T>. Er < o =o O NIVERi/A. ^lOSANGELj:> * <^ i ~H\\ ^ ^ m .OF-CALIF(%, tfvUlBRARY^ ^\\E UNIVERS//, vvlOS ANGELA ^ '^l IVERS/A THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. He was in the act of bringing the weapon down on the youny girl's head, when he perceived the serpent. (Page 50.) THE BY MADAME VALENTINE VATTIER. TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH MRS. MARY C. MONROE, NEW-YORK AND CINCINNATI : BENZIGER BROTHERS, PRINTERS TO THE HOLY APOSTOLIC SKE. I875- Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1875, by BENZIGER BROTHERS, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. ra CONTENTS. PAGE I. WHITE COTTAGE AND ITS INMATES, ... 7 II. HENRIETTA'S FRIEND, 10 III. FIRST AFFLICTIONS, ...... 14 IV. CONSOLATION, 17 V. THE RETURN 20 VI. UNEXPECTED TIDINGS, 23 VII. ADVENTURES OF WILLIAM LEBRUN, ... 26 VIII. NEW SORROWS, 35 IX. Two DEPARTURES, 38 X. THE VOYAGE AN UNEXPECTED DIFFICULTY, 43 XI. THE SACRED SERPENT, 48 XII. HENRIETTA'S SUFFERINGS, .... 52 XIII. THE MELOCACTUS THE COLONIST AND HIS FAMILY, 58 XIV. THE ARRIVAL WILLIAM LEBRUN, . . 64 XV. VILLA OF " THE ACACIAS" THE OVERSEER AND HIS WIFE, 69 XVI. ANXIETY OF HENRIETTA'S PARENTS THREE LETTERS AT THE SAME TIME, ... 75 XVII. ELLEN MCDOUGALL AN UNEXPECTED MEETING, 80 XVIII. HENRIETTA'S LIFE AT " THE ACACIAS," . 85 XIX. THE JOURNEY, 95 XX. PROMOTION OF CELESTIN LEONIE'S ILLNESS, 102 XXI. THE BALL WILKIE'S ILLNESS HENRIETTA'S DEVOTED NURSING, 106 XXII. CONTINUANCE OF YELLOW FEVER ARCHY, THE RUNAWAY SLAVE 115 XXIII. LETTER WRITTEN BY HENRIETTA TO HER PARENTS, 123 XXIV. A MORNING WALK CAMP OF THE RUNAWAY NEGROES, XXV. MR. LEBRUN'S ILLNESS SUFFERINGS OF THE SLAVES THE INSURRECTION, XXVI. INSURRECTION OF THE SLAVES, XXVII. A GLIMPSE OF THE PAST GREAT REJOICING, 156 XXVIII. EMANCIPATION OF SLAVES SALE OF PROPERTY, 160 XXIX. HAPPINESS EMBARKING FOR FRANCE, . . 167 XXX. " HOME AGAIN," 172 EPILOGUE, 179 461504 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. CHAPTER I. WHITE COTTAGE AND ITS INMATES. A SHORT distance from Havre, and quite near the sea-shore, there stood, about fifteen years ago, a modest but most attractive little cottage. A well-kept garden surrounded it on three sides, inclosed by a light railing painted green, with a small wicket opening on the gra- veled walk which led through the garden to the front en- trance. Bengal roses and clematis, honeysuckles and convolvulus, covered the cottage, and wound themselves fantastically in wreaths and festoons around the win- dows, leaving nothing uncovered, outside their undulating branches, save a glimpse here and there of the dazzling white walls. It was doubtless from these narrow fa9ades of white that the cottage received the name we have in- scribed at the beginning of this chapter, and by which it was generally known throughout the country. The inmates of White Cottage consisted of six per- sons : Anthony Lebrun, Margaret his wife, and their four children, Henrietta, Celestin, Emily, and Henry. 8 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. Anthony Lebrun was a man about forty years of age. By dint of industry and economy he had succeeded in amassing a small capital, and from a simple sailor had advanced until he was now numbered among the mas- ters or owners of the fishing vessels of the coast. Until this time, every thing had prospered with him. His wife, a good, amiable, and industrious woman, worthily assisted him, by directing, with incomparable skill and care, the domestic affairs of White Cottage, a modest in- heritance she had received from one of her aunts, and the value of which she doubly appreciated. In his children, Anthony Lebrun was no less happy. Henrietta, although only in her thirteenth year, had pro- fited by the example and advice of her mother, and fol- lowed closely in her footsteps. Diligent and industrious, this young girl already had a thorough appreciation of the value of time, and it was truly a pleasure to see her engaged about the household duties, washing, sewing, knitting in a word, doing every thing she found possi- ble for her hands to accomplish. Celestin, a boy of twelve years, formed one of his fa- ther's crew, and manifested already the strongly-develop- ed traits of a brave and hardy sailor. Emily, although but eight years old, exerted herself to assist her mother and sister, as far as her age and health, always delicate, would permit. As to little Henry, he was the Benjamin of the fami- ly, and especially of Henrietta, his eldest sister and god- mother. When Anthony Lebrun, after a fatiguing day's labor, took his place at table, or by the cottage fireside, and, THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 9 looking around, beheld his excellent wife and his belov- ed children, he fully realized the happiness of his lot that the " lines of his life" had indeed been " cast in pleasant places," and in his heart thanked God for the sunshine and joy of the sweet and peaceful home that surrounded him. One souvenir alone returned from time to time to disturb the quiet happiness of the fisherman. Twenty years before, his only brother embarked on a merchant- vessel that sailed from Havre, and was never more heard of. All inquiries had been in vain ; William Lebrun never returned to France, and his brother was obliged, at last, to believe him dead. Gradually, the deep grief Anthony had experienced from the separation and loss of his brother subsided into a melancholy remembrance, but was still a constant source of sadness. He taught his children to love that brother, who would have been to them so good and affectionate an uncle, and often, particularly on Sunday evenings, when his family were gathered around him, the fisherman would speak of his brother ; and as if trying to console himself with the vague hope, would insist that William, doubtless, charmed by the wonders of some dis- tant country, had temporarily taken up his abode there, but sooner or later, he would return to France and his own family. " I can not believe he is dead," the good fisherman would sadly continue ; " I have the firm hope of some day again beholding and embracing him." Nevertheless, the years rolled by, and no tidings of William Lebrun ever reached his family. CHAPTER II. HENRIETTA'S FRIEND. ALTHOUGH the garden surrounding White Cottage was by no means an extensive one, yet Margaret Lebrun and her eldest daughter attended it so carefully that the products raised far exceeded the requirements of the fa- mily. A portion of the vegetables and fruits was sent to market at Havre, while Henrietta herself carried around the most choice and beautiful, to supply a number of wealthy families in the neighborhood. The young girl conducted herself with so much mo- desty and politeness, and at the same time was so amia- ble and obliging, that she everywhere received a kind welcome, and particularly at the mansion called " The Elms." This country-seat, a magnificent estate situated about half a league from the sea, belonged to Madame Hermier, a rich widow, who resided there eight months of the year, in order that the delicate health of her only daugh- ter, Leonie, might be strengthened by the pure bracing air of the coast of Normandy. Over-indulged by her mother, Leonie abandoned her- self without restraint to every whim and caprice that suggested itself. One day, about four years previous to THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. n the time our story commences, white walking on the sea- shore, she took a sudden fancy to run on alone, for a great distance. This freak had nearly resulted in fatal consequences ; for, regardless of the warnings of her governess, the young girl had approached very near the waves, leaping heedlessly over the numerous little streams that form the ocean at the hour of ebb-tide. Fortunately, that day, Henrietta was waiting on the beach for the arrival of her father's boat. Her warning cries saved the young lady from the danger into which she was running. The amiable and lovely face of the fisherman's daughter attracted her attention, and she en- tered into conversation with her. When she was inform- ed that Henrietta often carried fruits to the different manor-houses, she urged her not to fail to present herself very soon at The Elms. " I am perfectly delighted with you," she added, " and I want you to become my friend." Henrietta excused herself on the ground of that being too great a familiarity. " I am not at all proud," replied Leonie, " and mam- ma lets me do just as I please. You may be sure she will be glad to have you come to our house." Partly from curiosity and partly with the hope of finding a new market for the products of their garden, Henrietta made no delay, but took an early opportunity of making her appearance at the residence of Madame Hermier. Leonie perceived her coming, while she was yet at a distance, and running to meet her, she at once hurried the young girl into the presence of her mother. 12 THE FISHERMAN S DAUGHTER. " Dear mamma," she cried, " here is the little girl I have been telling you so much about. I love her dearly already. Now won't you let her come and see me very often ?" Madame Hermier responded very graciously to this demand ; but notwithstanding her weakness for Leonie, she reserved the privilege of keeping a careful watch over the friend to whom her daughter wished to attach herself. Her examination resulted most favorably for Henrietta ; and very soon, far from wishing to prevent Leonie from continuing the intercourse, Madame Her- mier encouraged the intimacy as far as the different posi- tions of the two young girls would permit. Time did not lessen Leonie's friendship. For four years she had not permitted a week to pass without visit- ing White Cottage, and on every occasion, when her friend carried something to sell at The Elms, she found an opportunity of having a long conversation with her. Henrietta considered herself fortunate, for many rea- sons, in having acquired the sympathy and affection of this young girl. For although she was accustomed to having every one accede to her wishes in every thing, Leonie had a good heart ; and besides, she was naturally kind and obliging. Her quick temper led her into trans- ports of anger, but she soon recovered her amiable dis- position, and would then exert herself in the most charming manner, to make one forget her faults. Having observed Henrietta's fondness for reading, she loaned her books ; at first, story-books and light lite- rature, then school-books and histories ; in this way, the fisherman's daughter, when her work was finished, em- THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 13 ployed an hour or two, each evening, in useful reading. Her quick and ready intellect and excellent memory seconded her great ambition to learn ; and she was con- sequently very soon as far advanced, in many branches, as her friend. Leonie rejoiced at her progress, and Madame Her- mier was no less delighted ; because she perceived that the good example, the industry, and ardent studiousness of Henrietta exerted a beneficial influence upon her daughter, and gradually corrected the faults which a too indulgent education and training had developed in her character. CHAPTER III. FIRST AFFLICTIONS. UNTIL this time, fortune had continued to smile on Anthony Lebrun. But happiness is a fugitive thing; and the iron hand of adversity at length fell on the in- mates of White Cottage. Several fishing excursions proved disastrous, not only from the scarcity of fish taken, but the still more serious loss of nets and sails. One day Anthony's boat struck a rock, and barely escaped being lost ; but the repairs made necessary by this accident caused a great breach in the modest savings fund of the family. A contagious disease having desolated the country, one after another, Anthony, his wife, and children, were all attacked by the scourge, until the last earnings of the family were obliged to be sacrificed. Notwithstanding this rapid succession of misfortunes, the fisherman did not lose courage. His health was soon restored ; and with fine weather, a few successful fishing excursions would accomplish the rest. Margaret endeavored to encourage this hope in the heart of her husband, and Henrietta followed her mo- ther's example. The young girl spoke cheerfully of the THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 15 magnificent appearance the garden presented, and the fine prospect for a future harvest of fruits and vegeta- bles. She insisted that without the least inconvenience they could retrench their expenses, and always ended by declaring that God would never make their burdens hea- vier than they were able to bear. These words of consolation animated her father's courage, and made him hopeful and resigned. Celestin, on his part, exerted himself to become more and more useful every day. It has been already stated that he was persevering and industrious ; he very soon qualified himself, notwithstanding his tender years, to take the place of a sailor on his father's boat. This sub- stitute diminished the expenses very materially. In the mean time, several voyages were made successfully ; so that prosperity and peace were once more restored to the White Cottage. One afternoon, the fisherman informed his wife that he was going on an expedition, and it would be at least four days before he would return, as his nets were to be spread at a point some considerable distance from home. Accompanied by Celestin, he started the next morning before day : the weather was fine, the sea smooth as glass ; and every thing bade fair for a successful voyage. However, the next day the wind changed ; and very soon the waves were beating furiously against the Nor- mandy coasts, and a rumor was heard that several fish- ing vessels had perished. The apprehension and distress with which Margaret and her daughter received the announcement may be imagined. With anxious hearts they inteirogated all 1 6 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. whom they thought might be able to give them some en- couragement ; but with every response their fears in- creased. One had seen Anthony's boat far out at sea; another declared that in the tempest, which threatened to continue for a long time, very few of the small vessels, gone out two days before, would be able to enter port. These unfortunate predictions seemed bound to be rea- lized. During an entire week they heard of the loss, one after another, of a great number of fishing vessels ; among them, alas ! was found that of Anthony Lebrun. One of his crew, who by a miracle had escaped ship- wreck, came to White Cottage, to break the intelligence to the unhappy Margaret, of her double calamity. She had lost her husband and her oldest son ; and with them the boat, which annihilated almost entirely the resources of the family. CHAPTER IV. CONSOLATION. THE angel of sorrow brooded with darkened wing over White Cottage. In vain Henrietta, with a degree of fortitude far beyond her years, exerted herself to revive the courage of her mother, and arouse her from the state of despairing apathy into which she had sunk. With eyes fixed and tearless, noticing nothing, nor uttering a word, Margaret Lebrun, but for the convulsive sighs that shook her frame from time to time, might have been tak- en for a marble statue of grief. For three days she had known the entire extent of the calamity that had fallen upon her, and yet, during all that time, had never been able to utter a word or shed a tear, that sad source of relief for the overburdened and despairing heart. During the course of the third day, Madame Hermier and Leonie arrived at White Cottage. Having been ab- sent from home, it was only on their return that morn- ing, they had learned the sad events that had occurred. Immediately, regardless of the fatigue they had experi- enced from traveling, the mother and daughter, without a moment's delay, hastened to offer the bereaved Marga- 1 8 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. ret and her daughter all the consolation and sympathy it was in human power to bestow. On entering the cottage, Leonie ran and threw her arms around the neck of her friend. " I have come to mingle my tears with yours, my dear Henrietta," "she exclaimed. " If the sincerest sympathy of true affection had power to alleviate your sorrow, be assured that I would take a large share of the burden that has fallen upon you." Henrietta could only answer by tears and sobs, as she leaned her head on the shoulder of her friend. Meanwhile Madame Hermier had taken poor Margaret's hands in both of her own, and strove to soothe and con- sole while she spoke of courage and resignation to the poor stricken wife and mother ; but it was all in vain. " Alas !" she murmured at length, in a tone of despair, "the loss of my husband and my first-born son has crushed all hope and courage from my heart ; I feel that I shall not long survive them." In spite of all that Madame Hermier and Leonie could say to dispel this impression, they were unable to divert or change the current of Margaret's thoughts. Her soul had been too cruelly torn and crushed to be capable, for a long time, of receiving consolation. Deeply moved with compassion, Madame Hermier was scarcely able to restrain her tears ; but suppressing her feelings with a strong effort, and the recollection that she had come to assist the poor woman, she immediately proceeded to make known her intentions. She did this with all the delicacy and discretion possible, in order not to wound the natural pride and sensitiveness of a person THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 