him with his sword. Great military people are fond o pooty boys. Goddlemity !" Milrose shivered. What did he mean?- "The war'l1 be a short one," he we on, with a low buckle. "We'll send out drum and trumpet, and sound a parley. What arms we've got in our army! And what legs, also !" Ben's eyes rolled leisurely and exultingly over Milrose. He- was about to proceed with his startling pleasantry, when the door of the hut creaked on its wooden sockets, and Swampsey stalked solemnly in. He had approached so softly, that even the dogs had not heard him. Some of the hounds, to vindicate their watch- fulness and training, arose, snuffed round him, and growled. But the little foundling of Alli- gator Swamp was undismayed. While Milrose's features expressed wonder, -Ben's swarthy face1 evinced decided dissatisfaction. S What you here for? Who sent ye, yer lit- tle rat ?" he demanded. Swampsey looked steadily around him, .and took in quietly the whole scene. On Milrose and Angeline his eyes finally settled. He did notdanswer Ben's questions, and that free-born lord of the barrens grew impatient. The spu- rious Ton and Disk were afraid to speak.to the black pigmy, whose fixed gaze was every mo- ient growing- embarrassing. 'Come 'long," said Swampsey, presently. Come along where?" Angeline asked. "Come 'long Swampsey. 31 " Do you know the way ?" she added. "Know the way," drawled Swampsey, wink. ing and blinking violently. "Come 'long white folks I" " He knows the way," said Milrose, eagerly "and he will do just as well for a guide as an' older person." Swampsey bobbed his head perseveringly. "Git out, you stunted mud-nigger!" roar- ed Dykes, quite disturbed. " If you ain't out o' this yer in a minute, I'll set the dogs onto ye!" Swampsey looked wishfully at Milrose, who, arismng, said : " Thank you, Dykes, for the shelter of your hut. We won't trouble you farther. The boy, I think, knows the way to camp. Don't let the dogs hurt him" , Ben jumped from his block and seemed per- plexed and dubious. That he did not wish his visitors to go, 'was evident. Milrose trembled for the result. "'Tisn't near mornin' yet," the man mutter- ed, scowling wrathfully at Swampsey. " But if ye choose to foller this yer imp in the tow shirt, why, foller ; but if ye git lost, don't blame me for't." This acquiescence came in so surly a manner, that Milrose's fears were rather increased than allayed. She perceived in him an unwilling- ness to lose sig ht of them. Swampseyflung a somerset over three dogs, and was out of the hut in a second. The girls did not linger. It was yet dark, but the dark- ness was welcome. Milrose went panting from the thick,' choking atmosphere within, -to the clear, reviving air without. Never had she ex- perienced such relief. She heard Dykes quiet- . encouta ing the negro-hounds to attack their little friend; but for some singular reason, they smelled around him without offering him harm. Giving the frisky quadrupeds no notice, Swamp- sey set his face in a particular direction, and led off. 'As lie trudged along, he seemed to Milrose like a small black speck in the path. When they were some distance from the but, Angeline asked: " W here you going , Swampsey " Gon' 'long," he replied. "Know you're goin' along ; but where you takin' us ? Don't' want to be lost in the woods ag'in," persisted Angeline. "Won't be lost," :nswered- Swampsey. "What do you think you're doin', anyway?" cried the girl, losing patience. "doin' to'Mars'r Peter," said the boy. "Who sent you ?" asked Milrose. "Mars'r Peter." "'Tell ye what !" protested Angeline. " This toddlepole can't say nothin' but ' Mars'r Petei-! Mars'r Peter!' Look here, you talkin' authom- aston!' We a'n't goin' to Mars'r Peter noways. Glad we're cl'ar o' that nasty dog-kennel, and MILI OSE ; 'OR,- THE COTTON-LANi'tfjit'S IbAll GiTR. '1',i a; i i f' ,i, i ,4{s ; i '( ,l ii+ ,{ ,; ?' ui, '}ii; ;; t ;, , .' f ; ,' j + , , . 1 t! E 1#, Ali i : ; + .; , page: 32-33 (Illustration) [View Page 32-33 (Illustration) ] 82 MILROSE ; OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. by the same token we ain't going' to .be demur- Milrose and Angeline, who regulated their ed inthe top of a construction." movementsby is, paused also. " Perhaps Peter Rust has escaped," observed "Promnably," whispered Angie, clinging to Milrose. her mistress' arm, "lie's goin' to turninto some- " Helped Mars'r .Peter," said Swampsey thin'! Heas likely as anyways to be big as a "Stole a rope; Mars'r Peter pulled up de rope mountain next. He can transmogrify hisself with a string; climbed de rope and mars'r come easy as nothin'." down." - "Hush !" said Milrose. " He seems to be lis- "Laws, Miss-Tom,! he can talk when he tening." tries. Don't 'pear like hetcould help Peter git "Laws, Miss Milly, he's only waitin'to be meta- away. - Now, what you speet he thinks 'bout mortgaged into something frightful! When lie us ?" said the girl, curiously. changes shape, I shall dump down in a swound." "That is a question I cannot answer,"replied "Angeline,. be still !" exclaimed Milrose. Rose. "I confess I do not understand this. lit- "You talk too much. If you will be a child, I tie fellow. He does not know us, surely." .must'be severe with you." Swampsey wagged .his head strangely, then "Don' know how to be severe, I speet. Never walked on his hands, with his body in :the air, give imea blow'in your life, and I love ye bet- in the shape of a bent bow. ter'n I fear e, darlin' Miss Milly !" "Lord's mercy !" exclaimed Angeline. "I'm .' o y6u hear ?" added Milrose, inavoiet of afraid this young nig is the Old Nick .hieslf, or real.displeasure. one o' his family. Peel'ar91: don' know 'bout, "Lord's nercy! I'll be quiet as a muffled goin' much further with sich company.... Got. a drum. 'What a solemn little fondling !'" soul to be savedI- 'speet, and don't want tolose Thlere were a few moments of silence. Swamp- it !" ,sey atood like a charcoal image. Forming various conjectures, but giving ut- " og-nan after us," be said. " Must run." terance to none of them, Mi rose followed the "I hear' tracks !" protested Angeline, trem- wonderful Swampsey. ling, kid clutching Milrose's arm, who gave her an admonitory 'shake, and listened. "'I can hear nothing whatever," she aid. oCHrAPTER XIIU. "Are you, sure, Swampsey ?" THE TAURN OF THE ROAD."Come .all , the time,' answered the, boy. "Tell ye what !" said Angeline. "Always 'Picard him walk, walk! Come 'long !" believed in things. yster'ous. There's some. 'T'elad'darted-forward, and the young women liaton't believe in the devil. Spect.it's mighty flitted afLer hiinas fast as they could. Angeline wicked not to believe in the devil.' Hoaw's folksmna d to embarrass Milrose by her' uneon- to gii religion, 'if there ain't no deyil? Laws, trollable qowardiee, which continually prompted couldn't git along 'thout him, noways ! .The her to get in the way, and make blunders. preacher-men 'd be el'ar .good' for nothin' if They proceeded rapidly, and began to think they, wasn'tt for O e business Old ik .gives 'ein. were clear of the danger. Bible says he takes all sorts ,o' shapes, and, to The path made a short bend to the right. dpeeive folke, sometimes deforms himself to an Swampsey halted suddenly. Milrose saw a figure angel of delight. Now, if he he can do that, he just beyond him. It' was too familiar not to qain; do 'tother things. If he can look like an know it; and her fears named it Ben Dykes be., angelby the same token, he can look.like-a little fore the features crept out of the darkness. m r,", e ' The dog-trainer had taken a shorter way, and a,'roe id not answer; and Angelinegave struck in ahead of them. There he was, with her tongue full 'liberty. his two favorite hounds. "See what-shines them' be for a mortal-beim'! " 'rears like we wasn't to part company so Do ye spect real niggers, With sonlsto be sated, easy," he said.. "Here I am afore ye." Thew wal on their hpads, and pitehpole abouit'in that to Swampsey: "You can 'eut dirt, little nig. way 2 Goes -as well one way as another, Go anywhar; to the devil, or the Dismal Swamp." fiaiit'tell which end'ssp hIalf the time. He's a ---- reg'lar swivel l Good Christians, Miss , lly, 8wampsey threw himself heels over head into stieckbothe yearth anal the flat o' thefeet; the bushes. bui'this WIIIo'-the-Whisk stielis neither to one "Jes' ns I tole ye !" cried Angeline, swinging thing nor ',other, but jes' .shedaddles atween her hands. " He's led us astray, and now he "em." disappears like a jack-o'-lamson. The head o' The subject of these unicharitable reflections the family has come now. Say your prayers, tumbled on the tenor of hisway, totally unmqv- darling , for we shall be card off, and never brung ed thereby, until he -reached a part of thUs forest back !" that was darker and gloomier. He stopped "Come, my short Tom ! Come, my dandy ceased his antics, and stood sedately on his nimn- Dick ! I'm yer guide now. I'll take ve over ble feet, looking back ward. yon in the twinklin' of a star," continued"Dykes, ++ 1! ,i ,l . # . ' !{-' Ii . ; u , i, { ; ' .,, i a ' , ,f , , d ' , ,F;,, , !; i , i{s f ! c ., r l. , ; '' .; w . ,, %; ii rt ,. { [ , f 'i P 0H cc '5 t9 ffi 4 4 1i j 1 i I} ifj {; ,; (;j . i, jjl ' .t 4 ? ! page: 34-35[View Page 34-35] MILROSE; OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. 3 ' S casting aside all meekness, and sinking into his natural swaggering style.- " I do not want you!" answered Milrose, curtly. " Go your way., If you interrupt us, it will be at-your peril." " What a incident it is!" retorted Ben. "It's a event for a cent'ry, this yer is! I'll be dog- goned if 'tisn't too rich for the stomach." The wide mouth grew fearfully facetious. " This way, my warriors ! This way, my ca- nary-legged musicioners ! Know every foot of the piney-woods-I do. No danger gittin' lost. Be in a beautiful shanty, fast thing yoij-dunno. Lead ye through this yer straight asan arrer the darkest night." " Choose your path, and begone !" replied Milrose, with surprising steadiness. " We stir not at your bidding." " Come along, or I shall have to fetch ye !" exclaimed Ben, advancing upon Milrose. She shrank from him, and looked hopelessly for Swam psey. The man seized her wrist, and dragged her forward. The climax of misfortune seemed to be reached. She struggled resolutely ; but his hand was harder than the pine trees, and held her remorselessly. , She thought her wrist- bones were being crushed in his greedy grasp. She knew her secret was out. She perceived that no common-motive was moving Dykes' con- duct. A powerful spell was on him, and there was a frightful zeal in every action. He appear- ed as one under the intoxication of hasheesh. Here was the parallel of the dove and the hawk. The one was fluttering, and exerting its feeble strength in unavailing resistance ; the other, fierce and pitiless, had fixed its talons, and was bearing off its prey. She entreated ; she threatened, and called for help. The barrens echoed to her voice. Angeline, in a position entirely new, her mind muddled with superstitious fears, proved utterly useless. She might, perhaps, have thrown her- self upon Ben,- had not the two hounds, Jeff and Beau, smelled around her as if their nos- trils had caught the scent of Negro blood. She had a wholesome dread of trained dogs. She had seen runaways brought back, torn and worried. - She could not forget the terror of those unfortunates. She loved her mistress, and she did make a fight with her fears. As Dykes led on his victim, she followed, at first moaning and muttering, and finally, find. ing herself actually alive and uninjured, hurling all manner of epithets at Ben, who, leaving the beaten path, pushed into the woods as fast as he could urge the unwilling feet of Milrose. CHAPTER XIV. THE MESSENGER. The moment Lowenthal left Peter Rust in such a state of uncertainty, a messenger arrived on a reeking horse, and pushing aside the guard that opposed his entrance, strode hurriedly into the I iJ~ it I mansion. Hearing quick, heayy steps in the hall, Lowenthal went to meet the uneeremos- ous visitor, in whom he recognized a Confeder- ate officer. "Colonel Lovelace ?" exclaimed Lowenthal. "This is an unexpected pleasure. What brings you?" They shook hands. "A horse, covered with foam, which requires careful grooming," replied the officer, excited- ly. "The Yankee fleet has appeared on our coast. We 'are expecting an attack at Port. Royal!" " So near !" said Lowenthal, with a start. " They have threatened us a long time ; but I doubted whether their temerity would lead them so far. They never can pass Hilton Head. We have soil enough to bury them on if they effect a landing, colonel !" " We care not thus to enrich our soil !" an- swered Lovelace, with a shrug. "I wish Lincoln would send down asn army of gentlemen. It's too bad to put us to killing cobblers, tinkers, and tailors !" said Lowenthal. " You are a great deal spattered and blown, a.lonel. I hope there's no panic down there." "Panics are for Manassas. We leave those for the ' On to Richmond' people !" Lovelace laughed. "I was just sitting down to breakfast. A cup of coffee, I am sure, will be acceptable to you. This way." Colonel Lovelace threw off his military over- coat and cap, and in a moment had his military legs under Lowenthal's table. The planter touched a bell, and a colored girl came in to serve. Lovelace looked at Lowenthal inquiringly. "Babel is away," said the latter, answering the glance, "but you need not fear to speak freely. My slaves never leave th plantation." " That black Goliah was might co enient," replied the colonel, " because he ould betray no secrets. Pity the whole race wasn't deaf and dumb ! But we couldn't make soldiers of them inthat case." "You have not come for nothing. May I ask your business, colonel ?" " Hurry up the men ! Everything and every- body must be pressed into the service as rapid- ly as possible. We must arm the slaves. Your niggers '1l fight, won't they ?" " I don't know," answered Lowenthal, reflect. ively. A "Our traditions say they'll fight for their masters. We have many pretty legends about the devotion of our chattels. I should think they'd, fight to perpetuate their bond- age !" Lowenthal looked at Lovelace very meaning- ly. "A slave chain and an overseer's whip ought to be the device on their banner." . Lovelace smiled over this pleasant conceit. page: 36-37[View Page 36-37] 386 MILROSE ; OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. " This'nigger devotion is a damned humbug !" Slow and he-y steps were heard in muttered Lowenthal. " But it's a humbug that hall. we must keep alive. It's a lie; but we must in- Lovelace smiled. flate the lie till it puffs up like a balloon. You "Yes," said Lowenthal, "it is my elephant." are going to stay here, I hope, to aid in this "A afesa o oene, ti yelpat" work. I've hustled a drove of fellows together, "I trust so, as things go," replied the planter. by one hocus-pocus and another ; but I'ni sorry Martin Broadbent appeared. His figure wa . to say that my little army is made up of eon- remarkable. In his rounded coat, his lon e founded poor trash. The worst of it is, they waistcoat, baggy trousers, broad-brimmed hat, haven't got a cursed thing to fight for! I've and thick brogans, he presented a very respect. stuffed them with cotton and Southern rights, able outside. His face was graver; too grave till I'm heartily sick of it. And by G-d, col- for cheerfulness. He did not take off his hat, one], you must make some speeches " and without a bow, or any kind of greeting, " I'm a soldier," answered Lovelace, "and stood seriously before Lowenthal. hate elitp-trap; but the spirit of revolution must Lovelace considered him with careful atten- be kept alive. The tag-rag and bob-tail, the tion. He was no much acquainted with this unwashed riff-raff, that, like the lilies, toil not, species of man. neither spin-that own not slave, nor a rod of "Martin," said the planter, "are the boys or- land, nor a pod of cotton-must be flattered, derly and well-aved p2"raeteboso- cajoled, and, if necessary, coerced. What are " Yea, verily !" replied Martin. they good for, but t9 push against Northern "I want no yea and verily! Are the niggers mu ls~lls " sulky, or not a" "Nothing, and scarcely that," answered Low- "Aeording to my observation, they are well enthal, with an emphatic gesture. content, returned Broadbent.o "YetWere I " Let me tell you, Lowenthal," added Love- ton answer thee," h addedreflectively w"in lace, leaning toward .his friend, and lowering strict truth, I might make some few exceptions. his voice, " that there is one danger that we If there have been i rmuringsam ong the se- cannot ignore or lose sight of. The niggers editiousI trust that wholesome discipline bath sulk and mutter. It's my solemn opinion, that had its perfect work."a if the Federals disembark from their gunboats, "The devil, sir! Give me less of your cir-, and achieve anything like a victory, there will eunlocution, and speak faster, man ! Have be a general stampede of the blacks. Our in- you used the whip thoroughly ?" retorted- Low- stitution will take to itself legs, and run away. enthal, impatiently. That isn't all. They'll raise the devil, when "Truly, friend Rosco , I have been a faithful once their own masters. If, by any possibility, shepherd to the black lambs." the enemy should demolish our detences at H'- "Black lambs be d-d !" cried-Lowenthal ton Head and Fort Walker, and the inhabitants "Have you cut them up, I say ?" be forced to fly inland, Sambo might not wish "Verily I have labored With the contuma. to keep them company. Think of the scenes cious, with stripes and imprisonment. Thanks that might ensue ! Possibly a new chapter of to timely severity, the incipient evil is checked horrors would be written in our history." and there is not now one among them who would These words made a deep impression on Low- hesitate to take arms at my bidding. The pious enthal. He was silent a long time, then sent+ of them pray daily for a mighty wind that shall for his overseer. While a servant was one ott sink the Yankee fleet, and bring confusion upon this errand, Lovelace, who had been looking our enemies." about uneasily, asked: " Where is Milrose ?" "If we've got to wait for the prayers of the nIll, in her own room," replied Lowenthal, ab- niggers to sink the Yankee fleet, I'm afraid the senthy.of Girl's heads, I believe, are always out war will move slowly !" laughed Lovelace. of order."' Look you, Martin!- I do not feel entirely "She's loyal, I suppose the colonel remark- acquainted with you. There is something curs- ed carelessly. edly New-Englandisli in your speech. You are "B te hanged if I know! Rather think she's watched, my man ; so have a care. However, for the Union !" so far asI can see, you have been faithful; al- Theplanter looked lyly at Lovelace, who, though, if there were less whine, drawl, and supposing a matrimonial jest was meant, was cant about you, I should be better pleased. I pleased. can tell you a few plain rules for the treatment hp If I could flatter myself that there was any of the blacks: If they are lazy, whip them ; if o Ae!" young ladyk they are smart, whip them; it they are happy, A te g lady knows not her own mind,". whip them; ifthey are low-spirited, whip them; said the planter, uneasily. " However, I will if they talk much,, whip them if they are sul- speak for you, colonel. In fact, I will use my len, whip them;; if t -y are stubborn, whi influence. Really, the match would be very ,wthemt; if they are cringing, whip them; and suitable. Here comes my overseer." i in short, always whip them." e MILROSE ; OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. "Thee loves the whip, friend Roscoe ;' and,, truly, there is a sweet music in it, as it goes humming through the air. He that spareth the rod spoileth the child. These black Saxons are our children, and we do not well if we beat them not soundly." Broadbent sighed, and turned his eyes up- ward. He had a long face just then. "This is edifying !" sneered Lovelace. "In referring to the whip; friend Roseoe, thou unwittingly touched an interesting article of my faith. I believe in scourgings oft. The whip is the great expounder of knotty questions. It is a mighty reasoner. It overcometh the flesh and the devil. It is sharper than a two-edged sword it, layeth bare the back, and divideth the skin and the muscles." Broadbent stopped, and made a longer face than before. " A false mercy," he went on, "often doeth mischief. Too much tenderness is a devilsto be cast out. The negro is subordinate unto man." " Subordinate unto man !" repeated Lovelace, with a queer look. " Being thrown upon our protection," resum- ed Martin, with growing fervor, "like his breth- ren of the field, the horse and the ox, it becomes our duty to teach him obedience. The resem- blance of the negro to man should not mislead us.' , " By no means !" observed Lovelace, highly entertained by Martin's singular views. " To subject the black to the arts of industry, and make him useful to the human race, is in- deed a benevolent object. Let the whip swing ; let it hum and whistle from morning till might; let it cut and scarify, flay and blister, mince and macerate, till the brute instincts of the man- animal be subdued, conquered, and extinguished! They are unworthy masters and mistresses who are startled at the sight of blood. I tell thee, friend Roscoe, that the whip is the schoolmaster of the negro ; it is his book, his education, his monitor, his conscience, and his savior." The voice of Martin was steady, -cold, and calm. There was no pity and mercy in it. Lowenthal stared at hium in strange perplexity. Be thought he could fathom men ; but here was one whose depths he was not sure he could sound. He did not know what to say, or how to deal with him. " This person is getting horrible !" said Love- lace, moving his- chair. "He has the cold- blooded cruelty of the North, without thIe i- pulsiveness of the South. He should whip no nigger of mine !" "The- horse and the harness,- the ox and the yoke, must be well acquainted," said Martin. " The beast that is best broken does the most work, and takes to it most kindly. The relation of man and negro is not one o' mutual agree- ment. It is the relation of Force. I know my business. I subdue the black animal, or the black animal subdues me. I see the stern al- ternative. You must trample ambition out of him. Therefore, I say flagellate, flog, cut, slash, and, if necessary, shoot, hang, and burn !" Broadbent's eyes, which had been fixed in thoughtful contemplation on the ceiling, rolled calmly down upon Lowenthal, who was studying him with all his powers of concentration. " He's just my- man," muttered the planter, "or he's not my man at all." " Impassive devil !" said Lovelace. "I give you carte blanche," said the planter, by and by. " Whip and pickle to your heart's content. If you hear any mutinous talk, shoot, and welcome. And it would be well to creep among the quarters at night to see whits going on. There are alarming whispers on the wind. Servile insurrections are feared. We don't want our throats cut by our slaves. The Yan- kee fleet is off Port Royal, the colonel informs me, and there's likely to be fighting. Allow not a hand to leave the plantation. Don't let them be loitering about, and have them in their huts at dark. ny-the-by, how is that runaway girl that Dykes brought in the day before yes- terday ? You didn't quite finish her, I suppose ?" " She is an example to all that behold her. The dogs, perhaps, took hold somewhat sharper than was needful, and in my wrath I was rather too free with the rod, considering that she was weak from fasting and weariness ; tnt she can lie on her face with tolerable case, and if fever does not set in, she will be well in a few weeks. I am not a hard man, friend Roscoe." " A very lamb !" muttered Lovelace. "One word more," added Martin. "I would have the man Benjamin, whose surname is Dykes, use more discretion in the taking of run- aways. . It is not well to have them returned bitten, and so faint from loss of blood that the whip cannot be profitably employed.. I know my business." " I think you may be trusted," answered Lowenthal, deliberately. le then arose and walked with Martin to the door. " If you prove what you seem, you have a friend in me. If you play the hypocrite, the devil may be soon- or-deceived than I. I may have work for you- confidential work. That Peter Rust has not not turned out well. He's a mule!" Broadbent nodded, as if he understood. " Nothing goes on up there as I expected," added the planter, with a lowering of the voice, and an upward motion. "If I call on you for aid, there will be a secret to keep. A short time will determine. Go, and look well to your business. "Fear not for me," responded Martin, with that puzzling equanimity and steadiness that, at times, were so baffling to the planter. "In truth, I will be prudent, discreet, circumspect, and, as I may say, wary." page: 38-39[View Page 38-39] M8 MILROSE; OR, THE COTTON PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. With no more ceremony than he made at en- dogs, not to mention the money paid to Bel tering Martin Broadbent went with heavy and Dykes, it becomes my duty, as a faithful over measured tread out of the house. seer, to give thee a severe whipping." --- There was another pause. She drew th CHAPTER XV. shawl more tightly about her person. SLA. "Drop thy shawl, Ela. If thou hast forti: The following night, it will be remembered, tude to bear'thy punishment, I will spare thee was unusually dark. The negro quarters were the shame of the whipping-post." remarkably quiet. Martin Broadbent, with an The pine-knots sent up a blood-red flame, overseer's whip under his arm, passed among Contrasted with the glare of the blaze, the fea. the huts, and entered the meanest and most sol- tures of Broadbent were ghastly white. itary of them all. An observer might have re- " Strike !" murmured Ela. " I will beat marked that his movements were quicker and it." his steps lighter than common. Pushing open "Thy skin," answered Martin, " is soft and the door, he went in softly. Over a small fire tender, and my hand is strong, I fear thou of pine-knots, a young girl sat shivering, with wilt give me trouble. I strike not senseless the most forlorn and hopeless expression. She cloth." The overseer made a show of measur, was about eighteen years of age, with a com. ing the distance with his whip. plexion whiter than Martin's, a handsome Ela reluctantly let fall her shawl. She let it sce, and a lithe and graceful figure. Her go as if modesty were going with it. eyes were large and soft ; her features re- " Whip, but do not shame me !" she cried, fined and delicate. Her hand, on which her leaning forward, and pressing her hands over head was resting, was white and tapering, with her eyes. She held her breath for the expect. no dark tracery of negro blood on the nails ed blows. She was pretty enough to make one's heart "Scourging is for the back!" muttered Martin, ache. "Do not mind. The clothes are thin !" sob- Hearing the creaking of the door, she looked bed Ela. " You can strike the harder. 'And if irp languidly. Seeing the athletic figure of you'll give me death, you will be my friend. It Martin Broadbent, with the whip under his arm, I could die, I would ?" a-prolonged shuddering seized her. With trem- The heart of the girl seemed breaking. As bling fingers she drew a tattered shawl about she crouched there upon her knees, with her her shoulders, and breathing hard and hurried- head bowed, and her person quivering, she was ly, awaited silently the pleasure' of the man a living realization of beauty in grief. whose power she had reason to dread. Martin Broadbent threw down the whip as if Martin Broadbent seemed in no hurry to be- it had been a serpent. gin his cruelties. He stood with folded arms, Feeling no blows, the"girl timidly looked up. watching the mute terror of the girl. In that Martin was contemplating her with an expres' beautiful young face he found something to fix sion so singular, that she knew not what to his attention. His chest heaved, and the girl think. plainly saw his quickened respiration. She " Girl, arise !" he said huskily. dared not lift her eyes, nor entreat, nor remon- - She obeyed mechanically. strate. She knew the mercy of overseers. " Ah ! you will be so cruel that I shall not She understood the ,crime of which she had have strength to stand." , been guilty. "Heartless monster t Why do you prolong Ala-thou art called dla, I hear," said Mar- my suspense ?" she added, seeing Martin stand- t Broadbent, presently-"thou hast run ing still and silent. away"r "What put thee upon the madness of run- A shiver, only, answered hie .ning away ?" asked Martin, abruptly. "To run away, is to defraud thy lawful mas- " What matters it? I ran away, was brought fir, who owns thy soul and bedy." back, and am to be murdered by you !" she The shawl slipped from the white shoulders, answered, instinctively crossing her arms on and Martin saw them thrill and redden. her bosom to shield it and them from the lash. "Slavery," continued Martin, somewhat . " Thy speech is not that of the common ne- hoarsely, "is said to be one of God's own in- gro," said Martin, trying to be calm. stitutions; and to run away from it is to fly in- " Negro!" exclaimed the girl, indignantly. to the face of Providence. Ahem !" Martin " Smooth-voiced hypocrite ! God knows I am stepped and coughed. The Adam's apple in not a negro. Look !" She turned upon him hiasthroat appeared to be choking him. "There- in burning anger and blushing shame. She fbre"-he coughed again-" having run away sobbed convulsively. "See this white skin ! from an irndulgent master, whose will is thy law, See these hands! See this long' black hair 1" -- and having no. right to thyself, and-and-" the Her air, her gestures, were full of dignity. Adam's apple troubled him again-" and hay- Maidenly pride and modesty outraged, found lug given him much trouble to catch thee with utterance. ' ' t { i7l ,t+i i ' , i : , i l , ,' , ; ° { t i ' i t .; F MILROSE; OR, TIlE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. "What was thy crime ?" demanded Martin, est accents should have dissipated my terrors. with pale lips. And yet,I thought you were stern." She seized The girl drew herself up proudly, and look his hand and pressed it to her hot forehead. ing at him steadily, said : "Now I am safe," she murmured, like one "Virtue!'d dreaming. "'Now my soul grofs calm. Now The tone and the manner thrilled him. He my thoughts flow upward prayerfully." She set his teeth firmly together, and curbed the paused, then added: "Am I, amInot mad?" strong feelings that seemed on the point of " n hAllis well I" overpowering him. Martin turned to the door quickly. He saw " How long hast thou been there ." afr or wasido;bt shadowstrug h crevie At Martin made a motion toward the house. firs, he'ws i o dot; bt hados a a e Three miserable weeks, shut up like a criminal, noise, and this did. He touched again the silky and kept from those whom pity might tempt to head she Ella ebut so significat soawarningly ask questions. Oh, if you were human, you that she looked up. She saw that hand she had might know why I was there, and why.I fled! so lately feared,-held toward her in silent ad- These rags are not mine; they were forced ub 'm thon it nd e er w ang . She mentally on me to humble me. I said I would not be in the attitude of prayer, and she mentally that, and he said I should be a slave." prayed. " Lowenthal ?" said Martia. MartiTh rewa pistol; roan le El it;aw fire oAy 1 It was whispered in his househola There was a fall and a groan. Ela saw the that he had a refractory slave-girl shut up in movement and a flash, and the report nearly the west wing. I suppose the infamous tale was stun he; but she dre n theboyrf. believed. I can betray no one; but I had an Martin went out and drew in the body of a opportunity to leave the house, and you know man. She dared not look. what happened.",. "Thi ill raven you " se gaspead. Ti " Did the dogs wound thee ?" asked Martin, "Nay, it saves me Be not in dread. This hurriedly. - , was a spy of Lowenthal's. Had he gone away -She held up the torn shawl; there were spots unseen,h foth thu nband streineed onge. of blood on it. While she was giving this mute A light from the pine brand streamed upon testimony, she - was seized with another parox- the man's face. He was bread. Martin's.bullet ysm of shivering and trembling, had passed through si braina wdvie " My God !" exclaimed Martin. "Is this the "It is a negro," said Ela, in an awed voice. civilization of the nineteenth century ? My " eNo," answered Martin, scrutinizing the stiff- poor, poor girl !" ening features. "It is a white man, with his " What?" murmured Ela, vacantly. " What face and hands blackened. words are these ?. Who speaks ?" He considered a moment. "Thy friend speaks." -Hast thou the courage to remain five m- " My friend ? Alas, I have none !" utes alone with this body ?" l e asked. "Thou hast. Behold him! He is before I have, replied Ela, firmly. thee." Give me thy shawl, then." Martin advanced, his usually stern face soft The young woma gave him the shawl. He and gentle in its meaning. Ela clasped her covered the face of the corpse with it. hands and gazed at him with incredulity, then, "Now I am going," he said. "Canst t-ust with a cry of joy, sank on her knees at his feet. thyselEa?a"hsasd ht aeIt er? "Thou art an angel," she cried, "1and not a " dAfter what has passed, what haveI to fear?" man ! , God has transformed thee ; if not, I am she answered Then she heard Martin walking going mad." away. WShe was alone with that which the liv- "Mad thou art not more than I am an an- ing fear. What was it? Clay. Harmless bay, gel. Be calm," responded Martin, greatly af- now, for the evil had gone out of it. Devils feted. and angels dwell in these clay houses, and when "What means this goodness ?" sobbed Ela. they have moved out, neither good nor evil re- "Will you save me from him? Have you the main. The devil of this tenement being gone, power to protect me ?" there was nothing to dread.t " Hear .me, unhappy girl! I swear to She thought these thoughts; but the wall of thee, by every object that I hold sacred, that I darkness around her, and the red rays of the will stand between thee and Lowenthal. To pine knots darting against it, and creeping over harm one hair of this head"-he touched her hair the body like serpents of fire, created unplcas- gently-" he shall first kill me. Be assured. anttimages in her brain. Thy friend I am, now and forever !" Martin Broadbent spoke in a voice low and BCHAPTER XVI. solemn. His tones dropped on Ela's ears like BABEL. notes of heavenly music. Martin Broadbent walked rapidly toward the "I should have known that voice. Its light. house, his mind much agitated by recent page: 40-41 (Illustration) [View Page 40-41 (Illustration) ] MILROSE ; OR, THE COTTON-PLANTEi'S DAUGIITER. events. The same stillness prevailed in the1 slave-quarters that was observable when he passed over the same ground a.short time be- fore. As he approached the mansion, he threw inquiring looks upward to the window where Peter Rust was in custody. There was no light. there. A light had burned there the previous night, which he had watched with interest. IHis suggestive brain shaped many.conjectures as hs drew -ear that bouse-of mystery. It was dark, lark. He stopped nesr the angle of thegable. lie heard a sound:like the 4 rattling -of cordage,, or the creaking off.a gate, and ~by fixing his, eyes steadfastly, he discerned ;a dark object, swinging to, and ,fro ,in tho ;air. Hl e stepped. backward to,screen himself-fromaight,,anasaw the vibrating body slip gradualy to the ground and hurry away. Ile knew this to be Peter Rust; and 'something, which lie Arst thought was a little black dog, hut which preyed to be. a little black boy, in a tow-shirt, followed him. "Thank Heaven I" muttered Martin. 4' A burden'is lifted from my conscience." Passing to the rear of the house, he crossed the garden and entered by a private .door. Without knowing it;,he .passed Milrose and An- geline in the dark, narrow hall. He went di- rectly to the top of the dwelling, where Babel was keeping his silent vigil. lie found him asleep. .Laying his hand on his shoulder, he said :. L "c Awake, Babel !" ' The black clutched his.blunderbuss, and leap- .edautomatically tohis feet.. -'Come, BabelI".. The giant rubbed his-eyes, "'Shake off thy stupor," resumed Martin. "I have need of thee." ,. Babel looked at him hnquir'ingly.,. ... " Thou mayst -have tongue ani ears," added the overseer. C Lowenthal rode away in haste this morningand has not yet come back," " What do you want, rny master " asked Ba- bel, recovering his lost faculties One might have expected a bareh voice froratbat aspuls-: ive face, but it was'simplydeep aind strong. It. had been locked up by ,his iron will,,but never lost. "Leave your gun.ant follow me." " To death,my master I" , . Placing his blunderbuss against the wall, he went with Martin submissively. No'nmore was said till they reached the: hut where Ela and the body were.. "MJast kept thy courage ?" "il have kept the sh;lows behind me," re- plied Ela. f' Think of yourself. Here-is a mur--I mean, here is.a death :to.be accounted, for. IT is a deserved death, I do believe ; but it may )e fearfuhy embarrassing. I tremble' for you'!" ' Beerar, Elr." W.heniver Martin said to her, " Be calm," shne seemed stronger. His firm voice infused into her being mysterious energy. "Tiabel" hsespid, pointing to the body, "be- hold my work! lie eme to betray, and I skew him." The black:uncovered he face and examined it. '« What tlijnkest, Ba el ?" , shook llig head,'and glanced at El "Fear her not. Thy tongue must. ache with silence. Shakt off its dreadful muteness for a few moments. It will do thee good." "M ster, when you bidme,,I speak." "A ngral e" exclaimed Ela. "The deaf and dumb hears and speaks,!" 'a sIna seen Babel; thep ?" asked Martin, sur- spriped. , I have seen lim often from.my window, and I have heard Lowenthal boast of his dumb dog. But do not heed , e till this ghastly witness is removed. cans t f $ et that it was for me :that this deed was done. l'ot for theeonly. The world will be bet- ter for ;it, as gardens are better for plucking up the weeds,"artin answered, 'Master," said Babel, " since I may talk, it shall-be to the point.; I think'I can take care of this. But I must wash off the black." " Do as thou wilt.,I, can trust thee," Martin replied, watching the negro's countenanee close- ly. "Peter Rust has escaped. I did not te.1 thee, but hie is free." "' hst .is good i thought he would get away, and ,it; better for my, plan." The black went for water, and returning vitlh some, washed the, burnt-vork from the dead, man's face' and hands. -lie then took up the body, and started off with it. Martin. follow- ed him. lie carried his burden toward, the hone. " Babel ! Babel ! What wo'uldsL thou do ?" wbispered Martin. "Master, you said you would trust me," an swered the black, pausing just beneath the-win- dow from which Peter Rust haa escaped. . " es; I remember," returned Martin, reflce- t-ively. " I-will not call my words." Just then his hand touched the rope that still angled; from the window. " Ah I, what is this?" he s mid. "It is the rope by which Peter descended." "Give me the end of it, master," said Babel. Martin handed him the end of the rope, and making a noose in it, Babel slipped it under the armas of the dead man. "Come, master. My work is above, now." Babelburried through the private door and the winding staircase to the-place where iebhad kept watch, Martin at his heels. He lighted a lamp that hung in the passage, and.drawing the ousteribolt of the door, threw "himself against it with sueh force that the inside fastenings gave way. What could withstand those broad shop.l des, when the will went with them? zo t11 14 40 page: 42-43[View Page 42-43] MILROSE ; OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S.DAUGHTER. Martin followed his movements with wonder and curiosty. The giant,darted to the window, seized the rope, and drew up the body. It fell into the room like a clod, as it was. Babel un- fastened the rope from the joist, coiled it up, and gave it to Martin, saying : " When you go out, master, put it out of sight." After this, he shut the window, and dragging the body, proceeded to place it a little upon one side, with one arm partly under the head, where, in his judgment, Peter Rust would have fallen, had Lowenthal's shot taken effect. When he had arranged the corpse carefully and skillfully, he directed Martin's attention to the bullet-hole in the door ; and the overseer began to com- prehend his purpose. "1Master, it is done," said Babel. - "He lays as if a ball through that door had killed him. You see, he was shot through the head, and died without a struggle. Master, have I done weil?" " Thou hast done well!"'! Leaving the prison, Babel closed the door, pushed the bolt, and resumed his blunderbuss. While Martin was going back to the hut, he heard Lowenthal returning. CHAPTER XVII. IN JUDGMENT. Lowenthal came home excited, and in on ex- ultant mood. He drank deeply, ate nothing, went to bed, slept heavily, and awoke in the morning with a headache, and in a detestable temper. Having breakfasted with Colonel Love- lace, he had a prisoner brought in for examin- tion. Though holding no regular commission from the psuedo Confederate Government, he exerted an authority that was sometimes both lawless and summary. The man who controls a few'hundred negroes and a plantation which you. cannot see across with a glass, is, in all essentials, an autocrat and a despot. The person brought in to be interrogated and adjudged, was a young man of twenty-six or seven, of good figure and firm bearing. His complexion was clear, his face exhibiting none of those marks of dissipation that characterize men of free ideas and convivial habits. Al- though pale, he had by no means a sickly or effeminate look. He had calm eyes, and a quick, vigorous intellect. He appeared in the presence of Lowenthal and Lovelace, guarded by three tall, stoop- shouldered fellows in gray clothes. Lowenthal put a glass to his eye, and looked him over superciliously. He was about to make an in- sulting remark, when a servant announced that, there was a gentleman at the door who desired to see him immediately. "1Let him wait !" said Lowenthal. The servant replied that the person would not be refused. "We will see," said the planter, frowning. "Begone !" The slave was backing tremblingly from the room, when he was unceremoniously thrust aside by the person seeking audience. He en- tered, followed by a stout negro. He was a man of middle age, with black eyebrows, gray hair, and long gray beard. He : wore green spectacles, which concealed the color and ex- pression of the eyes. Had it not been for the silvery beard, one might have said tuat there was a young face on an old head. This not-to-be-denied visitor was of slight- figure, yet strikingly compact and shapely. His motions were remarkably quick and springy for one of his age. Resolution and decision marked every look and gesture. The negro who attended him was taller than Babel, straight as a flag-staff, and in symmetry a bronze Hyperion. The African lips, the flat- tened nose, the low forehead, the crispy hair, were entirely wanting ; there being substituted for them, comely lips, a straight nose, a broad brow, and dark hair. His skiff was of a soft yellow, by no means displeasing. There was a certain air of repose in his features, that indi- cated self-reliance and power. He was plainly yet respectably dressed. He kept very near his master. Lowenthal was annoyed at this intrusion, and whatever feeling counseled forbearance, it was not good will. " Markthaler, I think your business would have kept," were his first words of greeting, spoken ungraciously. "Business !" replied the other. "That is a word I like to hear. Come ; let us attend to it at once." " I am busy. Matters of state at present occupy my attention. When the safety of the Confederacy is concerned, I have no time of my own," answered Lowenthal, leveling his glass again at the prisoner. " You will oblige me," he added, " by retiring a few moments, while I question this suspicious person." "Pardon me, sir," said Markthaler, familiar- ly. " What is your business is also mine. Our interests are somewhat the same, I think. If the South goes to the devil, I suppose you and L individually and respectively, will go with it. So I will just sit down here and look over my papers, while you look over your - man there, with his hands tied. Jacob, stand behind me." Markthaler dropped himself carelessly into the~ easiest chair in the room, and the yellow Apollo placed himself behind him. Lowenthal gnawed his lips with vexation. .Lovelace looked from one to the other in su- preme surprise. He was not accustomed to hear Lowenthal addressed so cavalierly. He whispered : "Throw him out of the window!" "Unfortunately," muttered the planter surli- I. 43 page: 44-45[View Page 44-45] 44 MILRO SE; OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. ly, lie's the only man in the world that I can't throw out of the window." " What is he ?" Leoelace asked, in the same tone. neA money-devil! A d-d blood-sucker !" answered Lo'wentha1, setting'his teeth together. "Can you not get along without blood-suck- ers ?" Lovelace inquired, still more surprised. " Your fortune is princely. You can buy all all the usurers in the- country,".he added. " It's an extroardinary crisis," answered the planter, flushing, "ud-and,-in short, I need money. Loans are sometimes wonderfuly con- venient." Lovelace scanned the planter's face for a mo- ment, and said no more.- "Pray don't heed me," said Markthaler, pull- ing some papers from his coat-pocket. " While you are sending your suspicious fellow to be shot or hanged, I shall afhuse myself very well with these columns of figures.. hope you feel quite well, my dear Lowenthal. You have those heats. and chills yet, I observe. You should take quinine. -Quinine is the stuff for these in- terinittents.'' The planter clutched the arms of his chair with his white hands, and tried to look tran- quil "I have no need of money-devils," said Love- lace, leaning toward the planter.. " I can throw him out of the window as well as not." The colonel started toward Markthaler, as if he meant to put his threat in execution. The first obstacle he met, were the eyes 'of Jacob, which beamed on him like infernal fur- naces; the second was' the voice of Lowenthal calling him back. " Colonel Lovelace, I think ?" said the ,money- changer, nodding slightly. "Happy to meet ou, sir. You'll look out for the Yankee fleet, I'll warrant.A Lovelace returned to his seat, unaccountably put down and baffled. He was dissatisfied with Lowenthal and with himself. " Heed not the usurer, colonel. Money-lend- ers, like death, cannot be done away with. Peo- ple must die and be buried, you know, which is a great nuisance," said the planter, in a hurried under-tone. Then to the prisoner : " Young man, look at me. I want your attention." The prisoner turned upon Lowenthal eyes so clear and steady that he was confused, and be- trayed more guilt than the accused. "What is your name ?" he demanded. " Frederick North. Had it been unknown to you, you could have asked it with better grace," replied the young man " Confine your remarks to the questions," re turned the planter, haughtily. "As for know- ing people, my knowledge is usually limited to gentlemen." " Of what am I accused ?" asked North. " Of everything but loyalty to the Confeder acy," retorted Lowenthal. "There are but two classes of people among us, friends and foes." " You are accused of being a Unionist," said Lovelace. " A dreadful crime I" said a voice, that seem- ed to come from Markthaler's direction. Castingan angry glance that way, Lowenthal saw him busy with his papers. " Are you both accuser and judge ?" Freder- ick demanded. "I can produce witnesses, if necessary ; but it is my pleasure to question you in the Presence of Colonel Lovelace. These are not times to be over nice. In South Carolina we have a re- markably short way of dealing with traitors. It is. well-understood that your language, on sever- al occasions, has been treasonable ; and, in fact, that you are in correspondence with the enemy. I might have had you shot down yesterday when you resisted my men ; but I preferred to, condemn or acquit you out of your own mouth. Were you not lurking about my house, at a late hour, night before last?" "Frederick North's cheeks flushed, and he replied, after a moment of confusion:, " I decline to answer'that question." " You hear, colonel?