The sword and the distaff, or, Fair, fat and forty
page: 0 (TitlePage) [View Page 0 (TitlePage) ] THE TM:TA SWORD AND THE DISTAFI ORD "FAIR, FAT, AND FORTY, AT THE CLOSE OF THE REVOLUTION. BY THE AUTHOR-OF "THE PARTISAN," "MELLICHAMPE." "KATHARINE WALTON," ETC. ETC. PHILADELPHIA: LIPPINCOTT, GRAMBO, & CO. 1853. page: 0[View Page 0] Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1852, by W, GILMORE SIMMS, \ In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, for the District of South Carolina. JOSEPH JOHNSON, M D., CHARLESTON, S. C. My AR DR.- -\ I THNK it very Likely that you have encountered, in your early-days, some of the persons of this domestic novel. They are al- drawn from the life, and are suffi- ciently salient, I trus , to be remembered. The humour- ists of "Glen Eberley" were well known personages of preceding generations, here thinly disguised under false names, and fanciful localities, which,I am inclined to think, will prove no disguise to you. I shall keep my secret, however, as a matter of course ; but you are under no obligations to do so, and will please remem- Nj Revolution, and among the generations which immedi- ately followed that event that I am persuaded to' believe page: iv-1[View Page iv-1] \that you will find pleasure even in the perusal of a record so imperfect as my own. I owe so much to your kind communications, and to your own researches in this direction, that I derive great satisfaction from the hope that you will find pleasure in perusing my story, and that it may stimulate your memory into recalling Many things which it may be agreeable to you to resus- citate. With great respect and regard, I am, dear Sir, faithfully, your friend, THE AUTHOR THE SWORD AND TiE DISTAFF. CHAPTER 1. A BRAVE WIDOW. THE provisional articles of peace, between the King of Great Britain, and the revolted colonies of America, were signed at Paris, oi the 13th Nov., 1782. The British forces in. Charleston, South-Carolina, prepared to abandoii that city early in the follow- ing December. , The event took place on the 14th of that month. Prior to this period, the enemy had been confined to the imme- diate precincts of the garrison. The gradually contracting arms of the Americans had established a cordon about them, which they had found it impossible to break; and the rival armies, the one unable to take the Beld, and the other too feeble to force the garrison, lay watching each other, like a couple of grim tigers, who have learned, by frequent combats, to regard their opponents with respect, if not affection. Both were exhausted. Exhaustion, not wisdom, or a better state of feeling, was the secret of the peace which was finally concluded between the 'two nations, and of which, South-Carolina, and Charleston in particular,.was eager- ly expecting the benefits. For more than two years this region was in full, or in partial keeping, of the enemy. The days had been-counted by skirmishes and battles, by fears, hates, anxieties, persecution and blood. The time for repose was at hand. Peace page: 2-3[View Page 2-3] - X 2 , THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. was agreed upon; the British army was about to evacuate ,the city; the Americans were crowding about their outposts, eager to come in. Meanwhile, commissioners from both, were in the city, preparing- for a peaceable restoration of prisoners, chattels and- soil. There was much to be re-delivered, which irked the stom- ach of the British captor, and his allies among the Loyalists. The latter had many fears of meeting with their ancient brethren.- Both the British and .themselves had much plunder which it was becoming difficult to make away with. The American commis- sioners were particularly solicitous in respect to this mater. South- Carolina had already lost twenty-five thousand slaves,(which Bri- tish philanthropy-had transferred from the rice fieldso Carolina, to the sugar estates of the West India Islands; and there were yet other thousands waiting to be similarly transported. But how to conceal them from the lynx eyes of the commissioners, who were studiously attentive to the mode of fitting up the transport- ships,-andtheir accommodations provided for passengers; and espe- cially heedful that they were not too much crowded with the black, for the comfort of the white inhabitants. Such vigilance was the subject of much soreness on the part of those who exercised their charities for the African race, without desiring to give their labours any unnecessary publicity. The anxieties of the one party, and the vigilance of the other, were duly increased as the moment drew nigh for the exodus of the British. It was but three days from this event, when Colonel Moncrieff, of the latter-whose philanthropy on behalf of the blacks had been exercised on a most extensive scale-was surprised by an un- expected visitor. We may add, an unwelcome one. He was sit- ting in his office, books and papers around him, swords upon the wall, pistols among papers upon the table, and with but one com- panion. This was a person of rusty complexion, sharp visage, small bulbous-shaped nose, a low, broad forehead, and sinister ex- pression of mouth and eyes. The latter were of a light grey, ' j, *A BRAVE WIDOW. keen rather than brigt, and significant of cunning rather thA character. The two appeared to be busy in long detail figun out on several sheets of paper, and a confused array o: a ithmel cal propositions. But t;here seemed no difficulty between then the business, which equally interested both, seemed mutually sa isfactory. Over, some of the details they chuckled pleasantly They were thus employed, when the door was suddenly throw open, and a white servant, partly in military habit, appeared : the entrance. "Well, Waldron ;" said Moncrieff, scarcely looking up, " wh: now?" , "A lady, sir." "A lady? Who, pray? What name?" "Didn't tell me, sir-is here, the lady says she must see you. "Well, if a lady says she must see me, the necessity is hardl to be escaped, I suppose. Show her in." The servant stepped back, and the lady entered-a fair an comely dame, scarcely forty, with a fiesh, healthy expression, bright, cheery blue eye, a sweet, intelligent mouth, as indicativ of character as of beauty, and a frank, buoyant expression of courn tenance. Her figure was tall, yot somewhat inclined to embor point, though her carriage was equally dignified and graceful.- The gentlemen rose promptly at her entrance. Moncrieff advancer politely and handed her a chair, which she took with a quiet eas and promptness that showed her to be accustomed to society, Moncrieff was evidently and immediately impressed by he presence. It was quite apparent, however, that she was entirel: unknown to him. Not so with his companion, whose visage pu on a look of blank dissatisfaction at the moment of her entrance which at once dispersed the smiles that had mantled it only : moment before. But neither of the other persons in the ipon seemed to notice his disquiet. He drew apart, and went toward one of the windows, but kept his eye upon the two, with an oblique i. page: 4-5[View Page 4-5] 4 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. glance eminently his own; and his ears were keenly alive to what was spoken. "May I have the honour, madam, of serving you?" was the question of Moncrieff, with all the courtesy proper to an officer in his Britannic Majesty's service. The answer was prompt. In a clear, frank, musical voice, the lady said- "I bring you, sir, a billet from his Excellency, General Leslie, which will fully explain my business. My name is Eveleigh, the widow of the lata Major Eveleigh, who once held the office in your army that you now hold." 'I remember, madam; I had not the pleasure of knowing Ma- jor Eveleigh personally, but his rank and character are fully known to me.' "He'e, sir, is General Leslie's letter., She took it from her bag, and handed it as she spoke. The brow of Colonel Moncrieff clouded as he read. "You will perceive, sir," said the lady, "that his Excellency General Leslie, requests you to see that certain negroes be restored to me, my property, which are now within the garrison--their names are in this paper, and a description of them individually, by which they may each be identified." Moncrieff rea4 the second paper with increasing gravity of as- pect. His male companion crossed the floor to him, and looked over the paper s he read. The widow Eveleigh observed the movement-and the man-with some interest. After ew mo- ments, Moncrieff with something of annoyance in ne re- iharked-- "Why, madam, it is very doubtful if there be any such slaves within the garrison. You are aware that we have been deliver- ing them up, as fast they can be found, to the American Commis- sioners. They may be concealed--" "They; are concealed," answered the lady. "If that be the case, Mrs. Eveleigh," answered the other, with A BRAVE WIDOW. 5 a soothing smile, "we must try and find them for you. We shall institute a thorough search, and should they be found, they shall be delivered to the Commissioners." "I thank you, sir; but something of this trouble may be spared you; and I should prefer-as the ownership of the proper- ty is unqestionably in me, as I have satisfied General L slie-that they be delivered to myself." "That, too, my dear madam, I cheerfully promise, should we find them." "It is the trouble of this search, sir, that I would spare you. I have already found them." "The devil you have, madam!" cried Moncrieff, staiting to his feet, and evidently disquieted,-" and where, pray?" "In the old Hulk, sir, at Market Dock, in company with some two hundred others, upon whom I have no claim, but who, I have no doubt, will find claimants fast enough if they be once exposed on the wharf to the examination of the American Commission- ers." "Ton my soul, madam, for a whig-American, you calculate largely upon the generosity of his Majesty's Government." "Very far from it, Colonel Moncrieff; I calculate nothing at. all upon the generosity of His Majesty's Government. My calculations are all based upon what seems the necessity of the case, and the policy, which His Majesty's officers seem generally to recognize, of performing the conditions of the treaty in good faith. You speak of me, sir, as an American and a. whig;-I am not ashamed to say that I am both; but, remembering that my late husband was a good Loyalist, and a faithful and trusted officer in His Majesty's service, I have forborne, with a due regard to his memory, from taking any active part in -his contest. On this subject, however, General Leslie has been long quite satisfied. I feel proud that I may number him among my friends. You have read his let- ter-it appears to me tha- nothing more is necessary to be said." . .. page: 6-7[View Page 6-7] 6 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. "Well, madam, allowing all this, it appears to me that what is expected o' us, is the delivery, to the Rebel Commissioners, of all the negroes claimed as fugitives-" "Let me interrupt you, Colonel Moncrieff. The Commission- ers are emplo edonly to represent the absent. I am here present. I can identify my negroes-I have done so-and now I demand of you their re-delivery," "But, why of me, madam?" "For the best of reasons, sir. They are entered in the Hulk- book in your name." "The devil they are, madam!" "I forgive your irreverence, Colonel Moncrieff, to myself; but regret that yoir tone should be so disrespectful to his Satanic Ma- jesty." Moncrieff could not forbear a laugh. "Begad, madam, you have me! By what names do you dis- tinguish these negro subjects of yours?" "Here is the list ;-they have been identified by my overseer -s well as myself." "But, madam, I am somewhat curious-pray how did you- yet, no matter! You say, Mrs. Eveleigh, that you have, yourself, seen these negroes at the Hulk a" "I have, sir, and spoken with them." "Then there can be no doubt! But-" Here he paused, looked hurriedly over a pile of memoranda before him, bit the tip of his goose quill, and seemed, for a few moments, to meditate; then turning to his former companion, he said- "McKewn, I must confer with you. Will Mrs. Eveleigh ex- cuse me for a few moments?" The lady bowed herhead, and the two gentlemen left the apart- ment. The brave widow was left alone. 3 t , ' , j THE WIDOW MAKES SOME DISCOVERIES. 7 CHAPTER II. THE WIDOW MAKES SOME DISCOVERIES. "McKEWN!" said the lady in an under tone. She appeared to muse for awhile. Then, looking up, her eyes seemed to be- come interested in the furniture of the apartment, which, as it was that of a military bachelor, was somewhat curious anc contradic- tory in its character. The floor of the room was cumbered with chests, trunks and boxes. The walls were hung with pistols and sabres. Interspersed among these, were sundry articles of unmen- tionable clothing, to say nothing of military, parade, service and undress coats;-Moncrieff was something of a carpet-knight.- Great boots lay sprawling beneath the table. An elegant chapeau bras rested upon it; anc, in near neighbourhood, protruding from beneath a pile of papers, was a pair of pistols of extraordinary beauty and finish. The widow possessed some rather curious tastes for a lady. She rose, took up the pistols, and examined them without any of that shuddering feeling which most ladies would exhibit at the contemplation of such implements. They might well attract the attention of a person not an amateur. The weap- ons of that day were of much more curious and costly workman- ship than ours. There was an antique richness in the ornaments of the pistols which was calculated to gratify the eye. The stocks were quaintly inlaid witL fleurs de Uis and vines, done in filagree of variegated gold. The butts were capped with gold, in the cen- tre of which was an elaborately wrought eye, with a small ame- thyst forming the pupil. The barrels were plain, but exquisitely polished. They were of rifle-bore--the duelling pistol in fact,-a weapon more in use theL than now, and in the workmanship of which much more care and ornament were expended. The in- page: 8-9[View Page 8-9] 8;. TLHE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. spection of these beautiful tools of murder seemed to afford con- siderable interest to our widow. She finally laid them down in their places. As she-did so, her eye was arrested by a paper which lay open beside the weapons. Her own name caught her glance. She uttered a slight ejaculation of surprise, and caught up the paper, which was one of those enormous sheets of dingy foolscap which were in common use at that period. Her interest increased as she examined the writing, and she felt justified in reading it. It afforded her some curious intelligence in regard to the very business in which she was engaged; containing, in fact, a long catalogue of names, evidently those of slaves-Sam, Tom, Peter, Dick, Pomp, Cudjoe, Dembo, Cush, Binah, Bess, Bathshe- ba, and a hundred-more and all parcelled off in sections, embra- ced in brackets, opposite to each of which were the names, also, of their respective owners. To some, the names of places, or estates, were appended. There she beheld her own name in connection with the slaves she claimed. There was something further. A memorandum, against each column, contained a reference to the source from which they had been obtained. She read the name of "McKewn" as that of the person who had put her negroes in possession of Monrieff. There was' Moncrieff's acknowledgment and signatuie. There were McKewn's memoranda with his own handwriting as she supposed, and rightly; and other matters, all in detail, which she saw, in a moment, comprised a large body of conclusive testimony that might be very useful. This, then; was the document which the British Colonel and his companion had been studying when she came in. She laid the paper down in its place. But her lips became rigid with resolu- tion. She hastily seized the document and folded it. "I am dealing,"' she said to herself, " with enemies. This doc- ument may become necessary yet to secure my property. The villains! Shall I scruple when I am in such hands Shall I suf- fer them to defraud my son of his rights, when it is in my power i THE WIDOW MAKES SOME DISCOVERIES. 9 i to prevent them? Away with such childish scruples. It is war ; between us, perhaps, afid I owe them no courtesies, no forbear- ? ance." - - She put the paper into her pocket. "McKewn! McKewn " she muttered. "Where have I heard that name before?" She heard footsteps approaching from without, and hastily re- sumed her seat and her composure. Her face on the l':stant be- came one of singular calm and simplicity. She was a woman evi- dently of equal good serse and nerve, and seemed totally uncon- cerned and unemployed, as the outer door was thrown o-en. The orderly, Waldron, again made his appearance, followed by anoth- er person. He looked about the room for his superior. " He is not here-the Colonel?" he remarked inquiir gly. "He is within," answered the widow, pointing to the chamber to which Moncrieff and McKewn had retired. As she spoke, she observed that the person who followed Waldron, started, and seemed disposed to retire. Her eye quickened with intelligence, but she ceased to look at ;he new party. Asingle glance hadsuf- ficed. Waldron advanced, calling to his companion to follow. "Come this way," said ;he orderly. The person addressed, hes- itated for a moment, then, rapidly moving to the side of Waldron put him between h'nself and the widow. They crossed the room together, and, without reserve, entered the inner apartment, the door of which they closec behind them. Mrs. Eveleigh followed them with acareless but i;telligent glance. When they had pas- sed from sight, she muttered-- "I see it now! Bostwi&k has been the creature of McKewn in this business, as McKewn is the creature of Moncrieff. The un- grateful wretch; and I hlve fed his family for years; his wife and fclhild-when they were sick and starving. Oh! what a frightful, fiendish thing is Poverty, when it is linked with ingratitude!" The widow had discovered, in, the new comer, the squatter on page: 10-11[View Page 10-11] 10 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. a plantation which adjoined her own. The single glance which. she had given him, had sufficed to identify him; and shewas too circumspect to allow him to perceive that she had made the dis- covery. She was satisfied to look no farther. His slight form, sidelong gait, low, swarthy features, and long black hair, which hung down heavily upon his cheeks and shoulders, were not to be mistaken. She smiled sadly as she mused upon the ingratitude, which had been fed at her hands without thanks, and which had robbed her of her property without remorse. Let us leave her for awhile, and become parties in the conference b veen Moncrieff and McKewn. CHAPTER III. ROGUES IN CONFERENCE. "THS is a d-d awkward business, McKewn!" "What's to be done 2" said the person addressed, in rather sul- len accents. "Aye, what? That's the question," answered Moncrieff; "I see no way to escape it, my good fellow. It robs us of some of our profits." "But will you give up the negroes?" "Eh! to be sure! What else? Show me how it may be man- aged, saving me scot-free with old Leslie, who, though three parts old woman, is yet a Tartar when you cross him-and I'm for any remedy. But it seems to me impossible." "Can'twe get off the negroes while you keep her in play?" "Scarcely! She has identified them, and found them entered in my name. How the devil she has done this, I can't see. What could that Hessian, Dort, have been about '?" ROGUES IN CONFERENCE. 1 "He was drunk, I reckon! iHe was the last man to have been trusted with them. I feared it. But, it strikes me that we might run the negroes withou; committing you." *' How so? Remember, my honour as a British oficer--" "May be kept safely, if we can prove that they broke out of keeping and took boat up the river." "Indeed! Half-a-dozen of negroes break away from a score of Hessian guards-" "All being drunk." Unchain themselves-secure a boat, and make their way up the river through a fleet of three hundred vessels of all sizes No! no! McKewn! That won't do! Old Leslie is too shrewd a sold- ier to listen to such a story. My answer would be an arrest and a court of Inquiry. You must think of something better. McKewn remained sulkily silent. "You are gravelled!" said the other. "So am I! I do not see but that we shall have to make a merit of necessity, and the sooner we do so, the better. If we delay about it, we shall have a host of other claimants; and the danger will be, no; only that they will prove three hundred slaves in our keeping, but that some- thing will come out showing how they came into our keeping. You, for example, might be required to explain some queer histo- ries.; My notion is, that we must yield handsomely to the hand- some widow-a devilish fine looking woman, by the way, -with a head of her own!-and, by promptness in her case, avoid the danger of other visitors. We must discharge her chattels and transfer the rest to the "Tartar" before day, to-morrow. By the way, does this woman kn ow you?" "I think not. Her husband did. I have seen her repeatedly, and have been on her plantation. In fact, I am somewhat inter- estec in an estate in her neighbourhood. But this need not con- cern us now. It is a matter of some concern with me, as I am to remain in the country, that she should not know me 'n connec- Ifk H I- I i 1l page: 12-13[View Page 12-13] 12 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. tion with this affair. I shall avoid showing myself when you re- turn to her." "You see no means, then, of evading the surrender" " "None, but that already hinted." "That is out of the question," said Moncrieff, rising.!"I will take the physic without wry faces. But, as soon as she goes, do you see to the transfer to the 'Tartar.'" "It will be well, too," added McKewn, "if you put them un-i der some better keeper than that drunken Hessian." "It shall be done. Well! How now, Waldron?" Atthis moment, Waldron entered the room, followed by Bost- wick, the Squatter, At his entrance, McKewn looked disquieted. Waldron was immediately dismissed. "You here?" said McKewn to Bostwick. "Did you see the lady?" "The widow,-Eveleigh?-Yes!" "Did she see you?" "Don't think! Jest as I caught the shine of her eyes, I dodg- ed ahind the Sargeant. Don't think she made me out at all.-- Did'nt look as ef she did." "Do you know what she comes about?" demanded Mondrieff "Reckon I does, Colonel. She's been to the ' Hulk' and seed the niggers herself." "Remain here, both of you, till she is gone. Take caere that she sees no more of either of you. If she has made you out, Master Bostwick, your best course will be to get into His Majesty's transport, as soon as you can, or she will hang you when thie Re- bels take possession here." "She hain't seen me yit, I reckon," answered the Squatter, though a dubious expression darkened his swarthy visage as he spoke. Moncrieff, meanwhile, proceeded, rather reluctantly, ;hough hurriedly, to give his answer to the widow's requisition. McKewn resumed the subject with Bostwick. / i ROGUES IN CONFERENCE. 13 "That woman has eyes to see through a stone wall -Do you think she got a glimpse of you at all?" ' I seed Ler first, I reckon." "You are not sure?" "No! nobody's sure of nothing, no-how, it seems to me, in this world," responded the Squatter. "Well! Even if she did see you here, it woul&only prove to the rebels that you were in bad company as well as myself. I have my excuse-my reasons, for being here,-wwiich, indeed would silence suspicion; and you being seen with Moncrieff and myself would only provoke- suspicion, not confirm it. We must be cautious, that's all." "Well, now, look you, squire, there's no. caution without money, and I'm mightily needing the article. I must have some, right away." "Why, you had five guineas last week, Bostwick." "I've lived a week since, and fed and drank-"- "Ay, and got drunk upon food and drink. Five guineas ought to last you a month, if you were a sober, prudent person." "Look you, Squire, I'm too bad a fellow to be sober or pru- dent. I aint in love with myself, at all, when Pm sober; and, as for being what you call-prudent, why, the thing's onreasonable. Ef I'd been a prudent person, would you have seen me here? Would I be doing for you all them dirty little transactions?" "Pshaw! you're well enough as you are." "I reckon'd you'd say so. You'll let me have the five guineas, squire?" "I suppose so-for -his time; but the business is nearly done up now, Bostwick. I do not see- that-we can be of much farther use to one another: and all that's to be done, is to close up the old accounts. Don't you suppose that you're pretty well paid up for the past?"' I don't know what you mean by being paid up. I aint any 2 page: 14-15[View Page 14-15] " THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. better, off for all Ive done for you and him. You're pretty rich, I reckon. I'm as poor as a wood-rat." "And whose fault? You've had money. Why did'nt you keep it?" "I've had precious little, any how; and I had to live-me and my wife and children. What I've got, always came by driblets, and went as fast as it came." "You talk of your wife and children, Bostwick, but I'm think- ing they got but a small share of your money. You've drunk it up and gambled it. away, and to keep you in money, when it goes as fast as it comes, is clearly impossible." "I must have it, that's sartain, squire ;" answered the other dog- gedly. "I've, been working mighty hard, and not at good work neither, for a mighty long tin e. You've got rich by my labours. You and he (meaning Moncri ff) got all the niggers-more than two hundred, I reckon. Ef had got for them niggers-all of my bringing-what they focht, or will fetch, to you--I'd ha' been as rich as any." "Yes! perhaps! But without him and me, you could have got nothing for them. He had the ships to carry them off, and the King's stores to pay for them, and, but for him, you. wouldn't hav e had the price of the hair of a negro for your pains. You mMust not suppose, that what you've done, could have been of any se but for us. Still, you have been paid, according to agreement- You're had a good deal of money-" , "In. diiblets, I say." "And st9es--clothes--" "Yes, the King's stores; and ef I was to blow him to General Leslie,. for it, where would he be? And if I was to blow you to the, Rebels, where would you be?" "Pshaw! you might blow to all eternity, Bostwick, and would only hang yourself the faster. You sold me negroes, and gave me:, your titles for them. I have your hand and seal on it, my , . . THE WID 3W BECOMES TROUBLESOME. 15 good fellow-all fair business transactions. Don't be a fool, Bostwick, as well as a knave. Keep your senses as long as you can. You shall have the five guineas as soon as Moncrieff comes back; but the question then will be, how much more you are 'to have? suppose we can present you 'with a good chance of stres which you can sell to the Rebels at your own price. They are monstrously in need of clothes." ' "I hain't made much by what I've sold yit, and I'm jest as poor a man as ever. That ain't reasonable. Arter al: I've done to make a little money, losing my character, and my own right feeling, I oug-ht to have something to show for it." "Well, as the British are going, there will be pretty leavings, and Moncrieff won't stand upon trifles, in helping a fellow that has been faithful to him. If he leaves you stores, which will bring a hundred guineas, you ought to be satisfied. Don't you think sol" "Ef I kin do no better;" was the somewhat sulky answer. "Well, I suppose that something of the kind will be done, and that will settle off for the past. I may give you good business hereafter. Moncrieff's coming now, and we'll fix your affairs for you at once." The approaching footsteps of Moncrieff arrested the conference between the two. Hle soon after appeared, looking excessively disquieted. Let us leave the three for a few moments, while we return to the widow Eveleigh. CHAPTER IV. THE WIDOW BECOMES TROUBLESOME. WE left the brave widow in an apparent calm of mind, which she did not al;ogether feel. She was a person of that tempera- ment which does not affect repose,-to which it is rather restraint - ,. page: 16-17[View Page 16-17] 16 THE SWORDE A'ND THE DISTAFF. than rest-rand which, having grateful performances before it, re- gards delay with disgust, and feels the necessity to wait, as an evil 'rather than a virtue. But the goqd lady had schooled her moods with considerable success, and, i!she felt the feverish impa- tience which prompts one to be up and doing, she was yet able to subdue its exhibitions when these might come in conflict with du- ties equally requiring forbearance. She amused herself, as we have seen, in examining the more curious portions of the furni;ure ] of the apartment in which she was required to wait. We' Lave noticed her examination-of the beautiful' duelling pistols of Mon- crieff, and the discovery to which this examination led. Her eyes X were soon caught by the swords and sabres hung upon the wall. Among these was a Turkish scimitar, with a handle" of mother of pearl, at the sight of which she slightly started. In a moment she had arisen and taken the weapon from the wall. She drew it fairly firom the scabbard, and surveyed the polished and beau-,iful- a blade, unstained and unspotted, with a degree of interest which seemed to arise from other causes than its simple beauty. She n waved the bright steel upwards, with a somewhat gladiatorialair, a then held it before her eyes, and it was while she was thus em- ' ployed, and in this attitude, that Moncrieffsuddenly reentered the apartment. He absolutely recoiled at the spectacle, with an ex- b pression of wonder on his countenance, which he did not seek to si conceal. ir "By Mars, madam, you terrify me! Positively, I must arm i tl myself, and get me a shield. I shall believe in the Amazons after !t this." !el The lady smiled sadly, and restored the weapon slowly and carefully to its sheath. A tear was in her eye, but- it escaped th that of Moncrieff. She said in low tones, as if apologetically- jfr "I know this scimitar, Colonel Moncrieff: I have seen it often, of with its former owner, at my dwelling. It was Major Andre's.)' ve "You are right, ma'am; and I do not wonder at your curios- THE WIDOW BECOMES TROUBLESOME. I 17 y. Poor Andr6! What a cruel fate!--and he, with such tastes, Lch sensibilities, and such ambition!" l "Too much lacking pride, however." "How, madam, pride?" " "Yes; or he had never suffered himself to be put to such base ;es b s "I do not see, Mrs. Eveleigh, that fidelity to one's King, can 'operly be so stigmatized.' "There is a higher fidelity to one's self, one's-honour and indi- dual character. But Le paid the terrible penalty, and we must 4t dwell upon his weaknesses. He had tastes, and sensiblities, you say;-,he loved music and poetry, and could-make the song, d find for i; the fitting harmonies.. He has frequer-tly joined a on the hapsichord, and would forget, at our. evening fireside, the habits of the soldier. He was not fitted for such a life, d he felt it. I have listened to his own self-reproaches, for hav- ; chosen the profession. He did so in an hour of cisappoint- Int--of weakness-and was only not courageous enough to radon it when he felt his unsuitableness for it." "' But, Andr6e was a brave man, Mrs. Eveleigh." :' Yes; in one sense of the word. He had conventional courage, t not intrepidity. He would have shown himself fear; ess in the ht of armies-he would have fought his man without flinching the sight of friends; but he had none of that gladiator spirit- t Hunnish blindness-which belongs to the soldier from choice. d he possessed this quality, he would have disdained the petty ployments which finally cost him his life." 'Well, madam, you have given me something to th'nk upon, ugh I knew- Andr6 well. We exchanged swords ir proof of ndship,--though, by the way, mine was the most costlr weapon the two. It was a genuine Damascus, while this, though a 7 beautiful imitation, is not!" 'he widow looked at the speaker with an unalloyed expression 2 page: 18-19[View Page 18-19] 18 'THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. of disgust. Her glance did not escape him, andhis face was slight- ly flushed, as he added- "Though, of course, the difference of value between the yea- pons was not a subject of consideration. Indeed, if I remember rightly, the first proposal to exchange came from me. It was just when he was about to embark for New-York, with Sir Henry.' He paused, and the lady was also silent. She appeared willing to drop the subject. Moncrieff then promptly recurred to the bu siness upon which she came. "I have made you out the order, Mrs. Eveleigh, for your ne- groes, if they are, as you say, in the custody of Captain Dort." "Captain Dort, sir I I know nothing of him, and have named no such person. The negroes are in the "Hulk" at Market Dock, and their keeper I have not seen." "He is Captain Dort, madam, a Hessian, and the keeper of the "Hulk." Had he not been drunk, madam, you would possi- bly have seen him,-and possibly not your negroes." This was spoken with unsuppressed chagrin. "Here is the order, madam." "I thank you, Colonel Moncrieff. And now that my own affair is settled, suffer me to draw your attention to that of one of; my neighbours, and an old acquaintance. I discovered in the "Hulk," while looking for my own slaves, seven others, who belong to Cap- tain Porgy, a planter on the Ashepoo. They knew me, and I them, in an instant. They implored me to obtain their restora- tion to their owner, and I shall be obliged to you for an order to tlis effect also." "By the powers,- madam, but this is quite too much! One would think that you might be content with having secured your own property." "Not so, Major MQncrieff! We are taught to love our neigh- bour as ourself, and such love can be shown in no better way,' per- haps, than in giving heed to his interest at the moment when we a . THE WIDOW BECOMES TROUBLESOME. 19 attend to our own. Indeed, sir, I do not know but tha-, as a good Christian, I should have thought first of his concerns." "Oh! you are scrupllous, maam! But, in truth, this Porgy is a fierce and pestilent fellow-one of the gang of Marion-who has made himself particularly conspicuous as a malignant. He has certainly no reason to expect favour at our hands." "Oh! surely not favour! The question is one of right, sim- ply. Either these negroes are Captain Porgy's or not. I can prove them to be so." "But not that he has not sold them?" -- His Bill of Sale would show that." (Madam, you should have been a lawyer." "But a little while ago, your opinion was that II should have been a soldier." "Egad! madam, it is difficult to say what professiorn you might not have chosen successfully." "Thank you sir for h-e compliment, however equivocal. But you will give me the order, will you not 2" "Oh! to be sure, if ;here really be such negroes in our posses- sion." "They are entered in the 'Hulk-book' in your name." "The devil they are! It is is strange that people should take my name in vain so eternally. I must see to it. These cursed Hessians, Mrs. Eveleigh, are the greatest rogues and drunkards in the world. I will see to the matter. If the negroes are there, when I make inquiry, I will send you an order for them. Let me have your address, if you please." "I am with my friend, Mri. Merchant, in Church-street." "Mrs. Merchant," writing. "The Merchants are all our friends. And now, Mrs. Eveleigh, as I have already said, if the negroes of Captain Porgy are really in the ' Iulk'--" "You forget, Colonel Moncrieff, that I have just told you that I myself have seen them there," I page: 20-21[View Page 20-21] Z=U THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. Pardon me, madam; I do not forget. But you do not know these Hessians. If they have had the audacity to enter these ne- groes in my name, they will not scruple at doing worse. They will be very apt to hide them elsewhere, the moment they suspect that they are in danger of detection." "So much the more important, Colonel Moncrieff, that I should have the order for them promptly, and before they get wind of their danger.- But, in fact, there is no chance of their doing as you suppose; for, before I came here, apprehending this very danger, I procured the assistance of three vigilant friends, who are now watching every movement at the ' Hulks,' and will follow the ne- groes wherever they go." "Then, madam," answered the British Colonel, with evident chagrin, "I may as well give you the order out of hand." "I shall thank you, sir." "I trust, madam, that your requisitions stop here; for, though very happy to oblige the ladies and to do justice, my interference will make me many enemies amiong these rascally Hessians." "Oh! sir, youRlVl survive thtt danger. But this is the extent of my demands. I have no doubt that there are many other slaves, about to be fraudulently taken from their owners, but I can ad- vance no proof to this effect." "The names, if you please, madam,. of the negroes, whom you claim for this rebel, Porpoise!" "Porgy, sir," was the correction, with a quiet smile; as the lady beheld the evident chagrin of her companion. "Well, madam-Porgy-though both names are sufficientlyl fishy, and of the two, the Porpoise is decidedly the most dignified." "But less fit for the table, sir," answered the widow, as she pro- / ceeded to give the names of the negroes. Moncrieff wrote as she spoke. A few moments were thus consumed; then he threw down his pen, looked at the lady, then among his papers, rose at length with a dissatisfied air, and hurried again to the inner room where THE OVERSEER, FORDHAM. 21 he had left McKewn and Bostwick. In a few seconds he again returned, stiL with a manner of some disquiet. Again he stirred up, and glanced over the papers upon his table, but without seem- ing to satisfy his search. 'Resuming his seat and pen, at length, he finished the order for -he delivery of Porgy's negroes, and rising, handed it with great Politeness to the widow, expressing at the same time, in very stately language, the profound delight which he felt in being able to comply with the wishes of a Lady whom General Leshe was so well pleased to honour. - The widow was not to be outdone in corventional graces. She answered him in terms equally polite and profound; and, with smiles and courtesies, took her departure. He waited iupon her to the entrance. When the door had fairly closed behind her, he gave full expression to his chagrin in a burst of wrath and denunciation. "The d-d cool and confident -creature! Hark you, within there, McKewn, come out!--and you, too, Master Bostwick!-that I may have somebody to curse 'till I am comfortable. We are handsomely bedevilled, faith, and by a woman. But such a woman! In truth, she is a woman, and worth half -he men I know." ' /' . CH-APTERV. THE OVERSEER, FORDHAM. THE excellent lady of whom these words - were spoken, had, meanwhile, quietly taken her place in the carriage which had been awaiting her in the street. The driver was a black, in the livery of Ms. Merelant, to whrom the establishment belonged. 'Mrs. Jveleigh was not its only occupant. On the back seat, Reside her, *' page: 22-23[View Page 22-23] 22 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. sat a white man, who had--held possession while she remained within the qualrters^ofMonerieff. Here, he had studiously kept himself from being seen, but had not been the less disposed to maintain a vigilant watch upon all without. He received the wiow', cn her return, with a manner which was equally attentive and respectful., The appearance of this person was that of one i who had not been accustomed to a place so distinguished. He was not abashed, but awkward. He was evidently a backwoods- man, in'humble'life, wearing the costume of the woodsman of that period, a rathler snug fitting-suit ofblue homespun, with a sort of hunting shirt of the same colour and material, though without the customary fringes which made it the military garb of the for- estrangers, or militia. His face andhands were well embrowned by the sun. The latter were large and rough, and had been well exercised -in splitting their two hundled rails per day. The fea- tures of his face were'large and rough also, but mild, and full of, honesty, His great blue eye was expressive of much benevolence, but mixed with a decisive and earnest manline ss. The widow ad- dressed him as Mr. Fordham-nay, she called him "Fordham,' familiarly, without the prefix, and it did not at all lessen his defer- ence, this freedom. iHe was, in fact, the overseer of her planta- tion, and had been the employde of her husband. A long expe- rience had perfectly assured them both of his fidelity and worth. That,the widow had chosen him as her companion, on the present occasion, was due to the objects she had in view, and to the neces- sity of the case. He had been the agent who had successfully discovered the place in which her negroes were confined. By his scheming, the Hessian guards at the "Hulk" had been drenched with Jamaica, and access had been procured to that prison, and to the books which identified the slaves with their several British ap- propriators. In this business he was much more efficient than any of the more eminent friends of Mrs. Eveleigh could have been; and the work being an unpleasant one, she had preferred to THE OVERSEER' FORDHAM 23, employ a pirson whose services she could compensate, rather than those who, however well pleased to serve her, would yet have found the particular duty somewhat disagreeable. But the good lady, though an aristocrat, was not disposed to underrate Mr. Fordham, as a friend, while employing him as her overseer. She really re- spected the man, and, as he never trespassed upon her indulgence, she felt that she might safely honour him with her friendship, as well as her interests. "Well, iorldhamn," she said, as soon as she had taken her seat beside him, I if you have kept your eyes about you, you have, probably, made a discovery."' - "Indeed I have, ma'am! You mean the squatter, 3ostwick." "I was not mistakern in the fellow, then! You saw him?" "Oh! yes, ma'am; there's no mistaking such a fellow! He came up soon after you went in--pushed in without knocking, jest as ef he was at his own home. But, did he see you, ma'am?" "Yes; but I rather think he 3believes that I did not see him! Are you sure' that he did not see you l. "Quite sure, ma'am. He never once looked this way, and seemed a little beflustered and in a mighty great hurry. I reckon he's found out what we've been after. He's at the bot;om of this business." "I have no doubt .of it now. Yet, who could have believed it?-that the wretch could be so ungrateful-and hit's wife and children living, as it were, out of my hands " i "He's jest one of that very breed, ma'am, that does this sort of things. No good ever comes out of sich a cre'tu-: no more than out of a snake. Warm 'em as you please by your own fire- side, and feed 'ema kindly out of your own hands, and it makes no difference. Once warm, they're sure to bite you. All their var- tue, they seems to think, lies only in their venom. What will you do with him, ma'am?" i "I don't see that any thing cAn be done with him. The proofs h prof page: 24-25[View Page 24-25] 24 ' THE SWORD AND TIE 'DISTAFF. against him are, at present, only in our suspicions. Besi(.es, for the sake of the poor, broken-hearted womnan, his wife mind his wretched children, I prefer that he should go free." "Why, yes, ma'am, if one could be sure that he would do no more. mischief. But you're not sure of sich a cre'tL' a lminute. V{e's always at something wrong. 'Twould be a monstrol s sight better for hiswife and children ef he'd clear out with the British. He's as good as one of 'cm." ' "Perhaps he may." -' A good riddance then for all. But Lynching might be of help -to him before he gods." "Nay, I'm not su-e of that." "'Twould hurt lim then, and that's, anyhow, a's muc'a as we ought to care about. But, one thing, I'll tell you, ma'am, Ef he don't clear out when the British go, he'll be of trouble to us yit. We'll have to keep all eyes open, ef he's to stay in the country." "I must use your eyes then, Fordham,' for this purpose, as I have done for so long a time already. I have every confidence in your vigilance and ability, Fordham." *' You may rest on me, ma'am." "Thank you, Fordham. I feel sure of that. I neec not tell you, Fordham;,that I have the order for the negroes." i "Captain Porgy's too, ma'am?." "Yes, both." "Good! It must have been like physic to the British Colonel to, have to give 'em up." - Yes, indeed! But here are the orders, both for Capt. Porgy's ' and mine. You must take the negroes into your own k-eping- take them to Moore's house, (up the Path,' and Moore and his two sons, will take turns with you, for a few days, in watching them. -'We will keep within the garrison 'till the Brit sh troops leave, and our own people march in, and shall then escape any dangerl from detachments about the country. In a week or ten I , . I MTHE OLD ROGUES'MAKE NEW. PLOTS. 25 days we may depart safely. I will leave town with ) ou Here we are, at Mrs' Merchant's. You will take the carriage and go at once to te 'Hlk.' y fiends tere, iles, Johnon and Stur- gis, will help you to procure the negroes, and here is General Les- lie's order for keeping them in your possession undisturbed. I will get the protection of our Commissioners also, wlho will be in town to-morrow. Now, Fordlanl, I leave all in your hands. Good morning." ., CHAPTER VI. THE OLD ROGUES MAKE NEW PLOTS. "MAr'the Foul Fiend deliver us from-such a woman!" was the exclamation of Moncrieff, as his two confederates entered the apartment; and he swore terribly as' our army did in Flanders.' "W hy, what's the matter'? any thing more-any thing worge?" demanded lMcKewn. "Ay, indeed!" answered Moncrieff, busily looking among his papers-and he told of the further requisition which the widow had made for the negroes of Porgy. a "But you did not give them up?" "How, the devil, could I help it?" was the fierce response of th'e British Colonel. McKewnl was almost as furious. I'd have seen her d-d first!" cried the other. "Oh! you would, would you? but she would have had the negroes, though you d--d her into the deepest part of your own future dominions." And he then told of the precaution taken by the wily widow-- how she had placed her friends in watch upon the "Hulk,' leaving page: 26-27[View Page 26-27] 26 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. , them no opportunity for evasion. Fbr the time, they w(re in her power. "Iwould have baffled her if the thing could have been done; but I saw no way of escape. She has the order, and ii will not Be long before the negroes are in her keeping." Moncrieff and McKewrn were equally savage. Bostwick, who had nothing to lose, and could not be made to disgorge, was com- paratively cool and indifferent. The anger of the two foimer hav- ing subsided a little, they began to congratulate themselves that the matter was no worse-that they had got off, in fact, so easily. The requisition might as readily have relieved them of two hun- dred as of twenty negroes. The question with them was, in what way to save the residue. The widow had only to re)jort what she knew, to the Commissioners of the American army to wrest from them all of their ill-gotten fugitives. Fortunately for them, the Commissioners were not then in the city. They Wiere in the American camp, procuring all possible forms of proof :or the ie- clamation of the goods of citizens. They might, and probably would, return to the city, in the space of another day and the first object with our Arcadians, was how, meanwhile, to secure the rest of the stolen negroes. But the parties interested' had their mode of operation, and were not without experience. It will suf- fice here, if we mention the fact that, but very few of th- two hun- dred remaining in the "Hulk," after Mrs. Eveleigh h d secured hers, were ever restored to their owners. The next irorning, at dawn, found the "Hulk" empty, while one of the transports had hauled out into the stream, ready to depart at a given signal. To arrange these matters, our companions needed little discussion. "And'rnow," saidMoncrieff, "now that we have resoved what is to be done, I will give you the order without de ay. That drunken rascal, Dort, must be relieved of all such trust, in future. This woman, through some of her friends, has practised upon his love of Hollands. She had never got a peep at those books other- THE OLD ROGUES MAKE NEW PLOTS. 27 wise. We must give their charge to Witsell. Do you keep herd, McKewn, and see that Bostwick does not expose the beauties of his face until I send Waldron to you. He will tell you if the coast be clear. For his own sake, it will not do to identify him in my quarters. Indeed, I dont know but that my own character needs the same precaution. You are not,- Master Bostwick, the handsomest piece of humanity that the world has witnessed." "1 am jist as God made me, Colonel Moncrieff," responded the Squatter, sulkily. "Pooh! pooh! Bostwick, that's all a mistake. Do you suppose that God made you at all? If he did, do you presume to say that you are in just as good condition as when you came out of his hands?" "Ef I'm changed for the worse, Colonel, I know who has helped to change me ;" and the fellow's eyes looked alternately to his two companions. "What! you would give us the-credit of your bad improve- ments; but you know better, Bostwick. We found you-as you are, a ready made rascal, my lad; and employed you in a busi- ness for which your education was complete. But you want money, McKewn says? Well, we must give, you a little. Five guineas you say? There it is. And now, Master Bostwick, you are pretty well paid. In fact, considering our losses this morning- the seven of the widow Eveleigh, and the seven more of the rebel, Captain Porpoise-seven, is it, or six?-where the d-1 can those memorandums be?-I say, considering these losses, you are some- thing overpaid. But we won't be tight with you, my good fellow; and, as McKewn hints, I will leave you, at parting, a tolerable supply of stores with which you can do a clever little business, hereafter, with your rebel friends. How does this plan suit you?" "I reckon it must do, Colonel." , "Do! By , my good fellow, you are about the most un- grateful, and not easily satisfied scoundrel of my acquaintance F' page: 28-29[View Page 28-29] 28 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. "And it's a mighty large one too, I reckon " was the answer of Bostwick, with a grin that seemed to show that he Vas fully conscious of the sarcasm contained in his reply. "You are right, my handsome fellow-many rascals In it, no doubt, but no one, by , who seems so little grateful bor little favours as yourself. But, where, the d-l, are these nremoran- dums? Have you seen them, McKewn?" You mean those of the negroes?" "Yes; to be sure! I had them here but a while ago ;j' and as he spoke, Moncrieff looked suspiciously at Bostwick. 'He tumbled over the papers on his table, but without effect. He faile i to find what he sought. McKewn interested himself also in the search. "Could the widow have laid hands upon them?" he suddenlyi asked, with sonie anxiety. "No! Impossible!" said Moncrieff, and his eyes agair. glanced at Bostwick, who sate sullenly beside the fii\e-place, looking down upon the hearth. McKewn' also glanced i the same direction; but his mind reverted again to his former suspicion. "If the widow has laid hands on them, it will be a ')ad busi- ness " said he, apprehensively. "Pshaw! she wouldn't have touched them for the world. A lady, McKewn-a iady." "If she did take them, there's no way of getting tLem from her." ' "I should certainly be the last man to think of demanding them. But, continue the search, McKewn. Look among the pa- pers in the other room. I must hurry off to Dort, and see to this business." When he was gone, McKewn exclaimed- "Lady or no lady, I'll lay my life, that woman has pocketed the papers!" , "What papers?" asked Bostwick, indifferently. "The papers that will hang. you like a dog, fool! The memo- THE OLD ROGUES MAKE NEW PLOTS. 29 randums of all the negroes brought in during the last month, and who brought them, and whence they were taken. My name and yours are both upon the paper." "Who put 'em there? I can't write. You must ha' done it." "So I did. I had to keep your accounts as well As my own, with Moncrieff. Look you, Bostwick, we must find out if she's got them, and if she has, we must get them from her, or the country will be too hot to hold us." "I don't see. There's a paper, you say, with your name and my name; but any body can write my name, and I'm not answer- able if I don't write it myself. I reckon, if there's anybody in danger, you're the man." "You reckon so, do you?-as if my evidence won't convict you, should the paper convict me;-for I must show how the ne- groes came- into my hands. Don't be a fool, Bostwick. We must get those papers!" "Well,--how? I'm agreeable to any thing." "I'm glad to hear you say so, and to make the necessity seem more reasonable to you, let me hint that we must rot only get the: papers back, but the negroes. They're as good to you as ready money." "How can it be done?" asked the Squatter. "I must find out when the widow and the slaves leave town. You can easily pick up half-a-dozen of the fellows of Huck's gang, can't you?" "For good pay, and the guineas in hand, I reckon." "You shall have them. If we can find out wher she leaves town, you can intercept her and recover the papers and the negroes. We shall have a transport sloop at the mouth of the Edisto, off and on, for the next two weeks. In that time the negroes must be off for the plantation, as they will be wanted pret;y soon for breaking up the rice land. If you can recover them, you can 3* . ,^ page: 30-31[View Page 30-31] 30 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. push down the Edisto in boats, where Barton and Dr immond will be-on the lookout for you. Do you see " " es-cl'ar enough. But there's no gitting the boys without the guineas in hand. I'm rather owing them something now, and' they won't b'lieve me unless I kin show them the gould.' "You shall be provided. Leave it to me to procure the neces- sary information, while you go and pick up the refugees. -Half-a- dozen stout fellows, in all, will probably answer, and you, yourself, can make the sixth man. The fewer the better. They re more manageable,and the pay will be larger to each. When you have engaged youir men,. promise the cash, and come to mi for the oney." Waldron at that moment entered. The &volonel says alls clear, Mr. McKewn' "Then I'm off ;' said Bostwick. "I know where Dicr Norris and Rafe Burke keep, and they can show me the other rlen. I'll come to you at your own place to-night, Mr. McKewn." "Very good, only be sure and keep sober. You will need all your senses." I'll walk a crack with you any day," answered the otiie as he hurried out of the room with Waldron. For a moment after his departure, McKewn sate musing. Then, appearing to r cover his thoughts, he proceeded anew to search for the missing papers among. the piles which lay upon the table. "I'll look," he muttered, "but something tells me that woman has got them. She may do mischief with them, and, inluckily, it's just in her neighbourhood now that most of my int rest lies. There's that estate of Porgy: my mortgage covers h;s land.- There's Gillon's, which I've bought out and out-al, as I may say, alongside of her. If' she has the papers, though they rnay abso- lutely prove nothing certain, they prove too much. She will hardly make use of them now. The: British going out, and the Americans coming in, will cause a stir for sometime, an. she'll be ** ' .' NEW ISSUES BE'T'WiN OLD ALLIES. 31 quiet 'till all the hubbub's over. Then!-But tha; will give us time, and time is half the capital of a wise man. She's a mon- strous fine woman. What an eye she carries in her head! What, a head! I must see her again! She has fine estates, almost joining those I got of Gillon." We need not follow him in his musings. Enough to say that his search was fruitlessly continued, for some time longer, after the missing papers. CHAPTER VII. NEW ISSUES BETWEEN OLD ALLIES. SATURDAY, the 14th of December, 1782, was the day, memora- ble in the annals of Charleston, for the evacuation of that city by its British conquerors. They had held possession of it for two years, seven months and two, days. Painful to them was the ne- cessity of departing from a region in which they ha been so suc- cessful in combining profit with pleasure. They had spoiled the Egyptians with a vengeance-had luxuriated in their flesh-pots for a long season, and naturally tore themselves away wi;h reluctance. Nobody suffered more grievously from the necessity than our thirsty Colonel of Engineers, Moncrieff. Yet, no one, probably, had so successfully engaged in the business of ' appropriation." His portion of the spoils, in negroes lone, is estimated at eight hundred. These had been shipped, at various periods, for the West India Islands, as soon as it became obvious-to all that the -war was about to close, and the evacuation was inevi;able. Fully page: 32-33[View Page 32-33] 82 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. two hundred slaves, as' we have seen, were about to accompany his departure, all to his credit; the profits of which, in somei'degree, served to alleviate the disquiet that he felt at the discontinuance of a career, the fruits of which had been so abundant. In respect to these, there was a final conference between himself Ped Mc- Kewn, at the dawning of the day assigned for the exodus of the British. McKewn sought the British Colonel in his chamler, and while the latter was yet yawning dismally, not thoroughlyi awake, at once .over his own broken slumbers, and the cheerlessness of the prospect, the former opened the last interview that was des- tined to take place between the part'es, by a somewhat ab: upt re- ference to the one matter which par-icularly concerned himself. "You have not found the memorandum, Colonel?" ' ' "No, d-n it, it is gone, certainly. I have searched everywhere but in vain. Your rascal, Bostwick, has it, in all probability. I can hardly peysuade myself that the woman took it. She is too much of a lady." "Thatmay be, yet I doubt; and, indeed, IFm not so su:se that, even as a lady, she need have any scruples at putting in hell pocket a document which -so much concerned her own interest." "Ah! and that's your opinion?" said Moncrieff, yawning, with an insolent contempt in his manne-. " But, permit me to say, McKewn, that your habits in life, a-nd business, are not, perhaps, the best calculated to make you a [udge- in such matter{. The rules which govern the conduct of ladies and ge nleman do 'not necessarily occur to persons in trade. They are, perhaps, almost exclusively understood by those only whose'life firom the beginning has been in society, and among that class which fids its chief oc- cupation in this very study. Now, you are a shrewd man of bu- siiess, McKewn--devilish shrewd asa Aman of business--o-:ae may say wise, indeed,-certainly, monstro As knowing--- ut you ,rill ad- mit that you -have paid bu-t small attention to the affairs o: polite society. You cannot well understand them, my good fellow.- NEW ISSUES BET'WEEN -OLD ALLIES. 33 Permit me to repeat that Mrs. Eveleigh, who was born in the pur- ple' chamber of aristocracy, never could have taken t-ais paper:- never! never!" McKewn's brow became contracted as he listened to this offen- sive speech. It betrayed the contempt, without any desire for concealment, with which the insolent Briton regarded him. -All motives for concealing this contempt were at an end. The inter- course was over between them. The orange had been fully sucked, and McKewn could no longer be of use to the avarice of his em- ployer. He felt all this; in an instant, bqt it was- not his policy to express the indignation which it provoked. A sharp sarcasm, in-, deed, almost forced itsv way between his teeth; but he crushed them together, at the peril of his lips, and held his peace until the impulse was over. Then he slaid, quiet!y- "Bostwick, I know, could not have taken the paper, for the scoundrel can't read a syllable, and knew not that s uch a paper was in existence. The temptation to the: widow, EReleigh, was great, and if she has it in her possession, the affair becomes a very serious one to me." "Why, yes," rejoined the other, with an air of ;he greatest sang fioid, " it might hang you, McKewn." "Hardly that; but it would ruin me." "You have managed badly. Why did you invest in real estate? How could you expect to make away with it? Holy could you expect to remain after our departure? Whether this paper arises or not, you are surely committed irrevocably with the rebels.- Here you have been a contractor for the British- army--you were one of the addressors of Sir Henry--an unforgivable offence. That you are a creditor of some of the rebels, and hold mortgages up- on their estates, iare only additional reasons for the confiscation of your property, and the endangering of your personatsafety. It has always seemed to me the greatest folly that you should think to remain. It is not too late to determine more wisely. Abandon page: 34-35[View Page 34-35] 83 - .- THE 'SWORD A-ND THE DISTAFF. these villainous acres, these liens, waich will be wholly worthless to you, and get yourself aboard the fleet before the. army moves." McKewn seemed to brood upon the suggestion for a f, w mo- ments, then I oking up suddenly, replied-- "No O it is now impossible. I should be a beggar else where. My whole capital consists in these lands, and -these liens, aid my whole stock in trade. I must take my chance. I do not think that my debtors, though rebels, will take advantage of may situa- tion and but for this accursed. paper--', "Oh! d-n the paper! Let's hear no more about it! You see my desk there. It contains the only papers in my possession which I haye not destroyed. - These will go with me, and corn nev- er rise against yo:i . I can say no more on the subject. I repeat, you are an idiot if you stay. You cannot hope for safety. Take to the fleet, and be aboard as soon as you' can. Thiis is ay last and best counsel." McKewn longed: to utter the savage answer which he could have spoken--longed to snap his firgers in the face of the inso- lent Briton, and tell him that while ie fancied that he used him, he was himself used-that he had guarantees of safety of which the other did not dream, and which, had he known, woul I have probably, ensured -him a Bitish, quite as soon as an Anerican gallows ;-but the moment for such daring had not come y sev- eral hours. He reserved himself for this rlAtion -o the nr oment when the6-American army was fairly within the city. A slight smile: therefore, was employed to" shadow his future purpose.- Moncieff did not perceive the- sinister meaning of this smi .e-- he aidded---rathercontemptuously than xindly--- K "If you-reject my counsel you 'wil deserve your fate. Yet, I assure ydu, McKewn, it -will-distress me to hear that so shrewd a businesslmana has been suddenly- made to rid-e a wooden horse, and uprovided with stirrups."- r 4 a X 7 o 8 PPs . n r NEW ISSUES BETWEEN OLD ALLIES. 35 "I see that you have nothing farther for me, ColoLel;" was the only answer of McKewn. i "No, my good fellow, nothing- Take yourself owf, now, while, ! make my toilet. There is thetmorning gun. You can see me on th march if you desire it- ibut i' faith, theceremony of parting is usually so dismal and distressing,' that do not' know but we may well dispense with it. At all events, for the present, McKewn, good morning--good morning." "The selfish and narrow-minded scoundrel!" muttered Mc- Kewn, 'as he'slowly-wound his way down the staircase. "What a bore!" exclaimed Moncrieff, as the other disappeare. ' "With his d--d memoranda! What do I care if they do hang him! . That he should presume to know the laws of honour for gentlemen or lady. He deserves to be hanged for that, if nothing else. Ho! there, Waldron 1'" And iinging his bell furiously, our excellent Colonel entered upon the duties of his toilet. Meanwhile, the business of the day was fairly begun in the American camp, and within the lines of the garrison. By a plan previously agreed upon between General Leslie of the one, and General Greene of the other army, the Biitish column was to be in motion at-the firing of the morning gun, withdrawing from the lines, near Shubrick's farm, and moving through the city to the wharves. At the same moment, the advance of the Americansi under General Wayne, who had been slowly. approaching from Ashey-Ferry where Greene's army lay, was to follow slsowly upon their footsteps, until the city, abandoned by the one, should be fully occupied'by the forces'of the other. The Fleet of the Bri- tish, more than three hundred, sail, lay at anchor'in the roads, stretching, in a beautiful crescent, from Fort Johnson 'to ive Fathom Hole. '"It was a grand and pleasing sight," says old I Moultrie, who accompanied Greene in- his triumphal entry. 'Not less pleasing to the war-worn and returning patriots, and the brave page: 36-37[View Page 36-37] Vv JLjnti SH WRiU AND T'nH DISb'l'AFJF-. and glorious Dames, who cheered -;hem in their weary Struggle, was the progress of the troops of -he conqueror, sullenly retiring from their places of pleasure and pasturage. The windows, balco- nies, housetops, in all the principal streets, were crowded with happy smiling faces, beholding with, equal joy ;he departure of the one dynasty, and the reappearance of the other. At an early hour of the day the embarcation of the British began, bu.; t was not till'near "A M., when the, rear guard began to file, with mea- sured steps, through the centre of the-city. Wayne's dets hment, consisting of three hundred Liglt Infantry, twen;y artillery with two six pounders, and eighty of Lee's cavalry, following them at an interval of two hundred yards only, constituted the ad;ance of the American army. It was a novel situation for both pirties to approach to sucL propinquity, yet forbear from blows; and the British evinced no small feeling of disquiet, as, in the im'patience of the former, to obtain possession-of that city for which they had so long been striving, they pressed forward at a pace which promis- ed to unite the two armies in one indistinguishable mass. ' This must not be," cried a British officer, riding up to -he head of the Americans, "you are too fast upon us, gentlemen-you press upon us too closely." The American General was compelled to call a halt--aad then the shouts rose from the housetops and the balcories, whi e trum- pets blaied, and a thousand palme;to banners were flung out in air as the cry went up- "Welcome, welcome home, brave hearts! God bless y ou, gal- lant gentlemen!" "How the Brutes howl!" muttered Moncrieff to one wh, at that moment jogged his elbow. "Ah! is it you, McKewn. You are just in time to say farewell." "But I shall not say it, sir;" was the reply, in a tone, a id with a manner which at once drew ,the astonished attention of I;he Bri- tish. officer. , NEW, ISSUES BETWEE1N OLD, ALLIES. 37 "Eh what's the matter now?" "Read that at your leisure, Colonel Moncrieff," said McKewn, handing him a billet where he stood, curbing his chafing steed, beneath a low balcony near Chalmers, in Meeting-street. Mon- crieff took the paper, and proceeded to open it on the spot. "It will teach you, sir," continued McKewn, "that you were never more my tool than when you thought me yours!" With these words he disappeared within the dwelling before which the scene took place.- Moncrieff, astonished, looked about him, but not seeing the speaker, he turned to the billet.- In a mo- ment his eyes- glittered with sudden rage, and in the, next instant the voice of McKewn from the balcony above gave new impulse to his fury. "Rather a new feature in the history, Col. Mbncrieff!" "Ia! villain, but you shall, not escape me!" and, thus speak- ing, he dashed up to the balcony, which, on horseback vs he was, his drawn weapon might have reached. But the side-walks were covered with spectators, whi were not disposed to give way, and one of these, an old man with a great white beard, but Sturdy ard fearless, grasped the bridle the horse and forced him back. At the same moment; Major Barry hurried forward, threw himself be- tween, and drew Moncrieff away. -The procession was again in motion. "What are you at, Moncrieff?-this will never do. A- single rashness will bring their whole force upon us, and three-fourths of our army are already embarked." "D-n the scoundrel!" was the exclamation of Moncrieff as he suffered himself to be led away. "I would give fifty guineas for a chance at his ears!" and, glaring as he spoke, like a hyena, at the balcony where McKewn stood, the centre .of a crowd of men and women, he was answered by a grin from his former ally which added an hundred fold to his vexation. The concourse beheld this singular scene, and many of them heard the language which the 4 page: 38-39[View Page 38-39] 38 , THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. British Colonel had employed. "he circumstar ce raiser McKewn inconceivably in their estimation. The man who had' provoked the ire of Moncri4eff, -was necessarily, in that period and place, a patriot. But the procession moved on, and the parties were soon separated. The clamours inereased. The zrumpets rang forth more merry peals. As the rich scarlet uniforms of the British disappeared in- to Broad-street, great festoons were swung across Meeting, which they had left, and-the crowds increased in the balconies. Then, as-1V Wayne pressed foiward with his blue coats, in- double quick timei the shouts went up in redoubled peals. Rolled oi-ward the solemn artillery--gallopped :forward -the gay aorseman of Lee's squadron- --while the roll of drums in the distance announced the gradual ;approach0 of the main- army of the Americans. At 3 P M., the -rear guard Annoounced tie approach- o General Greene; the Governor-of the State, Mathews; with' the Council or State; closely followed by General Gist and the brave old MoIltrie, and accompanied by a-noble civic procession. This -cortege halted in Broad-street, opposite the spot now occupied by the Ban i of South Caroliiia, and the-shouts of welcome which hailed the appearance of the defenders of the country, announced-the final embarcation of the foe. - Trumpets sounded merrily-drums rolled firm a hun- dred conspicuous points, and the cannon belched forth th3ir mighty . thunders, in echo to the general voice of --public thanksg ving. C CHAPTER VIII. PLOTS ALL ROUND THE TABLE. TaTHr day--passed off in pleasurable excitements whica did not :end with the night.. An illumination followed, and every house PLOTS ALL ROUND THE TABLE. 39 was thrown wide for the reception of friends and visitors. The military bands were in -full requisition: and the merry violin, sounding from this or that great house, in almost every street of the city, denoted the extempore dancing party, and the joyful reunion of long separated friends and dear ones. Formality inter- posed to mar none of the' conviviality. There were no tedious ceremonials. The strangers were known friends, and successful valour and unquestioned patriotism, were to be honoured and re- warded. There had been little time, arid less means for any state- ly ceremonials. Invitations had not been given out, but were commonly understood; and every gentleman knew that he was- welcome at every whig mansion. Doors every where were thrown wide, and the gay cavalier passed from one to another dwelling, sure to find in all an attraction and a welcome. It was at one of these, in Broad-street, that Mrs. Eveleigh was, for the evening, an honoured guest. A considerable party had. assembled, when Gen- eral Greene made his appearance with his suite. Moultrie came soon after, with good natured visage, looking the very personifica- tion of peace and good will to men. There were stately cavaliers in train from Virginia, Maryland and Delaware,-the old North State was honourably represented in more than -one tall and portly soldier, while Georgia had two or three handsome blue-eyed and round-faced youths, following the wake of the fiery Wayne. The assemblage hastily conceived, and promiscuously brought 'together, was nevertheless, comparatively, a brilliant one. We do not pro- pose to describe it more particularly. It was while the rooms were most crowded, that Mrs. Eveleigh was suddenly surprised by the entrance of McKewn, whom she had known only as the associate of Moncrieff, and by the memo- randa which she still held in her possession. He approached the hostess, Mrs. W , with the easy assurance of one -who has no doubt of his reception., -lMrs. Eveleigh watchebd curiously to see what that reception would be. To her increased surprise, she page: 40-41[View Page 40-41] 40' THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF., found it affable in the extreme. ]McKewn was next seen among the gentlemen. With these, also, he seemed to-enjoy an excellent understanding. Her surprise underwent still farther increase, as she discovered in the persons with' whom he-seemted most at home, none but unquestionable patriots. By one of tlese she saw him led .up to General Greene and introduced; a few words w are whis-s pered ii the General's ear, by the gentleman who did the courtesy on this occasion, and Greene was then seen to shake McXewn, s hand with a hearty and nervous giasp. Good Mrs. Evele:g i knew' not what to think. She turned to a gentleman who sa;e beside her, whom she well knew, and asked- "Who is that person just introduced to General Greene--he to whom General Moultrie is& now speaking?" "His name is McKewfn-he is, or was, a'Scotch merchart here, but I'believe he has declined busiLess recently. He is a man of substance." "The General seems to view him witlhfavour." "Well they may, if all's true tI at is said of haim. B e is one! of the few Scotchmen who have been with us during the ya'.l He was one of the addressors of Sir hIenry Clinton, but his ostenta- tious loyalty was only emloyoed as a cover for his' revol u;ionary principles. He lias been one of th spies, in part, upon the garri- son, and has frequently served Marion with inbormatio;i of the state 'of affairs." 2 i "His being a Scotchman, yet a. spy for us, does not speak much -fo principle of any kind. I suppose he feathered his nest hy it." ' "Ah!" with a shrug, " we -must not be too scrupulois about the quality of the tool we use if we pick the lock with it;" "Perhaps not: the necessity of the case is to be coisiderea, surely. But is it certain that Mar'on got any really valuable in- formation out of him?" - "That 'is a problem. But you seem curious 'n respec.; - this person. Have9ou any reason for it?" , PLOTS ALL ROUND THE TABLE. 41 "I have; and I must consult you in regard to it and him. But not now. I see that he approaches." The companion of Mrs. Eyeleigh was, in that day, a very cele- brated Carolina lawyer, and, subsequently, the widow unfolded to him the discoveries which she had made. "I am not at all surprised at it," was the reply. "It is certain that MeKewn has grown wealthy. He is proprietor of several large estates, or rather has liens upon them, for advances made at enormous interest. foreclosure of these mortgages, at this mo- ment, when there is no money in the country, would give him these estates at his own prices. These papers which you possess would be fatal to him. But, unless he proceeds to extremities with his debtors, it may be well not to use them." "Should he not be made to disgorge 2" "Yes, if there be any good whig who suffers by him. But in all probability most of his debtors are tories, and they will scarce- ly oppose his action." ' - The good widow shook her head. "He has other victims. I know of one at least, a true patriot- a strange creature-of many eccentricities, but of many, noble qualities and of much real talent. He has been the loser already by this McKewn. I recovered half-a-dozen slaves for him, when I got my own out of the Hulk." "You mean Porgy?": - "Yes!" - "Oh! we must save Porgy;-we will! But, for the present, keep perfectly quiet.' We are yet in the storm. Government is only nominally established-we know not what may follow; keep an eye on the fellow-that is enough for "the present-and with these. papers, we can lring him up with a short cord at any mo- ment." Enough of this conversation-which took place the day after the party at Mrs&W. ' . To that let us now return. The approach 4* . ' l page: 42-43[View Page 42-43] ^ 42 -THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. of Mckewii to the place where Mrs. Eveleighl sate, followed very soon after the moment when she discovered-'his presence in the assembly. He appeared to see her suddenly; but, we ray state, from our own knowledge, that his motive for Lppearing in that particular assembly, that night, was the result of his previous kIowledse that he should be sure to meet her there. -He had taken sufficient paisit satisfy himself on this point. Pis object in desiring to see liher should be obvious to the'reader. He was deeply interested in knowin g whether shea had possessed lerself of, the missing 'paper which so greatly- comproise i him. His no- tioni was that, as a woman, she -Would in some way betray her knowledge-by look, word, manner-and thus enable him to de- termine upo6 th6 necessity before him, and the game vhich he would need to play. B*it the widow Eveleigh was no ordinary woman. She was a goo whist player, and when you fin la good whist player among women, betsure that she knows how to keep a secret. Her trumpet never, announces the nuober othe value of her trump cards. ' ' A mjile and bow-a look and manner-of the pr foundest courtesy-T ingled with that sort' of triumphant pleasure" which might' be supposed to appear in the :faces of all god ci Azens at such a momeint--adisisting hed the address of Mr. McKeiwn, as he stood before M. - Eveleigh. The lady acknowledge i his -ad- dress with a courtesy sufficiently decided to make no reveiations. McKewn' took the seat beside her, which her late compaLi hn had just vacated, and, in the current phrase of the hour, cong atulatedi her-on the, rateful change which the country ha under e. She answered 'him in a manner of perfect good 'faith, avoiding with care every look or word which the most jealous nature might con- stire into suspicion or sarcasm. ' "It is certainly an event at which every good citizen slould re- joice, Mr.' MKewn,: Our people have gone tkough a terrible trial.' -They have shown themselves worthy of tf-e liberties they o PLO-S ALL ROUND E THEABLE, 43 have won. It is to b ehoped that they will now prove themselves worthy to retain them." "'A more difficult matter. But we must hope, my dear madam. It is something in proof of their capacity to keep, that they have shown the capacity to win. I found you lately engaged in a some- what unpleasant business.- I trust you were successful in getting back your negroes." "I was, sir." "You were then much more fortunate than' some of your neigh- bours. I had much trouble with CoL Moncrieff in removing some of my own, and was only in part successful." ' "Indeed." ,' Yes; I have lost a number, and was quite satisfied not to have lost all. The British have had their emissaries all over the coun- try, and some of these creatures, madam, were such as we should little suspect. Wheni you found',me with Col. Moncrieff, I was endeavouring -to procure some clues to their detection, for it is im- possible but that some of these wretches will still remain in the country." " Were you successful in your inquiries, sir?" "Not altogether; but I fancy I have some clues in regard to one or more of our neighbours. You are aware, madam, that' I have become the proprietor of an estate near yours on. the Ashe- poo - "No, sir, Iwas not! whose pray?" Gillon's.--I took it for a debt; shall send up negroes to work it, and hope to find myself one of your neighbours in the spring, if not before." ' ' The lady bowed rather stiffly, -but said nothing. The wily McKewn construed her manner into a confirmation of his suspi- cions. If it had been her object to baffle his scrutiny in regard to the missing paper, she had lost a point inthe game. There was a brief pause in the conversation, which McKewn, at length, 're- page: 44-45[View Page 44-45] " THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. sumed by returning to the subject of his interview with Moncrieff. He told a very pretty little story of the ingen:ous pro6 esses by which he had succeeded in recovering his negroesi and concluded by :stating that Moncrieff and himself had quarrelled finl-ly. - "But I had the last word, Mrs. Eveleigh, ant one tha he will remember.. I was compelled to bear his insolence while the Bri- tish garrison was yet in possession, but, in the moment o' his de- parture, and when he could no longer exercise his- powe', I gave hin my opinion of his character." He then told of the final passage already detailed betw een him- self and Moncrief. The note which he had put into the Lands of the latter; he described as full of the 'most stinging insi-t. The lady could not forbear the sacasm, :which the yet uttered very quietly, and with a seeming .unconsciousness -of its latent mean- ;W'g. - - ' "Certainly, a very daring proceeding, Mr. McKewn. 'But, if I recollect rightly, Wayne's advance was within a hundred yards of you at the. moment. Of that, however, you were unaware." A slight flush tinged the dark cheeks of McKewn; bit he. an- swered calmly. - '--"N, indeed, Mrs. Eveleigh--I knew it well enougd: and knew :that, were it otherwise, I shouild have perilled my .neck to have done what I did. . There would have been no, sense or even courage in speaking freely, what I thought of the scound :el, at a time-when I should have 'no power to contend with hi. - I did all that I properly cold in expressing my sense of his rascality." ,The lady appeared to hear him indifferently. He dscovered this, and soon after' withdrew from her side. 'i' Fool!" thought Mrs. Eveleigh, as he moved away. "Does he think to delude me with his inventions?" "' She hs the'paper: " muttered MeKewn, at te same moment; ",and now to- ascertain when she leaves town." - - .is spies were set accordingly; .and instructed:to wath every I PLOTS ALL ROUND THE TABLE. 45 movement of the widow. They did their duty faithfully. The very next day;, the Squatter, Bostwick, was in attendance upon his employer. "Well Bostwick, have y6u got the fellows?" "Five of the best bloodhounds in the country. But I must have money for 'em. I'm at great expense in keeping 'em. Jest simple meat and drink won't answer to keep 'em quiet.' You must soak 'em and stuff 'em ;-ef you leave a vacant place in 'em, they begins to be good and religious-like,- and to talk about 'sins' and sich like matters." "Pshaw-!" "It's mother-truth, I'm telling you. There's no keeping 'em properly sinful for your wants, onless I'm a drenching and stuffing 'em. It's something' a-wanting from morning-to night. They wants everything they sees or thinks about, and they say they've a right to all I can git." "But you forget-you agreed with them for a certain price." "Yes! that was the pay when the work was done. But I was to keep them in the meantime, you know, and it's mighty hard work. They're all asleep now at Broddus's, up the path. They was most etarnally drunk last night, broke all the windows, and killed Broddus's dog-so them's to be paid. for. ' Broddts -says the windows is two dollars, and' the dog-cost him two guineas."' '"The devil! And ou expect me to pay me this fellow?" "In course--it's only reason-seeing as how these boys is in your keeping." "But I'll do no such thing." "You'll hev' to, Mckewn; so it's no use to kick agin it. -They will git drunk, and when they're drunk, they will splurge -and shine. There's no hendering 'em." "And you?" - "Oh! I must drink with them, you know --" "And splurge anid shine too, I suppose; break windows, kill dogs, and expect me to square the bill." page: 46-47[View Page 46-47] " THE SWORD ANDt THE DISTAFF. " In course. It's the life-we lea, and belongs to the i usiness, and one part jest as much as the other. The man what scLs him- self to the devil, must in nature hev' a sort of devil's e lication, and must play devil's tricks. It keeps the hand in fg devil's business." - "Well, it's some consolation that we shall not have thelkeepingj of such rascals very long. This woman leaves town next kveek." "Which day? "Friday, I think-but we shall find out." "Friday-a bad day for a start. Htanigman's day." "Yes; a bad day for her, as she will start then. You will set out the day-before, and choose your place of- ambush. Remem- ber, Bostwick, you are not to fail. Your pay depends up n it;- the negroes you will recapture, depend upon it ;---and your neck depends upon it'; for she certainly has got the paper." "I reckon it'sl your neck jest as much as mine, McKI n, so you'll jest please to stop with that sort of talking. Nobddy likes to have the rope and gallows constantly flung in his fce, jest when he's -thinking of other things. As for my name orn the pa- per, it ought'nt to consarn me so much, seeing as how I did'nt put it thar. But you:did, and you ptt your own too, and I reckon when they're h'isting me on the cross-trees, they'll be sjwinging you off to make room. Ef you wants me to be reasonabl and do your business, you'll jest stop with a sort of talk which m ikes my blood bile-agin you."- - K i "Well! well!! since you're so nice about this hanging, I'l say rope to you no more." -':Better not--t'aint devisable, no how.- It's better to talk of the business atween us. I must have money for the keeping of the boys." } "Here's three guineas-" '"Why, there's six on us."' ", If there were sixty, I h-ave no mdre; money about me.' if were xtyj leave PLOTS ALL ROUND THE TABLE. 4 "It takes pretty righ a guinea a day, to keep 'em, as they ex- pects to be kept." "Damn their expectations! Do they suppose me to be made, of money? You mAst make them more reasonable, Bostwick, for you yourself will lose by it in the end." "I don't see." "But I do!--make these three guineas answer for the week and come to me at the end of it." "I'll be sure to do that, whether the week's at an end or not. Tiger-cats must be fed." - "Ay, but as tiger-cats only, and not as lions. Rememb-er the difference, if you please. You have taken care that none of them knows me in the business?" "To be sure! make yourself easy thair'." "Make yourself ready, and see that they are quite sober when 'the work is done; ard when you have got the negroes and pa- per, push down the Edisto, where I will contrive to, meet you, and get the negroes off Jo the transport sloop. But we'll talk over these particulars before you start." Here the conference ended. We have been content to give a sample of it only. There was much more said, unavoidably, be- tween the parties, which it is not necessary that we should chroni- cle. The week passed, and McKewn was called-upon to disgorge other guineas, and meet other bills for damages done by his dogs in keeping. Meanwhile, Mrs. Eveleigh was making her prepara- tions.. On WednesdAy, not on Friday, she set out for her planta- tion, accompanied by her negroes, and those of Porgy,-her over- seer, and her son--the latter, a youth of fifteen. But we shall introduce this lad more formally hereafter. page: 48-49[View Page 48-49] T4 d8 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. CHAPTER IX. THE SOLDIER SURVIVES HS OCCUPATION. WE must now change the scene of operations, and introduce new parties to our drama. Let us present ourselves at lhe Camp of Marion, at the head of Cooper river. The reader will, perhaps, have observed that, in speaking of the departure of tl e British forces:from the city of Charleston, and the grand entlr of the American troops'at their heels, we said rothing of-the rrilitia, the rangers, the famous Partisans, cavalry ad. foot, of Marion, Sum- ter, Maham, and the many other brillfint cavaliers, whose sleep- less activity,;great audacity, and frequent: successes, hadd perhaps more than any other cause, kept- live the hopes, and mnaintained the cause of liberty in Carolina, at a period when Fate shemed to have decreed the'utter subjugation of the country by the enemy. The fact is, none of these gallant spirits were permitted to be pre- serit-at the:rieoccupation of the metropolis by the patriot army They had shared the usual fortune of modest merit; h4C served their purpose, and had survived their uses. TLelwork' done, the game won, they had been thrown aside, as the orange Sucked of its contents, with no more scruple or concern. It will sc celv be believed, but such is the. fact, that ,-the :militia-;of the country, were especially denied the, privilege of being spectators of the de- parture of that enemy, against whom none had battred more ceaselessly, more fearlessly, or with bette success, than themselves. It might have been that:they were too nude to. be seen on such a brilliant occasion. They were, verily, very nigh to uttor naked- ness. They were mostly in rags. Their rents of garnent were closed by bandages of green moss. Their shoulders sand hips were thus, in like manner, padded, as a protection against abrasion , \ . , ' I' * \ \i THE SOLDIER SURVIVES HtS OCCUPATION. by the belts which they had to wear, bearing their arms and am- muhilion. They we-e commonly shoeless and hatless. Raw hides made the shoes of many, wrought roughly, moccasin fashion, into mere troughs for the feet, the seams running down, and gathering up the edges of the' eather, from the instep to the toes. -A fiag- ment of coarse cotton, or a ragged handkerchief, wound about like a turban, was the substitute with many for a hat; while, with a still greater number, the skins of 'coon or possum,' untanned, untrimmed, and with the tail, jauntily stuck out on the side, made caps of every pattern, and of fashions the most extraordinary.- Their weapons were pf similar diversity; from-the long ducking gun of the planter, to the short fusee of the German Yager; the heavy tower musket Of George the Third, to the long rifle of the mountain rangers from that section of the Apalachian slopes, which divides, or ratler unites, the States of North and South- Carolina and Georgia. Sabres, wrought from mill-saws, with handles of common wood, graced the thighs of half the dra- goons. Such equipments would scarcely have made a brilliant showing in a scene so brilliant as that witnessed at the recovery of Charles- ton. Whether it would not have been most noble and impres-- sive, as illustrating ;he true worth and honest patriotism of the Partisans, is a matter which the reader will take into considera- tion. It, certainly, was not considered by the ruling powers at that period, or considered only as calculated to subtract from the splendours of the triumphal pageant. But the reasoning by which the militia were excluded from the scene was really of a more of- fensive and objectionable character. An unworthy fear-a dread of the power of a body of troops who were supposed to be less easily brought under -he control of authority,-who were known to be dissatisfied, and who, it was felt, had just cause for discon- tent and dissatisfaction--was the true secret of their exclusion- from the scene. Badly armed and worse clad, fighting for years' page: 50-51[View Page 50-51] 5U THE SWOUR AND 'THlii DUlA'l'A'. - amidst thousand other privations, without pay, aid almost with- out: thanks or acknowledgment, their achievements 1lrred over and disparaged, as they have been too frequently sihce,- while the deeds of others were exaggerated and clothed with a false lustre ;--it was apprehended that, with the withdrawal of the enemy, they might be disposed to assert their rights, and co jus- tice to themselves. It is possible they might have done so since humanity is not to be supposed capable, a'ways, of forbearing the exhibition of a just indignation, under continued wrong ard pro- vocation. But the possibility was still a very fa'nt one. They had given no reason for the suspicion. Nay, they had been cal- led in, and kept ready, more than once, under Marion, to suppress the apprehended outhreaks and ipsurrections of some of those very continental troops who had been deemed worthy to be present, at the event, which they were denied to b hold. A deep feeling of indignation, naturally enough, was awakened among our partisans at this ungenerous exclusion. But it d'd not declare itself, and could not, while under the lealer who had so nobly conducted them throughout the war; and now they were about to be disbanded-to separate from their leaders-to pay the last honours of salute to the colours they had so often watched in the heady storms and vicissitudes of battle, and to retire to their homes-such homes as a war of seven years- had left them- homes in ruins ;-and to sink unhonoured into an obscurity, ^vhich held forth little promise of distinction in the futurie, and stil less of improving fortunes. . It 'was in that tract of country, so often distinguished by his active enterprise, lying near the head waters of Cooper River, that Marion assembled his brigade for the purpose of dissolving his, connection with them, and their existence as a military society. Their number did not much exceed four hundred men, infantry and horse. At an early hour of the morning, the stir of prepara- tion: was begun, and, by nine o'clock, the rolling drums and sharp THE SOLDIER SURVIVES HS OCCUPATION. 51 clamours of the bugle, summoned them to the area of i noble wood of ancient cedars in which they were to take leave of-their well-beloved chieftain. At ten, the General appeared among them, attended by all his staff. He was received in deep silence--a si- lence expressive of emotions too solemn for shouts or word'. His face, usually grave, wo-e a still graver expression than was its wont. His words, always few, were scarcely more copious now, when so much was to be said, even if much was to be left un- spoken. There was more than his usual hesitation, in his manner, as he addressed them. His tones slightly trembled, and thus spoke directly to their own feelings. He spoke of their long ser- vices, their fidelity to himself and country; the honourable termi- nation of their labours in the field, and the necessity of now sink- ing back to the no less honourable duties of the citizen. He as- sured them that, in him, his old soldiers should always find a personal friend, who, whatever might be the changes of the future could never forget his sympathy and connection with the past. At the close, they gathered about him, each eager to seize his hand in friendly ripe. Nor was he the man to insist upon the dignities and formalities of his position at such a moment. The commander was forgotten in the friend, and the leave-taking was such as might be expected, at the breaking up and dispersion of the members of an ancient and loving housellold. It was mid- day before he left then, riding slowly away, attended by his suite, and escorted by a small detachment of cavalry. Night found the sceneof the encamprment silent-no drums rolled-no trumpets sounded-no fires wele lighted. The cedars at Wathoo, were as lonely, as if they sheltered the graves only of the brave fellows to whose living heads they had so long afforded the most grate- ful protection! 'Wd cannot follow the fortunes of our scattered partisans, pur- suing, las they did, a score of different routes, each with his thought and heart turned upon some special home and object. Bands of * I s . page: 52-53[View Page 52-53] 52 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. fifty might be seen, on horse or a-foot, taking the route for Or nge- \ burg; other groups went northward, bound for Waccamaw and Peedee; others again moved down the rivr; taking one or ther of the two routes conducting to Charleston, while sundry squads sped directly southward, aiming for the LAshey, the Edisto the Ashepoo and the Savannah rivers; from all of which regions they had severally been drawn. We will accompany one of these parties, a group consisting of four persons, all well mounted, and, 4 om- paratively speaking, lall well armed and caparisoned. Tvro of them, in fact, are officers. One of these is , stout, and someWhat plethoric gentleman; full, and smooth, and florid of face, witl in- dubitable signs of a passion for the good things of this life. His fea- tures are marked and decisive, with a large cpacious nose, a mouth rather feminine and soft, and-a chin well Refined and masculine. But for the excessive development of the abdominal region, his figure would have been quite worthy of his face. He rode a no- ble gray, of great size and strength, good blood and bottom, and with his fires but little subdued by hard service. Rleside this per- son, whose epaulettes showed him to have held a Captain's om- mission, rode a youth, who could not have been more than r ine-' teen years of age. He is slender and tall, but wirey and agile; with features rather pleasing and soft, than expressive; and which might have seemed somewhat lacking in manliness but for the dark bronzing which they had taken from t e sun, He was well mounted also, tolerably well dressed, and wore the equipmen, of a- cavalry Ensign. The thiid person of this party was a aiir 'of altogethdr inferior appearance, short, massivd a akward, vith features harsh and irregular, redeemed onl by a certain frank- ness and honesty of express;on, which was derived from a large and gentle eye of hazel, and a broad good-natured mouth. Hte carried an enormous beard almost of lemonj colour, and his lair streamed down his shoulders in waving masses, that faintly re- minded you of a falling mountain torrent. A stout chunk of- a A stu ch n of- THE SOLDIER SURVIVES HS OiOCUPATION. ' 53 horse, of frame not unsuited to his; own, bore his weight. He wore no other uniform than the common blue frock, or hunting shirt of the rangers, a cap of coon skin, and, for weapons, a broad sword, of immense dimensions as from the primitive forges of a son of Anak, and a ipair of common pistols. These weapons, we may add, he could use with the left hand only-the right be- ing wanting. He was one of the few who, in the miserable deficien- cy of the militia service, had survived a hurt which had complete- ly shattered the limb. His safety was due to his own stout heart, and the unflinching promptness of the friend and superior whom he followed. Iis right arm, torn into strips by a brace of bullets from a musket held vithin a few paces, was stricken off at his entreaty, by his Captain, and the bleeding stump was thrust in- stantly into hot, seething tar. The wounds healed, Heaven knows how, and he -recoverel. But for this prceeding he must have per- ished. At that time. there was not a surgeon inl Marion's Bri- I gade, and every hurtl which affected the limbs of the victim was certain to end in death. Sergeant Millhouse, the man in ques- tion, became the devoted adherent of a superior, who, had the firmness to comply with the stern requisition of the patient, and himself perform the Druel operation, which the sufferer bore with- out a groan. ' 5 The fourth party in this group is a negro,-a native African-- the slave of the Capta6in; a fellow of flat head and tried fidelity; of enormous mouth, but famous as a cook; of a nose that scarce- ly pretended to elevate itself on the otherwise plain surface of an acre of face; but of a genius for stews that commended him quite as much as any other of his virtues to the confidence and regards of his master. Tom, had a reputation in camp, for his terrapin soups, whichi made him the admiration of the whole Bri- gade. He well knet his own merits, and was always careful to be in condition to establish them. The sumpter horse which he rode was covered, accordingly, with a variety of kitchen equipage. i 5*) I I o I' I * ' ; page: 54-55[View Page 54-55] 54 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. Pots and kettles were curiously pendant from the saddle, strapped over the negro's thighs, or hanging from his skirts. A sack, which exhibited numerous angles, carried other utensils, to say no-hing of pewter plates, iron spoons, knives alnd forks, and sundry odds and -ends of biread and bacon. Tom was really buried in his kitchen baggage. But this seemed to offer no impediment, nor to be felt as an incumbrance. He kept close to the heels of his master, and had as ready an ear for all that was spoken, as any of his superiors. H-e was not wanting, also, in the occasional comment-the camp-life having done much towards perfecting the republicanism of all the parties. Our company had ridden a couple of hours firom the tinre of their withdrawal from the ' Cedars,' and the separation from their ancient comrades; and had compassed, perhaps, eight or ten hiles in this interval. Yes, but little conversation had taken place among them, and, though they rode together, they maintained comparative silence. Our Captain, who bore the name of Porgy, was almost the only speaker. He was one, in fact, who claimed a liberal endowment of the gift of language, and greatly elight- ed, on ordinary occasions, in his own eloquence. But he, too, was influenced, in some degree, by the scene through Iwhich they had so recently gone ;-by thoughts which were now, perforce,- requir- ed to meditate the' future, and by the sterile country through which they were passing-reaped by the greedy sickles -of the eiemy, and sending up no cheerful smokes from the homesteads of Welcoming friends. The day itself, from: being bright ate sun- rise, had become overcast with clouds. Chilly, without being cold, it added to the feeling of chill which the circumstances of the day had naturally occasioned in their hearts.. Nor did the solemn, stately, and ever murmuring an( monotonous pine-folests through which they rode--Lby no means enlivened by . occasinal tracts of scanty oak, stript -wholly of its foliage, or by- the ruins of ancient farms, and decaying fences-contribute to lessen the feeling - . . is\ ' THE SOLDIMR SURVIVES HS , OCCUPATION. 55 of melancholy which sensibly possessed our little group of travel- lers, . At length, however, Capt. Porgy broke the silence, as he alone had hitherto done; by something that sounded monstrously like , an oath, but which we may render into more innocent language. "' By St. Bacchus, Lance, I must drink-I must eat--I must be guilty of some fleshy indulgence! Let us get down here. There is a branch before us, the water of which I have tried before. We have still a bottle of Jamaica. Tom must knock us up a fiy, and we must eat and drink, that we may not grow stupid from exces- sive thinking. If one must think, its most agreeable exercise, to my experience, is over toast and tankard. Tom, 'light, old fellow, and get out your cookables. Lance, you carry that Jamaica;-I would see if it loses any of its colour in these dark and drowsy times." The command was instantly obeyed: though, to descend out of his piles, to fling off straps to which hung pot and kettle,-bread and bacon, &c., was, to Tom, a sort of performance which needed equal discretion and d!eliberation. He was extricated, at last, though only with the assistance of Corporal Millhouse; and, hav- ing relieved his horse of its luggage, he adjusted himself to his tasks. Very soon, his box of tinder, flint and steel, were in re- quisition, and he had kindled a pleasant blaze within twenty steps of the running' water. To this, Captain Porgy, accompanied by Lance, his Lieutenaint-d Lance Frampton being the full name-- had at once proceeded; I and already had he brightened the clear, but rather unmeaning chmplexion of the water, with the rich, red liquid of Jamaica. A pewter mug, of moderate dimensions, suf- ficed for the embraces of the separate fluids, and having finst, with his nostrils, inhaled the fragrance of the rum, our Captain held it to his eye for a moment, surveying it with a glance of decided complacency, before he carried it to his lips. He drank, smacked his lips with a sense of cordial satisfaction, and offered the cup I page: 56-57[View Page 56-57] 56 THE SWORD AND THe. DISTAFF. and bottle to Franmpton. But the latter declined the liquor re- spectfully, and, stooping to the brooklet, drank directly \from the running stream. Millhouse, the Sergeant, was more easily per- suaded, and Capt. Porgy, as he beheld. him pour with liberal hand into the cup, might have- entertained sotne reasonable doubts of the propriety and wisdom of suffering a man, with but one hand, to adjust his own measures, particularly!where the source of sup- ply was so distressingly small. Bu; he suffered the soldier to help himself, and, retiring a few paces, let himself down-no easy matter-at the foot of a pine, wNhere. the straw of previous seasons afforded a couch of tolerable softness. Hither, wlen the horses were fastened, came the Ensign, Frampton, while the Ser- geant, Millhouse, bestowed himself more particularly upon Tom, the cook. A hoarse sigh, that, issuing from a plethoric chest, might have been held a groan, betrayed, in Captain Porgy, a more than usually serious sense of his situation. The Ensign, who had thrown himself down on the opposite side of the tree, modestly remarked--- "I think, Captain Porgy, you are more sorrowful than I ever saw you before. Indeed, I can't say that I ever saw you sorrow- ful 'till now." * "W-ell: quite likely, Lance;--Ihave reasonfor it. Othello's oc- cupation's gone." ".Othello, Captain? Was the gentleman a soldier?" "Ay, indeed, a Moorish soldier!-a Blackamoor-a negro--o whom, it is quite likely, you have never heard-of whom you will, probably, hear no more than I shall tell you.- He was a fa- mous fighter in his day-; but there came a day when his wars were ended-like ours-and then!-" "And then 2' "He swallowed his sword 'through an artificial mouth!" "What? H ow? Swallowed his sword?" ("In other words, cut his throat!" THE SOLDIER SURVIVES HS OCCUPATION 5' "What? because he could no longer cut the throats of other people?" "Partly that-,and reason enough too? Throat cutting was his' business. Nobody ought to survive his business! Now, if I were quite sure that my wars were wholly ended-that I should never be permitted to cut throats again, according to law--I should certainly request of you the favour, Lance, as an act of friendship, to pass the edge of your sabre across my jugular." ' I should do 0:o such thing, Captain Poigy." "Oh! yes, you would ;-that is, if I particularly requested it; and I don't know but I shall have to do io yet. You will certain- tainly oblige me, Lance, when' the necessity shall arrive, and when 1 make the entreaty." "I don't think. Captain. No! I could never do it." "Oh! yes, you will, but the necessity is not apparent yet, since my nose tells me that Tom has still some material left, by which my throat shall find agreeable employment. I suppose, so long as one may tickle his throat with fish, flesh and fowl, and soothe it with Jamaica, he may still endure a life relieved of its usual occupations. But, this is the doubt, Lance. How long shall there be fish, and flesh and fowl, and Jamaica? I am a ruined man I I go back to the ancient homestead of my fathers, to find it desolate. Negroes gone, lands under mortgage, and not a rooster remaining in the poultry-yard, to crow me a welcome to dinner. Such a prospect does not terrify you. You have not been reared and trained to positior, and artificial wants. You are young, just at the entrance of lEfe, my dear boy, and can turn your hand to a thousand occupations, each of which shall supply your wants.- Such is not the case with me. At forty-five, neither heart nor head, nor hand, possesses any such flexibility. A seven years ap- prenticeship to war, has left no resources in peace. Othello's oc- cupatiori's gone!-gone! There is little or nothing now, that I should live for ;--amily, wife, friends, fortune-I have none ;-. ! 1 a page: 58-59[View Page 58-59] -5 8 : THE- SWORD ADD THE DISTAFF. loneliness, poverty, desolation-these are the only prospects before "me!" ' This was spoken with so much real mournfulness, that it com- pelled the warmest sympathies of the youthful hearer, who, in spite of many eccentricities on the part of the speaker, which he failed to:understand, and a strong and active selfishness, which he comprehended well enough, had yet a real affection for his superior. He crept nearer to Porgy, and said-l "Oh! it can't be as bad as all that, Captain. You have many friends. There's General Marion, and there's our Colonel, and many besides; and you've got a fine plantation, and I reckon some of your negroes are left-- " "Tom only! The last accounts reported that every hair of a negro was gone--all carried off by the tories, I suppose, or the British. As for the plantation, it's under mortgage to a d-d shark of a Scotchman; .and, even if it w ere not, it would be worth nothing without the slaves. I tell yoli, boy, I see no remedy but to get my throat cut like a gentleman, and die in my epaulettes and boots." "Oh! something will be sure to tu-n up, Captain. Remember what -old Ben Brewer used to say when any thing misfortunate had happened--' Look up, I say,-God's over all!' God's your -friend, Captain." "Well, in truth, Lance, I've so seldom called upon him, among my other friends, that, perhaps, he might do something for me now." The irreverence wa rebuked by his young companion in following terms- "Oh! Captain, don ttalkt so! Ile's been doing for you all along! Who has taken carel of you 'till now, when you're forty- five years old? Who saved you so often in fight 2-and that's another reason, Captain, .why you sho ild have faith in his mercies! I reckon God always puts in, at the right -time, to save people, if AMBUSCADE. 59 so be they only let him! It's we that won't be saved, and that's continually fightfing against his mercies." "You talk like an, oracle, Lance! One thing's certain,'that at times, when a fellow discovers that he can do nothing to sa:ve himself, the best philosophy is to confide in powers superior to his own. Of one thing, ret assured, my lad-I shall never hurry my own case to judgment. I should fear the Judge's charge :would be against me, lt me plead as 'I might, and be his mercies as great as I could hop6 for. It will be always time enough to end one's own history; and since I've escaped the British bullet and bayonet, during a! seven years' service, I shall certainly not use eithe.' to my own disquiet. The smell of Tom's fry, makes my philosophy more dheerful. It is, indeed, surprising how a man's griefs cdyindle away towards dinner time. Ho! Tom! are / you ready?" "Jes' ready, maussa,' was the prompt reply of the\ cook. "Let us eat, Lance. I see that M-illlhouse has his cleaver out already. Help me with an arm, my boy, while I rise to a sitting posture, I am no small person to heave up into perpendicularity.". Leaving our little group of partisans, for a while, let us return' to the widow Eveleigh, on her route homewards. CHAPTER -X. , AMBUSCADE. MRS. EveleigL, as we have already stated, left the city for her plantation on Wednesday, instead of Friday. The change in her arrangements, -called for a corresponding change in those of Mc- Kewn, and the Squatter, Bostwick. The latter, with -his five con- page: 60-61[View Page 60-61] UU THli SbWOUD AND THE DISTAFF. federates, or enmploye&s, took their departure on Tuesday; and, well knowing the jroute to be pursued by the widow, sped rapidly for the Edisto, in the neighbourhood of which river, they proposed toplant their ambush. Their departure was quite a relief to Mc- EKwn, as it greatly lessened the expense to which he was necessa- rily subject, so long as they remained in idleness, and in a vicinity so fall of temptations. We need not note their p;ogress. Con- ducted by Bostwick, they were not lorg in reaching their hiding places, and in taking sVich a position, west of the Edisth, as would enable them to fasten upon their prey at a bound. The excellent lady, n nsuspicious of danger, set forth after breakfast on Wednes- day morning, in her great family carriage drawn by four 'stout horses., The lumtering vehicle of that period need not be partic- ularly described. It is very well known that the carriages of that day were huge, unsightly and heavy machines, very solid structures of wood and iron, which,-even when entirely empty, were a suffi- cient burden for their teams. When occupied by our widow, her son, -a youth of sixteen, a maid-servant of no small dimensions, sundry trunks, bags and boxes, filling up every foot of space-and condemned to a lonely progress over rough and heavy roads, it was inevitable that its movements must be slow. Accordingly, it made no more rapid progress than the plantation wagon which accompanied it, and in which several of the negroes found a place. One or-two of these were mounted on mules, while others, the more vigorous, walked, easily keeping up with the carriage.- Among these were the half-dozen negroes, belonging to Captain Porgy, whom, as we have seen, the widow was so fortunate, and so firm, as to recover, with her own, from the clutches of Mon- crieff.\i The overseer of Mrs. Eveleigh, Fordham, led the cortege, mounted on a- clumsy, but powerful, sumpter horse, and armed with the wellused long rifle of the country. He carried, besides, in holsters, a - pair f large but common pistols. Young Eveleigh was similarly armed. He rode, sometimes with his mother in the AMBUSCADE. 61 carriage, but cccasionally left the vehicle for a little 'marsh- tacky,' or poney, of Spanish breed, such as are to be found very commonly about the parishes of South-Carolina to this day-- a light, hardy, I vely creature, very small, but of great endurance. Young Eveleigh was a tall, handsome and vigorous youth, full'of spirit, of a strorg will and resolute character. Properly armed, the party, incluing the negroes, might have laughed at any de- monstration which could be made by the force under Bostwick; but, unsuspicious of danger, they had taken no precautions against it, and travelled as carelessly along as if their course lay through the pathways of the peaceful city. Sometimes, Fordham andyoung Eveleigh rode together ahead; at- other moilents they were to be seen about the wagon and negroes, in the rear; and, not unfre- quently, when riding ahead, they were out of sight both of wagon and carriage. Bostwick had made all his calculations with due regard to what l-e knew of the travelling habits -of the people on such occasions. The party had been suffered to cross the Edisto at Rantowle's, and had made some progress upwards and towards the Ashepoo; when the hour for ' nooning" approached. Of course, carriage and wagon were both well provided with the ne- cessary supplies of provisions; as the lodging houses along the route, few at any 'time, and with long intervals, had been very gen- erally broken up during the war, upon any but thegreat thdrouga- fares. Fordham and young Eveleigh had ridden forward to fiLd a branch-a stream of water-or :aspring, at which the party might stop. Al turn of the road had taken them out of sight of the carriage. The regions were well wooded; and the ve- hicles were passing through a defile of the forest more than commonly dense. They had jiist passed- an ancient Club- house, such as may be found, to this day, throughout the Parish country of South-Carolina; where, after the day's hunt, the gen- try of the surrounding district reassembled for dinner. The house had been disused for this-purpose, during the war, and was now in i . . I( page: 62-63[View Page 62-63] 62 THE SWORD AND THEE DISTAFF. ruins. The planks had been torn off from the frame, which stood up analmost naked skeleton. The floor was gone-the roof could afford no shelter. Weeds and grass, still in rankest luxuriance, environed the decaying frabric, in which, no doubt, during the heats of summer, the serpent and the wild-cat found frequent harbourage, Just' beyond this spot, a heavy timbered forest spread away to the South, over a low, mucky tract, which the deer and the bear could alone inhabit. The road wound along the edges of this low region, pursuing the higher grounds. It was while the carriage was passing through the dark shadows of this defile, that it was suddenly arrested. The horses were made rudely to recoil, and wheeled about; the vehicle was thrust di- rectly across the road so as fairly to close it up. The shock awakened. Mrs. Eveleigh from a drowsy mood, whileethe cry of the servant-maid Vwho accompanied her, warned her of some event which required her attention. At first, she fancied that the horses were unruly;. but she was soon undeceived. The words of the negro' gilrl-- "Ohi! missi, look a' dem black looking man! He da ketch de horse by de head." - At that moment the driver cried out-- "Hello! da, -wha' you gwine do wid my Bosses?"' He was silenced with a blow from a bludgeon delivered by a hand which he had not'seen, and which tumbled him fairly from his seat. Two or three men, covered with masks, and dressed with long, shaggy black hair, through which their wild, dark eyes only wel' visible, now appeared at the side of the carriage, the door of which was torn open in an instant. a lWho are jou . What .do you mean by this violence? de- manded the widow, looking very pale, but speaking very firmly. One of them replied harshy, seizing her by the wrist as he spoCie- . , ' "Come out, my goPod woman!--that' we may hev' a good look at your handsome wisage!" * ' AMBUSCADE. , 6 "I will come out! Re lase me. I need no help." *'All right, ma'am; I'm all ciwility!" said the. fellow, as h made way for her to descend. The negro girl sate tremblingil the carriage, after her mistress had got out. "Out with you, Jenny!' cried the spokesman, taking the se, vant by her ears, and with so much effect, that she screamed vic lently. , Shut up your fish-trap, you ;" he cried, with a terribl voice and oath; " or rll tear out your tongue, and eat it withou bread or gravy." The threat, and the action by which it was accompanied, cause, her to redouble her screams, and to cling the closer to the vehi cle; upon which, the other jumped in, and tumbled her out head long, as if she had been a bale of cotton. -He then proceeded, witl singular industry, to search the carriage: possessing himself among other things, of a richly inlaid mlahomgany case, which h drew from beneath the seat. By this time, his confederates ha cut the traces, and freed the horses. The servant girl continues her screams, until flung down, and her mouth bandaged-an op eration which was performed by one of the assailants, with thl celerity of an old practitioner. The widow, Eveleigh, meanwhile stood silent, anxious, breathless, with- expectation and apprehen sion, butt maintaining a noble and fearless demeanour. At thi moment, a pistol shot was heard ahead--then another, and an other. At the sound the lady could not suppress the murmur- "My son-my son! My God! protect my son!" She clasped her hands with increasing apprehensions, while thl new terrors in her face were too strong for concealment; her knee trembled ,beneath her, and she sank back for support against a 1tree Two of the assailants had remained - with the carriage. These started into activity as the sound of the fire-arms reached them They came from the road in front, along which young Eveleig] and Fordham had ridden. A moment only did they pause; ther page: 64-65[View Page 64-65] O* THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. simultaneoisly, darting forward, they hurried in the direction of the scene of action. The widow watched them with eager terrors, as they spedl along, chiefly under cover of the trees, pursuing the roadside, but avoiding, as much as possible, the exposure of their persons. Suddenly they crouched beneath opposite trees, and, in a second or two after, the tramp of a horse, at a run, smote their ears. At the sound, one of them raised a light carbine which he carried, and which he cocked in readiness. He had scarcely done so, when young 1Eveleigh came in sight, pushing the poney to the utmost. Then was heard the cry of the mother-at the top of her voice-but very faintly, at that distance ;-reaching the ears of the banditti only. a"Back, Arthur, back? my son. Beware! beware! There are enemies in ambush!" The youth seemed to hear; and appeared disposed to gather up his horse: but he was anticipated by the ambush. A shot was fired, and the little steed went down, forward on his face, pitching the youth over his head.. The two assailants then darted out of their place of hiding, and threw themselves upon him as he was feebly endeavouring to rise, He struggled as well as he could, being evidently somewhat stunned by his fall; but what could his unhardened sinews avail in a struggle with two ruffians, practised in all sorts of encounter, with frames well set, and in the full vigour of manhood. While they held him down, prepa- ring to bind his arms, the mother rushed towards them, crying aloud- "Spare him, spare my son, and you shall have all-all! Any thing! Spare him! Let him rise!" She did not wait to see the effect of her entreaty, but pushed in between the, assailants. It was a' noble exhibition of maternal courage, reckless for herself, moved only by the one impulse of love and devotion to her young. \ One of the ruffians seized her an4, bore her back, while the other kept his knee upon the breast of the youth. j AMBUSCADE. - "My son! my son! Spare him! spare him!" she continued to cry, " and I will give you every thing," "Shut up, good woman, shut up! There's no danger, ef the young cub will only keep quiet. There's no harm done him yit; and none will happen to him ef so be he has sense enough not to pro- vocate us. I reckon he's done some mischief already. See, Fire Dick,"-to his companion-" both pistols is empty." As he spoke, two fellows, masked and bearded like himself, with false hair, and great handkerchiefs muffling their heads and faces, ran towards them from above. To-these, the bandit who had just spoken, addressed himself- "Well! How goes it " "Bad enough! Bill Sykes is on his back, and has'nt a word for a dog. This yo ng bull-pup has laid him out with a bullet through the head." A fierce glance from all parties was addressed to the young man; and, having secured -he prisoners from whom they had most to fear, they drew aside for a moment to consult. "What hey' you done with the overseer, Fordham?" demand- ed one who seemed to be the leader, and who was, in fact, the Squatter, Bostwick. " e's fast." "You hev'nt killed him?" "No; only stunted him with a backstroke over the head and neck, arnd then tied Lim down to a sapling." "Is he safe l" "I reckon! He don't move, and kaint!" "How was it?" "Why, he got down to drink at the branch, and when he was drinking, Bill Sykes jumped out of the bush, and knocked him into the water with the butt-eend of his rifle. As the young fel- low seed that, setting on his horse; he let fly at Bill, first one shot, then another, tqaough I reckon 'twas the first bullet that did 6* page: 66-67[View Page 66-67] the thing. Then he wheeled about, and went off at full speed. I pulled on him, bhut 'twas only a snap; and we had to turn about, Sam and Dme, to manage Fordhami who had raised himself up out of the water, and was aiming to get at his horse and hollers, where we saw he had two pistols. IBut Hgin him a settler, side of his head,which sprawled him, and Sam took up his horse." "Well, we must see to business. Bill Sykes, you say, wants no help "' "He's ate his last bacon!" "Let him lie then, 'till we see to our work. We must pick up the niggers, and be off. There's not much time." "Did you gut the carriage, Best?" demanded one of the fel- lows. - N o I there's nothingz much, I reckon," "No money '?" "Not that I see--but I hev'nt looked in yet." "I'll see to that;"' said Fire Dick otherwise Dick Norris. Each of the parties darted off in the direction of carriage and wagon, except Bostwick; who, having already quietly possessed himself of the mahogany box of Mrs. Eveleigh, which he had somehow contrived to conceal from all parties in the bushes, seemed to take the farther adventure quite coolly. To him, as he stood, apparent- ly meditating, the widow now advanced. Her son lay bound and writhing beside the road. Is your purpose plunder?" she demanded of the Squatter.- "Take, then, all that is in the carriage and wagon-money, goods-but release my son, and let usgo." "You've got money in the carriage?" asked the Squatter. "Fifty guineas only, whichh you will find in a small mahogany box beheath the seat,"' "Hem! What else in the box?"7 "Nothing but a few papers of value to nobody but myself." "We must see to that! Do you come with me. The young m 2 yo l A'lYB U i0;U'Ai j , I fellow has killed one o:' our people. That must be paid for-or, as the Bible says-' life for life!'" "Take all!" -she exclaimed, "all-as I said before, and let us go, , "'Twont do! We';e got all that's here, a'ready. There must be more, ef you would save the young un from a dog's death." "What, more! Hw shall I pay you? What sum? When?" "We'll think of that! But; jest now, look you, I must put a little hitch about yolr arms.' He pulled a bundle of cord from his pocket as he spoke. "You will not dare!" exclaimed the lady, drawing herself up with loathing and ind:gnation in her face. Her indignation was felt by her son. The youth shrieked in fury, and writhed desper- ately in his bonds. But the ruffian was unmoved, and laid his hand upon the arm cf the widow. At first she recoiled-her eyes were filled with st ch gleams of anger, as promised desperate struggle. But she subdued herself; feeling that any effort at re- sistance must only expose her to worse indignities. With this re- flection she held out her wrists. "Well! I call that sensible and civli ;'? cried the ruffian, " but the other way, ma'am-behind your back, ef you please. You see, ef I was to tie yor hands in fiont, you might gnaw through." The calculating rascal! Again the lady recoiled with a natural feeling of loathing and indignation; again, however, the reflec- tion of a moment caused her to subdue it. "Now, ma'am, ef you please," continued the ruffian, "you'll jest set down with your back to this sapling. You kin lean agin it, you see. 'Twill be a help to you." She sat down passively, and suffered herself to be fastened to the tree. ' "Now, I'll jest warni you to keep quiet! 'Twilbe no use to bellow, for there's nobody to hear you but our own people; and they'll not be overquick to help you, onless it's out of the world; page: 68-69[View Page 68-69] AdO =llltHi E1WURJLJ A U JLJ '.LJ. JJLiJL. A JF. for they don't like a woman's hollering when there's no help for it;, and it won't take them much to make 'em knock you and the young fellow over the head." With no more words, having made both the parties as secure as possible, the bandit turned off to join his comrades, leaving the widow with a soul swelling to bursting with fruitless indigna- tion, with fear and ill-suppressed rage, for which she could find no relief even in feminine tears. But, when she looked upon her son, terror, in respect to his danger, suspended every other feeling. Oh! Arthur-my son! my-son! What is to become of us-? They will kill you, my son; they will kill us both i" The son groaned in answer, and once more writhed desperately, but vainly, in his bnds. Exhausted with his ineffectual struggles, and humbled by the sense of shame and impotence, tears, hot and scalding, gushed from his eyes, which he closed, in very mortifica- tion, as if to conceal the weakness which he could not control. CHAPTER XI. A CHANGE IN THE ASPECT OF AFFAIRS. THE MOUSE GNAWS THROUGH THE LION'S MEESHES. HALF an hour might have elapsed, or even a longer period, and the outlaws had all disappeared from the sight of the two fettered parties-having now addressed themselves to the. duty of capturing the negroes, and overhauling the wagon, which slowly followed in the rear. But few words had passed between the mother and her son. They had nothing consoling in their thoughts, and no motive, accordingly, 'for speech. They crouched, gloomy, wretched, and full of apprehensions, on the spot, and against the . . . / A CHANGE IN THE ASPECT OF AFFAIRS. 69 trees to which they had been separately fastened ;-when the ear of the widow caught a rustling sound among the bushes behind her, and, a moment after, she heard a voice, which she readily re- cognized as that of her maid servant, Jenny. It was at this mo- ment that she remembered that the ruffian who ordered the girl from the coach, and finally hurled her out of it, had called her by her true name-a fact to be remembered. The girl had been much more fortunate than her mistress. It is true,.-he outlaws, provoked by her clamours, had bandaged her jaws; but they had neglected, in their anxety to secure the widow, and search the carriage, to bandage her arms also. The sly negro, in the general confusion, and not being a conspicuous personage; was allowed to crawl away unperceivec into the bushes; and, in the variety of interests which the out:aws had to consult, remained, for a time, altogether unremembered. While the two, having charge of the widow, ran forward to plant an ambush for the son, tie girl had found close shelter in the thickets-had succeeded in stripping the bandage from her jaws, and had so far recovered her wits, or her instincts, as to feel the lesire of being useful. Keeping still the cover of the thicket, she had wound her way along the road, though at a safe distance from it, towards the spot subsequently marked by the struggle with young Eveleigh, and the pinioning of himself and mother; and now she stood but a few paces dis- tant in the woods, seemingly afraid to venture out upon the pub- lic road, on the margin of which the captives had been bound.- Her object was to feel if the coast was clear. She coild see her mistress and the youth, from her place of harbourage, blt the high- way, up and down,was beyond her survey. "Hi! missis, hi! Da me! Da Jinney! I jls' want for know ef dem black people gone." "Oh! Jenny, yes; I don't see them!" "Look up de road, missis, ef you kin! Le' me ye: wha' you kin see up de road, fus', 'fore I come-!" page: 70-71[View Page 70-71] 70 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF, "I see nothing but the carriage, Jenny. I see no person about it. They are gone, but I hear a noise." "I yer dat noise too, but he's fur away on de road. I kin come out den?"l Yes, yo my, but look sharp, Jenny." Yer's me!" cried the girl emerging from the wood. "Lor' a massy -;-an' he tie you, andmass Art'ur! De black debbils-he tie you, missus? You got knife?" "Put your hand in'my pocket-you will find one." "I hab 'em-le' me cut you loose." 'Arthur first, Jenny," said the mother, earnestly. But the girl was' already slashing away at the ploughnes which had been used to secure the mistress. In a moment, her arms were free, The mother then seized the knife, herself, to perform the grateful office of giving freedom to her son. A few more seconds sufficed f?r this, and the youth sprang up with a new sense of manhood, and full of a fierce desire for the,c nflict. "Now, Arthur, my s6n,fly to the woods, hide yourself, see if you can find a horse, and speed for help." "No, indeed, mother," ciied the youth, resuming his empty ri- fle and pistols, which had been suffered to lie where they had fal- len in the scuffle; do yotu and Jenny take to the woods. Push -down for the swamp, which is only a few hundred yards below, and there Mide yourself." "What do you propose to do, Arthuri " she asked, in some trepidation, seeing him proceed to reload his rifle; the outlaws having thought it quite unnecessary to deprive him of his powder horn and pouchy "I must see After Fordham, mother. They may have killed him, or boundlhim, as they bound us. If he lives, there are two of us, both armed-" "But two, Arthur, against six." "Five only, mother, now! One you recollect-" l \ - A CHANGE IN THE ASPECT OF AFFAIRS. 71 "Yes, yes!" "Well, two against five, both armed, is no bad ambush: and we shall surprise the rascals. You will see." "But if poor Fordham should have been killed, my son?" "I will revenge him ," cried the noble boy, driving home the bullet, and, immediately after, bounding off along the road in the direction of the spot where Fordham had been knocked down.- His mother wrung he' hands passionately. She dared not call out after him, lest she saould alarm other ears; and it was only with a great effort of will, that she controlled her feelings, and adopted the youth's counsel, by burying herself in the woods be- yond. Yet she only tut herself in partial cover. Her anxiety led her still to pursue ' course parallel with the road, keeping the same direction with her son. It did not require many minutes to enable Arthur 3veleigh to cover the space between, and to reach the borders of the creek where the outlaws had attacked the overseer and himself. There were all the signs of the struggle between Fordham and the ruf- fian who assailed him; but Fordhani himself was not to be seen. While the youth looke. about in wonder, he heard his name cal- led, by some one in the wood, and reasonably conjectured the per- son to be Fordham. I7e pushed through the bushes to the spot, and found him, bruizeq and beaten-hardly well recovered from the stunning blow by which he had been felle1 to the ground,- but otherwise not injured. He was tied down ;o a sapling, as the widow and the youth had been; and, beside him, within a cou- ple of feet, lay the corpse of the outlaw, stark and stiff, whom Ar- thur himself had slain--a spectacle which made the boy shudder, and grow suddenly sick; but which poor Fordham had been com- pelled to endure for a goodly hour! But time was pressing. The exigency of the case d'd not allow Arthur Eveleigh to give way to any nervous emotions, however natural. Their assailaLts, as they reasonably apprehended, might , i ' page: 72-73[View Page 72-73] 72 T-HE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. be soon again u-on them, and the youth, strongly exerting his moral nature, overcame his sickness, and cut the cords which fet- tered the overseer. Fordham, on his feet, rapidly recovered him- self. His own rifle, and that of the dead man, lay together, with an odd pistol belonging to the outlaws. Of these, Arthur and himself took quick possession. "And now," said Fordham, "I want to see if I can make out this carrion." And he stooped to-examine the body of the slain man. But Arthur turned away-though a strange fascination seemed, a mo- ment after, to compel him to gaze upon the face of the victim, from whose head Fordham had removed a wilderness of false, black and matted hair. The 'whiskers came off with like readiness. "He's a stranger to me," said Fordham. "He's a mighty bad look, and here's a cut over his cheek, a great slash, that looks as if Ztwas done with a broad sword, and it has'nt been so very long. I reckon he was some tory. Your shot was well p'inted, Mr. Ar- thur-it's gone, reckon, straight through his heart. It's worked a most amazin' big hole in his bosom. See to that." The youth loobed as directed, but turned away quickly. "Enough, Fordham! We have precious little time. We had better be loading, and putting ourselves in readiness." "What's to be done? Where's your mother?" "In the woods with Jenny. I told her to push into the swamp where she could hide so close that a hundred men could'nt find her in a three day's'search-" "Onless it so happened! But you lre right. And what now are we to do?" - "There are two of us-there are four or five of these outlaws. They have gone down the road, but will probably return. We can ambush them, as they ambushed us; we have three rifles, and as many pistols." "Good, Mr. Arthur! But to ambush them, we must hide t HOW :BLAOCKIBRDS ARE- TAKE. R' t'other side of the spo; where they tied you .and your mother. If they git to that spot aad find you gone, they'll take the woods on us." "True! Let's pusA for it, Fordham." "I'm consenting;" answered tee other, who had just finr ished loading the two rifles. These he took on his shoulder, The pistols were loaded also; and the whole pretty eq lally divi4ed between the two. In A few moments, they struck into the woods, Fordham taking the lead, and following the edge of the road, with a bold stride, ye; a vigilant eye to every bush that stirred. He had recovered all his energies, and now showed himself, :a he wa, a thorough Master of woodcraft. We leave the two in their progress; having almost reached the spot where the carriage had been halted and turned across the road. At this moment, and when Arthur, seeing nothing, was about to push forward, Fordham caught his Wrist, suddeidy, and dhew him back into the shelter of the thicket. Let us leaye them, and look after omr out- laws for awhile. CHAPTER XII. HOW BLACKBI:RDS ARE TAKEN, AND HOW BLACOKIRDS FLY. HAVING, as they fancied, secured the only persons who were likely to give them any trouble,-having ransacked the carriage, and taken into their ovn keeping any small valuables which had previously eluded theLr search-our banditti, under the conduct of the Squatter, Bostwick, now prepared to turn tLeir attention upon the negroes and the approaching wagon. This vehicle might I . I' page: 74-75[View Page 74-75] 74 THE SWORD AND- THE DISTAFF. have been three quarters of a mile in the rear of the carriage when the latter was arrested, the inmates taken captive, and the assault made upon Fordham and young Arthur. ' Of these events, the negroes, by whom the wagon was accompanied and driven, had no sort of conjecture, at the moment when they happened. The road was one of those admirably circuitous ones, so common in our-forest country, which seldom afford you a direct survey of the route for three hundred yards together; and, trudging on, with tongues incessantly:employed, singing or talking, the negroes had ears for no sounds but those which they themselves produced. The wagon was mostly filled with stores, sugar, coffee, flour, ba- con, blankets an- negro clothes. These loaded it rather heavily for the six mules by which it was drawn. To this load, you may add, at intervals, two or three of the negroes, who, from tempora- ry lameness, or a less degree of strength than, the rest, were per- mitted, occasionally, to relieve their fatigue bya lift in the wagon. One. of these negroes, belonging to Captain Porgy, was, by the way, an expert violinist. His only possession was a cracked and ancient fiddle, tht seams of which had been carefully, but rough- ly, closed with resin from the pine trees, gathered as he passed. With this instrument, he contrived to increase the noise and the merriment whichl still accompanied their progress, ,and ito lessen the consciousness of fatigue on the part of his companions.- Pomp, or Pompey-that was his name-as might be expected, was a great favourite; and his pleaof lameness, we may add, was not examined tooeclosely by the driver of the wagon, when it was remembered that his violin could be made to work while he played. The negroes were fourteen -in number, seven of them being the property of Mrs. Eveleigh, the rest of Captain Porgy-all of whom, with one ex'eption, had been recovered from the clutches of the insatiate I'Cblonel Moncrieff and his colleagues. These were- all walking, with' the exception of the wagoner, Tobias, "Ponmp, the violinist, and Dembo, a young fellow of sixteen; the . . . HOW BLACKBIRDS ARE TAKEN. 