19 who until this time had been sustained by and indebted to her own and her husband's exertions alone, for the ne- cessary resources of her family. Margaret listened to Madame Hermier without inter- rupting her. " Thank you," she at last gasped forth. " I thank you. As long as I live, my children, I -hope, will want for no- thing essential ; but as I have told you, already, madame, my energies are all crushed, my strength is exhausted. I shall not be here long with my family ; then, when I shall be no more, then remember my poor orphans, and ex- tend to them the generous kindness you have come to offer their mother." In vain Madame Hermier insisted; she found it im- possible to induce Margaret to accept her immediate assistance. " The produce of our garden will be all-sufficient," she persistently responded. " Besides, I can spin and knit ; we have enough ; how many thousands are far worse off than ourselves !" These noble and disinterested sentiments deeply affected Madame Hermier ; but while she admired the spirit of independence manifested by the afflicted Mar- garet, she still cherished the hope of being able to do something more for her than simply to offer consolation and sympathy. CHAPTER V. THE RETURN. MEANWHILE, as night was rapidly approaching, Leo- nie and her mother prepared to depart, when suddenly the sound of footsteps and joyous voices was heard without. At the same instant, the door was thrown open, and O joy inexpressible ! Anthony and Celestin stood on the threshold ! After such fearful suffering, this sudden return of happiness was too much for Margaret, who fell fainting into the arms of her husband and her son. For some time, they were apprehensive the violent shock had produced a fatal reaction ; but joy is a potent medicine : very soon Margaret began to revive, opened her eyes, and rested her gaze on the beloved faces of those whom she had believed lost forever. It was then Henrietta's turn, and that of her younger brother and sister, to embrace their father and Celestin. All were so overwhelmed with joy, so intensely happy, and Margaret so impatient to learn how her husband and son had been restored to her, after having been given up for dead, that Madame Hermier and her daughter, as well as the neighbors who had accompanied the two sailors THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 21 home, were entirely ignored or forgotten. Henrietta was the first to observe it, and to remind her mother of the apparent neglect. Margaret hastened immediately to thank her neigh- bors for having so kindly returned with Anthony and Celestin ; and then, in a few words, informed her husband of the generous assistance offered by Madame Hermier. In vain the latter endeavored to cut short their protesta- tions of gratitude ; Margaret felt too deeply grateful to permit this solemn occasion to pass without expressing her sentiments. When the excitement had somewhat subsided, Antho- ny was called on to give a detailed account of his ship- wreck and adventures. " We started out, as you all know," he said, " in most favorable weather, which continued until the next day ; when the tempest was suddenly unchained, a fearful storm arose, and we soon recognized that our loss was inevitable. In vain the most superhuman efforts were exerted ; every moment the danger became more threat- ening. The fatal instant arrived but too soon. An im- mense wave, rising mountain high, dashed upon and foundered our vessel. She sank instantly, and her entire crew was precipitated into the watery abyss. " When I arose to the surface, I saw two men at some distance from me trying to sustain themselves by clinging to the wreck of the boat. One of them I recognized as Celestin ; the other was Pierre, my best sailor. I made my way toward and joined them. To describe what we afterward suffered during those long hours we were toss- ed about at the mercy of the sea, would be impossible. 22 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. At length, God, in his mercy, permitted an English vessel to discover and pick us up. The captain and crew were lavish in their kindness and attentions. When we arriv- ed at the Isle of Wight, where the vessel was bound, we would at once have sailed for Havre ; but fatigue and excitement had thrown Celestin into a high fever, which only left him yesterday afternoon. This morning we started, and on arriving, heard the report that had been circulated of our death. Unhappily, the disaster has, after all, been but too correctly reported ; for out of six sailors, Pierre and the one who before arrived here have alone been able to escape with us. May God rest the souls of our poor brave companions !" Saying this, Anthony fell on his knees; every one followed his example, and a fervent prayer was repeated, in which all joined from the depths of their hearts. This duty accomplished, they then offered up a prayer of thanksgiving and gratitude for the unhoped-for return of Anthony and his son : the neighbors then took their leave, and in a few minutes no other strangers remained at White Cottage, except Madame Hermier and her daughter. " We will talk of our business affairs hereafter," said the former ; " now we will go, and leave you alone to en- joy your happiness. To-morrow we will come over and see you again." And escaping hurriedly from the renewed torrent of acknowledgments with which the whole Lebrun family would have overwhelmed them, she entered her carriage with Leonie, and drove rapidly back to The Elms. CHAPTER VI. UNEXPECTED TIDINGS. THE next day, it was necessary for Anthony to con- sider what means could be best devised for escaping the miseries entailed by the loss of his boat. That loss was evidently very great. " But, remember," explained Mar- garet, in the midst of a discussion concerning their diffi- culties, " remember, we have every thing to console us, since your life has been spared, and you are again re- stored to your family. We are indeed but too happy; we have only now to work a little harder, and all will be well." Anthony concluded that he and Celestin would go to Havre on the following day, and endeavor to find some owner of a fishing-boat, who would engage their services. Margaret strongly advised them to no longer follow the dangerous occupation of fishermen, but choose some other calling ; but it was too late to change their voca"- tion. Even Celestin, young as he was, already loved the sea too much to renounce it. But a few hours had pass- ed since he had barely escaped being the victim of a terrible catastrophe, and yet he was already impatient to brave new dangers. 24 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. All sailors are alike in this respect. Habituated to the constant change of scene and continued excitement attending their perilous voyages, they become restless and miserable, when detained for any length of time on land ; and age, with its infirmities, can alone induce them to abandon at last their adventurous calling. Madame Hermier, faithful to her promise, returned next day to confer with the Lebrun family. " I shall offer you nothing gratuitously," she said, when Margaret had informed her of her husband's inten- tion. " I know that you would refuse it ; but for the sake of your children, I think you might accept at least a sufficient sum for Anthony to buy an interest in some fishing vessel. You can return the money when you are able. In this way, the loss you have experiencd will not weigh so heavily on you." " We thank you with all our hearts, and we are indeed most truly grateful, my dear madame," said Anthony ; " but I must still refuse your kind offer ; and for this rea- son, the sea is so capricious. To-day we may gain a great deal to-morrow, we lose all we have gained. You would run the risk of waiting too long before we should be able to pay this debt." " You need not be uneasy on that account," replied Madame Hermier. " I repeat it again, that you can pay me whenever you are able. Am I not fully aware of your industry and capacity ? I have not forgotten that it was by your own labor and economy that you were ena- bled to buy a vessel in the beginning. Have no scruples then, and hesitate no longer about accepting the small service that I shall be so happy to render you." THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 25 How could such gracious benevolence be resisted? Anthony and his wife at length submitted to the argu- ments and persuasions of Madame Hermier, and accept- ed the -loan, which was indeed an unexpected relief for them, a succor that had changed the most painful feature in their position, by permitting Anthony not only to es- cape returning to the sea as a simple sailor, after having been master of a vessel, but also to aspire to a more ex- tensive business than before. All this being arranged, Margaret insisted that Ma- dame Hermier and Leonie should honor them by taking breakfast with the family. The invitation was accepted, and the richest milk, the most exquisite fruits, and fresh- est golden butter the cottage could produce, were spread on the snow-white cloth that covered their humble board. But good fortune seldom comes unattended. While they were at breakfast, conversing hopefully of the future, the postman entered, bringing a voluminous letter. The superscription was in a hand that seemed not altogether unknown to Anthony ; and yet he could not positively recognize it. But on reading the words, " My dear Bro- ther!" he could not credit his own senses, there must be some mistake, and all bewildered he sought the signa- ture. Then his eyes gushed with tears, and his voice trembled as he read the name, "William Lebrun." A cry of joy escaped his lips. " From my brother !" he ex- claimed. " My brother still lives ! My God, I thank Thee for this happiness !" CHAPTER VII. ADVENTURES OF WILLIAM LEBRUN. EVERY one partook of the joy and astonishment of Anthony, and urged him to read the letter aloud, which he immediately proceeded to do. It ran thus : " MY DEAR BROTHER : You have doubtless for long years believed me dead. Twenty years have passed since we parted, and adventures and events have with me succeeded each other so rapidly that you must pardon me for having delayed writing to you until this late hour. How often I have thought of you, my dear brother J And now, I indulge in the hope of enjoying but one hap- piness on earth that of beholding your face once more, and meeting your wife and children ! " And now, let me tell you by what a succession of curious events I have been brought to America, and be- come a rich Southern planter. Twenty years ago, when I embarked on the ' Alcyon,' I had, as you know, a great fancy for long voyages. I felt that I could never be sa- tisfied or happy, until I had traveled around the world, and seen something of new and unknown countries ; and I was resolved to seize the first opportunity favorable for THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 27 realizing my projects. The desired occasion soon pre- sented itself. " The vessel on which I had sailed foundered at sea, off the coast of Normandy. I, with great difficulty, es- caped death, and was taken up by a merchant-vessel, on board of which I met an Australian trader and merchant, who seemed to fancy me, and proposed I should engage in his service, in the capacity of clerk. I would proba- bly have refused this offer, had he not added that every year he made a long voyage, to purchase supplies and attend to other business, and would be glad to take me with him. " I accepted his proposition, and never had cause to regret it. Mr. Simpson was the name of this merchant ; he was one of the best and most honorable of men, and I shall ever retain for him the most affectionate and grate- ful remembrances. In his employ I passed five yeais. " Every spring, as he had told me, we traveled to the most distant portions of the island, and also visited the United States, in order to become acquainted with the principal fishermen and hunters who would then reserve for Mr. Simpson the choicest products of their labors. I accumulated a considerable amount on these trading ex- peditions, as my employer, being a true friend, gave me a large share in the profits, in order that I might feel inte- rested, and exert myself to be useful to him. "I had been in this situation five years, when, in consequence of the dishonesty of one of his agents, Mr. Simpson was called to New-York to look after his inte- rests. I was again his companion. While in that city, I heard them speak of the ' Trappers.' Now these trap- 28 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. pers are men who are not afraid to force their way into the unexplored regions of North-America, in quest of animals whose furs are valuable, and engage in traffic with the different tribes of Indians. " Hearing some of these hunters relate their adven- tures, I was completely carried away. They vainly re- presented the dangers to be encountered, the cruel death reserved for them by the savages, when they were so un- fortunate as to be captured, the horrible privations they had to endure, etc. Nothing could deter me or change the resolution I had made to join them ; my de- termination was irrevocable. I informed Mr. Simpson of my wish to become a trapper. He endeavored to re- monstrate, but I would listen to nothing, and ended the conversation by saying that, amid all the dangers of my new career, I would never forget the kindness I had re- ceived from him. " Seeing that he could not succeed in altering my de- termination, that excellent man resolved at least to give me a token of his friendship and good-will. He counted me out a sum much greater than the amount of my five years' savings (which I had left in Australia) ; then em- brracing me as though I had been his own son, he gave me the kindest advice, and finished, by assuring me, if I ever stood in need of assistance, I would find him ready to do all in his power to aid me. " Two days after, I left New-York with a band of trappers, and set out upon a long expedition. I will not detain you, my dear Anthony, with particulars of all I had to suffer during that campaign, and how I cursed the THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 29 spirit of reckless adventure that had induced me to un- dertake it. I will simply state that by dint of persever- ance I amassed a small fortune, and six years after my coup-de-tete, I arrived at New-Orleans, with the determi- nation of embarking for France. But* a singular inci- dent detained me in America, which I will now relate. " One night, while passing through an unfrequented street, I was attracted by cries, seeming to proceed from quite a handsome residence near by. I rushed toward the door, but found it strongly fastened. I vainly en- deavored to force it open, at the same time calling loud- ly for help ; when I perceived a window on the first story, the shutters of which had been negligently left open. I at once climbed into it, and found myself in a large hall, at the extremity of which a faint light gleamed through a half-open door. The cries I had at first heard continued, but grew more and more feeble. Making my way through a quantity of different kinds of furniture that filled the hall, I at last reached the back-door; I pushed it open, and a frightful spectacle met my view. A man of gigantic stature had thrown to the ground, and was holding down, with his knee on his breast, an- other man, old and feeble, upon whose head he was dealing violent blows, and inflicting wounds from which the blood ran in streams. On perceiving me, he rushed on me with poniard in hand ; but fortunately I had a pis- tol ; I fired, and the assassin, wounded in the breast, fell near his victim. At this moment, the house filled with people, neighbors attracted by my cries before entering the window. With their aid, the assassin was securely 30 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. bound, and the old man conducted to his bed, xeceived all the attention his condition required. After some time, he revived sufficiently to explain that the man who had so basely attacked him was one of his former over- seers. Furious .at losing his situation, this man had sworn to be revenged, and knowing that his old master intended to spend a week or two at his residence in the city, he had selected that time as being most favorable for the execution of his murderous purpose. " A fortnight after, and the assassin, who had not died of his wounds, was condemned to the State prison for life. " Mr. Richards, the old gentleman whose life I had saved, was a wealthy planter. He soon recovered from his wounds, and insisted that I should, by all means, re- turn with him to his plantation, on the borders of Lake Ponchartrain. I consented to accompany him on a visit. His residence was indeed magnificent, and situat- ed in a country of ravishing beauty. There was but one source of annoyance to me in this charming abode of luxury and wealth ; and that was to see the miserable slaves driven around like cattle, by the lash and cudgel of an inhuman overseer. Mr. Richards listened kindly to my opinions and remonstrances on this subject, for he was truly a good man ; and very soon proposed that I should myself assume the management of his estate. I accepted the proposition of my patron, who treated me more like a friend than a master, and seemed highly pleased with the manner in which I accomplished the duties of my position. But alas ! in less than two years THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 31 after I had met him, we were separated by