- He refuses to answer," observed Lowenthal. "Do you, or do you not, believe in the Confederacy ?" he added. " To what Confederacy do you refer ?" asked North, " To the Confederate States of America !" re- plied the planter, pompously. "I have heard of such. a concern," said Frederick, coolly ; " but I know of no such gov- ernment on earth." " Insolent !" exclaimed Lovelace. " 'Ie ignores the government he lives under !" resumed Lowenthal, with affected astonishment. " Perhaps, young man," he went on, with in- creasing severity of manner, "you will next speak ill of the President, Vice-President, and of the Southern Congress ?" . , " He cannot rise to such a sublimity of infamy as that !" interrupted Markthaler,-with singular sang froid. " Will you mind your business, sir?" cried Lowenthal, quite thrown from his moral equi- librium. "I have never troubled the President or Vice- President," replied Frederick, quietly. "As for the other thing you mentioned-the South- ern Congress-I have never metit anywhere in my travels. All I wish is liberty and my natur- al rights. You have seized me like a felon, and dragged me here with violence and insult ; and if the time ver comes when I can meet you face to face, oh equal terms, as man should meet his fellow-man, I will reward your friendly offices as they deserve. At present you have the advantage. You are surrounded by your tools and ruffians, and it-only remains for me to - bear your injustice and brutality as I may." MILROSE; OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER.45 "Let us put an end, to this," said Lovelace, " Hang him !" suggested Lowenthal. impatiently. "Will you or wont you, fight for "Burn him !" "aid Marktlaler, like a distant the new flag echo "New flag? Show it to me !" replied North, Lowenthal gave him a savage-look. maintaining his provoking composure. Lovelace frowned. "It is for your interest, Mr. North, tb treat Neither were pleased. These unexpected in- this subject seriously;" said the colonel. It is terruptidas were singularly distasteful, articn- easy enough to see which way your'sympathies, larly to the planter.,e- point, but we choose to give every man h chance " You have certainly a ver nice government, to vindicate himself. If you can purge your- when people can be hanged without judge or self of treason, I shall not be sorry ; but if you jury !" retorted North. go on in this disrespectful and contemptuous "A few hangings would no' doubt be salu- manner, you must not complain if we award tary," said Lovelace, reflectively. " But it is you the fate of traitors.' my opinion that this person had better be kept "My condemnation is a foregone conclusion, a few days for future examination." I can say, conscientiously, however, that I have "Before you express yourself more fully, taken no part in this rebellion. I fear no man ; colonel," observed Lowenthsit, hastily, "we will and I do not mind telling you, plainly, that I 'hear what one of these men has to say concern- consider this insurrectionary movement a stu- ing our prisoner." pendous wickedness, which will soon culminate Hepointed to one of the gaunt fellows that in overthrow and disgrace. If there is treason came in with North. in that remark, you are welcome to it." "step forward, Mr. Hillhouse." "Will you accept a lieutenant's commission The nan made an awkward advance. A more in the Confederate army,?" demanded Lovelace. singular figure it would be difficult to imagine. I will not !" answered Nerth, with disdain. Nature had cheated' him in the measure of his "'I would sooner take a plantation-hoe and go chest, and heaped him up in the measure of his to the cotten-fields with your negroes." back. ~He' was hollow-breasted and stoop- "He's at our niggers !" srieei'ed' Lowenthal. shouldered. Generally speaking, the individual Then to Frederick: " I am glad you thought whom LoWenthal had for the first time in his, of it, sir, for we intend to put the madills to life addressed as Mr. Hillhouse, was thin enough raising cotton after we have subjected the North. for kindlings. He had bilious eyes, bilious face Go on, sir ; you'll soon hang yourself." scraggy beard and stiff hair, neither of which "Colonel Lovelace," said the young man, were of any particular color. His teeth were with earnestness, "if I loved your cause, if it snags, and his snagswere very black. ils voice was a high and worthy one, if it deserved the was a contralto. His ideas" of time and place support and commendation of mankind, I would were exceedingly vague, and in giving his evi-' fight f -r it." deuce he continually lost the unities. " We are struggling for liberty," stammered: Hillhouse was a specimen sill of Southern life. Lovelace, quite embarrassed by North's bold Lowehthal's object i. bringing him forward, and outspoken sentiments, was to plant a burnaig jealousy in the heart of "It is not true, sir! You are arrayed in Lovelace that should operate fatally' against arms against human freedom. You are making Frederick North ; and' the- testimony of Hill- these fair plantations the grave of Liberty. house, which was well calculated to excite un- Shame on the men who lead armies in, obedience easiness in the heart of a lover, will be found in to the despotic wills of a few lordly cotton- the following chapter. planters! .What do these cotton-planters com- plain of ? Grown insolent and imperious by'- swinging the slave-whip over half-nued negroes, CHAPTER XVIII. they wish to degrade free labor to the level of - LOVE AAlN D T R E A S o N. chattel labor. That ambition is vain. Hunt " Speak tip boldly, sir," said the planter, en- and kill Union men as rigorously as you will, couragingly. " Don't let the prisoner embar-' the Union sentimentcan never be extinguished. rass you." Then, to Frederick: "Young nma I ve admy say. Go on with your miser- you will lose that-sneer, presently." erable mummery as fast as you please." ."Wal, ye see," began the witness, draggin "You were born at the North?" his hair despeikately with his hooked fingers, "I "Than hGod, yes!" answeod Frederick. hadn't been thar long, and war not lookin' for' " My heart has not been corrupted' by your nothing , and war not spectin' nothin', and war cherished institutions. The enchantress has not not-" yet captivated me." - . " Had not been where long ?" asked Lovelace. "This is a very dangerous person," observed " No, I hadn't !" resumed the witness. "'And the colonel. "He might raise the devil among I war settin' under a tree. A blacker night I niggers and weak-minded' people. Yet I hard- never seed nowhars. The darkness war so thick ly know what to do with him." that you might hung your clothes on't to dry." I page: 46-47[View Page 46-47] MILROSE ; OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. " Jill you inform me where you were ?" in- The yellow Hyperion opened a'window, under terpused the colonel, emphatically, a heavy fire of frowns. e "Under a tree, as I tole ye !" said Hillhouse, "Stand behind me, Jacob," added the money- curtly. "And it were awful right down dark. (hanger. It war so dark you could see it a stickin' through It war mighty dark, it war," farther deposed the openin's in the trees, like the eends o' burnt the witness. pine logs. I'd taken a leetle white-face with "So you have informed us several times I" Ben Iy-es, which had settled in my legs some- said Lovelace, throwing himself back in his 'at ; but my mind was oncommon cl'ar. I chair, with a hopeless groan. haven't seldom felt better." " You could see the fag-eends of the night " Get to your story as soon as you can, com- stiekin' out atween the trees, like chunks o' fortably," said Lowenthal,' nervously.charcoal. I'd took some old rye, I had, and my "fAs I laid there, with my head agin the pine mind was right cl'ar. 'Here's treason, I reek- tree-with my 'magination floatin' beautiful-I on !' sez I. 'Here's love and 'lopement,' sez I, growed mighty patriotic; and sez I to myself: to myself. 'Fine times these be,' sez I, when 'What's liberty without life?' sez I. ''ain't young men drop down on the belcony, like ripe nothin',' sez I. 'Give me life, or"give me liber- apples, to talk nonsense to young gas '.M- ty,' sez I. ' If I can't have one,' sez I, ' give me rose! Milrose!' sez he." otherer' sez I." Lovelace started, and grew pale around the "Never mind what you said to yourself, sir," lips. His fears were confirmed. If this man interrupted Lovelace, making a wry face. were reliable, the truth was out. Milros9PDorn Better let him go on 1" observed North, with had a lover, that lover was a Federal, and that, a smile. " He's a representative man." Federal Was before him. His feelings were not. '"His is very important evidence !" said Mark- to be envied. thaler, looking up from under his green glasses. An insidious smile lurked on Lowenthal's lips. " If you continue to interrupt these proceed- He cast a sidelong, searching glance upon him. ingsIthal nsisruonyou. evn h om1 He had calculated where the shaft would strike, cried l and now, without pity, saw it quivering in the rI am not an easy person to et rid of," said wound. He looked from Lovelace to North- the money-changerplacidly.ge from his unconscious instrument to his victim. tWal," resumed pillhouse, " I hearn 'em He had laid his trap artfully, and both hadA talkin'." fallen into it. "Heard whom talking ?" demanded Lovelace, "Wal, if I hadn't been near, I shouldn't heern petulantly. 'em. The pine tree war right close to the bl "pHimand her !" said Hillhouse. " Them it cony. She seemed skeered, but not the leastest was I earn.",. .mite put out.' He got hold of her hand, I allow, "Him and her !" muttered Lovelace. " This and talked about his feelin's. Finally, she sort is simple nonsense, Lowenthal." o' gave in, and listened to him patient. Lowen- " They stood on the balcony," continued the thai was spoke of, and it war sort o''greed upon witness. "'What ye up thar for?' sez she, that there war some kind o' danger." right smart. 'For you,' sez he. It's danger- Frederick North tried to confuse Hillhouse by ous,' sez she. ' I don't keer,' sez he. ' You'll the steadiness of his gate ; but he might as well compromise me,' sez she. 'Not for the world,' have stared at the wall., sez he." The cotton-planter enjoyed the scene. "eStop a moment," said Lowenthal, anxious " She didn't say what the danger war; but it to save the remaining patience of the colonel. fearedd like the idee haunted her day and night. " Was one of the parties this young man ?" It r'ally seemed as if the poor gal was afeard o' "So I should edgee" responded Hillhouse. begin' shet up, and put out the world in some " It was his voice, and no mistake. And as for strange way." . her'n, there ain't another like it in all these yer Markthaler laid down his papers, and looked parts. Wal, mebbe her talk was like melted at Lowenthal as if he would read every thought music,.and mebbe not!1" that was passing within him. He then whisper- - ed to Jacob. Lovelace was now attentive, but not at ease. ' Lovelace turned in his seat,,to get a better He wished to ask who it was that had a voice view of his friend. like melted music. He'knew of but one person "«Confine yourself to the treason of the prix-' who had such a voice. He wished not, he dared oner," said the planter, coldly, trying to sup- not, to believe it was that person. He had hot press the witness with his eyes. the courage to ask the question that trembled on "Be quiet, Lowenthal ! said Lovelace, hastily. his tongue. os " Look at me, Hillhouse. Did Miss Milrose hiRaise ea window, Jacob," said Markthaler, seem really afraid of Lowenthal ?" with a disgusted look. " There is a strong odor " Wal, she did, and no mistake !" answered of whisky here !" Hillhouse, promptly and emphatically. "And MILROSE;. OR, THE COTTC she said she hadn't never had no control of her property. But that didn't seem to worry her like 'tother thing did." Hillhouse chanced to look at the planter, and was confounded to see him pale with rage., " Your witness," said North, sarcastically, " is like two-edged sword ; he cuts both ways." "You arc drunk, sir!I" cried Lowenthal, se- verely. The witness glanced wonderingly from one to another. "Proceed, sir," said Lovelace, who was in a cold perspiration. ."'Twar right down love-makin'," said the witness, desperately. " Never hearn sich, nev- er! -To look at him, you wouldn't s'pose. he could speak in such a chaffin' sort o' way. It #war like hearin' a book read, full o' fiamber- gasted words ; but they all come in mighty pat, they did. I allers thought I war some 'mong gals. But Lord love ye ! thisyer chap took the conceit out of me mighty suddent." " What said the young lady ?" faltered Love- lace. "'Wal, her talk war jest as good as his'n. 'Long towards the last on t, 'tar better 'n bet- ter. 'Twar a geniwine case, and it war all right atween 'em. While he was vowin' and promis- in', a winder war shoved up. The gal tole him to go ; ands ust thing Iknowed, down he plump- ed, right aside me. Then somebody fired a pis- tol, and this here chap run away as fast as his' took a leetle old rye with Ben Dykes, whieh had settled in my legs ; but my mind war mighty el'ar." Hilhouse dragged his hair again with his hooked fingers, in an unsuccessful effort to rake out a new thought. " Ye -see, Iwar -set- tin' under a pine-tree, and the darkness it war so thick-" "That will do, sir ." interposed Lowenthal. Then, to Lovelace: "I hope you are satisfied, , colonel ? "I am satisfied that your step-daughter has a lover, sir !" answered Lovelace, with an ill grace., "'There are oher matters that I do not so well understand." .nt w " I can see the love plainly enough,"' observe ed Markthaler, dryly, "but not the treason " "It is quite immaterial what you see, or whatE you do not see ." retorted the planter, in bad temper. "Thar war treason enough todhang a dozen' men," sail Hillhouse ; "but' I didn't mention it, because it war not so interesting' as otherer" Encouraged by an approving nod from Low- enthal, lie went on. "'The new flag is a rag,' sez he, 'and the re- I bellion a monstrous wickedness,' sez he. ' Don't 1 say that outrloud,' sezshe; 'and keep out o' i the way, or you'll come to grief,' sez she., 'They'll hang you for a spy,' sez she. Ands there war more more o' that kind o' talk, and heg )N-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. 47 war very bitter on the 'Federates. He war down on cotton and niggers. 'It war 'dreadful aggra- vatin to hear him run on about our cotton and our niggers. It tetched me in a tender spot, it did. I'd took some old rye, my -legs war weak, but my mind it war mighty el'ar. I wanted to-see his face ; but it war ondommon dark, and you mnought feel the fag-Bends--" "There is too much draught on this man, Lowenthal. Turn his damper," interrupted Markthaler, with a smile and a shrug. Then to Lovelace : ." Which will you punish, colonel; the love or the treason ?" The Confederate officer gnawed his lips and reddened with anger. "I have soldiers within call," he retorted- " and if you should find your way to the guard- house, or the whipping-post, do not be surpris- ed." The tall, symmetrical figure of Jacob loomed higher and higher behind his master's chair. His nostrils expanded, his eyes shot rays of de- fiance. Markthaler sat cool and unmoved, toying with a slip of paper. " You represent," he answered, calmly, "tth. soldier-power, while I represent the cash-power. Cash is ;greater than cotton. Cotton is -local, cash universal. With cash in hand, we marry the prettiest girls, and live in the finest houses." This remark, though quietly -uttered, touched the officer in the most sensitive spot. He wish- ed to marry Milrose, but he had no cotton. He wished to marry Milrose, but he had no negroes. He wished to marry Milrose, but he had no cash. The colonel's chattels had been knocked down by the auctioneer before the siege of Sumter; and his cotton, unfortunately, had perished between the seed and the pod. Had it not been for this, there is no knowing how much he might have been worth. As it was, he sat there with commission from Jeff Davis in his pocket, a large capital of family pride in his head, a good deal of rebellion in his heart, a major-generalship in the distance, and a splen- did sword with which to slay the enemies of the South Carolina Nation. =The colonel, though young, brave, and good- looking, had a heart-disease, and that heart-dis-' ease was Milrose Dorn; and that young lady unconsciously kept him in a painful palpitation of hope and, fear. He had tried to get cured of Milrose, but after several efforts,,yielded to the malady, which had made fearful inroads on his peace of mind.' The singular testimony of Hillhouse revealed to him a secret of which lie had been profound- y ignorant. It astounded him more than a burst of artillery. A feeling of disappointment, mpossible to describe, swept over him ; then came chagrin, and a desire to 'be avenged on some one, and whom so proper a subject of ven. gence as Frederick North ? He had a lingering page: 48-49 (Illustration) [View Page 48-49 (Illustration) ] 48 MILRLOS; R, THE COTTONTPLAN REWS DAUGHTER. wish to be just, but -jealousy an .justice got dollars give, you importance but if youn pres mixed together', and disturbed the nice,,equisiuetoo.neupIel, upon your moneyehests, you poise of the balance which. tihegnetaphorical will commit an error, fatal -alike- to yourt iter- woman holds in her hand. eft and your safety." "The treatment ;f. this easp is very plainly The .plant1 was cholkingly, angry, but, en- indicated," said Lowenthal, sternly.. " Extra- deavored to, Assume. a dignity, that a wrathful ordinary emergencies gall .for' extraordinary tian canseldom successfolly affect. measures. A file of men,.colonel, twenty paces,. Fre~derjovk, Northjlgoket: inquisitively at the a short, sharp word of 9onmand, and we are money-changer. There was an inexplicable freed: of a disloyal,-traitorous citizen." something about. the:lattertlnt excited his curi- "You didn't niention a dranm-head court+ osity. and continually drew his attention. martial," observed Markthale, with a slhg1t :""ftod4oubt, but you are entirely correct," sneer. said tht usurer, drawing from his pocket; a He can expect no less ", said:Lovelage,. e- watch studdedd with diamonds. It reflected a citedly. "We hove more .to far:fromifoes.: thousanr.ays of light.; Lovelace had a vague within, than from foes-,without, If,wespare rensembrance .of seeing.the late Mrs. Lowenthal him the cord, he may thank our forbearane war the same costly time-keepel'. This recol- for it." , .,. . lectio 1 wnkened unpleasant suspicions, and "How grateful [ should be 'for this Confect' gays .frcscope to doubt and conjecture. rate compassion !"', exeliluxe l 2ieleril, with . ioenthal's.pqnfusion increased, and he kept scorn. 'But I confess that .I do, not .yet .see gjsgipg, at. the mysterious paper which the your mercy. If nocturnal,, n perhapsjmpr u money-hldnger still .hekup., Wicked thoughts dent, love-making be a capital ckime, I plead entered! the, planter's, head. .Here was. a man guilty, and have no defence to gf er.. gvea yu, holding a sword over him. Here was a calm, gallant colonel, may have committed thatgrave inp ude felow,, covertly menacing him with offence." ad destruction. .fHere was a. Iow-born usurer aspir- 5o Lovelace writhed, - and studigusly avoiled ing. tq be hisimaster. This could not be endur- meeting the young, an's eyes. This was.a ed. His ;pid .;revolted at sucha censorship. thrust that mortified and'enraged him. . Iiis atredigre.w equal;to his anger. He silent- "iianging," observes. MarktIaler, with an ly sentenced. M rkthsler. air of alastraction, " is no more than he deserves. , ----4 But here is a paper that pszles me." He held, l3etweegg the time of taking out the watch up a slip of. paper,.adjupted his green glasses api thetime of replacing it, the planter had methodically, and. studied it with apart il- nlyntel passed over a, great deal of ground, y terest. "As I was sayir g.' he, added, ' bang- and arrived att s.very startling conclusion. He ing is npne too good, for, him;; but yect-ye;- r tyrned,t Zovclace. the claims of mercy should not.be disregar ee l ', Dispose of this person as you please; but I Let him he shot. This is. a most remarkable, would suggest giving ltitp .his choice of death, signature.!'' . og the,., r nks, Let ,hmisnshoulder, a. musket, or Marktlaler pushed up his speetaelpspulled, stand at twenty paces before the muzzles of a therr down, sawed them sidewise across ihis nose, dozen of.them. What do-you say ?" and became more intense in. his exad inationof . theicer, reected,.if,:imdeed,,he was capa- the paper, .-,ble of reflection at' that moment. " As I remarked, friend Lowenthal," lme went " The suggestion is a.good ore. Young man, on, y this young man merits , a good shooting;; coose quickly. Will yu iake the. gun. and and yet:-;ahem-and yet-how very .annoying, ,haversack, gr.te alternitivae ?" this writing is !' - "Is not this rather summary ?" asked 'red. By this time, the planter had!lie eyes fited eriek, indignautly, - 'By;whtauthority do you on the.troublesome paper withia vague misgiv-, dispense life ard depth ?. ing. : ,,. ".By the authority of "power !" cried Love- Iwas about to add," resumedfMarlthaler, lace. "ncamped-yonder are a;.thousand men, "that treasonis a crime :ogensive like to gods that, in a military sense, are a thousand autom- and men ; but that, mercy commends itself; t' -atona T.hey -rnrab, they countermarch, they oth." - . ,wheel, they load, they fire, at sny bidding. The "Justice is a principle equally;imperative.," country is inrevolution , Isnot that enough?" returned, the planter,, a cold pea'spirsetion.ap- . .How, long, time do.ypu grant me to decide paring upon his forehead, "'whsle hpmuan,, mar- whether I will suffer death, or .fight against the ey la often mistimed an misplaced.".''Allow best government- in the. world ?" demanded me to observe that your remarks are mnoppor- worth. tune =and impertinent. And as for your papers, - " You will answer at once," replied Lovelace, this is not a fitting place, tp examine,. them. loftily. You may be very useful, sir, in your proper . Frederick was on the point of rejecting the sphere, and. there are times when your dirty gun and haversack with proud contempt, when page: 50-51[View Page 50-51] MILROSE; OR, THE COTTON-PLATTER'S DAUGHTER.51 a warning gesture from Markthaler made him CHAPTER XIX. pause. MISSED. Lowenthal drew the colonel to a corner of, When the three cadaverous soldiers had de- the room, and conversed with him in a low tone. parted with North, Lowenthal approached Availing himself of the opportunity, Markthaler Markthaler, and said, in a low voice : approached the young man, and said, hurried- "You have taken an unwarrantable liberty, y:.. sir. This meddling in my affairs is not to lie " Accept the musket and the haversack, and endured. You mean to control my actions by all will be well." Having thus spoken, he went holding over me that paper ; but if you presume back to his seat and assumed his former indif- much on your power, you will commit a fatal ference. _A mistake. I tell you. Beware !" Frederick was so much surprised that he "Beware you!1" answered the money-chang- could not.withdraw his gaze from him. Jacob er, .with firmness. " You know the proverb made an affirmative and encouraging motion. about threatened people ? A forgery, my friend, Those two persons grew more enigmatical to is no light affair, although it is sometimes the him every moment. They exerted upon him a last delusive straw that drowning gentlemen secret influence-a silent power. -clutch at. It is a throw of-the dice on which is Was this Markthaler his- friend? What rea- staked that which is worth more than life, and son had he to be his friend? His words kept which by far outweighs the evil it is intended to running through his mind: "Accept the mus- Sure." ket and the haversack, and all will be well !" "Be quiet ! This is no place to discuss such By a sudden revulsion of feeling, he resolved a subject," rejoined Lowenthal, much disturbed. to be governed by this advice. When Love- "I will yet retrieve all." lace returned and said, preremptorily: "That is impossible !" exclaimed Markthaler, " Your answer, sir ?" in a tone that startled the planter. "You can- North answered: not call back the past. You cannot make a "I yield to circumstances, sir. Give me the fairer record. But that is your niatter, not gun anid knapsack." mine. Rush to ruin if you will, b'ut do not The colonel heard this announcement with draw others after you." surprise. He had expected the young man " I want not your morality, but your money !" would make a different decision, and adhere to sneered the planter, looking uneasily at Jacob it to the last. He could not wholly conceal his and at Lovelace. disappointment. The latter was drumming on a window-pane, "You will find the service," he said, haughti- in a state of gloomy abstraction. ly, "somewhat different from nocturnal love- "I cannot ruin myself," said Markthaler. making !" " Money can not be had f9r the simple asking." "I shall have the honor, at least, of serving " Meet me to-night at Peter Rust's cabin," re- undei' a very chivalrous officer i" replied Fred- turned Lowental, hastily. '-You know where crick, with irony. that is-over yonder by the pines." "One who will have an eye to your comfort, The moneychanger gave him a searching certainly," returned Lovelace, with peculiar look, as he asked : meaning. " You may flatter yourself with "Why choose a spot so solitary ?" probabilities of escape ; but it will be my plea- " It is needful. Do not fail to be there. What sure to reduce these probabilities to impossibili- have you to fear ?" ties." .." Nothing. -I did not say I was afraid. Bu6 " Your good will, Colonel Lovelace, I cannot sometimes, Lewenthal, you are impulsive." doubt," answered Frederick, with dignity. "I The pale lips of the money-changer curled shall bide my time with patience, and wait the with contempt. turn of the tide." At that moment Babel entered the room. Iiw. " Away with him!" said Lovelace, imperious- terrupted by his heavy steps, each of the parties ly. " Watch him well. If he attempts to run looked at him. He walked straight to Lowen- the guard, don't be sparing of your powder., thai, and stopping within a few feet of him Put him into Company A, Captain Middleton." stood motionless. " I have much to thank you for, colonel!" The planter made an impatient gesture. Ba- said North, with a smile of contempt. bel pointed upward with his right hand, then He was immediately hurried to camp, depriv- made the motions of hammering and sawing. ed of his comfortable garments, and-hurried in- The planter nodded that he understood that lie to a suit of dirty gray. Gun and equipments meant Peter Rust. Babel fired a pistol in dumb were assigned him, and, agreeable to orders, lie show, then clapped both hands to his head, was kept under surveillance. A position more closed his eyes, and simulated death the beat unenviable could not have fallen to his dot. way lie could, staiiding up, which was not very -- well; but his pantomime was perfectly intelli- gible to his master, who, making a signal for him page: 52-53[View Page 52-53] 52 MILROSE - OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER- to stop his gesticulations and follow, left-the "Where?" asked the officer, trying. to get room. his understanding out of the fog. Alone with the giant, he caused him to re. "The devil knows!" retorted the planter, an- hearse his mute story, and afterward directed grily. .y him how to dispose of the suppositions body of "This surpasses my comprehension," mut- Peter Rust. It is not necessary to detail his tered Lovelace. ," There is a reason for this." method of communication, but Babel- was in- "There is a reason for everything, sir, but a structed to take away the body at night and a woman's actions," vociferated Lowenthal. bury it in the pine woods. Having received his "While you are trying to find the reason, I orders, the black went his way, and Lowenthal shall try to find something without reason ; add returned to his friends. Re-entering the room, that is the girl, sir !" to his surprise he perceived that Markthaler "I am entirely mystified and amazed ; but and Jacob had gone. you may count on my assistance. At least, I "Lowenthal," said Lovelace, rather moodily, shall aid you as faithfully as you have aided I am forced to remind you that I have not yet me." seen Milrose. You do not keep the ladies of Lovelace expressed, in voice, if not in man- your household under lock and key, I trust ?" ner, the misgivings which he felt respecting the These two men, so like each other in some planter. The latter understood him, and being respects, and so unlike in others, looked at each in bad temper, answered, curtly : other sharply. Suspicion was a guest mutually " Do you accuse me of bad faith, sir ?" entertained. Lovelace no longer felt that he He assumed that dignity which he could could trust Lowenthal. Some portions of the sometimes successfully put on. It is a remark- evidence of Hillhouse disturbed his confidence able fact that guilty persons are apt to think and gave rise to strange conjectures. Milrose themselves accused, and by a singular fatality, and the rebellion were the absorbing thoughts name the very thing they are guilty of. In of his life, and Milrose stood first, in import- nine cases out of ten, persons are sensitive ance. about their hidden sins. " We have been so busy since your return, " I am sorry that you have accused yourself," that there has been little time to attend to said Lovelace, coldly. " Children who hide ladies," answered the planter, coldly. "I was things always betray themselves by looking to- about, however, to make you some amends by ward the spot where they are concealed." sending for Milrose." "Sir, sir !" stammered Lowenthal. " This- He summoned a servant while he was speak- this language, sir, demands explanation." ing A colored tirl appeared, and was sent for "There are other matters thgt need ex' her mistress. She came back with a dismayed planation," returned Lovelace, haughtily. "Let countenance, and the almost incredible an- us wait till the hour of explanation comes. I iotncement that the young lady was not in her am a firm friend, but a poor dupe." chamber, and could not be found. The girl Lowenthal had sense and shrewdness. He told her short story with chattering teeth, for saw that they were hurrying toward a deadly she knew the temper of her master. quarrel; an event for which he was not prepar- " Where's Angeline ?" demanded Lowenthal. ed, and by which he might, in many ways, be " Can't find her nowhar, mars'r," faltered the the loser. Besides, he knew Lovelace was brave, girl. a good shot, and a stickler for honor. He flat- Lovelace stared at his friend in amazement. - tered himself that he could use shim for his own " Tell some of the house-servants to.look for benefit,,also. He swallowed, his rising wrath, her in the garden," said Lowenthal. "Some of and after remaining silent a short time to re- u," lie added, "will get cut up. Begone !" gain his composure, said: hen to Lovelace: " I must go and look into " I can forgive much to a man in love, espe- this, colonel. Stay here; I wil be back in an cially when he holds a weak hand: therefore, instant." colonel, I overlook your hasty words. This is Lowenthal hurried to Milrose's chamber. One really an unpleasant affair, and takes me quite glance sufficed to enlighten him. There was a by surprise ; but I must not be held accounta- runaway air about the room that was plain to ble by you for the freaks of Milrose. Excuse see. There was a nameless look of desertion me ; I must go and look after her." and disorder there. Lowenthal bowed, and left the room with The planter was utterly confounded. The seeming calmness. bird of golden plumage had escaped. He re- turned to Lovelace, startled and wonder-strick- CHAPTER XX. en. To the inquiring look of the colonel, he THE cOLONEL AND THE QUAKER. answered, briefly: Colonel Lovelace seized his hat and hastened "Gone 1" from the house. The air, he thought, was close " Gone ?" repeated Lovelace, vaguely, and suffocating there, and he felt that he should '"Gone !" reiterated Lowenthal, with an oath. never breathe freely again within those walls. MILROSE ; OR, TIIE COT ION-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. The colonel's regiment was called the Beau- fort Guards ;_ and their camp, which was about a hundred rods from Lowentlal's, had been named Carmp Royal. To Camp Royal Lovelace directed his steps. The regiment was drilling by companies. Notwithstanding the pre-occu- pation of his mind, lie paused and looked at them. Comparisons are natural ; they flow out of one's understanding without effort. The Confederate officer was the subject of these mental calculations. His eyes searched in ivain for large numbers of those chivalrous gentle- men said to have shouldered arms in the de- fence of Southern liberties. Instead of knights- errant in gallant array, lie beheld a motley mass of poor and ignorant men, ill-clad and rough. In the midst of this undisciplined crew, he saw Frederick North, with a gun on shoulder. To his surprise, this new conscript appeared not the least embarrassed or put down. He went through the manual drill with notable proupti- tude and precision. His handsome counte- nance, straight and graceful figure, contrasted strangely with those about him. He made no mistakes, and evidently understood the exercis- es better than the drill-officer. Their eyes met. Lovelace blushed ; North smiled and touched his cap. The former felt no triumph in his advantage. The young man made him think of Bunker Hill and the old flag. He sighed and turned away. Milrbse and the rebellion were still in his heart ; but Milrosc first. His hopes had that morning received a fatal wound. He was amazed at the depth and fervency of his love for Mllrose, which the events of the last hour had revealed to him. He wondered at his own wretchedness. He dis- trusted Lowenthal. He resolved to see Hill- house privately, and question hini closely. -' While thinking of these things, Martin Broad- bent approached him. This man's deportment always drew attention. Wherever he went, peo- ple paused to look at him. This was because le differed from others. He was one of those persons that can be felt when they are near. Lovelace bowed recognition from force of habit. '° "Truly, friend Lovelace, this is a goodly ar- ray of the chief captains and the mighty men of war," he remarked. "Hunph!" said the colonel, with a slight jerk of the body. - " These be the men," continued Martin, so- norously. " who take their lives in their hands, and go forth, without purse or scrip, to fight for their substance and their chattels." "They have scrip enough, God knows !" re- torted Lovelace, impatiently. " Thou art captious, friend, and speakest af- ter the manner of the children of this world. I fear thou feelest no enthusiasm at a spectacle 'like this." Martin stopped, then went on. "I pray thee note their warlike bearing. Behold how brightly their bayonets gleam in the sun!" " It happens, unfortunately," said Lovelace, dryly, " that but few of them have bayonets. If a few hundreds of rusty shot-guns gleam, why, then, they gleam." 4 Thou carpest again,' resumed Broadbent. " But if thou wilt fault their guns and equip- ments, I will call thy attention to the alacrity of their movements, the perfection of their drill, and the military ardor that inflnes their faces." " You are either a wag, or a great fanati , Mr. Overseer. I like wholesome praise ; but I have a horror of exaggeration. I can see neither alacrity of movement nor perfection of drill ; and, to speak plainly, their faces are oftener inflamed with whisky than with milita- ry ardor. I should like to find all those manly and soldierly qualities you talk of; but I shall have to look further, I'm afraid. The fact is, these are the dregs of our social system. Few of them are in good condition. Most of then- have been cheated of fair proportions. Low and thriftless habits do not develop 'nianliood. Yonder is a fellow all legs and arms. He is lank and ungainly, lantern-jawed and stoop- shouldered. If you glance around, you will find many like him. It comes of being at the wrong end of the ladder. Now that is not the ngterial for an army." "But, friend Lovelace, the cause will inspire these people. Reflect that all they possess i the world is staked in this contest." " Bali! All they possess in the world wouk not suffice to buy them a pair of brogans eacle , said the officer, annoyed by the persistency of Martin. " Thee must remember that slavery is at stake, and that it is necessary to, the cotton in- terest that the negro race should be subject to man." Broaibent looked gravely and calmly at the Confederate officer, who answered, dubiously. " You are a singular person. I wish you would go away." " Truly, friend, I caiinot depart, for here hath Providence east me to labor faithfully for the subjugation of the black Saxon. Yea, it is my duty to strike, whip, castigate, flagellate, and subdue such as are intrusted to ny care. Verily, I will cry aloud and spare not; and reason with them powerfully, even to the cruai- fying of the flesh. I am not a hard man, and I know my business." " I am a Southern man, and a rebel' of the darkest water, but I loathe barbarity. 1 confess I am somewhat .Afraid of you, Mr. Overseer.. You know too much or too little, and I have not wit enough to tell 'which. In either case you may be dangerous. My head is not so large as yours, Mr. Broadbent; therefore, we had better 58 page: 54-55[View Page 54-55] MILROSE; OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. keep apart. I go in for fighting, but not for mincing up negroesI" Lovelace folded his arms, and partly turned Ids back on the Quaker. "Thou knowest the maiden called Milrose ?" said Martin, abruptly. Lovelace-was now ready to bear. Martin had touched the right string. [ie turned hastily. " -know Miss Dorn," he said. "I was of that opinion," continued Martin. " What did you wish to say of her?" asked the colonel, somewhat coldly. " Not much, friend Lovelace. She was not quite happy, I thought, when I saw her last. Perhaps the rebellion troubles her, or her prop- erty needs looking after. Young girls, it is said, find ways to make themselves miserable. And, of a truth, there are gossiping people who tell strange stories ; or, rather, I should say, vague whispers drift in the air, and reach the ears of some, who, verily, may be prying per- sons given to minding the affairs of their neigh- bors," answered Martin, fixing his eyes incident- ally, apparently, on Frederick North. " Your meaning is dark, friend Broadbent," said the colonel, whose interest was now thor- oughly awakened. " Which way do your sus- pieions point, or what am I to infer from your words? Come, sir ; yius can trust me." "Of a verity, there is a young man in the ranks witlji whose figure and bearing thou canst find no fault. I do not remember to have seen him in the ranks before," observed Martin. " But, as I was saying to thee, the maiden up yonder "-he pointed to the house-" may have more cause for fear and unhappiness than thou thickest. Thou art a man of honor, according to thy prejudices and beliefs ; and I may safely say to thee that the house of Lowenthal has its mysteries."l Lovelace leaned eagerly toward Martin. Every word he uttered was full of startling in- terest. " Do you not know," he said, " that Milrose has disappeared ?" " Heaven give her safety I" exclaimed Mar- tin. , " That implies," remarked Lovelace, thought- fully, "that she has not been safe." " the construction was thine," responded Martin. " Where has the damsel gone ?" " Those who run away, seldom leave word where they are going. Tell me, sir-has Low- enthal,-" "Of Lowenthal I say nothing," interrupted Martin. " Thou hast eyes, and ears, and sense : use them. Why should I take away another man's understanding? Nevertheless, were I an honorable man, desirous of doing good, I would lay aside all rivalry and jealousy, and, rising above partisan hate and private vengeance, seek to befriend a demsel forlorn, who ,hath fallen into the fowler's snare." Martin Broadbent spoke earnestly and more rapidly than usual. Lovelace thought of the testimony of Hillhouse, and his vague conjec- tures began to take form. "Thou knowest thy business, colonel, and I know mine. Thou art a chief captain over men, and I the humble ruler over negroes. Thou art a discipliner of heroes"-Martin's long, white fingers made a thrust toward the Beaufort Guard-" and I the subjugator of chattels. For King Cotton thou swingest the sword ; for King Cotton I swing the whip. We serve the same mighty Moloch. Great is Dia'na of the Ephe- sians !" The two men faced each other., The axes of their eyes met. Martin was firm and steady. The officer 'was held in silence and doubt. He recoiled, putting forth his hands, as if to push Martin back. Martin raised his arms, till they seemed to tremble over all the cotton in the South, and said, in a suppressed voice : " Cotton, all hail ! Thou art indeed a king, clothed in purple and finelinen. Thou goest forth conquering and to conquer. Thou leadest men captive. Thy chariot-wheels crush old and young, and the blood flows even to the bridle-rein ! Hail, all hail!" Lovelace gasped, like a drowning man. He brushed his hand across his brow, and seemed terrified. His gaze wandered over the broad cotton-fields. A vision of fire and blood swam before his sight. " What are we," resumed Martin, solemnly, " that we should fear to die for the king? Let us cast ourselves under his groaning chariot- wheels. Let us perish with our wives and sweet. hearts ; with our mothers, fathers, and broth- ers. Men die but once. How glorious to fall for the purple monarch ! Like the Moslem leader, we may proclaim, "Paradise to those that fall !" Lovelace did not speak; lie could not. He was overborne by Martin. He saw armies, and bayonets, and banners, artillery and bursting shells, red shields and trampled fields. "There will be a sound of mourning in the land," continued Martin, in a tremulous tone. " Mothers weeping for their first-born, and wives wailing wildly over slaughtered husbands. But what of this? Cotton is king, and England and France, and all the nations of the earth, kneel at his bloody shrine. Go on ! go on ! Count not the cost. God will smile at the earnage, and applauding angels clap their hands. Bid the birds of the air to the feast ! Long live the sovereign that has but one institution, and one rallying-cry to battle !" He paused a moment. " Thou to thy work-I to mine. Shake out the stars and bars! Down with the Union and the Constitution !" Lovelnee turned away from Martin in wonder mnd dismay. Never had sach pictures been- '1 painted on his imagination. When he looked np to make an angry retort, the place where Martin had stood was vacant. . . CHAPTER XXL PETER RST. We left Milrose in a situation painful and embarrassing, from which every fminine in- itinet of her nature shrank with terror and loathing. She saw no means of escape., She resisted at every step ; but, opposed to his rough strength, her feeble hands wer9 unavail- ing. Perceiving that she was wasting her pow- ers fruitlessly, she made a resolute endeavor to regain that self-possession so needful in moments of danger. Having a vigorous intellect, a commanding will, and a quick wit, she would, no doubt, have succeeded in overcoming her excessive fright, and subduing that weakness that injured instead of aiding her, when the timely appearance of Peter lust put an entirely new aspect upon the whole matter. Peter of the Pines came sud- denly from among the. trees, and advancing si- lently and swiftly upon Ben Dykes, tripped. up his heels and laid him upon the ground. The two dogs made a feeble assault upon Peter's legs, but a few well-directed kicks sent them yelping away. Dykes remained where he had fallen, quite breathless and amazed, with his feet entangled in a cluster of laurel. " Look out there, -youngster I" said Peter, warningly, to Milrose. " Don't step into his mouth ! Better get your foot into a bear-trap, than into them there jaws." Milrose ,was unable to speak ; she was in a flutter of joyful emotion. "Don't be afeard," said Peter. "The dan- ger's all over. This critter, you see, isn't in a condition to hurt ye." While Peter was speaking, he gave Ben some sharp strokes with his foot, and added, after- ward : " Get up, you dog-trainer of the ,turpentine' woods, and take yourself off in double-quick'! We'll have a settlement of our accounts one o' these days, I guess." Dykes extridated his feet, arose, and flew at Peter, who parried his wrathful blows and trip- ped up his heels again. Just then Milrose discovered Swampsey, a little beyond Peter, cutting capers with wonder- ful rapidity. As for Angeline, her courage came back in a nost remarkable manner. "1 Laws, Miss Lilly !" she exclaimed, forget- ting her role. "Tole ye 'twa'n't nothin'. What's the use being' scared at a low white trash like Turpentine Ben ?" . Milrose gave her maid an admonitory shake, to bring her back to prudence. 