75 two latter being within the wagon; Dembo looking out from the opening of the cover, in the rear, while Ponmp occupied a similar position in front; the post of honour being naturally claimed for the violin. Tobias bestrode the wheel-horse immediately in front of him, and when Pomp was not actually playing, he and Tobias kept up a running commentary upon the ways before them, the events through which they had passed, their recent captivity in the British Hulk, and their fortunate escape at the very last mo- ment. Thus travel'ing and employed, the 2arty at length wound its way slowly into the plain, at the farthest opening of Which- perhaps a quarter of a mile distant-the carriage of the widow could now be seen, awkwardly enough, turned directly across the road. I The situation of -his vehicle was first beheld by the pioneer of the party, an able bodied, fine looking fellow, named John, or 'John Sylvester, as he preferred to be called, after a former owner by whom he had been reared. John was a calm, and rather thoughtful fellow, of quick comprehension, keen sight, and good judgment. He sto't immediately, looked earnestly about him, and, after surveying; for a few moments, the situation of the car- riage, he turned quietly back to the wagon and his 2ompanions. "( Look yer, Toby,'---speaking to Tobias, the wagoner-" dem hoss of missis nebber tu'n dat carriage 'cross de road, as you see 'em. He hab'somebody for tu'n 'em so, fo sure!" "Ki!" quoth Tob'ias, looking out and drawing up his team, as he gazed. " Wha' at? He choke up de road for true. Sartain, John, de hoss nebber tu'n 'em so hese'f (heself) " "Nebber!" continued John, "and you see nudder t'ing, Toby-- de hoss tak' out anq gone! He nebber tak' out hese'f." "Da's true! Wha' dis " "Now, Toby, you hab eye! Look to de little wood ob scrubby oak; you see? Yo see hoss hitch, and der's a coal black hoss hitch wid udder hoss in dat scrubby oak?" page: 76-77[View Page 76-77] 7 '1T6 THE SWORD AlND TlrE DISTAFF. "I see! Coal black hoss dey, for true, John." "Missis aint got no coal black hoss, Toby." "Nebber." "Toby, Im jub6us, der's something wrong in dis bis'ness. Boy, you 'member dat d n poor buckrah, Bossick? He hab big, rawhone, coal black hoss, same time he catch we, and carry we to town." You sure he been Bossick was catch we, John ." "Enty I know! He big beard like goat, and head o' hair like wolf, nebber been blin' ine, so I can't tell the d- n blear eye son ob a skunk. I srmell 'em out, same as pole-cat in my nose. I tell you, Toby, Bossick was the same poor buckrah been nab we. He de same one was ride de rawhone black. He can't fool dis nigger. I'm jubous dat is Bossick hoss you see dey in de scrub- by oak. I'm jubous Bossick is yer in dese parts. I t'ink I feel de smell of de pole-cat in my nose jes' now. Dat carriage aint cross de road for nuttin' (nothing)." "Well,--Wha' for do?" demanded Toby, in considerable excite- ment. "Da's de t'ing; -but I tell you, Toby, John Sylvester nebber guine le' Joe Bossick put he dirty, poor buckrah paw 'pon him shoulder agen! i nebber g ine back to dat d---- salt-water hole in de wharf ef I kin help it. You inus' do wha' you kin! You can't lef' de hosses-dat you know. But, dis nigger will hide hese'f in de wood, and be ready for a run; and you better gi' all dese niggers a chance. Better we bury wese'f up to de neck in de swamp, where we knows de varmints, dan le' 'em car- ry we off to de British Hulk, I'm a t'inking." "You right! But wha' me for do?" "You stick to de wagon. You will hab for dribe, you know. But Pomp kin slip out wid me; and Dembo dere; and any ob de fellows wha' chooses, kin mak' track (run) same as you see me mak'." " - * ! *" ' "I \ HOWt BLACKBIRDS ARE TAK3. "But you aint guire run 'fore you see wha's a-coming? "No! But I guine to stan' ready for wha's a-coming, boy. You see dat close t'icl (thick or thicket) 'pon de lef' ob de road? I'm jubous der's some d---d varmint, like a poor buckrah, da's a-lyin' close 'pon de lookout in dat same t'ick. Yor dribe slow; I watch 'em. Da's all. You yer, (hear) boys? J3s' wha' you see me do, ef you hab sense, youguine do de same as me. De lame nigger wha' can't run, le' 'em lie close and kick! Ef Bossick nebber see nigger legs 'fore to-day, I 'spec he will hab sight dis time! Yer!" Thus warned and counselled, the negroes were all or the lookout. John'Sylvester, for his own part, took care to suffer the wagon to keep between himself and the suspicious wood he had pointed out. IPomp, the viol nist, slipped out of the wagon, still keeping his fiddle in hand, and followed in the steps "of John. The oth- er negroes, with one or two exceptions, seemed rather stupefied and undetermined, at the notion tlat they were in some peril of a return to captivity. They crowded together at the tail of the wagon, as a flock of sieep threatened on all sides. Tobias drove s slowly, keeping up a soliloquy, in under tones, which betrayed his fear to his mules, if to no other auditor. In tlis way, the party had advanced about a couple of hundred yards, when a shrill whistle was heard from the thicket to whic-a John had pointed. Tobias drew up at the same instant." "You ye'r, (hear) John Sylbester?" quoth Tobias. "I ye'r, Toby! You dribe on! Don't you stop! Ef you see any t'ing like trouble, gee de mule de whip, and pusL. We only seben mile firom home, I t'ink." "Wha' dat?" cried Tobias. "I see Buckr&h, for true." "In de t'ick?" "He da peep!" "Ha! de d--d snake in de grass!" was the br'ef commen tary of John, as, squatting, he peered beneath the wheels of the 17 . *-I page: 78-79[View Page 78-79] '7t8 TTHE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. wagon. The mules were again in motion. Hardly had they ad-- vanced ten paces, when there was a rush from the thicket. A cou- ple of fierce looking brigands, black with hair, and beard, and smut, appeared a little in front of the mules, each carrying a rifle in his grasp. At that moment, John Sylvester disappeared in the opposite woods; Pomp, still carrying his fiddle, close in his wake. They had barely gained the cover, when three other bandits made their demonstiation close beside the wagon. Stop, there, you d--d black Belzebub!" was the cry of one of them to the wagoner, who now began to whip up his weary and sluggish mules. The negroes, recovering their consciousness and energies, proceeded to scatter in various directions; but in a state of confusion, which left them doubtful which way to go.- The mules were forcibly arrested, and taken out of the wagon.- Tobias Was tumbled from his perch, still grasping the lines. "Hello! maussa! wha' dis?" demanded the poorfellow. A rude blow of the fist, dexterously planted it his jaws, muz- zled him completely; and. while one of the party roped him, the others scattered in pursuit of the flying negroes. A terrible sum- mons, followed by a pistol shot, fired over their heads, brought three or four of them to a dead halt. In fear and trembling, they suffered themselves to be caught and corded by a single pur- suer. With these, Tobias, and a lame fellow in the wagon, the brigands found themselves in possession of six of the fugitives.- There were still eight to be taken, and, leaving one of their num- berin charge of thi captives, two of the four dashed into the op- posite woods whither most of the negroes had been seen to'fly; while the remaining two hurried back to their horses, in order the better to resume the chase. I * ' 4'TOO QrUICK ON TRIGGER." 79 CHAPTER XIII. "rTOO QUICK ON TRIGGER." IT will be remembered, at the close of the scene taat witnessed the extricat'on of young Arthur from his bonds, and the recovery of Fordhar, the overseer, that these two had advanced to the place where the assault had been made upon the carriage; and that, when the former was about to emerge eagerly from cover, he was arrested suddenly by his companion, in consequence of some discovery which had been made by the latter. The discovery was that of the horses of the party, which, as we have seen, were all fastened to swinging limbs of trees, in the cover of a little clump of scrubby oaks. The quick, sagacious experience of Fordham, at once showed him the advantages which were pro- mised by this discovery. "Stop, Mr. Arthur;-we must think a little." "What do you see, Mr. Fordham?" "The ho':ses! Our horses, and those of the inimy." "Where?" "Yonder ;-in the scrubby oaks." "We have them!" cried the youth eagerly, seeing the uses of the discovery at a glance. "Perhaps!" replied the other. "The first thing is to know if any one watches the horses. We must see to that. We must fetch a compass through the woods, and come in on the back of them. I must give you a lesson in woodcraft. We are to see without being seen: If they see us, we lose all that we have gained. A rifle shot from behind a log may tumble both of us, and these rascals won'; stop at a shot, if they see us making:at them with page: 80-81[View Page 80-81] 80 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. we'pons in our hands. Let us round this thick, and git across the road above." The caution necessary, rendered the operation a tedious one; but it was managed with perfect success by the practised woods- man; Arthur Eveleigh following promptly in his track, and emu- lating his circumspection. They wound their way under cover to the horses, and found them without any guard-the bandit need- ed all their forces for the pursuit of the negroes. In silence, and with great deliberation, Fordham proceeded to strip the horses of their saddles, which he concealed in the thicket. To remove the bridles was the next operation. "What's the use of this, Fordham 2" was the whispered query of his young companion. "To gair time-to make the horses as useless to the inimy as possible. But we will leave two of the nags saddled, and if you will lead these quietly, through the wood ahead, and get them across the creek, where we can find them at a moment, they will help you and your mother to git on. These rogues are all below us, I reckon,:and looking out for the wagon. It's cl'ar they're aiming at a great plunder. They'll gut the wagon if we let 'em." "But, couldn't we mount, and ride the rascals down?" demand- ed the youth. "And draw a rifle shot from every bush as we pass No! no! Mr. Arthur, that would be to spile the whole business. We've got a leetle the advantage now, and rm for keeping it. I'd much rether cut the throats of all the horses than mount them, now, when these scamps are scattered through the wood. But let us stir ourselves. Will you take the two horses down to the creek, while I keep watch?" "Yes; but what will you do with the rest?" "Turn 'em loose, and let 'em pick about the woods. They'll be so much harder to be caught." "But why not take them all over the creek 2" ' , . I "TOO QUICK ON TRIGGER." 81 "I'm afraid; lest we should be caught, and be attacked ona- wares. It's better so, as I tell you. Ef you don't like the job, Mr. Arthur, say so, aLd I'll do it while you keep watch hbre; though I'm rather the better hand, I'm a-thinking, to do the watching part of the business." "No, Fordham; I'll do it." "Hurry ften, Master Arthur, and be back as soon as possible. With our three rifles, we can make these rascals feel very sore, ta- king them onexpectedly out of these bushes. I'll Lot turn the other horses loose till you git back." The youth had but three hundred yards or so to go, and he ex- ecuted his duty with sufficient celerity, and with success. He crept back, and into cover, alongside of Fordham, with all the stealth of an experierced woodman. He was on Lis best per- formance, ard taking Lis first lesson in war; and proud and soli- citous accordingly. "And now that we are ready for the rascals, I'll jest slip the bridles and let the horses free. Do you lie close, keep behind that log, and see that you liav'nt spilt your priming." A few moments sufficed to let the horses loose, ainc then Ford- ham crept to a thick clump of bushes, some ten yaros from the spot occupied by Arthur, and laid himself at length behind it. The horses, for a while, as if unconscious of their enlargement, stood with heads down in the same place. Soon, however, they began to turn, now to one side and now to the other;-anon they thrust their noses to the earth, and nibbled at the meagre grasses; gradually,' tey began to wander, and, after a short interval, to scatter themselves about the wood. Meanwhile, the wagon ap- peared in sight, and our party, lying perdu, beheld the rush upon it from the wood, and saw the result, as we have thus far de- scribed it. Their turn was about to come. "I count the whole five, Mr. Fordham;" murmured Arthur crawling nig- to his companion. I page: 82-83[View Page 82-83] 82 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. I "Yes; and they've work to do before they catch Jack Sylves- ter. He's off. It's him, I know, that walked this side of the wagon; and Captain Porgy's Pomp was jest behind him with his fiddle. With two horses only, the rascals will never catch them all in this world." "They've gone after them." "Three of them, I think. No; only the two mounted men. I still see three, near the niggers they've caught. They're tying them. Well-that's strange! I wonder what-they can mean? They surely don't intend to steal 'emr ag'in, now the- British have gone." ' And Fordham raised himself uneasily, as if disposed to take the field. "Liel close, Mr. Fordham--they're coming this way." "Sure enough: two of them! They're coming after the horses, I reckon. Well, with two off, in chase of the runaways, one minding the wagon, and only two to manage at a time, I think, Mr. Arthur, we ought to manage 'em. If we can pick off these two skunks, it 'll take more courage than I give the other chaps credit for, to bring 'em down to attack us in our ambush.- Now, don't be too eager, M: Arthur-keep down your heart. Shet your lips close, and spread out quiet on your left side. Don't you cock your we'pon 'till you're ready to let drive. There's always time enough for that. Perhaps you'd better wait 'till I give tongue with my rifle, and then yours can follow at the chap that you see still standing." "Let me shoot first, Mr. Fordham, if you please?" murmured the youth eagerly. "Well! But rIm afraid you'll be too onsteady;--you talk like it." "No! no!" answered the other," you'll see." "Well! well!",replied the overseer, good naturedly-- young fellows must begin some time or other! Only, Mr. Arthur, don't waste the bullet when you show where you take your rest. Don't "TOO QUICK ON TRIGGER." 83 let your heart thump so as to knock your eye out of the range. See to that." "I will!' in a subdued, yet agitated voice. No more was said between the parties; the approach of the two brigands requiring their utmost silence and attention. On a sudden, they were seen to halt. They had discovered that the horses had escaped from their place of fastening. One of them pointed to a couple of tfle animals which had wandered some fifty yards from the cover, and were now feeding up through an open pine ridge. They both turned aside in this direction. At this moment they were within long rifle range of the ambush. The course they LOW pursue I was calculated to take them entirely be- yond it. Ar-hur Eveleigh saw this, and, in his eagerness, his unwillingness that they should escape him, and, perhaps, from a miscalculation of the distance, he pulled trigger upon them. "Too far-too far!" muttered Fordham--"I was afear'd he'd be too quick on trigger!" "He's got it!" cried Ithe youth, almost too loudly for prudence. ",Only a -aste-a flesh-wound, Mr. Arthur!" said Fordham, who could better appreciate the effects produced by the shot.- The man aimed at was certainly hit. He was seen to spin round for a momen; like a top, while his right hand caught convulsive- ly the left arm just below the shoulders. "A little more to the left, Mr. Arthur, and the brllet would have bored him through the heart. Now it's only grazel the arm. He's got a taste, however, that'll operate mightily like a scare.- They'll fight shy of us, now; and we must-watch that they don't fetch a compass round us. Lie close and reload." Meanwhile, the companion of the wounded man hur ied to his assistance, and they both retired in the direction of the wagon.- Here, they were seen to tear off the coat of the sufferer, to exam- ine and to bandage up the wound. The fellow laid himself down, leaning with his head against a tree. The dressing .as. soon per- ' " ' . - i page: 84-85[View Page 84-85] formed, and Arttiur Eveleigh- was mortified immensely to discover, what- was sufficiently apparent, that the hurt. as Fordham had said, was to the flesh only. Not a bone was broken and the blood was quickly staunched. The wounded man was seen to lift his arm without assistance, and, after a few moments of repose, he got up and joined his comrades who had now retired to the woods, Ma if for consultation. CHAPTER XIV. "ESSONS IN WOODCRAFT. THE whole aspect of the affair had now undergone a serious change in the eyes of the outlaws. We must enter into their councils for a moment. Close by the side of the road, but con- cealed amid the shubbery which skirted it, three of the party had assembled, including the person who had been left in charge of the captured negroes. These, as they had all, by this time, been well secured with ropes, and were now grouped together at the side of the wagon, needed, perhaps, no close surveillance. Still, the party at the road-side, but a few paces distant, were ready, should there be any movement among the slaves. But they lay quiet, crouching close to the earth, and entirely subdued by their teri ors. The two absent outlaws were still in-pursuit of the fugi- tive negroes in the woods opposite. The three whom we now find in council,consisted of Bostwick, the squatter,Ralph Burke and Dick Norris-distinct persons all, certainly, but with such a family likeness among them, the result of great beards, mammoth wigs and- whiske, -all-of glossy back, and -similar- habits, thatv they I-- "ESSONS IN WOODCRAFT. 8' could really only distinguish each other by their voices. Bostwick, as was proper, was the person to open the conference upon the state of their affairs. "Well, boys, here's a trouble. These chaps haive got loose, and how, is' the puzzle." "No puzzle, I reckon ;" answered Burke. "They've been on- tied by that vench that you let slip out of the carriage. That's "I reckon it must be so;" answered Bostwick. "And how you come to let her slip, is a matter I can't see. You would take the carriage to yourself, and shet youri eyes to hafe (half) the business." "Yes; whar' was your eyes, Bostwick ." quoth Norris. "In the widow's pockets, I reckon;" muttered B e, with a shrewd approach to the truth. "I miss'd i sartain, somehow ;" replied Bostwick, composedly; but that's not the matter now. It's now-to see how we hev' to mend the slip. It's sartn sure that Fordham and the young man are loose, ancn it don't matter by whose hands. I suppose the widow's loose too a?" "There was only one shot, Bostwick ;" quoth Norris. "Well! What of that?" "Well! Theat would show there was only one man. Now, it's not so cl'ar- to me that Fordham's loose. He had quite too hard a hit o' the head to git the use of his eyes and fingers so mighty quick, ay, or his senses either. Now, if it should be only the young un." "Hardly! Ee's not go- the sense for it yet, though e's spunky, I know-I know him of old. I've seen and talked with him years ago, when he was'nt knee high. Ef 'twas only him, we could soon sarcumvent him. But it's not so easy work with Fordham, who is a sort of man-fox, I tell you; as cunning as a sarpent, and with a mighty hard head and fist in a fight." 8 page: 86-87[View Page 86-87] 86 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. "There was but one shot!" quoth Norris, pertinaciously. "Yes; and Fordham wasn't the man to shoot that, I'm think- ing," said Burke. "E he's the man you say, he d ha' held back ontil he could have made a better mark with the bullet. It's the boy, I tell you." "But suppose the man's along with him?" "Would Fordham ha' let the chap shoot a minnit before the time?" "I reckon he couldn't help it. The boy was always mighty hard-headed. But whether there's one or two, boys, there's only one way before us, and that's to find out, and take the back track upori 'em. So, up with you, Rafe Burke; we're the men for this business i We'll leave you, Norris, to keep an eye on the road and the negroes-seeing as how you're a wounded man; you're an oncombatant, as they say, and kin only do hospital sarvice." "Psho! kin do as much as ever. This here is only a scratch, and a mighty leetle one at that." "It come mighty nigh to making your cross, old fellow. The same bullet, only a leetle to the left,'would have worked out a but- ton hole in your ribs that no plaister could have shet up agin.- But, wLether you kin do much or leetle, aint a matter now. You kin use your rifle, at a push, and that's enough. Keep your eye on the niggers, and if Jeff Brydges and Tony Hines come in, afore we git back, keep 'em in 'till you hear the whistle, three times,- three short whistles and a long one. You lnow what that means? Then bring all hands to bear. We'll want you." "What's your first aim, now, Bostwick?" "To get on the back of these fellows, and see after the widow. Ef we kin git hold of her agin, supposing they've cut her loose and hid her, we shall be mighty nigh to making what tarms we please with her son and Fordham." Such was the ruffianly policy of the parties. Bostwick and Ralph Burke now disapppeared, pushing deeply into the woods, and ' "LESSONS IN WOODCRAFT. 87 carefully giving a wide berth to the precinct still occt pied by the carriage, where they now knew the two honest men to be in am- bush. Meanwhile, what of these, companions, the overseer'and young Arthur? We muss not suppose that Fordham was so inexperienced a woodman, as to continue in occupation of the spot which they had distinguished by the discharge of fire-arms. . He knew better the necessity, so admirably practiced among all the partisans of this region, of changing the ground the moment they had struck a blow, or in any way given reason to an enemy to think that they occupied it. Scarcely had Norris and Bostwick retreated from be- fore young Arthur's fire, than the overseer said to his inexperienced companion- "Now, Mister Arthur, this is jest no place for us! We must creep out and off; and shift quarters! Don't you rise ; for you don't know what spies may be looking out in this direction now.- Take your ri e in your right hand, and crawl, as well as you kin, side-ways; 'tell you git to the end of that log, then twist round, and crawl fora'd, in a straight track for the crossing at the creek." "What's tQ be done now, Mr. Fordham?" "Jest now, nothing, but what I tell you! To creep out of quar- ters in front of which you've cried aloud from the mnoutl- of a rifle 'here your inimies camp.' Yon aint to think that five rapscallions like these, aimning at plunder, will give up the s'arch when they know there's only two ag'inst 'em. They'll be upon us ag'in, and it's my notion now to take up a position jest where they mightn't look to find us." Shall we not push down to the swamp where mother's gone a" "No! no! Mr. Arthur,-there's some birds about your own fields that could teach you better than that. They takes care, when you're b'rding, to fly jest the farthest from where they hides their family; lnd they takes pretty good care, by crying, and chir- ruping, and screaming, and dipping about all the time, to make you II--- RYH CII i1 ILF page: 88-89[View Page 88-89] 88 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. believe jest the contrary. "Leave your motherto herself. I reckon they'll never do her any mischief, more than robbing her of all she has about her. But, we hain't got the protection of a petticoat; and we musn't risk any thing by having a petticoat in our way.- Do you jest follow now, as I show you, never rising up once higher than you do now, 'tell I give the word. One never knows when he's quite safe in sich an expedition as this; and the only chance is in jest playing the scout, as ef you had a wolf on one quarter, and a yellow, painter (panther) on t'other. Pull up now-its slow and tiresomeI walking, this, on all fours, or belly to the ground like a snake; but it's more sure than any other, and won't last very long." Fordham led the way with a will, crawling forward with a de- gree of ease and rapidity which was quite surprising to young Arthur, whose practice had never been in this sort of woodcraft. He was forever arrested by boughs of trees, fragments of the storm; by holes and hillocks; by vines and roots that, bulging out upon the surface, and concealed by dried leaves, caught foot or hand, or rifle, alternately, and to his perpetual annoyance. He was, a dozen times, pn the point of springing to his feet, .and braving every dan- ger; but that he was partly subdued by the reflection that his recent precipitation had already brought of mischievous results. Be- sides, he was watched by Fordham; who, ever and anon, put in his exhortation judiciously, to "' take it coolly," " don't be in a hur- ry, Mr. Arthur," only a leetle bit longer," and " it will soon be over.". When the patience of the youth was almost exhausted, Fordham uttered the grateful words of relief. "Now, Master Arthur, we can lift ourselves. We're in a pretty close thick, you see, of Gall and ' Hurrah-bushes, where it would puzzle the prophet, Daniel, to look us out. Here, do you lie quiet foir a bit, 'tell I take a view of the field of battle. I'll not be long; and yoi shall hear me hoot dike an owD when I'm coming back." He disappeared, almost with the words' affording young Arthur, I-' LESSONS tf WOODCRAFT. . 8 who was buried on eve y side in the thicket, no opoitunity for a sin le word. The place in which the latter found hilself was a sort of wolf-castle, as, in the southern country such places are apt to be called. The wild, matted, tangled, tough and altogether in- describable shrub, which the woodman described as the "H[urrah- bush," and for which we have no better name, constitu tes, in poor soil, and on the edges of swamps and drowned lands, one of the most formidable and impenetrable of forest walls ;--wil the gall- bushes, which are apt to associate with it, mass themselves togeth- er with a luxuriance of top, which effectually closes every aperture of sight. Beneath them, the bear and wolf, of the wider regions, or the hog and wild cat in the more civilized, f ind thei wa omak- ing the only avenues of egress and entrance; and the e of a sor to require the hunterof them, to crouch almost to their four-footed levels, with his feet half the time buried from sight ir mud pud- dles, while his hands labour incessantly in pushing the thick m as- ses of shrubbery from his eyes. Poor Arthur grew monstrous impatient in this gloomy abode. Fortunately, the eason had been dry, and he had no inconveniences to endure beyond those of constraint, But, to a youth of his eager and restles tempera- ment, this restraint was theworst of evils. His horizon was with- in reach of his grasp. The great trees above shut out the heav- ens. The wall of shrubbery about him left him no othf er objects of survey but the one monotonous wilderness of dull, green waste; and it was only by squatting and crouching almost to the earth, that he could pierce to the distance of a few yards alon the dark and sinuous beast-paths that ran below; the highwas of deer, and bear; of fox, and 'coon, and 'possum. But Fordham was not long absent. Soon, the faint hooting of the owl was heard, and, suddenly, the youth discovered the overseer within a fev paces of him, winding along beneath the bushes like a black snake, seeming- ly without motion, and certainly without noise. The stealthiness of his approach, caused the young man to start. Hii, enemies, 8* @ ; page: 90-91[View Page 90-91] 90 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAVFF. approaching with such facility, would have fatally surprised him. He learned a new lesson of woodcraft, and liis humility increased with his caution, in the glrowing conviction that he had a great deal yet to learn ;-a fact which fast young persons are very un- willing to believe, and rarely disoover for themselves. "They're tnaveiling, I'm sure:" quoth Fordham, with evident anxiety. "They're not idle, I could take my Bible oath ;-but whar'? That's the question! They make no signs! They're fox-bred, all of them; and are now winding about in the woods, without turning up a leaf. We- shall have to git closer nto the swamp, Master Arthur, and put some good sized pond on taie back of us, so that, if they find us, they'll have to take us in ,'ont.- Then we kin manage; only, you must let me tell you ivhen to shoot. Ef we throw away another shot, it's next to throwing a scalp along with it, and I'd rather not-,part with mine; and I'll die hard, Arthur, before I see them finger 3our'n." The youth caught the hand of the overseer, and pressed it warmly, but without speaking. "We must back out of these 'hurrah-bushes,' and git upon the tussocky places, among the pines. Jest now, do yo I follow me close; I reckon we kin go ahead boldly in this quarter, sonce it's onpossible that these rascallions kin have got quite to these parts. Here, away, and don't be oneasy." "But, my mother, Fordham!" ; "Well, we shall push for one side of the same swamp hat you told her to make for. As I told you, I'd a'most rether Fat she shouldn't be with us; for though she's a mighty strong-hearted lady, your mother, yet there is no answering for any woon an in a sudden4bloody skrimmage, with, maybe, sharp shooting, aild a wild Ingin-shouting at the same time going on. .There.'s n) telling what sort of supper these fellows mean to get ready for uli. Stoop a bit, now, Mister Arthur, and keep close to the bushel-we've got to cross a leetle rising ground jest here, before we lrach the swamp." . s , "ESSONS IN WOODCRAFT. 91 They were moving pretty quickly over this4ract, when, seeing Arthur a little too erect, the woodman caught his wrist and pulled him down. "Squat-close-quiet now-es (as) you are!" sa'd Fordham, in a whisper. IIist now, don't you hear 2" "Nothing! What is it?" "There was a whistle, jest there to the right-hist! Again! Don't you hear it?" Arthur fancied' he did hear something like a whistle, but added- "It's a bird's, Fordham." "Ay--but a sort of bird that's born without feathers, Arthur! Creep, now-hands and knees--and take care not to jostle a bush- a leetle more this way. We must make for them cypresses, jest ahead; there is, likely, a pond behind them, and we'll put it to the back of us." "All this was said in a whisper. The two moved forward; Ar- thur exerting all his will in subduing the eager anxieties that dif- fused a feverish glow over his whole system. He was almost breathless when Fordham paused, on the edge of a smnall tract of soft ooze, which indicated the terminus of the little r'sing ground over which they had been crossing. "Now," said the latter, still in a whisper; " we'll work round this little ooze, and git upon the tussock among their big cypres- presses. There are, you see, some bay bushes jest in front of them, 'which will do to cover us. We must still crcwl, for that whistle is a little nigher than you reckon, and we must use all our caution." He led the way in the manner he described. Never did fellow, carrying two rifles, exhibit such agility. Arthur could scarce con- ceive, though he beheld it, how the thing was done I He found his one rifle, though a short one, and his pistols, a sufficient bur- den, pursuing Such a progress, and, half thie time, in a crouching, page: 92-93[View Page 92-93] 92 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. or crawling attitude. But one of the rifles carried by Foirdham, was the German yager, short, and with a strap attached, which the overseer contrived to bind pretty close to his body, and beneath it, when he crawled; the stock being just under his left shC ulder. His right hand grasped the long rifle, which he held above the ground. The two soon reached the designated tussocl;, and crouched quietly behind the bay or laurel bushes. "Now," said Fordham, let us reprime. I reckon we'v 3 spilt the powder from our pans." He himself lifted the cover of his rifle pan with great d Libera- tion; but the incautious Arthur threw his open without heed, suffering the click to be sufficiently heard. "Ah! Mister Arthur," whispered the woodman, reproachfully, "that will never do. You've got a mighty deal to l'arn. That click kin be heard jest as far as the whistle of that ere birf'. One talks to the other so as he kin onderstand. In these swamp i oods, so still as they are now, I kin hear the click of a rifle fifty lyards, and ef I'm not mightily mistaken, these scamps can hear t too. We'll try 'em! Now-are you primed?" "I am." "Jest then give me your cap. Lie close now, and keep ready. We'll just draw their shot, ef so be they're in rifle distaice.- You'll see what eyes these fellows have for an inimy, ef so be they've got round, as I'm thinking they. hev', to the edges of the swamp." He elevated the cap upon the rod of his gun, just beside one ' of: the cypresses, showing the cap, only, above a bunch of laurel. Scarcely had he done done so, when the report of a rifie was I heard. The rod was lowered instantly, the cap was untoucped--- the aim had been six inches below it-and the ripping of tLe bul- let through the bark of the cypress, showed how narrow would have been the escape of a iaan occupying the same position "You seel The cursed skunks!" b suk. (: THE FAT TURKEY WALKS INTO THE TRAP. .93 "Can't we get a crack at them, Fordham?" "Ef we could, I'd say take it; buthe close, and keep your fire. I'll riconn'itre." And the shrew woodman crept away down the baLk-side and disappeared. Arthur soon lost sight of his person among the bushes on the right, and everything remained as still as if the re- gion had never been inhabited. CHAPTER XV. THE FAT TURKEY WALKS INTO THE TRAP, WHLE the youth remained, thus, perdu, confused and impa- tient, but, by this time, fully tutored in the necessity of keeping quiet and watchful where he had been placed, ten minutes might have passed; to him seemingly a good half hour. I[e was sud- denly awakened to increased agitation and anxiety, by hearing a second rifle shot about twenty paces on his right. He con- ceived, rightly, that-this shot was from the overseer, and ea- gerly began to anticipate the necessity, himself, of taking part in the action. But a deep silence again followed, and ten minutes more may have elapsed, when he was suddenly conscious of a sound among the bushes as of a stick broken. He turned his eyes in this quarter, guaged it with his rifle, and, though expect- ing Fordham, stood prepared to meet an enemy. He was reas- sured by a chirp, not louder than that of the cricket from a split- log, and the next moment the overseer glided up the bank. "You shot! What have you done " "Nothing much, I reckon! I didn't expect to do much, but page: 94-95[View Page 94-95] " THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. mostly to give the skunks an idee that we were in differer tcamps, and that th-ey could'nt git at one fairly, without putting themselves in the way of eating the bullets of the other. I was tenmpted, as I seed a little motion in a heap of tallow-bushes; and, as I reckon- ed that was pretty much about the spot where their slot come from, I kept my eye upon it, and when I saw the top of -he bush move again, I aimed pretty low down and blazed away." "Well?" "Nothing came of it, so far as I seed! I reckon I war a leetle too quick on trigger, jest like a younger person, Arthur. But let us slip down this bank, and get farther along up the swamp." ( But when you drew their fire, by the cap, Fordham, w y did'nt you offer for a rush at them?" "How was I to know how many rifles they had, with mouths full of bullets still? No! no! Master Arthur ;-we are put two, and they are five, may be,;-certainly four ;-and ef thar's to be a rush' made, why they are the proper persons to take the resk. We must resk nothing. We're on the defensive. all the time. What we must aim at is to sarcumvent them. We must fetch another compass, and change -ground constantly." Having, by this time, reloaded his discharged rifle, Fordham led the way for his young companion. Creeping along the hedge of laurel, but not so near it as to disturb a sprig; the two glided down the tussock, and soon made their way into the deerp r shel- ter of the swamp. They now moved steadily upward, aiming, though by a circuitous progress, in the direction of th3 creek where Fordham was suprised in the -pening of the affair' While thus moving, let us look into the camp of the enemy, and pierce their policy, if that be possible. We need not detail the several fetches by which the thvo ban- dits, Bostwick and Ralph Burke, approached the point wi ere we find thein. Their route, like that of the party we have itherto accompanied, has been a circuitous one; in recognition of the vi- THE FAT TURKEY WALKS INTO THE TRAP. 95 tal necessity, which existed, that they should not unadvisedly hap- pen upon their foes. A proper knowledge of woodcraft, led Bost- wick and Burke readily to conjecture what would be the game practised by Fordham. They aimed, accordingly, to accomplish a circuit so sufficiently wide, as to bring them, finally, in the rear of the overseer, no matter how much the compass, he, too, might have allowed himself in the desire to attain a similar object. In this progress, they measurably accomplished their aims; and, but for the retreat to the "Hurrah" and "gall berry bushes," and the short pause of the overseer and Arthur in that place of refuge, they would, p'robably, have arrived at better opportunities than those which they enjoyed. It was while fully concsious, from cer- tain discoveries which they had made, that the fugitives were near- ly within striking distance, that the two outlaws hid themselves for awhile; keeping a sharp watch, rifle in hand, within twenty paces of each other. Their instincts led them to divine that Fordham would seek the cover of the swamp ;-and, upon this re- gion they kept their eyes, from the centre of that elevated ground over which the ove-seer had so cautiously crept, leading his inex- perienced associate. While lurking and watching thus, the- eyes of Burke were the first to catch a glimpse of the youth's cap ele- vated above a clump of laurel. The bait took and he fired; to the great annoyance of Bostwick, who had seen it alo, and had suspected the ruse. The parties rejoined, a moment after this shot, and, with a brief wrangle in respect to it, separated as before, and once more shrouded themselves among the myrtle and tallow bushes. It was, while recovering this position, that Bostwick drew the fire of Fordham ;-suffering a narrow escape, the bullet actually cutting the cape of his coat, and razing the skin of his shoulder as if a cowhide had been laid on with a will. The fellow writhed under thesmart, but made no other movement, and, after a brief pause of watch, in the hope that the secret enemy, whose bullet he had escaped,' presuming on a more fatal result, would page: 96-97[View Page 96-97] OR, THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. show himself, he readily conjectured, from his forbearance to do so,. that he had changed his ground. But he waited still awhile longer; then, as all continued silent, he whistled to But'e, who answered him from his place of shelter, and both drew backwards, crawling away in snake-fashion, and scarcely stirring th3 foliage which had given them shelter. W "We can't play these cards too nicely," said Bost ick, to Burke, as they went some yards in the rear of -their late position, and with the 'hurrah -bushes' effectually concealing thlm from sight. "This chap, Fordham, is a whole .team. of foxes, and no mistake We must git across the road, and push; down c uick for' the swamp on that side-cross the creek and road at tie same time, and come in on 'em from that quarter." The plan was agreed on, and at once put in execution Once in the forest, on the opposite side of the road, the two bandits made rapid progress upward; reaching the margin of the swamp in which, as we have seen, the- widow EVeleigh had previously taken shelter, very nearly as soonls Fordham and young Aithur. But a considerable space now lay between the latter and their hunters, destined, however, to be rapidly overcome, as tae over- seer and his companion were also bending their steps, towards; the same creek which the bandits are now crossing, Once on the op- posite side, the two latter struck into the swamp, proposing to pursue the course of the creek which wound through it, ald place themselves in ambush among the willows and laurels by /Which it wasskirted. But they had not gone far, preserving the caution which had hitherto marked their movements, when they dis covered such-proof of the near neighbourhood of other parties, .s made them momently forgetful of Fordham. The anxieties of th widow Eveleigh, in respect to her son, had made her unwilling to leave him, while there was any prospect of his suffering from an, vncoun- ter with his foes. Though she had crossed the creek, dnd had consented to go forwards oh her route-keeping still the cover of , , THE FAT TURKEY WALKS INTO THE TRAP. 97 the wood, under the guidance of Jenny, the servant-maid-yet with a fearful fascination, which she could not withstand, did she again return upon her own footsteps. Her track, going, had been detected in the soft ooze along the margin of the creek. It was followed instantly by the outlaws. "Let us but git our hand on her ag'in," quoth Bostwick, "and we'll git a purchase on her son and Fordham." Such was the cold-blooded calculation. "Right!" responded Burke. "Son or mother, the one kin al- ways be made to sell out for the other." "That's jest as they have vartue and nateral affection. These will do it-but, let me tell you, 'taint the case with many hundred others. 'Gad! there's some people that'd rether sell mother and grandmother, and son and grandson, than give up the hair of a nigger, or the shine of a dollar. I've known many of that sort- but it's no use to talk. There's man-beasts, Burke-wolf and ti- ger, fox and skunk, 'coon and 'possum, snake and spider-who don't know no law but jest to strike and swallow-and make snares and steal, when they can't take; and run, rether than fight, for their thievings! I don't know, old fellow, but we b'longs to some one of these bieeds, ourselves; and we'd be bad enough, ef we wa'n't willing to resk our lives as well as our honesty. There's one I know, but-- " "Who?" "Never mind-he's one who would cut his inimy's throat with your knife or mine, and take his neighbour's money with our hands; he's-but no matter. Now, this widow and her son are of the true grit-people of raal blood; and raal blood, Burke, is a vartue by itself, and by natur'. They'd die for one another!" "We won't hurt 'em, Bostwick?" "That's as it happens. We don't know what we may hev'- to do. One must help himself, no matter who he hurts! We must use one of 'em to bring the other to reason. So-stop!-hist!" page: 98-99[View Page 98-99] 98- THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. The two crouched instinctively into cover. "The turkey's walking straight into trap!" quoth Bostwick. A whisper between the parties, and they stole off, still under cover, in different directions. A few moments only had. elapsed, when Bostwick laid his hand on the unconscious shoulder of the widow Eveleigh, taking her by surprise, while the fingers of Burke griped Jenny, the servant-maid, rather tenderly than otherwise, about the nape of her neck. "Jest taking a leetle liberty, my lady," said Bostwick, in a gruff and disguised voice. She started and shuddered, but sulmitted with dignity,; vexed to the soul, and humbled, that, once free from his clutches, she had not followed the instructions of her son and the overseer, and pushed rapidly from the scene of danger. She felt, in at instant, all the advantage that her second captivity would afford to the' enemy. Jenny, the servant-maid, was overwhelmed wit}- her ter- rors, and screamed, and continued to scream, until the enraged Burke, throwing her to the ground, crammed her disterded jaws with moss enough to make an infant's matrass. "I must take the liberty, ma'am, of giving your arms a hitch as I did before, but, this time, you must walk with me. I shan't leave you a second time out of sight." "What is your design upon me, sir? Speak out! If it is money-you are already in possession of all I have abo t me.- If you require more for my ransom, and that of my friend, say so, and if it can be procured, I will consent to any sum, sooner than submit to this treatment!" - "Directly, ma'am;-that's for afterwards. But, jest [ow, you must foot it along with me. Quick, ma'am, I've got no time to waste." "Butt whither must we go?" "Back to. your carriage! I reckon we'll put you in it, right away, and send you home safe enough, after a leetle while.- That's ef you aint obstroewc!nus." * * - fI SIIRMSHNG. 99 "Who are you?" "A wolf, ma'am, or a tiger, ef you axes after my family and name. Come, ma'am, walk, or by --- I'll lace you with a hick- ory. Iwill, by thunder:!" This was plain language enough. The widow bestowed but a single glance of her large blue eye upon the ruffian, calm and strong, under the threat and indgnity; then quietly moved for- ward in the direction which she was bade to take. What was only a threat in the case of the widow, became an experience in that of the servant-maid. Gagged and on the ground, she reso- lutely refused to rise, till the enraged Burke, cutting a rod from a neighbouring bush, laid it thrice over her shoulders. The argu- ment proved sufficient, and she set forward with a speed that was studiously calculated to leave a space of five feet, or more, be- tween herself and assailant; who still continued to threaten with the rod which he found no longer necessary to use in any other way. Again the party sted across the creek, and into the oppo- site forest, making rapid progress,; and keeping vigilant eye upon the road which separated them from those woods, in the unknown retreats of which Fordham and young Arthur continued to find shelter, and where it was very well known they lurked and watched. Let us now return to them. CHAPTER XVI. CA . SKIRMSHNG. THE overseer and his young companion, having struck some- what deeper into the swamp, were necessarily compelled to make a considerable circuit in approachig the point where the outlaws page: 100-101[View Page 100-101] 100 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. had succeeded in recapturing Mrs. Eveleigh! The swamp, of ir- regular figure, thrust out a huge horn between the Parties, the extent of which Fordham had not calculated. This was always pretty full of water, and not passable, except with gree; difficulty and inconvenience. The two were on one sice of th s horn, or aim of the swamp, itself a lake-while the outlaws skirted the other-the creek being between the parties a so-when the screams of the servant maid of the widow, snmote sha ply on tlPe ears of our wanderers. The first instincts of Arthur led him nat- urally to suppose that the cries were from his mother. "My poor mother!" he exclaimed, passionately. ', They have found her, Fordham! Hear! It is she! These are hl 3r screans. They are ill-treating her." "I don't think!" returned the other, with interes, but still calmly. "Don't be scared, Arthur. I reckon they've foundyour mother, and have made her a prisoner again, though she ougr-t, by this time, to have been a mile farther on the road. But 'tant her that you hear a-screaming. Its Jenny, the gal, reckon.- Mrs. Eveleigh aint the lady to scream, I'm thinking. It aint lhke her." "But are we to stand here, Fordham, when there's no knowing what these villains are after?" "That we must try and see, Arthur. 'We must push on, that's sartain; but we musn't push on any faster than we've been doing. The only way to save her, and to save ourselves, is just to play scout 'tell we kin git some advantage. Jest you leav3 the thing to me, and ef so be we're to work out of this trouble, with whole bones, it's only by showing not a white of the eye to these-skur-ks, until we kin speak to 'em safely by the mouth of the rifle. Let's push on, along the edge of this lagoon, as we're a-loing. 1t'll bring us out upon the road after awhile, and we'll see; Now that these rascals have got your mother, as I reikon, tLey'll notibe able to work their-way through the woads so easy as afore." X SKIRMSIING. 101 The youth felt that every thing must be left to Fordham, in ihose ingenuity and courage, as well as fidelity, he had full con- fidence, and the two pushed forward, still with great caution, worm- ing their way along the edge of the swamp, Fordham taking the lead with equal energy and circumspection. They reached, in this way, the road, just where the creek crossed it, and there Fordham halted. ' Now," said he, "Arthur, do you keep close here in this cover while I take an observation of the country. I'll be gone only a little while."' He was gone somewhat longer than he himself had anticipated, and young Eveleigh was getting quite impatient, when the over- seer suddenly reappeared. His countenance was grave and anx- ious. "Well, Mr. Fordham! my mother a" demandedArthur. "Them's mighty sharp rascals, Mister Arthur," replied the overseer. "They've got back to the carriage, and they've put your mother, and the gal into it. But there's no scaring, the scamps. They've put your mother on the seat of the driver, aid they've tied her to it, and the gal's tied inside. Besides, they've carried off the two horses.", The youth gnashed his teeth. "You've seen her then-my mother?" "Yes! she's put so that we could see hei--the d--d var- mints! 'By that I know'd they're on the watch for us. They think that when we've seed her, and not them, we'll be such blind buzzards as to show ourselves. But I see the trap as well as the cheese. We'll not take the bait, Aithur." "How do you know she's tied?" "I reckon so from the way she sits, though I didn't go nigh enough to see. I calculate that these scamps are lying on both sides of the carriage, close in the bush, with their eyes rinning close along their rifle-barrels. They know we're between them 9* page: 102-103[View Page 102-103] 102 THE SWORD -AND THE DISTAFF. and the creek. Now, as that's the case, our frst busness is to work round on t'other side. We must take another fetcA through the woods." "Let's be moving then,' said the youth, impatiently. And the overseer struck out at right; angles, as if wLolly leav- ing the road. He pursued this course for a while, with .a compar- atively swift motion, and, after compassing a couple o0' hundred yards which brought them once more upon the swamp, ihe turned suddenly to the left, and took a route parallel with the r6ad, whica he followed with little variation for about thrice the distance.- Then, making another turn to the left, he made his wair forward, seeking a point near the highway, but at sonme distance in the rear of the carriage. When he caught sight of these object which taught him to believe he had gone sufficiently ;ar, he re- strained his youthful companion. They both crouched, and went forward, steadily keeping under cover of the shrubs, bashes, and long grass which covered this region. After a brief 3pace cor- sumed in this way, during whicithey had drawn nigh-er to the carriage, Fordham paused and whispered to Arthur. NL low you lie down snug. Ef I calculate rightly, th se skunks are now within reach of a long tongued rifle. I reckon that one lies on t'other side of the road among them oak busLes, and in that tall dry grass. The otheris, I'm thinking, on this s de of th3 road somewhere among them water myrtle and willow bushes.- Do you see your mothers in the front seat of the carriage ." "Yes!" "Well, I reckoi, ef she could speak, she could tell us jist where these critters barbour. They're on a sharp look out for us now from above. But we're here, Arthur, and its always half ,he battle, when your inimy don't know where to look :or you, and when you can reasonably p'int your finger and say-' thar' he is!' LookS back, -Arthur, and see ef there's any body in the shape of a white man, nigh the wagon." SKIRMSHNG. 103 "I see the negroes only, and only half of them, I reckon." "Well, ef I could only tell how many of these chaps was here in front of us; but whether one or a dozen, there's no help for it now,. but patience. Keep you quiet now, while I do a little snaking." And, so speaking, the woodman crept forward, close to the ground, frequently pausing to listen, and sometimes raising him- self, whenever a sufficiently dense cover enabled him to do sc with safety. In this way he continued to advance, Until a space of thirty or forty yards alone remained between himself and the carriage. He was still pursuing this serpent-like progress, when Arthur suddenly heard his mother's voice, the tones eager and full of anxiety and agitation. "Beware Arthur-beware Fordhanm! You are seen! Your enemies watch you!" Fordham was down in an instant, but Arthur, excited by his mother's voice, on the same instant, raised himself to his knees, rifle in hand, and eyes that seemed to have acquired all the far penetrating and piercing power of the eagle. Almost in the same instant a shot rang through the woods which whistled through the bush beneath which Fordham crouched,!rending the leaves and twigs immediately above his head. "I Blast you!" cried Ralph Burke, who had fired, addressing him- self, in the same moment, to the widow, -" ef I hear another word out of your head, I'll cutyour tongue out-!" He had scarcely spoken from his bush-for he also was buried among the leaves--when the bush was seen to be Lurriedly agi- tated, and the widow heard another shot, but from what quarter she could not conjecture. It was her son that fired. At her words, which had called him up from his crouching attitude, he had caught a glimpse of the flash which had preceded the shot of Burke, and obeying his impulse, he had drawn trigger at the same moment upon the spot from whence it issued. He knew page: 104-105[View Page 104-105] 104 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. not if any effect had ensued from his fire, for a deep si' once over- spread the scene; and he began bitterly to reproach himself with the precipitance with-which he had again emptied his rifle witL- out first making sure of his object. But, had Le then known the truth, he might have congratulated himself in the language of Hamlet--" praised be rashness for it"-that. Le had 6oeyed his impulse without regaid to the policy of the proceeding, "' Our indiscretion sometimes serves us well, When our deep plots do pall;" and so it was in the present instance. The almost random bu, let of the youth had buried itself in the brain of the rulran, and with a single fearful spasm, he lay dead beneath the cover which had lately formed his ambush. CHAPTER XVII. THE CONFEDERATES CHAINGE TDEIR GAME AND WOULD 0C-AW OFF. FROM the deep silence which covered the region, one night sup- pose that all the parties had suddenly disappeared. Mrs. Eveleig4 had been warned to silence by the brutal threat of tLe rLffian Burke; and having, as she. thought, sufficiently informedi ier son and his companion of the proximity of enemies, she was not un- willing to respect the warning. She knew not of the efect pro- duced by her son's shot. The fact was unknown, indeed, to any of the parties. Fordham had been suddenly made Tmolie than ever cautious by the narrow escape he had made from urke's bullet, and lay in supreme quiet in the bushes which sheltered him.' Young Arthur had also sunk back into cover, quiOt asham- X * THE CONFEDERATES CHANGE THEIR GAME. 105 ed of his own (assumed) rashness and indiscretion, and congratu- lating himself that he had not drawn the enemy's fire also. Bost- wick, in the meanwhile, conscious of the fact which Fordham had no reason to suspect, that the parties were equally matched; and that all his hope lay in the excellence of his owr stratagem, crouched more closely than, ever in his place of ambuscade, with i every sense quickened by the feeling that he had an enemy be- fore him, who, thus far, had shown himself a matci for him in Indian artifice. In the practice of woodcraft he was now willing to acknowledge that Fordham was quite as good a man as himself. Of that which had been exercised by the opponents respectively, we have been able to report but imperfectly. It would need more space than we could afford, to chronicle minutely those details, of which we have given an outline only. The fox-like doublings, the snake-like crawlings, the subtlety, stealth, keen sight, and fore- sight, equally, which had been shown by both sides, in their sever- al approaches to, and recedings from, each other, had been of the best school of stratagem, as practised by the red-men of America. The little practice of our dramatis personoe will, on k small scale, exhibit the characteristic features of Indlian warfare, which, first of all, recognizes the necessity of risking nothing, and of making a clear gain, without equivalent loss of all its advantages. Where the number is so small on both sides, the first necessity is to economise it. Art is to supersede brute valour. No perils are to be incur- red except in cases of extreme necessity, and when the issue' of new force is absolutely inevitable. . In the present instance, Bostwick and Fordham were equally impressed with the necessity of avoiding loss. Neither dared show himself, with the view to an assault, or any bold demonstra- tion, as long as an enemy lay concealed and on the watch,;with a rifle-barrel still unemptied. Thus, accordingly, after the space of ten or fifteen minutes, after the several shots of Burke and Arthur had been delivered, neither of the parties had moved or spoken. page: 106-107[View Page 106-107] 106 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. The first sounds which struck the ears of Fordham ard Arthur were the faint whistles of a partridge. The latter, in h's -nexpej rience, really supposed them to proceed from the bird; but Fordhan knew better. He now held his breath, if possible to distinguish fromnwhat precise quarter the sound had issued. He knew it t'o be a signal. It was repeated at slight intervals, and 1.e found that it came from the opposite woods, the canrriage being, n fact, directly between himself and the sound. . He supposed it to be forty or fifty yards distant. Thrice did he hefr it, anl. always ,from the same precinct. He could perceive no answe- to it.- Either therefore, his late assailant was nigher to rim thali he had imagined, and therefore dared not answer, or he Lad succseded in drawing himself off from the scene of action. He never once fancied any thing so agreeable, but so little probable, as hat the hasty shot of Arthur had done his business. But the conjecture of Bostwick led him more nearly to the truth. The f ilire oft Burke to answer his signal -for it was his-filled him wiih doubt and apprehension. He repeated it thrice, as had been ag 'eed up- on between them, and listened vainly for the reply. He, at once, reviewed all his ground, and, for the first time, began to loose his confidence in the enterprise. "I'm jubous,' he muttered to himself, " that Burke has got his fodder! 'There's but one way for it, and that's to back oi t. It's high time! Better half a loaf than no bread! Six negrc es sure, is better than a dozen, with a ragged bullet to chaw into -he bar- gain. I must shift the ground-get. back to the wagon-bring the boys together, and take what we've got.'" These results were slowly arrived at. Once resolved upoin, the execution was immediate. Bostwick, with habitual cunning and caution, withdrew from his place of hiding, drawing bazl into the deeper woods,' and without provoking any suspicion of his movement. The widow, from her seat in the front of the c rriage, and who, without actually seeing the Squatter in lis place of am- THE CONFEDERATES CHANGE THEIR GAME. 107 bush, was yet aware of the spot in which he harboured, was total- ly ignorant of his departure. Once in the deep thicket behind; Bostwick rose to his feet, and sped down the road with all possi- ble haste, in the direction of the wagon. There, also in conceal- ment, he found his colleague, Norris, who, having heard the fir- ing, had become exceedingly uneasy. "Well-how goes it, Bost?" he enquired, as the other drew to his side. "Where's Burke?" "Not in Heaven, I reckon!. Maybe in a worse place, if the preachers know any thing about it." .. "What? You don t mean-?" "I reckon he's chawed his bullet. Hee don't answer the call. That d-- d etarnal Fordham! They've had a shot apiece, and the widow cried out; and Burke, like a bloody fool, must git out of the bush, and curse her, "nd shake his fist at her, and so draw'd the inimy's fire. Sence then, he's laid quiet, and don't answer to the call." l "But you ain't sure? You ha'int seed for sartain?" "NoO! He may be only barked a leetle; but there's no telling. I durs'hit ventur', as Fordham still keeps close!" "And what's to be done?" "Claw off-that's the how! Take what we've got, sure, and be oft: The boys not in?" "Yes; they're after the horses. They caught another of the niggers, and we've tied him with the rest." "Makes seven?" "Yes." "We must be satisfied with that, and be off. t's been a mighty hard business, and I'm getting tired, and scary -o0, We'll be having somebody upon us, ef we stay much longer. Better mount and drive the niggers we've got, and make fop Dooley's Cove. We ought to be there afore moonrise." I "But don,t you think we kin git something out of the wagon . page: 108-109[View Page 108-109] 108 THE SWORD AND THE. DISTAFF. A jug or two of rum, I'm thinking, and prehaps some otaer litte fixings that we kin carry on the saddle " " "Well, I suppose, we might make a s'arch; but yotl mus'nt Pe long about it. I reckon the boys have got the horses by this time. There's been nobody to hender, this time. 'Vaiere did they go to 8" "Yonder, in the open piney wood, where there's grass, I'm thinking. It's thar' the boys went. lIesh!--thar' they come, bringing all the critters. What shall we do about Bui'ke?" "Do! What should we do? Mind what the Scripture th us-' Let the dead bury the dead. " "But we don't know that he's dead." "And we mus'nt resk the life of a live man to fini out. 3f he's living, I reckon he knows what to do. VTe'll mace a divar- sion in his favour, and he kin then snake away to the swamp. 3f he's dead, there's an eend to his troubles, and we kin take care 'f his horse among us, and spend his share of the money! Aint that-sense, I ax you?" "ERight! But about the divarsion?" "Well, look you-these chaps-this overseer Fordham--d--n his quarters, I say! he and the young chap lie about t ie carriage now, a'most within pistol shot. I'll put myself in tie thicket thar'-pointing to a spot some fifty yards farther on th3 road, one third of the distance, perhaps, between the wagon a id the car- riage)- and jest cover the track with my rifle, while you s'arch the wagon. Let Brydges and Tony Hines lead off the niggers. Have our horses ready to follow. Tell 'em to take the woods down for a mile or so, then strike into the old road foi the burnt Church; we can push a'ter them at a smart gallop, an overtake 'em any time. Anything more?" "No go ahead, and put yourself on the watch, an. 'll1 make the s'arch. We must pick up some little vallyables, if we kin." "How's your arm?" THE CONFEDERATES CHANGE THEIR GAME. 109 "Feels a little numb, sh, but don't hurt. It's only a skin trans- action!" "Now, don't be long about the wagon s'arch; anc don't stop to try the liquor. That's your danger, Dick, you know." Psho! a taste kin co no man any mischief." "But your taste is never less than a swallow, anc a swallow, like what you takes, damages mightily the sight-seeing for a rifle. Be quick, now, in what you do, for the sun's loweriig fast, and we've been too long a'ready about the business." "Be off, Bost, and keep a sharp look out. I'll take are of what I'm after." Thus the parties separated. A few moments sufficed to put Bostwick in his, new )lace of ambush, covering all approaches from the direction of the carriage; and to set Norris at work in exploring the contents of the wagon. The two confederates, meanwhile, came up with the horges which now, witi! one excep- tion, had all been safely recovered. The negroes were then roped. together as they were, set in motion, and slowly disappeared from the road; driven before the two outlaws on horseback. The move- ment did not escape tie lkeen eyes of Fordham; and he groaned, in the bitterness of his spirit, as he beheld, first-a box, then a' sack, then a keg, pitched out from the wagon, as from invisible hands within the vehicle. l 'Thar'sthe sugar;" he muttered; "thar's the coffee; thar's the kag of rum! The varmints! Lord, ef I could only git a sight of the chap that's so active-it's not quite two hundred yards I reckon-I'd try what vartue's in a good rifle at longer shot than I likes to use it in common shooting. , But, Lord! what can be done?" The soliloquy reacted no ears but his own, He did not yet dare to speak aloud, or to show any sign of life. The very silence that prevailed around him, led him still to apprehend that his en- emies were near him, and still on the watch; while Mrs. Eveleigh, 10 page: 110-111[View Page 110-111] -110 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. still bound, and still in sight, preserved the quiet of on- whoi was conscious that she had hostile listeners. The overseer ref dily con- jectured the game which the ruffians were prepared to p-ay. Hel saw the negroes marched off by two of the ou-laws. Shere twere still three as he conjectured, with whom he had to contend. Two of them were still, he supposed, in the precincts of the0 carriage; and the fifth man was in the wagon. To move against him, or to attempt tot pursue the two, with the negroes, would be to expose himself arnd companion to the fire of the two whom he assumed to be on the watch for him. He was thus completely masked, and felt himself bewildered. To draw off from this dangerous neighbourhood was his best policy, yet he dreaded the attempt un- der-the surveillance (as he supposed) of his -,wo enemies. We must add, in justice to our overseer, that his chief anxieties were on account of young Arthur. The devoted fellow neve? once for- got how precious in the. mother's eyes, was the safety of her only son. To remain quiet still longer, and wait the further develop- ment of the schemes of the highwaymen, was the con'-lsion to which the meditations of Fordham conducted him. To lie close, keep dark, and wait events, is, perhaps, the bes . policy, always, in any such contest, where we do not see clearly the prospect or pro- -priety of action. He did not adopt this policy in vain.! Hardly had he come to this resolution, when the scene was chaIrged bv the introduction of other parties. For these, however,! we must -open another chapter. i , ^ " 'f - ' * ! THE LAST DRO? OF JAMAICA IN THE BOTTLE. 11 - CHAPTER XVIII. THE LAST DROP OF JAMAICA IN THE VETERANXS BOTTLE. THE. reader will, perhaps, find it advisable to go back with us to a certain small group of Marion's partisans, whom we left, en route, from the camp of that chieftain, for the ancient settlements upon the Ashepoo, which they had abandoned at the opening of the Revolutionary struggle, to undergo the capricious events of war. Captain Porgy, with his little suite of three persons, having been making easy progress since we left-them-have advanced considerably on their way homeward, and tare now almost within striking distance of the Ashepoo. A few miles beyond it, and the Captain will once more be able to contemplate his ancient homestead-the paternal house and hearth, the well known fields and woods-a once valuable property which had been transmitted to him through three or more careful generations-he, alas! being the only careless one of the race, in whose hands their continued accumulations had constantly undergone diminution, until now- what with his own profligacy and -the misfortunes naturally fol- lowing the sort of war -,hrough which the colony had just gone, his homestead was almost wholly desolate, stripped of negroes, and covered with debt as with a winter garment. Porgy had been a fast youth. He had never been taught the pains of acquisi- tion. Left to himself-his own dangerous keeping-when a mere boy, he had too soon a-id fatally learned the pleasures of dissipa- tion, The war found him pursued by debt and embarrassments, as unrelaxing as the Firies that hunted the steps of Orestes.- Hie had found temporary relief from the hands of usury, and may- thus be described as falling from the grasp of the Furies, into the worse keeping of the Fates. He held himself very nearly a ruin- page: 112-113[View Page 112-113] "2 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAF. ed man, when the war began; and the loss of numerous negroes, carried off by the enemy, gave him no reason to doubtl pon the subject. His lands were mortgaged, the negroes gone, his debt's cried aloud against him for judgment, and he had reason to know that his chief creditor was on the watch for his return. The ces- sation of war, which stripped him of his occupation, was an event which necessarily restored the common law to its fearfu I activity. The Camp was now doomed to pale in the shacow of the Court; arms must give way to the gown; and the laurels of war soon wither, in sight and from remembrance, when ;he tongue only is allowed to carry on the contests of human antagonism. T'he pil- lars in war, are notoriously the caterpillars in peace, and there was no blessed exemption, in the lot of Captair Porgy, From this distressing prospect. Of that he was well assured. He did not once deceive himself. He could, with sheer 'force of wil, expel from his presence the gloomy prospect, but he had no imagination such as would enable him to look on it, till he made it grateful and encouraging. To the strongest-nay, to the most reckless nature-there will be always something humbling and oppressive in the survey of such a situation. The questioLS "what :s to be done?"-" whither am I to turn "-" of what am I capa'jle "-' "where is my resource?"-to be asked of himself, for' the first time, and by the man who has already passed middle age are well calculated to fling a pall over the prospect, and make 'Le heart to shi'ink at the entrance upon the unknown void of life MLich yet spreads before it. Porgy was the man to feel, thoroughly, ;he dis- couraging and sad, in this survey; for he was a man really of good sense and many sensibilities ;-but he had moral resources which kept him from basely cowering and whining beneath the cloud. He was only not so blind as not to see 't with oppressive distinctness-to feel its pressure, to acknowledge the doi bts and embarrassments which crowd upon his path ;-not to shudder at them basely, or to yield to any weaknesses of mood, in conse- . THE LAST DROP OF JAMAICA IN THE BOTTLE. 113 quence. Besides, he Lad a taste for pleasure, was not a little of an epicure-there may have been, indeed, some affectation in this characteristic-and he prided himself upon the fact that he could extract his morals always from his appetites. He took philosophy with him to his table, and grew wise over his wine. So, at least, he claimed to do. We have seen him, in a previous chapter, resorting to this sort of remedy against the cares which he was yet compelled to con- template-appealing to his appetites against his griefs, and seek- ing consolations against thought, in his last bottle of Jamaica. It so happens that in resuming our acquaintance with his party, we find him again similarly engaged. It is noonday and past. Our partisans feel the necessity of stopping, for refreshment, on the route. They have reached a pleasant spot upon the road-side, a rill of sweet water trickling across the sandy highway from a green copse that shelters it,-and there are still a few bright drops. in the corpulent bottle of Jamaica-one of a shape and size that we do not often see in use in these degenerate days. It was, in shape, an oblong square, with portly capacities, holdin, perhaps, a trifle under a gallon. A netting of wire-grass envelopes it, af- fording it comparative safety against the vicissitudes of travel.- The party have tasted of the beverage ere we come upon them. The bottle leans- against a tree just above the streamlet. Tom, the cook, has been again made to descend-to unstrap his wares, and prepare his hoe-cahse and bacon. The feast has, already, in a great measure, been enjoyed. The only persons who still show an unrelaxing appetite, are the Corporal, Millhouse, the one-armed veteran, and Tom, the African. You may see that each of these carries in hand certain fragments of bread, and broiled ham of corresponding dimensions, the latter done to a turn. The Ser- geant eats as if duly conscious of Tom's excellence as a cook, and -for no other reason. He is not silent when the expression of his gratitude is becoming. , 10 page: 114-115[View Page 114-115] "4 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAF. "Tom," says he, "I shall never be able to eat br'iled ham of any other cook but you! You knows what a jr'iie ougkt to be, Tom, and what hog-meat naturally desarves." I - "I ought for know, Mass Millhouse! Maussa show me how for cook.'em hese'f Mass Porgy fus'-rate cook. He 'tab' (stand) ober me when I fus' begin for l'arn, May-be he no cuss when I sp'ile 'em! Sometime I do 'em too much, sometime I co 'em too little; he cuss bote times, and sway (swear) he'll make me see h--1 ef I do 'em so nex' time. Wha' den? I no wart for see h--1, and I min' (mind). ITlarn! Once I l'arn, I nebler forgit. Maussa hole me to 'em. He quick for cuss-, like de Hebbil!- Sometimes he lick! But, wha' den? I always hah good share of wha' I cook. Ef Maussa only hab skin ob Ide pig, he sure for gib me de ears and tail." "He's a d-d good fellow, Tom,- Captain Porgy. Ikd 'a been a dead dog ef 'twa'nt for him. But he seems mighty dull, these times, Tom;--droopy, I may say; like a young turkey in wet weather." Tom looked with interest towards. his master, who was sitting A some steps off-reclining, rather than sitting-beneath a :r9ee, with young Lance Frampton, the Ensign, in attendance. Il the low' tones of voice' employed by the Corporal and the neg o, in this conference, they were quite unheard by the subject of -heir dia- logue. , "I sh' um (see 'em);" responded the negro. De trutt, is, Mass Copp'ral-de bacyn is most gone; de bottle, I tspec' (expect) hab room 'nough for fill agen;-I most 'fear'd. der's no quite 'nough 1 ef' in. Wem, to gib you and me anoder dram; and dce army's broke up, de British and Torys, day say, all gone; anVl nobody let' for we ravage pon, and git new supplies. Da's it! Wha' we for do now, is de t'ing. Wha', you say, make Mgss Porgy look like young tukkey in de rainy wedder." "Tom, old boy, we'll have to work for the Captain." THE LAST DROP OF JAMAICA IN THE BOTTLE. -11.5 "You work, Mass Corporal?-wha' you kin do when you only got one ban'?" "But I'm got a h-1 of a big heart for my friend, Tom, by thunder; and when there's heart enough in a man's buzzuml, Tom, he kin always find arms enough to sarve his friend, even if so be both hands are chopped off." - "Der's trute in dat, Mass Corporal," answered the negro grave- ly with an assured shake of the head. "Truth! By thunder, Tom, it's all truth! It's the body and soul of truth, and I'm the man to'prove it! I'll work! The Captain shan't want! He can't do much, Tom, for himself, seeing that there's to be no more fighting, which is the only work that a gentleman kin do, without s'iling his fingers.". "Mass Porgy is gempleman for true." "Let anybody stand up and say he ain't, and I'll gallop through him, by thunder!" "I trot t'rough arte-' you, Mass Copporal." " But he don't need that. He's the man to do all his own fight- ing, and mighty glad of the chance." "Fight like de debbil, Mass Copporal! You take some more of dis br'ile?"' "No, Tom, no more;--and yet, you do br'ile it so bloody fine that-yes! You may fork over that bit. The small bit, Tom, keep t'other piece for yourself." "I done! Ef der' was only de smalles' drop o' dat Jamaica in de bottle!" The fellow looked wistfully towards his master. The eye of Corporal Millhouse took the same direction; but neither of them would have dreamed of doing; or saying, anything, which might declare their wants -;o their superior. But it was in proof of Captain Porgy's clairr to the character they had both been pleased to assign him, that of the gentleman, that he always duly consid- ered the claims of the inferior, and anticipated their reasonable page: 116-117[View Page 116-117] "6 THE SWORDV AND THE DI$TAFF. - desires. As if divining theil wishes, he seemed to wa en up at this moment, and cried out from his tree, to Millhouse- "Corporal, there's still a drop of the Jamaica for you in the bottle. Give what you leave to Tom. There's, perhaps, a toler- able sup for you both; but it's the last. I suppose, whenever we deserve it, the Good Fortune will send is more." Millhouse did not wait for a second invitation. Tomn smacked his lips as the Corporal approached him with the bottleL "Wha' I bin say, Mass Copporal? Ef Mass Cappinihab only de skin ob de pig, he will gib we de tail and yea's." "He's a born gentleman, by thunde ; and we'll work for him, Tom, more hard than any nigger he ever had." "I 'stan (stand) up wid you for dat, Mass Coppora.- I cook myse'f 'fore I guine let Mass Cappin want for dinner. o long as dere's 'coon and 'possum, squerril and rabbit in de wood, pattridge and dub (dove)-duck in de ribber, and fish in de pond-so long, I tell you, Tom will always hab 'nough somet'ing to cook! As for de corn, we kin make dat too. Ef you no got two han' for hoe, Mass Copporal, you kin drop de seed." "But I kin hoe like h-l, with one hand jest as well as two! Why not? By thunder, Tom, you must think me a sort of child, old fellow, ef you think I kaaint!" . "Well, Mass Copporal, I know you hab de strengt', b+l; it don't come so easy to de one-hand man. You hab de stren t'. You will help me pack up de pots and kettles, when we read for start, Mass Copporal" Tom, "Why not, nigger? To be sre! It's for your m ssa, Tom and I love him, boy, and I'll be his nigger, too, when it aint on- decent-that's to say, when there's no company. 'Ef a Treat Col- onel or Ginneral should come to visit the Cappin-Col. Singleton, maybe, or the' Old Fox' himself, maybe, or Ginneral Q:eene, or any other big person-why then, Tom; don't say wdrk to me them time! I must be in my rigimentals when they comes, and stand jist behind the Cappin." PHLOSOPHY IN THE BEGGAR'S WALLET. 117l "Da's right! I comprehend, Mass Copporal! Every nigger to he own sawt o' bizzness. But, hello! Wha' dis I see. Der's strange pusson, Mass Copporal, coming out de bush Whax for dat? Man da' run! Nigger darun! He holla! Ha! lookda' Mass Copperal. Two nigger da' run. Enty I know 'em Stop! Le' me see. Sure as a gun, Mass Copporal, one ob dem boys is our Pomp. I lef 'em a boy! He's grow a man! Wha' Pomp! Da' you.? Ha! ha! ha!-ho! ho! ho! Lord ha' massy (mer- cy) 'pon my eyes! Dey blin' wid water!" We must account for these broken apostrophes hereafter. We7 owe it to Captain Porgy and his companion, to bestow our atten- tions upon them also, and see what have been their meditations while at dinner. CHAPTER XIX. PHILOSOPHY IN THE BEGGAR'S WALLET. THE moment we choose to reintroduce Captain Porgy, and his late lieutenant to our, readers, is one which is usually found to fulfil all the conditions of happiness to the ordinary mortal. They have dined. Crouched at ease, under the shadows of an enor- mous oak, they have feasted upon the simple fare provided by the hands of their excellent cook, and have done the amplest jus- tice to the thin slices of broiled ham, ' done to a turn,' and the brown hoe-cake, in the proper composition of which, Tom had established in camp the most enviable reputation. These con- stituted the sum total of their commissariat. The sufficient pota- tions of oily old Jamaica had followed; and, with a sense of physical satisfaction wlich greatly brightened the prospect, Capt. futil ll te coditin ofhappnessto te orillaay mrtal The page: 118-119[View Page 118-119] "8 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. Porgy leaned back against the shaft of the tree, and closed his eyes in order justly to enjoy it. That complacent sort of reverie which usually occupies every mind, af;er the noo-day appetite has been subdued and satisfied, had al eady s/ed upon our cor- pulent Captain. Under its present influences, the state of his af- fairs began to look less gloomy. The circumstances wh'ch more- particularly pressed upon his thoughts at this juncture-the loss of his late employment, the involvement of his estates, the sup- posed abduction of all his negroes, -he danger which threatened at the hands of certain creditors-sharks, in shoals, lying in wait like tigers of the -land, seeking what they may devour--these crowding and dismal figures upon his landscape which, before he dined, had rendered his thoughts a very jungle, worse -hanl In- dian, of lions, tigers, and snakes of mammoth dimensiors-with the consummation of the noonday meal, retreated from before his path, disarmed of most of their terrors, and, though stil lurking and still hostile, looking so little capable of doing mischief, that our Captain began to wonder at his own feebleness of so il which had, but a little while before, so greatly alarmed him on their ac- count. i mild and soothing languor of mood, as if by magic, changed and modified all the'figures in his landscape, an nature, having gained time-which is the best capital, after all, as well in morals as in war,-it was surprising how grateful and agreeable became the philosophy which she had taught our Capta n. He actually-to the amusement of Lance Frampton, who had tried in vain to soothe his melancholy mood as they. rode together before dinner-began to chuckle aloud, yet unconsciously, du-ing his reverie, and finally afforded to his young lieutenant an opportunity to twit him, good humouredly, upon his sudden change of aumour, )by snapping his fingers in the air, as if at the flight of some ene- my, whomb he had successfully combatted. "Well, I hay, Captain, you don't seem quite so sick of life as you said you were before dinner. I reckon you won't be shooting' yourself, as you threatened, only a little while ago." ll & littl 'hl ago.7 - PHLOSOPHY IN THE - BEGGAR'S WALLET. 119 "Well, boy, what then? Is life less loathsome because one learns to laugh at it as well as hate it?" "But you don't hate it, Captain-not now." "No: and for a good reason ;-because I no longer fear it. I see the worst of it. I see all that it can do, and all that it can deny, and. I feel, let it do its worst, that I'm the man for it." "And what's made you so much stronger now to bear, Captain, than you were only an hour gone?" asked the youth, with an in- sinuating chuckle. "Dinner, you dog, I suppose-dinner and drink. -Is that what you mean? Well-I grant you. We are creatures of two lives, two principles, neither of which have perfect play at any time in the case of a man not absolutely a fanatic or a brute. The ani- nal restrains the moral man, the moral man checks the animal. There are moments when one obtains the ascendancy over the other, and our moods acknowledge this ascendancy. Before din- ner, my animal man was vexed and wolfish. It rendered me savage and sour. I colld not think justly. I could not properly weigh and determine upon the value of the facts in my own con- dition. I exaggerated all the ills of fortune, all the evils before me, my poverty, my incapacity, and the ferocious greed of my creditors. My soul wa# at the mercy of my stomach. But, the wolf pacified, my mind acquired freedom. The wild beast sunk sack into his jungle, and the man once more walked erect having no fear. Philosophy, iny boy, appears once more to comfort me, and the landscape grows bright and beautiful before my evening- sun." "Well, all's right then, Captain, until you get hungry again " "Poh; poh! boy, sufficient for the day is the evil thereof.--' God will provide. Vex me not with what to-morrow may bring borth, or refuse to bring forth. To-day is secure. That is enough; and the philosophy wh'ch to-day has brought, will, no doubt, re- concile me to-morrow. Hear you, Lance? . It is the first policy page: 120-121[View Page 120-121] 120 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. in a time of difficulty or danger, always to know the worst- never to hide the truth from yourself-never to persuade yourself that the evil is unreal, and things are better than they really are. When you know the worst, you know exactly what is to be done, and what is to be endured. In time of war, with the enemy be- fore you, and around you, you are required to see his whole strengtlh, give him full credit for what he can do, and ought to do, and determine, accordingly, whether it be your policy to fight, or fly, or submit-whether you can fly, what will be your treatment if you yield, and what is the reasonable chance of safety or victory, if you resolve to fight. In time of peace the necessity is the same. Peace is only a name for civil war. Life itself is civil war; and our enemies are more or less strong and numerous, ac- cording to circumstances. One of the greatest misfortunes of men, and it has been mine until this hour, consists in the great reluctance of the mind to contemplate and review, calmly, the difficulties which surround us-to look our dangers in the face, seehow they lie, where they threaten, and how we may contend against them. We are all quite too apt to refuse to look at our troubles, and prefer that they should leap on us, at a bo end, rath- er than disquiet ourselves, in advance of the conflict, by contem- plating the dangers with which we think it impossible to contend. I have just succeeded in overcoming this reluctance. I have ar- rayed before my mind's eye all my annoyances, and the conse- quence is that I snap my fingers at them. As old Jerry Sanford used -to cry out when he was in a fight, ' Hurrah for nothing!' Jerry was a true philosopher. His motto' shall be mine. Hurrah for nothing, seems to me to embody the full amount of tost men's matter for rejoicing." "Well, now, Captain, it's a fine philosophy I reckon, that'll bring a man to such a sortfof feeling. But, if I may take the liberty, I'd just like to know, how such a philosophy can put a stop to the trouble, make the enemy quit the field, drive the credi- PHLOSOPHY IN THE BEGGARrS WALLET. 121 tors off the plantation, and fill the corn-crib when its empty? I ax these questions with your permission, Captain, seeing as how you've been good enough to talk to me upon your affairs,'and your debts, and the troubles from the Sheriff that you're so much afraid of." "Afraid of the Sheriff, boy! Who dares to say that of me? Never was afraid of a Sheriff in my life. D--n him! Let him come. I have the heart, or I'm no white man, to take the whole posse comitatus by the snout." "Posse comitatus! Oh! I reckon you mean the Deputies?" "Ay! ay! the host of Deputies-a legion of Deputies if you will, from Peedee to the Savannah. But you hav'nt caught my !deas, Lance. I must try and be more intelligible. "I thank you, Captain." "You know, Lance, as well as anybody else, that I've been a d--d fool in my time." " Yes, Captain, to be sure!" Porgy's self-esteem was not pleased with so ready a concession. "Well, boy, I don't mean exactly that. How the devil do you know any thing of my folly?" "Oh! I can guess, sir." "Can you, indeed?" with a sardonic grin.- You are too know- ,ing, by half, sir,-presuming to know, for one so young as your- self. I mean, boy, that I've done a d--d sight too many fool- ish things. This don't make a man utterly a fool.' "No, Captain." "Unless he continues to do foolish things, mark you." "Yes, Captain, I see'." "Most men, the wisest, do foolish things. I don't know, indeed, but that wisdom itself requires to go through a certain probation of folly, in order to acquire the d egree of knowledge, which shall teach what folly is-what shape it takes, and how it will affect us. I suppose that it was in obedience to this law of Nature, that " - page: 122-123[View Page 122-123] 122 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. my follies were performed. But my Terror was that I continued my probation quite too long. I was ambitious, you see, of the highest sort of wisdom. I made too many experiments in folly, and found them too pleasant to abandon them in season. The consequence was, that I began to grow wise only as I forfeited -the means for farther experiment. My wisdom -had its birth in my poverty, and as it was through ,my follies that I became poor, I suppose, logically, I am bound wo say that I was wise because I had been so great a fool. Do you comprehend me 7" "A little, Captain; I think I see." c rc "You will understand me better as I go on. I wasted money --a great deal-ran into debt-sold negroes-mortgaged others --and when I joined the brigade, my plantation was mortgaged also--I can't tell you for how much. But, even if the British and Tories had not stolen all the rest of my negroes, the sale of the whole of them, would scarcely have paid the debt then, and there's some six years' interest since. A Avery interesting condi- tion of affairs, you will admit, for my contemplation now." . "Very, sir." , i ' "Now, to look fully these affairs in the- face requires no small degree of courage. I confess, until I had finished dinner to-day, I was scarcely the man for it. But that last draught of that bles- sed and blessing old Jamaica--did Millhouse and Tom get a good sup of it?" "Pretty good, Captain." "They require good measure, bother Well Lance, boy, that - last sup of the Jamaica seemed to warm up my courage, and I i resolutely called up the whole case, didn't suppress any of the facts,! looked at all the debts, difficulties, dins'and dangers, and said to myself-a fig for 'em all. Let the lands go, and the negroes go, and still-I'm a man!- a man!" "That's the way, Captain," responded the youth, with enthu- siasm, seizing the extended hand of his superior, and pressing it with a real affection. PIIILOSOPHY IN THE BEGGRABS WALLET. 12S3 ( It was just when I had come to this conclusion, Lance, that I snapt my fingers. I couldn't help it. It was the spontaneous sign of my exultation, and -as I did so, I thought I saw the d---d mealy face, blear eyes, hook nose, and utterly rascally whole, of I my creditor, McKewn, back out from before me, and take to the woods at a full run. Along with him went, sheriff and the whole swarm of deputies, all of whom have been dodging about me the whole morning, shaking their d----d writs, ca. sa's, fi. fa's, and a thousand other offensive sheets of penal parchment in my face. I discomfited tLe wretches by that same snap of the fingers, and the adoption of old Jerry Sanford's cry of battle-' Hurrah for nothing!' has made me able to back poverty and the sheriff into the woods." "I'm so glad, Captain; after a pause, was the response of Lance Frampton--but, with some hesitation,. and perhaps, not well knowing how to shape the question which he only desired to intimate-" but Captain, is that all? Will it end so V" "End how?' ' "Won't the sheriff come again "'? "What then! Give him another snap of the fingers, and the war cry," "But won't he take-"' "'The property? Yes! I suppose after a while, I shall have to surrender; but we'll make a d-- d long fight of it, Lance; and we'll get terms, good conditions when we give in-go off with our side arms, [flag flying,'and music playing the grand march ' Hurrah for nothing!" "But, Captain," continued the youth; "I don't altogether know. You're a man of 'arning, and can tell much better than me, but I'm rather dub'ous. LWhen I was a boy, old Humphries of Dor- chester, father of our Bill, you know, he sent the sheriff-after my father, and took himi and took all the property besides, even to the very beds and bedding. Now, won't they take you, Captain, if you can't pay." , page: 124-125[View Page 124-125] 124 . THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. -." Take me, boy! . Do I look like a man in danger from the claws of a sheriff? No, no! There will be blows in that busi- ness. They know better, Lance. -n fact, they arle content, deal- ing with a gentleman, and a soldier to take his baggage wagons, his impedimente, and that purely o it of kindness, as they desire to free him from all incumbrances. They will hardly attempt more! That d---d harpy, McKewn, will be quite content, I suspect, to take the plantation. There are no negroes left, I fear." "But, Tom?" "Tom! oh! ay?-and you think Tom liable?" "Aint he, then?" "'Well, I suppose so. Tom is certainly a negro. .Tom is cer- tainly mine. As mine, Tom is liable for my debts, and it may be, that some d---d fool of a creditor or sheriff may fancy that he can take Tom. But he shall have a hint, in season, of the danger of any such experiments ipon my philosophy. I love Tom. Tom is virtually a free man. It's true, being a debtor, I cannot confer his freedom upon him. But let a sheriff touch him, and I'll put a bullet through his diaphragm. I will, by Jupiter! If I don't do that, Lance-if there's no escape for Tom--for they may seize him when I am napping--after dinner, perhaps-then, I shall kill Tom, Lance; I'll shoot him-him, Tom,--in order to save him. The poor fellow has faithfully served a gentleman.- He shall never fall into the hands of a scamp. I'll sacrifice him as a burnt offering for my sins and his own. Tom, I'm thinking, would rather die my slave, than live a thousand years under anoth- er owner." "He does love you, Captain. "And I love him. The old rascal, I do love thim. He makes the finest stew of any cook in Carolina.- He shall cook for me as long as I'm able to eat; and when I'm not, we shall both be wil- ling to die together." "Well, but Captain, you was saying-" PEILOSOPHY IN THE BEGGAR'S WALLET. 125 "Alh! yes! We are supposing that all's gone, lands, negroes, baggage--all the imp edimente. Every thing but Tom--and what then? That is the point which I have reached, and to which my philosophy reconciles Ime. It is still possible for me to live." "Oh! yes, sir!" i "How the devil should you know? To be sure, I could live precisely as you and a thousand others would live; but yolu see, Lance, life is a very different thing to different persons. One man lives like a dog, a hog, a skunk, a 'coon, or even a cabbage. With such a person, you can despoil him of'nothing by any pro- cess. You car-not rob him. Theivres cannot break into his premi- ses and steal. Take all he has, and he loses nothing. He can still find grub-age --water lies conveniently before him in every puddle-and Le may swallow air without even vexing the feari of a chameleon. He acknowledges only the principle of distension, not of taste or even appetite, and there is no stint of grass and weeds for a starving heifer. ' Root pig or die,' is with him the whole body of law; and his snout has long- since been practised in finding its way! into the potato hills after' the crop has been withdrawn. - But to reconcile a man, with my training, to such a life, requires a rare philosophy indeed. How, with such tastes as mine, am I to live? How dig?--where find potatoes, and with what substitutes for tea and coffeer and Jamaica, refresh the inner man? That, I should be -able to cry 'Hurrah for nothing!' with perfect good kLumour, after such a survey of my case, is the glo- rious triumph -hat I have this day achieved. Would you believe it, Lance, that I go out of the war, with a paltry eleven guineas ' in my pocket. And this is all I really own in the world,-but-" "Captain!" "Well!" "I've got a leetle more than that. Here's twenty guineas that Col. Singleton give me more than a month ago. If you're willing, "' I A page: 126-127[View Page 126-127] 126 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. we'll put your's and mine in the same bag, and you sha have the keeping of it." "You're a goc d boy, Lance, and I love you, but d--n your guineas. What should make you think that I want 'em What should make you think so meanly of me as to suppose that I would rob you of your little stock in trade?" "But it's no robbery, Captain-I'm glad to-" "Pooh, pooh! Put up your guineas,- Lance. , You'll want 'em all. Don't I know you? Are you not going to marry that pret- ty little witch, Ellen Griffin?" "Well, sir-I reckon. Yes, sir, Ellen and me-" "Give her the bag to keep! Don't trust yourself with it, or, in some fit of folly, you'll be for giving it to some other person, who will take you at your word. You will want all that, and even more to begin your career in this world! As for me, I see exactly what I am to do, and will tell you." "I'll thank you, sir." "There was, many years ago, an old Frenchman, that came into our neighbourhood. He was the most dwarfish and dried up lit- tle fellow in the world. He was poor as Job's turkey-" Why was Job's turkey so poor, Captain?" "I suppose, that being a favourite with Job himself, his wife never fed it. But don't inter;upt me by asking such a d--d unnecessary question, Lance! As I was saying of this French- man, he was wretchedly poor, in purse as in body, owned no goods that I could see except the clothes on his back, and a miserable little single-barrel bird-gun, small in bore, but something taller than its owner. The only luxury that the old fellow indulged in . was snuff; and with this, his upper lip, his shirt bosom, coat sleeve, and vest pocket, were all dyed deeply with a never fading saffron brown. His snuff, gun, a supply of powder and shot, and an old box with some mean cooking apparatus, were his only pos- sessions. I doubt if he had an extra pair of breeches. He alight- PHLOSOPHY IN THE BEGGAR'S WALLET. 127 ed suddenly iL the neighbourhood, and presented himself before me, with a polite bow, and a most persuasive grin. "'Monsieur Porgy, I yer of you! You s'all let me live on your plantation! Dere is one house of log by de leetle swamp! Dere s'all be lobody live- in him! 'Spose you s'all soffre me, I s'all live in him! I have no money to pay! I live by my leetle gon! I s'all shoot your little-Lde dove, de-what you call him, patridge, de squirrel, de rabbit, all de leetle beast. I no trobble de deer, and de big bird-de torkey! You s'all soffre me dat leetle house, and to kill, for my leetle dener, dese leetle bird, and de leetle beasts, I s'all be votre tres homble sarvant two t'ousand times, and s'all. t'ank you two, t'ree, seven, eight; fiv' times ovair ' "I consented to the very moderate entreaty; but offered that he should live with me-offered him money-but he refused every thing but the simple privileges which he applied for, 'to liv' in de leetle pole house, by de leetle swamp, and kill de leetle birds and beasts.' There, accordingly, this poor fellow lived, for seven years, literally on nothing. He would accept no gifts, and even strove to put me under obligations. If, for example, he shot a pair of fine English d-icks, which was sometimes'the case, he would bring them to me w'th a grateful grin- "'Monsieur Porgy, you s'all do me de ver' great honneur.' "At first I accepted, but when he steadily refused my help, I refused his game, except as a purchase. His wants -were few and easily provided. His powder and shot, his snuff and coffee, salt and sugar, oil and vinegar-these he procured from a pedlar who went the rounds of the parish at stated periods. To procure these articles, he sold at the cross-roads, or to neighbouring families, his surplus game. He planted a couple of acres of corn and peas, just'about his habitation, which, under his cultivation, yielded twice or thrice as much as any two of my best acres. His food, besides, was wholly procured by his gun, yet he was: nQt a surpri- sing shot. But 'he was indiscriminate in his- saughte -of 'de * : :":n "-%g g^^ page: 128-129[View Page 128-129] 128 o THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. leetle birds.' He showed few preferences. If the dove and par- tridge did not come immediately in his way, he shot down wood- pecker -and blue jay. The hawk was not rejected from his cook- pot. He luxuriated in 'coon and 'possum when he could get them, and with this object, he frequently went on the night-hunts with the negroes. His taste required that his Ibirds and beasts should be utterly stale before he ate them. His larder was hung with birds, of all sorts, almost dropping to pieces, before he thought them well flavoured enough for his palate. Then, with a little salt, oil and red pepper, he made his meal with the relish of Qne who has eaten of a princely feast. He was always cheerful as a lark. He sang and even danced alone beneath his trees. He had been on the place for about a year, when he went off sudden- ly, on foot, to Charleston. When he returned, he brought back with him an old violin, the vilest looking thing in the world, but stuffed to the core with the sweetest music, which the old fellow brought out with singular skill. The instrument was a genuine Cremona- a famous fine one-which, as I found out afterwards, he had left in pawn in the citk. His happiness was quite complete when he had redeemed it. I often strolled out to hear him play. He had no apparent griefs. He never complained-never even fretted- was always ready with a grin of good humour-smile, he could not, on account of the peculiarly ill-formed mouth which he own- ed ;-and so, for seven years he lived, entirely companionless.- Yet he had visitors, and of his own countrymen. At Christmas, he sometimes had no less than three or four guests, who came again at the close of spring. Without bedding or covering, ex- cept the scantiest for himself, they remainqd with him more than a week on each occasion. I was curious to see how he would en- tertain them, and always paid him a visit when I heard of their arrival. He received them with open arms. They were welcome to all heh ;True,' he had nothing; but what then? He made room-frt t/igave place by the fire-side, spread a third of his , . ... ........ p 'u, ::1 PHLOSOPHY IN THE BEGGARrS WALLET. 129 room with pine straw, ground an extra quantity of corn and cof- fee; then, as they had finished their morning meal, he wouLd say-4'Allons! my friends-we s'all go shoot de I6etle birds ' Each had brought his gun, and they knew that each was expected to find his own dinner ; and he did so. I have encountered them on their return :rom a 'morning's excursion,- and their bags were full-and such an assortment! They 'illed every thing that cros- sed their paths, taking care, however, to spare the 'big birds and beasts.' My Frenchman, Louis DuBourg, scrupulously respected his pledges. .But, in fact, they all lacked the enterprise which re- quired long and remote wanderings. Their largest visitors, of the bird kind, were the duck; the squirrel and the rabbit, were the 'small deer,' wLich satisfied their ambition -in respect to large four-footed game. "Now, Lance, what I have told you is a history. Poor old Louis Du Bourg is dead: but he has left me his example! I see exactly how I nrcay live, as happily and as independently as he- that is, when all's over, and I have seen the worst. I shall then turn in to killing' de leetle bird and de leetle beast," squatting on some great man's property. I can surely get this privilege from some of my old associates; and, with two acres of tolerable land, I shall hoe and kill my own corn; sow and dig my own potatoes; cook my own hpminy; sell my ducks and birds when I want powder and shot, and be able, possibly, as I was once something of a hunter, to carry enough venison to market to procure me an occasional demiijbhn of good Jamaica. -Perhaps, in process of time-but I need look no farther. Enough, Lance, my boy, that like my old Frenchman, I shall be able, once or twice a year, to entertain my old friends., You shall come and see me, Lance, you and our friend here, Corporal Millhouse, he shall helD me set my snares, and you, will help me kill my 'leetle birds and beasts,' and with a 'coorn and 'possum hunt, by night, we shall lay in suf- ficient store of venison for a week's entertainment of any friends. . . page: 130-131[View Page 130-131] O30 TrE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. There, boy, is a prospect for you; and, after surveying it, I can sing out heartily, and with a philosophy that is quite consoling- ' Hurrah for nothing! Let the world slide!-Sessa.'" "Oh! Captain," cried the youth, seizing affectionately the hand of his superior, "you shan't work-you shan't hill and hoe corn and potatoes, while I've the hands to do it for you! I'll come and live with you, and work for you---" "You forget, Lance, you are soon to have a wife." "True--to be sure ;" answered the other, staggered for a mo- ment; but- quickly recovering, he cried-"Then, Captain, you must come and live with me. Ellen will be glad, and-" "You're a good fellow, Lance, my lad, and I love yon, though I don't think ;that I shall ever be able to become your guest.- 'Twouldn't suit, Lance. It would be all right that you should live with me, and I must insist upon that, boy, until you are fair- ly married. For me, at the worst, old Louis Du Bourg's plan is the only one. It will have a look of independence, at least, and that is always a matter of great value to a person of my temper. But, hey-! what's the outcry from Tom, and who are these? Help heave me up, Lance, and see toto your weapons. It looks like a surprise!" By dint of great exertions on his own part, and with the-stren- uous help of his lieutenant, the huge bulk of Captain Porgy was lifted into the perpendicular, and, in a moment, Lance and himself were prepared to make battle as if an enemy were upon them. The cause of the alarm was soon explained; and Tom, the cook, accompanied by Corporal Millhouse, rapidly approached at the command of Porgy, bringing with them two of the escaping fu- gitives from the wagon of Mrs. Eveleigh; namely, John, otler- wise Sylvester, the slave of the widow, and Pompey, junior, be- longing to Captain Porgy himself. , * TO HORSE! THE CAMP IN MOTION. ,131 - ,- 4 C HAPTER XX. 'TO HORSE! THE CAMP IN MOTION. "HERrE's a snmash-and-tear-it sarcumstance, Cappin Porgy, as ever you did see ;' quoth Corporal Millhouse, advancing before the fugitives. I Der's John Sylvester, ,Mass Porgy, b'long to widow Ebleigh, and dis"--thrusting his hand familiarly into the wool of Pompey, and pulling him forward-" dis da' our own little Pomp, you know." "Little! The fellow's as tall as you are. Why, Pomp! is that you, boy? Where have you been? What are you doing here? They told me you were carried off by the British." "I git 'way, maussa! Dey tief me, but I git 'way! How you bin, Mass Cappin . God A'mighty! I so glad for see you;" and the fellow ran forward and shook his master's hand with the- ea- gerness with which one welcomes the, best friend in the world.-- "Oh! maussa, it's de blessed t'ing you is come. You hab sword and gun. You mus' mak' haste now. De tory got we-,got Ben and Bill and Josey, Little Peter, and all of we, and Toby, and Jupe, and Sam, an' all of dem b'long to Missis Ebleigh: and he ohab catch Missis Ebleigh, shese'f, and him son, Mass Art'ur, and de obe'shar, Mr. Fordham, and de wagon, and Little Peter, and all--only Mr. John Sylvester, yer, and me, Pomp, show 'em legs, and git 'way." "What the d -- 1 does the fellow jabber about? 'What's the rigmarole?" "It's a surprise, Cappin, and no mistake," put in Corporal Mill- house, ( a smash-and-tear-it business! as I said before. You see, page: 132-133[View Page 132-133] 132. THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. the tories, so they call 'em, half a dozen or more, in mighty strange clothes and looks-" "He face and head all bury in hair and whisker, maussa,' da's true;" interposed John Sylvester. "Yes-you see " "Well!" "Have laid an ambuscade for this lady, her son, overseer, wag- on and negroes, and these two chaps have slipped out of the scrape." "Eh! What's this?" demanded Porgy, at once beginning to perceive that the affair possessed some essentials of importance. "Do you mean to say that this ambush has been set to-day--that these things have only now taken place .' How long-fellow- you-what's your name?" This was said to John Sylvester. "What! Mass Porgy, you no 'member me, John Sylbester, wha' b'long to widow Ebleigh? I sure I 'member you fas' enough." "No matter! To be sure I remember you, John, and your great grandmother, too, if you desire it, but we need say nothing of either now. Where is your mistress, John?" "In de wood, Mass Cappin-on de road guine home to de plantation, jes' down by de leetle creek wha' run out-of Turkey swamp. Dere we meet dem man in de hair and whisker. ie shoot-I fear'd he kill Mass Art'ur and de obe'shar (overseer)- he catch Missis-den he jump out 'pon we people wid de wagon, and I reckon he catch we all, only we two, me and Pomp, get off in de woods. Dey push arter us, but we lef' jem in little green bay, and run, I'spose must be most four miles, 'fore we see smoke. We creep up, and Pomp say-' Da's maussa, Tom, me fellow sar- bant! I know 'em, like me own fadder!'" "Yes: da me!" quoth Tom, interposing to confirm the re- port. SCAMPER AND SCUFFLE; FLIGHT AND FIGHT. 133 "And this but now, and only four miles off! and here, you d--d pair of long collards, you've taken a good hour to tell it. Boot and saddle, Lance! Millhouse, to horse! Tom, gather up follow as fast as you can. John Sylvester--up behind Lieutenant Frampton. You, Pomp, jump up behind Corporal Millhouse, and show the way between you. Ride apart, Lance, you and Millhouse, and see to your priming. Let these fellows tell when we are within three hundred yards from the spot where the affair took place. Give the whistle then; and haul up and move with caution. Don't dismount-we may have to dash in upon the ras- cals headlong. I'll tace the woods betweeni you--let there be some twenty yards be;ween us each. And now, at a smart gal- lop, as soon as you car!" It required but a few minutes to prepare the party in order for the march, as required. John jumped up behind Frampton, Pomp took his place in the rear of Millhouse, and Capt. Porgy, setting these two horsemen in the proper direction, dashed for- ward through the piney woods with a spirit and celerity that seemed scarcely consistent with his great bulk, and the languor which he had exhibited but a little while before. CHAPTER XXI. SCAMPER AND SCUFFLE; FLIGHT AND FIGHT. THE negro guides did their duty with the exactness and prompti- tude of persons who knew exactly what was required of them, and what was the object of the arrangement. They stopt the rapid motion of the horsemen when within three or four hundred yards of the spot where they conjectured the wagon had been 12 page: 134-135[View Page 134-135] 16e , THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. left, and with that happy instinct which marks the faculty of the Southern woodsman, they uttered their several warnings nearly at the same moment. The horsemen drew up carefully, the ne- groes, John- and Pomp, leapt down, and kept along on foot with the horses, which were now held at a walk; and, in this way, they approached the opening of the road, within eighty yards of the place where the wagon stood. Here, Porgy was enabled to get a practical glance of the state of affairs. They arrived at a fortunate moment. The negroes, who had been captured, roped together in pairs, were marching off under the charge of two of the ruffians, who were both mount- ted, and were still to be seen moving slowly away into the pine forests in the distance. Four other horses were discovered fasten- ed to the swinging branches of a tree some ten or fifteen steps from the wagon. The wagon-horses were hidden in the woods. The vehicle, itself, however, presented a singular appearance of vitality. The cover had been thrown off, and lay upon the ground on one side of it. On the other were to be seen bales, bags, boxes and barrels; and, every now and then, something was seen to upheave itself within the wagon, to revolve slowly over the sides, and come down upon the grovnd with a heavy squelsh. Were the robbers all in the wagon, the two excepted who were to be seen going off with the negroes? That was Porgy's first question, which he soon answered, as he saw that the contents of the wagon were thrown out slowly, and seperately, giving evidence of the presence of a single worker only. Where were the other three? In ambush somewhere-but where? A moment's reflec-' tion led our troopers, in a brief conference, to the conclusion that they were somewhere in front, between the wagon and carriage; and not in the rear, or on the route which they were pursuing.- The carriage was to be seen, and Lance Frampton fancied that he could distinguish the garments of a woman in it. Porgy survey- ed the field with a military eye. A dead silence prevailed, broken \ SCAMPER AND SCUFFLE; FLIGHT AND FIGHT. 135 only by the dull, heavy sound of the falling packages from the i wagon. "There is some bush-whacking going on still," said he; " some hiding and seeking, but it is not hereabouts. The fellow in the wagon works coolly and composedly, as if he -had no apprehen- sions, If there had been any suspicion of danger from our side of the woods, the aml;ush would have been so placed, as to have kept us from working so far forward. Our first duty is clear.- We must pursue these fellows who are marching away, cut them off, and rescue the negroes. This will compel the ambush to show itself. We may draw their bullets, as we appear-but if we are sudden, with a shout, and go forward at full speed, we are very apt to escape the taste of lead. We can ride those rascals down! They are but two! Lance, you will keep back, and, with John and Pomp, contrive to capture the fellow in the wagon.- Don't kill him if you- can help it. We must get his despatches, and cut the secret of this expedition from under his tongue! Do you hear?" "Iivery word, Captain!" "Very good; now, if you will dismount, fasten your nag in the bushes, and creep fDrward with John and Pomp towards the wagon, you will. probably, have a good chance,. the moment after we make our rush! The rascal will then jump and make for the bushes, or for the horses. In either case,- you ought to be able to grapple him. See to it and let the boys understand. you." The negroes were soon instructed, and betrayed a patriotic eagerness to be up and doing. Seeing that Frampton had fasten- ed his horse, and was already advanced upon his way, with his sable allies, in the direction of the wagon, Porgy gave the signal, and, with a terrible shout from the throat of Millhouse, the two dashed headlong out o the wood in pursuit of the robbersiwho had charge of the fugit ve negroes. At this sound, as Porgy had anticipated, the outlaw, Norris, page: 136-137[View Page 136-137] 136 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. who had been at the work of unlading the wagon, naturally pop- ped up his head$to see what was the matter. The vigilant eye of Frampton saw it. He could have shot the fellow even in the single instant of opportunity which was thus afforded him; but he remembered his instructions, and forebore; wisely, it seemed, for Norris, seeing the charge of two well mounted horsemen upon his companions, and recognising these as new comers, whose rein- forcement to the two customers whom they had already found so troublesome, might well lead to doubts of his own safety, conclu- ded to see to this matter, ivithout any regard to the spoils con- tained in the wagon. Seizing his rifle, accordingly, he leapt out of the vehicle; but, with singular ill-fortune. His feet alighted upon a hamper of Irish potatoes, part of the contents of the wagon, which rolled away beneath him, and laid him at length with his face to the ground. Before he could recover himself, Lance Frampton was upon him. The rifle of the outlaw was wrested from his grasp; and, with the vigorous young lieutenant griping him firmly by the throat, John Sylvester by the legs, and Pompey, junior, literally sitting, astraddle, upon his back, Dick Norris resigned himself to his fate, after a few spasmodic but ineffectual struggles! The whole affair consumed but a few minutes, and was concluded by Lance Frampton securing his prisoner, within the wagon, by the strongest cordage, scientifically knotted; while John Sylvester, pistol in hand, was seated at his head, instructed to quiet him with a bullet, should he prove trou- blesome. Frampton, meanwhile, with Pomp, stole away to the bushes opposite, prepared to afford succour to his friends whenev- er there should be need and opportunity. Meanwhile, Bostwick, the Squatter, lying snug in his place of watch, contemplating his enemy only in the direction of the car- riagq, was confounded by the sudden appearance of the horse- men in his rear. With their shout and charge, he became al- most instantly aware of the assault upon, and the captivity of SCAMPER AND SCUFFLE; FLIGHT AND FIG3T. 137 Norris; for, though tLe struggle had taken place on the opposite side of the vehicle, of which 'he had but a very imperfect view from the spot where he crouched, he could yet see enough to as- sure him of such an inequality of force, between the parties, as must be fatal to his colleague. He was too heedful of himself to incur any unnecessary perils in the effort to succour his com- panion; :and, indeed, could not well have done-so, at least, at that distance, and with his rifle, as it was impossible so to distinguish any of the writhing figures upon the ground, as to be sure that he should not draw his lead upon his friend rather than his foe. Besides, he well knew, that, to show himself in any demonstra- tion upon the new ene:nies in the rear, he must only become ex- posed to the shot of those whom he felt to be somewhere harbour- ing, and on the watch, in front. To crawl backwards-to increase the distance between Limself and all these parties-his own as well as the rest-beecame now the selfish policy of the Squatter. He could do nothing to help his comrades--the negroes would be recovered-two of his associates were slain already--he him- self was in danger, unless he moved promptly away; and, besides, he was already in possession of the most valuable of the portable spoils,--the strong-box of the widow, having the important paper--as virtually important to the rich McKewn as to the Squat- ter, Bostwick-to say nothing of the fifty guineas, in money, which--he had the widow's word for it-was in the strong box also; and of which he had already determined to betray nothing to his comrades. It required no great argument to persuade him to be content with his acquisitions, and to draw off in season; no matter what fate should befal his companions. He crawled back, accordingly; slowly and with admirable circumspection; and so changed his ground, as to place himself out of immediate reach of either of the several groups, into which his assailants were di- vided. But one anxiety alone prevented him from utterly taking his 12* page: 138-139[View Page 138-139] 138 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. departure. . He would, unhesitatingly, have gone, were he sure that his comrades were all slain, or certain to be slain, without speaking. But the doubt occurred to him. r "Norris is taken! Should he confess? Should others be taken and confess? Thar's the trouble! Thar's the danger and the resk!" This reflection disquieted him. He lingered in sight of the field of action, fully assured that he ought to fly, yet with that in- certitude of mood which left him incapable of determination. "If they confess," said he to himself, " there's nothing for me but to cut and run! The country would be too hot for me!" Why he should not leave it?--is the question that might occur to any body else. But the wretch was not without his ties, his affections, his sensibilities, such as they were--and when he thought of the necessity of leaving the country, a picture of three young children-one tall, sad-eyed girl among them-grew vivid- ly up before his eyes! He had a wife too, but he saw nothing of her. It was the three children, alone, that formed the spell, so potent about the heart of the bad and seemingly heartless man. Strange, that such a creature should so feel and think, at suci a moment- Yet not strange either!" Let us follow our partisans. The wild halloo of their onset soon made their presence and purpose apparent to the persons they pursued. Looking about them quickly, one cried to the other- - "Jimini! They're Marion's men, as I'm a sinner! Here's a fix! Cast the niggers loose, Jeff, and use a bloody spur ef you knows how! 'We must scatter." "How many do you see, Tony?" cried the other. "Only two as yit; but they rush as ef there was a dozen!- They've got the heels of us, too, I reckon! there's no racing with such a nag as this! I'm for the swamp, Jeff; I can't trust the ; run; I must try the dodge! And you better do the same, but ' \ e \ On' 1 SCAMPER AND SCUFFLE; FLIGHT AND FIGHT. 139 make your push for the hammock lower down. We must scat- ter!" Wheeling to the right, as he spoke these words, one of the out- laws made off for the denser woods which conducted to the heart of the swamp, and was soon lost to the sight of his companion in the thick undergrowth of that region. The other, whether less apprehensive of danger, or more confident of his horse, which was young and of tolerable swiftness, seemed to hesitate. He bade the negroes run ahead, and hide themselves; then, once more looking over his shoulder, he felt the necessity of going\off at all speed, and did so with the best impulse of whip and row]l. Porgy and Corporal Millhouse werel soon up with the regroes who cheer- ed them with hearty shuts is they drew nigh. ' Da maussa!" was tie cry of his own people, almost with one voice. "Hurrah, maussa! Gorrah Mighty breSs you! How you do?" "Young, boys, young and lively! God bless you i How many of these tory rascals are there?" "Only two ob dem, maussa; one push -right ahead t'rough de woods-t'udder one gone keen for de swamp. Push hard, maussa, you sure for ca;ch 'em. He boss no better dai cow for run." "Don't mind the fellow in the swamp, Corporal . We can look for him as we retirn. Go back, boys, ;o the wagon, and help Lieutenant Frampton to put the things inzo it again, or you will lose all your chance for coffee and molasses. Now, Corporal, as you are left-handed, take the right of this robber, while. I take the left. His nag will be a good one, if we do not overhaul him between us in the next -hree hundred lyards." No more words! Taey were off, separated by an interval of fifty yards, perhaps, and coursing through the pine woods at a tearing gallop. A few minutes hard riding gave them a fresh glimpse of the fugitive. He was making up for lost time, and page: 140-141[View Page 140-141] "O { THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. going through the undergrowth, and among the thick-set trees, which began to approach each other more and more closely, at a rate, which, to those who have never beheld a fox chase in tle South, would iseem sheer desperation. The fellow was a good rider, however! and an experienced hunter, born in the bush, and of kindred to the fox himself!" ' He goes w11e, but it can't last! muttered Porgy, as he applied his ,persuaders anew to the flanks of his own high-spirited courser. It was wonderful to see how well the animal sped with -such a bulk upon his back! But the steed was a powerful one, chosen heedfully with reference to the severe duty which he had been re- quired to perform. The fugitive looked about him as he fled.- The partisan Captain could already count his gains. The space was reduced between thema. The outlaw soon made this discovery. He extricated one of his pistols from the holster, and knit his teeth firmly together, with the air of a man who already anticipates the worst. Porgyl was too good a soldier not to calculate on a cer- tain degree of danger, in such an enterprise as that which he had in hand;-butt as he was apt to phrase it himself- "Danger is a part of the contract! It is to be counted on, but not consdered I He who stops to consider the danger never goes into battle! No wise man, embarking in such an amusement as war, ever considers its mischances as likely to occur in his own case. He knows the Fatal Sisters have singled out certain favour- ites for Valhalla, but he always takes for granted that they have overlooked himself! He relies, always, on his peculiar personal star, and goes into battle-not to be killed, but to kill!" With such reflections, our Captain Porgy, corpulent as he is, was very apt to behave in battle, as we are told the Berserkirs, or wild warriors of the Scandinavians, were wont to behave. To dash, with a sort of phrenzy, into the worst of dangers, totally heedless of them all, as if bearing a charmed life-and only seek- ing to destroy! And such a practice, by the way, is very apt to "' ;, * SCAMPER ANE SOUFFLE;o FLIGHT AND FIGHT. 141 carry with it its own securities. A rage that blinds the cham- pion to all dangers, and makes him totally unconscious of all fears, is very apt to insp're fear in the enemy who beholds 4lis ap- proach. The onset of Porgy was well calculated to prompt such feelings. A mountain in a passion, and in progress-a human avalanche descending upon the plain--crashing, rending, over- whelming, as it goes-such, in some small degree, was the image presented to the mind of the trembling enemy, seeing the head- long rush of our plethoric Captain!- Our outlaw was soon enabled to distinguish his chief pursuer. He knew his man as he approached-knew his character-his fierce,. headlongf valour, the power of his arm, the fleetness 'of his steed. His mind became oppressed heavily, with the sense of whelming danger, as hej saw the space lessening momently be- tween them. He now Saw his other assailant, Corpora- Millhouse, who, less rapidly, but nuite as certainly, was making towards him on the right. He Ifelt very sure that the game was up with him unless some interposition of Good Fortune-cal;. it, if you will, his gallows destiny--should baffle the pistols, or the swords, of his pursuers. The outlaw had no remarkable properties of mind or courage ;--hel was only one of the myriad of ordinary men, who, as we are told by the dramatic poet, issue from one common mould ; nature, after their being cast, ashamed of her own handy-work, and sending them forth into the world without putting any mark upon, them! But he was E drilled and prac- ticed ruffian; had served for years as a soldie ; as a robber; as i a pirate;--and, from habit, and induration, was a man with whom the exigency only brought out the coolness, the determination and resource. H e did not show his pistol, buti he cocked it! He saIw the course which Porgy rode, and he slightly inclined his horse to the right, in order that he should use his pistol-hand more freely. Porgy suspected his object and nMade a correspond- ing change in his own course. He was now sufficiently nigh to the robber to make himself heard. He accordingly cried out- - page: 142-143[View Page 142-143] "2 THE SWORD AND THE, DISTAFF. "Halt, you d-- -d outlaw and surrender, or. I'll cut you down in your tracks!" The fellow, slightly glancing over his left shoulder, "grinned horribly a ghastly smile," but made no answer. The Captain was near enough, by this time, to fancy that he heard the click of the-pistol-lock; but it was fancy only. The outlaw had cocked it several seconds before. The latter glanced uneasily at Corporal Millhouse, who was now approaching him on the right; and felt the necessity of crippling one of his enemies at once. By this time, Porgy was preparing himself also; but his slightest motion seemed to become apparent to the fugitive. Sharply applying both rowels to' his horse's flanks, the great sabre of the partisan Captain was drawn in an instant, and the flash of it, as it sud- denly waved in air, gleamed unpleasantly in the eyes of the man it threatened. He kept his coolness, however, and his course; and, as ,Porgy came on with a speed suddenly accelerated, and while he was measuring the distance which he should first over- come before rising in his stirrups to execute the fatal stroke, the Outlaw pulled trigger under his left arm. The steed of Porgy swayed round at the instant, threw out its fore-feet- wildly, then settled heavily down upon the earth, in the immediate agonies of death t Porgy, however, had sufficient warning that the animal was hit, and, releasing his feet from the stirrups as the beast was falling, he escaped from being crushed beneath his weight. He recovered his legs with some effort, but without injury. The horse of the outlaw kept qn: but there had been a pause in his pro- gress, which, however brief, had enabled Corporal Millhouse to get almost within striking distance. But he was on the right of the' outlaw, who, ignorant of the left-handed, and single-handed, condition of the remaining pursuer, fancied that some change in th'eir relations was necessary to enable the other to use his sword. But he really saw no sword, and'his object was simply to escape the pistol. But, against this, Millhouse was desperately resolved. He had hitherto, kept his steed rather in hand. He now plied SCAIMPER AND SCUFFLE; FLIGHT AND FIGHT. 143 him with the terrible Spanish rowels which he wore, and which he never used but in extreme: cases. To the surprise of the outlaw, who had judged of the horse by his previous performances, the animal made but a single bound or two, to bring his rider within striking distance; then, as the outlaw fumbled to extricate his re- maining pistol from the left holster, he beheld, to his increased surprise, a gleaming sabre suddenly plucked from an invisible scabbard, and wielded, with a wonderful ease, in the left hand of his enemy! He bowed his body to the opposite side of the sad- dle, drove the spurs into his beast, bore down upon the curb to the left,-almost swinging the horse about as he rode,-and all this in a single moment-but all too late! A swift, sharp flash, as of lightning, seemed to darken his' sight, and the next moment the keen, heavy steel might have been heard to gride through the solid skull of the victim. Down he sank, hanging to one stirrup, whi-e the fiightened horse, dragging him forward,- darted blindly-q into a clump of scrubby oaks, and became tangled and held, until caught by Millhouse. Captain Porgy came up a few seconds af- ter; almost as soon, indeed, as Millhouse, who had just, alighted to extricate and examine the body. They both-bent over in this scrutiny, but to neither was the victim known. "The face of the rascal is strange to me;" said Porgy, "and that's a strange fact in 'my experience; for, in this seven years' war, I fancy I've made tae acquaintances, in some way dr other, of all the rascals in the country 7 Do you know any tl ing about him, Corporal 8" "Only that he is a rascal, Cappin, or was so a while ago;- and that he's dead now as Job's turkey, with a loss of all the profits of his trade! I never seed him afore!" "The scoundrel! Had he been Christian-enough to have suffer- ed himself to have been cut down five minutes ago, and before that last pistol shot, I could have been sorry for him! But he has done for my noble gray, the best of friends; a horse that has s .1 \ page: 144-145[View Page 144-145] "4 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. borne his own flesh and mine so long to the satisfaction of both! I feel, Corporal, as if I could blubber like a boy over his first colt!" Our two partisans did not waste any unnecessary time, you may be sure, in a fruitless examination of the outlaw's body; nor did they consume much thought in speculating upbn an event that had too frequently occurred in their experience, not to leave them comparatively callous. "See what the raecal has about him, Corporal;" said Porgy; and, like a good trooper, perfectly aware of what such cases usual- ly required, Millhouse searched the clothes, and turned out the "silver lining" of the pockets of the dead man, with all the dex- terity of a Parisian Chiffonier. He stript him of every thing of value; and,-seeing that he wore a tolerable pair of English boots, he had them off in the twinkling of an eye; though, how the thing was done-our Chiffonier with one hand only-it is as diffi- cult to describe as to conceive. His search into the pockets of the outlaw was productive of no very astonishing results. They yielded up only a few English shillings and sixpences; an empty flask, the odour of which still pungently declared for its former contents; a clasp, and a dirk knife; extra flints and steel; a small finger ring, and the fragment of a bracelet or necklace. The ring had been worn about the neck, suspended by a faded and soiled ribbon, which had once been blue. Of what was this the miser- able token? Was it love, or gratitude, or a filial feeling, which had hung this ornament about the neck of the ruffian? There is no record? The memorial was of a nameless virtue! Captain Porgy sSurveyed these things, as they were severally produced by the search of the Corporal, and, after the scrutiny was over, he yielded them, with the grace of a feudal baron, to the possession of the latter. "Keep 'em, Millhouse, until you find the proper heirs for them." SCAMPER AND SCUFFLE; FLIGHT AND FIGHT. 145 The Corporal grinned, as he replied- I reckon they'll be rether slow, Cappin, to ask after 'em." "Send them to me, should they ever be so bold, and these shall furnish my answer," quoth Porgy, at the same ;ime taking possession of the holsters and pistols-a very useful pair of the bull species-which the outlaw had carried. "These and the horse, shall be mine, Millhouse; and then I lose by the exchange. My brave old gray! He was worth a score of such nags as tais!" And here ae walked round the still trembling animal, taken from the outlaw. "Yet he must do! He has bone and strength enough, per- haps, for a season in camp--peace and no active service! He will do to ride about the plantation, and for a Saturday hunt. He must do-the devil talse the unchristian dog, who should kill a man's horse in sheer wantonness, and when it couldn't profit him at all!" "Heworn't to know that, Cappin!" was the suggestion of Millhouse. "He's wiser by this time! He should have known it. Did he expect to escape us both? Did he think I'd leave such an an- imal as mine unrevenged? If you hadn't cut him down, Corpo- ral, and I had laid hands on him, I'd have scalped him! -As it is, considering his condition, I forgive him! God forbid that I should harbour malice against the dead. But, were he living! Were he living!" 13 page: 146-147[View Page 146-147] "6 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. CHAPTER XXII. DELIVERANCE. OUR Captain of Partisans, after this ebullition of Pagan fe ling and Christian philosophy, proceeded to mount the horse of the rufflian,'taken, perforce, in exchange for his own; and proceeded, in considerable sullenness, in the direction of the scene of former action, and where Lance Frampton remained in possession of! the wagon. He was followed, more slowly, by Corporal Millholse; that excellent trooper, following a practice that had been too iuch taught by the ciuel war through which he had gone, leaving the carcass of the slain outlaw, upon the spot where he had fallen; having no sort of notion, apparently, that humanity required him to give it better sepulture than that afforded by a wintry forest. We shall see, however, that the Corporal's omissions were repaired' at a more becoming moment, by his superior. The negroes, meanwhile, still roped in pairs, had returned in safety to the wagon, and had been set free from their villein bonds by the ready couteau de chasse of Lieutenant Frampton. Our Captain, on his return, found the latter in quiet possession of the field of action, with the ruffian Norris well hampered with plouo-h- lines under the tail of the wagont and yoked to one of the whecls. He deigned but a single glance at the captive, who lay coiled up like a snake, looking quite as full of venom, and just as ready for the spring at his enemy's breast! But the ability no longer secoLd- ed the will! Capt. Porgy bestowed but a single glance upon the grouped negroes, who were all busy in repacking the wagon with its contents, which had been so unceremoniously tumbled out by the captive outlaw. He had recognized the voice of his own slaves, even in the hurry of his pursuit of the fugitives; but he DELIVERANCE. 1447 had not then scanned their faces. Their familiar features, and af- fectionate assurances of love, touched the soul of the sensual and the selfish scldier, who was not wholly made of clay. "Thank you, boys, thank you, my good fellows. God bless you! I'm really glad to see you again, all of you ; and to see that the tories hav'nt quite eaten you all; but, as for shaking hands, just now, that's impossible! We must do ouw work first. Keep at yours, like good fellows; shovel in the kegs; and you shall all be rewarded. But now to business; and first, Lance, about the carriage? the widow and her party, and the rest of these robbers? What is your report? What have you seen? What heard? Speak-we have no time to lose!" "Well, Captain, there's nothing to report but what you see for yourself. There's the lady, I reckon-it's a woman, you see, set- ting bolt upright in tLe front seat of the carriage. At least, it looks like a woman, by the dress, but I haint seen it move once sence I've been watching it- I've seen nobody, and nothing else, though I've kept a bright look out over all the track between, and the boys have been scouting, jest about here, and witfin reach of my rifle. I cidn't want them to resk themselves by go'ng too nigh to the carriage." "You we-e right, particularly as you could see nothing stirring in that quar;er. ThaFs something singular! Our demonstration should have caused Fordham and young Eveleigh to show them- selves, unless, indeed, they were hurt, or felt themselves to be watched by enemies. Have you kept your eyes, Lance, on that ong grass around the carriage?" "Yes, sir, pretty mu ch, but couldn't see so much as a sparrow stirring any where! It's a dead calm, as far as I could see." "Strange! We've chased two of these rascals. Here's a third. Are there more of them? John and Pomp reported half a dozen or more. They were probably mistaken. Ho v now, Pomp- John?" page: 148-149[View Page 148-149] "8 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. The two negroes disagreed; but they were positive as to five or six assailants on the ground. "S'pose you ask him, Captain," said Lance, pointing to the captive outlaw. ' "To be sure-right! Hark ye, fellow; who are you? What's" your name?. And how many had you in your company?" ! The fellow glared up fiercely at the inquirer, but made no an- swer. "Sullen, eh! Well, we will find a way to make you speak! There's no use to waste words upon this scoundrel! We must put him to the hempen question. A rope, with a swinging limb at one end and a rogue at the other, will probably find an answer quick enough, and sometimes even rises into eloquence. The short way, now, is the best! Mount you, Lance, and we'll all three make a rush for the carriage. We can't be mousing all day with fruitless conjectures! Here comes Tom, too, just iin season. We can trust him to keep watch over this rascal! Here, Tom, 'light, and take these pistols-keep them within six inches of this fellow's head; and give him his physic, a full dose frbm both bottles, if he offers to give you trouble, or if any body comes to help him! 'Light, I say, you lazy rascal, and be quick!" "Ki! Mass Porgy!-you talks as ef I hadn't a hundred poun' of pot and kettle on dis nigger t'ighs (thighs)! Gib 'em time, I tell you! Here, you boys. You Pomp, and John, and Dick, and Bob-enty I know you all; you han'some, pot-black rascals! You no see wha' I want? Help tak' off some of dese pretic'lars wha' I hab yer-'nough to bury any man, eben ef he bin name Samson!" The negroes eagerly went to Tom's assistance. "Why, bruddcr Tom, you is load mos' like a mule ;" quoth John, almost pulling away the thigh of the cook in the endeavour to withdraw a gridiron, without first remarking that it was well- strapped to the member! DELIVERANCE. - 149 "An' you pulls to onload dis mule, berry much as ef you was an ass, br dder Johr! Dere-you hab 'em now: you see he 'pen' (depend) 'pon dat little strap, and buckle '! Tom was relieved after a while, and, now alight,-was pro- vided with the pistols taken from the outlaw whom Millhouse had cut down. He placed himself at the head of the captive, Norris. "Now, buckrah," said he to the ruffian, "jes you be easy and cibil, whey you is, or I'll g'e (give) you-the benefit of dese yer two barking puppies!"