death ; he died, leaving me, in his will, a considerable legacy, as a testi- monial, he said, of his gratitude for the services I had rendered him. " Mr. Richards, being a widower, without children, his property reverted to his distant relatives, who, not being able to agree upon a division, the estate was brought to sale. " My legacy, together with the sum I had acquired as a trapper, amounted to a considerable fortune, and the idea occurred to me, of becoming, in my turn, a planter. Accordingly I bought the plantation on Lake Ponchar- train. " Here, for eight years now, I have been proprietor ; during that time, my fortune has greatly increased ; I am rich, even very rich ; and I require nothing but a family to complete my happiness. I am scarcely forty- five ; but the hardships and exposure suffered during my hunting expeditions in North-America have made me prematurely old. I would like very much to return to France, my dear native country of Havre, and embrace you all once more. But unfortunately I could not do this without compromising very seriously my interests here, and as those interests, dear Anthony, are identical with those of your family, I must guard them very care- fully. " However, I can not remain here any longer alone, and I have now this request to make of you. I have asked a friend from New-Orleans to inquire about you, and from him I learn that you are married, and have 32 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. four children, the eldest of whom is an interesting girl of about twelve or thirteen years. Now, the request I have to make of you, dear brother, is, that you will send my niece out to me. She will be perfectly happy here, be- lieve me ; the superintendent's wife, whom I have in- trusted with the direction of my household affairs, is in every respect a competent person, and would take the place of a devoted mother toward your child. " It consoles me greatly, my dear brother, to think that you will not oppose this arrangement, on which I have built my dearest hopes. I want to make my niece a wealthy heiress ; but I also desire to have her company for my own benefit. Her society will indeed be most consoling to me, now that the infirmities of age are be- ginning to weigh upon me. Do not refuse me this hap- piness, Anthony. Consider how the sacrifice I demand will contribute to the good of your family in the end. Besides, I do not believe I shall live very long ; a few years will quickly pass away, and then your daughter will return to you, and you will welcome her with re- newed joy. " I beg you to remember me affectionately to my sis- ter your good wife, and all your children, whom I would so much like to see. As for you, my dear brother, be- lieve me I love you as dearly as when, in the beautiful days of our childhood, we played together around our mother's knee. "And now, adieu, dear Anthony. I fear we shall never meet again on earth ; because, as I have said, I THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 33 am already a very old man ; but until the last moment of my life, believe me I shall ever remain, " Your devoted brother, "WILLIAM LEBRUN." "LAKE PONCHARTRAIN, VILLA OF THE ACACIAS." There was a note inclosed in the letter, containing these lines : " I have ascertained, dear Anthony, that by your in- dustry you have acquired a competence ; and I am hap- py to hear it : but in spite of the pride which I know you possess, you will, I hope, not feel offended that I have spoken of your pecuniary affairs ? Consider, my brother, that the occupation of a sailor is a very precarious one, and that you have to provide for the wants of your chil- dren. Let me renew, then, my request that you send your oldest daughter to me, and permit me to offer you, for her sister and brothers, and your wife, the little gift here inclosed. " By this same mail, I have written to Mr. Berlin, of Havre, the business agent of one of my friends, to hand you two thousand francs, as passage-money for my niece, and to furnish her with the trousseau she will require. "W. L." The " small present," spoken of by the planter in his letter, was a draft for ten thousand francs, deposited with Mr. Bertin. We will not repeat all the reflections to which this narrative of Mr. William Lebrun's adventures gave rise, 34 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. nor the astonishment caused by his requesting Henrietta to be sent to him. Anthony was deeply affected by his brother's letter ; he was most happy to know that he still lived, and that fortune had favored him ; but, while grateful for the be- nefits William wished to bestow on him, he could not, at the same time, tolerate the idea of being separated from his daughter. CHAPTER VIII. NEW SORROWS. His brother's donation placed Anthony Lebrun in a condition to re-establish himself far beyond his most sanguine expectations, and at the same time relieved him from the disagreeable necessity of borrowing. It is true, Madame Hermier was no ordinary creditor ; but not to be compelled to borrow any sum, however insignificant it might be, was a positive relief to Anthony Lebrun. He felt no less grateful to Madame Hermier, for her gene- rous offer, however, and the friendship between the two families became as intimate as possible, under the cir- cumstances of their respective positions. Thus, their usual quiet contentment and happiness was again restored to the inmates of White Cottage. A handsome new boat replaced the one lost in the storm. An extensive piece of ground, contiguous to the garden, was bought, and promised to become very productive. These acquisitions not having exhausted the money sent by his brother, the remainder was, by Madame Hermier's advice, advantageously invested, to serve as a resource in case of any unforeseen accident or necessity. A very affectionate and grateful letter was dispatch- 36 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. ed to the planter, declining his urgent proposal to Hen- rietta, but at the same time imploring him to leave Ame- rica, and return to reside with his own family in France. Although she loved her parents most tenderly, Hen- rietta could not avoid sometimes thinking of the delight- ful journey she would have had, in going out to her uncle, and her vivid imagination represented the voyage and countries she might have visited in such glowing colors that she was frequently astonished at finding herself re- gretting her father's decision. To divert her mind from dwelling on these regrets, she begged Leonie to loan her some voyages of discovery, and these books, especially those treating of that portion of America in which her uncle William Lebrun lived, became her favorite studies, though many times even the descriptions she read made her sigh ! Nearly a year had passed in this manner. Winter had come, and with it a number of violent storms had desolated the coast of the channel. These inauspicious visitations continued to succeed each other without in- termission. Among the population of the coast the de- solation and destruction were without a parallel. There was not a family but had lost either some of its members, or the greater part of its resources ; and upon many of them both these misfortunes had fallen at the same time. Up to this period, Anthony Lebrun had experienced no new disasters ; but very soon he was taken with a violent attack of acute rheumatism, that confined him for months entirely to the house. He was compelled to consign his boat to one of his friends, whom he considered reliable ; but a month had scarcely passed, after the change of THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 37 commanders, before the vessel, badly managed during a storm, was dashed to pieces on the rocks. More than half the crew perished ; but fortunately, his son, Celestin, be- ing slightly indisposed, had not gone out on this voyage. He could not for a moment think of buying another boat ; without this loss, Anthony would have scarcely been able to meet his requirements, and it proved but the prelude to a succession of misfortunes that were about to befall him. His wife became, and for a long time continued, violently ill ; he himself required con- stant nursing ; and after all his expenses and indebted- ness had been settled, not only the money placed at in- terest was absorbed, but he was compelled besides to bor- row, giving a mortgage on the little property of the White Cottage for the amount. Anthony vainly endeavored to struggle against these misfortunes ; vainly endeavored to return to the sea as a common sailor ; his limbs, tortured by rheumatism, con- tinued to prevent all such exertions, and very soon his situation became so desperate, he was driven to the con- sideration of selling his beautiful White Cottage home. At the bare idea of such a necessity being imminent, the entire family were plunged in tears. 461504 CHAPTER IX. TWO DEPARTURES. ONE evening, after a. more unprofitable day's work than usual, Celestin could no longer conceal his dissatis- faction, and summoning all the courage of which he was master, ventured to ask permission of his parents 19 en- gage on board a merchant-vessel. " I am now almost thirteen years old," he argued ; " I am a large boy, stout and hardy ; I understand my business, and I am not afraid to work ; let me then en- gage in trade. Just now, the three-mast ship ' L' Espe- rance,' belonging to Mr. Bertin, brother of the banker, is about starting on a long voyage to China and Japan. I have been speaking to Mr. Bertin, and I feel almost sure he will give me a good position, because I am accustom- ed to the sea. In this way, at least, I can assist you, by sending you my wages." Margaret Lebrun burst into tears on hearing this ge- nerous proposal. "No, no! "she replied,"! can never consent to be separated from you, my dear child, on a voyage so long and uncertain." " But consider, dear mother," replied Celestin " that sooner or later it must come to this. Here, now, my fa- THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 39 ther's boat is lost again, and I have no chance of doing any thing at all, while if I go on a long voyage like this, I can be of very great assistance to you." " Celestin is right," interrupted his father. " I must say I approve of his plan entirely, not because of the ad- vantage it will be to us, but for the opportunity it affords him of traveling and learning something of the world. He is industrious and intelligent, and the simple calling of a fisherman is not suited to him. We will let him en- gage on board the ' Hope.' God will watch over and protect him, and bring him back to us again, uncontam- inated by vice or folly, steadfast and faithful to the pure principles we have always endeavored to instill into his heart." Anthony could say no more ; for notwithstanding his apparent firmness, the idea of Celestin 's leaving home almost broke his heart. As for Margaret, she covered her face with her apron and wept bitterly ; Henrietta also wept ; while Emily and little Henry, seeing the tears of their parents and sister, clung sobbing to Celestin, as though he was that moment going to leave them. Eight hours later, and the youth sailed from Havre, on a voyage that would require him to be absent at least two years. This separation was not the only sacrifice, however, that was to be required of Anthony and Margaret. A second letter from William Lebrun peremptorily de- manded that Henrietta should be sent, without delay, to New-Orleans. If this request was complied with, the planter instructed his brother to draw on Bertin, the banker, for money as he needed it, to the amount of ten 40 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. thousand francs. He added that unless Henrietta was sent, this would be the last letter they would receive, and the family should be disinherited. What response should be made to this ? Anthony men- tally asked himself, looking in despair at his deplorable condition. He felt that it would be necessarily a long time before he could think of being able to work, and even if his health was restored, he could not hope for sufficient strength to endure any hard labor. His wife's health grew feebler every day, and he was not able to provide her with actual necessaries. Emily and Henry, although young, had begun to suffer from the privations they endured ; and Henrietta even, in spite of her vigo- rous constitution and courageous nature, grew every day paler and more delicate. Such a condition of things was intolerable. Too proud to ask assistance from any one, Anthony preferred being deprived of another child rather than apply to Madame Hermier. And yet that estimable lady and her daughter had done every thing possible to overcome the poor father's scrupulous pride. One evening, at last, Anthony took up courage, and made some remark about accepting the offer of his broth- er. He was interrupted immediately by the tears and entreaties of his wife ; but Henrietta at once spoke, and encouraged the idea. "Remember, my dear father and mother," she ex- claimed, " that this journey you so much dread would at once put an end to all our difficulties. Uncle offers to leave you his entire fortune, if I will go after it ; and there is no other possible way for us to escape from the THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 41 desperate condition surrounding us. Would it not be better that this fortune should become ours rather than to fall into the hands of strangers ? It is to be hoped, moreover, that once I get there I shall not find it diffi- cult to persuade uncle to return to France. We shall never obtain this result by writing letters to him, you know. Imagine our happiness should I come back bringing him with me !" "If I could go along and take care of you," inter- rupted Margaret, "I should probably be resigned; but alone, at your age, I can never consent for you to take such a journey." "We can find out when the vessels sail," replied Henrietta; "almost every time, there are ladies going alone, or with their families. It would not be difficult, I am sure, to find some one who would be willing to take me under her care, during the voyage." And as Anthony seemed to approve of his daughter's resolution, Margaret saw very well that she would have to be resigned to another separation. Madame Hermier, when informed of the project, said she was acquainted with a Creole lady, the widow of a sea-captain, who expected very soon to return to Ameri- ca and her native city of New-Orleans. This lady would embark in the month of May ; and at the request of her friend, Madame Hermier, would doubtless be willing to take Henrietta under her protection during the voyage. In the course of two days, every thing was decided, and the young girl's passage engaged. This was near the end of March ; an entire month remained, during which the necessary preparations were to be made. An- 42 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. thony wrote immediately to his brother, apprising him of the date of Henrietta's anticipated departure, and the probable time of her arrival at New-Orleans. How rapidly the time passed, bringing the moment of separation ! Already the hour for parting had arriv- ed, and yet it seemed she had said nothing of so much there was to say to her beloved parents. At last, bathed in tears, Henrietta, with difficulty, tore herself from the arms of her devoted family, and all those she so dearly loved and by whom she was so fondly cherished. " Have courage !" she said, endeavoring to force back her tears. " In a little while I will return, and bring uncle with me, and just imagine what joy, what happiness will be ours then!" Madame Hermier and her daughter were deeply af- fected by these touching farewells, and consoled Henri- etta, by promising to visit her family very often. "Have no fears," said Leonie; "I will try and con- sole them so well that they will scarcely have time to miss you, before you will be back again, and " At that moment, the ship's bell sounded for depart- ing, and Henrietta was hurried on board, CHAPTER X. THE VOYAGE AN UNEXPECTED DIFFICULTY. THE vessel on which our young heroine sailed was not bound directly for New-Orleans ; the captain having first to convey some instructions or orders to a colony located on the coast of Senegambia. The voyage, on this account, was considerably prolonged. Notwith- standing the inconvenience of such a necessity, Madame Delmont, the lady under whose protection Henrietta had been placed, preferred sailing on the " Swallow" because the captain of that vessel had been a friend of her hus- band. The first few days they were favored with a smooth sea and most beautiful weather. Henrietta, although much depressed and very sad for some time after parting with her parents, soon recovered her cheerfulness. " It is for their benefit that I am going," she reflected ; " then why should I regret it?" Then she began to wonder how she would feel and act, when she arrived at her uncle's ; and very soon, carried away by her imagination, she was dreaming joyfully of all she would be able to do to con- tribute to his happiness. Surely it would not be very long either, before he would decide upon returning to France. 