3eu Dykes got up and sneaked away, mutter- ing threats and curses. Day was now dawning. Faint rays of light fell on the pale face of Milrose. Peter of the Pines contemplated her with manifest embar- rassment. - " You need not ,tremble," he paid, encourag- ingly. " I know enough of you to understand how you should be, treated. Don't look down and blush. I like spirit and bravery. Folks is sometimes forced to do what they'd rather not. But the best way is, to draw a cheerful face and make the best ont. I remember ye well. How could I forget that face? I couldn't - never, never ! It come to me up there"-he pointed toward the plantation-" like an angel's. I own I never 'saw nothin' like.it, and for a moment or so, I allowed you was supernat'ral." " Love o' God !" cried .Angeline. "'Pears like cur secret is cl'ar gone !" " Never mind your secret," replied Peter, "butcome with me. What I can do for you, I'll do with hearty good-will, and with no more cur'osity than is nat'ral to human natur'." " I thank you for your kindness," said Mil- rose, recovering her confused faculties. " I am sure you are very considerate. But do not mis- take my feelings: I do not regret the step I have taken, nor do I blush at these garments. I am young, but not a child, sir. I have no in- clination to-play the fainting heroine. My story is brief. I was in danger under the roof where I should have been entirely safe. I determined not to remain there longer. I made my escape; therefore, by a combination of circumstances not foreseen, I am here, and in this attire. Abashed I may be ; disappointed I certainly am ; but return I will not ! Do you understand me, Peter Rust ?" Milrose spoke in a firm yet sweet tone of voice, and her consistency and courage had a favorable effect on Peter. " I was born and brought up, miss, in a coun- try where women are middlin well understood ; in a country where the people are some'at gives to the extreme of right, but a good country, nevertheless." Peter, who had all the while held his double- gun in his hand, laid it carefully in the bend of his left arm, studiously keeping its muzzle pointed from Milrose. "I can .say, miss, that I think I know your meaning," he added. " Don't let your little heart have a quiver of fear or a throb of mis- givin'. I like your spirit;. and from the knowl- edge I have of -Lowenthal, I edge you haven't escaped an hour too soon. You saw me there at work ; and who that prison was for, you ought to know as well as I." " My own convictions terrify me !" answered Milrose. " Lordy ! How that little nigger does swivel round !" exclaimed Angeline, who could not l;eep 1 i" (F4f r c5 64 MILROS"E ; OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. 6 page: 56-57 (Illustration) [View Page 56-57 (Illustration) ] 50 MILROSE ; OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGi[TE. her eyes from Swampsey, whose ground per- I was bigger crossways," affirmed Angeline f formances were to her a continual surprise. " Why dTon't you make him decenter ? I "Cone dn, miss, and we'll talk as we go," 'twasn't for that tow contraption, he'd be done said Peter of the pies. "It'ain't well foil us to gone naked !" loiter here. There's no tellin' who may be after " Little Dismalis such an oncommon modes 1 , us. I expected, to be hunted ,and I am sure boy," quoth Peter, looking queerly at Angeline, you will be. -Takethis path, ihiss ; for we must " that he don't need -s many clothes as son go'a' different direction, and mislead~ them as that are whiter. He has, besides, all the good uasy follow. IfI ,know Loenthal's object, he qualities 'of the dog ; he is "faithful and happ won't be likely to let youget'away without pur- with his master., He hasn't no tail to waggle; suit; and'he won'ldn't'niihsd sending' a, hundred but he waggles his eyes beautiful ! As for talk of hismen-to -beat the bush for such a bird." in', he'can talk better nor any parrot you eve " Be you 'a Unioner?"'asked Angeline. "'If see. Not that Swanmpsey is a great talker, fo yotn. be, you won't stan' no chance'at all ; for he isn't."' they's down on-the Unioners, anyways !" "He can say 'Mars'r Peter.!' " retorted An "The Unioners, as y-ou call 'em, Twill speedily geline, mimicking. be down-on t 'em.' We shallsoon have startling' "Ay," replied Peter warmly, "he can say i news, from Port-Royal. The thunder of YAn- as nobody else can ! What he says is always t kee guins'll soon awake the South from it'-" the p'int." Peter Rust spoke with earnestness, and check- "I can witness to that," observed Milrose; ed himself suddenly.' "for'all his wishes were comprised in : ' Wan "The colonel says the Seceshers have sunk Mars'r Peter got out!' torpidities -down tlere at' Royal, and laid all "And he got me out, spite of Lowenthal, Ben sorts o" conti-apti'ns 'to 'blow 'ekn;up. Guess Dykes, and tige whole of 'em; and that's a den there'll be a 'scattterin' among 'em; leastways," for a 'ho' -o'-my-thumb -contraband -to do," an remarked Angeline, her eyes still following the swered eter, warmly. movements of Swampsey. " My maid," responded Milrose, " is rathe Nobody replying, she asked: "- forgetful. She' should remember that Swamp. "Can't that toddlepole say nothin' but Mars'r sey -piloted us from the dog-trainer's hut ver Peter ? The little flippbrtygibbet scrambled up skillfully, though he, no doubt, had his instrue / to Miss Milly's winder,-and we thought, for all tions-frm you. Therefore, Mr. Rust, allow in the world, that the old Nickerson, herself, had to thank you-and him; -'Your name was favor come ! He said ' Mars'r Peter,' and wanted a bly mentioned to me last night, by-by a friend rope." I was told' that, in an emergency, I might trus "You must tell me about- this strange little you."'e y g creature, Mr. Rust,"- said Milrose. "He meini- -"'And that friend's name, I guess," said Po1 fested a great desire to help you. Poor fellow ! ter, "is Frederick North." He'a too snikll'to'be'of much service." '- 'Milrose felt' the blood quickening in her "Oh !" answered Peter. "You was speakii' cheeks; while Peter of the Pines assumed addi of Little Dismal.. It 'ain't the size of'a person tional interest in her eyes. that makes him useful, I reckon. -I owe my " Sinee you are acquainted with Frederick,/ liberty to Swnampsey, small as he is." am sure you will be my friend ?" she said, in Peter then i-elated the manner' of his escape, genuously, after a moment of reflection. not neglecting to give the lad all the credit .he - " That you may depend on," returned Peter .deserved.- heartily.- "If I didn't know Frederick North "Why do you call him Little' Dismal?"- Mil- if I dia know that you hadn't a friend in th rose inquired, casting a curious glance at- the world, I'd be your friend all the same, for you object of their conversation., -own sake, and for nothin' else." "Because I found him-in' AlligAtor Swamp, "I am glad I have fallen into such hands -which is also called -Little Dismal, and lays These assurances give me strength and hope,' cheek by jqwl with the Great' Dismal.. I call Milrose answered, quickly. "And now," sh hin aLsorts'o' names, and it-makes nodaifferonce, added, " my friend, where are we going'?" 'I fished' him out o' the .mud, yd see, and lie's 'To,-a hidin'-place, I hope, miss. We mus pooty'much the cblor on't. 'I'm a slaveholder; penetrate far into the piney-woods, where th but I didn't 'vest no ready money. He's an in- hounds of Dykes and the human hounds of Low stitution, though he never' planted a seed 6' cot- enthal won't' be likely to track us. How is ton, or pinkid' a pod ' but'he can suck a sugar- with you, miss? Are you mighty tired? You't cane, eat a"sweet-per'tater, or steal a chicken had a dismal time on't.siAee last night; but' with the best of 'em ; not to mention his perfi- you can'stan' it a little longer, shelter, and food W eienef in jumpin'." ' and rest, will work wonders for ye." " Laws, Peter ! He ain't big enough for a Milrose professed herself able to walk a Ion institution noways ! 'Pears as though institu- distance further ; and, with niany encouragin tions was set up higher fromn tine ground, and 'words, Peter Rust led them onward. S-I 4'4 / '7. page: 58-59[View Page 58-59] MILROSE ; OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. CHAPTER XXII. THE PLANTER AND THE OVERSEER. The scene with Ela, in the slave-hut, made a deep impression on Martin Broadbent's mind. Like a faithful guardianir, lie kept watch near the hut till morning. His anger was equal to his vigilance. It was a steady and unquenchable flame that burned within him. There were many dangers to be averted from her head. To save her from the malice and baseness of Low- enthal, was his fixed purpose. He feared that he might visit her secretly, and discover the de- ception that had been practiced ; in which event, it was difficult to foresee what might happen. Martin was a man of resolution. His courage was of a calm and elevated .kind. In a just cause, he was full of noble daring. In the presence of Ela, he had thrown off the repul- sive character which he had assumed. He had stood before her as he really was-a :revelation, most surprising and agreeable. Her feelings it is not possible to describe ; they were of a mingled and tumultuous nature. There was first a dizzy whirl of wonder ; afterward, a staggering incredulity ; then, an electric glow of convic- tion; and finally, a full and joyful conscious- ness of protection. In her. esteem, Martin Broadbent grew to fair and heroic proportions. Be came to her, as an angel in a place where there was no light. His quiet face was continu- ally in her sight, strengthening her through the long nights. When, after some hours of restlessness, she fell asleep, she dreamed of Martin, and beheld him towering like a giant between herself and Lowenthal. While her mind thus instinctively clung to her preserver, he was keeping silent vigil over the but that sheltered'her. In the morning, when other duties called him away, he placed a trusty negro in charge. After his interview with -Colonel Lovelace, he was slowly returning to the negro-quarters, when he met his employer. Lowenthal was excited. The full'effects of the disappearance of Milrose were upois him. He was amazed and alarmed. With these two emotions, there were alternations of anger. This meeting with Martin seemed to him opportune. He wanted somebody to venti- late his wrath upon.I "This plantation, sir, is rather loosely con- ducted, sir! My daughter has run away, sir !" he exclaimed, in a loud and fault-finding voice. " I am not thy daughter's keeper, friend Low- enthal," answered Martin, wildly. My duties are limited to the negro race. It is not mine to control men and women but to govern chattels !" " But you should have your eyes about you, sir !" retorted the planter. "You ought to see what is going on around you, Mr. Broadbent." " I tell thee, friend Planter, I have nothing to do with thy daughter. The services that I give thee for a stipulated sum, touch not thy house- hold. If thou thinkest I would undertake to control a woman, young or old, tlhou art greatly mistaken. I know the sex are rebellious ; and the younger and comelier, the more rebellious. Heaven defend me from the care of damsels ! I can use the schoolmaster-which is the whip -with some small skill and success. I can flag- ellete, castigate, macerate, score, and under- score, with acceptation and profit; but when it comes to the nicer manipulations and manage- ment of woman-kind, I confess my inability and weakness." Broadbent rolled up his eyes, and sighed. " Bah !" said Lowenthal, contemptuously " Didst thou ' Bah' to me, friend Lowenthal? I'd rather thee wouldn't ' Bali' to me. I am not a goat, that thou shouldst 'Bah' to me after the manner of such I" "Not a goat, but a donkey !" sneered tire planter. "The animal thou likenest me to, is- a most useful, though not comely beast ; and like the black chattel, worketh well when subjected to man. Yet I would prefer to be likened to the noble horse that combineth utility with beauty and strength. And that remindeth me that it seemeth a great mistake of Nature that the Black Saxon was not made to go upon all fours, like his co-worker, the ox." Martin looked serious and reflective. His employer stared at him. "I can class the world under two heads," he said, keeping his eyes on the Quaker. " Take a sheet of paper and draw a line through the centre of it. At the top, on the left of the line, write fools ; on the right, write knaves ; and under these two headings you and I and every-- body else may find our places." " Nay, there are some foolish knaves and some knavish fools," answered Martin, with im- perturbable phlegm. "That is but a variation on the same two strings. You may ring the changes on them, cut them into half-notes, quarter-notes,' or eighths, flatten or sharpen them to your taste, and they will still be the same. Pure folly and pure knavery may not often be met with, but we can afford to give the name to the prepon- derating article. I have not classified you, yet, Broadbent, and I'm sometimes afraid that you'll go far to upset my system; but I'm after you, like Agassiz after a fish ; and if we don't dis- agree, we shall be good friends. Bht I'm watch- ing you, Martin. - Don't get in my way, and you won't be stepped on." .The planter gave Martin a meaning glance. " I should hate to have thee step on me !" observed the latter. " How is the girl Ela ?" asked L6wenthal, abruptly. "I hope you haven't been too hard on her. I didn't mean to submit Ifer entirely to your damned cruelty. I trust she is well enough ?" He walked about uneasily. 59 ;ic, page: 60-61[View Page 60-61] MILROSE, OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. " Be not concerned. These runaways are not Hence we are defrauded of their labor. But so easily killed," replied the nonchalant Mar- happily I find, upon examination, that this girl tia. Ela was not seitiously harmed, though her gar- " Martin---" ments were torn. It happened, strangely enough, The planter pulled out his watch and looked that the dumb creatures hesitated about taking- at it nervously, hold of her-deceived, no doubt, by the white. Broadbrim waited patiently. ness of her skin; which comes of wickedly "What did she say, Martin ?" , mixing the blood of man with the chattel race. "What those with a smattering of white I must inform thee, moreover, that the best blood are apt to say," answered IBroadbent. tracker of the pack was, by some deplorable " Verily, this mixing of the races is a sin and accident, killed outright in the scuffle. It was a shame! We want no white blood in the veins thy new dog of great power and beauty, Diana." of the chattel. We must give him no half, "What! Is that splendid creature dead ? I- quarter, or eighth of a soul, by illicit admix- had rather have lost the best nigger on the ture. I protest that we must give him not so plantation !" much soul as there is in one drop of pure An- "It was not killed outright, but died shortly glo-Saxon blood. If we give the negro soul, after, in spite of the best skill of the plantation- we can't lash and cut him ; and I tell thee there doctor, and the careful attentions of the man can be no well-ordered slave-system without the Ben, whose surname is Dykes." whip." 'Broadbent thrust Ms whip' under his arm, "The girl is quite white. I bought her at sighed, and cast his regretful eyes skyward. Port Royal the other day. Got her cheap, on His sympathies seemed much drawn out for the account of the times, and the difficulty of luckless Diana. managing her. The fact is, she was too smart " Had it been the dog, Floyd," he added, with for her mistress, who is rather too weak to mournful cadence, "named after the great finan- practice the necessary severity. She told a cial appropriator, I should have minded less the pitiful story, I suppose ?" loss ; but that animal only had a leg broken Lowenthal avoided Martin's eyes, and pre- from being stepped on by one of the hunters." tended to look at the distant tents of Camp "A hound that I would not have sold for a Royal. Martin, who was always seen with his hundred dollars !" exclaimed the planter, angri- whip in his hand, gave it a flourish, and made by. "It was done by one of them damned nig- it snap like a pistol. gers, I'll wager ! You can't trust 'em. While "I make it a rule," he said, deliberately, "not appearing to help you, they'll always manage to to let them talk much. Silence is the word do mischief. [a deviltry they're infernally in- when punishment is the necessity. We should genious! If y of our fellows were to blame, have enough to do, were we to believe the go and thrash- them. - Poor Diana! Her eyes chatterings of negroes. With me, it is a word always glistened at sight of a black. She would and a blow ; and I think it most politic to give worry the houso-servants in mere sportiveness. the blow first. An overseer must inspire fear. They were all mortally afraid of her. One day I would have their jaws rattle like castanets, last'summer, when I struck Babel, she sprang when they hear me coming ! I am not a hard upon his shoulders and gave him a right smart man, but I know my business !" nip in the clheek. And there's Floyd, too ! Martin contracted his features till he looked What a glossy coat he has! There isn't such a as ugly as a heathen god. log for poultry in the wholegountry. Our " You'll spare when I tell you to spare !" people couldn't keep a chicken Uut he'd steal it. muttered Lowenthal.- "Keep Eba under strict And as for a long race through the turpentine restraint, but do not strike her. Give her food woods, there are but few dogs can keep in sight from the house; and see that you -close your of him. Have his leg properly set, Martin, and ears to her artful tales ; for she has that curse see that inflammation don't set in. There ! that of all slaves-education. You said the dogs will do for dogs and niggers. Now about this worried her. Now I charged that shiftless Ben truant daughter. Tell me frankly if you have Dykes not to let tooth of hound touch her ; and seen her lately." if she is much hurt,'I'll have him torn to pieces " Nay, I have not seen her for two days, and by his own howling pack !" can give thee no clue to her present abiding- Martin felt his blood thrilling, but maintain- place," answered Martin. ed a quiet demeanor. Lowenthal infused un- "It's an unaccountable thing'!" observed Low- usual energy into his voice, and his manner did enthal, abstractedly. " I am greatly disturbed not indicate that indifference which he wished by it. Make inquiries, Martin. Take some of to affect. the most reliable boys, and search in the vicin- " Ben-Dykes is somewhat too willing to slip ity. I have already trusted somewhat to your the leash," returned Martin. "We want our discretion. You helped me about Peter Rust, runaways caught, but neither maimed nor lacer- who, by the way, proved to be a Yankee spy. ated ; for chattels heal not readily of dog-bites. On searching him, important papers were dip, MILROSE; OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. 61 covered, which put his character beyond a - do with her! The simple question thrilled him. doubt. He made a dastardly assault on me, and His calm face flushed. He thought what he I shot him. There ! that disposes of him. So would do with her, if she would say " yes " to a perish all enemies of Southern rights !" certain question. He drew upon his imagina- Lowenthal gave Broadbent a sidelong glance, tion for a very pretty little home. This was to measure the amount.of his belief or unbelief; much for Martin to do. - It -was the only draft to see if his countenance said, "1 It is well !" But of theikind he had ever made. He marveled at Martin had control of his features, and there his own haste.. were obscure pages in ancient books easier to " If I had my own way, I know what I would read than his face. do with thee," answered Martin, glancing mod- "I could have made Peter of the Pines serv- estly at. Ela. " I would marry thee !" iceable had he not . been contumacious," re- Ela recoiled. This plain confession seemed, sumed the planter. "But it is now of no con- for a moment, to confound her. She looked at sequence. If you -know anything that you do Martin, saw his earnest, honest face, and was not quite understand, keep it to yourself. Silent not offended. men are the safest." "There should be no offence when none is With these words, impressively spoken, Low- meant," she said, seriously. e thal left Martin. "In word or deed I would not willingly offend thee," replied Martin, quietly., "lie who would CHAPTER XXIII. wantonly wound thy delicacy, would be sorne- WHAT MARTIN WOULD DO. thing less than a man, and I would treat him as We will not now give the history of Ela. . At my enemy. I -am not one to use vain and un- resent we will call her by the simple name of meaning speech. .Thou pleasest me, Ela. I call la. After receiving the general instructions of thee Ba, for this simple name is all I know of Lowenthal, Martin Broadbent hastened . to the thee ; and having seen thee and heard thy voice, hut where she had remained since her attempt- I am content with it. Since yesterday 'Ela' ed escape. It was with varied emotions that he has become the cabalistic word of my life. found himself in the presence of this interesting 'Why should I not tell thee so? If the truth girl. Her face, though pale, was now animated displeases thee I will never repeat it, and there with hope.- She had made efforts at tidiness. the matter will end. Though I sometimes dis- She had smoothed her disordered hair, and made guise my character, I trust that character is al- the most of her poor garments. ways trueto the right. Therefore, whcn I say She received Martin with a faint smile and I would marry thee, I n.ean it partly for thine cheeks that glowed with pleasure. own safety, and partly for mine own bappintss. " I hope thou hast rested after thy fatigues This straightforwardness is not after the nman- of mind and body ?" he said. ner of the world. Delay and falsehood. are the " Better than seemed possible yesterday," she common methods of courtship. But he n ho answered. "But I thought I had found a loves, will not love better for seven years' woo, friend, and that thought brought sleep with it." ing. She who is wooed seven years aid desert, " Thou artstill anxious," added Martin, watch- ed, is out of market and of her good name. khe Ing her expression. who is aooed and wedded in a day, hath love "I am sometimes afraid that you will not be to plead,' the youthful romance of hope to sup. able to protect me," she replied, with a troubled port, and more than an equal chance for happi- look. ness. And if it happen that she repent at leis- " A natural fear, but one wlich thee may dis- ure, she cannot say that she bath been utterly miss from thy mind. While I am wife, thou cheated of life's sweetest delusions. Pardon shalt be." me, Ela ! I am bold ; but it is the soul's pr o- The Quaker gazed. earnestly at the young phetic voice that giveth me boldness. It is my woman. Her beautiful eyes darted rays of light soul that speaks to thee. Thou nearest a voice. that went like magnetic currents to his heart. but, that which addresseth thee niaketh no This fair Eve that he had found, threw over him sound, and- is silent forever !" a sweet and bewildering influence that was both Martin turned his large blue eyes on Ela: pleasing and novel, yet 'wondrously strange. they were full of quiet devotion and lofty senti- He felt that he was looking too much at Ela, meat. A soul of glowing sensibility and tender and that her idea already existed within him as passion beamed through them. a part of himself. This consciousness kept say- Ela, who was shocked at first, smiled when ing, "Ela! Ela !" His intellect and his affee- he began-this long response, was interested by tions echoed the word. His soul was like a whis- the time lie reached the middle of it, and pering gallery, and -"Ela" went floating and blushed at its conclusion. sighing through its mysterious arches. " You talk well,.-Mr. Broadbent, and I thank "What will you- do with me, Mr. Broad- you for the compliment conveyed in your pref- bent?" erence; but wait, sir, till you know me," she She looked up into his face. What would he- answered, gravely. P' F} j 4 fit, ^4 ; 4. { I. F Z it, j' n. ,4. r s y, r IF r 6 ' {f t t1 w page: 62-63[View Page 62-63] V' 62 MILROSE; OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGIhTER. ( "I never shall know thee better !" said Mar- tin, impressively. "The heart knows when it finds its mistress ; the-soul is conscious when it is near it is kindred soul, and the contact and thrill of an answering spirit is unmistakable. I am not a man of theory, but a man of prac- tice; yet practicality itself flows from the ideal. But I will not weary thee. Forgive this much to a simple-minded Quaker. Thou wilt not be less safe for having inspired me with such feel- ings. My love shall be about thee as a wall of fire. Reflect on my poor offer. Accept or re- fuse, as shall seem good unto thee. Meantime, prepare to leave this evil place." " A thousand thanks for your flattering opin- ion t" returned Ela, whose self-possession was now measurably restored. The unstudied utter- ances of a noble mind .cannot but be received with deference and gratitude. " Your goodness shall not be misconstrued by me. Your senti- ments neither shake my confidence nor inspire distrust. I have faith in you. Let the future decide your views of Ela. In regard to leaving this place, I am entirely at your discretion." She said this with so much modesty and grace, that Martin's previous impressions were greatly strengthened. "We are friends," he said. " In token of my friendship, here 1s my hand," answered Ela. They shook hands, and he held hers some moments- in his; then, with some cheerful words, left her to make prepara- tions for leaving the plantation. CHAPTER XXIV. THE MEETING AT THE, CABIN, Attended by Babel, the planter appeared at Peter Rust's cabin at the appointed time.' Markthaler was there. He -was sitting at a rough pine table, and Jacob stood behind him. The small interior was lighted by a single lamp, which threv a fitful glare onthe pale face and gray beard of the usurer, whose young fea- tures contrasted most strikingly with his flow- ing white hair. There was a certain classic delicacy in the arch cf the brow, the turn of the chin and nose, and the cut of the mouth, that could not escape the attention of even a common observer. There were, at times, a sublimated sneer upon the lips and a haughty quivering of the eyelids, that gave occasional intimations of what was passing within. "I expected," said Lowenthal, evidently dis- appointed, " to meet you alone." The money-lender pointed significantly at Babel. " He's a deaf mute," replied the planter to this silent qeuery. " Jacob is a 'deaf mute, when I wish him to pe. Besides, be is not such a monster as your Babel.. You perceive that. Jacob has regular features and a fair person ; but yours is a very Caliban, hacked and seamed, like a barbaric } = f a t1'[it , f b j j22 *' . Mv i'! r," 1 ,^'+ :, "' iJ ; a , chief. It is well he cannot speak, for one might look for a dreadful voice out of that body. Why didn't you bring the devil with you, without any ceremony? Markthaler drummed on the table with his small, white hand. Babel, 'standing just' be- hind his master, kept his large eyes on Mark- thaler while he was speaking, and there was something approximating to wonder in his ex- pression. A thought, new and suggestive, was working in his mentality. " Stand behind me Jacob," added Markthaler. "Sit there, 'Lowenthal, and put your moon-calf where you like. There! Now what do you want?" ~ " Not quite so imperative, good Jew !" an- swered Lowenthal, frowning. "You are not in your money-den at home. However," he said, in a milder tone, "he that holds the purse con- trols the sword. My want is not a new one ;,it is chronic. You know, well enough, what it is. What can you do for me ?" "Nothing !" replied Markthaler with quiet- ness. " You will do nothing!" repeated Lowen- thal, contracting his brows. "That is it, sir." The long taper fingers of the money-lehder still drummed lightly on the table. It was an aristocratic hand. The planter wondered why it did not belong to a born gentleman, instead of a usurer. " Concerning those papers ?" he said, and stopped. " Go on." Glancing over the planter's head, Markthaler saw Babel's face working with emotion. The idea that had crept into his dark head seemed to have something startling in it. "Have you brought them ?" asked Lowen- thal. " Jacob has them. Hold them up, Jacob." Jacob held up a bundle of papers. "One of those papers'I must have !" -said Lowenthal, depressing his voice. "Must is for kings and usurers," replied Mark- thaler. 'i The fact is, Lowenthal, coffers have bottoms, and all things have an end. Our busi- ness is about done. I see no way of turning you to any future account. You have no prop- erty. What you had, and what you appeared to have, is tied up in those papers. The negroes don't belong to you, neither does the planta- tion. I have given you money on~ everything that you possessed before your second marriage. I have even lent you on some of your step- daughter's diamonds. You represented to me that ,you owned everything ; but Miss Milrose, is the legal owner of the estate and its belong- ings. Now, what do you propose to do ?" The two looked at each other across the table. "I will tellyou," answered the planter,.pres- MILROSE; OR, THE COTTON-PLA1NTER'S DAUGHTER. ently, leaning toward the usurer, and speaking I "You choose to be sarcastic," said the in a low voice ; "I will marry Milrose !" planter, repressing his resentment. "lBut Marktihaler recoiled from the scheming face usurers are very facetious gentlemen." that Lowenthal thrust toward him. For the " Shylock was," answered Marktlhaler. first time during the interview, the usurer man- "Be human, my friend,' continued the plant. ifested surprise. er, in a conciliatory manner. "Return me a 'Marry Milrose I" he repeated, with a startled certain paper. You cannot wish to ruin one espression- out of whom you are coining money. Give it "" You are astonished," said the planter, dry- up, and be assured of my friendship and pro- ly Y "ou are not proof against all the emo- tec pron." tions' oP, human nature. Pale, sir, too-pale ! I That paper is ny rod," said the usurer, What business has a usurer to be pale, unless smiling. . " When you are contumacious, I shall his money-bags'are in danger? But this does give you a blow. The rod, you know, is a not put 3 our coffers in peril ; on the contrary, 'outhside medicine. Your overseer believes in it will help fill them. .Yes, I will marry Miss it, you believe' it, and so do I. I must not Dorn! 61e is called my step-daughter. But be shorn of my strength." what of that .There is no blood relationship. "By - ! I will not be trifled with, sir !" 'The woman I married had a daughter ; .that Lowenthal gav*the deal table such a blow daughter is grown to woman's estate. her that it hopped on its legs. miiothei was lost at sea. 1 ant now simply that " Markthaler, don t go too far ! I alsd have young lady's guardian. She is very rich." a rod-a rod of power. If it hall on you, it will Very sensible, indeed! I suppose the girl grind you to powder ! Let me tell you that will be glad to marry you !".you are even now an object of (istrut It von Malktaler's lips curled, and his nostrils di- lrovoke rme to it, il haang you higher than lated. nman's gallows !" There is something offensive in your tone." Lowenthal was in a furious passifon. said Lowenthal, tartly. "If I utar-y Miss "Staid bhind rme, Jacob:' ica ilie mony- Dori, 'you neel give yourself no uneasiness leader, esnmly, then 'glanced at Labt , whose about ier -feelings. Your business is *ith disturbed features Were becoiniig itranqmuil money, and not with women." - The yellow HI icrion being airreniciy behind "She is pretty, I believe," remarked the his-master's, chair, Ioved not a muscle. money-rhindei'.. " I3 on: rnea midch ief," add( d I he usure r. iShe S momrethan that :eshe is beautiful !" "Very well. You will always flu me 1.reliar- " Bt three is Lovelace ?" el. though steel and poison are difileu, itI vnde. " Pshaw ! Lovelace is but my tool, and lie is 'Tiese troubled days give the murdei"(r mndi no- poor'. I cannot marry her to a beggar."- sassin a good chance to ply his inihinus t rade." " Of course riot ! 'ou will marry her your- Loweiithtl fmibled it his bieasi pochetL self, whieh will be a very different thing." - - Jacob held up ie bund le of lapetrs. .lie usurer smiled. " It will inot do," said Maria Ii; hr. " You The plalter's face reildened. He dar'ted an Icannot safely kill ie here. Jeob :ni 1 are a angry look at Markthaler. match for you and 'Label. You n a n 14t in o y ~-ou have an eye to the maiii chance," add- and Milrose, inot Iblood. Ev-i h-w'. lii il ed the latter. "When this little fiormality of you like the workmanship oPeter'itust marriage is comfortably through with, I wih 'i he plhr-trdid not, :niu r. take your secities, and you shall have money ; " Wh1y did ol wisf, o build -a priso in voi.r till then, I must; hold the- poor paper I have; I house t saMi Marktbiale. and make the best-of it." . Do not ineddie wilih m 1,iva e dira- !"' .Il have not informed you," faltered the' nutt'ed Loweithal, ii coninath d adl moni e. hlite',' " that.Miss Dora is not, at present, at .Then do not ih in nat e i. I ivi Ia lk'mu I. fact, she .has, disappeared -"itther- than one od. you seet - ji neeii c, i , car-i;-. mysttierioiusly ; but I shall soon find her." gate yoe with Pete' 1 ust - Alh ! that is rather important.. You ennmt Lwe-tlial wonrlerd if the usor ' .1 la(" mary. ber tilt yon have found her.- Linedn, hind slut Peter tiust. lirociie h he r ': fil Iat you sknow, ainiot hang. Mr. Davis till ho hem'nd thus dispsted i I . lr fi.. i . catches h 'hni."u-hd anot a dou'hr.. i ha- " i rtl r The planter bit this lip. ,"-'We :iris Irtintir in ti e , in 4 TI.i .quicker you make your proposal to lie stmui d, " nil hr ie. a this pn-etty creature, the better," the usauer on o i' ptIv'ie, C- ii it he iiriui, I'' tyumed ; e" settle the matter at onice" stuniiioer, nor rialeily ui_'., j. - - As soon as I can discover whore e is."' i s'a or. an i ei sii , Did she leive you hecauie she loved you ? 'Ied lngerst We a nil m i w, a 'as it mlaien coyness' that umide herfl'v ftirom. it) -ti-'u to-' . I. .F,., Le' own Young girls are singularly fhatastae. I shl shiruni i u OiI\ tau ,:;.; i ,t t , i jt i 1' it fi t u ! f . ' S y page: 64-65[View Page 64-65] 64 MILROSE ; OR, TUE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. "I have no such thought," replied Mark- his value. In time, we shall lose the pure no- thaler. "You will endeavor to remove every gro stock." obstacle that stands in your way. But this is a: "D-n the pure negro stock I" exclaimed the profitless conversation. Neither of us will at- planter. " I don't want to hear anything about tain - our objects by childish recriminations. it. I have weightier matters to think of. If. You must be brought face to face withthis you have any clue to the runaways,-follow it young lady, who has golden gifts ; or, what is speedily. - As for this boy with you, he looks to equivalent, a plantation and negroes." me more like a girl than a boy." Jacob touched his master, and raised his fin- Markthaler, who was watching Martin, saw ger warningly. The sound of approaching an, expression of alarm flit across his face ; steps could be plainly heard. The usurer and while the boy called Marcus sbrauk back out of toe planter looked at each other suspiciously, sight. The usurer, sharper than the planter, had already detected a woman in the garments of the mulatto lad. The simple truth of the CHAPTER XXV. case was, that Martin was taking Ela from the BABEL'S BRAND. plantation in this disguise ; and wishing to see The door was presently opened, and the grave Peter Rust, and thinking there was a possibility face of Martin Broadbent appeared.. He was of finding him at his cabin, opened the door evidently surprised at the sight that met his and entered, as related.. eyes in ,Peter Rust's cabin. Notwithstanding His feelings during the foregoing interview his controlling power over the muscles of ex- may betimagined. Ela, brought into the pres- pression, he could not conceal his astonishment. enee of the man she had so much reason to "I expected not to see thee here, friend Low- dread, was greatly alarmed. She expected that enthal." he said, apologetically. "I have dis- he would instantly discover her-artifice, and at- turbed thee, and I will withdraw." tempt to take her back to the plantation, and "Not so fast," answered the planter. "Where perhaps would be able to do so. When order- are you going ? Or rather, why are you here ?" ed to take off her cap, she doubted not but the "On business of thine," said Martin. "I secret would be revealed ; but her hair was so have been searching for the young woman .call- ingeniously tucked away, that the cheat escaped ed Milrose, whose surname is Dorn." his eyes. "-A late hour to be looking for stray dam- "This is your champion of the whip ?" inter- sels," returned the planter. " Who is that be. posed Markthaler, eyeing the Quaker with curi- hind you?" osity. " Doubtless he had the cutting-up of the Broadbent had remained standing in the open fellow behind you?" - He nodded smilingly to dor, which his large person nearly filled ; but Babel, whose face now assumed a ferocious ex- Lowenthal's watchful eyes saw a figure outside. pression. "A young chattel that goeth with me," an- "Babel," rejoined Lowenthal, carelessly, swered Martin. " owes his ugly marks mostly to me. He was a "Let me look at him," said Lowenthal. savage beast till I tamed him. That-was not " Come in, Marcus," said Broadbent. long ago, however ; I haven't owned him but a A good-looking mulatto-boy entered reluet- year. Though perverse. at first, he seems now antly, with his cap on. as patient and faithful an ox as any among "Pull off your cap!" muttered Lowenthal. them.. And Martin," he added, with a shrug, "I'll have no niggers round me with caps on." " has had scarcely a blow at him.", The boy shrank back, terrified. 6"What are those metallic characters burned "Yea, it is seemly that thou shouldst uncov- int, his arm ?" asked the usurer. or," quoth Martin, with a steady look at the The planter turned to the giant, and seizing youth, who very carefully removed his cap. his large, naked arm, held it toward the light. "I don't remember this nig, Martin," said Each letter. was a fiery wound. Markthaler Lowenthal. formed them into a name and date, which read: "He's from neighboring plantation, and not BABEL. 1860. one of our people," answered the Quaker. "lie Even Martin, as many times as he had seen hath given me sonie information in regard to this terrible writing, advanced a step to look at the fugitives, which may lead to their discovery. it again ; while Ela stood timidly behind him. Stimulated by the hope of reward, he goeth Babel's eyes grew red, as if blood had been, with me. Speak him kindly, for he is a faint- thrown into them; but save a slight accelera- hearted chattel, and hath been spoiled by over- tion of b is respiration, he stood as impassive as much petting by his master. This timorous- a block of wood. ness and inefficiency cometh of that eyil of " This," said Lowenthal, in a cold, hard voice,. Ili which thou hast often heard me complain-of " is a keepsake I gave him. On account of the mixing the blood of man with the subject race. confusion of his tongue and ears, I christened Bleach the negrp to whiteness, and you lose him Babel; and that he might never forget hit him. Every drop of white blood depreciates name, I burned it into his black flesh." MILROSE; OR, TILE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. Martin touched the arm, and looked warning- ly into the giant's eyes, which flamed more than ever ' "It took four men to hold him," added the planter, in the same heartless tone. "But when fairly conquered, he bore the hot irons without flinching; but such a look as he gaVe me was never before seen, I think." Lowenthal cast the great arm contemptuous- ly from him, with . "So much for Babel!" The black stepped slowly back to his place ; he exchanged a glance with Jacob, and set his, teeth hard together. His large lips were as white as Lowenthal's, and quivered nervously. Jacob watched him a moment, and his yellow fiee kindiled with intelligence. A short silence lowed... Markthaler was grave and thoughtful, look- ing wonderingly, now and then, from the plant- to the mute negro. He marveled at the @indness of one, and the self-control of the ether. He saw the fatal error of mistaken con- knee, and.the bitterness of hate, in marked . i startling contrast. Lowenthal, callous as he was, felt the pres- ure of other people's thoughts, and was afraid, h knew not why. Trying to shake off a cling- Lg sense of evil, he said, by-and-by: " Begone, Martin !" But Martin had already left the- cabin ; and with Ela clasping his arm as if it were her last hope, was hurrying though the pine-woods. CHAPTER XXVI. AT REST. Where the pine trees grew thickly, and ran 1p straight into the sky ; where the aged moss hung in meshes from the boughs ; where the laurel grew rank and clustering ; where the wiry viies ran like serpents along the ground, toiling around bushes and sturdy trunks; where irds made their nests undisturbed ; where the footsteps of man never trod ; where solitude md silence, reigned ; where the quietude and repose of Nature gave promise of security, paused Peter Rust, with his weary charge. - They had walked till the sun was higher than he spires of the pine patriarchs ; they had walked till Milrose's feet were faltering-till her limbs trembled, and she was faint with exertion ; hey had walked on and on, where there was no ath, and the foliage grew thicker at every Milrose was glad to .stop. Just ahead, dur- ng this flight, went Little ]Dismal, turning, nowl ndthen, his little, old face over his shoulder to] ok back at Mars'r Peter and the two counter- eit youths. " Here," said Peter Rust, " we will rest." - He pointed, as he spoke, to a conical hut,1 sade of pine rift. This simple structure look-1 a to Milrose a sylvan palace. I am sorry, miss," he continued, " that you're so tired ; but better be tired than in dan- ger. I can walk day after day and not feel it1 but there's a difference atween nien and gals." Laws, yes, Peter! Men have institutions like iron ; but girls, as a general thing, are powerful weak. Miss Milly's got the el'ar grit; though she's mighty apt to git scared at noth- in'. - phe's afeard o' catanmountains and jacko- lamsons, and sich. But I don't give up to them things, anyways," said Angeline, whose tongue weariness had kept under restraint a long time. " You're one the brave ones !" answered Pe- ter, drily. " I obsarved, when Ben Dykes had hold of your mistress, you was full o' courage and spirit." " It wasn't Ben Dykes I's scared at," said An- geline, tossing her head, "- but I's afeard he'd burt Miss Mil'." "Lome along, miss," said Peter, kindly, stooping to enter the hut. " Here's a seat for ye that the Queen of England might sit on 'thout complainin'." He pointed to a .couch of boughs, covered with the skins of animals. Milrose sank upon this luxurious couch with a feeling of exhaustion she had never before ex- perienc d, " This is a relief!" she sighed. " Are we safe here, Mr. Rust ?" 'I think so. Only dogs can find us, least- wise," lie replied, thoughtfully. " Dogs ain't of no 'count," said Angeline, with contempt. "Was brought up 'mong 'em -lived with 'em. Dogs know me well enough." The girl seated herself near her mistress. " Tired most to death, I do believe," she con- tinued. " Do fly round, Peter, and get us something to eat. Don't 'epect we're going' to live on nothin'--do ye ? But you needn't be particular ; a strong cup o' coffee, a tender ven'- son steak, and some nice bread and butter'lldo well enough. Laws ! we don't care what we eat, anyways." " You'll have to content yourself with some'at less nor that," returned Peter, smiling. " I don't keep a hotel here in the turpentine woods ; but sicht as I can get, you shall have, right willin'." Peter very cheerfully kindled a fire, and while lie was bus" improvising a meal, Milrose and Angeline fell aleep. The still-hunter looked at them compassionately. The benevolence of his nature was fully awakened. Milrose, so young and fair, filled him with a soft and tender admiration. She was more like a creation of his ideality than a real flesh-and-blood maiden. Peter Rust hind dreamed of such a being in some of his happier slumbers in the forest ; and now that he had accidentally fallen upon the substance of the nocturnal shadow, he was both pleased and surprised. But Peter had no thought - of loving Milrose otherwise than ho' would love a flower or a beautiful picture. page: 66-67[View Page 66-67] j F ( s It Ef i I f f it (t { ( Zi MILROSE; OR, THE CO'TTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. Seeing her overpowered by sleep, and resting at a time when they were most needed. He calmly after her agitation, he kindly forebore to thought them impracticable and marvelous little disturb her; and leaving Swampsey to feed the feet. fire with sticks, took his beloved double gun, "Where is Peter ?" she added. and, with some hesitation and inward debate, left "Dunno I Gone off," replied Swampsey, in the hut, and disappeared among the laureled his most straight-on style. patriarchs. " Gone off ? When will he be back?" con- Swampsey stood on his hands a little while, tinned Milrose,,disturbed by his reply. then on his head, then poised himself on one toe, "Dunno !" said Swam " M 'r Pete then tried all his joints by various movements, gone off," mpsey. ars er and finding them all right, and that the whirl and " He will surely return," she said, thought- twirl and twist was still in him as good as new, fully. " I must have slept a long time. It is he subsidled into a sitting posture by the fire, near night." with his solemn eyes on the sleepers. The "Mars'r Tom been 'sleep. Fire gone out grave features of Little Dismal were, on that out." occasion, worthy of study. The wonder that Swampsey hopped to his feet, winked and Milrose had produced in his fantastic mind, had blinked at the cold ashes, and added : steadily increased, and it was at that moment "Noffin to eat! Tole me to put on sticks. greater than ever. The tawny beauty of An- Spect Mars'r Pete 'Ill be mad ! Make up dis yers geline had no charm for Swampsey. It was fire, Mars'r Tom." Milrose that fixed his eyes in an unwavering Full of these luminous ideas, Swampsey ran gaze. The yellow tint upon her face, imparted off, and was soon back with his arms full r y the juices of leaves, detracted nothing from sticks, which he threw down beside the dea herloveliness in the sight of the boy. He brands, then pointed to a match-box ona shell studied her reposing featui'es with intense cu- "Rub 'em and they'll burp, Mars'r Tom." riosity. The exquisite beauty of the mouth, Following these quaint directions, Milrose and the miarveloni delicacy of the other fea- assisted Swampsey to light a fire, and was thus tures, put Swampsey to thinking that there was employed when Angeline awoke. a higher rice of beings than his simple experi- "Love o' God, Miss Milly !" she exclaimed ence had made him acquainted with. le arose rubbing her eyes. 