-showing the two pistols in ugly proximi- ty to the oltlaw's jaws as he spoke. Tom was an old soldier; cool and confident; who stood ready at all times, to execute his master's orders without the smallest scruple. He always rose too, on an occasion like the present, in his sense of wha; was due to his elevation. "Niggers!" said he to the clustering slaves, "you kin stan' back dere, and not crowd too close 'pon de buckrah wha' I got to shoot, may-be!" Captain Porgy, mounted, as we have seen, upon the horse of the outlaw by whom his own had been shot, having seen that his two comraces were quite ready, now gave the signal, which was responded to by a tremendous shout from the throat of Corporal Millhouse. The worthy Captain took the lead, and, alowing a lit- tle interval between them, the three partisans darted forward at a smart gallop, riding, as they had every reason to apprehend, into something like a wolf-;rap. The trap had, indeed, been set, as we have sufficiently shown; but we have also seen in what manner its teeth were drawn. Oir gallant partisans were unassailed by any foe, and encountered no strange presence, un;il they were thirty yards of the carriage; when the overseer, Fordham, sprang up froim the bushes ir which he had so long been crouching, and cried out his welcome to the strangers. "Friends! friends!" he shouted, dropping his rifle to the ground, 13* E page: 150-151[View Page 150-151] 150 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. and qapping his hands. "We're none but friends here, now, i reckon, Captain. God be praised for sending you jest at the right moment!" The troopers drew up suddenly. "Who is that?" demanded Porgy. "Why, don't you remember me, Captain? Fordham, you know, that you used to see at Major Eveleigh's, and---" "Ah!, Fordham ;-yes! How are you, my good fellow, and all? Are you all well 8" "Yes, thank God, and mighty glad to see you, as you bring us safety! Glad to see you at any time, Captain; but preticilarr ly jest now, when we did'nt knowi whether we should ever have to sup upon anything better than levad and cold steel agin! We've had a mighty sharp scrimmaging here for more than three hours, and been in such a stew as I don't want to be in ag'in." "Not like the stews of Tom's making then;" quoth our Cap-' tain, sotto voce; " they are such as a man might s im in without feeling too hot with the exercise, or getting beyond his depth at any time! Stew! do you say, Mr. Fordham! I trust I can say, 'well done' to you!" "Well, it's pretty well, then, I tell you! I'm thinking, consider- ing all things, we made a pretty good out of it-Master Arthur Eveleigh and me! But God be praised for bringing you when He did; for I don't know how it would ha' turned out in the eend. Even ef we could ha' stood it out tell dark night, then, their great- er number, would have brought them down upon us; and on which side, there would be no telling. You've saved us, Captain, I tell you; and I thank you for it--and bless God for it, and all other marcies," By this time, they were joined by young Arthur Eveleigh, who showed himself, rising out of the bushy fastnesses, as soon as he heard Fordham cry aloud in tones of confidence and cheer, He- promptly came forward and joined the party, and was hurriedly \ \ DELIVERANCE. 151 introduced, by Fordham, to the Captain of Partisans, but not be- fore the worthy fellow lhac embraced the youth with such a sense of joyous relief, as was natural to a heart so loyal under the circum- stances. He then broughtthe youth forward, saying- "This, Captain Porgy, is Master Arthur Eveleigh, son of the widow Eveleigh, whom you remember. He's done mighty good sarvice in this scrimmaging business. He'll be a man, I tell you, ef ever there was one." "Good!" answered Porgy,; alighting and grasping -,he hand of the blushing youth, with an encouraging frankness, "You've begun early, and well, Master Arthur and a good beginning is always half the battle! . I'm glad of it for your sake, ar-d that of your parents! But, talk'ng of your parents, reminds me of your excellent and amiable mo-,her, whom I claim as an old friend.- Let us go to her assistance. I trust that she's tot hurt." And the Captain of Partisans turned and proceeded toward the carriage, accompanied by the others. t"I think not; I hope not;" answered the youth anxiously, while hurrying forward ahead of the rest, his stride increasing to a bound and run, as he advanced. The eyes of Porgy followed him. "A fine, vigorous lad; well made; looks like his father in form, his mother in face; bating the eyes, which are not blue, and which look far less amiable. I should say the lad was a bold, rash, high-spirited fellow. "He's all that, Captain! He'll fight, too, like the devi:. Twa'nt so easy to keep him back and quiet, to keep him from prtting his head up as a mark; but he'll soon l'arn, with proper edication!- It's surprising how well he could take the track and keep it. The work was to keep him down ; but he had sense enough to see how 'twas needful! We've been watching here--jest covering the ground with our beads, for a good houri;, not daring to stir- not knowing how soon we should hear the crack of an inimy's rift." ' page: 152-153[View Page 152-153] 152 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. "How many of these rascals were there?" demanded Porgy, "We have one of them, a prisoner; one was cut down by Corpo- ral Millhouse; and another made his escape into the swamp, half a mile or so below. That accounts for three of them." "There were six in all, at first, I reckon; but its not- so certain but there might have been more. Of these we killed one." "There are then, at least, two yet to account for. They must be about-are probably not far off. But they will keep snug and quiet for awhile. It's hardly likely that they will attempt any. thing farther at present. But keep your rifles primed, and your hoyses at hand. We must not let ourselves be surprised!" These orders were given more in deail to Lance Frampton. He and Corporal Millhouse made themseles busy, and took the ne- cessary precautions. Meanwhile, Capt. Porgy proceeded towards the carriage, having considerately delayed his own and the move- ments of Fordham, in that direction, by saying- "A moment, or two; Mr. Fordham! Let the young man re- lease his mother himself!" The youth, meanwhile, had sprung with proper alacrity to this grateful duty. The mother and son embraced with mutual tears and thankfulness. The glad widow held the happy boy apart from her, gazed fondly in his face, and then, even where she stood, in. the box of the coachman, sank 'down upon her knees in- silent prayers to Heaven. The boy instinctively san,4 down beside her, and both yielded themselves, in the sight of Heaven, to fralnk and fervent but silent prayer. THE SOLDIER AND THE LADY. 153 CHAPTER XXIII. THE SOLDIER AND THE LADY. THE good sense, and good taste, of Captain Porgy, sufficed to prevent him from interrupting such a scene. He stood apart, con- ferring with Fordham, seeming to see nothing at the carriage ; but his eye took in all the sweet picture of maternal love; of all the forms of love, perhaps, the most pure, the least selfish, the longest lived! At length, the Voice of the widow was heard calling our partisan. Captain Porgy-will you not suffer me to thank you?" Our Captain, as we know, was not one of the most sprightly of living cavaliers. Agility, as he himself freely admitted, formed no portion among his physical virtues; but he certainly made the most astonishing efforts, at this summons, to appear agile; and did succeed, we allow, in reaching the carriage in a tolerably short space of time, and without appearing too greatly breathed from the exertion. As he drew nigh, the widow, supported by her son, alighted from the box, and extended her hand to the grasp of her deliverer. Conspicuous on each of her wrists was a dark ring, the mark of the lords with which she had been tied by the ruffians. l How much ought I to thank you, Capt. Porgy---how much do I owe you, sir! See, from what-indignities you have rescued me!)7 "Would I had been with you some hours sooner, my dear madam ;,1 cried the Cap ain, seizing her hand and carrying it, in courtly fashion, to his lips. Those were days, be it remembered, of more lavish ceremonial than ours; and the act was held one of mere grace, rather than of gallantry. At all events, it seemed page: 154-155[View Page 154-155] 154 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. to occasion no emotion in the bosom of Mrs. Eveleigh, and lessen- ed, in no degree, the warmth of her acknowledgements. "That you have come in season for our safety-to relieve my dear son, and this brave-man to whom I owe so much, is quite enough to make me thankful to God, and forever grateful to you! Ah sir, Ihave passed a terrible hour and more! How I boreup against my own terrors, thus fettered, and unable to act, or even to speak, without going mad, I know not! But all is over now, I trust! There is no more danger V." "I hope: not;-I believe not, my dear Mrs. Eveleigh; and, now that it is over, perhaps I ought to congratulate you on what has taken place. It has had its good, along with its evil. It has brought out the manhood in your brave son, and shown the ad- mirable stuff which he has in him for future work. Mr. Fordham has given me a glowing account of his conduct. I am really sor- ry, for his sake, that our wars are ended. I should like to take him into my keeping as my Ensign." The tears again gathered into the mother's eyes, while the boy's cheeks became crimson; Some farther conversation ensued be- tween the widow and the partisan on this subject, so grateful to the mother; until the lad himself interposed, and in a whisper, taking her-hand, said-- "No more, mother, if you please! If Captain Porgy knew all thatI I had done, he would'nt be so ready to praise me, I assure you. ' The Partisan half heard the words, and guessed the meaning of the rest; and rejoined good naturedly and sensibly- "Ah! my dear fellow, you are conscious of some mistakes, perhaps; but that is only another proof in your favour. A fool is never aware that he has made any blunders-never! To be conscious that you have done so, is the first proof of wisdom- the necessary process by which to avoid them in'future. You were too quick and rash; too hasty; and fancied you understood THE SOLDIER AND THE LADY. 155 the whole game, when you were only taking the first lessons in it. An error, doubtless; but one, my dear boy, that seems natural to our climate; where one usually dates his manhoodfrom the moment when he instructs his father in what way properly to break his eggs. You will soon get over all your mortifications of this de- scription--too soon, perhaps!" But we do not propose to report the whole of the d'alogue, as it took place between the parties ;--a dialogue, such as can readily be conjectured under the circumstanes, and at the meeting of old friends, after such a long interval of time, occupied by war and its worst vicissitudes. Captain Porgy, himself, not regardless of duty, soon brought the merely amiable in their conversation to a close; though it was, evidently, very grateful to him. It seemed to restore him at once, to the social sphere from which he had so long been an exile. He thus changed the topic- "But we must reserve these matters, Mrs. Eveleigh, for a mo- ment of greater leisure. We must not forget our duties, now.-- The sun wanes, and you have yet to find your way homc. We 'have accounted for all these outlaws, but two; and to do ocirwork thoroughly, we should give an account of them. Two have been slain outright, one br your party, and another by mine; one is even now our prisoner; and the fourth man we have seen making his escape into the swamp, below, where we cannot now hope to hunt him up. There are still two others, somewhere, lurking in the neighbourhood, of whom we must ascertain all that we can within the next two hours, or before dark." "I am somewhat bewildered;" said the lady, "and have suffer- ed so much, from the sun in my eyes, and the cords about my arms, that I may have allowed things to pass under my very sight without being altogether conscious of the fact; but, just before the last skirmish of Mr. Fordham and my son, there were two of them harboured very near the carriage; one on that side," point. ing to the right--" whom I could not see after he first proceeded '-x page: 156-157[View Page 156-157] 156 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. in that quarter; while the other was hidden among these myrtles just in front. Now, I've never seen that last one leave his posi- tion." With a few bounds, as he heard these words, Lance Frampton was at the indicated spot. He stooped-then cried out- "He's here, sure enough; stone-dead with a bullet through his head!" He drew the body out of the bushes as he spoke. "That was your bullet, Master Arthur ;" said Fordham. "And a chance bullet too," replied the ingenuous youth. "I felt so much ashamed at having fired, thinking that I had thrown the shot away!-for I felt that I had taken no aim at all!" "Ah!" said Porgy, "you know not how wonderfully the hand seclnds the eye, and both the will, when there is no time left for' preparation. The best shots are frequently those which are taken when we are so conscious of a purpose, that we are wholly uncon- scious of an aim. If the will is right, the hand and eye obey, as implicitly as the slaves of an Eastern despot!" "I remember the moment that you shot, my son!" said the widow, with a shudder of horror, as the body was drawn out of the bushes. "He rose out of that very clump of grass and myr- tle; swore, and shook his fist at me, and made some horrible threats. It was because I had called out to warn Mr. Fordham, whom I had seen approaching, where they were in conc( alment. I only saw Fordham; but I concluded you were somem here with him, and I trembled at the cunning ambush which they had set. It was all over in a moment. It seemed as if I aeard the outlaw and the shot, all in the very instant when I was speaking." "No doubt," answered Porgy. "There's now only one for whom we cannot account; and of him we may be sure of this- that he will not remain long in a neighbourhood the ,limate of which has been so unfriendly to the health of his people. At all events, Mrs. Eveleigh, it would be only looking through the hay- f TIIE SOLDIER AND THE LADY. 157 stack for the cambric needle, to attempt to hunt him up, at this late hour, and on the edges of this swamp! And ye-,"-looking round upon the derse thickets which indicated the swamp fortres- ses-" poor as I an, I would give the last hundred guineas for a couple of good Scotch blood-hounds, or Spanish, for a single hour! But, the wishis idle. There are, nevertheless, some things within our power, Mrs. Eveleigh, and the first is to get you homewards with all despatch. We must use promptly all the daylight that is left us; and, witE all our efforts, it will be a little in the night before you can possibly get home. Still, there can be no danger now! -Neither of the two rogues whom we shall leas*e running, will be so hardy as ;o attempt any thing new in this quarter; and you will have quite a sufficient escort in your son and Mr. Ford- ham. They have already managed successfully a force of six assailants; they will have no difficulty in managing a couple. But even these two, it is likely, do not hunt together. The one w9 drove into the swamp, took its shelter some-two miles 'elow. The other scoundrel, as last reported, had his perch rather above than below. Be it as it may, you must push on for home, before night, under your escort. You need not fear these rufians, who, even if they had nothing to apprehend from our surerior force, bringing up the wagon and the rear as we propose to do, would never attempt your carriage now, guarded by your son and Ford- ham. Leave me to secure your property, and guard ycur negroes home. The more grateful duty would be to guard ycurself, but the more arduous duty is here. Fordham will now be on his guard against surprise; and, to render you quite safe and sure, I will confide a few pistols to some of your most courageous negroes -your fellow, Sylvester for one. These will suffice. With my party, I will remain, and see to the repair and reloading of your wagon, the horses of which, I perceive, my people have already recaptured. It shall rollow you as soon as ready. But, the sooner you start the better. You have hardly an hour of sun-light left, " page: 158-159[View Page 158-159] 158 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. and the rogue sees better in the night than the honest man, as the owl sees better than the chicken." The widow was quite sensible of this good advice, and prepared for its adoption. Her servants rapidly got her carriage' ready, the traces, where they had been cut, being supplied with plough-lines. The appearance of his own negroes assisting in this duty, reminded our Captain of the, active agency of the widow, in recovering them for him from 'the Blitish hulks-a circumstance of which she had entirely foreborne to speak. "I, too, have my thanks, my dear Mrs. Eveleigh, since, as I learn, but for your keen eye, and fearless spirit, my neg :oes would now be on their way to the British West Indies. But I must take a less hurried moment for making my acknowledgment." - Don't speak of it, my dear Captain; I did only &s a neigh- bour should have done. But, of course, you will acco npany my people to my house. Your own will scarcely give yd a proper shelter just now." "No, thank you a thousand times, but I have some of my old and young soldiers with me " "I have room for all;" said the hospitable widow. "I thank you again; but I must see to these negroes; and--" The Captain paused. The widow fancied there was Siome little embarrassment in his manner. She fancied there was a slight flushing through all the bronze on his cheeks. Mrs. Evoleigh was a woman of good sense and good feeling. Such a peri on always receives an apology-for what it is worth; at l!ast she never disputes it, driving the apologist to the wall, and exposing to himself' the poverty of his excuses. She behaved, accord- ingly in the right manner. She forebore annoying hirl, the mo- ment she discovered him resolved to excuse himself. She took for granted that he had his reasons, proper enough fir himself, which it might not be proper for him to unfold. This was enough. 4 THE SOLDIER AND THE LADY. 159 "As you please, Captain. Remember, from this moment, I take for granted that you will feel yourself always welcome, and at home, at my house. Your old and young soldiers will share this welcome-all whom you commend. Pray believe, in addi- tion, that I shall desire to see you at an early moment. I have much to hear from you, and something to communicate. Why not ride over and dine with me to-morrow, dr the day after, and bring your friends with you?" And very mucL delighted, indeed, to do so, Mrs. Eveleigh, if it be possible. At all events, I shall let you know in due season, if I shall not be able to come to-morrow. Believe me, I have not been living so long in camp as to have quite lost my relish for a good dinner." ' Visit her now," quoth Porgy, turning away to see after the coach and wagon, " with such a beard -mixed grey and brown, salt and pepper-a-d in this travelling gear-a breal under the arm, a rent in -'t And he paused as if at some unmentionable difficulty-then proceeded- "No! no! One pifts on his best favours and front, when he goes to court, even in a republic. This grisly beard!"- Here he stroked his chin reproachfully-literally took himself by the beard-and added- ' Who the devil could have anticipated such an adventure!- That I should have put away my best things in my valise!" He was brought to think of other matters by the approach of his lieutenant. Meanwhile, all were busy.' To gather the negroes and horses' together, repair the harness, and set the coachman once more upon his box, was a task of no great labour with so many hands. Fortunately, the outlaws had left behind them an abundance of plough-line, and there was a bolt of rope in the wagon. The harness was quickly put in strong travelling order, and all ready for a start in a much shorter period of time page: 160-161[View Page 160-161] 160 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. than had been anticipated. The widow, accompanied by her son, Fordham and the servant girl, bade Porgy and his followers a friendly farewell; repeating her thanks to all, and giving separate and warm invitations to each to visit her; which all parties prom- ised. When they were fairly out of sight of the troopers, she call- ed the overseer to the side of the coach. "Mr. Fordham, have you been lately to Captair Porgy's place " "Not later than a month ago, ma'am, or thereabouts. I pass it constantly, you know." "It is all destitute, I think; almost in ruins?" "The house is good, ma'am, wants a little repairing; b it there's not a stick of fence, and- " "Ah! that's not what I mean! Do you suppose he has any provisions there?"? "Not the feather of a chicken, ma'am--not the hair f a hog'! How should he? The niggers eat him out before the tories took 'em off. They left nothing. There may be a few cattle in the swamps, and perhaps hogs; but it's worth more than the;,'d bring to look 'em up." "How then is he to feed all these people?", "God knows, ma'am; it's a wonder to me." "Mr. Fordham, we must take care of him and then for the present. Men who have so long served, and helped to asve, the country, and who haVe so lately served and saved us, mu t not be suffered to want. I'll tell you what you must do." "To be sure, ma'anr.." "When we reach his place, we shall be so nigh our own that there can scarce be any further danger from these outlas. You will, accordingly, stop at Capt. Porgy's, and stop the wagon there also, when it arrives. Knock open the sugar barrel, and leave him a fourth of it; give him a like proportion out of the co;-ee sack. There are, I think, four boxes of candles, leave him one. Put out ! a JUDICIAL DIGNITY IN THE FORESTS. 161 for him, also, a dozen of the blankets, and if you can think of any other matters, that may be useful from among our stores, leave him a like supply. When I get home, I will send him some meal and bacon. Oh! don't forget; to leave him one of the jugs of Jamaica. These soldiers are all fond of spirits, you know." Porgy would- have retorted-"How else should they have spi-. ri1 . ' i - The plethoric old soldier little dreamed, at that moment, what the charities of the amiable widow had decreed for his creature comfort. As little did she conjecture the sort of business which, at the same time, occupied his hands. Let us return to him and note the progress of events. \1 CHAPTER XXIV. JUDICIAL DIGNITY IN THE FORESTS. OUR Captain of Partisans would have gladly undertaken the escort of the widow, had circumstances--in which the condition of his travelling costume must be included-allowed. But he felt, as leader of the party, so suddenly engaged in such an adven- ture as that which followed his encounter with the outlaws, that a serious further duty had devolved upon him; and, however selfish, or luxurious his character might be, it was seldom that he per- mitted his tastes or his love of ease and enjoyment, to thwart the performances to which he was professionally bound. He was a soldier, not less than a bon vivant and gentleman. True, he had been regularly dismissed from duty. He was no longer an officer in command. There was no longer an army. But he had char- acter. He was sure of his own honesty. He felt, and understood, "* page: 162-163[View Page 162-163] 162 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. the lawlessness which prevailed throughout the country; and, in the deficiency of Courts and Sheriffs, he resolved that h3 was still a Captain of militia, and that each militia officer was al interim, in the commission of the peace. The old idea- of regulation waso as much in fashion throughout the country as ever. Ii was now. as much the necessity of the region, as it'had been in the early stages of society when the practice originated. The w ods were filled with outlaws and offenders; and, to await the slow processes of the courts of law, at such a period, and in a country s, sparsely settled, was to sacrifice all the securities of the better so 't of peo- ple, Society, in such cases, always resorts to the necessary means for sustaining law; and the morals of law always will, ai d should, sustain what are the obvious necessities of society. In this you, have the full justification of the code of regulation; a "de which is, no doubt, sometimes subject to abuse, as is the case with law itself, but which is rarely allowed to exist in practice a day longer than is absolutely essential to the common weal. Captain Porgy simply fulfilled the conditions of this code when he reolved on subjecting the captive outlaw to the tender mercies of n extem- pore court of justice, all the members of which had been trained in a severe military school, the rules of which recognised no limits to its own powers, and usually threw upon the accused tLe burden of proof, in establishing his own innocence. The wagon of Mrs. Eveleigh, reloaded, and despatched upon its way, under an, escort composed wholly of the slaves of the widow-several of whom, including John Sylvester, Lad been armed, with the view to its defense, should either of the two outlawsin the woods, be prepared, and in the humour to at- tempt farther mischief-which was held to be scarcely possible ;- our Captain established himself under a goodly oak, plarted him- self comfortably upon a heap of dry leaves at its roots and in- structed Corporal Millhouse to bring the offending outlaw before him., JUIDICIAL DIGNITY IN THE FORESTS. 163 This order was promptly obeyed. His coat off, his arms bound behind him, the outlaw, Norris, was pushed forward by Millhouse, his one hand diligently applying the point of his sword to the fel- low's haunches, whenever he halted or seemed unnecessarily reluc- tant. Norris was sullen and savage both, looked the tiger, and spoke as snappishy as a lean cur over a beggarly bone, with two or three other companion curs, as lean as himself, watching, close at hand, for the opportunity to dart in and bear away the prize. The fellow's case was desperate, and he knew it! He had been taken flagrantd delicto; and he had sufficient experience of law, when administered by a military man, to know that it} was usually a matter singularly decisive and summary in all its processes. He was a hardy ruffian; and, with a gloomy sense of the danger that awaited him, his habitual mood now assumed the appearance of insolence and audacity. But he was in the hands of those who had been accustomed to 'deal with all sorts -of offenders. Porgy awaited his approach with rare patience of demeanour. His: pistols, taken from his holsters, lay before him. His sword, unbelted, but sheathed, crossed his lap. We are constrained to state the farther fact, that our Cap- tain of Partisans, in order to the more easy administration of jus- tice, had unbuttoned:cdat, vest anid small clothes, as far as he pos- sibly could, without actually discarding them; and his appearance was, accordingly, significant of a singular looseness of habit, which, we are pleased to say, did not,.by any means, represent his usual moral character. Let us -dd, also, that the act which gave him this peculiar laxity in dress, was studiously foreborne until the car- riage of the fair widow was quite out of sight. Captain Porgy was one of that good old school, which, where ladies and gentle- men were concerned, was always carefully tender of the proprie- ties. The school is somewhat out of fashion now, and is supposed! to need its apologies; but we have not space enough for them in this place. W . page: 164-165[View Page 164-165] 184 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. Lance Frampton stood a little on one side of the Jidge; but the latter, after the prisoner had been brought up, bad him be seated as one of the Court. Porgy was heedful of all details. "You, Corporal;" said he to Millhouse, " acting as ieriff, will be required to stand. A certain degree of vigilance is necessary always, even when the Court feels itself perfectly secure, Ensign," to Lance-" take your seat more to the left; let the tree be a little between us-where you are now, we might both 'e ranged with a single rifle shot; a fact which might tempt the rascal, yet in the woods, to let drive at us." As this was spoken, the prisoner began to whistle. The sounds were suddenly silenced by a smart blow from the stuntp of Cor- poral Millhouse's game-hand, who well understood the object of the whistle. "Wait with your music till it's called for, my lark;" quoth the vigilant Corporal. The ruffian twitched violently at the chords by which his wrists were fastened, evidently desirous of resenting-the indigx ity; and, failing in this, he plunged his head incontinently into ,he breast of the assailant, with bull-like ferocity. He was not tall enough to address his battering-ram at the face of the Corpo-al, or he might have done mischief to the mazard of the veteran. The latter was taken by surprise; and almost lost his feet, s well as his breath, for a moment; but his huge and well buttressed form was staggered only, not overthrown; and, recovering himself, he dropped his sword, and planted a settler in the nostrils o' the out- law, which laid him out like a log, the blood spurting, in a big stream, from the proboscis of the victim. "Well delivered," quoth 'Porgy; "he will hardly try his horns upon you a second time, Corporal. Help him to rise, boys." This was said to the negroes who hung around, quite delighted with the solemnity of the scene, and the action which- had begun with so much spirit, and which promised to' be so enlivening.- , a i . JUDICIAL DIGNI Y IN THE FORESTS. 165 Pomp, the fiddler, absolutely lost his propriety so far, as to wave his fiddle aloft, while executing a sort of wild-colt movement upon his pins ;-a proceeding which was quickly arrested by an, order of his master, to "box that fellow up, till he's wanted." Pomp sank back demurely enough, and took especial care, during the rest of the scene, to attract no especial attention to himself---Tom, the cook, giving him first a gentle admonition, by a sharp sudden gripe about his weasand. This little episode 'occupied but a few- moments. The outlaw, Norris, half stunned, was raised once more to his feet, the blood still dripping from his nostrils. Capt. Porgy surveyed him very much as the Bow-street Magistrate is said to examine the visages of old offenders; or those whom he thinks so; but he did not fall into the usual habit of that officer, of finding the offender always ill-looking. On the contrary, he had a different theory in such matters. "But that you have spoiled his nose for a time;" quoth Porgy, "the offender would be a good-looking fellow-even handsome, perhaps, stript of his brush, and with a clean shirt on. Is it not curious that these rogues should be so commonly handsome! I don't remember one whom we have had to hang, who wouldn't be accounted quite a pretty fellow among the women! There was that fellow, Bryce,whom we left swinging at Four Holes; he was a fine looking fellow, Lance. And old Echars, the Dutch- man, whom we dressed in tar and feathers at Monk's Corner, for stealing cattle, he; was a beauty, though nearly sixty years of age. You see, my friend, that beauty is a snare! It makes many a poor fellow a rogue! I suppose, because it first makes him a fool! It turns his head, and when the -head's turned, a fellow ceases to be a man, and goes to the devil like a beast. It is the head that keeps a man in position. Let him lose that balance, and he staggers, from right to left, with a sort of moral drunken- ness. Talking of drunkenness, reminds me that a good sup of Jamaica would not be amiss after that little run we'had, Corporal i4 page: 166-167[View Page 166-167] 166 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. Millhouse; but"-with a sigh--" we must now thinl of other matters! A handsome rascal, indeed, but--" addressing the prisoner abruptly-" well, my good fellow, how do you call your- self " Let us leave this examination for a moment, in order that all the parties to the scene should be properly shown up, each in his exact position, to the eye of the reader. Thus far, the whole pro- gress of the affair had been witnessed, though imperfectly, at the distance of two or three hundred yards, more or less, by the out- lying squatter, Bostwick. Perfectly familiar with the g ound and region, he had regulated his own course and movements, entirely by those of the party which he no longer dared to assail. By crawling, and creeping, crouching and winding-by steal ;hy move- ments, like those of the wild cat and fox-by a sinuous progress like that of the serpent-he had wound his way fro-n point to point, wherever he fancied that a good place could be hLd for sur- veying the proceedings of his enemies. In this progress, he omit- ted no precaution, and none suspected how closely they were watched. It was the conviction of Porgy and the rest that the outlaws were completely dispersed; and that, terrified by the exe- cution done among them-the death of no less than three of their number, and the captivity of a fourth-the. two, escaing, had fled incontinently from the dangerous neighbourhood. But Bost- wick had several reasons for lingering upon the ground, even after the chances of profit had wholly disappeared. 'He ha( a fellow- feeling for his captive comrade; and, as he had frequently done before, was prepared to follow the footsteps of his captors, in eager expectation of the moment when their vigilance would so relax, as to enable him to effect his rescuer even at some haza:d to him- self. He was thus far faithful to the bond of brotherhoo 1, which is said to be sacred even among thieves. He was prepared, as we shall see, for other necessities. He was not long permitted to re- main in doubt as to the purposes of Captain Porgy, anl his asso- JUDICIAL DIGNITY IN THE FORESTS. 167 ciates; these, indeed, he readily divined. He naturally conjectured that the policy of the captors, would prompt them to ascertain from the prisoner, all the facts of the expedition-the parties by whom it was set on foot-the persons actually engaged in it; and the motives by which it was prompted. All the proceedings, as already described, confirmed him in his conjectures; and his in- terest and anxiety continued to increase, as he beheld the deliber- ation with which the party commenced the affair. He had got as near to the spot, as he well dared, from that quarter of the woods which afforded him concealment; relying, not less on -the depth of cover which he occupied, than upon the facility with which, in the event of danger, he could glide, unseen, into the re- cesses of the adjacent swamp. Here, he beheld the progress of affairs; saw Porgy let himself down deliberately at the base of the oak; beheld the prisoner brought up; heard the beginning of his whistle, and saw the summary manner in which he had been silenced by the game-hand of Corporal Millhouse. The fierce assault of Norris, by which he had resented the blow; and the severe punishment which he had received in consequence, ad- ded to his excitement; and, but for the madness of such an act, he would have darted in to the succour of his comrade. He fore- bore; but it was with a feverish vexation, which kept him singu- larly fidgetty and restless. Not a syllable could he distinguish of what was said by either of the parties; but he could very well conjecture what .as likely to be said. His disquiet greatly in- creased in consequence of his inability to hear. His interest was by no means an unselfish one. He knew that Norris was a stub- born scoundrel; hardened in sin; callous by repeated infamies; and one whom frequent hair-breadth escapes, had rendered tena- cious of his secret, and more than commonly confident of his good luck in escape. But the Squatter dreaded still, lest tempta- tion and fear combined, should finally get the better of his hardi- hood, and prompt those revelations which must be fatal to his own \ .I page: 168-169[View Page 168-169] 168 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. safety. Could he have heard the proceedings, he would hare been more at ease, even though these should only ten(. to confirm his apprehensions. With'a mood that became momently more and mor 3 desperate, firom the ve'y continuance of his doubts, Bostw'ck bega-n, at lengt'l, to finger the lock of his rifle, scarcely conscious that he was doing so. He could scarcely resist the impulse which prom'Jted him Jo send a bullet through the provoking abdomer of the Captain )f Partisans, now rendered doubly offensive to thel eye, b;r the rem)in val of the usual restraints of button, belt and buckle! At another moment his thought would be to single out, as a vict'm, the ta ], erect and raw-boned figure of the-Corporal, acting a5 Sheriff ;n the proceedings. Could he have got the three, the Captain, En- sign, and Corporal in a range, or even two of -,hem, he had never resisted the temptation! He had, under-these exciting tenden- cies, continued to crawl and creep up within a hundred and thirti yards of the scene of trial, and, at such a distance, wirh a rest, hte had the most perfect faith in his own skill to make his mark, ani the capacity of his rifle to speed the bullet home! The disposition grew, in his mind, to adopt some s lch despei- ate course of action. Hle looked about him, accordingly, with re- gard to the means left him for escape, should he reso:lv to fire.- This examination of the spot which he occupied, led lim. instant ly to change it;-a proceeding which involved, necessarily, some little loss of time. But he moved briskly, as well .a,; stealthily and at length found himsef in a more satisfactory place of con- cealment, and ambush, upon the edge of tae swanp-wher he was' sheltered partly by the .dense- thicket of gall-bushes, co which we have already given some idea. Here, at his back, wer all the facilities for flight, by a sinuous progress, and ]rnder cove all the way. Here, ran a mighty cypress, half buried in water, hidden from View by a wilderness of bushes, growing upon the tussocky ridge on the edge of which it had fallen. Farther on' I JUDICIAL DIGNITY IN THE FORESTS. 169 a clump of bays, or dwarf-laurel, interposed to receive him. Be- yond was a tract of the gall and hurrah bushes, matted by vines, which seemed to enmesh their entire tops; beyond, the places of refuge spread away interminably; forming, even in daylight, an I almost perfect shelter; but, at nightfall, a questionless place of security. This region, which was called "Bear Castle" by the, neighbourhood, was one which he well knew. It yielded- him, comparatively speaking, a perfectly safe mode of retreat, from the point where he established-himself, in the event-of any necessity occurring for sudden flight. Here, he found himself in a place altogether to his liking; one, in which, he might contrive to ob- tain a knowledge of what was going on among the partisans; overlook their proceedings, and interpose if necessary, at the proper moment; yet one which he could leave, at short notice, and without embarrassment, for the deeper recesses of the swamp thicket. "And nowr," said he to himself, ' Dick Norris, it's jist as hell and you chooses! Ef you'ire the man to bold out, I'm the man to help you! You've been in as tight a fix afore now, and you know that I stuck by you then! Set your teeth hard, Dick, and I reckon we can scrape you through!" This was all said, in a whisper, though as if the. person spoken to could hear. Bostwick now appeared more at his ease, was cooler and more composed-; and, satisfied to have gained the re- quired place of watch and safety, not much over a hundred yards from the place of trial, rifle in grasp, and couteau de chasse loosen- ed in his belt, crouching beside a pine which grew upon a bank somewhat raised above the general level, before which stretched a. little forest of gall-bushes and young myrtle, he peered keenly through the vistas of the wood, not losing a single movement among those he watched, while his comrade was undergoing "The Question." 15 page: 170-171[View Page 170-171] 170 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. v/ CHAPTER XXV. RAPID PROCESSES OF EXTEMPORE LAW. "THE Question," verily, in the sense usually given to tie phrase in the times-which the silly world usually calls, '" good old times,--when State tyranny, and the Spanish Inquisition, were in full blast,-to use a vulgar idiom, but a very appropriate fig- ure-did the trial of Norris, by our military court, promise in reality to be. Bostwick well knew the usual practice onl all such occasions. He had some personal experience of "the question" himself. He had, as we have gathered from his words, I een more than once instrumental in rescuing his comrade from its Operation. He did by no means despair, accordingly; but kept I imself in reserve for the chapter of accidents. Our Captain of Partisans very well understood that cne of the outlaws nmight be lurking about, and looking on; but he little dreamed how nigh, or with what purposes in his mind. He was proceeding with singular calmness in the trial, but with a solemni- ty of manner fully proper to the enormous offence of the prisoner. We have heard the inquiry with which he commenced the exami- nation of Norris. It met with no answer. The fellow sullenly stood up, though with half-shut eyes, through which the latent ferocity could be seen still to flash out brightly, and shoiving that, the devil was by no means subdued, though bruised sorely, and in tight bonds. "Hark ye, fellow ;" said Porgy, repeating the question, "do you hear?-by what name are you known among your kindred -who are you ;-and what has prompted you to the conmission of this outlawry? Be civil now--your safety depends somewhat / ;I0 RAPID PROCESSES OF EXTEMPORE LAW. 171 upon your fully unburthening your conscience of all its secrets.- Give an account of yourself to the Court."' "Court! I don't see any Court!" responded the, prisoner, with a mixed air of contempt and defiance. "Ah! you don't, eh! Well, but what if it makes you feel it It strikes me there's something in that! Think better of it, my poor fellow, and answer the Court with a decent sense of its pow- er, if not of its authority." "I'll answer when it suits me! Time enough, when I'm raally before a Court. You're none, I reckon. You're no moie a Jedge than I am." "I'm sorry you think so, my good fellow," said Porgy, mildly: "for your own sake, you'd better come to the conclusion that we are a Court, having the power of life and death.; and prepare your defence accordingly. We give you a fair chance for your life-- Tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, and you don't know what good it will do you-if not in this world, at all events in the next. Confess who set you on this expedition- who were your associates-where do they harbour-what are the names of those who survive Turn State's Evidence as fast as you can, if you would be treated with indulgence." I don't see what you can do with me, but carry me to prison. There's no army! Don't I know that the army is broken up, and all the British gone. And there's no Courts yit; and if there was Courts, you, I reckon, aint no Jedge, and these niggers aint no Jury! You kin only-carry me to jail. That'4 the worst that you kin do; and I aint afeered of any jail I ever seed yit!" And he chuckled, with the feeling of one who had been partic- larly smart, if not severe. "You grieve me, my interesting fellow, by your imperfect knowledge of the law! o I am, at this moment, both Judge and Jury; and my excellent friend, on the right, is my Sheriff, and the executioner of my decrees! These sons of Ethiopia are all page: 172-173[View Page 172-173] 172 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. good men and true, having an abiding sense of authority and ju- tice. You will find them fully capable of uncerstand'ng all the facts in your case; wand I feel myself equally able to expound so them the lw upon it. As for the army, my friend, that is never broken up, so long as there are criminals, like yourself, to He broken in. The good citizens of a country riust always consti- tute a standing army for the purposes of public justice and publ c security. Answer, therefore, as civilly and fully as possible, to the questions I shall put to you, if you would secure for yourself the least indulgence. What may be your name a "I shan't tell you4" was the insolent reply. ("Well, perhaps that is not necessary. It is not nece:ssary that we should, know a man's name in order to hang him. In repor; ,ing our proceedings we shall, doubtless, find a name for you. For the present, we will consider you one John, or Tom, or Peter Ne- mo. Remember, Corporal Millhouse, and you Pomp, and you boys, generally, that the prisoner is called Peter Nemo, ilias Johi Nemo, alias Nebuchadnessar Fish alias "I don't answer to any such names!" "Silence gives consent! You don't answer to any lame, no", it would seem, to any thing! Don't deceive yourself, my pleasing prisoner. I don't care a straw whether you answer or lot. That' just as you please. But we must go througk certain forms, fo your own sake ; and, for the same reason-simply to give yoU every chance-I must put some other questions to yor. I don' want you to answer, if you don't think proper to do so. Who were your confederates, your allies, your associates, in rhis highl way robbery?" "There's no highway robbery." "Sorry that we must differ, my friend, in this matter. You are unfortunate that we found you in the act--in ;he full ocssessio; of the plunder. I am indulgent to you. I will repeat the quest tion--who were your associates in the interesting enterprise ii which I found you engaged?"? - ' RAPID PROCESSES OF EXTEMPORE LAW. 173 i Nobody! Ask me no questions. I shan't answer. Take me to jail, if you choose." "Jail, my friend! Impossible! I don't approve of imprison- ment. It degrades a freeman into the condition of a wild beast. I should think a man of your spirit would prefer death, a thou- : sand times, to incarceration within stone walls, and iron bracelets. No! no! my friend, we will not punish you so cruelly. Your tortures, when your trial is over, shall be short. Who was the ringleader in this expedition?" "Oh! be d-- d! Don't bother me with your axings. 1 aint guine to answer nothing!" "You are irreverent, my poor fellow; you don't know the mis- chief you may do yourself'! Once more, let me know how many persons, and who, were concerned in this enterprise, which you will not allow was highway robbery. Who first set you upon it; who was your leader: and what was your scheme throughout?- Make a clean breast of it, my good fellow, that you may have 'well done' said to you for once in your life." "Ax away, 'tell you're tired. You git no answer from me, old Porpoise!" "The poor, d---d fool!" quoth Millhouse, in a whisper to Lance. "Every word he says is- a-hitching him tighter and tighter!" "That has a salt-water sound!" was' the remark of Porgy, quietly made, but there was a sudden redness about the cheek and gills, as he spoke, that showed him beginning to be'chafed at the outlaw's insolence. He restrained every ebullition of temper, however, in recognition of ,what he held to be the solemn unim- passioned character of his present duty; and continued to put-his questions, in various shapes, until he had exhausted all the proper subjects of inquiry, and afforded the prisoner the fullest opportu- nity to reveal all that he knew. This done, and the answers'being all equally unsatisfactory and insolent, our Captain of Partisans' turned to Corporal Millhouse. 15- page: 174-175[View Page 174-175] 1'74 THE. SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. i Mr. Sheriff, we have given our prisoner every chan e; but he is wedded to his idols and vanities-he rejects every tpportuni;y of mercy! There is a proverb, Mr. Sheriff, ipon wLich we, n the army, are always prompt to act, and the expediency of whici our experience has usually confirmed-' The bird that can sinl, and won't sing'-Eh! you remember, Corporalt-" , "Must be made to swing!" Exactly!" "I've been a-thinking, Cappin, for' a long time, th t you was almost forgitting our army practice. I've beer a-wantng to clap a stopper on the fellow's muzzle ever sence you begun to ax hin the questions." "Ah but a muzzle was not the thing exactly. To make hin unmuzzle, was my object. Well, he would not do s) o pleae us, we must now persuade him to do so to please himsel! Gie him a stretch, Corporal! Appoint a couple of the - tiopian, your Deputies for the occasion, while you act as Provost Marshal, and"-looking above and about him-" there is a good :a'ge hic ory upon the left which seems to have stretched out its arms fdr the very purpose the moment lit-was wanted. Let h-Ir be pel- suaded to that hickory!" Corporal Millhouse seemed to have provide himself with due reference to the exigency. His single remaining hand produced a coil of slender .rope from behind him. A running noose way found in it already; and, calling Pompey from the cowd, the fiddler. was made to take the rope over his shoulder, .ld ascend the hickory.. He stood on one of its outstretching bo:lghs, and? having dropt the cord across the bough, sate quietly awaiting the prisoner. ": You see 1" said Porgy to Norris. The fellow refused to look up, but sate doggedly, witL his heaC stuck on one side, as if with the most rigid determination. "You hear!" continued Porgy. "Be warned, my pd r fellow, RAPID PROCESSES OF EXTEMPORE LAW. 175 and make a free confession. There is no good reason why your tongue should make your throat suffer. Speak freely, and don't make a figure of yourself." No answer! "Let him be persuaded to speak, Mr. Sheriff;" said Porgy, in accents as mild as those of Ali Pacha in his most patriarchal mo- ments. In an instant, and, at a sign from Millhouse, a couple of I the negroes seized upon the prisoner, and, in their stalwart arms, it required but a momnent to conduct him to the designated tree. Another moment sufficed to slip the noose about his neck; this done, the negroes took hold of the rope with alacrity, and, thus in readiness, they looked to the Captain for his further orders. "You feel?" said Porgy to the outlaw. e No answer. "Miy friend," continued the Captain of Partisans, "I would not ruffle a single feather in the wing of so innocent a bird as your- self; but birds must be made to sing at the proper season. Will you sing for us " 1 "No! d---n my liver if I do!" "You have been a lad liver, my poor fellow. Whether you will die as you have lived, is a question for yourself! I give you time. I am, naturally, the most tender-hearted man in the world; buttough rogues mnst i'e made tender also. Confess! I would not be guilty of a cruelty to beast or man; but outlawry must be stopt; and thieving 'and murder are such offences, that indiscreet persons, like ypurself, must be made to forbear them. Open your eyes to your danger, ard empty your bosom of its evil secrets. I will count one dozen, while you meditate what to do. I will count slowly, that you may have time for meditation; but, so sure as I am an honest Judge, and my Sheriff a faithful officer, if, by the time I have said twelve, you do not confess, you ride a nag that blacksmith never yet tried to shoe." And the Captain of Partisans began the tale with well measur- page: 176-177[View Page 176-177] I'76 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. ed deliberation; pausing, between the numbers, the length of a colon at least-" one :" "two :" "three " and so-forL! CHAPTER XXVI. THE APPLICATION OF T THE QUESTION.7q JUSTICE BAFFLED! MEANWHLE, the Squatter, Bostwick, had become qni;e sensible of the danger of his comrade. He could not mistake his situa- tion, or the nature of the experiment-which was about to be tried upon his firmness. Old experience had made him qrite familiar with the whole process. He was very well aware that the pur- pose of the Partisans would not be simply to execute mrnishment upon him, except in degree; and simply to the extent which would ensure the revelation of his secret. But this' was the very danger that he most dreaded. Were they to slay tie prisoner outright, the Squatter would be much less disquiete1. But to force him to speak-to compel him to buy his life by fiving up his comrades-was a danger to hinself, involving ma y dangers, which he could by no means contemplate with sereniy. Agita- ted by various daik and savage feelings; he unconsciouw y advanced several paces from the spot where he had sheltered hirrself. He advanced; but did not forget his caution. His approach was still from cover to cover; his place of concealment bihag always made sure of before taking a single forward step. Bit he again receded-once more crouched into the thicket, and leaned against his tree; the big sweat coursing, in beaded drops, upon his swarthy forehead. But he still kept watch upon is unhappy comrade, and upon the proceedings of his judges. :Spmetimes, I - * s{ t THE APPLICATION OF ' THE QUESTION." 17 he muttered in brief spasmodic soliloquy, as if endeavouring to assure himself, in some such utterances as the following- "Hie will die game! He will not confess! Very well! all's right! Norris was always a tough fellow! He won't give out! I wish I could help him; but that's onpossible! But they won't carry it through! It's only to scare him! He know's that!- He won't leak! He'll keep all close!-Ah!" He again advanced, and a shudder went over his frame. He caught up his rifle, threw it out, and drew it to the range, as if in the act to fire, but, in a moment after, dropt it in the hollow of his arm again, while he murmured- "It's no use! It kin do no good! I might kill one on 'em, easy enough; but that wouldn't save him, and would only resk myself. Better he should die in the rope! Every man has his time. He must die sometime or other. Ef I could help him, wouldn't I? But. I can't! It's onpossibl e, me one, to do anything 1 ! they're at him! The bloody tigers! I know what they're aller!" , . - Meanwhile, at the signal of Millhouse, the culprit was drawn up slowly into the air, His hands were tied behind him. He could offer no resistance. He showed no submission-uttered no en- treaty-'submitted' doggedly to the torture--mpressed with the idea, no doubt, that the party would not proceed to extremities, and that the purpose was to scare him only. He, accordingly, re- mained firm! He bore, without .a groan or struggle, the painful distension of his 'frame, and the stifling pressure of the cord about his throat-his face alternately whitening and reddening, and his breast heaving, with the, voluminous effort of his lungs. Porgy watched the effect with painful feeling. Practice had not indura- ted him, and, though sa;isfied of the outlaw's deserts, and fully sensible of the importance of procuring his confession, and not prepared to quarrel with a process yhich the practice of the army had fully justified-he was yet not insensible to the claims of hu- page: 178-179[View Page 178-179] 178 THE SWOtD AND THE DISTAFF. manity; and was disposed to spare the victim as much as possible. It is indeed,i highly probable, that, as -was the conjecture of the prisoner, himself, and of his ally, the Squatter, our Captain of Partisans did not really meditate any thing beyond the whole- some frighat which would compel the outlaw to disgorge his se- crets. B it the fellow remained obstinately sileLt, and his Judges were disappointed. "Ease him down, Corporal;" was the order o' the Captain. "Now, fellow ;" he continued,-as soon as the criminal had some- what recovered, "are you grown wiser Do you begin to com- prehend your danger? Are you ready to confess " ! The half suffocated wretch answered with curses, andd scorn, and defiance! In fact, from having been let down so son, and having suffered so much less than he had anticipated, or gid even endured before, he had grown more confident of his posiipn, and more insolent accordingly. Porgy replied to him with' rial sym- ,pathy, but-i his own manner. "My poor fellow, you are trifling with your safety. You don't know your danger! Let me warn you. Do not force nMe to the last extremity."' A brutal oath was the only answer. "Hoist away boys ;" cri6d Millhouse, not wai;ing for tie orders of his superior. Again the fellow was haule up--again let down - but with the same result! Porgy began to grow restive under the insolence of the outlaw; who,. evidently suffering, was as insolent after recovering as ever. Time was accorded im, and new exhortations addressed to him. "My poor fellow," said-Porgy, "you must speak now cr never! Your last chance is before you. If you go up again, you only come down to make a- full confession, or you come dowh a dead man! You hear whatI say? I am in earnest! You ha-re shown yourself very much a fool as well as a robber. The time left you for growing wise is very short. The sun is near his setting! THE APPLICATION OF "THE QUESTION." 179 Confess your accomplices, and if we can catch and convict them, by your evidence, we'll get you clear! Show yourself hardened, and you sleep to-night six feet under this tree. You have heard; will you deliver?" "Do your- d dest! I ain't afear'd!" This is quite enough of his answer, which exhibited greater brutality than before. We suppress the oaths with which hegar- nished every sentence. Again, the executioners, at a signal from Millhouse, mutely drew .te fellow up to the tree--this time with a swift motion anda somewhat rapid jerk. Millhouse had served as Provost-Marshal, on other occasions. The outlaw now showed great distress. It was seen that his hands worked-opened and shut-as if giving signs; then he kicked desperately. His gasp- ing, atl length, grew into sounds. like speech, and the party below at once understood the half-stifled assurance that he would confess, if let down. Theb miserable wretch succumbed the moment he be- gan to fear that his Judge was in earnest. His sufferings were of a sort to induce this change in his opinions. He could not have borne them much longer and lived. He was already black in the face, and his eyes seemed starting from their sockets. Por- gy had already thwarted his own policy in the premature yieldings which-he had shown. He was evidently unwilling to urge the torture beyond the degree necessary for his object. He had tried to maintain his apparent calmness-it was a matter of pride with him that he should do so; but he was not always successful; and now, as he witnessed the sufferings of the outlaw, he cried out quickly to Millhouse- "Let him down, Corporal! For God's sake, let him down!" Millhouse hesitated, and ventured to expostulate.- "He's a mighty tough rascal, Cappin! 'Taint 'tell the life gits a'most clean out of. the body of such a rascal, that the honesty gits in! Don't be too easy with him, or we'll have to do it all over again." page: 180-181[View Page 180-181] 180- [THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. "Let himn down, I say, Corporal!" "Very well; it's jest as you say. One thing' sartin. e's had a leetle bit of a warning this time ;-jest a s6rt of idee o fi whats the raal state of the argyment. He feels it too! He's not guine to crow agin to-day, and when a rogue stops to crow, hhy, you may look foi: him to sing as you want him " Millhouse was a- tough customer even as a so dier. I hile he soliloquized, he motioned the negroes to let tlre outlaw descend slowly. When the felldw reached the ground, ad the ope was relaxed, he sank down upon the earth exhausted; though iQparent- ly striving to speak. Lance Frampton promptly clapt a Bottle to his mouth. "Why, Lance, what's that " inquired Porgy, with a n ew inter- est in the transaction. The youth sightly laughed. "Jamaica, Captain." "Jamaica! -Where did if come from?' "The wagon, sir! t This lark had been long! enough in it, to knock the bung out of a keg, and try the liquor. It Was open when they went to-load the wagon, and Toby, filled a Bottle or two for us, thinking it might help us in sickness; or-- "Ah! rascal, and you heard me sighing for this very stuff af- ter our fatiguing services, and never gave signs of life!" This was-said very reproachfully. 4 : I knew the sort of work to be done, Captain, and di n't know whether we ought to do any drinking in camp! while ti le enemy was about us in the woods." r ' You were right, boy! Many's the good felow that lost his scalp from taking too much heed to his swallow. Iiat I am not the person, as you should know, to err thus-and i was al- most fainting." - t"Yes, sir, but -if you had seen the bottle, the Cor] )ral and Tom, sir, would- have seen it too, and---- i "Git out, you impartinent!" quoth Millhousei interruIting him, THE APPLIC TION OF "THE QUESTION." 181 with a slight kick "ad don't be choking him with an over- dose," He pushed him away lfrom Norris as he spoke. The outlaw, meanwhile, had been made to swallow a few mouthfuls of the Jamaica, which had somewhat recovered him; though he looked about him vacantly, with blood-shot eyes, and seemed still very i much stupified. Porgy was disposed to be indulgent, and pre- pared to wait on the fellow for his revelations; ;but Corporal Mill- house thought this was altogether a mistaken pity. He looked out impatiently into the west, where the sun, himself no longer visible, was glinting the forests tops with faint horizontal fires. "I'm a-thinking, Cappin, we hai'nt got too much time to be waisting on this here rapscallion! Ef he's got to speak, let him speak! EHe kin make thei music, or he kaint! Another h'ist will bring it out of him, I reckon. We've got a good eight miles to ide, and we'll be in the night." Porgy looked at the outlaw forbearingly. The fellow had evi- dently suffered a good deal, and was still suffering; though his glances showed that he had fully understood all that had been said, and was not now insensible to his danger. He felt--that Mill- house, at all-events, a hard old soldier, was in downright earnest; and he might reasonably conclude that his suggestion would, in the end, influence the decision of his superior. "It will not need many words;" said Porgy.. 'We can 'ride in the night, Corporal, I think. We've done it a thousand times before, in worse weather, and with home much farther off. Nay, with no home at all to go to! Give the poor devil a chance to recover. We may have to hang him after all. But I hope not. He has had a strong taste of the tree, that last trial; and has probably come to his senses. Give him, the needful time to get his wits together. When he does speak, it is only to answer some half-dozen questions, which will hardly need as many sentences. Meanwhile, let some of the boys be getting our horses ready." 16 page: 182-183[View Page 182-183] 182 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. Ensign Frampton gave the necessary orders, and two or three of the negroes proceeded to this duty. The horses captured from the outlaws were among the objects of their care. I While they were thus employed, and Porgy and his companions Baiting, with more or less impatience, upon the slowly recovering outlaw, how did the Squatter, Bostwick, employ himself? His interest in the progress of the affair, we may be sure, has undergone no di- minution. The proceedings, which we have thus far etailed, were all as evident to his understanding as they were apparent to his sight. He had beheld the sufferings of Norris, with feelings for which he could not easily find words; not pity exactly-the sentiment was one not likely to penetrate his bosom-b-it grati- tude perhaps; at all events, with a conviction that the degree of endurance which-the outlaw was required to show, was quite as important to his safety-though more remotely-as to that of the sufferer himself. Anxiety, the more predominant feeling, was nat. urally mixed up, accordingly, with a certain annoying sense of self-reproach, which gave bitterness to h's moods, and made him eager to be doing something which might employ his rage against the persecutors of his colleague. This sort of feeling,:of mixed anxietyand rage, changedto abso- lute terror when he saw the culprit let down from the tree for the first time. Had he then consented to reveal his secret? Was he already frightened from his propriety? Beyond the torture of the process, Bostwick readily persuaded himself that therp was no real danger to the victim. He had seen, from. the slow and grad- ual manner in which the executioners worked, that thel purpose was neither to strangle him nor to break his neck! 5When let down, accordingly, he rationally conjectured that this was done, only to receive his confession. Such a conviction naturally filled his soll with fear. His brain throbbed. He advanced nervusly, some ten steps nearer, with the most desperate impulses; but paused--relieved, in some degree, when he saw the executioner Cog THE APPLICATION OF THE QUESTION?' 183 resume his cruel toils, and saw the culprit reascending. But his fears were aroused anew, when, a second time, he saw him let down to the earth. A new relief was brought him, when, a third time, he beheld the strtggling figure of his comrade, depending in empty air. The selfish nature of the ruffian actually rejoiced. in the sufferings, so well endured, of the miserable wretch, as they seemed to promise him security for his secrets-as they tes- tified to the hardened courage of the sufferer, and seemed to de- clare his determination to suffer the 1 ast extremities rather than betray his pledges, even to associates so unworthy of such fidelity. He could value this virtue in another, as it told for his own securi- ty. With a husky chuckle, he kept repeating to himself as he beheld the spectacle-- "Oh! he's all flint and iron! He's close as an oyster! You can't prize his jaws open. and makehs tongue wag, however you kin fix it! Norris is a glorious chap. He's true blue! I've al- ways know'd him for a man! He'll die game! with a stiff upper lip! Poor Dick! Ef I could only help you, wouldn't you see the fur fly!" Then, as he beheld the dangling figure again going up, he al- most cried aloud- "Hold on awhile longer, Dick! Hold on, and they'll hev' to give it up! Shet (shut) your teeth fast, Dick ;--jes' stand to it now, this one time, and ;hey'll let you off. It's only to scare the truth out of you; but dbn't be scared; and I'm here to save you at the right time." And, as if his comrac e could hear every syllable he said, he proceeded with whispered assurances of succour. "They'll carry you off to Porgy's house, and I'll follow. They ain't got no lock up. I'll be close ahind them. I'll watch the proper chance for cutting in, and geting you out. It's only a sharp eye, and a light foot, ard a bold heart, and a keen knife, and, maybe, a quick bullet, and we kin git you out of the hands of / page: 184-185[View Page 184-185] 184 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. any one they puts to watch over you; and I'm here, a free man still to help you, Di4c, and you knows me, Dick-youj knows Bostwick-he never desarts a friend so long as life's inhim. Close, Dick, and don'tyou be scared!" And all this, though spoken in a whisper, or at most a murmur, was accompanied with a restless, eager action, as if every Syllable could reach the ears of the victim, and every movement of the speaker was apparent to his eyes. The encouragement thus spoken was really meant to reassure himself. For a moment, although the sweat covered his face and neck, it seemed to have the effect. His manner became calmer-his eye more steady, and with even step he stole back to the sheltering place from which he had ad- vanced. But when, the third time, he beheld the culprit swing aloft- when the distress of the victim was observed to be greater than before-when his hands were seen to work and twist, even in their gyves, and the legs were convulsively thrown out with spasmodic action-and the forms below were observed to be more than usu- ally attentive, while the extended hand o' Porgy, seemed to pro- mise indulgent mercy; and when, a moment after, the outlaw was let down suddenly, supported tenderly beneath the tree, and liquor brought to refresh him: then, the apprehensions of the Squat- ter obtained full ascendancy. He then knew all his danger. He felt that the revelation was about to be made. He understood the terms of mercy. He saw that the prisoner was let down, and these attentions shown him, only because of his promise of con- fession; and though, from the spot where he stood, he heard not a word that was spoken, he yet understood the new relations of the parties, as. thoroughly as if himselV one of the nearest by- standers. His opinion of his comrade changed instantly from the favourable one which he had so recently expressed. "The mean, miserable skunk!" he exclaimed. "He couldn't grin and keep it in, like a man! Ef I was only nigh him jes' to THE APPLICATION OF sTHE QUESTION." 185 drive my knife into his jaws! The poor, mean, cowardly beast, wish no more sperrit than a spider! But he mus'nt tell!' Lord G--d! he mus'nt tell! He mustshet up forever. Ef he speaks, I'm gone! Let me see. They've lifted him agin! Thar he stands up afore the inimy. I could put a bullet through the jack-; et of either of them; but what's the use? I could kill ore of 'em, I reckon; but that vkould'nt help him I The niggers is there, and they've got we'pons too; and, with the other two white men, they'd soon be upon him, and finish him. They'd be upon me, too; but"-looking around him-"I reckon 'twould be a cold trail they'd have a'ter me! I could soon put swamp enough a-tween us to laugh at all their s'arching. - What's to be done 7 It must be done! Lord ha' mercy upon you, Dick Norris-you're a most bloody fool! But et you're coward enough to blab, I ain't fool enough to let you, ef I kin help it." The Squatter now advanced a few paces. He moved confident- ly, as if his policy had been fully determined upon. He surveyed his ground very narrowly-saw that he had space for a run-cal- culated nicely the distance of the swamp thicket-=-the proximity of the cypress tree-the Shelters, severally, of the gall and hurrah bushes; and then, deliberately, wiped the perspiration from his brows with his sleeve. His head was stretched forward, as if, at the distance of a hundred yards, or more, he could hear anything that was spoken; and, in this attitude, he appeared to listen. He seemed certainly disposed to wait awhile, on the proceedings of the partisans. Meanwhile, the outlaw, Norris, was recovering. "You feel easier now, my good fellow," said Porgy; "and we've given you every indulgence. You've had time enough.- Tell your story now; say who are your accomplices ; who set you on this expedition, and what were its precise objects. A clean breast of it, my man, if you would hope for mercy; or you are run up for the last time!" 16' i page: 186-187[View Page 186-187] 1386 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. I'll tell you all ;" said Norris, utterly broken down. 'a Good!" answered Porgy. "The sooner you set about it the better; for, though really willing to wait upon you, and be as in- dulgent as possible, time won't suffer it. We can't afford to lose the daylight-we must ride." "Well, I'lltell you;" began the outlaw. "There was six of us, you must know. We was got together in Charleston for this-" Here he stopt suddenly-perforce. He was not permitted an- other syllable-arrested, at the very opening of his revelations by a stroke, as if from the very bolt of fate. A rifle bullet was in his brain! The report of :the rifle, and the effect of the shot, were one! - The victim was falling, forward, among the group of listen- ers, at the very moment when the report of the gun was heard,- The bullet was aimed with the truest skill. It had bored its way through the forehead, a little over the eyes, the region above both of which it completely traversed. The miserable wretch was dead before he fell! A moment after, and Bostwick wheeled about for the swamp. He had but few words more of soliloquy. "It had to be done, Dick Norris! Ef you had to speak for your life, I had to stop you for mine! I would ha' saved you, but you would'nt let me! I'm mighty sorry, but it had to be done!" The swamp thicket received him a moment after. CHAPTER XXVII. HOW THE FOX DOUBLES, WHLE THE HOUNDS PURSUE. IT wuld be much more easy to imagine, than to describe the confusion which ensued among our partisans and their followers, HOW THE FOX DOUBLES. 1 87 by this unexpected catastrophe within their circle. For a moment all seemed paralyzed. The event was so strange, so startling, and so utterly unaccountable, particularly supposing it to be the act of one of the outlaws. Porgy was the first to recover, and to conceive the motive for the murder by the fellow's colleague. He started up and cried aloud- "One hundred guineas to him who shall take the murderer alive!" One hundred guineas! Our Captain of Partisans was a person of most magnificent ideas. Porgy had not, himself, seen such an amount of cash, in one heap, during the last seven years! We have already been advised of the very moderate amount in guin- eas which he bore away with him at the disbanding of the army But our Captain always spoke in round numbers, such as could roll off -trippingly from the tongue. He might have been good for five guineas, and no doubt he would have given this number, cheerfully, though it drained him of every copper that he had; but a hundred! He laughed the moment after, at the audacity of his own imagination. But it did not need any reward, so soon as the party had suffi- ciently recovered their faculties, to stimulate their pursuit of the murderer. But there was a decided pause, for a brief space after the event. The negroes, at first, were terribly alarmed; some crouched closely to the earth, while others were disposed to scatter themselves in flight. All but Tom, the cook, who was an old sold- ier, and Pomp, the fiddler, who, flattered by recent distinctions, was ambitious to prove himself a young one-were utterly para- lyzed by their terrors. A gulph, opening suddenly beneath their feet, could not have more suddenly swallowed up their courage than did the unexpected bullet of Bostwick. But, with the voice of Porgy they looked up. Its clear, trumpet tones cheered them, and satisfied them that they were not all slain. He rose to his feet, with surprising agility, as he cried alod, and found his Lieu- page: 188-189[View Page 188-189] 188 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. tenant, Lance Frampton, already on the alert; while Corporal Millhouse, without a word, after giving a single glance to the stif- fening body of the outlaw, proceeded, at monstrous long strides, in the direction whence came -the bullet of the living one. Tom, the cook, and Pomp, the fiddler, both caught up weapons and darted after Millhouse. Frampton dashed off, also, pursuing anoth- er route. The negroes, now, generally, encouraged by these de- monstrations, took heart and followed in pursuit and search. They were all more or less provided with weapons which had been taken from 'the outlaws. "Scatter yourselves, boys, scatter if you would search and be safe "ly was the cry of Porgy.- He, too, was in motion, with an agility really astonishing in his case. He caught up sword and pistols in the twinkling of an eye, and started off, at a moderate trot, to gain the tree, where his horse-that which he had taken from one of the slain outlaws-was fastened to a swinging limb. But he was not destined to -reach it so easily; or in so short a space of time, as he had allotted himself. He had forgotten certain em- barrassments in his own case-forgotten that he had, in order to the more easy administration of justice, ungirthed, and unbutton- ed himself, when taking his seat under the royal oak. He was suddenly restored to recollection, on this subject, and brought to an abrupt stand, by feeling himself fettered, with his nether gar- ments clinging about his legs. The circumstances in which he found himself, were utterly indescribable, but it will not be diffi- cult to conjecture them. He was only brought to a full-conscious- ness of his embarrassment, by nearly measuring his full length upon the ground. What a devil of a fix!" quoth he, soliloquizing. "Were I now to hear the cry which aroused the Hebrew wrestler-' The Philistines are upon thee, Samson!' what should I do - I should be shot, and sabred, and scalped,- before I could steady my legs for decently Jfaling to the ground! I should go over in a HOW THE FOX DOUBLES. 189 heap like a bushel of terrapins! And what a figure I should make upon the earth! How dreadfully exposed ! A most shame- ful condition for ' man and soldier !'" And thus speaking, hel deliberately laid down sword and pis- tols, and, looking about him cautiously, proceeded to draw up his inexpressibles, and to button, and belt up--a performance less easy than necessary. "It's well the war is over ." quoth he, as he laboured to con- tract his waistbands over his enormous waste of waist, and to bring the strap and buckle of his belt to bear. " am nolonger fit for war. It's wonderful that I've escaped so long and so well ! With such a territory to take care of, it's perfectly surprising there have been so few trespassers ! I could not always have kept them off! They would have overcome me at last! They might have caught me at some such awkward moment, in some such awk- ward fix, as the present! Ah! There! It is done at last! The wilderness is under fence at last!" And he breathed, long and heavily, after such severe exertion ! But he wasted no more time than was necessary. Porgy was no loiterer when duty was to be done. He skulked no task, skirked no obligations; and Iience his greater merit, inclining, naturally, as he did, to the creature comforts, and a selfish desire for repose and luxury. He now reached his horse, and mounted in a few moments. He was a good horseman. It was much easier to raise than to lower himself-easier to get into the saddle, than to subside upon hjs leafy couch on the earth. Once in the saddle, he was a hard rider! The steed that carried him had a-great deal to bear beside his weight. He used the spur freely, and was nev- er more liberal in its use than now, when required to make up for lost time. Headlong, he drove into the thick cover of the forest, and for the swamp-fastnesses, where the outlaw, Bostwick, had taken refuge. Here, our Partisan Captain was soon found, mak- ing his way over log and through bog, in mire and water, through page: 190-191[View Page 190-191] 190 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. close thicket and tangled vine, in a wilderness from which the light\ was disappearing fast; and as far as horse could well go, where a career on horseback must be very soon arrested. The pursuit was hotly urged. It was well that Bostwick had made his calculations so cunningly, and taken such deliberate pre- cautions. He had to deal with old " swamp-suckers'"--hunters as keen and familiar with such places as himself. Had they been as well acquainted with this particular locality, he had never escaped. Nay, had there been one hour more of sunlight, his chances would have been very doubtful. As Porgy phrased it-- "But once inch of candle more, and we should have his hide." As it was, the outlaw was more than once caught sight of in the chase. Millhouse once detected him, as a half-floating log turned with him in the water. Pompey cried out that he was going through the gall bushes in front; and Lance Frampton got a clear view of him, at long distance, crossing a tussock. He gave him both pistols as he sped-" bang! bang!" with scarce an in- terval between the the two shots; but, at each fire, Bostwick was seen to duck his head instinctively; and, at length, he disappeared in a pond, rising up on the opposite side, amidst a heap of drift wood. Here he paused, with his nose just out of water, and lay still, as he thought he lay unseen. And he was in a place of safe- ty. Night had come to his relief. He couldhear the cries of his pursuers, but could no longer see them, and he felt that he was secure. It only required that he should keep still. The sounds of pursuit finally ceased; his enemies had all disappeared; and, like a great Newfoundland dog, shivering all over, he raised him- self out of the alligator hole which had harboured him, and stood, savage and gloomy, upon the neighbouring bank; the owl hoot- ing overhead from the blasted cypress, and the sad stars coming out, one by one, and looking down like so many mysterious senti- nels in Heaven, watchers over the guilty course of man on earth. Bostwick shivered, as he looked up, with superstition as well as HOW THE FOX DOUBLES. 191 cold. He had ce tainly, that day, ireceived a fearfullesson of the vicissitudes and terrors which wait upon evil deeds! The way of the transgressor is ndeed hard! His comrades gone; not one to be seen! How many of the five who had set out with him on this expedition, now br athed the air of life with him? He knew not, then, of one! HJ had been baffled in the purpose he had in view. Had lost e ery thing-even his rifle, which, in the hotness of the pursuit, he had been compelled to cast away. But one thing he had saved-the box of the widow Eveleigh, containing the fifty guineas, and the papers which McKewn so much desired! He had concealed this box in a hiding place in the swamp above, which he had no fear would be discovered. There was consola- tion in the iecollection of those fifty guineas. He had other con- solations when he thought of the papers and McKewn! For the latter, his present situation filled him with new bitterness. "D .-n him!' he muttered to himself. "He shall pay well for them afore he its them! He shall make up to me all my los- ses! He shall pa for these poor fellows, and'what they suffered. There will be a s eet bill of it, which he shall foot up every shil- ling, or there shall be no peace for him on this airth P Let us leave hi , cowering and cursing in theswamp, and re- turn to the partis ns. They gaye up the chase only when they found it no longer possible to see. Lance Frampton picked up, and brought in, the outlaw's rifle, which they all examined closely, in the hopes to identify it; but they had none of them seen it be- fore in any hands. Three letters, evidently initials of a former owner's name, were cut rudely in the stock. "M. T. C." "Marcus Tullius Cicero!" quoth Porgy, very gravely. "Who, Captain I never heard the name! Do you know him?" was the simple inquiry of the Lieutenant. "I ought to; fcr I received many a flogging, when a boy, that I might become i atimate with him, and the old fellows he kept page: 192-193[View Page 192-193] 192 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. company with. And you may be sure the flogging dicd not make me love him or them any better i But Idoubt if either Marcus or his companions owned this rifle. If they did, then the histo- rians have suppressed many an interesting fact in science. But, let us push out of this wilderness, Lance, and get into the open road.: Corporal, see to the negroes, and send them on ahead.- Let them get wood and have fire for us at least, when we reach home. It is getting monstrous chilly! Yes-we shall need a fire, even more than supper!" Supper, indeed I thought Porgy. It was his philosophy only which preferred the fire. Obedience was now pleasure. The whole party was well tired of the fruitless pursuit, and all began to feel the chilliness of which the Captain complained-and the hunger also. "See that the negroes cover the dead bodies with leaves, Lance, until to-morrow, when we must borrow shovels from Mrs. Eveleigh, and have them buried. The buzzard and wild cat will hardly find them in one night." CHAPTER XXVIII. THE OLD SOLDIER RETURNS TO A RUINED HOMESTEAD. ALL was done as had been commanded. Tom's world of kitch- en and camp baggage, was fairly divided among the negroes, all of whom were now mounted on the captured horses of the out- laws, some of them riding double. The dead bodies were hidden away beneath the forest leaves and branches, as closely as it could possibly be done. - The odds and ends of the party were carefully THE OLD SOLDIER RETURNS TO A RUINED HOMESTEAD. 193 picked up; not a tin pan suffered to escape inquiry; and, under the growing starlight, the negroes took up the line of march, as a sort of advance, with Tom, the cook, for guide and leader; Porgy, Frampton, and Millhouselfollowing at a less rapid pace. Of these three, the two latter were suffered to lead the Way, our Captain of Partisans seeming disposed to linger in a manner that surprised Millhouse, who made it a subject of comment to his companion. Frampton, through the sympathies which-he entertainedfor his superior, could wel- understand the reason of his apparent apathy. Without much logic or knowledge-without being much a stu- dent of human nature-the genial temper of Frampton had taught him to conjecture the peculiar mood which now troubled the Partisan. Besides, he had been enlightened measurably, that day, on the subject of Porgy's secret cares, by the long conversa- tion between them which has been already reported, and, through which, the Lieutenant had found clues to the Captain's nature and difficulties, such as his buoyant temper had never' before suffered him to betray. That the latter should now hesitate-now that he was almost at his own threshold-did not greatly surprise the youth, and reawakened all his sympathies for his chief. He might well linger on the route, loath to approach scenes so precious once, so full of dear recollections, but now so full of gloomy aspects and discouraging arguries. From Porgy's own description, there could be no prospect half so cheerless as that of the ancient homestead which was about to receive him. Memory and thought might well be painfully busy in his mind. The one recalled a past which was full of sunshine and promise. The other reproached him with a profligacy which had measurably cast fortune from his arms; and bitterly rehearsed the recent history, in which events seemed to have studiously aided to consummate the ruin which his own erring youth had begun. The journey, from the Camp of Ma- rion, at the head of Cooper river, and which was now to termi- nate upon the Ashepoo, had afforded prospects, all along the route, page: 194-195[View Page 194-195] 194 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. well calculated to give the gloomiest colour to the mind of the observer. Of this journey, :we cannot afford abetter idea than to copy from .Moutfie's memoirs, a few passages descriptive of whathe saw, in la neighbouring district of country, about the same period-in fact, the preceding summer-on his own return to his estates, which had suffered in like manner with most others. "Soon after my being. exchanged," writes the old General, "I prepared to set off, with my family, for South Carolina, and, early in April, left Philadelphia, and arrived at -Waccamaw, in South Carolina; where! I was informed that General Greene's ;arriy lay at Ashey river, quite inactive, and no military operations going on. I remained at Winiyaw till late in September, at which time I paid a visit to iGeneral Greene. It was the most dull, melan- choly, dreary ride that any one could possibly take, of about one hundred miles, through the woods of that country, which I had been accustomed to see- abound with live stock, and wild fowl of every kind. It was now destitute of all. It had been so com- pletely chequered by the different armies, that, not a part of it had been left unexplored; consequently, not a vestige of horses, cattle, hogs or deer, &c., was to be found. The squirrels and birds of every kind were totally destroyed. The dragoons told me, that, 'on their scouts, no living creature was to be seen, except a few camp-scavengers, (turkey-buzzards) picking the bones of some unfortunate fellows, who had been cut or shot down, and left in the woods above ground..... My plantation I found to be a desolate place; stock of every kind taken off; the furniture car- ried away, and, my estate had been under sequestration." This individual picture was equally true of all the country; and the condition of Moultries estate, that of every man who had dis- tinguished himself on either side, whether for, or against the revo- lutionary struggle. - ery many had fared even worse-their ne- groes being wholly carried off, and their dwellings destroyed by fire, Though but a Captain in the brigade of Marion, Porgy had i e THE OLD SOLDIER RETURNS TO A RUINED HOMESTEAD. 195 been honoured by a fair share of British hostility. - His home, he knew, had escaped the torch of the incendiary, but his negroes had been stolen, and the plantation utterly laid waste. We have already seen what special additional causes-of anxiety were at work to make him moody.- Debt hung-upon his fortunes like an incubus; and he possessed no conscious resources, within him- self, by Which to restore his property, or even to acquire the-means of life. He rode forward, gloomy and comfortless, in spite of all his philosophy, scarcely exchanging a word with his companions. Meanwhile, his negroes, under Tom's guidance, eager once more to regain their old homes, sped on, at a smart canter, which soon left their superiors behind. It was' after ten o'clock at night, when the lights from a score of wild, gleaming torches, waving in air, announced the approach to the avenue of "Glen-Eberly," which was the name of Porgy's ancient homestead-so named after a goodly grandmother by whom it had been entailed on her broth- er's children. Our Captain of Partisans-was aroused to a con- sciousness of external things, by the loud shouts of the negroes who had preceded him, and who now hailed his approach after a fash- ion such as Moultrie describes in the same narrative from which we have already quoted. - "T'ank de Lord, here's maussa git to he own home at last!- Bress de' Lord, Maussa, you come! We all'berry glad for see you, maussa-glad too much!"' And the same negroes who had been with him for several hours before, without so much as taking his hand, now rushed up and seized it, with loud cries, as if they were hosts, and welcoming a favourite guest. The tears stood in the-eyes of our Capta'n, though he suffered none of his companions to behold them; and he shook hands with, and spoke to them each in turn-few words, indeed, but they were uttered tremulously, and in low tones.. Fordham, the overseer of Mrs. Eveleigh, now made his appear- ance from' the house. The wagon had departed, having left the. page: 196-197[View Page 196-197] THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. "I ULw supplies as the good widow had ordered. Porgy entered his house expecting to find it empty and cheerless. He was confounded to see the goods, blankets, drink, provisions, all around the hall, and shown to the best advantage under the ruddy gleams of a rousing fire in the chimney. ' Ah!" said he, "Fordham, Mrs. Eveleigh is-a very noble lady. Make her .my best respects and thanks. I shall soon ride over and make them in person." "Well, my friends ;" said he to Frampton and Millhouse; when Fordham had departed "I felt doubtful how to provide you your supper to-night; though, knowing this excellent lady as I did, I should not-have doubted that she would contribute largely to it. See what she has done! Here are sugar and coffee; here are meal and bacon here is a cheese; here-but look about you, and say what we shall have for supper. Supper we must have! I am famishing. Tom! Tom! where the-d 1 is that fellow! Does he think that he's free of me, because he's free of the army?- om Tom Tom!" "Sah! yer, maussa! Wha' de debbil mek' (makes) you hol- ler so loud, maussa, when I's jis' (just) at you elbow? You t'ink I hard o' hearing, 'cause I got hard maussa, I 'spose!" "Hard mauss, youimpertinent scamp! Another master would have roasted you alive long before this. See, and let us have some- thing, in the twinkling of an eye. Look among these provisions, that Mrs. Eveleigh has sent us, and take out enough to give us all a good feed-niggers and all!" "Miss Ebleigh! He's a bressed (blessed) woman, for sartin, for senr we all sich good t'ings; de berry t'ings we bin want; and jis' when we. wait 'em. He's a mos' 'spectable pusson, is dat Mrs. Ebleigh. Ki! Here'sa'mos' (almost) ebbry t'ingfor gempleman supper! Kah, me!dis dah cheese, in dis tub! Pomp, you son ob a snail! whay you day? Yer! (here) open dem bundle wha' b'long to me, in de piazza! bring fanner, (a shallow winnowing THE OLD SOLDIER RETURNS TO A RUINED HOMESTEAD. 197 basket) and bring bucket you will see day (there). Hab out de t'ree knife and de four fork, for maussa, when he got comp'- ny. See a'ter de hom'ny pot; and de coffee pot; and look up some water for wash dem! Dere's no kitchen, maussa; he all bu'n down. We hab for cook de supper in de house, yer, or, maybe, we kin find fire-place down stairs in de brick part. Go see, Pomp-and Pomp, sen' out some of dem nigger for git light- wood, and bring water and de udder t'ings." We allow Tom to be thus prolix, not simply because he was so permitted by his master, but as he gives us 'a very correct idea of the condition of household affairs. The kitchen, as he states, was destroyed; the cooking was finally decreed to be carried on in the brick basement of the house hereafter, but, for this night, Tom made free with 'the fireplace of the salle a 'manger.- The house was an ample one, of wood, on a brick basement.- But it had been completely gutted. There was neither table nor chair; and our friends couched themselves upon the-blankets of Mrs. Eveleigh, spread about the fireplace; and, accustomed as they had been to still harder, if not humbler seats, upon the naked ground, were not seriously conscious of any privations. Thus sitting, or recli- ning, they waited in comparative silence the preparations which: Tom was making for supper. That sable kitchen-despot had found employment for all the negroes, Pompey acting as a sort of lieu- tenant or orderly. Water and wood, in any quantity, were soon provided. Soon, the hominy was set to boil; the coffee-pot be- gan to smoke; while the " hoe" and "johnny" cakes, spread upon' sections of barrel heads, four or five in number, were seen facing the now brightly blazing fire. The chimney-place of the dining- room, though not quite so ample as that of a Southern plantation kitchen, was yet one of sufficiently large dimensions. What with the hominy and coffee pots, the bread stuffs, and the frying-pan, hissing with broad but tender slices of ham-which the fork of the Grand Cuisinier shifted from side to side, as the occasion seemed to 17* page: 198-199[View Page 198-199] 198 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. require-there was little space left in the premises, and no room suf- fered near them for mere idlers: in which rank, at this moment, we may consider the Captain, himself, and his two companions in arms. But the fire was sufficient to warm the room, the shutters being closed in, though there was not a pane of glass left-in one of the sashes. If the whites of the group were silent, Tom was not.-- The benefactions of Mrs. Eveleigh afforded him an ample theme for talk; and, while heestirred the hominy, and turned the ham A and the hoe cakes, and pushed up the fire-keeping Pompey busy all the while-he maintained a running commentary. on the bles- sings of life in the neighbouthood of such an excellent woman- a woman so well conversant with her duties to her neighbours. "Dis is fus' (first) rate new bacon, maussa, dat Miss Ebleigh bin sen' we! And de grits (grist) is de bes' flint; an' dis flour is white like snow; and sich a bowl of coffee, as I guine gib you to- night, wid sich sugar; you ain't bin see dis fibe, t'ree, seben years, maussa! Lord be praise, for all he massies! When I bin riding 'long yer to-night, coming to we ole home, I bin say to myself, all 'long de way, wha' de debbil we guine fin' home yer for supper to-night! Entyl know, dem d- --n British and Tory bin skin de plantation ob ebbry t'ing? HaL\! I say, der' will be heap o' growling 'tomachs yer to-night! I 4n' I t'nk of de cole (cold) and de starbatlon, 'till I begin to shibber all ober like new sodger, jis when de inimy begin for shoot!' But, de Lord be praise I Der's no cole, ders no 'tarbation! Yer's ebbry t'ing for las' we niggers, and you gemplemens mos' t'ree week!" Tom had calculated nicely, as well as an experienced commissa- riat could have done. He had an eye to a man's dimensions. He continued- "Time 'nough, tree week from now, to consideration how for git more supper: and der's no knowing wha' guine tu'n (turn) up, in dat time, for gib us more hom'ny and bacon. De Lord is wid us! An' Maussa, you ain't bin see dis bag o' rice, a good MOW A SUPPER MAY TAKE AWAY A DRAGOON'S APP3eTITE. 199 bushel, I reckon, dat Miss Ebleigh bin sen' wid dem udder t'ings. Hab a pot o' rice to-morrow!" Tom, when he declared it time enough to consider how to pro- cure more food when the present supplies were fairly exhausted, dealt in genuine negro philosophy. Sambo seldom troubles him- self to look out for the morrow. His doctrine somewhat tallied with that of Scripture. Instead of-" sufficient for the day, the evil thereof," he read, " sufficient for th. day, the good thereof." Foresight and forethought are his remarkable deficiencies. He never houses his harvest in anticipation of the storm. There was one virtue in Tom's philosophies. They never em- barrassed, or delayed him, in his duties and performances; and it was not very long before he made the grateful annunciation to the hungering- troopers tha- supper was ready to be served. Then followed the bustle. Then was Pomp conspicuous as head waiter, while Tom, as if satisfied with his share of the performance; al- ready executed, drew up a keg to the fireside, and leisurely seated himself as a spectator-ready to take up the smoking dishes from the fire as soon as the cloth should be spread to-receive them; but in no other way interested in the performance! CEAPTER XXIX. HOW A SUPPER MAY TAKE AWAY A DRAGOON'S APPETiTIE. "WHY you no spread de table-clot', Pomp?" was the snappish demand of Tom, seeing the other hesitate. ' I no see no clot', uncle Tom," replied the bewildered fiddler. "Enty blanket is clot', you son ob a skunk! Is you lib so long in de worl', dat you nebber l'arn wha' one t'ing is, and wha' nod- page: 200-201[View Page 200-201] 'JiJi rj W AUIu ADNDJ H'fJi UlJS'iAf'i.[ HOW A St der t'ingis-wha' is wood, and wha' is clot'! I reckon, boy, when we calls you to eat you' own supper, you wunt ax ef it's dut (dirt) you mus' eat, or hom'ny." Pomp, humbled by this rebuke, -possessed himself of one of the blankets, from the pile sent by the widow, but he still stood, vacantly looking about the apartment. ' Well," quoth our Major Domo, "wha' you 'tan' (stand) for, sucking in de whole rooiw wid your eyes ." "I no see any table, uncle Tom!" "Don't you uncle, me, you chucklehead! Lay de table on de floor! Who could Vblieb dat-a pusson could lib so long and grow so big, and nebber --arn-nutting! Ha! boy, you bin in de army, you'd ha' l'arn all soi't obl t'ing at de sharp p'int, ob de baggret! De army's de place for mek' man ob- ense out ob fool. Ax de gempleman's to git out ob de way, so you kin spread de table-clot'; dough 'gemplemans ought to hab sense 'nough, hese'f, for moob (move) widout axing!" Hear-that impudent rascal!" quoth Porgy, moving good-na- turedly, his example followed by Framptonand Millhouse., Was ever fellow so completely spoiled?" "I nebber spile supper, maussa!" responded Tom, with a toss of the head, as if -to say-' nobody knows my qualities better than yourself.' "No, indeed, Tom, and you presume on your merits, somewhat to their injury; but you will be taken down, you scamp, when you are required to find and hunt up the supper, as well as cook it." "Ha! but you see, maussa, my business is cook-I knows um! It's maussa business to fin' de bittle (victuals). Put de meat and bread yer, whay I kin put out my han' and git 'em, and leff it to me to hab 'em ready for eat; but da's all I hab a right for do." "Ah! indeed, my buck; but 'll persuade you, at the end of a hickory, that you have other lights." 'PER MAY TAKE AWAY A DRAGOON'S APrETITE.. 201 issa; hick'ry for Tom! Nebber:! Any body else .i a t'ing, I say, widout guine to be sassy-' he's a r he trouble.'" ' ,llow! ,Corporal, do you want a negro-a cook 2" you, Cappin, very much! Tom and myself agree ther. I like his fries monstrous." -' have him-when I'm done with him." - ; r guine done wid Tom, maussa! I 'tick to you you comnp'ny good 'nough for Tom in any country, y Iou go" 1, Tom;--but Tom, if you don't clap a hot iron to ees, he'll never have supper on table to-night." r 'ill be de deat' ob me!" cried Tom starting up, and s sudder- whack to the ear of Pomp, with the flat of rough hand. The lad reeled under the salutation. lore dexterous at the violin, than in the capacity of ;i it. He Iad no idea of the novel duties he Was re- rm; and, jerking him by the collar to the fire-place, several dishes into his hand, and proceeded, wit'a of a veteran, to guide everything to its proper his administration, the table was-soon spread. it see, boy, how de t'ing is for done. 'Member nex' see sights ob hickory, wid de twigs all growing Now, tel de gempleman's dat supper is a-waiting." 1 !sumed his seat upon the keg by the fire. Pomp ":' ssary signals, after a fashion of his own, and Porgy, down upon one corner of the blanket, which served , invited his comrades in war to follow his example. vait for - second invitation, but grouped themselves ly boarc, occupying opposite places. Tom flung nds into the fire, which blazed up ruddily, throwing over the great hall, and showing, picturesquely, the e floor, with -Pomp in waiting, and several sooty ':* . a ! t :X page: 202-203[View Page 202-203] 202 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. faces-peering in through one of the windows-from which a shut- ter had been torn-opening upon the piazza. The equipments of the board were quite as picturesque as the group around them. The crockery closet of Captain Porgy be- ing utterly empty, the hominy-pot, black and smoking as it was, had been lifted bodily from the fire, and now stood 'n the centre, resting upon a barrel-head, into which its three legs purnt regular sockets. A pewter spoon was employed to scoop up its white and well-boiled contents. The coffee-pot, a battered vessel that had been in the wars, occupied a similar resting place; while the fried bacon was handed round, by Pomp, to the several parties in the huge frying-pan, in which it had been " done to a turn." This vessel bore proof also, of serious service, having more than one flaw in the sides, while-one half of the handle had been carried away in actual conflict with the 'keen sabre of a British dragoon. The Partisans helped themselves to meat and gravy, in turn, from this sooty vessel, which was then restored to the fire-place, the better to keep warm the residue of the bacon. The hoe-cake, broken into good sized bits, was placed upon another section of a barrel-head, by the hands of Porgy himself. At -the side of each stood his tin cup smoking with coffee, while the top of the coffee- pot was employed to hold sugar, and stood, conveniently for the use of all, in the centre of the group. Thus served, our partisans were by no means slow in their per- formances. The edge-6f appetite was keen. They worked vigo- rously. The taste the meats improved the moods of all par- ties, and opened earts as well as jaws. The fullness of the mouth prompted the heart to speech; and, in the enjoyment of things of the flesh, Prgy soon began to foigeet his anxieties of the spirit. He smacked is lips overthe luscious ham, exclaiming- "This may be cAed good, Tom,-very good; in fact, I never tasted better. Y/u have certainly lost none of your talent in con- sequence of yor leaving the army." ,- ' " , " '"I i HOW A SUPPER MAY TAKE AWAY A DRAGOONS APPETITE. 203 "I bin good cook 'fo-e I ebber see de 'army." "So you were, Tom; but your taste was matured in the army; particuladly on the Pedee. But you were better at a bioil, I think, before the war." "Tom's jest as good, I'm a-thinking, at a fiy as at a brile, Cap- pin;" quoth Millhouse, licking his chaps, while elevatfng a huge slice of his bacon into s'ght, upon the prongs of his fork. "An' why you no say bile, too, Mass Copp'ral?" demanded Tom, apparently not satisfied that there should be any Implied de- merits in his case. "En (and) so I mout (might)," answered the Corporal. "This here hominy now, to my thinking, is biled to a monstrous soft- ness." "An' de bake-de ')read; wha' you say for him?" was the next exaction of Tom's 7anity; and he handed up, as he queried, a fresh supply, from the fire, of the crisp, well-browned "Johnny- cake"-an article, by tl e way, which is too often served up, of most villainous manufac-ure, particularly at a modern barbacue; but which, in those days, might usually be commended, and which, in Tom's hands, was an achievement-a chef d'oeuvre of kitchen art. "W Vell, Tom, I kin say with a mighty cl'ar conscience, that this is raal, gennywine bread. I only wish Miss Ebeleigh was here now, herself, jest to try a taste of it." "Ha!" quoth Tom, heaving up-"I 'speck (expect) ef he bin yer, he would nebber le' matissa res', tell he beg me from 'em. He would want you to gib me to um, I tell you, maussa!" "Give you, Tom! Give you to anybody? No! no! old fel- low! I will neither give you, nor sell you, nor suffer you to be taken from me in any way, by Saint Shadrach! who was your blessed father in the flesh, and from whom you inherit your pecu- liar genius for the kitchen! Nothing but Death shall ever part us, Tom, and even DeatL shall not if I can help it, When I die, page: 204-205[View Page 204-205] THE SWORD' AND THE' DISTAFF, you shall be buried with me. We have fought and fed t6o long together, Tom, and I trust we love each other quite too well, to submit to separation. When your kitchen fire grows cold, Tom, I shall cease to eat. Tom, you will not have breath enough to blow up the fire when nrine is out! I shall fight for you to the last, Tom, and you, I know,'\ would fight to the last for me, as I ai very sure that neither of us can long outlast the other." "-Fight for you; maussa- Ha! Jes' le' dem tory, try we, maussa!" responded Tom, quite excited, and shaking his head with a dire significance. But Tom did not exaetly conceive the tenor of his masters speech, or the direction of his thoughts. He did notK conjecture tkat the earnestness with which the latter spoke, had its origin in his recent meditations; and these had regard to civil, rather than military dangers ;-to the claws of the Sheriff, rather-than tory weapons! Once on this track, Porgy found re- lief in continuing it, and in making himself better understood. "They shall take none of you negroes, if I can help -it! But they shall take all before they touch a hair of your'head, Tom!" "Da's it, maussa! I know you nebber-guine part'wid Tom!' "Before they shall tear y ofrom me, Tom --!" "Day (they) can't begin to come it, maussa! I 'tick to you, maussa,'so-long as fire bu'n!" - "'But, it might be, Tom; the time might come; circunmstances might arise; events might happen; I might be absent, or unable; and then, you might fall into the clutches of some of-these di--d harpies, who take a malignant pleasure 'in maling people uncom- fortable. You have, heard, Tom, of such an animal as a Sheriff, or Sheriff's Deputy " : En ty I know-? \ He's a sort of warmint! I know's 'em well! He come into de h n-house, cut ehicken t'roat, drink de blood, and suck all de eggs! ' Iknow 'em, for sartain! Da him 2?" 'yes; they are blood-suckers, and egg-suckers, and throat- cutters-that's tiue, Tom; vermin of the worst sort ;-but they '.JKLX MJVAY 1'AJI AWAX A DALti. vUrU Al JJB'I'A'E. oUi . " e shape of human beings. They are men after a Teasels, verily, and they do the work of: beasts!- them by their sly looks; their skulkings, peepings, the snares they lay ;-by the great papers, with - they carry; and by their calling themselves Sheriffs and speaking big about Justice and the Law! If roes happen to see any such lurking about the plan- n five m'les, let me know! Don't let them lay but make for the swamp, the moment they tell ou, Tom, in particular, beware of all such I Should taking you, Tom-should I not be able to help Mu find them carrying you off, to the city, or else- Ou to some other master' " ty! maussa, wha' for you scare me so, t'inking ob - f er than have you taken off by these vermin, I will me! me, Tom! Shoot me, maussa!" you shall never leave me. I will put a brace of your abdomen, Tom, sooner than lose you But,; I shall not have the opportunity. They may take ly absence-they may steal you away-coming on i! If they should do so, Tom, I rely upon you, to deat , sooner than. abandon me, and become : other. Kill yourself, Tomr rather than let them Put your knife into your ribs, any where, three d you will effectually baffle the blood-hounds!" , maussa! kill mese'f! Me, Tom! 'Tick knife ie rib, and dead! Nebber, iL dis worl' (world) want for dead! I always good-for cook! Igood for heap'o' t'ing in dis life! No good 'nough for -No want for dead, so long as der's plenty ob bile, bake, add fry, for go sleep 'pon. Don't talk ob i *: ' page: 206-207[View Page 206-207] : . ,L;n JEJ ' vL;JiM g . l. L -J. J..i'lAN'-. .I'. D1 * - ' ; *-.LW -Ti[b7LJ XAL MLLHOUE lSsa,: is' now, when de, tim-e is 'mos' (almost) come teav-r!" * * : ; i . - - ' "-L o- a-mig L *perL" "' claimred the Captain of Partisans, playing down his per." an(d looking soldmnly and sternly at the negro-I You wills rore more ofa aman-that' you had notre- affection as helighted 1 possible" that y-u couild wish to live, if separated nd, accompan ipossible, :Tom! : I will never believe it. -No, boy, the piazza, lean riteav ie m:. 'We will niever part. You shall be my rushed eagerl -hAin fitture womlds, even as you are here. Should' rself to survive me, 'Tom-should, you be so hard- [ihaunt ybou at meal time always.: Breakfast, din at every meal--you shall hear :my voice.' I will sit soon as the broil is ready, and you shall always help ooked aghast. Porgy nodded his head solemnly- r - It shall Ibte'as I'havsesaid.- Ifyou'arenot pre- ,COaPORAL ML yourself in the same grave with me when I die, IL u6ii-mspsiiit-if: iiot in flesh';'and- I shalimake you I ha been fno'dw i At -bretkfast yoit will hear. me call1 out for - , ,-.......... . , .... .. . , ; ,ftirely swept of '.or-a steaki; 'at dinner- perh-ps, for a terrapn stew Pry .n .hi e-a . . -P Pa r ,b'd ^ p A --whi,-l isi dark anda dreafryand thereis nobody [Thevgypaed. t )eide the'fire- 'l;I shall ciy outt, -t your elb owt mys ..... Yr Y ' s ,floor, - of it .shc a voice th'at:shall 4shhake t he very hous e!"' bannisters wme ia,!'nebbt6r sayj siel t'i6g!: Ef yBi- protriise sichb s ;foiri*-c6oTe ialeT u2 by which the ,^, - .. . , degree," to e te,--so you ,'see what you have to expect, if you dgee t e &y9U -et Y ...Y. "Ypaused in his. "This won" loromily- to the fire, not 'a little beildered. Thel n templarion :i--m istlethsl[The-iof supersititiois fancies, Oand: Tom: was a With the pip. r-i-i ghosts, i an d quite faious' ti the kitchen fori his he in. ghosts, sit by, that fir( ixefi ince. ' : , :: ' : :. - lriene.: . ' -' The negroe uar' sUtper; now, Wi'th what appetite you may, andon o ou-'feed :ththier '-egoes. -g - see'that iehalve- all to the old- sol , , DISCUSSES THE POLICY: OF CAPTAIN 2ORGY. 2 . ty, maussa, you tek'.'way all me appetite for 'sup- Mn enough find it, I, fancy: ;t quoth Porgy' , ch l1yt, s pipe . Cor poral Millhouse followed ;he: example, d chy; Lieutenant Frampton, the two adjourned to ng the field to the negroes, who, at a given signal, n to the feast. - - : - . - CHAPTER XXX., ;: ; EIOUSE DISCUSSES THE POLICY -OF OAPTAt POR'Xt. aid that the homestead- of the- old so;ier. was en- ^ :urmture, Inemerging from the all ;Q ,the piazza, bllowers were without a: chabr upon which to -sit. piaz a, -accordingly,; puffing: 1s they -went: -The h ,k ber-eath their 'steps. It iieeded repair.: The gone. Theboards were half-decayed., .Thestps asceenaed .to, the house, :."were ticEklish to the. 1ast - ploy the. phrase of Porgy aimsplf. ,The latter aces O! . @ '- ' do," said he., "To smoke is ,;o:. cntemplat.,: 0q- C ? [ies ca m, repose,! and an easy positir fororth. bpdy. in my mouth I mustt sit or lie .. Let :lgpo ouat asd boys.', *- :, had k'ndled a fire within fifty feet. of the house, e of -theavenue. It was the -customary acamTpfi:te iers, and there was n. reluctance, expregsed:ir felt, ? page: 208-209[View Page 208-209] THE SWORD -AND THE DISTANT. MLLHOUS to the proposition of the Captain of Partisans. He led the way, accordingly, and, with a grunt and some effort, let himself down beside :the blaze.- New ibraids were supplied by Frampton, and himself and Corporal Millhouse, subsided upon the ground also, at respectful distances from their superior. Here they crouched for awhile.: Supper had done its work, in inducing--a certain feeling of sluggishness. Change of circumstance was productive also of a mood which inclined rather to musing than to speech. The thoughts of all were more or less busy. The subjects of Porgy's speculations may be easily conjectured. Those of Millhouse are not less easily definable, but they involved few anxieties on his own account. Lance Frampton was a young lover, who felt every hour an age which kept him away from his rustic beauty. Of course his head and heart wiere filled with her image. Not that he had not other thoughts more proper to his immediate associa- tions. His was a spirit of generous sympathies, and, spite of all [Porgy's-selfishness of character, the young man, through an inter- course of three years, had learned to love and honour himfor the yeally good points in his nature in spite of its egotism. He mused quite as much upon the fortunes of his superior as upon his own. For a time, accordingly, all were busy, brooding each after his own fashion, and -all ilent. The pipes sent forth their volumes, adding nota ilittle tho the cloudy atmosphere by which they' were surrounded.- The night was dark and raw, without being really cold. The winds were low, and faintly- sighed through the too scanty bit of wood which lay between our group and the north. The prospect promised rain by morning. The weight of the at- mosphere--wasfelt, and,: pressing back the smokes- of the fire, kept the party enrveloped in a white shroud- of mist and vapour. . A melancholy stillness overspread the scene, and the ear felt oppres- sed, as well as the eye, by the uniform absence of all provocation from ;without. Not a star was to be seen. -A solid wall seemed to shut in the circle within thirty yards; and inside of this MLLHOUSE DISCUSSES THE POLIC - OF CAPTAIN PORGY. 209 DISCUSSES THE POLICY OF CAPTAIN PORGY. 209 was visible but the skeleton outlines of the trees, tint wiite of the dwelling-house. O Jr party felt prospect. The Captain and Corporal puffed with and very soon replenished their pipes. The for- oke silence. we rain by the morning; but this must not pre- itting those rascals out of sight-f(meaning the I been slain). You must give instructions, Lance, I roes, to set off by daylight to Mrs. Eveleigh, and nmd showels, or hoes, for the purpose of burying I if sucL things are to be found. any wiere on this it, Lance, I suspect that you will desire to ride widow Griffin. It will be a day's visit only, I will be backat night. But that's 'ust as you proper. Of course, you. know, my boy, that so use-room and enough for supper, you shall share ,re married, you shall still do as you please. You Wife here, if it suits you, and her mot her too. At , ,your home, so long as it is mine." I indly, Captain; and I hope you'll keep your plan- -expect to work for you here, until Im married, 'll see. I reckon Mrs. Griffin will want Ellen - ith ler when we are married, and to manage her e herself does not marry." think she's going to do that. She was mighty md . . ' . , .. i.. th Porgy; taking out his pipe, and emptying the It may be so-and yet the widow istolerably. good-looking. A dead husband is of no sort of 'and that is the present question. When I have ipe, and emptied the ashes, I am apt, after a lit- i withfresh. tobacco. He 'who has smoked one page: 210-211[View Page 210-211] O iW t tDs-AiD -,' -i "A,? - MLLHOU pt 6to ry -ianother; and:ai tOtther,'; loig as he'can work. Now, I' is iif thi&efirst: has: not siekne&i'him* That the in order, and a iud"oi he handt tgiatcful;gi'i s god reAson :why, she by; 'and looko }the.- : sMA./Griiffi isa awoiani of fsense, and has to do for it. I I qualities to remain single. ;She is agood house- You was alway thingg: in tf imn abotit her.' She takes care of every and for plantin ,ps: heiself niiat.- 'Besides, she makes a firSt-rate- ter- known Sl man "te as good as: Tom; and- her -broil' and-' fry will wise people, Ian iL any camp'. -I iremtnber the: blue cat, which she a mann in nd s Edisto, w-iti a ieligh even now- :and that reminds pbope,; who: tal ay;, thatwe must get hooks and lines ready for the abo, the-busi ,ysoon. ;We shall' have the: Spring upon us before begun, they're iklerteady.' - ;- nater. They'e i;g, Cappin,"' said:Millhouse, "' that you'll have to "That's -philc tisombthiig besidses blue'&at arnd;fihing lines, 'otU'll '. "No, Cappin :and -hoes ooner 'than any- thing else. ; These nig- kin-make corn, o; wrk,1 mightjy soon, ef trm to have the managing you must leave - : ; :::' : ' : .: : ' ' meddle, Cappin louise!' Do your'mean to volunteer as overseer '" "Good-!: I ] '^i--eekon;that's :pietty- much all PFm goo-d for. But under a good se k6Ow somiethmin of rice plaiiting; ;and I' was never "'Zackly, Ca] akiii'ng ':rn. T ;'lfor "breaking up land, and going all your 'life. : ut ' so iieh as ,axing. yoit 'eave or:blessing." planting these gs do as you please, old fellow, for I don't know that the fields to eat( a any thing ini:these matters. "I w's always one of to conme and dii 3 planths,^ hoq eap; thistles from thei-planting.' I flooded, to catch nly to reap tares. I never had a it-i -ii planting ." 'Ah 4 but Mi aus youi nevei trueted:to'hiek;, Cappin. You was such-perch irin y ingi' o 'oiehin-soi beththei. othan otheri people, and "I reckon Iv let 'riteri(atire)i-alone. -: You was always a-hurry- But that ainWt tl youii wore: her out; -jest like those foolish' mothers ever grow'd in v chnildren physic-dose-after dose-oe -dose fight- catch 'em; and, tiher: id shara :(eiteit)he:-'one itting a chance to Sarved, -you'dl h E BISotSSTS PY:ot;ie -O APAIN POPGY. - 211l 1 a-tlhinking that the true way is't put thoe grouind1 the righ; time plant the seed, and then:tjest lie i ,and see what thetvmar sun an4 the:rain-s gine it. you, I reckon, warn't npatient -enough to"wait.' for pulling up the eorn'to'see if it :had -sprouted'.; . over jes-; when it was beginning to ra. T v I' ve of 'that' sort 'of people, pretiklarily among- you gentlemen bornt. It ain't reasonable to -hink th t: iew wisdom about- every-thing; Iand themresort of so 'fine; anid strange, andsensib,^ins a new-way :ss that Las been practised ever sence e he world !ways overdoing the business, and wokliing agin : i quite too knowing to give themselves a chance."' ; ophy, Millhouse." - . 'tain't phlosophy,; but its- mighty good 'sense. 'I : nd rice, e-reckon, jest 'as good as aniy ian ; and 1t all to me. I'll work it'all out; and you muin't' except to -do jestfthkem things 1that I tl- youi." - e that! ' I feel that I should greatly improive se keeper."'* - )in; that's the very thing you've been swantihg ': ow, I've hearn-you tell, hoW you- used, when a- - ne rice'-ands of your'n, to let thie wafer off6f oI th-e fish, ef 's be sdme-of your 'riendla ap pei'd - with you. Sp'ile a whole field bf fine rice, jest , 'feW pairCh .../. . .: . : .... -- hh&ise, they :were suuh beauties. -'You never saw ,: i life ." - . '. -'.' . -... :-L. , , ' ,:,. :-.:.!-, seed as :finepaire'as: evei you caught' appin. thing, no'hoW' -Ef they were- a s"fine-fsh' as ter, it was a sin and sliame to spile the rice toi s sure as a gubn, Oappin' efyou-had beeii iightly ' 'beebn tuk&ed up to a 'swinging liinb,land- been " iE page: 212-213[View Page 212-213] 212' - THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. dressed with-a dozen hickdries, 'tell you was made sensible and ashamed." "Humph!" exclaimed: Porgy, emptying the ashes from his pipe, and by no means delighted with the suggestion. But his self-es- teem was less combative than usual, and he remained silent. Mill- house proceeded. "Now, Cappir, I've wolunteered to be your sense-keeper, as you calls it, in all the plantation busipess, and you must jest let me have my own way, ef you want to git on sensible in the world.- I'm overseer, and you musn't come between me and the niggers. I'll do my work and will make'em do their's. Ef there's any lick- ing to be done, I'l lay it on. You may look on, but you musn't meddle. You may think what you please, but you mus'nt say nothing. We kin talk over the mattr e ver y night, and I'll show you the sense of what I've been doing in the day. You kin fish in the river when you please, and hunt in the woods when you please, and go riding at dining out where you please, and I won't meddle nor say nothing; but in the crop, Cappin; you. musn't put a finger to spile what I'm' a-doing for your good." A very pretty arrangement." "Ain't it,-now?" "Very! I have your permission to hunt, and fish, and dine abroad, if I think proper. These, then, are my duties 8" "'Zackly! but you are not to take hands and horses out of th crop, Cappin, for your 'musements. You're not to carry a good plough-boy off, to find bait for you when you'rea-fishing; or horse and nigger to beat the. woods when you're a-hunting. . You must choose onehorse for your own riding, Cappin, and stick to that." "You'll letme keep adog or two, Millhouse " "One, I reckon, ef he's a good one, Cappin. One good beagle is quite enough for these woods' ' But I shall want a pointer for birds."- "A p'inter! I never could see the use of a p'inter-! I kin find ' " , ' ^ MLLHOUSE DISCUSSES THE POLICY OF CAPTAINI POGY. 213 as many partridges, or coves, to shoot, in a pea countrr, as any man can p'int a gun at, and without any dog at all! -Ive shot, myself, a whole covey of partridges, sixteen, at a single fire." "Oh! that was butchery, Millhouse. Any body can kill par- tridges upon t-e ground, or doves upon the tree. But -o do this upon the wing, and to bird like a gentleman and a sportsman, Millhouse, req iires a dog to point and flush." "Look you, Cappin, ;hem's all notions; and whel a man's wanting flesh :or the pot, and meal foi the hoe-cake, it's not ieson- able that he should be a sportsman and a gentleman. That's a sort of extravagance that's not becoming to a free white man, when he's under bords to a Sheriff." D --n the Sheriff! Don't mention such an animal in my hearing." "Well, d -n the Sheriff! I'm agreed to that. I've no rea- son to love the animal any -more than you; bu; when we can't shake off the 'east, the best way that I kin see is to draw his teeth. Now, -he sort of life you wants to lead, Cappin, will do for a nigger gentleman,-that ain't got nothing to lose; or for an Ingin gentleman who's got nothing that a Sheriff can put under the hammer; but for you that's got edication, and has been a soldier, the thing is! different. The difference between a white man and a nigger, or an Ingin, is that a white man was made to gather substance about h'm, and a nigger and an Ingin was made to waste it. That's the vhole. The Ingin was born to clear the woods of the varmints for us; and the nigger to clean up after we've eaten. That's the philosophy." "And very sensible philosophy too, Millhouse. I had no idea that you had such profound ideas. I begin to think tiaat you'll save me from the Sheriff if any one can." "You must be doing something for yourself, Cappin, besides fishing and hunting; or, ef you will hunt, there's a sort of game that, ef you kiLr take it, will always be sure to bring us meat for the page: 214-215[View Page 214-215] 23L4 TUE, SWORI. AND. THE DISTAFF. -pot. That's the sort of gamne that you might hunt, and want no p';ater more than your wn nose! , "Unless yourself, :Millhlouse. Pray point out this profitable sort 9f game, if you please.". , A'. W'ell, that ain't so hard a matter.. And first, Cappin, let me say you're a good-looking personable man, only a little over mid- dle age. You haint lost your uprightness.. Your face is smooth. FItihaint a wrinkle onlit, Your eyes is small, but of a mighty sweeet sort of blue; and though you're a leetle too fleshy to be A srigIht yet Lord save me, you kin stand a mighty great deal of hard usage." , "And so " . "And, therefore, Cappin, you pught to git married I' "As logical a conclusion as I ever heard in all my life. A man wlo can. stand hard usage may safely venture upon matrimony. '-on my soul, Millhouse, ,your philosophy and logic improve to- gether. , .. - . . ;. 'rli'm glad you think so, Cappin:; responded the other with increasing gravity. "I'^ve been a-thinking what you ought to dc ey' sence I heer'd oyoiu talking of the bad state -of your affairs. QNOW,:says I to myself, what better kin the Cappin do, than find some clever,gpod sort of woman, that's outlived all-hergirlishness and foplishness, and, that's come to know the valley of a husband! That won't ,.be looking too closely at his figure, a4d thinking his paunch tlo big, and his legs too little-that won't be axing whether he's cut his eye-tooth' or not; but 'll jest consider that a man's a man in spite .of his gairth, that a soldier's altogether the ;bet sort: po a manm going in, these: time ; and that'll pass over the ?Sprinkle of gray in his. had, in' consideration of his sound teeth and good wind. Now, :appin, you does git a leetle out of wind, when you're -pushed to., hard; but considering what amortal w eight of fesh ,you've got tto carry, it's wonderful how much you ki;s tand. J t's, wonderful . say,. and jest as, surprising as. wonder MLLHOUSE DISCUSSES THE POLICY 'O CAPTAIN PORGY. 215 ful. Well, now, consideing' all these things, what's to hender you froim gittirg to the right side, of some good Woman, with a smait chance of property, and proving your title toit, by the sen- sible way you come over ier. I reckon there's more thanr a hun- dred such women here, in Carolina, now, that, when they come to consider how nmany of the handsome young fellows is cut doffin the war, will b3 mighty glad to hev" yoi in spite of figtire, and gray hairs. You aint so old, Cappin, but that you've a right to hev' a wife and, under the 'sarcumstances, I say, a wifeiis the one thing needful; that is, always providing she's got'something of a property to go upon; for, onless you git i woman of 'sibstance, 'it'll only make your affairs harder to' manage than ever. You must be thinkirg of a woman that'll pay off that mortgage you talk about; and hev' something over. Then, we kin work the plantation to some purpose. Then you need'nt fear the d- d warmint of a Sheriff, and then, with God's blessing on our inno- cent disposition, we may al1 live here like fighting cocks." All this, and much more, was said with .a delightful gravity. Porgy was overwhelmed. He was so taken by surprise, by the coolness with which MillLouse analyzed himself and his affairs; and reported upon his shortness of wind, while- he acknowledged the excellence of his teeth ;-the immensity of his girth, ihile he admitted the amiable cast of his: eyes; his slenderiesse of leg, (or "shrunk shank," as Porgy muttered sotto voce) while recognizing the smoothness of his ceieeks-that he was absolutely dumb" foundered, and never once thought to interrupt him, .letting him run to the end of his tether, which was by rno means a short one. At length, the worthy Corporal came:to' a halt.. He had reached his climax. ' Wat a soldier's idea of life-living "'like a fighting cock"--properly must be, need only be 'left to the conjecture of the ieader. iPorgy evidently'understood it. "That would be something, indeed, Corporal".^ "Wouldn't iti!'" xclmed the' other. :: " page: 216-217[View Page 216-217] 216 THE SWORD ANU J 1tii Noar . "Yes, indeed; as fighting militia men, we have seldom been allowed the privilege of living like fighting cocks, and I confess, for one, I should like to try it, for a season, it only by way of , achange. But- -" Here the Captain of Partisans turned uneasily. "Lance," said he to the Lieutenant, "those negroes will never finish supper unless you stir them up; and I begin to think that the house would be quite as comfortable as the avenue. This mist is turning into rain. Get in, my lad, and see after them, and let them make a clearing for us!" The youth disappeared in an instant. "And so, Millhouse, you think I am still able to undergo tle fatigues of matrimony?" "It's the very thing for you, Cappin." "Well, you've thought so much upon the subject;-I suppose you've even thought of some woman in particular, such as you describe, who has 'the needful,' and knows the value of a mal. Pray, tell me, if such is the case." "To be sure, I hev'! I've seed the very woman, and so hev' you. "Ah! Well " Well! it's jest this same lady, here, that we cut loose from the robbers-this widow Ebeleigh. When I seed the supplies in her wagon, and seed-how liberal she was in giving; when I seed the bacon and the bread, the sugar and the coffee, and the old rum, Cappin-says I to myself-' that's the woman for the Cap- pin ;' and I say it agin, Cappin, she's a woman you kin stand. I would'nt be consenting to your heving any sort of woman, bit this here one is a beauty for a man at your time, who's a soldier, and knows what's good living in this world! And I'm a-thinking, Cappin, that that's not -far from her notion too. She looked on you amazin' sweet, I tell you." "It is something to be thought of, Millhouse; but, as the widow MUSINGS-MDNIGHT ALARM. 217 is'nt here, just now, suppose we try the rum? What do you say to a toddy?"- "Well, I say, that's quite a sensible and sodger-like idee." "Your arm, my good fellow," quoth Porgy; and, with the help of the Corporal, he heaved his bulk into uprightness, and both of them passed into the house; from the hall of which Frampton had, by this time, expelled the negroes, sending them into the basement, Tom and Pompey alone remaining above, with the view to making proper arrangements for the night. CHAPTER XXXI. MUSINGS-MDNIGHT ALARM. "TOM," said Porgy, stirring his rum and sugar, and touching glasses with the Corporal-Frampton declined to drink-"Tom! where are you going to spread my blankets to-night?" Yer, maussa, yer by de fire. Yer's de place for you l; de Lieu- tenant must lie dere, and de Copp'ral will ease he limbs yonder, close by de sugar kag." "'Twont do, Tom! I must sleep in my old room, you rascal, if it's habitable. You know this, but--" "But dere's no fire dere, maussa." "And why the d-1, didn't you have a fire made there, you lazy rascal? See to it at once. Open the room, and if there's floor enough for my length and breadth,-have it swept out in the twinkling of an eye. Set some of the fellows atI once :o work bringing in wood and kindling fire." "You, Pomp- -" 19 page: 218-219[View Page 218-219] THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. alone! I want him here. Do it yourself if ou "ho has seer a else." a -Frampton repliE C Ihave fastenE *ared and stirrd up the negroes below stairs. The "Ihave fasten( iber, entering 'om the hall, was thrown open, ad a them both con a over a supply to 1 ae , Lble?" was the demand of Porgy. "Ah!-all's ri maussa, when I done bresh 'em out and mek' de to you; though I Le ob de floor board is gone, but 'nuff lef' for ouMlhouse grow the tone of a bull L Bestir yourself!--and now, men, for the order brightened a littl morrow. We must get an early breakfast, and set replied to the C r the burial of these rascals. Lance, did you instruct Tom and Pomp, ws to ride over at daylight to Mrs. Eveleigh's for Was left in deep q cended from -he r ,as affirmative. Our Captain of i! And now, men, the sooner you take your rest down upon the p 'o-morrow we must be stirring. There is much to was spread before n, do you give out a blanket to each of the negroes baze. He had one for yourself, and give Pomp another. Put the clothes, his boots )om. You, Tom and Pomp, will sleep in the shed- side him, his sad vithin call. See to the negroes below, before you served him for a they do not crowd into the fire. If let alone, the His eyes were be "burn us all up. Have an eye to them.. We must almost vacant chf le-houses as soon as possible. And now to bed.- apartment, poba you take some more rum before you sleep?" ihibted proo o Ups* . lappingformer wealth an ip, Cappin." rself, Tom, and put the rest safely away." the present fort 1, maussa," and Tom helped himself with a liberal overthefire-plac )use had already :stretched himself out, rolled upi in I ol, done upor Frampton lay upon his, resting upon his elbow, with framework aroun his palm, and gazing demurely 'into the fire. Por- pillars of the ma ious glance around him, then gathering up his sword in similar style. was about to retire, when he turned and said- tered rames of :USINGS-MDNIGHT ALARM. 219 to the horses?" L them under the piazza, Captain, and given a fodder. Mrs. Eveleigh's overseer brought ;t a week." - it! Well, good night, men, and a good sleep- nay as well tell you that the house is haunted." ,d from within his blankets, with something of1 log suspicious of a stranger. Frampton's eye but, except, the "good night," with which he ain's, said nothing. In a few moments, Porgy, aving retired to their several lairs, the house i iet, save from an occasional murmur that as- groes in the basement. Partisans entered his chamber, and let himself e of blankets which formed his couch. This the fire-place, and he sat with his feet to the isencumbered himself of his coat and small- and stockings. His sword and pistols lay be- le, over which one of the blankets was spread, illow. But, for a long time, he did not lie down. - t upon the fire, or slowly wandered around the nber. It was a snug, but sufficiently capacious ly eighteen by twenty feet. The walls still ex- deg-ee of pride and state, which declared for a taste, such as was strangely inconsistent with nes of the possessor. The panelling of wood, still showed traces of two landscape paintings the panels with no inconsiderable art. The them consisted of heavy carved work, and the tel-p ece were richly ornamented with carvings About the room still hung the dingy and scat- ctures, probably portraits, fi'om wh'ch the can- page: 220-221[View Page 220-221] 220 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. vass had been cut out. It had probably been found useful for the meanest purposes, and had been appropriated,-with all other mova- bles of any value, by the marauding British and Tories. The glass was destroyed in the sashes of all the windows. The shut- ters were mostly torn from the hinges and carried off, probably de- stroyed for fire-wood. One of the planks of the floor had been taken up, and lay beside the opening, very much hewed and mangled by the axe. The fragments of an ancient mahogany bedstead lay piled up in one corner, but it was evidently no longer available for use. It had been that on which Porgy had slept when a child. It was the bedstead of his mother. A bit of green cord still depended from a nail against the opposite wall. It had sustained the picture of his mother; that portrait of a fair young woman, taken when she was yet unmarried, whose sweet smiling features, in the active exercise of memory and fancy, seemed still to be looking down upon him. Porgy knew not that the big tears were gathering slowly in his eyes, and gradually stealing down upon his cheeks. He had reached his home, but it was a home no longer. The home is made by the hopes which it generates, and he had survived all those, of whatever sort, which came with youth and childhood. The prospect before him was one of unmixed desolation. How was he to redeem the mort- gaged acres of his domain? How was he to retain the poor re- mains of a once ample fortune? What were his own resources for this task. What was left for him to do, and where was the agency, external to himself, by which to effect the difficult achieve- ment. The embarrassing straits of his condition had made }hem- selves apparent to him, most fully, on the moment of his return. But for the unexpected events of the day, and the generosity of iMrs. Eveleigh, he must have gone, himself, supperless to sleepi and witnessed the privations, in extreme, of his followers and slaves. And the relief was temporary only. He must provide for these hereafter; and how? By incurring new embarrassments and MUSINGS-MDNIGHT ALARM. 221 obligations; by adding to the! weight of former bonds and respon- sibilities; by endeavouring to establish a credit witLout being able to offer r-ew securities. Was it probable that he could do this, in the unsettled Condition of the colony? And what securi- ties could he offer to tke creditor? His lands were mortgaged to an amount five times their present value. A foreclosure of mortgage at the preser-t juncture would not only sweep them away, but take his negroes also, and still leave him A debtor be- yond all means of payment. Even if time were allowed him, could he hope, criminnally ignorant as he was of all the arts requi- site to the good planter, to recover himself and renovate his for- tunes. These were the subjects of his meditations, and, chewing the bitter cut of thought and memory, his heart almost failed him. He stretched himself out upon his blankets almost reproach- ingthe merciful Fate which had saved him from the bullet or bayonet of the enemy. His despondency, for awhile, increased with his meditation, urtil he felt that it would not be difficult that very hour to die. To die, was to escape the cares, the trou- bles and the humiliatiors to which he felt himself unequal, and which he now felt to be inevitable from life, with such a prospect as now grew up, dark and distinct, before his mind. He would have found it at once easy and grateful to be roused that moment with the call to battle. He would have rejoiced to find a full finish to his cares, in a desperate onset, at the head of his corps of partisans. "But the wars were all over," and this refuge was de- nied him. Ee must live, and how to live? The reflections that followed this inquiry, arrayed before him the small operations of his little force of half-a-dozen negroes in the rice fields. under the doubtful management o5: Corporal Millhouse. True, tLe Corporal boasted of his merits as a rice planter, but was it so sure that he knew anything of the matter? True, rice was the motprofita- ble crop then made in the country, but how much rice, even sup- posing the best management, and the most favouring seasons, 19* page: 222-223[View Page 222-223] 222 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. could be made by his half-dozen negroes?. But then came up the last suggestion of the sanguine Corporal, There was the widow Eveleigh? The widow was a woman of goodly form, of gracious manners, of fine and independent estates. The widow had experienced his friendly services; she had witnessed his valour in her cause; he had perilled life in her defence; he had, in all probability, saved herself from brutality, and her son from death. These were eminent services. She evidently felt them. Why should he not aspire to the widow? Was he not a man of per- son, portly, of commanding figure,- of good features, and quite young enough for her. The Captain stroked his chin with a sense of satisfaction as he reasoned thus. But, just then, occurred to him the somewhat disparaging reflection of the Corporal upon his legs. He looked down at the members, which were thus as- sumed to be impediments to progress, in direct conflict with their designed uses. Surely, they are not so slender-they are not shrunken at all; their dimensions are as great as ever. It is only in contrast with the mountainous abdomen, that they appear infe- rior. It was with some feeling of reproach and impatience that our Captain fixed his eyes on the unnaturally distended member. By what malice of Fate was it that it had so greatly grown at the expense of all the rest! But he was kept from quarrelling out- right with the one region, by a timely recollection of the famous allegory of Menenius Agrippa. "No! no!" quoth he to himself. "This will never do. I could wish my store-house differently shaped and sized, if only for compactness and more easy carriage; but it has done good service in its time, and it is my own fault if I have used it a little too much, and the other members much too little. Had I worked them more, and itless-had I suffered;them less to take their ease, Ishoull now have nothing to complain of, either in respect to their deficiency or its excess. It has distributed as liberally as it could, according to my allowance; and they, according to Agrip- MUSIGS--MDNIGHT ALARM. 