44 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. She was influenced also by another cause of happi- ness, at first not very definite, but which, by degrees, as- sumed a prominent place in the young girl's thoughts. She was now about to realize the beautiful dreams in which she had so often indulged while reading the books loaned her by Leonie. What pleasure might she not an- ticipate in traveling through those distant countries, the mere description of which had so delighted her ! Enjoying these brilliant anticipations and the affec- tionate kindness of Madame Delmont, Henrietta found the time passing rapidly enough. Besides, being always disposed to make herself useful, she found a thousand kind offices to perform for the children of her protec- tress. She amused them by relating stories that had been told her in childhood ; watched over them with constant solicitude, when they promenaded the deck of the ves- sel ; in fact, she took entirely the place of their mother, who had been suffering from sea-sickness, and unable to leave her state-room since the day she embarked. Near the coast of Senegambia, the weather, which had until then been most favorable, became quite tem- pestuous, and the captain prudently resolved to run into the first bay that seemed to offer sufficient shelter. This proved to be no vain precaution ; during eight en- tire days a violent storm continued to rage, and the ship, notwithstanding the protection afforded by the harbor, suffered considerable damage. When the storm had ceased, the captain hastened to have all necessary repairs made, and permitted his crew to go on shore for recreation, after the fatigue they had THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 45 undergone. Madame Delmont, accompanied by her children and Henrietta, also landed. They found a small negro hamlet near the beach, and, not far distant, several houses or habitations occupied by Europeans, engaged in the ivory trade, also trading in gold-dust, gums, spices, palm-oil, and other products of this African country. These colonists, the majority of whom were French, rejoiced at this unexpected visit of their countrymen, gave the sailors and passengers a cordial welcome, and dispatched a quantity of fresh pro- visions to the ship. The entire day passed rapidly and pleasantly. Toward evening, the captain gave the sig- nal for departure. Just as they reached the beach, the most frightful howlings and cries arose from the negro hamlet, and a troop of armed warriors rushed upon the crew who were returning to the ship. In the first moment of surprise, the sailors, unprepar- ed for the attack, defended themselves badly, and several were wounded. At last, the colonists, who had come down to see them off, succeeded in quelling the tumult, and demand- ed the cause of the aggression. A gigantic negro immediately advanced, gesticulat- ing violently, and holding up the body of a serpent that one of the sailors had killed with his sabre. Seven or eight feet long, the reptile had an immense round head ; his skin was gray, richly painted with the most brilliant hues of yellow, blue, and brown, with a small pointed tail. " Ah !" exclaimed one of the colonists, "who has been so unfortunate as to kill this serpent? It is held 46 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. sacred by the negroes, is one of their idols, and we shall find it difficult to appease their wrath." And so it proved ; for in a few moments they again renewed the assault. It was with great difficulty the cap- tain succeeded in embarking his crew and passengers, and, notwithstanding the expedition with which the boats pushed off from the shore, more than one of the enemies' arrows took effect upon the fugitives. They had scarcely gotten on board the vessel, when Madame Delmont uttered a cry of horror. She then, for the first time, discovered that Henrietta was missing; she had been left on shore. In the alarm and confusion caused by the sudden attack, she scarcely had strength to save her own children. But recovering from this pros- tration, she immediately looked around, supposing Hen- rietta had followed her. What had become of the unfor- tunate young girl ? The distracted woman implored the captain to return to land, wringing her hands in de- spair. This child, confided to her care, had doubtless already been massacred by those negro savages. The utmost consternation reigned throughout the ship at this intelligence. By her affability and gentle deportment, Henrietta had gained the love of all on board; therefore the sailors in a body volunteered to return to land in search of her. The captain selected those whom he knew possessed the greatest shrewdness, courage, and prudence ; then, transferring the command of the ship to his second mate, went himself to direct the expedition. It was with great difficulty Madame Delmont could be prevented from returning with them to the shore, THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 47 The young girl must be found, she insisted, and bitterly reproached herself for having lost sight of her : finally, forcible measures were obliged to be used to compel the distracted woman to remain on the vessel. All in vain the captain and sailors scoured the country around the negro village ; in vain they interro- gated a number of negroes whom they captured. The entire night and the following day were spent in fruit- less searches. At last, they were forced to conclude that Henrietta had been murdered and her body buried or concealed. The colonists themselves, not daring, with- out imperiling their own safety, to openly take part with the people of the ship, went secretly among the blacks to make inquiry, but were unable to obtain the slightest clue to the fate of the unfortunate girl. Com- pelled, at length, to abandon the useless search, the cap- tain and sailors returned sadly to the vessel, while Ma- dame Delmont, on seeing them return alone, was over- whelmed anew with an agony of grief and remorse. CHAPTER XI. THE SACRED SERPENT. HENRIETTA was not dead. Made prisoner, and so closely bound as scarcely to be able to move, she was taken into one of the negro cabins, and there, thrown in a dark corner on the ground, she awaited in terror the fate reserved for her. It would doubtless be a fearful one! "O my poor mother, my dear father!" she mur- mured in the agony of despair ; " you are dreaming of me. Doubtless you are saying now, that very soon I shall be happy with my uncle. Could you only know where I am, and what my fate is to be in a few hours !" And her very thoughts were stifled by tears and sobs. How, in- deed, could a child of scarcely fourteen years contem- plate with serene composure the cruel termination that threatened her young life ? In spirit she was transport- ed to her beloved home at White Cottage ; one after an- other, every circumstance of her tranquil, happy life passed in succession before her, and she clasped to her heart in imagination her dear parents, Celestin, Emily, and Henry, her precious little brother and godson. At last, fatigue overcame both terror and wretched- ness, and exhausted she sank into a feverish slumber. For an hour, perhaps, she slept, when a sudden sensa- THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 49 tion of coldness on one of her hands, caused her to start up with an impression of dread. She opened her eyes, and what was her terror on discovering, through the almost perfect darkness surrounding her, an enor- mous serpent twined around her arms, precisely similar to the one whose death by the sailor had caused the calamity by which she had been overtaken ! She tried to cry out, but her voice died away on her lips. Bound as she was, it was impossible to defend herself ; besides, how utterly useless to struggle against such an enormous reptile ! Seized with a mortal terror, she was prevented from noticing that the serpent seemed disposed to do her no harm. On the contrary, he rubbed his great round head against her arms and hands, as if desiring to be ca- ressed ; and at length, coiling himself up in a circle on her knees, he went to sleep. Astonished at this, Henrietta concluded that the rep- tile must be inoffensive, yet, although slightly reassured by this supposition, with a very natural feeling of repug- nance, she felt inclined to throw it out of her lap, but the idea of having it again wrapping and coiling itself around her body prevented her from making the slight- est movement. This strange and frightful position was prolonged for several hours. To\vard midnight loud cries suddenly be- gan to resound near the door of the prisoner's hut, and a crowd of negroes, men, women, and children, rushed in One of the blacks, a gigantic and powerful creature, advanced toward Henrietta, armed with an old Euro- pean sabre. He was in the act of bringing the weapon down on the young girl's head, when he perceived the serpent. With a yell of surprise, he fell prostrate on the ground. The whole crowd followed his example, and before Henrietta had recovered from her astonishment, they had removed the cords that bound her, and a pro- fusion of refreshments, consisting of fruits, palm-wine, etc., were placed before her. The first impulse, on regaining her liberty, was to cast the serpent to the ground, but instantly she saw some women approaching the reptile with a jar of milk, and sinking on their knees before it, waited patiently and reverently for it to drink. All at once it occurred to Henrietta, that she had read in one of Leonie's books, that the negroes worship- ed an infinity of objects, animate and inanimate, which they call fetiches. She remembered, also, at the moment she was captured, of hearing one of the colonists say something about the " sacred serpent." All fear of the reptile then disappeared, and she returned fervent thanks to God for the visible protection he had extended around her. Seeing the young girl clasp her hands, the negroes supposed it to be an act of adoration offered to their idol, and their kind attentions increased. They brought in a great quantity of leaves and moss, and spread them down in a corner of the hut, to serve as a bed, and then, all together, retired in silence. Left alone, Henrietta tremblingly endeavored to rid herself of the serpent, which still lay sleeping on her knees; She was not yet assured that this species of snake was perfectly docile and not at all venomous. The negroes held it in great veneration because of its THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 51 making furious war upon the poisonous reptiles so nu- merous throughout Africa, and especially a kind of black viper, about ten feet long, whose bite always proved fatal. Although exhausted by the rapid succession of emo- tions through which she had passed, the young girl look- ed around her to discover, if possible, some means by which to make her escape ; but all hope fled when she heard the sound of footsteps and voices, and perceived, through the openings between the logs of which the hut was built, that a guard had been placed around it. She then endeavored to resign herself to her fate as a prison- er, yet, notwithstanding the wretchedness caused by the hopeless condition surrounding her, the young girl felt more composed. " My God !" she cried, with a sudden outburst of grateful fervor and steadfast faith, "my God ! Thou hast already miraculously snatched me from the jaws of death ; in Thee alone do I place my trust : watch over me, and in the plenitude of Thy goodness and mercy, abandon not Thy helpless child !" Resigning herself entirely into the hands of God, with a last lingering thought to parents and home, she retired to her rude couch of leaves and moss, and was soon wrapped in a quiet slumber. CHAPTER XII. HENRIETTA'S SUFFERINGS. FOR three days Henrietta was kept a prisoner, and the hut strictly guarded, where every night the " sacred serpent" came to sleep. On the fourth day, she was con- ducted from her lodging, and taken off to a great dis- tance, to gather sticks and dead branches for fire-wood. Reaching the summit of a small hill, she came in view of the ocean, but looked in vain for a glimpse of the ship ; the bay was deserted, not a sail to be seen. Poor Henrietta ! she was indeed abandoned ! The conviction seemed so cruel that, overwhelmed by a sense of her misery, she threw herself on the ground in an agony of tears and grief. The negroes who accompanied her, although they treated her with a certain degree of deference, imme- diately gathered around, and with earnest and threaten- ing gestures, commanded her to return to her task. She was compelled to obey. The work assigned the poor girl was not in itself very painful or laborious ; but was rendered intolerable from having to be accomplished under the burning rays of THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 53 a tropical sun. Henrietta was incessantly consumed by an intense thirst, besides being kept in perpetual dread ; as in traversing the forests, and making her way through the dense shrubbery, at every step she could hear the black viper's hiss, while thousands of strange and horri- ble insects were flying and buzzing in swarms around her. Monkeys were leaping and chattering among the branches of the trees, and every moment a loud roaring sound announced that a lion, panther, or leopard had been aroused from his slumbers. Toward midday, when the sun's rays were hottest, Henrietta, exhausted and faint, ventured to take a few moments' repose. Her guards seeming to offer no objec- tion, she laid herself down at the foot of a palm-tree, whose large leaves afforded a slight shade. In a very short time, however, she was compelled to get up and resume her task. When evening came on, they returned to the village, and the young girl was again shut up in the hut. More than an entire month passed away, during which each succeeding day was a repetition of the last. Henrietta was obliged to go to the woods, but from com- passion on the part of her keepers, or some other motive, she was not ill-treated ; they only forced her to eat im- moderately, and, in spite of her entreaties, would scarcely ever permit her to drink. When, impelled by a burning thirst, she would approach a stream of water, or if she even tried to chew the green leaves, in order to moisten her parched lips and tongue, they would always prevent her. This mysterious conduct was very soon explained. 54 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. With their own idiom, the negroes had mixed some French words, and, at the end of a fortnight, Henrietta was enabled, by paying close attention, to understand slightly what they said. In this way, she discovered their object was \.o fatten her, in order that she might become more worthy of being immolated to their idols, on a so- lemn festival which was to take place at the next full moon, the usual season of devotion and rejoicing with the African people. At this discovery Henrietta's last hope vanished ; but her confidence in God was not for a moment shaken. " My life is in His hands," she exclaimed ; " not a hair of my head can fall to the ground without His permission. May His holy will be done !" The day before the full moon, she was conducted for the last time to the fields. It was six o'clock in the morning when they arrived. While working, and with- out being conscious of it herself, she wandered far away from her dusky companions, and was left entirely alone with the exception of one woman. The two were just in the act of starting to rejoin the group, when a frightful roar was heard, and an enormous lion rushed furiously from the thicket. Before they could move, the ferocious animal had sprung upon the negress, strangled her, and then proceeded deliberately to devour her, all the time keeping his haggard and bloodshot eyes fixed on Henri- etta. How the child had strength to fly, it is impossible to conceive, but she made her escape. What were her feel- ings, when, as night came on, she found herself alone, in the midst of an immense plain, and far away from e.ven 55 the negro village, it is difficult to imagine. But one idea alone inspired her with courage ; she was free ! there was a radiant joy in the thought, though all around her lurk- ed darkness and danger ! But after the first moment of ecstasy had passed, and the full consciousness of her perilous position flashed upon her, an intense anguish took possession of her soul. What had she really gained by her escape ? How, all alone, would she be able to direct her course through this savage country, where, at every step, mortal dangers were to be encountered ? And even if she succeeded in escaping the fangs of wild beasts and venomous reptiles, what could save her from the deadly grasp of starvation ? And yet, despite these gloomy reflections, a gleam of hope dawned in the heart of Henrietta. " Why not aban- don myself entirely into the hands of divine Provi- dence?" she exclaimed mentally; "how ungrateful in me to act otherwise ! Has it not been God who has so miraculously and visibly led me by the hand through the midst of every peril, even until this hour ?" These reflections aroused all her courage ; and, too inexperienced to comprehend the entire extent of the difficulties in the way of her deliverance, she started re- solutely across the plain. Darkness very soon began to close around her its gloomy folds, as in these torrid regions there is, properly speaking, no twilight ; and she hastened to find a shelter for the night. After many unsuccessful efforts, she at length found a small tree growing at the foot of a palm, into which she climbed, and from thence reached the junction of two large palm-branches which she thought $6 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. would afford her a secure lodging-place for the night. Her condition was indeed pitiable ; her hands were torn and bleeding, her face lacerated by thorns ; but all fear had passed away, leaving her soul perfectly calm and serene. She was hoping