'Wthat you doii' ?" Ain' and took a nearer view, then retreated to stare buildin' a fire, be ye, for that lazy toddlepole? from his former position. So, with watching There he stands, with his bands behind him, and wonder, and want of rest, the little fellow as if he never done a hand's stirrin' in his life.' forgot his fire and went to sleep. Swampsey answered not a word ; but discov- The fire burned out, the day waned, and the ing a fair imprint of one of Milrose's feet in th sleepers slept. The black foundling, though soft earth, put one of his own naked little p ed the last to sleep, was the first to wake. He be- als into it, to measure its relative size. Thi gan to stare at Milrose precisely where he left serious business occupied him till the fagot off. When, with a languid sigh, she opened blazed readily, and Angeline had rushed to th her eyes, the first object she saw was Swamp: rescue of her mistress' dignity, of which s sey, magnetizing her with his earnest gaze. He was very tenacious. was sitting by the ashes of the dead fire, with " Laws ! what's he at now? Want's to e his tow shirt drawn tightly over his knees, who's got the largest feet. What queer notion where it was held by two little black hands. for a mere picanisiny ! If he isn't a jackalam Over the angle of his flexed limbs, Swampsey son or a anhotomaton, he's something worse." aimed his two-gun battery. While Angeline was speaking, two men su Milrose was at first bewildered, then startled, denly appeared at the door. One was Lovelace, and finally impressed with a sense of the ludi- the other, the poor white, Hillhouse. crous. She endeavored to meet his glance stead- ily and gravely, but it was impossible. She CHAPTER XXVII. siled. The boy's mouth slowly opened tillhe M I L R OSE AND LO V E L A C E. showed his white teeth ; it was the nearest ap- Taken entirely by surprise, Milrose stood prosah to a laugh that she had seen on his face. amazed and silent. She had believed hersel What .time is it?" asked - Milrosc, laugh- far beyond the reach of Colonel Lovelace, 0 in any other person who might wish her to retur "Mos' dark, Mars'r Tom." to the home she had deserted. Lovelace pan "Marsr Tom !" inwardly repeated Milrose, ed on the threshold of the but ; lie looked a then glancing downward at her figure, remem- Milrose. His gaze, at first, was wandering an bered that she was Tom. uncertain; but directly grew fixed and positive Swampsey's eyes had by this time got down From Milrose's flushing face he glanced at An to her feet-exhaustless themes of speculation. geline. The fugitives were recognized ! Thi Their smallness worried him, lie was afraid torm and features of Milrose were too deeply they wouldn't answer the purpose, but give out graven on his mind to be effectually disguise MILR SE ; OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. 67 or forgotten. He was much perturbed by this " You look mighty faint. Swampsey, drag along discovery. Before him was the lovely girl he that bench." adored, attired in masculine garments, flying Swampsey didn't stir, and Angeline was obhig- from Lowenthal, and influenced by motives ed to place the bench herself. which he could scarcely conjecture. s"Ixcuse me, Miss Dorn," muttered Lovelace, What might he infer from this singular flight, sitting down. "I am quite exhausted with walk- fow would it affect his hopes? .How should lie ing.'s address her? All the generous impulses of his illhouse, during this conversatiop,'stood nature indicated the line of delicacy to be pur- looking and listening, in an uneasy state of sus- sued. pense and surprise. By degrees the truth "I will 'attempt no concealment," he said. dawned upon him, and his wonder gradually 1I know very' well in whose company I find turned to curiosity of the strongest kind,. He myself ; but 1 must inform you that it is more looked at Milrose with a steadfastness that was from accident than from any knowledge of your tireless. Prettiness finds admirers in whatever place of refuge, that I am here." garb it puts on. -He hesitated, and while Milrose was collect- "Peter Rust will return presently," said Mil- ing herself to answer fittingly, he added : rose, shrinking beneath the staring eyes of lill- "I do not question your motives, but they house, "and I doubt not he will giveyou hos. must have been urgent, to impel you to a step pitable treatment. Will your friend be seated, so important." colonel ?" 'I thank you, Colonel Lovelace, for your She pointed at Hillhouse, and laid some stress charitable construction of my conduct," she on the word friend. answered, with frankness. "'I cannot say that "He will take care of himself outside," repli- I am glad to see you under such circumstances,. ed Lovelace, carelessly. yet I appreciate your delicacy." "It war about noon," quoth Hillhouse, comb- "I trust," returned Lovelace, "that you will ing his bristling hair with his fingers, " when think better of this matter, and return -to the the colonel lie come to see me, and sez, ' Hill- plantation." house,' sez he, 'the gel's gone.' 'Want, to "Let us not talk of that, colonel," said Mil- know !' sez I. ' Jes' so,' sez he. ' Gone, hook rose, coldly. "I have acted from reason, not and line, bob and sinker; and I wants you to from impulse. I would sooner pass my life in pilot me through these yer woods as quick as this hut, than go back to the tyranny from never you can.' 'I'm yer man,' sez I; and with which I have escaped." that, we started off. And so we went and went, She expressed herself with much earnestness, 'thout regard to the p'its @' compass. He war " To me," responded Lovelace, "the' whole oncommon narvous, ands give me a dreadful subject is wrapped in profound mystery. You sweat ~ Wal, 'long toward night, we war goin' know," he added, with emotion, "the hopes I 'long, and war not seem' nothin', n r tiinkin' have fed, and the aspirations that have led me nothing , nor 'spectin' nothin', nor keerin' for in." nothin', nor stoppin' for nothin'-'" Lovelaee stopped and grew pale ; for he' " Love o' God !" broke in Angeline. "Nor, thought of -Freerick North. you ain't a comin' to nothing , neither ! Never '' I am scarcely worth pursuit," answered Mil- hearn such a string o' nothin's noways. Reckon rose, in a playful voice. " Give your thoughts now you jest 'mount to nothin', and that's what to some worthier object. Believe me, there are you be. Tell ye what! take your nothin's and many who would not only feel honored by your go out with 'em. Mistress don't care to have preference, but responsive to your emotions. no nonsense anyways" Therefore, Colonel Lovelace, let tis understand "As I war sayin'," resumed Hillhouse, "it each other, and act like beings endowed with war about noon. I had took a little sip o' whis- reason, although girls of my age are not always ky, and war feelin' mighty fine-" credited with that useful commodity. Act like "Retire, and wait for me," interposed the a sensible gentleman, as you are, and forget one colonel, abruptly. who forgets herself, and goes masquerading in Not in the least abashed, iillhouse shuffled male attire." from the hut. Her voice was gentle and kind, and her man- "Allow me," added Lovelace, in an impress- ner not calculated to wound. ive manner, "to ask if your decision is final ? "It is easy to talk, Miss Dorn," said Love-- I would not propose this question here, situated lace, despondingly. "Words cost but little as you now are, were not the times most peril- effort; but, falling from some lips, they strike ous ; and that thecontingencies of war may call deeper than Federal steel. ' While annihilating me away at any hour, to conflict in the chances my hopes, you yet stren then the magic chain of battle. If my long and sweet delusions must that binds me. I fear I know too well the fatal really end, better to know it beyond peradven- obstacle that stands in my way." ture, than toscherish expectations that must die " Set down, Mars'r Colonel," said Angeline. at last." il 1 1 } 1 } ry 1r 1 r 1$ { i t 1 I r t I i t I c rt i )i i i S ;1 Zi !" r 'i 1 - 1 page: 68-69[View Page 68-69] MILROSE ; OR, TIlE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. "#Really and truly, Colonel Lovelace," Mil-J rose answered, with equal seriousness, "I cannot make my lips belie my heart. Destiny has not Written what you Wish. We must follow fate. Bow 'to it' gracefully. Accept my friendship; and if I may not love you, let me ever be able to respect your character, and honor your high and chivalrous nature." She frankly held out her hand. Lovelace took it sadly. "'Lowenthal favored my ambition," he said, in a mournful tone. " You were deceived," answered Milrose, ear- nestly.= "-Had my heart responded to your suit, no one would so bitterly have opposed you as Lowenthal."- "Is this possible ?" exclaimed the colonel. "«You- need not' doubt it. If he played one part with you, with me he acted 'another. He said to me : ' Beware of Lovelace ! His lands and his negroes are swallowed up by creditors. He has nothing but his commission and 'his sword.' There i I have been frank with you. It is-but justice to a man of honor !" The Confederate officer held the little hand an instant in his, then relinquished it, with a sigh. His face was now flushed with resentment. ' " Your voice is truth," he replied, much dis- turbed. " You have opened my eyes ;' I begin to see clearly. He who deceives me once, will * not deceive me again. I have been misled. Look, Milrose !" He pointed to the open door of ,the hut. " The sun' ig going down ; so sink my hopes; but,'like t e-sun, they will not rise again. -The night o my disappointment has come. But I shall not grope, whining'and com- plaining, through the darkness.' I will'bear my life-long regret like a man." " You speak in a manner becoming your dig- mity. ' I trust I shall continue to deserve your good opinion. I left Lowenthal,'because I was not safe there. A sense of danger continually haunted me. That man was the husband of my mother; but in him I feel that I have an enemy of the most malignant character." " For what reason is ie your enemy ?" Love- lace asked. " He is bond by every law of hu- manity-to protect you." " Tell you what, Mars'r Lovelace !" cried An- geline. - "lHe was goin' to shut her up in a construction at the top o' the house. What did' he put Peter Rust up there for, anyways? 'What did they tote up so much lumber, and saws, and hammers, and nails for? Be them kind o' con- traptions wanted in a 'spectable family ?" " All this is inexplicable !" exclaimed the col- onel. "It don't 'pear like myster'ous to me," re- lied Angeline, with decision. " A young lady gat owns two or three 'hundred niggers, and a big plantation, and a fine house, and a good 'eal' o' property, and lots o' di'monds,'and money and things, isn't likely to get through the world I- I without plenty o' trouble, nor without findia' somebody willin' to rob and murder her, and pizen her, and put her to death, and -take her life, and all she owns, arid her niggers and her plantation, money, and di'monds I" Angeline relieved herself of these expressions with high-pressure rapidity, while the Confeder. ate officer listened with increasing wonder. Milrose was terrified by the volubility of her maid. It is a notable fact, that plain people ar apt to speak the plain truth. A porter will tell more truths in an hour than a prince will tell in a day. " My maid," said Milrose, "is in the habit of speaking her mind without consulting my wish- es." P "In this instance, I am glad that it is so," answered the colonel ; "for her simple and straight-forwarA declaration has given me a net insight into your life, and the character of your stepfather. I must believe that I have been a dupe, however humiliating the thought. From this moment, Miss Dorn, count me among your friends." He recalled the evidence of Hillhouse, and; although it revived unpleasant associations, it operated powerfully against Lowenthal. Anger and pride served to elevate his feelings. If he could not be an accepted lover, he could at least be a faithful friend, and the protector of Milrose. His line of conduct was quickly decided upon, and reflected credit on his manhood. He blushed at the recollection of his injustice to Frederick North. Blinded by his unfortunate' passion, and hurried on by a false devotion to the rebel cause, h .had been guilty of an act of oppression which, iad it not been for the singu- lar interference of the usurer, might have gone on to crime. -- As he sat there, with bowed head, lie passed through a great crisis of his life: He felt faint and sick; lie trembled, he gasped ; and--and--. he relinquished Milrose. CHAPTER XXVIIL FREDERICK NORTH DESERTS. Frederick North did not intend to remain long in the, Confederate service. He accepted the gun and knapsack as the least of two evils. He had no particular objection to being a soldier is a cause receiving the sanction of his conscience; but to bear arms against his country was wholly repugnant to his feelings. The pure flame of patriotism burned brightly in his heart;, it could not be extinguished by the lawless rule of, the rebellious leaders. The long-established' order of things might be broken up; civil war might prevail; terrorism might reign ; Union, men might be hunted down like felons, and, persecution appear in its most revolting shapes; but none of these things could shake his alle- -giance to the old flag. In his recent arrest and mock-trial, ie plainly MILROSE ; OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. I i 1 1 i 1 i l E I 1 1 Il 68 discovered the malice of Lowenthal and the jealousy of Lovelace. His personal danger did not cause him so much uneasiness as the -peril that seemed to surround Milrose Dorn. The words she had hurriedly spoken during their short interview on the balcony, had been a fruit- ful source of fear and doubt. His arrest and detention could not have occurred at a time more unlucky for his purposes ; and though he bore his impressment into the rebel ranks with outward calmness, his mind was in a whirl of apprehension and impatience. Inwardly, he abjured the seven-starred rag that floated over him, and held in scorn and contempt the preten- sions of the pseudo Government. Frederick North was sleeping outside the crowded little tent to which he had been assign- ed. It was the second night of his stay at Camp Royal. Wrapped in a dirty gray blanket, .he was dreaming of Milrose, when he was awaken- ed by a gentle pressure upon his arm. Open- 'ng his eyes, he beheld a large negro standing ver him. ie looked at this dark apparition ith a momentary fear. The moon was shining an his sooty face and herculean person. Fred- ick saw ugly scars on his face, that, apparent- y, grew ghastly in the moonlight as he looked tthem.. His lips were notably African, while is eyes showed two white rims beaming ; like wo dull stars. On one of his brawny, naked imslte observed curious indented lines, as if ot irons had been driven into his flesh. The black stood motionless until assured that 1rederie was fully awake, then made signs for iim to arise. The young man threw off his lanket and arose. Babel touched him on the, reast, then touched himself, and pointed tow- rd the pine barrens. " The sentinels ?" whispered Frederick, mak- ng a gesture to the outer limits of the camp. abel put his finger to his mouth and ears; to ive him a knowledge of his feigned infirmities, ad the next instant drew forth a bowie-knife ot much seller than a broadsword. This formidable weapon he kept ingeniously conceal- d under his garments. Frederick was perplexed. He knew not whether to follow or refuse. Escape was para- ount in his thoughts ; but this might be a rap set by his enemies. He could not quite understand Babel. When he touched his mouth ad ears; lie knew not whetlher lie was warning im to silence, or indicating the inability of In e organs. There was no time to lose. The stion was to be decided quickly. Ile looked e black over once more. The white light fall- g on his dark arm revealed the tracery of characters. He read the word " BABEL," and emembere I having heard Milrose mention him. ad he been sent, or had he come of his owq ill? These thoughts passed-rapidly through Fred- rick's mind, and when Babel turned to go, he ' . ' Y " 's j i t ; _ i ', f was ready to follow. Hesoon perceived that he had no inexperienced guide. He evidently knew exactly where to - go. He did not ap- proach the guard in a direct line, busin a cir- cle that swept half way around the camp, and that fell within the line of shadow of an avenue of trees. Frederick's faith in Babel increased at every step ; so did his desire to get elear of the camp. He expected every moment to be challenged by a sentinel ; but nothing of the kind occurred. The giant soon crept-upon one, but he lay stu- pidly drunk upon the ground. Thenegro bent, overhim, unclasped his resistless fingers from his gun, and gave it to Frederick. , They passed on, and were soon beyond the limits of Camp Royal. The black walked faster -and faster ; he strode toward the long margin of forest with great rides. North spoke to him several times,, by way of experiment, but received no notice. He saw Lowenthal's mansion lying pale un- der the moonlight. While looking at it,. ie could think only of Milrose. Her presence had hallowed it. Her idea gave .a silent charm to the dwelling and all connected with it. He thought of Milrose as still there, exposed to that unknown danger of which she had vaguely spok- en. He stopped, without knowing it, aid con- tinued gazing. Babel's hand upon his shoulder, drawing him onward, aroused him from his rev- erie of Milrose. Presently, ie found himself standing before Peter, Rust's hut. A few days before,-he had flattered-himself that he should meet Milrose there ; but now that pleasing hope seemed fir distant ; perhaps it had be" come impossible. He, sighed gloomily, and looked around for Babel ; he was gone. le stood lone before the cabin of the still-hunter. CHAPTER XXIX. T HE LITTLE GUIDE. While Frederick was wondering at the disap- pearance of Babel, lie saw an object coming toward him. He thought it was an animal ; but presently it proved to be a black boy of very small size, who approached him in a novel way, tumbling heels over head, and revolving like an animated wheel. He struck finally at Fred- erick's feet, like an India-rubber ball ; the next instant, his yard of length stood upright, and as quietly and soberly as if he had always *talked the earth like other mortals. Although taken by surprise by this unexpect- ed appearance, the young man now recognized the little creature as a faithful follower of-Peter Rust. "Well, Swampsey, whatdo you want ?" asked Frederick. Little Dismal winked and blinked as fast as lie could, but did not open his mouth. "is Peter in the cabin ?" continued Frederick. Swampsey shook his head solemnly. Every- i « : t i t - 3 ° t t: i . :' i , 1 ;: . - page: 70-71[View Page 70-71] 70 MILROSE ; OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. thing relating toPeer was, to his apprehension,I a matter of the first consequence. "Mars'r Peter's.gone," he replied. "Gone where ?" - "4Come 'long Swvampsey," said the boy. "Mars'r. Peter Leff dat yer." He -nodded his head at the cabin. " Mars'r Peter can't stay in .dat , yer. White folks want Mars'r Peter. Mars't Peter got away from white folks. Keep el'ar on 'em, now." The swamp-foundling kept his blinking eyes steadily on Frederick, and his little face grew marvelously serious. "Has Peter been in trouble ?" " Shut him up, down you. Couldn't git out -Mars'r Peter couldn't. Got a rope for him, and he slid down from dat yer bad place. Spect dey won't cotch him ag'in. - Dat's all 'bout dis yer: Come 'long !" Swampsey gave Frederick but little time to deliberate, 'but started off promptly, and with a celer'lty of movement that. the young man did not care to imitate. There evidently being de- sign in this, he followed his unique guide, con- fident that he would not lead him into danger. Sometimes, Swampsey was so far in advance that he could with difficulty see him ; and in several instances, when he thought he- had en- tirely lost him, he came upon him unexpected- ly, passing the time of waiting in turning sow- ersets and walking on his hands. On one of these oce isiois, he was considerably startled to find the boy confronted by a thriftless-looking man, with two dogs, at his heels, and who was threatening him in a boisterous manner. His elocution went after this fashion. "You're Peter Rust's little nig - be ye? You's dug out o' the:mud-wasn't ye ? Wall, now, I reckon you're a fine speciment of a ape. Can't mind yer own business, I s'pose-,can ye ? Have to meddle with mine, promably ! Had to come up to my shanty to tote off my little drummer and trumpeter., That war not your work, though ; you's put up to't by that am- berlition no-'count, Peter Rust ! He sent ye up you, though the Lord he on'y knows how ye had wit 'nough to git thai, and remember what was said to ye. I made up my mind, then that I'd jest make' a el'ar eend of ye ; and I'm now on the p'int o' doin' it. These yer dogs, I reckon, '11- pull ye to pieces quicker nor they would a possum." . The fellow stopped, made great' eyes at Swampsey, and whistled to his dogs. " Mars'r Peter tripped up yer heels !" answer- ed thelad, winking and bliking rapidly. "You ari't do noflin with Mars'r Peter !" " Here, Jeff! Here-here-here !" cried Ben Dykes. " At him, pup! Take him, Beau I" Bat Beau crouched on the ground, and Jeff alone mustered courage to\ assault Swampsey. He sprang -at the lad's throat, but Swampsey flung himself into the air, and alighted behind the hound, which rushed on madly against s tree. Turning to renew the'attack, he met with no better success ; for Swampsy came don on his back, and putting his black arms round Jeff's neck, choked him till both eyes and tongue protruded, and he bowled with pain ani suffocation. Stung by pain, the hound did it utmost to rid itself of its persecutor, and a bur ry-scurry struggle ensued. Sometimes the dog was uppermost, sometimes the boy, and then was a violent scattering of leaves. " Have done there !" vociferated Ben, alainm ed for the safety of his bound. " Come off that yer pup! Wouldn't kill a innocent dog, wouk ye ?" But Swampsey had no sympathy for an inno cent pup, and kept steadily at his business. " Goddlemity 1" muttered Ben-; "what a spry critter he in ! Should think he's made of eel and wild-cats. Git out there, or l'llc ut you weasand !" Ben drew his bowie-knife from his trowser' leg, where he always carried it, with the poin sheathed in his boot. It was a novel applica tion of a common adjunct of low Southern se ciety ; but Benjsinin Dykes found it exceedia ly convenient and within reach, and when draw out in-a swaggering manner, that piece of ste had an excellent moral effect on the beholden and on various occasions had 'done ore t abash his adversaries than itS actual us Cutting the air with this ugly instrument making a disagreeable, whizzing sound, the doi trainer advanced upon the combatants, inten ing to make a thrust, at the critical moment when there was no dog between Swa'mpsey as the ground-. " Goddlemity !" exclaimed Ben, lugubriously " I'm afeard some'at '11 happen to Jeff. Hoi they do flop over and over ! Beau, you sneak in' pup, why don't you go in and win? It' nothin' but a no 'count nigger, anyway. I'] browse you, my lad, for this ! Let go, nig !,le go, dog !" Dykes poised his knife over the floundering pair, but there was no time that it could de send without endangering the canine, and the tender-hearted owner perspired with concern. At this juncture Frederick- North, who hal been a silent observer of most of this scene, ni longer able to repress his indignation, advance suddenly upon Ben, and with the barrel of hii gun gave him such a sharp rap across the knuck les, that he dropped his knife and daneed ab - like a 'trained bear in a menagerie. He wo also have tickled his ribs with his bayonet, ha he not quickly taken himself away. Havial y erformed this meritorious action, he reached down, seized the hound by the hlape of the neck tore him from Swampsey's grasp and flung hisn at his master with such force that, striking hid across the stomach, he drove the breath front his lungs and knocked him flat upon his back. / 71 MILROSE ; OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. 1 1 c 1 -.y 3 l 7 1 1 i i Swampsey hopped to I is feet as good as new, Ben Dykes, the dog-trainer, ran away t ue a and threw a somersault of delight at the dis- cowardy comfiture of his enemies, then subsided very -- quickly to his characteristic gravity. CHAPTER XXX. " Who are you ?" den'anded Frederick, stern- " Mars'r Peter!" said Swampsey, winking ly, turning upon Ben while he was recovering wider and oftener than usual. his feet. Peter came up rapidly, and somewhat dis- " Who be I, eh ?" hissed Ben, spitefully. turned. He glanced anxiously,,at North, and I'm Ben Dykes ; Ben Dykes of the turpentine the little foundling; then examined the scene woods ; Ben Dykes, the dog-trainer ; Ben of the late conflict between the latter and Ben's Dykes, the nigger-hunter ; Ben Dykes here, and dog. Ben Dykes there !", He leaned on the muzzle of his double-gun, Ben Dykes welled'prodigiously. He inflated and asked : himself with the idea of his own importance. " What's happened to Little Dismal? Been " What's Lowenthal without Ben Dykes ?" he trouble, here, I reckon." went on. " What's the rebellion without Ben " Yes," answered Frederick. " A fellow came Dykes ? You'll be strung up and have your along with a large hound, and maliciously set throat cut, fust thing you dunnot!'. him upon Swampsey." " Why did you set your dog on this child ?" "Stop, some'at !" said Peter. "I think I can asked Frederick, wrathfully. "Had you no 'describe that varmint. Had a mouth that nigh better business for your eurs? When you seek on't took his head off-hadn't he ?" jn quarrel, take one of your years, and not an "I had a very fair view of him, as I came to infant." '." -Swampsey's assistance," replied Frederick," and " Goddlemity ! He a infant !" sneered Ben, I did observe that he had a mouth of uncom- shaking a menacing finger at Swampsey. " He mon width." a infant ! Then I'm a infant, and you're a in- - "Fact is, Mr. North, the kiver of Ben Dykes fant. He's a soupernat'ral and an onnat'ral. mouth is hung on a hinge,,and he's obleeged to Dog-on-me if ever I see such a nig! BTut I'll be awful keerful when he laughs, to prevent the swaller him, sometime. I'll cut him up into top of his head from tipping' backwards. If I had long, thin strips,,when I come aerost him !" sich a mouth as that," continued Peter, smiling Ben glared at Swampsey savagely. Having grimly,, " I'd let it for a milit'r barracks, or a expressed himself in that direction, lie turned institution o' larnin'. He cals himself Ben his 'attention to Frederick. Hea cautiously ap- Dykes ; Ben Dykes of the Terpentine Woods; roached-hin, and read his face and expression Ben Dykes, the dog-trainer ; Ben Dykes, the nig- by the moonlight. . ger-hunter ; Ben Dykes here, and Ben Dykes 1 Happy to know ye, Mr. What's-your-name. there. Well," added Peter, "he's all that,. Glad to meet ye. Hope I shall see ye ag'in. and more. He's a pine-woods politician, and a Cotton is King. Be kind enough to say that thriftless vagabond. He lives in a hut that yer, won't ye ?" - would disgrace a savage ; raises pups and ehil' " I'll say what I please. If you have regard dren-eddicates the pups, but neglects the chip for your safety, you will start immediately for dren ; talks about Southern rights and free in, your shanty, wherever it is. You look to me stitutions, and never combs his hair nor washes like a person who has a hungry wifa and starv- his face ; boasts of the great Confederate re- ing children at home. Take your shark's mouth public with his whisky-drinkin' companions by away." day, and sleeps with his dogs at night. Wanted Frederick advanced and Ben retreated. me to say Cotton is King, Ben did! Wanted " There's my cussed mouth ag'in !" he mut- me, Peter Rust, to say Cotton is King !" tered. "Nobody can keep out o' my mouth.' Peter slowly raised himself from the. muzzle The devil's in my mouth, I b'lieve. If 'twasn't of his gun, drew his six feet two inches of for eatin', I wish I hadn't no mouth." height as straight as the twin barrels, and look- " Here comes Mars'r Peter !" drawled Swamp- ing up calmly at the skies, and lifting his right sey. arm in mild protestation, repeated: Ben glanced'about in alarm, and discovering "Wanted me to say Cotton is King ! Peter Rust approaching, prudently put most of Every part of Peter told how impossible it his body behind a tree. would have been for him to say, "Cotton is " Mars'r Peter! Mars'r Peter !" cried Swamp- King !" sey, exultingly, spinning around on one leg, "They may go on," added Peter, deliberate- and clapping his hands. ly-" they may go on with this here business. Peter Rust had his double-gun. He tapped They may gather armies, and fly their rebel it/significantly on the barrel, and leveling a fin- rags ; they may drive Unionism from the land; ger at Ben Dykes, said : they may bring misery and desolation on the "Skedaddl !" country recently dotted with peaceful and hap- And Ben Dykes of the turpentine woods, py homes ; they may hurl all their strength I i ik fi page: 72-73 (Illustration) [View Page 72-73 (Illustration) ] 12 MILROSE: OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. against the North in fracticidal war ; they may strongly, as it did, with the gray setting. There rejoice in their rebellion, and revel, for a time, was a peculiar delicacy of mouth and feature in blood and pillage ; but all these things shall ,that, was also apparent. There was a severe be as short-lived as a passing dream." symmetryand elegance about the man that di It was seldom that Peter Rust said so much, not alt gether please Frederick, who had a or delivered himself with so much earnestness. marked dislike to anything like dandyism. " Your heart is in this matter, Mr. Rust," ob- Lifting his eyes just above the agnrer's head, served North. they rested on the statuesque proportions of "Right, lad, right I The heart should be in Jacob, whose countenance still wore that un- every matter worthy of pursuit. Cotton's no bending placidity that had characterized him at - king for me, Frederick. If I have any favor- Lowenthpl's. Both master and man were wnar- ites in that-line, it's sweet pertaters and hemp ; vels, in their way. Both had points of resem- i7 and that's what I told Ben." Then to Swamp- blance, yet they were notably unlike. sey : " Did the dog hurt ye, Little Dismal.?"' "We have met before," observed Frederick. " No, Mars'r Peter," answered Swampsey, " I remember," answered Markthaler. with an incipient grin. "Couldn't. git hold of "Iam impressed with the idea," continued the Swampsey, dog couldn't. Rolled over and over young man, with some hesitation, "that you -made the leaves fly !" , were useful to me on that occasion." The black foundling of Alligator Swamp "A pleasant scrap of imagination, I think," winked and blinked in his most effective fash- responded the usurer. "You may recollect ion. that I was at that time deeply immersed in im- - " Come along, Mr. North," said Peter, shoul- portant papers, which left me but small oppor- i/ dering his double gun and moving off.' "You tunity for your business. I do remember, how , didn't stay long in the rebel sarvice, I remark? ever, that your loyalty was questioned ; that trd , Don't much blame ye for secedin' from sich a something was said about putting you to death ;h lot o' tatterdemalions. The further you can but I could not find time to give you more than git from Camp Royal, the better; for the Beau- casual notice." fort Guards '11 be arter ye in force. Nothin' '11 "4nd yet the few words that you uttered-ap- suit Lowenthal better than to see ye hanged as peared to have a determining influence on my a desarter." b ,prejudges."ba "I shall do my best'to spare him that trou- "A mind excited danger is apt to give ble," responded Frederick. meaning to the most common-place things," They had gone but a short distance, when answered Markttialer. " You were accused of North saw two persons just beyond them, who love, as well as treason, if I remember rightly ?" seemed to be awaiting their approach. - The luminous eyes of the usurer were bent " Who are those ?" he asked, stopping.. on the young man with particular intentness, as " None that you need fear." if to search out the secrets of his heart, if he Frederick went on again, and was soon near had such. enough to the parties to recognize the man 1' Something of that nature came up," said t .Markthaler and the mulatto Jacob, both of Fred-rick, coloring. whom had been present at his examination at " The man Hillhouse, in his evidence, men- Lowenthal's. He could not but recall the sin- tioned a lady, a balcony, and a midnight inter- gular deportment of the usurer ; his occasional view. I supposed that a lady, a balcony, and.a interruptions during his mock trial, his quick midnight interview might have something to do consciousness of all that transpired, and the with love." ,strange effect of his eccentric interpositions. A smile curled the pale lips of the usurer. He had more than excited his curiosity; he had Swampsey, with his hands crossed behind him, ,created a deep feeling of surprise, which had looked up gravely at both, and winked and -been but little lessened by the interval that had blinked. .elapsed. It was with peculiar emotions that he Peter caressed his double gun, while the yel- :drew near this person, and was introduced by low Hyperion, Jacob, stood in impassive tran- Peter of the Pines. quillity behind his master. "Mr. Markthaler, Frederick," said Peter, "It appears.that those important papers did briefly. not wholly absorb your attention," said Freder- Both bowed, and looked at each other sharp- ick, embarrassed. ly. "Shall I go on ?" asked Peter, looking at In the white shimmering moonlight, the pale Markthaler. face of the usurer ,looked paler, and his white "Lead to the hut," answered the latter. "We hair whiter. His eyes shone with the brillian- will follow." cy of a woman's through the glasses that par- The still-hunter moved forward moderately, tially obscured them. Frederick was partieu- and the others kept near him without effort. larly struck,.as others had been, with thle freshi- The p~athi was narrow, and the usurer walked be-- .ness and smoothness of the face, cointrasting fore Frederick, talking-as he went. 1 .B I 1I S4 page: 74-75[View Page 74-75] MILROSE; OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER- 75 "I sometimes have a double eon'seiousness," folly. Events of the gravest character are dai- he said, answering the young man's last remark.. ly transpiring, changing the fates of men and " I confess that I felt sufficient interest ia you fortunes. That which you may secure to-day, to make a trifling effort' to save you from the may be forever beyond your reach to-morrow. malice of Lowenthal, and the jealousy of Love- I can tell you things that have happened smee lace. Your secret came'out during that:some- your impressment into the rebel army, that you what extraordinary' tinal. Pardon my frank- little dream of. I am familiar with the affairs ness, for I am, to a considerable extent, interest- of Lowenthal. Our business relations have ed in the affairs of the" cotton-planter. I have been close and of long continuance. I have eertain'elaims on the Lowenthal estate that may absorbed yonder plantation. My coffers have seriously affect thie fortunes of his step-daugh- closed upon a hundred und fifty negroes. I ter, Milrose Dorn." may be said to have swallowed Lowenthal, cot- " It is not the young lady's fortune I seek," re- ton, chattels, and all plied Frederick, tartly. ,"Money probably as- ' And dare you makes boast of your infa- sumes a higher value in-your estimation than in rkous extortions? Should you not rather blush mine, because it is your business to deal in the to confess to your Jewish robberies ?" cried article ; but at my time'of life, there is something North, indignantly. "In defrauding Lowen- infinitely higher' th'n a mere acumulation of thal, you 'defraud Miss Dorn. In impoverish- wealth, and which more nearly affects my 'p- ing one, you beggar the other." piness. I cannot conceive how yourI business ' "'Young man," said Markthaler, coldly; relations with Lowenthal give you any right to " but a moment since you would marry Milrose interfere with the affairs of Miss Dorn, or to in- without a farthing. Now you are wrathful, for- trude your advice upon one who has not asked sooth, because of her poverty. We do not al- it." . always' touch the secret springs of character at Frederick believed that this rebuke would si- first, but- if e feel for them carefully, we are lence the usurer; but fih was rmistaken; he did sure to find them, at last." not seem to mind it in the least. There was no ' The countenance of the money-lender was irritation in his manner; when he continued :' now severe in its expression. His displeasure "1I have more interest in the lady than you -was manifest,. and not to be ignored. think. The truth is not always seen at a glance. North was confused. He had not expected to Life is shaped by invisible threads that we un- be turned upon in this abrupt and novel man- knowingly follow, here and there. Some of ner. these invisible threads unite me, perchance, to " My heat," he said, presently, "arises not the fortunes oftilrose Dorn." from any expectations of being benefited by "You are, in truth, a romantic money-lend- the worldly possessions of the young lady in er !" sneered North. "Milrose would no doubt question, but from a natural detestation of over- be flattered by your invisible threads." reaching cupidity ad usurious knavery. Know, "Would you marry her without fortune ?" once for all, meddling Jew, that I entertain demanded Markthaler, peremptorily, pausing to small hopes of being anything more to Miss mark the effect of the question. Dorn than I now am; but I do, and shall ever "Ay, without 'i farthing!" eirdlaimed Frede- feel, a deep interest in her prosperity and hap- rick. "Perhaps, however," he added, sareasti- piness. Riimor has whisiiered it abroad, I call, "a certain usurer has better claims" to know not with what truth, that yonder estate, that distinction." comprising its chattels, one and all, rightfully " I know of no young lady, at present, whom belonged to her, being inherited from her I would marry," answered Markthaler, smiling, mother deceased. If this be the case, I am at a and looking at Jacob. "Do I know any lady loss to know-in what manner the plantation and Whom I would marry, Jacob ?" he asked., its belongings could be conveyed to you as se- " No, mars'r," replied Jacob, gravely. cuirities for moneys loaned." "Think you I would marry Milrose, Jacob ?" Markthaler had stopped again, and stood con- Jacob shgok his head. fronting North with a gaze so fixed and pene- "I fear your servant puts but too modest an trating, thas the young man involuntarily re- estimate upon your merits !" observed Frede- coiled: rick, with irony. ' .- "Do you hear what he says, Jacob ?" mut- "Possibly," responded Markthaler, dryly. tered 'the money-lender, frowning. "We have S" I must add, also, that you, yourself, display unmasked him, at last !" A measure of self-ahnegation that is quite re- "No, mars'r," interposed Jacob, anxiously. 'freshiing! I wonder that you do not bear off "Do not centradict me, Jacob!l I say we this pretty prize at once." have unmasked him" Frederick frowned,' and glanced contemptu- Markthaler looked angrily at his servant. ously down at the small and'tidy figure of the "I ay we have not!' retorted Jacob, firmly, usurer, yet in a tone of respect. "lHe is honest," he " A 'truce to badinage ! This' is no time for added. " He is true.' lIs angry with the ex- " 1F .I 7 c page: 76-77[View Page 76-77] 76 MILROSE ; OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. tortion and the extortioner, and his grief is not for the lost fortune, but for her who loses it." "You abuse your master's goodness, Jacob," said Markthaler, softened somewhat.' " It is his goodness that makes me speak plainly," answered Jacob, with humility. This scene bewildered Frederick. He stared first at one, then at the other. Inexplicably enough, the 'money-lender was obtaining an as- cendency over him., They walked on slowly, each thoughtful, and Frederick in a maze of doubt. " And so you love her, young man ?" said Markthaler, by-and,-by, turning upon North, suddenly. " Had one asked me that question, entitled to a calm and truthful reply, I should have answer- ed with the frankness of a boy,' 'with all my heart l' Nor would that have expressed the depth and intensity of my 'devotion. She has become a part of my existence. If my soul has an aspiration, it is for Milrose ; if it hasa voice, it continually speaks her name : my, thoughts, my dreams, are of her. But yqu, sir, know nothing of a passion like this. If you have a love, it is the love of' gold ; if you worship, aught, you bow the knee and the spirit to bonds, deeds, securities, and bursting coffers." Frederick made a gesture of infinite contempt toward the usurer. "How well lie reads us, Jacob !" cried the money-lender, with a singular blending of mirth and bitterness. " Think of your hoards, and trouble me no more," added Frederick, moodily. " Think of whom you will, and come along !" retorted Markthaler. And the parties walked on silently. CHAPTER XXXI. AN AWKWARD PREDICAMENT. It was nearly morning when Peter reaebed the hut. The darkness that precedes the dawn lay heavily on the pines. Emerging- from the thick inclosure of trees, Frederick entered the little opening in which the still-hunter had built hms humble habitation. The first thing that met his sight was a cheerful fire blazing ruddily a few yards from the door of the hut. The next object that drew his attention, was a figure wrapt in a military coat, reclining upon some pine foliage near the burning fagots. Upon this recumbent form young North fasten- ed his eyes with great interest. There was something in the quiet outlines of the unknown person that seemed not unfamiliar to him. This silent guardian was either sleeping, or mentally lost in reverie ; for he did not change his atti- tude until Peter Rust was close upon him. He started up, however, in alarm, before Peter was near enough to touch him. Retreating in a be- wildered manner, he drew a pistol from his breast-pocket, exclaiming " Who comes! Who comes!" " Put up your little joker, colonel," answered Peter, " for there's no danger. Must have been sleeping pooty sound not to have heerd us com- In'.', , " I have not been sleeping," said Lovelace, in a hollow voice, his abstracted air still clinging to him. The man's tones made Frederick's heart leap under his Confederate jacket. Lovelace, his judge, and his rival, stood before him. Frederick still wore the rebel jean. His knap- sack he had left at camp, bnt'his cartridge-box, containing several rounds of powder and ball, he had brought away ; while upon his shoulder he carried the musket which Babel had taken from the'sleeping sentinel. There he was face to face with the colonel of the Beaufort Guard-a deserter discovered in the very act of flight. But the circumstances were such that he had no qualms of conscience respecting the desertion, and yet the rencontre was, for various reasons, unpleasant. Peter of the Pines lie could rely upon in any emergency, but of Markthaler and the yellow Jacob he was not so certain. As North's surprise abated, a feeling 'of proud resentment took its place. He recalled the recent arrogance of the man, at a time when he- had him wholly at his mercy ; nor did he forget that to Lovelace he wasin- debted for his unjust and proscriptive degradi- dation to the rebel ranks.. The idea of Milrose went sweeping through his'iiiagination, coloring and intensifying his feelings., The two men stared at each other. To Love- lace it was a moment of bitterness. The sight of Frederick made him terrribly sensible of his own disappointment. To that overpowering grief which the final rejection of Milrose had occasioned, was now added a darker and more, dangerous sentiment. He struggled hard to re- press the sterner and fiercer part of his nature, and to practice that magnanimity which he had )'esolved upon while' in the presence of MissI Dorn. Seeing the young man before him, whom lie was conscious lie had dealt harshly with, all his powers of self-control did not suffice to pre- vent a slight reddening of his cheeks ; it was manhood's instinctive tribute to honor. But something must be said ; a fact of which Lovelace was well aware. "How dare you leave your regiment, sir ?" lie demanded, haughtily. Frederick threw his musket contemptuously to the ground. He advanced deliberately upon the colonel, and folding his arms upon his chest, confronted him with a most natural and digni- fied assumption of pride. Within, he glowed like a furnace ; but he tried to be calm. "It is time to drop this mockery, sir," he said, with tolerable composure. " You may have a regiment, Colonel Lovelace, but I have none. .You are in this rebellion, heart and , soul, but know, sir, that I am for the Union and the old flag ! Talk not to me, sir; of regiments and subordination ; I scorn such contemptible assumptions of authority. ~ Think you I can forget that shallow mockery at Lowenthal's, which you called a trial. You cannot ,make a rebel of -a man by forcing him into a suit of rebel jean, and giving him a musket and a knapsack. Treason must be in the heart, sir !" " Sir! sir !" stammered Lovelace. "You for- get your position ! I order you back, sir !" "Let- this, arrogance cease, sir," answered Frederick, indignantly. "I am your equal by birth and education; and possibly," he added, with a perceptible sneer ; " I may not be below you in fortune." "Do not insult me I" said the colonel, biting his lips. "I- am not in a mood to be trifled with." He laid his hand upon his sword." " I have no sword," resumed North, "ut should be most happy,.when equally armed, to give you every satisfaction in mny power." "I have pistols," replied Lovelace, whose an- ger was getting the better of his discretion ; 'fbut perhaps," he continued with evident con- tempt for his adversary, "you have no predi- lections for lead." " Pistols will do," said Frederick eagerly. " Produce them quickly, and away with words." Marktlialer, who had been an earnest listener, approached. and said to the colonel,-in a low voice : "You are forgetting your rank, sir." North heard the words, and they fired his heart. " If lie takes refuge behind his rank, .he is a coward !" he exclaimed. "Love o' God !" interposed another voice, with such emphasis that Frederiek turned invol- untarily to look for the person who had spoken.' Guided by the fire-light, his gaze rested on the figure of a youth of sixteen or seventeen-years of age, wearing, like himself, the Confederate jean. A species of fascination kept .him from withdrawing his eyes from this mal-apropos intruder. "It 'pears like they're going to cut each' other's throats. We can't have no such earr'in's on, here, anyways! Laws, Peter! why don't you step in and stop that yer 1 So'mebody '11' be swoundin' away, the first thing you dunno !" Frederick's wonder grew to exaggerated di- mensions. Had lie heard that voice before ? A latent consciousness told him he had heard one wondrously like it; but it was associated with one of the other sex ; while here, standing dis- tinctly in his sight, was a dark-skinned, but not uncomely boy. He was trying to make this matter clear to his apprehension, when Peter' Rust advanced briskly, with his double-gun in his hand, and said, with a deprecating sweep 'of his long arm: re 77 " These here are my premises, gentlemen, and I'll have no wrangling' on 'em, I allow ! Live , folks are worth some'at,, but dead ones ain't scarcely of no account whatsomever. Put up your tools, knen, and settle your differences som'ers else." f Swampsey went and stood just beside Peter, and winked and blinked in his most solemn fashion. The contrast between the two was no- table ; but none of the parties found leisure to mark the striking. difference between six feet two and three feea othing. There was a lull in the storm. The principals in the altercation scowled and looked away from each other in a-most unamiable manner. - North' was about to address some apulogeti- cal words to Peter of the Pines, when a new claimant to his attention' appeared, in the shape of another youth very similar to the first, al- though more-delieately formed, more regular in features, and of lighter complexion. Lads of fifteen and sixteen, and near that pe- riod of life, have certain characteristics in corn- mon, and few of them attract particular notice when met casually, either in the street or any other place ; but this youth, as he hesitatingly drew near the parties, instantly and unaccounta- bly became an object of interest to North. The blazing brands reflected a strong light upon his face, the delicacy and beauty of which might well excuse a gaze of wonder.