223 pa, have received 'the flower of all,' leaving to the belly the bran only. Certainly, it is a monstrous necessity that I should be com- pelled thus to carry with me such a bag of bran. But what is to be done? It is an'inheritance which one may not mortgage; a store-house of which no Sheriff can deprive the possessor.- This, at least, is a perfect right and indefeasible!" and he laid his hands rather affectionate-y on the region under description. "At least!" he continued, "there is nothing insignificant about it. It may not be comely to the eye, but nobody can regard it as contemptible. It is rot calculated to admit of the exhibition of grace; but what gentleman is ambitious of the rer own of a dancing master. Still, i; is something on parade. No'ody finds fault with such an abdomen in a General. It embarrasses no man whose position requires that he should move with dignity. It guarantees the courage of the proprietor, since one -s scarcely apt to run in battle, with such extensive stores to carry-with him. No! no! Corporal, you shall not persuade me out of the- faith that my parts are at all 'n the way of my person. Bu; you may persuade me to the effort to place them properly in the way of other people. This widow is a noble creature-pleasing to the eye; amiable, I know; well off, in respect of fortune. She can redeem my acres. She can put me on my legs again, however heavy my inc'imbrance. And why should she not do so? She is young enough still for tastes and sensibilities, for which mere wealta can never suffice. She has tasted of matrimony, and does not seem to have suffered from the taste. We must tiink more closely of this matter." - He laid himself back -lpon his saddle, and mused awhile, rose again, and sitting, pushed up the brands, and drew the blanket over his legs. His meditations were now upon topics and details more immediately pressing. "To-morrow, we will bury these scoundrels. It will take us till afternoon. We can do little more- that day. The next I am page: 224-225[View Page 224-225] 224. THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. to dine with the widow. Humph! The next I must set off for the city. We must have ploughs and hoes, and a hundred other things for the plantation. Millhouse must be pacified. The ne- groes set to work. We must work, that is clear, thodgh the Sheriff steps into the harvesting Wagons, ploughs, hoes, axes, rope, furniture-I %must have. By Jupiter! I am resolved to die in a feather-bed, if I can. Food--we must-have some bacon for the negroes. I must have some wine for myself, and for a guest, and rum for the Corporal. Kitchen furniture-" And he enumerated a score of other commodities. "But, the d 1! How for the credit! I must counsel on the subject' with the widow. A woman is never more flattered by a man than when he solicits her advice. She usually gives him more than he bargains for, but she not unfrequently gives herself into the bargain!" The meditations of Porgy, mixed as they were, carried him late into the night. When every thing was still about the premi- ses he was wakeful. As a thought would occur to him with any force, he would rise, fling a fresh brand into the fire, and sit up watching the blaze; lie down again for awhile, only to start up once more to meditation. But nature asserted her necessities at last, and his nostrils soon furnished audible echo to those sounds which he had heard at intervals issuing from the neighbouring hall, and, as he assumed, from the proboscis of the Corporal. Deep thus con- tinued for a season to call unto deep, without either paying much- heed to their mutual responses. Once, it is true, a more than or- dinary explosion from the Corporal's nose, seemed to disquiet the slumbers of the Captain. "Zounds!" quoth he, drowsing again. "How Milli ouse does snore! What an infirmity!-peculiar, I believe, only to the low- er orders. Gentlemen never snore! How is it with ladies -- Wonder if the widow Evel- " And the conjecture remained unconcluded; and tLe mutual \ ' ' l MUSINGS-MDNIGHT ALARM. 225 nostrils of Captain and Corporal continued to respond to one an- other, without causing any annoyance to either party. But they were both destined to be aroused by an explosion of very different character. They had'slept some hours, soundly, as was natural to men who had gone through such a day's work as that we have already described. It wore on towards morning-was, indeed, but a short hour to daybreak-when Porgy started up with a ringing and a rushing sound, seemingly immediately at his ears. Mill- house was awakened at ;he sanme moment. , They were both up- on their feet in an instant. But they were in the dark. The fire had burned down in both apartments, and Millhouse was stum- bling in contusion over kegs and boxes, not knowing in which way to turn, or whence came the sounds of alarm which were still ringing in his ears. The Captain wakened to instant con- sciousness of his situatio. It was a pistol shot he hac heard the moment after he was wakened. He detected a rush in the piazza, and fancied he cQuld hear still the distant tramplings of a horse. He could also hear the soft dull pattering of the rain upon the roof of the piazza. There was evidently an alarm. His holsters were caught up, and the pistols detached in an instant. In another he was feeling his way into the hall, whither he made his way without any difficulty, the whole region being -amiliar to his childhood. Suddenly he encountered Millhouse. They grap- pled one another with a mutual instinct. "Speak!" cried Porgy, "or I shoot." "It's you, Cappin, is it ." replied the other. "What's the matter, Millhouse?" "Dogs! I don't know! I jest heerd bang! bang ar d a-shout- ing, and a noise of feet, and started up to make my way out, and heeled over one of these d--d kags! I've spilt some blood in the affair, though it's onlyfirom my nose." "A part that may well spare it," replied Porgy, not willing to forego his jest at any season. "But, where's Lance?" page: 226-227[View Page 226-227] 226 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. "I ha'n't seed him.?" "Then it was his pistol. That fellow never sleeps. Stay! that window is open on the piazza. I see. He has jumped cut there. Let me find the door. We must see after him. He's a sentinel among a thousand. Those d d negroes haven't heard a word of the matter." "Hain't turned over for a second nap, I reckon." "Strike a light, Millhouse! Here's the fire-place, you know where you put the flint and matches. I've got the door." Saying these words, Pprgy unfastened the door and stept out into the piazza. All was still for a few moments. He could see nothing. The night was dismally dark. The rain fe!l it a settled shower. The wind sighed at a distance very mournfully Porgy waited in silence. As the light kindled within, he drew the door to, that it might offer no aid to a random bullet. He stood thus, beginning, in his only half-dressed condition, to shiver with the chilling night wind, when he heard a footstep upon some decaying branches on the earth below. "Who goes there-?" "Lance!" was the reply, and the young Lieutenant srang up the steps, covered with mud, and soaking with water, vith a pis- tol in each hand. "What the d---l's the stir, Lance?" The youth's story was soon told. He was awakened by a trampling and seeming confusion among the horses below. He listened, and, as the stir continued, he rose, found his pistols, and was preparing to step out quietly, when he distinctly eard the free movements of a single steed, as if guided round the house. He immediately dashed open the shutter of the wind}w under which he lay, jumped out into the piazza and challenged. In- stead of an answer, the horse was put into instant mo-ion down the avenue. He fired twice, at random, at the object which he fan- cied he could see, but he supposed without effect. 1 He then , MUSINGCS-MDNIGHT ALARM. 227 darted down the steps, and down the avenue for a hundred yards, but without result. The fugitive, whoever he was, had succeeded in making his escape. Of the mischief done, if any, nothing as yet was known. To .this inquiry all parties now addresed them- selves. Porgy hurried on his clothes. Millhouse, penetrating the shed-room where Tom, the cook, and Pomp, the fiddler, were do- ing any quantity of sleep, endeavoured to arouse them both at the same moment, by punching them, as they lay side by side, with his sheathed sabre in his one hand, and with the stump of his remainingo arm. His sword' stirred Pomp into consciousness, while the stump of arm, pressing closely against Tom's cheek, was in- stinctively seized, by the sleeve, between the teeth of the negro, and held with a growl, which made the Corporal a lit-le doubtful of his condition. "Why, Tom," said he, "you're wolf-bit, and dog-bit too, I reckon, jedging by the sort of teeth you carry; but let loose, old fellow, or I'll be drawing 'em out with a handspike." "Who dat?" quoth Tom. "Git up, you varmint, and shake yourself." "Gorrah! I nebber guine git my sleep!" "Sleep! You've had enough for a month. You sleeps like a bear in cold weather." "Dis dah cold wedder 'nough for nigger. Ef I bin bear, Mass Copporal, I nebber been let you go so easy. Wha' de matter now? Wha' for you no let poor sodger nigger hab he leetle sleeps wid- out 'tir 'em up wid stump and swode " " "Why, we're robbed and killed here, you slkink; we've had a fight with the tories, and they've scalped Lance, and shot the Cap- pin in three places, his head, his belly, and his witals." "Lord ha' massy! Shoot maussa jes' as he git to he own home at last. I never b'lieb, eben ef I see emn. Ho! maussa, I say, in der' 1" And, shouting as he went, followed by Pomp, Torn, the cook, page: 228-229[View Page 228-229] 228 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. now thoroughly awakened, hurried to join the group w 'thin the hall., Torches were kindled, and all armed, the party sa lied out, having divided, one portion taking the front, the other, the rear outlet. The house was circled, the avenue explored; holse-tracks were found going forth, freshy made in the mud; and an exami- nation of the horses showed one of them to be missing. "'Tis de raw bone black, Pomp. De same sawt of ho se I bin see dat d n Bossick ride." The proceeding was a sufficiently daring one. "The Squatter, Bostwick?" queried Porgy, looking tq Tom. "Da him, maussa, sure as a gun." "It may be! Well!" compressing his lips. "He miay ride one horse too much for his own comfort yet." "The foal of an acorn!" said Millhouse. "I reckoa it was sartain one of the chaps we fout with yesterday, whether you call him Bossick, or what. And a mighty sassy fellow! W'hy Cap- pin, sich a thing hardly ever happened to us in all the cam- paigns." "No, indeed!" "It is a shame and a disgrace to us as sodgers." "You forget that the war is over and we had no reason to ex- pect attack. But it's no use talking. Well it's no worse. He might have taken all, but for Lance. Millhouse, you sleep like a tomb-stone, and snore like the Seven Sleepers. There's no more sleep for any of us to-night. It must be near day. T m, turn in and have us some coffee.- Lance, send off the fellow to the widow Eveleigh's for the spades and hoes. Tell him to go to the overseer's house, and be careful not to- disturb the lady. Corporal, will you take a little rum now, or wait for the coffee?" "Well, Cappin;, jest to be a-doing, I'll do both." "You were :born to be a soldier, Corporal," replied Porgy quiet- ly, as he motioned to the liquor before him. Pomp wazs already at hand with a gourd of water. But Millhouse drank alone. Por- 4 8 i RETURN TO THE FIELD OF BATTLE. 229 gy had already turned to his usual resource, and was crowding fresh tobacco into his pipe. Day dawned within the hour, but very gloomily, and the rain, though slackened, still continued. CHAPTER XXXII. RETURN TO THE FIELD OF BATTLE. THE day, as was expected, opened in gloom. The sun made no showings that morning. The skies were enveloped in unbroken cloud and vapour, relieved, imperfectly, by a constant fall of rain, which was of that cool, measured, deliberate sort, which indicates unfailing resource, and a quiet determination to have its own way. Our Captain of Partisans walked out into the piazza, front and rear, without any sense of relief from either quarter. The avenue in front exhibited a dreamy aspect in spite of the fact that it was composed mostly of evergreens. The great oaks, grown together and arching above the track, each wore its heavy streamers of gray moss, which drooped almost to the earth with the great water drops, like the old fashioned pictures of Winter, his big beard crested with icicles. Vacant fields on each hand, fenceless and wholly uncultivated, added vastly to the dreariness of the scene. Fog and cloud, vapour and rain, were present everywhere, and made every thing as gloomy to the eyes of the spectator, as it was to his thoughts. Those old fields, should he ever again see them smiling in corn? The old house, whose timbers groaned beneath his tread, how long should he enjoy its shelter?-should he ever, with any feeling of security, behold it gay with the joy- 20 page: 230-231[View Page 230-231] 230 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. ous faces of his friends? Was not all the life prospect before his mind, as sombre and cheerless as that before his eyes? While he mused thus, perhaps with a-wholesome bitterness, having in it no small degree of self-reproach, he was joined by Milll ouse. ' These old fields, Cappin," said the latter, extending the stump of his arm, as he spoke, to the indicated quarter, "these old fields will be sure to bring fine corn; they are all matted with weeds, and have been lying out so long. I reckon you kaillt ricollec; when they were planted last?" "Not I!" was the answer. "But you hev'. seen em a-growing, Cappin?" "I suppose so; I can now see that they have been planted, and I suppose in my time; but really, my good Corporal, 1o say tha- I saw them in a crop, or ever saw the crop, of any kind, when - was professedly a planter, would be something of a rashniess on my part. Pray believe that I was a very foolish, proligate per- son, who, in ceasing to be young, did not cease to be foolish, and continued his- absurd vanities and excesses to the last And, I am telling you now, Millhouse, what has been but too 2ommonly the case among our young men of fortune of my dey. There were some exceptions, it is true; but the curse of my generation was that our fathers lived too well, were too rapidly lrosperous, and though they did not neglect the exercise of a propr industry in themselves, they either did not know how to teachK it to their children, or presumed on the absence of any necessity that they should learn. We were to be affluent in what they shpuld leave: us-enough, in God's name, if we could keep it-but it is very sure that the best way to teach one to value and to keep what he gets, is just to teach him how to get. He who has n )t learned the one lesson will fail in the other, and is apt to waste what he did not work for. And now, my good fellow, don't s y another word to me about the crops in past seasons. I have really nc wish to confess my sins and follies to man as well as to n yself and RETURN TO THE FIELD OF BATTLE. 231 God. Turn in, if you are so- disposed, and make your crops; you say you know how, and I am willing to believe you. I will assist you when I can " But don't you meddle, Cappin." "Oh! no! you shall have full swing for a season, at least, and I will second you--Iwill be your Corporal only. You shall have a fair share of the spoils at harvest time,- and we'll continue to live as decently as possible in the meanwhile. And that reminds me that it is time for breakfast. That rascal, Tom, because we broke his slumbers so suddenly this morning, will be out of hu- mour all day. Let's see to him." Corporal Millhouse was not quite satisfied to have his mouth shut so summarily by the frank confession of the faults and follies on the part of his superior. -Ie was not content that a general confession, however sweeping, should anticipate the details, one by' one, of Porgy's short-comings. He had a sort of inquisitorial faculty for dragging out the truth, inch by inch, slowly from the criminal, so that he should not escape a single pang which was proper to his case; and his deliberate purpose had been to take the Captain over his territories, field by field, and extort from him at each, some admission of fault or ignorance. It was with a growl that he yielded to the very decided manner of his superior which at once closed the door against farther " question." The day, opened as we have seen with bustle and confusion, was destined to be a busy one. Breakfast was sullenly prepared by Tom-with whon the whole world had seemed to go wrong from the moment when the stump of Millhouse's arm, that morn- ing had made so firee with his sensibilities; and Pomp, stupid, rather than savage, swas serving it up to lour partisans, ashe had done the su; per the night' before, when Fordham,' the overseer, suddenly cantered up to the house. ITe had brought with him the negro who had gone for IlQes and shovels, with some three of four others, similarly provided, foi the purpose of assisting in the page: 232-233[View Page 232-233] -THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. RE burial of the outlaws. This was due to the timely sun the widow Eveleigh, who, the night before, had given t1 his instructions, and who had expressed herself particl ious for the recovery of the mahogany box, which sl counselled him to look for in all the places in which I had been seen to harbour during the day of her adven did not tell him of the contents of the bob, and had k so far as he was concerned, in respect to thy paper whied the memoranda of McKewn, and the signature of tl philanthropist. Fordhain, accordingly, simply stated hogany box was missing containing fifty guineas, an mention, in this place, that Porgy, his followers, and t generally, all busied themselves in its search with as mi as if the property had been their own. But the labou vailing, and the search was finally given up as hopel persevering scrutiny in swamp and thicket, hiding pla< low, wherever it seemed possible, or plausible to thin: outlaws had penetrated. - But to return. Fordham was invited to share the breakfast, which h right good will. He was now told of the alarm which had had, and the loss which they had suffered, of one tured- horses. "Which one, Cappin ?" demanded Fordham. "A raw bone black." "C Ah!" " Da Bossick horse, Mass Fordham," quoth Tom, putt fidehtly. ' Pomp say he know de horse, and John Syl tell me de same t'ing." "He look like hoss I bin see Bossick ride one time." " But you ain't sart'in, Pomp F? asked Fordham. " He bin ride raw bone black, one time." "It may be," said Fordham. '" Bostwick is not toc my villany; and we have good reason to think it w i ETRN TO THE FIELD OF BATTLE. 283. means that your niggers and Mrs. Eveleigh's was carried off to the British. We don't inow for sartin, but it's mighty like. Now, I have hearn of BostwIck riding a raw bone black, but I don't know that I ever seed him on a critter in my life. He's a mighty cute fellow that never lets you git too near to him. I'm pretty sure he headed them rascals yesterday, yet I never seed one man more than another that I could lay finger on for him and be sart'in.- Yet I could almost swear a Bible oath that he was one of them, and one of the worst! There was one on them that called Jenny, the nigger gal, by the right name; and I reckon he was the one. He know'd her well, and let the word slip onawar's." "Does not the -fllow live somewhere in this neighbourhood still ?" demanded Po'gy. "Well, thar's no telling if he lives any whar. He's never to be seen in these parts. I haven't heard of him for a year, posi- tive, fromatnybody that could sw'ar they seed him. He's got his family on the corner of Mrs. Ev'leigh's land, and not- far from your's-jest in the swamp, and not a half a mile from the river; but I reckon he's hardly there once a year. The family never sees much of. him, I'm sartin." But that is one of his quartering places. We must root 'em out, Fordham; his family is as bad as himself. Has he any sons " "A leetle boy, only, and two gals. The boy is just creeping about. The two gals are most half-grown-one's about twelve, I reckon, the other te. But, Lord love you, Cappin, there's no rooting these people out. It would be the cruellest thing that you could do. They are so poor and miserable, and so humble, and the poor wife's so sad and heart-broken, and onhappy, and the gal children is so sweet, and so mighty pretty, preticular- ly the oldest, who's aborn beauty, jest like the darter of some great people. As fo- being as bad as himself, that's not so, Cap- pin, axing your pardon. They're good people, working hard, night 20* page: 234-235[View Page 234-235] 2&8s4 a6d -WORDJ AND THE DISTAFF. and day, and gitting none of the benefit of all that Bostwick ains or steals. He's hardly ever with 'm, and does, nothing for 'em when lie comes, onless for the :oldest gal, and they tells me that h pets her a leetle, and according to his humours. It's t a hard cse for them that they have to do -with -sich a born rasial; but what's to help it. The poor wife can't git rid of him i ow, and the poor little children. They car only groan and cry' ogether, when they're by themselves, and take what the marcy of God sends 'em, through the hands of their neighbours. Yi)u kain't think of rooting 'em out; 'Mrs. E'leigh knows jest as well as anybody what Bostwick is, but-she has pity on the poor wife and children. She gives them spinning to do, and weaving, and the oldest darter is both mighty clever to work and willi lg; and its througLh Mrs. Ev'leigh- that tley gits on at all; bu" for her they'd starve; she feeds 'em; and physics 'em, and clothes 'em; and yit' that black-heartdd scamp, Bostwick, has been a )out the worst inimy of her and her planta;ion, that she ever had in these parts." "Well, Fordham, rI'm' sworn-to do this poor woman and her children a greater charity than eve, Mrs. Eveleigh has doea " "Ah! youkain't do that easily, Cappin." "I will!" . -- "What's that?" "I've sworn by Acheron and Styx, to see him hung to the first good -swinging limb within half n hur afterI lay ees upon 'him." - , ' yo "And may God, in his marcy, grant you the strength and the chance, Cappin, to keep your oath. That would be a great char- ity, I'm consenting, to the poor woman and the little chicks; and Im willing to take a hand in it, whenever you are readT to tree the critter. Ef she was free of him, she would do bette', for he brings her no help, and Im a-thirking takes away fron. her all she, can airn. Besides, peopl'ed afear'd to hire her at their places, RETURN TO THE FIELD OF- BATTLE. 283- for fear they'll bring him about 'em. Ef he was dead and out of the way, she would be a thousand times better off." "We must pay her a sudden visit to-day-try to ascertain if hea has been there laely, and when. He would hardly visit the neighbourhood, without seeing them." "That's as it happens, and seems advisable. He wouldn't resk a hair of his head or- a visit to them at any time, though the nig- gers do say that he loves the eldest galichild." "And she's a beauty?" "A raal flower of the forest, Cappin." "Poor thing! Why don't Mrs. Eveleigh take her home "' "She's afear'd of the father's coming about the place; besides, the mother won't let her leave her. She says she's her only com- fort, and I reckon she is. She's a raal swee;, smart, and beautiful little critter." "We'll take them coming back. You can guide us, Fordham, for I pretty much forget all the routes in this quarter. And now, to horse." "But what's the need for you to go, Cappin?" demanded Ford- ham and Millhouse in the same breath. ' We kin bury these blackguards, and look up for the box without troubling you; and you see the rain keeps on." "A fig for the rain! After soaking for five years in rain, and, indeed, all sorts of liquors, to talk to me now of another soaking as a thing to skulk from. Shut up, my good fellows. Pomhp, my horse! Besides, how do I know but that you may have cus- tomers in the surviving robbers. A couple of stout rascals, in ambush, would easily-settle twice their number, for your negroes could never be relied on. Ho1! Pomp!" "Wha' mek' you holler, maussa? Enty you see de boss ready for you by de tree. All i'eady but you swode and pistols, and yer he is." Thus- Tom, with sword- and holsters on his arm. The sword page: 236-237[View Page 236-237] 236 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAF. was quietly girded about the waist of Porgy by Frampton, while Tom followed with the holsters. A few moments, and the party moved up the avenue, all mounted, even the negroes, who carried their hoes and shovels across their thighs, or up in air, as tie Scy- thian and Cumanche robber carries his spear, and weLt forth better pleased with the idea of burying their dead, than mith that of going into battle. 1 Their farther progress requires no detailed report. The1- reach- ed the skirmishing ground in due season, and reviewed its aspects. The slain outlaws were found undisturbed where they had been left, and were buried where they lay. No coffin or shroud en- wrapped the forms of those who had cast themselves off iom so- cial sympathies. Holes in the earth, some three feet d3ep, be- yond the reach of wolf and wild cat, sufficed to hide theis, out of sight. And this was all. The negroes heaped up the earth in mounds above them, and a. stake, cut from the woods and driven down at the head of the grave, indicated to the wayfarer tae place of human sepulture, in that wild spot, and remote from se tlement or church, very much as the waysice; cross in'Spain denotes where the murdered. traveller has perished. This duty done, and the search after the lost box of Mrs. Eveleigh proving ineffectaal, our Captain of Partisans, some two hours after noon, proposed to his party to return. All assented but Lance Frampton, who seemed to hesitate, and, by his manner, reminded Porgy of thc young man's obligations elsewhere. "Ah! Lance, by. the way," saicd he, "ride over and see Mrs. Griffin and her daughter. It is btt two miles and a half from us where we stand, and a shorter distance, by twice that number, than if you go back with us, and then proceed. IYou cah return at night, or not, as you think proper. Of course, we wa;. you, if you can be spared, and will keep supper for you. till bed time.- Go, my good boy, and present my best respects to the goo4 widow. Youremember, I spend the day, to-morrow, at Mrs. Eveleigh's, BOSTWICK, THE SQUATTER, AND HS -FAMLY. 237 and shall wish you to accompany me. Millhouse will-go also, while Tom keeps watch at home. The next day or soon after, I shall, probably, be compelled to set out for the city to get sup- plies. There now, hy lad, you have all my plans for the present, and can make your own arrangements accordingly." "Ef you are riding over to the widow Griffin's now, Lieuten- ant," said Fordham, turning to the youth, " be so good as to say to her, that I'll send the peas and inyons (onions) over to her a Sat- urday night--that's all." And Lance Frampton rode off alone. "And now, Fordham," said Porgy, 'lead the way to the wig- wam of the Squatter. Let us see his family at all events, and find out, if we can, whether he has been there lately.' CHAPTER XXXIII. BOSTWICK, THE SQUATTER, AND HS FAMLY. IT is time that we should return to the recesses of the swamp where we left the Squatter, Bostwick, up to his neck in water. No condition could'have appeared more hopeless,-no situation more humbling or perplexing. It is, perhaps, the case commonly, that the habitual criminal is habitually an- unthinking person, else how should the utter profitlessness, and certain perils of crime, fail to impress themselves lipon the mind of him who toils in his voca- tion of sin, and is taught by the bitter experience of each day the terrible truth that the only wages he can earn;-in this'employ- ment,'is shame and scorn, and foes, and ignominy and death'!- What had been Bos-wick's profits in his career As he mutter- page: 238-239[View Page 238-239] 238 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. ed more: than once to himself, standing on the cold an. gloomy hammock- "I have nothing to show! McKewn kin show, and Monciieff kin show; they've got the money and the goods; they're great men in the world and rich ;-but H've got nothing but the dan- ger, and the cold, the resk and the exposure, the empty pockets, and the swinging limb! Empty pocket! No!-not sobrd as all that, either, The widow said ther was fifty guireas in her box." The miserable wretch found his temporary consolatikn in this reflection. His comrades had mostly perished. He hid nearly shared their fate. The plundererswere stript. They 'Who went forth to shear, came home shorn. Evenhis horse and rifl- had dis- appeared in the grasp of the partisans; and they were a class of people with whom long experience-iad taught him that it'was very dangerous to meddle. But the. recollection of the widoW's strong box consoled him for the imomentJ That was safe. he had hid- den it beyond the search and suspicion even of I is comrades, and he chuckled to himself, even in that gloomy hour, at the deverness with which he had succeeded indoing so.. Fifty guineas were in that box. Fifty guineas! He began to calculate how :ong they were to lasth according to the life of riot, drinking an(. gaming which he led.' He made no appropriations of any port on to his family. They had no such need as himself. 'Fify guineas!-and' thepapers. They,too, must be in that box; and thesi papers, according to the inadvertent admissions of McKewn, we:e impor- tant to his safety. "The d --d skinflint!" muttered Bostwick ;o himseJf. "He shall pay for them or hang! He talks of me h nging, andto my face, jest as ef he had any right to make me feel onepsy. But we'll see who's most likely to h:ng. We'll see who's the rope g ine to-fit best., The mean, di ty scoundrel. I see what he's after-; but I'll put a spoke in that wheel, will upset his carriage, ef:hbedon't:walk a safe track with me. He's got property. He's BOSTWIiK, TiE SQUATTER, AND HS FAMLY. 239 a great man now-a-days. He's bought a plantation here jest alongside the widow's, and who but he, with his niggers and lands. Ha! well! He's played a mighty strong hand in the game, but there's a trump he aint got, and aint guine to git till he agrees to share the stakes. Let him try! He was quite a clever chap among the British. Lord! how they loved one an- other; and he's now to be quite a clever chap among the rebels T Well, it's for me to say, I reckon, how much -love is to be lost atween 'em. Only wait! I'll. wait-jest as long as it suits me. But now for the box." And threading his way out of the swamp with the ease of one who had never walked on freer or firmer ground, he proceeded to the spot in the woods above, not a hundred yards from the-place where the widow's carriage had been brought to a halt, in which the box had been safely hid away. - lie found it even where he sought. He held it up to the-light of the stars. It was aeavy, but it was locked. The key had never been taken from the possession of Mrs. Eveleigh. Her bunch still remained in her pocket. She had not been -earched; but would have been, in all probability, but for the unexpected defeat of the enterprise of the outlaws. But the want of the key suggested no difficulty to our Squatter. At one moment he had lifted"up the box to dash it upon a stump, the short process being always the most grateful to the ruffian for attaining his ob- ject. But he arrested himself. "The guineas will scatter, and I kaint afford to lose the ugliest on 'em." Hew felt for his knife. It was gone-lost. "Never mind!" he muttered, "I kin wait 'till I git to see Ra- chel." Rachel--poor Rachel-his wife! He thought of her at that' moment, not as one whom he loved or cared for; but as the crea- ture from whom he' might find service-obtain the. implement J.* . ' , page: 240-241[View Page 240-241] 240- THE SWORD AND. HE DISTAFF. which should give him access to a more precious treasure. tIe start- ed off with the box under, his arm. His swiftness of footi seemed undiminished by the day's fatigue. He was one of those sinewy, lean, -elastic, beings of iron-hard wood and endurance--who seem never to have enjoyed life, yet are equal to all its requisitions. In training, like most people of the same description of lie in the same region, he. was an Indian-could outrun a horse ir a day's journey, and never appeared to suffer from thirst or hunger. He had short cuts through swamp and thicket, known to few besides himself. and in half the time occupied by our Partisans cn horse, he made his way, on foot, to the swamp margins of the plr ntations of Mrs. Eveleigh and Captain Porgy. Within half a m le stood the wigwam of his wretched family. It occupied a place half hidden in a little clump of woods, near which stretchec a small cornfield of a few acres, the old decaying stalks crumblFng over the spot where they had feebly grown. He again concealed his box; this time in the hollow of a cypress, hen about to emerge -from the cover of the swamp.. He did not approach his own dwelling without the greatest caution. He knew not what sort of customers he was to encounter in the neighbourhood. Winding about the woods wherever a cover could be found, he gradually drew nigh to the rear of the habitation which he skirted mautious- ly, The hum: of the spinning-wheel alone reached his ears from within. He stole up to the habitation and peeped through a cre- vice between the logs. We will follow his example. The wigwam was one of the meanest sort of log-hoilses, not more- than sixteen by twenty feet-built of slender p ne poles, 'which were already greatly decayed. The spaces had b er. closed with clay, but this had mostly fallen out: .Originally, tae house had been clap-boarded (a coarse and inferior siingle) with split pine, and fastened down by wooden pegs. Much of tLe roofing had decayed, and the openings were thatched with rcks of' broom-grass and pine-straw-a very slight and imperfect shelter '. . ^ " ' *1 THE SQUATTER, BOSTWIOK, AND HS FAMLY. 241 for the encounter with our March and September squalls. But there was an additional protection in a great live oak, of a thou- sand generations, which overspread the roof on the northern side, the branches resting upon it, and, when stirred by the wind, mak- ing such a strange scraping along the clap-boards, as if a score of : wild cats were striving to scratch their way, as would have startled one, not familiar with the noise, with a thousand staggering ap- prehensions-particularly at midnight. But our Squatter's family heard nothing, or if they did, the sounds had become conpanion- able, and thus agreeable. ' We are not sure that the wife of the Squatter did not find it a great relief to listen to the disordered branches, in the long, weary pours of the night, when the child- ren were all asleep, but when she could not. The poor, subdued, faint-spirited woman, she sat within, knitting her worsted and cot- ton into thick stockings for the ungrateful wretch who peered, un- suspected, between the logs, and beheld her occupation. She was a thin, frail, pale-faced body, with fair complexion still, of soft, sad eyes, the only remains of a once girlish beauty, Her look almost vacant, was fixed upon the fire. Her dress was of the plainest sort of blue homespun-her own manufacture--but it was scrupulously neat and clean. She seemed to work unconsdious- ly as if from. habit; yet her fingers traversed the needles and passed the threads with the rapidity of one whose whole soul was in the task. At the other corner of the' fire-place, stood her eld- est daughter, whom she called Dory. Her proper name was Do- rothy. It was her spinning-wheel whose song saluted the ears of Bostwick as he approached the house. Dory, although still but twelve years old, was an adept at all her labours. Nobody-it was her mother's boast-could spin better than Dory, a finer or a stronger thread. And Dory could weave also, quite as well as her mother. The child was nearly as strong. Indeed, responsibilities, at an early period, had matured her mind and body very equally. They grew together, and therefore both grew strong. The child 21 page: 242-243[View Page 242-243] 242 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. might have passed for a girl of fifteen, so well was she developed. When you looked at her face she seemed still older-there was such a sad, settled, and profound expression in the sweet s3mme- trical iand chastened features. She was very fair, though he bore the fuel from the woods, and the water from tae springi,. She was tall, and, moving to and fro about the spirning wheel, she exhibited a natural grace such as a humble life like her's seldom , displays. Her hair, a rich auburn, curled and floated free in long silken tresses, having escaped from- the massy folds in wl ich she commonly kept it bound. She,0oo, was clad in the Simplest homespun, and her naked feet and ancles, in consequence of the scantiness of her dress, were conspicuous upon the floor. But the floor was kept tidily clean. If there was poverty in the dwelling, there was evidently a natural purity also, which reconciled the spectator to the scene. The other children of the Squaer, were asleep in a paLlet in one corner of the room. There was no separate apartmert. Dory slept with her mother in the fathers ^absence, anc when Le came home she crouched in with Bet, her younger sister, and Benny, the infant boy. The mother's bedstead, was a rude frale work of pine, clumsily executed by a country carpenter. There was a single pine table in the room, and four chairs, bot;omed w th cow- hide. This was all the furniture. A few' gourds containirg seeds and spices hung against the walls. A shelf outs'de sustanedthe water bucket. In a corner of the fireplace was an iron 1'o't, and in a nook of the chamber was leaned a frying-pan. The f-agment of a mirror, without frame, a trimned bit of glass, of a few 'nches at most each way, was fastened by pegs against one of -,h logs over the fire-place. Such was the picture, lightened up fully by the blaze from half-dozen pine knots, which hissed anc. spark- led in the hearth, giving light -ind heat equally. Tke very poor, in all the South, rarely use -candles, or those of their own making only. The Squatter's wife had her's, it is true, a small ,. " THE SQUATTERB BOSTWICK, AND HS FAMLY. 243 supply, made of tallow and myrtle wax, but these were to be used only on particular occasions. They were made'by Dory, and were too precious to be wasted. But this was' not a considera- tion with Bostwick. 'He consumed them whenever he came- home, with little heed to the poor child whose means-were so small, and whose labours were so heavy. Yet the miserable wretch loved this child as well as he could love any human being-infinitely more than he loved the mother. He wassensible of her beauty- her eye sensibly impressed him. To her he was never brutal, seldom harsh. To all others of the family he was cold or trucu- lent. Something in her glance seemed to impress him with re- spect, if not awe. She did not shrink from, yet did not seek to conciliate him. She felt, and resented by her withdrawal, his bru- talities to her mother. She submitted to his endearments, yet never returned them. Her instincts-shall we not say her thoughts -were all at war with his nature, and the habits in which he in- dulged. She had courage, too, and, never once forgetting that he was her father, she could yet venture upon terms of rebuke and reproach, at moments when his excesses revolted her, such as be- came singularly impressive, spoken by the lips of a child, and in the unsophisticated language of the heart. Still he loved her, af- ter a fashion-loved her with a sort of reverence, as she represent- ed to his eyes that higher phase of society to which he felt that he himself could never aspire, and to which, as is commonly the case with the class to which he belonged; he looked ever with feelings of envy and des're. He announced his presence to the inmates of the hovel, by a peculiar whistle through the logs. The. girl looked quietly at her mother, but said nothing. ;The woman started up, all in a terror and hastened to draw the bolt of the door and give him entrance. "What! Bostwick! You've come?" "Don't; you see me! Well, Dory, -hev' you got nothing to say to me?" page: 244-245[View Page 244-245] 244 ATd SWORD ArND THE DISTAFF. "Howdye, father," and the wheel was stopt, and st-e offered her hand. He kissed her, but not the mother: and frequent re- pulses had taught the latter not to attempt to bestow Aer kisses upowhim. "You're all well, I reckon?" ( Yes i" faintly answered the woman, as she resumeC her seat by the fire, and her knitting, after drawing a chair for hmn. Dory resumed her spinning at the same time. ' What! the d-- l" said he, "a'n't you gu-ne to git me somei supper" - " And he flung himself into the chair, and looked fiercely at the wife. "We hain't got much," replied the woman, meekly, rsing at the same moment .and proceeding to one side of th chimney where some clothes were hanging forming a sort of curtain. "Much or leetle, let's hev' it; rI'm hungry to kill. Got any thing to drink?" "Not a drop, but rll make you some coffee, Sam, ef you'l wait for it." "Wait! Humph! Git it! But first, let me he'v a big knife, ef you've got one, and your tinder-box and steel. "Why, what's become of yours, Sam?" "What's that to you? It's lost somewhere."' "And you've been in the water, Sam'! "Yes; hev' you got any dry clothes for me " "There's the old scarlet breeches of the officer, and the coat, Sam "Won't do; scarlet won't do for my wearing now. Taat time's gone. You must dye them clotles, before I can wear 'em. Dye 'em blue or green, either." ":You come on foot, father?" queried Dory. "Well, ef I did, Dory, I reckon foot was given to me to come on." It THE SQUATTER, BOSTWICK, AND HS FAMLY. 245 "But you hev'nt sold Black Ball?" "Sold him! Yes! Perhaps! a sort of mortgage, I reckon; but what's the matter? Suppose I hev' sold him; who's to ax about the bargain? ' Mind, your own business, child." The girl looked at him, quietly, and the brute turned his eyes upon the fire. He somehow couldn't meet her glance. The moth- er, spreading the table the while, with a rare inexperience, took up the inquisition. "And where's your rifle, Sam? You did'nt bring it with you?" '. "Look you, woman, I didn't come here to answer questions.- Suppose I left horse and rifle in the swamp, it's what I've had to do a thousand times, and I had my reasons for it; only do you recollect, keep your tongue close when you talks to other people about my horse and rife, and about me, too, ef you' please. You don't know how soon you may be axed. And look you, Rachel, when you've got to answer, see that you do it yourself. Don't leave it to Dory. You kain't trust her. She don't love her father enough, to say what may save him from the inimy." ' "But you've got no ilimy now, father. Why should you have an inimy? Don't they say its peace, now?" "Peace! As ef there was any peace for me! I tell you the whole country's sworn agin me, only because I wants to git my living out of it. But that's neiterhere nor there. Youremem- ber, you dont know nothing about me; ef you're axed, you reckon I've left the country. I hain't been here. I've got no black horse I --rememberithat, in preticklar! That's enough! Where's the knife I axed you for " "It's here!" said the mother, handing him a clumsy blade, set in a common wooden handle. He looked at it scornfully. "It's the best we've got;"'said the woman, apologetically. And good enough, too, for all you want with it. Now, git the coffee ready by the time Hgit back." 21* page: 246-247[View Page 246-247] 246 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. With these words, grasping knife, flint, steel aid tende:-oox, he rose and hurriedly left the dwelling, The moment he had disap- peared, the Mqother said-- "I wonder what he's after now. I'm afraid i's no good. Lord, I ef he'd only stay quiet at home, and make cown for his family; but there's no such comfort for us, Dory, I'm afear'd. He s got the habit of going off, and doing God knows what; and we iust only work as we kin, to keep from starvation." The girl was silent for} a space, and the mother, in the teantime, spread the table, got out some cold meat, and kneaded the dough into a hoe-cake, which was set promptly before the firE to bake. She had resumed her seat, when Dory, pausing at her kLeel, re- marked quietly and gently, but with that air of certain;y which truth, simplicity and earnest conviction will inspire, at all times, even in a child, and which crown its words with a degree of au- thority- "I wouldn't be asking father {ny more questions, m ther. It does no good, and only makes him angry. He don't mird what we say, and we can't help it when he loses anything. He's al- ways losing, and coming home poor and want'ng; ani he don't like to tell us how he came to lose. He's in some greait trouble now, and you'd better not speak to him about it. I re Ykon he's not going to stay now he's come; but I would'nt ask him." "Ah, Dory, it's easy for you to talk so; but when I know-when I know " Here the mother sobbed and wiped her eyes with he r apron. What did she know and why did she forbear to declare 't? The girl had no answer and no inquiry. The wheel whiz2ed round more rapidly than ever. The mother spoke again. "It's fifteen years a'most sencelwe were married. TheL he wasi so fond of keeping at home. Then he was'nt so fierce and fret-i ful as he is now. -Then he didn't drink, and there was'nt a more active person, in the world, in the corn-field. Oh! it was a cruel ; ' . I THE SQUATTER'S TREASURES, KNOWN AND UNKNOWN. 247 day when he fell into :he hands of Dick Jeffords-a cruel day. He's never been the same man sence. Dick Jeffords taught him all that he knows of wickedness-taught him to drink-taught him to -- Another pause, and sobbing and wiping of the eyes. "But Dick Jeffords Is dead, mother," said the girl. "Don't you talk so of him." "And why shouldn't I talk of him, when he was the cause of all the mischief----" "Hush! mother!" with a warning finger, said the child, point- ing towards the door. Her keen ears had distinguished the light footstep of the Squatter. The mother stooped to turn her hoe- cake, and the wheel continued its evolutions even more rapidly than ever. CHAPTER XXXIV. THE SQUATTER'S TREASURES, KNOWN AND UNKNOWN. THE Squatter, meanwhile, armed with knife and tinder-box, hurried away to the edge of the swamp, eager to examine his casket of ill-gotten treasures. He drew the box of Mrs. Eveleigh from the hollow of the cypress, and, upon a little bank in the swamp, surrounded by a wall of forest and swamp, thicket, shrubs, vines and trees, he proceeded to strike a light. It required but a few moments after this, to pry open the cover of the box, which was much better suited to a lady's toilet, than for the purpose of keeping or securing a treasure. The guineas were the first objects that compelled his attention. They were contained in a small page: 248-249[View Page 248-249] 248 THE SWORD AND TEIE DISTAFF. linen bag, and -rolled in paper in small sums of ten each. He counted them religiously, and then proceeded to turr over the rest:of the contents of the box, which was pretty closely packed with papers. He was able neither to read nor write. He took for granted that the paper, which McKewn so much desired, was among them, but the point was one beyond his capacity Jo deter- mine. It's here, I reckon, safe with the rest; but won't he pay for it when he gits it." His curiosity was satisfied, if not his cupidity. One would sup- pose that his first act would be to convey to his wife and children a small portion, at least, of the golden spoils in his possession.- But he was too selfish and too wary for that. His cunning did not suffer him to risk, in their hands, any proof that might facili- tate his detection. It seems that some suggestion did arise in his mind, prom'pting him to detach a guinea, to be given to Dory. He spoke of her affectionately, and turned the glittering coin, separated from "his pile," between thumb and forefinger. "But where's the use," he muttered, "and ef they was to ax where she got it, what was she guine to say?" He restored it to the heap, restored the bag to the box, with all the papers, and restored the box to the hollow of the cypress, the base of which was encircled by a thick shrubbery. fThis done, he made his way back to the cottage, where h's suppei of bacon, corn-bread and coffee, already awaited him. He flung -,he knife down upon the table,:anid proceeded to eat, but had scarcely be- gun, when he commanded that the spinning-wheel should stop. "The lasted noise keeps a body from hearing any thing. Ef an inimy was at the door, nobody could know 'tell they bWrsted in." The girl obeyed, put her cotton into the basket, and removed the wheel to,a corner of the room. She then disappeaed behind the curtain of clothes, and when she again came forth,' and drew near-the-fire, he perceived- that she had a book in her hLrd. Dory ' * ' , ' I THE SQUATTER S TREASURES, KNOWN AND UNKNO N. 249 had been taught to read by her mother, and loved her book. The eyes of the Squatter did not suffer her long from sight. "A book!" said he, "and what sort of book is it, you've got ' "It's the Holy Bible, Father." "The Holy Bible;-and what do you know about the Holy Bible, and where did you get it, I want to know? You hain't been spending money, o" your airnings, upon a thing that's no ac- count, hev' you?" 'No, father, 'twas given to me by Mrs. Eveleigh." "Well, she might hev' given you something- to be more useful to you. She's rich; she might hev' given you some good clothes, I'm a-thinking, ef she'd ha' wanted to do a good thing for you. But these great rich folk are all as mean as h-1!" "Mrs. Eveleigh aint mean, father; and she has given me clothes," replied the child. "She has, has she? what! the frock you've got on, I reckon." Nj o, I made that myself. She's given megood clothes, to wear when I go out, an. on a Sunday." "Sunday! as ef there ever was a Sunday for a poor man! Let me look at the book." She handed it to him without a word, and he turned i; over curiously. It was not a costly book; had it been-had the edges been of gold, and the back richly adorned with the same metal- it is quite probable that the perverse wretch would have been tempted to throw it into the fire. As it was, he thrustit back into the child's hands, saying-- "And what's the gooc. of it to you 8 You kain't understand it even ef you reads it." "Oh! yes I can, father." "Let me hear you read some-thar', jest where the paper's been turned down. I'll see ef you ain't been reading how to curse your own daddy." The child gave him but a single look, but it made him restless. page: 250-251[View Page 250-251] 250 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. i He could not meet the clear, calm glance fixed upon his own. He turned his gaze upon the fire, but repeated- "Read, I say,-let's hear what sort of bible l'arn'ng you're a-gitting. Read where you've put the mark.-That a iawn's own children should turn agin him " The child gave him another look, so simple, so exp essive-of a calm, unspeaking, submissive sorrow, the most touching of all sorts of reproach: then, turning to the book she beg n to read from the New Testament, the Acts of the Apostles, thei lrst chap- ter, just where the leaf had been turned down; but scarcely had she got through three paragraphs, when the Squatter sarted up, having by this time finished eating, and, swallowing a pint of cof- fee at a gulph, he cried out-- "That's enough! iIt's mighty good, what you're reading, I'm a-thinking, for a gal child. But it's no use. There's no apostles, now-a-days. At least, I never hear tell of any merracles now, or I reckon I might have a chance of being saved myself. But, with- out a merracle, I'm pretty much past saving, so it's no ise to try. Shut up, Dory; you kin read to your mammy rfter I'm gone. I must be off." i "What!" cried the poor mother, "you're not a guine, Sam, at this late time o' night." "And what should I stay for? Don't I know there's none of you hev' any love to spare for me here." i "Oh! don't say so, Sammy:- don't!" "Pooh! Git out! Don't suppose I'm fool as well as scamp. You're too full of good books, and good women here, tc have any likings for sich as me. Kiss me, Dory, you're la good hild for a gal. I don't say you shan't read the book the widow give you, only I don't care. You my read, for the good 'twill co you.- 'Twont do me none. Blast all the gifts of your rich peoCpe. They only burn the heart out. What's good you kin git out of them, is what you kin take! I'm off;--and look you, Rachel, mind i - -i THE SQUATTER'S TREASURES, KNOWN, AND UNKNOWN. 251 what I say. Ef you're axed, you don't know nothing about me. You ain't seed me you don't know when, and, as for a horse, you don't reckon I've had one for a year, not sence the blasted men of Harden carried off my, bay trotter. Blast all their two legs for- ever for it. Don't you let Dory say nothing. She don't know how to speak sensible in such cases. Good-bye, Dory." And he was gone-gone out into the darkness-lost to sight as to hope. Not another word of kindness or farewell. None, in fact, to the poor woman who followed him to the door, as if en- treating for it. Not even a glance to the poor children sleeping on the pallet, the eldest of whom, awakened by the unusual voices, raised herself up in the bed, and looked, but did not dare to make herself heard. She had old experience of blows, suddenly and sharply administered, to admonish her against any childlike and' loving forwardnesses. Besides, the watchful mother had seen, and pushed her back, under the scanty covering, with- "Lie still, Ben, it's pappy!" Dreadful sound with Which to quiet the baby! the baby was quiet for the rest of the night. But he was gone, and then the woman sate down and wept over the fire-place. "Ef he had only shaken hands, Dory, and told me good-bye, my child; but no! He wouldn't care ef I was on my cooling board to-morrow." The girl began quietly to read the chapter in the Acts which she had attempted at her father's binding, and her low, soft voice, still that of a child, delivered the inspired sentences in good time, and with very tolerable discretion, but without emphasis, and with the simplicity of one who did not fully comprehend what she was reading. When she had finished and put away the book, the mother said- "I know it's good to hear and to read the blessed book, but my heart ain't in it, I doL't feel it at all. I feel only that I am a very great sinner, very poor and miserable." , s I . page: 252-253[View Page 252-253] 25.2 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. "W:e must pray now, mother, you know." And: the two dropt'upon their knees, while the chil alone au- dibly uttered Our Father." Let us leave thenm to such sleep as God vouchsafes to the suf- ferer, more sinned against than sinning, and follow the footsteps of the 'Squatter, reckless of the peace he outrages,i an4 quite incapable of conceiving the purity he leaves behind hin. i "Acts of the Apostles," quoth he, as he darted forward in the direction of the highlands. "They sarved for their time. There's no Apostles now, I reckon, to do any more acts for pbor people. Sich as preaches to us now, don't help much. Lord! what war- mints. I've hearn a hundred that hadn't any more sense, and i reckon, warn't no better, ef the truth was known, thait myself.-- They talk and they talk, about it and about it, and all what they says, don't consarn us at all, and don't suit. One speaks mighty big about luxuries and fine linen, yit I never seed one yit that warnt ready to swig the best of liquors at" a rich man's table, and to eat ontell he was ready to burst; and which of 'em ever refused the best of English broad-cloth for his back. Therel was Joe Downs, and Ephraim Sparkin, and Jake Frisbie, and, a hundred more I've know'd, that was all jest too lazy for any wirk, and so they-set up to be apostles; living front house to house, never pay- ing for nothing; never refusing good feed and liqudr, and jest talking things they didn't know. No! the days for Apostles is at an eend, and men does jest what ac-s suits 'em best. So I does mine. 'Taint so good as it mout be, but ef Hcan git tack the old Black, with fifty gould guineas in hand, and what I kin squeeze out of McKewn, I'll do for awhile yit. It's aresk to try, but what's to-be- done? I shan't walk when I kin ride, anI ef I take, it's only my own," Such were the meditations which, led to the attemnpt of the Squatter. We- have seen how it succeeded. Once mounted, though with the pistol bullets of Lance Frampton whistling about o . HOW MLLHOUSE REBUKES THE EXTRAVAGANCE OF PORGY. 253 his ears, and he felt his strength and courage equally increase. He never thought to return to the cottage. He felt very sure that it would soon have a score of visitors. He had striven hard for dis- guise and concealment, but his instinct aught him that he would be suspected. The neighbourhood would be quite too hot, in a few hours, for his safety. He gave it a wide berth, accordingly, and making a circuit, which carried him far above the miserable hovel which his family occupied, he proceeded to descend the country, making f n oblique progress towards the Edisto.- Let us return to Porgy and his party. ChAPTER XXXV. HOW MLLHOtISE REBUKES THE EXTRAVAGANCE OF PORGY. THE poor woman, tie wife of the Squatter, was half-scared to death when she saw the squad of our partisan approach her dwel- ling. She at once cor-jectured that the Squatter had been at his old tricks, and that the enemy was upon his footsteps. Cadave- rously pale, trembling in every limb, she staggered to her bedside, and sank upon it, faintly exclaiming as they approached the house- "Oh! Dory, they've come after him." "Lie down, mother, and let me speak to the gentlemen," said the little girl. "You, DoyT! oh, no! You remember he told me, you were ,Jnot to speak at all. Come back from the door, I tell you. Don't i ou say a word." "But you musn't look so scared, mother. They'll think some- thing wrong if you're so pale and trembling. Don't be afraid.-.- 22 page: 254-255[View Page 254-255] 254 THEE SWORD AND TH.3 DISTAFF, We haven't done anything wrong, and we don't know any thing of father's doings," "Hush, child, you musn't be talking. There they come. Oh! my God, what is to becomen of us '" "Don't be afear'd mother! God won't let them hurt us." "Oh I how do you know, Dory?" - "I believe, mother." "Believe! oh-! yes, you'll believe aiything, even though the soldiers kill us and carry us to prison. :o ome back from the door; I tell you. I'l open it. I'll answer all they ax." The child drew away, and rested her elbows upon the table, as the party approached the house. A rather heavy knock, thrice repeated, threw the mother into a new passion of terror. She wrung her hands. "Lord have mercy!- What shall we do?" "Open the door, mother, or let me do it. I'm sure these peo- ple ain't going to hurt us. One of them is Mr. Fordham, and he's a good man, you know." "Mr. Fordham; is it?" in a whisper, and, somewhat reassured, rising and smoothing her apron.' "To be sure, Mr. Fordham's always been our friend." Another knock,;and the voice of Fordhap-- "It's me-it's ' friend, Mrs. Bostwick." The poor. woman. took courage. The door was opened, and Fordham, without,.stood in front of the party. He had alighted from his steed, and held him by the bridle. Porgy was in they act of letting himself down; a perfolmance, with him, usually to be classed among his most deliberate acts. Millhouse kept his saddle,. The negroes were grouped in the rear. It was a most formidable party, still, in the eyes of the Squatter's wife. The girl, Dory, looked on with some curiosity, but with the saddest possible look of resignation. Porgy and Fordham threw the bri- dles of their steeds. to thep negroes, and proceeded to enter the - . HOW MLLHOUSE REBUKES THE EXTRAVAGANCE OF PORGY. 255 dwelling at the invitation of the hostess, who was tremulous with solicitude. "This is Captain Porgy, Mrs. Bostwick-perhaps you may re- member him before he went into the army." "I've seed the Captain," said she humbly, "but can't say that I should recollect himl." "Very likely, my cear madam," responded the Captain cour- teously, taking off his cap, and entering. "In the last five years I've grown out of my own knowledge-one of thefew men of the army, madam, who fattened on starvation. Your daughter, Mrs. Bostwick." "Dory, sir, my oldeSt." ' Dory! Is that her name?" "For short, Captain. Her given name is Dorothy." Porgy took the offe ed hand of the child, and looked to Ford- ham significantly. Fordham nodded his apparent affirmation.- Porgy, still holding the child's hand, proceeded to seat himself on a chair which the officious hands of Mrs. Bostwick put beside him. Dory had already perused the lines of his countenance, which, not wanting in manly beauty, though with some defects, was at the same time benevolent and even tender in expression. His eyes, small, but fu'l of life, were also distinguished by good nature, and his mouth was similarly marked. The child felt at ease as she surveyed h's face. A single glance sufficed for this., He was no ruffian, than she felt sure; that he was a gentleman by birth ad- education, her instincts at once assured her. The fact was sufficiently prled by the ease with which he ispired confi- dence in both mother fnd daughter. Our Captain was quite as observant of Dory'sfeatures as she had been of his. The singular beauty of the child struck him at a glance, and compelled consid- eration. She resembled her mother very ittle. Who could she resemble'. Was her fathers face like hers Could that- ruffian and outlaW' wear anything in his countenance, like the serene page: 256-257[View Page 256-257] 256 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. sweetness, the etherial loveliness that formed the life of that pale but glowing aspect? The thing was impossible. The conjecture was expelled from his thought the moment it sought to enter. Meanwhile,-For ham: had broached the special object of their visitation to the anxious woman, by asking for the whereabouts of her husband: Her apprehensions were renewed; her tremors became visible., Dory struggled out of the hands of Porgy, and imme- diately placed herself beside her motheri The-action and its mo- tive, so prompt and so instinctive, at once afforded to our Captain a clue to the strong moral courage and propriety of the child. The question of Fordham showed'the visit tobe one of quasi hos- tility. The party was to be confronted not embraced. The moth- er, in her moment of danger, must have the full support of her children. They were not to give countenance to those who threatened a father's safety, however erring. Of course, such tioughts as these formed no argument for the unripened mind of the child; but the unerring instincts of a -ightly placed, and rightly sympathetic heart, sufficed to bring about the instant conviction just as certainly as if it -had been produced by thought and reason. Porgy saw it all. "(Qome back to me, Dory," said h mildly, extending his hand. "You are not afraid of me?" She looked into his face, and immediately returned to him. Con- fidence, was reinspired-in consequence of the sudden activity of other instincts; and the Captain had her again, a moment after, seat- upon his knee.' In the meanwhile, it was-apparent that Mrs. Bostwick either 'would not, or could not, give any account of her husband. She was evidently greatly frightened, answered wildly, and was seemingly so much distressed, that Porgy interposed for her relief. "It does not matter, Fordham. Mrs. Bostwick evidently knows nothing of her husband-and we know nothing, Mrs. Bostwick; but we thought it possible that he might, from his knowledge of Ot'it PossibleI that 'he owl * I , j I , HOW MLLHOUSE REBUKES THE EXTRAVAGANCE OF PORGY. 25' the people. of the country, and the country itself, put us on the track of a band of outlaws who were guilty of a great outrage yesterday." "Yesterday, Captain? asked the woman-in renewed terror, and looking wildly to Dbry. "Yes, madam, yesterday! They waylaid that excellent lady, Mis. Eveleigh, her son 'ad Mr. Fordham; seized them; tied the lady to her carriage, captured her wagon, and no doubt would have robbed and killed all the party, if I had not providentially come to their rescue, with a few friends, at the last moment." "'Lord save us! and yesterday!" "We defeated the rufians, and four of them were slain." "Oh! my. God! Did I ever- !" ' "We captured their horses; yet, such was the audacity of the surviving ruffians, that they ventured, one or more of therp, even to my dwelling last night, and carried off one of the best of the captured horses." "You don't say?" "Yes, madam; a large raw boned black!" "A black!" and the conscious mother grew paler, and looked to Dory. The child was pale also, but the features were motionless. They said nothing. '"Now, Mrs. BostwicK, we thought that your husband might possibly---" "Oh! I'm sure, Captain, he don't know nothing about it. He's had no horse for a year, that I've seed, and where he is, there's no telling. It ain't ofteh we sees him at home. He's away all the time, ontell his own children hardly knows him when he comes." Porgy looked ito 'Do0'y's face with an expression that won the child's sympathies at once. His look, involuntarily seemed to say, 'can it be possible that w2e is indifferent to such. a dear innocent, such a pure, bright bud of the wilderness as this? But he'said 22* page: 258-259[View Page 258-259] 258 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. nothing, and suffered the mother to proceed in a series of ramb- ing denials and disclosures which only served to pro:e to both Porgy and Fordham, that the woman really knew more of the husband and his recent operations than she so solemnly declared. Of course, neither of them suspected her of any, share in his pro- ceedings, or any sympathy with them. Fordham had already put our partisan right in. his estimate of thel existing relations between husband and wife, and of the humble heart, and honest character of the latter. l The overseer, baffled in his effort to ascertain from the mother anything with regard to the recent visits of the Squatter, now ad- dressed himself to the daughter. .. "And when did you see your daddy last, Dory?" The child turned her eyes quietly to the querist, but before she could reply, Porgy exclaimed- - UNo! no! Fordham! That won't do! Enough! If Mrs. Bostwick don't know, and hasn't seen, how should the little girl? But I have sonie questions to ask you, Dory, and you must answer me e" And he looked into her eyes with a look which taught her that there was no snare, no danger. ! You spin, I hear, Dory, and weave, and knit, and sew, and do a great many clever things. Now I'm in great want : of sewing, spiining, weaving and knitting. :I want woolen cloth, and cotton cloth, and thread, Dory, and a great supply of stockings. See what big- foot I've got-two feet, you see, and both of them- are in great straits for want of clothing. Will you k-nit for me, Dory, and spin for me, when I beg you? I shall want both you and your mother's help in fitting up my poor establishment. I am no longer a soldier; and am about to become a planter again, and you know what a planter wants. NoW, my dear, to begin-I must havte as many pair of stockings as mamma and your- self can knit for me between :his and July. And you must let I O ( SOW MLLHOUSE REBUKES THE EXTRAVAGANCE OF PORG,. 259 me pay you for them in advance, that T may make sure that you will do the work. Here , te this,Dory," thrusting a guinea into her hand, "and Lere is a kiss by way of seal to the contract." The little girl took the money without a word, but her eyes in- stantly filled with tears, and she suffered her head to dec on' Porgy's shoulder. He kissed her again, and put her down, and- she immediately walked across the room to her mother, and laid the guinea mn her lap, aLd stood, during the rest of the visit with her hand leaning on her mother's chair. The good woman was loud in her acknowledgempents.. -"God bless you, sir" she said,"you're-very good to us. Dory shall work for you; she kin knit jest as well as I." "She must do my stockings," quoth Porgy, only she. You mus'nt touch them. I must have the satisfaction, owhen I wear ' them, of knowing-that she made them. I shallfind work for you, too, Mrs. Bostwick. You shall hear from me when I want you. ood-bye ,ma'am you are a good woman, and ought to be more comfortable in the world. Good-bye, Do don't forget me."' The child came up, and offered him her. hand, which he took, then stooping, kissed her again, took a respectful leave of the mother, and led the way out of the house. Fordham followed, but not before the wife of the Squatter contrived to say- "Oh Mr. Fordtam, t11ll Mrs. Eveleigh, that T'm so sorry she was robbed and troubled on the road. -I'm so very sorry." And she looked as if she felt that she herself was greatly to blame in the matter; thus satisfyingthe shrewd overseer, that she was well aware of, or at least -suspected, her husband's share in the transaction. When they had mounted their horses, and were out of hearing of the house, Fordham said to Porgy- "Ef you hadn't stopt me, Captain, I reckon we'd ha' got out o' Dory all about her father's" coming, ef so be he had come there." Yes, answered Porgy, " or she would have been made to lie about it, and would thusI have spoiled the prettiest mouth in page: 260-261[View Page 260-261] 260 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. the world. No! no! Fordliam. We must not demand of the child the evidence against the parent. I was not unwilling that you should ask the mother; though, after the thing was begun, I felt that there was a degree of meanness about it, which made me feel a little ashamed. Still it was desirable to have the truth, and the- wife of such a husband, might be supposed to be some- what used to lying for him, and to be a little blunted in her sensi- bilities. But that child. -She is the very picture of innocence as well as loveliness.- Isn't it a wonderful thing that such a child should be born to such parents. How strangely will the perfect plant, the most beautiful flower, exquisite in excellence, and ad- mirable in hues, spring up on the common dunghill. She ought to be plucked from it with all haste, and reared in a garden to herself. Fordham could not altogether perceive the propriety of Porgy's refinements. He thought his philosophy a little too strained for common use, but he was silenced by it. But Porgy was not to get off so easily. He was now grappled with by no less a person than his Sergeant, Millhouse, who, sitting on horseback, atthe entrance, throughout the interview, had been a curious but silent spectator of the, scene. He suddenly turned upon his superior, and said - "Cappin, you gin a guinea to the gal to make you stockings! a whole guinea!" "To be sure! Well! what of it, Millhouse " "Why, Lord love you, Cappin, that ought to buy stockings enough for a rigiment. Why four shillings would git you as manry for your own wear, as would last you from now to Christ- mas." "'Very likely, Millhouse. But, in truth, I did'not give the guinea for the stockings. I gave it-for the child to buy her own stockings, if need be, or whatever else she needs. I gave it from my heart, Millhouse, and not from my pocket." - 4 - HOW MLLHOUSE REBUKES THE EXTRAVAGANCE OF PORGY. 261 "Oh! ay! I see! It was a sort of charity then, Cappin." Well, I suppose you may call it so." "Of course, there's no eend to the supply where that came from! Lord be marciful to them who ain't marciful to them selves! You'll want all of them guineas before long. But I reckon you've had jist sich a dream as poor 'Lisha Dayton, that s'arved with us at Georgetown, and was killed at that blasted skrimmage, at Quinby, where we lost so many good fellows." "And what sort of dream had Elisha " "Why you see, 'Lisha was always dreaming of good luck and finding fortunes, though, poor fellow, he had precious small chances of luck at any time that ever I heard tell of. But when -we were at camp 'pon the High Hills, he somehow got hold of a pair of pretty good boots, only a leetle worn only, that he tuk from a British ELsign that he brought down-with a bullet on a scout. The boots was too fine for 'Lisha to wear, so he agreed to sell them to Lieutenant Withers for nine shillings, in the raal sil- ver. The boots were worth a great deal more, but that was all the money the Lieutenant had, and there was nobody else about that had any. So 'Lisha 'greed to take the nine shillings; and with that money Jingling in his pockets, the poor fellow thought he'd got the worlc itself in a string, and the two eends of the string both in his own fingers. He thought so much about it that he was constantly dreaming of buried money and all sorts of great discoveries. One c ay he come to me; says he-' Millhouse, I've had the *same dream three nights running. It must be true. I'm sure on it. It's of a great heap of money buried on the Block House Hill. I seed the hill in my dream, and the very trees, jest how they stand, above the place where the money lies. I wants you to go with me and git it.' Says H' I don't b'lieve in dreams.' Says he, ' bt this is a true one. I'd take bible oath on it, I'm sure. And ef you'll go with me and help dig, and let nobody else know, Ill give you a whole quarter of the pile, and page: 262-263[View Page 262-263] 262 " THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. the pile is a mighty 'big one.' Says H 'Lisha, them-dreams is say only making a great fool of you. And then he swore, and he an wads so sart'in sure of it, and he begged so hard with me to go and the help him, that I cohdueded to go; but says H"Lisha, as I tell and youi, I doi't b'Iieve in dreams, and if you'll agree to give me mo them nime shillings, in hand, that you're a jingling in youi pocket hill now, 'll give p:p the quarter that you offer me out of-the buried but pile.' When 'e heard that, he was a leettle Slow to- answer.-- it ' Then,"says I, 'you don't b'lieve in your own dreams arter all." shi Th hen he wore a most outrageous big oath,: and he said, 'it's a t bargain.' So - made him give up the shillings, and I jingled 'em upo in my pockets all the way we went; and he pushed fora'd, pretty fr fast ahead, for now he did'nt seem to like the sound the shillings hea made when they were in my pocket and iiot his own. 'We had both of us pick and'shovels; and sure enough he led 'zackly to the a place as he seed it in his dream; and the 'tarnal fool had gone Dua there before midmday by his own self. 'Well,' says I, "Lisha, where shill we strike ': 'Thar,' saidhe, 'that's the 'zact place.' an Anid into it I Went with the pick. And into it he went, like a strong man.' And we picked the earth loose, and the roots, and we shovelled and thiew out the naked yellow clay, jest as God had got put it' there, m'aybe, a million of hundred years before, until we both sweated like an overseer's horse in fly time. At the eend of two of the longest hours I ever know'd in my life, 'Lisha jumped el out of- the hole, anda says he with a laugh-' What a blasted fool the I am to b'lieveiin a d- ddream! 'So youare,'saysI. 'It's pik no use,' says he, 'there's no pile to share. I see it now. And so, comD as there's no treasure, illhouse,"' says he--the bloody fool!-- 'you must givme e ack my shillings.' And as he said, I jest bu dropped pick and spade, and put my fingers to the corner of my g eyes, and I said-' Look here, 'Lisha, ef you sees gooseberries any Where in-them two eyes.' ' hy,' says he, 'as we hai'nt found any mon, money, you ain't guine to keep my shillings ' ' Ain't I, then,' an m ney, ii s. IOW MTTLHOUSE REBUKES THE EXTRAVAGANCE OF PORGY. 263 says I. 'The speculation in the dream, was your own, 'Lisha, and I worked only for the sartainty of the thing. You kin keep the pile when you find it, but I'll keep the pile I've found already;' and I confess to you,,'Lisha, I'm better pleased to diog for my' money in a fool's pocket, than in the side of -a d-d hard clay hill like this !' Lord ! how he did rip and tear, curse and swear; but 'twant no use. I had the shillings, and he soon l'ained that it would call for bigger curses than was in his body, to draw the shiners out of my pockets. He gin it up at last, and then I said to him 'you ain't fit to keep money; 'Lisha, but I won't be hard upon you. Here's. three' of your shillings back, jest enough foryou to jingle. They'll make all the music you desarves to hear." ' . ' And, at the close, the recollection of his achievement prompted a glorious burst of cacchination from the throat of our military financier. ' A good story, Millhouse, and excellently told," quoth Porgy; "and, pray, how will you apply it to our present purpose ?" "Why, easy enough, Cappin! Don't you see, ef you've got a dream like 'Lishe Dayton, of a pile of treasure somewhar', to be got only for the diggin', t'wont be onreasonable or onrighteous, if ypu let me jingle in my pockets the rest of them guineas in your'n." "Humph!" muttered Porgy--"It would, perhaps, be just as well, Millhouse, if I did; but, with your permission, I'll wait for the dream. Be sure of this, my good fellow, that while you wield pick and shovel, in getting in my treasure, you shall be quite wel- come to share my shillings, nor shall I envy you their jingle." "Don't I know that, Cappin ? 'Taint for myself I'm a-speaking, but jest for you and your gettings. I'm afeard you'll want every guinea that you waste." " Don't mistake, Millhouse. I waste no guineas. When I give money, it is only that I may get a good interest for it. The true man, Millhouse, does not live by money, nor by that which money page: 264-265[View Page 264-265] 264 T THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. -will always buy,--bread and meat. There is still better food than that for which I more hunger; andvyet-I know not the man living who has a better appetite for good living than myself." Fordham had been a quiet listener to this conversation, and seemingly quite aninterested one, but he now arrested it by recur- ring to what had been one of the objects of the expedition-to find, if possible, the route which th'e outlaw had taken who had carried off the horse. l "There's no tracks," said he, "about the cabin, only those made by our own horses. I reckon he hain't been to see his-family on horseback; tholgh I'm thinking his old woman has seed him sence the attack yisterday. She show'd it by the scare we gin her. He's not gone back after he got the horse. He's too 'cute for that. We shan't see ihim back, in these parts, I'm a-thinking, 'tilD its all pretty much blown over." Still the search was made. The party traversed the region, along all the avenues which it was possible for the outlaw to pur. sue, assuming him to have steered' f'or the cottage. But they found no traces. And this was no vague search. Nobody, who does not know the woodman of the South, can conceive the excel- lence of his eye in discovering the slightest traces upon the ground, or through the forest, of the objects which he pursues. On horse- back, at a smart canter, he will pull up, dismount, and show you where the deer or turkey has gone by, perhaps the night before, He can, with very great approach to certainty, say what interval has-elapsed since the passage of the prey. His instincts are those of, the Indian. Taught in the same school, his eye and ear are wonderfully keen, quick and discriminating. Knowing the quali ties of. our. woodmen,'the report of Fordham, Firampton or Mill- house, on matters of this sort, would always be quite conclusive to our Captain of Partisans. But it was sunset before the scouting was arrested. At that period, they reached the dwelling of Porgy, and Fordham was readily persuaded to stay to supper. I PLAY AND PAY. 265 (a CHAPTER XXXVI. PLAY AND PAY. IT does not need that we should accompany the Squatter, Bost- wick, on his course to and along the Edisto, pursuing the down- ward route until it brought him within sight of the ocean. Enough that we find him there 'n safety after a little interval of time.- But there was one adventure, however, which occurred to him on the road, and within seven or eight miles only of the spot where he had engaged to mee; with McKewn, and to bring the negroes and the papers, should Le prove successful in his attempt upon the cavalcade of the widow ,Eveleigh. Stopping'at a hovel on the road-side, for refi'eshmeript, he was surprised to come upon the fel- low, Tony Hines, the only other surviving member of the gang which he led on that occasion.: Tony, it will be remembered,- had succeeded in saving himself, when pursued by Porgy and Corpo- ral Millhouse, by taking! to the swamp fastnesses before the two Partisans had got within striking distance. His terrors in the flight had been such as' to prompt him to such desperate efforts as to kill his horse; when he resumed farther flight on foot, never stopping on his downward. route until it became physically impos- sible to proceed farther.! I Flight, fatigue, the .want of food, and perhaps an already diseased condition of the body, had resulted in a burning fever, and, in utter exhaustion, he had sought shelter and succour in a cabin whose inmates -could afford but little of either. It'was here that Bostwick found him stretched on a mis- erable pallet of straw in [a state of extreme suffering. Physic and physicians were not to be had in that sparsely'settled region. The patient died or lived according to the strength of his constitution,. or the decree of Providence. "' Yairb (herb) Tea," was the only 23 page: 266-267[View Page 266-267] 266- THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. remedy of the poor and simple population, and of this sylvan remedy, the good woman of the hovel was willing to provide any quantity, and did pour it down the throat of the sick man, till he turned from her with loathing; and he hailed the appearance of Bostwick with a yell of delight, as it seemed to promise him whatthe old people had denied-a draught of cold water. Bost- wick would have supplied him from the bucket, but the old wo- man interposed with hands and tongue. "It'll be the derth of him, stranger. It'll check the perspira- tion, and give him a chill to kill him." "Let my old woman alone," quoth the husband, "she knows how to doctor fever." And the Squatter withheld the beverage from the burning lips of the: patient. "But what in the world's name brought you here, Tony?" Bostwick curiously demanded. Rogues are naturally suspicious of each other, and, finding the fugitive directly on; the route to the secret place of meeting with McKewn, and only a few miles from it, the Squatter began to conjecture that there had been some con- nexion between the two, which had been withheld from him.- McKevn, so far asihe knew, had never seenTony. He had al- so-been earnest 'in his injunctions to keep his creatures from all knowledge of'the party by. whom he had been employed. The Squatter, fully assured of the dishonest and deceitful character of McKewn, now strove by a series of circuitous inquiries to probe the fugitive outlaw, and- it was only after a long cross examina- tion, carried on with very excellent skill, tiat he arrived at the conclusion, that, in taking the route which he had pursued, Tony had no other purpose than that of throwing as much breadth of swamp and forest between, himself and his pursuers, as was possi- ble, and that he really" knew nothing of the Scotchman. Satis- fied finally of this, the Squatter promised to do for him what he could; to try -and ,procure physic and assistance; and, commend- .... '4 PLAY AND PAY. 267 ing him to nature and the old people who sheltered him, left him to the chapter of accidents. We must not suppose that he aban- doned him indifferently. It was not in his power, in fact, to give him either help or consolation. He knew of no reme- dies, being one of that class of -persons who never had leisure for sickness. Nor, even if succour could have been bought, had he the means in money for the purchase. He had left behind him, in his cypress hollow, the strong-box of Mrs. Eveleigh, with all his ill-gotten treasure, as well as the much valued paper. A few shil- lings sufficcd him for the expenses of the route, and he looked for the replenishing of his purse to the meeting with McKewn. He left his comrade accordingly, but not without promising to bring him medicine and money on his return, which he told him would not be long delayed. When he got to the place appointed for his meeting with McKewn, the latter had not yet made his appear- ance; but he was soon joined by Barton and Drummond, persons of the brotherhood, who acted as agents for McKewn, and who shared his spoils. They reported the transport sloop to be in waiting, standing off and on, and to be brought in, in a couple of hours, by a signal which had been agreed on with the Captain. "But where's the niggers, Bostwick " demanded Drummond. "Niggers " . "Yes; McKewn expected you to bring down fifteen or twenty." "McKewn expects other men to do things he kaint do him- self." "Why, that's pretty much the way with most people. But have you got any?" "Well, we must talk over them things another time. I must eat and drink now. I'm a'most famished. I haint had a decent mouthful of anything for three days." "The devil! Well, we can provide you. We're well off here. Plenty of the good stuff-raal Jamaica, and as much grub-as would feed a regiment. Let's be off to the castle." page: 268-269[View Page 268-269] ;8 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. "Castle !" "Ay, what you may call a castle, it's so hard to be got at; but if you look fora anything better than a canvass tent, in a deep swamp, you're dreaming to no purpose. Come along. - Barton will stay here and meet McKewn, and bring him along.- He'll be here after nightfall." Drummond, one of the confederates, was the speaker, and he led the way, on foot, to-his swamp castle, which lay deeply imbed- ded in tangled thickets near one of the mouths of the Edisto.- Bostwick kept on horseback as long as he could. A few minutes riding lost them the cool, fresh breezes of the sea. Soon, they were buried in a dense region in which the air seemed to sleep like a lake in the hollows of the mountains. But the change was not a disagreeable one at that season of the year. In a little while, ignorant of the locality, you would have fancied yourself any where but near the ocean, all was so still, so utterly confined and shut in, and with the horizon within finger reach. A blind path showed the way imperfectly, winding circuitously through lagune and thicket. At length, the two ascended a slight eleva- tion, and, through the shrubbery, Bostwick caught glimpses of the dingy canvass which formed the tent of the confederates. They were now within the walls of " the castle;" a castle, indeed, of a magnificence such as the works of art, in the hands of man, has never yet displayed. The bank upon which the tent stood was crowned withaged oaks, that spread themselves out like great green canopies, covering all within their reach; their white beards trailing to the earth, or sweeping in the wind, like those of the Druid Bards, howling-their song of hate and death in the ears of the tyrant Edward, as describeq in the much undervalued ode of Gray-a production very far superior, in all poetic respects, to the over-lauded elegy of the same writer.- Our live oaks are certainly patriarchal presences when we find them of an age beyond the memory of man. These, in the castled keep of our confederates, PLAY AND PAY. 269 almost within sight of the ocean, and within the influence of its salt atmosphere, would have thrown into comparative insignificance, the 'castled crags of Drachenfell's,' placed in close neighbourhood with them. But they were not alone. If the oak is the Druid priest, the ancient pa;riarch, the Magnolia is the crowned king of the forest. There were three of these sovereign forms within thirty feet of each other, and alternating among the oaks, on the bank where the tent of the outlaws-for such, in fact, they were- had been raised. Not one of these trees was less than an hundred and fifty feet in height, their great shafts rising up like columns, straight as an arrow, and bare of foliage for more than a hundred feet, then swelling into a mighty crown of green, darkly bright, which the hands of May would enliven, not enrich, with the purest of her great white flowers. Myrtle and cane, the honeysuckle and jessamine, and dog-wood, not yet in bloom, or even brighten- ing, grew, and were gladdened in the shadow of these protecting potentates; while the billows of the sea, at the height of the tide, wound in among the creeks, and freshened the hollows, even to the roots of these' princes of the forest, whom they were insidious- ly to undermine in season. But the Squatter had no eye for these objects. With him, as with most of the ignorant, a tree is a tree only; and in a region which boasts of such a wilderness of trees, the most noble is but little valued-is cut down and cast into the fire without remorse on the smallest occasion. Bostwick regarded the natural aspects of the spot only with reference to their uses for the shelter of -the fugitive. He was not insensible to this feature of-the ' castle.'- But the tent and wha; it contained more certainly appealed to his tastes. He was conducted into it by Drummond. Here they found an old negro woman, a withered crone of sixty, who-appear- ed to busy herself in cleaning pots and rinsing kettles. Of these utensils there may have been' half-a-dozen strewed about. There was no table, or chair, or bed in the tent, but one or two boxes,, 23* page: 270-271[View Page 270-271] 270 THE SWORD AND \THEI DISTAFF. and a pile of cloaks and blankets;s'rved to show how the inmates garmented themselves for sleeping. A capacious jug was visible, standing on the grouWl, which Drummond bade the old woman replenish with fresh water. A neighbouring spring enabled her to do this in a few seconds, for the woman was brisk though old, and moved about with very juvenile celerity. Whether through love or terror, her rulers had taught her equal docility and activi- ty. When she returned with the water, Drummond threw open the box, and revealed Several huge square bottles of Jamaica,- the great liquor of the low country during this period, and for a goodly time after. To drink, was a tling of course. It was the initiatory process in those days of all society, high and low, of the palace and the hovel. Bostwick enjoyed the double advan- tage of an incorrigible head and an eager taste. He was one not easily satisfied, and not easily suffering. Drummond was by no means a milk-sop either, and the draught was repeated no less than three times in the half hour which the two employed, cast upon the earth, and. chatting together, we may suppose, of the joys of knavery, and the luxury of sin. After a while, Barton made his appearance, just about dark. He was followed by a couple of sailors bringing in fish. Candles were lighted within the tent, and a fire was kindled without. Around this, the woman proceeded to prepare supper. "I wonder what keeps McKewn?" queried Bostwick., "Oh! he'll be here directly. 'Taint time for him yet. But let's he doing something till supper is ready." "Well, I'm consenting ;" replied Bostwick, readily comprehend- ing what the something meant. ' Hev' you any books?" Books meant cards in the vernacular of the forest. "We'd be without our salvation if we had'nt," was the answer of Barton. Drummond, meanwhile, pulled out from the fathom- less bowels of the box, a paper containing several well-thumbed packs. PLAY AND PAY. 271 It is curious that all pri'mitive periods, in all countries, are dis- tinguished by the passion for gaming and drinking, and by such a degree of invention as will enable men to gratify both. The fact illustrates the necessity of the race for mental exercise, and for the excitement of the nervous system. And this is in what we vulgarly and ignorantly call a state of nature, as if man, who is a born creature of art, ever knew such a condition, in the sense in which nature is commonly understood. But we must not phi- losophize, having to deal with our present company. 'What shall be the marks?" demanded Drummond, throwing himself down beside the two, and spreading the cards before them. !"Ontell I see McKewn, and git some money, I shill have to run upon mighty small marks, I tell you," was Bostwick's answer, drawing forth the few shi lings that remained in his pocket, and detaching a single one fro n the rest. "Well, it is a small p'inl;," quoth Barton. "But when a man kaint run, you must let him walk," answered Bostwick, taking up the cards and proceeding to shuffle. The other two put up their shil ings. In those days themoral aid philo- sophical games of Brag and Poker, now the favourites where the shillings are forthcoming, were not known among the people.-- It had not then been reduced to a science, the study of one's moods at play-a study upon which success at Brag ard Poker so much depends. The ordinary game with the "litt e dogs," was one still known and still reasonably practised among -his class under the several names of Old Sledge, Seven Up, All Fours, &c.; and on the present occasion it was adopted tacitly, not a word be- ing said to decide the point on either hand. The Squatter, like most of his class, was an adept at this play; not only knew the game well, but had little adroitnesses which increased the science, and sometimes remedied the deficiencies of fortune. He could make the trump, and cut the jack,-when not too impertinently watched--almost at his pleasure. The only qualification to this -. page: 272-273[View Page 272-273] 272 - THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. merit, was in the fact that it was shared in pretty nearly the same degree, by his associates. They were well matched, and, this be- ing the case, but little room was left to either to play the knave, out of his turn. They were in the midst of the play when Mc- Kewn entered. "I'm mighty glad you've come, McKewn," was the abrupt and somewhat irreverent address of the Squatter," es I'm jest in want of the shillings. These chaps here hev' pretty nigh dreaned me of all I had." "And a small all at that," laughed Drummond. "A man's all is enough for him to lose at any time;" muttered the Squatter, as Drummond took up his last shilling. "I'm a- looking to you, McKewn?"-and he extended his open palm.- His manner was such as to impress the Scotchman with the no- tion that his more important game had been successful; and, though the familiarity of the Squatter had now began to grate upon his sense of- the more dignified position to which he was rising in the world, he yet, with a good-natured sarcasm, handing him some money as he spoke, replied- "I should like to know, Bostwick, when you'll cease to look to me?" "Well, there's no knowing; when I've done with you, I reck- on." "Or I with you," responded the other, sotto voce; and the look which spoke to the Squatter at the same time, seemed to say that there should be no long delay in cutting the connection, the pre- sent affairs being finally adjusted. Bostwick grinned. The par- ties knew one another and weie fairly matched. - "Why, what's this, McKewn?" growled the Squatter, as he looked at the handful of coin, which the former had given him. "Nothing but silver, and pretty much shillings and sixpences all." "What wquld you have, man? You're betting shillings only." "That's only bekase I had nothing better, and I must make up my losses by tall betting. Give us some gould, kain't you 2" PLAY AND PAY. 273 4 The humour of the request did not seem favourably to impress McKewn; but it was one which he was not prepared to combat openly at present. Nay, the very confidence with which the ap- plication was made, seemed to say-I know how largely you owe me for my services.-He handed the Squatter three guineas. "'Twon't do, now, McKewn. Make it ten. Don't be splitting the hoecake too thin." "Wait till you lose them before you ask for more." "But I ain't a-guine to lose 'em; and its bekase I'm guine to -win now, that I want to go to tall betting.-There!" said he to Drummond and Barton, and clapping down the handful of small silver that he had received from McKewn, "plank down agin the heap, both on you." The money was counted, and each of the challenged parties faced it with a like sum. IcKewn, gazing on the Squatter, could not keep from showing, in his face, the feeling of scorn and dis- ggust which he entertained for him. The latter saw the expres- sion of his countenance, and read its full meaning. Eis own glance, in reply, was one of mixed bitterness and derision. The play, meanwhile, went on. The parties played as unconcernedly as if nothing was at stake. Practice had indurated them, Bar- ton was drowsy, to all appearance, but keenly vigilant. Drum- mlond was gay and garrulous, but not a point of the game escaped him; while the Squatter, seemingly reckless and indifferent at the same time, was saying to himself, " these skunks would steal the eyes out of a body's head if he'd let 'em; But I knows 'em." McKewn seated himself upon the chest, and gazed upon the three in silence. In a few minutes Drummond cried out- "Seven up! That's into you, Bost!" and he raked up the two piles with the coolness of one spooning up his uncooled 'roth.- The action was followed by the Squatter casting down the three gold pieces which he had just got from McKewn. The latter started up. page: 274-275[View Page 274-275] 274 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. "What i' cried he, "you don't mean to stake the three upo the game?" "Why not, Squar ." answered the Squatter. "The devil 1 And you expect my pockets to keep you sup- plied?" " "'In c6urse!" was the cool rejoinder. The Scotchman jumped up, hurried to the entrance of the tent, walked out, was gone a moment, then returned and took his seat upon the chest. It was not long before Bartpn gathered up the stakes. "Luck's ag'in me," quoth Bostwick, "but every road I ever seed has a turn somewhere. I must hev' the guineas, MeKewn," And without looking round, .he extended his open palm to the person he addressed. I CHAPTER XXXVII. BREWAGE OF BrriTrl BEVERAGE AMONG THE BRETHREN. - McKEWN started to his feet. "What, the devil!" he exclaimed, "do you suppose I'm made out ot gold?2" ' If you was, how I should like the k'ining of you," responded the Squatter with a rare coolness. "Hark ye, Bostwick, do you mean that-I'm to find you guineas for you to stake by the handful on a rascally game of cards?" "In course! -But Old Sledge ain't a rascally game, McKewn. It's a mighty fine game, I tell you, and takes a mighty smart sort of person to play it now. I reckon, ef so be luck wasn't always agin me, I could beat you from Monday morning to Sunday night, \ BREWAGE OF BI'TTRER BEVERAGE AMONG THE BRETHREN. 275 and never stop once to pray. Fork over now, sensible, McKewn, and don't keep the boys waiting. Five guineas will do." "I must see you first." "Oh! there's no seeing about it. 'm here. You see me, I reckon. I'm alive and kicking-pretty sprigh too, all things con- siderent. I've been a-working in your business; that's enough. Hand up the gould, and sh t up." McKewn seemed disposed to show obduracy. He rose and again sate down, and, all tLe while, the :hand of the Squatter was stretched out before him, the fingers working towards the palm. Bostwick was playing more games than one. It was with the most desperate reluctance '-hat McKewn conceded the demand, and flung down five pieces of gold upon the ground between the players. "Let it lie thar', quoth Bostwick, "and kiver it, boys, if you dare!" McKewn started up, almost furious. "Bostwick, I warn you." "Oh! warn be d---d! I know's what I'm about, McKewn. It's my money now, and I'e the right to use it jest as I chooses. Are you down; honies?" "Faced, full point, Bost," answered Drummond. And fifteen guineas formed the pile. McKewn tried to look on, but couldn't endure it long. 'He darted up, and sallied out of the tent. When he returned, the whole pile belonged to the Squatter, and his op- ponents were compelled to plead for a mitigation of stakes. The stakes were now of silver. "'It feels so mean .! quo;h the Squatter, " to git back to white money, after ye've had si h aspleasant feel of the yallow. But I'm agreeable to anything."' And he dcealt out the cards, threw up a knave, and ran out the game in a jiffy, gathering up the sixpences with the air of a man who is half disposed to regard the act as more troublesome than l s Y page: 276-277[View Page 276-277] 276.': - THE SWORD AND THE, DISTAFF. compensative. A stop was put to the game by a call to supper. Suppose this performance to be achieved, and the parties satisfied, and the things removed. "Well, honies," said the Squatter, with still increasing audacity, "whenever the feeling of Old Sledge comes strong upon you, I'm the man to say, h'ist away! Idon't want to be carrying off your gould chickens, ef you're the men to call 'em back to the old roost." ' "Work before play," interposed McKewn. "We've got some- thing to do,!I think, and the sooner we set about it the better." "Well! I don't know what-you've got to do, McKewn," Cool- ly rejoined the Squatterv but ef you hev' anything on hand to trouble you, the sooner you get at it, the better. But my work's done for this time, I reckon, and I'll play tell all splits,--ontell I kin get another job that's profitable." "You forget, you have not made your report about the last job. You want your pay without performance. But yoh don't get another stiver from me until I know what's been done. I must be satisfied." !"And so you shill, soon enough, ef any thing kin satisfy you. But there's time enough. Let us play awhile. I'm in for luck -noW, and I ain't guine to lose the chance." "Let him git rid of his guineas, McKewn," quoth Drummond. "They burn in his pocket, :He won't be easy till he empties it." "And: then he'll not be easy 'till he fills it again," answered McKewni angrily. "Dont I know him?"1 "Ef you does, you knows a man that, when he's done his work, must hev' his rest," answered the Squatter, with an air of savage doggedness. "Look you, McKewn, when you knows all, you'll wonder I ain't a tiger, or, it mout be, some worser wild beast than that.' - Eh!" exclaimed McKewn, with a stare. "Yes! You may say 'eh!' and. look wild. But I've seed sights to make a man think of hell, and worse places." BREWAGE OF BITTER BEVERAGE AMONG THE BRETEREN. 2" "Come out with me, Bostwick, and tell me all!" "I ain't guine to talk about it 'tell- I'm ready. Wait awhile.- Let's play,-all of us." "Play!" said McKewn. I'm in no humour for play." "En I'm in no humour for work," retorted the Squatter. "We'll play awhile," said Drummond to McKewn, with an ap- pealing look; at the samre time, turning to the chest, he motioned McKewn to rise, and drew from it a huge black bottle of Jamaica. "A drink all'round before we play." "I'm agreeable to that!" answered the Squatter; and the cups were filled in a twinkling. Bostwick drained the fiery liquid in itsiative state, disdaining the qualifying aid of water. All drank, McKewn barely tasting the bevelrage. His one virtue of sobriety, by the way, served to increase greatly the potency of his vices.- He still refused to play, 'ut sate down sullenly observing the oth- ers. "I'm for small points,' said Barton, putting up a single guinea. 'I'll not drain my pockets in one fling to pleasure any man." "Scared!" grinned th3 Squatter. "Well, a man might 'est as well be, dealing with such a born devil for gambling as yoi, Bostwick." The Squatter's self-esteem was gratified. He gave a chuckle; and, hauling out all his guineas, raised them in a pile beside him. One of them was put Lp to suit the resources of his comrades. They played. Luck still attended him; and he was the winner of game after game, until, at a significant glance from McKewn, Drummond and Barton both declared themselves penniless. "Git more!" roared tLe Squatter. "Borrow! Thar's McKewn." "I don't lend a penny!" shouted the Scotchman. "And I won't borrow." said Drummond, governed by the evi- dent wishes of McKewn, rather than by any scruples of his own. "Nor I!" echoed Ba-ton. It's only to lose. You've sold your soul to the devil, B stwick." - 24 page: 278-279[View Page 278-279] -278 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. And a devilish bad bargain the devil has npade of it;" mut- tered McKewn, "if he gave five shillings for the stuff." ' I reckon that's jest the price you put on yeur own soul, Me- Kewn," was the sarcasm of the Squatter and, growing more, au- dacious, he added, "and ef old satan ba the cunning chap that people thinks him, he'd not be apt to buy it at any price. It'll come to him some day, of. its own free will, at no cost at all." McKewn looked more and more savage. His face had actually grown livid as he listened to the increasing insolence of the Squat- ter.- Hitherto, the creature, though apt sometimes to say an im- pertinent thing, had never shown any such consistent purpose of doing so. McKewn could only .account for it, by, supposing such a degree of success, on the part of the Squatter, in his late opera- tions, as had stimulated his amour propre to a degree even be- yond the control of. his fears or judgments This being the case, McKewn was willing to tolerate a great deal; but his pride chafed greatly at the necessity of doing so, and what was contempt before, in the feeling which he entertained for the miserable wretch whom his cupidity had employed, was rising absolutely in a sentiment of hatred. Unconsciously, vague purposes of resentment and re- venge were beginning to work into his mind, to ripen into per- formances as soon as occasion should offer opportunity for their due exercise. Either Bostwick did not suspect tyhe feeling he in- spired, or was regardless of it. He continued to play the reckless insolent; cool, savage, scornful and satirical in all that he said, as far as it lay within his capacity to be so. And, with all his vul- garity, his educational inferiority, he was still capable of making himself felt. That he should presume at all, was a sufficient cause of offernce"to McKewn, whose social pride was growing in due degree with' the, acquisition of wealth. Bostwick, stiniulated by a sudden and unusual run of luck, was vexed atfbeing arrested in it. He was acute enough to couple the refusal of Drummond and Barton to play any longer, with the BREiWAG*-i U IB V BRA ii M VV. J J .L. JvLt . ' t- xA 1. D^ XJLiX . *s a vious wish of McKewn, and he so expressed himself as to make parties understand that he saw through them all. He knew it Drummond and Barton had money enough for play, and felt re that, if they had not, and desired it, they could command, th even more facilitry han himself, the requisite loans from the otchman. Well," said he, looking round him with a scorn that might be ally entertained-"Well, I'm about as poor a dog as ever aw'd a bone; but, by Jiminy! I'm not so poor as to let any an say whether I should bark or not, jest as it pleased him!- o! Ef I'm to hev' a master, I'll choose that one that'll let me n or sleep when I wants to, and not rout me up because it suits m only, and set me to barking ag'in, when I've lost all tongue ready in a long day's lunt. In some things, I knows I'm worse an a nigger, but 'bad as I am, I reckon I'll never let any man it his collar round my neck."' "And who does that?" demanded Barton and Drummond in a eath. "Why, you, both on you. You aint half a man between you. ere I knows you both wants to play, and will take ;o cards as i old sarpent to a young frog; but, jest because McKewn here is given you a look oit of his gimblet eyes, you shet up, and it on a righteous face, and swear agin your very souls, that you're red and don't want ;o play, and hain't got any more money, id I don't know what other 'scuses. That-ain't being a man ic. a gentleman, any way. It's more like being a log and a ave, I say!" "Don't you call me a dog and a slave, Bostwick, or I'll hurt )u!" growled Barton. Druinmond only laughed merrily. "Hurt, will you? Who's afear'd? You're barking up the rong tree, Barton, if you thinks to scare me with your tongue. could take the starch out of your jacket any day in three min- tes, ef you wants to try." page: 280-281[View Page 280-281] 280 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. "Pshaw!" put in McKewn, "no more of this! Be still, Bar- ton; and you, Bostwick, don't be a fool! If you're fool enough to-play together, and gamble away your money when you ought both to be earning it, at least don't be such fools as to quarrel when your profits can only grow from your working together. You, Barton, set off, and see about the schooner, The tide serves, and she's either up or coming. See to her, and make stowage of what you've got, and that's a matter about which we must talk together, Bostwick. You, Drummond, go with Barton, and see that every thing's right." The two rose without a word. The Squatter then- "Well, ef we're to hev' a talk of it, jest you put out the Ja- maica, Drummond, that kwe shant shan't hev' a dry time of it.- McKewn is mighty apt to git thirsty when he talks of business, and I work so hard to listen that it makes my throat mighty dry too. Heave out the liquor, will you?" "Plenty's, the word," answered Drummond, doing as he had been asked. The portly black bottle, square and capacious, was put within reach. The negro woman just then brought in a bucket of water from the spring. She was dismissed, and Drum- mond and Barton soon disappeared, leaving the Squatter and his employer in sole possession of the tent. CHAPTER XXXVIII BLOOD MONEY. SCARCELY hadC heothe r parties all disappeared, when McKewn began- "I don't know what to make of your conduct, Bostwick, to- " . BilOOVD MVNJEY. Z ight. It's rather unusual, I must say, and quite different from 'hat, I think, I have a right to expect. You- have created me retty much as if I were one of those ruffians that you have some- mes employed; and seemed to forget, my good fellow, that it is who am your employer; not you mine!"} "Forgit it, you say! No! by Jiminy! not a bit of forgitting ith me in that business," was the reply; " but before I begin, I'll y the Jamaica. It'll take more than you kin find for me, Mc- [ewn, to make me forgitful of you and your business." This was said in tones of singular bitterness, -and with such a ,ok of scornful super'ority as quite confounded the listener.- [eanwhile, the Squatter resorted to the bottle, and poured out ie Jamaica, and dashed it with water, iwith as much deliberation, \ s if there were no other objects before him for consideration. At "events, he showed no regard whatever to the obvious impatience f his companion. At length, having drank, and struck down the ip upon the chest, he turned to McKewn, and confronted him. "And now for it," said he. "You wants to know about the usiness, and how we got on, and what we've got, and where's the iggers and -he papers, eh! Well now, look you, McKewn, ef, efore I told you the leetlest word in the world about the matter, was jest to take this knife, and driveit up to the handle in that itten heart of your'n, I'd make the right sort of beginning for ch a story as I've got to tell!" He suited the action, in some degree, to the words; flourishing ie blade of his couteau de chasse, in singular proximity to the yes of his auditor. McKewn was no imbecile. He was a cool, rm man; not a hero, Perhaps-possessed of none of that sort of ravery which springs Tumultuously into appetite and action on ie merest show of provocation-but he could fight when need squired, and could look calmly the ordinary danger in the face. ut the proceeding of the Squatter was so entirely unexpected- ie fellow had so uniformly shown himself the submissive crea- 24* page: 282-283[View Page 282-283] 282 THE SWOAD AND THE DISTAFF. ture, to be bought and used at pleasure, by the agency of drink or money--and there was now in his face, such an expression of vindictive hate and ferocious phrenzy, that, if the Scotchman did not actually quail with terror, he was certainly most terribly con- founded. We do not pretend to say from what sources sprang this new exhibition of conduct, on the part of the Squatter, to one who hitherto had been allowed to appear quite as much his mas- ter as employer. It may have been the dictate of a cunning poli- cy to inspire the epnotion of fear, the better to exercise future con- trol over the person frdm whom he was otherwise to derive but little future service. The temper of the Squatter, who had his pride and vanity also, may have been driven to this degree of des- peration by the unconcealed contempt, and the. too frequently stu- died insolence of McKewn. The rum he had been drinking might have had something to -do with his ebullition ; or, it might be, that the scenes through which he -had gone, his own narrow es- cape, the death of four of his associates, the necessity which he had felt of putting one of them to death with his own hand- these, together, may have combined to work upon his brain, so as utterly to deprive him, for the time, of all the restraints of judgment. It is very probable that all the reasons above suggest- ed were, in degree, at the bottom of the novel demonstration which he had made; and that policy prompted him (for he had sufficient sagacity to fathom the character of his associates) to employ his natural and mixed emotions with a certain regard to his own fu- ture interests. Whatever the source of his speech and conduct, they produced the effect of paralyzing, for a moment, the cold-blooded scoundrel, in whose hands, hitherto, had rested the reins of full authority over the creature who now seemed to threaten him.- The picture appeared strangely to realize that German fancy which represents the devil as serving, for a long time, in perfect submission, the conceited mortal out of whose hands he one day wrenches the staff, only to break with it the head of his astonished / / BLOOD MONEY. 283 master. Mc ewn absolutely gasped. He could not summon words to answer; and the Squatter seemed to rise even into dig- nity, as he c rtainly did into superiority, -as, with a calrr ard steady eye, he watc ed scornfilly the effect which he had pro lued upon the meagre, vacant cou tenance, and the trembling frame of his confederate. "Yes," sad he, "McKewn, ef I was jest now to stick my knife into the softest part of your heart, and work it there w th a heavy hand, it would be only the right way to begin the te ling of my story." McKewn gathered strength to say--but still in gaspinr accents- "Why, yu wouldn't kill me, Bostwick."' "I don't know but I ought to.. 'TTwould be amighty good sar- vice done to rood peop e. I ought to, McKewn, and af I was a good man m self, I'd do it soon as= eat.' "Why, whlat have I done, to put you in such a fury " "Done Listen! Of the five men that went with me on this infernal expedition, th re's only one now living on this mortal airth!" "What! Four?" rcovering himself-his terror changing into astonishment "You lon't say that four men have been killed?" "Every man but two on us swallowed his bullet; Bill Sykes, Dick Norris, Rafe Burke an, Jeff Brydges. Of all them g od fellows, there's not o e on 'em, but's a-lying in the woods, an all the ice in nater' couldn't make 'em feel cold. You, and you only, have been the death of thei four fellows." "Pshaw!' exclaiine1 McKewn, in husky and half- hoking ac- cents, " that' all nonesense! I had nothing to do w th their liv- ing or dying. But h w was the affair-how did it happen?- What was done?" "Oh! you're mighty curious to know ef we got the niggers and the paprs! You don't mind much ef we was al killed and sculpedl, so tlat you had your eends sarved. I know you, McKewn, page: 284-285[View Page 284-285] 284: THME SWORD AN '^AN J2 Vuib LAA-W o. and it's bekase I know how little you care what comes of us, that I feelit in my heart to find my way with this knife into your'n. But 1 ain't guine to kill you yit; 'kase you see, I'm wanting more of your money." The Scotchman laughed feebly, and with effort. "You laughs, does you, and I'm telling you of four stout lads all convart9d to carrion in your business." "But that's no fault of mine." "Whose, then Wasn't it your business?" "Yes; but I did not expect-I did not wish-that anybody should be killed on my account." "Ambushes, when men's got we'pons in their hands, is very likely to hurt people, and prehaps to kill 'em. These fellows are killed, I tell you, four dn 'em a-lying stark in the cold night,'and looking up, and never once seeing the stairs. And' we did our best. There's but one, of all of us six, alive now, beside myself, and the d---1 knows how long he's to be allowed to keep in the open I daylight. I seed him not four hours ago, only seven miles from here, with a fever on him hot enough to burn his brains to a cinder." "Who is he 8. "Tony Hines." "And he has a fever, and but seven miles from here? And what did you do for him " "What could I do? It's all in the hands of nater. I'm no doctor; I've got no physic; he must die or live, es it happens." (We must do something for him. But seven miles. Where does he lie?" "At old Ephraim Smyzer's, the Dutchman. But we needn't talk of him. Ef you've got any physic to do him good, give it to me, andI'll carry it in the morning. Let's talk of the other matter." He filled himself another cup of the Jamaica, sipped a little, BLOOD MONEY. 285 and, while McKewn tred to compose himself, and prepared to listen, the Sq latter, though with evident dislike of the subject, proceeded to unfold his history, in his own manner. "We set the trap, ard the widow walked fairly in;o it. The carriage was ahead of tiae wagon half a mile or more, and Ford- ham and the young fellow was on horseback. They rid ahead, and when the overseer stopped to water at the: branch, with the young fellow on t'other side of him, Bill Sykes lent him the butt- end of his rifle, and tumbled him into the branch. Onfortunate, Bill Sykes made no account of the lad, seeing he was more a child than a man; but the chap's as quick a, varmint as ever look- ed through a green bush, and the moment he seed Fordham down, and the man that down'd him, the little fellow, setting on his horse, let fly at Bill with his pistols, first one shot, then t'other; though the fi'st bullet was enough. Bill hadn't a word to say arter that for any of his friends on airth. Then the young devil wheeled abort, and went off like a streak. But a shot from one of our boys tumbled the lad's pony, and we captivated him and tied him down. Fordham tried to git up, and he had ;wo pistols, but we put ir, seasonable, and stunted him with another touch of the rifle-butt, and he lay quiet enough while we tied him down. The widow Ebleigh we took out of the carriage, and gave her a hitch too " "Did you tie her ."- "Yes, 'twas a needcessity, for the s'arch, and the rest of the bu- -siness. Then we stopt the wagon, and made at the niggers. They scattered, anc we caught only seven of them " "You got seven, then?" said McKewn, feeling a lit;le relieved. "Got h-11! We ;ook 'em, but couldn't keep 'em. For, meantime, a nigger gal, name Jinny-I know her well-slipped out somehow from the carriage, and hid in the bushes, and, when we was a-running down the niggers, what does she do, but cuts her missis loose, and cLts Fordham and young Arthur loose, and ' \ page: 286-287[View Page 286-287] 286 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. they gits possession of their own we'pons, and the rifle of Bill Sykes, and takes the woods on us. Now, Fordham is a great fel- low in the woods, and where they harboured we could'nt say.-- 'At lat they got a crack at Dick Norris, and bark'd his limb with a bullet, but not to do much hurt. Then our work was to begin. It's g long story to tell how we snaked and foxed through the bushes, to git upon their rear. At last, Rafe Bulrke, like a bloody fool, O ot into a passion, and showed his teeth to the widow, and his fool head to her son, and draw'd his bullet, I reckon from a rest, br it laid him out flat as a sarcumstance. So you see, thar was two fine fellows tumbled by a brat of a boy. But he's a quick chap as ever lived, and ef he grows to-be a man, he'll make somebody see sights. But I reckon we'd ha' fixed 'em all at last, for we was marching off the seven niggers, we captivated under Tony Hinei and Jeff Brydges, when, all of a sudden; who should bolt in upon them and us, but that bloody fat Cappin, Porgy, with hafe-6-dozen dragoons at his heels. They cut down Jeff Brydges in his tracks; they run Tony Hines into the swamps, where, what with cold, and scare, and hunger, he's got the kever; and they tuk Dick Norris in the wagon, and hitched him to a swinging limb, putting a knot in the rope jest under his left ear, that's made him careful never to. speak a word sence." "Cood God! is it possible! Did he confess?" "I reckon he didn't hev' a chance. Dick's a good fellow, and he disapp'inted them. He died too sudden to say much. They gin me a hard chase, so close that I had to throw away my rifle. I've lost rifle, horse, and every thing; and four 'fine fellows shet up frever; and one prehaps, a-dying now, and the other here, as you sees, before you, purty desperate, MeKewn, and jest as wil- ling to knife himself, and you, and a'most anybody that crooks a finger at him, as to sup this Jamaica." :' What a shocking affair! How your fellows must have bung- led!^ \ -*, , BLOOD MONEY. 287 !"Bungle4! By the Etarnal! don't say that agi. A man what pays for his bun;ling with his life, has a right to hev' the decent thing said About him. It was no bungling, but a clever piece of business,' mighty well done; but a man's lot able for every thing, and who vas to know that them d----d hard-riding men of Mariion was to come down sudden upon us." -"But you admit that the negro girl, Jenny, escape your obser- vation, and t was she, you say, that cut Fordham ant the young man loose." "Yes, 'twas she; but ef it hadn't been for yoir business, 'touldn't hev' happe ed; but you was so set upon evingthem bloody papers, that I made for s'arching the carriage arter them my own sell. Ef I hbdn't done so, but let them go' lo ,and jest seen to the captivating of the party, and not trusted to the other fellowe, I reckor all would ha' gone right. Bt 'twas the blasted papers that yo talked so much about." "Did yoY get them at last-the papers?" demanded McKewn, eagerly. "Yes! 'twas all I got out of the affair."-The Squ tter thought of the fifty guineas as he spoke, but without compun tions of any sort. "Ye! I got 'em; I got all the papers the w dow had in the carriage, agood sized box full, and yours, I reckon, is among 'em. I seel two papers jest like what you show'd me, and tell'd me about." "Let me see them"--eagerly-"I can tell." "No! no! McKewn! that cock won't fight tell he's well fed. Them paper s, ef they' re so vallyable to you, are jest as vallyable to me. Y u've got to pay for them papers afore you git 'em.-- They're woith a sight of money. They're worth them four fine fellows that got knock'd ir the head to git 'em. T ley're worth my horse, rly rifle, m trouble, my danger, and the orful fright, and hurry,and run, a d confusion I've had. Them papers must pay for all l' l I i. page: 288-289[View Page 288-289] 17,00 *I STAFF, 'OO .LX1 ! I VlTi J W t o ) &AXNJ T1tiJaN JJbiAffV. "Well, but Bostwick, I have not refused to reward you for what you have done. I've paid you punctually for all your services." "Paid me 2 And whar's the pay? What am I the better for it?.- It come. in- driblets and it couldn't last no time. Sich re- warcings! 'Twon't do to talk of what you've paid me, McKewn; it's ioow that I'm to show you what you've got to pay. I must hev' one hundred guineas in hand, bright and yallow here"-- toucaing his palms-" before you gits them papers into your'n." "A hundred guineas! Why man, you're mad. A hundred guineas for a sheet of paper!" "It's a paper that kin hang you, McKewn." "'And you, too, my good fellow." "I'll be ready for the rope when they're a-stringing you. I jest don't care for nothing now except my comforts; and my comforts if to be bought wih guineas; and ef the guineas ain't there to buy the comforts, why Idon't care how soon the eend of the rope is worked into a slib-knot for both our necks. Thar! Them's my principles. Make the most you kin out of them. A hundred guineas is the least I'll take for them bloody papers, I tell you." McKewn changed his tactics. "But my good fellow, you don't expect me to pay a hundred guineas for the papers without seeing them. What evidence have I that you have really got them?" "The word of a rascal to a rascal, ef you please, and I ain't guine to give you better evidence; for I kain't. Take that or none at all." . The faee of \MKewn, naturally of a cadaverous cast, flushed in- stantly to rimson. The space between himself and the Squatter had diminished wonderfully in a single week. But he had no remedy. The man who weighs his own life at so small a value, has that of his enemy always at his girdle. He had only to tem- porize. "But, aswe know each other so well," said McKewn, "pray , . KNAVES PAIRING OFF. 289 what security shall I have, when I have paid this money, that you will then deliver the papers? How do I know but you will still keep them, and still be calling upon me for more mor-ey." "Well, tlat sartainly would be a good way to do 'usiness. I hadn't thought of that. You're more cute than me, McKewn." "You see for yourself. My only security is in your delivering the papers, at least, when I am prepared to pay'the money." "Kaint be did, McKewn, even ef I was willing, which I aint. The box of papers is hid away, where all h--l could'nt find them." I "Ah!" "Yes! You might take a thousand rigiments and s'arch from Christmas to-Christmas, and never once come within nosing dis- tance of their hiding place. It'll take me three-days good riding to bring 'em here; and them guineas, one hundred OL em, I must hev' before we part to-morrow." A cloud passed over the brow of McKewn. His forehead was contracted. i He mused in silence for a moment, then said- "Well, I must think of it to-night. One hundred guineas!-I must think of it." With these words, he abruptly left the tent, while the Squatter proceeded to replenish his cup with the convenient Jamaica. CHAPTER XXXIX. INAVES PAIRING OFF. McKEWN had suddenly been enlightened by a new idea. He walked out into the woods, taking a blind path with which he ap- peared quites familiar, and which gradually conducted him to the 25 page: 290-291[View Page 290-291] 290 THE, SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. near neighbouhood of the river, or rather that arm of the sea which afforded harbourage to the brigantines, or transport vessels, to which, he and others, engaged in illicit trade, were about to furnish stolen crgo. But, though approaching this neighbour- hood, he was not yet disposed to show. himself to his confederates. He had to solve his problems, in secret meditation, before he re- quired their cooperation. Exercising our peculiar privilege, we, however, are enabled-o report the subject of his thoughts and the conclusions to which they conducted him. As might be expected, his meditations all related to the Squatter, Bostwick, and the em- barrassments which threatened him from that quarter. "'Either," he said to himself, "this fellow has the paper or he has not. Whether he has; or not, his object isto impress me with the fact of his possessing it, and, through my fears, on that subject, to extort money from me. He will never surrender the paper as long as he can do this. He will hold it over me, in terrorem, for- ever. Imust disarm himof this power. I doubt that he has this paper. If he has obtained it, he has secreted it, as he boasts, where I can never lay hands on it without his consent. I know the scoundrel so well, that, supposing he has it, I could swear that it now lies- hidden in some hollow tree, in some unfathomable swamp. He will confide the secret to nobody else. What then? If I can -keep him from it, it is secure from all other persons. It will moulder and rot in its burial place. It can never rise against me. But, even if he has not this paper, his own evidence may trou- ble me hereafter. He will still want money-will always be full of wants-so long as he can threaten me. I must get rid of him! I will do it. This very skirmish with Porgy and his followers in- creases the danger, and makes it doubly important that Bostwick should be out of the way. I see! I have it. Drummond can manage that! But, in the meanwhile, I will see this associate of his-this fellow, Hines. It is possible that he has the paper, and only awaits Bostwick' orders on the subject. He isi sick with XNAVES PAIRING OFF. 291 fever-that may be true or not. I must, at all events, find out what I can-all that ie knows, and whether he knows more than is becominrg for our safety. Eight miles! I can see him and re- turn in four hours. It must be done!" Having reached this conclusion, he emerged from the thicket, and moved rapidly towards the bluff which usually formed the landing place for the brigantine. The tide was making rapidly into the creek on which it stood. Three persons were already there, who, on his approach, proved to be- Drummond, Barton, and a burly, broad-shouldered, and excessively short person, partly in the habit of a sailor. He was in fact, the master of the brigan- tine. His name was Forbes. These three were in waiting for the vessel. She was approaching under a fair breeze, cutting di- rectly across the inner ibay, having been concealed, for several days already, against the Opposite shore; her tall, rakish masts ming- ling naturally with the great trees of the forest, waich, in that quarter, hung directly over the river. She was guided in her progress by signal lighits just over the heads of our iarty-three lanterns, in a triangle, suspended- from a cypress pole. By day- light she was signalled by three separate smokes. McKewn joined the group who awaited her, and they spoke together on the subject of their affairs in general. Various matters were discussed among them which need not tax our attention, but scarcely a word was said of the Squatter; Forbes only remarked- "Bostwick, it seems, came empty handed. It's not often that he fails." "He was probably drunk, or he would not have failed this time." "Is there any chance that he will mend the matter?" was the inquiry of Forbes. "Scarcely in season for you. You have a pretty fair cargo, however, and: there's no policy in waiting upon him." "No, indeed! I shall try to be off by day-peep. We have a page: 292-293[View Page 292-293] 292 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. hundred and seventy one. I am prepared to take two hundred, if they were ready; but there's quite too much risk in waiting. Some French vessels of war went by yesterday, going rorth, and close in shore. Every day will add to their number, and they are enough now along the route, to keep us watching with all our eyes." . "I want some physic outiof your chest, Captain," said Mc- Kewn, somewhat suddenly changing the subject. "What's the matter? You're not going to take physic " "It's not for myself." "We have a good supply. You can have what you please.- For my part I don't see the good of it. in our hands at least.- When a sailors to die, it makes no sort of difference whether you physic him or not. Die he will, and the physic only keeps him from dying easily." "It's very different with a backwoodsman. He believes-in phy- sic, and relishes large doses. He'll hardly think himself well, un- less he has taken physic. The' old women,- half of them, feed on it, and learn to like it as well as coffee and sugar." "That's if it's mixed with alcohol," quoth Drummond. But who's it for, MeKewn 2" J"A fellow named Hines, a friend of Bostwick, who has been taken sick some eight miles above, at the cabin of an old man named Smyzer. Do you know:anything about him 2" "What, ,od Ephraim? To -be sure, I do, and his old wife, too-a. pair of turtles that might be owls for the good looks -be tween 'em. But how are you to get the physic there 2" "i Carry it myself." "What! to-night?" "Yes; as soon as possible. You can direct me as to the road." "Oh.! that's plain enough. It's a short eight miles. Hardly more than seven, I think; good enough for a man on horseback. I can tell you aUl about it. But you're getting wondrous chari- W. . ? KNAVES PAIRING OFF. 293 table of late. Time was, the man might have died and gone to the devil, and you'd never have'crossed a creature to carry him physic though you had only a mile to travel. What's in the wind 2" \ McKewn answered by a glance only, but that was sufficiently significant for all who saw it. i They readily comprehended that their confederate was busy in the common cause. It was not ne- cessary to ask or answer questions where the parties were satisfied wi;h each other. Meanwhile, the rattling of bolt and cordage announced the ap- proach of the vressel. Soon she plunged ahead and shot into the little harbourage. A brief delay, and the confederates boarded her; the contents of the medicine chest were overhituled, and McKewn selected a small supply of such medicines as, in that day, were mostly resorted to in cases of fever. - Provided with them, he wasted no time on matters not absolutely essential to the objects of the party. He quickly returned to the land, having first'called Drummond aside. He led him into the wood, and at once proceed to unfold his farther designs. "I do not see that this fellow, Bostwick, can be of any farther use to us here, Drummond. On the contrary. he may be trouble- some. He promises to be so, as you see. We must get rid of him. He has been a good woodman; he may -become a good seaman. i Forbes is short-handed, and will have no 6ojection to a sharp, lithe active fellow who will soon learn to run up a rope, as he has run up a tree. You must get him employment in-the transport." "But, will Bostwick be willing?" "By no means! These fellows rarely know what is best for them. We must help him against himself. Give -im a good berth whether he wishes it or not. Get him on board to-night, on some pretext, and take him off with you. Invi-e him to a match at cards. His love of' miioey,: and his passion for gaming 25* page: 294-295[View Page 294-295] 2..4 THE IswOK APND THE. DISTAPF. will make it an easy matter to do this, particularly if he is well fuddled. If, however, you can't persuade him, hoist him on board and make sail. He will be-reconciled to it after a while, and when you have given him a taste of your sea pleasures-- nightly drinking and gaming. When ashore at Jamaica, leave him there. It is to him a sort of Rum and Sugar Paradise, where he may be well content to say. At all events, there will be no policy in bringing him back. See to it. I shall ride at once to see this fellow, Hines. Try and have it all over befo 'e I return. I do not care to see him again. He is already half drunk. Go back to the tent, and resume the cards. Bet as highly as he may desire. Let him win for awhile, You can recover all your losses on the voyage. Above all, and to effect all, keep him ell soaked. The rum will make all easy." Drummond liked the project. He offered no objectic ns. With- put having any motive so grave as that of McKewn,-without, in- deed, having any knowledge of the particular reason which the latter had for getting the: Squatter out of the way-e yet saw that the proceeding, might, in some degree, contribute o the com- mon cause. 'Besides, Drump ond had a passion for funs nd the ab- duction of, the Squatter promised ample store for merri rent. ' It will be comical," said Le, "when the fellow wake, and finds himself out of sight of land. Won't he look wild?" The plan being properly understood, the parties seps rated, Mc- Kewn'at once taking horse, without. showing himself at the tent, and speeding,. with all possible haste, towards the csbin of old Ephraim Smyzer. Two hours, as he had calculated, biought him to the place. The family had retired for the night; but McKewn's business was urgent and he prepared to rout them up. His en- trance into the enclosure brought upon him the fierce assault of a couple of hounds, the attentions of which made him rather slow to dismount; but he kept them off with his whip, anc made his way to the steps of the house, which consisted of three huge pine ," ',"' {3 XNAVES PARING OFF. 29Q5 locks, leadingto a low piazza, into which, as there was no railing round it, he alighted directly from the saddle. Fastening: his ouse to one of the columns, he thundered at the door, keeping lose watch upon ,the dogs, which had ascended to the piazza also, ut hung about the ste s, seeming, in some degree, to respect the ouse, if not the intruder. But they did not spare their tongues they did their teeth. Their clamours were incessant, and be- ween their music, and the tune kept upon the door by McKewn's bick, the inmates of the hovel were soon aroused. "Who's thar " was-the demand, in a female voice. "It's the- Doctor ;" answered McKewn, promptly. His cue had een ad pted long before, by which he included -himself among le facul y. "You've got a sick man here, haven't you?" "Yes; I reckon; and I'm sick myself," answered the old wo ian, opening the door, and displaying herself in her night dress -a very short one-with a ragged 'blanket over her shoulders, ad a blazing torch of lightwood in her hand. "Won't you come in, Doctor," she said. "I'm mighty glad ,see you. The poor man's got the fever yit, and a mighty hot iv4.r it is." Where is he?" was the eager inquiry which McKewn made, ushing in as he spoke. ' Well, now, jest set down a bit, Doctor, while I light the fire ;" nd the good woman squatted down to the occupa;ion on. the earth. A grunt from the bed in one corner, drew M Kewn's at- antion to that quarter. "Is it Doctor Ferney?" asked old Ephraim. "No; rm Doctor Warley." "Yis! I hearn of you,-somewhar' about Dorchester, I'm-. "nking. Well, Doctor, I'm mighty glad ydu're come to do some ting for the poor man what's sick here; and something for all n us., I'm sick myself with an awful bad turn- of rheumaliz-one hole side of me is a'most useless, Doctor; I kan't well straight- t page: 296-297[View Page 296-297] 296- THE SWORD ANm THE DISTAFF. en tiyself these times; Kain't you give me something to do me good?' .. * - The file by this time was kindled, and the old won an inter- posed with her complaints which were. chronic also, like those of her husband. We spare her narration. McKewn was not un- prepatediforaany emergency. He knew the people; thr usual ailnients, and the' faith which they had in professional rt. But he was too -anious about the patient he had come to see, to suffer any delays of the-interview... "Well," said he, as' this poor fellow has a hot-fever[ his case is the-most pressing. We'll. see what his condition is trst, and then attend to yours." He was conducted accordingly to the shed-room whqre Hines lay. The patient was awake, and- welcomed the supposed physi- cian with profound satisfaction. Dr. Warley-yas he ca'led him- self-sat down upon the pallet by the sick. man, and grasped his wrist with a professional promptness that would have dore honour to tihe regular faculty-then shook :his head slowly with a very deliberative -nod. -:Mrs. ;Smyzer. was disposed to linge- and to mingle in the conference; but this by no means suited our medico. '-Leave us, my- good woman!, The secrets of the sie k are to be respected. I will see to your ailments, and those of [your old man, when I: have got through with the-:case of Mr. Hi es." ' The good 'woman retired. - ' You knows' me, then " quoth Hines. "To be sure! Bostwick is an old patient of mine. He's done many a pretty turn for me, band -I've saved him many a t-me when he was on his back. He begged me ride here to-ni ht. I'd 'hiave done it for no other man. But, in truth, I know all about his affairs and yours. He counsels with me about other things than physic." "Oh-! ho!"' said Hines,--and he straight began to suspect that his worthy physician had been the employer of the pa:ty on its ! -- i KNAVES PAIRING OPPFF. 