against hope; had "cast her burdens upon the Lord," and, although food had not passed her lips since the evening before, she soon fell into a peaceful slumber. In this position she passed the night. More than once she was aroused by the cries of wild beasts, and in every direction around her could discern, gleaming through the darkness, the mottled forms of serpents twining and untwining themselves about the trunks of the trees. Morning at length dawned, dispelling a portion, at least, of 'the gloom and terror surrounding her. With the first gleam of light, she descended from the palm and recommenced her journey across the plain. She gather- ed some fruits, that slightly appeased her hunger ; but constantly tormented with thirst, she sought to find a stream of water. Listening attentively, she at last thought she heard a distant murmur, resembling the sound of running water. Following the direction of the sound, after an hour's fatiguing walk, she reached the bank of a river, whose rapid flow, over a bed of rocks, produced the noise that had attracted her. With great difficulty, Henrietta succeeded in de- scending the steep, rugged banks of the river, and dip- ping up some water with her hand, carried it eagerly to her lips. An intolerable odor of musk, and a strange disagreeable taste, caused her to reject it as quickly in THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 57 disgust. Looking around her, the cause of this taste and smell was at once explained. Great numbers of sleeping crocodiles covered the surface of the water, and, half dead with terror, the young girl with difficulty clambered up the steep bank of the river, and resumed her sad and perilous journey. CHAPTER XIII. THE MELOCACTUS THE COLONIST AND HIS FAMILY. AFRICA is a country of most wonderful fertility. The trees grow to an enormous size, such as the manchi- neel and Indian date or great palm-tree ; but above all, the gigantic baobab, or Adansoria digitata, the king of the forest, whose branches grow in the form of a dome, and are capable of giving shelter to two thousand persons ; the immense trunk, thirty feet in diameter, when hollow- ed out by time, or the dexterity of the negroes, will con- tain thirty persons. Herbs and plants grow also to a wonderful size and height ; among them a profuse vari- ety of cactus, aloes, and other plants, bulbous and thor- ny. The flowers are magnificent, and the most delightful perfumes emanate from every thicket and are exhaled from every brush. Swarms of insects of every variety and form live in the midst of this luxurious vegetation. Countless numbers of birds of the richest plumage, the bengalis, rollers, and parrots, suspend their nests from the smallest branches. The marshes are inhabited by flamingoes, storks, and guinea fowls ; and in the deserts we encounter the ostrich and giraffe. Multitudes of monkeys inhabit the forests ; among them, and most re- markable above all, the frightful chimpanzee, or orang- outang. THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 59 When night came on, the deep azure vault of heaven was covered with stars and constellations, the most brilliant and beautiful of which is the " South- ern Cross." But amid all these magnificent surround- ings, dangers are intermingled, and every moment lurking. Lions, tigers, leopards, panthers, the rhi- noceros and buffalo, infest the forests and cliffs. The banks of the smallest water -courses swarm with croco- diles, and close by, in the vicinity of the rivers, lies the hippopotamus. Serpents abound in infinite multitudes, from the immense boa-constrictor down to the tiny rep- tile called de verre, scarcely the third of an inch in length, which lies concealed in the calixes of flowers, and whose bite is always fatal. Swarms of locusts often come, and, in a few hours, reduce the most verdant coun- try to a desert waste. Scorpions are innumerable, and the white ants or termites spread far and wide their ra- vages. To all these disadvantages is added a most insalu- brious climate. The swamps, the great luxuriance of ve- getation, together with the alternate dryness and humi- dity of the atmosphere, produce terrible fevers, which very few Europeans are able to resist. Finally, and above all other dangers, are the various tribes of negroes to be encountered, some of whom are cannibals, and al- most all are ferocious savages. It was, then, in the midst of these thousand dangers Henrietta had to make her way. Would she ever be able to escape ? On leaving the river, she walked, or rather, dragged herself along in a westerly direction. Fortunately, she 60 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. had learned from her father how to be guided by the si- tuation of the sun and stars. Again she ate fruits ; but had nothing to quench her burning thirst, until at length she found a plant called the melocactus or melon-thistle, from which she had seen the negroes take a sweet and refreshing juice ; she hastened to break some of these, and they satisfied her intense thirst. During an entire week Henrietta had traveled, and yet the plain seemed to stretch out in endless length be- fore her. But we will not dwell on these sad details. On the morning of the eighth day, a forest appeared in the distance, and the report of a gun reached her. Imme- diately the courage of the young girl revived, because she believed the gun had been fired by some of the colo- nists. God, who, since her escape from the negroes, had so visibly watched over her, permitted her not to be de- ceived. It was an inhabitant of a settlement about ninety miles from the place Henrietta had landed, a gentleman who was out engaged in hunting. As soon as she came in sight of him, forgetting her fatigue, the young girl ran toward him, and throwing herself at his feet, implored him to have pity on her. So intense was her emotion, she was not able to finish her prayer, but fell fainting at his feet. The astonished colonist hastened to render her all the assistance in his power, and when she recovered from her swoon, requested to know by what train of circum- stances she had been brought all alone to the confines of an African desert. The question was asked in English ; but Mr. Thompson for such was the gentleman's name THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 61 knew a little French ; thus the young girl was enabled to give him a succinct account of all her misfortunes. The recital deeply moved Mr. Thompson, who pro- mised immediately to interest himself in securing her a passage to New- Orleans ; but until a vessel could be found, on which he could confide her with safety, she would be welcome, he said, to remain in his family, and his wife and daughters would do every thing in their power to make her comfortable and happy. After these kind assurances, the colonist gave her a portion of the provisions in his game-bag ; then placing her on his horse, he started toward the settlement. With what joy Henrietta again beheld the faces of Europeans, and how her heart overflowed with gratitude when Mrs. Thompson and her daughter hastened to wel- come her, and lavished on her all those kind cares and attentions of which she stood in such pressing need! Their cares became still more necessary and devoted during the night after her arrival ; the sufferings she had undergone had given so great a shock to her system that she was stricken down with a high fever, which in a few days reduced her to the last extremity. The devotion of her kind hostess and daughters again saved her from this danger, and a month after her arrival among them, she had recovered sufficiently to be able to undertake another voyage. Notwithstanding the kindness with which she was treated, she awaited with the greatest impatience the ar- rival of an opportunity to continue her journey. Every day found her on the sea-shore, anxiously watching the horizon, to see if a vessel appeared, which might con- 62 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. duct her to the end of the journey so unfortunately in- terrupted. Day after day passed, and still no ship des- tined for New-Orleans entered the port; and the disap- pointed child at last almost abandoned herself to despair. " Don't give up or feel discouraged," said Natalie, the eldest daughter of Mrs. Thompson ; " it can not be long before a vessel comes in, and you will soon be with your dear uncle. But I assure you, I should like nothing better than to have you remain here with us. We have found you so amiable and pleasant, we shall all regret your departure." u Yes, indeed," said Eva, the youngest sister, " I shall feel, my dear Miss Henrietta, truly sorry when you leave us. I wish you did not have to go ; but I hope, however, you will sometimes think of us." " Think of you !" cried Henrietta ; " can you doubt it for a moment! What do I not owe your family? Has your dear father not saved my life? But for him I should have died in the desert. My strength was ex- hausted, and I should have soon become the prey of lions or the victim of savage negroes. And then, think of all your dear, good mother and yourselves have done for me since my arrival here. You could not have bestowed more generous attention and care on a daughter or a beloved sister ! Believe me, I never can be so ungrate- ful as to forget you !" And saying this, she threw herself into the arms of her young friends, and they exchanged tearful protesta- tions of love and fidelity. A little more than three months had passed since Henrietta had been captured by the negroes. THE FISHERMAN'S PAUGHTER. 63 "Ah !" she would often reflect, "if this unfortunate affair had not taken place, I should long since have been happy with my uncle ! Now he believes me dead, and has doubtless written to my parents that I am ! O my God ! how deeply they will be grieved !" At last, one day, a vessel entered the port for water ; and not only was it bound for New-Orleans, but the cap- tain's wife was also on board, and Henrietta would therefore have a traveling companion. The captain ob- jected, at first, to taking another passenger ; but on hear- ing from Mr. Thompson the young girl's history, his sympathies were so deeply aroused that he at once pro- mised the passage. Three days after, Henrietta bade an affectionate adieu to the Thompson family, who had followed to the wharf to see her on board the " Vigilant." Very soon the shores of Africa, which had been so near proving fatal to her hopes and life, disappeared from view forever, and with a glad heart the young girl gave herself up to dreams of happiness that awaited her in Louisiana. CHAPTER XIV. THE ARRIVAL WILLIAM LEBRUN. THE voyage proved a happy one, and the " Vigilant" entered the Mississippi River early in December. Im- mediately on his arrival at New-Orleans, the captain ad- dressed a note to the French Consul, requesting him to make inquiry for Mr. Lebrun, and inform him that his niece was on board. , The response was prompt ; in the afternoon of the same day, William Lebrun ascended the vessel, and wept with joy as he folded his niece to his heart. Henrietta then related her adventures, her uncle lis- tening, and occasionally interrupting her with tears and sighs. "I believed you were lost, my dear child," he ex- claimed, when she had finished her story. " On arriving here, the captain of the ' Swallow ' informed me of all that had occurred. I was almost distracted with grief, and determined to enter a complaint against the impru- dent captain ; but after an interview with Madame Del- mont and beholding the sorrow in which I found her plunged, besides hearing the explanation she gave, I was deterred from all such proceedings. THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 65 " But a cruel necessity still hung over me ; the terrible misfortune that had befallen them must be announced to your parents. For a long time I hesitated ; at length I underook to prepare them for the sad tidings, by writing that you had arrived, but was very ill. A month later, and I informed them that you were no better, and this morning I had determined to disclose to them the whole truth. God be praised, that cruel duty will be spared me, and I shall immediately write and relieve their minds of all anxiety." The same evening a letter was dispatched to the dis- tressed parents of Henrietta. William Lebrun rewarded the captain and his wife munificently for the care and kindness they had bestow- ed on his niece ; he then hastened to conduct her to his residence in New-Orleans. It was an antique but most picturesque structure, surmounted by a terrace, with a double piazza., supported by small columns, extending entirely around it. At the foot of these columns im- mense boxes of laurel-roses, Virginia jasmines, and oranges, perfumed the air, while the clematis and other climbing-plants clambered over the walls, and hung in festoons from the roof. At the rear of the mansion was an immense garden, while in front a beautiful lawn in- closed by an elegant iron railing extended down to the street. Henrietta was enraptured with the appearance of all around her. Never had she dreamed of any thing more beautiful. On entering the house, the servants, a dozen slaves, men and women, assembled to pay their respects to her. At sight of these negroes, she experienced a 66 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. feeling of repulsion very natural after all she had suf- fered in Africa. But reason quickly resumed her em- pire, and she received the slaves' salutations quite gra- ciously, speaking to them with so much affability and gen- tleness as at once to prepossess them in her favor, and assure them they had found in their new mistress a friend and protector. Had they need of protection with such a master as Mr. Lebrun, a man who in every respect appeared so unexceptionably kind and good ? This we shall discover hereafter. An entire week was spent in such preparations as Henrietta's arrival made necessary. Delighted at having her with him, her uncle, among a score of other things he had devised for his niece, insisted that she should at once select and purchase a number of the most elegant and expensive toilets, that she might not find herself at all inferior in dress to other young girls with whom she would be associated. " I am rich, my dear child," he insisted, " and I desire you to take the same position my daughter would occupy if I had one." Therefore, in despite of all Henrietta could say in favor of the trousseau "bought in Havre, the costliest silk dresses, Parisian hats, rare and costly jewels, in a word, every thing was added to her wardrobe necessary for sustaining the rank she was henceforth to assume in society. One circumstance contributed greatly to increase Mr. Lebrun's affection for his niece. He expected to find her entirely ignorant and uninstructed, or, at least, with a very limited education,' and destitute of all refinement. As THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 67 his position brought him in contact with the oldest and best families in the South, he intended she should be educated before being introduced into society. But having had Leonie for her friend and companion, and enjoying constant intercourse with the family, her man- ners, naturally refined, had become quite easy and polished ; besides this, her quick perception and intelli- gence had enabled her to profit by the course of reading she had followed ; so that altogether, she was capable of doing her uncle great honor. The planter was delighted on making this discovery. Instead of having to engage in the work of education from its foundation, as he had anticipated would be ne- cessary, he had only to insure her a few extra accom- plishments. His gratification was indeed very great. " My dear Henrietta," he exclaimed, " I had not ex- pected to find you so carefully reared and educated. I am truly delighted to have you with me, and believe me, my dear child, you shall never regret leaving France, to come and live with your old uncle." "My old uncle, indeed !" replied the young girl, smil- ing ; " then you grow old at pleasure, do you ? You are not at all the dilapidated person you described yourself to be in your first letter to my father. No, indeed, dear uncle, on the contrary, you are now in the prime of life, and I am quite sure we shall yet pass many long and happy years together." "I dare not indulge in such dreams as that, my child ; I feel very old, and worn out ; but," he added hastily, ''we must not dwell on that subject now." And he at once commenced describing the numerous 68 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. fetes and entertainments he intended giving in honor of the arrival of his niece. The first, he decided, should take place at his country-seat, called " The Acacias." In order, therefore, to begin the necessary preparations, and issue the cards of invitation, he started with Henrietta at once for the plantation. CHAPTER XV. VILLA OF " THE ACACIAS" THE OVERSEER AND HIS WIFE. " THE ACACIAS" was situated on the shores of Lake Pontchartrain, in the midst of a picturesque country, but with nothing grand or imposing in the surrounding scenery. A few slight undulations alone broke the per- fect equality of the level plain ; but groves of trees and numerous beautiful residences served to relieve the mo- notony of the landscape. "The Acacias" was one of the most beautiful of these elegant residences, and the abode of every comfort and luxury. The mansion was surrounded by immense gar- dens, beyond which verdant fields and meadows extend- ed as far as the eye could reach. On one side of the