- His figure, too, had equal claims for observation, presenting those rounded lines and symmetrical proportions that give grace and harmony to tie human form. Perplexed, without knowing why ; bewildered, without apparent cause ; interested without any reason he could think of, his incidental glance became a gaze, and his gaze a stare. The youth made a beseeching gesture to Peter Rust, displaying, as he did so, a hand childishly small.- Frederick looked downward, and saw a pair of feet to match the hand. The silent adjuration of the boy had an.im mediate effect on Peter. " The young man' seems to have forgot ten the pistols," saidl Lovelace,, derisively, watching the direction of Frederick's eyes. "Quite the contrary!"'retorted the young man, his anger, which had subsided a little, flashing up again. "I think you will never find an antagonist more willing to meet you than I. Let Mr. Markthaler arrange the pre- liminaries without loss- of time. Any terms that are equal will suit me. Twelve paces, or twenty, or muzzle to breast, are the same to. me." Frederick's de portment was usually distin- guished for its modesty and the absence of every- thing to draw-notice upon himself; but now his air was bold, and his bearing proud and confi. dent. The taunt of Lovelace had stung him, and he was hot to renew the dispute, and end it by an appeal to the deadly duet. r P Vf i k ,3 I S - 5 t 3 I Ii 'ii ''I I MILROSE; OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. page: 78-79[View Page 78-79] X48 MILROSE ; OR, THE COTTON.PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. "Peter Rust! -peter Rust !" cried the youth tween his master and the light of the fire, so who had last appeared, imploringly, that he was mostly screened from observation. " I tell you that this can't go on,", 'remon- " Why is she here, Jacob, and in those gar- strated Peter. "If the nantter must cpme to ments ? There is something that we do not pistols, let the pistols and you be in some other know. 0,Jacob! you have een unf place." .. I have acted according to my knowledge and Peter stepped between the prospective com- ability,", answered Jacob, much depressed by batants. Planting the breach of his double-gun the rebukes of his master. The danger may on the ground be fore him,.,and standing with his have been nearer than I judged." a left hand upon the muzzle, he presented a gri " Yes, much nearer," said Markthaler, who and formidable figure, as heglanced rebukingly trembled like a woman. "The poor girl has from one to the other. -,, been forced to fly from the tyranny of that in- " If you fight, men, it musil be through me! ' famqvs manI Stand behind me, Jacob. I Meantime, the voice of the yputh had done would behold that sweet face once more." more to divert the wrath of Frederick than the "Wait till you are calm," entreated Jacob. stern countenance and remonstrative ,words of "Hazard not all at once. All will be well. Peter. A feeling far stronger than curiosity This duel shall be prevented. Rather look upon_ held every other emotion in. suspense, and sent, this. as a, happy chance, than as a misfortune. the hot blood thrilling through -his veins.. What abetter opportunity can you have for ob- Markthaler, too, seemed similarly affected, for serving her character.?" he could not keep his eyes from the, lad; and "True! true !" murmured the money-lender. Angeline noticed that his color continually went " How beautiful she is!" continued Jacob, and cane. It appeared to Frederiek that he following up his advantage. "Did mortal eyes, saw before him the veritable, face and form of ever see speh a figure ? I wonder not that the, Milrose, and thathe had not heard her voice., young man adores her. She is an angel I" He asked himself how such, a thing could be.,. " Cease ! cense.!" sighed Markthaler. I shall His reason answered, that it was. impossible. be calm presently." But love is sharper than reason; and Freder- All this time, Frederick's eyes were directed ick's heart knew Milrose.' Logic is. a laggard, to the mysterious youth ; and his heart kept and love is lightning, which travels far and fast. crying: Milrose ! Milrose !" " I am content to letthis quarrel rest for the Seeing the danger of an immediate encounter present," sla merged Frederick,.in a confused averted, the eunterfeit drummer, startled at her manner., own,boldness, retreated precipitately to the hut, LQvela e recalled his promise to .Milrose, and into which Frederick 's dazed eyes followed her regretted that he had so soon forgotten it. . - wogderingly. . He had said' that hle would be her friend, true and faithful. Had he acted in conformity with . 'CHAPTER XXXII. this agreement in insulting the man who loved THE -PARTING WORDs OF LovELAcE. her,, and whom he was painfully forced to .bs- Loyela e, having calmed the tumult of his lieve occupied the first place in her affections,? feelings by reflection and second sober thought, She gave him a glance that syfi~ciently 'mapy- conversed A moment with Peter Rust, and then fested her displeasure. ,e dropped jii pistol etered',tlie hut. to.its accustomed popket,,and la pentipg his.inn- The ,1pght had passed,-and the first rays of the etuosity, walked from the spot, with his. head run were;reddening the east. Crimson beams, ar less erect, and haughty than a moment be- like threads of gold, crept through the foliage fore. . - of thetrees, and struggled into Peter's little Markthaler, pale and faint, leaned against a shanty, and fell shimmering and trembling on tree for support., Jacob, who had been watch- the pale face of the maiden. Lovelece went in, iig him ever since lie appearance of Milrose, with depressed head and, hesitating steps. Mil appreaclied him with - the greatest anxiety, and ross, turned upon him with some asperity of said, hurriedy : manner, andssaid : " Be firm, master ! Do not yield to. tids - nou have kept well your promise, sir! weakness. Thus far y9ul have been, strong. This, Colonel Lovelace, is your friendship ." Bear the trial a while longer." . "Be ,not annoyed, fair .Milrose," answered "' Why did y.ynot tell me, Jacob?" faltered Lovglee. "Your lover is safe." Markthaler, much agitated. "I will not forgive:, Tue Confederate officer had intended to be yo v" - :. . ery humble in the presence of Miss Dorn; but "1 knew ,t not," responded .agob, parpestly. her, sharpness. vexed, him, and he could not ",taster, no one toad{,we thatshe was here. forego the opportunity of vexing her in return. And is it not as well ? The longingspof your Milrose blushed. ." 'd- soul will be satisfied with seeing her. Guard "'I can understand you," she said, in a quiet your secret, I leseech you!1" ,voice; "and knowing the disappointment you Jaco anagaed to interpose his person be- have suffered, can hardly blame you for the re- MILROSE.; OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. proach contained in your last remark. By my lover, you, doubtless mean Frederick North. Knowing the dancer to which he has been ex- posed, I can readily accept your assurances of his safety." Milrose looked up, and smiled. The colonel moved uneasily, and bit his lips. -I " A fair retort, Miss Dorn," he replied. " And given without malice, believe me," re- turned Milrose. " Have you not done this young man injustice ?" she asked. the colonel's eyes fell before her steady look. " I ordered him back to his regiment," said Lovelace. "But I came not to speak of this ; I came to take leave of you." " I can believe, sir, that it is not a subject you like to dwell upon. It is seldom agreeable to recall a wrong we hive done to another. I have heard the details of that mock-trial, conducted by yourself and Lowventhal. Some other feeling than loyalty governed your actions. Sir, I am not a lawyer ; but a simple sense of justice teaches me that your duties had nothing to do with Frederiek North, and that the whole thing was an unwarrantable stretch of power, discred- itable to you and tjhe other party concerned. You forced him into the ranks of your regi- ment. Wishing to degrade, you certainly ex- hibited great'discrimination in your sentence ; f r if there is anything degrading to. an honora- bier nan, it is, to be thrust into the soety of that ignorant, iuternperate, and ragged crew, called tijeeaufort Guards. Colonel, I believe not in t is rebellion ; anc had Frederick 'orth 'es- poused the unrighteous cause,"and conspired a ains the lawful Government at Wpshington, no word of friendship, no look of enequrage- mieat, no smile of approbation, wouldhe have received from me.", .Iilrose spoke with enthusiasm, her warmth, increasing as she went on. H"ier face was glof- ijig when she ceased, andthe golden iht fall- ing upon it through the crevices of the hnt, riade it look inspired and beautiful. "The high and noble qualities of her soul were spoitane- ously drawn forth. She looked, indeed, a fair prophetess. Lovelace sighed. - That sigh came from his. heart; his heart so empty, so hopeless, so dis- pairing. " I have never read in histry " reaunled Mil- t-ose, "that a traitor could be trusted! Treason ij the plaguesspot of'honor, the blight of truth, ;nc the parting knell of virtuoiis a ambition ' The colonel's chin sank ,ower and lower upon his 'chest. ' upo Hfle looked vacantly at the inspired Python- ts, He gasped for breath. His poor logic, his, bad reasons, his fatal sophistries, received un- expected and staggering blows. ""If rederick is loyal," added Milrose, " my tegrt will rejoice in his loyality." "Loyal to what ?" asked Lovelace. 79 " To liberty and the Union." " Then it is as I believed," said Lovelace. "He is a secret enemy of the Confederate Re- public. In making this avowal, Miss Dorn, you place your lover in a dangerous position. Do not forget to whom you are speaking." " I am speaking to a rebel officer, responded Milrose. The colonel's face flushed in a moment. " I would thank you, Milrose,".he returned, curtly, " to bestow on me a name less offensive. We are Revolutionists, not rebels." " A distinction, sir, which the world will' not' make. History will record a different verdict." "I care not," resumed Lovelace, after a pause, " what history calls it. Posterity is for others, and not for me. In loving you, I lose fame, name, heart, and ambition." Emotion choked his utterance. .4 few mo- ments passed before he was able to proceed. Milrose was too much affected by his mournful tone to interrupt him.. "-The motive-power of life is gone. The hopes, the expectations, the aspirations of ex- istence have departed. I care not what wind drives me out to sea. I shall float aimlessly on the tide. Often and often my thoughts will re- vert to thee. Thou art the pole-star, the lode- b ne of my soul ; it turns to thee like the nee- dle to the north." ie' stopped again, but quickly added : "Enough ! This is painful to you and to me. I shall ,trouble you no more. Duty will soon call md 'away. I shall go hence to meet the.foe. But not the red glare of battle -not the thun- derous peal of cannon -not'the deadly hailof musketry, nor the bristling of bayonets, nor the shock of charging squadrons, shall turn my fe iohts, from thee, nor pale my face with fear. " Go, sir, I entreat of you !" exclaimed Mik rose. "You grieve me beyond measure." " It is the' last time, Milrose. Have pa- tienee." Hi, tones were sadder than his face. " Rear- my confession. I will not be an utter traitor to honor. Let Frederick North keep out of my wey. I hate temptation. God knows what'I might do-t do not. The man that ex- cites your love, excites an opposite emotion in me. You have bestowed upon him life and hope : but I-Heaven pardon me !-would re- verse these gifts. If yon would save me from being a villain, send him from the country at one. .Let himn fly, and look not behind 'him. What is he bit a robber and an assassin ? He has robbed me of your love ; he has stabbed my h happiness " h, He hesitated, breathed hard, and added : "While in your presence. my better nature struggles for utterance ; when I am gone, the darker devil will, perchance, awake and exert his baleful power. .Be warned in time. aI feel -I ik { is ; 4 'si ¢ ' - .S t; _ i" ,1 ' t i . t . ,S , a page: 80-81[View Page 80-81] 80 MILROSE, OR, TIlE COTTON-PLANTEl'S DAUGHTER.. within me a spark of latent hate, which may be fanned to a flame by the' time I reach camp. Hide him ; hurry him hence; screen hinm from the reflex tide of my jealousy. There ! I have done my duty. If this Frederick North, if this abolition traitor, this secret enemy of the Con- federacy, meet with a tragical fate, remember that you were advised of it beforehand. And now, Milrose, I go. Should we meet again on earth, may it be to be happier, or to find the glowing passions of our hearts burned out and dead. Better to be a clod, than to love in vain. Better be insensible to the softer touches of na- ture, than to feel a passion we cannot ourselves inspire." Bowing low to Milrose, Colonel Lovelace passed from the hut with slow steps and heavy heart, leaving Milrose in a'whirl of unpleasant thoughts. Without speaking a word to any one, the Confederate officer went silently and sor- rowfully from Peter's retreat, and it was soie- time before it was known to the parties without that he had gone. CHAPTER XXXIIL PETER SPEAKS HIS MIND ABOUT MILROSE. Frederick saw the Confederate officer enter' the hut with 'feelings of jealousy and alarm.' Why did he follow Milrose? What relation did they at that timesustain to each other?' Why was Milrose there? He reflected. A most painful thought crept insidiously into his brain. The girl had per- haps forgotten her sweet assuranes, and-fled with Lovelace in the disguise in which he had found her. He asked himself if that was not a natural inference growing'out of the situation. The probabilities, it struck him, were strong in favor of this' view of the ease. He tortured himself with that possibility. His dislike of Lovelace increased. His protracted stay inthe hut terrified him ; it.confirmed his worst fears. What right had he there ? Why was notAnge-, line with her mistress? Why did she sit sleep- ily' at the door, while Lovelace was admitted to the very sanctuary of innocence? He per- suaded himself that there was more in this 'at' taehment of his rival than he had hitherto un- derstood.' He seated himself on the couch of boughs recently occupied by Lovelace, with-feelings of distraction and bewilderment that rendered him miserable. Peter was busy for a time with Markthaler and Jacob. He saw those persons conversing' apart, but engrossed in his own doubts and fears, gave them but little notice. Presently Peter came to him, and observing his depression of spirits, said, in 'a kindly tone': " Cheer ii lad ! Nothin'- is so had as it seems at fi-' Gals is an uncertain thing ; but they are easy managed arter you get the run on 'em." "I am afraid," answered North, desponding' ly, "that I have never been so fortunate as to get the run of them to use your own wor s." " There's some," added Peter, shaking his head in, perfect-conviction of the truth of what he was saying, " that can't be-trusted." Peter glanced mildly at the newly-risen sun, then adde d, with a benevolent expression : " Then'ag'in, there's them that can." " Explain all this," cried Frederick, no lons, ger able to control his suspense. "Why is she here ? Answer me without delay." " Go and ask her," answered Peter. "If you want to know some'at of a woman, go to that wdman and ask her." " I thought you might save me that trouble," said Frederick, moodily. " But I won't," returned Peter, bluntly. "What she wants ye to know, she'll tell ye ; and what she 'don't want ye to know, that 1 know, I sha'n't say nothin' about. I don't be=. tray none sich as her. She's too good and too pretty not to have her own way about every- thing." " I thought she was an, angel not long since,"' said North, cynically. " Well, what do you think ofbher, now ?" ask. ed Peter, gruffly. "Answer that yourself, Peter. I find her in the pine barrens, in male attire, attended by Colonel Lovelace, an old admirer. In their good company there is but -one person, and that person 'a mulatto girl, a slave, and in the same anomalous guise. Think of the time, the, place, the hour-; then put all these together, and speak hopefully to me, if you can." " Be careful what you say, young man," an- swered Peter of the Pines, sharply. "If another had said what you have been sayin', some'at. would have happened to him afore he'd got through with it. I remimber well enough where I first see her ; how onexpected she came , what a sudden wonder came over me ; bow my blood thrilled, and my thoughts went and came doubt- in'ly ;' how-'white she was, and what brightness' beamed from her droopin' eyes! Do you think I shall forget it ? Do you s'pose the image will. ever pass away? No I see her now, standin' ahind Babel, her long robes sweepin' the floor, her slight form tremblin' on the threshold." The still-hunter pressed his brown right hand- upon his heart, and sighed so softly that the sound was like the murmuring of the pine' leaves. Frederick,'partialIy raised himself, and. looked at Peter Rust wit new interest. 'He- could not yet understand the dweller among the pines. His allusions to Milrose were utterly in. explicable. " I was at the cotton-planter's house," resum- ed Peter. "I had been sawin', and hammerin', and workin', for some'at as I didn't understand. The great dumb nigger set at the door, with his MILROSE; OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER 81 broad face dropped on his broader chest, his mud, 'zactly where he took him from, tow shirt blunderbuss layin' aerost his lap, and the great and all! Ifis sick, and was going' to die, and white rims of his eyes ectipsed by the slum- wasn't expected to live, and the doctors had brous lids. I looked up, and there was a sight give me up, and I was takip' physic, and for ye !-a white angel hoverin' over a black 'spected every minit would be the next, Td say devil! I thought the sight would melt away atween the breathin' spells, that it isn't nat'ral into air ; but it lingered, and it was Mitrose for a nigger to walk on his head!*' Dorn. When my breath had come back, and Angeline held up her hands like two large the blood had stopped stingin' the eends o' my exclamatiion-points fingers, I knew there was some'at wrong, and " If I didn't own but one yard of nigger, and she was going' to be shet up in that prison.' that one yard a nigger swiveled about in this "I knew not that you had seen her !" ex- 'ere way, I'd swap him off for one of Ben Dykes' claimed Frederick. " 'this is very strange ; but bull-terriers, and I'd 'throw the terrier into a touches not the question.".. well. Or, if I didn't do that, I'd stick a pin " There's.times," continued Peter, reflective- through him, as they, do through bugs that ly, " when we see a person's character in a they keep for specimints of cur'osity." minute ; when we know 'em root and branch ; " He's an institution," said Peter, who had when d 'ubt yields to certainty. Well, that was advanced, and now stood near enough to hear one o' them times, and I'll stake my life upon Augeline's views. her truth and goodness !" "Don't call such a contraption as that an in- " Did you converse with her," asked Freder- stitution, do ye ? A institution is more'n a yard ick, completely absorbed in Peter's story. - long, any ways." " Which ?" queried Peter, abruptly. Swampsey, 'hearing his name mentioned, " Did you talk with her ?" came and looked very seriously at Angeline, " Yes, I talked with her ; but I didn't say and was seized with a violent winking and blink- anythin'," answered Peter, gravely. .ing. " Explain." "Go way, you todlepole !" said Angeline, "I wrote questions in large letters on the disdainfully. " Skedaddle, you tow-shirted swiv- stuff I was at work on. She read 'em, and an- eler I" swered by signs., That's the way it Was." ' This powerful appeal was accompanied by a "I am mystified," muttered North, shaking gesture of good-natured contempt, the meaning his head dubiously. of which fell hurtless on the mute little head of "If you love her," quoth Peter, bluntly, Swampsey. "go and tell her on't. But in course you love her! Everybody does that gits a sight at her! !QHAPTER XXXIV. Even Swampsey is enamored and does nothin' LOVE IN THE PINES. but roll his solemn eyes at, ier whenever lie's Frederick stopped near the door of the but, near her. Go and tell her, I say !" doubting whether to go in, not knowing but Peter, Rust pushed Frederick toward the Lovelace was yet with Melrose. Angeline was but. at hand 'to resolve his doubts.. He asked her-if "I have told her," said Frederick,.doggedly. her mistress was alone. , For a moment the girl "Go and tell her ag'in," persisted Peter, "'If was in a quandary. She knew not what charac- she loves ye, you can't repeat it too often-; if ter to sustain. One glance at her jacket of she don't, the least said the soonest mended." rebel jean settled the matter in her own mind. Swarlipsey had stood by, a grave and earnest She laudably determined to sustain the credit of listener. Judging from his, dreamy nsensibili- the trumn peter whose garments she wore. ty, no one would have thought that there was, - "Love o' God, young man !" she exclaimed. any whirl, and twirl, and somerset in him ; but " What ye talkin' about? Ain't got -no mis- when Frederiek started for the hut, his heels tress, anytyays. I'm a honest trumpeter. , , went up and his head went downand all the la- don't want to hear no dissimulations about' my tent action in his little body became marvel-' character. Go 'way, you expicious, evil-minded ously active. He trundled like a hoop ; he valentine !" tumbled like a harlequin ; lie rotated, revolved Angeline jerked her cap smartly over her and circuinvolved ; stood on his head, on one eyes. and assumed more dignity than her size hand, on two hands ; on one leg, on two legs, seemed to warrant. and on nothing at all. "What is your name ?" Frederick asked, wil- "Tell ye what !" cried Angeline, in a warn- ling to favor the deception somewhat. ing voice, yawning off her morning slumbers ; "Dick, sir ! Dick, of course !" replied Ange- "never see sich ear'in's on since I come to the line, curtly. -years of discription ! 'Peers like that little " A short name !" Frederick observed. Jaokalam pson is cl'ar done gone, and lost his "I'm a short! boy," returned Angeline. senses. If Is Peter Rust, I'd tote him back to "Quite !" said Frederick, dryly. "And your Alligator'Swamp, and stick him down into the friend's name ?" I page: 82-83[View Page 82-83] MILROSE; OR, THE COTTON PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. He pointed to the hut. " Tom-Tom, the drummer, sir. Another short boy, with a short name, sir." -A ngeline spoke' briskly,'and with notable pre- cieidn. "I suppose that these short names are attach- ed to something else !"' remarked Frederick,-in- terrogatively. "'Pears like you are mistaken," retorted Ai- geline, with spirit. " They -ain't tacked on to nhthin', noways. Tell ye 'What, a lung' name dofa't'mount tenothin' in these yer times. Any more questions to ask, sir ?" "'Yes. Is Colonhi'Lovelaed Within ?" 'Went away ten minutes ago. If you are goin' in, mind and be Civil, for there is them hereabouts that is right smart with pistils and sich.", Without waiting to hear more, Frederick North passed Into the but, arid stood in the pres- enee of Milrose Dorn. She arose as he entered. The sun was now above the vrge of the ho- rizon. -Its quivering beams' lay horizontally along the tops of the treed, earr-ying light and heat to-the depths'of the forest. {-Tire rift'-wood hut was illuminated with soft, fluctuating rays, which floated in fitidliirVos 'oi'er the maiden's fade. - Having movedd he- cap, her longg hair had fallen over her shoulders in masses of wavy "riablets. 11er white neck Contrasted Strangely with this bath of= dark tresses. Frederick be- hdld before him the- realization' of"that ideal face that had haunted him from childhood, fill-- ing his soul with vague. dreams of happiness. He longed to worship his ideal in'the real. He, wished to approach her, apd saty: ' Thine, thire odly ! 'Foi' thee I live " Just then ceine Wthe'thouglit of her flight and of Lovelace. He' li read in books that imaid- ens having the faces of angels hd' bieeb false. 'Ile had heard, again'and again, that beadmty is a snares and that the fair seeming covers the de- deeptive doing. He had come to bring' Milrose to a Strict Aeconnt for "her conduct, and lie weuld do it and riot be heated dut of his firm- Less by the inoomgarahle loveliness of her face. " "I once knew girl called Milrose," he be- -ga. "This girl Milrose was fair.' Her.beauty, to ne, was 'like the 'beauty of angels, and her puitrity of soutl'like the whitehess of lilies." Milrose smiled faintly,.and supported herself against the wall of the hut. "The girl Milrose," 'Continued Frederick, ".was the perfected type"of toy*youthful imagi- nation. She filled my conception' df graceful 'womanhood."'I 1 " Cut short your peroration," inirmured Mil- Oje,-withpitnpatient-gesture. ' Phis is t'do sub- limated. Come to the point, Frederick." " Oh! you are going to be retical !" said' Frederick, coloring and quite disconcerted. '.Dreadfully practical," shimmered Milrose, in doubt whether to laugh or to cry. "Go on, Frederick,"'she faltered. "You com- meneed exceedingly fine. What, have you to say of this girl, Milrose ?" :"' I have much to-say," answered Frederick, seriously. " But I am met' with levity on the very threshold of my subject." '" You'conme astny accuser, I perceive. You didn't use to 'come-to me as an accuser, Fred- eclick." -1er voice was sweet and subdued. It touched Frederick ; bt he was resolved to be firm. "I was going to tell you,'when you interrupt- ed me, what passed between her and myself.". "I know all that. The girl was very weak, and believed .you. Now for the accusation?" said Milrose, gaining courage. "'You force rthe bluntly to the point. IfI am rash, blame your own Imperativeness." '"Frederiek glanced at' the exquisite fade, on which the morning sun was quivering, ai~d his courage nearly tailed. " Miss Dorn," he began, then stopped, blush- ing and Confused. "Miss Dorn," repeated Milrose, in a very gen- tle tone.' ".Proceed,,my friend. Miss Dorn is' good to begin'with, but it don't convey a very intelligible idea." .l Frederick didn't trust himself to look up again, but said, .with a kind of desperation: "I cane to seek sothe explanation of ydur recent conduct. I didn't 'mean to'say conduct, exactly, but flight ; and not exactly flight, ef.- tirely, b t-but Lovelace." " Why, Frederick ! what a mixture you make of it," observed Milrose, who, being a very' Sen- slble girl, determined to keep back tears And Tainting to the very last 'minute. She believed that sensible words were'bette' than, a few erfs- tal drops from the dyes, and ,that a- firm.and graceful deportment went further than a down- right faint. " For Heaven's sake, 'Milrose, think of the circumstances ! I found you here, and your old persecutor and admirer keeping faithful watch odeyour person. Forgive me, Milhose ; but, taken in connection with my detention at the rebel camp, 'the known wishes of Lovelace; and your own singular flight, I confess that my faith in you was most cruelly shaken," Frederick looked pp, gasping and trembling with excitement. He met the "'calm eyes of Milrose.' "I suspected," she answered, with emotion, "that it was this that brought you here with a 'face so dsrk and troubled, and manners se cold and severe. Frederic"-her voice grew a little firmer-" I-must not be doubted.' The man who loves me1'-she averted her eyes, and Ther white forehead Crimsoned--" must love nie With such faith and confidence that my truth cannot be dimmed' by the black shadow of suspicion. I have not decided whether 1 shall forgive you. 'I rather think I will not. There are different MILROSE; OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. 83 kinds of doubts, Frederick ; yours was little less that light means happiness, and that this 'morn. than an insult.. Had -you hastened to me with ing hour flings countless treasures at our feet; kindness in your manner, and friendly earnest- But life is changeful, Frederick, and the chances ness in your eyes, and asked, ' Milrose, what has and changes of time destroy a thousand pleas, happened?' I would have answered you as glad- ing illusions. Bow not too submissively to th1 ly and as truthfully as you could have desired. ideal; it is a treacherous divinity, that ofttimes But now I must punish you. Do not expect disappoints the hope of the devotee, and lead we to be forgiving." him a weary pilgrimage, to be retraced with . Casting his doubts to the winds, and no long- bitterness and tears. itis sweet to be flatter- er able to repress his idolatry for the young girl, ed ; there is delight in the faith of, another he sprang across the hut and knelt at the feet of mind ; but I tremble at the thought of being Milrose. placed too high in the glittering palace your "You speak like an angel, Milrose ! But a imagination has created. Give me your hand, man in love cannot always be reasonable. I'll Frederick." doubt no more. Explain nothing. , But do She stretched out her hand with unaffected not frown on me thus. Turn' not from me grace and simplicity. those dear eyes. Excuse the madness of a mo- "There," she added, smiling, "I restore you meant. Everything conspired to blind me. The again to my favor. . Doubt me, and you lose insolence of Lovelace ; his interview with you ; me. No great loss, perhaps, and yet you would my infinite wonder at finding you here : all not care ,o lose me. Be very, very sensible. these misled me." Do not make an angel of me. Make an angel Frederick seized her hand, which she made a of me, and I shall fall to pieces of my own in- feint ot' withdrawing. perfections. Frederick, my dazzling poet, try "Arise, Frederick !" she said, smiling. "Do to see in me something very human, but very not make love to me while I am in this ridieu- true, and very earnest." lous attire. Why, it is nonsense, Frederick !" " Something very true and very earnest," re- A lover, properly defined, is one who is sub- peated Frederick. ject to every wind of passion ; one who reacts They looked into each others' eyes, and were from one extreme to-another the most opposite silent. Frederick thought for the moment that and distant, without appearing to be conscious. his ideal world had become-real, and that Mil- that he is in any manner inconsistent. rose and himself were to inhabit it. "To. me you are thesame 1" he exclaimed. A footstep startled them. Raising their eyes, "No disguise can conceal from me those graces they beheld Markthaler standing-like a shadow of character and those beauties of person that at the door. excite my love and adoration. To me you are Milrose, now and forever. One beaming look CHAPTER XXXV. from those bright eyes chases away every cloud WILL YOU TAKE HER WITHOUT FORTUNEY of uncertainty from my soul. The soft melody Upon seeing these two persons standing, hand of thy voice, speaking, as it ever does, kindly in hand, Markthaler did not retire, but slowly and sensibly, charms away every fear, and in- approached them. Frederick was annoyed ; spires within' me hope and. courage. In the indeed, a much stronger expression would no night-time ; in the morning, when the golden more than do justice to her feelings. But there sun dries the dew from the nodding grass ; at was something in the manner of the money- ioon, when his meridian rays stream fervidly lender that prevented Frederick from treating upon the sweltering earth ; at all times, whither him wth rudeness. In fact, that person had light or darkness prevails, my heart has but one been to him, from the time of their first ineet. watchword, and one rallying cry, and that is, lag, an increasing mystery. The youthful face, 'Milrose ! Milrose !' I am never weary of hear- the feminine eyes, the white hair and beard, ing it. It never falls tamely upon my ear." had played a prominent part in his dreams ever " Do not turn my head, Frederick," answered since the examination at Lowenthal's. Mark. Milrose, softly. "Thou art a poet. Poets are thaler had crept into his consciousness, and he dangerous." , , could not cast him out. The conversation of "Love makes poets of us all," responded the night just passed, had added, in a marked .Frederick, with enthusiasm.- " I were a dull degree, to his previous impression. Nothing clod not to feel the influence of Milrose ; I were was niore natural than that his allusions to Mil- ~unworthy of her favor, not to be inspired by rose and her fortune should, at that moment, be ber smiles; I were a cold worshiper to allow remembered. What the usurer had stated con- another to kneel at the consecrated shrine. eerning her property, had not only vexed, but Spealt to me ; speak to me, Mihrose." pained him ; for his love was of so unselfish a " What shall I say, Frederick? There is lit- character, that her welfare' and worldly pros- tle that maiden may say. Look upward, Fred- perity were things of paramount importi.nee ia erick. See the scattered fragments of life falling his mind. As Markthaler stood looking at upon us like threads of gold. Let us believe them, Frederick thought of bonds, mortgages, uI page: 84-85[View Page 84-85] MILROSE; OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. and securities. That he had penetrated the dis- not irritated by the boldness of Markthaler. guise of Milrose, he did not doubt ; his deport- On most occasions, she was not wanting in meant sufficiently evinced that knowledge. spirit ; but here was a person with whose liber- " You seem to be looking at us, sir ?" said ties she could not feel indignant. Frederick, with a slight movement of contempt. " Because I believed that safety and even life "Has your business anything to do with bonds, required it. Reasons ht most urgent made me mortgages, and collaterals ?" fly from Lowenthal," she answered. " It has much to do with what you cannot at " Life in danger ! Reflect, young. lady ; it is present understand," answered the money-lend- a grave charge. - Cruel step-fathers do not gen- er, calmly, erally devour their pretty step-daughters. Be- "Nothing can be more correct," said North, think you, Miss Dorn; call in your sober judg- coldly.r ment. Was it not a softer impulse that drew "I may have interests that underlie all you from the paternal roof at night ? Was yours," resumed Markthaler, in a clear and there not an expectation of meeting this young placable voice. man at some designated place ?" While speaking, he took off his green glasses The money-lender's voice quavered, some' and put them in his pocket.. This made quite what, as he proceeded. It was evident that the a change in the expression of his face; the dark motive that prompted him to these queries was and brilliant eyes being more fully revealed, and strong. the heavy arched brows over them adding to "I. assert, most clearly and emphatically," their effect. replied Milrose, hastily, "that I had no such Milrose felt neither anger nor annoyance. The expectation. ' Your question, sir, is not flatter- usurei''s presence excited more wonder than ing either to my judgment or my delicacy. I trepidation.' hope, sir, you are satisfied." " If bonds and mortgages," sneered Freder- "He will not be satisfied," interposed Freder- ick, "lie deeper than the dearest sentiment of tak, " till he has taken possession of your resi- the soul, then your interests may underlie mine. deuce and . plantation. His business relations Your interests and mine are quite different." have been such with your guardian, that you " Very probably," said Markthaler, dryl are likely to be defrauded of the fortune which, " But, possibly, there may be other interest I am informed, was left you by your deceased than those that accumulate on moneys lent." mother." He now fixed his regards on Milrose. Instead of flashing up at this insinuation, the "Do you flatter yourself, young woman," he money-changer received it with the utmost com- said, in a calm and even tone that was notlwith- posure. He simply said : out a touch of severity, "that you could dis- " Very true, young man." guise a face and form like that by the simple Milrose trembled, and clung to Frederick's putting on of male attire ? Everything betrays arm. you. tour face, your eyes, your hair, your "It is well to know, Mr. North," continued white skin, your hands, your feet, the rounded the money-lender, " whether you are in earnest. lines of your person ; and, above all, your timid If you take the young lady at your side, who and hesitating manner betrays you." certainly seems to have some faith in you, you "1I feared as much at the outset,,'' replied will take her without fortune." Milrose, not in the least offended. " Had you The deportment of Markthaler was inexplica- found me here through some impulse of girlish bly impressive. It was hard to tell where his: folly, I should have reason to hide myself from dignity came from, or whence he derived his au- sight ; but the motive being good, and the at- thority ; but both were apparent. The exqui- tempt laudable, I think I should be held blame- sitely feminine face of Milrose was whiter than less by all chivalrous gentlemen." snow. Her soft eyes were dilated with wonder Milrose spoke very becomingly, but blushed and a sort of vague, undefined terror. in defiance of her wishes and her graceful self- " With or without fortune, Milrose is all the control. same to me," answered Frederick, with glowing "Most sensibly spoken," said Frederick, en- enthusiasm. " She is one whose gifts elevate couragingly. her far above the fluctuations of fortune. She The bright eyes of the usurer were averted ' is inestimable in herself To me, though rob- an instant ; he raised them presently, and ask- bed of her worldly wealth, she will come freight- ed : ed with treasures of the soul, far above corupu- "Permit me -to inquire, Miss Dorn, why you nation, should she bestow upon me that hand have left your step-father and guardian in'this which I would die to obtain." singular manner ?" " Don't overrate me, Frederick, for this man Frederick was about to give a hasty reply to is a magician ; he will tear away every flimsy this question, but Milrose prevented him by flattery, and show me as I am. I am afraid of placing her hand upon his lips. A strange feel- him, yet he fascinates me. Go, sir ! Leave ing was upon her. Strangely enough, she was me !" 84 F "Be quiet, Milrose," said Frederick, who also 'It is impossible to describe the elocutionary felt the power of the usurer. "You are agitat- power which Angeline threw into this long and id. x The unaccountable pertinacity of this man impressive declaration. Frederick stared at her terrifies you." in silent admiration. He had seldom or never "Fear me not," answered Markthaler, quickly. been out in such a shower of words. The inev- "There are others more dangerous than the itable Swampsey, who lad, by some strange ho- money-lender. By and by, Mr. North, I wish cue-pocus, arisen from the ground in their imi- to see you alone. If you have courage and dis- mediate vicinity, opened his eyes wider at An- eretion, I may put you in the way of something geline than they had ever been known to be which may prove greatly to your advantage. opened before. He tried to grin; but, solemni- Do not answer me, for I know you will come-to ty got the better of him, and the incipient form- me. When you have soothed and comi'orted ation was lost in a wondering dilation of the this damsel-errant, I shall expect you among mouth. North bit his lips, but could not en- the pine patriarchs." tirely control his sense of the ludicrous. He looked at Milrose, and passed from the "No wonder you laugh, Master North," add- liut; but his silvery voice still lingered upon ed the girl, looking contemptuously at the the ears of Frederick and the young girl. foundling. "But he ain't of no 'count, any- CHAPTER . ways. Found in the swamp-he was. 'Spec CHAPTER XXXVL ye can pick sich out of the mud anywhara THE DISPATCHES. Ain't worth picking' up, though. Wouldn't tak( "How do you like Tom ?" asked Angeline, as- a dozen of 'em, if anybody 'd give 'em to me Frederick left the hut to seek Martlialer,' at the What's he good for? Jes' thfee feet long appointed time. There was mischief in Ange- That makes a yard o' nigger. Can't plant tip line's eyes. cotton, nor pick the cotton--a yard o' nigger " Much better than Dick," retorted the young can't. Laws ! couldn't lift a plantation-hoe. man, smiling. -For my part, I can't precieve what Peter Rust "'Pears like you do," said the girl, quite will- wants of sich a little toddlepole of a mald-fo'nd ing to follow up the interesting subject. " Stay- lin'. Ruther have a dog, any day. A dog '11 trot ed a good while, that's el'ar. Laws! How long along ahind his master, like a decent and 'spect- have ye been so fond o' boys ?- Didn't take to able kedrepid, and you'll never see him pitch- me like that, anyways. Fact is, Master North, polin' about as if he had a gill o' red peppers in didn't know whether you's in the secret or not. his stomich." Thought I'd try reception, leastways ; but I Extricating himself from the volubility of ain't a boy, more'n nothin'. Never was a boy. Angeline, Frederick North approached the fire, Laws, no!" where he found Peter Rust busily engaged in Angeline said this with so much good-nature, cooking, to the best of his limited means. The that Frederick was amused, and lingered a mo- still-hunter pointed toward the clustering pines, ment to give her some friendly words. . and said'. " We didn't put on there yer things because " You'll find him and his man out there." we wanted t(," continued Angeline, looking at " I have much to thank you for, Peter Rust," her masculine apparel, "nor for a frolic like ; answered North, gravely. "You have prepar- but because we couldn't help it, and was 'bliged ed for me the happiest surprise of my life." to 'scape, and get away,.and leave, and run off, "Accident, Fred-mere accident. It happen- and take to flight in the night-time, when it was ed so of itself. Chance, my friend, is sometimes dark. We had lots of trouble in pickin' our greater than our hopes. To chance you owe way here and there, and was scared e'enamost this. I trust, young man "--Peter Rust spoke out of our senses more'n once, nor twice, noth- impressively-" that you will improve this op- er. Love o' God, Mars'r North ! Mars'r Low portunity in a way that you will never regret." enthal was gin' to shet Miss Milly up in a con- . He rose from the fire and stood upright, with struction at the top o' the house. - Bless your his right hand traveling thoughtfully to and fro body ! they've got all sorts of contraptions across his forehead. down yer to worry Miss Milly. It's a queer " If I was what I am not," he said, reflective- house, that is, down yon. If I wasn't well, and ly; "if I could be what I would ; if my privil- was complainin', and was sick abed, and was eges had been equal to my honest wishes; if I down with the measles, or some other contig- could speak and act as some as I know of; if I uous disease, and was give up by the doctors, was younger nor I be, and the world was all and wasn't s'pected to live, and my life was de- afore me, and i was thrown into the company spised of, and every minute was the next, and I of such a young gal, I know what I'd feel, and was laying' at the p'int of absolution, I would I know what I'd say. I'd feel no feelin' that say and, declar' without squalification or pre- wasn't true and kind, I'd say no say that wasn't servation, leastways, anyways, or endways, that proper for sieh to hear, and I'd act no action it is a queer house ; a done gone, right down, that would throw reproach on my motives. up and atye queer house!" There ! that's what I'd do." n a I Iz S l I'l 'MILROSE ; OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. 