297 late expedition-a secret which Bostwick: had studiously kept to himself. The next thought with the sick outlaw, was to ascertain what had been the reward which had tempted the Squatter. His cupidity taught him to suspect that Bostwick had monopolized the lion's share, as is too common in all such cases. "I'l pump him about it," was the almost spoken resolve of Tony. The two parties, it will thus be seen, had each a covert object to be gained, in each case demanding some exercise of in- genuity. As the very being a rogue always implies some degree of ingenuity, it is needless for us to say that the hopeful pair were quite equal to the' objects entertained. We shall be compelled, however; to omit many of the details, and much of the dialogue between them, and report results rather than the process oy which they were reached. It was McKewn's object to appear quite fa- miliar with the Squatter's affairs. It was the policy of Tony to show the Doctor that he had a sufficient inkling of the relations existing between the parties. "You 'have a very hot fever, Tony; but you owe it as much as any thing else, to the scenes through which you have gone.- You've had a hard time of it. But Bostwick don't spare his men. I warned him to be careful of what he was about." "'; He didn't mind you much, Doctor. Bost is too quick aleetle. He don't look about him enough. But you paid him zoo well, Doctor, that was it! 'He was so keen for his pay, and he didn't watch both eends of the road close enough." "I paid him!-oh! yes as you say, he was-too quick for his pay to do his work properly. And that's the reason of all the misfortune. He bungled badly, and lost all he came for. But he got the box and papers, eh?" "Box and papers!" "Yes; didn't he? He made sure of that? Of course, you know." "Know I reckon I do. But about the box and papers--" WJ page: 298-299[View Page 298-299] 298 THE- SWORD 'AND THE DISTAFF. "iHe got them from the carriage!" "Hedid? "He says so; of course he did"! Didn't you help gearch the carriage ' "No! dern his liver, I didn't! That was what he Was arter! We helped knock down the driver, 'aiid tie the felloiss and the woman, but 'twasJhim that- sarched the carriage." - '"Well, didn't you know what he found there-the box, the money, and the papers?" "' Box of money! --No, there was no money. I fxed him, atid Norris axed him, but helswore there wasn't no mon y." "Oh! you surely forget.--Bostwick"s an honest fe ldw. He wouldn't cheat me-wouldn't tell 'me' a lie, I'm sure. lHe found the box, I'm sure." ' "H[onest, you say! Well, I reckon he is, and I reckbn every man's'honest 'tell iHe's found out. Ef there was a box I never seed it, and ef he got any mone out ot the carriage, then he told us all aimost etarnal lie, for he swore he couldn't find nothing." '"All was in the box. You saw that!" -"No, I didn't.' ' "Is it possible? Why how could he have hidden it?i You all helped to stop the carriage, to tie the 'women and ehe men, and you must bhave seen." i "Yes ; we did help, but you see, the dein'd fox of a fellow- now I see it all--he s'arched the carriage first, by his one self, and kept us at a distance to see after the men gone ahea. and the wagon behind, so that he had all the chances." i But, if he got it, how could he hide it from you, so that you shouldn't see even the box?" "Easy enough! He kept us all busy, and he kept pretty much with the woman.. Ef any body seed the box and money besides himself, 'twas Rafe Burke, and he's not able to say anything about it now. -Bostwick swore he found nothing." KXNAVES PAIRING: OFF. , 299 "Oh! he didn't think of the box at the time. , But rm sure he got it. He says so now. He's hid it somewhere, he says .... "In the swamp! He had chance enough for it, for we di' ided, you see, one set agin- the carriage one agin the overseer and boy, and another agin the wagon. He kept the carriage andithe wo. man- to himself, and was a long time about 'em. But he swore there was no money.'" "But did you believe the story? Did you suppose that the widow, who is so rich, would go -to the country and take no money with her-even if it were only -a stocking-full of shillings for chicken money. I shouldn't wonder if she had a hundred guin- eas in that box!" i "A..hundred guineas! The etarnal-cheat! And you paid him so well, too." "I!-oh! we wont say what hand I had in the matter, seeing that it's turned out nothing. The box might be worth something now, if we had it." Dern the bpx, I say; and dern that fox of a fellow that kept his mouth shet all the while about. the box. Now, look you, I kin jest show the chance he had for gutting the carriage .and hiding a dozen boxes"-and he proceeded to give such a full ac- countof the whole adventure, as served to confirm the story told by Bostwick, and to satisfy McKewn that the Squatter, in all pro- bability, had secured the papers. The sick ruffian aroused him- self at the Squatter's appropriation of the spoil, allowed himself no reserve, and went into, particulars which- supplied many gaps in the narrative as, given- by the latter. McKewn listened coolly, egging the fellow on by 'aword thrown in, now and then, at the right moment. He now recalled certain studious efforts of Bost- wick to send all his confederates out of sight, and, in fact, account- ed for the failure to secure the negro girl, by the solicitude of the Squatter to put the irrysterious box out of sight. "Well, I'm'sorry I told you of the box and the. hundred guin- page: 300-301[View Page 300-301] THE -oWAO -b 4iDT-HDI dTArt. eas:; but i rbeally;sipposed you. all ;iiew what was do ie, Bost- - wiek did't0 speak of it as' any secret, anid Ireckon he'll give yo- your-.sbae of the money.:: le only forgot." "P-Forg^- D ;i himn -le forgot a-purpose! Now, of all -the monery you gin:him in this business -" ;" ;:Who?;," I -oh!!.o!, - t I; suppose somebody -empi oyed him and paid him well, but I am only his friend when he'si-i trouble." -: ";'EHem!' oh!!:.yes! I ionderstand!: It's only right l:ot to say -too much. -3But, I:reckon-ihe got farmous pay beforehai I." -"Yeyr likely. ::Hunareds, no d'oubt! . W '; Nhat!l uieguasli" . To -be sure-guineas. To do such a business as you went oni-mult have : alledl for a round pocket full-. Bostwick' is not the man to look at such work for less than a hundred for hi nselt." : "End you- gin him? You think-he got so much as tl at?" -" 4Not a-shilling le ss -- The 'tarnal rascalf! Look you, Doctor, give me the -hysic and let me 'et -ut -of this' fodder.. I longs to jest call he dern'd fell owout into the bushes, and ax him for a showing of h3pockets." ;"Oh! you musn't-quarrel I'm sorryI told you.- {e'll make it allri-ght, I'm sure."': . L- ?"Jest- yowu mae k o 'me well, Doctor. I longs to be at him. I'll go into hini with:a mighty sharp tooth- . The .-Doctort? again fel th h ,pulse of the patient, tow somei what heightened! and proceeded t 'prescribe for him. An enor. mous dose of :Glauer'Salts w4 poured into a tumbler and the old& womat was acalled onh forVirginia Snake-root. O' this roe; $thie country-is: eerywherefullan all the peasantry wa- well ac- quaiJnted with? it. .A -grain of tartar was deposited among the salts.-- s' ^ ;-,6 ' ^. ' .Git , of .,^tr .' .'- It Ei disietl him to some purpose;" quoth. Mcewn, to himself, as he mixed the medicines, " and that is:all pei iaps, that p tii I sht to be :ted to do." --: : Ou ^ Rap I THE HAZARD OF THE DE. ' 801 There were other words between himself and patient, and when he left him, he bestowed a reasonable time upon the old couple, for whose ailments he left other medicines, possibly as wisely chosen, with reference to the intended objects, as -the salts, tartar- and snake-root. This done, our soi disant Doctor did not unne-: cessarily delay his departure. As he rode away, on his return, he stated his own conclusions to himself, thus- "He has got box and papers! But this fellow knows nothing of them, and he is the only other survivor. Bostwick has hidden them from his confederates, which is pretty much like hiding them from all the world. What more do I want? If he hides them from all others, I am quite as well satisfied that he should hide them from me. Let them rot in thieir hiding place, and let him rot in Jamaica or - in a hotter i'egion! Heshall trouble me no more!" CHAPTER XL. THE HAZARDS OF THE DIE. W'HLE Mc]Kewn was playing the physician his- confederates, Drummond and Barton, had made -their way back to, the tent- where the Squatter had been left, prepared to put in practice the policy which the- first mentioned person had- suggested. They found Bostwick stretched at length upon the ground, with his head and shoulders resting against the chehto the cup of Jamaica and bottle by his s'de, and a pipe in his mouth, from whichan occasional puff only, betrayed the half drowsy state of the smoker. He roused himself up as they came in, but it was evident, from his flushed face and the wildness of his eyes,-that he had been 26 page: 302-303[View Page 302-303] aQt '- T TH^ETS WOA AND 1W DISTACF. excedigelydfreq uent in his potations, andt was now, as Driummond phlrasedit, in a: whisper to his associate. rather the worse for wear?.' This .was a condition that promised them muci facility in peforming the'duity confided to their hands. That Bostwick suffeded: o the effects of the liquor was not, however,. favoura- ble:!-to hishs! amiableness and Sweetness of temper. His natural sullenness had become savageness, anzd he abruptly asked- W here's McKewn r" ' le's about somewhere. He'll be in directly." ".Y;W ell, he'd better. I kain't wait, too lJng. I wants money!" 'Why,youve -fot morey, man! Where's all that you won from- :us, and what you had before .r" "'-htat:!" said he, thrusting his hands into -his pockete, and drawing-forth and displaying the contents- What's tha;! I tell you I'wants a hundred guineas from IcKewn--not i guinea ]eso--and I must hev' it!" "( A hundred guineas!" exclaimed Barton in unaffectel1 aston- ishment. "e Why, what the devil doss he owe you a hundred guineas for 7" "What! Bqt that's my bu-iness! i He owes me a grnat deal more, ef the right was known, and I'll make him know it afore rm done with tim. Hes too mean a rascal, by thunder, to be a white man p! XJoplk you, Bostwick, that's not the way to speak of a person tl at'ssfipding-yo u the grub -you eat!", said Barton. Drummond nuAdgedWshis-companipn,i and in/a whisper- saidi-- '-D-ons't. +apswer:. ghe: druniken fool, o answer him accotding to "Gtib 1 ind m' e -! And who, the h-11 tells you th'at I owes sichi!feallow; aS MR^ewn aiy thanks. for any thing. It' he -owes- me;:*- and: ;he :shall: rpay me, too,0r- sweat for it. I say hes as dirty. ard4g as 6ever r un. withouta nose; and ef you; don't like, what I ^ , say,jet uryyou had,.-to:makeh -e speak moia agreeable; and 4 - I ' - and, 7 otr u 1 ITHE HAZARD OF THE DIE, 303 see what'll comel of that. I'm a-man eeny day for my inches against the inches of eeny other man!" "Pshaw! what are you both mouthing about?. You're both of you drunk, I reckon, or so near on the road to staggers that you'll never reach it b yourselves. Shut up both of you, and let's have a drink all round. I'm as thirsty after work as a bull-frog after a dry shower. Come, Bostwick, my boy. you don't mean to soak up all the Jamaica in your own sponge." "Thar it is;-iI'm not onreasonable with eeny man, and will jine you, ef drinking's the word and no offence meant. But that don't make me onsay what I've said of McKewn. He's as mean as gal-broth, and a rascal to boot!" k"Well, that's just as you and he pleases. We shan't fight for either of you. You're both of you able. to do your own fight- ing, I reckon." "He fight!" quoth the Squatter. "Never! onless with your. we'pon or mine. He'll use our fingers for the skrimmage always, yet always forgit to pile our hands when its done.' I say he owes me more than a hundred guineas, ef I'm-to git my rights; and I'd like to see the pWhite man that says' lie' to me!" This was said rising, and with a fierce look at Barton. Drum- mond again nudged his companion, in order to check any ebulli- tion of defiance which he might be disposed to offer; a necessary precaution, as Barton was one of that irritable'race who too fre- quently smelt the fire, when there was really nothing to be found but smoke. "Psho!" interposed the peace-maker, Drummond, "Why the devil do you talk of fight, when I talk of drink. None but a fool fights so long as the liquor lasts. Here, hand up the bottle, Bost, if you're sober enough for it, and empty your cup. I go for a full swallow all round, fresh from the fountain. Come, Barton, smooth off your rough-dry visage, and suck. You shall drink first,'if not too bashful; and if you are-that, leave it to me to x page: 304-305[View Page 304-305] j9304 THE- SWORD A!ND THE. DISTAFF. ,show you how the thing may be done. Quick with the cup Bostwick, there's no time to be lost. I want to get $t the pic- :tures. I want to win back some of my money." ",Or put a leetle more into the heap," answered the Squatter, as he carried the cup to his lips, and emptied it. ,"iw fill,'] quoth Drummond. "After yqu first." "Well, there's no use taking up preciousl time makong faces; here, boys, is good luck to all' good fellows. Theworld's made up of tojsorts of people-those who live for other people, and those who livebyy other people. I'm one of the last, but I )n 't com- plain or quarrel with the irst, seeing that we can't exactly do without 'em. I'm for live and let live." -- ;K "Th-at's w-hat:I'm a thinking. It's only jest rigit anc nateral, responded the Squatter, warmly. "I aint, any hov, an onreasol- -able'iman. :,.you, first, Mr. Barton," he continued, witl amiable tone,; but witt something ceremonious in his. manner. :,L"nrinklyousel', sXa;dBarton, "I aint in a hurry . "And I aint in- no lurry neither," answered the Squetter. "I aint such a .dog'when Im a-tharsting, ,that I must jump rightinto .This was said da dly. He had not been sufficien-ly recon- d-i to the ;other, not to misconstrue every t ha he said. Bmaton sa w his error, t ,; O -4O;I di'dntmean that, Bostwick ,so don't be wo fish. I'll drink and have dohne: with- it; so, fill up for 'me, DrJmnmond. Your heith, men,h and good profits always to ,.gcod fellowship:' -- "Ad a -teous .pay wh;en the work is done,"l added Bostwick. ;"r 4 :ii fq" uothit Drummond "That's goo doctrie!. And - ::ow, boys, . we've gI no more to do to-night much, a yV of us, shal we urn -upitTherpictues,-, Im: ready ,toe face you with the ^goldfinijes+BpstwckP--- I got a sma1 supply from Forbe . - ':.Forbesw! w-ho'sj he" 8"Jo -r. -TE HAZARD OF THE DIE. 805 "The captain of the schooner, and a-fellow you're born to like." t" I does'nt know ]aim." "But you will. And that reminds me. What say you to go- ing aboard? .We cari play there better than here, and there's one more man with money in his pockets." "Who-the Captain " "Yes; to be sure, Forbes; a fine feklow as ever tripped an X anchor, and, I reckon, with guineas enough to buy and sell us all. He hasn't been sailing between Charlestown and Jamaica these five years not to have crammed more than one sea-chest to bursting." "Let him come here," said Bostwick. L He can't! Can't leave the vessel. Butl he'll be infernal glad to see us aboard, and will give us the best of liquors,a good table, good lights, and a supper after it,--all much better than we can get here. What say you?" "I'm willing," answered Barton. "I aint," was the reply of the Squatter. "I don't like the smell of the sea and the smell of the ship. It always hurts me, and makes me -feel oneasy. Give me the feel' of the solid airth under my foot. It's'a sort of tempting of -Providence to try to ride or- walk on a shifting thing like the water. The Jamaica is good enough for * me, jest here, and I've found it a good thing without any water at all." Barton would have argued the case with the Squatter, but Drummond, the better politician, yielded the point- at the proper moment, and before the victim should have suspected the hook concealed in the untaken' bait. He made a-merit of necessity, and declared himself quite satisfied with any arrangement, parti- cularly if it called for no delay. -"We are enough for fun," said he, " and have gold enouigh for a smart fight till the small hours. Whether I lose or win, I shall sleep sound enough when the-time comes for it. Square yourself round, Barton, and haul up your legs. Best, throw a few*light-' 26*k page: 306-307[View Page 306-307] $SO- THE SWORD AND- THE DISTAfP. wood knots into thefire. Let's see what we're doin4 And now, put up your pennies. How do we begin--small or 'lage-white or, yellow " - "When I've once had the feeling of the yaLow, I d n't like to touch the white," quoth: Bostwick,". abut we'll begin small, ef ;t pleases you." And he put up a single guinea. The others did the same. The cut was made for the deal,. which fell to Barton, and the hands were dealt round. ' Let's liquor before :we begin," cried Drummond, lazing down his cards . - "i'm agreeable," said Bostwick, reaching round for the cup an i -bottle. Again' they drank; the sly Drummord barely dashing the water with- the rum, and Barton imitatirg his forbearance. The Squatter always drark in good faith; his own tastes never allowing him to supposej that his associates, in order - circun:- vent another, would .ever deny themselves. He was further de- ived-:y,-Dlrupmmonds eloquent declarations in favour of gooI IorIQ. .It was his frequeint topic, and he even volunteered a :ithyr4ambic,-of rude fashion-probably his own-the burden of which gave a most glowing picture of the glory of the bacchan&- lian, and a most melancholy one of the sorrows of temperance,- which was fieicely chorussed- "'Tis the milk-sop that withers in autumn, : - And shakes, in the winter, with chilii Not heowho dives down in the bottle, And grows warm by the fire of the still!" - A mighty good song that, Drummond; ef I could sing, I'd larn it. 'Twould be good to sing when a fel:ow had no liquor. 'Twould almost warm him of itself; jest as one feels warm if he only rmells at the empty jug where the Jamaica has been kept. 0 S pae's trump,-and there's a lead for you." , The devil The ace " cried Barton, throwing down the ten of the same suit. *ame, 'S TIfE HAZARD OF TEE DIE. 3OC7 "Heh! I had you then!"' cried the Squatter, with a chuckle. "I wonder ef there's no more purties in danger, standing without any company. I'll fish for 'em." And the ace was followed by the king. "Dickins! why, you're a witch, Bost!" was the cry of Drum- mond,i as he yielded his knave to the lead., "It's luck only-it's time I had some, I'n a-thinking. Count up. I've oni to go." In a few minutes more the Squatter gathered up the stakes. "We'll double!" said Barton, pushing up two guineas. "Ditto!" quoth Drummond, doing likewise. "aI'm agreeable to any thing when the luck's with me," was the response of the Squatter, and the game was resumed with new interest. Other games followed, and ths fortunes of the Squatter were rising. "Let's liquor, boys. It may change the luck," was again the proposition of Drummond, carried zem. diss., and the parties drank. "I wonder where McKewn is!-d-n his splinters!" cried Bost- wick, as Barton now gathered up the stakes. "Be, here, directly. He's at the vessel, I reckon. If you're tired, we'll go there." "Tired! Id like to see the man what cou d tire me out at this business. Push on, Barton. We're a-waiting." "It'll come soon enough, Bostwick, for you; for I reckon luck's changing, and I mean to root you out to-night." "Kaint be did, by any man of your timbers, I'm a-thinking. What's that a? "A diamond." . "Throw on more lightwood-there's n seeing what one's got." "That's only because you've got so little, I suppose. What do you do?" "Stand, by jingo! Play to that!" flinging down a card. page: 308-309[View Page 308-309] 3808 THE SWORD END THE DISTAFF. "So I will, and one you wont be liking much." "The devil i You hbed the ace!" "Yes; and the deuce too!" "Jimini! that's what I call mighty bad fortin. I stools on king and tray." "Cut on both ends, high and low; and look at that and that!" flinging down kniave and ten. "Criki-Lord! what an etarnal hand!" "Scared, Best?" "Skear'd, never!-see by that, if I'm skearid!" And he now thrust up five guineas, and demanded that they should be covered. "You're sworn to make a short night of it, Best!" sa d Drum- mond. "At that rate, the time of some of us will be shbrt, too!" "Cut loose!" cried the Squatter-"I'm the old sarpelntnow. I'll wind you up i "I must have another sup of Jamaica, boys, to give me heart to begin," said Drummond. "There's too muLch to'lose, on an empty stomach. Who says for a sup?" "I'm consenting!" was the pliant answer of Bostwic. "But where the d-1 is McKewn?" . "He's about! He'll be here directly. And now, bays,-the bold better, the honest winner, and to him who can keep what he gits." It's a wise man to be'all three, I'm a-thinking, but i drinks it with a whoop! Whoop! whoop! hurrah! for the first horse and the best shot.! Whoop! whoop! hurrahi and the devil take McKewn!" ' "Amen!" quoth Drummond, echoing the pious adjuration-- then, in a whisper to Barton-"The snake's 'itten him fairly. It's time that we should win, now. When his gold's all gone he'll probably be willing to go too." "Whoop, old fellows, and at your p'inters! I'm th, old sar- pent, H-tell you, and: am going into you with a horn. Whar's the gould! oh! thar! It'sfifteen guineas I'm to take U)'." THE HAZARD OF THE DIE. 309 "If you can." Ef I kin! Ef be hang'd! I'm the man to take ' ef' by the collar, and make,bhim work in my harness. 'Ef's' no master of mine, and never was! I kin send him to the right about with a lwhoop! whoop! whoop! hurrah! and into the shiners!" The cards were to be dealt by the Squatter; but he had so many ejaculations to make, and a pause- accompanying each, that the process was a slow one. "Three to you, Drummond!-whoop, old fellow, I likes you." And, thus speaking, he threw the arm, with the. card hand, about the neck of the preferred companion, and drew him lovingly over into his lap. I "I always thought you a good- fellow, Bostwick, of a most tender heart." I "And who says I aint I'm as tender as a gal child. Oh! ef you could only see my Dory." "' Your what!" asked Drummond. "I didn't say 'what!' I said Dory! Dory's my oldest gal child, and a beauty of the forest, and nobody shall say any thing onrespec'ful about her." "To be sure not. She is a beauty."9' "I know'd you'd say so. You're a man of sense and a gentle- man, Drummond. You shall see Dory sdme of these days.- She's a gal child to please a gentleman. Well!--but why don't you play?" \ "Deal out the cards, then," said Barton, who was yearning to restore some of his lost gold to his pocket. "Deal!-well, I swow! but I:hev' the pictars in my own hand. That's strange. How's that!' "Why, to be sure,--you're dealing, and you've given me three. Go on to Barton." ' "Three to you, Barton, and three to me." The deal was finished after some further maudlin delay. Bost- page: 310-311[View Page 310-311] Il l 310 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. wick picked up his cards, and the habit of play contend& d success- fully for awhile with his drunkenness. He absolutely won the game. Barton became captious, and was kept in check only by the vigilance of'Drummond. The latter, finding that -,he Squat- ter was still- able to play his cards with habitual skill proposed another draught of Jamaica; but Bostwick had undergone a nev phase of drunkenness and feeling. He refused doggedly . Th maudlin had given place to the sullen. "No! rm blistered ef I do! I'll not drink agin jest now Drink yerself, ef you likes it. I don't. It don't do me ro goclr I'm a-thinking of my children. Jest now, I talked of Dory, an( you didn't know what I meant. And when I wanted to deal, I forgot all about it. That makes me know I've had jest enough for a sober man. Jamaica aint a sensible liquor ef you takes too much of it. I've had my share for this drinking." "You're right!" quoth Drummond. "I proposed as a matter of course, seeing I wanted a drink myself, but it's true, Bost, l thought you had a dose large' enough for your business lalf a: hour ago." "I You don't mean to say I'm drunk!" '\ No! not exactly drunk, but a little in the fog, that's al!" "In the fog! It's a sign of fog is it,- when I've been doing al the winning." "Psho!" said Barton. "That's all luck-lu3k don't ask if a man's drunk or sober when she turns on his side." "You think so! It's luck! well! we'll try luck a leetle more. You don't mind fattening the sheep" ." "How much ." , "Oh! it don't- matter; put down your gould, as mut h as you wants to see kivered. That's all I ax!" The pile was soon raised. The cards dealt; the gan e played and the prize won. Drulamond was the successful namester. His success continued until the last guinea of ;he Squa tter was \ , , THE HAZARD OF THE DIg. 811i pnt up. It was lost also. Bostwick was once more reduced to his shillings, and pretty well sobered, by the reverse of fortune. The shillings, in turn, became the prize of his opponents,-and, starting to his feet, he seized the bottle, and swallowed a fearful draught of the fiery liquor. "' Where is that bloody satan, McKewn?" ' Can you get more gold from him, think you?" demanded Drummond, with a pleasant sneer upon his countenance. "Kin I?" he answered. "Ef I let him off with less than a hundred guineas, may I never taste a drop 'agin." "Let us seek him at the vessel. I have no doubt we shall find him there. I'll go with you as -long as there's any hope of the guineas." "Come, then! Blast his liver, he's a-dodging me. But he don't know me yit. I'll feel the bottom of his pockets, or the bottom of his heart, this time, ef he's got any." "Another draught before we start!" cried Drummond, rising to his feet. The others joined him in his potations. Then, they all proceeded to the river bank, against which, almost touching it, lay the vessel. ! "You'll] go with us on board?" "No! You go, Drummond, and bring him out. rI'll wait for you here." ; Barton would have tried to persuade Him, but Drummond again interposed. "No," said he, " there's no use. If he gets more money, he'll only want to go back to the tent to play." And the two went on board the vessel, which lay quiet, rocking with the tide, nobody visible on her decks, and evelry thing silent around.- They soon disappeared fi'om the sight of the -Squatter, who threw himself down upon the grass to await their return- with McKewn. While he lay there, half stupid, yet full of secret rages, three men left the brigantine and approached him. Ho' page: 312-313[View Page 312-313] 312 THE- SWOR' ND THE mDISTAiY. noted their appearance. and concluded them to be the two persor-s who had just left him, returning with McKewn. TLey had reached him, when he discovered that they were strangers, and all sailors. "Where's McKewn," said he, rising to his feet. "In the cabin," was the reply of one of them, "and the ca-. tain's spinning a long yarn. He says you must come ;o him." "'ll see him d-d first. Tell him to come to me." "Oh! -that's all gammon, my hearty. You must go to him." With these words the spokesman laid a Land on Bostwickjs shoulder, lightly and without any show of vio ence; I ut a some- thing in the tone and manner of the fellow seemed to a arm the Squatter; he pushed him off, recoiled, and clhpt his hand to his side for his knife. It was gone. He was disarmed. Not a m - ment was allowed for parley. He was at once grapFled by all the three, lifted off his legs in a moment, and, struggling all tie while, was carried on board the vessel. Suddenly, Le was let down-into the dark -but open hold, and slid down and aw y, as le thought, into the-bottomless depths of the sea. But hea soon en- countered a solid object. He rolled over a p'le of rice barrels; and grasped at them with the bold of one in mortal dread of siniking. The stars, for a single instant, were visible overhead But a single instant. The opening was then darkerned by te figures of his captors. He strove torise and shrieked -o them in question, appeals and curses; but, with rude laughter,; they cla t down the hatches, and left him in unmitigated darkness. The hours went by wearily, and, in utter exhaustion, the captive-slep!. When he awakened, he almost swooned with -he sickless which lie felt.'-. The billows were rocking beneath him. He v as already out'ait sea.- When suffered, to appear on- deck, the land was mere riband along the verge of the ocean. He was fying, per- force, from his familiar swamps and fastnesses, his wionman anti her children - \ PORGY'S 'NOTIONS 'OF THE USEFUL. 31'3 "Oh! Dory! Dory!" he cried, as this conviction forced itself upon him. 'Fm aguine, from you, the Lord only knows whar', and maybe won't never see you no more!" "One danger disposed of," said McKewn, to himself, as he left the cabin-for he had been there at the moment when the Squat- ter was brought on board--" and if Forbes- and- Drummond can talke a hint, the impudent scoundrel will gi've his secrets to the sea rather than the air. His mouth is stopt forever!" Not so fast, McKewn.. The sea has been known to give up its secrets as well as its dead. We shall see in due time what is to come of all this! CHAPTER XLI. PORGY'S NOTIONS OF THE USEFUL. As we have no particular motive, just now at least, in following -the fortunes of the Sqiuatter upon the seas, let us return to- the dry land, and, with all speed, to the ruined homestead of Glen- Eberley. We left Capt. Porgy and his two companions, Mill- house and Fordham, about to console themselves with supper, af- ter the fatigues of the firuitless search after Bostwick. Lance Frampton had gone to see his sweetheart, and the-party -of three proved quite adequate to the supper in his absence.- Tom, the cook, had recovered his good humour; Pomp, the waiter, after a frequent lessoning fromthe flat broad hands of his senior, had im- proved in knowledge ofi his duties, and activity in their perform- ance; and the evening repast had been enjoyed with an equal de- gree of satisfaction by all parties. Fordham did not long remain after supper, but took his leave while Porgy and Millhouse were 25 page: 314-315[View Page 314-315] o ,t THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. lighting pipes. While he remained, however, he was an arnsed listener to the guardian councils of the latter, whose self-esteem found grateful exercise iri suffering the guest to see how strictly he held the reins of auth rity in his grasp, and .wiih what jt dg- ment he could rebuke the want of it in his superior. He had em- ployed himself in twitting the Captain with all the thought ess, profligate and expensive performances of which he had leen guilty, not only throughout his campaigns, but, as far as h - had acquired a knowledge of them, during all his life previous.. The subject had been brought up by a repeated allusion to the g iinea bestowed upon the Squatter's child. "It's the weakness of the Captain, Mr. Fordham," quoth he,- "his wery worst infarmity. I'm a most thinking its the on] one he's got,-but its a mighty bad one for a man that wants every thing on his plantation for the working of a crop. Sich a man as no right to be ginerous. It's a sort of cutting off one's own: ife to lengthen other peoples. Now, all through the war 'twas jes: -he same thing. He'd be a giving, whenever he had it, and to all sorts of people. And he was always a giving to ;hem pe-sons from whom there was no sort of reason to ixpect to git any -h:ng back again. Now, you know, there's n&o sort of charity in co'ng for people who kain't do nothing for you. The proper sense of charity is always to git back for it a leetle more ane a leetle bet- ter than you give. But Captain Porgy could never, so faiT as I see, git the right sense of charity and gineJrosity. he was al ways a wasting himself on people who hadn't iothing, &nd warr.'t in the way to git any thing. Ef there was a poor camp woman that had lost her man in-a skrimmage, the Cappin was the first to empty his pockets into her lap. I've seed him do it a dozen tinas. Now, that was all great foolishness. Ef he had given her a mat- ter of three or four English shillings, or we'll say fve or ten or twenty pounds continental currency, after it had got so pler-tiul that one might work with'a pack of it, and not aim his potatoes PORGY'S NOTIONS OF THE USEFUL. 315 after all,-why there mout have been a justifying of his doings; but to fling the guineas away, the raal grit, all yellow jackets, three, five, ten-jest as many as he had-when the shillings would have done as well,-that was the sin and the foolishness of the business. And the Cappin has been very foolish and a great sin- ner in that way. TLen he'd waste himself on the sort of com- pany he kept. Now, Cappin, what did you ever see in that blasted longshanks, Oakenberg,-that called himself a doctor-a fellow that sickened and killed more good fellows with his yarbs and poultices than he'll ever meet in heaven,-what did you see in that skunk of a fellow to make you do for him what you did? Why, Mr. Fordham, would you believe it, the Cappin let that fellow, who was next door neighbor to a born eediot, set at his mess and feed daily, when Oakenberg couldn't neither bring in food nor game; could'nt work nor fight; was the skeariest chap you ever seed, and could pnly talk conceited about snakes, and how to be safe in fighting in the army. That fellow lived on the Cap- pin, and though the Cappin dispised the fellow, and poked all sorts of fun at him, yet he gin him money, and clothes, and food, when he wanted them all himself. At a famous scrimmage we had here with Fraser at Parker's Ferry, the Cappin mounted a British officer, and toll him to deliver, and wanted to make him prisoner; but the red coat was either mighty drunk or mighty sassy, and when there was no sense in it, for he could'nt git off, he run his horse close agi(n the Cappin's and flashed his pistolin his face. Ef the dirty letle we'pon hadn't a-missed fire I reckon he'd ha' killed him. Well, the Cappin fired up furious, and cut down the poor fellow at a jerk-cut him clean through his skull to his chin. Tom run in-Tom 'members all-don't you Tom r" "To be sure I member," quoth Tom, " wha' for bender? Maus- sa owe me for dat ossifer coat, and breeches, and boots, he gee way to de Doctor, to dis day." "Tliat's it!" exclaimed Millhouse. "That's it! Tom ran in, page: 316-317[View Page 316-317] 316 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. stript the officer, coat, breeches, boots and all, and gh e-otisly offered 'em to his master, the Cappin there, after all the Ighting was over. What do you think? Jest at that moment he sees Dr. Oakenberg, with his long shanks and high shoulders pretty nigh naked, and he kicks the whole pile over to Oakenberg." "Das' true, mass copp'ral! Jes' I see dat, I make a grib at de close;-de Doctor hab no right for take emrn;-and maussa tu'n round short and kick me over. Maussa promise for pay me guinea for em, but I nebber see de shine of dat guinea face to d!s day." "It's all true, Mr. Fordham, as Tom tells you; he kills;the red coat with his own hands,-and when Tom strips him he gives his rigimentals,-first rate broadcloth coat, hat, boots and Ireeches to the meanest and most undesarving skunk in the whole army." "Oh! 1 Millhouse," quoth Porgy, " had you seen the wistul eyes of poor Oakenberg, as he-saw those breechies, and looked down at his own bare legs ' " "D-- n his bare legs! He had the meanest looking legs in the army-- "-- "The very reason why they should be covered out of s'ght." quoth Porgy. "But not at your cost and ixpense!" "Why, Millhouse, listen to Tom, ahnd he will tell you tLat it was at his cost and expense. There was the double beauty of my proceedure; I not only clothed the naked, but compelled that selfish scoundrel, Tom, to become charitable." "Psho! don't I know that you'll pay Tom yit! Don't I know, and don't he know, that he'll git more than he bargained fo--" "What! more kicks than coppers?" "No! more goulden guineas than you promised. The 'ruth is, Cappin, that you're never so foolish as when you've got :nDnev. You don't know any decent way to git'rid of it. : There, yAu was always for having that fellow, Dennison, about you, eatin' the 'lowance of other men, and drinking more than his share of the I PORGY' NOTIONS OF THE USEFUL. 317 Jamaica always-and "or what? What could he do? He warn't a reasonable, useful r-ran. He could'nt cook a steak, or bake a loaf, or sew his own br;eeches, or do nothing. He could only joke, sing, and tell redickilo-is stories, and make them foolish po'tries- tink-it-a-tank, tink-it-a-tank--one word knocking agin another at the eend of the line, as I may say, agin natur,-for where do you hear decent, sensible people talking with a bell ringing in their ears all the time? That fellow could'nt keep any thing--money,' clothes, hat, shoes,-every thing went, some how, and yit the fel- low was such a blasted fool that he never seemed to care about it at all, and would jest keep on, laugling and singing, and making his tink-tanks, and thiqk-thanks, with a sort of looseness that was vexatious." - "Come! core! Mil-house. you must not be running down my poet. Dennison is, a great fellow and has frequently saved me from suicide. Mor6 than once, when we were starving in the swamps, I should have Icut my throat,'or yours, Millhouse, but for the consolation which Dennison brought me in his verses and songs; and Oakenberg,l though .as you say, a great fool, was yet a fool with a relish. He had the virtue of making himself laughed at, and that afforded relief to sensible people. He had his uses, and you must think bettei of him. I should'nt be at all surprised to see both Dennison and Oakenberg here before long. I asked them both to come and see me." "The d-1 you did! i You don't say, Cappin." "Ay, but I do! you ;may look for them both some of these days." The Corporal threw up hands and eyes in horror. "Thar it is! The old way! There's no eend to the flinging away of some men's guineas.: Why, Lord bless you, Ckppin, ef once thev git here, you'll nev-r git shet of them. They're people to stick like a pitch plaster, and to draw like -a mustard."?' "Well, they must stick then! Poor devils, they must stick 25* i page: 318-319[View Page 318-319] 318 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. somewhere. The world owes them a living, ant they mist have it. They were born to a certain amount of sunshine, anc. if they can find it at Glen-Eberly, while I'm master of it, they 're wel- come." "Why, save you, Cappin! They'll do nothing here for a living. They kaint work and they wont." ' Well, if they can't work here, they can work no where, Cor- poral." "That's true! Let 'em starve then and be !" "No! no! You don't say that from your heart-olly from your head, Corporal, and your brains, just now, have g6t into a kink, in consequence of the care and anxiety which you feel about my fortunes. But don't be afflicted. Oakenberg and Pennison, should they come here, will both work for me, though perhaps not in the fields." "I'd jest like to onderstan(. how, Cappin." "How!" quoth Porgy, emptying his pipe,-then looks ng up and around him, with a somewhat vacant gaze, silent th] while, as if listening-after a few moments of pause he said- " Do I not hear a bird? a mock-bird, singing? Hark! do you not-hear it now?" All parties appeared to listen; at length, says Millhous -- "It's the singing of the fire, I reckon, Cappin. I dor't hear nothing. It's too soon in the season for mockinghirds to sing." "No! not when the weather is good. I have heart them, years ago, in all the trees around the house, sing'ng throtgh the winter, and frequently at night, and all night. They attach them- selves to old and well settled habitations, and will rear their gene- rations for a thousand years in the same trees, if left undisturbed. They belong to man. I am disposed to think they were c eated for him, and to do this particular duty. You like their music, Mr. Fordham, do you not?" "Well, Cappin, I can't say that I ever hears 'em muchi onless I PORGY S NOTIONS OF THE USEFUL. 319 when somebody tells me to listen. As for liking their music, I confess, Cappin, I'd much rather hear a good fiddle." "And so would I," quoth Millhouse, "though I don't count fiddle music as much either. A good horn is my music, and I count a boat horn on the river as the sweetest of all kinds of music. I kin listen to that hafe a night, that is, when I aint too much tired and hungry." ; "I like that too, Millhouse, and I can relish a good fiddle in a crowd. But what would you think of a person who should tell- you that he did'nt relish the boat horn, Millhouse." - "Why, I'd say he might as well be stone deaf and blind too." "At least, you would'nt suppose he was any the better man for not having an ear for the music of the horn." "No! I'd be thinking he was rather the worse for it." "Precisely'! well, you'll permit me to feel the music of a bird's song and not think me very foolish of wicked perhaps, if I say I like to hear it very much." "Well, I s'pose not! Every man to his own liking. I reckon there's a sort of natur in every man's liking." "Exactly! That's the very word. There is a nature in it; and it was to feed this nature, and to work upon it in a myste- rious way, that God appointed the birds to build their nests in the trees that surround a man's dwelling. Now, you know, that it is- a fact, however curious? that singing birds never harbour in unin- habited countries. In our great forests, you never hea- birds. The smaller birds all perish from the larger ones, and they shelter themselves in places which are inhabited, in order to be safe. And they reward man for his protection, by their songs, and by the destruction of insects. 'Now, Millhouse, Dennison is one of my song birds. He sings for me when I am sad. He makes music for mie which I love. It is soul music which I owe to him, which finds its way to the ear of the heart, and seems to fill it with sun- shine. Now, I call that being very useful to me." page: 320-321[View Page 320-321] 320 THE 'SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. "I could see how 'twas useful ef he was to eat up tie grubs and insects, jest like ithe birds, but --" "And so he does, Millhouse. The grubs and insects of the heart are itss cares, its anxieties, its sorrows, its bad feelings, and vexatious passions. He drives them away-he destroys them. He is appointed for this very purpose, and if men were Rvise, they would rejoice when they could have such a bird of the so 1 under their roof trees. It would prove that they had souls, if tl ey could show that they have an ear forlhis music. No;, you are not any better, Corporal, because you want an ear for soul-mus c, It is your misfortune, Corporal, and you ought to be sorry for yourself, not angry with the musician, whose songs you!can't un .erstand. You should pray for the proper understanding,' and w :ir for it, too; for you must know that an ear for music of all sorts is to be acquired; and the ear opens so as to correspond withl the glroving wishes of the heart and the growing wisdom of the mind. You hear a great deal said, perhaps, of education. Every boc'y seems to wish for education. I have heard you deploring, ,'ery fre- quently, the fact that you had no schooling. Now, schooling and education are meant for this very purpose, to give us aL ear for music,--the -music of' birds as well ns men, the music of -JLe soul, as well as of the throat-music which fills the heart as well as the ear-music which is not only sweet, but wise,-wnich not only pleases but makes good ;-for, after all, the great secret of education is to open all the ears,-which we call senses--o a man, so'that he can drink in all the harmonies of that world of music; which we commonly call life!-Do 'not, my dear Corpo'll, sup- pose you are any better because you do' not comprehend such music as George Dennison makes; and do not suppose that George is any-worse man because he is too apt to give av'ay, and perhaps waste, the things which he needs himself, quite Ins much as the person to whom he gives them.' George finds it p-.ofitable to give away-to waste! If you knew the satisfaction which r POROGYS NOTIONS OF THE USEFIJUL. 321 e feels I at making' other people happy, you might be even more extravagant. Ee may be wrong, sometimes, in his giving; but you are not altogether right in judging him so harshy. He values certain things too little; you, perhaps, value the same things too much. You both may be forgiven your offences, which are due to a want of proper education, -provided you are modest enough never to censure the music which you do not understand." Porgy lighted his, pipe after this long speech. Millhouse scratched his head and looked dubious for a while; but after a brief pause, he resumed the subject in this fashion: "Well, Cappin, all that may be very wise and sensible, though there's some of it I don't 'zackly onderstand; but I'm willing to let it pass this time. iBut supposing all you say of George Den- nison is true, and I reckon there's some reason in it, I'd like to know what sort of music you gits out of Doctor Oakenberg."- "Millhouse, do you remember a little Frenchman, named Pelot, that joined us when Iwe were making the forced march after Gainey, towards the Great Pedee ." "In course I do." ! "Well, do you remember a reel in a bottle that he had, that amused half the soldiers, and was too much for all-of them to get out of thie bottle without breaking it." "Yes, I tried it many a time myself." "You knew that it was put into the bottle after the bottle was made, and that it could be taken out in the same manner." ' In course." "Well, did you ever hear that reel sing, or speak, while in the bottle?" '! "Lord love you, no i -Iow could it?" "Did you ever see it come out of the bottle and dance?" "Diccance! no!" "And you never saw it hoe, or cut wood, or kill game, or cook food, or make clothes, or fight the enemy, or do any thing which you consider useful." page: 322-323[View Page 322-323] 322 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. "Never!" "Yet, you were curious about it. You tried many a time to find out the secret. It employed you-it interested yo -it inte- rested most of the soldiers; yet, in itself, it was perfec y worth- less. It could neither sow nor spin, i: could not even grow--it was of no sort of value to any body in camp." ' That's true, Cappin, though I never thought about I;." "Doctor Oakenberg, is my reel in a bottle. His sail is my puzzle; how it got into his carcass-where it does nothing useful- where it does not even grow-is the problem which arauses me. Now, Millhouse, whatever interests a man is valuable, dl ou'gh it neither works nor sings. Whatever may amuse a man ils an im- portant agent in his education. Whatever exercises the I ogenuity of man, though it be a fool's brains, or a reel in a bottle, is worthy of his care and consideration. I assure you that shoui. George Dennison, or Doctor Oakenberg pay me a visit, they sha I both be welcome. I shall find use in both of them." Corporal Millhouse muttered something which was inaudible closing with-- "Well, Cappin, ef they once comes, they sticks. You will never git rid of them." "Be it so; the more helpless they are the more they pay for the shelter." "How's that, when they've got nothing." "God is good security for all the debts of the poor!" Millhouse fidgetted: Fordham rose to depart. Porgy did not rise, but extended his hand from the fireside. "Excuse me, Mr. Fodham. Corporal"-in a whisper-" the Jamaica." The hint was taken, and the two overseers hob-and-nobted after the prescribed fashion. Our Captain of Partisans reminded Ford- ham of his intention to visit Mrs. Eveleigh next day, acco:panied by his subs, and sent a courteous message to the lady, to that effect. When Fordham withdrew, Millhouse accompanled him v ' PORGY S NOTIONS OF THE USEFUL. 323 into the piazza and down the steps, to his horse, which was fastened to a swinging limb in fiont. "You hear what redick'lous notions the Cappin's got about these here things; and a most wasteful man would be be, ef there wa'n't somebody to keep a tight rein over him;" and he made the motion, with his one hand, of pulling in the steed.-"I does it where I kin, but it stands to reason I kaint go too far, seeing as how he was my commanding off'cer so long. But I gives it to him pretty plain, and right for'ad sometimes. But I aint the pusson altogether for it. In fact, Mr. Fordham, ef any thing's to be done with the Cappin, it must be by a woman-some raal lady that'll take his case in hand, and guide him right in his driving. Now, he's a raal good man, but a leetle shy of the womenkind. I'm a thinking, though its strange it should be, seeing how long he's been a sodger, that he's sort o' bashful. Ef he could git a fine woman now for a wife, a raal lady, I reckon it would be a wonderful fine thing for both on 'em. See what a fine plantation he's got here, agoin' to ruin headlong in his hands onless I kin save it-and I'll tr my best,-but I'd be sure of saving him and it too, ef so be he had a wife to back me in the business. So long as he's got no wife, you see, he'll be run down by these idle rascals of the army, that aint fit to do nothing but eat double 'klwance of grub, and swallow any quantity of Jamaica. You hear what he says of this fellow Oakenberg, who is a sort of yarb Doctor, and a most extremelous fool,-and this George Dennison, who makes Jingling stories,---that keeps a sort of time with every now and then, a tink-it-a-tank, tink-it-a-tank. Well, these chaps never works; they'll come here and eat us out of house and home, and all bekaise the Cappin haint got a good sensible woman to back me when I wants her, and keep the Cappin in order. You see, alter all, it's a good woman and a wife that he wants to make all things right ag'in on this plantation." Fordham admitted the wisdom of this opinion. page: 324-325[View Page 324-325] 324 THE .SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. "As for these idle fellows, they gi;s no incourage aent. from me. Ef I have the leetIest chance, 'll send both on 'eri off, and all on 'em that comes, with a flea in their ears. I ain; gwine to let the Cappin waste himself and his su stance upon sich wagrints. I'll have to keep a strict line upon him, for ef he once gits the bit betwixt his teeth, there's no stopping him, and he'll mnash and tear every thing to pieces. 'Taint bekase he's nateral y vicious, but so long as he's been living in the worldlhe aint grown bridle wise; but Lord bless you, a woman could manage himn to prefcc- tion. It's the only saving of him and this fine property, and l'm glad you 'gree with me about it, Mr. Fordham." Fordham shook himself free with difficulty. The Coi'poral had many last words, the burden of which invariably led td the repe- tition of'the one opinion, that a wife was the one thini' needful to the wants and safety of his superior. -/,i CHAPTER XLII. MLLHOUSE ON THE UTILITARIAN PHLOSOPHY. L CAPPIN," says the Corporal, returning to the hall, wlhere Por- gy still sate, half drowsing, amidst voluminous wreaths of smoke which poured from his pipe,-"Cappin, you must 'scuse rhat I'm guine to,say ef I speaks to you mighty free, for you see, I'm your friend to sarve, and I reckon jest abou. as good a friend, for hon- est, upright and downright sense and sarvice, that ever 'you had in all your born days. I don't mean to say that I love you better than some others,-say, the Ersign, and Tom, the cook, but I'm bold to detarmine, that I love you more sensible, and for ' ** \ MLtHOUSE ON THE UTILITARIAN PHLOSOPHY. 325 sarving and helping sarvice, than a'most eeny other person, let 'em be as wise as they please. That being the case, I say you must 'scuse me, ef I make free to put you right in the way you've got to go, and show you how you've got to put your foot down for the rest of yonr journey in this life. You must 'scuse me, I say, ef I roughs a leetle too much along the tender places." "Excuse you, Milliouse? oh! surely, my good fellow. You are usually sO very modest and forbearing, tender and scrupulous, that you may well be permitted a little occasional roughness in helping a friend through the world." "'Zackly, Cappin, you're right; you takes the right look at the thing as it ought to be, sensible as I wants you." "You are always tender, Millhouse, even in dealing with your enemies. I remember seeing you hew a fellow half in two with your sabre, then, as he was falling, drive the iron handle into hisg mouth, breaking every tooth in his head. Certainly, his teeth would only be a mortification to him, after he had lost all capacity to eat ;-and yet, Millhouse, I should like to be buried in posses- sion of a good mouth'ful of them. Your tenderness in my case, is of a like fashion always; and if, as a good surgeon, you should occasionally be compelled to be a little rough'-probing wounds already healed, or such as are absolutely incurable, in order to sat- isfy yourself that there are some sensibilities yet remaining to the patient-I am clearly of opinion that you should be allowed the privilege of doing so, jf only that the humanities of your nature should be kept lively, and in becoming exercise." "Jest so; and I must say for you, Cappin, that sometimes you're quite sensible, and have a good onderstanding of what's right and proper in affairs of business. Ef you didn't so much love sich company as George Dennison and Oakenburger, there's no telling how knowing you'd be; and ef you'd only shet up, and not talk about things no common-sense pusson can onderstand, it would be a great deal the better fori you. .Now, you don't think 26 T t I page: 326-327[View Page 326-327] 326 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. that this good fellow, Ford!ham, know'd what you meant to say when you was a-going it about Dennison's po'try, and soul music, and all sich fly away matters? I could onderstand it all, bekaise I've hair'n you at it, day and night, throughout the campaigns.- But how was he to l'arn it? You might jest as well hev' talked it to the man in the moon. And what was the use of it, ef he did onderstand? Why, he wouldn't va ley it a continental d-n, which every body knows won't buy a calabash of skim milk. Now, as you dont know nothing about farming, or rice planting, and as you hev'nt any sober idee about any sort of business ex- cept fighting,-and I say it, myself, you're prime good at that- I'm a thinking that you'd better shet up quite, when goin it in company with men of business like Fordham and me, and jest listen to what we're a saying. You'll l'arn something by it, I tell you." "Do you really think so, Corp ral?" "I swow, but I does. It's the only way to l'arn." "It looks reasonable. Leave off talking myself and listen to you and Fordham." "Jest so! and ef there was any other sensible white man, of; business, you might listen to him too; for onderstand me, I'm not pretending that Fordham and me are the only people having a right sense of things in this world.-There's other people, I reckon, that have larned something of business; though they're rather scarce in these pairts." "It's possible! Well." "But there's a time when you might open, and hev' your say, Cappin; that's when you gits among people who has likings like yourself; young fellows who aint got ixperence in the world,- women folks,-and sich like." "You think Irnay venture to talk among the women, then?" Edzactly, Cappin; women are weak vessels that aint expected to be reasonable, and things will tickle their ears that are only MLLHOUSE ON THE UTILITARIAN PHLOSOPHY. 327 foolishness in the ears of a sensible man. They will listen to sich stuffas po'try and music, and all the time they're a losing the profits. They're made to sing, and to dance, and to dress up, and make themselves sweet to please the men-when- the day's work's over; and Lord, Cappin, you kaint say hardly any thing amiss, in the way of wanlty and foolishness, ef so be you says it lovingly, and with a sawt of fondness in your eyes all the time. Now, I've hearn you talk to women, and you knows prettyAmuch what the critters loves to hear. You kin talk it to them, by long stretches, and make it smooth travelling all the way. It's when you gits among their that I'm willing for you to open." "You are certainly indulgent, Corporal. I am to understand then, that, whenever there are ladies in the presence, I have. per. mission to speak." "Premission aint -he word, Cappin, for you see, you're your own master, and kin speak always, whenever you're a mind to, no matter whose in company." "Oh!Ah!" "It's jest, you see, as I'm idvising you, for your own good. Taint bekase I've got any power to shet or open your mouth, but I wants you to see, for your own self, what's best for your own benefit. You see youtr ixperence is jest none at all in the way of business. You don't know what's useful in the world. You only know what's pleasant,i and amusing, and ridickilous, and what be- longs to music, and poetry, and the soul; and not about the wis- dom that makes crops grow, and drives a keen bargain, and swells the money box, and keeps the kiver down. Now, I reckon, you'd always git the worst of it at a horse-swap. You'd be cheated with a blind horse, or a spavin'd, and you'd go off on three legs, though you come on four. Now, ef there's wisdom in this world-- that is raal wisdom-it is in making a crop, driving a bargain, gitting the whip hand in a trade, and always falling, like a cat, on one's legs. As for music and po'try and them things, it's all I. page: 328-329[View Page 328-329] 328 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. flummery. They don't make the pot bile. I likes the fiddle when there's a crowd, and after the day's wo k's done, and the horses fed; but ef there's one music in the world that's more sweet than another to the ears of a man of sense, its the music that keeps tune to the money coming in. I'm minded of what was said by a man up on the Edisto, not very far from Orangeburg, who was jest about-the most sensible white mar of all that country. He was one time at a sort of ball, or party, in the village, and there was a lady who was playing on the ha'psichord and singing, and she said to him, "Squire, does you love music?" then he up and said-"Music, Ma'am! kaitit say that I does, 'cept one kind." And, says she, "What kind's that, Squires?" Says he-"Ma'am, that's the music of my mills on the Edisto; they keeps a grind- ing and a sawing night and day, and all the time they seems to be a singing in my ears-' Dollar! dollar! dollar, oh:! dollar! dollar! dollar, oh!' That's the music for me, ma'amn!" and sure enough, that was what I call useful, business, marcantile music. He made a fortin by it, and died worth, Lord knows how much, but they did say, a'most four hundred thousand dollars! But any other kind of music is apt to draw the money out; not bring it in ; and that's the sin of it. It is, I say, a sinful practice that's always a dreaning the pockets, and never. putting any thing in." "It is clear, Millhouse, that you have studied the philosophy of music with great closeness. You are, evidently well prepared to be a teacher. You counsel me to speak as much about poetry and music to the ladies; as I please, but to avoid it wholly among men of sense, unless, indeed, I have something to say about mer- cantile music." "That's it! For,- look you, Cappin, jest give a look round to the world--' and here the Corporal rose, and stretched his one arm out with measured movement, circling the hall, as if grasping the poles-" look round at all the world, and wherever you look you see that the great needcessity every where is the gitting of XI^ MLLHOUSE ON' THE UTILITARIAN' PHLOSOPHY. 329 bread. When I says, gitting of bread, I means, of course, gitting of bread and meat, nd drink, clothes to w'ar and the tools to work with. But bread and meat is the first and greatest need- cessity; for without i, there would be no world, nor no men, nor no women. Now, then, what does I larn from that? Jest answer me that." "Well, Corporal, what you would learn from it, it might be difficult for me to say; you have studied the subject so profoundly that it is not easy to ollow you." "Well, Cappin, it-ought to be c'lar to you, but I'll show you. I larn from all that that the great business of men on this airth is eating-that is to say, eating and drinking, and clothing- fighting agin starvation and thirst and-cold weather." "It is certainly a business that is done pretty extensively-* universally I suppose, since I have never known a man or woman refuse to eat at proper hours." "And onproper hours too, and at all hours, Cappin; that is ef they hev' it. And the business of life is to hev' it. Now, ef that be the great business of life, it stands to reason that them occy- pations what don't bring in bread and meat and drink, or the money to buy it, is onreasonable, onnatural, and onrespectable occypations. Aint it cl'ar to you so?" ; "I'm afraid, Corporal, if I make any farther admissions you'll be for knocking George Dennison on the head." "Accordin' to the argyment, he and Oakenberg,and all of them worthless sawt of people that only makes music and not bread, ought to be knock'd on the head; as Scriptur says of the tree that don't bring fruit, ' hew it down and cast it into the fire.' Well, the laws of the land don't lfollow out the laws of God. Ef we was to cut down them idle fellows that sing and make varses when they ought to be at the plough tail, we'd be hung a'most without jedge or jury, jist as ef we'd been doing agin the laws of Scriptur, instead of following them out rightly. The men that 26* page: 330-331[View Page 330-331] 330' 'THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. makes the laws of .man, Cappin, I'm jubous, are mighty poor fol- lowers of the laws of God. Ef they wasn't, we'd git rid of a mighty great deal of rubbish." \ "Well, but, Corporal, when a man has earned all the bread and meat, and drink, and clothing, that he needs, is We to be sa- tisfied?' I ". Satisfied! no! He's to work on, and on, and what he's got over and above his wants, he's to send to market and sell, and git all the money for it he kin." "Ah! well,--what is he to do with that money?" "Why, increase, his force, and his land, to be sure." "Why, that will only increase his money!" "To be sure; and that's what he's to aim at. He's to go on gitting, and gitting, and gitting, to the end of the season, ontill Death gits him. As he gits, he kin increase his comforts-git better bread, more meat, pass from apple and peach brandy to old Jamaica-ef he likes it, git wine,-though I never seed the wine yet that could shine the same day in the face of good Ja- maica :-git better clothing ; hev' his horse to ride; prehaps his carriage, and jist make himself a sort of king, in the way of com- forts." Well, these got,-should he spend his money on- nothing else-?" "Nothing, that I kin see. He's got all that's needful. Then he's for gitting as good bargains as he kin-then he's for gitting to be a ruler ef he kin-gitting to be a Colonel or a Gineral in O the militia; gitting to be a Representative and a Senator in the Legislatur; gitting to be a Justus of the Peace; gitting to be a sawt of king over the people, and making them all feel that he's got the money to buy and sell 'em, every mother's son of 'em, ef he pleases." We11ll, that must be a very delightful sensation. But would you not use some of this money for charity---would you not give MLLHOUSE ON THE UTILITARIAN PHLOSOPHY. 33i, Oakenberg his l'ving, i-"only to catch snakes and make a collection? Would you not help Dennison to Iris dinner?'" 4 Not a copper on your singing birds and idlers. They should starve for me. Not a fellow that wouldn't work would I feed." "But, Millhouse, yo'l would do something for religion, wouldn't you e" "Why, to be sure. It's expected of a rich man that he'll- go rigilar to church and set a good example, and help pay for the preacher, and p I t something every month in the charity box, and be decent and rigilar, jist that he may'nt lose by it, sence people respects religion, and it might be onprofitable, and hurtful to one's business, ef he didn't make good sgnsi people should see. To be sure, I go for religion that's right, and every right -reli- gion's bound to ophold the man who is rich and helps to pay ixpenses." "You have admirably grasped the whole subject of profitable duty, Corporal. I should not have answered exactly as you have done, on the subject oft charity and religion, but I have no doubt that you have answered as correctly and fully as the most pro- found utilitarian philosophers would have done. And now, what sav you to a little Jamaica? It's a part of your system to drink as well as eat." ' It's the needful, Cappin." The Jamaica and water were brought by Pomyey, and when their cups were filled, quoth Porgy- "Well, Corporal, considering the lesson you've been giving-me, suppose we drink to the man who is wise enough to open his mouth only in the proper company." "That's it, Cappin; jist you mind what I've been telling you, and you'll work upwards yit into cl'ar water. You're quick to I'arn, I see; and only you give up this foolish po'try and soul musick, 'cept when you're among the women--and -listen with good will to what mer- of business and sense is a telling you, and there's page: 332-333[View Page 332-333] 3382 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. no saying how sensible you'll grow in time. Here's your health-- and the Lord presarve you, Cappin, and git you into a strong po. sitionwagin the approaches of the Sheriff." CHAPTER XLIII. MLLHOUSE TREATETH TOUGHLY OF THE TENDER GENDER. Suddenly the barking of adog was heard without. It's a dog!" quoth Millhouse. "Some nigger dog, I reckon. rll kill every nigger dog I see on the place. You hear that, Tom! you hear Pomp! 'member it boys. I don't 'low nigger dogs on any place where I'm manager. I knows what's the natur of a nigger dog, Cappin, and what they're kept for." "But, wont that be rather hard, Corporal? a negro likes coon and possum. Ask Tom there about possum." "Possum better dan pig, Maussa." "We almost learned to think so ourselves, Corporal, in the army. How often should we have gone without meat but from dogs bringing in coon and possum." "All coon dogs, on this place, Cappin, must be owned by a white man; by you, by me, or by the Lieutenant. A nigger dog is a hog-dog by n ter; and where the nigger eats one possum, he eats five pigs. : It's the infarmity of a nigger's dog and a nigger too, that a fatjpig makes his eyes run water. No nigger dog here, Cappin, onless you says so." "But, Corporal, -even if it be, as you say, that a negro dog is always a hog cog, and I'm perfectly prepared to believe the asser- tion, still there would be-no harm in having such an animal at MLLHOUSE TREATETH TOUGHLY OF THE TENDER GENDER. 333 Glen-Eberly, since it will be wonderful if a solitary pig is to be found on the premises." There was no gainsying this humiliating fact, and it took the Corpora- all aback for a moment, but only for a moment. He^ was a man of resources and prompt reply. "But they'll come, Cappin; pigs will hev' to come! You'll hev' to git ,half a dozen brood sows with your first money, and begin to stock the plantation." " ell,-Corporal, wont It be quite time enough then to get id of the dogs?" "it's a shorter way not to let 'em begin to harbour here. Lay down the law at the beginning. That's my way wherever I manages, and then there's no mistake." The barlking of the dog now became more audible without, the sounds alternating with sundry lively blasts of a bugle. It's Lance .Framptn," said the Captain; and the tread of horse's hoofs succeeded to the words. In a few moments the young Lieutenant entered the apartment, accompanied by a good looking dog of a somewhat mongrel aspect, a sort of cross of wolf, curi and beagle,--which shrunk back timidly towards the entrance, on finding himself confronted with so many strange faces,-or, he might possibly have seen something in the looks of the Corporal to inspire him with a proper caution. "Where did you get your dog, Lance?" "From Mrs. Griffin, Captain. She had two and only wants one, and she tells me this is a famous fine coon dog, which is no use to her as she can't hunt, so she gave it to me. We want fresh meat, Captain, and I'm for a hunt this very night, if I can get some of the boys to go." Pomp, who was in attendance, began to grow fidgetty. ' There s a volunteer Already," quoth Porgy, pointing to Pomp; "he has shifted his carcass from one leg to the other a dozen times since the dog made his appearance. Do you want to take a coon to-night, Pomp?" ^ page: 334-335[View Page 334-335] 334 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. T'ank you, maussa, I berry 'happy, ef you please." "To be sure, old-fellow. I'm quite pleased if you can make yourself happy by the performance." "I guine too," exclaimed Tom, the cook, who had just at that moment thrust his oily face into the apartment. "I too hungry arter coon. I usen to been know all 'bout de coon and possum quarters on dis place; and I tell you, ef dere's any body yer wid sense to find de fattest warmints yer he am!-me, Tom." "They'll all go ef you let 'em;" growled the Corporal. "They'll hunt all night and won't be worth a cuss to work to-morrow. Look you, Toni, don't carry off all the hands with you; let 'em sleep. You and Pomp are quite enough, or you may take one other fellow with you. Three on you ought to empty the woods of all the possums in 'em." "I yeddy, (sometimes yerry, otherwise 'hear you') mass Cop- poral," answered Tom impatiently, and by no means seeming to relish the voice of authority from that quarter: "Tom know berry well wla' for do in he maussa business. Coon and possum mus' be ketch in de time when der's no fresh meat for de pot.- So!-Pomp! Look at me, boy!" "I da look, 'uncle Tom," said Pomp reverently. "Tom berry quick for march, boy, but you hab for l'arn some ting fuss. You' bin in camp ebber, you'd ha' been l'arn at de rope's eend. Tak' dat bucket, boy, and run to de spring and git de wa- ter. S'pose mraussa want for drink when you gone and der's no water. S'pose gemplemans, ossifers and ginerals, happen for come in when you gone, and maussa hab for ax 'em to swallow de raw rum,-enty you'll feel mean 'nough when you yer 'bout it! Git de water, boy 'tir (stir) you' stumps, and help Peter git de light- wood. Der mus' be coon fight to-night, ef dem tory rascal aint eat de country out." This was said pretty much in such an aside to Pomp as the stage tolerates. Meanwhile, Frampton was making his report to the Captain, of his day's visit, and of certain friendly messages of MLLHOUSE TREATETH TOUGHLY OF THE TENDER GENDER. 335 Mrs. Griffin and daughter, in response to those with which Porgy had commissioned his Lieutenant. The former' appeared to take quite an interest in these particulars; a circumstance that seemed to produce some uneasiness in the Corporal. After a while he interposed with- "You're making a mighty long story of it, Lieutenant, and I'm a thinking you're a burning daylight. Ef you are to hunt the coons, the sooner you're off the better-the sooner you'll be back, and the niggers git their sleep and be ready for a good day's work to-morrow." Frampton quietly took the counsel, whistled his dog down the steps of the piazza into Ithe court where Tom was already busied in hewing lightwood for the necessary torches. So soon as he had, disappeared,' Porgy said- "Why what the d-1 sort of work can you put the negroes at to-morrow. Corporal? What's to be done?" "A hundred things; rails to be split; fences to be made; poles to be got out for nigger houses; land to be broke up for plant- ing; ditches to be cut; banks impaired ;-there's no saying how much is to be done!" 1 "But where are the tools, my good fellow, the hoes, shovels, axes, ploughs,-- " - "Don't you mind, Cappin. I'm overseer, aint I? Well, I've seed to all-that. Onder the piazza is all them spades, and shovels we've been a using to-day; and Mr. Fordham told me, without my axing, that he could spare me a few ploughs and axes, and other little matters ontill you could lay in supplies in town. He said 'twas the orders of Madam Ev'leigh that I should have 'em." "Mrs. Eveleigh is certainly as provident as she is liberal!" re- marked the Captain. "And its them very vrtues, Cappin, that you're a wanting here to make the pot bile, and to see that it don't bile over. Ef you'll keep your eyes right, Cappin, you won't let the chaince slip of page: 336-337[View Page 336-337] 336 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF, getting yourself into good quarters. It's cl'ar to me that Mrs. Ev'leigh's giving you the right sort of signs, and you'll be the blindest sawt of a sarcumstance of a white man, ef you don't take the right motion from what she shows. A nod's as good as a wink to a blind horse, and the man that wants more than the pull of a sleeve, from a fine woman, to onderstand what she wants, why I'm a thinking he aint the valley of a dead dog with three buzzards pulling different ways at his carkiss. I'm considerate of you, Cappin, and your sarcumstances, and I'm cl'ar to say that the charitablest thing you kin do, when you see how the cat wants to jump, is jest to open the window, and give her a cl'ar track. Don't you be a waiting upon Providence 'tell some wiser man walks in and takes the fat turkey off the nest. I'd be at her, bright and airly, to-morrow, and I wouldn't wait a week, ef she's , willing, before I brought her home to your own roost." "You're quick on trigger, Corporal. Does it not sometimes oc- cur to you that you're a very rapid man?" "I reckon 'tis bekaise I was born in a hurry. I come into the world in a hurry, and never waited for the midwife. I grow'd up in a hurry, and in all sawts of wickedness. I reckon no person ever l'arned his vices so quick as me. I never seemed to want book or teacher. Lord love you, I charged into 'em, jist as I charged among the enemy's baggage, and held on to 'em as lo- ving as if they was so many army stores, with the money chist in the middle. If I had any vartues, they come slower, but I was pretty fast with them too; and fast motion is a vartue by itself, when you've got to do with man or woman, friend or inemy. For, what's the truth, Cappin Lord love you, there aint much time 'lowed to a man in this life. What he's got to do, he's got to do in a hurry, ef it's to be done at all. Ef he pokes and saun- ters, grim Death gobbles him up afore he gits to the eend of his journey. Well, this courtin' of a woman is jist the sawt of busi- ness that calls for fast usage. It's a sawt of race where the hind- ;! MLLHOUSE TREATETH TOUGHLY OF THE TENDER GENDER. 337 most wins nothinig but losses. You kaint stop to look behind you. You must go allead, jist as if the d-- had you on an eend, and you had no claince to git on and off, but by boltinglike a mad bull, even though you should lose your skairts in the run. And a woman of ixperance likes a man the better if he gives her no tine for long thinkingr Courtin' is like stormiing an inimy's bat- teries. Women expects naterally to be taken' by storm. They likes a good ixcuse foir surrinderin'. You must go it with a rush, sword in hand, looking mighty fierce, and ready to smite and tear every thing to splinters; and jist then she drops into your arms, and stops the massacree by an honest givill' in. 'You're too strong for me, I see,' says she, when she surrenders,--'so' she goes on, 'only spare my life and take every thing I've got;' and she gives herself in into the bargain ;-what we sodgers calls a surrinder at discretion. But you imust jist show her that you are determined to conquer ; that you kain't be marciful; that you must hev' every- thing or lose every thing; and that your name's 'master' from the begining." "ReaIlly, Corporal, you must have enjoyed a wonderful expe- rience among the sex." "It's hard to say w at I hev'nt seed inmy time, among all sorts of people; an' it's hard to say where my ixperance eends in deal- ing with people-man and woman. I'm showing you, Cappin, by the teachin' I'm a-giving you." "You are a sage, grave counseller, Millhouse, and I am bound to suppose-being myself inexperienced, particularly among wo- men-that you counsel wisely. But have you only a single rule for youroperations? Is it possible that you recognize no differ- ence among women, and that you use the same policy with all?" Lord love you, no! In course, you're to onderstand that man is the born master; but every master knows that you manage hands differently, each one accordin' to his natur. But woman is born with a knowing that some day she's got to find a master. 27 \ - page: 338-339[View Page 338-339] 338 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. That makes her ready for him when he comes. But it skears some, them in perticklai that haint got no ixperence. With a woman of ixperence, storming's the way ;--and a fort- you know, that's been once stornied knows all about it, and kin be easily stormed agin. But the' fort that's never been taken, is to be managed different. You don't let sich a fort see all your strength at once. You don't show all your sodgers in front. You manoeuvres, and marches and countermarches. You don't let the garrison see where you're guine to make the'attack. You approaches cautious, Cappin, and you works by sap. But I need'nt tell you of what's needful in works of war. I only mean to show by a sawt of picter which you onderstand, how you're to work with women. The young gal you captures by insinivations, but the wido v Ev'leigh's no young gal. She's had ixperence of things; and you're to con- quer her jest by storming and 'scalade. Put on your biggest thunder now, Cappin, and go to the attack with a shout and a rush, and dang my peepers ef she dont surrender at the first sum- mons." "Certainly, you hold forth a very encouraging prospect. But, Corporal, marriage is a very serious business. To a man who has been free all his life, has had no body to restrain his conduct, out- goings and incomings, there is something positively frightful in the kind of bondage which it makes. It sometimes happens that instead of the woman getting a master, the man gets a mis- tress. There's a great part of this in most marriages. To recon- c'le one to the danger, I suppose, the passion of love was in- vented " "Love! Oh! Lord, dont talk of sich child's play as that, I beg you! Marriage is business; 'taint love. It's airnest work; 'taint sport! No body, I reckon, marries for the sport of the thing, ef he's once cut his eye-teeth. Youl boy and gal marriages is a sort of baby house business. When we talks to grown men and women about tLe thing, we means an argyment, and a reason, and 1i MLLHOUSE TREAT TH TOUGHLY OF THE TENDER GENDER. 339 a sense, and a needcessity. You aint surely guine to tell me of likes and dislikes in the business. No body ixpects you at your time o' life, to have any sich child feeling of love, sich as work4 upon nflnt young fellows, that's just begun to l'arn the run of the woods." "But I confess, Corporal, if I am to marry, I should like to consult my tastes in the matter. I confess that 1 believe myself not a bit too old to have an affection." "'Fections mustn't stand in the way of business. How's the case? You're bad off in plantation sarcumstances. You want every thing, and kaint, byyour own self, keep what you've got. Well, jist beside you t iere stands a rich widow. She's well off in plantation sarcumstances. She kin save every thing for- you. ILn't the case cl'ar enough to a person with only hafe an onder- standing." "Still, I am for having a certain feeling satisfied-call it taste, or affection, love or what you will, Corporal, if I'm to marry and lose my liberty, I mus; know that my jailor is a lovely one." "Oh! Lord, Cappin, don't be foolish and ridickilous. I've no patience with such etarnal throat-cutting sentiments. Don't you resk the best chance in the country on sich foolish idees. What right hev' you, at your time of day, and in your sarceumstances, to tcalk about sich boy and'gal sentiments. Here you're at forty-five, with your head gitting as grey as ef 'twas rolled over in a meal bag;--with your body all of a heap in the middle, and the pins mighity slender for sich a weight to go upon; and your sarcum- stances all in a kink, a'ld knotted upon with the fingers of that etarnal warmint, the S eriff;-and yet you're a-talking of love, and sentiments, and-defections, jist as ef you knowd no more of human natur than a ad of seventeen, who's jist beginning to spread sail for a breeze. I kaint let you talk sich foolish idees, Cappin! 'Twont do, - tell you. I wont hev' it! You shan't throw away the good fortin', jist as it's a-tumbling, ripe into your page: 340-341[View Page 340-341] 340 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. mouth, ef I kin help it. 'Twould be a sort of right that your friends would have to give you a good choking first." "4Ah!" said Porgy, drily,-" such friendship as you describe is somewhat rare, Corporal." "As I'm a living man, Cappin, I'd be the man to do the thing ef 'twas for' yourl good and to save you; and I'd do it jist as fiee and bold as\ your owa self when you surgined my arm to the saving of m4 life-I would!" "Thank you, Corporal, thank you! I acknowledge the pecu- liar frankness of your friendship, but trust never to make it neces- sary for my friends to choke me, in order to make me take my medicine." "Fruit, not physick, Cappin." "Well, fi'uit!-But suppose there are other fruits that I hap- pen to like better than that, which you offer me. Suppose, to speak more to the point, there should happen to be another wo- man whom I happen to like better than Mrs. Eveleighl?" "Ia! is it that? Well, the only thing to ax is the other wo- man in the same sarcumstances as Mrs. Ev'leigh,-ready and able to help you out of the halter of the Sheriff?" "Don't name the animal quite so often, Coporal, if you please." "'Well, I wont; but I ax agin-is the other woman as well off as the widdow Ev'leigh? Has she as many goulden guineas, as many niggers?" "Not a stiver that I know of-not the hair of a negro." "Can't be, Cappin, you're thinking of the widow Griffin?" ex- claimed the Corporal, rising to his feet and confionting Porgy with a look of blank astonishment- "Griffin is a prettier woman than Mrs. Eveleigh." "Diccance! Cappin! what hev' you got to do with purty wo- men. What's a purty woman to a man in your sarcumstances?" "Why, Corporal, do you suppose, because a man wants money, he must also want good taste." MLLHOUSE TREATETH TOUGHLY OF THE TENDER GENDER. 341 "Taste!-that's another of them foolish idees! I thought I had given you a right notion of all sich thilgs. A man what's poor and in danger of -he Sheriff has no right to hev' a taste." But suppose he can't help it, Corporal- sulpose he has the taste whether he wills or no?" '"Then the Lord have marcy on his s7rcumstances. But, Cap- pin, you kaint afford to hev' a taste for the widow Griffin. She's a mighty comely woman, I confess; but comely in a woman is as comely brings. It's no; what a woman looks, but what she owns, that makes the comely; and you kaint afford to encourage hler ixplctations, ef she's got any. Your business is with widow Ev'- leigh, and you kaint gi; over the needcessity afore you, try it as you may. It's a law of natur, in your sarcumstances, that' you marries her, and nobody else!" Porgy was silent, looking thoulltfully into the fire, his pipe hanging over his knee, -ogotten in his grasp. Millhouse rose, at the close of the last speech, in which he had uttered his decree as emlphatically as if it had been that of the Medes and Persians, and motioned with his one arm to the Jamaica. "Aint you thirsty, Cilppin?" "No, Corporal, but I am sure that you are very dry. Help yourself, and don't wait onme." "It's a bad sign when a travelling horse won't drink, Cappin." L "Tue, Corporal, buttl though one man may carry a horse to i ater, ten can't make hWm drink, when he's not willing." "Why, Lord love you Cappin, there ought'nt to be any great onwillingness for you to marry the widow Ev'leigh. She's got a miglty sweet face." "True." "And a mighty plunmp figure." Trlue." "And the whitest skin, cl'ar red and white 'and sich a soft blue eye, and sich sweet lips, so red and ripe like ;" and the Cor- 27* page: 342-343[View Page 342-343] U34 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. poral swallowed half t e contents of the cup, and smacked his lips as heartily as if in the actual encounter with those of the widow. "And she's young fir her age, and with sich a nice, full figger; not a bit too stout, not over fat, but jist right. Why, Cappin, ef taste, as you call it, was to decide, and the taste was a downright honest, good sodger taste, why it would choose the widow Ev'leigh a thousand times before the widow Griffin." I- will drink, Corporal," said Porgy, rising and approaching the barrel, on the head of which the water jug, the Jamaica and the cup, found a temporary asylum. He filled, and when about to drink, he said: "You are a philosopher, Corporal, such as the world every where respects. But though your philosophy succeeds pretty generally, in the world, you never. would." En' why not, Cappin i i' Because the, chief secret of the success of such a philosophy as yours is that it never vaunteth itself. It's professors never pub- lish their virtues as you do. They are content to practice in secret what you mistakenly praise. They do what you preach, and preach against what they themselves do. Pride thus discourseth of humility with moist lips; selfishness thus becomes eloquent in its exhortations to self-sacrifice; and the good preacher will possess himself of thefattest ewe lamb of the flock while insisting on the beauties of a perpetual lent. But what say you to bed? It will be some hours, I fancy, before the Lieutenant and the boys get back fronm their coon hunt, and we may enjoy a good sleep meanwhile. We must also rise soon in the morning, that we may see what we are to wear to-morrow. There must be some patch- ing of my garments, before I shall be able perfectly to appear at the widow's table; and you too, in all probability, will need some adhesive plasters, front and rear." "Im glad you're a-thinking of that, Cappin. You must put on THE GHOST AT GLEN-EBERLEY EMBRACES THE CORPORAL. 343 your best front, and put' your best foot for'ad, for, jist hev' what tastes and idees you th'nk proper, you kaint git off from marrying that widow." CHAPTRR XLIV, THE GHOS2 AT GLEN-EBERLEY EMBRACES THE CORPORAL vi et arnmis. When Porgy had retired, Millhouse mixed for himself another cup of Jamaica with water, laid it down before the fre, drew a 4 blanket up to the hearth, squatted upon, it, pulled off his shoes, and exposed hig naked feet to the blaze. He replenished his pipe, drew a keg near his back, leaned against it with the ai- of a man who was about to enjoy life philosophically, and, with a few vigo- rous puffs, encircled his lead with a becoming atmosphere of cloud and vapour. With the mormentary removal of the pipe from his jaws, he moistened his lips F-ith the Jamaica. He again dried them with a puff, and again moistened them with the provided beverage. The philosophic mood thus properly-stimulated, h- began, sotto voce, to sol'loquize upon affairs and thirgs around him, his reflections prompted by the conviction that he had been gratefully opening the eyes of his superior to truths and a wis- dom which the other was slow to arrive at. "Ie's down in the mouth! He aint in good sperrits. t's a needcessity to make him see how the matter stands, and what he's got to do in his perdicaments. Well, to say truth, for a wise man, and a smart man, and a man what's seen sarvice, the Cappin is jist about as foolish as a young person of sixteen. And it's mighty I page: 344-345[View Page 344-345] THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. THEi u U strange at his age, he should be so bashful. Here, it's cl'ar to every man what's got an eye to any thing, that this here rich widow is ready with the bridal garmints. ' She's to be had for the axing. I watched her mighty close when they was a-talking to- gether, and ef ever a woman's eye said, 'look at me, I'm at your sarvice, stranger,' her eye said that same thing to the Cappin. Yet, tor all that, his cussed bashfulness won't see and believe it. But he shan't want for the incouragings to make him come up to the rack and taste the fodder. It's good fodder, well cured fod- der, and a plentiful armful of it too; and there's good corn where the fodder comes from, and he shall crack that corn, ef he's got a tooth in his head, and ef he haint, I'll hev' it ground for him. But eat it he shill! Don't I see the woman likes him to kill. And he aint an unlikely pusson in any woman's sight: Ef 'twarnt for his almighty gairth, he'd be a figure to go through an armny of, women, and take his pick as he went. I'll take a hand at git- ting her to-morrow, and I'll see that Tom takes in his belt a few holes closer. He must be made to look his best. Ef he had soie new clothes now! is old buffs are mighty full of stains. 'Twont do to wash buff breeches in swamp water no how, and to dust 'em with swamp mud hurts their complexion more than the water. But with good brushing we kin make 'em pass. A-most every thing in the way of clothes will pass where a woman's eye's already quite full of the pusson himself." Putting thei pipe into his mouth, he drew it fiercely, and sent forth several enormous jets of smoke, which kept up the due phi- losophic consistency in the atmosphere, then taking another sup of the Jamaica in order to maintain his own mental consistency, he proceeded, still in under tones, to soliloquize in respect to his superior. "Talk of Mrs. Griffin! What' kin Mrs. Griffin do for him? What kin he do for Mrs. Griffin? Why it's jistthe same as ef we tied both of 'em in a poke together, and gin em to the Sheriff r GLEN-EBERLEY EMBRACES THE CORPORAL. 345 y! And who'd ,buy The price they'd bring hle cost of selling. The woman's good looking good looking I'd say, and jist the sort of wo- ? there was any sense in my marrying at all. ranting a wife would a-most altogetier depend icome I could git out of it. She's got-a small nough, and a good comfortable house upon it, a cowV, and a few pigs and chickens; and ef but her one,-whv it might be no bad sense able and take her; but there's her marriageable )e married too, to the Lieutenant, and leetle for tae three to feed on. 'Twont do . a sensible an, r-eans the bettering of his sarcumstances, ttering in sich a business. When one marries, ices t Lat he's got to consider, and rot the wo- I to 'em. It's neither for me; nor the Cappin to v Griffin, though ef it's to be done by either on le to do it. It's the t'other whmar's sarcum- i rot to consider, and he'll hev' to come to the e wan ;s to or no." ng at the pipe was followed by anoher sip of ;he utilitarian philosopher proceeded, still sotto the sarcumstances." )ends on what he does and says to-morrow. I'll ash h'lm for'ad. I'll malie the chance for him too, ef so he I sees him playing sLilly-shally. t for the Cappin that she axed me to go too. for herself, that I know'd something that aint to , and it's fortinit for the Cappin that I'm his line to see him lose a good game witt out telling right time to fling down trumps! i must put to help me, and Tom kin throw in a word, sea- then the argyment. And may I bo etarnally ., 9 ' t 5 page: 346-347[View Page 346-347] 846 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. squashed under a mountain swamp, fenced in with alligators, ef we don't git possession of that widow and all she's got." Another succession of fierce puffs at the pipe, and then a re- newed moistening of the lips with the Jamaica. The soliloquy was then resumed: "She's got more than a hundred niggers, I reckon. That's Tom's thinking. She aint got no debts to pay, and aint afeared of no Sheriff. She must divide them niggers betwixt the two places, hafe hbre and hafe there; and then we'll see which malies the best crops, Fordham or me! Fordham's a good enough chap I'm a-thinkin; but he aint had the benefit of seeing the world in the army. I made good rice, I reckon, 'fore ever Fordham seed backwater. When a man lives always in one place he don't know much and kaint l'arn nothing. 1'll show him the good of army life for bringirg sense into a family. As for the drill among the nigges, I reckon I'l make him open his eyes wider than ever any tarrap;n lying on the flat of his back, and the watar biling fast for him to thicken. Ef I don't beat him at a crap, then my daddy had no right to his own son!" The Corporal-continued to muse and speculate, for two goodly hours after his worldly fashion. Porgy's chamber was silent. lie probably slept. So thought Millhouse. Frampton was still ab- sent on his coon and, possom hunt; on which enterprise he had been accompanied by Tom, Pomp, and several other negroes, all eager to procure a supply of fresh meat, and to renew sports which always brougft them pleasure. It might be hours still before they would return, since it requires, sometimes, a large circuit of woodland andc swamp before the dog scents his prey. Millhouse, in the meantime, had ceased to soliloquize. He had been kept wakeful a long time, in consequence of the singular variety and activity of his scheming fancies; but he was beginning to suc- cumb to drowsiness. He had emptied his pipe of its ashes, swallowed the last drop o tthe Jamaica, and pushing away the -O '* \L ' * * ' ' i THE GHOST AT GLEN-EBERLEY EMBRACES THE CORPORAL. 847: keg from his back, prepared to roll himself up in his blankets, when he fancied he he rd a footfall in the back piazza. In half listless mood he listened. The step ceased, and he drowsed. Then he was awakened by what he thought a rustling against the door. H-e raised himself up, threw a brand on the fire, which was be- gining to sink, and saw it kindle and blaze up brightly. Remem- bering the robbery of t'ie previous night, he kept his eyes keenly fixed upon the door. ie was afraid to rise for his pistols, which lay in the opposite corner, lest he should fiighten off tLe intruder, and he was too anxious to get at him to suffer this, if possible. He resolved, accordingly, to wait till the last moment. All on a sudden, while he looked and listened, the door was pushed open, and a tall female figure stood beforeshim in the dusky operring. There was evidently female drapery-that he could distinguish- but all else was undiscernable. He remembered, for the first time, that the Captain had to d him. the night previous, that the house was haunted and the thought now seized him that this was the gnost. The Corporal was brave enough, as the world goes, but he could not prevent a strange uncomfortable shudder from pass- ing through him. Hie did not will to believe in ghosts, but what else could be the intruder? "Who's it!" he crieG out, after a pause, in accents somewhat less confident and formidable than those in which he had discoursed to Porgy of the proper philosophy. "Who's thatr!" he demanded; and the stranger advanced- into the room,-a tall, slender form in a sort of loose, dingy white garment, the draping o-' which seemed somewhat to confine its movements. It happened, vexatiously enough, that the fire upon the hearth, which had Hlazed up brightly enough but a moment before, seemed almost to expire; a circumstance so aptly associa- ted with the presence of the stranger as somewEat to coqfirm the fancy of the Corporal that she was certainly the household ghost. He remembered, in an instant, what he had heai'd in Lis young page: 348-349[View Page 348-349] THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. i1u days, of the l'ghts burning dimly and blue, in the presence of the spectre, and Le could conceive of no less influence which could so effectually. ard in an instant, deprive 'fat lightwood' of its proper inflammable virtues. He began to feel more and more disquieted, while the silence of the intruder add(d to his doubts. Again he cried out, this time raising his head, if not his voice,--and speak- ing with prodigious effort- "Who's it thar, I say?"' The answer dispelled his apprehensions immediately. "Da you, my chile?" The voice was that of a negro as well as a female. "Who's afraid of a nigger ghost!" exclaimed the Corporal aloud-and iising to a sitting posture. Who's you! I say! and what hev' you come for." "It's me, Ay chile! It's you own ole woman-Sappho! Enty you member de ole woman-you own nuss,-de same Sappho wha' bin mind you a tousand times. I)e Lord be praise for bring you back-dat de ole woman kin'hug her chile once more, 'fore he dead for erbber." With these words the speaker darted forwards, and, falling upon her knees upon the blankets of the Corporal, seized him in her firm embrace, and before he could recover from his surprise, and extricate himself, hugged him closely to her bosom, and bestowed upon his cheeks, a flood of kisses from a toothless mouth! "Git out! Oh!-thunder-and!-Hello! I say! What the splinters are you after! Whoo! D- !" Thus, half suffocated for a moment, the Corporal vented his horror and surprise. He struggled fiercely, with his one arm, to push her away; but she had him at great advantage. he was in a sitting posture, swathed half in blankets; and, kneeling be- side himi the ghost had grappled him about the neck, and in the ardour of her kisses had almost succeeded in pressing him over upon the floor. T G!"EN-EBERLEY EMBRACES THE CORPORAL. 349 !" :So 6bbed ever as she kissed. Git out, I say! Lord, old:*toman, who the and what's you after! Child be c-d! Me a infant! I hab you in my arms agin, afore I dead - I " Id f6ol! What's you thinkipg abor t!" ho should ebber lib for see dis day. I kin dead jord be praise!" yoi. was, and the old d-1 had you!"7 T bes' belubbed son!" and she blubbered aloud.. inteis, old woman, ef I dont be the death of you nock you into the leetle eend of a sarcumstancei O. )le Sappho, my chile! You no know you own , ood ole woman, old Sappho, my son! Wha' r for? I bin nuss you in dese arms a tousand you better dan all de worl'. Don't push me too much for leff you; I wunt le' you go!"I ! Lord! that I should live to be squeezed to , andsuffickated in the arms of a raw-head and this! You old scout of satan, you-I'll----!" weaing, and almost shouting in his rage, at n extricating himself from the blankets; then, oving intruder who had evidently mistaken her to gain his feet, and to stand erect, with his one fist being now doubled until it wore the ap- ful maul, such as the rail splitter employs in vedges. The strange woman, singularly named arted wanton who flung herself away for love Phaon, had by 'this time arisen also; and, re- ; . ., , * 5! 3 page: 350-351[View Page 350-351] 350 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. coiling from the person she had so closely grappled but a moment before, she stood some five paces off, curiously regarding him, now satisfied of her error, and quite as much confounded as he was wrothy. It was at this momlent, when the Corporal, fully- persuaded that, if a ghost, the person before him was sufficiently substantial to feel the force of arguments such as it was in his power to delivelr from his knuckles, was preparing to fall upon the intru- der, tooth and nail, that the Captain of Partisans, aroused by the voices and the struggle, made his appearance in his night clothes, but with a blanket over his shoulders, and interposed between the parties. "Who's this, Millhouse? What's the matter? Before the Corporal could answer, the woman pushed beside him with a cry. "Dis dah hm Dis dah my own chile i" and with sobs of joy she threw her arms about the neck of Porgy as she had dune about that of Milllhouse. "Why, hello! my good woman! Who do you take me for? You are quite too fiee inr your affections." Porgy endeavoured to extricate himself, but the effort was as difficult in' his cse as in that of Millhouse. Millhouse witnessed the effort, alnd chuckled outright. "It's your turn row, Cappin, and your right by nater!" "My chile! my chile! You no know you mudder nuss,--you own Sappho, Wvha' bin min you when you bin leetle baby, only big like my han'." "Sappho!" cried Porgy-" what Sappho, is it you, my poor old mauma!---my good old woman!" "Dah him i IDah me! tny ceilee! my chile!"p "And a pretty sizeable sarcumstance of a child he is!" cried the Corpo'al,- laughing at the spectacle. "There, Sapplao, my good, old woman, that will do now," said Porgy--'coie into my room and let us sit down whereJ can hear gyou, yQX * i ' THE GIOST AT GLEN-EBERLEY EMBRACES THE CORPORAL. 351 "Da's it, my son! i Oh! how I wants for tell you ebbry ting what's pass and gone " and clinging to his arm the old woman accompanied\ the Captain to his chamber., "'ll bring you some lightwood, Cappin," quoth the Corporal, you'll be wanting to see, I reckon, the sawt of pusson you're a-talking to." The lightwood was brought, the fire soon put into a blaze, and seating himself on one corner of his blankets the Captain, with some difficulty, persuaded the old woman to deposit herself on another. The Corpo 'al, with his blanket wrapped about his shoulders, took his stand beside the mantlepiece, his stump armn resting upon it, while he looked curiously upon the group, and listened with interest to what was said. The spectacle was, indeed, a sufficiently curious one. Porgy, as we already krow, is some- what of a spectacle himself, particularly with a toilet incomplete. But his comnpanion, now, is one in admirable contrast with him- self. She was equally tall and thin-a mere s eleton, in fact-her garments loose and light, rather hanging about thatr fastened to her person. She was about seventy-five years old, or more. The successive wrinkles of 'her face, drooping together a, last, hung about her cheeks and chin, like a once well filled, but long emptied purse. Her teeth were entirely gone; the lips, unasually thin, finding no resistance upon pressure, had sunk in, making a deep valley across the face, the nose on one h nd and the chin on the other, both prominent and sharp, rising up like peaks of Tene- riFe. The scant hairs which thinly covered her head, and escaped beneath the old hand'ierchief which wrapt it, were gray as the moss upon the old oa., and not much unlike it in texture and ierl. But her eyes were as bright, shining out in the general blackness, as two fiery little stars, preparing for battle. They we're snall and deeply set, but as intense in their gaze as if the pro- plietor were fifteen on y. Toothless wholly, -he old Woman was not tongueless. The ;ongue, indeed, seemed to'find it necessary page: 352-353[View Page 352-353] 52 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. to do double dity in consequence of th/e deficiency, of the teeth; and eager, yet mumbling the words the while, the ancient woman ran on, all the while; with little or no pause, ejaculating her thanks to heaven which had vouchsafed that she should see "her chile agin!" "But you no know me, my clile. You bin fo'git old Sappho! Enty I know. You kaint tell ne. Hah! das de way wid de world. You back tu'n, you gone, you in de ground, de berry chile you bin carry in you' arms, he fo'git all 'bout you!" "But I didn't forget you, mauma! As soon as I saw you fairly, I knew you; and I only wonder I didn't know you by your voice." - "It's de teet, my chile! De teet' gone! De old snag drop out,-de berry las' ob 'em drop out de beginning ob dis winter. Nary one (never a one) left now for me chaw 'pon. Ah! de ole woman is a-gwine fas', my chile. It's de preticklar blessing ob de Lord dat I leff for see you git back to you own home and people. De Lord be praise for all he massies!" "Well, mauma, I'm truly happy to see you once more alive. It reminds me so much of every thinfg-of my mother--of the old wagon-ofo, the little bay ponies, and the rides we had together down to uncle Dick's. Why, how could you think, Sappho, that I should ever forget you?" "It's de way ob de worl', my chile! an' I was afear'd dat when you git out in de worl' fair, an' see de people, an' git mix up wid de sodgers, you would shame for 'tink 'bout poor ole woman, da's a! nigger, too." "' Never, Sappho! I have thought' of you a thousand times, and I'm more glad to see you now, still living, and still able to see and to speak, than I should be at meeting with the best white friend I have. But, Sappho, you must tell me about everyt thing. I want to know how you escaped in the general sack and confu- sion. When I sent Tom out here once to see how things went on, THE GHOST AT GLEN-EBERLEY EMBRACES THE CORPORAL. 353 could find nothing of you, and hear nothing. Ee only gath- Ad that the British and Tories had been here, had gutted the intation and carries off all the people. You were believed to dead, Sappho, and though not much given to weeping, I shed ne tears for you, mauma. You may believe me, old woman, I remembered you not only for yourself, but fo: others who re very precious to me." ; Enty I blieb's you., my chile. It does de ole woman heart )d to blieb you. I knows you got a gqod heart, yourself, my ]e, and dough, I krows, you lub much better to laugh dan to , I knows too you kin cry when dare's 'casion for it. But, 'ry, (hear ye) my chle. I gwine tell you all about wha' hap- v sence you bin gone." And the old womar smoothed her garments in fiont, laid her Ids crosswise in her lap, then beginning a legular swinging, or -saw motion of the body, to and firo, proceeded with a long and newhat tedious, but clear and iiitelligible account of plantation lirs up to the moment when the negroes were dispersed or car- 1 off by the enemy. We will hot afflict the reader with this ration, but preserve only such portions of it as particularly ar- ted the attention of' Corporal Millhouse. As he stands some- at in the relation of a third party, it is possible that what )ressed h's regards, will not be unworthy of the attention of er persons, the more particularly, indeed, as the ir atter was of ie importance to the pecuniary affairs of Captain 2orgy. 'Soon as I yerry, ny chile, dat de red coats bin 'pon Gillon 3e, an' bi i carry off de people, dat berry time I scare. Den I to meself-wha' for hender 'em come yer, an'carry off we pie too? Je's I bin tink dat ting, I begin gedder (gather) up de swarrp. Pot, kettle, pan; I tie 'em up in de blanket. I to Caesar,-boy, clap 'em on you back; den I say to Cha'lot, biggest da'ter;-he marry Gromanty Ben, my chile, you ther-" -- 28* page: 354-355[View Page 354-355] 854 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. "Yes! yes!" ' "Well, I say to him, pick up you tings. Do like you see 'e do. I tell de same ting to Betty, my second da'ter. le'bin mairy Eli, you 'member.": '"'Yes! yes" i' "He hab he four chillen (children) tree gal chile an' one boy; Cha'lot only hab two chillen; he loss two wid 'fection ob de bow- els ;--well, I say to Betty, pick up you chillen and tings, chile, we hab for hide, I see. Anl I make him go right off to le husbtn' wha' bin a-work down in de big pine fiel', and tell 'em for drop he hoe, and pull foot dis way. My t'ird da'ter, Cinda, (Lucinda) you 'member, I 'tir him up too and make 'em gedder up he chillen. lie hab tree, but he husband dead dis two year. Den we tell Edisto Jenny, and scal' arm Sally, and leetle Jupe,-de boy wha' hab de bow leg, you 'member,-and he two sister-all ob 'em hab bow leg,-we tell 'em wha's de trouble,coming,-an' we world ha' bin tell all our people, but, you see, day' was scatter, some in de cowpen fiel', some in de long tater (potato) fiel', wha' jine 'pon Miss Ebleigh ;-some one way, some tudder, (t'other) an' dere's (there's) no time for loss, an' we kaint see dem. So we people start by our own se'f, (selves) me, an' my tree da'ters, Cha'lot, aid Betty, and Cinda, wid my gran' chillen, Liz and Mart'a, Cha'lot' chile; an'Bob, an' Rachel, an' Clough, Betty chillen; an' Scp, an' Andra, an' Harry, Cinda chillen; dem's all my ginerations wha' I bin carry in de swamp-; but Cromanty Ben, Cha'lot' hus- ban', an' Eli, Betty husban,-da gone wid us topo, and four udder women, Edisto Jenny, an' seal' arm Sally, an' Sikey and Pussy, sisteren of Jupe,-and Jupe he se'f-all ob dem wkid de bow legs- all ob dem gone wid us,-an' dem's all de ginerations ob de chil- len ob Adam, my chile, dat git off wid us in de swamp, when we yerry de red coats is a-coming. An' we carry ebbry ting we kin lay hands 'pon, an' carry 'em safe an' easy--de pot an' de pan, an' de blanket, atn' de clo'es, an' de axe, an' de hatchet, an' de knife,- * THE GHOST AT GLEN-EBERLEY EMBRACES THE CO3PORAL. 355 wha' ebber tings we kIn pick up in de hulry, we carry dem off wid us clean. An', time for us do so, my chile, for when we peep out de swamp, d!e whole riigger quarter da bu'n,i an' wha' ebber dem udder people bin leff -ere, he Iu'n to cindersl an' ashes 'fore you kin say t'ree prayer to de Lord for all he massies." The Corporal had shown himself very restless during all this narration. He shifted his position from side to side of the man- tiepiece; crossed over; now stood behind the Captain; now beside the old worr an, and, a; moments, had his eyes and hand lifted up as if in med tation; orl as the fingers of his one hand were crooked and elevated successively, it might be in computation. When the old lady had reached what seemed a natural pause in her relation, the Corporal, as if unable to contain himself, cried out, over Por- gy's shoulde 's- "Wh y, old lady. you don't mean to say that you've got all these niggers in tLe swamp now ." "De Lord be praise, sah, day's all libbing, 'cept little Jupe. de bow-leg, whL' dead by break he neck; he fall fromr tree he bin climb one night for catch possum, and nebber kick arter he touch de 'airth." "All living but leetle Jupe "' quoth the Corporal, lifting his surviving hand, and separately displaying the fingers sundry times before his own eyes, muttering all the while the tale to himself, with eager ralidity. "Ef that's the case, old woman, 'cording to my coint, you've gotin the swfmp, not counting you, jist eighteen niggers. There's your da'ter Charlotte, and -her two children-that's three-her husbgnd makes four; Betty and her husband, and four children, that's six, in 11 ten; then Cinda, her three children aLd her hus- band-" Cinda husban' deac, sah!" Ah! yes: that's true; well, Cinda and her three children, ma- king four, pu; to the other ten, is fourteen, by all counts; then page: 356-357[View Page 356-357] 356 TUE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. there's two other women, that's sixteen, and two bow-legged gals, is eighteen! Eighteen niggers and most of 'em women! A id you mean to say, old lady, that all these people are jist now in the swamp a-hiding?" "As de Lord is massiful to me, sah, day's all dere, 'cept June, as 1 bin tell, wha' break he neck, by fall from de tree when he hunt Spossum!" "imini! that's great intelligence, Cappin. And how many of these is grown niggers, old lady--how many of 'em good to take up the hoe now, and--" "No matter, Corporal," said Captain Porgy; who had been sitting silent, rather sad, indeed, listening to his ancient nurse,- "there are other more necessary questions- "Sappho, have these people any clothing? Your own garments, mauma, are thin enough :" "Ah my chile, we bin see berry hard times; de cloding (cloth ing) is moss an' rag; an' we try for keep warm by de fire; an' we aint feed so well, my son; an' when Cromanty Ben come into de swamp last night an' say to me, "Mammy, dare's a smoke coming out ob maussa house windows; I w nder who day in maussa house .' 'I say de Lord be praise ef ry chile is come home tc git his people clot' and blanket.' Den day all 'gree dat I must come out and see; dey all 'fear'd for come, for fear de tories an' de red coats grab 'em. Day knows dat day nebber gwine carry off poor ort'less old woman like Sappho. So I come, maussa, an' dis de trute ob all my gineration's in de swamp." Jiminy! Captain! Bat that m kes the force quite expectale! We'll do. But we'll be a-wanting more hoes and axes; more supplies ; you m must make a bigger list, Cappin; we must make a main fine crop this year, in spite of sarcumstances," And the Corporal strode the room to and fro; his one hand waving at intervals; his fingers still crooking and extending in occasional computations; and his form rising up into unusual -]' THE GHOST AT GLEN-EBERLEY EMBRACES THE CORPORAL. 357 erectness, while, though walking in his stockings on y, he made the floor quiver with the solemnity of his tread. The old woman had more tosay, and Porgy more to ask, but, the 'nterruptions of the Corporal were :oo fiequent to suffer other rarties much liberty, and these interruptions were the more fiequent and more impatient as the Corporal fancied that Porgy dealt in much very irrelevant ir atter. The latter, accordingly, put a very sudden close to all fuilther talk that night, by saying: "Well, old lady, it's time now that we should sleep. We are. very weary, and you, at your time of life, must not sit up too late. Let me give you something to make you strong. Corporal, we must take a sup of Jamaica, with my old nurse." "Won't I, Cappin! She's a sensible old woman, and I like her. The way she dodged them tories and red coats, and saved them niggers for us, is desarving of a drink. And I took you fo a ghost, old Ldy, would you believe it. and ef you hadn't a-hugged and kissed so close, I'd mouthe ha' .'blieed it to the very last." ' Scuse me, sah; but I t'ought it was my own chile, all de time." "Oh! yo-i're 'scuseable enough, under the sarcumstances. But let's have the drink all round.". The Jamaica wa.- broached, and the cup which Porgy poured out he handed to the od wonam. "Drink tLat, Sappho, it'll help to strengthen your old limbs." "T'ank ye, my chile. De Lord is good. God bress you for ebber, a t'ousand times, my son! may you nebber see trouble in de house ag'"n!" And she drank. "Ha! it makes me feel warm to de heart. It's a good physic for ole people, my chile." "And for young ones too, old lady," quoth Millhouse, emptying the cup at a swallow. Plorgy dranki then giving Sappho a blanket, he conducted her into the shed room which had been assigned to Tom. 5 , page: 358-359[View Page 358-359] 35 8 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF, "t ere, mauma, you will sleep to-night. To-morrow we'll see what's to be done for the people in the swamp. Lie down noIy, old lady, and take your sleep. Good night." ! When the Captain returned to the hall, the Corporal seized hi arm- ' "By the powers, Cappin, luck's with us. We'll do. We have a force now that begins to tell,--twenty-five niggers, and all, I reckon, able to hoe a task." "Let us sleep not, Corporal!" said Porgy. . "Sleep! Aay I be squashed unconvartibly forever, ef I shall be able to shut an eye to-night. 'I'll have to think over every thing what's to be done with these other nliggers." "As you please, Corporal; but you will suffer, me to sleep if you please." , And-Porgy disappeared. AMillhouse threw himself down by the fire- "' Sich a man! ie's got no more ambition than a dirt eater with agy (ag ue) on him24 He kaint even shake, he's so wanting in the proper sperrit!" Let us drop the curtain for the present. CHAPTER XLV. THE CORPORAL IN A MAZE. HE RETORTS UPON THE GHOST. SOMETIME after midnight, Lance Frampton and his sooty com- panions returned from their nocturnal hunt. They had been tole- rably successful, having bagged three possums and a coon. The do-r had proved his merits, having had a severe fighlt with the coon, who was a well grownamonster, and gave in only after a long con- THE CORPORAL IN A MAZE. 359 test; .yielding without a ey,-to the great disapotintment of Pompey, wlh was particularly anxious -to extort this sort of ac- knowledgment firom the ictim. Frampton soon folded h mself up for sleep 'n his blanket ,not disturbing Millhou'se. who slept soundly in st:ite of his own convictions to the contraiy. He mut- tered and turned in his see[, evidently dreaming earnsstir . nm tnn being able to distinguish a few broken sentences, in whichl the Corloral seemed to be still busy in a difficult but interesting arith- ; Metic- , Eighlteen and seven--twentyrfie vseven women, -no, nine- and--two-a id the boys-and-boo!-boo -boo!-- The speech was swallowed in the snore. Our fiieni Tom, the cook, accompanied by Pomp, was somewhat surprised to find his chamber partly occulied, and by a woman; but Sappho awakened' at hiis entry- nd ed, the old woman had scarcely slept-age never sleeps very soundly-and she made herself known to hm in few lwords, and soon put hirr in possession of all the history as it is already knowr to us. This was done in low tones so as not to disturb the household. Pomp was soon as oblivious of the outer world as a-stone, and Tom finally entreated the ancienlt lady to orbear all furtler revelations for the n'ght. "Kaise, you sees, aunt Sappho, dis 'ere boy, you humble sar- )ant, he's a-most breck down wid he tire. Ef you bin know all d'a' he bin do to-day, and dis ere coon hunt to-night, you gwine ay vouse'f, de chile bet:er hab he sleeps. I glad for see you, unt Saplpho, berry muc- glad for see you; 'kaise yotu ole fellow Irbant wicld me, and I bin yer you bin dead. But you eint dead, see, and I ho )es berry much you aint gwine for dead, long time, id so, aunt Sappho, as Z bin said--a-ye-ho-he-yo hle-re, ya-ya- ! (yawning with open jaws, wide as those of the grea- cave of entucky) I m ist hab soine sleeps now! and de Lord bless you, nt Sa)ppho,-an' 'll tank you to shet up now!" "Tek' you sleeps, my son; I sees you wants 'er, I terra page: 360-361[View Page 360-361] V V/Uw 'A1'Jti D W U L/UKV A ..&UV 'A1':B UlAiJJ 'A.1J'C*e (tell-a) you ebbry 'ting nudder time. You kin' sleep now. I done!'", Da's a good- aunty! nudder time will do!" And Tom had followed the example of Pompey, and, save for an occasional growl from Frampton's dog, and a more regular succession of noises, ,scarcely so pleasant, from sundry nasal eminences growing upright in several parts of the household, all would have been entirely quiet. There was no farther disturbance Luring the night. Bright and early, Corporal Millhouse wa afoot. His dreaming 'and waking thoughts had greatly contributed to his power and importance. He scarcely gave himself time to get his clothes on, beforie he presented himself at the entrance of the little shed-room to which Sappho had been consigned. "Hello-! old lady-'Sapphy, in there-come out, and let's have a good look at you by daylight." There was no answer. He repeated the summons. It was still unnoticed. Hle grew impatient, and, with a single kick at the door, sent it open, and penetrated the chamber. It was dark. e threw open the window ;-the room was empty. There was no sleeper, male o, female, in the apartment, and--which surprised our Corporal still more-no signs of bed or blanket. "Whly, what the d- I! Who'd ha' thought an old skiliton of a woman like that would ha' bin out and off so airly! I reckon she's down stairs among the niggers." Down he goes to see. The negroes were just turning out, only half wakened. I Itello! there! where's-the old woman, old Sapphy 2" "Sapphy! Ole woman! Dar's no ole woman yer, mass Cop- . pral." "No old woman! Why where kin she be? Ah! she's gone to see her chile, the Cappin! Mighty. fine child, I'm a-thinking. A leetle too large for his petticoats, by reason that he grows so fast. ' THE CORPORAL IN A MAZE. 361 And with a glorious chuckle at his own wit, the Corporal as- cended to tl:e Captain's chamber and broke in without ceremony. Porgy was flready up and at the window shaving. aHe had been up for some time, had heard the Corporal's inquiries below, and knowing thoroughly the sort of person with whom he-dwelt, could very well unlerstand the motive of his anxiety, Porgy had seen old Sappho already that morning, and spoken with her at the window. T:ie old woman, with her blanket aroend her by way of a cloak, v as already moving off to join, and make her report to her "gine ations" in the swamp. She had but few words with her foster chid,-'for such Porgy had been--and they were such as the reader can readily conceive from what has been shown already. As the Corporal thundered up the steps! and entered the piazza, our Ca tain of Pa tisans readily conjectmred that the next visit of Millhlouse would be to himself. He prepared to disquiet him. "Hello.! Cappin; would you think it, that old- skillyton of a woman's off a'ready ." "Wbat weoman do you mean, Corporal?" "What woman! - Why old Sapphy, to be sure, that I tuk for i ghost--that comein upon me last night, and gin me such a iuggin', and a-kissin', and all on vour account." "I really don't know what you're talking about, Cor-oral." "Don't know what I'm a-tallking about!" quoth Millhouse, in mazement;---"Don't know, Cappin! Why, Lord 10Ie you, the d woman, your nuss, that calls you her child, that hugged and issed both of us till we was a-most choked and smothered-the ie that's got the niggers in the swamp, seven giner; tions and ore, making in all eighteen good hoe hands. Lord save us, )w kin you forgit sich a matter!" "Forget! How should I remember a matter which I never ard of before. You're certainly dreaming, Corporal.': "Dreaming, Cappin! Ef I thought so, I'd be mighty apt to 29 page: 362-363[View Page 362-363] 362 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. bust my brains out agin the fire-place; but you're a-joking only. Sartainly, you kaint forgi the skin-dried old skillyton of a Woman that slept inhere last night; and we kim into your room, both us; and you was a-setting thar, jist on the edge of the bVaiket, andshe was setting thar' jist on t'other edge; and I stood up thar jist agin -the fire-place and how she told us of her gitting away from the red coats and the tories; she and her three da'ters- I 'member all their names parfectly;--there was Charlotte, and Betty, and Cinda-I kaint forget-and Charlotte had two chil- dren, and Betty four, and Cinda three, and two on 'em had hus. bands living, though I kaint be sartain which, all on em in the swamp, and there were two bow-legged gals, an6 there bas a bow- legged boy, and his name was Jupe,---and, you kaint forgit that!- Jupe fell from a tree, climbing a'ter coon, and jist broke his neck outright; and:there was other niggers, making eighteen in all, not counting old skillyton, Sapphy herself;-I counted 'em all up last night, and ranged 'em off for working, soon as they come in, so far as I could, not having seed any on 'em. You must 'member, all that matter, Cappin." "Not a syllable! It's all news to me, Corporal!"And Porgy gazed on him with a well affected amazement of stare that pro- voked the most natural consternation in the world in the features of the other. T "The d-1 you say! But, Lord, Cappin, you. kaint be forgit- ting your own ole nuss, Sapphy." "L never to my knowledge, Corporal, had a nurse with such a name, which seems to be that of a Heathen Goddess." "Heathen h-11! Cappin; she set thar, I tell you." "Impossible, Corporal." And she warnt in your room last night?" "Not that I know-of." Lord help me, ef I shan't go crazy! And I warnt in your room last night?" THE CORPORAL IN A MAZE. 363 "It may be that you were. You know best. If you were, it was while I slept." "Slept! By the powers, Cappin, you was wide awake as a black fish; and when the talk was over, we all kim out, and swallowed a little Jamarky by way of medicine. And we gin the old nigger a cup for the good news she brought, and then you gin her a blanket, and you showed her yourself whar to sleep in Tom's room, and thar we left her." "This is a strange delusion of your's, Corporal. B't why not go to the room and find her there, if you say you saw her go there to sleep!" "Lord save me, but you put her thar yourself." "There yoi are mistaken! But, if such is your. not'on, go and seek her there." "I've been thar, and she's not thar!" cried the Corporal, in a state of approaching perspiration. "I thought so!" muttered the Captain of Partisar s, in sub- dued tones, but sufficiently loud to be heard, and he touched his head significantly- "Millhouse, your suppers are too heavy. I would counsel you against much meat at night. A single bit of that broiled ham- the slices thi--is quite enough for any decent white mnan. And in eating you- hoe cake, take my counsel to reject the softer parts; confine yourself entirely to the crisp portions, the crust. Besides, Coffee is a wonderful stimulant of the brain. Don't go over a pint hereafter at night; and, perhaps, it will be well to deny your- self the freedom of the Jamaica after a certain hour. Say, a sin- gle glass after smoking your last pipe, and then to sleep. Believe me, my good fellow, by observing these simple forbearances, you will escape the visitation of the nightmare. She has evidently given you a fearful hug last night." "'Twas the old skilliton nigge, I tell you--'twas- Sapphy, your nuss, and no- any nigltmar'. Lord, Cappin, ef you wouldn't page: 364-365[View Page 364-365] 364 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. drive me 'stracted, don't you go on so. Warnt that old nigger here, that nuss of yourn, as skinny as a dry peach skin-all skin and bone,-warnt she -setting thar for a good hour, a-telling us of her da'ters in the :swamp, and their children and their hus- bands, and of the boy Jupe, that broke his neck a'ter the coon, and them two bow-legged gals, his sisters. Now, jist be sensible, Cappin, and tell all about it, as I seed and heard it my own self." ( I can tell you nothing more, Corporal. You've certainly had a very: lively dream last night, which I should greatly like to see realized." "A dream! Lord! Lord! I shill go crazy and outright re- stracted! And you hadn't a nuss named Sapphy?" "Never!" "Oh Lord, what shill I be thinking! 'Don't eat so much at night again, Corporal." It ikaint be a dream!-" "Leave off, the Coffee in particular!" "I swow! it warnt no dream!" "One drink only of Jamaica, aftcr your last pipe.' "Ef 'twas a dream it was as much like the raal and living life as I ever seed it." " That's always the case with pleasant dreams, Corporal; but they always lead to disappointment. What a glorious crop you could make if your dream of those eighteen negroes were true 2" "Lord, yes! and I had jist set my heart on beating Fordham out of sight. But O! stairs, Cappin, it ought to be true and it must be true." Just then Tom was heard below, calling to Pomp. "Thar's Tom! He must ha' seed her ef she was thar. I'll ax him." "Do so," says Porgy,-" and satisfy yourself. It will do you some good and make you less certain of your dreams hereafter." Millhouse sallied out, and Polgy darting to the window, caught Q;? THE CORPORAL IN A MAZE. 365 the eye of Tom, ascending the stairs to the piazza, and motioned with his hands to him. At that moment Millhouse from the hall cried out' to him- "Look you, Tom, wLere's the old nigger woman waat slept in your room last night?" Porgy shook his head negatively to the cook. Tom was quick to conceive, and knew thoroughly the habits of the Captain of Partisans, as a practical joker. lIe immediately conjectured what was required of him, and his answer was as prompt as if dictated by the very rmother of the truth. "Wha' womans you talk'bout, mass Coppral; I airt see nary old nor youngo woman 'non dis place!" "The h-l11 you airt! The Lord be marciful to my poor senses. "Someting seem for trouble you, mass Coppral; may be you is berry much hungry for you, breakus." "D- n the breakfus! Oh! thar's Pomp! I recken he must ha' seed the old woman." Pomp was beginning to ascend the steps leading to the back piazza, at the head of which Tom stood. Tom replied'fo- Pomp, in tones lough enough for .he other to hear. "Wha', Pomp! How kin he see ole woman in my room, ef me, Tom, no bin see 'err? Heh! Pomp? Speak, boy,-you no bin see no ole woman in de room whay we sleeps las' right?" Tom's tone, and the fierce scowl which he put on while speak-, ing to the boy, effectually taught the latter what sort of answer was required 'rom him, and he responded without hesi;ation- "Nebber see ole woman in de room, uncle Tom." "Da's wha' I say, mass Coppral. You muss ha' bin dream 'bout dat old woman." "Dream! Lord! Lord and here am I a loser o' eighteen niggers, fus' rate fiel' hands, and nobody seems to care about it. Lord ha' mercy 'pon you, Cappin!" returning, as he spoke, to 29* page: 366-367[View Page 366-367] 366 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. Porgy's room-" but you don't seem as ef you had any feeling for your own losses. Now, I 'member-ef 'twas a dream I had of that skilliton nigger wench,-I thought it mighty strange you show'd so little consarn when I told you about putting the eighteen niggers to work, and what they'd hev' to do. I thought it mighty onnatural, of you last night; but I feel its mighty onnatural, now, as it looks to me this morning. Eighteen able bodied nig- ners gone, as I may say, in the snapping of a finger. I does feel so mean. Tom, old fellow, do let's have breakfas' mighty soon. We are gwine to see Mrs. Ev'leigh to-day, and must fix up for it. "ord ord! ef I could only ha' told her 'bout them eighteen niggers out of the swamp, added on to the poor seven we've got now. How could I ha' dreamed a thing so nateral, and seed the old woman so cl'ar in the firelight, and felt her a-hugging me, and a-kissing me, with her nose and chin poking into my face all the time. 'Twarn'tinuo dream, I swow, Cappin-'twarn'tno dream. 'Twas too nateral for a dream! I kaint help but 'blieve it, all, try the best I kin!" At that moment, a strange voice was heard without. N illhouse started and prick'd up his ears. In the next moment, Pc rgy saw him dart forwards, with a shriek of delight. The Captain of Partisans looked out of the window upon the piazza, a-id there the-spectacle of the night was reversed. It was old Saplho, who was, this time, nearly suffocated in the embrace of the Colioral! iSEAR APPROACHES TO SANS CULOTTEISM. 3 ! CHAPTER XLVI. i NEAR APPROACHES TO San$ Culotteism. "GOD bless you, my beautiful old nigger. I'll love you tell my heart drops out of my body, for this visit. You're jist as beauti- ful now, to my eyes, as ef you'd dropt out of heaven, and brought all the bright stairs along with you. But, Lord, old woman, what a scare you've given me. I thought you had ruined me forever. To lose eighteen niggers, without a minute's warning, aint so easy to be stood, I tells you; and I began mightily to feel as ef you had done me that Lame dissarvice; made me a rich man first, only to make me poorer than ga' broth arterwalds! Lord! with what an etarnal honest face, the Cappin kin lie; and lie so bodily;- lying through the whole melon, and never choking at the rine. (rind.) But I forgive him! The Lord be praised! old lady, I must give you another hug. I'm so spontinaciously happy." "Tank ye, maussa," answered old Sappho, quietly, and without any struggling to extricate herself--" but I tinks you wasn't so glad to hug the old woman las' night!" "Thar' you hev' me, old lady. That was kaise I didn't know you then. 'Member, you kim in like a sperrit, and you tuk me by supprise a leetle. 'Twas onawares you tuk me. I warjt scared, but I felt as ef I didn't know you, and to be squeezed rup lovingly by a body one dont know, and pretty much in the cark as we was, is mighty apt to make a pusson feel jubous and onsartin what to say or do. But now that I knows you, and what you come for, I'm your well-wisher, and friend, and off'cer, and I ;akes you continentally, as I may say, into the ranks." "'Are you still dreaming, Corporal?" cried Porgy, emerging from his chamber, and coming oAt into the piazza. !" ' 'I* page: 368-369[View Page 368-369] 368 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. "You're jist about the fattest sinner living, Cappin, anc can jist now lie as easy as ef a conscience warn't no sort of troublE to you at all. En, how did you put up that black faced satan, Torl, there, and Pomp, to back your lying for you. Lord! how nateral they lid it. As sure as a gun you'll all go to the devil together, and not one soul of you miss the road." "When that time comes, Corporal, you will be found leading the forlorn hope!-Well, Sappho, my good old woman, you are as sprightly as a girl of sixteen. You've done more w rk than all of us together. And these are my poor people. (Iharlotte, and Betty, and Cinda, I remember; and Ben-" "An' Eli, maussayou 'member Eli, enty?" Was the interruption of Betty's husband who now asceided the steps, leading the way for the group, and grappled the Captain by the hand. His example was followed by all the rest; and number- less and sufficiently various were the exclamations of rejoicing on every hand. "De Lord be praise, maussa, you come home at las'h! "Tanks be to de Fader " "Oh! I so happy, aunty!" and- "maumy, maussa come! Enty you glad?" "Glad for cry, my chile." But we need not multiply the phrases. The character of the catalogue may be sufficiently conjectured from these samples. But he who knows what a Carolina plantation is-one of the old school-one of an ancient settlement-where father and son, for successive generations, have grown up, indissolubly mingled with the proprietor and his children for a hundred years, may follow out the progress, and repaint the picture for himself.?rgy had few words, but his sympathies were more clearly expresse d, to the eyes of all the slaves, than if he had spoken them in the best chosen language. As the several groups passed up the s;eps, and l gave way for each other, the men with their wives and Heir chil- dren, the calculating Corporal could not contain his joy. Now he t strode up and down the piazza, counting with the fingers of his solitary hand. Anon, he paused to take with an affectionate grasp, l d, NEAR APPROACHES TO SANS CULOTTEISM. 369 some one girl or boy by the shoulder, according as the develop- ment showed a desirable strength. "Eighteen, by the powers, and every one of them a fuss rate for the field. Dream, indeed! Did I dream ! Lord, how some people will lie. Cappin, I'll never forgive you that trick. I b'lieve it's made some of my hairs turn grey." Porgy, meanwhile, gave the negroes a brief talk. He should soon visit the city and find them in clothes and blanke-, hats and shoes. In truth, these wereI all greatly needed. Nothing but the abundant stores of lightwood, which the country affo ded. could possibly have kept the poor wretches from freezing, even in a Carolina winter. Affectionately welcomed, and assured of proper provisions, they were all dismissed to the basement rooms for the present, except old Sappho, for whom the Captain was resolved to provide elsewhere. "And now," said he, "here is-Pomp signalling us fo: breakfast. I trust, Millhouse, that your dreams have not spoiled your ap- petite." "No thanks to you, that it haint. Ef the dream hadn't ha' come true, I'd ha' hardly eaten to-day. But ef I donlt eat now, it's only bekaise I'm still busy a-dreaming. Breakfast was soon despatched, when Sappho was called in to take her portion from the table. This duty over, another of much more embarrassing character was to be attended to-the exami- nation of the several wardrobes of our partisans, in order to a proper exhibition at the dinner party of the widow Eveleigh. The entire stock of clothing possessed by Captain Porgy (that portion excepted which he wore in common,) was carried in a rude deer skin portmanteau or valise, of camp manufadture,-the workmanship of a common soldier. Beyond a singlexdress suit, that is for dress parade, our partisan had but very little to boast. There may have been a change of small clothes,-two pair, in brief, one of buff and one of blue,-that which he wore belong- page: 370-371[View Page 370-371] o70 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. Jng to neither colour. It might have been blue once, possibly gray, but time, and sun, and rain, and wind, and frequent inter- course with the soil, had left the original ground-work ery ques- tionable, and, to be safe, we. will call it neutral. When the port- manteau,.which had never known the safe virtues of a -ock, was unstrapped, and the contents displayed, uppermost appeared the, two articles already mentioned. The blue was first examined. As at first opened, they suggested the idea of an enorn-ous sack, such as might now serve to take in a bale of long cottons. Ca- pac'o is as they seemed, howesver, the experience of th, Captain had determined that they were by no means sufficiently ample to afford him the degree of freedom which he required when dining out. To the eye, the blues were the least questionable of his small clothes, in consequence of the fact that thev had been, on several occasions,-as they seemed to need it-redippet in a de- coction of the native indigo. But even these wore a i supicious whiteness in-certain spots, which, unless he wore his hun-ing frock, by which they were covered, were apt to obtrude themselves rather boldly upon the sight of the spectators. Though faded here and there, however, the blues were intact-there were no awkward rents- or patches; and no places so much worn as to keep the wearer in, constant apprehension of an explosion. Porgy, with the help of Tom and Pomp, subjected them to a severd scrutiny, and they were then laid aside for a moment. "They're the best," quoth Porgy, musingly, "if they were not so atrociously contracted about the hips and waist. I'm alwajs in dread lest I should burst them." "Day strong, maussa." "' Yes, Tom! But not strong enough for'every thing, and the widow will, no doubt, give us a first rate dinner, an-: I am in honour bound to do justice to it. There will be wines, -oo, and I must drink,-I will drink, and try every variety that's offered. By Bacchus!- the very idea of wine inspires me. It's .ong since NEAR APPROACHES TO SANS CULOTTEISM. 