house there was a thick grove, which afforded an agreea- ble shade during the hottest portion of the day. The ground now occupied by the gardens had formerly been covered by a vast morass ; this swamp Mr. Lebrun had thoroughly drained, and the water thus collected formed an artificial lake in the centre ; thus, while re- moving a source of malarious diseases, he had created a most useful and agreeable object, in the form of this well-stocked fish-pond. 7o THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. This mansion, built in a style similar to the one in the city, was approached by a magnificent avenue of acacias, fiom which the villa had taken its "name. Henrietta was transported with wondering admiration at the splendors surrounding her. " If only my beloved parents were near me, how happy I should be in this lovely place !" she exclaimed mentally. The planter and his niece were received at " The Acacias" by Mr. and Mrs. Edwards. Edwards was a man nearly forty years of age. His real character it was difficult to define. His countenance wore an expression of excessive animation, and seemed to beam with since- rity; but a sinister expression lurked in his gray eye, which, with a constant habit of compressing his lips, left the impression that Edwards was an arrant hypocrite, and the mobility of his countenance only assumed in order to render his real character more impenetrable. Tall, muscular, and robust, there was something in the appearance of the man reminding one of a wild animal, restrained in his instincts. He constantly car- ried a walking-cane or riding-whip in his hand ; his dress was always faultless; and altogether, a considerable degree of perspicacity was necessary in order to form a correct opinion of the man. His wife was about thirty years of age, but still re- tained a considerable degree of beauty, something very unusual with the Creoles, who generally fade very soon. Her manners were affable, and her voice sweet. Unfor- tunately, beneath this exterior graciousness, she conceal- ed a wicked and malignant heart. Edwards, therefore, found in her an active and earnest coadjutor, in the ac- THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 71 complishment of all the cruelties he felt disposed to ex- ercise toward the slaves. This man and his wife were acquainted with Mr. Le- brun when he purchased "The Acacias." Of a generous and confiding nature, the planter was easily imposed on by their protestations of devotion, and installed them, as we have stated before, the one as his overseer, the other as lady of the house. Mr. Lebrun's health being quite feeble, in conse- quence of the fatigues and exposure of his early life, he was unable to give personal attention to his affairs, and, regarding Edwards more as a reliable friend than a paid hireling, he invested him with full power to manage every thing about the plantation, in his own way. Edwards and his wife confidently expected to influ- ence the planter to such an extent that his entire fortune would ultimately come into their possession. In the mean time, they took every advantage their position ren- dered available, and neglected nothing that would enable them to appropriate, without exciting suspicion, large sums of money to their own benefit. The furious disap- pointment of these people may be imagined on learning that Mr. Lebrun intended leaving his property to his family, and, in execution of this design, had already sent a large amount of money to his brother, with the request that his daughter would come and make her home with him. The report of the young girl's death, however, had entirely reassured them : they henceforth counted on readily accomplishing their designs through the generous and too confiding nature of their employer. Their con- 72 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. sternation was indeed great when the young girl arrived, and her adoption by her uncle became a fixed fact. "We must be very cautious," suggested Mrs. Ed- wards, who was the first to recover from the stunning effect of their amazement. " Mr. Lebrun must never suspect that the arrival of his niece has in any manner disconcerted our plans. Once this girl is established here, it will be strange, indeed, if I can not succeed in prejudicing her uncle against her. And it will be no- thing more than simple justice to ourselves, either. For eight years we have been working to increase the reve- nues of the plantation, and is it not owing to you entire- ly, that this foolish old man has been able to make a single good investment ? And to think of all the fruit of our labor at last going into the hands of these strangers, who will deliberately kick us out of doors, under the pretext of their being relations of the proprietor. Now, all this must be considered and prevented ; but we shall have to proceed very cautiously." "Yes," replied her husband, with a sinister and ma- lignant smile; "we shall have to be prudent." It was with their hearts filled with such designs and reflections, that the overseer and his wife went out to re- ceive Henrietta. They were prodigal in their exclamations of joy at her unexpected arrival, and overwhelmed her with de- monstrations of welcome; but Henrietta replied in a slightly restrained though amiable manner, as it seemed to her Mrs. Edwards put rather too much warmth in her protestations. The slaves again assembled, as they had done in the THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 73 city, to pay their respects to their new mistress. The retinue of house-servants was not less than thirty. In all slave countries, and especially in Louisiana, domestics are very numerous, and generally those employed as house-servants exclusively are not ill-treated. The work being divided among a great number, is compara- tively light, and fewer occasions offered exposing them to the caprices or ill-temper of their owners. They are also sufficiently well fed, and comfortably clothed : but the miserable field-hands, entirely abandoned to the cruel authority of an inhuman overseer, are driven out, half-naked, and compelled to accomplish the most ardu- ous tasks, in spite of sickness, hunger, or the inclemency of the weather. Even though they should fall, fainting from pain and exhaustion, they are forced to rise, and under the lash to move on and perform their appointed tasks. No words can convey an adequate idea of the wretched condition of the slaves, on the majority of Southern plantations. Edwards and his wife, both Creoles, and imbued as Creoles usually are, with bitter prejudices against the ne- gro, treated them with the most revolting cruelty on all occasions when they were sure their conduct would not be discovered by Mr. Lebrun. If by chance, the com- plaints of one of the miserable creatures reached the ears of the planter, Edwards would adroitly misrepresent the facts, prove those who had preferred the charges to be "impudent liars," and as soon as the attention of Mr. Lebrun was diverted, would secretly revenge himself for the trouble his victim had caused him. Thus the blacks, when summoned to pay their re- 74 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. spects to Henrietta, were in no hurry to make their ap- pearance, expecting to find in this new mistress but another instrument of cruelty and oppression ; but the sweet countenance of the young girl, and the deeply compassionate expression beaming from her eyes, pro- duced the same effect on the slaves at " The Acacias," as had been done on those in New-Orleans ; they fondly believed they had found in their new mistress a protec- tress and friend, and a ray of hope shone suddenly into their hearts, and lightened up their dusky faces with an expression of unusual joy. CHAPTER XVI. ANXIETY OF HENRIETTA'S PARENTS THREE LETTERS AT THE SAME TIME. APPREHENSION and sorrow reigned supreme in White Cottage. The first letter of William Lebrun had been received, announcing the pretended malady of Henrietta, and from that time, nothing had come to console the afflicted parents. " No doubt but she is dead !" exclaim- ed Margaret, weeping. " O my God ! why did we ever let her leave us ?" Anthony was of his wife's opinion ; but, unwilling to add to her afflictions, he avoided expressing his real sentiments. An atmosphere of quiet happiness had heretofore pervaded White Cottage ; the last generous donation of William having been judiciously employed, they were enabled to live in ease and abundance, and were cheerful and contented. Not willing to risk again losing all he possessed, Anthony had commenced by first paying his debts, and that important duty accomplished, he placed the rest of the money in Berlin's bank. The fisherman's health no longer permitting him to 76 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. follow the sea, he passed the greater portion of his time in looking after his little property, which every day in- creased in value. When the desire of going to sea could no longer be resisted, he would obtain a position, and make a voyage on the boat of some one of his old friends, who always gave him a hearty welcome. In this way, the time had passed peacefully and plea- santly by. But now, fearing that Henrietta no longer lived, Anthony and Margaret constantly reproached themselves for the blessings they enjoyed ; the cup of happiness had indeed become embittered, which they imagined had been purchased with the life of their de- voted child. Besides this, they were also very anxious on account of Celestin. A year had passed since the youth left Havre, and yet not a word had been received from him to reassure his parents. Therefore, notwithstanding the amiable efforts of Emily, who endeavored to take the place of her elder sister, and the affectionate caresses of the lovely little Henry, life had become very sad to the distressed parents at White Cottage. It was toward the close of the month of January, when at last the long-desired letters arrived ; and there were three at the same time. The first that met his eager glance was from William Lebrun : he opened it hurriedly, to find his worst fears confirmed ! This, it will be remembered, was the second letter writ- ten by the planter, announcing the continued and dan- gerous illness of Henrietta. It chanced to arrive at the same time with the one the young girl and her uncle had written from New-Orleans. Anthony, in his perplexity to decide how to break THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 77 the news of the great calamity that threatened them to his wife, held the three letters mechanically in his trem- bling hand. One of them fell to the ground without his observing it, and was picked up by Margaret, who had hurried in to inquire if any tidings had at last been re- ceived from their child. As she took up the letter, a cry of joy escaped her lips ; she recognized in the super- scription the handwriting of Henrietta. "God be praised!" she cried, "my daughter still lives!" And overcome with emotion, she fell into a chair, almost deprived of consciousness. Hearing her explanation, Anthony was bewildered with astonishment. "What does this mean?" he cried, "is it not true then ?" And seizing the letter Margaret had picked up, he opened it, and hurriedly turned to the signature and date. The latter, he discovered, was more recent than that of the letter he had just read from William Lebrun. At the same moment, the happy father observed that the third letter still remaining in his hand was from Celestin. Therefore, both the dear children for whom he had so much feared, still lived. Anthony and Margaret shed tears of joy, as with overflowing hearts they clasped Emily and Henry in their arms; in them, it seemed, they embraced the absent. When the first emotion had subsided, Anthony pro- ceeded to read the letters. He commenced with the one from Henrietta, as on her account they had suffered the greatest anxiety. After a thousand affectionate messa- ges addressed to her parents, brothers, and sister, she re- 78 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. lated the various incidents attending her voyage, her safe arrival, at length, in New-Orleans, and concluded thus : " My uncle, it seems to me, is the personification of all that is good, and I am sure I shall be very happy with him. But oh ! how much I miss you ! All of you, my dearest father, my beloved mother, Emily, and my pre- cious little godson, and dear Celestin ! No words can express my intense longing to see you. But let us hope the time will soon arrive when we shall again be united, and have dear uncle also .with us. Then we shall in- deed be too happy !" The feelings of Anthony and Margaret may be imag- ined on reading this letter. Their beloved Henrietta was alive and well, and looking forward to a bright and happy future in her new home. What joy this assur- ance brought to their hearts ! Anthony then read Celestin 's letter. The youth had written but a few lines, having to take advantage of a vessel they had encountered returning to France. But Celestin wrote that he was well; that he gave perfect satisfaction to his employers, and hoped very soon to be promoted ; this was the most important news it con- tained. The day sped rapidly away, passed in cheerful con- versation, and a thousand comments on the good news they had received were indulged in ; nor did they forget to communicate the joyful tidings immediately to Ma- dame Hermier and her daughter. They well merited this attention ; for both had more than amply fulfilled the promise made Henrietta on her departure. Anthony and Margaret had been constantly sustained and com- THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 79 forted in their afflictions by the kind attention and con- soling words of Madame Hermier and Leonie. It was with glad hearts, at the hour when they were sure of finding the ladies at home, that all the fisher- man's family went over to the Elms. Leonie and her mother were truly delighted to hear the consoling news brought them. Absence had not di- minished the affectionate regard with which Henrietta had inspired them, and Celestin had attracted their favorable notice by going, so young, to labor for the purpose of assisting his parents. " You see now," said Madame Hermier, " that I was right in telling you to hope on and not to despair, even though matters might look gloomy. I felt perfectly sure the good Lord had eventually in store for you joy and consolation. See how visibly He has protected Hen- rietta ! I shudder at the thought of the fearful dangers she has passed through ; but they are all over now, and henceforth anxieties and apprehensions are at an end ! One of these days your daughter will return to you rich and happy, and secure the fortune of the whole family." CHAPTER XVII. ELLEN MCDOUGALL AN UNEXPECTED MEETING. As time passed on, Mr. Lebrun congratulated him- self every day, more and more, on having his niece with him-. He now had a gentle, good, and most amiable companion, always ready to do every thing for his com- fort and pleasure. Henrietta exerted every faculty to the utmost to pro- fit by the lessons her uncle had engaged she should take in different branches. She was thus enabled to complete her education, and also acquire a number of agreeable accomplishments, which became, for herself and her un- cle, a constant source of pleasure. But we must not anticipate. Six months had already passed since the young girl's arrival at New-Orleans. Gentle and compassionate as she naturally was, she had made more than one discovery that pained, and forced her to use all her influence to bring about a number of reforms on the plantation. She was not long in discovering that Mrs. Edwards was very cruel in her treatment of the servants employ- ed about the house, and her husband still more brutal toward those working in the fields. THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 81 She had accidentally been a witness to the barba- rous punishments inflicted on some of the slaves, and that, very often, for the most trivial offenses. As has been already stated, there were at least thirty servants employed about the house. Among them, Mrs. Edwards's maids, Betty and Malcy, who had charge of the linen, were the housekeeper's principal drudges. They were two bright and graceful quadroons, with the most cheerful and obliging dispositions. Both of these girls had been reared in one of the best Southern fami- lies, and had acquired by their training a refinement of manner and a style of expression and conversation very far superior to others of their color and condition. From the first, Henrietta had taken them especially into favor, and it often happened that, under pretext of giving them an order or something to do, she had retained them to talk with her. Mrs. Edwards, for a long time exceedingly provoked at the generous condescension of the young girl, had re- solved to bring the subject to the attention of her uncle in a way to excite his disapprobation ; but she conclud- ed to wait until the planter would no longer be under the influence of the joy with which the arrival of his niece had inspired him. But that moment seemed long in approaching. Mr. Lebrun every day appeared to take more pleasure in, and become more devoted to, the society of his niece. He seemed never to tire of walking with her, showing her the beauties of the country, and still more, of giving the most splendid entertainments, on which occasions he enjoyed the admiration excited by his niece, whom all 82 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. united in pronouncing a most charming and