85 t 1 a ! i{ page: 86-87[View Page 86-87] 86 MILROSE; OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER 'S DAUGHTER. Peter Rust paused and turned on Frederick information of the number of rebel troops hai two eyes,: holiest, but a trifle humid. ' The will oppose the landing of Dupont's and Sher- cheeks of the forester were somewhat redder man's forces, the number of guns mounted that usual, and there certainly was a needless Forts Walker and Beauregard, and comprise, shnrnefacedness observable about his brown too, a plan of the fortifications them rves.e countenance,, will not attempt to conceal from yu, Mr. North, "dYour notions," replied Frederick, in a sub- that this will be a mission of danger. The dued voice, "are so honorable, so just, and so bearer of these dispatches will have to pass fitting to the occasion, that my respect for your through the enemy's country, which, as ouare character is greatly enhanced. I heave en dcav- aware, is in "a disturbed and lawless stt;yu dred to;say and act in the manner you have in- person and movements will be subjected toyoue dicatedo; but I fearwith less of Nature's own picion and search, while you have a certainty spontaneous eloquence thaa a man I know of of being changed as a spy, if you are discovered." would have employed. I confess that you have Marktlialer watched Frederick's facevery. given meltameaner opinion of myself, and a closely while making these statements. more exalted comprehension of the teachings "Do you not own a plantation of negroes ?" of an honest heart.' Frederick asked.g Peter sighed incredulously, shook his head, " I do," replied the money-lender. and pointing again, said : "You have- much treasure in gold and sib. "You'll find him down there." ver ?" added the young man. Perceiving that Peter wishedto say no more, "I have." Frederick walked on, and by-and-by came upon " Perhaps you have many thousand bales of Markthaler and Jacob. The latter watched his cotton ?" coming with that tranquil demeanor and repose "I have." of features that always characterized him. The " You think the Union forces will save the moaey-lender was sitting upon the trunk of a country, and insure every right guaranteed b fallen tree, and Jacob stood behind him. The the Constitution ?" homer pointed to another similar seat. " I do," said Markthaler. "I prefer to stand," said Frederick, coldly. " If, then, you own plantation, and negroe, bI presume what you have to say to me may and gold and silver, and cotton, and believe the be soon said ?" Northern troops will restore the old and peace-' "And said it will soon be," answered Mark- ful order of things, why do you not ourself thaler. "o Can we trust him, Jacob ?" he added, bear the dispatches to the Federal commanders?" turning to the mulatto It was the .purpose of Frederick to observe " We may trust him," responded Jacob. the features of Markthaler during this question- Frederick looked with curiosity from master ing process and its climax, and see if e could to man. He felt that he ought to treat all this detect any sign of insincerity or double-dealing.; with indifference, but he found it impossible to and he adhered to his intention with stead 'er do so.hiMarkthaler imposed a restraint upon tincity. The money-lender met his gaze wth im which le could not break through. ,- firmness, but not without evident annoyance. "s am informed that you are loyal to the The yellow Jacob evinced surprise. His large, 1 pion," said the money-lender, abruptly. handsome eyes dilated wide o'n Frederick. 'e "I do not know but you may use the confes- " You are a philosopher, sir," said Mark- .an against me," answered North ; " but I free- thaler, dryly. ly own that I am for the old flag and the Wash- " I hope your logic is not greater than your ington government " patriotism. Possibly the danger is greater than b avoweded" said Markthaler. " I will you would care to incur I" be as straightforward as you are bold. A - " Were I disposed to accept the commission trustymessenger is wanted, to communicate you offer, personal dangeriwould weigh nothing, with the Federal fleet, lying off Hilton Head. in the account," answered Frederick, little There is important information to be conveyed pleased with the manner of the usurer. If Ire- to Commodore Dupont." ject the proposition, it will be because I have This means that you wish me to be the different plans in view."e bearer -of dispatches ?" replied Frederick. "To linger, doubtless, by the side of yonder Markthaler answered in the affirmative, maiden, while your country is in danger!" re- There are several things to be considered," plied the money-lender, in a tone of rebuke. observed North. "First, your loyalty; next, " Mr. Markthaler," said Frederick, gravels, your authority ; finally, the value of your dis- "I have not intermeddled with your affairs, and patches."it would be well if you took a lesson from me "For my loyalty, Peter Rust will vouch," in that respect. I acknowledge that I owe you replied the usurer. "[Mv authority is the same no trifling debt of gratitude ; but I am sorry to as that of any secret agent of the Government. say that your singular intrusion upon Miss he dispatches are so important, that they give Dorn's notice, and the well-nigh unpardonable MILROSE ; OR, THE COTTON-PIANTER'S DAUGHTER liberty you have taken in a matter that relates wholly to herself and me, nearly cancels the ob- ligaton." " Let me entreat youto be careful what you 1 say," interposed Jacob, earnestly, " weigh well your words, young mars'r, " Be silent, Jacob !" said ] arkthler, author-' itatively. Let the young n191It past .away his last chance, if he will. Ihfand hoped that ie possessed courage and zeal, landthat he.would show himself, worthy of one whose nAme Iwill not pronoune." The steadfast look of the money-lender ; the severe tone in which he spoke ; the startling import of his words, surprised, and epibarrassed North. It seemed to him that a new piase o( the subject was presented., The'ioneylender had, unquestionably, made..an allusion to lil- rose. What was the meaning pf.this?, By.what, right did he pretend to exert a controlling influ- ence over that yopng .lpdy ?., These thoughts coursed through his mind very rapidly. "Your last remarks," said Frederick,:anon, "lead me to inferences that are not altogether clear." Wacob made significant motions to North over his master's head, . " I have offered you the road to Milrose and fortune," answered the money-lender,,impress- ively,"' hod you have refused to tale it." " How can I leave her unprotected ?" exclaim- ed Frederick, throwing off the restraint which he had imposed upon his feelings. 1 " Trouble yourself not about Miss Dorn," said Markthaler, frigidly. "She needs not your courage to'defend her from danger. To other hands will be intrusted the care of her person. To-morro y'she will be far frgi here." Jacob continued to gesticulate behind his master, and Frederick was beginning to see that he was dealing with one whose power was great- er than he had previously suspected. But the secret of- this power baffled him. He feared he had already mnide a fatal mistake. He hastened to retrace hisgeps, to regain, if possible, the place he had lost in .the esteem of this strange man. " Be not in haste, sir," he said, considerably dis- concerted. "I have not yet decided to refuse to be the bearer of thpse dispatches you have men- tioned. I will ow.n, sir, that you-have held out a most powerful inducement. I will not pre- tend to deny that every thought of my life is' is influenced by this young girl. My country, my God, 'and Milrose, comprise the: arcana of of iy existence. . ... Jacob made an approving motion. - "Do you -hear this infatuated boy, Jacob ?" asked Markthaler, appealing to the mulatto. "Yes, mars'r," he replied.. "He is going to accept." " Do not encourage him, Jacob. Let him choose for himself," responded Markthaler, with severity 87 " He has decided, mars'r'. He will go. JIe will bear the dispatches with secrecy and coir- age," added'Jacob. with more expressive .pan- tpmirne for Frederick " Jacob is right," said the latter, urged on by his feelings, And phe mute entreaties of the slave. 'sI will go." 'Th papers y vedetmo. carry will be aeay for you i n ~l~qur," replied tbi~q money-lenider. " When you receive them, you will have fur- ther instructions, n4 the'rpute you are to taker will be ialiltefl" He arose to go. "Is ther9 to more, sir?", sked Frederick, anxiously. ." Did yo. .not, speak of Milrose ? Was I apt ieft to gifer soulewhat from your words ?" Markthaler turned upon Frederick suddenly, ,and said, with. an carnestygss that .he had not exhibited before during the interview : '"3e content, sir ! If you are worthy of Mil- rose, she shall be your'; if not, after thys. day you may never gainn behold her. I hold her destinies in my hand. As I will, she will act. As I decree, so shall it happen. . Doubt not my power." The, words of the usurer fell with thrilliu effect upon Freleriek. TIe would have smile at these declara tins, ehad not the strangely- brill ant eys gf Markthaler been fixed upon him with impressive intensity. While those orbs were beaming ox him" and that voice was ringing in his ears, he could not find it ,is heart to disbelieve. " What you tell, me seems incredible4!" he stammered, turning, with a strange sense of be- wilderment from the money-lender. Not re- ceiving any reply, he looked up a moment after, and percei-ed tha4t he was alone. CHAPTER XXXVII. TVE MEssENGER AMD. GUIDE. Frederick North returned to the but, meditat- ing upon what he bad heard. In this case, re- flection brought no light. The question re- mained unsolved. He did not weary of it, how- ever. Markthaler was an object of increasing curiosity. His singular manners andhis extraor- dinary face were continually dwelt upon. He wished to see Milrose,"but Angeline stood at the door, keeping guard u her mistress, and refused him admission. iss Milly, she said, was tired, and ,nt to be disturbed; ,o Frederick paced to and fro among the pines, At the expiration of an hour, he returned and found Markthaler waiting for him.. Peter and Jacob were 'with him. Jacob held a package in his hand, which,'at a sign from his master, h e opened. Unfolding several papers, he spread them on he ground, before Frederick. " Make yourself generally acquni-ted with their contents," said Mnrkth sler. Unless, in- yF I C jt((j t . .j j t. Z t}t 3 'f ,g 6 f f f x 1 1 i F ,i 1 t h m t E, 3 u pt JI tt page: 88-89[View Page 88-89] 88 MILROSE ; OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. MILROSE; 'OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER.' 81 deed," he added, "you have changed your mind." "My decision was made an hour ago," an swered Frederick, beginning to examine th( papers placed before him, on one of which was drawn elaborate plans of Forts Beauregard and Walker.- Having satisfied himself of the value of these documents, he again expressed his wil- lingness to attempt to carry them to the Fed- eral flag-ship. .These plans and specifications had been made upon the thinnest and lightest of paper, and Peter Rust, taking them in hand, very ingeniously quilted them into the linings of his coat. This consumed considerable time, and the afternoon was well advanced when Frederick was ready to commence his danger- ous journey. He was to set out in no other disguise than 'the Confederate gray;" and, in- deed, it would have been difficult for him to have procured any other in the vicinity of Low- enthal's. " Who will guide me from this wood ?" he asked, when there was no longer anything to detain him. " I have a guide for ye," said Peter. " A guide. asfpis as different from all others, as was ever seen': 4 guide as will go as no other cree- tur can go.,A guide as is not large in size, but full of all Ianner of locomotions' and propul- sions. - A guiqe who loves nothin', and fears nothin'." "here is he ?" inquired Frederick, looking showw him to ye," replied Peter, be- to whistle as if he were calling a dog. 'lihdiately Swampsy came somersetting to the spot, in a most reckless and eccentric fash- don. "There he is," resumed Peter, as the lad found a resting-place on the crown of his head, with his two legs and the soles of two black lit- "tle feet pointed like tridents to the skies. " There he is, Mr. North, and it don't make -any odds which way he goes.- Self-adjustin' and self-movin', little Dismal is. Don't have to touch no springs to start him, and when once in motion, there ain't nothin' on airth can'come up to him. Swampsey' filliped over on to his feet, and took on, with marvelous facility, one of his most solemn and impressive countenances, the fellow of which could not be found in the whole of oottondom. " A yard long," pursued Peter. " An insti- tution and a contraband, a chattel and a cattle, as Martin Broadbent would say ; but he can =guide you, not only out of the pine barrens, but to Beaufort itself, and by highways and by- ways and slyways that you've -no idea of."- "This black dwarf guide me to Beaufort !" exclaimed Frederick. "You are jesting, Mr. Rust." " Can you show' him the way to Beaufort, r little Dismal ?" asked Peter, turning to Swamp sey. The foundling winked and }blinked, and wag. gled his head like anfeducated seal. 3." You needn't be afeared to trust him," con. I tinued Peter. "He don't talk much, 'but he knows 'a heap o' eunnin' tricks. If he don' keep clear of the prison secesh, it won't be f want of the natur' of the fox." f-'dI have entertained a high opinion of you judgment, Peter, but in this instance I confess I distrust it," replied Frederick. "Poor little gymnastics i" said Peter, re- flectively. " Iobody trusts in him. Nobody believes in him; but he's helped me more' once." Help )Iars'r Peter !" drawled Swampsey, his dar countenance becoming animated, " Help Mars'r Peter " " He was my guide last night," said Freder ick, "and his instincts were sufficiently sharp for the purpose. But _the undertaking before me is a d erent affair, and I fear the lad would encumber rather than aid me. He might be a clog upon my movements, rather than the use- ful creature you are inclined so think him." "He'll be no drag upon ye," responded Peter. "He can take care of himself better nor most people. But I don't just like that rebel jean that you're wearin'. Howsomever, if you can get beyond the reach of the Beaufort Guards, it'll answer very well ; but if Capin Middlcton gits hold of ye, you'll be shot asn desarter. If you haven't traveled that road much, you won't know which is the safest ; but Swampsey has been there With me at a time when it wouldn't been safe for us to be seen by certain rabid disunionists. If you see hium throw a double Somerset and rund s fast as never hie can, why, take the hint and skedaddle after him. Farewell, Frederick, and come back safe !" The shook hands, but Frederick still linger- ed.It wished to have spartingY word with Milrose. He was going onan errand from which he might never return, and desired to re- new his vows and bid her adieu. SGo," said Ma '.kthaler; "there is nothing to detain vou. I know why you loiter; but is in vain. You have said to her all that you need say. You have vowed by the moon and the stars ; you have sworn by everything movable and immovable; you have poured ft madora tion by the canto ; you have sighed by the hour, and I see no more for love-sick ingenuity to perform." Although the money-lender tried to speak very gravely, his tones lacked that severity which he wished to enforce. Frederick was about to reply with some eat, when Peter prevented him I'aking the aoug man by the arm, the still-hunter ivalkel tIl him soe distance on his wanterwa k wit, hiin, in a friendly manner, the virtue of patience, and the value of wholesome self-restraint. 'North endeavored, by various expedients, to draw from Peter some definite knowledge of the usurer, but was foiled at every point. Of one thing, however, he felt perfectly assured ; and that was, that Markthaler was ,not what he as- sumed to be. That he exercised, or was about to exercise, an influence over Milrose, he 'as more than ever disposed to believe. Parting from Peter, be followed his little guide through the pines, in a state of dreamy doubt and uncer- tainty concerning the, circumstances that so strangely surrounded him. C ER XXXVIII. FREDERICK DIS CARDS THE ADVICE OF HIS GUIDE. Frederick pursued his solitary way. The sombre shadows of hight soon enwrapt the for- est like i vast mantle. He could scarcely see the little figure 9f Sivampsey as he ran along before him. He asked no questions, he made no conversation with his pigmy conductor. Thoughts of Milrose, Markthaler, Lowenthal, and Lovelace engrossed him'for a long time. The night grew older; the stars came out, and the moon now and then sailed 'out from among the clouds, and cast upon his pathway soft, white gleams of light, which quivered like elec- tric flashes on the dead pine-leaves. Frederick had at that time little consciousness of his mis- sion. It is true that he intended to discharge his duty with courage and zeal, but there was a sweet dream of Milrose upon him all that night. Every kind word ; every gentle look ; every tender fiash of the eyes ; every beaming smile ; every stray, ringlet fluttering over her white cheek, and all the graces of her person, were re- membered and dwelt upon with all a lover's de- licious infatuation. It is certainly a great pity to drag a lover rudely from-his first Alden, and to obtrude very commonplace things upon his attention in his moments of exaltation ; .but' Frederick was brought out of his enchanted catalepsy by the discharge of a musket, and the warning music of a bullet passing near his person, and striking the branch of a tree beyond him. Swampsey, on hearing this salutation, saltated very high, and came down very low, and looked around very seriously. Frederick drew a pistol which Markthaler had provided him with, and was attempting to discover the source of danger, when Swampsey said: - " Mars'r Fred," and pointed with his finger. North looked in the direction indicated, and caught glimpses of the Confederate gray mov- ing about among the trees. He comprehended the situation at once. Some of the Beaufort Guard were out searching for him. The conse- quences of capture he well 'knew, and he re- solved not to be taken al e. He was not de- cided which way to go, not' knowing the nums ber of his pursuers, nor at what points they might lie concealed. Little Dismal settled the matter, and if he did not end the doubt, he did the irresolution. " Come 'long, Mars'r Fred,'' said Swampsey, and ran as fast as'he could. North remembered the injunctions of Peter, and followed him. A harm less volley of mus- ketry rattled among the trees just behind them. It was to Frederick a very novel flight, but by no means wanting in the excitement which dan- ger lends to adventure. Swampsey s methods of propulsion were exceedingly varied. Some- times Frederick was confident that the black dwarf was soberly adhering to the earth in the accepted order of nature, and at the next mo- ment was equally certain that he was revolving, end over end, on an equinoctial line drawn just below his stomach. But in whatever fashion lie went, the young man had difficulty in keeping up with him, and at the expiration of ten min- utes, was in a profuse perspiration, and very willing to.halt, if such had been the will of his conductor. They presently emerged from the forest, and were fairly launched on the planta- tions, across which Swampsey led the way with tireless speed. This continued till Frederick was nearly ready to sink down'from exhaustion. He had heard 'pursuit at the outset, but lost sound of it before leaving the woods. Swampse guided him so adroitly, at they evaded 'te houses of the planters arid 'equar- ters of the negroes. From a high ridge of ground he could see, when lie stopped, Lowen-' thai's mansion, the roof of which was 'silvered with moonlight. The sight gave him mingled feelings of pleasure and pain. It was there he had seen Milrose ; it was on those silent grounds that his heart had been captivated ; it was in one 'of those pleasant walks that, with pale cheeks and agitated voice, he had dared to woo her. "Come 'long, Mars'r Fred," admonished Swampsey. "But where are we going, my lad ?" asked North. " Goin' 'long, Mars'r Fred. Runnin' -'way from the men with guns. Sogers kill Mars r Fred, if they cotch him." " I must go toward Beaufort, at all events," added Frederick. " Go there with Mars'r Fred," muttered Swampsey. ' "Where is Beaufort ?" inquired Frederick, desirous of testing the knowledge of the lad. " Down you," replied the foundhing, nodding toward the seacoast. As vague as this answer was, he was forced ti be content with it. His guide gave him little time for reflection and choice, but led st right on across fields of cotton, through upland and low- land, through wet and dry, regarding with sub- 'i i , i 3 f t F C e 4 3 nott 'i { F 1 i 5 f Z g}Y 7}}i Y k F , i t { 7 1 1 ]Q a t o . tb page: 90-91[View Page 90-91] 90 MILROSE; OR, THE CQTTON-PJANTER'S DAUGHTER. lime indifference, every natural obstacle that hearthstone. He remembered where he wa#, opposed his progress., The lightness and' agili- and oi what errand he waagoing. He was a- ty of Swampsey, gave him a decided advantage tonishla to discover that lie had slept so long. over North, who, although the boy hadnfioder- 4e0using hmsref with want of zeil, Jhe ap.. ated his pace, still found it difficult to keep near pro.ahed a window, and opening it, leanedout him. .and ihaled the efreshingogrnnig air.:,Having A little after midnight, they reached a de- stood' there' a few moments, 'he thought of eerted farm-house, which they entered. The Swam psey, and h4s eyes iristietively-wandered foundling signified to Frederick that he would about in search of him. e expected to leae rest a short time, and then go on again. Scarce- him sleeping on the floor, or basking lathe sun, ly waiting for this intimation frogn his strange at the, deog; t iin this he has disappointed., conductor, Frederick stretched himselA'upon aving satiaed himself ,that ie 'as not in t he the bare floor, and in a few moments wad asleep, bouse, he w ontoit ind called him in as:louda Never was slumber more welcome to his ex voice'is he thought pudent. There uas no'an- exhausted frame. He forgotalike care and dan- swer; no boundinginto sight of the dwatf ger. If a single thought crossed his braii, it gymnast; norwhirl and twirl and somerset ; no was of Milrose--asoft, sweet dream. soigppoface ; nowinking and linking of two From this peaceful rest he was awakened by very grave apdwiery white eyes. the foundling, before,,it seemed to him, he had 'Frederik Was' uneasy. He reconnoitered slept ten minutes. .He opened his .eyes vaeant- somewhat 'in the 'eighborhood of the farm-n- y. By the pale light of the moon, he saw the house, but with no. other result than the con- dwarf's face beside him,; it broke in uponha is vistion that;lie was deserted by his guide.' dream Jike a dark phantom;, it pushed away He begn' to'consider which-way he should the image of Milrose, and oedupied her place. go; ad by the 'timehe had settled that point, It was not till he had spoken that Frederick he thought ofh'lis dispatches, and involuntarily comprehended the situation . put his'hand'to his ebat, where Peter Rust had "Come 'long, Mars'r Fred," said Swampsey. concealed' them. He' did not feel them. He "4Go away," yawned Frederick, and lay ,down pres"ehi-er4heopened his @oat-the linings again. were cpt-the papers were gone. Amazement But Swampsey was not to be put..offs o for an instant 't ansflad himo the spot; but easily. this emotion was quickly followed byconfusion "Mars'r Fredrmustn't staylhere," he persisted. ind selfreproach. He reniefibered the warn- "Marsi- Fred 'ill get cotched. Boger men ing words' of Sivapsey, and perceived plinly hunting' for Mars'r Fred." where he'had made a fatal mistake. For a time " Go to sleep," muttered Frederiek. he could scareeiy'believe that the precious pa- "Mars'r Peter don't want,ine to go to sleep. -per were abstracted, but his'hasty and anxious Mars'r Peter wants them yer paper card safe search among the several linings only confirm- down to them yer big ships," added Swampsey, ea the too-apparent truth. g fact, the long, growing more earnest... ertical gash itself was siffecient to.inform him "Lie down, my poor boy," answered North, _vliat had'taken place. What farther evidence wearily. "Your small body must bestied.' We. was needed ? The dispatches were gone, Swamp- have traveled far, and in this. retired spot .are' 'sey was gone, and his honor gone, too. Had he quite safe. So be content." lost. Milrose 'with 'his dispatches? If the nare- Frederick dropped to sleep again. The found- ne--lender was to be 'trusted, lie had. Never ling awakened him by droning in his ear : in his life had Frederick felt so keenly a misfo: "Mars'r Fred ! Mars'r Fred !" tune. But these things do not come singer; All right !" mumbled Frederick. "'Go as 'they conie in groups, and so it fell out with fast as you like; I am with you." him ; for while he was fumbling 'hopelessly'im He was unconscious imrpediately, and all the linings, hie was awakened to a sense of dun- Swampsey's efforts could not withdraw him ger by' the sudden sound 'of footsteps appi-olch- from a sleep that overpowered every sense and ing, at a double-quick, accompanied 'by the pe-+ faculty. eugar and unmistakable clangor of muskets and In the aluumberoushours that followed,.there bayonets. In a moment, Frederick 'was sur- were more drea is of Milrose, wild, romantic, rounded by a corporal's guard of Confederate inconsistent,-yet enchanting. soldiers. He pulled out his pistol as quichly as The dreams. of night and slumber have an he could, but, the rebel bayonets were already end ; the nocturnal, witcheries of the imagina- bristling at his breast, and to have ued it would tion, like every charm' of the fancy, fly away have been madnes. He returned it to his with the morning dews and the morning sun. pocket, and awaited the 'result of' this utex-. The young man awoke, arose, and looked arouri pelted event. He' was at once, roughly search- with an uncertain, inquiring glance. ' ed, and a pair of hand-cuffs slipped upnii his The red sunbeams streamed in at the. farm wrists. By the time this was aeomplisheh he house windows, and trembled on the dcoer" . h ad recogn:zod Corporal Bently, of the Beaufod. ,t fih' ' Guards, a man whose pretty persecutions dur- ing the few days he had been a conscript in Captain Middleton's company, lie had many rasons for remembering. "March him up to the farm-house," com-' manded this doughty warrior. " And after we have rested, we'll right about face for. Camp' Royal. Arter th4t, my lads, you shall see a man shot for desertion." " Meaning me," said Frederick, calmly. "Meania' you!'" retorted the corporal, em- phatically._ North now ceased to regret the lost dispatch- es, for now there was a possibility that they might have fallen into worse hands, or, at least, come into possession of those Wrho would be glad to use them to his disadvantage. He was hurried to the farm-house hoe had so recently left,3iid dragged into it with more en- ergy than hadness. With many threats and much roughness, he ,wAs thrust into a corner, and ordered not to stir, on pain of being sum- marily dealt with. The Confederates then un- strung their knapsacks, and distributing them- selves about th% room, drew forth the rations which they had brought with them, and began to make themselves comfortable. Several sug- gestive flasks appeared, which passed 'rapidly from one to another, and with marked effect; for presently they became boisterously merry, and told wonderful stories of the cowardice of the Federals, and of their own exploits. Fred- -rick was offered nothing in the way of good heer, but more than enough in the wa. of abuse. They called him a great many hard names, and assured him, in every style of dec- lamation, that he was sure to be shot as a de- serter on reaching camp. All this, as may be believed, did not have a very inspiriting effect upon North, who began to believe, seriously, that his last hour was near. From Lovelace he could expect no favors. The relations which they respectively sustained to Milrose, left him little room for hope. Lowenthal he had equal reason to dread. Between the two, he doubted not but the fate promised laim by the corporal and his rough crew would be remorsely meted out CHAPTER XXXI- THE FARM-HOUSE. As the soldiers grew hilarious they became uisitive, and in searching -about the house, covered a keg of whisky. Now, for their own good, they had better have found a keg of ;unpowder; for gunpowder is easily let alone, tit whisky is not. These gallant fellows made ueh an assault on this dangerous magazine, hat several of them were, in a short time put rs de combat, and were forced to lay down both- heir arms and their legs on the floor. On ac- ount of this mishap,.the corporal, who, to tell the truth, was but little better off, was cormpeil- ed to remain at the farm-house: till his-confeder- abes should be in a condition to shoulder arms and right about face, march. This was one of the casualities of war which could no more be provided against than battles or cannon-balls. Corporal Bently swore an oath or two, then mollified and moistened his wrath by a pro- tracted suction at the keg. After getting his breath, which, for a -few moments, he thought had slipped away into the keg and was lost, lie put two of the soberest men to guard Frederick, then seating himself, with his tack against the door, soon lapsed into a rum sleep, in which he dreamed of Confederate cotton, Confederate ne- groes, and-Confederate scrip. Bull Run and divisions of flying Federals doubtless entered into. the composition of his vagaries, together: with a prophetic view of the greatness and prosperity of the magnanimous South Carolina nation.' The two men set apart, to keep watch and ward upon Frederick North, distrusting their own powers of endurance, and willing to pro- vide for contingencies, proceeded, in spite of remonstranc-s, to tie their prisoner's ankles to- gether with a stout cord, which they found by rummaging about the house. Having by this remarkable foresight met 'the danger in ad- vance, they had more leisure to attend to ' their personal comfort. Some of their comrades, who yet remained sober enough for that duty, went out and examined the poultry-yard ; and finding nothing to reward their trouble, came back in bad temper, and were obliged to have two respective and serious struggles with said keg before their disappointment would soften-; but the most obdurate ill-nature'will yield, after- a time, to the benign influences oz, new corn whisky that is a dead-shot at forty reds. If the author had time, he would raise a loud pean to ,rye and corn, when sublimated to 'the form of liquids .stimulant, rampant and benic- nant to man., He does not feel equal to the task. His ambition soars not so high. Humbler themes employ his modest pen. He knows that it is a good thing for rebellion; that it is it mild accompaniment of cotton and niggers'; that water injures it; that it foams the glorious background of Southern' war ; that it takes kindly to bowic-knives and pistols ; in short, that it renders one Southern gentleman fully equal to five Northern abolitionists. With, this measure of knowledge, the uninspired author subsides upon himself, and resignedly waits for a loftier intellect to lift the laudative chorus to an element so necessary to the existence of rman, yet so destructive to women and children, ne- groes and Indians. It may readily be believed that Frederick ob- served tie movements of his captors will live- ly interest. With secret satisfaction be beheld them, individually and collectively, approach- C r MILROSE ; OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. 91 - page: 92-93[View Page 92-93] U2 MILROSE ; OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. ing a state of inebriation, which, in its progres- sive stages,'. was exhilar-ating, jubilant, vain- glorious, boisterous, maudlin, and, finally, inane and stupid. The corporal, awaking after . three hours' sleep, made a great bluster among his fellows, but failed to get them in a suitable condition to start for camp ; so that the remainder of the day and most of the evening were spent in abortive endeavors to rally. These lion-heart- ed creatures had fared so badly in the service of Jeff Davis, that they were glad of a little freedom, and were in no hurry to return to their bondage and corn-bread. Being interested in but one institution in the country, and that re- lating almost exclusively to the distillery busi- ness, they could not be expected to display so much alacrity in the cotton war as those who actually owned thousands of bales of that arti- cle. Whatever feelings ,actuated them, they elearlyydecided on improving present opportu- nity, and so the whisky debauch went on with- out serious interruption. Frederick was faint and thirsty. One of the Confederates, better-natured than his comrades, held a tin cup full of the contents of the keg to his lips; but his kindness came near being more fatal than his cruelty, for it was of a na- ture so hot and fiery, that the hero of this story liked to have died under it, and barely saved himself from strangulation by aspasmodie with- drawing from the burning chalice. As it was, he became very red in the face, and his throat smarted so badly, that, as favor, he begged the good Samaritan to take the cup away, and give him gunpowder and water, or a mild prep- aration of nitric acid. Frederick was a silent yet vigilant observer of the progress of events. He hoped an op- portunity of escape would occur. He made various attempts to slip the handcuffs from his wrists, but unsuccessfully, He also made repeat- ed endeavors to free his limbs from the cord that kept him helpless, but with no better en- couragement. At night, some fuel was brought in and kin- dled in the wide fire-place. This fire, during the evening, lighted the room, flashing fitfully on the uncouth amusements of the noisy revelers. Having failed, as previously stated, to procure poultry, some of the more adventurous of them went farther, and fared better ; coming back with a corpus of a juvenile swine, which was put to roasting as soon as sufficient beat had been produced. It was the superintendence of the martyrdom of this porker that kept most of them awake after their first stupor, and the dead sleep t hat followed it. Despite the loss of his dispatches, and the fate that menaced him, Frederick finally grew weary with watching and fell into a gentle sleep. He knew not how long this lasted, but probably it was but a brief respite from fatigue and anxious (oreboding, for the swine was still sweltering at the fire, and the sleepy ones sat nodding and starting, impatient at the delhe Assisting- in this protracted culinary procves Frederick-beheld with surprise one who, unquve tionably, had entered during his slumber, an, that person was Babel. His surprise was in stant and genuine. The agency of this gigantic black in his escape from Camp Royal, was som' thing he could not forget. He owed him debt of gratitude. He had often thought him since that night when he so unexpected; appeared to guide him through the Confedera guards to Peter Rust's hut. - He recalled th fact that the man had not spoken on that occa sion ; also his inference from the same. W not the coming of this seamed and scarred n gro a favorable omen? He was inclined to r gard it as such. He.watched Babel with awakened expec tions ; he fluctuated between hope and fear ; i watched his every movement. But Babel kep at his work ; he turned the perspiring carcase he dipped the reeking juice% from the vess into which they trickled, and turned them upe the blistering flesh. The white trash, sensible o his superior skill, had fallen back, and relin quished the momentous business entirely to hi management.. Frederick tried to meet his-eye but Babel appeared entirely unconscious of hi presence. He was somewhat puzzled at thi but did not not lose heart and hope. Thi persecuted creature might be wiser and mo pdtic than he seemed. If lie had saved hi once, had he not the same incentive to save hi again ? There is nothing so easy as for a mat to believe what is. agreeable to him ; and Frederick solaced him-elf with hope.. The cooking of that Confederate pig was th most tedious process to Frederick that he ha over witnessed. He wished a hundred time that it would take fire and consume in its ow fatness ; but nothing of the kind happened The steaming, roasting, basting, and burnie, were accomplished at length, and the savor object of so much care placed on a table before those who had been so long expecting its ad vent. Babel then drew out of the keg, into pail, what was left of its contents, and set it be fore the happy subjects of the new and grea Republic, who attacked it with as much freedo as if they had belonged to the smallest prince pality of the Fejee Islands. It was a welcosel sight to Frederick, for he was well aware ti sleep would follow satiety and excess of dri. The belligerents had good appetites, an their feast was provokingly protracted. W ha lie anticipated came to pass, with a few excep tions. Three or four of them, instead of yield ing to the stupefying effects of the fiery beve 'age, took on the wild and excited phase tha not unfrequently attends the drinking of larg quantities of alcoholic stimulants, and prove I I 98 MILROSE ; OR, TUIE COT tiON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER.T i . i i - not only annoying to their companions, but I dangerous to the prisoner. They were at first content with insulting re- marks ; but this not being satisfactory to their chivalry, they began to offer him personal in- dignities, They snapped- their fingers in his face, jostled him from side to side, pricked him with their bayonets, and were proceeding to more serious treatment, when Babel, who was now, apparently, as drunk as the rest, arose from the corner where he had been sitting, to all appearance asleep, his- great head swaying from side to side, and approached the scene of these unmanly Saggressions. His eyes shot flashes of light, and his gigantic frame quiver- ed with excitement.- Frederick marked him closely as he came. The scars on, his face stood out more palpably, and he plainly read read by the bright firelight the word "BABEL," charred into the shriveled flesh of his arm. He caught the muskets from their hands and dart- ed them through the window; then turning upon'the men themselves, beat them down with his great fists. The noise of their fall, and of the brief struggle that preceded it, awakened the corporal from his heavy slumbers. Seeing some of his men fall, and Babel standing over them in flaming woath, he staggered to his feet, and drawing his sword with much difficulty, shouted to his fellows to' get up and defend- themselves, for the devil or the Federals had come. The black, quite undismayed, sprang-to the table, seized the wreck of the roasted porker by the hinder legs, and swinging it over his head, to give it momeutnm, let it fly at 'the corporal with such force and precision, that lie was swept from his feet as effectually as if stricken by a cannon-ball. Babel was now master of the field. He giatched the corporal's sword from the floor where it had fallen, and set Freder- ick's limbs at liberty in a moment ; then, grasp- ing him firmly by the arm,-hurried, or rather dragged, him from the house. Some random and very scattering shots followed them. " Run, Mars'r North !" said Babel. Frederick heard this with amazement The dumb giant had spoken ! The young man could not refrain from exclaiming : " You speak l I thought you were dumb and deaf." "At times," answered Babel, hoarsely, "I -am mute as the' skies, and deaf as the clods we walk on. But to-night my senses are unsealed. I hear and I speak," Frederick hastened on in silent wonder. Im- pelled by strong curiosity, he soon returned to the subject. " Do you, then, control the powers of speech and hearing ?" he asked, considering, with some- thing of awe, the grim figure at his side. " 1 do," replied Babel, solemnly. "I say to. my tongue, Speak not ! I say to my ears, Hear not ! and lo! -I am deaf and dumb. No sound reaches my soul, and no sound proceeds from it." " Why is this ?" inquired Frederick, his eu. riosity still more thoroughly aroused. - "Ask me not," 'muttered Babel, sombrely. "The time may soon come when you shall know. Till then, let me be Babel, the deaf mute. When my purpose is accomplished, I care not what 1 may be, or whether I shall have any being in this dusky form. When my work is done, this black-and unwieldy-frame may per- ish for aught I care. These corporate mem- bers may lie down with their. sears, and seams, and unhealed wounds, to become food for the crawling worm and the consuming mould. To mother earth resolved-dust to dust, and ele- ment to element surrendered ; then will enfl the career of the man-animal, Babel. I thank the mysterious powers of Nature that the white and the black man are hurrying to - one common grave." The black spoke with stirring vehemence. His petit-up passions, like an overpowering tide, gushed forth without restraint. "God is just '' answered Frederick.' " I know nothing of the Southern Go ", es-. claimed Babel, fiercely, stopping suddenly, and turning upon Frederiek as if he would read him. " I care not to know the Deity that would op- press my race. They are weak fools who ac- cept the vile religion of their oppressors. It is enough that they wring gold and pleasure from our blood and our tears. Let them not force. upon us a religion that teaches them how to. whip, starve, and. break us down to the condi- dition of cattle, whose patient necks bear the galling yoke." i He paused, and swept the sky with his long dark arm and hand. " The God I believe in, exists in yonder star- ry arch ;, but whether' he dwells in the moon, or in the sun, or in fields.of light far removed from mortal vision, I know not ; but if such a being lives, the white and the black Saxon will one day plead their cause together." He stopped again, then added : "But I have-done.' Speech is a mockery of human expression. I shall soon abjure it, and re- turn again to be the dumb devil I was. Betray me not till the time comes. Talk to me ne more at present, for we must hasten and I must soon leave you. By-and-by, I will free you from;those irons, andyou will be at liberty to resume your journey to Hilton Head." Babel went forward again like a race-horse, and Frederick followed him silently. i f r F H F st 7 i Yy i 5 " 4 4 c t a y ;S Y r3 4. page: 94-95[View Page 94-95] MILiOSE ; OR, THE COT VON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. 95 94 MILROSE ; OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGI TER. CHAPTER XL.. THE REAL, BEARER OF THE DISPATCHES FOUND.. Babel halted presently, and with 'considera- ble.hammering and 'prying, relieved Frederick of the ironsouhis wiasts,. "If you would go to Hilton Head," he said, pointing with' big finger, "your way is yonder. The Federal fleet is riding in the harbor, and you may be, fortunate enough to pass the rebel pickets and reach it-in safety " 1" But why should I go ?" asked Frederick. "My dispatches are gone, and I fear my honor is lost with-them." . "I know nothing-of your honor, whether lost or found," returned B el. . "During my life- my miserable and oppressed life-I have seen little of the article you call honor I I have'known Cruelty and Rage, but never honor, in the white men that have claimed to own my flesh and my blood, and to guide my muscles and control my will. 'Cruelty and Rage have I known, and Re- venge comes next." The great, white rints 'of:Babel's eyes grew yellow with wrath. ,.His broad' chest heaved .and swelled like the waves of the sea, and Fred- erick beheld, with something like fear, the tre- mors of his muscular body. "~ ... "It is the key of my lif !" muttered .Babel, huskily. " Revenge is the key of my life ; the key that locked up my soul in silence ; the key that kept me deaf, the 'key that shut me in with my own boiling and burning passions, to wait, with' weary and' wearing impatience,. the day and, the hour, and the momentof retaliation. It is near at hatde Notinueh moreiwatching and waiting ; not, much more reviling; not many more blows not inany more blood-hounds. As soon as the Northmen have taken Beaufort, there will besuch a sight as North Carolina never wit- nessed -before. A shout of joy will rise from the cotton-fields and rice-swamps, that will'make the white masters pale with terror.", I' ;'-And what do you think of Lowenthal?" Frederick inquired. r M'Mention- hita not t". cried. Babel, 'furiously. "Speak not hi accursed name!' Look here-.-m see this !" . . ' {Babel lifted -up his branded arm. The soft lightiof the stars and the moon lay in white bil- Iowe on the-brown 'letters.' "BABEL, 1860", stood out as if every character clamored for attention. "It burns at this moment, as if the smoking irons were still eating into the flesh!" added Babel.' " Each letter-demahnds its separate ven- geance. 'I will give limnpain for pain, blow for low, and death fur all,!" He' gnashed his, teeth 'and: his wrath. grew startling. llolding his arm toward heaven, he exclaimed, with thrilling effect : "Let the God of the white man look down on this, and witness between the two races of men !" North, amazed and pwed, recoiled from Ba- bel and averted his eyes. . Immediately, Babel turned and strode away. Knowing it would be useless, the young man did not attempt to de- tain him, but stood thoughtfully where the black had left him. , . Something dropping from a tree and falling beside ,ln made him jumpwith alarm, under the impression that a wild animal was about to attack him. Such a. rattling and scattering of the leaves followed, that Frederick could not in- stantly determine what kind of a creature had come ; but, by-and-by, by close examination, he was able to; separate some black feet from the revolving' mass;.and very soon' after, the crispy head and solemn face of Swampsey were mutely presented to view. , His surprise was great-; or he had given up all hopes of again seeing the foundling of Alligator Swiamp. But there he was, lithe and agile, and good as new. There was manifestly as much squirm, and twist, and leap-frog in him, as ever. He recol- lected most of the unique names that Angeline had called him, and could not help smiling as he contemplated the little fellow.