371 I've smacked my lips upon the tears of the vineyard. Lift up the buffs, Pomp." The garment thus described dangled in the air from the ex- tending fingier of Pompey. "They would do well, in respect to size; but these d-d patch- es, Tom." "Day mighty broad in de face, maussa." "As the full moon, Tom, though less bright of complexion." "Ef you puts on dese, maussa, you hab for wear de shirt. De pigeon tail nebber guine to cubber (cover) 'em." The hurts of the garment were chiefly in the rear. Porgy always seated himself with emphasis. Sometimes, indeed, he came to the ground, though letting himself down never so easily, with something of a shock. The results always told fearfully on his small clothes. The buffs had particularly suffered, and in this special region. The consequence had been that it had become necessary, on more than one occasion, to "l put a plaister on them," using Millhouse's descriptive phraseology. Now, this plaister or patch, or pair of patches-for Porgy wore his clothes with some uniformity-at least in wearing them out,-were, for two suffi- cient reasons, supplied with buckskin, dressed in camp, and with sufficient rudeness. Nothing but buckskin, it was thought, could possibly endure the constant strain and pressure in the ailing re- gion. But, besides this, the buff was not to be found in camp. The art which was available in that region, was not of a sort to make the boundary line of patch assimilate naturally :with the original continent of cloth; and though, from use, the buff and buck- J skin had gradually grown to look alike, as loving wife and husband are said to do after certain seasons,--yet it needed no critical eye to discover that there were ridges, rising almost into promontories, i by which the lines- of union, or demarcation, were at once distin- guished.', A frequent renewal -of the thread had increased the deformityt and upon present inspection it was found that the craft page: 372-373[View Page 372-373] 372 THEI SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. of the tailor was even now necessary to reunite the parts, and re- new the integrity of the bonds that held them together. - "He tear out yer, maussa." "Torn!" with some horror. "Yes, he breck out, and der's leetle hole working Ser, in de middle ob de leadder. deather.) Lor, a mighty, massa, you's too hard 'pon you breeches! 'Taint decent and like gemplamans, de way you wear you clothes." "Get out, you rascal, and get ready to sew them u- at once. Get your needle and thread; or see Sappho,- and see if some of these young grand-daughters of hers can't do the work sfss clum- sily. I reckon she's taught some of them to sew." The girl was found, and,'squat upon the floor, provide I with all Tom's stock in trade as a tailor, she was soon busy wit the gar- ment. "Ef you wears de buffs, maussa, you hab for wear de shirt." "Yes! yet the dress coat is more in style," said Pcrgy, with something of a sigh, lifting both coats up at the same moment, and holding them apart for survey, in separate hands. The hunt- ing shirt was a blue homespun; the dress coat was a faint ap- proach to the proper army uniform of a-Captain in those days. It was of broadcloth, originally red, but thrice died in b ue. The latter colour, however, had somewhat faded, and the red, or a most unnatural imitation of it, was about to reappear through the subsequent dye. "Ef we had some indigo to gee dat coat a dip noW," quoth Tom, himself rather preferring the garment on account )f its tex- ture and brighter buttons. "Still I couldn't wear it with the buffs. No! no! I raust wear the shirt. It helps to cover the territory requiring t) be con- cealedand to hide those worn out acres." I "He's acre for true," growled Tom, looking at the pat ies which the negro-girl was repairing. "He big like de skairt ob saddle." th ' - i, NEAR APPROACHES TO SANS CULOTTEISM. 373 "They must do, nevertheless," muttered Porgy, with a doleful visage. "Examine the coat, Tom, the hunting shirt, and see if it's sound." "Hab breck under de arm, maussa." "Throw it to Pussy, and let her sew it up. Now, Pomp, un- roll me that homespun bundle. We must see for shirts and stock- ings." "Ha! Shirt and stockin'. I 'speck dem guine gee you trouble 'nuff for fin'." .r Pomp unrolled the bundle. The stockings appeared-well saved--the dress pa'r,-used by the Captain only on state occa- sions-of thick white cotton. They had been a present from the widow Griffin. "He all gone at de heel and toes, maussa." "Fortunately those parts are buried in the shoes. What of the shirt, Pomp?" Pomp proceeded to unfold it. There was but one. "Tenderly, you rascal; do you think you're handling a side of leather. Are your hands clean, you monkey. Look at th fellow, Tom; take it from him. He will have it in rags without a warn- ing." "Ha! maussa, only le' um 'lone, he tumble into rags he se'f." "But we musn't let it alone, you rascal, and we must be careful that it does not tumble into rags until this day's business is over. It was once the best of Irish linen. It is the last of six dozen. Six dozen! Heavens! was I indeed the owner of six dozen shirts at one time!" "Ha! ef dat was the only 'stravagance and foolishness, maussa. You le' de Coppral know youw bin once hab six dozen shu't, all de same time, he gee you h-11 ob a sarmon 'bout you 'stravagance! But, de Lord sabe us, maussa, de shu't aint all yer! All de skairt ob de back is gone." And Tom displayed the ill-conditioned gar- ment outright. 30 page: 374-375[View Page 374-375] ("!t {* aTHE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. "The skirt gone! How! Where!-True, by Jupter. That infernal savage. It was Indian Betty that washed it last. The catamount. She has torn it out and carried off the fragmen;t Look in the portmanteau for the piece " " -"Ingin Bet nebber bin carry 'em off in dis wor'. Wha, he carry 'em for. He to rotten. Ingin Bet good hand :or tief, but he nebber guine tief rbtten shu't. Look, Pomp, H'spe k he must be in de bottom day!" The search was vain. And Porgy stood aghast t the spec- tacle. "What's to be done, Tom?" Is de buzzm good in de fiont!" "Yes." "Well! easy nuff. De coat cubber de back, you know. See yer! yer's de hole for put you head t'rough. When you guine dress, I 'tan ehin' you anad slip de shu't ober, and wh n you has 'em on, I get t'read (thread) and make Pussy 'tich (stitch) two, t'ree, sebben,five 'tich cross de back for hold de two sid togedde'. Da's de way for do 'em; I see. I guine fix ent." A white yest was found in the valise; a leather stock, a pair cf yellow buckskin gloves; and, after a fashion, Porgy succeeded ia displaying, ready for use, the - entire habit which he v as to wear that day./ This done, he proceeded, with the help o- Tom ani Pomp, t put himself in harness. Talk of the iron garments of andein chivalry! Never did the closing of rivets on the part of -the knights of the English Harries and Edwards, require more time and painstaking, or cause more anxiety to pages and squires, and armour bearers and armourers, than did the costuming of ther master, that day, occasion to his two sable attendants. Such gin- gerly handling of coat, and vest, and shirt; and small ciothes, was, perhaps, scarcely ever beheld before. The adjustment of the Cap- tan's linen, was especially a subject of some solicitu le. Whie he sate upon a keg, Tom, standing on one side, and?)mp on tLe NEAR APPROACHES ITO SANS CULOTTEISM. 3'75 other, quietly dropped the garment, shorn of its fair proportions, qver his neck; while Porgy buttoned it at the throat, and slipt his arms into the sleeves, the two attendants seized the skirts at a signal, and drawing the sundered sides as nearly together as they dared, Pussy, the gil, drew nigh, and, with a dozen successive stitches, united the reluctant skirts, but not so as to cover a large waste of territory between, which, until Porgy could get his vest and coat on, remained as bare as a Pict in full armour. Porgy sat erect during the operation, never daring even to move, until Tom gave him permission by telling him- "You kin feel youse'f a leetle, maussa; but tek kear how youi ben' you back, and 'tretch out you' arm, tell you git on you coat and weckset. Dis here shu't nebber guine tan' pull and jerk, mek' 'em easy as yo i kin." "Feel myself a lit;le, indeed! I certainly should like to feel myself less!--Hand me those shoes, Pomp!" "Ha! Hello! Boy!-Wha' dis-? You nebber bin brush you maussa shoes ebber sence he bin trabble in all dat mud wid 'em." "I no see any brush, uncle Tom!" "Ha! you no see any bresh, you bull eye nigger! I tek' hole' ob you, I show you brush on de back wid sights ob hick'ry. Git out, and fin' piece ob clot', and see you rub oft de mud from dem boot 'fore I kin crook my elbow. Clot' is bresh. you war- mint, ef you use 'em so." Pomp was off, and Porgy resign'd himself patiently on the keg, which sufficed him for a chair, until his inexperienced " valley de sham" could re-appear. Meanwhile, Tom handed him his hunt- ing shirt. "Look you, maussa," said the cook, as he helped his master on with the coat-"You hab for walk 'traight in dis coat. He aint so 'trong arter all. You mus' tak' care and no t'row youse'f 'bout when you at Miss Ebleigh's. Ef you forgit, sometime, and t'row out you arm too wide, you'll-breck somewhere, I know; in de page: 376-377[View Page 376-377] O'o0 T'k1Ti; SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. sleeb, or under de arm, or mout be in de back; an' ef cnce he be- gin for go, dere's no stopping 'em. You'll breek all side, I tell. you, and de breeches will be for busting out too; and dat won't do no how, when you da stan' 'fore de ladies. Min' wha' I tell you, maussa, and walk 'traight track. Be berry preqicklar, jis' when you gitting off de boss; and when you's a-walking up de steps, don'tjyon 'tretch out for hol' de bannister; and When you's a-talking big wid de lady, you mustn't tink for raise us you arm to de heabens, as ef you was a-calling de sun to be witness for wha' you say. 'Twon't do:-you'll be breck out ebbry side ef you guine try for do all dem mighty t'ings. Set down sasy in do chair, and don't you go for 'traddle you legs too wide. I no 'pena (depend) 'pon dese breeches 't all." "It's come to a pretty pass, indeed, when such a scty scamp as you are, Tom, undertakes to teach me how to carry myself in a lady's presence." "Enty I know?" "So, you think I had better not lift my leg unadvis :dly so-' "Top, maussa; you sure for bu'st dem breeches." "Or throw out my arms, rigAt or left,-so!" "Lawd! maussa, don't you, now. De coat ready for pop eb- bry way." "I feel it, Tom! I shallbe cautious for my own sal e, not less than for decency's. But, be off; send Pomp to me witkLthe shoes, old fellow and see what you can do towards fixing up the Lieu- tenant and the Corporal. They'll need quite as much help as myself, I fancy, in fitting themselves for this visit." Tom disappeared. The shoes were soon brought by Pomp, and drawn on with a degree of care and deliberation wh ch showec that our Captain of Partisans was as duly sensible as Tom of the danger which might follow any extraordinary efforts of muscle on his part. He felt himself, at length, completed for his visit, all but cap and sword. The sword, however absurd it m0ght seem, NEAR APPROACHES TO SANS CULOTTEISM. - 37 was still an essential in his present habit, which was wholly mili- tary. It was still justified, in use, by the unsettled condition of the country, and we must not be surprised to see him, on his de- parture for the city, not only wearing his sabre, but carrying his holsters and pistols; and this, chiefly, with due regard to pro- priety of costume. But we must not anticipate. To buckle on his sabre, and don his well-worn coon skin cap, ,was the work of a moment. The hordes had been already saddled, and were in wait- ing in the court below. The voice of Millhouse was heard calling, and the heavy tread of himself and Frampton were echoing loudly in the hall. They were evidently ready, and Porgy joined them. "Let's look at you, Cappin," quoth Millhouse," and see how you're a-looking." And he walked round his superior, scrutinizing him at every point. "Your skairt's re;her short;" quoth he. "Do you see the blisters-the leather patches, Corporal ." de- manded Porgy, quickly. "N-o!" answered the Corporal slowly, peering about curiously the while; "but as you love your life, Cappin, you mustn't bend for'ad the leetlest, for you aint got any skairts to spare. Your gairth is so mighty big that it draws up the gairments monstrous high." "To horse!" cried Porgy, with something very emphatic in his tones, leading the way. "Stop a bit!" said the Corporal,-" while I take in another hole in your belt. It'll better your figger a leetle; though 'taint easy to help it much." "D-n the figure!" exclaimed the indignant Captain, breaking away, without suffering the intended service. "Look you, Cappin, ef you splurges about in that sort of style you'll resk mightily the security of all your fixins." We shall say nothing about the costume of the Captain's sub- ordinates. Enough that they partook of the deficiencies, and pro- 30* page: 378-379[View Page 378-379] 8378 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. voked the same sort of embarrassments, which vie have Heen trou- bling their superior. They-had done their best to prepare for the eyes of the lady, and they, at least, had no misg'vings, as troubled with no expectations. A word to Tom, and another word to old Sappho, who could not sufficiently admire the wonderfll dimen. sions, the great sword, and the fearful looking p'stols of ler child, and the three cantered off, at a free pace, in the direction of the widow Eveleigh's. When approaching the avenue, the Corporal suddenly drew up, and entreated the attention of the Captain for a moment. "Cappin," says he, "now's the time. Head's up! Off'cers to the front. Cappin It all impends upon you now! One 'hing I've got to say: a widow aint like a young gal. She's got 'xperence. 'Taint any needcessity, when you 'tacks a widow, to be guine all about it, and about it. They dont aix that of you. They onder- stands. 'Taint any use to ride round to the gate; jest rull down, the fence and ride in. What did I say to you afore? A widow's jest like a fort that's used to surrenderin'. It's only to summon it: and sayhere we are to make a breach, or run over the wells. Jest show yourself ready to scale and storm, and what does Jthe com- mander of the garrison: say? Why, says he-lets make good tarms and that's all we're axing--and that's what the widow'll say; but I wouldn't make the tarms too easy, Cappinl You're needing a mighty deal of assistance. Hold her to it. IGive her no chaince, and when she finds you ready to seize, she'.l give in. She kain't help herself. Only, don't you be mealy-moutaed, Cap- ,pin Go it, like a charge!" Porgy surveyed the speaker for a moment in the most perfect silence. Then quietly, with a smile, he said, clapping spurs to his horse- "Corporal, you were surely born to be a general!" In another moment the party was pacingup ;he noble avenue of ancient oaks conducting to the mansion of the wealthy widow. ' . , THE- CORPORAL PUTS-THE CAPTAIN FAVOURABTLY FORWARD. 3'79 I CHAPTER XLVII. THE CORPORAL PUTS THE CAPTAIN FAVOURABLY FORWARD. THE plantation of Mrs. Eveleigh was one of the finest and best kept along the Ashepoo. The widow had been fortunate in the circumstances which secured her equally against the hostility of both parties during the late war. She had friends at court, no matter who was sovereign for the season. Her husband had been a popular officer in his Majesty's army, and, when not on service, had been a favourite among his neighbours. The widQw shared his popularity, possessing, in eminent degree, those qualities of character by which he had secured it. Her estate, accordingly, had escaped that harrying process, by which so many of those around her had been devastated; and the excellence of the land, the skill, sobriety and integrity of her overseer; good seasons, profitable staple (rice) and her own judicious economy, had resulted in a constant increase, by which she had become one of the wealthiest persons of this region of country. She lived, during the greater portion of the year, upon her estate, and this had been an additional secret of her prosperity. ler presence had served, not only to promote the success, but the charm and beauty of her plantation. Her fields were well distributed, always kept clean and under good fences; the grounds were well laid out; the undergrowth kept down; the woods trimmed up; the groves, whether of oak or other forest trees, such as wooed the wandering footstep, and appealed sweetly to the musing fancies. Long shadowy avenues, on three sides, conducted to her dwelling which stood among sheltering clumps of a growth extending far beyond all human memory; while the house itself, of ample dimensions, and built in a style at once tasteful and simple, was furnished with page: 380-381[View Page 380-381] 380 TH SWORD AND THEt DISTAFF. all the attractions which, in that day, distinguished the mansions. of American refinement. The morning was a mild and bright one. As Captain Porgy and his two companions cantered up the avenLe, Mrs. Eveleigh might be seen, with her son, sitting in the open piazza. "They're 0n the look out for us, Cappin," said the Corporal, with an air of triumph. "She's mighty airnest to see you, I tell you. Now, Cappin, 'member what I've said. Now's -:he time. All the signs is favorable. Don't you let the chaince slip through your fingers. No man gits a widow by being bashful about it. It's the bold heart, a'ter all, that gits the good tiings of this life. When the/fruit's ripe it's only to shake the tree. Yol. needn't climb, bu jest take hold, like a man, with a de-armina ion like, never to t go, 'till your eend's answered. That all. Now go ahead." / With the air of a man who has given the las, words lof coun- sel to a young beginner, when sending him forward to ihe fight, our Corporal waved his one hand, and suffered his superior to ride ahead. Porgy answered only with a faint sm'le. He seemed uneasy, if not chafed at the- Pertinacious conceit of his iollower; while Lance Frampton, when Millhouse had fallen back arid joined him, took occasion to school the veteran in unexpected s'yle, and with some warmth. "Look you, Corporal, 'twont do for you to be talkir-g to the oCaptain as if he was a boy, and you was his teacher. YDu'd bet- ter be quiet now before-you make him angry. He knovrs you're his friend, and that makes him stand a good deal from you; but what can you teach him about fine people, and ligh life, and the sort of behaviour he's to behave when he's in company with rich ladies in their own houses. He knows more of such people than you and I ever saw, and don't want any education hkw to do when he gets among 'em. You'd better shut up now in all these matters. I see he don't like it, and you'll some day go jest one step too far, and you'll rouse him." THE CORPORAI, PUTS THE CAPTAIN FAVOURABLY FORWARD. 881 Millhouse glared upon the Lieutenart with mixed looks of sur- prise and indignation. When he recovered himself, he said. "And don't I know what's good for him, and don't I see what's needful to save him from the cussed sheriff. He'must marry this rich widow, I tell you; that's his only chaince." "Well, he won't, I'm thinking." "Why won't he! She's eager enough, I see, to ax him her- self." "I don't believe a word of it; I don't believe she'll have him, and you're just doing wrong now, to put such ideas into his head." "She wont!-Lord, Lance? as ef you had any ixperence to know. Why, look what she's done for him a'ready; .and Icck at her axing you and me to come and spend the day and take dinner. Don't you know, as well as me, that these people never yet axed people of our sort into their houses, or let 'em set at their table. It's only bekaise we're friends of the Cappin that she axes us." "It's because we helped to save hei son's life and her own. It's because she's grateful; and if you're right minded, you'll just be quiet all to-day while in her house, and be respectful, and listen only, and answer when you're spoken to, and just say as little as you can in civility; for we aint asked to be heard; it's only be- cause she wants to be grateful. Now, I must say, Corporal, you've too great an ambition to be a-talking. The less you talk, the bet- ter; for though you're a sensible man enough, in actual service, yet you're not the person to speak the sort of things that the great people likes to hear." "Well, I must say, there's no eend to the conceitedness of young people. Here, Lance, you, only a brat of a boy, as I may say,- though a very good one,-you're a-teaching me; and me old enough to be your gran' fayther. I wonder ef you won't, some day, show me how to work my way into my egg, by telling me ^.- page: 382-383[View Page 382-383] 3 82- V THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. to crack it at the butt, and on the eend of the table. Jest you- don't consarn yourself, my boy, in this business of the Cappin, and ef I don't help him to git this rich widow, then oke your finger at my eyes whenever I goes to talk." "Take care That's all, Corporal. You'll be burring your fingers, some day, by a fire that you wont see till you're in it and can't back out." The warning was in low tones. The party was quite too nigh the house to admit of more. Captain Porgy-w^s already dis- mounting-a performance executed with less deliberation than usual, and more effort. Let us add that it was successft 1; what- ever the peril to his garments, they survived it; and he proceeded to ascend the steps of the dwelling, conducting to t4.e piazza. Young Arthur Eveleigh descended to meet him, catching his hand and welcoming him with a warm and hearty grasp, whici declared the impulsive and generous nature of the boy. Mrs. Eveleigh stood at the head of the steps with her hand extended in Welcome also. Her manner, simple and unaffected, gerial and friendly, was that of the accomplished lady, well versed in tie proper graces of society. Arthur Eveleigh remained on the st ps to re- ceive the followers of the Partisan. These were welcomed up also; and a gracious bow was accorded them by the widow, when they reached the piazza. Here, they all seated themselves, following the example of the lady and the Captain. "The day is so mild and genial," said the widow, 'that we have suffered the fire to go out. 'But you soldiers scarcely need a fire; and Arthur and myself, since breakfast, have nc; felt the want of one. We have been talking of you and your rave fol- lowers, Captain, all the morning. Going, for the twentieth time over all the details of that fearful day, from tie perils lhf which you rescued us." "Too happy you will believe, my dear Mrs. Eveleigh, in being of the slightest service to you," was the gallaLt answer of the Captain .. THE CORPORAL PUTS THE CAPTAIN FAVOURABLY FORWARD. 388 "That was a most bloody leetle skrimage," put in the Corporal. "Them rascals gin you a most awful hitch, ma'am; and ef twarnt for the Cappin thar, there's no telling what might have happen'd in the long run. It's the Cappin, ma'am, that's about the best man, I ever seed, to fight for the women folk. He was born, I may say, to-be their sav'our and purtector!" Porgy glared sternly at the speaker, who, fancying he had been making a highly profitable, yet delicate suggestion, leered first at the widow, then at the Captain while he spoke, with the manner of one who seems to say, "I have set the ball in motion-see that it dont come to the ground between you." Mrs. Eveleigh answered the Corporal with a kind manner, saying- ' "We owe him a great deal, certainly, sir, but we owe equally our gratitude to yourself and your young companion. My son, I am sure, will always regard you both as his friends, :and if I do not adequately acknowledge your help, it is only because all lan- guage must fail to do so, I feel that, but for your arrival and timely and judicious succour, my son and. all of us would have been murdered. "That you would, ma'am! Them villains warn't a bit too good to sculp you in the bargin ; but they've got their sass and dressing, and some on 'em. will never trouble the high roads of this airth agin. For them that got iff, it's jist enough to know that the Cappin's in these quarters, and they'll be mighty cur'ous how they keeps out of them. I don't think they'll be the pur- sons tc( break into any hen roosts in this part of the country. Ef there was any man in this world born to be the nateral protector of a plantation, it's the Captain thar." Porgy twitched uneasily in his chair, while the Corperal pro- ceeded- !' Lawd, ma'am, to think that a pusson that can cut his way through an inimy's bloody bagnets, a whole rigiment, should be r r page: 384-385[View Page 384-385] 884 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. so tender at the same time, and sich a purtector of p)or, tren- bling dangerous wimmin! To think how a pusson that shouts so furious when hle's at a charge,--how soft he kin mak 3 his voice when it's to a woman he's got to speak! It's a-most -wonderfil and not to be calkilated, the difference 'twixt the same mai, when he's at them - different dealings!" v Porgy could stand it no longer. He broke out- ! "( Why, Corporal, Mrs. Eveleigh will suppose that I have em- ploved you especially as my trumpeter, and not as my overseer. Shut up! my good fellow, or speak of Byour own valour and yoir own tenderness, if you please. 'As I have no apprehe:sions that I shall be suspected of any deficiency when either is needed, it!s no policy to insist upon them now, lest both of them be comes sus- pected." The widow saw the Captain's uneasiness and smiled?leasantly, as she said- l "The problem seems to puzzle Corporal Mil er-" "Millhoue, ma'am, ef you please." "Millhouse,- Corporal Millhouse-" "There was a Corporal Miller, ma'am, that b'longed to the Pennsylvany rigiment, and he went over to tie inniuTy on that bloody affair when they wanted to sell Gineral Greene,-you ro- member, I reckon; that time when the Ginera. sent off full speed to call the old Fox, and we poor malitia men to keep'his cont nentallers in order." "I remember, Corporal. I am glad you corrected my error. It must be an unpleasant thing to be confounded, even by mistake, with a traitor." i "That's it, ma'am; you're sensible on the subject." "Was there ever such a bullheaded monster!" quoth Porgy sotto voce. You were remarking, Mrs. Eveleigh-- "Upon the problem that seemed to puzzle Corporal illhouse." emphasizing the last syllable duly. "Yet, it seems toIhave been , . I THE CORPORAL PUTS THE CAPTAIN FAVOURABLY FORWARD. 385 proverbial that the most brave-hearted are also the most tender- hearted, always, Captain." "The effect has commonly shown itself in the number of wars which have been occasioned by the sex, Mrs. Eveleigh. It is pro- verbial, also, that, when all other arguments fail to inspire the man with the proper courage, you have only to goad him in the pres- ence of the lady whom he most admires.' "Ef any thing will make him fight, ma'am, that will. It's jest what you sees daily with these common dunghill fowls. They haint got much heart for fighting at any time, yet, jest let the hen be nigh, when one's a-coming, and the other, though he run before,' will dash up, and Lord, how he will make the feathers fly!-It's natur! -anc it shows the valley of the women in keep- ing up a good breed of sodgers in a country. And I do say that the women folks had as much to do in making our people fight the innimy as any thing beside, and all besides. I 'member well, when I went out with Gineral Middleton agin the Cherokees. Well, you know thar was Grant, with his British rig'lars, along with us; and no great shakes they, was, I tell you, in an Ingin skrimmage. Well, it used to make my very blood bile in my body, to see how them red coats made free with our young wo- men at the farm houses. Why, ma'am, they made no more ado of chucking the gals uinder the chin, and smacking at their lips, jist wherever they fond 'em, than I would at kissing my own wife-ef 'taint ondecent for me to speak of my wife when I aint got one, and never ixpect to have. But that aint to pervent oth- er people, what's more personable and better off, from getting a wife, I'm thinking." And here the Corporal looked, with a leer the most significant and complacent, to the Captain of Partisans, whose disquiet was duly increasing. Mrs. Eveleigh, too, began to comprehend that there'was something latent in the Corporal's speeches; buthshe had no notion of his real purpose, and, ascribed whatever was 31 page: 386-387[View Page 386-387] OOU 't iIi WURUD AN DU T'L..II DIJJL'AFJ'. , queer in his manner and words, to some eccentricity of c Laracter. Meanwhile, Arthur Eveleigh had attached himself to Lance Framp- ton, and the two young men had gone out to the stables. The widow felt the call to be elsewhere, but could not leave ;he par- ties at the moment; and the conversation proceeded, tie lady opening upon another topic which was necessarily addressee wholly to the Captain. "You find every thing in disorder, Captain Porgy. You have been a special sufferer, I know. You are probably not aware that I am in possession of some of your property." 3 "Indeed!" "Yes. As an old friend of your family and self, when I heard of certain bands of loyalists about, knowing the practices of which they 'ere guilty, I sent over several of my hands, and, with the aid of your servants, brought over to Try house such of your fur- niture as had been left after their first foray. One Grainger had been before me, and had destroyed the 'family pictures, ard made a fire, I was told, of certain pieces of furniture. As soon as he disappeared with his band, I secured, your sideboard, a couple of chests of drawers, a few chairs and tables, a pair of fine old steel mirrors, and a variety of other articles, including knife case, with -knives and forks, decanters, glasses, and sundry small things; such as you will find useful. , There was no plate that we could find-" - "It was all melted down in camp, Mrs. Eveleigh. We have been living on it in part-" ' "Ah! I conjectured that; though, by the way, the report is that your own overseer, Halford, helped to spoil you, and would have effectually done so, but that he was accidentally kiled at a great muster of the loyalists, near Coosawhatchie." "He turned out to be a great scoundrel; went over to the Brit- ish after serving a campaign with us. I suspec-ed him' before that event, and -my discoveries probably led to his treachery. But THE CORPORAL PUTS THE CAPTAIN FAVOURABLY FORWARD. 387- I had not supposed that any thing had been saved from the wreck of my furniture. My debt to you increases every hour, Mrs. Eve- leigh." "By no means, Captain. I shall owe you a debt which my whole life could not repay," "That's it!" cried Millhouse, slapping his thigh with his one hand. "That's it! I know'd it." Porgy gave him a single stern look,-then turning to the widow, said- "Do not talk of ary debt to me, my dear Mrs. Eveleigh; you owe me none. Wha; was done for your rescue, by myself and my companions, would'have been done in behalf of the poorest creature of the country--" "Let me interrupt you, Captain, by saying t!at, in like manner, what I have done for the saving of your chattels, in your absence, would have been done for any other neighbour.- But, the better course would be to say nothing of these mutual services, however much we feel them." "Edzactly--but the feeling!-" and the Corporal closed. The widow proceeded- "I am rejoiced that I shall have you again for a neighbour!" And nara (never a) a better purtector of wimmen could be found!" quoth the Corporal, with an emphatic slap of his one hand upon his thigh. The lady did not seem to observe him, but proceeded.- "And if in any respects I can be; of service to you, particularly at the present moment, you have only to let me know, and-" "There's' a want of every thing, I may say, ma'am,.from plough to shovel. You see, na'am, I'm to manage for the Cappin, who's got some of the finest rice lands on this river." "Iie has, indeed. know them," said the widow. "That's it, ma'am! You're right! It's so! I seed 'em; and. they've had a long rest. They'll bring allfired fine crops; -and I'll page: 388-389[View Page 388-389] 388 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. make 'em do it. Ef we had your force on them lads, now, Madam Ev'leigh, there's no telling what I could do! o ma'am! There's no telling, 'twould be so magnisifent! Bit we've got only a mighty small force of twenty-five niggers!--" "This was said with a wave of the one hand and a twitching of the mouth, and a turning up of the nose, as if nothing could be more contemptible in the sight of the speaker. Thej air was that of one, who, born to command armies, was redued to the necessity of expending his genius upon a Corporal's guard. But the widow's surprise was at the number, not at their nsignifi- cance. "Twenty-five!" "A second instance of good fortune, my dear Mrs. IEveleigh. When I encountered you, I knew not that I had a negr. in the world, besides Tom. You restored me seven; last night my old nurse, Sappho, who has survived the wars and starvation for three years in the swamp, came in, and reported all her children and grand children as with her. She brought them in this iorning, eighteen in number--'" "And who knows, ma'am but there may be a hundred more where them come from," interposed Millhouse, dilating again into great dignity. "Not likely! I fancy these are all I possess, Mrs. Eveleigh; they are more than I expected, and much more, perhaps, thap I deserve." "It's not onpossible, ma'am, that there's a hundredf. How should the Cappin know? He's quite onknowing of all ibis sar- cumstances, and for that matter, aint altogether the best pusson in the world to be looking a'ter them. That's what I tells him. Leave it all to me, Cappin. He knows I'm right. He zcknowl- edges I'm his sense keeper; and I am, in all business that b'longs to the making of a crop-" "In all other matters too, it would appear. But, for tLe pres- ent, Corporal Millhouse, suffer me to be my own sensekeeper." '"* ' X . THE CORPORAL PUTS THE CAPTAIN FAVOURABLY FORWARD. 389 "Youkaint, Cappin; 'taint in you. Why, Madam Ev'leigh, he's the most wasteful and perfligit pusson in this heathen world. With, prehaps, not more than a hundred giuneas in his pocket; he don't stop to throw one or two on 'em away, at a single lift upon a beggar child, in charity like." "A hundred guineas, Corporal? Why what are you talking about?" said Porgy, indignantly. "He has certainly the most overwhelming imagination! Hle has converted these eight or ten pieces into a treasure!'-With the words, Porgy drew forth the few gold pieces which he had, from his packet, and exposed them in his palm to view. "This is all that I possess in the shape of money." The Corporal whee-ed about, indignant at the exposure, draw- ing up every feature in vexation, and tossing his one hand in air ,as if every thing were lost. The widow saw the action, and be- gan to understand his character. She looked to, Porgy with a smile. He strove to smile in reply, but the effort was a feeble one, and the result on-y a faint and'counterfeit presentment. He was disquieted the more, as he began to fear from the widow's looks that she not only saw into Millhouse's character, but sus- pected his desires. It was, accordingly, something of a relief to both the parties when Arthur Eveleigh, just at, this moment, reap- peared with the Lieutenant. Mrs. Eveleigh seized the occasion to invite her guests to take refreshment, and led the way for them into the dwelling. As Porgy followed, Millhouse nudged him with his elbow. How could you do it?" he murmured--"Show jist that lee- tie heap when I was a-spreading you out?"- "Pshaw, fool!" was the muttered thunder which saluted the Corporal in 'reply, the Captain fiercely pressing forward, and corn- pletely covering the er trance as he did so. "Flool!" growled the Corporal, to himself.. "Well, that's for sarving a pusson what don't desarve it." 31! page: 390-391[View Page 390-391] OVVV T'A' rWOKD AJND THf DISTAF'F. "Here is some old, madeira, Captain, and some Jamaica. Please show the way to your friends ;-my son does not drink." "WThy, ma'aim," quoth Millhouse, possessing himself of a beak- er, and approaching the widow,-" you don't mean toilet the young man go without a sodger's edication." "His father was a soldier, sir, yet it was his dying in, unction that Arthur should never drink." "Well, that's mighty strange, I swow! 'Twouldn't La' done in our sarvice, where the only way to forgit that you had nothing to eat, was to git r' drunk on what you had. Here's your health, ma'am, and my sarvice to you, ma'am, forever." The lady bowed, and Porgy, -having refreshed himself with such a glass of Madeira as he had not often enjoyed for years, withdrew, at a motion from Mrs. Eveleigh, to an adjoining room., 'Why, whar's the Cappin " cried Millhouse, who h d been lingering over his liquor. "Acnd wharfs the widow, too " looking around him. Young Arthur stared at this familiarity, but his glance was not re:narked by the speaker. "Ah! I see!" he continued, with a Chuckle. "All's right! Lawd, ef people only had the sense to see tB thing what's afore 'em." "What did you say, sir?" said young Arthur, addressing our soliloquist-and evidently somewhat dubious that there wad some- thing offensive in what he had spoken; forming this corjecture rather from the expression of Millhouse's face than from ani thing in his words. "Oh! it's you, young master! So, you're not to drinc while you live Well, to a man whose nater is usei'd to the thing, like mine, that would bb mighty hard! But you don't feel the hardship yit; and you're young. But it's a darn'd sight better, let me tell you, never to l'arn to like it, than to long for i; arter- wards when it's not to be got. That's a feeling, let me tell you, for I've had it, jist as much like the devil having you on an eend THE CORPORAL PUTS THE CAPTAIN FAVOURABLY FORWARD. 391 and no help for it, as any thing on this etarnal airth. But, Lawd, to know as how you kaint drink makes me a leetle thairsty, andef it's your pleasure, I'll score me down two." "If you please, sir," answered the young man,; an assent for which the veteran did not wait. He had already prepared the Jamaica. Lifting the draught which he had mixed, he pointed to Lance Frampton-"Now," said he-" thar's one that makes his own law agin liquor. He won't taste a bit, but only to pleasure company, and then he takes it most like as ef 'twas physic. There's something wrong' in one's natur, when you see that. It's a sign he aint got nateral good taste and good sense. And he aint. He's good at a scout, and he kin shoot like blazes, rifle or Ingin bow; and he's not a-fear'd of Sainson and Zebeedee, the Philis- tians; but, Lawd, tha;'s all; he aint the sense; he kaint see; kaint see some things when they're jist onder his nose, and a' axing him to look and be sat'sfied." . Frampton laughed, and& Arthur Eveleigh followed his example. The latter now began narrowly to consider Millhouse as a study. The Corporal, finding -hat he had secured attention, strode the floor, glass in hand, sipping and dilating-as he went. At last, finishing his glass, he said to Arthur: "Your ma! she's out with the Cappin somewhere, eh! They've got some sly talking to do together?" There was a grin on his face as he spoke, which young Eveleigrh could not comprehend, and which he did not by any means relish. He simply bowed affirmatively. "Ha!" said the Corporal, laying his one hand on the youth's shoulder,-" the Cappin's the man to show you fine things. He's a most wonderful man, and you'll l'arn to like him famous,--to love him I may say-to love him as ef he was a born friend, and brother, an uncle, and a son,-as ef he was your own born father. Eeny young man on this airth might be happy to have him for a father!" page: 392-393[View Page 392-393] "( Is he drunk?" queried Arthur, when he and Lance again got out together, which they did soon after. "No!" said the other-" it's only a strange way he's got of talking foolish things-he don't know much what." 4 CHAPTER XLVIII. PORGY FINDS A BANKER. THE widow motioned the Captain to a seat, and took ne near him. Her manner was full,of the sweetest frankness, and an easy familiarity. With a smile, as soon as he had seated himself, she said- "Captain Porgy, I am about to take a liberty with yoI., which you must excuse on the score of old acquaintance, near neighbour- hood, the interest I feel in your prosperity, and the gratitude which I owe you for the great service which you have so lately rendered me." "Do not speak of that, Mrs. Eveleigh " i "Oh! but I must speak of it, Captain, in some degree to justi- fy'myself, if only to myself, for the freedom which I taie with you." "Ah! madam," with a courtly bow and expressive smile, " you can, have no sufficient idea of the extent of your own pr vileges, where I am concerned*" "Thank you;" answered the lady, quietly; "I am disposed to presume upon them, and will say what I have to deliver without farther apologies." Pray-do so, my dear madam." \ " 4 . PORGY FINDS A BANKER. 393 "Briefly, then, Cap;ain, I am not ignorant of the embarrass- ments which environ you, and the difficulties in the way of your success. I know how much you have been a loser by the war, and how'great were your obligations before the war began." Ah! madam, do not, I pray, remind me how greatly I have been the profligate." "I will not, unnecessarily. You have only committed a too common error of our people in these parishes; allowing hospitali- ty and good fellowship to fling prudence out of the windows. Of course, you have to pay the usual penalties; but it is due to you that your friends should see that you do not suffer too greatly. At this moment, what is left to you of your property can only be made of profit to you, by the help of a little ready money; and of this commodity I suspect, you have not been able to find enough in the army chest of General Marion to pay up your account against the country. You have got but little pay at the close of the war." "' Not a copper, ma'am! A few guineas, the loan of a friend, enough to pay my way for a week in the city-" "I thought so. Now you will want supplies for the plantation; clothes for the negroes; provisions, utensils; a thousand things which it should be your policy to buy for cash, at this moment when money is scarce, and the stock in the city is necessarily large. With provisions, I can supply you on an easy credit; im- plements and utensils for working the crop, I can lend you for present-use; I have a wagon to spare you for a season; and--" "Ah my dear madam, you overwhelm me!" "Hear me out, Captain:! With all these Hthings I can supply you without the slightest inconvenience myself; nay, driving a good bargain with yoni all the while. Oh! you will see that I am sufficiently selfish. True, I can lend you second-hand ploughs and shovels, hoes and axes, cart and wagon; but I mean to sell you corn and bacon at a good price--"? page: 394-395[View Page 394-395] 394 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. "But the pay!" "Oh! I know you have no money, bit you have credit-" I don't know-" "Yes, you have; with me, at least. Captain, and you must use it. You shall have corn and fodder, rice and bacon, on loan, or on a credit, as you think proper. If you make a good crop this season, return me what you borrow, if you can; if not, you shall pay :me, when able, at the present rates -or these articles.' "You are very indulgent, my dear madam, but-" i "Hear me a little farther. I must have no ' buts.' ou will need money in the city. You might borrow it there,?ossibly; though that is very doubtful at this moment. But it is 'ortunate that I can help you to a sum adequate to your necessities and wants." "My dear Mrs. Eveleigh--" "Stop, Captain, let me do the talking for awhile, if on y in the assertion of my feminine privilege. Wait till I confess to the ex- haustion of my budget, and you can then proceed to s low the contents of yours. I have some money not only to spare, but some that I desire to lend. I wish it out at interest. wish it safely invested. It is no great deal, yet I should not like to lose it. It will be safe in your hands. I can let you have 4ve hun- dred guineas." i Porgy's face saddened. His head drooped into his palns. For a moment he was silent. Then raising Lis head, he said4- ' "This is a great kindness, Mrs. Eveleigh, which is more pre- cious to me by far than the possession of all your wealth. It touches me,imy dear madam, to the sou;. It takes from me the power to answer. How shall I answer--how declare my thoughts, my thanks, my gratitude-" "It is-my turn now to employ your own language. Not a word of gratitude. Let us speak of this only in the wa# of bu- siness. It is a business transaction simply. I have money to put PORGY FINDS 'A BANKER. 395 out at interest, and you would borrow money. You slall have mine -" "Here, again, my dear madam, I must falter. I certainly do need money, but it will be at the lender's peril that he lends. I have no security to offei." "What! With one of the best rice plantations along the river, and twenty-five negroes." "Ah! madam, you know not half of my ill-fortune. You do not know that my plan;ation is mortgaged to a voracious credi- tor, for thrice its x alue, and that this mortgage pressed, at this juncture, will swallow ev e'tgro that I own." "I know the whole-the worst! I know that you are at the mercy of one McKewn, a person who is supposed to show no mercy if a selfish policy prompts the other way; I know that he has a lien upon your plantation, to a far greater amount than the place will sell for; but I also understand, Captain, that he has no lien upon your negro s-- "Ah! madam, how is that?" "These are not mortgaged. They will become liable for your debt to McKewn should he obtain a judgment against you, and a part of my scheme is to make you indebted to me, that we may save these negroes from him. You shall borrow my money, buy my corn and bacon, and give me a mortgage upon the negroes, which shall at'all events se cure them from him." "You are my saving langel. By Jove, my dear madam, you take me out of 'the depths. I have been desponding, in the very slough of despair, for a week past. You hold me up by the locks while drowning. iI accept your offer. Now that-I can give you security, I will take your loan. God bless you, my dear Mrs. Eveleigh, you have made my heart of a sudden very light." The Captain caught the widow's hand, carried it to his lips, and kissed it fervently. At ;hat moment, he thought it the prettiest and whitest hand he hadi ever seen. When he looked up, the r i page: 396-397[View Page 396-397] i.7U ' T.! l::i JT W OIUl ANJI 'lI' tl V1. ITAf!F. . widow saw the moisture in his eyes, but, like a considerate lady, took no heed of it. She proceeded without seeming conscious o0 his raptures. "This understood, Captain, let us see how the arrangement can be carried out. In anticipation of your acceptance of my propo. sition, I had prepared these letters. Here is one for Saunders & Dart, which will procure for you five hundred guineas, or even more should you need it, on your giving a mortgage upon a suffi- cient number of your slaves, their value to be estimated at the present market prices." "You shall have a mortgage upon them all, my dear madam." The widow smiled. ".Not so, Captain. You forget that twenty-five negroes are worth a great deal more." "True; but I prefer that they should be secured to you, lest they fall into worse hands." ' But, myndear sir, suppose I were to die, what would be your security? My lien would be a valid one." "My security is in your son. You have only to confide to lim the transaction. I have every confideLce that a son, trained by you, must be a youth of honour." The ;idow looked at the speaker witL affectionate gravity. ' Be it so," she said; "I will, however, see that there shall be a legal security which shall prote.:t you,"%ven from my son. Here is another letter which I should suppose scarcely necessary, since you, yourself, must know the party to whom it is addressed." Porgy read the address- "'Charles Cotesworth Pinckney!'-surely, I know him well. We have served together! I knew him well before the war." "Nevertheless, take the letter, and confide your legal difficulties to him. UHemust save you from McKewn, if possible. He can do so, if any body can. I have 'already spoken to him of your affairs; do you get him to revse your accounts with MeKewn. There ' 1 '\ PORGY FINDS A BANKER. 397 are some particulars, in respect to this man, which move me to suspect him of great frauds in your case and that of other per- sons. At present, I will say nothing of what I know or suspect; but if I could recover the box which was stolen from me the other day by these outlaws, I could show you a paper which, I think, would give us a hold upon this person, McKewn, by which -we should compel him to come to reasonable terms. But it is need- less that we should spaek of this now. Here are the letters. I have said all that I have to say." "You have saved me, Mrs. Eveleigh. What woman would have done for me what you have done 8'? "Many, I trust; knowing the circumstances, and in the same condition to serve you." The Captain shook his head, and, taking her hand, said- "You are a wonder of a widow! You have the soul of a man!" - She smiled. "I suppose I must tase such a speech as a compliment, com- ing from one of the masculine gender." "Ah!" said! he, "you know what I mean! You are not a girl -not a child-not fiivolous or feeble. You have a soul! You have earnestness and simplicity, and these make sincerity of char- acter. You have faith, 0oo, and-" "Which, by the way, Captain, is not often a manly virtue.- There, I fancy, is where our sex has the advantage of yours. You, perhaps, arg an exception. Here, for example, you are willing to trust me and my boy, with all your property, without any secu- rity." . - "Ah, madam, I could cheerfully give it to you both, did you need it. The pleasurable feeling of sweet faith and confidence, and generous unreserve, and liberal sympathy, which you have this day shown me, is more grateful to me than any amount of wealth or money. I now know where I can confide. I feel, too, 32 d !. .J I page: 398-399[View Page 398-399] 898 THE:-SWORD AnD THE DISTAFF. that there- is one, at least, who can c nfide in me. We do not watch each other as victims, or as bir s of prey; seeking to de- vour, fearing to be devoured. Madam, if you will permit me, I will be your friend-your friend." She gave him her hand. \ "No more now, Captain; le us go to the hall. I hear the dinner signal." They rose\; she led the way out, but paused at the door. "By the, way, Captain, your one-arned soldier seems a very queer creature." The Captain seemed annoyed, and' eered into the eyes of the widow, as if to fathom the extent of her discoveries 'or her suspi- cions. "Yes," said he, "a very queer creature. He will say many things to surprise you. Army life sometimes spoils a good fellow, who, if he remained humble, might be a favourite. Don't heed him, I pray you. He is good enoug i in his way-devoted to me--imprudently devoted, I may say ; and sometimes officious enough to save me against my will." "Surely, you should not complain of such officiousness." "I don't know! One would have a vote in these matters. The Corporal's friendship is not sufficiently indulgent. Still, he is de- voted to me-would die for me, witho t a murmur, and fight for me to the last,; but the scoundrel wants to think for me, also; and that is an offence-if the thing we] e not so ridiculous-that I should not much tolerate. His misfortune is not to know how much a simpleton he is." 'Simpleton! I should suppose him rather shrewd than sim- ple," said the widow, with a smile. "Yes; he is shrewd after a fashion-shrewd in all those re- spects which belong to his mode of life, and the narrow range of his intellect. He is shrewd, like the beaver or the possum: knows how to find a shelter for his hide, and can find, by instinct, ! PORGY FINDS A BANKER. 399 where the corn and a orn may be gathered. He will house and hive, while I should freeze and starve, perhaps. It ism his misfor- tune that his sharpness has stimulated his self-esteem, as is usual- ly the cake with persons of his class who prove successful. If, for example, he should drive a great bargain in rice or butter, he 'would just as lief explain the law to Cotesworth Pinckney, as to Tom, my cook. Ten to one, should he see you at the harpsi- chord, he will give you a lesson in music." "I shall be careful how- I afford him the chance." " He is only a grub, a human grub, with a monstrous instinct for acquisition and saving; no more; but withal useful, and to be cherished-at a distance. I have suffered him to come too near, and familiarity has somewhat blunted me to his obtrusive- ness. I see the evil of it only when he comes in contact with others. He has been faithful, however, and I cannot cast him off. As long as I have a home, he must share it." Fordham tells me that he is to be your overseer." "He volunteered; ihsists that he knows all about it; and has set his heart so completely upon it, that, even if I wished it oth- erwise, I could not well deny him. At all events, I will give him a fai, trial this season.' "Fordham will cheerfully assist him." "Oh ! bless you, he fancies he can teach Fordham his business. I tell you he is a simpleton." "But he must not be suffered to ruin your crop." "Fordham shall assist me, with a hint, should there be any rea- son to suspect this danger. Meantime, dear madam, please give the fellow no heed. He will say many things that will startle, if not offend. But the blockhead means no evil.-Will you take my arm ?" page: 400-401[View Page 400-401] 400 THE) SWORD AND TEE DISTAFF. CHAPTER XLIX. THE CORPORAL PUTS A SPOKE IN 'HE CAPTAIN'S WHEitL. As the. Captain and the widow emerged from the inner room into the hall, they discovered the Corporal pacing, to and fro, around the apartment. As soon as he saw them, he exclaimed, almost loud enough for every body to hear- "'Arm in arm, by the pipers. Lawd! how the world moves!" And he advanced to them, bowing, with the most complacent grin. "Dinner is a-waiting, I'm a-thinking; but Lawd! there's some business that mus'nt be hurried. A man must take his time, ma'am, in some things, even though the roast beef is a-cooling on the dish. Eh, Captain!" And, wheeling to leeward of the Captain, as he spoke, he thrust the stump of his game-arm into the ribs of his superior. Porgy turned quickly, and gave the subordinate a look speaking daggers; but the other only grinned. "All right, I see!" said he, "thar's the track. Go ahead!- Dinner below! I've been down a'ready to see how it's laid out. Things look mighty nice. - Good management in this house.- Roast-beef for dinner;-a round of corn beef-also! Tongue! cabbage! potatoes! Seen 'em all in the kitchen. Woman cook! Had a talk with her. Good cook enough; but scolds like thunder, and lays on with a double fist when tLe boy don't fly.--Hem!- flow she kin laugh! It's a sensible woman that laughs out free. Sign there ain't no vinegar in the nater." Such-as the widow and Capt. Porgy led the way into the base- ment-was the running fire of speech which the Corpora] kept up audible to all. The widow laughed outright as she listened, and, \ - 1 o THE CORPORAL PUTS A SPOKE HN THE CAPTAIN'S WHEEL. 401 though somewhat startled by the merry peal which he heard, we yet see that the reflections which it provoked in the mind of the old soldier were not of a disagreeable nature. Lance Frampton and young Evleigh followed; the latter wondering, as well he might, at the speech and conduct of Millhouse; but satisfied to think, with Frampton, that he was simply silly and with no harm in him. The dinner table was spread as the parties entered the saloon. The Corporal has already given us a notion of the viands put before them. The widow took her seat at one end of- the ta- ble; her son at the other; Porgy occupied a side to himself, while the Lieutenant and Corporal took the other. A couple of liveried servants were in waiting. The lady herself pronounced a grace, and the proceedings began. Porgy was in good spirits. His mind was somewhat relieved of its troubles, and the sight of din- ner was calculated always to give it animation. The return to well-known aspects of civilization, so different from his camp expe- rience, was also a source of unspeakable satisfaction. "Ah! madam!" said he, "I feel, as I look around me, that I may once more become a gentleman. I have been little more than a savage for the last five years. The camp makes sad havoc in the tastes of a gentleman. Rough fare, rough usage, the bare earth for a table, lean beef, bad soup, no bread, fiequently no salt, and bad cooking-these are enough to endanger any man's hu- manity. Talk of patriotism as you will, but, truth to speak, we pay a monstrous higi price for it in such conditions as we have I have been subjected to in this warfare." "But it does so sweeten the heart, Cappin, when we gits a good dinner like this here, at the last. Now, this is what I calls a raal good dinner, Madam Ev'leigh. That roast is done jest to a right brownness; tho igh I was beginning to git mighty jubous that it would be overdone, a-waiting for you and the Cappin. I was be- ginning to think that you was a-sarving the cook with onjustice. Now, you've got a mighty good cook, for a woman. She aint ed- 32* page: 402-403[View Page 402-403] 402 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. zactly up to our Tom, I'm a-thinking; mut then Tom's a merracle of a cook, and at stew, roast, brile or bake, he ain't got his match, I've a notion, in the whole country. B t your cook'll do. She's monstrous cross and ugly; I bed a talk with her in the kitchen afore dinner-but she knows how to do a thing, and the way she makes the leetle niggers fly,-is a sensible sight for any man that wants to know how a nigger ought to be managed. Now, ef she was about six months under our Tom, Le'd make her fuss-rate." The Corporal made this long speech while waiting upon Framp- ton, who, op public occasions, like the present, officiated as his carver. This duty was not often needful in camp where one grasped his bannock in one hand and his slice of bacon in the other; where the carver was as frequently the broad-sword as the knife, and the fingers supplied all defic'ency of forks. Mrs. Eve- leigh smiled as she answered- "Old Peggy would scarcely tolerate 'eing sent to school at this time of day, even to such a proficient as the Captain's Tom. She has as rar; an opinion of her own meri;s as a cook, as if she had graduated with all the honours fifty years ago. But I have no doubt of Tom's superior merits. Colonel Singleton has been fre- quent in his praises, and Cotesworth Pi ickney insists upon him as beyond all comparison in a terrapin stew." "Pinckney knows," said Porgy, "if any man. He lhas a pro- per taste for the creature comforts, and has done me the honour, frequently, to discuss with me Tom's performances in this prepa- ration. But 'old Peggy' need'nt fear comparison with any body. This beef is excellent. Pray, Mrs. Eveleigh, how did you save your cattle from the marauders." "As I saved every thing else, Captain, by having friends on both sides of the question. The leading whigs were personally friendly; while the rank and position of my husband, in the Bri- tish army, secured me protection on that quarter. He- was inti- mate, besides, with General Leslie, and this was of great impor- . THE CORPORAL PUTS A SPOKE IN THE CAPTAIN'S WHEEL. 403 tance to my interests. Since the General has been in command, I have lost nothing. The result, I confess, has made me somewhat unpatriotic. Z supplied the enemy with aid and comfort, but al- ways, in the phrase of the tradesmen, for a consideration. I sold cattle and rice to the Commissaries, and always got the first prices. I thought it better wisdom to do this, than make ene- mies by refusing, and have my cattle driven off, and my houses burnt. The war, accordingly, which has ruined so many, has made my fortune." "Well, ma'am, ef you'll jest listen to me, you'll- be axing how you're to keep the fortin! It's a mighty deal easier to make a fortin' than to keep i;. I reckon thar's few women that kin keep what they makes. It's for them to find out the right sort of hands to put it in. Ef they trusts themselves, it's a-most always sure to slip through their fingers. All women ought to have a guardeen by law and na ur'. And the guardeen, in course, ought to be a man-body. Now the nateral needcessity of a woman, I may say, jest so soon as .he gitg old enough, is to git a husband. A hus- band is the only nateral guardeen of a grown woman; and when she's so foolish that Ishe hems and haws aboutit, the law, or, if thar's no law, tie GoV'nor, the Gineral, or whatever's the off'cer in command, he ought to look through the ranks, and pick her out the right sawt of a man. That's what I say ought to be the way in every well rigilated family or country." Having made this Significant and philosophical speech, the Cor- poral plied his fork in his plate and gave his tongue a brief re- spite. The lady looked at. the Captain, whose consternation and chagrin, apparent in his face, gave it the most lugubrious expres- sion; she smiled, and her blue eyes twinkled merrily; and he, un- able to control the sudden impulse, laid down knife and fork, and burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. The widow felt the contagious influence and yielded to it. She laughed with the frank, hearty, impulsive spirit of girlhood. Arthur Eveleigh look- page: 404-405[View Page 404-405] 404 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. ed lat both bewildered; but Lance Frampton, catching faint glimpses of the, Corporal's impudent absurdities, and taking his cue from his superiors, chuckled in under tones, as in due respect for the company.' The Corporal looked -up with astonishment, fork in hand, prongs upward, and a huge gobbet of roast beef hanging from them at'the opening doorways of his jaws. "Well, I'd jest like to know what's the fun about! I kain't see edzactly; but I reckon, now, it's something I've been a-saying, and I don't see what I've said so cur'ous. What's it? I only said,that a grown woman, with a fortin' ought to hev' a guardeen, and I says that its only nateral she should; and who's to be her guardeen, but a man-body, what kin take care of her and her pro- perty; and what man-body but her husband. An' what's to laugh at'in all that, is what I don't edzactly see." "That's good" ogic, Corporal, whatever we may say for the phi- losophy," quoth' Porgy. "Well, I dor.'t mean it for any logic or philos'phy; but I mean it for the nateral law in the case; the straight forad, up and down, sense, and the religion and the reason of the thing; and if it ain't all them, mhy I ain't fit to know nothing about -man and woman in this breathing world, that's so fill of them. I've sarved, Madam Ev'leigh, in many sitiwations;, and that's why I've l'arned to know more things than, other pussons; and what I say to you that's strange to yo!.r way of feeling and thinking, is, prehaps, on- ly bekase you hain't seed so much of this airth, and the people in it, as I've seed and know'd. But wha- I says, I don't mean for' no offence, ma'am, though, mouthe, the wisdom of the thing is what you hain't quite come up to, being a woman body, and not having an-equal chance with we men pussons." "Oh! no offence, Corporal; on the contrary, I am very much pleased at the novelty of your suggestions. They are, certainly, rather new to me---" "I reckon'd as how they would be, ma'am. I hain't often found / THE CORPORAL PUTS A SPOKE IN THE CAPTAIN' S ,WHl ,L. 405 the pusson, man or woman, that know'd quite as much as me, and that's maybe, bekase they hain't hald the chaince. You ladies hain't much chaince in this world to l'arn much about it, seeing as how you lives pretty much to yourselves; and bekase when men talks to you, thev usually talks about foolish things ; music and dancing, and dress, and how -people looks and talks, and what they says of one another and themselves. But, I don't improve, no how, of 'that way of talking. I don't see bekaise a woman's a woman that she should'nt l'arn to be sensible like us men. But ef what I says is onpleasant to you, I'll stop. I don't mean no offence, no how, as I'm a free wl ite pusson, and a sodger of liberty." "Surely, no offence, Corporal; I beg that you will go on. I like to hear your views of these subjects." Porgy gave the wilow an appealing look, but her eyes twinkled back with glances of mischievous merriment. The worthy Cap- tain, by way of a diversion, seized the decanter. "Mrs. EveleiAh, may I take wine with you?" The widow graciously accorded the desired permission, and -the parties bowed and sipped. "Help you'self with wine, Lieutenant Frampton; Corporal Miller, perhaps --" "Mill-house, ma'am, ef you please." "Pardon me, Corporal-" "Oh! no -offence, ma'am; only you see, there was one Miller, of the Pennsylvany Line, that was hung up for lying and steal- inog and sich like treasonable offences. He was a sort of Gineral Arnold for rapscalities, and I don't like to have my name called after him." "I'm very sorry, Corporal Millhouse; but, perhaps, you will join Lieutenant Framton.", "Thank you, ma'am ; but ef you please, I'd much prefer to hev' you for a partner; and, ef you'd let me, I'd rather try my liquor out of this here diccanter"- touching the Jamaica. "This old page: 406-407[View Page 406-407] 406 - THE SWORD- AND THE DISTAFF. rum seems the nateral drink of a sodger. The wine is a trifling sbrtof liquor that's made, I'm a-thinking, most for the use of wo- men."' "As you please, Corporal. your good health, sir, and much happiness." "The same to you, ma'am. A lady of your fortin' desarves all sorts of happiness, but, as I've been saying, thar's no safety for the fortin', and I may say thar's but leetle chaice for happiness, to any grown woman, onless she has a nateral guardeen, and that guardeen ought to be a good husband; and ef I was the woman, Madam Ev'leigh, to choose, I'd be for taking my husband out of the army. A sodger, who is an off'cer, is about the best of guar- deens for a woman. He's naterally used to command, you see, and he'll keep all things straight. Ef so be you was invaded, why, here he is on the spot-to defend the post, and rigilate the garrison, and train the troops, even'though they be only nigger troops; and to carry 'em into battle with a hollering and a whoop- ing that'll make the inimy trimble. Lawd, ma'am, thar's no tel- ling the vartues of such a guardeen in a family. H'll fight the enemy till all smokes ag'in, and, same time, he'll keep the garri- son in right order, ready, at the word of command, whether it's to fight or run. I wish you, ma'am, a nateral guardeen, from the line of the army, for the pu'tection of your family and fortin'!" Thus' speaking, the Corporal waved his glass to the lady, and swallowed the contents of the tumbler at one gulph.- His eyes next sought the countenance of his Captain, and he was taken aback by the mixed look of horror-and anger which he there beheld. He could not understand the expression at all. He fan- cied he had been doing the thing most handsomely, and that he should thereby secure the Captain's eternal g'ratitide. He had somehow received the impression' that Porgy was rather a bashful person among women, and he felt that it was a becoming duty on his part, to help him forward, and make the way clear before him. THE CORPORAL?UTS A SPORE IN THE CAPTAIN'S Wni-EkL. 407 That he should have only annoyed and mortified him, never oc- curred to him for a single moment; and he did not even now, while he watched the looks of his superior, fancy for a second that he'had given any cause for the expression of countenance which he saw him' ear.. He rather thought that the Captain laboured under some sudden indisposition. "Air you sick, Cappin You look so. Somethings disagreed with you, I reckon." "I should think so!" answered Porgy, -with an audible groan. "Take some of that, Jamaica," cried the veteran, pushing the decanter across the table. "It's that Frenchified stuff you've been a-drinking. I inever did hev' any opinion of that sort of washy liquor. Try tfe Jamaica." "Not a drop, sir!" answered the Captain, sternly, pushing the bottle from him. "Not a drop. You cannot know what's the matter, sir; if you could- " Porgy arrested himselfL -Speech and look were equally tending to an explosion. Milhhouse very complacently responded- "Well, thar's migLty few cases of -trouble in the body, that .I kain't know what to do for. There's the stomach and the liver and the witals,-why, Cappin, for any trouble in either of them, there's no physic like Jamaica. Sometimes it's an inside, some- times it's an outside, epplication; but every way its a-most al- ways good. I don't mean to say, Madam Ev'leigh, that it's so igood as Madery for troubles of woman as 'for the troubles of men; but I'd rether resk my chainces on Jamaica, than on eeny other phyjsic I ever seed. It's most powerful vartious in curing me of my troubles. Why, ma'am, when it's the 'bowels, we'll say--" "Corporal Millhouse!" cried Porgy, in a voice of thunder. "Cappin!" "Silence in the ranks, sir!" "I'm shet up!" responded, sotto voce, the military martinet, now satisfied that the Captain had misconceived some of those sugges- page: 408-409[View Page 408-409] W4U5 -THE SWORD-AND THE' DISTAFF. tions which he had put forth for his good. He pitied his inexpe- riene, looked at him with a respectful sort of sorrow, then dashed his fork into the meats of his plate, and proceeded to give his teeth double exercise for the rigorous inactivity imposed upon his tongue. Meanwhile Porgy groaned again aloud, in utter vexa- tion of spirit. He could eat no more. His appetite was utterly gone, and- a he gazed upon the untasted good things before him, which he had no longer the disposition to touch, he felt that he could never forgive the offender. "You do not eat, Captain ;" said the widow, with interest, the pleasant light still in her eye, in which the worthy Captain of Partisans read enough for his discomfiture. He fancied' that the widow' comprehended the whole game of the Corporal, and natu- rally dreaded lest she should suspect how greatly she had been the subject of their conferences and calculations. Her late gene- rous treatment of him and sympathy in his affairs, rendered the doubt trebly oppressive and painful. At all events, Millhouse was silenced, though the result was reached by a process which, suffi- ciently legitimate in camp, was hardly to be justified at the din- ner-table, and in the presence 6f a lady. The widow felt very much like protesting against the assertion of military rule at, her board, and by one of her guests; and was half tempted, by the spirit of mischief, to set the Corporal again free, by provoking him to farther revelations of his peculiar philosophy. But she felt that-the annoyance of Porgy had been sufficient, and was rather apprehensive that, with so blunt a speaker as the Corporal, whose experience was so various, and whose knowledge was so universal, she, herself, might come in for a share of the disquiet which op- pressed the Captain. But she employed her art, successfully, in dissipating the cloud about her company, and Porgy recovered af- ter awhile, sufficiently to unite with her in the effort. It was of no small importance to the object, that Millhouse did not lose his appetite, and a full enjoyment of the feast, made him soon for- getful of the tempest he had provoked. I THE CORPORAL PUTS A SPOKE IN THE CAPTAINS WHEEL. 409 "I hain't eat such a dinner, Madam Ev'leigh, sence I don't know when!"? was lis grateful acknowledgment, as he pushed away his emptied plate, and proceeded to replenish his tumbler from the portly decanter of Jamaica. "I'm glad that you've the appetite, Corporal, which rarely al- lows any sort of dinner to be unsatisfactory." "Thank ye, ma'am; but ef you think I'd lay in as I've been a-doing, with nothing better afore me, than the or'nary rations of the camp-kettle, ever with our Tom's cooking, you're very much out. It's the good things you've gin us, ma'am, that's made me dewour. enough to ,arve seventeen red-skins on a scout. I'm a-most ashamed to seB what I've been a-doing; pretickilarly as it don't seem to me that other people have been a-doing anything to speak of in the same way. The Cappin thar' has a-most eaten nothin'." The Captain eyed him with such a glance as the hyena might be, supposed to bestow upon the beast which had' some how de- prived him of his prey; but he said nothing. We need not show how the rest of the day was spent. The widow was cordial e to the close. Millhouse was invited to see Fordham for what he wanted, in his capacity as overseer; and the details were fully ex- plained and understood, by which the implements for working, the hoes, shovels, ploughs and wagon, were to be transferred, and when, from the one plantation to the other. Porgy had again some words in private with the widow, a fact which again extorted shows of undisguised delight and exultation on the part of the Corporal. Lance Frampton made -engagements for a deer hunt with Arthur Eveleigh, the two youths seeming equally well pleased with each other; and after friendlyadieus, the guests rode away; Porgy clapping spurs to his steed, and going ahead with a haste which declared for the continued irritation of his mood, and which disquieted the Corporal a little to keep up with; as he declared that, "efter sich a dinner, one don't like to hurry about nother!" 33 page: 410-411[View Page 410-411] Slav , THEB SSWORD- AND THE DISTAFF. When the two followers did reach their leader, he did not seem in the humour to notice either; but Millhouse was not satisfied that his exertions should go without acknowledgment. "Well, Cappin," says he, its a good beginning of the war. We've broke ground fairly in the inimy's country, and we've come off well after the first skrimmage. What a dinner she gin us!- And then how lib'ral she offered every thing. Ef ever I seed a better chaince for a straight up and down courtship than this, I kaint jist now call it tomind. She gin you a mighty fine chaince, Cappin, them two times when you bed her all alone by her one- self; and the first time you was with her, I reckon more'n an hour.-. l'm only hoping you warn't meally-mouthed, seeing you had to deal with a widow. The cards was in your hand, and a famous game you hed to play, Cappin, ef you know'd what you was alout." It was with singular deliberation, drawing up his horse, and looking at the speaker with a savage sort of smile, that Porgy an- swered- "I suppose, Corporal Millhouse, that you fancy you have helped this game wonderfully.". "Reckon I hey'! I show'd you whar the trump cards laid.- Ive put a good spoke into your wheels." ' A spoke indeed! Hereafter, Corporal, let me put in my own spokes, will you. Let me .play my own -game, if you please; I need- no assistance." And the splenetic Captain, driving spurs into his horse, went off at a pace, that left the two followers far behind him. "The Cappin's mighty snappish to-day," quoth Millhouse to his companion. "And-a right t be so. If he had snapped off your head, he'd have servedyou right. What business have you to be meddling with, his courtings,: if so be it's that he's after." :: -Why, Lord, that wasto help him only." . a w THE CORPORAL PUTS A SPOKE IN THE CAPTAIN'S WHEEL. 4" "He don't want your help, I reckon. He's a full grown man, I suppose. Besides, it's enough to ruin a man, seeing the way you go to work. I don't know much about women folks, but I'm pretty sure, any woman of sense, will be mighty apt to sicken of a man if she sees he gits his courting done by another." "Teach your grandmother how to suck eggs. As ef I didn't know about the matter. But that's your foolishness. There's no sich thing as a womar of sense, you see; they ain't made for it. It's nater that man is -o find them all the sense they've got any use for. Talk to me about woman! Why, Lance, I've kissed more purty gals than you ever seed, and never seed the woman yit that I could'nt hev' had for the axing." 4Oh! that's your conceit only. You think so because you're so conceited." "I know so, my lad; and that's prehaps, the reason jist why I never married eeny. 'Twould ha' seemed like a surrendiein' to the inimy at the first summons, and I'm not that sort of sodger." "Well, Corporal," quoth the Lieutenant, "I'm just willing to say that you're about the conceitedest person that ever served in the army; and, moreover, I'm a-thinking from all you say, that a woman is, just of all animals, the hardest for you to understand. You haven't begun to know them; and the way you talked to Madam Eveleigh to-day-you thought it mighty fine-was just such foolishness as ought to hang a man. Even her son, Arthur, thought you was insulting to his mother, and I had to tell him that you was a very foolish sort of person, and that it was a fool way you had of talking about things you don't understand; and he mus'nt mind you." "You told him I was a fool, did you " "That I did-!' "You did!" "Yes, indeed!" "Me a fool! That I should be called a fool by such ahop-o'-my- page: 412-413[View Page 412-413] "2 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. thumb, as you-you long-bodied snipe-you snake without a head-you leetle eend of a sarcumstance! Lord! how I could thump you now. I jest feel like tumbling you from your critter. Me a fool!: Well, I'll tell that to the Cappin. Ef I don't, p'int your finger at me and say 'squash!' Me, a fool! Mighty good, indeed! Mighty good!" Frampton -rode on coolly, never heeding him and never answer- ing. When they reached Glen-Eberley, Captain Porgy was al. ready there, alighted, and seated, pipe in his mouth, in his piazza. Millhouse knew quite enough of his superior to take care not; to disturb him in his mood. Though obtuse and presumptuous, he had been taught to observe the features and deportment of the Captain, so as to time his approaches. His recent blunderings were the result of an unusual condition of elevation, which blind- ed-his ordinary faculties. But the Captain's manner and Framp- ton's suggestions had opened his eyes. Accordingly, specially avoiding speech, he entered the house, filled his pipe, and going downito the basement story, seated himself beneath the piazza where Porgy was giving voluminous breath to his chibouque.- eWith no offences to atoLe for, Lance Frampton forebore, in like manner, to obtrude upon the- sultan. He busied himself about the horses and the negroes,- and found employment out of doors for the rest of the evening. Meanwhile, the clouds gradually cleared away, and, by tLe time supper was ready, Porgy had re- covered his good humour. His bowl of coffee was enjoyed with satisfaction and composure, and his irritation being subdued, he had leisure to reflect upon the improved prospects in his affairs, which were due to the wlidow's liberality. It was not in Is ha- ture to suppress or conceal his good tidings from his companions, and when the supper things had been removed, Millhouse, some- what humbled, Frampton, as usual, quiet, Tom and Pomp rather loitering about than in attendance, the Captain proceeded to un- fold his budget, and put his followers in possession of the facts in THE CORPORAL PUTS A SPOKE IN THE CAPTAIN'S WHEEL. 413 his good fortune. They were all overjoyed. Tom was the first to speak. tl Hah! enty I bin know. Da's good woman, Miss Eb'leigh. Hte hab sense. He no like dem fool woman wha' don't know how to 'habe (behave) to gemplemans. HE hab 'spect (respect) for gemplemans. He hab 'spect for me, Tom. He shak' han' wid Tom. He say' Tom: I yer (hear) 'bout you. You maussa is. my ffien'.' He's a lady, ebbry inch ob 'em. You mus' tak' he money, maussa, ef it's only to 'blige (oblige) 'em, and mak' 'em feel easy. Da's it!" Frampton said not a word, but he rose during the Captain's re- cital, came closer to him, and when he had finished his statement, grasped his hand and wrung it warmly. Millhouse, once more set free to speak, laurched out into the most superb eulogium on the virtues of the lady, which we need not report, concluding with the opinion that " sich a good woman, with sich a fortin, ought to have a guardeen out of the line of the army."' Porgy only lookec at him, with half closed but flashing eye, then, as if speaking rather to himself than to his- companions, he said musingly-- "And it is such a noble woman that I was to select as the sub- ject of a matrimonial speculation!" "And who better,"' quoth Millhouse. "She's the very sawt of pusson. There's no s-eckilating upon a poor pusson. Whar's the profit in it? - And ef the pusson's rich, but happens to be mean and stingy, why, Lawd I! even the money aint guine to make it agreeable to hev' transactions with her. But when the woman has the good heart ard the good fortin together, then it's a good speckilation! By thander, Cappin, now's the time to make a push into that market, and buy out the business. But I reckon you hev'nt been sleep ng all the time you two was together." "Corporal Millhouse," said Porgy, with great composure, " you are no doubt, in some things, as shrewd and sensible a person as 33* page: 414-415[View Page 414-415] t41A . '. THE HSWqORD AND THE DISTAFF. any: I know, but I think there are a few subjects upon which you had better:not expend your time and labour." "Which on 'em, Cappin? I'd like to know." "I think, for example, that when you go to heaven, which I trust you will do some My-- , Arter a time, Cappin; but Lord love you, I 'aint in any hurry to leave this airth. ' - i In your own -time, Corporal; but when you do go, I think it will not be altogether proper to undertake to show the angels, Gabriel, Michael, Raphael, or any others with whom you may be- come familiar, in what way they ought to use their wings. I have no doubt you have some very wise notions as to how birds and beasts may fly; but-,the angels, perhaps, have more experience than you, if not more wisdom, and it will require that you should see :much flying among them, before you can venture to give them any lessons.' "Why, Cappin, I reckon you're jist a-laughing at me now, out of the corner of your eye. I aint sich a bloody fool as to do them things," "Perhaps not! But when a man is so wise as you are on so mny subjects, he is apt to think himself wise in all." "Wel, that's nateral and reasonable too, I'm a-thinking." "uNatural enough, no doubt, but not so certainly reasonable, my gopd fellow. If you were suddenly to find yourself among beas an d buffiloes, you might reasonably undertake to show-them how to find their food or prey; if among snakes, I have no doubt you could teach therm superior modes of beguiling young frogs it, their jayws; as a dweller -among hawks and owls, or minks E!dNewels, you might open new views to themreof the processes by which they might empty all the hen-houses in the country; and, teaching squirrels, they might be grateful to you for new les- sons in the art of gathering corn out of the fields, and cracking hickory nuts;--:but I doubt if these capacities of yours should THE CORPORALITUTS A SPOE XIN .THE CAPTAIN'S WHEEL. :4l[S entitle you to think yourself appointed to teach young oysters how to swim, or yourg angels how tot fly; and I am even doubt- ful how far they shou d justify you in an endeavour to set yourself tup as ,a teacher of love and courtship. Of one thing let me assure you, before I stop, thalt if ever you undertake to make love to any woman on my accoun , again, and in my presence, by ;he Lord that liveth, Corporal, I will fling you from the windows, though the house were as high as the tower of Babel. 'Be warned in season ;--and now let us have a sup of Jamaica, before sleeping for the night." "I told you so,-" said Frampton, brushing by the Corporal as he stood up, in silence, to drink with his superior. "Well, thar's no or derstanding it," muttered the Corporal, after the Captain had retired. "Thar's some people so cross-grained in the world, they won't let you make 'em smooth." Tom, the -cook, bac his comment also. Hah! mass Copyal, you yer! Look out! when maussa talk so, he's in dead airnest! Ef he -tell you he guine fling you out de window, he do' 'era for true. And you know, for all you see 'em look and walk so lazy, he strong as a harricane when he git in a passion. He will, sure as a gun, brek' you neck out de win- dow; ef he promise!" "Thar's no onders-manding it!" was the only response of the Corporal to those suggestions. "And all the time I was a-doing the best,-jist a-making his wheel run smooth!" page: 416-417[View Page 416-417] OK ,- AAA"W TV ---- M li . Ad VLALM AJJ. JLJLX * CHAPTER L. T3E BACHELOR'S EMBARRASSMENTS. WE must suppose an interval of several weeks since the occurs rences of the last chapter. Meanwhile, Captain Porgy, charged with his letters of credit and introduction, has visited Charleston; has obtained the five hundred guineas of the widow; has executed to her a mortgage of all his negroes, with the exception of Tom; has procured and sent to the plantation all necessary supplies; has conferred upOn the state of his affairs with Charles Cotesworth Pinckney; has received his counsel; has endeavoured, but in vain, to see his creditor, McKewn, who was absent from the city, no one knew where; and has returned to his plantation, where he has ever since remained. During this period his subordinates have not been idle; bit have proceeded, with proper energy, to the prosecution of affairs at home. Corporal Millhouse, in his capacity as overseer, and Lance Frampton, as a temporary assistant, have stripped to their tasks End done wonders. The lands have been brokenJ up for planting; the negro- houses have been run up as if by magic; rails have been split, and fences raised; and the usual labours of severa months have been compressed into as many weeks. The negi'oes, glad once more to find themselves in pos- session of a homestead, certain provisions and the protection of a white man, have worked with a hearty will and cheerfulness which have amply made up for lost time. If Millhouse was vain of his prowess as an overseer, he was not without good reasons for his vanity. He himself thought it a merit to be boastful. "I likes to hear a man brag," said he, "of what he kin do; for then, efhe aiit about the meanest skunk in all creation, he must be a-doing, and a-doing well, to carry a decent face among THE BACHELOR'S EMBARRASSMENTS. 41 7 white people. Wanity, says he, is a wartue wheL it makes a fellow work." And this philosophy Captain Porgy did not dispute. Lance Frampton took special charge of the buildings,-saw to, and assisted at the erection of, the stables; did all the birding and squirrel shooting;.prepared lines for fishing; and, with so much success did he pursue his field sports, that it was very rare indeed that the family went without fresh meat for dinner. Zn these pur- suits, Captain Porgy took sufficient part. Squirrels were bagged in abundance; once or twice, huntingswith Arthur Eveleigh's hounds, a stout buck was tumbled in his trac', and, on one occa- sion, a brown bear was badgered in the swamps with so much in- genuity, that he finally rendered up his hide in return for a few charges of rifle bullets and gunpowder. Young Eveleigh found his new associates at Glen-Eberley particularly good company, and was hunting, or birdirg, with Porgy or Frampton, or both, every other day in the week. At his coming, always, the Corporal could be heard to whistle with exultation; be seen to loll out his tongue as if in the enjoyment of a sweet morsel, and to wave his one arm abroad, as if grasping some very enviable possession. Sometimes he ventured to mutter, in Porgy's hearing, the hopes which were still active in him, in phrases peculiar'to himself;-as for ex- ample- "The poor young fellow feels the want of a pappy It's a sad needcessity, ef so be he kaint find the right one. But his nose p'ints out the right way. He looks straight to the line of the army. Well! I wont say much;-but what's to be will be. The Lawd's 6ver al, and he'll bring all things. straight in time." Porgy, at such speeches, would give him a look of warning, which usually arrestec his eloquence before it broke bounds. Meanwhile, the vis:ts were not all on one side. Porgy rode over to the widow's, on an average twice a week, dining there usually when he went. He did not ask the companionship of his page: 418-419[View Page 418-419] "8, . -THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF, followers, on suc'4 occasions, nor did they receive any more invita. tions from the lAdy. Millhouse was content. If he was not to be permitted to assist in the courtship, he was quite willing to be absent from the scene of it. He would sometimes mutter his ap- prehensions to Fi'ampton, that things did not advance with suffi- cient--rapidity, and that his services would yet be needed. On which occasions, the. Lieutenant, reuttering what had been said by Porgy, would suggest to the overseer, the propriety of his making an early call upon the arch-angels, Gabriel, Michael and Raphael, to see how they were getting on :-a suggestion that usually sent Millhouse to the- right-about. -At the widow Eveleigh's, Porgy was received on the most friend- ly and familiar footing. He was well read, of contemplative mind, had been trained in good society, and, though somewhat wanting in the precision of the courtier, in consequence of the loose, free and easy manner which he had acquired in camp, he was yet capable of curbing himself, when- the impulse strove within him; and this done, he could 'minister to the social tastes of his fair com- panion, :with an ease, grace and vivacity, that made him always a vereygrateful visitor. 'Mrs. Eveleigh was almost wholly free from affectations; was frank and ever gay of mood; always cheerful; always'ingenuous,! and never laboured at' the concealment of her sympathies. She laughed at the good things of the Captain and freely pardoned -hs familiarities. There was a freshness and a saliency about his peculiar humour which pleased her, and when he chose- to be ser'ous, he could- rise into provinces of thought, generalizing from the abstract to the familiar, and thus coupling the most remote affinities andr associations, in a strain of expres- sion at once graceful and expressive. He quickly discovered in what respects he could most successfully address her ear, and he naturally availed himself of his discovery. Porgy, before entering tLe army; was- w&e. read in Shakspeare, Milton, Dryderi, and the bestof the then- crrent English writers. It must be admitted, THE BACHELOR'S EMBARRASSMENTS. 419 we fear, that he had also drank freely of fountains less undefiled; had dipped largely into the subsequent pages of the Wycherly's the Vanbrugh's, the Congreves, the Wilmot's, Etherege's: and Ro- chester's, of a far less intellectual, and therefore less moral, period. But the taste of the latter had not spoiled him for the just ap- preciation of the former; had perhaps heightened his estimate of them by force of contrast; and the fruit of his familiarity with both classes of writers, was a knowledge, not then commonly pos- sessed-scarcely now, indeed,-of materials for graceful conver- sation, illustrated with frequent happy quotations, which particu- larly commended him to a woman who was, herself, at once re- fined and intellectual. We can readily understand how interesting was the intercourse between the parties, in a region which, sparsely settled, and wanting in, books, left so many wearisome hours, and wanting moods, which no plantation employments could satisfy or supply. We do not mean to say that the widow regarded Porgy in any other aspect than that of a very agreeable companion. But we are constrained to admit, on behalf of the Captain, that he soon became seriously interested in the widow. That he should respect her heart, and love it, because of the liberalty she had shown him, was natural enough ;-but when he came to know her mind; the sweet graces of her intellect; her quiet, gentle, always just and wholesome habit of thought; the pleasant Animation of her fancies; the liveliress of her conversation, enriched by the anecdotes of a very large and varied experience, as well in En- gland as America, he began to admire her on other grounds, so that frequent association with her became almost a necessity. Still, there was a something wanting to the perfect sway of the widow over her admirer; something which he felt, bit could not explain, or account for, to himself. She was a fine :ooking wo- man, "'fair, fat, and forty,"-but he found himself occasionally objecting to " the fat.'" The very fact that he was, himself, too much so, was enough to make him quarrel with her possessions N , . page: 420-421[View Page 420-421] 420 THE- SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. of the same sdrt. He asked himself repeatedly the question: "Do H-can I love this woman?-as a woman ought to be loved; as a man ought to love ;-.as she deserves to be loved by any hus- band, anrid especially by me ." Millhouse, culd he have heard this question, would have an. swered it without a moment's hesitation; but Porgy never broached the subject in his ears, and now, studiously, since the memorable' dinner, checkedl every approach to it which the former mnde. "Yet," quoth th esoliloquizing Captain, " am I not shaping this passion of love into a bug-bear for my own fright and diappoint- ment? Does it need that either the widow or myself should ex- perience all the paroxysms and fancies of eighteen, in order to feel secure of the force of our 'attachment. Is it natural or rea- sonable, that, at forty-five, I at least, should need, or expect, to recall my youthful phrenzies, before venturing upon the married condition? .Is not the sort of love which we require now, that which belongs rather to the deliberate consent of the mind than the warm impulses of the blood and fancy? Is it necessary with us, that, in addition to the cool conviction of the thought, in favor of the propriety of this union, there should be a nervous -and excitable upspringing in the heart, of tumultuous emotions, indefinable, intense, passionate, eager,--which reject reason, which baffle thought,1lwhich seem to be guided rather by dreams than by right reason,-and which ask none of the securities, by which thought would shelter faith-which is, in fact, a faith itself, be- yond any of the help or the convictions of the understanding? My judgment-is perfectly satisfied with the widow Eveleigh. She is vastly superior, as'a lady,--as a woman of sense and sweetness,- grace and intelligence--to any that I know.. She thinks well and kindly of me;-that is evident. We harmonize admirably to- gether. She listens with-pleasure to my speech, and I am willing to listen gladly when she Speaks in turn. She is a noble looking woman-a little too stout, I admit-but of fine figure neverthe- THE BACHELORS EMBARRASSMENTS. 421 less, and a face that is at once sweet and commanding. She has wealth; but, by Jupiter, I reject that as a consideration. Her money shall not enter into the estimate. Her other attractions are surely quite sufficient. Yet, are they slfficient . Am I satis- fied? Why do I ask myself so doubtingly whether I can bind myself to her, for life, and feel no lack, no deficiency, no weight in the bonds I carry " The Captain ended the soliloquy with a sigh. He strode the chamber impatiently, and paused finally before the fire place, in which the fire smouldered rather than gave forth ight and heat. At that moment, the form of the widow Griffin rose vividly before his eyes. "Why is it?" he muttered to himself, "that, whenever 'I try to meditate this question of the widow Eveleigh, the image of Mrs. Griffin starts up before me. She is a fine woman undoubt- edly; good, gentle, humble, affectionate; and has no doubt been very beautiful ;--is still very sweet to look upon ;--but she cannot compare with the widow Eveleigh! She is not wise; not learned; is really very ignorant; has no manners, no eloquence; is simply humble and adhesive;-she is rather thin than stout, that is true, her figure is good;--she has still a face of exquisite sweetness, but she is no associate :or me ;-she has no resources, no thoughts, no information; has seen nothing, knows nothing! They are not to be spoken of in the same moment. The widow Eveleigh is far superior in all but simply personal respects! Yet, Griffin does move about with a delightful grace; so soft, so modest. In household affairs she is admirable. I don't know that I ever saw Mrs. Eveleigh attending to household affairs at all. Her servants are numerous and well trained. She has only to command. Yet, on a small scale, considering her inadequate resources, it is won- derful with what skill Griffin manages; with how little noise, how little effort. Poor woman, what a lonesome life she eads. It is 34 page: 422-423[View Page 422-423] 422 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. abominable that I have only been to see her once since I have been from town. I will certainly ride over to-morrow." And he did so; and he dined with Mrs. Griffin; and a very nice extempore idinner did she give him. There were some cold baked meats; there was a beautifully broiled steak, a stripe from 'a quarter of beef which she had received as a present the day be- fore from Mrs. Eveleigh; the breadstuffs of Mrs. Griffin were in- imitable; her butter was the best in the parish, and a cool draught of her buttermilk, fresh from the churn, was welcomed by Porgy with all the enthusiasm of a citizen escaping, for the first time, from dusty walks and walls, to the elysium of green fields and forest shelter. Notions of arcadian felicity crept into Porgy's mind. Every thing seemed perfect, and perfectly delightful about the humble cottage of the widow Griffin. The trees had a fresher look; the grounds seemed to shelter the most seductive recesses; even the dog lying down in the piazza, and the cow ruminating under the old Pride of India before the door, seemed to enjoy dreams of a happier sort than usually come to dog and cow in ordinary life.' The skies above the cottage appeared to wear looks of superior mildness and beauty, and to impart a something kin- dred to the looks of the' beings who dwelt under their favouring auspices. What a sweet, smiling, modest creature was Ellen Grif- fin, whom our Lieutenant Frampton was shortly to take to his bosom. And how like her still; how nearly as youthful; how quite as meek, and gentle, and devoted; was the mother. Porgy was delighted with the part of the day spent with this little family. His incertitude,in matrimonial respects, increased the more he surveyed her. Griffin made her impressions, differing much from those of the widow Eveleigh, but in their way not less strong; perhaps, stronger, since it was certain that Captain Porgy showed himself much more at ease with the one lady than the other. There was no doubt, indeed, that the superior social position of Mrs. Eveleigh, her equal grace and dignity of bearing, the calm, THE BACHELOR'S EMBARRASSMENTS. 423; natural manner with which she met his approaches, all joined, in some degree, to restrain our hero,-to lessen, somewhat, his own ease; to make him less assured on the subject of his own dignity He was sometimes warned by the lady, that the brusquerie of his army habits, would no; altogether answer;-that he must be on, the watch against himself, to check his involuntary escapades, and never to be forgetful of the fact that the time had come when, to play somewhat with the language of the poet-" arms must give way to the gown!"It was this feeling of constraint which chiefly qualified the pleasure of his intercourse with the widow Eveleigh; which made him hesitate to give her the preference; and which, on the other hand, assisted to increase the favourable impressions which a previous association had given him of the fair widow Griffin. With her, easily awed, conscious of social inferiority, looking up with great reverence to the Captain of Partisans, as her late husband's superior, he felt under few restraints of mere language and deportment. He did not dare to swear in the pres- ence of Mrs. Eveleigh; that would have been 'a terrible violation of the rules of good society in that day. , Ye; our Captain had an infirmity of this sort, and so inveterate was his ha'it, that he had only been able to check himself, at times, when in ;he widow's presence, by arresting the unlucky oath upon his lips by a manual operation; byclapping his broad palm entirely over his own mouth. Now, he did not feel the same sort of necessity when In the pres- ence of the widow Griffin. Her social standards were less exact- ing. Her social experiences were more adapted to his own later habits, and the feeling of ease which he enjoyed in her presence, was such, that, without deliberately weighing the claims of the two ladies against each other, he rated it as a something almost compensative for the surrender of the graceful, intellectual attrac- tions of the wealthy widow. He could smoke his )ipe in the presence of the widow Griffin, which he had iot dared to do at Mrs. Eveleigh's. The former, when he had dined with her, filled page: 424-425[View Page 424-425] 244 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. 4 his pipe, himself, from a store of tobacco which might have been a hoard of her late husband, and dropped, with her own hands, the little, coal of fire, from the tongs, into it. It was like a coal from the altars-of Cupid, upon the heart of the Partisan; and while he sate in the piazza, after dinner, his chair resting solely on its hind legs, his own thrown over the bannisters, his head thrown back, at a declination almost the proper one for sleep, and sent up cloud after cloud, by way of tribute to the heavens, his half shut eyes watched with a growing sense of the grace and beauties of the widow, her . gliding and unobtrusive figure, as she busied her- self about the hall and table; assisted Ellen to move the table back, brushed up her hearth with a fairy-like besom of broom straw, and finally drew her knitting to the door way, and sate down in silent and submissive companionship.' Porgy mused and said to himself- "One does not want an equal, but an ally in marriage. A man ought to be wise enough for his wife and himself. To get a wo- man who shall best comprehend one is the sufficient secret; and no woman can properly comprehend her husband, who is not pre- pared to recognize his full superiority. When it is otherwise, there are constant disputes.; The woman is forever setting up for herself. She is not only unwilling that you should be her master, but she sets up to be your mistress. Why, if she has the mind, should she not use it; and if she has mind enough for the house- hold, what's the use of yours? Clearly, there cannot be peace in any planet which acknowledges two masters." How long the pleasant surveys and soliloquies of the Captain might havecontinued, it is not possible to say. They were inter- rupted by the sudden riding up of Mr. Fordham, the overseer of Mrs. Eveleigh. He made a respectful bow to the Captain, taking off his hat, and offering his hand as he did so; and entered the house, shaking hands with the widow and daughter with all the frankness of an old acquaintance. After a while, the Captain's R ee h DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 425. horse was brought o-t, -Fordham volunteering to do the service. Porgy left the overseer behind him. As he rode off, the thought suddenly occurred to him. "Can it be possible that this fellow,Fordham, s thinking of the widow?-Humph!" And the suggestion led to a prolonged fit of musing which was only arrested when he found himself within his own avenue. CHAPTER LI. DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. THE next day Porgy rode over to see the wife of -he squatter, from whom he had received a supply of stockings, and some cloth of her-own and daughter's weaving. It was fortunate that he did not suffer Millhouse to know that he dropt th]ee guineas into the hands of little Dory when one would have sufficed for payment. He gave other commissions to the humble family, and noted with pleasure the improvements andacquisitions in -,he little household, the fruits of his own liberality and that of Mrs. Eveleigh. While sitting in the porch of the hovel, with Dory quietly nestling in his lap, he was surprised to see the widow and her son ride up on horseback. Of course, the interview was a pleasant ore all round, though our Captain felb a little awkward, at the first blush, when caught in his paternal relation with the little girl. She, too, by some strange instinct, started up at the coming of the new visit- ors and retreated to the side of her mother. "I had a call yesterday, Captain," said Mrs. Eveleigh, "from Mr. McKewL. You have; heard that he is now a resilent at the 34* page: 426-427[View Page 426-427] / \ 426 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. plantation adjoining me, which he owns. He is making the rounds of the neighborhood, and you may soon look to see him, I suppose." "oo soon, I fear ;" answered the Captain looking disquieted. "Well," said she, "we must hope for the best.-If I could re- cover that box-"' she added, half to herself, but here she stopt, and the Captain could only look curious. "You have heard nothing of your husband yet, Mrs. Bostwick?" asked the widow of the poor woman. "Not a word, ma'am, and I don't know what to think. I'ur dub'ous something's happened to him." To this the widow said nothing. After a pause, however, she proceeded to give a commission for a quantity of homespun cloth, and concluded with asking that Dory might go home and spend a week with her. Dory looked earnestly towards her mother, and the latter, with eyes filling, and with some reluctance in her man- ner, gave her consent that she should go over the next day. Por- gy accompanied the widow and her son, when they took their de- parture, though he did not attend them home. He was quite too full of serious thoughts, which naturally came up with the state- ment/made respecting McKewn. He had heard of that person's arrival in the neighborhood; but the sympathising manner of the widow was calculated to impress him more seriously than his own thoughts, in respect to the legal relations in which he- stood with the Scotchman, and the danger with which he might expect very soon to be threatened. This danger. he well knew could not long be evaced. The trial of strength must soon come on, and when he reflected upon those suspicions in regard to McKewn, which the remarks of Mrs. Eveleigh had imparted to his mind, upon the facts in connection with the abduction of his slaves, and her con- jectures in respect to the share which McKewn had taken in the affair, he felt very much like making the conflict a personal one. Our Partisan would greatly have relished any circumstances which DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 427 would authorize a transfer of the proceedings from the Courts of Law to those of arms. But we need not anticipate his reflections, particularly as we shall soon hear from his own lips, what are his feelings ana resolves in the matter. The very next cay McKewn made his appearance at Glen-Eberley. Porgy was alone in his piazza, as the former rode up the avenue. -illhouse was some- where in the rice fields; Lance Frampton had riddei over to see Ellen Griffin, his marriage with whom was ,;ery shortly to take place; and, except Ton, the cook, and Pomp, the fiddler, there was no one present to witness the interview between the partis. Porgy had oeen smoking, and the pipe was still in Lis mouth as McKewn came in sigh;. As soon as he was recognized by our Partisan, the latter betrayed his emotions by a single movement, which, takirg the pipe from his mouth, shivered it over the rail- ing of the piazza. This done, he remained comparatively cool; at all events he preserved his external composure. Pomp took / the horse of the visito, who, at once, in a free and easy way, as- cended to where Porgy still maintained his seat. As he reached the floor, the latter rose, and with calm and courtly gravity, said: "Mr. McXewn, I believe." "At your service, Captain. I'm very glad to see you safe, sir, after the warl It's a long time since I've had the pleasure of see- ing you." I "Pleasure!" quoth Porgy,-then motioning to a chair,--" take a seat, sir." - The Scotchman accepted the reluctant invitation, laid his hat down beside him, drew off his gloves, rubbed his hands, and looked about him with the air of a man resolved on putting himself on the easiest possible terms with his host. Porgy looked on with the stern calmness of one who compels himself to submit, with as much composure as possible, to an unpleasant necessity which he sees not wel how to escape. His visitor, meanwhile, began with a repetition of his congratulations; that the war was over, that page: 428-429[View Page 428-429] 428 ) THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. the country had achieved its independence, that old friends were safe, that old associations were to be renewed, and so forth. - Por. gy heard him for a while in silence and great gravity of aspect, until getting weary and impatient of the commonplace prelimina- ries which the other had employed, he himself broke ground in relation to the only subject of real interest between the parties. "To make a long story short, Mr. McKewn, I owe you a con- siderable amount of money, which, no doubt, you desire should be paid." "Very true, Captain, a very considerable amount indeed, out of Which I haves been lying for several years, and which I certainly am very much in need of." "You are secured I think, sir, however, by bond and mort- gage a "Secured, sir? No, indeed! My mortgage covers the lands of Glen-Eberley, but if these were all sold to-morrow, at present prices, they wouldn't pay one half of the debt for which they are bound. And you know, sir, there is a considerable unliquidated debt besides, sir; some thousand pounds, sir-- "Ah! yes! Well, Mr. McKewn, you certainly do not expect that I should have any money -so soon after the war. You suffi- ciently appreciate the patriotism which called us into the field and kept us in the ranks for so many years, without any compensa- tion. "True, sir, true! No body honours more than I do the patriot- ism that achieved our independence; but, sir, it is not for a single person like myself to do more than his share in such a conflict. I have made a great many sacrifices, and lost la great deal myself in the cause; and you will admit that a credit of more than five yeaas,-" "Is no credit at all, sir, under the present circumstances, unless, perhaps, continued for as many years more." "Oh! that is quite impossible, Captain Porgy. I am greatly ' ' *' DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 429 in want of money, now. Buying this plantation ard negroes, it has stript me quite and left me considerably in debt myself." "I don't see how I am to help you. You cannot possibly sup- pose'that I have any money." - "Well, Captain, I don't know," was the answer, with a signifi- cant smile. "Report says that you have money and in conside- rable amount. You have been purchasing largely in the-city,- and the rumour is-- " here a pause, and an increased signifi- cance of smile. "Well, sir, what of rumour?" ( Why, sir, the rumour goes, that Captain Porgy, returning from the fields of Mars with laurels, has been welcomed to those of Love, and--" "Stop, sir! -Mr. McKewn, I am willing that you saould repeat what rumo lr may have reported, but I must warn you by no means to attempt any inventions of your own.*" "Inventions, sir." And McKewn looked a little angrily--"I have no inventions, Captain Porgy. I only state what others have said to me, or in my hearing.' "Well, sir; confine yourself to that, if you please." It is briefly said, Captain Porgy. The rumour is, that a cer- tain wealthy widow of this neighbourhood is prepared to honour the laurels of the soldier, and supply all his -defidiencies of for- tune,-" I "EnougL, Mr. McKewr.," said Porgy, arresting him,--with a stern aspect, and warning finger uplifted-;' You have said what you have heard, I suppose, and now hear what I say. If, hereaf- ter, I hear any man repeating this story, I shall slit h's tongue for him. The lady in question is one whom I greatly honour, and of whom I will not hear any body speak in disparagemrent. There was that in your tone and manner, Mr. McKewn, just now, which Idid not relish. Be pleased to take warning." McKewn was somewhat taken aback, but! recovering himself he said- page: 430-431[View Page 430-431] "I do not know, Captain Porgy, why I should take warning in particular.. I am hardly apprehensive that any body .will slit my tongue for any thing Hsay, though I am not the man to give any provocation to violence on the part of any body. Let me add, sir, that I see no harm in the report which I mentioned--no harm certainly, in saying that a certain brave officer of our armies has been distinguished by the favour of a certain lovely and wealthy widow of our county." "There is harm, sir, because there is great indelicacy and great injustice in it. I am the proper authority in this matter, and I tell you, sir, in answer to this rumour, that the intercourse be- tween Mrs. Eveleigh and myself is that simply of friendship, oc- casioned perhaps, wholly, by a service which I had the good for- tune to render." "Well, but, Captain, there is no good reason why friendship, in such a case, should not ripen into-" "No more, sir! The subject is one upon which I can suffer no jesting, That upon which we have to speak simply concerns money. I owe you money ;-you want your money you say." "I do, sir; I have been kept out of it long enough, Captain Porgy." ' Do you mean to intimate, sir, that I have perversely and wil- lingly kept you out of your money?" "I state nothing, sir, but the absolute fact, that the money is due me, has been due too long, and that I certainly expect it to bepaid, anpai aid very soon." "Very good, sir! Such thenis your expectation. Now, sir, hear me. I shall expect from you a full statement of our accounts, with all items of charge particularly stated." Why, sir, you've had the accounts rendered you in full, six years ago." "No, sir; such is not the case. It is true, I was improvident enough not to demand them, and to take your summary state- DEBTOR AND CREDITORI 431 ments when I should have had a full bill of particulars. I require them now, sir." "In the case of the bond and mortgage, sir, the requisition need not'be answered. That is a liquidated claim, acknowledged un- der seal, aid, sir, according to law-" You are something of a lawyer, I perceive, Mr. McKewn, and I claim to know nothing about law. Still, I have some hope of justice, and, in the case of bond given and mortgage sealed and signed, under circumstances of error or fraud "Do you mean to mean to impute fraud to me, Captain Porgy?" demanded McKewn with some fierceness of aspect. "And i- I did, sir do you suppose I should value a fig your hectoring looks? Keep your temper within boLnds, Mr. Mce Kewa; for you would try to bully me in vain;,'and to let you understand this more fully, let me tell you that I do impute fraud to you-" "Ha!" rising from his seat. "Yes, sir! I think you at once a great and a little rascal. Since you demaLd my opinion, you shall have it. I believe you have cheated me in these accounts, for the satisfaction of which, in my blind confidence and folly, I gave you a lien upon my property. I shall req' ire a thorough overhauling of your accounts, from the beginning, sir, and fancy that I shall be able to find, in some pro- cess of the law, a means by which to arrive at tne awards of justice!" "Very well, sir; very well, sir," gathering up hat and gloves- and shaking them in both hands with nervous fury-"If it's law you want, sir, you siall have it. You shall have enough to re- member it all your lire." And he wheeled about to descend the steps. Here he encoun- tered Millhouse, at whose back stood Tom, the coo-, and Pomp, the fiddler, . "Say the word, Cappin," quoth Millhouse I "an I'l give the fellow a h'ist." page: 432-433[View Page 432-433] ?tJi, 'JLjatJi .W0V AJNutJ . '.LJN i JIiJLltOAJ.' "Say de wud, maussa; da's all;" echoed Tom, his sleeves already rolled up; while Pomp threw himself into an attitude, claws extended as, if about to grapple with a bear. McKewn -looked at the enemies in his path, and drew up with recovering dignity. "Am I to be assaulted in your house, Captain Porgy 2" "Let him go, Millhouse! Let him pass." The three made way for him, reluctantly, Millhouse mutter- ing- "I feel mighty onpleasant at parting with the critter, without giving him jist one squeeze!-I reckon that's the fellow they calls' McKewn,." The creditor, by this time, was on horseback. He looked back with gleaming eyes upon the group, then dashed up the avenue at full gallop. "It's cl'ar, Cappin, that the war's declared atween'you!" "Yes, Corporal, and the army chest nearly empty." "Well, we'll do the fighting all for love; eh, Tom." "Hah i da's jist de way for fight, kaise you lubs it! But how you guine fight Da' Buckrah aint de sawt of pussn to lub yer (hear) de bullet whistle." "Ah! Tom! that's not the sort of fighting that he intends. He makes the Sheriff do his fighting. Do you remember what I told you about the Sheriff?" "Enty, I member, maussa? He's a warmint, you bin tell me!" "Yes, indeed, and now, how to keep you all from falling into his clutches." A long consultation followed between the Captain and Corporal, to which Tom occasionally contributed a characteristic suggestion. Lance Frampton returned at night to share in the discussion. Neither of the parties, however, could throw much lightupon the difficulty which embarrassed them and Captain Porgy, while he reflected, felt that he Iadi perhaps brought on the conflict of THE -RANDOM SHAFT. M433 strength rather prematurely, and' that. prudence should have prompted more forbearance; but whenever he recalled the' refer- ences made by McKewn to the widow Eveleigh, te became re- conciled to his own rashne'ss. ' i ' "No d-n the fellow! whatever happens I shall never regret- what I said to him. Bettei break at- once with such- a scoundrel, than have Lim perpetually about you; now fawning, now threat- ning; always vexing your soul, and, whatever-the delay, destroying you at last. I can face all the evil that he threatens with a stout l heart, but can't, with any heart of contentment, suffez him to face me with his scoundrel countenance!" - CHAPTER LII. HE RANDOM SHAFT. The news soon :got abroad of what had taken placeat Glen- Eberley, between its proprietor and creditor. McKewn's own rage. forced him to tell the s;ory -to various persons, and Millhouse con- veyed the substance of it to Fordham, the very night that it took /place.- The two overseers had met that night, in:the'basement of the dwelling at Glen-Eberley ;.-Millhouse having taken one of the lower rooms to himself, while that adjoining had been assigned to Frampton. Porgy was suffered to live in loftier state, fabove tairs, to himself. The parties met always at the same table in the dining room, and would sit together usually of an evening; but: Mill- -house hadb his own circle, of whom Fordlhamwas one, whom he re- ceived only:in his own domain. The two overseers went over to- gether the whole history of the: relations of our Partisan :with 35 S F - page: 434-435[View Page 434-435] Mcew, as far as' they knew it, and discussed ith some anxiety the modes of escape for their superior from so voracious a person. It:need: not be stated here, that the united wisdom of the two was scarcely of a sort lp them very greatly in the encounter with the difficulty. The substance of all Fordham learned was con- veyedithe nex: day to Mrs. Eveleigh, whose interest in the affairs of Cptain Porgy was no secret to him. He, himself, feltra great sympathy for our Partisan, and fqund it impossible to avoid talk- ing over the matter, and meditating the mode' of escape. Of course, the widow saw, at a glance, that none of He suggestions of her overseer or of the Captain's, cold avail for any useful pur- pose. The next day she wrote a note: to Porgy, requesting him to, visit her; a summons which he promptly obeyed. Her son, Arthur, brought the invitation and the Captain accompanied him Ion his return. -The two, however widely removed by years and experence,had become pretty close intimates, and Arthur had learned to relish the eccentricities of his senior, particularly as he always found something in his conversation which sensibly com- pelled his thoughts in a novel direction. Porgy loved the society of the young and framed his conversation to suit their tastes and impulses. He was playful as well as :thughtful, could happily unit 'the playful with the thoughtful, as is the case usually with the contemplative mind; and, what-with narratives of the- stirring events of the army, anecdotes of persons and performances, a lively satirical vein, and a-frank: humour, he contrived, without much effort, to make himself highly attractive to the youth, who frequentlyrode over to Glen-Eberley to sit, as well as bird with him, :and who, for a time, became quite enthusiastic in his admi- ration of the Partisan. Hle fequently amused his mother with a re- cital of th subject matterof onversation between them, and learned to repeat the good things of -theCaptain- as if they were his own. Porgy, who liked the grace and sprit of the youth, was pleased wl thie: adamiration which he- displayed, and was at some pains - THE RANDOM SHAFT. 435 to secure it. Arthur possessed a pair of-foils, left by his father; Porgy gave him lessons in fencing' and was equally delighted with his rpidity of improvement, and the grace and ease of his address in swordmanship. 'In brief, the veteran and the youth were on terms of the most -cordial intimacy; and the latter, as soon as he heard the' particulars, became, of course, deeply con- cerned in the legal embarrassments of' the former. We need- not say that he could gvve no hielp by his counsels i the matter, though he; rather inclined to the opinion of Millhouse tha t he better method was to contrive soe way of fightingtthrough the difficulty, ahd it was with a modest earnestness that he whispered to the oversier his perfect willingness to serve as; a volunteer in any expedition which should contemplate this method of squaring accounts with Porgy's creditor. i: He listened with curious interest, andpossibly some dissatisfac- tion, when he heard his mother gravely rebuke the Captain for suffering himself to get angry with McKewn. "You ought to have conciliated him as far as possible. Your policy should be to gain time. There is none-in precipitating the event. Do'ibtleps, you had provocation, but--" "Very great!" muttered Porgy, but he could no& venture to tell her that she herself had been the subject. "We must still gain time, Captain-gain as muck as possible. There are now no courts in session. Theire will be none till' the fall. I don't know much of business,but JIsuppose MeKewn can scarcely proceed till tLen-" -- -' "I don't know that," said Porgy. "' know very little of- the -law, but I believe theire are certain- processes which, even -before judgment; will enable a creditor to bind or :seize a debtor's pro- perty." - - We must consult with Pinckney., In the meant-me, there is a matter whidi concerns this' perso McKewn, in connection with both of us, which, perhaps, ought to be-hown ou toyou, tougi as .. page: 436-437[View Page 436-437] 436 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. affairs at present show themselves, I do not see that the posses- sion of my statement merely, will be of any avail to your relief." She proceeded to tell of the papers which she had appropriated from the desk of Moncrieff, but suddenly arrested herself -to sa to her son- "Arthur, remember, this matter must not be whispered by you to any body. It may do mischief if repeated, particularly under impulse or excitement, and without the means to prove what I say." She then went on to speak of the missing box, and manuscripts, and to describe the contents of the latter, giving particulars, of which we are already in possession. Porgy saw at once the im- portance of the statement could the writings be recovered. "My dear widow," said he, " could we recover the papers, and prove this fellow's hand-writing, which I could do easily, we should have him at our mercy." "This was the opinion of Mr. Parsons; it is also the opinion of Colonel Pinckney. I have consulted both; and but for the un- fortunate loss of that box-" It must be found. I will find it," cried Porgy.-"That fel- low Bostwick must be forthcoming." "Has nothing been heard of him?" "Nothing for two months. I have sworn to hang him to the first tree, should I lay hands on him, if only for the benefit of his wife and children." "Stay i" said Mrs. Eveleigh, putting 'her finger on her lips, ' here comes little Dory." And the little girl came into the piazza at the moment, and en- tered the hall, passing promptly forward to the Captain, and put- ting her little white hand into his. He looked at her with surprise. Such a change as a few- days had wrought in her appearance. She'was newly clad, in better quality of clothes, made in better style. It was Cinderella, the drudge, converted by fairy hands, : THE. RANDOM SHAFT. 4317 into Cinderella the Princess. The little thing, beautiful in all her obscurity, was singularly so, emerged from the cloud. She smiled consciously, as she saw the Captain perusing the change. He kissed her between the eyes, and with a bound she darted away. Scarcely had she gone when Arthur Eveleigh showed him- self a little restive. In a few moments he disappeared also, leaving the Captain and his mother to conclude thei. conference without witnesses It is not our cue to pursue it further. Enough that Porgy left the widow with the increasing conviction that he was destined, in some way, to owe his safety and relief to her. They had agreed upon certain matters together. . They were both to write to Colonel Pinckney, while Porgy was to renew his efforts at recovering the missing box. When Arthur Eveleigh returned to the house which he had left, on some pretext of looking after dogs and'birds, he seemed a little disappointed that Porgy was gone, and at once resolved to ride after him. But he gave up the resolution in a moment after, and contented himself with taking up his rifle, calling up one of his squirrel dogs, and setting forth on a tramp into the p'ne woods. His route led h'm directly down the avenue lead:ng to the high road. He had scarcely emerged into this, before he encountered, on horseback, the very person of whose secret scoundrelism he had heard so much said only an hour before. McKewn, the Scotchman, was making his way directly towards the widow's. Arthur would have avoided him, by burying himself in the woods, but it was too late to es- cape unseen, and McKewn seemed determined to prevent it. He saw, in the aspect of the young man, the prejudices and suspi- cions of the mother. His policy was to disarm them both. We have seen that he had already called upon the widow. The rifle on the lad's shoulder, and the dog beside him, at once afforded him a clue by which to conciliate the son. "Good morning, mas-er Arthur," said he, as he approached; "good morning. You are for a squirrel hunt, I perceive. Well, 35* page: 438-439[View Page 438-439] if you will take my woods you will find them in greater abund- ance than in any other part of the country. I do believe my fox squirrels are the most magnificent of size that can be fo. lid any where. One of them can easily eat up half a dozen ears of corn at a sitting. Do me the favour to hunt them up and make as familiar acquaintance with them as possible. My grot nds are always free to you, and you will find them full of other garme. If you want a deer hunt at any time, let me hear the night before, and I will secure you a shot; and, as for doves and partridges, you can scarcely skirt the fields any where without stumblig over them." Arthur thanked him, but received-the overture with coldness. "-Your mother's at home, I suppose. I see she has recently had a visitor." Here he smiled significantly, looking up the road. The youth bowed. "Captain Porgy is a frequent visitor at your house." "Yes) sir; he comes sometimes, and we are always glai to see him." "I suppose so,-I suppose so; the Captain is no d6ubt a great gallant-r-most military men are. The ladies usually find them invincible. But the wars are now over, master Arthur, and the gown they tell us, when that is the case, soon gets the letter of the sword. It is the Captain's misfortune that he does nbt suffi- ciently credit this fact. I barely reminded him of the fct that he owed'me a certain and very considerable debt, and he was for fighting me on the spot. Ha! Ha! what do you think of such a' mode of settling a debt?" Arthur only looked at his rifle but said nothing.' "You say your mother's at home, master Arthur." "Yes, sir." "Well, I am about to visit her. I will not carry ycu back with me, knowing you had much rather be at better spor;. But i' THE RANDOM SHAFT. 439 see to my fox squirrels, will you, and remember, whenever you would have a crack at a buck, I can certainly give you one always. The youth again thanked him, and hurried into the woods. McKewn looked after him as he disappeared, and muttered- "The cub has had his warning. They are all against me. But! -' and he gave his horse the spur, and was soon cantering up the avenue to the widow's dwelling. She received him very civilly, and after a few preliminary flourishes, he began- "I have called to see you, Mrs. Eveleigh, as a neighbour whom I very much respect, in order that your mind may no-.be abused by any thing that you may have heard respecting a late affair with Captain Porgy. I believe, my dear madam, I have as much desire to keep on good terms with my neighbours, as any bo- dy in the country, and, I am sure, if there be any difference be- tween us, the fault is not likely to be mine. You must know, lIrs. Eveleigh, that I am, and Tor years have been, a large creditor of the Captain, and I hold a mortgage upon his lands. But this mortgage does not half secure me, and I called upon tLe Captain intending only to ask him for additional securities, when he fell into a passion with me, without any sort of provocation, imputed fraud to me, and I know not what, and so we parted. Now, as you may hear of this matter, from other sources, I wish to put you in the right as to the particulars. I have too much desire of your good opinion to be willing that you should hear of the affair from any body but myself, and I am anxious to assure you that, as a new comer into the neighbourhood, it is neither my policy nor my wish to have any quarrel with any'body." He said a great deal more than this, all in the most conciliatory vein. He had his own objects in keeping on good terms, espe- cially with the widow, and in fact he was glad of any occasion lwhich would justify his frequent visits. He was a Bachelor and she was a fine woman, having a fine fortune. But, apart hrom this, page: 440-441[View Page 440-441] "O THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. , he still entertained some lurking; apprehensions that he might be somewhat in her power. Thinking that she had possessed herself of the missing papers between himself and Moncrieff, yet not quite sure that Bostwick had obtained them, there was a lurking anxiety which troubled him and made him quite solicitous to make the most favorable impression upon her. McKewn was a hard but not ill-looking man, -and he had seen enough of good society to carry himself fairly in 'the presence of the sex. We must not for- get to mention that every thing about him was in the first style of fashion. He wore the best clothes, and did not stint hirlaself in decorations of his person. His fingers shone with rings. A large jewel blazed in the pin which secured the ruffles of his shirt. The fiills at his- wrist were of the finest lace. His boots wou d have satisfied the Bond or Broad street dandy; the equipment of his horse would have won admiration on the race-course; aned all his -domestic arrangements contemplated the best defined standards of the existing fashions. McKewn was emulous of the best social position, and, so far as money might be expected to secure it for him, it was used without stint or limit. The lady heard him with quiet composure to the end. "I thank you for your complimentary wishes in regard to my- self, but I should prefer not to be required to sit in judgment on this difficulty between yourself and Captain Porgy." "Ah! madam, but that I have reason to know that the Captain has been before-hand with me in his revelations, and the fear that you might be prejudiced in the matter-" "Even if this were the case," said the lady, "I do not sse, Mr. McKewn, how the matter will effect the interests of either of you . "'Ah! madam, I am not unaware of the interest which you have taken in the Captains affairs. I am not ignorant tl at it is to you, and your friendly loans, that he owes the restoration of his establishment,-and-" I THE RANDOM SHAFT. 441 "This, Mr. McKewn, it appears to me, is a business which need not provoke the concern of any third person." "I beg pardon, madam ;-you are right-I simply stated what was the notorious fact." - "It is one of those facts, sir, in respect to which there has been no privacy. Captain Porgy was in want of money, and I had money to lend. I lent-him money on good security. I have a mortgage on all his negroes." "But," with a smile, "that mortgage will scarcely cover them all. At present prices, five hundred guineas will scarcely buy twenty-five negroes, or the half of them." McKewn had evidently been a shrewd inquirer into the affairs of the parties. "Perhaps not, sir, and that is not the idea I mean to convey. It is enough that my loan is quite secure in order to justify me in making it, though I am not aware that my conduct in the transaction needs any justification." "By no means, madam; do not suppose me guilty of any in- tention to convey such an idea." The lady proceeded. "One word, Mr. McKewn. Captain Porgy is a gentleman by birth and education, who has been doing good service to his coun- try, for several years, without pay or reward, and to the grievous injury of his own fortune. It seems to me that he deserves every indulgence that can be accorded him by those who are grateful to heaven for those blessings of independence which he has -helped to win. I am at a loss to see what motive there can be for urging him to a satisfaction of these debts which can only be paid now by the entire sacrifice of his property." " I understand you, madam; and I may say that I should have been pleased to indulge Captain Porgy, but he is a person who won't let you serve him; and when he insolently called my hon- our in question, he determined me to give him n6oirdulgence. In page: 442-443[View Page 442-443] "2 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. brief, Mrs. Eveleigh, Captain Porgy is, with all his education, a mere ruffian, a coarse brutal soldier, who thinks to car Sy it with violence and a high, hand against the laws. But he shall see. His personal insolence to me, madam, is beyond forgiveness." "Really, Mr. McKewn, I do not understand you. An. I to un. derstand that your mode of resenting a personal indignity is to clothe yourself with the'terrors of the creditor, instead o'--' The lady paused. She felt that, in uttering this sarcasm, she had gone+too far; she was doing mischief to the cause which she wished to help; and t'at her policy, on the part of Pcrgy, and as she had been counselling him, ought to be conciliatory only. She was conscious of error on other grounds. She hac suffered local associations, and the current practice of the times ;o usurp place in her judgment, at the expense of her religion. She was tacitly exhorting or goading the creditor to resort fo'il his re dress to the duello. She stopt herself suddenly, and apolo- gised- ' "Pardon me, Mr. McKewn, I am wrong. I did not n can this. Perhaps you are quite right in the assertion of your claims by es- tablished legal methods. That I should have thought, or sug- gested otherwise, only shows that the subject is one tha;J should not properly concern me. Let me simply repeat the Avish, that you should abcord as much favour to a brave man,-not a ruffian, sir,-one whom, perhaps, you have somewhat ruffled,-as may be consistent with your interests. It will do you no hurt, b it rather much good in the neighbourhood, if you forbear as long as pos- sible towards ote who is such a general favorite." "Nay, madam.! One who is evidently a particular favorite," he answered with a sneering smile. The cheeks of the ladvy flushed and her eyes flashed fiercely. I am hardly prepared to understand you, Mr. McKewn though' it is evident from your looks and manner, that you designed some- thing very sarcastic-and offensive--- P THE RANDOM SHAFT. 443 "By no means, Mrs. Eveleigh.-" "Let me say, sir, by way of protecting myself, that I have been a soldier's wife; and I have learned some lessons from his, feelings and opinions, which I may not advocate, or argue, or de- fend in any way, but the force of which I acknowledge, and the laws of which I obey. I am a womaan, sil; it is true; but if it needs, for the assertion of my womanly dignity, that I should lift the weapon of the man, I shall feel no womanly fears ini doing so. If you have any scruples, sir, in resenting personal indignities as men are apt to do, I have none; and though I have many friends sir, who would cheerfully do battle in my cause, I would not suf- fer one of them to incur any peril of life or limb, while I am able to stand and confront the insolent, myself. I trust you understand me. Here, if you please, our conference must end." She had risen when these things were to be said, and McKewn had risen also. Her tall and portly form, her commanding atti- tude, her sharp, clear voice, the indignant fires in her eye, breath- ing equal scorn and nobleness, were a study for the dramatic paint- er; She was Boadicea at the head of her Britons. She was Ze- nobia at the moment of her greatest confidence, when she defied all the strength of Rome. McKewn was awed. He stammered Isome inconsequential apologies, which only caused her lip to curl with increasing scorn. "Go, sir," she said, "no more!--and yet, one word, sir. There was a person, one Bostwick, a Squatter for many years on my lands, whom I had, te fortune to encounter at Colonel Moncrieff's when you and he were in conference together. Do you know, sir, what has become of that man, Bostwick?" It was a mere instinct--a somewhat savage one-that prompt- !ed the widow to send trhat shaft at random, seeking the proper victim. It struck him. McKewn, awed before, was now shocked, ;almost paralyzed. His face grew pale as death, his lips parted put not for speech. He stood for a moment vacantly gazing up- i page: 444-445[View Page 444-445] "4: THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. on the inquirer, as still erect, with finger pointing direcJly to hi, she seemed to await his answer. With a prodigious effort he a. length gave it-only a single sentence, uttered with a gasp.. "I know nothing of the man." "Ah!--well!-enough!' She said no more, and, with a faint "good morning, madam," he hurried from the apartment. CHAPTER LIIIL "ANCE FRAMPTON GOES OFF SUDDENLY. MeKEWN rode home with scarcely a consciousness of his pro0 gress. It was some time before he recovered from the Parthian shaft of the widow. He saw at a glance whither her suspicions tended, and it was only after a long interval, that he refected that Thers were suspicions only; and so long as the missing p pers were not forthcoming, no matter what suspicions were enterta ned, they could in n6 respect avail against him. But were the papers mis- sing? Had not Bostwick deceived him? Was there not some reason for supposing, from the course taken by the widow, that she was still in possession of her proofs? But a little calm re- flection satisfied him to the contrary. "If she had them, she never, with such a feeling towards me, and with such a passionate nature, could have kept quilt so long. It is her passion that speaks now. Had I not provoked her, she never would have let out so much. I'm glad that I stung her in- to showing of her secret. It is now clear to me that Bohtwick got the papers; and he-I trust that he is in the sea, or iir - , it "ANCE FRAMPTON GOES OFF SUDDENLY. 