- Swampsay's absence had not been unproduc- tive of results. He reappeared to his new master with some notable improvements in his toilet. He had discovered, somewhere in his travels, a pair oft honeopathie trowsers, which had-been tenanted originally by a very small child, and into these Swamps ad crowded his eighteen inches of legs, and contrived, by pulling and tugging, to button the waistbands just above the, hips. The general effect of these trowsers was, to ,make the foundling's short. pilasters look like a pair of candle-molds ; and leaving, on ae- conat of the shortness.of the garment, a black selvedgeextending from the ankle half-way to the knee. When Frederick had time to take in the full stage-effect of this costume he forgot, in his sense of-the ludicrous, even te loss of his dispatches.. The tow-shirt, of which mention has been made in divers and sundry places, japanned with dirt and glazed with faithful serv- ice, was gracefully tucked under the trowsers, and fell in baggy festoons over the waistbands. "Where have you been, Swampsey ?" asked Frederick. " Been 'way, Mars'r Fred," replied the found- ling, in a voice as straight on as usual. This reply was so obviously true, that North had nothing to say about it. "But why did you leave me ?" continued Frederick. "'Cause I went off," drawled Swampsey. This was so exceedingly. reasonable, that Frederick.had not a word to urge against it. " Do you know what happened after I went tasleep^".queried North. ', Tole ye not to go 'to sleep, Mars'r Fred. But you would go to sleep. If you'd kept your eyes yopen, you wouldn't gone to sleep. Soger. nmen come and took Mars'r Fred." Seampsey tried to insinuate his hands into the pockets of his new trowsers, which were drawn so tightly around his little body, that it was impossible for him to insert more than ones finger. This, howevet,gave him ample satisfac- tion, And lie threw a somerset on the strength of it. "That was. not all, my sooty gymnast," said North. "Did you see Peter Rust sew some pa- pe s into'the linings of my eoAt ?" " See Mars'-r iPeter put 'em in," answered the foundling. '"Mars'r Peter wanted 'em ear'd safe' down to them yer Yanks, as am goin' to -hoot the, rotten shot at de big forts. Know- what Mars'r Peter want, well 'nough. Don't want them yer papers"lost." "Lost they are, at all, events, to my shame did disgrace be it -spoken !" exclaied Frede- riek,"-despondingly. "Poor little fragient' of life !" he added, abstractedly. "He cannot realize how much I have lost in those , dis- 'atches. Possibly I may hav 'lot Milrose. atmysterious money-lender' intimated that' my success depended upon the faithfulness with Which I discharged this trust. Well, I have to' thank myself for it.. I was atupidly forgetful of, iy duty and the responsibility'of my mission.' O Mijrose ! Milrose !" "Got 'em yer," said Swamps y, laying his hand ubon the breast of his tow-shut. "Seed 'en in like Mats'r Peter." A 'gleam of .indescribable triumph 'flicered over the foundling's face. "Got the dispatohea ?" exelaited Pe leriok, i ieedulously. "aIn yer," responded $wampsey, pointing 'tb' 1is bosom. "In there I" repeated FredeIck, atilI it dopbt whether he undeitood hitn. The black dwarf winked and blinked nfflrma- tively. " How did you get therfi ?" demanded Fred- ariek, somewhat sternly. " Cut 'em out Mare'r Fred's coat. Mars'r Fred *AM 'sleep," replied' Swampsey, perfectly self- asetsed. "'You !" cried Frederick, quite confoundedd. A 'ou cut the linings of my cont! Yf6u take but the dis' catches ind iake off with' them'!" V Yes, .nirs'r Fred," responded' S*aiapse Nte dily, with a benign wag of the head What fort ?" interrogated' Frederik', whose wotider had not abated. - 'to keep 'em,' replied 'Skampsey :"Inew got'd'be botched, and Mare'r Peter ' wants 'en tbokdu dowi yon. Was goin' down with 'em.' gMetabel. Babel told 'me to wait out yer. and I t aited. TIhese be the papers." h pampsey pressed a 'black "finger 'upon' his breast again. ' "live 'them to ie,'said Frederilt, advane- in n holding rout rdshand. ed S -Keep 'em for Mars'r Fred," answered Swam p - sey, with immovable gravity. "Nobody wont know whar' to find 'em." "What! you keep them ?" demanded North, who was unprepared for this announcement. " Why,,"'he added, with a smile, "if they.are discovered concealed in your shirt, you will be hanged as a spy." " Be hung- for Mars'r Peter," said"the found- ling. " Don't 'care what happens if they get the papers down you." " ou are too small to take charge of them," remonstrated Frederick, who was overjoyed' to find that the dispatches were not irrecoverably lost. , "Besides, you may lose them in some of your ground and lofty tumhlings." . Swampsey shook his head in solemn and ut- ter contradiction of this possibility. " Can't git out. Fastened in tight. Sh 'n't go to sleep." The closing argument of Swampsey's remarks was one that came close home to the conscience of the young man. He really felt confused be- fore this odd little creature. Sleep, indeed I It was wellithought of. - It was aptly spoken by Svatmpscy. Frederick reflected. The lad had displayed remarkable instincts. H1is mysteri- ous foresight had probably saved his dispatch- es front the 'rebels, and very probably his own life. Why should he not trust him ?' He had proved 'the more faithful of the two. There were no good reasons why he should not allow him to retain the papers ; and as he was resolv- ed to do so, 'whether he sented or dissented, he made a virtue of necessity, and made no further efforts'to get possession of them. i" Do' as you like," said Frederick. " Per, laps your plan is the best. So far, at least, you have exercised the utmost discretion ; And, iti truth, youare the hero -of this undertaking. Now, Swampsey, as I appear to be thrown upoh yur guidance, tell me which way we shall go? Ifydiknow of any place where we can-procure something to eat, without being too closely questioned,-go there as fast as you. can." : 1 Swampsey winked a few seconds, turned slow' lf about,"'and started off with more than usual moderation.' Frederick followed him with great" er faith than on the previous night; and just as the morning rays were gilding the treetops, came in sight-of a house, toward which 'the fouandiih directed his steps. CHAPTER XLI. WI'! MARTIN BROADBENT. -Frederiek{ and his guide soon reached the house, when the latter signified that the former should 'knuk, 'whieh he did, although not with- out misgivings. He heard heavy steps, and the door being opened, he was surprised to see the grave face of Lowenthal's overseer-a person with whom he had had some acquaintance. The surprise was mutual. Frederick knew not how 9 l t )d. 9 t y t 7r7 t! t x A i i 2 L' y k_ Y 0 page: 96-97[View Page 96-97] 96 MILROSE; OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. to meet this man. He stood silent and uncer- "The Union forever 1" interposed Ela, with tarn before Martin Broadbent. warmth.f "Enter,. young man," said Martin*" and "I re-echo the sentiment," said North, im. "Ma nown tyuin ess." pressively. " Why should I disguise a feeling My business is simple indeed food and that is honorable alike to the heart and the un- rest," replied Frederick. derstanding ? Whatever. your views are, Mr. 'The master of the house will doubtlessly Overseer, mine are in harmony with the Wash- grant thy request," said Martin. ington Government. If you live in accordance grantder went in, and Martin, closing the with the peace-loving religion which you pro- rdre wsen it. Sandse ate fstig fes you will not, betray me to the rebels. To enter, and appeared very much at home; 'as he be frank, I am beset by traitors, and my life is seemed to be in all places. Martin conducted in peril." Frederick to a small room on the first floor, "My business is not to betray, but to. save the only occupant of which was a young wom- and to deliver. While here, I trust thou wilt an, who arose at his entrance.s be safe. . But one cannot tell what a day may It is friend, i," said Martin. "Thou bring forth. Thou canst see from this house needs not be afraid. It is the young man, portions of the Yankee fleet lying off Hilton' Frederick North, of whom I spoke to thee on Head. Tomorrow, if' I am rightly informed, the way." there will be an attack upon the rebel forts, and Frederick bowed. Swapseymarched de- soldiers and citizens will be marching and hur. murelintk the room. ring to and fro. If the Confederates 'are de! rhis is that strange little, being," added feaed-which there is good reason to believe Broadbent, "of wom I also made mention as they will be-by ascending yonder hill, thou having been found in the swamp by one Peter mayst be able to see them fly, or witness their having toe whound he the nowgatply attached. capture. by the Federals. Thoughi our troops Rustly, he is very unique, quaint, and wonder- prove victorious, there will still be danger to; fully agile; full of quirks, and capers, and nurn loyal people. I, would, advise thee, friend, to' berless eccentricities. I would commend him keep close within these walls until the battle to thy care and kindness, because, of a truth, has been fought." he loveth his master, and followeth him like a ,e Quaker looked earnestly at Frederick. faithful dog." I would'that you would speak out plMainly, Ela made a graceful acknowledgement to that I may ;know you," said North, hesitatingly. Frederick, and greeted the foundling of Aliga- "That may not be, friend, for I know not my- tF i Swandp with, a pleasant smile g o self. This young lady," he pointed to Ella," is "I confess," said Frederick, recovering from one who hath experienced the reverses.of life., h"s Iemor esm arFrederint, rethver Im sur- On her way, to the North, she fell into the hands prised to meet you so far from your planta- of Roscoe Lowenthal, from whom' she suffered tion. insult and indignity. it.was my happy\fortune t .~ th a fsrrs" reund Mar to rescue her from his power. She is one-of . "i. "If I caneadhe signs of the times, sur- good family, but unjustly robbed of fortune by' rn "w IfIlow sr ses in qickmsuccession. the wickedness of this rebellion. I greatly es. I have left my bla Saxons to take careson teem this maiden, and am willing to endure themselves for a season. But not for long; I'll much for her sake. I go not back to my black, warrant,.thee, Frederick, that I shall see them lambs"good-natured twinkle peered in Martin's Sooner than they may desire to meet you, eyes, and he lifted his broad shoulders signifi- if the accounts I have heard of yog be true," eahtly. "If I mistake not, friend Frederick, answered Frederick, with a smile, the black lambs will soon come to me. You eerily, I have had the name of cruelty," will, soon see such a stampede amopg the slaves iesporsde dBroadbent, with it glance at Ela, as was never dreamed of in all cottondom. whose cheeks flushed. "But the time will come When the thunderous guns of the Wabash give when all who know me may judge of my con- the signal of general assault, a thousand fetters duct." will fall from a thousand limbs. A thousand,. "I cannot discuss that point with you," said did I say ? Ay, ten thousand ! Thou wilt dis Frederick. "I take it for granted that every cover whether men love slavery or freedom man's conscience accuses or acquits him of in- best.,. If. the institution be mild and benevo. ustie" 'lent, master and man, white Saxon and black, " Thou art true to the old flag, I believe ?" ob- will fly together, and together seek commnags served Martin, thoughtfully. safety anSI common good. This will be the test 4 " Would you have me true or false to it ?" de- of the modern bondage. If it be good, the dos wanted Frederick, warily. 'ciue negro will to it adhere, with all the tenacity I would have thee do according to thy con- of his simple nature. If it be align and cruel, science," answered Martin. from it lie will hurry with 'joyful steps. Let the MILROSE ; OR, TIIE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER 97 laek,thr dom be weighed in a just balance. I CHAPTER XLII. ask no more ; whatever, happens, it ill be the TO PORT ROYAL. decision ot God ifor it is according to the Di- havingg breakfasted, Frederick North inform. vine ruling that evil should have its. reward at ed Martin Broadbent that it was imperatively last. necessary that he should resume his way, and Frederick, during his brief acquaintance with communicate, if possible, with the flagship, Bm'oadbeit, had not seen his: countenance so in- Wabash. spired as no0w. ' "I will not detain thee, friend Frederick," the "The experience of this young girl," he ad- Quaker replied. "On the contrary, I will bear ded, turning to Ela, "adds another condemna- thee company ; for I know of a place close dowa tion to the system of negro slavery. . I will not to the margin of the sea where we may, without state the circumstances. It were not seemly, or risk, witness the grand scene that is about to at least not delicate, to relate her short history." open in the harbor." He approached her and respectfully took her " But the young lady you call Ela ?" queried hand. Ela arose. Her face glowed wit h grate-. Frederiek. ful emotion. " This young girl," Martin went "The young lady I call Ela," answered Mar- on, "bath been a pleasure to my mind and a tin, with a smile, " will give us her good com- delight to my eyes. I have been exceedingly pany." bold, friend Frederick. I have thought it no' " If I. draw not false conclusions," added harm to tell her that she had cast a charm upon Frederick, "the young lady called Ela will find my life. I have said to her, - love thee, Bin!' you her good company for a very long time." And why should I not say this much ? If she "As Heaven may ordain," said Martin, softly. loves me not, she can say: 'I thank thee, friend " And as you mutually agree," said Frede- Martin, for thy love, but I cannot repay thee in rick. kind.' If, on the contrary, her- soul responds "Verily," quoth Martin, "I should ask thee to a declaration which thrills the heart of every concerning one they call Milrose-the girl Mil. woman, she might, perchance, reply; ' Your rose !" goodness is greater, than my merit. I am pleas- A beaming smile flitted like a gleam of sun- ed, but perplexed by your preference. Wait shine over the sun-browned visaged of Broad- till you know me better."' bent. The cheeks of North were suffused. He The voice of Martin Broadbent was tender could not her the name Milrose pronounced and solemn. Frederick thought he spoke as be- without emotion ; it sent all the blood in his came a man ; and notwithstanding the presence system deliciously thrilling through his veins. of a third- person, his, words were marvelously There is such magic-in a beloved name. There apt and proper. is such music in the sound that represents the "' Mr. orth," said Ela, raising her . hurried embodied image of affection ! There is such a eyes to his, "this man is of too nobie a iuature tumult of hope apd expectation in a few con, to be trifled with and deceived. Aid me. to re- joined letters of the alphabet ! sist him. I fear I. shall be too easily won. I "Ask what you will," answered Frederick, am greatly tempted to repeat the answer he gravely. " I have seen enough of you to know has so kindly framed for me. But I must not- you, and to trust you.' You have spoken a I do not-and yet I do." name that I en never hear with indifference. bElaverted her eyes ; she smiled, she trem- It is. a name that I have hoped to speak often, bled, she blushed. and. to have always near me. But fate takes " I owe this man, a great debt," .she added, pleasure in baffling my expectations, and sur. preaenty, "and youpust pardon me, Mi. rounding me, daily, with fresh difficulties. Mys. North, if I treat him as his generous and out-. terry attends ne at every step. I am hike a foot. spoken character dem ands." ball continually buffeted about, now flying in the " I see no need of concealment ;; we are rather . air, now rolling in the dust." pleased with each ,other," she went on,.with . Frederick looked so serious, that Martin tap- graceful timidity. "But we shall be very rai ped him on the shoulder, and said:. tional and practical, I am sure. He'll get no "Be of good cheer, friend Frederick. If the encouragementfrom me, Mr. North, although, girl loves ;thee, that is more than half., If there we have been placed inmost strange and thrill- were no love, lad, it would be a different thing. g 1-elations." It is the mutual love that lends a charm to Fred erick walked toa window and looked out, these matters, and forms alike the joy and the Something passed between them behind his terror of life." back, he could not tell , what; but Martin " Can you give me any definite information," Broadbent looked quite content and happy, Frederiek asked, " of a certain usurer, whese when,.by-and-by, he turned his inquiring eyes name is Markthaler ?" upon him. "I know there is such a one," replied the Quaker, slowly. "and that Roscoe Lowenthal has often applied to him for money. More t r t f 4 i i { p 'y S 7 F{ } r i, f e k } 3 d 4 t 1 3 T A S' li kT } II ' a P e h ti R page: 98-99[View Page 98-99] 1Y 48 MILROSE ; OR, TIE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. fhan this, I do not feel thattl cIan tell thee. But in the bottom of the boat, like a little, black here come the horses prepared for our use. terrier, as solemn as ever, his white eyes roll- We will lose'no time, but set out at once." ing in every direction. Nothing escaped his Three negroes appeared, leading as many vigilance that could possibly be seen by a horses, saddled and bridled. One of them was foundling's eyesight. If a camp-fire blazed on provided with a side-saddle, for Ela, who was the adjacent island ; if a rocket went up, break-, presently assisted to it by Martin ; when, Fred- ing into a- thousand red-and-blue streamers eriek and the latter mounting, the party moved among the clouds ; if a signal-lantern gleamed off at a brisk pace, followed by Swampsey, who from ship or fort, Swampsey saw it. - stoutly refused to take a seat behind his new Frederick knew not, definitely, where they master, infinitely preferring heelsto horse. were going ; he only knew that the little vessel{ Martin studiously avoided thoroughfares, was gliding noiselessly along. Frequently they choosing by-paths and roads little traveled. heard the challenges of sentinels, but passed on The- reasons for this were obvious ; for that unnoticed. The young man wondered that Mar- part of the country was now astir with excite- tin would expose Ela to the imminent danger os meant. Blacks and whites could be seen from being fired on from the shore. He observed every hill-top, hurrying to and fro in confusion, that he sat on that side of the boat most ex- as if in expectation of impending events. In posed, to guard her with his person from rebel the distance, the beating of drums, the shriek- bullets. With his massive form beside 'her, a ing of fifes, the occasional blast of a bugle, and, deadly missile could not well reach her, save now and then, the solitary report of a musket through the breast of the faithful Martin. or field-piece could be heard. The signs and They floated for some time over the calm wa. portents of war, the evidences of revolution, ter. At length, shooting around the headland, were visible from every eminence and at every the whole Federal fleet, or as much of it as turn of their secluded way. could be seen by the moving lights aboard and Frederick was much deceived in regard to the the faint light of the rising moon, lay dimly- distance to Hilton Head, having supposed that before them. It was a goodly sight. The Stars two hours' ride would take them to the sea. and Stripes, floating from the " Wabash', made But the windings and deviations of their course Frederick's heart thrill with pride. The great were such that their progress in a direct line hulk nodding gently to the slight swell, her tall was slow ; so that it was quite dark when they spars 'thrown darkly against the sky, were, to reached Bluffton. It was, on the whole, a day him, a prophecy of what she would do on the of adventure. They were often stopped and morrow. It was with a strong effort that he questioned, but gave such plausible answers repressed the spontaneous impulse to cheer the that they were suffered to proceed.- On one oc- glorious old flag. Higher and higher arose the easion, a squad of raw Confederate recruits, in moon. There were clouds lying along the hor. charge 'of a sergeant, surrounded Swampsey zon, but the silver light struggled through_ with the intention of ducking him in a muddy them, and revealed yet more plainly the Feder pool of water ; but foundling has to be caught al fleet. before he can be ducked, and the only difficul- The features of Broadbent worked with emotion ty they encountered in this laudable under- Ela shed tears. The oarsman kept his oars lifted taking was, that of catching him ; for they a moment above the water to gaze at theforest of could no more lay hands on Swampsey than smoke-pipes and masts, leaving the boat to glide they could chase down a weasel; so the dis- forward by the impetus it had received. Soon patches, which Frederick feared, at one time, after, one oar dipped, then both, and the light Were in danger, came off safely, and with many vessel shot into a small creek. The keel grated notations and sbmerset~ that they never would on the sand ; the boatman jumped into the wa- have had, had they remained on the more quiet ter and drew it up, so that Ela stepped from the person of our hero. - bow to the shore. Frederick perceived that At Bluffton, they experienced fresh difficul- they were on an island very near Hilton Head. ties ; but Martin Broadbent, by some mysteri- - XL--- . ous shibboleth, smoothed the way, and finally CHAPTER XLIII. reached the house of .a trusty person, with THE FOUNDLING OF ALLIGATOR SWAMP GOES TO rhom, it appeared, he had had previous com- THE FLAG-SHIP. sunication. Here they were generously pro- A short distance from the water was a growth tided with refreshment, of which they were in of palmettoes, to which the person who had Feat need. The night set in quite dark. After governed the movements of the boat and acted seating an hour, they again set forward, but in as their guide conducted them. Sheltered and % different manner. Silently they embarked in hidden from view by the trees, they found a " boat, attended by the man who had enter- dwelling of considerable size, into which the gained them. Each was enjoined not to speak. boatman entered with Ela and Martin. Freder-. They left the shore, and the m iffied oars fell ick waited outside until the two men rejoined lightly in the water. Swarmpsey lay curled up him. As for Swampsey, he had walked along I .i I MILROSE; OR, THE COTTO .ery soberly, andkept verynear his new frie . The countenane of Frederick he now watchU very closely-seeming, like the faithful dog, to get the meaning of his master' from his silent face. Having left Ela at the house, the parties re- turned to the shore at a point where the land ran: farthest to the sea, in the direction of Hil- ton Head. The' defensive works of the rebels were plainly distinguishable. Lying off, out of each of the guns, was the flag-ship withwhich Frederick was so anxious to communicate. Frederick looked at it with wishful and restless eyes. Swampsey, the important bearer, 'of the dispatches, sauntered about with, his hands be- hind him,'apparently the most unconcerned of the party. He kept remarkably to the ground, not once revolving like a wheel, standing on his head, spinning'round like a top, nor throwing a single somerset, till, their guide'dragged a very 'small boat from among the shrubbery, and laiichied it-upon the water ; then he executed one of the most wonderful aerial baltations ever recorded in history.: Having ventilated his feelings in this manner, he waited with lively' interest the development of events.. The boat- man appeared in no hurry. His notions were notably slow and hesitating. He looked often towArd the Confedefe batteries. ,' We are a little ,"'he said, apologetical- Iy "The moon ut ifle too high."' " The 'danger ni be encountered, at all events," replied Frederick, with decision. "This little cockle-shell -of a boat will be blown out of the water," returned the boatman, shaking his head dubiously. " There are plenty of glasses 'sweeping yonder sheet' of water .to-. night. A hundred eyes will see you before you have passed half the distance; and a dozen ri- fled-cannon will send their gompliments." , " Neither eyes, nor glasses, not rifle-shot shall deter rne 'from discharging my duty. ' I ask no one to attend me. I know enough'of boat-craft to row myself to yonder ship." "wampsey lost not a word of this discourse, and evidently comprehendingthe exact gtate of- affairs, threw himself into the boat with incon- ceivable quicknesss, and seizing' one of the ears, 'lbich were very' light, pushed from the shore before any One could interfere to prevent him.. When out of reach, he east overboard both oars, ari'taking up a paddle that pappen- ed to be in theboat' began to se it with skill and trapid'ty. It was in vainthat the boatman shouted -after him. P=It was in vain that Frederick called tOehim tg dome back. The foundling of Alli- gator Swamp nanifestly had a will of his own, and gave -no more heed to the frantic cominands, and gestures of Frederick than to the tumbling of the spray, upon thg headland. Away he went, dispatches and all. ,Pespite his chagrin, the young man could not forbear smiling at the absurdity of the situation. N-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER- . 9 "You'll never see that contraband again," said the boatman, shrugging his shoulders. " You'll see a flash over yonder presently." He leveled his finger toward the Confederate works. Meantime, Swampsey, perched upon one side of the boat, plied the paddle brisky, and the frail vessel glided over the long and regular swells with much more velocity than could have been expected. The moon was high above the clouds ; its long white beams trembled like shafts of silver along the heaving water, and bathed with mel- low light both fleet and battery. The same great fountain shed equal blessings on friend and foe. It-was a spectacle that one might see but once in a lifetime -, the sight of a century -ship and transport, tug and steamer, compris, ing the great naval expedition, riding calmly at their moorings in that magnificent harbor, al- most' within range of the Confederate batteries. Between the rebel works and the Federhl fleet, tossing on the waves like an egg-shell, was the little boat containing Swampsey and the dis- patches,' and which, though now but a mere speck, soon became an object of attention to ship and shore. There was a bright flash from one of the island-batteries, and then a booming sound rolled-out to sea ; while, simultaneously, a large shot went skipping from billow to billow, finally disappearing far beyond Swampsey. But the founding heeded not this salutation, but continued to propel his bark with a 'steady pur- pose. Shot after shot followed this serious ad- monition. Rebel balls fell like hail around the impassive little black. Frederick became pain- fully interested. With a glass, which their guide had brought, he kept an anxious watch of the boat and its occupant. " His head is gone !" he exclaimed, as Se thire- ty-two-pound rifle-shot went shrieking in fearful nearness to the undaunted voyager, and he sud- denly disappeared. "Nay, lie je up again," said Martin."He as saved his head by dropping into the bottom the beat." " 1e'stands on the gunnel, dipping his paddle as briskly as ever," exclaimed Frederick, ex. citedly. "The foundling of Alligator Swamp bears. a charmed life. Really, I am very anxious for the'safety of this little fellow. The Confed- erates are firing for practice, and some of them are very good ,range-shots. It is unmanly to keep up such a thunder of artillery on so small an Ohbect" The glass passed from hand to hand, and each expressed, by turns, his interest in Swampsey. By-and-by, shells began to drop about him, most of them, fortunately for him,,exploding too soon or too late, A few, however, burst near enough to. threw great jets of water -over him, and envelop him in smoke. But through-this furnace-blast of shot and shell glided the boat in safety, and by-and-by, like a fly on the ocean, - 4 i jl it 1 liu ' i i ;, i '' i j I t { I S . i f t 1 t t s a S F "i t i ryi 4 3 i t 1,r P i i r 1 S r n t k j t f u page: 100-101[View Page 100-101] r 100 MILROSE ; OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER.- he disappeared under the dark bows of the "Wa- bash". But a short time.elapsed before l'reder- iak saw something, which he supposed to be his pigmy body, drawn up over the side, and de- posited on the deck. - "His, mission is accomplished !" exclaimed the young man, relieved of an unpleasant load of suspense and responsibility.. "SAnd all for Mars'r Pieter," observed Martin. "Had Peter of, the Pines wished those papers conveyed to Foi-t Walker, they would have been carried there with esal fidelity." "He will not ooine baek, certainly," said North, somewhat uneasily. 1 "Verily, he will return, friend Frederick," answered Martin. "Nothing can keep' him a, moment longer than needful from his beloved Peter. Look ! he goes over the side of the ship,, and -and'now he is in his egg-shell again. He'll come back, though a thousand hatteries roar at him.". Broadbent was right. Back paddled Swamp-., sey, through bursting shell and bowling shot. The iron hail and the sulphurous flash were the' same to him. Columbiad and mortar, rifled Armstrong and Whitworth, carronade' azd swiv- el, ten-pounder or hundred-pounder, were of like significance to this unique bearer of dis- patches; and he cared not the snapping of a thumb and finger for the whole of them., Perched on the gunnel, his dwarfed proportions' were the focus of hundreds of curious and inter- ested eyes. Both sailors and soldiers watched his passage to and from the flag-ship, noment- arily expecting to see boy and boat swept from the water like a speck of sea-foam.' -. , CHAPTER XLIV. TIDINGS oF MILROSE. Although Frederick had wished to be the spe- cial bearer of the 'dispatchs to the flag-ship,.he was not disposed to murmur'at' what lad oc- curred, or to envy the-laurels b Swaiipsey. The latter celebrated -hia success by four rand consecutive double-somersets, the first"-of the' series being thrown with u usual sprightliness from the bow of the boat." He infused into this performance 'at 'least one-foundling .power- speaking after the manner of horse-pyee sind' dog-power, with bark-grinding and culinary re- miniseendes in view. On being questioned, Swam sey'was as clear and lumiinons in 'his answers as he had been at any time since Frederick had, been blest with the inestimable 'treasirl of fhis'society.' "6Why did you'play ine such a trick!" asked Frederick, intending to bequite ste-n.' "1Went off in the boat," answered'the hero of Alligator Swamp, his eyes Working at the rate of a hundred winks a minute. 'Let' Mars'r Fred ahind.' '"'I know you did," said Frederick, biting his lis. "It is a very sorry caper. I was very aious to go to the flag-ship myself."s " Mars'r Fred didn't. go," quoth Swampsey, with the 'same truthful felicity. ' " I certainly did not," said North, who found it difficult to feign anger which he did not feel. '"Did you deliver the papers ?" - ' "No, didn't d'liver 'em, Maih'r.Fred," drawl- ed 'the' fou'dling, his eyes revolving rapidly, and liistirongcontradiction of the idea, as he un- deratood it, contained in the last query. "What did you 'do with them, then1?".de- manded Frederick, considerably startled., " Giv' 'em to the man with the gold things on his shoulders. Tole him you brung 'eni from Mars'r Peter," said little, Dismal, with sol- emn honesty of look. " Thou apeakest' beyond his comprehension,' friend' Frederick," obse-ved Martin. " Thou shouldst use simple langiigp when thou confer- est with such."" "Wiat'did the-inan with the things "*dis shoidders say ?" continued Frederick. Took 'em down cellir," said Swampsey, ime pertubably serious.' " Ie Went down cellar I" laughed the young man.' 'IWhat'did'he do after he went'down cellar? dae "Spread 'em on a table and looked at,' Soon's I see he could rcr ,d 'em, knowd. 'tvs the man Mars'r Peter jed to have. 'erih. Some more men come ar oked at the black marks, and I comed 'way.' Wanted me to stpy. Said I'd' get ,blow'd 6ut the water goin' back Tole 'em I'didn't 'car' for blowin'; must go to Mars'r Peter. Man with the things on 'his shoulder looked at me 'stran e. Sailor-men was goin' to hold me;,but ;I'slipped down 'the'side the' ship f'orethey couldcotch me.' Then they all hollered 't' 'me 'to stay, au4 I wouldn't be hurt, anabe 1oosk'ea-' on. Tein men with great swdrds come up out o' the cellar-place and made motions, to me, and I said, 'Mars't Peter, Marsr'Peter', and went 'way.' "Did the commodore say. that the 'papers Ore valuable ?" "No.;" said he liked 'em," replied Swam psey repelling by a solemn' shake of the head the idea that they were valuable. -" ifars' IPoter wouldn't have noffin'4o' de with papers that wasn't good." Just then, a shell from the island struck the water and exploded' within fity y !' of them, casting' jets ;of spray high into the air. For' tunately, neither of the parties were injured. "With the oniplimente of the season," re- marked Fredei , with'a smile. *-' . "Verily, our' rebel 'neighbors yonder have diseoveied us," said Martin. "We might as well m ve away out of range ; for shells, friend Frederick, are not missiles to be "trifled with; and go not out of their course for any man." They now returned to the spot-where they' MILROSE; OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER first landed. Frederick noticed that anotherI whele,' and the blindest man'11 see when h1s boat had been drawn up, recently, on'the sand sight is restored.. Keep a brave heart, young near the one in which they had performed their man, and everything that is to happen will lap- silent voyage.' Incidents that afterward hap- pen. Don't make a noise, lad. Still-hunt your opened made him recall this circumstance, and fortis', and slow-track it, and don't, by no means gave it significance. .They walked to thehouse *hatsonever, fuller it with dogs.". among the palmettos.- ';hey, had scarcely This was a figure of speech borrowed from reached it, when Swampsev ran forward with Peter's own manner of life, and Frederick un- tlie joyful cry of4" Marsr Peter'! Mars'r Peter,!" derstood it as thoroughly as if the idea had His revolving eyes had discovered, at a consid- been couched in the plainest offpeech. erable distance, the tall figure of Peter of the " If saie is safe," pursued North, following his Pines. This erratic character would have evad- thoughts ; "if you pledge me your word that ed attention, had it been practicable; butseeing she 'has been duly. cared for, I will endeavor to that his presence was detected, he slowly ap- be conterit." proached Frederick, whose surprise was great. "Look at 'little Dismal," answered Peter ; "Seeing is believing," he exclaimed. " But "see him pitch-pole about ; see him cut capers this is' a totally unexpected visit. I dQ not ask alow and aloft. Be as happy as he, Frederick you whence you come, but why ?" 1orth. I tell ye, kind and true, that there isn't "I come because I wanted' to come; because much trouble afore ye. As I said afore, if I was I was tired of the -pines; because Iliad business young ; if I was good-lookin'; if I had l'arnin', here; because the Fedei-al'fleet lays in the liar- and could talk like a printed book, and write bor, and the North and the South are about to like a settled minister ; if the world was all try each other's courageand metal; in short- ahead of me, with its sunshine, and its woods in short, for other reasons as I do not name ; and birds, and fields and wild game, and I was all of which," added Peter, hesitatingly, and leved by Milrose, Ishould be the happiest bein' not quite ingenuously, "you understand," in existeiee. It would be a good world, and she "When an honest man departs froni frank- would bethe light on't." ness," replied Frederick, laughing, and' cordial- The still-hunter sighed pensively, and raised ly shaking hands with Peter," what a mixed his cap a little from his tanned forehead to let mess he makes of it! No matter what you the cool sea-breeze lift the matted locks of his come for, I am glad to see you."' ' brown hair. It breathed coolly on his honesb North took the 'still-hunter by both hands, head,' and he stood quietly then, rapt in and gave the calloused palhis a hearty pressure. thought. Milrose, doubtless, appeared to him P -" We shall have stirring times in a day or again in white, as on that eventful night at two. How did you leave-". Frederick stop- Lowenthal's, and was the lost angel of his life. ped as suddenly as if a ten-inch shell had burst - at his feet.- CHAPTER XLV. "Which ?" asked Peter, dernurely,, enjoying STRANGE MEETINGS. the young matn's embarrassment. Frederick was conducted into the house, and " Whi'h did you observe i" Peter winked after some conversation ith the boatman, and blinked & la Swampsey as long as his good- shown to a:comfortable ch mber ; but lie was nature would allow hiin, then added : not in a state of mind to sleep. hitting down "When an hone man departs from frank- at a window, lie looked out dreamily upon the ness, how mod-st he becomes." shadowy palmettos. . The soft moonlight rest- The still-hunter laughed quietly. ' ed on leaf and I ough. The varied incidents of " Milrose was well when I see her last. She the day ; tihe remarkable delivery of the dis- looked well, she talked well, she acted well, and patches ; the meeting with Peter Rust; Peter's that, I guess,.is well enough." words concerning Milrose ; the impression pro- " I left somewhat abruptly," said Frederick, duced by the Federal fleet ; thegrand and terri- " perhaps foolishly. I confess that I was ble events about to happen, conspired, with strangely influenced by that unaccountable many other things, to lout him in a serious and man who seems to be so much involved in the meditative mood. Memories thr'unged him. affairs of Lowenthal 'and Milrose, I doubt Many emotions were awakened, among which whether I should have parted from her under were hope, fear, and doubt. Milrose continually the circumstances. I have thought, sometimes, glided in and out among his fancies. She that it was a trap to beguile nie. I may be came and went with light and with darkness, wrong ; but it now appears to me that my place with joy and with sadness. was near her. Who has a better right than I A strain of vocal music reached his ears. It to guide and guard her ?" was a woman's voice, but from what direction it " Like many wise men, your forethought flowed, Frederick was at a loss to decide. He comes afterward," responded Peter. '" But threw up the window ; the melody cmirie in don't give vou'self no uneasiness, whatsomever.' more audibly, but the words were not distill- The crookedest thing 'll get straight, arter a guishab'e. lHe listened with breathless~ atuc ,- 14 .. 1 1 1 page: 102-103[View Page 102-103] /' I 102 MILROSE; OR, THE CQTTO-ATER'S DAUGHTER. tion. The voice had an undefinable dream for ture, the graceful tracery, of the spars against him. At one moment he was ready to believe the sky. He wondered that he could have it was not unfamiliar to him, and at the next thought of sleeping on such a night, with so he was left in complete uncertainty. . The sing- much to see and to think of, and with events ing appeared to come from the palmettos. Un- 'impending that were to become history forever. able to bear the suspense longer, Frederick He was aroused by the working of oars in softly left the house. The notes that had be- the row-lock's, and by the sudden appearance of guild him forth, eased for a time, and he a boat which shot around the headland, with waited for their recurrence anxiously. By-and- "the swiftness of an arrow, and touched the shore by it was resumed, but at a greater distance. immediately. This craft contained at least a Frederick walked among the trees ; he followed dozen Confederate soldiers, and Colonel Love- the voice which receded as lie advanced. He lace was the first to step upon the sanid. Fred-1 hurried forward, but the unseen singer becom- erick, as may be believed, recognized his rival ing silent again, he was entirely at fault, though at once. His first emotion was surprise, on the not inclined to abandon the pursuit. He wan- heels of which came very just fears for his per- dered about a long time,-more and more interest- sonal safety. He arose to make his escape, but ed in this nocturnal mystery. Disappointed and a dozen 'Confederate muskets were instantly doubting, he was returning to the -house, when a leveled at him, and he prudently stood'-where sudden turn in the pat brought him face to he was. Colonel Lovelace approached him face with two ladies. The younger and slighter quickly, and very soon he was, for the third formed of the two was thickly vailed, and Fred- time, in the hands of his enemies. erick could not see her features ; but he mental- "Well, sir, you see how .it happens ?" said ly said : "It is Milrose !" He believed that he Lovelace, addressing our hero., could not be deceived in the graceful figure and "It is useless to struggle with fate," answer- deportment. Her companion was a woman of ed Frederick, despondingly. "Nothing less riper years, taller in person, and notably digni- than my life will satisfy you, I perceive." fied in mien and bearing. "We respectively represent two sides of a Both the ladies and Frederick stopped. It question to le decided by the deadly warfare was an unexpected meeting, and the parties of countrymen. The stern usages of war must were embarrassed. The one that the young be complied with," said Lovelace. "I arrest man took to be Milrose, was agitated, and clung you as a deserter from the Confederate army." closely to her companion. He knew not what " The punishment of which' is death," re- to say. He bowed, and rather awkwardly sponded Frederick, with bitterness. maintained his position, looking from one to "I see that you need not be instructed on the other. The features of the taller of the two that point," observed Lovelace, coldly. "You were peculiar and quite bewildering in their ef- will get into the boat." feet upon the young man. He was confident " I must do as you bid me, but I assure you he had seen that face, or one strangely like it. I would resist if I could," added Frederick, with She met his confused looks with firmness, and spirit. " If you want my blood on your hands, after regarding him attentively a moment, said, why take it. I know well the reason of your quietly: deadly enmity, but my death will bring you "Will you allow us to pass, sir ?" no advantage. Those that .live, will live and Reddening to the top of his forehead, Freder- love the same. A drum-head court-martial ick stammered : changes not the heart of woman." ."I beg your pardon; madam," and stepped "1 understand you, sir, but your notions are aside. somewhat wrong. I have given up Milrose. Both of them swept on, leaving Frederick Such a person no longer lives for ne. She is stupefied with surprise and in an unenviable dead ; deader to me than you will be to-morrow state of uncertainty. Had he seen Milrose? night, when a dozen Confederate bullets shall If he had, why this silence and mystery? Why have pierced your bosom." did she not address some kindly words to him Lovelace spoke in a hollow and melancholy, en passant ? Why this reserve and coldness? voice. If her heart confessed an equal love, would she "I owe you some reparation," he added, allow him for even a moment to believe he was " and I will pay it. While my men are gone under her displeasure ? Who was the dignified to yonder house among the palmettos, to make and self-possessed woman ? Whose features further arrests, I will give you that opportunity,, dkl she recall? It was easy to ask these ques- for satisfaction which you once demanded of toni, but impossible to answer them. me, and ,which I promised. I have pistols, if Frederick changed his mind, and instead of they will answer your purpose." returning to the house, walked toward the shore. By this time, in obedience to it gesture by the He sat down upon the beach. The Federal colonel, the soldiers moved off toward the pal- fleet was in full view, the glorious moon and mettos, and the two men were left together. the effulgent stars revealing, like a magic pie- The proposition of Lovelace was sr unexpected, i 4 MILROSE ; OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. 103 that for a brief space Frederick was mute with tinned Frederick. " If the people of the two surprise. It was an exhibition of magnanimity sections of the country understood each other, which lie was wholly unprepared for. there would be no quarrel. The North loves " Surely, sir, you are jesting," he replied. liberty, education, rid humanity; while it de- " You cannot for a moment mean to east plores oppression, education, and cruelty." aside your advantage- and put your life on " Yes," said Lovelace, again ; and looked equal chances against mine. From what I have dreamily at the Federal flag-ship. known of you, I cannot expect this." - "We need go no farther, I suppose ?" Fred- "I make the offer in good faith: accept or erick observed. reject it," answered Lovelace, seriously. " As " We need go no farther," repeated the oolo- I informed you, I have pistols. Let the dis- nel. "This place is good as another." Lance be five, ten, or twenty paces, and either Saying this, he mechanically drew a brace of will be satisfactory to me. If I fall, you can pistols from his coat. take yonder boat and, escape. If, on the con- "They are revolvers," he said. " We can trary, you fall, it will save you from a desert- fire six shots a piece. If'you hit me the first er's fate, to-morrow." time, do not mind firing until your weapon is The Confederate officer spoke calmly, and empty." without passion. His eyes were turned toward He spoke with peculiar quietness, and was so the Federal fleet, and his countenance was pale different in his air and bearing from Lovelace as with melancholy thought. Frederickwas im- he had heretofore seen him, that Frederick was pressed by his tone and manner. He had never quite nonplussed. seen 'him in such a mood. Indeed, he had never Just then the young man cast his eyes to- deemed him capable of such honorable conduct. ward the palmettos, and saw Swampsey ap- I t here he wits before him, grave, generous, proaching with more than.usual moderation. and, to a certain extent, just. "I shall take no undue advantage," Freder, A round shot from Hilton Head, just then, ick replied. " I can not nor would not fire at struck between them, and plowed a deep fur-, a disabled and brave antagonist. You seem se- row in the sand. Lovelace did not move ; he' rious to-night, sir. I doubt whether you are in regarded the now motionless messeng:r with a state of mind to fight a duel. Indeed, colonel, indifference, for life had evidently lost value. I no longer feel resentful and vindictive. Let "I confess that I know not what response to us part without deadly arbitrament. Go your make," said Frederick, thoughtfully. "I am way, and suffer me to go mine. Your death glad to change my opinion of you. If I could will not benefit me, and the world is large have my liberty,' 1 should prefer not to lift my enough for both." hand against you." . "It may not be," replied Lovelace, with firm- '' Let us go yonder," answered Lo slace. ness, and with sadness, too. "I have injured And they walked away together on the shore. you. I have been unjust. I have needlessly put your life in peril. I have permitted pas- CHAPTER XLVI. sions to rankle in my heart which should not THE RIVALS. have been there. I loved ; and love, while in Lovelace paused occasionally to look at the good men it exalts the sentiments, stir's into an- gunboats, which evidently gave him an uncom- gry strife the baser elements of the bad. In foitable feeling. He could not but remember loving Milross, I forgot all else, and my passion that, not many months since, he had an interest overstepped my honor. I not only deceived in those same vessels, ships, and steamers, was myself, but, by a traitorous friend, I was also proud of the glory, and treasured the traditions deceived. T4e proscenium of my life was of the American Navy. He had lost all that ; bright, but the curtain has fallen, and you may it had slipped away forever, and he was in arms snuff out the light as soon as you please." against the flag under which he was born. Lovelace grasped both the pistols by the bar- Thoughts like these crept into his mind. They rels, and stretching out his arm, held them tow- would not be repressed. Nature asserted her ard Frederick. rights, and the love of country was not yet ex- "Take which of them you will," he added. tinguished. " They are both loaded alike. If you will not "It is a glorious banner !" remarked Freder- take my word for it, take out the chambers and ick, pointing to the floating flag. "United, we examine them." might have defied the world to mortal com- " To-night, Colonel Lovelace, answered North, bat." taking one of the weapons, " your word is not " Yes," said Lovelace, abstractedly. to be doubted." "4Divided, we fall," added Frederick, impres- " I thank you," returned Lovelace, in the same sively. quiet and subdued manner that bad thus far "Yes," answered. Lovelace, without bitter- characterized him during the singular scene. ness. '- " A Southern gentleman, in his better moments, f',The South mi apprehends the North," con- knows what honor is. That flag troubles me." "i c s i sr a 'Y 1IS i"' 4 page: 104-105[View Page 104-105] 0IL.ROSE ; OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER' 1)AUG;TER- MILROSE; OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. He made a gesture toward the glorious flag of I little friend, Frederick carried Lovelace across "heSn UniteddStates. the shingly beech to the shelter of the palmet- " Stand yonder,"'he continued, "9so that, in tos, and placed him carefully at the root of, a firing, my face may not be toward it. If I fall, tree, then dispatched the foundling for Peter say to Milrose that my last thoughts were of Rust. ..g er her. " Are you ready, Mr. North? If so, count N The Confederate officer began to revive.A three, and fire on the word three." thrill of life went over him; he sighed, and Frederick paced off twenty paces, and faced and opened languidly his eyes. His gaze rest- Lovelace. Swampsey came up, and standing -a ed on Frederick inapprehensively at first, intel- little at one side, so as to form an obtuse angle ligibly anon. with the principals, winked and blinked earnest- "You still here?" he asked, with considerable ly.I-_ effort. " Why do you linger ? Leave me, as The combatants stood with their side-faces to you value your 'life." the sea. Frederick reluctantly followed the di- " Fear not for me," replied Frederick. reactions of his now generous enemy. He be- " Look around you. You are no longer on the gan 'to count. He was about to pronounce the beach." word, three. Lovelace's pistol-hand had re- "I s' among trees,"° murmured Lovelac gained passive at his side, and he was in the "You must have brought me here. It was a act of slowly raising it, when a shell from one needless trouble, Mr. North. I care not to live. of the Federal gunboats came shrieking over I would that the hungry sands had drank up the water, and burst in the air over himi. In- e 1" ,a stantly his arm fell shattered by his side, and he " This is not a fitting frame of mind for a sank upon the sand. Frederick's shot went soldier," answered Frederick, gravely. "A harmlessly on its way. Seeing Lovelace fall, he soldier should not thus yield to despondency. ran to him as quieklyas he could, andaraised his Nothing is hopeless in the world. There head from the earth. He was insensible, and is consolation for all ; there is happiness for thr blood flowed freely from his wounds. the miserable; penitence for the erring; par- Swampsey came up and looked at him cool- don for the repentant, and compensation for l"Whr syu atrPtr? rdrc every suffering" " Where is your Master Peter ?" Frederick The wounded man looked steadily at Freder- asked. - h,,y r- " Up yon at the house," replied the found- "That is a very good doctrine for those in ling. health and happiness," said the Confederate While Swampsey was speaking, several shots colonel, with a faint smile. "But yournremarks were heard in the direction of the palmettos. were, inwthe main, just. It is ot manly to 64 Mars'r Peter and Mars'r Martin firm' at the whine over disappointments. I condemn as 'Fed'rates," said Swampsey. " Mars'r Peter 'll much as you that mock sentiment that is full of hit 'em, Mars'r Peter will I Better git 'way, cant and drivel. But every man must judge of Mars'r Fred. Car' ye off, them yer fighters his own condition, and of his ability to bear it. will. Don't want to car'd off, do ye ?" When I talk of being tired of life, I mean that, The grave wisdom of the hero of Alligator no more and no less. Three things disturb me: Swamp never displayed itself more conspicu- The loss of fortune the loss of Milrose ; the .onsly than then. , ys loss of honor. To these losses I can well afford " Jf I am carried to the island by those men, to add yet another." I am assuredly lost," said Frederick, thought- He stopped. There was something in his fully.o mind that he was reluctant to speak. He looked at the unconscious Lovelae, and "I thought," he resumed, that I could fight. added : the, Yankees with hearty earnestness; but when "But I must not leave this man. There is I beheld the well-known flag flying n the bar- yet life in him, and if he dies it shall be through bor, I felt a tugging at my heart and a choking no fault of mine." in my throat."