445 matters not where, so he keeps away from this! Yet, she saw the rascal in that one glimpse at Moncrieff '! She has' the eye of a. hawk! She w;ould fight too! Sword or pistols, five paces even, and never wink an eye! She should have been a man! She would have been a famous one! As a woman she would never suit me. She might undertake to horsewhip me in my own household. Will she marry this mammoth Porgy? No, indeed! She has been too long fiee to seek or suffer another master, now! D--n him, unless she marries, she shall not save him! I will strip and beggar him, if there be law or lawyer in the land." Leaving him in this amiable determination, which underwent no modification with the progress of time, it is proper that we should glance at the affairs of other and subordinate parties in our true life-history. The appointed period had, arrived when Lance Frampton should be united -to Ellen Griffin. The wedding was to take place the very night of the day when Captain Porgy made his last visit, as briefy described, to Mrs. Eveleigh. When he re- turned home, not hiving remained to dine as usual with the widow, he found the Lieutenant already making his preparations. His wedding clothes were spread out; Pomp was brushing his boots; one of the negro girls was mending his suspenders; and the youth himself, busy about a dozen different things, was in such a state of nervous excitement that he really knew not what he was doing. Somewhat forgetting his own affairs, the Captain jested with him merrily, after his style of humour, upon the event which was approaching. Porgy, of course, had been invited to attend; so was Milliouse; Tom, the cook, without being asked, notified the young man that he would be present. "You's one ob de family, Mass Lance, an' I mus' see how you guine through de exaction. It's wuss to some people, dis get ting married, dan guine into de fight. Dey feels all ober wid a sawt ob cold sweat; and dey trimbles jest as ef dey was a-feelin' de push of de inimy's bagnets. Now, Mass Lance, le' me tell you 36 . al page: 446-447[View Page 446-447] wha' for do. Jes' before you hab for 'tan up before le Passon tek' a stiff pull at de Jamaica. He will help mek' you 'trong.-- Ef you skear, nebber le' Miss Ellen see you skear; for womans always will tak' de vantage of man wha' dey see is skear. Yor mus' 'tan up 'traight, hole up your head, and jes' you ieep t'ink- ing all de time, ef you no kill de inimy, he guine to kill you.- Da's it! and when you t'iik dat, you will shet your -eet' close, an' fling out wid all you 'stren'th as ef you yer de cr' all 'bout you, 'Ta'lton Quarters!' Ef you no feel 'trong dat time, when you tink you y'er dat cry, you loss de battle, and de woman will be you maussa for ebber arter, for t'ree t'ousan' yers, (years,) an' all de season's guine to be winter! Yerry wha' I say, and feel youse'f 'strong, 'fore de time for de fight come on." The Corporal contented himself withlsaying that, "Larriage is good for some people. 'Twould do for the Cappin, ef so be he got hold of the right pusson; but what sich a fellow as you, should git a wife for, thar's no seeing. You've got notiling, and she's got nothing, and two nothings put together, make a house- full of ixpenses, and not a shilling of profit. 'Twould'n- ha' done you eeny harm, Lance, ef you'd waited;tell you was borty-five, like the Cappin, and then died a bachelor, onlessyou cou d git the right sort of pusson,-one that had something to pu; to your nothing, my lad. But that's not. saying that Ellen ain't . mighty nice gal, Lance; she is, and a- purty, and I reckon it's th it mostly what has taken you. But to be purty ain't enough, aid, when you marries so soon, you don't give yourself hafe a chaikce." But these cold-water speeches did not discourage our Lieutehn- ant. They only served to increase his anxiety to have 'he affair over. An hour before sunset found the whole cavalcqde ready for departure and in the saddle, Porgy taking the lead, TLance and Millhouse riding together, just behind him, and Tom ard Pomp bringing up the rear. Pomp had his violin slung about lis neck. In his blue jacket, with red facings, his glazed cap, a id white "ANCE FRAMPTON GOES OFF SUDDENLY. 447 homespun breeches, Pomp felt that he had made a large stride in dignity since the pe iod of his rescue from the British hulks. We owe it to the Captain not to omit stating that he had sent off a cart a couple of hours before, with a demijohn of Jamaica, a gal- lon of wine, and some other small creature comforts, designed to help out the merry-making. He had also some presents for the bride in the shape of dresses and ornament, and a box and barrel, also conveyed by the cart, contained a pretty little contribution to the future housekeeping of the young couple. Millhouse saw these things put up to be sent, with no cordial feelings, though the subject was one upon which he dared not openly say a single word. But, in secret soliloquy, he deplored the Captain's profli- gacy. "They doesn't stand in need of all them things, and it's jest nothing better than waste. Waste breeds want; and Lawd knows how soon he'll be a-wanting every thing himself. Then what's the look out? It runs from him, when he's got it, jest like water from the mill, wher the dam's broke down in a fresh. Lawd! how he does want a strick master over him!" It was sunset when the party reached Mrs. Griffin's, and the company was already beginning to assemble. There were several young people of both sexes whom the Captain did not know, and one of the girls, all of whom had walked, had got a tub of water in front of the house and was coolly washing her feet. Fordham, the overseer, was already present, and it struck Porgy that he seemed very much at home. He was assisting Mrs. Griffin in spreading and arranging tables. The Captain thought he appeared offi- cious rather than polite, particularly as he saw him disposing the tippet upon the widow's shoulders, which had been disordered by her exertions. There was much good-humoured talk, and some mirth, in unde -tones between them, which put the overseer in a more obtrusive and less agreeable point of view than he had hitherto shown himself to Pbrgy's eyes. But the affair was one page: 448-449[View Page 448-449] "8 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. of a sort to render all parties free and easy, and Porg was per. suaded that the customs of the country, and the class, fwith whic he did not claim to be very familiar, might possibly justify ali these freedoms. He was the more readily disposed to thiuk thus when the widow Griffin, approaching him with the p'ofoundest deference, and full of smiles, entreated him to come end take a seat which she had placed and prepared entirely for h'm, where he could be at ease, in one of the best positions for witnessing the ceremony, and on a capacious cushion which she herself had made especially for .his use, and of which she entreated his acceptance. The Captain was easily persuaded. The seat was a goqd one.- The cushion gave him the notion of a new luxury. ESe forgot very soon all his misgivings, while she sate beside himl listeningw with the most deferential manner to all he had to say, and Ford- ham civilly contented himself with making merry with -'he young people in the poirch. Candles and torches were lighted. The Parson hac. arrived; the guests crowded into the hall, and pretty soon filled i;. A de- cent interval, and the Parson asked after the young ladry. And soon she appeared attended by one bridesmaid. Ellen -riffin cer- tainly looked very pretty in her simple white zmuslin fi'ock, with one bright flower stuck in her silken rinets, corntrastingnot more] with them than with the delicate paleness of he- cheeks. At her approach, Millhouse clapt Frampton on his shoulder, and murmur- ed pretty loudly in his ears- "No -Aon't be skear'd. Jest you think you'-e a-charging the inimy, and stand up stout forthe crossing of bag'nets. Don't you forgit the Cappin is a-looking on you." And the youth stood up, and his fingers rret and kwined in with those of the damsel, and the Parson confironted them, and the ceremony was befgun. Millhouse stood up in the resar of the Lieutenant. But the occasional push in the ribs, and whispers which he gave him, did not seem -to inspirit the youth, whose head con- I K O -j. "ANCE FRAMPTON GOES OFF SUDDENSLY. 449 tinned to hang do wn bashfully, until, in the midst of the ceremo- ny, the voice of the Corporal became audible-"' Heads up, and the Lawd be with you!"--to the consternation of the parson and half of the assembly. The youth was more prompt and decided in his demonstrations when he was instructed to salute the bride, which he did with a resounding smack that gave satisfactory tes- timony to the ears of the Corpoial, who exclaimed- "Well, that's doing it something like. Nobody kin say riowUk is'nt done!" The Parson followed the example of the bridegroom, and Capt. Porgy followed him. The Captain did not rest content until he bestowed a similar compliment, very suddenly, upon the widow : Griffin herself, who stood provokingly nigh to Ellen; but he was / confounded, a moment after, to find the overseer, Fordham, taking a similarly extempore liberty. "He's surely been tasting the Jamaica!" muttered Porgy, sotto voce; but Millhouse, who- overheard the speech, promptly re- joined-- "He's after the sperrit and the flesh, both! Lawd! I swow! ,but I should like to eat a leetle off the same plate! The widow looks like a mighty nice eatable!" Porgy turned away from the speaker as in some displeasure, and resumed his seat upon the cushioned chair. The ceremony was fairly over; it had not been a long one; and merry was the uproar that followed. The company adjourned to the piazza, to dance, leaving the hall mostly vacant, and to the free use of those ! who were to arrange the supper. Porgy had his chair wheeled out to the porch. In those days, the Parson, like any person of flesh and blood, waited for the frolic and the feast; and he and Porgy, while the fiddle of Pomp began to speak up, engaged in a warm controversy as to the merits of matrimony; both being upon the same side throughout, but differing. in the philoso- phies by which the subject was approached, The fiddle of Pomp 36$ page: 450-451[View Page 450-451] 450 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. called up many guests who had not been invited. 'T e negroe of a dozen plantations filled the yard in front, already practisin in "Juba" and "' double shuffle." Suddenly, Millhouse ]iscovere that the whole regiment of Glen-Eberley was among tae crowd. Here was a palpable infraction of the laws. Here was treachery and insubordination. The Corporal was in great commotion. "I won't stand it, Cappin, I'll be into 'em like a tro p of dra- goons. They must pack, every rascal among 'em, maa and wo- man, or hickories don't grow in this country." "Psho!" growled Tom, the cook, ' wha' for you mak e so muck bodderation, Mass Copp'ral, when der's no use? De nigger done he wuk (work,) he mus' hab he play! Enty you see dis dal wedding time, when ebb'ry body, wha' aint git marry iese'f, ki hb he fun?" "Tom's right ;" quoth Porgy, "let the negroes stay, .\illhouse, and enjoy themselves." "They won't be worth a copper for work to-morrow, Cappin.' "Then we must give them holiday. But that's all ; mistake. They will work better for a liitle play to-night." "Das a trute, maussa ;" said Tom. "De Copp'ral is too fool- ish preticklar. I don't t'ink he want nigger for sleep as much. Sleeping and dance is de t'ing for mek' nigger wuk li ;e a gem- pleman, and keep him from tief. When he dance, he lsweat out all he badness. Den he good, lub he maussa, an 'tan up to he wuk, like a sodger'g'in de inimy. I wonder, Mass Cppp'ral, ef you nebber 'lows youse'f any pleasure?" Do you ever see me at it, Tom? Do you ever see me danc- ing?" ' "Da's kaise you kain't. You got only. ore arm for swing, when you shakes you leg, an' you goes over de wrong Aide. But nigger wha' got he two arm, and he two leg,; im kin dlance an' feel he sperrit joyful! Look a' dem two boy, yonder, wha' dance Juba! Enty he do 'em great. Dem fellows is de most righteous "ANCE FRAMPTON GOES OFF SUDDENLY.- 451 young fellows, in Juba, I bin see, for t'ousand ye'rs! See how de leetle one shuffle he right leg, while t'udder one dey sleep. See how he's a-slapping he t'ighs (thighs) wid bot' he hand, jes' in time wid de fiddle, le' de fiddle jump about in what tune he please. And de fellow look, all de time, as ef he bin sleep; he eyes shut, and he face wid no more 'spression in 'em, dan a greasy punkin. And de udder fellow, wha' keep he eye so open bright, and look so keen 'pon de leetle fellow, see how he manage 'em! How he mek' um do jest de berry t'ing he want. Now he go quick, now he go slow, now he go quick and slow togedder, till de berrn bones seem a-guine to fall out ob he breeches. Ha! de t'ing is a most extonishing, won'ersome t'ing, Mass Copp'ral. Dem two boys is mak' for not'ng in dis worl' but to dance Juba." "Ef they were mine, Tom, I'd find out, at the eend of a hick- ory, ef they was'nt good for something besides Juba. I'd tickle 'em to another sort of music in the corn-field, I tell you." "Psho!" muttered Tom, turning away, and giving the benefit of his response to his master. "De Copp'ral is too cussed foolish! He don't comperhend nigger nater 't all! He's alwcays a-talking 'bout wuk, as ef der's no play in de worl'; and always a-talking 'bout hick'ries, as ef de airth was nebber mek' to raise any better t'ings! Da's always de way wid dem poor buckrah, wha's got' no nigger ob he own. He's always a-wanting towuk de niggers ob udder gempleman's tell he bones come out ob he skin. Hah! he hab leetle touch on he own shoulder, ebbry morning, from hard maussa, jes' for tek de stiffness out ob em, he hab better. comperhension ob nigger nater." This taste may suffice; white and black danced till midnight. The former in the piazza and hall, the latter in the open grounds beneath the trees. Solid was the supper that followed, and strong the drink; and wild enough the scampering, great the shouting, hard the riding, when each party took its way homewards, some where about the dawn. Lance Frampton's wedding was an event which is still remembered upon the Ashepoo! k ,1 page: 452-453[View Page 452-453] 452 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. CHAPTER LIV. SUMMARY OF THE EVENTS OF THE SUNIMER. THE summer was passing rapidly. Captain Porgy li ed pretty much after the old fashion. "He spent a day, occasionally, at Mrs. Eveleigh's; sometimes took his dinner at the widow- Griffin's, where Lance Frampton had taken up his abode with Lis young wife. The time passed without much excitement, anc with no absolute embarrassments. It was in the future that the clouds lowered threateningly, and the philosophy of Porgyr as not to look in their direction. Whenever thed subject of McKewn and his claims was forced upon him by the pertinacious Nill .ouse, he thundered and lightened for awhile, and finally thought upon the widow Eveleigh. She was his one particular bright star of pope, and one whom the policy of the Corporal forever sought to place before his sight, as far as he dared do so after the stern warnin gs which he had received. The Captain's own musings brough; up her image with sufficient frequency to hiseyes. He foundt himself perpetually arguing her virtues, her excellencies, her charms; all of which hie acknowledged freely to himself. put a sigh would usually close these meditations. There was still a something wanting to her perfections-he could not well say what; or a something in excess; which left him always unwilling to pursuei the subject to any definite result. It was through the rr edium of his own infirmity that he saw this deficiency, or excess, in tIe widow Eveleigh; and it was because he lookedthrough this medium only, that'he failed to determine in what it consisted We are better prepared to see, and to resolve it, than himse f. His: nfirmity was self-esteem; and the veneration of the widoe had been qual- ified aid moderated by a long intercourse with those higLer walks I . . : SUMMARY OF THE EVENTS OF THE SUMMER. 453 I of society in which Faith is not apt to flourish. Convention is very much the foe to hero worship. IWhen dissatisfied with his meditations in respect to the wi- dow Eveleigh, Porgy found, invariably, that his thoughts turned for relief in the direction of the simpler widow, Griffin. There was something so meek, and artless about this lady-something so ; little imposing and yet so grateful--that his mood became soothed while he contemplated her. . She rose before his mind's eye in an always graceful attitude, and with a most gracious aspect. He re- membered her slight form with pleasure, and contrasted it with that of the widow Eveleigh. The latter, in all such comparisons, appeared to him to be quite too masculine. The former seemed the very embodiment of feminine-perfection. His ideas of wo- man were those of a period when the sex had not yet determined to set up for itself; though wielding a most potent sway in socie- ty, and even in politics, particularly in Carolina. His models, ac- cordingly, required absolute dependence in the woman, though without meaning to abridge any of her claims as a woman, or to subjugate, unjustly, her individuality. He never dreamed of de- nying her any of her rights, when he required that she should re- cognize the lordship in the hands of the man. There was some- thing assured in the position and the endowments of--Mrs. Eveleigh, that startled his sense of authority. Her very virtues had a man- ly air which girded his pride; her very wealth, and its importance to his own case, seemed to humble him in his relations with her; and, when he admitted to himself, as he was forced to do, that this wealth was really a consideration in the case, the effect was to lessen the attractions of the lady, which were yet intrinsically very great in his eyes. Had she been poor, and were there no Mrs. Griffin in the field, we venture the opinion that Porgy would never have fancied any other woman. As the case stood, there were times when he decidedly gave her the preference, and fan- cied that his heart was absorbed wholly with her attractions;- * page: 454-455[View Page 454-455] 454 , THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF., when he believed that his affections demanded her sympathies and would be satisfied with nothing less; and, so feeling and thinking, he would resolve to ride over, after an early breakfastt or to an early breakfast, the next morning, and bring his cogita- tions to the final issue, and his doubts along w ith them. But a, sound night's rest, with, probably-, some faint, shadowy vision of the widow Griffin in his dreams, seemed to act A, a sudden sed*a- tive to his passion for the wealthier widow, and the purposle would dissipate into thin air, while his meditations would bee nt)e more dubious, yet more intense than ever. His admiration of, or attachment to, Mrs. Grifin, was not with. out its qualifications also. He could not fail to be disc'uieted as he reviewed her intellectual inferiority. In this respect, she was the weakest vessel in the world. She had no intelligent conver- sation; no education; no experience; no natur1 endowmnent; no mother wit; and, though her sweet temper, gentle beering, and implicit deference were all agreable to his self-esteem he could, not but ask himself whether something more was not reqlisite to the one' whom he should choose as a companion in life. jWhile the war lasted, and when the life of the camp renderel post of1 the desires sensual, he would nqt have vexed himself With any such inquiry. He then thought" only of the excellent ipanage- ment of the housekeeper; her skill in soups and stews: the culi. nary art which would convert a vegetable into a meat, a wing of chicken into a fish; and at such like magical and charming transmu- tation, viewed through this medium only, Mrs. Griffin was incom- parable. To a certain extent, Porgy still examined his object through these endowments. But his media of study ha become multiplied. Released from the camp, and its necessities,!ol tastes had been resumed; ancient refinements were recalled; .ong ban- 1 ished, or subdued tastes; had been once more lifting their heads; and his sensual nature had been gradually taking sonme golden, and amber hues and tints from the recovering vigour of I hs mind SUMMARY OF THE EVENTS OF THE SUMMER. 455 and fancy. Griffin, ws~, in certain respects, therefore, as difficult a case as Eveleigh ; and the Captain of Partisans, sitting, pipe in mouth, at Glen-Eberly, and looking alternately to the fair widows on either hand, might be likened to that sagacious animal (whose length of ears has been unkindly made his reproach) who sees, on each side of him, a goodly bundle of sweet, fresh hay which, drawing both ways with equal strength, will suffer him honestly to approach neither. The struggle, occasioned by this embarrassment of taste and need, was such as sometimes to affect the appetite of the Captain. Hie evidently grew thinner as the summer and his meditations grew together. There was no such amplitude of waist to be girded in, as formerly, when'he toiled, and travelled, and fought, daily and nightly, in the army. He now took in several more inches in his belt, and, not unfreiqently, the Corporal drew his attention, with great concern, to his dimin- ishing dimensions. t "It's the heat of this infernal summer," said Porgy. -" It's the want of a fondelsome wife, Cappin, as I've been a-tel- ing you all al-ong-a woman of substance, that'll help, you drive off that d---d sheriff, and put the idee that troubles you out of your head." "How the devil should I get the sheriff out of my head when you are constantly thrusting the monster in at my ears ?" This outbreak usually terminated such a discussion. Mean- while, McIKewn, like some great political spider, sate in the centre of his web of meshes, and waited for the moment when, in the exhausted state of the victim, he should fall an easy prey.' He was not altogether quiet, though seemingly so. The lawyers were at work.in the city. Documents, with great seals, were in preparation. Vile inventions, vulgarly de'nolinated Writs and declarations, were getting in readiness. Malice was keen in its work, alnd Law, with solemn brow and sable gown, was pliant-- ready to give the Demon all necessary help. Stately and serious page: 456-457[View Page 456-457] 456 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. letters had been brought to Porgy, from dignitaries yclept attor- nies at law. He to, had written solemn, serious, stately letters, to the same class of persons. These parties had benevilently ar- rayed themselves on both sides of the questior, in order, perhaps, that Justice, like any other fat body trying two stobls, should fall equally between; and Porgy, on the one Land, an i McKewn on the other, were looking to what wag termed, "The F'a1 Term," for results more serious than any fall of the leaves known to either. McKewn confidently calculated on having his claims, in cash and-character, equally satisfied; but he had momn n-s of mis- giving and apprehension, which were usually betray d by brief and expressive oaths, and adjurations, at the expense of persons of both the sexes. "That d d prying widow! If I only knew! That rascal- ly ruffian, Bostwick-were I sure that he is feeding thi sharks at the bottom of the sea!" Unfortunately, the sea refused thus far to give up its secrets, and the prying widow was quite as close as she was cu-nios. She seemed quite able to keep hers! The Scotchman got oaqthing by his curses. Whether, like chickens, they were destined to return home for roosting, is yet to be seen. In certain respects, the summer was auspicious to all ;he parties. McKewn's overseeir made him a good crop; Fordhf m did the same thing for the widow Eveleigh.; while Millhouse, as if Fate had studied to justify all his boasts, succeeded in beat ng both of them, in proportion to the force he managed. Never aad such a crop been seen at Glen-Eberley. The season had beer a very fa- vourable one, and Millhouse had shown indefatigable industry, and a very correct judgment; but he probably owed a good deal to the fact that the lands of Glen-Eberley had been so 1 )ng rested. Harvest time came on under good auspices, and the st e4ves were heavy with the golden grain. Great was the swangering of Cor- poral Millhouse, as, with his brother overseers, he reviewed the SUMMARY OF THE EVENTS OF THE SUMMER. 457 result. He had engaged in a friendly contest with Fordham and Blythewood, (the overseer of McKewn,) and they yielded the palm of victory to the Corporal, with good-humour, and literally "acknowledged the corn." Porgy was pleased, of course; and. Millhouse required him to acknowledge his satisfaction, and do justice to his particular genius, almost nightly. But, even the Cor- poral's pride and pleasure bore no sort of proportion to the same feelings in the bosoms of his negroes. They showed their triumph in greater degree than any other parties. It was their labour that had brought out the genius of Millhouse-it was their crop that had put to shame the negroes of the rival plantations. Por- gy gave them a great pork upper after the harvesting, while the bets of the Corporal, with his opponents, resulted in his obtaining one also, at their expense, in which-Jamaica occupied a place as distinguished as pork, and which kept busy the party of a dozen- the number present-through the hours of a goodly Saturday night; the dawn of Sunday looking in upon them at their feast, before they were quite satisfied to think it finished. The profits of Captain Porgy afforded no satisfaction to Mc- Kewn, except so far as they promised better spoils when'they should fall into his clutches. If he rejoiced in the result, it was with no benevolent feeling; but rather with the vindictive thought of the deeper disappointment and ,mortification of his victim, whom he should thus topple and overthrow from a greater height and hope, which this good fortune should encurage. He felt se- cure of his prey, unless in one event, and this he laboured in ,a secret way to defeat. This subject of his apprehension was the marriage of Porgy w'th the widow Eveleigh. He was quite aware of the frequent visits of the Captain to the widow, and he conjectured the object of these visits with much more certainty than Porgy could determine it. He, himself, would have had no objection to taking the widow to wife; but he had common sense enough to see that, with her present prejudices against him, the 7 page: 458-459[View Page 458-459] oOO THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. thing was impossible.. But he was a hopeful person, and did not despair, if time were allowed him, of removing these prejudices. At all events, it was his policy to prevent the success of the Cap. tain. To this he addressed himself in sun4rl ways, One of which, and the most likely to be successful, was through her son, Arthur. We have seen that his first approaches to -he young man had been unsuccessful. For a time they continued so; bu; persever. ance will remove mountains quite as certainly as faith; youth is flexible, indulgent and easily persuaded, whe-e much solicitude is shown to gain it; and gradually McKewn foun4 his way to the ears of Arthur. He contrived, without seeming ffort, to'meet the lad frequently, when he rode out-or rambled in the woods. He was always particularly deferential to him, and thus adroitly ap pealed to the vanities of youth. Gradually, the slight barriol. which the mother's prejudices had raised up in his nind, agaihst his neighbour, were broken down. Finally, McKewr persuaded him to accept a beautiful English pointer. The widow was great- ly chagrined that he did so, and Airthur himself was disposed to regret it, when he found his mother so much frett d; but lhe thing was done; and the result was, that the son, nftjr awhile, began to combat the prejudices of his mother againt the Scotch- man, and to declare that he always found him a marvellous pro- per man. The widow became a little angry, and the roung min a little insubordinate. Unfortunately, she co-ld not venture to convey all her suspicions to him, of McKewn's E gency w: t the oit- laws, and with the robbery of her negroes, so that all she could exhibit was her naked and, Seemingly, unreasoning hostiity, which Arthur was old enough to see lacked obvious jilsLificatioP. It was additionally unlucky that, recently, the cares and anxieties of Porgy had rendered him a somewhat cloudy compar ion for the young man, while thi marriage and withdrawal of Larce Frame. ton, had taken from-him one of the chief inducements -or his vis- its to Glen-Eberly. Under these circumstances, McKerLr enjoyed !, . i SUMMARY OP THE EVENTS OF THE SUMMER. 459 favourable opportunities which he never allowed to escape him.' Gradually, and when itr some rmeasure he had won the ears of the youth, he suffered himself to speak of the affairs of Porgy-of 'his recklessness of character, and his associates; his debts; and Vent so far as to indulge in some sneers at his mammoth dimen- sions, his amplitude of abdomen, and the enormous appetite in which he was supposed to indulge. When he found, after awhile, ,that these jests and sneers provoked the young man's smiles, he felt encouraged. His next labour-a more delicate one, but which he pursued with as much art as diligence-was to convey to the youth a notion of what he supposed to be the object of Por- gy in his visits to his mother. He insinuated the idea, so formida- ble to a young man of self-esteem, of a despotic father-in-law; then hinted at the waste of property to supply the appetite, or repair the ruined fortunes of a profligate; and then, in immediate sequence, he would turr to Porgy and make a ludicrous portrait of his unwieldy figure. The youth was slow to receive the revela- tion so gradually made; but, at length, it unfolded itself fully be- fore the eyes of his mind, and, then, a great many things, hither- to strange in his past experience, became clear to his understand- ing. He could now comprehend the impudent language and manner of Corporal Millhouse, when the party dined with his mother, already described, and which then provoked his wonder. As a matter of course, his indignation was, aroused, and the chief force of it fell upon the Captain. But the suggestions of McKewn, as they were designed, led him farther-led him to think some- what harshy of his mother, and suspiciously of her motives in aiding the Captain. That she should sympathize with Porgy, en- courage his visits, aid him with loans of money, receive him with. so much welcome, show herself so solicitous of his comforts, were all ascribed to her own secret attachment to the man, and-argued the probability that she would finally lift, him into the lordship of the household; an'idea which Arthur Eveleigh found quite insup- A P page: 460-461[View Page 460-461] 4.0 ' THE SWORD \AND THE DISTAFF. portable. The moment that this apprehension was forced u4on him, he-hurried home full of aroused feeli gs whic: Ihe neither could, nor desired to, suppress. This happened at moment of some importance. He found Captain Porey clodeed with his mother, and evidently discussing some matter which seemed of mu. X tual interest. Perhaps it may be well to- account fo- the present interview. As we have shown, the time was ripening fast for the consum- mation of McKewn's legal projects, for the ruin of his debtor. The summer had past: the fatal "Fall Term" hid come; the courts were in session; and at lngth there were decrees, anc judgments. + Porgy was advised by his lawyers that danger was at hand; And that he might soon reasonably look to see hawks ab'oad. He had been warned also that his case could not be helped, that judge ment could not long be averted. He, accordingly, prepared him. self;, as well as he could, to fold his robes about him and die with decency. There were some preliminary performances which he felt to be absolutely necessary to his peace ot mind. In order to attend -to one of these, he summoned Tom to his presence. "Tom," said he, "put on your best clothes. I wan:, you to ride over with me to Mrs. Eveleigh." Tom was soon becomingly equipped. The master and man were soon mounted; and, on the way, the Captain opened the bu- siness upon which he was bent, to his favourite cuisin ur. "Tom." "Sah!" - "You are still a tolerably young fellow." 'Ha! maussa, enty I bin. know dat." "YoU have no wife, but you will be thinking of one some of these days." - "awd ha' -massy; we does we bes', but who kin tell wha' guine happen to 'em next 'day and to-morrow a. "True, Tom Who knows! You will get a Wife, you will proba- SUMMARY OF THE EVENTS lO0 THE SUMMER. A46l bly lhave a family, ard you might be happy for a great many years, if your life were spared so long." "Da's true, maussa." "I don't wish to shorten your life, Tom-" "Wha', maussa!" "I wish to see you live as long as God will let you--" "To be sure; t'ank you, maussa!" "'But, Tom, if I anm to see you live as the slave of that scoun- drel, McKewn, I should rather you were dead. Now, Tom, I must either sell you to Mrs. Eveleigh, or shoot you." "Shoot me, Tom! Oh! git out, maussa, da's all only you' ole foolish talk. Tom ain't for shoot." "Then I must sell you, Tom, or McKewn will have you." "Ha! I tek' de swamp fuss! I nebber guine lib wid dat crook-eye Scotchman." "Better live with Mc-s. Eveleigh." "I no so much lub for lib wid woman, noder, maussa. Wo- man, maussa, is a-most too hard Upon nigger. Wha' for I must [be] sell?" "I owe McKewn money--the sheriff will seize you if you be- long to me. I wish'Mrs. Eveleigh to buy you, to keep you out of his clutches; and if I Lm, ever able to buy you back from her, I will do so. Meanwhile, I will hire you from Mrs. Eveleigh." Such was Porgy's scheme, by which to save his favourite. Tom, for a long time, failed to see the merits of it; but, silenced, at length, if not satisfied, de followed his master, with -a very gloomy aspect, to the -residence and the presence of the widow. There, our Captain of Partisars made a frank showing of his fears, -his wishes--Tom being in -,he prisence all the while. "Pinckney writes that-nothing can be done to avert this judg- ment-that it must take effect-that the lien upon the lands is perfect--that judgment upon the unliquidated accounts, once entered, will bind all tfe slave property and moveables, subject 37* page: 462-463[View Page 462-463] "2 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. only to your mortgage, and that that mortgage will rot prevent the sale. Tom, Mrs. Eveleigh, is the only ore of my negroes not covered by your mortgage. I hesitated to forego my entire con- trol over his destinies, as it was my purpose always that Tom should never be the slave of any man but myself. I should free him this hour, if this, were possible; but Pinckney writes that such grant of freedom would not avail against. existing debts and creditors. But I may make a bond fide sa'e of him, Mrs. Eve- leigh; and I propose to do so to you. You will give me a hun- dred guineas for him, with the understanding between us that I am to hire him from you at fair wages, and that you ill sell him back to me, on the same terms, whenever I shall feel ble to re purchase him. Should I never do this, my deal ma1am, I shall still feel some consolation that I have kept my vow-to sell him to no other man-and, in selling him to a woman, I sell him to one whom I esteem the very first among her sex." Here Tom put in. I "You buy me, Miss Eb'leigh, I good sarbrnt to ye i You's a lady. Yer wha' maussa say. He's berry much trouble dese times, and don't know wha' for do! You kin help 'em. Help 'em, an' I berry much 'blige to you, ma'am. Ef you buy me, I promise you I guine tek' care ob you, same as I tek' care o imaussa.- When Tom say he guine be good sarbatt, you kin dq no better dan to buy em." "I believe you, Tom," said the lady, kinly, "andI I think I may safely promise you to be an indulgent mistress. IYou may go home now, Tom, and-consider yourself as belonging to me. I shall arrange all with your master." "T'ank you, missis, and de Lord pour down he bessing 'pon you 'tell you beg 'em for stop, you own se'f. God bress you, :missis, an' a berry good mornin' to you." "Thank you, Tom. Good-bye to ye." And with a grasp of the hand: of his late master, anc a bow to THE WIDOW AND HER SON. 463 his new mistress, Tom disappeared, and proceeded to canter back to Glen-Eberly. Porgy had prepared and brought with him the necessary bill of sale. He had signed it in the presence of Lance Frampton, the night before. Tie widow asked if he did not'desire any writ- ten engagement, from her, to resell the negro to him, according to their private unde:standing; but, with his usual indifference to his own securities, the Captain declined it. The lady gave him an order upon the city for a hundred guineas, and received, and put away, the Bill of Sale. The wages of Tom, while he remain- ed in the service of Lis former owner were then easily adjusted; and the parties were still engaged in conversation, the Cap- tain very low in spirits, and the lady, with a judicious delicacy, striving to soothe and conciliate him, when Arthur Eveleigh bounced into the room. CHAPTER LV. TEE WIDOW AND HER SON. A SINGLE glance a, the young man sufficed to show that he was greatly out of humour. He spoke with bare civility, and no cordiality, to his ancient friend, the Captain. The widow regard- ed her son with anxious and reproachful eyes, which he retorted with such looks of evident suspicion and bad feeling as to. con- found and disquiet he:. Porgy saw that something was wrong, but had no notion that he was a party to the provocation. He 'spoke to Arthur in the old language of familiarity and affection, but without perceiving any very grateful effect from it. The young page: 464-465[View Page 464-465] ,46.4 THE .SWORD AND THE 'DISTF. :man had come in with his fowling piece and birding Equipments, which suggested to Porgy the proper subject for talkiri, with him, ( Why do you not look for your birds at Gl n-Eberlqy, Arthur? It is a full month since you have paid me a vjsit. The partridges are in abundance. You can scarcely walk iany where without flushing them." ':I need not go off the place here, sir, to seek for berds; when I do, I find them in as-much abundance, at M-. McKewn's, as I desire." , X "McKewn!" said Porgy, and was silent. , "I wish, my son," remarked the lady, "that you would seek your birds in any-other quarter." "And I don't see why, mother. Mr. McKelwn is very civil to "' There are some civilities which I am half inclined to regard as injuries!" said the lady gravely, '" but it should be enough for you, my son, that I have expressed my wishes. My objeCltios to this man-" l "Unless there be good reasons for them, mother-"I "Of the goodness of my reasons, my son, you should allow me i'to be the judge, without requiring me to show what th y, are. It ought to be sufficient for you that I have expressed my :ishes--" "Your wishes! Ah! but have you expressed them i"1 was the pert response, and something of 'a sneer upon his lips. "-I do not-understand you, Arthur. You certainly hive heard from me the repeated wish that you should have as little commu- nion .with this man, as was not absolutely unavoidable. ".And:I dor't see why, mother. Mr. McKewn seers quite as much of the gentleman as most men I've seen," replied lhe youth petulantly, and looking at Porgy. "You have been unfortunate,. my son; or, which is mr re likely, you .are scarcely yet a-sufficient judge of the subject, or a suffi- cient discriminator of persons." ji THE WIDOW AND HER- SON. 465 "Perhaps not," said the fiery youth, his face reddening; "but mother--!" Ilere he paused abruptly and with evident effort restrained him- self. Polgy at this moment rose.- His manner was mild, calm, and dignified; a little touched with sorrow. He'felt that he was in at the beginning o-' something like a scene, and he had no taste for it, or curiosity to witness its close. "Mrs. Eveleigh, suffer me once more to thank you- for your kindness. I shall remember with gratitude what you have done for me, I will trespass no longer. Good-bye, ma'am--good- bye ;" and he shook her hand warmly. "Arthur, I am half tempt- ed to regret that you can find your birds at any other point than Glen-Eberley. We can afford you friends there as well as birds; and such friends as will never desert you when the battle's'coming on." To this the youth 'ad no answer. He gave his hand sullenly to the Captain, who looked at him kindly and curiously, but with a smile that seemed tO say, "I understand all your difficulty, my boy," but, beyond his farewell, he had no more words to say. The widov would have persuaded him to stay to dinner, but, glancing significantly from her to her son, he declined the invitation. He didinstinctively understand the case of Arthur Eveleigh. Riding out of the avenue, Le muttered to himself--" the foolish boy ; that scoundrel, McKewn, hasg been poisoning his ears. I should not be surprised if the rascal has been telling him that I was: courting his mother." He meditated sadly as he rode. "What a pitfall, what a thing of snares, of serpents, and sorrows, is this miserable life.- How the devil hangs upon the, footsteps of inno- cence, turn whither it will, ready,to delude, to -defraud, to degrade, to destroy. Here is tais youth, just as he begins to drink of the better and purer sweets of life, the fiend drops his malignant pIoi- son into the bowl; embittering the taste as well as the draught- and shaping the whole future career for sin and sorrow. I had page: 466-467[View Page 466-467] "6 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. I i taken a great liking to that boy. He could have made a noble fellow. But, he looks upon me as an enemy. He" looks upon his owns mother with suspicion. It has needed but a mean cunning ot the part of this miserable wretch, McKewn, to male him turn upon his natural and best allies. Heaven help us, fo' with the devil at our elbow, with foes among those who surround us, and the vices and vanities at our own hearts to help their Bbours, un- less Heaven help us in season, and with all its angels, hope and hu- manity stand but a poor chance for happiness." The subject offered a fruitful matter for reflection, after he got home, which a draught of Jamaica with, the Corporal, and a long dissertation Ifrom that person, de omnibus rebus, c&c., failed whollyto arrest o : dissipate. We must leave him to its indulgence while we return to the wid-e ow's, curious to see that issue between herself and son, which Por- gy preferred to escape. She was not slow to approacl- the sub- ject. ' "My son,:you have behaved very strangely, very coldly, almost rudely, to Captain Porgy. May I know what he has do e to occa- sion this treatment?" "I don't see that he deserves any other," was the dogged re- ply. "Indeed, Arthur, this is a very singular change ..of fee2ling and opinion. A month or two ago, you were so perpetuallj over at Glen-Eberley, that I feared you might wear lput the welcome you received; now-" "I went- then to hunt with Lieutenant Frampton," "But you also hunted with the Captain, and your report was always singularly favourable in respect to him. : You have evi- de-ntly nothing kind or cordial in your feelings towards him, now; and, as I trust you will never allow yourself to be guilty of any mean, evasion of the truth, I hope that you will firankly inform me as to what has caused that change in your conduct, which is suffi" ciently apparent to him as well as to me." II THE WIDOW AND HER SON. 467 "But I want to know, mother, why it is that you are so anxious that I should be on good terms with this Captain Porgy." ' "I am anxious that.. you should be just and honourable, my son-; not mean, or captious ; not capricious and unprincipled." "I don't see how I should be either, only because I do not like him." "Unless you have a good reason to justify your dislike, you must be all of these, Arthur. We owe Captain Porgy a great and vital service--" i "We owe just as much to Lieutenant Frampton, and the one- fisted Corporal, mother." "That may be, but that does'nt lessen our obligations to him." "At least, they do not presume upon their services." "I am yet to know that he does." . "What does he come here so fiequently for, then?" "I suppose he finds some pleasure in doing so." a Ah! and you find pleasure in it, too, mother?" There was an increasing colour in the widow's cheeks, as she met the gaze and heard the significant inquiry of the forward boy, but she answered him very quietly-- "Certainly; I find Captain Porgy a very pleasant associate. I know few gentlemen whose conversation is so sensible and inter- I esting." a "i Gentleman! he looks very much like a gentleman with that great paunch of his, large as a rice barrel." "Stop, Arthur; I must not suffer this sort of language in my hearing., You forget yourself, my son; you forget what is due to me, and to this worthy, but unfortunate: man. I shall say no more of what we owe him for saving your mother from indignity, and possibly from dea-h," since you do not seem sufficiently to comprehend the extent r value of this service. It is enough that I require you to forbear such rude language of one whom I am pleased to honour as m-r friend and neighbour." "Is he, going to be content, mother, with being friend and page: 468-469[View Page 468-469] "8 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. neighbour? Does he aim at nothing farther? Is he not borrow. ing all your money to pay for his extravagances? Is he not--" "Stop, once mlre, my son! Am I to understand, Arthur, tiat you suppose yourself likely to lose,the money which I lend to Captain Porgy?" "I don't see what else will follow, living as he doeS, and having to pay off his old debts." "You have been listening to an enemy, Arthur. But let me disabuse you. It is not possible that you or I shall lose any thing by the loans made to Captain Porgy. These are all sufficiently secured by mortgage; the papers drawn up by Colonel Pinckney, who assures me that the debt is perfectly secure. BWe get legal interest on the money, and, so far, Captain Porgy is, perhaps, less under obligations to me than I am to him. If your auise of dis- quiet contemnplates nothing beyond this, you may reasonably dis- miss it from your mind; but there is something fartier, Arthur, The evil spirit who has found his way to your ear, has never been content with so meagre a scheme of doing mischief. Let me hear all that disturbs you. my son,; keep nothing back; I Would rather you should pain me directly to the core, than leave ie to appre. hend that you entertain thoughts and feelings in secret, wnich you dafe not unfold to your mother." The youth seemed for a moment uneasy. He strode hurriedly off to a window, and seemed to look out. The widow calmly awaited him, without seeming to observe his motionS. After a pause, he wheeled about suddenly, approached her; and, as if he had brought himself to the proper point of determination, he said "I ask you, mother, if you think that Captain Porgy comes here only when he wants company or money? I want you to tell me if you think he has not some other purpose? Speak candid- ly, mother, as you ought to speak to me, and as I have a right to expect that you will speak." ' . THE WIDOW AND HER SON, 469 The mother almost sternly surveyed the youth; then, with rigid lips, she answered- "We may think differently, Arthur, about our mutual lights. I certainly ought not to be required to account for the secret mo- tives of action of Capt. Porgy or of any other man. Your chal- lenge of my candour, unless you have some imputation upon it, is only a gratuitous offerce, my son. At your age and mine, there may be cases when it would not be proper to unfold to you all my thoughts or opinions. Where these contemplate the charac- ter or motives of other persons, I should be wrong in doing so. If you have any particular question to put to me, Arthur Eve- leigh, which would seem to be the case from what you do say, let me hear it, and if it is proper for me to answer, and if my son has a right to make the ques;ion, let him be assured that I shall answer with the utmost readiness." The youth hastily st:ode the chamber. He was evidently re- luctant, half-ashamed, to betray the lurking suspicions in his mind.. But, at length, as if vexed at his own weakness, he paused, stood erect, and pointing to a splendid, full length of Major Eveleigh, which hung against the wall-a noble figure, in the prime of man- hood, and garbed in the rich military costume of Britain,-he cried out with a burst of passion- "That is my father, mother, as he looked, as he lived. Can it be possible that you mean to fill his place with such a person as this Captain Porgy 8" And the boy loBked noble, erect, manly, almost magnificent, like his father, as he uttered the passionate inquiry. Had there been sufficient cause for his question,-had the widow shown her- self weak, frivolous, wanton, easily accessible, and inclining to fling herself away upon a worthless person-there would have been something wery admirable in his bearing and position. The moth- er looked at him a moment, her 'face pale with indignation, and 38 ' ' * i I page: 470-471[View Page 470-471] 4'O THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. the tears gushed; all at once, in a flood from her eyes. Through them she spoke, with impetuous anger. " Arthur Eveleigh, you have been listening to that devil of mischief, McKewn. You have suffered this vile Scotchman to fill your ears with venomous discourse. You have meanly permitted him to whisper to you a scandal of your own mother. You have basely suffered him to fill your heart with evil thoughts of one to whom your mother owes her life and honour. And you have suffered this wittingly. You were warned against this evil-mind. ed wretch. You were taught to regard him as an object of sus. picion and dislike. You have preferred his counsels to those of your mother-to those of your friend. You havebeen used by him as a despicable tool against friend and mother. Leave me for the present, Arthur Eveleigh. I can neither speak'to you, nor look on you, with a proper calm of temper. Leave me." "But mother-" The young man was aghast. He had never seen his mother so fearfully aroused-had never so aroused her himself,--and now began to'feel that he had unwisely and unbecomingly trespassed. "Yet stay," she said, and hear farther, Arthur Eveleigh.- While I acknowledge my responsibilities to you, as your mother, and the representative of your father, I still hold an independent relation to you in all matters which concern myself. On these, I -will submit to no dictation. I shall be the mistress of my own thoughts, feelings, and sympathies, as far as it lies in my power to be so. I shall-account to you in no respect, unless I am pleased and prefer to do so. While I shall never feel the relations between your late father and myself to be other than sacred and very pe- cious, if it should seem to me wise, and right, and: grateful to take another husband; it shall be my own will that I shall consult in the matter. It may be that your own conduct shallcompel mel to this, where I would not choose. I must have affections and *" ' \ o. THE WIDOW AND HER SON. 471 sympathies-I must 'ave devotion and society-I must love, Ar- thur, and must be beloled-at all events, I must be confided' in. If ny own son abandons me for the stranger-if he prefers the counsel of the serpent against which I have warned him, and of- fends me with the rude insolence of his suspicions, I must seek succour elsewhere. You have heard me. It-ls for you to deter- mine. Go now; yet hear me: go not to this man, McKewn. I tell you, Arthur Eve eigh, that you must make your choice be- tween this evil genius and your mother. I must cease to trust you, if I find you put any trust in him." "Mother, dear mother!" He rushed, with a cry, and threw his arms around her. "Forgive me, 'dear mother, forgive me!" He clung to her, sobbing his regrets and repentance aloud.- She folded him fondly to her arms. "Oh! Arthur, you know not how rude a blow you have struck my heart." Just they, the little Dory came in, and with looks of equal ter- ror and syn' athy, darted to them both. The. widow laid one hand upon the head o. the child, kissed her son, and freeing her- self from his grasp, hurried out of the chamber. "Oh! Arthur, what is the matter?"' "Only I have been very foolish, Dory, and have made my mother vexed." "But you are sorry, Arthur ". "Very sorry, very." "Then God will forgive you, Arthur." "Ah! if I could only forgive myself, Dory." l "But you will, Arthur, for my sake." Foryour sake, Dory --well, for your sake, I will try,-but I have been very, very foolish. I have made my mother very an- gry." "She will f:Ive you, Arthur. Go to her now, and beg her." page: 472-473[View Page 472-473] "Not now."^ "Oh! yes, now! I want her to forgive you before I go. I amn going home this evening, you know. Mother wants me." "What can she want you for? You are better here, Dory. I can't do without you, you know. You must stay with me." "No, Arthur, -I mzst go and work for mother." "Work! Well, I will go hone with you and help you. I'd rather go away for a week, Dory; I'm so ashamed to meet my mother!" - CHAPTER. LVI. THE SHERIFF IN LIMBO, EVENTS continued to ripen fast. Porgy's visagegrew gloomier with their progress, and a stern expression settled upon his fea- tures. He smoked and drank morel freely than ever. His con- versation grew more and more brief daily. He heard the Corpo- ral without heed, and seldom responded, except by a brief sarcasm, to his prolix exhortations. He was apprised from the city that his danger could not be, any longer averted; that there was no longer any barrier between him and the sheriff. Col. Pinckney ' wrote him an affectionate letter, full of sympathy, but cutting him ; off from all other farther hope of escape.- - Pinckney did not stop at this. He sought the sheriff, who was a well-known army man, t of good nature, something of a humourist, indeed, and with quite a friendly regard for Porgy, whom he had met more than once t during the war, and whom he very well knew. The-object of E much/indulgence as possible. To "do his spiriing gently." To a ** -- - ' -. -- - .a ITHE SHERIFF IN LIMBO. 473 this the latter was ntturally inclined, -But, on the- other hand, there was the impati, nt creditor hMcKewn, urging the rapid exe- cution of the ploceedings. The law! The law! I claimed the benefit of the lavr in its utmost rigour, and waited, with in- tense appetite for th news of the execution of his processes, the sale of the lands of 1orgy, and the seizure of the negroes. Pinck- ney wrote the Captain all these particulars. He had tried the in- Eberley armed to the teeth, with rifle on his shoulder, sabre at his side, pistolslin hol ter, just as he had gone through the wars. The requisition of the Corporal had been to this effect. He had expressly enjoed the Lieutenant to come in war fashion. He met him at the entrarce, a srmed in like manner, though not on horseback; and, with an ominous shaking of the head and the mand, m answer to Framptons inquiries, he said- "The inimy is in r otion, Lieutenant; we've got to stand an Issault, maybe a siege and I know'd you wain't aguine to stand y and set he th e appin bombarded and inwaded, without being eady to jlne at the fist sound of the trumpet. You'll see the appin's mightily chalged in the last week. He's more down in he mouth than I ever seed him. He kain't talk, and when a an kain't talk, that's een so used to it, it's about the worst sign his sarcumstanes. But, don't you say nothing of what you es Jestyou listen t me, andL when I pushes on one p'int, be ady to follow up the push. We must purtect the property m the inimy. Ef they gits the place,-thar's not much use for e niggers, arid ef the. gits the niggers, that's not much use for e place. The two st nds together pretty much- lile gun and ynpowder . W lhat's te use of the gunpowder if thars no gun, d what's the us the the sgun if thar's -no powder Yon sees I pusheg 01, one, -Int, be page: 474-475[View Page 474-475] 474 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. Now, we must purtect the niggers and plantation against siege and storm. That's the first needcessity; the next is to open the Cappin's eyes to the needcessity of marrying the widow. His sar- cumstances ain't to be put off any longer. We must, both on us, argufy him into the sense of this needeessity." Having, as he thought, suficiently given the Lieutenant his cue, the latter was allowed to enter the dwelling, and to see his old commander. He found Porgy sombre enough, but glad to see him. He put on a cheerful countenance when he beheld the youth, gave him his hand, and, for a little while, seemed to recover his spirits. But Frampton remarked that, though he entered the room, armed cap-a-pie, the Captain never seemed to observe it; and that, even while he spoke to him of famriliar things, and with a smile upon his face, his mind yet seemed to wander. After a while, he lapsed into moody silence, never once taking the pipe from his mouth in the course of half an hour, even though its fires had gone out. The Lieutenant took his place in the house- hold quietly, as if he had never left it. He had his bed there that night. After supper, Tom being warned to be in attendance as an auxiliary, the Corporal opened by degrees upon the subject of embarrassment before them. "Ef you has no dejection, Cappin, I wish you'd read to the Lieutenant that 'ere letter of Col. Pinckney." "Oh! to be sure. You've not heard, Lance, that the Philis- tines are about to descend upon us. Writs are out, and execu- tions, levies, and arrests, Ca Sa's and Fi Fa's, and I suppose ne ex- eats, and whatever other diabolical inventions of the law can be brought to bear upon a man whom the devil has determined to destroy. I told you of my fears before we got home. Iwas then better prepared for the disaster than I am now. The respite I have had, the restoration of my negroes, and the help in money afforded me by Mrs. Eveleigh, hive helped to spoil me for vicissi- tudes; and, in getting a new taste of my old mode of life, I am , i THE SHERIFF IN LIMBO. much more reluctant than ever to give it up. But the thing seems inevitable now. This letter of Colonel Pinckney, which I will read to you, will show you how the land lies, and from what quarter, and in what force, the enemy will probably make his ap- proaches." And he read the letter. "The case, you see, is hopeless. The wolves will have their victim. Nothing can be done." "Well, Cappin, I doesn't edzactly see that. Here's Lance, and me both, and Tom, all ready to have a fight on it, and beat off the inimy, ef they don't come on us too many at once. We three, and you, Cappin-" "Pooh, pooh, Corporal! That's all nonsense. There's no fight- ing to be done in tLe matter, and no flying, that I can see. All that is left to me now, or is likely to be left to me, is my philoso- phy, and that of my little -Frenchman. I am trying to school myself to the trial with the best grace in the world, though, by the powers, if a good fight would help the matter, I'd be pretty quick to man the fortress; but that's out of the question. The notion of the Corporal is simply absurd. The case, look which- ever way you please, is absolutely hopeless." "You're clean wrong; jest bekaise you refuses to look the right way. Now, I've been seeing, a mighty long while past, that thar' was a way of saving all, and blocking the game on the inimy, and that, you see, was jes' by coming down upon the widow Ev'leigh, and storming ier primises. I show'd you, long ago, how a widow was a sort of post wkich had been afore taken by the inimy, and so was to be taken ag'in; and where the storming was conducted by a good off'cer, from the line of the army, that the thing mout be done easily. This widow Ev'leigh, now-" "Hush up, Corporal. No more of that. It must not be thought of. How will it look for me-I who have been borrowing the I ' page: 476-477[View Page 476-477] 476 THE- SWORD AND THE DISTAFF, widow's money-to propose to pay my debts to her, by nmaking her my wife?" "And the most ixcellentest way for settling a debt that ever was invented on this airth.'" "Why, man, I've gone to her as a beggar. I owe her six hun. dred guineas. Shall I go to her and offer her payment in a bank- rupt husband ." "But ef she likes you, Cappin, won't she jump at it." -"Ah! but that is all very doubtful." "A man what's doubtful, I may say, is a'most d----d a'ready. Thar' must not' be no doubt when you're a-guine .to storm a fortress. Now, I see that this here widow is a'most ready to sur- render at the first blow of the bugle. I knows it, Cappin ; I sees it in every thing she does for you, and in every look she gives you; and the best thing you kin do is jest to make a trial of the sarcumstances--of, the case." Porgy shook his head. , "Now, don't you be a-shaking of your head as ef thar' was nothing in it. But jest you hear what I'm guine to ax you.- S'pose; now, the thing is jest as I'm a-saying 'it. S'pose she's ready to give in the moment you are ready to make the attack? Won't you be a most bloody -fool-pardon me, Cappin; I doesn't mean to be onrespectful-but I ax, won't you be a bloody fool, not to give her a chaince to surrender handsome, and save her feelin's, and save this fine property, and save your niggers, only bekaise you ate so mealy-mouthed. Won't you feel most mean and vicious, and onhappy, ef so be you keeps hanging off, and she has to come and pop the question to you? I declar', Cappin, it seems a mosi'pitiful and cruel thing for you not to help her out a leetle, by jest-axing her in time to save her feelin's." "H a! ha! h! Delightful! . 'Pon my soul, Corporal, you put 'the case in quite anew and striking -point of view. You think I / I THE SHERIFF IN LIMBO. 47' , i . should speak in time to prevent the widow from addressing me, and so spare her blushes." "In course, I does! That's jest the thing-spar' her blushes!" "But, suppose she were to propose to me, and I were to-re- fuse her?"' I "Lawd love you, iCappin, and be marciful to your onderstand- ing; cut you would'nt be so onkind and outright redickilous; as to do that-and after all that's she'sbeen a-doing for you." "It would be rather hard-hearted, I confess." "'Twould be most monstrous ridickilous! But, Cappin, you musn'; wait for her to do the axing, It mout-be she'd come arter awhile, and when she couldn't stan' keepin' in her feelin's any longer;, but then it mout-be-it would be-too late, then; to help your sarcumstances. I Ef the property was to be sold by the she- riff, what would it bring, I want to know, now, when thar's so lit- tle money guine a bout. Not enough, by half, to pay this war- mint, McKewn. But, ef 'twas only on account of the lady, it's your business to speak quick. The man has no right to keep the- poor woman a-waiting on him. He has no right to keep a-thinking, with pipe in hIs mouth, while she's a weeping and pining away a-most to nothill'." . "But I don't see that Mrs. Eveleigh shows any such signs of suffering, Corporal." "It's all innard, Cappin. She's got too proud a stomach, to show outside, in her flesh and sperrits, how much she suffers in- nardly. Many's the womnan that's looked fat and hearty, while her heart's been a-breaking in her buzzum. I don't mean to say that the widow Ev'leigh is so far gone, Cappin, 'kaise, you see, she's had ixpei'ence in heart affairs, being a widow; but she's got her feelin's and sufferin's, Cappin, in the heart, that keeps it-sore and bleedin' all over, though it's too strong to break. She ought'nt to hev' any su'Terin's and bleedin's at all, ef so be you kin help her; and I say, and I'm sure on it, that you kin, help her, page: 478-479[View Page 478-479] 478 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. jes' by the same thing that help's you'self. I'll leave it to the Lieutenant here, and to Tom, ef they don't 'gree with 'me, that the widow Ev'leigh has a nateral right to marry you, considerin' your sarcumstances." Tom nodded his head affirmatively. "You hab for marry 'em, maussa. He bin too much, good to you, maussa, You can't 'scuse 'em-you can't 'fuse (refuse) 'em. You hab for do it, den we all t'ree b'long to one anudder, maus- sa. Frampton was of opinion that the proceeding would certainly relieve the Captain of all his present difficulties, and was for this reason quite advisable. "That'si it, Cappin! considerin' the sarcumstances-! It's the sarcumstances you've got to consider;, and I say it again, consid- erin' them, and the sarcumstances of the widow, she's got a nate- ral right to marry you." "-But have I any natural right to marry her?" "In course! Ef she's got a right too you, thar's no help for it, and you must jine your right to her'n. You've gut no right to refuse to hev' her, seein' it's her needcessity to hev' youz; and the true way for an honest man, and a gentleman, and a good sodger, is to put it to her manful, at'once, and not keep heria-waiting, and a longing and a sorrowin', till the poor woman gits sick from her needcessity." Really, Corporal, you make a new case of it. You are mak- ing it clearly a duty and a charity that I should marry a lady of fortune, and so save myself from the sheriff."' "That's the how! That's the very thing." Now, Corporal, if I could only be sure that the excellent lady whom you so, freely discuss, laboured under any such feelings as you describe-" "Ax Lance-ax Tom!" responded the Corporal, appealing to each of them in turn. THE SHERIFF IN LIMBO. 4'79 Lance certainly had seen the very favourable glances which the widow had cast upon tie Captain. ( Sheep's eyes, they calls 'em, Cappin," quoth the Corporal. Tom gave his opinion with solemnity and confidence. "Miss Eb'leIgh hab eyes, enty, for see, maussa? Well, who dat say maussa ain't man 'iough for please any woman? Da's it! I see 'em how he look at maussa. He fire up, he mouth 'tan' open and sweet, and when lhe talk to 'em, it's jest like any bud (bird) dah sing to 'nudder bud, and axing 'em wha' for we kain't buil' nest togedder dis spring?" "Well," said ;he more literal Coiporal, " 'twould be all mighty great nonsense to talk of building nests in spring, when here we are jest on the edge, as I may say, of winter But what Tom says would be quite right, ef he'd make the nest buildin' together about Christmas. 1 like a marriage, Christmas time, better than any other; and ef the Cappin does the right thing, like a man, we'll have a raal blow-out this coming Christmas. You've hairn, Cappin. Me, and the Lieutenant, and Tom, all agrees that the widow looks on you with mighty sweet eyes; and I say she's got a nateral right to you, Cnd you've got a nateral right to her; and you must jine your rights, and give us a blow-out ttis Christmas; and ef the sheriff, or McKewn, or any other wrmint, comes shark- ing about these primises, I've got a nateral right to give him a h-11 of a licking, and I'll hev' my rights, by blazes, whenever I gits a chairice!" We are not prepared to say that the Captain was convinced bY this argument, which was continued for some time after this, and was wound up by a stoup of Jamaica, when the parties all retired for the night. Millhouse congratulated himself and companions that a favourable impression had been made, but Frampton was doubtful. His sympathies had taught him better how to see into the Captain's heart, and to comprehend his' mysteries. The Cor- page: 480-481[View Page 480-481] 480 THE SWORD- AND THE DISTAFF. poral judged only of what should be -the effect of arguments, and an eloquence, so potent as his own. The next morning, at sunrise, found the two subordinates astir. Frampton and Millhouse went forth together in consultation, the latter looking exceedingly ominous, like some great bull-dog on duty, and having a keen scent in his nostrils of some intruder. At breakfast, the subject of the last night was resumed by the Cor- poral, but the Captain made no response. He expressed no sur- prise to see Frampton linger away from his young wife. The Lieutenant said nothing of the object of his visit, or of the sum. mons which induced it, but quietly assumed the air and attitude of one on duty. The good youth, accustomed to military author- ity, and trained up in great measure by Porgy, was prepared to obey at every peril. Of law, he had only vague notions. So far as his experience went, civil authority had been only a name-a venerable thing, perhaps--but which men every where plucked by the beard, without fear, and with impunity. He had yet to learn that it could prove more potent now than during the seven years previous, when each man did the thing that was best in his own sight, and when there were no judges in the land, however nume- rous might be the executioners. He had come to stand up beside, and for, his feudal lord-such was really the sort of relation be- tween the parties-and to break spear for him, and peril life,l against all comers. ,It is possible that Porgy understood the pur- port of his visit, but he forebore all remark upon it. The youth was simply welcomed, as of old; and, as of old, he went at once on duty. The Corporal soon showed himn that the duty was to be a vigilant one, and was quite necessary. The two mounted guard alternately. Certain, favourite negroes were selected as scouts and videttes, who watched all the approaches to the plantation. One was chosen to ascend through. the scuttle to the housetop,-and keep his eyes at once on every point of the compass: And thus THE SHERIFF IN LIMBO. 481 matters stood, without any event to excite alarm, until the third day after Frampton's arrival. On this day, some little after noon, and just when Porgy was beginning to think of dinner, the scouts came in bringing intelligence of the approach, in the direc- tion of Gleni-Eberley, of a very stylish looking gentleman, in black habit, driving the vehicle, then in fashionable use for one or two persons, called the " chaise," a heavy lumbering sort of gig, with a capacious top ;o it. This was the sheriff, the well-known, amia- ble, graceful and accomplished, Colonel -, whose solicitude to do an unpleasant duty pleasantly, had prompted him to undertake a task which is now-a-days commonly confided to a deputy. At the gate of the avenue of Glen-Eberley, the sheriff found himself suddenly arrested by a person in military habit. Before he knew where he was, a huge horseman's pistol was clapped to his head, and he was required to give an account of himself. The sheriff was confounded. "Why, young man," said he, "what does all this mean? Why are you armed to the teeth, and why am I arrested with violence on the peaceful highway? Who are you, and what do tyou take me for?" "For a person that's after no good, stranger!" was .the answer of Lance Frampton. "We hear that there's some enemies of Captain Porgy after him, who want to seize him and his negroes, and we are jest hlere to see that they do no such thing!" "Why,owho is there to take his property?' "Who! I don't know; but they are enemies, and varmints, sheriffs, and sucL like tory people!" "Frampton's mode of catalogueing, showed considerable inex- perience, by which the sheriff was amused rather than annoyed. "You do not mean to say, my friend, that you would resist a sheriff in the execution of his lawful duties?" "Let him only try it here!" was the indignant answer. 39 page: 482-483[View Page 482-483] 482 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. "Well, my good friend, my business here is to see Captain Porgy." "But you're not the sheriff?" "Sheriff, indeed! I'm Col. --- , formerly of the army. I know Captain Porgy well. He'll be glad to see me, I've no doubt." "And you're not one of the sheriff's fellows, then?" demanded Frampton, doubtfully. "Do I look like any one's fellow?" asked the sheriff, laughing. "I don't know! I'm on duty here to see that no sherifft or any of his fellows, get into the place; and I'm bound to examine close. ly. But I'll take you in, where you can see another person that's on duty, and that knows better what's to be done than I do. Get out boy"--to the sheriff's driver--" get up behind," In a moment, Frampton had changed places with the negro.- This done, he took the reins, saying as he drove- ( If you were to drive up this avenue, stranger, except under my charge, you'd be most like to have a bullet through your jacket." "The devil! You have then converted Glen-Eberley into a fortified place?" "'Yes, indeed! And we can make a pretty stiff fight against a good troop of sheriffs." "Humph! The Captain's at home, I suppose?" "Yes, indeed! But it's a chance you won't get a sight of him. It all depends upon Corporal Millhouse. He's the officer on duty. jYou must make it all clear to him, that you don't come for any evil, before he'll let you 'light.' " "Indeed!" and, with his secret meditations, the sheriff smiled pleasantly enough; but his smiles were arrested as suddenly as he himself had been before, as, almost in the middle of the avenue, Frampton drew up the horses. "Here's the Corporal!" said he. - . 1!I THE SHERIFF-IN LIMBO. 483 The sheriff, at the same moment, saw approaching, from the head 1 of the horses, a stalwart figure, with pistols in belt, and sabre wavinog in his left hand. A cap made of the skins of a pair of grey squirrels, with the tails flapping on both sides, covered his head. His' uniform was of strange military mixture, altogether indescribable, bIt propriety requires that we should describe it as a uniform. His eye was fiercely suspicious, and his mouth was compressed with most rigid determination. a"Who's he?" was the stern demand of the Corporal, as the ve- hicle was stopped, and he presented himself, waving his sabre, in front of the visitor. I "He calls himself Col. ---, of the army; says he's not the I sheriff, or any of his fellows, and wants to see the Captain." The Corporal glared at him with eyes of piercing inquiry; and, after a moment's pauses said- i "Take off your hat, stranger, that I may see what sort of a head you've got of yorr own!" The sheriff, smilingly civil, complied with therequisition. O "He looks onharmful enough, Lance, but there's no knowing. j I never haird of any ,Col. - in the army; I've hearn of a Cap- pin with some s'ch name, but I never haird that hb did any think much. He warn't no great shakes. You say, stranger, that our Cappin knows you?" "Yes!" said the sheriff, meekly, beginning to feel somewhat dubious of his securities. "Well, hev' you any way to let him hear from you, by any writing or letter. For, as for seeing him afore he hears all about you, that's onpossible!" The sheriff produceL a pencil, tore off a bit of paper from a let- ter, wrote his nv me upon it, and offered it tto-te Corporal. "Stick it on the eend of my sabre ;' said the waly soldier, not knowing how such a talisman, taken into his hands, might com- promise his relations with the Captain or the enemy. page: 484-485[View Page 484-485] 484 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. "Now, Lance, git out, and take out the horse; then you carry this paper, jest as it stands, to the Cappin; I'll keep guard on this pusson, in the meantime, when you're gone.' A few moments sufficed for this performance, and Frampton set off, beating the missive at the point of the sword, and leaving Millhouse, pistol in hand, confronting the visitor. The latter made a movement as if to git out; but the Corporal, with a horrid voice of war, cried out- "Don't you stir a peg, onless you wants me to blow a winder through your buzzum! Jes' keep quiet whar' you air, ef you wants an easy time of it!" And he followed up the terrible threat by a wilful obtrusion of the huge pistol, jaws wide open, full into the gaping jaws of the doubtful visitor. The sheriff recoiled, as well he might. He was half afraid now to move a limb, although, just then, it occurred to him that the ends of certain legal 'ouments, of considerable size, were peering too conspicuously from a breast pocket; and he feared, if remarked, it would scarcely be possible for him to es- cape the imputation of being the much hated officer, for the hos- tile reception of whom these men were in arms. He finally at- tempted the thing once, but, as he lifted his hand to his bosom, Millhouse mistook it for an attempt to get at his weapons, and he instantly applied his own. Again was the huge muzzle of the pistol clapped to the sheriff's head with an awful injunction- "Ef you lifts a hand, or stirs a peg, stranger, you swallows a bullet that no white man can chaw. I've been in the army, too long, my friend, to let the inimy git his hand fairly into his buzzum. Jest you try it, ef you wants to see how I manages in sich a case. Jest you try it, ef you'd see blazes to shet up both your eyes." The sheriff resigned himself submissively to the necessity. The Corfporal, clearly, was not a sentinel to be trifled with; and the prisoner, beginning honestly to wish himself well out of the pre- sent predicament, was now afraid to relax the stiffened limb, to COUP DE THEATRE.. 485 ease out leg or arm, knee or elbow, lest he should incur the sud- den penalty bf blow or bullet. He remained thus in a most un- easy state of rest, which was any thing but repose, waiting, with anxiety, for the return of the more civil of his two captors. CHAPTER LVIL HIS COUP DE THEATRE. WHEN Lance Frampton entered the house with the paper of the sheriff, addressed to Porgy, and which contained only the name of the former, the Captain of Partisans was preparing him- self for dinner, which Tom, the cook, was himself about to place upon the table. "Where's Pomp, Tom?" demanded the Captain. "Pomp dey somewhere; dey tak' care ob hese'f, I 'speck." re- plied Tom, with a significant jerk of the head. "Somewhere! Taking care of himself! Why, what the d-1 is he after, and. why don't you call him in to his duty? You should see, Tom, that the scamp does not skulk too frequently.-- He has too ihucl taste for it, as is, perhaps, the case with all fid- dlers. Halloo for the scamp, and see that he is at his post. Take care of himself, indeed I'll see that he takes care of me." "Ie no guine ye'r holler dis time, maussa!" answered Tom. Nebber you min' maLssa; he will come jis' when we wants 'em; only jis' now, he sca'ce (scarce)!" "But we want him now /" "Can't come now, mausa! Pomp in de swamp, safe shet up. Nobody for sh'um (see him)!" 39* page: 486-487[View Page 486-487] "In the swamp! What the d-- 1 is he after in the swamp? But the farther dialogue was arrested by the appearance of Frampton, very much to Tom's relief, since he could not mulch longer have evaded the direct demands of his master, while Mill. house had enjoined upon him silence. To let the reader into a secret, all the negroes had taken to the swamp, except Tom, from the moment when the sheriff's chaise had been arrested'at the en- trance of the avenue! "Well, Lance; in armour, still?. What's the matter?" "We've captured a man here, Captain, who calls himself Col. ,and says you know him. He sends you this." Porgy read the slip. "' Col. ; and you've captured him, you say? How?- Why?" Frampton told his story briefly. "Why, you see, we're on duty; and we thought he was the sheriff, and so we took him into captivity. The Corporal's stand- ing guard over him, while I brought you the paper." "Captured him! And where is he?" "In the avenue. You can see him through the window, where the Corporal has him under guard." Porgy looked out, and burst into an uncontrollable fit of laugh- ter. "Ha! ha! ha! Good, i' faith! excellent! The captor in cap- tivity! Ha! ha! ha! Well, this is promising! The game be- gins well. We shall have the laugh on our side, at least, wheth- er we lose or not in the long run. Ha! ha! ha!" The Captain made the Lieutenant repeat the details-the dia- logue-every particular; and the merriment of the Captain was renewed. The whole thing struck him amusingly. It appealed to his leading passion for practical jokes. He determined to hu- mour it to the end. "So, you thought Col. the sheriff, did you 8 Ha! ha! COUP DE THEATRE. .4 ha! admirable! Wlat a story to tell! -But, I will go out to him. I must only put a few extra dishes on the table. Here, Tom!-And now, Lance, step out to the Corporal; tell him watch his prisoner closely. I will come out and see if he is 'eally the Colonel, whom I know very well! We must not be imposed upon, Lance! By no means! Ha! ha! ha! The captor in captivity! Very good, by Mercury, very good!" Lance Frampton disappeared; perfectly satisfied that the Cap- tain approved of all his proceedings; a matter of which he had not been quite sure previously. When he was gone, Porgy, with Tom's assistance, proceeded to put himself in caparison of war. His uniform was hastily hustled on, his belt girded about his waist, sword slung at his side, pistols stuck in his belt, and in his hand he carried a long rifle. This done, he proceeded to arrange cer- certain mysteriously covered dishes upon the table. jTom was al- so made to ecuip himself in armour-that is, with a light toma- hawk over his shoulder, a huge couteau de chasse in one side of his belt, and a great horseman's pistol in the other. Porgy gave him some final directic ns, and thenf sallied forth to examine the prisoner. Before he appeared, the sheriff had begun to meditate the propriety of declaring his indignation, in very strong language, at the treatment he received; but, at the approach of Porgy, look- ing swords, bayonets and blunderbusses, his purpose 2hanged.- Was the Captain crazy? Could he really mean to defy the laws? The Colonel began to have his doubts. He had heard of the mad fieaks of which Porgy had been occasionally guilty; he had heard that he was very free in his potations; he saw Lothing but savage defiance in the features of Millhouse, and nothing but sober soldier resolution, and dogged adherence to authority, in the aspect of Frampton. T"he gown began to tremble in the presence of the sword. "I must temporize!"' was the unspoken decision of the sheriff, "I must see how the land lies first! Who kAows what desperate actions these mad fellows may not commit." Porgy page: 488-489[View Page 488-489] :ou TCH "J.;i BWUA DU . . 'AN D I L Y AJL' 'a."* came on slowly, as became his size and state. As he approached, the sheriff made a movement as if to rise. "Not a step, stranger!" cried the vigilant Millhouse, holding up the yawning pistols. "Wait 'tell the Cappin gives the word." The Captain seemed slow to give the word. He drew nigh with the air of a man who felt that he might, at any moment, be required to pull trigger. His rifle was held in readiness, his finger near the trigger. He walked up to Millhouse, and looked suspi. ciously at the vehicle. Who have you got here, Corporal '" The Corporal saluted, in military style, flourishing the pistol in- stead of the sword, as he answered- "A fellow who calls himself Col. , but I don't know. He mout-be, and mout-be not, the Colonel. But he says he knows you, and you knows him." Porgy advanced a pace, and peered suspiciously into the vehicle, still keeping a very deliberate step, and a severe, suspicious aspect. The sheriff cried out- What, Capt. Porgy, don't you know me " "Bless me, so it is! It is Col. . My dear Colonel, I am truly rejoiced to see you, and greatly regret that my fellows should have subjected you to 'durance vile' for a single moment. It was all a mistake. Get out, if you please. They took you for some d d harpy of -he law-the sheriff or some one of his vile myrmidons. Get out, my dear fellow, andqet us hurry in to dinner. You are just in pudding time." "He evidently does rot know that I have been made sheriff," was the silent whisper of the Colonel to himself, as, accepting the invitation, he descended from the vehicle, which Porgy immediate- ly told Frampton to drive up to the house. "We have but one single negro on the place," said Porgy; " at sight of you, supposing you the sheriff, every two legged animal, of dark complexion, took to the swamp. You gave them a scare, I \, COUP DE THEATRE. 489 assure you. ut come, I am really glad to see you at Glen-Eber- ley, and just at this moment." And he shoek hands with the sheriff, with the cordial army shake, which threatened to dislocate a member in order to com- pel rememberaice. The sheriff felt a little relieved, even while the usage was so rouga. They walked towards the Louse arm in arm. "Let me carry your rifle, Captain," said the sheriff. "My rifle! No, indeed, Colonel, no! I never par; with it. I know not at what moment I may have to use it. There is a skunk of a Scotchman, in my neighbourhood, who may cross my path some day, and, as I tell you, I am in momentary expectation of the visits of the sheriff, or some of his satellite harpies." "But you certainly would not drawtrigger upon an officer of the law?" "Would I not!" exclaimed the Captain, suddenly stopping in his march, withdrawing his own arm from that of the other, apd confronting him w'th a stern expression. "Would I not?- Will I consent, after fighting the battles of my count-y for seven years, to be driven from my estates by a d--d civilian-a fel- low, probably, who never smelt gunpowder in his life. No! in- deed! I will die in ha-ness and in possession! The7 may con- quer me-I suppose they will, in time; but I will hold on while I can, do battle to the last, and when they do take possession, they shall walk into it only over my dead body." "And here's the man to baick you, Cappin, by the Lord Har- ry!" Such was the speecL, delivered with stentor-lungs, from the rear; the'Corporal at the same moment amusing himself with thrusting back his sabre into the steel sheath, with such an em- phasis, as to make it ring again. The sheriff was startled from his propriety, for a moment, by the sudden illustration which fol- lowed the Captain's fierce determination. page: 490-491[View Page 490-491] "O THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. "They are all Lmad together," he again whispered to himself; and it might be observed that his deportment became more con- ciliatory than eve. "Come , Colonel, let us in, now, and see what dinner we shall find awaiting us. A stoup of Jamaica will refresh you after your tide, and me after my scare. The very idea of a sheriff makes me thirst; and to be relieved of this idea, I must drink. Come! In!" And the Captain seized his guest good-naturedly by the arm, and the two ascended to the piazza, the Corporal thundering with heavy tread behi nd, his sabre sheath rattling against the steps at every stride, and reminding the sheriff, momently, of the military nature of the escort. When in the house, he threw off his hat and Porgy discardied his military cap; the squirrel skin covering of Millhouse was doffed also, and the three joined in a devout draught of Jamaica. But neither of the two latter laid aside his weapons. The swords still swinging at their sides, and the pistols at their belts. Meanwhile, dinner was announced, and the Captain of Partisans motioned the sheriff to a seat at one end of the table, he preparing to take the place opposite. ThedColporal sank into a seat on one side. Once seated, the Captain 6nsheath- ed his sabre, which he laid across the table, the hilt conidenient to his grasp. The Corporal followed the example, only substituting his lap for the table Lance Frampton came in at this moment, took a place opposite the Corporal, and, seeing what the latter had done with his weapon, made a similar disposition of his own.- The sheriff saw these proceedings, which seemed habitual, with in- creasing surprise. "Certainly," he again whispered himself, " these people are 1al nad!" The reflection increased his observances, and made him studious to maintain the utmost propriety of de- meanour. He looked about him, and curiously surveyed all that came within the range of his vision. We have not hitherto thought it necessary to mention that, with the borrowed money of I COUP DE THEATRE. 491 i I Mrs. Eveleigh, the Captain had succeeded in furnissing his house with some regard equally to comfort and display. 'he want of money in the city when he entered the market, and the number of families who were 'selling out, had enabled him to procure a complete outfit at small cost. He no longer dined upon the floor, carpetted with blanket. He had now ample' supplies of chairs and tables: tlere were mirrors against his walls, and fine linen upon his table. There was no display of plate, it is t 'ue, beyond the necessary allowance of spoons, but his china was quite impo- sing, and would be considered so now. His decanters and tum- L blers were of cut-glass, and the covers to his dishes were of very I handsome plating. I When the dishes were uncovered, it was with increasing sur- prise that the sheriff bbheld one, within reach of Porgy, contain- I ing a pair of highly polished pistols. He attempted something I of a jest when he saw t em. { "Really, Captain, yout cannot design that dislI for the digestion, of any visitor." "The digestion must depend upon himself" was the cool reply; "but there are parties, 'who might sometimes intrude upon me, i for whose special feeding they are provided." 1 I "What! the sheriff, e. , with a faint chuckle. I "Exactly! Shall I help you to soup, Colonel 2" "If you please." i "Bouille?" "Thank you-a little. " ; "You will find it more manageable than bullet." "Yes, indeed!" ! "Try a little of that Madeira with your soup. It improves it wonderfully to my ta ste. Tom!"-testing--' you have not put quite enough salt in your soup ." t l " ho say so? Enty \ I know Tas'e 'em 'gen, maussa! I 'speck you fin' salt 'noug'i in 'em next time. Heu! Ef I ain't page: 492-493[View Page 492-493] "2 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. know, by dis time, how for salt de soup, I t'row 'way heap of my life for not'ing." "Hear the rascal. He knows that lie doesn't belong to me, or he would never be so impudent. How are negroes selling now, Colonel? I got a -hundred guineas for that fellow." "You were wh paid, Captain. At his time of life, unless a fellow had some rare qualities, he could scareely command more than half that money." "Tom has ralie qualities. He can cook a good dinner; can make and season soup to perfection, and would have done so to- day-would certainly never have thrown in too little salt-but that he heard some talk of the sheriff, and in his agitation and the hurry with which he armed himself with his- favourite wea- pons-see the knife and the hatchet-he has been careless with his salt-has pro'ably spilt half of that in the fire which he in- tended for the so p. How does it taste to you, Colonel?" "Right, sir;. very good soup, and well seasoned. I should say that your cook has salted it sufficiently." "T'ank you, sah," quoth Tom. "I mos' bin'fear'd I spill some ob de salt, when I yer 'bout dem warmint, de sheriff; but ef you tas'e 'em, da's 'nough. Salt musn't be too sharp in soup for he good seas'ning." From the soups they passed to the solids. There was a round of beef. There Was a pair of wild ducks. The sheriff began to recover his confidence with his appetite, and to praise Tom's cook- ing. Porgy watched and listened to him with a grim pleasure. Occasionally, the Corporal put in, with some of his philosophies, whenever anything- particularly provocative had been said, but it may be stated tlat he was particularly taciturn that day. The fact is, the conduct of the Captain was somewhat mysterious. The guest was inoffensive-was clearly not the sheriff-yet he saw that Porgy was playing out a game upon him-whether for the pur- pose of alarming the stranger's fears, or amusing himself, he could COUP DE THEATRE. 493, not determine; but the) dou'bt kept him fiercely suspicious, and watchful of every look land movement of the guest. The sheriff noted the man's air ard manner, and was impressed according- ly. The conduct of Lance Frampton, who was singularly quiet, was yet of a sort to fix his attention. In this young man he be- held a fixed confidence in his superior, and a readiness to obey orders, which showed that, at a wink, he would be prepared to actW and without any regard to responsibilities. After awhile the wine began to circulate, though the Corporal still confired himself to the Jamaica. Even when, at the summons of the Captain, he emptied his glass of Madeira, he was sure to swallow a good mouthful of the run after it, as if to prevent any evil conse- quences from the more Cristocratic liquor. The dishes were clear- ed away, and Tom gave the, party a rice pudding, which was voted good on all hands. Its removal was followed by the in- troduction of raisins, ground-nutsi (peanuts br pindars;) and black walnuts. Over the wine and walnuts, the chat grew more and more lively. It passed from topic to topic; the town and country; the camp and court; civil life and that of the soldier; but there was one lurking trouble in the mind of the sheriff which invariably brough-t him back to the peculiar condition in which he found the household. "Really," said he, "Captain, I find it impossible to realize the assurance that you make me, that you are all ari4ed and equipped here to resist the operations of the law." "Indeed!" said Porgy, looking grave. "You find :t difficult to understand, and why .? Is it so strange that I should be un- willing to surrender all Idy possessions, at the first demand, and without a struggle." "But you could scarcely expect to make resistance to the laws of the land. The sheriff is armecd with a sovereign power for the time. How would you Lope to hold out against him " 40 page: 494-495[View Page 494-495] "4 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. "You mean to say that he would overwhelm me with the pos- se comitatus?' "Ay, and if need, call out the military!" "To be sure he may, and certainly there is a power to which my own must succumb. What then? If I am to yield up all the goods of life, why not life also? What is life to me? You know myl tast s and habits. You know how I have lived and how I still liv . Some men will tell you that I am a glutton, oth- ers, that I imlue my appetites equally with my tastes and philo- sophies; all agree that I am, essentially, a good deal of an ani- mal-that I was profligate in youth that I might enjoy life, and that in the good things of this life, I find life itself. I won't deny the charge. 3e it so. Am I to survive the good things, and yet cherish the lif?. Wherefore? What does Shylock say,-whom, by the way, I take to be a very shrewd and sensible fellow, and a greatly ill-used rascal- - "You take my life When you do take the means whereby I live!" And, when I have perilled my life a thousand times for the benefit of other people's goods, shall I not venture it for the protection of my own!" "But, my dear Captain, there is a material difference between doing a thing with the sanction of the law, and in defiance of it." "None to me! Don't-you see, my dear Colonel, that I am prepared to sacrifice my life with my property, and that law can, in no way, exact a, higher forfeit? -But d n the law! We've had enough of it for the present. Fill up your glass. You will find that Madeira prime. It is from an ancient cellar!" "Thank you! [Fills,] Well, my dear Captain, suffer me to hope for you an escape from the clutches of the law by legiti- mate means!" , "I'm obliged to you, my dear Colonel; but we army men don't "COUP DE THEATRE. 495 care much about the mnans, so that we effect the escape. I am for stratagem or fight, sap or storm, just as the' best policy coun- cils. Life, after all, is a constant warfare. -Rogues are only ene- mies in lamlbskins, or ermine. They do not care to cut my throat so long as I have a purse to cut; they will not care to drive me to desperation, so long rs it is profitable to them that I should live. I knov them! I defy them! I can die without a grunt to-morrow. I have neither wife, nor child, nor mother, nor sister, to deplore my fate, or to profit by my departure. I ar, with the exception of these two faithful comrades of mine, utterly alone in the world. They shall live with me while I live. They would die for me to-morrlow. Were a man but to lift a finger against me, to assail my life, or my meanest fortunes, they would be into him with bullet and bayonet, and need not a signal from me. "That's a rightious trluth, by the Hokies!" exclaimed the Cor- poral, with his one fist thundering down upon the te ble. The Lieutenant's eyes brightened keenly, and he looked to tLe Captain, but he said nothing. "I have no doubt they are true and faithful friends, Captain," said the sheriff; " but slppose now, only suppose, I say, the she- riff was suddenly to appear among you, just as I am here now, and were to-" i He was stopt! Stopt in an instant, as by a th'underbolt, by ti I the prompt reply and action of Porgy. "Suppose the sheriff 'n you! Ha! Suppose the rest for your- self.-See!" And with the wild but determined look and action of a despe- rate man, he seized-both pistols lying in the dish before him, stood up, reached as far over the table as he could, and covered the figure of the amiable but indiscreet Sheriff with both muzzles cocking the weapons as he did so. The sheriff involuntarily dodged and threw up his hands. At the same instant, and as soon as the purpose of the superior had been understocd by Mill- , page: 496-497[View Page 496-497] "6 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. house and the. Lieutenant, they were both upon their feet-the Corporal swinging his sabre over the head of the supposed offender; while 'rampton, more silent, but quite as decided, while he swung his sword aloft with one hand, grasped with- the other the well- powdered shock of the Sheriff, in an attitude very like that which we see employed by the ferocious Blue Beards in the opera, when the poor wife is tremblingly crying out for her brother. Here was an unpremeditated coup de theatre! Two swords crossed in air above the victim,-two pistols, with each broad muzzle almost jammed against his own; every eye savagely fixed upon him,:and all parties seeming to await only the farther word of provocation from his lips. Nothing had been more instantaneous. The sub. ordinates were machines, to whom Porgy furnished all the im- pulse. Their action followed his will, as soon as it was expressed. There was no questioning it, and the amiable Sheriff was so much paralyzed by the display, that it was only with much effort that he could cry out-- But, my dear Captain, don't suppose me the enemy-the assailant-the d--d Sheriff or any of his myr. midons." "By no means, Colonel; but you supposed a case in order to see whether, and how, we were prepared for it; and it was essen- tial that you should have a proper demonstration. You have seen; be easy; fill up your glass, my dear sir, and forgive nmy merry men here for the earnestness with which they performed their parts. They had no reason, indeed, to suppose that I was not serious. You see what chance a bona fide Sheriff would stand, if he aimed at any showing here!" Porgy had resumed his seat, and restored the pistols to the dish as coolly as the actor, who takes his brandy and water, equal parts, after strangling! his wife, stabbing the traitor, and dying famously in the person of Othello. It was not so easy for Millhousetto throw off his tragic aspect. He resumed his seat slowly, never once taking his eyes from the Colonel's face, as he did so; and "EGAL REGIMEN. 49 7 during the whole progress of the feast, he continued to regard him with only half reconciled senses. CHAPTER LVIII. M * LEGAL REGIMEN. THE excellent Sher ff no longer felt any call to trespass in ex- periments upon the legal antipathies of the Captain of Partisans and his observant follower. He steered wide of all allusions from thenceforth to the officer of the law, and his possible appearance in the precincts. He :elt really impressed with the danger of any one who should, with malice prepense, do so, in the evidently dis- eased condition of mind and mood prevailing at Glen-Eberley. Tlhat he should thus forbear, however, was by no means agreeable to his self-esteem or Lis sense of duty. He was uncomfortable wken he thought of his official station, and the sealed documents in his pockets. He had come there to make a levy on land and negroes, without dreaming that he should encounter any opposi- tion. Resistance, wit. force of arms, was entirely beyond his imaginings; and to depart, having done nothing, was at once a laclhesse of duty and a personal mortification. More tlan once he felt like plucking up his drowning courage, and perilling his life upbn his manhood-boldly challenging the danger, and facing it with folded arms of defiance; but, on all such occasions, as if Porgy and his followers knew, by instinct, his emotions, there would occur some explosion, or some symptom of explosion, which would remind him vividly of the smouldering volcano upon which he sate. For example, he once made an allusion, deliberately de- 40* page: 498-499[View Page 498-499] "8 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. signed, to McKewn; and Millhouse flared up, and fumbled }is sabre, and gnashed his teeth, even as the Frenchman when he cries, ' Sacre!" through his moustache, or the Spaniard when he growls "Demonios!" and flourishes his dagger. Frampton showed similar signs of inpatience-while Porgy exclaimed aloud, striking his fist down upon the table:- "Dont mention that scoundrel's name in my hearing, Colonel! I feel wolfish when I hear of him. Let him but cross my path; let any of his myrmidons but put themselves in my way, and if I do not crop their ears, close to the head, then there's no edge to any weapon in my household."-- '"But is he not a neighbour, Captain?" "Neighbour! Well, sir, I suppose you may call him a neigh- bour, even .as the devil is a neighbour, and is said to take free lodgings in every man's dwelling; but such neighbourhood does not :prevent us from flinging the wretch out of the windows, whenever our good saints give us the necessary succour. Don't speak of such a scoundrel to my ears, or I may do you the injus- tice to suppose you are his friend." The Sheriff took the warning, and AMcKewn was dropped, and all subjects were dropped which were likely to stir up the bile and black blood in the bosoms of the host and his companions. The Sheriff resigned himself to his fate, and to the policy of doing nothing with as much grace as possible. He was not only fright- ened from the purpose for which he came, but the feeling of good fellowship momently grew stronger with the circulation of the wine, and the excellent spirits of the Captain. The latter, in all respects, except the one, was on his best behaviour, and in most amiable temper. He never showed himself more really bumo- rous and delightful as a companion in all his life. The Sheriff was charmed and listened. He was soothed and satisfied. His philosophy came into the support of his necessity. He reasoned thus, accordingly: "EGAL REGIMEN. 499 "There is no need to push the matter! Porgy's estate is good, at any moment, for thiy debt. Every day increases ;he value of both lands and negroes. Were I to seize and sell now, the pro- perty would be sacrificed. It would pay the debt, but leave noth- ing over to the good fellow, who has been serving his country in a long and jonourable warfare. D-n the fellow! I like him, and he shall have indulgence as long as I can[grant i;!" As soon as he had leached this conclusion! and resolved that his visit sho ld no longer have a professional object, the play was easy. He yielded hiinself up to the society in which he found himself. He felt the charm of his host's fun and )hilosophy; and he, too, had good things in his keeping. When he had once resolved to s'nk the S1 erifi, he gave himself free scope, let him- self out, and became, what he was known to be in ;he army, a really good fellow, of ro savage inclinations, fond of a jovial cir- cle, and capable of making himself the life of it. The day passed and the party of four had not left the table. They had raised their clouds around it; all being smokers except the Lieutenant. Coffee was served by T'm, in the midst of the cloud. When the coffee disappeared, the Jamaica and the Madeira were restored. Cards followed, and at ;welve o'clock at night, the Sheriff rose a loser of some thirty shillings to Corporal Millhouse, who playea through the hands of F -ampton, and who became more and more reconciled to ;he suspicious guest with every shilling which the lat- ter yielded. When, next morning, after the Colonel's departure,-- which took p ace soon acter an early breakfast-he was discoursing of his good qualities, h's companionable virtues, and so forth, the Captain of Partisans la'd his hand on his shoulder-- "Ah! Millhouse, butlyou dont know the man." "What! Le's Col. %, aint he?" "Yes." "And a main good fellow, I say." Wel enough well enough;-wel ;no but-your ear, Coiporal." page: 500-501[View Page 500-501] 500 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. The latter yielded it; the Captain stooped as if to whisper- then in deep, solemn - accents, as if drawn up from immeasurable depths, he cried out- THE 'GOLONEL IS THE SHERIFF!" The Corporal made but one bounce, and was across the ronm; his countenance wo-begone with surprise amounting to terlror. His involuntary utterance, occasioned equally by what he had heard, and the tone of voice employed in telling it, was charac- teristic of his early attention when at church service. "Hairk from the tombs! The Sheriff, Cappin i" "The Sheriff!" What! our Sheriff,- what's a-coming a'ter our goods and chattels." "The same!" "Oh! ef I'd ha' knowed it! I'll be a'ter him!-Lance!" "No! Do nothing of the kind i We've got off, thus far, very well. The joke is a good one, upon which I can feed fat vith laughter for a month. I must ride over and tell the widow. How he-sides will shake!" "The Sheriff! It's onpossible, Cappin! And he 'haved him- self po civil and sensible, and never said a thing about the d-d execution!" "No, indeed! the pistols looked too full of executions of a more serious sort, to say nothing of your two foot sabre, and your mbn- strous ferocity of visage, Corporal." "' Ha! ha! ha!-ho! h o! h!-ha haw aw!" The whole story became very slowly apparent to Millhouse; but when he did receive it fully, the house was made to shake with his wild yells of laughter. Lance Frampton was perhaps more keenly sensible to the force of the jest, but he permitted himself, at' best, a quiet chuckle only in a corner. It was in the midst of a torrent of Millhouse's yells, that Porgy had his horse saddled, and rode over to the widow Eveleigh, to whom he re- "EGAL REGIMEN. 501 counted the little drama, from the first scene to the last, with in- imitable effect. The widow did laugh; dignity, in those days, did not deny the privileges of an honest cecchination even to nobility; anc, we are constrained to admit, as ad been predicted by Porgy, that her sides did shake; but not vulgarly, or with too ostentatious a display of the commotion within and without. It was a lady-like show of shaking which did not discredit, in the least, the social claims and bearing of the fair widow. But when she recovered herself from the shaking of the sides, she shook her head, and, with becoming gravity, said- "But, Captain, is no; this flying in the face of the law Will this not compromise you seriously?" By no means, my dear widow ;" he answered merrily, "the law never showed its face to us for a moment. We thave treated it with no discourtesy." But its ressenger, the Sheriff!" "He never showed himself in that character." "But that was due to your course-" "Perhaps, but that course was not illegal. There is nothing penal in the case. If he allowed his apprehensions to get the better of his sense of cuty, the more fool he. He has no right to complain and will be ashamed to do so. As for the law, we have done no;hing against which the law ca-nshake a finger." "But the matter does not end here. The Sheriff will, of course come again, .nnd-" "I shall play out the play, my dear Mrs. Eveleigh, as it has be- gun. I must have the :un in full; and for the rest,-why, I will content myself with the proverb of the patriarch-' Sr fficient for the day is the evil thereof. It will be time enough ;o look out for the bolt when we hear the thunder." "Too late-the flash ." - - "Precisely, my dear widow, precisely that! It is because the case is one against which no. precautions can avail, that I choose page: 502-503[View Page 502-503] 502 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. to look out for the bolt after it strikes and not before. But, good- bye, I must ride back and write to Pinckney all about this mat- ter. He must share the fun. He will relish it, I know. I would he had been a spectator! The thing is indescribable ;-only to be seen' in the visages of Millhouse, Lance, and the Sheriff, as the two crossed weapons over his head, and I faced him out of coun- tenance with my unmuzzled bull dogs. My dear widow, would you believe it, the innocent pups that looked so fiercely in the eyes of the Sheriff, were toothless. There was no load in either. But, good bye; God bless you! I must get back in a hurry. I rode over only that you should enjoy the story." The story, indeed, was quite too good a one to be quiet in any. bosom. That very niht -Millhouse gave an enteritainment to Fordham and the overseer of McKewn himself, when the nalra- tive was given at length. McKewn's man relished it quite as much as did Fordham.; and the next day, when McKewn saun- tered out to his: stables, he was duly enlightened upon the events occurring in his neighbourhood. He had expected the Sheriff at his house after or befor the levy, and had he made it, the proba- bility is that the night Svould have been spent with McKewn in- stead of Porgy. The former listened to'his overseer without com- ment. He saw that the latter watched him furtively, to see what effect would be produced by the revelation. But he was disap- pointed. McKewn maintained the utmost immobility of coun- tenance. He said nothing, spent the day as usual, but the very next, he bad his, carriage got and started off on a visit to the offi- cer of the law. ,The Sheriff was by no means surprised to see him enter his office; but the visit disquieted him. "Have you proceeded in that business, Colonel?--McKewn :versus Porgy." "Not yet, Mr, McKewn." "But did you; not visit Glen-Eberley for the ,express purpose, Colonel " \ \ \ "EGAL REGIMEN. 503 ' "No-not exactly! I wished to look about me, and judge of i the securities. As I saw that the property would baing the mo- ney at any moment, I did not see the necessity of forcing it into { the market, where it would be only sacrificed." I AMcKewn smiled significantly. The Sheriff saw the smile. He understood it, and blushed to the ears. He saw that the secret of his recept'on had got abroad. He, at once, felt all the mortifi- cation to which it would expose him. He longed for McKewn to I give him occasion of quarrel. He needed some bbdy on whom to expend his anger and vexation. But the Scotchman was too wary for this. He quietly said- "I cannot leave this matter to the discretion of lny body, Co- g lonel, however excellen; his judgment. I must have my money; I and I must require you to realize it as soon as it is practicable."' I ( "But, Mr. McKewn, it will be the ruin of Captaip Porgy!" "That is Lis look-out, not mine;-not to realize my money, may be my ruin, Colonel; I must require you to do yo'-r duty, sir. I From this moment I shall Look to you." I '; Be it so, sir. There is a Deputy. He shall be despatched at 1 once upon the business." McKewn loked rour d upon the person designated, and nodded his head approvingly. Ee knew Crooks--Absalom Crooks-of old, and respectec him as one of the very best bull-terriers o-' the law- a broad shou 'dered, stout, short, little fellow, withl no crook about him except in his , legs, which were bowed, so as to render the space between a very happy oval; while his arms hurg out fromn his body at klrge range. He had a red head, red face, red whis- kers, red waistcoat, and Iwas tolerably well read in the law. Mc- Kewn knew his man and approved him. "Crooks," said he--taking the Deputy aside-" see ,vell to this business;-get the negroes into your custody, and bring them riyght away with you. It shall be worth to you five guineas extra, as'soon as the money is realized." , I page: 504-505[View Page 504-505] Crooks-crooked the pregnant hinges of the knee, at these preg. nant words, and promised solemnly. "Hark you, Crooks ; you are dealing with cunning fellows, who will tryiall ways to scare you out of your duties; but don't allow yourself to be frightened." "..Frightened " exclaimed Crooks,-" don't know how to be frightened, sir,-never learnt, sir-couldn't take that sort of edu- cation. Frightened! I'd like to see." And Crooks looked his fiercest. In truth, he was not the man to be very easily made afraid. He was a fiery little fellow, all combustible; as ready to fight as eat, at any time, and though con- tinually getting drubbed, as continually forgetting the event in the encounter with a new assailant. He readily undertook the mis- sion, and felt a sort of personal pique against Porgy and his men, as they were supposed capable of inspiring such a person as, him- self with fear. The Sheriff saw the Deputy depart under secret instructions from McKewn, with well founded apprehensions. But he could do nothing to avert the danger. He had only to look anxiously for the progress of events. Of course, he was somehow curious to see how Crooks would fare at Gln-Eberley. Hle knew that the fellow had no fear, and his mind was distracted betwixt two points- "Either he will succeed by boldness, where I failed through timidity, or Porgy and his fellows will do him serious harm.--In either case, should the facts about my visit be blown, what the d-1 will be said of me a" We must leave him to these annoying reflections, and accom- pany our deputy to Glen-Eberley. Mounted on a stout hackney accustomed to official dignity, Crooks made his way, with all dili- gence, to the scene of his anticipated labours. The documents were in his pocket, and? once armed with a formidable parchment, well scored with gothic characters, and made terrific with seals of State, Crooks felt no sort of doubt of the uniform reverence which On ! "EGAL REGIMEN. 505 I he should every where command. Crooks had never served in the warst though pugnacious enough for all sorts of strugge ; and he had no notion of any power which, for a moment, could gainsay or run counter to that o2' the law. The Courts of Law were, to his mind, 'scenes of far more imposing grandelu that any he had conceived of in earth or in heaven-a judge, in gowned black, was a more poten- personage to him than was Rhadamantius to the superstitious among the ancients; and, for a Sheriff, (the ambition of a Deputy, or a Constable, in those days, never dared look so high as this office for himself; it was a stretch quite beyond the vulgar I imagination it the first days of the Republic,) Crooks helc. him in as much veneratmon, or more, than he could hold any General of the army-unless, indeed, General Washington. He was yet to be- come familiar with a feudal Baron, and to comprehend the extent I of his authori-y. ' i He was encountered a- the entrance of the avenue, peecisely as his principal Lad been, by a man in armour. His first salutation was a seizure. He, who had done the seizing hitherto, was, in turn, seized upon. His hackney was suddenly brough; up, by a short jerk, from a man springing out of the covert beside the gate of the avenue. "Who are you?" was the unexpected demand, as the horse was backed upon his haunches, and a pistol held towards the head of the rider. "Who am -?-I'll let you know before you like it. Let go my horse!" "No fooling! 'Who are you,? What are you after here? What's your business!" 'My business is my business, and you'll know it soon enough. By what right do you stop me. Do you want to rob me, you rascal." The words were scarce y out of his mouth before a blow of the fist tumbled him out of the saddle. The horse bouLced; the " page: 506-507[View Page 506-507] 506 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. Deputy rolled over for a moment; and Lance Frampton, for it was he, seized the opportunity to turn the steed into the enclosure. He thus obeyed the instinct of the partisan. He-had captured a horse, and his first measure vas to secure it. The next moment he looked after his prisoner. It was time; Crooks was already on his feet and making towards him. Frampton confronted him with his pistols. Crooks had nothing but his riding whip. This, he shook at his assailant, at a moderate distance. "You shall sweat for this, you rascal. I am an officer of the law. I represent the county. I stand here in the Sheriff's shoes, and resistance to an officer-an assault upon an officer-vi et at- mis,--with swords, pistols, dagger, knife, rifle, blunderbuss and gun, you rascal-is outlawry,-and you shall sweat for it. I tell you I stand here in the shoes of the Sheriff." "You do, do you? and if you stood in the jacket of the Sheriff it wouldn't help you much. Turn in to the avenue, or I'll put a bullet into you. You're my prisoner." "Your prisoner! Was ever the like? and me a Deputy Sheriff!" "Get in, .I tell you; you shall have a fair trial." "Trial! Try me! Who the h-il are you, sir." "Never you mind. Get in, and ask your questions of the Cal- tain." "The Captain! What! you mean Captain Porgy." "Yes! Who else here?? The very man I want to see. I'll go in. It's not because I'm afraid of your pistols, young fellow; I don't care that for'em, (snapping his fingers,) and you shall sweat for showing 'em to me; but I go in to see Captain Porgy. He's my man." "Get in! I don't care what you go for, so that you go!" Lance Frampton sounded his bugle, as the Deputy entered the gate. Crooks went forward, venting his indignation at every step. He was suddenly stopped, midway in the avenue, by another man "EGAL REGIMEN. 5017 in armour. Lance and the new comer saluted, and the prisoner N was formally transferred from the former to the latter. Framp- I ton proceedec. towards the house. Crooks staring at the gigantic figure, and frowning aspect of the new comer, and greatly be- wildered at the odd accimulation of uniform and armour about him, was, however, about to press forward, following his late-as- sailant, when the Corporal suddenly arrested him. "Stand where you a-., fellow, or I'll be into you with some- thing sharper than a baggonet." And he floirished his sabre directly in front of the person of the Deputy. "The devil! What co you stop me for? Do you know who I am and what I've come for." "I've a notion," answered the Corporal, looking ore fierce than ever. "Do you know I am here for the Sheriff; sent here to make a levy of all the lands, rights, titles, hereditaments, goods and chat- tels, niggers ard stock, furniture and apparel, carts, wagons, ploughs, hoes, shovels, and all anc every the implements of this plantation, to take and hold thereof, and make sale thereof, in satisfaction of the judgment in the case of McKewn v..Porgy. Do you hear? Do you understand? And do you dare to arrest and stop me in the prosecution of this, my lawful duty." I "I thought as much!" said Millhouse, with an awful lowering of the brows, and a lurid smile in his eyes.-"I thought as much. And it is sich a little mean copper-headed son of a skunk, that has the Impudence to come here and to seize the rightful property of a gentleman-and one too, who is a rigilar off'cer in the line of ;he army. Pve most a mind to take hold of you and lace your jacket with hickories-I hev'!" "Lace my jacket! Hickories! I dare you. Do your best. But you shall sweat for it. You shall, if there's any law in this land," , E page: 508-509[View Page 508-509] 508 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. "Don't provoke me with your law!" was the reply-" the very word ' law' makes me feel wolfish-thl hair all growing innardly. Law, indeed! Shet up, you little polecat, or Ill mount you with sich a spur as will take all the red blood out of your hide in no time." "I dare you! I defy you! You can't scare me with your big words and your bullets. Give me one of your pistols, and I'm willingAo try a crack with you on the spot." "Yoi aint! Well, ef you warn't a prisoner, I'd let you; but thar's no sense in granting we'pons to a prisoner." "By what right do you make me a prisoner? By what right do you deprive me of my liberty, and stop me in the prosecution of my duty? Answer me?" "Oh! shet up! When did you ever hear that the prisoner was to ax 'the questions? It's you that's to answer, and here comes the Lieutenant. He'll tell you what the Cappin says and what's to be done with you." "Very well! I'll hear." "You'll hev' a fair trial, I promise you." "Trial! Who's to try me? 2 won't go! I'll not submit to any but a lawful court." "And who's to ax you! Well, Lieutenant?" "The Captain says bring the fellow before him." "Come, copper head! march!" and Millhouse, planting himself on one side of the captive, Frampton took his place on the other. "I'll not march! I'll not go! Let the Captain come here to me, if he wants me. I'm far enough on this place for what I've got to execute, and I charge and command you both, and all who hear me, as good citizens--" "Shet up, you bawling warmint!" cried the Corporal, and he accompanied the words by thrusting the rough handle of his sa- bre quite across the jaws of the Deputy. The other turned upon him fiercely, but was brought back, with a jerk, by the hand of "EGAL REGIMEN. 5 09 Frampton, w:o, with a shove, forcibly bade him- go ahead- i on!"At the same moment, he was pricked keenly in the flanks by the tip of Millhouse's sword, .and, looking to the Lieutenant, he saw that of the latter ready to enforce his progress by similar ar- guments. This was sharp practice, and quite new to Crooks. The sweat stood fall on the face of the little fellow; but he still cried out, with a tough spirit,-burning with fury: "Oh! you, shall both sweat for all this." "Oh! very well! That's as it happens. Every man must hev' his turn. But it's for you to sweat first;" and a renewed pricking of tke Corporal's sabre threatened something worse than sweating. "Oh!" groaned the Deputy, as he obeyed the impulse and went forward. Several times he paused, making a new endeavour to hold his ground, and as often was he made to feel the spur. When he reached the house, he was forced up the steps, through the piazza, into the halli then thrust down into a chair, with a han. of each of his attendants upon his shoulder. "We've got him, Carpin!" cried out Millhouse, to Porgy in his chamber. The Cap;ain of Partisans had been reaping the stubble field, ;he autumnal harvests of his chin, which were quite too griesly to be sufferec to offend his own or other eyes. He came forth with coat off, sleeves rolled up, neck bare, and razor in his grasp. Tie moment he beheld the Deputy. he cried out- "Heavens! What a monster! What a horrible looking crea- ture! What a beard. Coppery-red ;-a perfect jungle, and full, no doubt, of all sorts of diminutive beasts. Corporal, we must have that fellkv's beard off." Millhouse absolutely shouted at the idea. "Tom!" roared the Captain. Tom appeared at the door. "Quick, Toml soap and napkin; and take off that horrid beard." Crooks would have boinded from his seat. He prided himself on his beard. It's coppe-y red, apparently so offensive to all about "* I page: 510-511[View Page 510-511] 510 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. him, was to him the perfection of beauty.' It's red he held to be that of roses, and as for the amplitude of it, its wild, wide-spread bushy dimensions, these he stroked a thousand times a day with an affection which may be imagined. 'To lose his beard, even in jest, was almost as bad as to lose his scalp. He now began fe- verishy to apprehend, that with such companions, he should lose both. He leaped up, but was immediately thrust back into his seat by the ready hands of his attendants. "I won't submit to this. I tell you-I warn you-I am an offi- cer of justice. I'm here under the great seal of the State. I'm on official duties. I'm under the sacred protection of the law." "How horridly he shouts! But, with such a beard, what mor- tal man can talk like a human being. You don't understand a word he says, Corporal?" "Not a word! I reckon it's a sort of nigger speech from Africa." "Do you understand the savage creature, Lance." "I reckon's he's crazy, Captain," answered Lance. Truly I think so. He will need a straight jacket. But there's no judging rightly his condition till we take off that brush." "Let's burn it off, Cappin." ' No! no! he may be human, and that might hurt him. We'll shave it off, and then see what he really is. I suspect be belongs to the monkey species-he's an ouran outang ;-you kAow what that is, Corporal." "Hafe man, hafe horse, and two parts alligator, I red in." "You're very nigh the mark. Hurrah, Tom! make haste." Tom made his appearance with basin, towel, soap, &c. The Deputy seeing his danger, and that t e affair was lookirg serious, made another effort to escape from the clutches in whili he was held, and accompanied the effort by a fearful outcry, tolching the terrors of the law. But in vain. "Tie him down. Handkerchief, there, Tom. Secut 3 him, so t * "EGAL REGIMEN. 51l that he may not do himself harm. He is certainly very wild. He must have been only lately caught. Some body must have put these clothes on him by force." While the Captain thus dilated, his assistants busied themselves in securing the Deputy to his seat. His arms were tethered to the back of the chair, which was one of those massive mahogany receptacles so common at that period, and representing a much earlier period in the history of English civilization. The chair was, in fact, modelled upon the times of Elizabeth. Tlus secured, with his head held back, the napkin tucked beneath his chin, Tom approached and proceeded to lay on the lather. The thick soapy mass was thrust ad libitum into mouth and nostrils. The Deputy yelled, but as the soap made fearful progress into his jaws at every opening, he was, per force, content to sputter; ]and sneeze, and kick and writhe. All efforts were unavailing. His captors were resolute in their fun. "Law!" he cried. "Lather!" cried Porgy; and Tom obeyed. Half suffocated, though more furious than ever, Crooks finally yielded, and Tom proceeded th apply the razor. Tom had acquired, in camp, the arts- of the barber, as well as the cook. He was not so dextrous as determined. Crooks saw that it was at his own peril that he writhed, or twisted, or reared his head, or stuck out his chin unnecessarily. Tom would say quietly- "You only guine to wussen yourse'f, buckrah,--ef you is a buckrah-wid you' kickings and cawortings. Better you keep you'self easy, ef you dont want me for slice off you nose." Here was a new peril. Slice off his nose! The loss of the petted beard was a great evil-but to lose his nose alsp, was such as it made him doubly sweat to meditate. "Don't cut off his nose, Tom ;" cried Porgy, with a great air of concern. "This class of animals seldom have much to spare; and the loss of such a member would really disfigure the face ter- ribly." page: 512-513[View Page 512-513] 5-12 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. "Lord, Cappin, nothing could make'such a critter m re ugly than he is," answered Millhouse; "but he could lose ar inch of snout and never miss it. Why, Lord, he's got a nose like a bagg- onet and a-most hafe as long!" Tom, meanwhile, prosecuted his labour with diligence. Ite was a bold cutter. It was all army practice with hinr,-swift, slashing, reckless, not easily stopt by trifling impediments. At every swoop, Crooks found a wide waste of forest growth removed; huge tracts of warm furze disappeared, as the prairie grass in autumn, under the fire. Soon, the entire wilderness of brush was cleaned up. The territory was now smooth, and the ligoit let in upon a region that had not seen the day for half a dozin years. Crooks was no longer the same man; he felt cold about the chin; but his chill greatly increased when he heard Tom ask- "Must tek' off he hair now, maussa? He look berry bad and ugly. I reckin he must be full of warmints." Porgy seemed f6r a moment to meditate the matteri but he waived Tom off. "No! that's enough, Tom, for the present. I think We may now make out the species of the animal." "I'm the Deputy Sheriff-my name's Crooks." "A well known warmint, Cappin. I reckon you mou, as well skin him altogether. Jest you take off the scalp now, rnd we'll be sure to know him next time." "No! no! It is not so much that we may know him, as that he may know us hereafter. I see what he is. Let him go ilow. I reckon he's tame enough for the present. Now, let him have a swallow of Jamaica." "I drink nothing in this house!" cried the Deputy :ising to his feet. "Then you lose the taste of a mighty good dram of liuor." "And I warn you all-all three of you-that you shL answer for this assault and battery. You, Captain Porgy,-I know, you,- ! to .: "EGAL REGIMEN. 513 iand you,-and you,-I will have it all out of you three, if there's any law in the land " ( You won't drink," said Porgy. "Not a drop with you; or in this house." "Will you eat?" "Not a mouthful!" "Then we've done all that we can do for you, unless you desire that Tom should take off that shock. It is unnecessarily thick and long. Can that be hair?" ",Look you, Captain Porgy, I've submitted to your assaults and batteries because I could not help myself." "A mighty good reason too!" -"-But I will have redress. Now, sir, I will do my duty, and here I give you notice, that, in the character of the Sheriff of--" "Boo! woo! woo! woo! Shall I muzzle him, Cappin?" "No! let him go. Depart, my good fellow, while your bones are whole. We have done for you the best we could." I I'll not go until I have made a levy upon all the lands and negroes, the goods and chattels of this estate of G-en-Eberley, under the authority of the papers which I now carry, and which I will read for the benefit-" By this time he had drawn the documents out of his pocket. "Beware how you attempt to read any of those vile heathen documents here," said Porgy, assuming an air of great stern- ness. "State of South Carolina!" began the Deputy. "As surely as you attempt to read that paper, I will make you eat it!" Eat it! I'll eat nothing in this house!" 9, We'll see to that." "State of South Carolina-" resumed the Deputy. "Seize him," cried Porgy-"' seize him 1"' And, in the twinkling of an eye, Frampton caught Crooks in his page: 514-515[View Page 514-515] 514' THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. embrace, and Millhouse set his enormous thumb and f refinger about his neck, and the Deputy was forced back into Lis chair. The paper was snatched by the Lieutenant from his hand "In the name of the State!" screamed the Deputy. "Feed him with it!" shouted Porgy. "I levy and seize, distrein and take possession--" bgan the Deputy at a rapid rate, but his mouth was suddenly fil ed with his documents. The execution was crammed into his jaws,-a part of it at least; and the voice of the Corporal, in ace nts too clear and loud to be misunderstood, advised him wha; to do with it. "Feed or sufficate, you skunk." "You're choking me to death!" "Feed, then! Chaw! Swallow!"And, at every word, -'he Cor- poral plied the unhappy Deputy with a fragment of thl execu- tion. It was in vain that he flounced and floundered strove, kicked, and scuffled with his persecutor. The iron arms of Mill- house were seconded with an equally iron will, and, per fc rce, the victim was compelled to chew and mouth the musty document. "My God! do you mean to kill me?" "Not if good feeding will do it. You love the law, you live on it, and ought to be able to digest it. Give him another mouth- ful, Corporal. It must all be eaten. It is not too much for one meal." With every bit offered, and finally forced upon the Deputy, the same struggle followed, the same unavailing resistance. He was compelled to eat. Nothing but the seal remained. This was not then the fiction which it is in recent times. It was rot then thought quite sufficient to write 'locus sigilli,' and withhold the seal itself. In the present case, this was a goodly circular plate of red wax, of some dimensions. It was now offered to the un- willing feeder. At the sight of it the fellow cried out w'th hor- "EGAL REGIMEN. 