- - " The fira' 'a coming' nearer, Mars'r Fred," 'I understand you, colonel. I have nothing sald Swampsey, warningly , to say. Your own heart shall be your monitor. He was right. The Confederates were, evi- Your wounds must be attended to. Your right dently, retreating toward their boat. The young arms seems badly shattered. This sleeve must man hesitated no longer, but taking up the body come off."e of Lovelace, bore him as fast as he could toward "If I lose but my sleeve, it will be but a tri- the palmetto grove fle," said Lovelace, with a melancholy smile. "Wouldn't do that ye " said Swampsey, not "However," lie went on, " you have proved pleased with this act of benevolence. 'lad ye yourself exceedingly kind, and you shall hear. shot, if he'd eard ye over von. Was going' to no more murmuring from me. If my wounds Shoot ye himself wen de rotte shot bust.' are not of too serious a character, I must return Without heeding the remonstranices of his to ilton Head, and take part in the coming ebnftest.- I have, ut my 'hand to the plow, and must not look back. The Confederate officers are confident that they can sink the Lincoln fleet in twenty minutes." " Is this belief prevalent at Forts Walker and 'Beauregard 4"' inquired Frederick. "It is freely talked of, and fully believed in byoficers and men," answered Lovelace. " But it is regretted that so many ships of war should be sunk when the new Republic has so much need of them. But I have been too frank. I should remember that we are enemies. Con- science or no conscience, I must be there, pro- viding my injuries permit, and you do not keep ie under restraint.' " You will suffer i restraint from me," re- sponded Nbrth. " Your wounds, I think, are not so serious as'at first seemed probable. My only desire is to be.of service to you, and to act, so far as I have power, the part of the good Sa- maritan. I cannot forget that you relinquished a crushing advantage to fu'll your word, pledg- ed under entirely different circumstances, and to afford me reparation for supposed injustice. But here come those whose faces are, perhaps, known to you. They will remove you to the house, where your wounds will be properly dressed."' Peter Rust and Mattin Broadbent appeared, guided by Swampsey, who moved along before them with as much self-possession as if war and wounds had been his particular business since' he was fished out of Alligator, Swamp. Swampsey was none of your common found- lings. He was picked out 'of themud, but was never muddled in his ideas, nor disturbed him- self greatly about any one save Peter Rust, who was six feet two, and himself just three feet nothing. Gunboats and batteries were to him of no'more importance than the tall trees of the Pine Barrens. The biggest Columbiad ever cast was not half so wonderful to him as Peter Rust's double gun. Peter and Martin took up Lovelace, and carried him carefully to the house; while Frederick thoughtfully followed, Swampsey making re- mnarkably long, strides at his side, in an imita- tive effort to keep pace with him. CHAPTER XLVII A GRoUP ON THE SHORE. Early the following morning, a boat, contain- ing three persons, touched the island. Those three persons were : Lowenthal, Babel, and Ben Dykes. Like hundreds of others, Lowenthal was desirous of seeing the conflict about to take place between the Confederate forts and the Federal fleets ; hence his visit to the island. The sun was just above the horizon, aild the day promised to be unusually fine. The gun- boats lay quietly in the harbor ; but, with his glass, he could see-that the men were astir. Leaving Ben Dykes to watch the boat, he walked toward the palmetto growth attended by Babel. He loitered among the trees. He sauntered to and fro, thinking of the failure of many of his plans,.and querying what influence victory or defeat would exercise upon his for- tunes. This was not a cheerful employment, and he often listened for some premonitory gun from ship or shore, that, in the more exciting scene of the fight, his mind might be diverted from personal matters far from pleasant. He could not feel that'he had been very successful in his aspirations ; he could not count the gains of his intriguing life; he could not reach out his hand and seize-the object of his ambition. He had built many castles high in air, which he was never to inhabit. - He sighed because he had accomplished so little ; because his pathway had been so crooked ; because villainy had brought no glad fruition ; because dishonesty had been loss, and ambition mockery, and hope delusion. He thought of the motherless girl, her wealth, her plantation, hey negroes, defrauded from her by himself, and conveyed to Markthaler--the keen, the cruel, the pitiless usurer. He knew- how well he knew that he was in the power of that pale-lipped man! He cherished a deadly hatred 'for the money-lender.' He' meant to be even with him yet, He would not be taunted and mocked at mueh'longer. He motioned Ba- belto him. The black giant came and stood before him. The morning sun-rays fell very bright and golden on the sooty face, and the broad chest, and the bare arms of the slave. Those arms were crossed upon his breast ; and on one of them the cotton-planter read, with a strange shudder: BABEL 1860 It was singular that his eyes should fall on 'those characters just then, when he was about to confer confidentially with his property. He inwardly cursed the fatality and its prophecy. How should he communicate with this mute creature ? He thought of a way. He took out his purse, then feigned to put glasses upon his eyes, and imitated the gaitof Markthaler. His dumb devil-nodded intelligibly and continuous- ly. Lowenthal knew that the wonderful quick- ness of the black had caught his meaning. He drew a dagger from his breast, unsheathed it, and holding up the purse, made passes at it with the point. Babel nodded again as apprehen- sively as before, and pointed, to his heart. " Yes," said Lowenthal, momentarily forget- ting.the deafness of his slave. " You are to kill him ; you are to strike him dead i" Babel raised his branded arm, and leveled it toward a pathway near at hand. Lowenthal looked : there stood Markthaler and Milrose. The cotton-planter was never more amazed. lie did not stir-lie did not withdraw his gaze-lie was not certain that he could trust lis sight ~ ; s k li i l fs 7 ' f z f 204 10o page: 106-107[View Page 106-107] 106 MILROSE; OR, THE COTT( The two advanced-the money-lender and Mil- rose., . " You informed me, not long since, that you had something 0to say to this young lady. If you were in earnest, and have not since changed your mind, you can now speak freely." " Not here," answered Lowenthal, quite con- founded. "Let us walk down to the shore. Really, I am confused. Milrose, how do you do, child? What put you to running away? I was infinitely pained by your distrust, my girl. But I shall not scold you. Take my arm." "Excuse me," said Milrose. "It is enough if I walk near you." They proceeded toward the shore. As soon as they emerged from the wood, they saw the "Wabash" moving straight on toward.Fort Walk- er, followed in regular order by such of the gun-1 boats as were going into action. "Milrose," said Lowenthal, sentimentally, " This is destined to be a thrilling day. Before the Lincoln fleet is sent to the bottom, decide- one thing for me. The relation that has existed between us has been but a nominal one. No kindred blood flows in our veins. Marry me I" Milrose stopped ; she looked steadily at Low- enthal. The girlish form assumed a dignity that was new to her strange -suitor. Increduli- ty, pride, scorn, and indignation agitated her thoughts. While she stood thus, beautiful and silent, a thunderous roar from the flag-shipphook the island. It was Dupont's first terrific salute. Milrose peeled it not. The audacity of her mother's husband engrossed all her conscious- ness. Markthaler placed himself where he could see her face, the other side of Lowenthal, and made earnest signs to her, and Jacob, who had just ar- rived, repeated them. " Wait a little," said Milrose,. restraining her contempt. " There is one whom you shall con- sult presently. If that person consents, then you shall hear my sentiments." Lowenthal thought he saw a glimmering of hope ; and he was sure that he saw Frederick North and Angeline approaching. This discov- ery occasioned him infinite surprise ; and he was little pleased with this addition to the party. But other persons were hurrying to the shore, attracted by the roar of artillery ; and he trust- ed that he should escape attention, on account of the thrilling and absorbing interest of the scene in the harbor. He did not feel entirely assured of this, however. He feared that this obnoxious young man would come too near, and, in some manner, cross his purposes. His first apprehension was quite right ; for Frederick and Angeline soon added two more to the little group. " Love o' God, Miss Milly! What ye down here for ?" said Angeline. "'Pears like you run away from the house." 'e:r c s falling upon ,Lowenithal at that in- 'ON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. stant, she recoiled, in the greatest consterna- tion. " Laws, Miss Milly !" she added, in a sup- pressed voice. "Tell ye what! I's cl'ar done scared. If Peter or some on 'em don't take car' on us, we'll be toted right back to the planta- tion. And there's that great silent Babel and Turpentine Ben. Wonder what he wants ? Looks g1um enough anyways I" - Receiving no answer from Milrose, the girl put her sharp eyes into use, and soon perceived that her mistress was unusually dignified, and that something serious had passed, or was pend- ing, between her and Lowenthal. As for Fred- erick, he beheld this intruder with astonishment and secret fear. Seeing ,Milrose, his lingering doubts concerning the identity of the person whom he had encountered in the palmetto-walks, on the previous night, were dispelled. Why had she kept herself aloof, when she, unquestiona- bly, knew that he was on the island,? Yes, it was Milrose that he had met, and Peter,Rust must have been in the secret of her coming. But hecould, not understand so much secrecy. New influences must have been brought to bear. upon her. Something was.in progress that was both mysterious and alarming. Would she no- tice him now-? The question was quickly an- swered. She turned to him with a kindly smile, and said : "Good-morning, Mr. North." "Good-morning, Miss Dorn," answered Fred- erick, bowing. " Your presence here is quite a surprise to me." "And my own, no less," interposed Lowen- thal, with a frown and a menacing glance. "And yours, no less !" repeated Frederick, calmly. "Truly the firing is terrific !" said a voice, which caused the cotton-planter to start as if he had received a blow. Looking over his shoul- der, he saw his overseer, Martin Broadbent, who had hastened to the shore to witness the fight. " Verily, the earth shakes beneath us.. The slaughter will be great." Stand behind me, Jacob," exclaimed Mark- thaler. " Stand behind me, Babel," repeated the planter, mockingly. Then, to Frederick: "You are in time, young man, to see the Lincoln fleet sent to the bottom of the sea. By nice calcula- tion, based on infallible data, the Confederate engineers at Fort Walker have arrived at the conclusion that it wil take just twenty minutes to sink the Yank gu".'hN U. MILROSE; OR, TIE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. 107 ti 3 t I i f r , r v F 4 , 4 . i r t r f t t 2 Y a F A i i t 3 r S r i C CHAPTER XLVIII. wlienever she fired a broadside, he threw a THE ADJUSTMENT. double-shotted somerset. The firing was now tremendous. The very air " The person whom I informed you should Peeled and quivered to the staggering shocks of answer your question," said Milrose, speaking artillery. Huge volumes of smoke rolled upward. with firmness, "is now before you." The Federal ships, steaming up the inlet in an " I care nothing for the opinions of others," ellipse, drifted back slowly by the batteries of answered t te cotton-plaster. 'It is your own Fort Walker, pouring in their broadsides at reg- decision that I wish to hear." ular intervals and with thunderous din, formed "She will speak my decision with equal cer- a magnificent spectacle for the eyes and a dread- tainty," responded Milrose. ful diapason for the ears. "The views of your friends," said Lowenthal, " See !" replied Frederick, with a smile of coldly, scarcely deigning to notice the vailed triumph, pointing with his fingerat the " Wa- lady, "as I have just stated, are not of the bash", which, followed by the smaller gunboats, slightest consequence. If your own heart favors in splendid order, dropped down out of tshe fiery my suit, the consent or-refusal of others will not circle, unscathed. "Your Confederate engi- affect my happiness" neers will have to make another calculation, sir." He paused, and ran his eyes contemptuously "I know which way your sympathies point," over the woman. sneered the planter. ''hen, to Milrose : " Let "But who is this person so highly honored us move a little apart from these people. This with your confidence ?" lie added. " Is it one is somewhat too promiscuous a company for-you. who has any claim to guide your movements? Besides, Milrose, you have not answered me. Have you reposed in her the right to dispose of Even this grandly-exciting, scene cannot make your person -at will? I so, If must hear her, ine forget that it is from your lips that I am to from sheer necessity." hear my destiny." "Laws, Miss Milly !" interposed Angeline, in a ]de pronounced the closing period in a low whisper. "You don't mean to marry him, any- and tender tone of voice,. and offered her his ways !" hand to lead her away. " Out of the way !" exclaimed Lowenthal, "Excuse me, sir," she answered, coldly. "I sternly. " When your mistress needs your ad- can see very well here. This battle, Mr'. Low- vice, she will ask for it," enthal, absorbs every faculty of my mind. It is "'Pears like she don't want to be shut up in terribly sublime ! Do not speak to me." a construction in the top of the house !" retort- The cotton-planter bit his lips, and remained ed Angeline, with spirit. silent. Lowenthal was confused. He was angry, and While all were straining their eyes toward he tried to conceal both his anger and his con- Hilton Head, and watching the magnificent evo- fusion ; but the concealment was so imperfect lutions of the gunboats, Markthaler and Jacob that no one was deceived. slipped away, unobserved. No one saw Mark- le bit his lips, and said, with assumed tran- thaler and Jacob come back; but, after a little uillity : time, Frederick saw Jacob quietly approach Mil- "You should teach your maid reverence, Mil- rose. He whispered to Angeline, who whispered rose." to her mistress. The latter smiled, and made "' Verily, this forwardness cometh of the ad- an affirmative motion of the head. Frederick mixture of the white and chattel races," re- now perceived that the tall lady whom lie had marked Martin, making himself a party to the seen walking with Milrose was standing near the conversation. " Truly the negro may be sub- group. She approached Milrose she took her ject unto man ; but their blood should be kept hand ; she partially removed the thick vail that sacredly separate. The black Saxon, friend concealed her features, and regarded her with Lowenthal, must not know too much. To know fixed attention. The young man observed this, how to cultivate cotton and to know obedience and thought there was much tenderness in her is enough for the slave. Now this girl" (he eyes. But there was something singularly strik- pointed to Angeline) " bath a skin as white as ing about her face that greatly excited his cu- thine, and-thou seest what mischief comes of it. riosity. I'll ,warrant ,she. has watched thy doings well. Milrose turned to Lowenthal ; her companion If thou bast had secrets in thy house, she bath and herself confronted him. Babel and Jacob discovered them. Verily, she hath just spoken moved up a little closer to the central figures of of a prison constructed in thy dwelling for the the group; while the Quaker, with his arms incarceration of a member of thy household." sedately folded upon his breast, watched the Martin looked very serene; but Frederick grand naval drama with an intensity that was thought his eyestlazed up a little brighter tItan quite apparent in his expression. Swampsey usual. was near at hand, ready to serve capers at the The cotton-planter stared at him, and his face shortest notice. The " Wabash" eemed to; flush ed. have particular importance in his ayes ; and "Mr. Broadbent," he stammered," your serv- page: 108-109[View Page 108-109] 109 MTTEROSE ; ORT THE COTTON-PLANTE R'SDATTTTTUGHTER. ices, I believe, are not required here. When I master again. Like Cain, you will go forth to want your opinions, Iwill ask them at the plan- meet your punishment." tation." By an unaccountable fatal y,'the cotton-plant.. " Truly, friend Roscoe, thou art right. The er saw the blabk giant's laked arm, and privilege is thine' to build a prison in which to wordsgan restrain the liberty of whom thou wilt, and to . BABEL, marry the girl called Milrose-whose' surname 1860. is Dorn--even as it is rny privilege to lash, gash, stared him in the face. rpince, macerate, whip, scourge, flagellate, casti- "I Will say little of that room where Peter gate, and mutilate my black lambs I Truly, I Rust was shot, and where he was compelled to 'now my business I The whip is the school- labor. This girl's life was comelle t master of the negro; it humbles, it educates, it was in your heart; you had taken it to be a saves, it subjugates him to man. -Cotton Is companion for your other vices. She was to be King-a purple and bloody king. Yonder thun- immured in that chamber, and had not your derous artilery at Hilton Head is to prove to the wickedness' been checked, Heaven alone knows world that Cotton is King. There could be no how tragic might have been her fate." king if there were no cotton ; and if there were -Lowenthal stood aghast with amazement.. no negroes, there could be no cotton. Verily, "Who-who are you ?" he gasped. friend Roscoe, let us shout, with a loud voice : The lady quietly threw bapk her vail, andre- 'Long live Cotton ! long live the Black Saxons !' vealed a pale, yet dignified face. Pardon this interruption, friend planter, and go "Lookpa see gh I a co. straight on with thy wooing. Be not vexed at she exclaimed; without losing command of voice the volubility of a simple Quaker overseer, whose adereieitolosgo n fi tongue goeth faster than'his lash." and expresio ftor one instant. tongyegeth ste, thal i~s were":Lowenthal' staggered backward, putting out $ly this time, L~owenthal s lips were purple his hands wildly, as if to, keep her at a dis- with wrath. He was thrown into surprise, doubt, tance. and confusion. With all his powers of dissimu- "Woman or devil, begone !" he cried, while nation and self-possession, he was ata los fhowunerror and incredulity were depicted upon his to answer Martin. With a tremor of guilty fear, countenanlce.. he began to see what a man he had about him in "Nay, it is you who must begone," said the Martin Broadbent. 'While he. stood, inwardly woman, in a firm and steady voice. debating, and trying to put 'his'thoughts togeth- "You are my wife or Satan I" exclaimed Low- er in a way to relieve him of this unexpected enthal, greatly disturbed by fear and doubt. embarrassment, the tall valued lady said: - . "I am a creature of flesh and blood, and.the "If I understand you rightly, Roscoe' Low- unhappy woman you once called wife," resumed enthal, you wish to marry this young lady ?" the lady. "I was not lospat sea, as reported, " Nothing can be clearer than your under- but was providentially saved from the wreck standing, in this ,instance," replied Lowenthal, without personal loss. I availed myself of the curtly. "But be good enough, madam, to speak rumor of my death, however, to break a union in a lower tone of voice, as, by some strange that was hateful to me. - But I have not been coincidence"--he shrugged his shoulders, and far from you. I have watched over my daugh- looked around uneasily -" we seem to be the ter, and I have had, continually, a spy near centre of a group of curious persons,- whom 1 your person to watch you, and he has been could heartily wish a thousand miles distant. faithful to his trust."' The devil knows how they came here !" The lady glanced at Babel. The planter scowled most ungraciously for "I shall not inform you who that spy was," one who was expecting a gracious answer. she added, " but you will learn soon enough-- "You wish to marry your step-daughter ?" too soon, perchance." continued the lady, in a clear, calm tone. "Markt aler has betrayed me !" muttered Low- "Miss Dorn knows my wishes," answered enthal, whose terrors now took a new direction. Lowenthal, haughtily. "He is a fool who trusts in usurers ! All this " And I know them, too !" the lady exclaim- seems incredible !" ed. " Thank God ! they will never be gratified. , Lowenthal suffered the keenest tortures of You can neither have her person nor her for- disappointed ambition and thwarted villainy. tune. She knows you, and knows you thor- His soul was agitated like the sea; it fluctuated oughly. Your cunning has been met with cun- this way and that ; its dark billows rolled to and ping, and I will bring you plot for plot. Your fro. He was tantalized by anger and terror. transactions with Markthaler are known to Mil- He saw himself ruined and expelled from his rose and to me. You villainy has reached itsfancied paradise, humiliated and disgraced. culminating point. Henceforth your way is This woman; his wife, had been more adroit in downward. The estate you have called yours, her over-watching benevolence than he in his and which you have fraudulently mortgaged to wickedness. the money-lender, will never receive you as its " Markthaher," repeated Mrs. Lowenthal, " has betrayed you. I have in my possession doing the package, she took from it a gray wig, all the papers and valuables that he has re- a long white beard, and a pair of green spec- eeived from you- from time to time, as securi- tables, which she adjusted to her head and to her ties on sums of money advanced." face with a coolness and graceful self-possession "All ?" articulated Lowenthal, faintly. that were quite wonderful. Lowenthal was too " All!" reiterated Milrose's mother. " And much astounded to speak. Before him was the now, sir," she added, with a glow of indication, pale visage of. Markthaler, the money-lender, " I think you understand whyI can answer for perfect in similitude, and identical beyond per- Milrose. I, myself, an an'answer to your pre- adventure. sumptuous query-an answer so _ irrevocable "Love o' God !" exclaimed Angeline. "'Pears that nothing can soften or mitigate it,"or make like, that money-man. was a woman, after all. it mean anything but "No!" now and forever I Never see sich contraptions as them be, any- Go, sir, and hide your Bead, in"some.place so ways ! If I was sick. abed, and was down with remote that' mnayneverheir of you more. Go, the measles, and wasn't. very well myself, and before I let loose'upon you the.enalties of the wasn't expected to: live, and was give up by law; or,'if law has ceased"'to exist-ia. South the doctors, and I had broke down under'cal- Carolina, before I expose your frauds,'forgeries, amy and bloo pills, I'd say, with my respirin' and drimes'to all who know you,'' breath, that I never see a nat'ral-born -lady At that meinent Peter Rust approached, and metamortgaged like this, noways !" pushing through:the group of persons that sur- Just at that juncture Ben-Dykes pushed him- rounded Lowenthal, quietly presented himself self through the circle, and thrusting his un- before him. The effect .of his appearance was kempt head under Jacob's arm, and turning: it instantaneous' and' palpable. , eI .recoiled, and so as to.command a full view of the gray wig, trembled violently. or the Arst time in his, andwhite, whiskers, and:green spectacles, said, life he experiencefeelings of' real: horror. .For in the, most ingenuous manner: "Goddlemity !" a short space he ceased, to hear the continuous , This was, with Dykes, a simple expression, thunder of ship and battery. .meaning a great deal. of surprise and other "Thought I's planted. in the, Pine Barrens, things. I guess !" said Peter, Oomewhat savagely."Buts "Lookout;there's a trap-door open I" said I ain't oncommon easy to be put out of the way. Peter Rust, warningly. It takes a lot o' lead to it me' down and make " No .more a trap-door nor your own bread- me stay down. Fly up like akickin' horse, I do. trap !" retorted Ben.. " Allers in my mouth, Don't want no greasy mechanical skill jest at that Northern critter Fis. Everybody's isn't. this time, do yegiAllers can be relied on, Petyere Nobody can keep out on't." of the Pines can- I ope that, prison , cdarn 'Ben looked about.with an aggrieved air. i in fust-rate order Pity ys didn't, g st the "Better let it for.a floatin' hospital," suggest youn woman into it. Once fastened up there, ed Peter, 'or a tow o' horse-sheds. It would witout nobody's knowig'gnit, you might ,a had keep. a heap , o' poor animals out o' the rain. unlimited controlof all her property, and no. It's a natural eur'osity, if ever thei'e was a cur'os- uarry n', neither.". ity.in:the.world. mrWhile making this harangue, Peter Rust did' "* "A most: foul conspiracy !" murmured Low- not once remove his' eyes from the face of. the enthal, pressing his hands to his brow. "You planter, whose costeryitiop gradually yielded are all leaged against me. I have been most to more natural emotions, till; terror and rage damnably dupeda" were about equally'mtingld , . g He was.hastening away, when Martin Broad. e" thought you were dead !'" le muttered. bent touched his arm, and:asked : "Not if I know myself," quoth Peter, "Not ' ",Ilast thou no parting word for me, friend' if I know myself, I ain't dead." ,Roscoe.? Have I lashed and gashed, minced The still-hunter frowned, ,and looked wishful- and macerated all in vain?': Shall not eastig&a ly at his double-gulr. Swampey.at that mo- tion,;flagellation, and mutilation have their ex- eat, perceived, thatit wapehighlyproper for. feeding great reward ?" him to throw a double somersault, and threw it Lowenthal .was. forced to stop and hear the with neatness and dispatch. an r valetietory of his overseer. He stared at the tDuped by one, duped by all I" cried Lowen- Quaker like .one in a trance. Had not so many thal, hopelessly., p y people been around himhe would have drawn a, " The friends of the wicked are never to be weapon and laid him-dead at his feet. tested," said the wife ofaLowenthal.e - "Ela ! ElaI" criedMartin. "Marktlaler'shall suffer forthis i" hissed the The planter started at the name. planter. "He shall perish-he shall die igno- " Ela,",repeated Martin, "'approach and paf' miniously." your respects . to this chivalrous gentleman. "I will show you Markthaler," answered the Perhaps thou wouldst like to inquire after hid lady, quietly, making a gesture to Jacob, who housekeeping, and concerning the health of his approached and gave her a small package. Un- favorite dogs." { MILROSE ; OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER. 108 page: 110-111 (Advertisement) [View Page 110-111 (Advertisement) ] 110 MILROSE; OR, THE COTTON-PLANTER'S DAUGHTER: Immediately Ela appeared, and stood before sea, now at Hilton Head; now- at Peter Rust. Lowenthal. The old flag flaunted above Fort Walker. Some " Behold thy chattel," said Martin, struggling deafening cheers came over the water from, the manfully with the stern emotions that shook ships. The smoke of battle gradually lifted. im.n wI have held my temper, and been The thunder of the guns ceased. Port Royal patient with thee," he went on. "Verily, at was ours, and the way was opened to the heart times it hath been hard work to restrain the of South Carolina. And the heart of Milrose wrath -of man, and ,make it subservient to -was open to Frederick ; and smiling and trem- reason. If the slaves remain at the plantations, bling, he passed in torinhabit the charmed cita. it will not be through fear of the whip or affec- del., Hand in hand they walked toward the tion for thee, but from love of thy step-daugh- palmetto trees, and Milrose's mother said "Yes", ter, Milrose Dora, and through advice by me. and Milrose looked "Yes". And so it was settled, Look i the rebel rag no longer floats over Fort and in low voices they talked over the events of Walker. The Stars and the Stripes wave there. this reliable history. The Black Institution will be' in motion before --y some 'strange, magnetic sympathy, Ela to-morrow's sun. The chattels will go and come was wondrously kind to Martin, who thought as they please ; they will flow' into the Federal there was never such an island in the world as camp in dark streams." that island. So it appeared that these two had He paused, then added, 'pointing to the Island. agreed upon something that was mutually " See the Confederates fly! They die not in pleasant: the last ditch, as they swore to perish.. It Swampsey executed a somerset. Angeline, troubles them to find the last ditch., Observe for her part, was glad that " contraptions" and that the negroes on the house-tops and eni- " constructions" had fallen through and" wasn't nenees do not run. But sufficient of this. I of no 'count, anyways." Peter Rust shook have done. Look at this young gt'l whom thou hands with his friends, and congratulating them hast wronged, and go thy way. The time is in a few honest words, took a boat and crossed near when her young face will rise in judgment over to Hilton Head." Ben Dykes waited a long against thee. I could find it in my heart to Jime for Babel to return, but the blpek not rend thee in pieces'; but I- am a follower, coming back, he disappeared from the shore, though afar oft, of the Prince of Peace, and and Frederick saw him no more.- his sublime teachings stay my hand. Go, un- On the following day, all the parties in whom smitten by. me, with all thy sins upon thy head, the reader is interested, except Peter Rust and - God will find the instrument of thy punish- Swampsey, were taken aboard the flag-ship ment, and that soon." "Wabash", where, I am sure, we shall be wil- By a most unaccountable fatality, Babel again ling to leave them in the, gallant keeping of stood in the planter's way, and " BABEL, 1860," Cominodore Dupont. When last heard from, obstructed upon his view, and the characters both Frederick and Martin had accepted com- composing the name and date, seemed to have missions in the Federal army, and were in a sunken deeper into the' black muscles. fair tray of promotion. Peter's knowledge was Lowenthal strode suddenly down to the water, too valuable to be lost to the country ; and since followed by the mute giant., Presently, Fred- the bombardment of Hilton Head he has been crick saw them both embark in a boat. Babel most 'usefully employed in secret service, the grasped the oars, and after rowing a short dis- faithful Swampsey continually attending him tance toward Hilton Head, changed the course on his dangerous expeditions. The yellow Hly- of the boat, and headed it to sea. Frederick perion is with -his mistress at the plantation drew near to Milrose, and taking her unresisting near the Pine Barrens, as devoted as ever. Mrs. hand, watched, with a kind of fascination, the Lowenthal recovered most of her property, and direction of the little vessel. When -he was far as incredible as it may seem, her chattels'were out, so that his form was scarcely discernible so attached to her, that the greater part of them through a glass, the boat stopped, and: they remained. In every emergency she still says, saw him raise a dark body above his head and with unabated confidence : " Stand behind me, east it from hin into the. sea. Milrose shud- Jacob t": dered and trembled, while the tall lady grew It is believed that a double wedding will soon pale and faint. The girl called Ela looked take place at the Lowenthal mansion, and that, away,.and stood a moment with her head rest- Peter Rust and Swampe will be there It is ing on Martin's arm. Even Ben Dykes, Ben hoped that the latter wifisupply them with an, Dykes the dog-trainer, Ben Dykes of the tur- abundance of someisets. We leave Milrose and pentine woods, had a vague' idea that some- Ela with nine prolonged and hearty chee's for thing terrible was transpiring, and walked un- the Union. ' esaily aboijt, throwing anxious glances now at [THE END.] FREDERIC A. BRADY'S CATALOGUE OF POPULAR BOOKS. T MRS. GORE'S NOVELS. I Cecil; or, The Adventures of a Coxcomb. -Price 50 Cents.d Mns. GorE, the authoress, combines moral in- struetion with pleasing romance in this interest- ing tale.-Scottish American. Cecil is fully equal to the former productions of the same writer, and is decidedly a book for our homes ; chaste and delightful.---. Y. Era. Others and Daughters.-Price 50 Cents. Of this latest procd action of this talented au- thoress, we can only say, that like her previous works, it is a pleasing and delightful romance, a book of charming sentiment and refined taste, and presenting a lively and agreeable picture of female character.-N. Y. Dispatch. A production that does honor alike to the prin- ciples and genius of the authoress. By its refine- ment and delicacy of sentiment, and its admirable life lessons, it is just suited to I Mothers and Daughters."-St. Louis Republican. Putles in the Air.-Price 50 Cents. BaRan, of Ann Street, has republished in cheap fsan, Mas. GonE's admirable story of "Castles Iv the Air." In none of her tales has this clever wTiter displayed more of that keen perception of character and close power of delineation which as eminently characterize her. M .13ADY has driae our novel-reading public a service in pre- senting them with this reissue.-N. Y. Herald. IL novel from the pen of Mns. GonE needs no pi ise to commend it to the reading public. [N. Y. Dispatch. '-this is a well-written story. Wit and wisdom sparkle through its fascinating pages. It will bn perused with more than ordinary interest. A smural of practical utility may be deduced from its teachings.-St. Louis Democrat. t Old a Bird to be Caught with Chaff.-"- Price 50 .Cents. This work is written with all the vigor that dis- tinguishes this lady from the many common-place writers of the day. The story is pleasantly told, c and carried on its even tenor in a manner that -- will please those who love to find in a novel that regard for the unities and tastefulness in style so Annie; or, Contentment.-BY Mns. McKEN- much to be prized by a writer who would seek zm DANIa.-Price 50 Cents. public applause.-Home Journal. A well-written story, of no ordinary interest. We do not know that Mns. GonE has penned a It is full of grace and harmony, flowing and un- novel superior to this. The parts are clever and affected in the style. The sketches of characte lively, contrast well with certain touches of and society are more than the ordinary class pathos and scenes . wrought up with great feel- The dialogue is both lively and natural. Alto- ing: and the characters, though not altogether gether it is a story, the style of which will gen- new, exhibit features of sufficient originality to erally please, and the matter interest the reader entitle even those in fashionable life to be con- [St. Louis Republican. sidered as very able impersonations. . This novel gives piquant sketches of character [Legal Intelligencer. and society, and is well written.-.N. Y. Mercury. Any Book in this List sent free of postage to any address on receipt of price. /1 f The Dowager.-Price 50 Cents. The book is very sprightly, and the satire lever and amusing. The characters are well drawn, and MRs. GORE'S experience has produced a most readable novel.-Phila. City Rem. Mns. GOnE's stories are distinguished for their advocacy of some prominent virtue of practical ife, or a keen rebuke of vices calculated to injure the peace of society. It is an admirable picture of modern manners in the higher classes of so- ciety. The author's style is easy and lively. This latest of her productions will be perused with more than ordinary interest. [St. Louis Republican. Percy; or, Fortune's Frolics.-Price 50 Cts. This novel is written with positive power. It may be called a highly-colored photograph j I English society in our own time. This book ml 11 be remembered by the reader as standing out lla strong relief from the dull mess of novels made' n this scribbling day.-Legal Intelligencer. Mns. GonE's novels are familiar to almost eve iy household. They are both moral and high tone I and the virtues with which her heroes and her a- ines are invested are good examples for waywa- d youth.-K. . Dispatch.. This work has received high praise from the London critics, who pronounce it " the most bril- liantnovelof the season."-N. Y.Sunday McrcurV. The Young, Cadet. -Br CA-T. BELLEW.-~ Price 50 Cents. This is a story of life in India, in the Eectt India Company's service, of which the author his evidently had some experience. It is a story in which domestic life in the East, and spicy adven- tures, are interestingly blended, and it is a book that will gratify and well repay perusal. [Brooklyn Daily Eagte. A lively and spirited novel, full of adventures in the. East Indies, &c. There is very little lovc- making in this book, but in its place we have interesting escapes by "flood and fell." A'plea- sant companion to while away the hours. N. . Dispatch. page: 112 (Advertisement) -113[View Page 112 (Advertisement) -113] FREDERIC A. BRAD'S CATA I. Any Book in thistList sent free of postage to any address on receipt cf prioe. MRS. GREY'S NOVELS. Family Failings.-Price 50 Cents. This novel will find much favor with the public; from its pleasing character. It is strictly moral in its tendency and gives a fine and truthful pic- ture of. English domestic life of the higher class. The hero, "Horace Leigh," is a fine character, not over-drawn, and well worthy of imitation-a fit subject "to point a moral or adorn a tale "-yet not without his " family failings," which the au- thor has shown up in a clever manner, as a beacon to warn the voyager off-from the shoals and quick- sands of this life. The.work is worth perusal, and will repay the reader alike for his outlay and trouble.- Scottish American Journal. It aims to represent the hollowness and super-, ficiality off fashionable society, the evils of merce- nary match-making, and the misgry and wrong which the customs of an artificial sodiety cause to_ ingenuous hearts and aspiring souls.. It is a work of more than average power and-interest. [Hone Journal. Love and Pride.-Price 50 Cents. :ew English female writers-of fiction arespoken of more highly by the. English press, than lfns. OREY. The plot of this story is'good, aid wi ed out with admirable skill. The characters are seen in life-like pictures. The impudence and diaboli- cat villainy of the principal heroes can scarcely be equaled, while the heroine is a noble and beauti- fat portraiture. Every chapter increases in inter- esi, until the story comes to a happy conclusion. Ibad it.-Journal. From a brief review of this Book, .we would 3islge that it is a story of much interest,.replete with most stirring and exciting incidents, and eabodying characters drawn more to.thle fethmn is generally presented. in novels. The plot is diaown with great tact, and the interest ~of the reader does not flag until the lastpage is-perused. [1Mobile .paily b e. The Hen-Pecked Husband.-Price 50 Cents. This is a well-written novel, in style above the, ordinary run of fiction ; characters well conceived and well presented, and abounding in sage philo- sophical reflections on social life. The' Englis critics speak of its merits with unstinted praise, and universally agree that its keen and delicate humor, its accurate developments of female char- acter, and its peculiar delicacy of sentiment, enti- tle it to a vary high rank ia modernliterature. [N. Y. Dispatch. ,We de not know that Ma, pGEY has penned a novel superior to this. The parts that are clever andlively, contrast well with certain: touches of pathos and s senos wrought up withgreaf feeling ; and the characters exhibit features of originality sufficient to entitle even those in fashionable life to be conMidered as very able impersonations. Indeed, it is really a very interesting noyel. [ iterary Gazette,. 'II LOGUE OF POPULAR BOOKS. Matchmaking;,or, Family Maneuvres.-- Price 50 Cents. Matchmaking, or Family Manoeuvres, is the title of a new novel by the author of Jilt. It is a capital story, and illustrates in the most amusing manner-some of the peculiar phases of English society.-N. Y. Herald. A work of brilliancy and interest, and a splendid photograph of the subtle diplomacy of female ingenuity., A story well calculated to disabuse the reader's mind of the old fallacy that matches are made in heaven.-N. Y. Dispatch. This is a reprint of a capital and very successful English novel, which will, we are sure, be quite as successful here as it-was in England. - It is writen in the highest style of sensational art. (Fitzgerald's City Item. Angelina ; or, The Life of a Beauty.-Prix s 50 Cents. The author of "Angelina" tells some homely truths, and we wish that they could be read by every lady in the land. Years of misery and unhappiness' might be saved to young girls with heads full of vanity and giddy nonsense by learning the lesson now, that the writer wouhA impress;upon the mind.-Turf, field and Farm,. We havecarefully read this new novel by a pop"- ular authoress, and have no doubt the book will add not a little to the reputation made by other wellwritten works. The authoress is possessed of an undoubted talent, and deeply read in the mis- teries of the human heart.-N. Y. Daily .ra. The Old Love. and the New.-Price 50 Ota. - Tp delineate with minute touches all the lights and shades of male and female character is the writer's forte, and in this task she acquits hor- self most successfully.--St. Louis Republican. One of the most engrossing novels we have taken up for some time. It bears the impress of a master-hand. Its good style and execution are chaste and finished. It is the best novel we have read for months.-Dispatch. The Marrying Man.-Price 50 Cents. This novel, by the author of "The Jilt," be- longs to the class of light romance, and is one of the most amusing works of the kind lately pub-. lished. It abounds. in both humor and senti- ment, each in its turn affording a refreshing cnn- trast to the, other, and preventing the least approach to dullness in any part. The book is well worth the-price charged for it. [MerrLyman's Monthly. It is amusing as well as sensational, including crime as well as courtship. It is a most amusing romance, and is one of those unique productions which keep the mind alive with expectation andC run to the end.-N. Y. Dispatch.