515 ror-" I can't eat that! It'll be the death of me. It's got poison in it." ( Ah! Ha! is it so? And do you bring p'ison into a gentle- man's family, and try to sarve it on him. Well, it's only your own medicine, my honey; you must eat it with the rest. The physic of a law paper kaint be good onless the seal goes with it. Bite! Eat! or I'1 -- " But for the -interposition of the Captain, the Corporal would, have persisted in testing to the utmost the capacities of Crooks's stomach. Fortunately, the former was disposed to more indul- gence. "Let him off," said he, " he's had enough. Now give him some Jamaica ;-or, perhaps, you'll prefer an emetic, my good fellow, to produce reaction. I can have you. a little tartar in a second." "No! no!" cried Crooks, with choking accents-- The rum! the rum!" The liquor was poured out for him, and the glass put into his hands; as he was about to drink, Millhouse exclaimed- "Ha! ha! I know'd you'd hev' to come to it at last. You swore you wouldn't eat or drink in this house. You've done both!" The taunt was enough. The Deputy dashed down the untasted liquor, smashing the glass upon the floor. "Curse the house!" he cried, "and all that's in it!" and sha- king his hand in fury, he broke through all restraint, and disap- peared from the apartment. I "After him, boys, and see that he clears out. Attend him to the outposts, Lance! He will hardly- venture back with other documents." i . I - page: 516-517[View Page 516-517] 1 10 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. CHAPTER LIX. M'KEWN AT HOME, AND THE SPECTRE THAT SIPPED HS! PUNCH. THE Captain had not fairly lost sight of the Deputy 'efore he egan to reflect upon the enormity of the offence whicr he had sanctioned and committed. It was not so much that he had out- raged the laws of the land, as that he had violated those of hu- manity. He began to feel ashamed of this, for, when- nt carried away by impulse, he would have revolted at every thing like bru- tality, unless, as in the case of actual conflict in war, it took the form of a necessity. His successful jest with the Sheriff, which had proved harmless, had prompted a renewal of the e )eriment; and, once committed to the joke, he had been hurnied Son by his first impulse, long after the matter had ceased to be mirthful. Though he said nothing of his misgivings to his compf nions, he yet felt very much ashamed of the affair, when the time aad come for reflection. We may add that he did not, on this occasion, ride over to report the adventure to the fair widow. He worl d rather, indeed, that it should not reach her ears from any lips. But it got abroad nevertheless. Crooks, as soon as he could rmount his horse, hurried at full speed over to McKewn's, to whorm, boiling with fury, he described the whole affair. It did not need the ex- aggerations of language to render it hideous. McKewl was se- cretly pleased at the occurrence. It fastened an odium ipon our Partisan. whose patriotic services had otherwise made hlm popu- lar. It left him more at the mercy of his creditor, by depriving him of those sympathies which his distresses would certa' nly have secured for him. But, McKewn did not suffei his secret Thoughts, on this head, to reach the ears of the Deputy. His indignation at the treatment which he had suffered, was expressed in -auguage M'KEWN AT HOME. s17 as warm and violent almost as his own, and, giving him a douceur of five guineas, he c-espatched him, the next day, with a letter to the Sheriff, renewing his demand upon him for the immediate compliance with his duties. The Sheriff was naturally angry at the ill usage of his deputy. There was a great sensation in the city. Pinckney and Parsons, the friends and lawyers of Porgy, were in much confusion. They endeavoured all they could at the arts of soothing. The shaving I of the Deputy they made very light of. Indeed, they affirmed it to be an act of kindness. The procedure, they insisted, had greatly improved Crooks's appearance; but the matter was quite too se- rious to be laughed out of court; and such a suggestion made Crooks, himself, more angry than ever. They found it politic, ac- cordingly, to forbear this mode of treating the affair. The compul- : sory feeding to wh'ch the Deputy had been subjected-the utter scorn and defiance of the law which had been shown by Porgy and his followers-were serious offences against the peace and dignity of the country, which rr-ost persons were inclined to resent. The Sheriff talked of immediate processes of arrest-of the posse comitatus,- of a military force,--and of terrible penalties; forfeitures, and im- prisonments! To gain time was now the object with Porgy's friends, until the plblic indignation should subside; and they brought every possible influence to bear, which might, in any way, effect their purpose. It happened, fortunately, that Marion and Colonel Singleton were both in the city, and both anxiously bu- sied themselves to rescue an old favourite and follower from his difficulties. They appealed to the Sheriff for delay, at least until the affair could be inquired into peaceably. McKewn's debt must' be satisfied, of course ;-for this several -arties were prepared to pledge themselves;-and it was supposed that the hurts of Crooks might all be cured by a sufficient salve in the guise of hush-mo- ney. These matters airanged, the irritated self-esteem of the Sheriff might be soo-hecl, and the damage done to the dignity of 42 page: 518-519[View Page 518-519] 518 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. the laws might be repaired-as is commonly the case in a gooC democracy-by taking no sort of notice of it. With u$, you may pull the nose of the law, at pleasure, but you must b3 preparec to pay well for any such liberty taken with the nose of its officer Crooks, as yet,. was quite unapproachable on the subtect of his wrongs and injuries. It was supposed by Pinckney tha; he woulk continue unapproachable, until beard and whiskers had once more grown out to their former ravishing dimensions. Mea while, all proper efforts should be made to mollify him; and, to effect this) Pinckney prepared himself to run up to Asheepoo, aid see the Captain, in order to bring him to reasonable apologies. These negotiations necessarily occupied some time, during which Glen-Eberley was left free of molestation. The Cor)oral con- gratulated himself that a victory had been obtained. Porgy was less sure and satisfied. He had sobered down from lis late ex- citement, and could see the state of affairs through ;he proper medium. He saw that the time would come when he should pay for his fiolic; but, like most persons of his temperameht, he pre- ferred to postpone the consideration of the affair till th3 last mo- ment-until, indeed it was forced upon him. Winter, meanwhile, was advancing rapidly. The nights of November were becoming very cold. Our Captain of Partisans was now in the ull enjoy- ment of field sports, and was proving himself quite e Nimrod i His corpulence did not seem to lessen his appetite, or aiis vigour in the chase. Arthur Eveleigh, sensible of his fault, hi d become measurably reconciled to the Captain, and he and Lan e Framp- ton met at Glen-Eberley, once a week at least, to hunt. Porgy's sports, however, in the field, did not lessen the numder of his visits to the two widows. He was still, as before-noi to speak disparagingly of the sex in our comparisons-betwixt iawk and buzzard. This homely figure was one frequently in the' mouth of the Corporal, in reference to the attitude of his supericr, though he did not venture to obtrude it upon the ears of the Captain. I'KEWN AT HOME. 519 Both widows still seemed very gracious, and their looks of favour increased the impatience of Millhouse to effect his long cherished object. "You might have either on 'em, I reckon, for the axing;" quoth the Corporal; "though it's cl'ar that the widow Ev'leigh is the most loving critter of the two. It's a needcessity; Cappin, that she should hev' you."' The frequent iteration of this assurance, finally made its im- pression upon our Captain;-but, though half persuaded only, that Mrs. Eveleigh laboured under' the " needcessity" aforesaid, he felt, as a man of honour, that he could not approach her as a suitor, until he had paid her his debt-at all events, have extrica- ted himself from the meshes of the law. "Then,"-he thought;- but it is proper we should not anticipate! Meanwhile, what of the inexorable creditor, McKewn? Housed at his plantation lile the great black spider, to which we have already likened him, surrounded by subtle snares of policy, and sly devices, and meshes of cunning, for taking in and securing the thoughtless flies of humanitv-for making prey of all he could,- he crouched in seeming quiet, most of the time unbeheld, in se- cret crevice, and when seen, seeming only to drowse, in the central circle of his innocent encampment. He was pleasantly satisfied with his progresses. What, with his own art, and Porgy's rash impulses, he felt that he had fairly involved that greatest of all his flies in a mesh from which there was no escape. All of his schemes appeared to prosper. Other victims were in his snares. His money bred as if under the direct management of Mam- mon,-as if Mammon had become his private banker, and deter- mined his loans and enterprises. He had made a good crop, and rice was rising in the' market. He had bought, at moderate prices, a lot of new negroes, from the coast of Guinea, from a virtuous Puritan Captain, of Rhode Island, who had gleaned wonderfully from the gold coast, and whose great grand son, by the way, has j I . -1 page: 520-521[View Page 520-521] 520 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. since shown himself a virtuous abolitionist in the Ser ate of the United States, breathing hate and horror towards the descendants of the very people to whom his philanthropic grand si 'e sold the stolen negroes. All McKewn's speculations seemed to be prospe. rous. All his apprehensions of Mrs. Eveleigh were rel xed in he: continued silence. He had got over his fears of her, n the con. viction which he felt that the seas rolled-forever betwe n himseB and the Squatter, Bostwick-perhaps, rolled over him-; a fate which he preferred for his enemy, and which he rather though; he must have suffered, since he had no reason to doubt of the sa- gacity and fidelity of his creatures, Forbes, Drummond and Bar. ton. Thus, with all his fears at rest, all his fortunes prosperous, all his victims in his meshes, all his enemies hors de combat, Me. Kewn yielded himself up to his pleasures. Shall ndt his sou take its peace at last; shall he not reward himself for long absti- nence and self-denial; shall he not feel hmself in his' place anc power, in due self-atonement for a long and tedious ca eer of sy- cophancy, and base submission to the moods of others? McKewn's best mode of reasoning taught him no higher aim or obler phi- losophy than this. He was prepared now to take his ease at his Inn! He was preparinfg to look about him for a wife, i such as a fortune, great as his, might reasonably command. He would have been pleased to lift the widow Eveleigh into that honourfd station; but the last interview which he had enjoyed with that lady, taught him the utter 'hopelessness of that object-taught hi n farther, that, though she could by no means establish the trun;h legally against him, she was yet morally possessed of evidence the most conclusive of his guilt. He kept heedfully from her sight accord- ingly; while, under a new impulse, young Arthur, whom he had laboured industriously to corrulpt, kept as heedfully froio his. Thus, apparently secure, thus measurably happy-saftsfied with. himself and his successes, or strivitg to be so,- McKew, 1 took his ease at his'plantation, or wore, to other eyes, the appearanice of one M'EWN AT HOME. 521 who did so. He lived well, sought the neighbouring planters, emulated their hospitality, was frequently a visitor abroad, and as frequently entertained his guests at home. He gave good din- ners, indulged in choice wines, and, being a man of the world, who had enjoyed a considerable experience, and was naturally in- telligent, he proved, in most cases, a very excellent companion among the persons whom he was pleased to seek. It was a cold and cloudy day, la-e in November, when a party dined with him. They were all gooc2 fellows, the dinner was served up in excellent style, the wines weie fine, the dessert in good taste, and the enjoy- ment of all parties extreme. They sate' late, they drank freely. It was a bachelor's establishment, and song and story spelled the intervals between the several pledges. Soon, the wines gaxe way. to stronger liquors. Old rum and fiery French brandy, and genu- ine Scotch whiskey took the place, upon the board, of more courtly spirits. McKewn was famous at hot whiskey punch, and felt a sort of national pride and pleasure, presiding, with an antique Scottish bowl before him, of immense size, and the wooden ladle of curious carving in his grasp, and the 1'ttle silver tankard smo- king before each guest, while their lips smacked with delight, and their tongues grew thick with the languag(e of unintelligible com- pliment-the morl grateful as unintelligible. The company dis- persed at a tolerably late hour, going home with no consciousness of dark or danger, shouting as they went, and fortunate in drivers, or horses, who had enjoyed no such pleasant privileges of punch as themselves. McKewn was left alone to his own fancies. He summoned the servants, ordered that the remains of the vessel of punch should be taken into his chamber, and, a fire having been already kindled there, repaired thither himself. The night was dark and cold, but the room was bright and warm. .Too bright, was the thought of McKewn, since he extin- guished the wax candles both, which the negro had left burning, satisfied with the sufficient blaze of the lightwood brands cast 42* page: 522-523[View Page 522-523] 522 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. upon the fire, and of which an adequate supply stood re, dy always in a box upon the hearth. McKewn sate in front of tife fire, his slippered feet presented to the blaze. His sensations ve're deci- dedly comfortable. He was in affluence; his health lvas good; he was yet comparatively a young man; at least on the!unny side of fifty. He might reasonably calculate, according t) existing probabilities, upon a long term of enjoyment. In spite of the awkward doubts in certain quarters, he was able to command good society. If he could not claim entrance into one circle he had a very tolerable refuge in another. He had wealh, and wealth can always buy society, though it may command neither real respect, nor affection, for its possessor. The people who had spe it the day with him were all people of excellent standing. Good fellowship made them flexible. They sneered at McKewn himself but they entertained a very genuine respect for his dinners. Taere were some of them who aimed at something beyond his dinners-who, perhaps, would scarcely have permitted themselves to dine with him but for their occultobjects. These persons had maideL sisters, or daughters, of a rare and virtuous antiquity, whom, for -heir espe- cialelaims to admiration, they desired to see framed in isettings of gold. They pationized McKewn to this end,-no more. The Scotchman readily saw through their schemes, grinneL in secret over their absurdities, but did not discourage those hopes by which he secured himself in good society. Sitting ,by his now solitary hearth, he mused with great complacency, thinking upon these and other matters. The affair of Porgy and thoe Deputy Sheriff had been brought upon the tapis during the day, and had been discussed .with great fiankness on both sides of the question, as is the way commonly with our impulsive plar ters of t1e Parish country. Some of them, most desirous of conciliating McKewn. were loud in their denunciation of the violent and illegal pro- ceedings of the Captain of Partisans. Others chuckled over it as a rare and admirable jest which furnished quite an. excellent ex- i * M'KEWN AT HOME. 523 ample to all future creditors. Others went further, and, moved by very earnest sympathies with the debtor, professed to regard any innovation of a man's household, on the part of a creditor, or his legal representative, to be a most impertinent intrusion, justifying any severity of treatment. McKewn heard all, and smiled in all directions, satisfied, at the close, to say, in a costive manner- "Let him settle with the Sheriff as he may, gentlemen; he will have to settle with me! He may struggle, but can't escape l me. In three months, at least, there will be an end of him, and the jest will be on the other side. They always laugh who win; and if the loser has the mood to laugh, why, we may safely suffer him to indulge it." And it was with this conviction of ultimate conquest,-the final overthrow of his insolent debtor-that McKewn would chuckle to himself, sipping at his whikey punch the while. Of this popu- lar beverage, whose virtues lie always below the surface, and pene- trate much more than skin deep, McKewn had a snug silver pitcher, long necked, of vase fashion, and silver lidded, standing conveniently beside him on a table ;-moderate measures were poured out as he wanted it, into the tumbler beside him. He stirred and sipped, and, tumbler still in hand, drew nigher to the blaze; and, after a little while, and as his feet began too much to warm before the fire, he threw them up against the mantelpiece, throwing them wide apart, so that the whole panorama of the fire, the smouldering ruins, the blazing piles, were all present to his eye through the frame work of his parted thighs. His head was cast back, the lids of his eyes drawn down; he watched the fire as through a microscope, taking in its small details. His chair, a heavy one o- mahogany, with a great back, was nicely balanced on its hind legs. The tumbler, half filled with the grate- ful beverage, was as nicely balanced in his hands. His mind had reached that condition of repose which brings about pleasant reve- ries. McKewn saw his future through a-agic medium. His page: 524-525[View Page 524-525] $24 . THE SWORD AND THE DISTAN. enemies were overthrown, his course was triur phant, i is wealth underwent hourly increase, the magnates of the land were sub. servient, he himself had become a magnate; and his eve had only to determine which of the several beauties at his service; he shoul. choose, to make his world an Eden. Happy McKewn! The Fates are busy always to beguile with pleasant augvries thos! whom they would involve beyond their depths. Somnetimes, speck would appear suddenly on the face of Lis magii mirror, L slight cloud pass over it; a lurid flash, and he could fa icy distan, thunder-in other words, images of Porgy and the widow Eve. leigh, and the hateful Bostwick, and other persons, would recall tq him suddenly a train of subjects suggestive of fear or difficulty but McKewn found it easy to disperse these obtrusive shadows$ simply by a renewed appeal to the warm whiskey punch beside him. It was surprising how soon, after this application, the speed and cloud would disappear from the magic mir"or whica his fancy had polished so well for his contemplation. Thus sittirg, musing dreaming, in that doubtful sort of consciousness which seems to be equally distant firom absolute sleep or waking, McKewn though; he beheld the waving of an arm and hand before his half shu- eye. He fancied that some one had taken up the beaker of punch which, having sipped a little of the contents, he had just set down. But his energies were fast yielding beneath the sluggish happi- ness of his dreamy mood, and, though somewhat conscious of t movement, and even of a sound, he dismissed it as a natural sugges- tion of his reverie itself, and never turned his head. A momen; may have elapsed, or more, when, suddenly, a hand wms laid hea- vily upon his shoulder. He unclosed his eyes, and s-.ared. li was paralyzed. Was it true-was it a dream? Did he really be- hold the infernal squatter, Bostwick, once more?--of wasit his drowned, thrice damned, and ever haunted ard hauniing ghost, emerging from the depths of the green sea, and following him om the mission of the furies! Was it the hand of a spectre or *% HOW THE SQUATTER MADE THE VOYAGE TO THE W. INDIES. -525 living man that still rested upon his shoulder. Was there mortal speculation in those fiery red eyes that now stared terrifically down into his? CHAPTER LX. HOW THE SQUATTER MADE THE VOYAGE TO TIE WEST INDIES. INs the sight of McKewn nothing could be more distinct, more life-like than the spectre. He looked just as he had seen him a thousand times before; the same great red staring eyes, the same expression in the face, of a mixed savage and cunning nature, sly at once and desperate; the same small but sinewy figure; the same lounging, slovenly carriage; the same person altogether, except, perhaps, that each vicious quality of his face was exagge- rated; the grin upon his mouth was more satyr-like; his eyes were blood-shot; his cheeks mottled with the long continued habit of intemperance: his skin bronzed to a copper, yet flushed as with the hues of a warm sunset. Was he indeed a spectre? Had the grave given up the dead? Had the seas thrown up their victim? Did the spectator really dream or not? McKewn closed his eyes, and again opened them, thinking the fearful pre- sence might then be gone. There it stood, and he could no long- er doubt the solid pressure of its grasp upon his shoulder. The Scotchman was paralyzed. Dead or living, the appearance of Bostwick was now a terror. McKewn was almost in a state of collapse. The cold sweat had silently streamed out upon his face, his neck, his breast, his whole body. His feet, thrown up against the mantle-piece, sank down to the floor nerveless; his lips parted, but not for speech; only in silent consternation. \ }H page: 526-527[View Page 526-527] 526 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. But his frozen gaze never once fell from that o- his fear ful visitoi There, in utter silence, the one stood, the other sate, i gazing full upon each other. Bostwick seemed to take a malignant pleasure in fixing and fastening the other's eyes, as if with a serpent's fa. cination. After a little while he slowly withdrew his! hand, and coolly turning to the table, filled himself a stoup of tie whiskey punch from the silver vessel, into the tumbler which McKewn had used, and swallowed the contents at a. single G ulh Hi laid the tumbler down, then extended his open palm- "That hundred guineas, McKewn!" The spell was broken as he spoke. McKewn began to recover. "Why, where have you been all this time, 1ostwick?" ; "Where did you reckon I was? In the bottom of the sea?- In h--ll's blazes, didn't you, and warn't you mighty glad to think so? But h-ll ain't hot enough for either on 's yit, aidd when I had my last talk with the devil, he promised me, as 'ow, when he did come for me, he'd take you at the same tim3. But he don't want us yit. He's got more work for both on us, on this airth. You was intirely wrong, McKewn, in trying to git rid of me. You kaint do without me, no more than I kin Ido without you. We're born for each'other, and we've got to work together a long time to come." "But where have you been?" "Better not aix! Not edzactly whar you wanted me to go,but jest on the edge, as I may say. I looked in at the coor, didn'l like the looks of it, the 'commydations they offered me, and turned short round. It was a question whether I should go in or your friends, Drummond, and Barton, and Forbes, -he Capain, or me. I reckon'd the lodgin's would better suit them than r e, so I let them take my place. They're gone with the despatches y0u made out for me." ' "What do you mean? What despatches'" i "Oh! you knows jest as well as me, what it was -70o1 meant HOW THE SQUATTER MADE THE VOYAGE TO THE W. INDIES. 527 them to do for me. But the devil, he come to my 'help, and made thesarvice cl'ar. They got the preference, and I gin up my place to'em." "What place? Where are they?" "In h-11, ef you wants to know; they'll never trouble you nor me no more. The devil put the ch'ice afore me-either them to burn or me to drown, and I didn't want three minutes to con- sider. I know'd they'd have to git usen to fire in time- to come, so I thought the sooner they began to 'arn the feel of it, the bet- ter for them." "In the name of God, Bostwick, what do you mean? What have you done " "You're mighty slow to onderstand, these times. That's from heving such a world of money. What should I mean? Your friends took me out to sea-" "Is it possible! Took you to sea!" "Shet up, and don't lie to me. 'Tain't no use, McKewn.' I know you like a book. We knows one another. 'Twarn't on sea that they were the good fellows they was on land. When we was in the 'castle,' and under the green trees, we was friends, and all on equal tairms. We played cards together, and sometimes they dreaned me, and sometimes I dreaned them. At sea, the natur' changed. I was a man of the woods; they made me a man of the sea. I could climb trees; they made me climb ropes'. It was no play thar'; all work; they didn't wait to win my money, by a fair seven up. They tuk it from me by main strength of hand.- Then I got the cat! The cat! You knows, I reckon, what they calls the cat?" McKewn professed to be ignorant. "You've got to l'arn it. I've promised Old Nick to do his work, on the very condition that, when he gits us both, he lets me treat you to the cat every night; so that you may lie down with a sartain softness in your feelin's, that ain't altogether sweet- page: 528-529[View Page 528-529] Oar -S THE SWORD AND THE DISTAF F. ness. That cat which they gin to me has lef; its claw-narks qn every inch of my back and body But that warn't enlu f,1 'em. When they got right off the place called Barbcdoes, thei holds a counciltation over me. What's to be done w'th me-i what's to be done for you-and they 'grees 'mong -heir thrte selves, that the best thing for both on us, is to send re over into the sea, to look after the great whale that swallowed Jony, the Philistian prophet-" "Impossible! Did they really mean to--" "Oh! shet up. Lying won't do 'twixt us, 'kaise, yu) see, we knows one another, McKewn, and we've got to work together, by solemn contractings, fpr the old horned satan. Well that' was the land, jest-off thar'; and the night was a-comin' o , and the sea was deep, and the shirks was a-playing about, anld looking upwards to the ship with all-fired hungry noses. An', tfhe coun- ciltation of Foibes, and Drummond, and Barton wet ion; and they said'these poor shirks must be fed; and this 9oor Bost- wick will give 'em mighty good feeding for a time; and when he's gone, we'll get the hundred guineas fromn McKe; n, in place of him, and we must git shet of him to-night: and so the coun-. ciltation went on. But the devil stood my friend, and hb hid me where I could hear all the counciltation; and when the- had done I he said to me-' Now, Bost, whether you're to drown, o' they to burn. It's for you to choose. Thar's the sea, and them's the shirks a-waiting for your supper; and the moon goes d wn about midnight, and then it's for you to try the cold feel of tLe water, and see how deep it is, and find out ef thar's any big whale to take you in, like Jony, the Philistian prophet, and save you from the shirks. Ef you waits to choose ontell the midnight, the wa- ter's your portion, and the bottom of the sea, whar' thar's no bot- tom. And when the brigantine goes up to the town in tLe morn- ing, they'll report one Bostwick, fell overboard :ast night and lost, from taking too much liquor.' It's a blessin that tLey gin me, THAT HUNDRED GUINEAS. 529 none, and I was sharp as a bag'net. Says the devil-' thar's one way to git out of the danger.' And he showed me three kegs of gunpowder where they were stowed away; and he told me, what was mighty cur'ous to me to l'arn, that ef that gunpowder only happeh'd to git the leetlest taste of the fire, it would fly like old blazes, and carry every body up into heaven. That was mighty cur'ous, Hthought; and he show'd me further, how a thing mout be managed, called 'a train,' and how a man, setting in a boat outside of the ship, might jest touch the fire to the train, push off, and see the ship sail up in the air, much quicker than she ever sailed through the water. Well, you see, I thought that was better'sport than to take the water myself, and s'arch after Jony's whale; and, with the help of Old Horny, I tried it; and, sure enough, I off she went, ship and all, and the three counsulters,.and a small t claince of pussons more; and the people found me on the beach, and who knows how I got thar'? They said I was blowed thar' by the gunpowder;-and now, McKewn, that ere hundred guin- eas!" CHAPTER LXI. THAT HUNDRED GUINEAS! IT was easy for McKewn, even with this hurried and imperfect statement of the Squatter, to gather the whole history of his en- forced voyage, and the horrible catastrophe by which it was termi- nated. The cold and savage deliberation with which it was de- livered, did not, however, produce any of those revolting and crush- ing sensations in the mi id of the hearer, which might have arisen in that of any person of sensibility. McKewn, like his compan- 43 page: 530-531[View Page 530-531] 530 THE SWORD AND THE. DISTAFF. ion, was callous and cold-blooded; of so rank a selfiiress, that sensibility had long since ceased to oppose any barrieril to cupidi-. ty; and whose shows of humanity-shows only-were ,simply em- ployed in deference to society, and with the Iview the better to promote the objects in his'desire. Instead of shudlering and shrinking at what he heard, he was employed in recovering the subdued and scattered forces of his mind, in' order to encounter the struggle which the reappearance of the Squatter necessarily threatened. He knew the fellow too well to suppose tha; he should get off without a conflict, and felt that he was too well iunderstood by him, to render available any of the ordinary arts of n rnposition. The terms upon which they stood, in regard to each other, were such that neither found it of any use to affect virtues hich he did not possess. They had only to treat of crime and itS reward, as of any matter of legitimate business. Any declarat-ons of sur- prise, any avowals of good faith, or sympathy, would, he well knew, be utterly wasted on the ears' of a person who knew him quite too well to be imposed upon any longer. i Accord' ngly, with a manner the most unconcerned, McKewn, after a brief pause, re- marked- "And that was the way you got rid of them?" , Yes; jest so. It was short an I quick, and we had T o quarrel. It-was a private counciltation on both sides, hem three on one side, and Old Horny and me on t'other. They were three to two, but we were a little too much of a match for 'em. It turhed out fa- mous well for me. The people of Beabadoes raised a s i'scription for-me, and that filled my pockets, and I got home with a free pas- sage, and did'nt hev' any much work to do; though I ida a leetle to please the Cappin. 'Tain't quite four days sence I got to Charles- ton, and I pushed up here knowing -you'd be mighty glad to hear of your friends, and how you wouldr't hev' to fill thei: pouches any more.; I reckon it's a great gain to you, the loss of them men." THAT HUNDRED GUINEAS. 531 "Gain! It's a loss to me of thousands. I owned one third of ,that vessel and cargo. I owned sixty-nine of the negroes in her." ( Diccance! -I'll hev' to 'low their valley out of the amount you owes me, then. It's only fair! 'Let me see : thar's what you owed, me afore I wen; to sea; we'll reckon that at a thousand guineas; thar's the carrying me to sea, ag'in my will, and only to pleasure you; that I vallies at five thousand guineas more, and cheap at that, I tell you; but ,we'll say five thousand-that's six thousand. Then, thar's the scare I had from the shirks and the driownlng, all on your account; that ought to be a thousand guin- eas more; then, thar's the selling my soul to the Old Horny, to get out of the hands of tLem fellows. A friee white man's soul ought to be worth sonething, and we'll call it a thousand guineas more; that makes eight thorsand; then, thar's the onhappiness I had to skyrocket them three good fellows to heaven; that was a great onhappiness, and I vf,lley my sufferin's mighty high; but we'll say two thousand guineas more; and that, in round numbers, will be ten thousand guineas; and, out of that, I'l to 'low for them I sixty-nine niggers of your'n that went up in the skyrocketting. I reckon they mout be vallied at fifty guineas apiece:- how much is that in all? Count up, McKewn, I'm guine to 'low you for all." "' -Pshaw! What are you talking about?" "What em I talking about? I'll tell you, and you may jest pick your ears that you may hear it plain. Thar's an account of life and death to settle atween us, McKewn, that may be settled up with money, ef you've the sense to onderstand what's best for you. You'll pay it out of your pocket, ef you're sensible; ef you're a fool, it comes out of your heart. To pay for it in money, won't drean your pocket; to pay for it in blood, will go nigh to drean your body of all it's got. I knows what I savs. I knows that I kin hang you jest when.-I pleases, and I don't owe you any . love that I should keep my hands off. -But I kin sell my hate and my love together. Everything I've got is to sell, ef so be I'm page: 532-533[View Page 532-533] 532 THE SWORD ND THE DISTAFF. well paid for it; and you must buy from me at myl prices, or I'll bankcorrupt you, as they calls it. You'll hev' to feed me and, find me, me and my fam'ly, my wife and my children, est so long as you lives and we lives; and you'll hev' to feed us uwh; and to begin, I'm a-wanting jest one hundred guineas to-nig t, and next week, I'll be a-wanting, prehaps, a hundred more. PIbi guine to buy property; I'm guine into a speckilation for the good of my fam'ly. You hear it all. I put it plain before you. t's jest for you to say whether it's peace or war; fair tarms or fou-; money or blood!" :' ! This was all plain .enough, delivered in a manner the most downright and direct, the Squatter confronting the Scotchman at the distance of a single pace, and his hand flourishing st moments in the very face of the latter. When he hac finishec speaking, he again turned to the whiskey punch, unasked, and repeated h] draught. - McKewh listened with chilled sensations. He understood but too well the existing terms between himself aidl his enemy. lHe saw that nothing had been exaggerated in the speech of the Squatter. The latter truly had him at his mercy; fnd he felt that he was destined to continued exactions, so long at 3ostwick or himself should live. - There was no evasion of the inhbrance, and the time was gone by, utterly, when the employee could be put off or deceived. He had no remaining subterfuges against a foe so wily. and so well-informed in respect to his character.- Meanwhile, the Squatter seemed to amuse himniself surveying the apartment, which was large, lofty, highly finished, richly hung with drapery, and with fine pictures hanging against the walls.- A sabre, between a pair of silver mounted pistols, Was among these decorations. The Squatter's eye took in all." 4"You're -a-living like a fighting cock, McKeWIn," said ie. with a \ degagee air that was quite distressing to the Scotchman, adnd served I to increase his irritation. "Now, I'm a-wanting to live easy and ^ ** * THAT HtNDRED GUINEAS. 5-33 like a fighting cock, too, but don't you think I'm a-wanting to hev' sich fine things in my cabin. They doesn't suit sich as me, and ag'in, I doesn't care to hev' 'er. WhlatI wants is a sartainty for myself, and for Dory. That's all; and the sartainty must be a respectable one., A nice little house and farm, and, prehaps, two or three niggers to work in the field, and an old woman to cook, and a gal to be a sort of waiting-maid to little Dory." To this, McKewn only answered with an "Ah!--Well!--Yes!" but his eyes followed the movements of the Squatter with an in- tensity of interest which gave them a wild expression. Mean- while, though stalking about, with',an air of inebriate hardihood and indifference, that seemed to be heedful of nothing, the Squat- ter niight be seen to keep a furtive watch 'on the Scotchman, which never suffered the slightest movement to escape hir ; but this was not perceptible to McKewn. Highly excited by hIis own reflections upon the desperate bondage in which he felt himself placed, the usual vigilance of this cool and subtle strategist was greatly lessened. H' is passions served to blind him somewhat at the very moment when every faculty should have been most acute- ly sharpened and observant. His thoughts, under the influence of these passions, were of a sort to madden him. Was there no es- cape from the arrogance of this enemy? Was he. to be plagued perpetually without any hope of relief? Was he forever tobe made to fear for his secret, particularly now, when, this danger quieted, his position in life was so grateful, and might become al- together triumphant. It was past midnight. The house was quiet. The servants were all retired and asleep. Nobody had seen the Squatter enter. Nobody knew of his visit. The rain was falling heavily; the winds beat sullenly against the shutter. Wight and storm were auxiliaries to a deed of blood. Why should he not quiet the foe forever, by a single blow? Why not, by one sudden, desperate deed, relieve himself forever from this haunting, harrpwing arrogance; this perpetual danger, which promised never 43* . page: 534-535[View Page 534-535] 534 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. to suffer him to repose in security . His eye rested upon the pis- tols which hung upon the wall. They were both leaded, he knew-charged with a brace of bullets. They were such as he could well rely on. The suggestion coursed rapidly through his mind. It grew in force; it ripened to conclusion; it became a re- solution. in a moment, he sprang to his feet, whirled aside the great chair upon which he had been sitting, and darted towards the pistols. But, resolute as was his determination, secret and sudder of pur. pose, and prompt of execution, he was too late. Thd Squatter knew his man, had suffered none of his movements to escape him, and when McKeewn stretched out his hand to grasp the, weapons, upon the wall, he encountered the avenger. Bostwick stood be. tween, and, instead of arming himself, McKewn found a pistol at his own breast. "Keep quiet, now, McKewn, and git back to your easy chair. It is not your time yit, nor is it mine. I don't want to hlurt you, but I knows you, and will jest keep a p'inter upon your rmotions, 'tell I has my axings." "Devil? Would you murder me? Would you drive me to madness?" ; "Well, twarn't good -sense in me to be doing either one, so long as I gits what I wants by easy means. But, rether thlan not git it, I'd kill you soon enough, and drive you to the devil, and to mad- ness, and eny whar' you choose, and not sp'ile my appetite in do- ing it. Set you down, I tell you, and don't be making yourself a ridickilous figger'!" "What is it you want?" was the demand of McKewr, half-- moved to rush upon the fellow in defiance of the pistol. "Well, that's a foolish question arter all I've been a-teling you. I wants a leetle of my rights. To begin-a hundred glineas, which I must hev' this very night." "That's impossible. I don't keep money in the countr ." THAT HUNDRED GUINEAS. u535 "That's nothing to me. You must find it, I don't quit- you, McKewn, till I gits the gould guineas, one hundred on 'em, in this very hand. Set you down quiet, and think over the different draws, or holes, whar' you hides away your yallow birds. As for gitting at the pistols, while I has a pair on 'em myself, cdammed to the muzzle with bullets, that's onpossible, and you knows it.- Set down quiet, and think over what you hev' to do. I'll give you time for the thinking." McKewn drew back submissively, and sank into the seat again. As he did so, the Squatter took down the pistols from the wall and stuck them into his belt. "It's only a removing the temptation from your eyes." ! i This done, he began to pace the room languidly as before, at times humming the words and air of a song of vulgar inde!pend- ence, then quite popular among the whigs, but the words of which have only in part descended to our times. "I've no money. I've no lands, Yet I carry honest hands, And 1 fear no Lord's commands. Let him thunder as he may,- I've the strength to do my part, Strong of arm, and stout of heart, And I do not care---" Here McIKewn's voice broke in upon that of the singer. "And if I give you. this hundred guineas, Bostwick, are you prepared to deliver up those papers in the box of Mrs. Eveleigh?" "Not edzactly! You don't git them delivered, McKewn, tell you plank down one hundred more guineas, on the nail, and I'll ixpect you to do that very thing by the middle of next wee-c." The Scotchmian again started up in a fury. "Easy, McKewn ; take it easy, and it'll be so much the *better for your narves. You're flurried and thar's no use for it. Don't you see, now, that you hev' to come to it. Thar's no gitting off." page: 536-537[View Page 536-537] 536 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. MfcKewn groaned aloud; then turning to the silvte flagon which had held the punch, he proceeded, with tremblig hands, to pour its contents into a tumbler. I "That's right! It'll steady your narves. I'm only afe'ar'd I've left you too small a sup!" - I "Yes!" quoth McKewn, quickly. "I'll step down stairs and get a fresh supply, You'll be wanting more also." j "Quiet, McKewn. You doesn't leave this room ortell I gits my guineas." I And, with the words, the Squatter coolly locked the jWor, and put the key into his pocket. i! "Damnation, man! Do you mean to make me a p isoner in my own house?" "Ohl psho! shet up! What made it your house Uanhy more than mine? Only bekaise you had better skill in rogue' i. Ef I goes: out here onsatisfied, McKewn, your house goes to the devil and you 'long with it! Dont you onderstand yit, that kin tear you out of it, by the hands of Johnny Ketch, the b'iorn rope- stretcher. Be sensible, and git the guineas; and then, 'ou may git the drink." McKewn resumed his seat, and sternly-regarded his persecutor, no longcer concealing, or seeking to conceal, the venomo6: hatred of his heart, betraying itself, without disguise, in every afetature of his face. . Well," said Bostwick, "you're looking now more- ]honest-like than I've seed you for many a day. You'll be lettinil me hev' those guineas, I see. That's the right oense. You hev' n? chaince, McKewn. I'm a-top of you this time!t" The words were those of truth and soberness, however Astrange, coming from such lips. M- cKewn felt them to be so. i He had been put in check, at every point of the game, and to avoGiFl check- mate it was necessary to sacrifice a few pawns. HoweiTr reluc- tant to receive this conviction, it came to him at last. ' 'It i i THAT HUNDRED GUINEAS, 537 "You shall have the guineas; but I must have the box of pa- pers." "All in good time! It'll take a hundred guineas more, I tell you, McKewn, afore you gets them papers." 4 "And when am I to have them?" "Next week, when I wants the other hundred guineas." "And then?" , : "Well! What then?" : "Am I then to be rid of you forever?" . "Forever's a long time, McKewn, and I kain't quite answer; but I rether think you'll never be rid of me; for, as I teWl'd you, COld Horny lias promised that we shall keep together all the time, work together on this airth, and go to him together; and when thal "--pointing downwards--"I'm to give you a leetle taste of that same cat that has left its claw marks all over my mortal body." 7 ' "Pshaw 1" "You may .' pshaw' as much as you please, but I tell you,- whether I seed or haird, or only dreamed it, I kaint say,-but as I'm a living sinner, I think, I seed the devil in his own nateral shape; something more than a human, 'something less ttian a beast-a mighty fearsome sort of cross between a big man and a wild animal, nara one nor t'other edzactly, and looking a heap like both, and talking like a man, so that I could onderstand; and he te!l'd me the same words I tell you, which was-' lost- wick, when I comes for you, I'll call for McKewn at the same time. You're bound to come together.' Thar! believe it as! you choose, only git me the guineas!" "And if I now give you a hundred guineas-" ("Next week another hundred." "You will then give me up the papers, and-rid me forever of your presence?" . . . ? page: 538-539[View Page 538-539] 538 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. "That last thing, McKewn, you see, ef the devil speaks truth at all, is quite onpossible; and I ain't the man to fly in the face of the devil, and say I won't see any of his friends. I reckon I'll hev' to see you whenever I wants money; but after them two hundred guinea I'll give you a long rest-may be forlsix months or more." McKewn reflected, and determined to leave the proaised secue rity, for the present, to the chapter of chances. To gain time is the great object with every politician whom a stubborn necessity threatens to gravel. McKewn had a faith in a sort of devil pro- vidence. Ite m ditated to himself-- "If I can get the papers out of him, and be sure of six months forbearance, much may be done-much may happen i: that time. I shall not always be locked up and weaponless, in a close room. The pistols need not always be upon the wall. He may be found napping in turn. In that is my hope." Aloud- "You shall have your hundred guineas Bostwick, now; and next week, when you bring me the papers, you shall liave anoth- er hundred." "That's being sensible, I say." But 1 must then be rid of you. Remember that!' Well! That's jest as it happens, McKewn. I'm siire it's not you I wants to see any time, and ef you kin find out the way to fill my hand with the gould chickens when I wants 'err, I'd never darken your door in a hundred years of Sundays. But quick, McKewn; I've got a stretch of bad riding to do yit l;efore day- peep." "The money is in that .chest," said the Scotchme n, as if to himself. He crossed the room towards the chest whic stood in the opposite corner, stooped, and prepared to open it. The Squat- ter's vigilance did not desert him. His reflections were of this sort-unuttered, of course. THAT HUNDRED GUINEAS. 539 !"He's got other we'pons in that chist, prehaps; other pistols, loaded with double bullets. He don't catch this weasel asleep this time 1" McKewn opened the chest, which [ontained a variety of things. There was money-gold and silver in an open box;-there were t: inkets of value, several large pieces of plate,--and, sure enough, conspicuous over all, a splendid pair of pistols, easy at hand, ready for use. The hand of McKewn hung indecisively over the open chest. There was the gold on one side, there the pistols on the other. The fingers clutqhed one of the pistols. He raised his head cautiously, and cast his eyes upward. -The Squatter stood immediately over him, with the muzzle of his own formidable pistol staring him in the face. Bostwick, stealthy as a wild cat, had crept behind him, weapon in hand, and was peeling down into the chest, ready for any event. He laughed aloud, as he saw the action of the Scotchman. "T'wont do, McKewn! This weasel never sleeps when he's in the fowl-house." McKewn quietly laid down the weapon heb had grasped, and gathered up the gold. The signs in his horoscope were not then friendly. lie must wait events-have patience, and look to another shuffle of the cards. The money was counted out, paid and received. "Look for me next week, McKewn, and be ready with the other hundred. "And see that you bring the papers; for I tell you, Bostwick, if I die for it, you get not another shilling till I have the papers." "You shill hev 'em, and the account will then be squared be- tween us, of all that happened before you shipped me for the shirks. But after that, we must have new reckonings." "D -n his reckonings!" exclaimed McKewn, after he was gone. "Once deprived of those papers, and I do not fear him. His evidence will not be worth a straw in any court." ";si ." page: 540-541[View Page 540-541] 540 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. The Squatter again popt his head sudde ly into the chamber- "I'll leave your pistols for you, McKewn, outside the door, down stairs. But shan't we hev a sup of that same liquor togeth. er afore I leave you." "Begone,--no!" The Squatter grinned only- "Well, good night, McKewn; what's left of it!" CHAPTER LXII. THE SQUATTER IN HS CABIN. -THE Squatter did not show himself to any other eyes that night. He did not proceed to the cabin where his wife And chil- dren dwelt. He housed himself in the swamp with Lis secret treasure. He found this safe. His fastnesses had not been found out[; his box of guineas and papers had been undisturbed, in the same condition as when he left it. Crouched in the hollow of the cypress, he slept over it, and did not emerge the next day till the sun was high in the heavens. Then he issued forth, and stood still, in the shelter of the woods, but upon the dry land. He made his way to the spring which, about a quarter of a mile from his dwelling, supplied his family with water. This was one of those sweet, secret, unobtrusive basins,.issuing modestly from the earth just on the edges of the swamp, such as form a peculiar feature in our forest country; a little hollow, with clear white sand at the bottom, and a grassy fringe all about it, with the waters gushing out silently from a couple of small eyes in the bankside. Shaded by great trees of the forest, it was always cool, and with a tolerably rapid course to the swamp, it was always clear and pure. The Squatter knew where to look for THE SQUATTER IN HS CABIN. 541 the calabash, the cup of gourd, hanging from a bough of the tree just over it. He dipped and drank,-drank deeply of the deli- cious waters,-then stooping, bathed his head and neck in the running stream. This done, he threw himself down among the trees beside it, with an air of exhaustion and languor quite un- wonted in his usual habit. In truth, his appearance was that of a diseased and almost deranged man. His face burned with fever, his eyes were bloodshot and promiuent, almost seeming to start from his head; his mouth lay open, and he panted with the least exertion. As. he walked, his motion was unsteady, and his limbs tottered beneath him. He rose, after a little while, again drank, and again dipped his head into the waters. Scarcely had he left them, once more retiring among the trees, when his keen ear detected the sound of approaching voices. His instincts at once prompted him to hide himself; which he did without effort, among the shrubs near at hand. Very soon he beheld the persons of the intruders. These were no other than young Arthur Eveleigh attending his own pretty daughter. Dory, whom he had not seen before now, since his return, was wonder- fully improved. She had grown evidently taller in six months.' She was now at that interesting period of life when the girl may be said to glide into the woman. She was precocious, and her air and manner were in advance of her years. She had caught up quickly, in her occasional visits to Mrs. Eveleigh, the graces of a higher splere of life that, that to which she belonged, and it was with a natural pride that the eye of the Squatter beheld the mixed ease, simplicity and animation of her movements. Her features were as beautiful as ever; her form showed to more ad- vantage in the better costume which the widow had provided her; the lively flashing of her eye, and the clear, silvery, flute like accents of her voice, declared pure happiness of the heart, such as she had seldom before betrayed in the sight of her father. At the first sight of his child, the heart of the Squatter bounded " ' page: 542-543[View Page 542-543] O4 i THEiS SWOKD AND TIIE DISTAFF. within him, with a pleasurable and exulting sensation. She was his/ She was the only one, perhaps, of all his household, who had somehow found the way to his rugged and spasmodic affec. tions.. But, after a few moments, the natural selfishness of a bad heart suggested that the girl had improved in grace, beauty, health, and showed improved fortunes, and joy, ancd hope, and animation, though lie the father had been a wanderer,-though he had been tossed about wearily in distant lands, in dread, and strife, and danger,-and, for allshe knew, might be dead, drown- ed, or sacrificed with brutal ferocity to the vengeance of his ene. mies. For a while the bitter feeling inspired by this reflection predominated over all others. But this disappeared when he looked upon Arthur Eveleigh, and witnessed the lively interest which that young man seemed to take in his beautiful child. Dory carried a bucket, with which she designed to bring water from the spring. It was not a large or w!ghty. vessel, but Ar- thur would have snatched it from her, and carried it himself, but she refused and. jerked it away, an, laughing sportively at his attempts, darted frdm him, fying like a fawn, and, reaching the spring:before him. He, of course, pursued, and a playful strug- gle took place at the spring as to who should fill the bucket. "Not you, Arthur!" said the child, keeping always in mind the superior social position of her cornpanion. 'But why not, Dory? I'm the ablest, the strongest, aid it's not right that a girl like you should do such thingrs. I will fill it." "Well, you may help me. I'll fill it half, and you shall fill the other." "Very well; but I want some to drink, Dory, You fill the calabash for me, and '1ll fill it then for you. You want to drink, I suppose?" "Yes! i'1l do that! There!" and she handed him the simple gourd filied with the sweet and sparkling waters. le insisted that she should drink, but she refused resolutely, - THE SQUATTER IN HS CABIN. 543 and he did not press it, but satisfied his thirst, threw away the water remaining in the cup, stooped, rinsed it in the running stream, then dipped up a fiesh supply of water. His carriage was gently solicitous, fond and playful, but studiously considerate and respectful. Betweerl them the bucket was filled finally, but not in the shortest possible time. They prattled, the girl and boy, over every gourd of water which they lifted up; and when they were done, Arthur seized upon the bucket and proceeded to bear it off. "Oh! you must'nt, Arthur; mother will be vexed if she sees you doing such work." "Work, indeed! why it's nothing to me, Dory, to carry'it." "Yes, but I can't let you; mother will think it's unworthy of you." And she'seized upon the handle, but Arthur refused to yield it. In pullingopposite ways, the water began to spill; then, as by mutual consent, the two set the vessel down, and suddenly, before Dory could suspect his purpose, Arthur had seized her about the waist, and bestowed a sudden kiss upon her burning lips. "Oh! Arthur, you promised me you wouldn't do, so again." "Well, why did you fight with me for the bucket, Dory," was the pert reply of the boy. "I didn't fight with you. You know I ought to'carry it. Mo- ther-" Oh! don't tell me about your mother. You are always talk- ing as if she was the greatest scold in the world.. Now I know she never scolds you at all. So, no more of that, Dory. You take one side of the handle, and I'll take the other, and we'll carry the bucket so together." The compromise was acceptable, -and the two disappeared with their burden, prattling away all the secrets of their young hearts, never once dreaming who had been the listener. When they were gone, the Squatter fell into a fit of musing, in spite of his page: 544-545[View Page 544-545] e544 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. feverish and suffering condition, for be now, himself, felt that he was really ill. i "Ef he would marly her now, she'd desarve it. She's a most beautiful and blessed looking child as I ever did see. She's beau. tiful and sweet enough to be the wife of any man. But 'tain't possible that sich a thing could happen. His mother would be agin it. When he grow'd a little older and more knowing, he'd be agin it. People would talk. He'd hear 'em speak of the Squatter Bostwick. He'd hear 'em tell of how she was the child- of-a poor. man, that lived in a cabin; and who was, altogether, a most bad man and a rascal. And how could he stand that? No! he couldn't stand it. -He couldn't marry her: and so there must be no love doings betwixt 'em. I must take care of that! Dory is too blessed a child to hev a man fooling about her when he can't never marry her:- and I must take care of her; and I must take care of him; and ef I finds him at eny mischief, I'll put a knife into him jest as soon as I would stick a pig, and a great deal sooner too." Again the Squatter moved down to the spring, and drank. He was really suffering. He lounged or lay about in the woods for some1 hours. Why he still kept away from his cabin and his family, it would be difficult to conjecture. But he only drew nigh to it at night; and then, under a sense of suffering which rendered him inaccessible to the sense of fear. He found his way in at last, and immediately took to his bed. His illness increased. His wife gave him some simple medicines, but they afforded him no relief. For several days he lay upon a couch of pain, without succour, the excitement of his mind increasing with the increase of fever. At length he called Doiy to his bedside. "Dory, you must go to McKewn for me. You know McKewn. You know where he lives?" "Yes, father! I saw him when I was staying with Mrs. Eve- leigh." THE SQUATTER IXN IS CABIN. 545 "What! you staying with Mrs. Ev'legh? But never mind that now. You must go to McKewn, and tell him to come to me to-night; I wants him. I must see him here; and don't you take any 'scuses, you hear! He must come. Tell him I'll fix the thing for him. He shall hev the papers, but tell him be sure to bring the gould. And look you, Dory, don't you let anybody see you. Take the short cut through the woods; and don't you be guine now to the widow's; and don't you let anybody know no- thing of who sent you, and .whar you're a guine. -Now, you onderstand?" "Yes, father." "Well, let me hear what you've got to do and say." She repeated his instructions. "Very well; and now be off as soon as you kin. I'm in a hur- ry, you see." The girl obeyed. Of what nature was the hurry of which the Squatter spoke, he, perhaps, had no certain consciousness; but he soon made it apparent to his -wife that his mind was unsettled. He called her up, as soon as Dory was gone, and said: "When McKewn comes here to-night, you must cl'ar out with the children. You kin hev a fire made up in the woods, and keep warm while we're a talking together. We've got a long talk to do together. We've got a heap of business.-l'm a guine to buy a farm for Dory, and you and the children can live with her when she's married. I'm guine to buy her some niggers, and fix her up handsomie in the world. She shan't be a beggar child eny longer. You hear to that, and ef you takes the right care of her it'll be all the better for you. Do you hear to that 8 Give me some water to drink. I'm consuming thairsty." She gave him the water. He drank, and rose from the bed; but staggered from weakness. The wife urged him to lie down again, but he replied sharply- "Git out, and don't meddle whar you don't onderstand. Go "* page: 546-547[View Page 546-547] 546 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. along now, and put yourself on the road leading to the pinelands, and see ef-thar's nobody about, and come and tell me quick." She did so, anfl during her absence he proceeded to dress him. self, which he did with evident effort. He was feeble,Ihad taken little or no nourishment, and was sustained only by the excite. ment of fever, and a will that would not suffer him to admit, even to himself, the extent of h:s sufferings. By the time that he had finished dressing himrelf, his wife returned. The road was clear; there was nobody to be seen. He prepared to go forth. "You're not going out?" she asked. "What's it to you ef I does. Mind your own business." He disappeared, and was absent a full hour. When he return. ed, he brought with him, wrapped up in the folds of his cloak, the box of Mrs. Eveleigh, containing the papers and the stolen treasurle, with the hundred guineas additional he had received from McKewn. The wife saw that he carried something with 'him, but she was not permitted to know what. He concealed it beneath the bed clothes where he lay, sinking upon the couch in utter exhaustion as lie did so. The day passed. In due season Dory returned, bringing a message from McKewn, who promised to come as required. 'Good!" said the'Squatter, languidly smiling upon the child. "You're a beauty of the forest, Dory, and I love you, and you shill hev a farm of your own, Dory, and niggers to work for you, and a nice little waiting-maid servant of your own--all of your own." 7 "Thank ye, father; and, father, I want you to let me read to you now, out of this book." "The Bible! no, none of that now; for I've got dealings with the devil to-night, or one that's a born brother of thedevil, and I don't want any good lessons when I've got to deal with such sorts of persons. Shet it up, Dory, and jest you sit by me now, and sing for me some soft sweet little bit of a song. But, first, give me some water." THE SQUATTER IN HS CABIN. 547 "Father, oight'nt you to take physic?" "Well, ef 1 know'd what physic to talie, Dory; but I don't." "There's a Doctor "Jest stop, now, and don't you tell me of Doctors, now. I hev'nt got money to give to Doctors. I'll want all to buy your farm and niggers." "Oh! don't mind that, father, but send for Doctor ." "-Shet up! You don't know what you're a saying. I must mind that. I've got nothing else but that to mind. I'm aguine to make you a lady, Dory, so that you shill be able to marry a fine great gentleman some day." "But, father-" ' Shet up, ar d jest sing, that's all." The child obeyed, and she sang for him a well known rustic ditty. He shu; his eyes, and seemed to slumber; and sometimes watching him, sometimes singing to him, and answering his calls for water, the day sped away, and the still watches of the night came on. As the wife lighted her dipt candles in the chamber, the Squatter started up. "It's night, andthat devil McKewn's not come." "It's just dark, father, I reckon he'll be here." As she spoke, the hoofs of a horse were heard. "That's him, I knows;" said the Squatter. "And now," he continued, addressing 1 is wife, " do you cl'ar out, as I told you, and take Dory and the children with you, and make up a fire in the woods, and don't be poking about here to listen, for when a man's got to talk with the devil and his angels, hq don't want eny body to hear the bargain he makes." In a few minutes McKewn tapped at the door, was admitted, and the wife, with her children, disappeared. The door was care- fully fastened, aLd the two criminals, colleagues no longer, were alone together. page: 548-549[View Page 548-549] 548 TfiE SW6OD AJtD THE DISTAFF. CHAPTER 'LXII. THE SKRIMMAGE AT GLEN-EBERLEY, AND HOW IT ENDED. FROM the dabin of the Squatter to the mansion of the planter is, with us now, as it frequently is in fact, only a stone's throw. Let us pass from one to the other. The bolt has descended. Cap. tain Porgy is in tribulation. The Sheriff, with the posse comita- tus, is at Glen-Eberley. There is great confusion in. the garrison. It is a garrison, however, well defended. The doors are all barred and bolted. From the upper windows, Corporal Millhouse and Tom, the cook, are keeping watch, armed to the teeth. The Cap- tain is moving from chamber to chamber, breathing defiance There is a warrant out for his arrest. He swears that his person shall never be dishonoured by the touch of the Sheriff. Mean- while, that officer, with his myrmidons, has environed the dwel- ling. They have failed to capture the negroes, who are all off. Tom, and that antique mother of many "ginerations," old Sap- pho, only excepted. Apprized of the approach of the enemy, Lance Frampton was deputed by Millhouse to take charge of the negroes, and house them in the swamp. This duty done, he was to act as a scouting party, making proper efforts to relieve the garrison, by throwing in provisions, whenever opportunity should offer. The Sheriff, meanwhile, sustained by Crooks, the much suffering deputy, who tenaciously sought his own revenge, with some half dozen auxiliary bull dogs of the courts, was yet be- wildered with the difficulties of his situation; provoked by the perverse and utterly useless obstinacy of Porgy, yet half laugh- ing at the military resolve to convert his house into a castle at a period when the mailed coat of the soldier was in duty bound to give place to tke gown of the civilian. The Sheriff's natural \ . - \ THE SKRIMMAGE AT GLEN-EBERLEY. 549 good humour and love of good fellowship, were in conflict with his official digrities and duties. Andy now, under the trees in the avenue, he sat in consultation with his-forces. They did not dare to venture within a hundred yard's. They had already tried the defences ard were warned off; sullen looking rifle nmuzzles pro- truding from port holes cut in the shuttered windows, and pistols swaying out significantly through broken pains- of glass in the upper story. While thus they sat, in fiont of the strong and well mannel garrison which they had summoned in vain to surrender, they were threatened by unexpected dangers in. the rear. Lance Frampton, having securely housed the fugitive negroes, was making the circuit of the' plantation, when he beheld two strange looking persons approaching. One was an exceeding tall man, something over fifty, lean, lank, long; of dry, withered as- peet; simple as skinny of visage, but with something in his face that pronounced him a character. His companion was altogether a different person, of middle size, well built without being stout, of a full, fiank, fair countenance, fine complexion, light blue eye, which twinkled merrily when he spoke, and a joyous laugh, like the ringing of , bird note, that you could hear a mile off. Both of them carried rifles, and, with their arms, equipments and dress, were altogether just such persons in appearance as were Captain Porgy and his comrades, as we beheld them when, homeward bound, they first left the camp of Marion. It was Frampton's present duty to overhaul these strangers. Thley might be addi- tional forces of the Sheriff whom he was bound to cut off. He resumed all the strategic practice that he had acquired in the war; tied his horse in the woods and stole under cover towards the strangers, who were both on foot. One of them, by the way, the tall man, carriec. an enormous sack upon his shoulders, which stuck out in every direction; the other bore a little wallet, of leatler, which aung out upon the end of his rifle. When they page: 550-551[View Page 550-551] 550 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. approached sufficiently nigh, Frampton leapt out with a joyful cry to meet them. He knew them at a glance. "What, George?" he. cried, to the younger of the two,-"Is it you?" and, "Doctor, I am really glad to see you." The parties have been, more than once, subjects of remark in our narrative. {They were ol followers of Porgy ;--Lthe one, Doctor Oakenburg, a culler of simples and catcher of snakes, of both of which his sack was now full; tumbled in, in odd confusion, with shirts ad breeches, and other body-gear ;-the other was no less a person than George Dennison, the poet of the partisans, of whom Porgy had been always very fond, and whom he was required to defend very frequently against the utilitarian philosophies of Millhouse. The meeting on both sides was very joyous; the welcome of Frampton was delivered in earnest. These were auxiliaries, allies, whom he took for granted, would readily side with him against the Sheriff. Upon Dennison he could put reliance. Oakenburg was one who had no relish for danger; and now, when told of the predicament in which Porgy stood, and asked if he would not cooperate for his relief, he avowedI his rea- diness to do so only on condition that he was required to " act in a situation which should be one of perfect security." The phrase was one to which all his associates had been accustomed for years; and yet, though stipulating thus always, he had gone through several campaigns without absolutely skulking from any fight. His professional r6le was something of a protection, it is true; but it was notorious that a patient was never in more dan- ger than-when Oakenburg promised to save him. Dennison was delighted with the notion of circumve i'athe Sheriff, and rea- dily fell into all the plans which Lance pre ented. His scheme was suddenly to fall upon the party of the Sh riff in the rear, and by giving a proper signal to the garrison, effect a simultaneous movement, by which the two parties, pushing forward at the same moment, might utterly surprise and capture the myrmidons of the I THE SKRIMMAGE AT GLEN-EBERLEY. 551 law together, at one single swoop. It was calculated that a mere demonstration from front and rear, at the same moment, would enable them to succeed in their object without shedding a drop of blood. Our partisans, it will be seen from this, had but very lit- tle notion of the valour of those who had served only in the cham- bers of the law. Frampton's -lans were soon completed. -His companions were both armed, as we have said. They submitted to his directions. He brought them down, under cover all the way, until they lay perdu, each w'th the bead of his rifle prepared to tell upon an enemy's butter. To establish a communication with the garrison was the next object. To effect this-having given Denison full instructions as to what he and Oakenburg should do, and at what moment-he s;ole away; and they lost sight of him for half an hour. In this time, he made his way, unseen by those without, to the dwelling, and by signals previously agreed upon with Mill- house, found acmittance. His scheme was duly reported, rapidly considered, and eagarly resolved upon. Porgy was now in such a state of excitement, that he never stopt to reason upon 'any por- tion of the affair but the probability of its success. An enter- prise of this nature carried him back to the familiar stimulants of several exciting years. He thought of the sortie,qts beauties, its modus operandi ; the sally, the shout, the triumph--never once of THE LAW; the sacred character of the- Sheriff,-the awful pow- ers of the courts ;-the State and its enraged dignities! Framp- ton had now disappeared, and the garrison beat to arms. Porgy appeared in the hall in full armoul'; Millhouse was there, with his sabre waving in air; Tom carried a sabre also; a rifle was slung upon his shoulder, as upon his master's- and there were pistols in every body's belt. We must not forget to mention one fact, however, that, wild as was our Captain of Partisans, he took special care tha; none of the weapons should be charged with ball. Good heavy charges of powder, well wadded, were thrust page: 552-553[View Page 552-553] -552 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. 1! ' into the guns and pistols; but nothing more heavy. Our Cap- tain's aim was t0o surprise, to scare, and to capture or disperse his enemy. He imade Lance Friampton and Millhouse understand this matter clearly; and was particularly heedful that they should see, that, however willing to violate the laws in some respects, he was yet scrupulous that no blood should be shed. We are not prepared to say tihat he felt no anxieties on this head, since any encounter'of the sort must necessarily, even with the best purpos. es of forbearance, on the side of one of the parties, be of doubt. ful accidents; but, in truth, his own excited temper did not suffer him very profoundly -to meditate the possibilities of the experiment. The watch above stairs, meanwhile, duly reported progress. Sig- nals were momently expected, and our garrison stole down the inner stairs to the basement, prepared to rush from under the porch upon the Sheriff's party, as soon as Frampton could be heard from. He, meanwhile, made his way to his new allies, Dennison and Oaklenburg. The better to encourage the latter to audacity, the Lieutenant described the affair as a furious jest only. The withdrawal of the bullets from all their weapons seemed to confirm this. "But," says the Lieutenant--" you must look as if in earnest, anrid behave just as if it was all real and serious fight- ing. That's the only way to scare off these fellows. They aint used to fighting, and a few random! shots, and a good big shout- ing, will be pretty sure to do their business, particularly when they see us, on one side, and the Captain and his men on t'other, rushing on like mad, and flourishing' pistols and broad-swords. That's all we shall have to do." Dennison was eager for the fun, and, now that it seemed so in- nocent, Oakenburg was not unready.' 'Quietly, the three stole towards the Sheriff's party, in silence the most profound, as long as they could possibly approach without discovery. Framp- ton, on this progress, had, separated from the two, and taken another directidon,-.which enabled him to act between the several HE SKRIMMAGE AT GLEN-EBERLEY. 553 parties. Hle was to give the signal, discharging a pistol, and rushing into sight, though at a greater distance from the enemy than either of the other parties. This, after a little interval, he did, , His pistol shot, his fierce halloo, and'his rush, from out the covert, was followed in a few seconds by a terrible uproar fioom the court of the dwelling; and, directly after, from Dennison and his companion Oakenburg had famous lungs, if his courage was wanting in firmness.- He could roar like an alligator, -and his bellowings shook the wood. The Sheriff and his party were at once on their feet. They were environed with dangers. They knew not which way to turn. Their consternation was evident at a glance. The Sheriff was firm, but surprised ;his immediate ally, Crooks, wkose own revenges were ever uppermost in his mind, was ready for battle, so far as appetite was concerned; but he was divided between three fires. The one great bully, whom they had brought with them, and who had never in his" life shrunk from fist or bludgeon, now showed a very different spirit, when pistols and rifles were introduced into the discussion. He had a very wiolesome ,reluctance to an atmosphere about to be impregnated swith gun-powder. At the very first shout and shot, (which came together,) he started off at a run, and was knocked down by the furious Crooks, as he was making off. He scarcely stirred again until the affair was over--until the firing had fairly ceased. Meanwhile, the several parties performed their separate duties with admirable concert. On a sudden, the corpulent might of Captain Porgy, like a young buffalo, might- be seen emerging from the cover of his piazza. lHe came forwaid, swelling and splurging-to employ the phrase by which Millhouse frequently described his assault afterwards-his eyes glaring like meteors, his voice yelling a terrific slogan; hi-s broad-sword waving like the broad tail of a fiery comet, at the advent of an earthquake.. Porgy could not exactly rush or run, but he could roll forward 45 page: 554-555[View Page 554-555] 554 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. with wonderful effect, \and his lungs were good. His strength was great when he once set hands upon his victim. He looked in terrible earnest. as he came. While his right grasped the broad-sword, his left carried a pistol. As he advanced, he fired with deliberate aim at the enemy, then dropping the one pistol drew another, still advanced, still took deadly aim, fired and hur- ried onwards with a shout. Millhouse did likewise. So Framp. ton from his quarter; so Dennison and Oakenburg from theirs; so Tom, the cook, following close in the wake of his master; and finally, so Sappho, the ancient, whose screams from toothless jaws were absolutely most awful of all to hear. Can you wonder at Ithe result. Can you doubt that the Sheriff s party was discom- fited, even before a blow was struck. His men fled incontinently from the field, all but Crooks, who stood bravely beside his chief, iff, with bludgeon in hand, and looked the danger in the face with tolerable composure. The Sheriff drew his small-sword with the air of a nobleman in a conflict with a crowd of canaille, who sees that he must perish, and: takes the proper attitude at once to die with grace and dignity, and do something wicked while falling. But he was allowed no chance. Half a dozen pistols, flashed pretty near his face and that of Crooks, utterly blinded them. They both concluded themselves slain, though doubtful at the moment where to locate their hurts; and while the Sheriff, with the despair of a dying man, darted forward and thrust out his sword in the direction of Porgy's abdominal demonstration, Tom, the cook, rushed upon him from behind, dexterously dived-be- tween his parted legs, lifted him fairly from the ground, and, while his sword furiously but fruitlessly slashed away in air, hurried him off to the house, a prisoner. Crooks was captured-nay, ridden down-by Oakenburg, who, with immensely long legs, seeing a terrier-like littlel man before him, with his back turned, delibe- rately cast his leg over his shoulder, curled the limb completely about his neck, and thus brought him down to earth; when Mill- THE SKRIMMAGE AT GLEN-EBERLEY. 555 house took him into keeping, by leisurely letting himself down upon the captive, whose bristles of chin and cheek he curiously examined; feeling them with his one hand, while commenting upon the wonderful rapidity with which red or copper coloured beards shoot out. C-ooks struggled fiercely, but it required the slightest effort in the world on the part of the Corporal, to suffer his fingers to slip from the chin to the throat of his captive. A gripe of the weasand, by such steely prongs as the Corporal wore by way of fingers, soon subdued all the bristles of the Deputy, whether of wrath or whisker. While this was going on, Porgy was engaged in rescuing the Sheriff from Tom's c'utches; a not easy matter. 'Our excellent cook, assuming that he should certainly be permitted to strip, if not to slay his prisoner,-as had been his custom in battle,-was not willing to deliver -he captive until his master promised to ac- count to him for his garments; when he suffered the discomfitted Sheriff to feel -he solid earth once more. Porgy came up and clapt the knigEt of the shire upon his shoulder- "Shall there be peace between us, Colonel?" "Peace!-Captain Porgy, you have dishonoured me! You have still your sword in hand, and I have mine. I appeal to your sense of honour, that we cross blades." "Pooh! pooh! my dear fellow, there's no need of that. You are already conquered; don't you see." "You will pay dreadfully for this! You have killed several of my people." "Not a man of them, unless the scare shall have done so. For, look you, my dear Colonel, we went into the fight with powder l only. Not a p-stol or gun was shoted!" This made the Sheriff furious. He cried- "Bid your felows stand off, while we fight. There is no sham in steel." "And no shame to you, my dear Colonel, in being shot at with page: 556-557[View Page 556-557] 556 [ THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. empty pistols. 'Pooh i pooh! man, can't you relish a good armny- joke, now that you're a peace officer. Put up your sword, and let us all in and have a stoup of Jamaica. -'I am in a lather of per- spiration." But the Sheriff was not so easily appeased, and the dispute - went on, and, in spite of Porgy's good humour--which, now that he had gained the victoryv and enjoyed his jest-'was of the most genial, description, there is no saying what might have been the upshot of the business; when suddenly the tread of horses, and the wheels of a carriage were heard rumbling towards them. And. soon the cumbrous vehicle drew nigh, drawn, as was frequently the fashion In those days, by four horses. Then a voice, well known to toth of the parties, cried out from the carriage- "Halloo! There! My brave fellows, what have you been about?" The new comer was the gallant and highly popular Charles Cotesworth Pinckney-a man, who, but for the curse of party, would have been subsequently made President of the United States. 1 'f Ha! my dear Pinckney," answered Porgy, " you have come in the nick of time to keep the peace. I have won a victory, but because 1 have been merciful, I cannot quiet those whom I should 'have slain." Pinckney got out of the carriage, stept between' the parties, and heard the story. He had sped, by the- way, with all haste after:the Sheriff, to prevent dlifficulties. The latter, goaded by McKewn, and somewhat mortified by the stories spread about at his expense, touching his former fortune-stories very much exag- gerated-had evaded the friends of Porgy, and set out for his ar- rest; and to effect the' levy, without their. knowledge. As soon, however, as the fact was known, 'Pinckney started in pursuit. lHe came too late; and the difficulties of his mission were increased. But he was not the person to despair. He had THE SKRIMMAGE AT GLEN-EBERLEY. 557 that two-fold capacity, at once of persuasion and command, which rarely suffere(d him to fail in influencing the minds of men. "What, Colonel," he said to the Sheriff,-"Angry still, after what you hear. This: must not be. We must reconcile you to our friend, who, as we all know, will have his jest though he dies for it." "Not at my expense-at least." "Surely not," said f-inckney, " and'he will atone for every hurt of honour that he has inflicted. I promise you this, my dear fel- low, on my honour; ;nd now let us into his dwelling, and see with what sort of hospitality he will receive us."' "In with you all,--good friends, all!" cried Porgy; " and if nothing short of Gle--Eberley will -suffice to satisfy you, Mr. Sheriff, why, it Is at your service. There's my hand on it,-and now in ." The Sheriff was somewhat reluctant still; but Porgy seized his hand and shook it with vehemence, and Pinckney repeated his assurance that every atonement should be made. The knight of the shire was forced to yield. Crooks, the deputy, now re- lieved from the incum ent weioht of Millhouse's body, was not so easily pacified,-but, when Pinckney, becoming impatient, told the Corporal to resume his captive, and the seat which he had oc- cupied with such effect, the' little fellow cooled off, and followed the rest into the house. - Here, for the first time, Porgy was en- abled to welcome his old associates, George Dennison and Oak- enburg, which he did with a hearty satisfaction that quite dis- turbed the Coriporal. He muttered sotto voce- "Lawd ha' marcy! now they're here, they'lI stick, and nara one of 'em able to aim the salt to his hominy!" Let us suppose the efforts of Pinckney to be successful in re- conciling the co flicting parties, and persuading the Sheriff to re- ceive the apologies of Porgy, for all that had been personally of- 45* page: 558-559[View Page 558-559] 558 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. fensive between them; apologies which Porgy gave withouta moment's scruple. But Crooks was to be hushed with other coin. His hurts of honour were to be settled by some regard to his pocket; and, after a little while, an exact estimate was made, in money, of the amount of injury done to his self esteem and hon. our. These affairs once adjusted, the question next was confned wholly -to the satisfaction of the judgment in the case of McKewn v. Porgy-a matter of more difficult arrangement. We will leave the three prominent persons, Pinckney, the Sheriff, and Por- gy, engaged in this discussion, in the parlour, after supper was over; while Corporal Millhouse, well supplied with pipes and Ja- maica, did the honours below stairs to the other guests. Framp- ton haa suddenly disappeared after the "skrimmage." He ex- cused himself only to George Dennison, and by no other parties did his absence occasion any surprise. It was probably two hours after nightfall when he re-appeared, and, suddenly making his way into the parlour where the three principal persons were yet engaged in the discussion, he called Porgy out to the piazza, and said- "Beg pardon, Captain, for troubling you just now, but you see the matter is important. There's-the squatter, Bostwick, he's got back to his family. Pomp saw him in the swamp, and when he told me, I put Pomp and another to watch the Squatter's house. They saw little 'Dory go out, and Qne of them watched her all the way to McKewn's; and to-night, a little after dark, McKewn went in to the Squatter's cabin. He's with him now, and they both may be caught together. I'm a-thinking that if you was to seize upon the Squatter, right away, and give him a good scare with the rope or the hickories, you would get back that mahoga- ny box of the widow Eveleigh, and find out all about your miss- ing property, and the attack on the widow." Lance Frampton was a brief, comprehensive speaker. He hardly employed more words than these in making this revelation. THE SKRIMMAGE AT GLEN-EBERLEY. 559 Porgy felt its vast importance, and rightly estimated the utility of prompt proceedings. tIe, at once, took lIance into the par- lour and communicated his intelligence to his associates. Pi c- neywas at once upon his feet. "We must act instanter. The Squatter must be seized.; but legally. Here's the proper officer. I can take your Lieutenant's affidavit and yours, embodying your suspicions, and issue the warrants, which will suffice to get one or both these parties into custody-the rest may follow; but rope or hickory, unless by the proper hands, must r-ot be thought of. Call your deputies,-a couple of them, Mr. Sheriff,-while I prepare the papers." Five minutes sufficed for this. The parties, Pinciney at their head, prepared to set forth; Porgy was about to' accompany them, but Pinckney objected. "Better not you, Porgy. Your entanglements a-'e quite suffi- cient already, and you'll be for grappling this fellow McKewn on the spot, and pulling his nose, or doing some outrageous thing. Besides, your debt to him makes your appearance, at the time of his answer to such charges, a rather delicate proceeding." "If I don't go with you, may I be ---!" was the reply of the doughty Captain, putting his pistols in his belt. "Obstinate as ever! But, as you will. How far is it? Do we ride!" "The horses are ready now, sir," was the reply of the prompt Lieutenant-"Better ride to Cattle Branch, Captain, and then get down and walk." Right, Lance, rigt! we must take the rascals by surprise. Gentlemen, to saddle.' page: 560-561[View Page 560-561] 560 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. : CHAPTER LXIV. THE BOX OFS PAPERS, AND IIOW PAID FOR. "UNDER the guidance of Lance Erampton, the party proceeded to the-Cattle Branch. Here, they alighted, fastened their horses in the shelter of a bit of wood, and went forward on foot. At tracted by the gleam of fire in the forest, Lance Frampton stole away to see by what it was occasioned, and, .without allowing him. self to be seen, he found the wife of the Squatter, little Dory, and the two other children, cowering about the blaze lof a fire which they had kindled about ,wo hundred yards from the house of the Squatter. Here, wrapped in blankets, and housing themselves as well as they could against the night wind, they waited the conclu- sion of the conference"between the confederates in the cabin.- Having ascertained, scout-fashion, all the necessary particulars in the case, Frampton rejoired his-party and made his report. They went forward, stealthily, towards the house, and, imitating the precautions of their guide, succeeded in approaching it without disturbing the inmates.. Throughb chinks between the logs, from which the clay-plastering had fallen out, and by the light of a couple of tallow candles which burned in the chamber of the Squatter, they could see pretty much all that 'took place within. Using our privilege, we can witness the proceedings on easier terms, and are able to report them from the beginning. Once in the chamber, the family shut out, and secure, as he thought, against surveillance, McKewn approached the bedside of the Squatter, who raised himself up in the bed to receive him. " What's made you sick, Bostwick?"' said the visitor. " Sick O! I aint much sick; aint too sick to do business. Bu- siness always make me well ag'in. The sight of the uld a-com- l of THE BOX O PAPERS, AND HOW PAID F03. 561 ing in, is always a curp for me, no matter what's the sort of ail- ment a troubling me. I Hev' you brought the gould, McKewn?" "But you are sick, .3ostwick, and very sick too," said McKewn, seeing:the fiery eyes, tae blotched features, and feeling the burning hand of the patient. "You have a scorching fever, and look ill out of the eyes." "Oh! don't you mind about the eyes. I tell you, ef they once sees the guineas, and a smart chaince of- 'em, they'll git well, and I'll git well directly. Hev' you brought them guineas? I must hev' 'em, and a great count of 'em too, McKewn." "Guineas! Why, man, you need physick now, rather than guineas. I must send you some to cure this fever." "You! Send me physick! You! Never! I'll not take any physic of your mixing, McKewn. You're not the one that I'll ap- p'int to bile my gruel.7 "Why, you don't think I'd poison you, do you?" "That's jest what I'd be afear'd of, McKewn. 'You see, I knows you, and you knows re, and I tell 'you, there's only one sort of physic I'm willing to take out of your handstand that's gould physic, McKewn. -Hev' you brought them guineas?" "I have! There a, e a hundred guineas herein this bag; but I'll not give you one of tlem, -Bostwick, until I see that box of papers-until I get it delivered into my own hands." '"You won't, you say?" "No! I will not!" ') 1 "Then, you don't g't 'em, that's all :" and the sick man hustled the pillow, and a portion of the bed-clothes, in a heap beneath his head, with an appearance of care which did not escape the obser- vation of his visitor. "Look you, McKewn," continued the Squat- ter; " you don't hev' -,hem papers onless I gits five handred guin- eas." "Five hundred guineas! Why, you're mad." page: 562-563[View Page 562-563] 562a v THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. "No I ain't I'm only sensible. I'm in want of a heap of gould. I'm a-guine to buy a farm and seven niggers for Dory, I'm aguine to sot her- up, and make a lady of her. And she shill be fine; and shbll hev' ine clothes, silk and velvet: and shill hev' niggers to work for her in the corn-field, and a maid-sarvant to wait upon her, and help put on her clothes; and you're to pay for all." "The devil, I am!" "Yes! The devil you air! and bekaise you air a born devil and bekaise, jest now, I'm your master, and kin make you work for me, I'll mak my child a lady of fortin'. So you'll hev' to fork up the money, and do it han'some. Ef I kain't git her settled, han'some, out of my ai'nings, I'd like to know what's the use of all my rapscalities. Five hundred guineas is little enough to aix you; that is, after thel hundred guineas you've got in the' baog.- Them you must leave with me, and go and git jest five hundred molre, and when I sees them counted out, fair before me, ten piles and fifty in every one or. them, then you shill hev' the box of pa- pers; and not a minute before." An I here the Squatter grasped the heap beneath his pillow, with the air of a man making sure of his possessions. The keen eye of McKewn again obser'ved the 'action, and his mind drew in- stantly the prope- inference from it. He observed, also, that the excitement of the Squatter was increasing. His eyes, now more accustomed to the degrer of light in the chamber, McKewn was enabled to see th at Bos;wick was really much more an invalid than he had thought -him at first; though, even the first glance ,had shown him thlat the man was very ill. He now began to sus- pect that his mind was wandering. This conjecture was reached, not so much because of the extravagance of his demands, as from the wild and glittrling terror of his eyes. which were dilating, as if about to burst .out of theii sockets, and shone like coals of fire; THE BOX OF PAPERS, AND HOW PAID FOR. 0563 from the fitfulness of his voice, and the spasmodic action which accompanied his utterance. To temporize with'such a patient was his present policy.- "MTell, but Bostwick, you surely can't expect me to pay this money until I see the box of papers." -'It's that vely thing you hev' to do'! You hev' to -rust me to the eend of the business. I knows what I've gotand knows its valley to you. I knows you kain't do without them papers; and I knows what'll happen ef them papers gits away froir- my hands to another pusson's. Kin you guess what would happen ef the widow Ev'leigh got 'em, or Cappin Porgy, or eeny other honest white man-that knows you, and how you stands What's the valley to them 2 Ef 'taint five hundred guineas I'll give 'em for rnothin'. - ou shan't have 'em for a shilling less!" 4"Well, Bostwick, I con't say that they will not be worth the money, but I say that you must let me see them first, ;hat I may be sure of it. "You don't see 'em, McKewn, 'tell the monCy's on ;he nail.- You shill trust me, aud I won't trust you ; for I knows you, and you're a born rascal, and I'll hang you, McKewn, for the pleasure of the thing, ef so be you don't fork out." "How long will it take you to get the papers, after 7. bring the money " I "Huoy long? How short, rether! You kin, hev' 'em arter that, as quick as you kin cry Jack Robinson."' "Ah! and if I bring you five hundred guineas this very night ." "Then you kin git th papers this very night! And you better bring 'em, McKewn, for you see, Dory must be a lady. I must make her rich as a Quee n; she must be able to carry as high a head as the widow Ev'leigh, and then she kin m1rry young Arthur, the widow's son; and h3. likes her, and is guine to narry her, jest so soon as I makes a lady of her, and gives her a fortin' of niggers and a farm; and you shall be at the wedding, McKewn, page: 564-565[View Page 564-565] 564 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. though, by blisters, I should like to see you hanging up, with you feet upon nothing, 6nly the minute arter. But, bring the guineas, and make haste about it. Lord! How my head aches and jumps. How my eyes, burn! Bring the guineas; I'm a-longing to git shet of you, and to call in Dory, and make her a lady. Be quick, and you shill hev' the cussed papers, and ef you ain't quick, I'll be a hanging you like a brute warmint. Oh! the head, how it's a-busting!" He sank upon the pillow as he ended, with an evident show of increased sufferirg. "If I were quite sure, Bostwick, that you could produce the papers as soon as I brought the money! But you told me that they were hid away in the swamp where nobody could find them." "Swamp-h-ll! So they were, hid in the swamp once upon a time; but, hain't I been thar' sence I got back; and hain't I got 'em here, in this very house, whar' I kin put hands on 'em jest when I wants them? Git the guineas, I say, and don'the foolish with your questions; and when I sees Dory a lady of fortin', with her farm and niggers, then you shill hev' the box, and much good may it do you." Again the Squattersank back upon the pillow, with his hands feebly and nervously feeling about it, as if to make himself secure of his possession. McKewn now varied his game. "I don't believe a word you say, Bostwick, and now, let me tell you, I saw the fellow, Tony Hines, at Smyzer's, he told me that you had got no box, no papers-" "Ha! yes! Don't I know that you saw Tony Hines, at Smy- -zer's; and don't I know that you gin him physic, and called your- -self a doctor; and you p'isoned him with your physic, and killed him. Don'tI know? Does anything you do hide itself from me? I tracked you, like a sarpent, sence I got back; and I knows all your doings, since I've been gone, as well as before. That's Another thing agin you;-your p'isoning of Tony Hines!" THE BOX OF PAPERS, AND HOW PAD FOR. 565 "He's not dead, is he?" "Sureas you handled him! I seed old-Smyzer, and hairn all about you. But don't be aggravatin' me, I tell you, 'or I kain't stand it. My head is jest a busting now. Ef you aggravates me I'll hang you! /I'll git my gould from another pusson. I'll sell you in the market; I'll send off for Captain Porgy to come to me. You hear, do you?"-a: most screaming. "And now fork out the money, and let me see Dory a lady, with a fortin'. It's as much as your neck's worth ef she don't git it right away." "You shall have the money, Bostwick. There are fift hundred guineas, not one, in this bag." "Let me feel it-it don't look big enough for so much. You're a lying to me, now; I knows you." "No! let me see your box of papers. Hold it. in your own hands, while I count out the money." "Well! I'll do that.. And the sick Squatter made an effort to rise and turn about while one of his hands began to remove the bed-clothes from about the pillow. McKewn eagerly watched him, the bag suspended in his hand. The Squatter suddenly paused, looked round at this moment, and caught the glance of the Scotchman's eye. "You're a great scamp, McKewn. I knows you. Ch! you're a warmint! You don't see the box till I sees tLe money counted out. It's here, you born thief, and rapscallion, but I won't trust you so much as to let you see it, ontell the money's put down here, the yallow birds, all a-flying about me, on the white bed- clothes, where I kin cour t 'em. Plank 'em down, ard when I sees 'em, then you shill see the papers." Once more the Squat;er sank back exhausted, muttering spas- modically- "Plank 'em down-all for Dory-lady, fine fortin'--Arthur Ev'leigh. Ha! ha! ha! Don't I see? Don't I know it'll be Dora Ev'leigh. Mrs. Dorothy Ev'leigh." " page: 566-567[View Page 566-567] 566 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. McKewn was apparently disposed to do as he was required- to open his bag of guineas, and to count them out upon the bed; and the Squatter, though sinking back exhausted, was yet keenly observant of all the movements of his associate. But, either the demonstration was not seriously begun by the Scotchman, or his purpose suddenly underwent a change. While he looked upon the seemingly faint and feeble condition of the Squatter, other purposes, which le had already contemplated, rapidly ripened for performance in his braiu. The thoughts occurred to him- "Shall I continue at the mercy of this miserable wretch, when a little determination is all that is needful to extricate myself from his power. He has tht box of papers 'beneath: his pillow. Of his possession of it, no one knows but myself. He can give no evidence of its contents. No one sees us. The family is all away. Why should I not possess myself of this testimony and destroy it lEe cannot oppose me. He has not strength for it. In a moment it is mine. In another moment I give it to the flames. I were a fool to hesitate-to suffer this auspicious moment to es- cape me!" The stillness of the scene-the loneliness of the neighbour- hood-night and silence-the feebleness of the Squatter-his own necessities aad apprehensions-all conspired to persuade McKewn to seize upon the desired possession. He saw directly where it lay, and, though the head of the Squatter rested upon it, no great effort would be required, he thought, to tear it from un- der him. The temptation was irresistible; and while Bostwick was looking to see the bag of gold laid bare before him, McKewn suddenly thrust it back into the pocket of the great overcoat he wore, ancd, in the same instant, seized upon the pile of bed- clothes which covered the box, beneath the pillow, and, with a violent grasp, tore it away uw on the floor. The head of the Squat- ser, in consequence of the jerk, was thrown off, with the pillow, from the box. The desired treasure was exposed, fairly, before THE BOX OF PAPERS, AND HOW PAID FOR. 567 the eyes of the Scotchman. He seized it eagerly; but before he could drag it from its p ace, the Squatter had grappled with it al- so; screaming out his fury, at the same time, in the wilcest accents, "Ha! you born thief, end that's your game, is it? But two kin play at that game, my honey; and we'll. see who's the best man. The Squatter was now up in bed. Even in this situation, and sick, McKewn found h-m no easy customer.* Lithe, active, and accustomed to every sort of toil and encounter, his strength was really surprising. For awhile the parties struggled for the box; but soon the Squatter, more accustomed fo the emergencies of such a strife, suddenly relaxed his hold upon the objec; of conten- tion, and caught hold of McKewn himself. His fingers were soon about the throat of the Scotchman. The latter found it no slight matter to break away from the tenacious grasp of his opponent. But, still grasping the box, he finally succeeded in doirg so. But he was not thus to escape in triumph. Bostwick bounded after him, out of the bed, and fastened upon him again with the claws of a young tiger. The earful conflict was renewed. After awhile McKewn bore him back successfully, and thrust him again upon the bed; but even then he failed to throw him off. TLe Squatter clung to him with a spasmodic energy, which-eemed- to increase his powers; and, desperate by the oppoditioh he encountered, McKewn fiercely smote him upon the headc ith the 'ox, twice, thrice,-holding it in, both hands,-the blows coming down with a heavy, dull sound, as if upon a bank of earth. -With a howl, rat:er than a cry, Bostwick seized his assailant with a new hold; taking him now with both arms, about the neck, and d 'awing him down upon him, where he lay. Here, while almost fainting from his hurts, and the exhaustion of such a struggle, he strove, with his last wolfish instincts, to bite and rend,-with his teeth, the ene- my whom he could nd longer injure with his hands. At this stage of the proceedings, and before either of the combatants page: 568-569[View Page 568-569] 568 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. could conjecturp the proximity of other persons, Porgyburst open the door of the hovel with a single stroke of his feet, and rushed into the room, followed closely by Pinckney, the sheriff, and the rest of the partry. They did not appear a moment too soon. The head of the Squatter was-bleeding freely from several hurts; his teeth were already sunk, with the ferocious passion of the wild beast, into the hroat of his assailant. So fast was the hold which he had taken, that it was difficult to tear McKewn from his grasp. The effort to do so dragged the Squatter from his bed upon the floor, where he lay like a baffled and wounded panther, writhing and shrieking iLr his agony arid disappointment. McKewn lost all presence of mind, all strength, the moment he found himself in the presence of other parties. He had been fearfully breathed in the violent struggle through which he had gone; but it was mental paralysis from which he now suffered. A complete collapse of all the energies followed the exposure. The box fell from his nerveless grasp, and was instantly picked up by Lance Frampton. He staggered back towards the bed, upon which he sank; Ihis jaws fell; and his strength seemed barely to allow him to cover his face with his hands. In a single instant he became conscious that all was lost; and that he was self-deliv- ered into the hands of his most powerful enemies. "You are my prisoner!" said the sheriff to McKewn, laying his hand on his shoulder. He had not a word to answer; thoroughly overwhelmed by the circumstances of his situationand the fact that he had been caught flagranti delicto l "That's it! that's right!" cried the Squatter, whose loss of blood had brought him fairly to -his senses, and who now, quite as promptly as the Scotchman, appreciated all the difficulties of his situation. " -Take him prisoner," he cried-' I'm the witness agin him, the infernal thief and tory, and murderer and villain; that stole your niigers, Cappin Porgy; I carried him forty-three I ,M ITHE ]OX OF PA'PERS, AND HOW PAID FOR. B69 on 'em that never kin git back,--all: off your place,- and he -sold 'em to Moncreiff; and many more besides; buthere's the box; it's got the pretickilar papers to convict him and to hang him, the villain, and the nigger thief, and murderer. Your seed him how he wanted to murder me in my own bed, and all to git the pa- pers, and to hush up my evidence; but he'll hev the justice-done to him at last, and Ill be a witness agin him ef they'll let me go free, and pardon me for what I did for him. I did it only for him." "You are not forced to speak," said the sheriff. "It is just as you please-to be silent, or tell all that you know." "I'll tell all I know! I'm ready and willing, of my own free consent." \ "Stop!" said Pinckney; " let him be sworn.' have a reason for it. Is there a bible in the house?" Porgy was able to find one. He knew where D:ry kept it. It was produced. Pir ckney administered the oath; and the Squat- ter, in the hearing of the man he accused, made a tolerably clean breast of it. He fu nished a long and fearful history, the charac- ter of wh'ch we can well conjecture from the portions already put into our possession. The statements were all taken down as deliv- ered. M-Kewn sank upon the bed utterly prostrate, and incapa- ble even of denial. The miserable criminal absoLutely swooned under the prospect of discovery and conviction. "And now," criec the Squatter, when he was done, "you'll git me my pardon, won't you I've told all! Them papers in the box will tell you something, too. He set me on to do what I did, and he's got all the profit, the etarnal villain, that wanted to mur- der me in my own 'ed, and me a sick man. You'll git me off, Cappin; and you, Colonel Pinckney,-I knows you, Colonel! You'll git me my pardon, from the Gov'nor, when I tells all afore the court?" "You must seek your pardon of heaven, my poor fellow," was "* page: 570-571[View Page 570-571] i70 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. the answer of Pinckney, made with proper solemnity. "The only court which you will now be summoned before, is that of the Eternal Judge of the world. Humble yourself before him with all the haste you can, and repent your sins, and pray for the media- tion of Christ in your behalf. I deem it only proper to tell you that you are even now a dying man! Gentlemen, the sooner the most ofyou leave this room, the better; this unhappy man is dying of the Small Pox!" CHAPTER LXV. CATASTROPHE. THOSE only who know the terrors inspired by the Small Pox, at the period of which we write, can properly appreciate the panic which was occasioned by the speech of Pinckney. Among the people of the country, in particular, this scourge of humanity was held a worse danger than the plague of the East. Men who would fearlessly brave the field of battle, fled, from the mention of this pest, without once looking behind them. It was so on this occasion. Our excellent Captain of Partisans was among the first to find his way out o the hovel. He was followed by all but Pinckney, the sheriff, his deputy, and the prisoner McKewn. These, as citizens, were more accustomed to the pest, and had, we suppose, been all inoculated. They remained in the farther prose- cution of the work before them. At the door, Pinckney proceed- ed-to suggest to Porgy the course to be pursued in respect to co- incident matters. "You must see to this man's family, Captain. Have them be- stowed in safety, in some place where they cannot come in contact in A . .,/: 1 CATASTROPHE. 571 with persons not inoculated. If you or Mrs. Evele'gh have any servants who have had the disease, send them here to attend upon this wretched creature. He will scarcely live anotaer day; but send\ for Dr. Warley, and, in the meantime, let him have some cooling medicines, and proper food. But see that you keep his wife away, unless she has been inoculated-which I suppose very unlikely." Porgy undertook all the necessary commissions. We will leave him to execute them, which, we may add in this place, he did with equal liligence and effect. Retu: ing to the chamber of the Squatter, Pinckney found him raving. "The Small Pox!" he cried. "Don'; you tell me sich d--d foolishness. 'Taint no Small Pox, I telJyou! It's only fever- it's a mighty hot fever, I know, and this fight with that etarnal villain thar, has only made it worser and hotter;-- but 'taint no Small Pox. Whar was I to git the Small Pox, I wants to know; me living in the swamps and here. 'Spose I was in town! was that to give me Small Pox, when I was thar a day only? I know better! I 'now 'tain; Small Pox, and I've got the strength of a horse; yet you tell me I'm a dying man-me a dying man, and sich a mortal sinner! L d G--d! ef I'm so sick as all that, send for the doctor. Tlar's gould to pay hinm-- a a, in that box. Thar's a hundred and fifty guineas in that box. Mind you, it's Dory's money; and thar's a bag of guineas in that bloody vil- lain's pocke;, and by lights that's Dory's money too. Remember Dory! L-- d, whar's Dory? Don't you let her come nigh to me, ef it's Small Pox I've got ; but send fo- my wife to nuss me. She's somewhar about in the woods. You'll see by tLe fire. Send her here? What's she doing in the woods when I'm a wanting her here. Oh! Lord, that I should come to this; and thar you stand, and a doing no;hing for me, and yet you says I'm a dying of the Small Pox. Yet, don't I know it's a lie. It's only done to skear me! And what does you want to skear me for eny more? page: 572-573[View Page 572-573] '572 v THE SWORiD AND' THE DISTAFF. Iev'nt I told you all I know about that bloody scamp. Ef you wants me to tell about the skrimmage, and how I had, to shoot Dick Norris, you're clean mistaken. I won't say a word; I'll shet upl and you shall never pry betwixt my teeth to see what's under my tongue. / No-! nor you shaint know about the blowing up of tie vess91. She blow'd up, and what hed I to do with i-Th wasa train-I knows that-and it ended in the three kags of gunbow. der; but who seed me put fire toit, I wants to know? Wmar's the .ausson here kin say he seed it, I'd like to know No! t!ar's no pusson; and why should I hev the Small Pox ontell you {rove agin me all these things. The Small Pox, indeed! That's mighty foolish. What should give me, a strong man, usen to the city, the blasted Small Pox? I laughs at it, I tell you! I laughs! Ha! ha! ha! and I snaps my fingers at it. Does that look like -a dying man. A dying man! L----d G-- d, hev marcy,ef so be its true what these men says! Oh! my God, hev marcy upon me a sinner. I know I'm a black sinner, and blasted through and through- with the p'ison of sin; but ef I am, air you guine to let me diewithout a doctor, and arter I tel'd you every thing I know'd about that murdering villain thar? Oh! Lord, send for the doctor. Don't leave me to die. I kaint die! I won't die. I hev a heap to do, to buy the niggers and the farm, and to see Dory a lady of fortin! Small Pox be d----d! 'Taint no Small Pox!, It's a hot fever only. Give me some water. Oh! how it burns. I'm a burning up. I'm all blisters, and nobody to help ine. Take him away, that bloody villain thar; I'm all afire so long as I sees him. Take him away and hitch him up. Ef I'm to die, I know who's to hang. We goes together. The old Horny swore it should be-so, and teld him! Oh! the black villain, he's got to hang, and that's the satisfaction I'll hev at the last. I knows it, and he knows it too! He shall hang, like Dick Norris, and nobody to save his neck from cracking, by a bullet through the head. He don't desarve a friend. He don't. But, oh! Lord, I ' CATASTROPHE. 573 the fire in my witals. Whar's that woman-whar's my wife-to give me drink? The Small Pox'! But don't you le; Dory come. Even ef I dies, she'sl to be a lady of fortin. Thar's the money. It's all for her!" We need not listen farther to these ravings, though they were still, for some time longer, poured into the ears of Pinckney and the sheriff, with unceasing volume, and wonderful rapidity. The fever was rapidly increasing in the brain. The disease was doing its work with fearful speed and vigour. The terrible secrets of a life of crime were delivered without a consciousness, anDA the strong men shuddered as they heard, hardly deeming it possible, from their previous experience, that society should possess an indi- vidual capable of such a revelation of evil deeds, the performance of his own hands. After a brief consultation with the sheriff, the latter, with a couple of his assistants, took McKewn away. The latter was passive in the hands of his guards. They conducted him to his own house, and securing him in his clamber they put watches upon the apartment, so that he could not escape. Porgy, meanwhile, conveyed the wife of the Squatter, with Dory and the two other chi dren, to his own dwelling, in which he as- signed then. the best apartments. Lance Framptoi went after Doctor Warley, the ablest and'nearest physician upon the river, while a couple of elderly slaves, both of whom had passed through the fearful disease which was consuming the-life of tie Squatter, were sent by Mrs. Eveleigh to attend upon him. Cooling medi- c;nes, beverages, and delicacies, such as might be- thought calcu- luated to alleviate the sufferings, or meet the wants of the patient, were all provided, and, by dawn the next day, he was in as good hands, and as carefully attended, as was possible under the circum- stances. Doctor Warley was soon with him; but, the first glance at the patient showed that all efforts would be made ir vain. The type of the disease wps singularly malignant; and exposure in the swamps, violent passions, and vexing strifes and aLxieties, had page: 574-575[View Page 574-575] 574 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. added fearfully to its virulence. Within the time predicted by Pinckney, he was a corpse. A conference ensued between Pinckney, the Sheriff and Mc- Kewn, at the house of the latter. He was still in close keeping. The charges against him were of a sufficiently serious character, involving not simply his fortune but his life. He felt all the dan- gers of his situation. In the first feeling of utter hopelessness, he humbly entreated the mercy and. forbearance of the prosecutors. The better to secure this, he produced the bond and mortgage of - Porgy-lie entered satisfaction upon them, and upon the judgments which he also held against the rest of his debtor's property. He confessed to a participation in the sale of the forty-three slaves ab- ducted from the Captain's plantation, as charged by the Squatter, and as confirmed by the documents, now open before them, from the box of the widow. There was, perhaps, no confession neces- sary. The conviction would be quite complete without it. But McKewn's policy was to make a merit of necessity. As he began to recover his confidence-removed from the fearful sights and- scenes in the cottage of the lSquatter--he ventured to urge upon Pinckney and the Sheriff, the concessions he had voluntarily made, as a plea for some indulgence. He tendered bail, but neither of them was authorized to receive it. lie pleaded for a mitigation of the rigours of his confinement; but, on this point, Pinckney re- ferred the matter wholly to the Sheriff, who, thereupon, instead of lessening the sharpness of his watch, increased it, leaving one of his most trusty deputies within the chamber of the criminal. This man, McKewn attempted to bribe with a large amount of money in gold. But the deputy was invincible. The criminal opened the chest within his chamber,-the contents of which we have al- ready seen, when the Squatter was permitted the same privilege, CATASTROPHE. 5 5 -and drew forth a pile of the glittering treasure, so dazzling to' greedy eyes and drowsy consciences. "You shall have it all," said he, in a husky whisper, "only secure the fellow in the passage un- til I can get off. You can both make off with it-with all that you can carry,-and you need not then dread exposure." The amount thus proffered was a severe temptation for a poor man; but ;his one,-who, by the way, had not the courage to stand the threatened lead of Captain Porgy and his veterans,--had yet the firmness to say to the tempter-"Get thee behind me." It might be that his virtue was governed by his fears, and by the knowledge ;hat there were other watchers besides himself, but we prefer, for the sake of humanity, to believe in the fe low's virtue. We contin ally do mischief to morals, by assuming a too low standard of virtue for the poor. Deceived and baffled, McKewn grew morose. Food was brought him at the proper hour. He refused to eat. The dinr erhour pass- ed. Night came on. He would take no supper. But he drank, if he did not eat. He drank till his cheeks were flushed, and his eyes wore a ferocious and glazed expression, which the deputy dreaded very much to behold. About an hour after night, the Sheriff enteied the chamber, and said- "This man Bostwick, is evidently dying. Dr. Warley-thinks he cannot live through the night." The teeth of McKewn gnashed fiercely. "What is that to me! Let him die and-" The sente ace remained unfinished. The Sheriff readily guessed the words with which he would have supplied the blank. He turned away and left the prisoner; but, seeing his condition, and suspecting in some degree the cause, he removed the decanter of Jamaica which stood upon the table. McKewn saw the act but said nothing. He possibly felt that it would be useless to expostulate. At twelve that night, the Squatter died, howling, in the wildest agonies, physical and mental, with horrible curses on his lips. An page: 576-577[View Page 576-577] 576 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. imprecation upon the head of McKewn, while his fingers seemed to grapple and rend something in air before him, finished the awful scene, which Pinckney witnessed with the Physician. Glad to es- cape into fresh air, he mounted his horse, the moment the scene was over, and galloped off to Glen-Eberley. Here supper awaited him, and the Partizan, and Sheriff, with their companions. They had scarcely seated themselves and begun to partake, when they heard the tramplings of a horse at full speed, and, a moment after, one of the deputies, left in charge of McKewn, bounded into the room, his cheeks pale, and his eyes wild with fright. "How now, my good fellow, what's the matter?.' demanded the Sheriff. "What has scared you!" "Oh! Sir, the prisoneri's blowed his brains out." All the party started to their feet. "Have the horses got, Lance!" said Porgy promptly. "How was it?" demanded the Sheriff. The deputy's story ran as follows :- It appears that the moody sullenness of McKewn continued. He demanded more drink. It was denied him, according to the in- structions of the Sheriff. He suddenly supplied himself with more from a closet, and his keeper did not think himself'authorized to take it from him by force. As the night advanced his potations increased in frequency, and his sullenness and ferocity were suc- ceeded by a fit of extreme nervous susceptibility. He would start up and exclaim passionately, then sink down in his chair and cover his face with his hands; but he could not continue long in this or any other position. At length, he suddenly confronted the keep- er. "Let me out;" said he, "I must go and see Bostwick. He has sent for me to come. He calls for me. I hear him." The keeper refused. "Will you go to him then for me? I will pay you. See. Look here. You shall have all this, if you will go to him with a mes- sage." CATASTROPHE. 577. And he opened the chest and, kneeling by it, took up several pieces of gold, which he counted fro n one palm to the other. The keeper still refusing, 'e flung the gold back into the chest,-and seemed absout to rise, when he suddenly exclaimed- ("Don't you hear him? He is there! Ite ishere! He hales me to him. I mulst go!" And he seemed to follow with his eyes the motion of a person unseen. Then he threw himself into an attitude, still over the chest, as if about to struggle with a foe. l "I will never go," le cried. "To the gallows, yourself, wretch; but you do not carry me. No! No! I defy you. The devil, you say! The devil! Pshaw! I am not to be frightened in that way." Then, as if suddenly filled with terror, he crouched and buried his head in the chest-cerying out- "HLe hales me away--he is too strong! Help! Fe!p! I can- not stand it!" and, rising, with a. cry, from the chest, they deputy, , for the first time, saw that he had a pistol in each hand. With' these he seemed to confiront some unseen enemy. lie made no demonstrations upon the guard, who did not dare to approach him, thus wqaponed. At lenoth, as if about to be overcome, 'he re- treated to the opposite side of the room, crying out- "Do not piess me to the wall. If you do,-if you dare-Oh'! my God--my God! He will come!" With these words, he discharged one of the pistols at the ima- ginary object, then cried, while every limb trembled with horror- "It went through Lim, and he does not fall.- He comes still. Oh!" with a choking cry---"His fingers are upon my ;hroat! Oh! God, have mercy!" Thus speaking, he clapped the other pistol to his own head, and, with the crash of the report, sank down in a heap upon the floor, utterly lifeless, with his forehead entirely blown away. 4. page: 578-579[View Page 578-579] 578 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. Such was the story told by the guard. According to the state- ment of time, there could not have been five minutes between the death of the two miserable criminals. Enough! 3 Draw the curtain close, And let us in to meditation." CHAPTER LXVI. THE GRAPES ARE SOUR! IT was a remarkable proof of providential interposition-so thought in those days at least-that not one of the persons who came in contact .with the Squatter in his last illness, caught the small-pox. from him. Yet his wife, little Dory, and the two other children, had been, for three days at least, constantly in the sick man's chamber. This was held a wonderfil proof of God's gra- cious favour; and to those who knew the contagious character of that malignant pest, it was certainly a very remarkable circum- stance. After a proper interval, the humble family was again per- mitted to commune with its former patrons. Mrs. Eveleigh took Dory into her house, and the united appropriations of the widow and our Captain, made ample provision for the future comfort of the mother and the other children, in a little farm of her. own, where she dwelt forever after, in a condition of humble comfort, which left her little to desire. Porgy gave her an old negro, and the widow Eveleigh a young one. Little Dory had a teacher pro- vided for her, and, in a superior society, and with proper educa- tion, the native talents and .graces of the child, daily ;exhibited new blooms, and the sweetest developments. In process of time, THE GRAPES AIE SOUR,! 579. when she grew to womanhbod, her charmsi-made themselves felt in every h3art with which her own came in contact, until-but let us not anticipate. Let us return to our principal parties. Glen-Eberley, by the events recorded in our las; chapter, was made secure to its ploprietor. Our Captain of Partisans was re- liered of all his embarrassments. His debt to .Mrs. Eveleigh was not of this order. The profits of the pIantation were quite ade- quate, with a few years of indulgence, to liquidate this, and all other obligations of a pecuniary nature. Porgy, at last, found shelter beneath his fig-tree, with none to make hinm afraid. lie had his friends about him, his singing bird, and kis puzzle in a bottle. George Dennison and Doctor Oakenburger, much to thle disquiet of Millhouse, became portions of the establishment. The one furnished the ballads for the evening fireside; the other- was content to provoke the wit of others, without possessing a spark of it, himself. The Co poral still delivered the law from his self-es- tablished tripod. He was still an oracle, who suffered no dog to bark. Lance Framp;on was a frequent visitor, and so, once more, was Arthur Eveleigh, satisfied to seek good fellowship, and piquant matter of remark, though still occasionally suspicious of the Cap- tain's inclinings to h's mother. On this subject, however, he' no longer ventured to exhibit his boyish petulance. The one stern rebuke of his otherw'se gentle and affectionate mother, had proved quite sufficient to curb, at least for the present, the young tiger striving within him; and, to sum up in a word, Glen-Eberley pre- sented to the eye the condition of a well-managed household, in which the parties were all at peace with themselves and one an- other. ' The same thing might be said of the neighbourhood. The ge- nial moods prevailing in the one houselold radiated in all direc- tions. Glen-Eberley became a sort of centre for the parish civili- zation. The charm was great-a sort of salient attraction-which drew the gentry, all around, within the sphere of its genial, yet page: 580-581[View Page 580-581] provocative influences. Freed of anxiety, Pogy resumed his an- cient spirit. The piquancy of his society was every where ac- knowledged; and, with the Corporal and I)octor Oakenburger as his foils, the hutmour of our Captain of Partisans was irresistible, B'un and philosophy were strangely mingled in him, and they 'wrought together in unison. To rise from a practical jest into fields of fanciful speculation, was an habitual exercise with our I camp philosopher. To narrate the experiences through which he had gone, delivering histor' and biooraphy, anleclote and opinion with the ease of a well-bred gentleman over his wine and walnuts, was to him an art familiar as the adjustment of his neck-cloth.-- And these things were all delivered withea spirit and a quaintness, l giving them wonderful relish, and which wasltpeculiarly-his own. Thus the days glided by as if all were winged with sunshine. -- Thus the nights escaped all efforts to delay them, too brief for the enjoyment which they brought. It may be that we shall some day depict these happy times, the "Humours of Glen-Eberley," even as they were well remembered by many, thirty years ago, in all that cluster of parishes which lie between the Ashey and the' eastern margin of the Savannah; but, at present, we can refer to them only. Enough, that peace reigned in the household, under the strong will, and the happy 'temperament of. its chief; that the dangers which threatened firom without, were all overcome, in con- ( sequence of the events already recorded; the Sheriff had been /soothed by ample apologies from Porgy, to which Pinckney easi- ly persuaded him;.and Crooks, the Deputy, seasonably sauced with good words apd hush-money, was easily persuaded to believe that his digestion was totally unhurt by the unnatural sort of re- ' past which he had been made to swallow by the lawless partisans. rom, we may here mention, was bought back from the widow Eveleigh, 'and received a gift of himself, from Porgy, which he :unningly rejected. ":No! no! maussa," he cried, with a sly shake of the head, "I . THE GRAPES ARE. SOUR! 581- kain't t'ink ob lettin ) you off dis way. Ef I do, sn't b'long to you, you b'longs to mae! You hab for keep dis nigg er long as he lib; and him for keep you. You hab for fin' he dinner, and Tom hab for cook 'em. 'Free nigger no hab any body for fin? 'em he bittle (victuals); anc( de man wha' hab sense and good ma-tsa, at de same time, he's, a d----n pretickilar great big fool, for let he maussa off from Feep 'cm and fin' 'em. I no gatine to be free no way you kin fix i'; so, maussa, don't you bodder me wid dis nonsense t'ing 'bout free paper any more. I's well off whar' I is, I tell you; and I mluch rudder (rather) b'long to good maussa, wha' I lub, dan be nmy own rmaussa and quarrel wic. mese'f ebbry day. Da's it! YoiL yerry iow? I say de wud for all! You b'longs to me, Tom, jes' as much as me, Tom, b' ongs to you; and you nebber guine git you free paper froml-me long as you lib., Thus the matter was settled, and Tom continueci to the end of t e chapter, the cool and proprietor of his master. It was probably three months after these events, that Captain Porgy, one mornin, 'made' his appearance at breakfast in full dress. His toilet had been prepared with a much nicer care than usual. His beard, which, we shame to confess, vas sometimes allowed to grow wildl for a week, was now carefully pruned down, leaving the smoothest possible surface -of chin an d cheek. He wore his buff small clothes, and his new blue c at, with great shining buttons. I3 is neck-cloth was a sky blue silk, which had before been worn. His silk stockings were of t he most irre- proachable flesh colour, and Pompey had done hi, best to polish his shoes, so as to make them emulate, inll some d giree, the glit- tering shine of the line patent leather of the present day. The whole appearance ol our Captain was so fresh and so3 unique, that 47* page: 582-583[View Page 582-583] Oi2;a THE SWORD -AND THE DISTAFF. his presence caused an immediate sensation. The implovement j in his toilet struck all parties. Millhouse could not forbear an ex- clamation, and even Oakenburger opened his eyes as he might ha0ve done at the discovery of a new and htherto. unsuspected species of rattlesnake or viper. Denison only smiled, and said something touching the premlature coming of the spring. "We shalI soon be looking for the swallows, Captain." "One-would think that we had thlem here already," replied the Captain, glancing obliquely at the enormous bowls of coffie which Pomp was pouring out at the moment. No more was said. But when, after breakfast, Porgy ordered his horse, the Corporal im- mediately became enlightened on the subject. The disappearance of the Captain, opened the fountains of his speech. "I knowed it," quoth the overseer--"It's to happen at last. Well, its all right. It mout ha' been done, a year ago, and 'twould ha' saved some trouble. But it's never too late. I see I'll have to open new lands." '"What's to happen?" demanded Denison. "Don't you see. He's gone a-courting." l "A courting?" :i "Yes! -he's gone off now, I'm main sartin, to pop the Guestion to the widow. Well, she's, got a smart chaince of niog'grs, and when they gits hitched fairly, my force will be something worth I counting. I'll begin to cl'ar up my gum land to-morrow. 1'll put in a hundred more acres this season. Lawd! what we mout ha' done a year ago, ef the Cappin hadn't been so mealy mo'iIthed." "And you think he's gone to be married!" demanded Oaken- burger-" a wife." i "To -be sure! What else I knows it-a wife it is! ai d sich a wife. She's got more than a hundred liggers, and I'll1 ev' to) manage 'em all. But, I'll tell you what,-she'll manage: you. She'll not hev' you idle fellers about the prlemises. A wife that's been a wife before, and's had the managing of her oin af- " ) * 1', THE GRAPES ARE SOUR! 583' fairs so loing, she aint gwine to hev' her house filled ip with war- min. She'll hev' a clearing, I tell you both. Singing birds and snalke catchers aint gwine to- eat her' out of house and home. She'll find out'what's the wartues of twork in you, or she'll make you pack. Sich a broom as she'll bring with her, when she comes, will sweep away all the rubbish." The cornmunication caused Oakenburger to look l-lank. Den- nison, with that rare disregard of to-morrow, which is supposed to mark the poetical nature, only laughed, and went off, hum- ming an'old English ditty about stirring housewives and fairy be- soms. Meanwhile, Porgy pursued his way, as the Corporal had truly conjectured, to the dwelling of the widow Eveleigh. The Corporal hadno less truly divined his object in the visit. For some time past, the Captain had been meditating the obligations which he owed the widow. He reflected upon what the Corporal had repeatedly suggested to him, in respect th the tender sort of interest which she was supposed to feel for himself. This might be a well founded suggestion. Repeated examinations of the matter, in his own mind, had not persuaded him that the interest of the widow was any thing more than that of a friend. Still, it was possible; and if it were really the case that she entertained any stronger sentiment in his favour, it would certainly, as the Corporal had said,---'be a most cruelsome-- thirg that she shouldn't hev' the mau she wanted, pretickilarly when she had done so much for his sarcumstances." Porgy felt the ingratitude' of any such neglect, on his part, supposingany such feeling on hers, and gratitude furnished a crutch where love might have faltered lamely and fdiled in ,is appraches. Repeated meditations had brought the Captain to a definite, conclusion; and he had armed himself to "-come to the sticking point," in other words, to make her a formal offer, of hand and heart, and household. Fortu- nately for his purposes he found her at home and- alone. Dory had gone on a visit to her mother,-Arthur had set forth on a page: 584-585[View Page 584-585] 5'84 - THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. der hunt with Frampton and some other young men. , This was probably known to Porgy when he chose this day for his demon- stltations.- He found the widow as kind, and firank, i'vely and agreeable as-ever; and, after chatting on a-variety of t pics,lhe gradually brought the one subject in particular to bear. He was very nice; and as he thought, very judicious in his prelnminaries, He discoursed of marriage in the abstract as a beautiful and ad- mirably conceived condition for human beings; he discoursed of his wants in particular. Of course, he forbore any allusion to what might be supposed her wants also. Hie was pleadcing, and humble and solicitous, and reasonable and reverential, ar d touch- ing and truthful ;-and, in short, without throwing himself abso- lutely at her feet, he declared himself so, and without ac- ually ta- :king her in his arms, he avowed his great anxiety to do so;-and this, -we are bound tosay, in the best possible style, witi proper modesty and misgiving. The widow, with a sweet smile, laid her hand upon jis own, and said as gently and tenderly, but as calmly, as possible;- "My dear Captain, why is it that men and women canr-ot main- tain an intercourse, as friends, without seeking any other relation. Is it not astonishing that such a thing should seem impossible to ever; body? low, why should not you and I be true firiends, loving friends, trusting each other with the utmost cor fidence, coming and going when we please--welcomed when Me come, regretted when we have to depart,--and never perilling ;he inti- macy of friendship by the fetters of matrimony. Can't it be so with us, my dear Captain,--and why not? I confess I tiink-I feel--that we may be very dear friends, Captain, for all or lives; glad in each others society, doing each other kindly and aSection- ate offices,--faithful always and always confiding, as friel ds, and nothing more." The Captain answered confusedly. The widow proceeded. "The fact is, Captain, if you look at the matter proper]y, you THE GRAPES ARE SOUR! 585 will see that it is quite impossible that we should marry.' We should risk much and gain little by such a tie. I corfess. -to you - that were I again to marry, I know no person to whom I should be more willing to trust my happiness than yourself." The Captain squeezed her -hand. "But, Captain, I am willing to trust myself to no body again. I have been too long my own mistress to submit-to authority. I T have a certain spice of independence in my temper, ;hich would argue no security for the rule which seeks to restrain me ; and you, if I am any judge of men, have a certain imperative mood which would make you very despotic, should you meet-with re- j sistance. There would be peace and friendship between us, my dear Captain nay love-so long as we maintain our separate in- dependence; and, in this faith, I am unwilling to risk any thing by any change in our relations. Let there be peace, and frienid- ship, and love between us,--but never a word more of marriage. There is my hand, Captain, in' pledge of my good faith, my friend- I ship, my affectionate interest in yourself and fortunes -my plea- sure in your society-and you must be content with hat. Will you, Captain? For my sake, let me entreat, and please say no more of other matters." Porgy took her hand and carried it to his lips. "God bless you, my dear widow, and believe me grateful for what you are willing to bestow. I must be content-will be- assured of such a friendship as your heart is capable of. You are right, perhaps, and yet-" "No doubt! I am right. We know each other, and there shall be no misunderstanding, between us. You must stay to din- ner with me to day, that I may be sure you feel no impatience with me." And he staid. S ' , page: 586-587[View Page 586-587] S 86 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. But the idea of marriage had, for the time, taken particular possession of the brain of our Captain. Three days after, he rode over to see the widow Griffin; but, on this occasion, :te did not take the same pains with his costume as whien hpe visited the oth. er widow. His dress was less pretending, and more sombre of hue. The Captain knew, before he started, that the vidow was alone. Lance Frampton had gone on a visit with Iis. wife to Dorchester, the scene of some of his own exploits during the war, and where he had some relatives. Porgy found the widow in good health and trim, and especially in good spirits. i;er wel- come was always genial, and she looked particularly?harming, though in ordinary household gear. She was at her spinning wheel when he came. A basket of carded cotton stood beside her, and as she drew off the threads from the wheel, approached it and retired, he thought her as graceful as a young lamsel of sixteen. For the first time in his life, he fancied that spinning was a particularly picturesque performance, and wondere I that he had not seen it more frequently delineated in pictures. Lrs. Grif- fin was very lively and good humored, and the Captain l'adually became 'more and more gallanit. -After awhile, he officia d some- what,in her operations. Now, he drew the basket of Cotton to her side. Anon, when she desired to move the wheel, he caught up one end of it, while she took the other. It was th -is bor- into the piazza, the better to afford room for her proceedings. In the obscure situation of the cottage, off the public Ioad, and st r- rounded by great shady evergreeps, the piazza wast scaacely leh private than the hall. The feeling of privacy had its 'effect on Porgy. Soon, he became more frequent in the little jelps lhe gave the widow, and, at length, when putting aside her s inning, she proceeded to reel off a pile of yarn, the Captain forcled away the reel, and gallantly thrust his own arms through the hanks. It was in vain that the good, simple Griffin, wondering inldisconm- fiture at this self-humiliation on the part of the Captain, strove \ TTHE GRAPES ARE SOUR. 587 against it. He gave her a fierce smack upon the lips with his- own, and thus put an end to all her efforts to re-possess herself of the thread. Then he placed himself before her in a great chair, l his arms extended to the uttermnost, his eyes surveying her ten- derly, while she, with downcast looks, proceeded, as the Sultan ruled, to reel off the threads as well as she might from the digits of her awkward auxiliary. The picture was a sufficiently ludi- crous one, but it may be better fancied than described. Griffin I might have seen-probably did see,-the grotesque absurdity of I the scene; but Porgy was in his Arcadian mood, and certain feel- ings which he had in reserve, made him obtuse in respect to the queer figure which he- cut in this novel employment. He was startled into a full consciousness of his ridiculous situation, by the sudden appearance, in front of the house, on horseback, of the widow Eveleigh and her son Arthur. In the chat which the Cap- tain had kept up, tender and sentimental, and perhaps a little I saucy, neither Griffin nor himself had heard the sound of the horses, until escape was impossible. The parties were fairly caught. The first thought of the Captain, when he looked up at - the sudden noise and saw who were the visitors, was to fling the yarn over Griffin's head; at all events to fling it from his arms; but the mischievous threads adhered tenaciously to the broad- \ cloth, and caught upon the, buttons at his wrist, and tan'led itself about his fingers, as if each thread were a spirit of disorder, sent especially for his discomfort and defeat. ,When he sought to rise, it fell in a mass upon his feet, and when he strove to kick it off, the feet got involved within the meshes, so that he dared not take a step forward lest he should lay himself out, at full length, along the piazza. As for the yarn, before he got out of its meshes, it was one inextricable mass of disorder, which filled the eyes of Griffin with consternation to behold. The pair were really in most pitiable plight; an awkward consciousness of the ludicrous- ness of the picture they afforded to the new comers, striking them page: 588-589[View Page 588-589] 58 8 THE SWORD AND THE DISTAFF. both irresistibly for the first time. But Porgy's corsciousness was particularly vexing upon other grounds. To be se:en in sucl a relation to the one widow, after seeking such a relatio! with the other! As the poor Captain meditated upon the matter, which he did in a single instant of time, his face streamed witl perspira. tion, though the month of March, when the event ha pened, is considered a tolerably cool one, even in a Carolina climante. Porgy hardly dared encounter the eye of the widow Eveleioh, who had alighted with her son, and now entered. But he strove to pluck up courage, and, in seeking to appear lively, ae simply showed himself nervous. When he did catch the eyes of the widow, he saw them filled with a significantly smiling speech, which added to his confusion. She gave him her hand, however, very frankly observing, as she did so-- "What, in our times, Hercules subdued to the Distaff!" "Ah! my dear widow, it is only woman that finds the hero weak. That you should have seen me at this folly!" This was said in something of a whisper. "Do not count it folly,"' answered the widow. "It i through the weaknesses of the man that we know his proper streng;h. That one is able to forget his dignities, only shows that his aeart has not been forgotten. But, truth to speak, my dear Captain, the picture was an amusing one." "Funny! very! It must have been." This was sa'd with a ludicrous attempt to smile, which resulted in a grin. Porgy's plan of courtship was exploded for that day, and for a goodly week afterwards. But the purpose was not abandoned. It was about ten days after, when the Captain took occasion to revisit the widow Griffin. Frampton and his wife were still ab- sent:. Millhouse, Arthur Eveleigh and George Dennison, were off THE (iKGRAPES ARE SOUR. 5t9 on a deer hunt somewhere down the river; and Porgy having smoked his after dinner pipe, and feeling dull, if not drowsy, hav- ing dined alone, resolved briefly the desolateness of his state, and, under a sudden call to change it, ordered his horse, determined to woo the widow Griffin after the most lion-like fashion. To confess another of our Captain's weaknesses, he had but little doubt of success. Griffin had been so docile, so gentle, so solicitous of his ease and comfort, that he really persuaded himself he had but to seek to secure. And so he rode. A pretty smart canter soon brought him to her door, where the spectacle that confound- ed him was even more astonishing to his sightthan the situation could have been to the widow Eveleigh, when she caught himself. He could scarce believe his eyes. There, in the piazza, stood the fair Griffin, clasped clog in the arms of the overseer, Fordham, and that audacio s personage was actually engaged in tasting of her lips, as a sort of dessert after dinner.. The situation was appa- rent as the noonday sun. The facts were beyond all question or denial. The parties were fairly caught, and so conscious was the wicked widow of ;he sinfulness of suffering herself to be caught, that, not able to fice the Captain, she broke away from the arms of Fordham, and rushed headlong into the house. Porgy was swallowed up in astonishment. He was about to wheel his horse around, and ride off, at greater speed than than that which brought him, when Fordham sallied out, and-asked him to alight, and with the coolest manner in the world, said- "Well, Cappin, you've caught us at it; but no harm done, I hope. The widow and me struck hands on a bargain, and I reckon we'll be mighty soon man and wife; and I hope, Cappin, to see you at the wedding." "The d-1 you do!" was the only response of the Captain, as, looking fiercely indignant at such cold blooded audacity, he wheel- ed his horse, clapt spurs to his sides, and sent him homewards at full gallop. 48 f' '- page: 590-591[View Page 590-591] "Mighty strange!" quoth Fordham. "The Cappln doesn't seem to like it!" Simple minded Fordham, to suppose that a man should like to see his neighbour feeding on the very fruit he had thought to gather for himself. With the defeat of these attempts, Captain Porgy gove up all notion of marriage. "Woman!' quoth he, "woman!" and there his Isoliloquy ended: but the one word, repeated, was full of significance. When at length his comrades were again assembled about the b )ard, and the cheerful fires were blazing in the hearth, and the philosophic cloud!wreaths floated about the apartment, and the tankards were filled with potent floods of sunny liquor, Porgy said su denly to his companions- "My good fellows, there have been moments when I thoght of deserting you,-that is, I sometimes meditated bringing in upon you a fearful influence, which might have lessened your ha ppiness, and destroyed the harmony which prevails among us. I have had various notions of taking a wife-" "A wife!" cried Dennison. "Oh! hush, Captain, a:id don't frighten a body so! A wife! What madness prompted such a thought." "A wife! cried Oakenburger,-" the Lord deliver us!' "Ef she'd ha' come, she'd ha' delivered you mighty soon " quoth Millhouse; "I don't see what's to skear a body in a wife, iervided she's in proper sarcumstanees, and is kept strick, by a iran usen to army rigilations." "-Maussa bter widout 'em,'? quoth Tom; "I nebber kin 'tan for be happy in house whar woman's is de maussa." "Well, you will all be pleased to hear, then, that I Lave de- G'1'tJi IAi .ES AEJ sOUUK. OU J. termined to live a bachelor for'your sakes. I sacrifice my happi- ness for your owr. I renounce the temptations of the flesh. It has been a pang to mrre, gentlemen, for beauty is precious in my sight. There are womer whom I could love. There are charms which persuade my very eyes to sin. There are sweets which make my mouth water. But, for your sakes, I renounce them all. I shall live for you only. You could not well do without me; I will not suffer myself to do without you. You shall be mine always-I shall be yours. 'To woman, except as friend or companion, I say depart! I renounce ye! Avoid, ye sweet tempters to mortal weakness,-ye beguile me with your charms no more! For your sakes, dear comrades, there shall be no mistress, while I live, at Glen-Eberley." "And may you live for ever!" was the cry from all but Mill- house. He only muttered in the ears of Dennison- "I sees it all! He disowns the women-bekaise he kaint help himself. The grapes is sour!" THE END.