beautiful Never forgetting her humble origin, and having too much good sense to feel elated by the fortune she would inherit from her uncle, she conducted herself with such perfect modesty and graceful affability, so far removed from the proud haughtiness generally affected by the Creoles, and a vivacity and sprightliness in such contrast with their languid indolence of manner, that soon, rap- turous praises of the " charming young French girl " were in the mouths of every one. Henrietta, while she received in the most gracious manner the advances made by the young ladies to whom she had been introduced, became intimate with but one ; and in this one she believed she discovered all the ele- ments essential in a true and sincere friend. Ellen McDougall for such was the name of Henriet- ta's new friend had just completed her fifteenth year; the two girls were consequently near the same age. The daughter of Irish parents, who had left their country to escape religious persecution, Ellen's habits and aspirations were similar to those of Henrietta ; and sensible as she was of the value of time, she endeavored to spend it usefully and improve every moment as far as was in her power. The intimacy of these two young girls being approv- ed by their friends, soon became firmly cemented; and the residence of Ellen's parents being near The Acacias, they saw each other very often. One day, Henrietta had gone to visit her friend, and on entering the parlor, before having time to recognize THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 83 who it was, she found herself clasped in the arms of a lady, who embraced her with the most rapturous and joyful exclamations. Partially recovered from her astonishment, the young girl in her turn exclaimed aloud, on recognizing Ma- dame Delmont. " If you were my own child," said the delighted wo- man, " I could not be more sincerely happy at seeing you again !" And she wept with joy ; and laughing and crying together, asked a thousand questions, and begged to be informed "by what miracle the dear child had escaped death." Henrietta willingly consented to gratify her, and gave a detailed account of her adventures. "Ah!" exclaimed Madame Delmont, when the young girl had finished her narrative, " God only knows what I have suffered, and how unceasingly and bitterly I have reproached myself for having lost sight of you for an in- stant ! But you are alive and here, and all is well. And now promise me you will bear no malice against me, but come often to my house. I reside at the Cottage, a plantation scarcely fifteen miles from this of Mr. Le- brun's. I shall be charmed to see you, and my children will be more than delighted to embrace you ; they loved you so dearly !" Henrietta promised all that Madame Delmont re- quested. " It was only this moment," continued the latter, " that Mrs. McDougall informed me of your arrival. I could not believe my own senses, and feared there might be some mistake in name or person. Yes, my dear Henri- 84 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. etta, I assure you again that, were you my own daughter, I could not be more delighted at this meeting." The day was a charming one for Henrietta; Ellen and her parents, together with Madame Delmont, sur- rounding her with so many kind attentions that she found herself wondering what she had done to merit so many proofs of affection. Her modesty and humility prevent- ed her from recognizing that to her own virtuous quali- ties and amiable dispositions she was alone indebted for the popularity she enjoyed. CHAPTER XVIII. HENRIETTA'S LIFE AT "THE ACACIAS." THE letters written by the absent daughter contain- ed all such details as she thought would be interesting to her parents, and often those letters grew to an enor- mous length. Among others, one written about six months after her arrival at New-Orleans, seems to us too interesting to be withheld from our readers ; we there- fore give it. The letter ran as follows : "VILLA OF THE ACACIAS, May, 184 " MY DEAR FATHER AND MOTHER : The mail-boat will not leave for ten days yet, but I will take advantage of the time before me, and commence my letter. This is the way I . have been in the habit of doing ; other- wise, I should always have to write so hurriedly, it would not give me time to say to my dear parents one half as much as I would wish. " Heretofore, I have not spoken to you of myself par- ticularly ; but I shall now endeavor to repair the neglect with which you reproach me on that account. " Could you but look from White Cottage and behold your Henrietta, you would scarcely be able to recognize her. It is my uncle's desire that I should always be 86 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. dressed in the height of the fashion, consequently my wardrobe is munificently replenished. I have the most elegant silks, the costliest cashmeres, exquisite India muslins, as light as a cloud, and all kinds of expensive and beautiful jewelry. But this does not render me happy, so long as I must be separated from my beloved parents and my dear sister and brothers. However, I now have reason to believe our reunion will take place much sooner than I had dared to hope before. " My good uncle has been quite indisposed recently, but is at present much better. I am now entirely con- vinced that he said but the truth, in writing you lie had ' grown old in advance of his years.' Poor dear uncle ! his constitution is so completely broken down by expos- ure and hardships endured in early life that the intense heat of this debilitating climate wears dreadfully upon him. His physician constantly insists that a change is necessary ; but he is so much attached to this country, he imagines that to leave it and be compelled to change all his habits of life would be unendurable. " Therefore, I scarcely dare yet to speak of our re- turn to France, fearing uncle might think we desired to get possession of his property. O my dear parents ! if he could only imagine how delighted we would all be to have him in our midst, even though he had nothing to leave us ! I know your feelings perfectly well on this subject, and my great desire is to furnish my uncle with a delicate proof of those sentiments. The greatest obsta- cle will be the breaking up of old habits and customs, now become second nature, and which have, until this time, alone prevented him from returning to France. THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 87 " I believe I have never yet given you a description or ' pen-portrait ' of Uncle William. Well, he is tall, and rather spare ; but his appearance, nevertheless, is quite robust. His hair is gray, with barely a few dark locks clustering about the temples. His eyes are brown, and beam with an expression of benevolence and genuine goodness. His forehead is broad and high ; his man- ner slightly formal, but, notwithstanding this stateliness, quite gracious. Every thing about him, in fact, is cal- culated to inspire confidence, affection, and respect. " I can not begin to tell you all the kind and generous attentions he lavishes on me. My least desires are grati- fied, my slightest wish is law. I have entirely at my ser- vice two mulatto slaves ; another one, my maid, a quad- roon ; and a little groom, as black as ebony, whose duty is to attend me when I ride in the carriage or on horse- back ; for I must inform you, my dear parents, that horseback riding has also been added to the number of my accomplishments. It was uncle's desire that I should become an expert horsewoman, in order that I might accompany him in his morning rides over the plantation. Besides this, I have been taking music les- sons; and commence already to play passably well on the piano ; I practice also on the harp, and am receiving instruction in drawing and painting. " I would be glad to make myself useful in the family, by taking charge of the household affairs ; but to this uncle is decidedly opposed. In this country, the chil- dren of the rich have nothing to do, except dress, visit, and amuse themselves ; all work is left to the slaves. I assure you the young girls of my acquaintance here 88 THE FISHERMAN S DAUGHTER. are constantly astonished at seeing me always occupied. But I endeavor to retain the industrious habits taught me by my dear mother, and try, as far as is in my power, never to waste a moment of time. " I have already spoken to you, I believe, of my espe- cial favorite, Ellen McDougall. I have not been disap- pointed in the character of this young girl, and think myself fortunate in possessing such a friend. " Besides the pain of being so far from you, my beloved parents, there is but one other impediment to the perfect happiness I should otherwise enjoy here, and that is, I am compelled so often to witness scenes which to me are most revolting. You can form no idea of the cruelty and injustice with which the slaves are treated; and what I can least comprehend is, that even young girls, the most refined and delicate seemingly, often display the greatest cruelty toward these unhappy creatures. " Mrs. Edwards, the overseer's wife, is a heartless wo- man, and her conduct with regard to the negroes is real- ly barbarous. It is on this account that I have lost all confidence in and respect for her. I may be mistaken, but I believe her to be a very great hypocrite. She ne- ver lets my uncle see her whip or otherwise mistreat the slaves ; she would not dare do it. But, unfortunately, he can not be always present, and she takes advantage, on every occasion, of his absence to have the most se- vere and unmerited punishments inflicted upon her mis- erable victims. " A number of times already I have tried to make this woman and her husband understand how shocking their conduct appeared to me, and that I should be compelled THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 89 to inform my uncle. The malice and vindictiveness, since displayed in their expression and manner, has al- most made me tremble for my own safety. I know not why it is, but I should like to be away from these two persons. " One morning, quite recently, just as I was leaving my chamber, I heard a piercing shriek proceeding from the end of the piazza which extends across the front of the house. The cry so alarmed me that without reflec- tion I immediately rushed on in the direction from whence it seemed to proceed ; and there I found a little negro boy, about six years old, on his knees before Mrs. Edwards. On seeing me, her face turned crimson, and, trembling with rage, she hurriedly ordered the child to get up. The poor little creature obeyed, and as he stag- gered to his feet, I saw with horror a deep gash cut on his forehead, from which a stream of blood poured over his face. " ' What does this mean ? ' I cried. ' What is the mat- ter with this child ? ' " ' Nothing at all,' replied Mrs. Edwards, in a curt, an- gry voice. ' Wilkie, in carrying the flowers to your chamber, Miss Henrietta, has let the vase fall and bro- ken it. a magnificent porcelain vase. I have just been scolding the awkward little blockhead; he never will be careful, or do any thing as he ought.' " ' But that cut on his forehead ? ' I insisted, ' how did that happen ? ' " ' In falling, he struck his head on a piece of the bro- ken vase.' " At this reply, the expression of the child's eyes so 9O THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. plainly told that Mrs. Edwards had uttered a falsehood that I could not refrain from saying, " ' No, Mrs. Edwards, that is not so ; you have struck this child.' " She would have protested, but at the same instant I perceived hidden among the folds of her dress a small cowhide covered with blood. The horror and indigna- tion with which I was seized on making this discovery, prevented me from giving full vent to my feelings ; but with an imperative gesture, I ordered this wicked woman to leave the piazza at once. "Left alone with the child, I hastened to lead him to my chamber. There I dressed his wound, and, in order to more entirely console and divert him, I bound around his head a yellow and red plaid silk handkerchief. This su- perb turban, with a paper of candy, rendered him perfectly happy, and oblivious to the pain of his wound. " ' O Miss Henrietta ! ' he cried, ' you are so good ! Daddy Sam and Mammy Cassy will be too glad, when they see me looking so fine.' " Sam and Cassy are his parents, and are both employ- ed as field-hands. " Before dismissing the poor little negro, I advised him in future to pay strict attention to all he was told, and do his work so well that he might no more deserve to be scolded or punished. " ' O miss ! it was that bad Miss Edwards who made me break the beautiful vase,' he said excitedly. 'Be- cause I was walking along very slow and careful ; then she called me a lazy dog, and give me a hard push ; then THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 91 I stumbled, ma'am, and let the vase fall, and then Miss Edwards, she beat me ! ' " Not wishing to blame the housekeeper too openly, I ended the conversation by making no farther reply. " At the breakfast-table, that morning, I informed my uncle of what had occurred ; but it was very evident he could not credit the story entirely, and thought I had mistaken some of the facts, or misjudged the house- keeper. " ' Mrs. Edwards maybe a little too hasty and strict,' he replied, ' but she is good at heart. Besides, my dear Henrietta, you can not imagine to what an extent these negroes will lie, nor with how many grains of allowance their statements must generally be received. Let us ex- ercise charity toward all. I find nothing- in this matter with which to blame Mrs. Edwards : let her control the negroes ; it is necessary, believe me.' " Since that time, I have watched the overseer and his wife as closely as possible, but have, of course, reported nothing more to my uncle. " I endeavor to make the lives of the slaves who are under my immediate direction as endurable as possible, and they, being so contented and happy, are envied by all the others, and every day I am urged to take more of them into my own personal service. Would that it were in my power to give all these poor creatures their liberty ! They seem perfectly devoted to me, and I do not believe, if I had need of their assistance, that they would fail me in any emergency. They wait on me with the most scrupulous attention, and I never have to reprove or re- mind them of a neglected duty. When I go out walk- 92 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. ing, one or two of the slaves always accompany me, and no ' guard of honor ' could be more polite and solicitous. I believe they would be delighted if they could relieve me from even the exertion of walking. And what have I done to merit all this devotion ? Nothing, really no- thing. A kind word when they render me a service, and occasionally, some little present ; I never administer corporal punishment for a fault ; a reprimand adapted to the intelligence of these poor creatures is entirely sufficient. Some time ago, I got up a project for their improvement, which I thought would be both useful and pleasant for them all. I obtained uncle's consent for the slaves to assemble every Sunday morning in one of the large rooms used for storing cotton. A priest from a neighboring parish willingly consented to come and give them a short instruction, and when that is finished, I ac- company a small melodeon with some of our beautiful hymns, in singing which the blacks join with the great- est imaginable enthusiasm and fervor. " It has now been two months since these instructions were commenced. At first, the project only excited ridi- cule; but uncle himself is obliged to see and acknowledge that, after a Sunday spent in this manner, the slaves are more 'docile, and better disposed to work faithfully. Therefore, I think he is now perfectly satisfied for me to continue my undertaking. " You see, my dear parents, that I constantly endea- vor to act on the advice I have received from you, and therefore lose no opportunity for doing an act of charity. " I had almost forgotten to relate you a little adven- ture that happened to me yesterday. THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 93 " I was crossing a small cane-field to reach the grove near the house. Walking along, in an abstracted man- ner, my mind absorbed with thoughts of France and those so dearly loved in my own native home, I was sud- denly startled by a piercing cry, uttered quite near me, and at the same instant I felt myself seized by the arms from behind, and suddenly jerked backward. " In astonishment and alarm, I turned my head, and beheld Sam, silently pointing with his finger to an enor- mous serpent lying coiled in the path before me. It was now my turn to cry out ; but before I had time to recover from the fright, the negro had already dispatched the reptile with a blow from the spade he carried in his hand. " Truly grateful for his timely intervention, I tried to make * Daddy Sam ' accept a small reward ; but all in vain, no persuasion could induce him to receive it. " * No, young mistress,' he replied, ' you defended my poor little boy, and took him out of the hands of that wicked Mrs. Edwards. Hereafter, Sam belongs to you, madame ; he will watch over you like a faithful dog, be- lieve me, he will do it, young mistress.' "Now, is it not singular to find such gratitude in a man, belonging to a race despised and condemned by the entire American nation to the horrible condition of slavery ? What stronger argument could be brought against the injustice of this cruel institution ? " A people susceptible of so many good impressions, and especially of a sentiment so elevated as that of gra- titude, can not deserve to be held in this abject and de- graded condition. " But to return to my adventure with the serpent : 94 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. you must not suppose we are constantly surrounded by such dangers here. Oh ! no, very far from it ; but were the country even as badly infested as Africa, I should not be afraid. I feel assured that God watches over me in an especial manner ; have I not already received the most convincing proofs of it ? "But now, my dearest father and mother, I must leave you. Uncle is going to make a short visit into the interior of the country, and wishes me to accompany him. So I must go and make preparations for the jour- ney. " Once more I embrace you with all my heart ! You know how dearly I love you ; then think of me always with the same affection, and believe me, " Your devoted daughter, " HENRIETTA." CHAPTER XIX. THE JOURNEY. LEAVING Anthony and his family in the enjoyment of the happiness caused by the reception of Henrietta's let- ter, we will follow the young girl toward whom the most grave and serious events were now rapidly approaching. Proud, as we have said, of the intelligence and refine- ment of his niece, William Lebrun was nevei willing to be separated from her, and took the greatest delight in presenting her to his friends. The journey he was about to take was, in fact, principally for her benefit, and to secure him an opportunity of displaying the charms and superior accomplishments of Henrietta. For a long time, the planter had been promising visits to numerous friends, who often came to see him at The Acacias, and had heretofore insisted, in vain, on their visits being returned. Wishing to procure his niece as many diversions as possible, as well as to enjoy the plea- sure of introducing her to his friends, he resolved to ac- cept all the invitations he had received. Mr. Lebrun determined to travel in a style suited to his wealth and position. Henrietta was supplied with an extravagant outfit, and he took with him a numerous re- tinue of servants. He intended, he said, that his niece g6 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. should be the acknowledged peer of the wealthiest young girls in Louisiana. The most agreeable and convenient manner of tra- veling in the United States is undoubtedly by steam- boat on the lakes and rivers. These boats ply regularly between the large cities and towns, and are arranged and furnished in the most elegant and convenient manner. The utmost liberty and ease are permitted among the passengers, 'and one may here enjoy all the advantages of wealth without any of its inconveniences, as in public vehicles ; but above every thing else, the greatest attrac- tion offered by this mode of traveling is the admirable country through which you pass. Nothing can convey an idea of the grandeur and beauty of the scenery that every moment spreads out before you on the banks of these immense American rivers. Since Chateaubriand, in his own incomparable style, described the banks of the Mississippi, many changes have taken place ; but the spectacle is no less grand than it was in the past ; the works of man have not destroyed the boundless prospects which from all points are conti- nually extended before you ; on every side an exube- rance of vegetation, almost without a parallel in the world, makes in many places the most veritable enchant- ed gardens. The meanderings of the river and the isl- ands with which it is ornamented offer scenes of ravishing beauty to the lovers of nature. To these picturesque elements, the industry of man has added its wonders ; numerous large and flourishing cities have been built on the banks of the river, inhabited by the most energetic and thriving populations. The stoppages, constantly THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 97 made by the boats, afford travelers a view of the life and animation existing in these growing cities, and varies the panorama wKich unceasingly passes before their enrap- tured vision. Accustomed as she had been from infancy to behold- ing the sublime views of ocean, Henrietta would natural- ly have been more difficult to impress than others ; but the novelty of all that she saw exceeded her most bril- liant imaginings and filled up the measure of her en- thusiastic delight. As for William Lebrun, he was perfectly happy ; flattered by the favorable impression evidently created by his niece, he had nothing more to desire. " I am never so happy as when I see they admire you," he said to Henrietta ; " you are so attractive, and at the same time so modest and gentle, that every body loves you, my child." " Ah my dear uncle !" responded the young girl, " I desire the affection of none but yourself. I assure you I should enjoy far more spending my days at The Acacias with you alone, than in the midst of all the gayety and festivities with which you surround me." " You should not condemn yourself to solitude and seclusion, when your fortune and position make it impe- ratively your duty to mingle in society," said Mr. Lebrun. " Since you are to become a wealthy heiress, I hope, be- fore I die, to see you make one of the most eligible alli- ances in the country." Henrietta sighed deeply at these words. "Ah !" she exclaimed mentally, " the only desire of my heart is to return and live quietly with my family. Then my poor 98 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. father and brother would no more be compelled to go to sea ; and we should be but too happy ! And if my dear uncle would decide to come and live with us, that happi- ness would be still greater !" Mr. Lebrun often suspected that such reflections oc- cupied the mind of his niece ; but he affected not to be aware of it, and never referred to the subject. This was not owing to any feeling of indifference toward his fami- ly ; for he would have been rejoiced to see them again : but he was now entirely accustomed to the life of a planter, and above all, had become the adopted father of so devoted and lovely a child that he had nothing more to desire. The journey he had undertaken, seeming to benefit his health, was greatly prolonged, and a number of dis- tant cities visited. During their sojourn at Louisville, a pathetic incident occurred. Whilst walking one day with his niece through one of the principal streets, Mr. Lebrun found himself, before he was aware of it, in the midst of the slave-market. About thirty miserable negroes, men, women, and chil- ren, who, at the death of their master, had become the property of some rapacious relatives, were on the block to be sold. The tears and lamentations of these poor creatures so greatly affected Henrietta that, without reflecting on the impracticability of the request, she began to supplicate her uncle to buy the slaves, and give them their liberty on the spot. " Are you dreaming, my child ?" replied Mr. Lebrun ; " why, that would be an unheard-of thing ! Besides, my THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 99 fortune is not sufficient to permit such deeds of genero- sity." " Then, my dear uncle, come, let us go ! Oh ! take me away from the sight of these horrors, I beg you !" replied the young girl, bursting into tears. " I can not behold such a spectacle with indifference; my inmost soul is moved with compassion, whilst every principle of my nature revolts against this system of slavery." And indeed, so deeply moved and excited was Hen- rietta, that she had scarcely reached the hotel, before she was seized with a nervous attack that greatly alarmed Mr. Lebrun. After a long and quiet sleep, however, she appeared quite well again, but implored her uncle to re- turn at once to The Acacias, which they did the following day. " There, at least," thought the young girl, " I shall be able to effect some little good, because, as far as lies in my power, I shall endeavor to ameliorate the condi- tion of the poor slaves belonging to my uncle." On reaching home, Henrietta was struck by the ap- pearance of the two quadroons, Malcy and Betty, who had become her especial favorites. It will be remem- bered that the latter was Mrs. Edwards 's maid, and the former had charge of the linen-closets ; but to her as- tonishment, Henrietta found these two young girls were now compelled to do the meanest drudgery of the house- hold. " What does this mean ?" she demanded of Mrs. Ed- wards. " Those two mulattoes have become so insolent," re- TOO THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. sponded the latter, " that I have concluded to try and break them, by bringing down their pride." " But," replied Henrietta, " could you not succeed in making them docile and obliging without employing them at work to which they have never been accustomed ?" " Permit me to remind you, Miss Lebrun," replied Mrs. Edwards, " that as far as the slaves are concerned, my experience certainly renders me a more capable judge of what is proper for them than yourself. For- merly, when Mr. Lebrun left the entire control of them in my hands, all was well. But since you have come, miss, and, consulting only your extreme sensibilities and peculiar views, have endeavored to treat these creatures as if they had intellect and souls, the effect has been very bad, I assure you. My husband declares the negroes have become so indolent and ungovernable he can do nothing scarcely with them; and the situation grows constantly more serious, as will be shown by the decreas- ing profits of the crops. Now, my husband intends to explain this state of affairs to Mr. Lebrun ; and then, miss, you and I will each understand our proper posi- tions." And leaving Henrietta confounded by her impudence and hypocrisy, Mrs. Edwards swept from the chamber with a smile of malicious triumph on her lips. She understood but too well the weakness of Mr. Lebrun. Alarmed by the overseer's representations of the demo- ralized and ungovernable condition of the slaves, the planter ordered his niece in future to have no commu- nication with them. In vain Henrietta urged him to in- vestigate the facts which had so greatly alarmed him ; THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. IOI the planter insisted that Edwards had too much experi- ence to be deceived, was entirely reliable, and again re- newed the order that nothing should be done for the slaves without the sanction of the overseer. Henrietta, in despair, went immediately to pour her grief into the bosom of her devoted friend Ellen Mc- Dougall. "I am afraid," replied the latter, "that your slaves are indeed cruelly treated. I have heard many reports of very sad things occurring, through the bad conduct of your overseer. But let him look to it ! these unhappy creatures may some day seek to revenge themselves, and such a retribution would be fearful ; I shudder to think of it!" CHAPTER XX. PROMOTION OF CELESTIN LEONIE'S ILLNESS. AFTER Henrietta's letter, another great joy came to console Anthony and Margaret for the absence of their children. Celestin had constantly distinguished himself by his good conduct, his intelligence, and his ambition to improve. Cheerful, polite, and industrious, he gained the esteem and good-will of all with whom he was associated. He was an especial favorite of the captain, who promot- ed him to the position of first pilot, and promised to take him under his immediate protection. He commenced by loaning him books to study, and Celestin exhibited great aptness and intelligence ; the captain assured him, as soon as he was of age he should be sent on a long voyage. Besides this, another consolation in store for Margaret was, that in six months at farthest her son would be again at home. These tidings carried happiness and rejoicing to White Cottage. "Dear child!" exclaimed Margaret, while tears of gratitude coursed down her cheeks; " Celestin's only desire was to serve his parents, and God has rewarded his devotion." THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 103 In the midst of this tranquil happiness, Anthony and Margaret were aroused to a new sorrow, by the illness of Leonie Hermier. Always delicate, the young girl had been suddenly attacked with inflammation of the lungs, or pneumonia, as the disease is called, which the physi- cians considered so serious in its consequences that they advised her mother to try the air of Italy for at least two years. This decision greatly distressed the Lebrun fa- mily. Leonie was so lovely, so kind and good ; she had scrupulously kept the promise made to Henrietta on her departure, and her visits had always carried light and consolation to White Cottage. Henry was her favorite of all the family. At six years, he was much farther ad- vanced than children usually are at that age ; and so in- teresting and bright that Madame Hermier and Leonie often made him visit The Elms, and the little boy insen- sibly imbibed the manners, and a style of language and ideas, far above his station in life. But Anthony, consi- dering that sooner or later the condition of his children would be entirely reversed or very much changed, was not displeased at this transformation in the character of his son. "They are called," he said, "to follow a different career from that to which I had destined them ; I should then feel grateful to God for sending them such bene- factors." Therefore, following the advice of Madame Hermier, he placed Emily at boarding-school. A modest and un- pretending boarding-school, it is true ; for the excellent Sisters who kept it were richer in piety and learning than in worldly possessions. Nevertheless, although the 104 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. terms were very moderate, they lavished on the pupils the fondest and most maternal care, and carried them through a course of instruction best calculated to insure a complete and thorough education. It will be readily understood how the solicitude mani- fested by Madame Hermier and her daughter in all that concerned the interests of Anthony's family awakened in the soul of the latter, and his wife, the most devoted at- tachment. It was therefore with sincere regret that they heard of Leonie's approaching departure and long absence ; it seemed to them like being separated anew from one of their own children. The parting was most touching. Conformity of sen- timent had presided at the union of these two families in a friendship founded on mutual esteem and reciprocal affection. After the departure of Madame Hermier, sad- ness and desolation again presided over the inmates of White Cottage. " If dear Miss Leonie would only come back very soon!" exclaimed little Henry, sorrowfully sighing. " Oh ! I should be so glad ! She was always so kind, and knew so well how to amuse and instruct me." " If she can only recover her health," replied Emily, " I shall continue to pray for her with all my heart." " Yes," in their turn answered Anthony and Marga- ret ; " let us all pray unceasingly for this amiable and lovely child. She is the only hope of her mother : may God in His mercy preserve her!" Every day, from White Cottage, some such affection- ate souvenir was wafted on the wings of hope and pray- er toward the beloved invalid. THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 105 In several letters, Madame Hermier expressed great fear lest the voyage, instead of causing Leonie to im- prove, had aggravated her malady. But at last, the pure air of Sicily, and doubtless, far more than all else, the fer- vent prayers of her mother and friends, caused a favora- ble reaction. This letter was transmitted to Henrietta by her father. He feared, with reason, too, that the sympathies of his daughter would be too deeply moved, on hearing of the dangerous condition of her friend. The intelli- gence, in fact, had greatly excited and grieved her, while the affectionate tenderness expressed for her by her de- voted parents revived more strongly than ever a feeling of intense homesickness and the earnest longing to see those beloved parents again. CHAPTER XXI. THE BALL WILKIE'S ILLNESS HENRIETTA'S DEVOTED NURSING. THE presence of his niece, as we have seen, revived in William Lebrun a taste for luxury and festivities. They had scarcely returned from their journey before he determined to give a grand ball and concert. Invita- tions were consequently sent out to a large number of his friends, among the planters, and the families of those with whom he had business relations. Henrietta's ward- robe was again freshly replenished with elegant and ex- pensive toilets. Endowed with a great deal of natural taste, the young girl, assisted by Ellen McDougall, super- intended all the arrangements and preparations for the festival. Betty and Malcy, the two quadroon victims of Mrs. Edwards's malicious vindictiveness, were appointed by Henrietta as first waiters, and she would insist on having them with her (to the great displeasure of the overseer's wife), to assist at the preparations for the en- tertainment. This being her wish, Mr. Lebrun, under the circumstances, was not the man to oppose his niece, by listening to the insinuations or complaints of Mrs. Edwards. Determined that her uncle should be pleased with THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 107 her industry and good taste, Henrietta spared no exer- tions, and added to the programme a number of happy inventions and beautiful suggestions. A spacious pavilion was erected in the magnificent garden of The Acacias. The sides of this tent were entirely concealed by trailing vines, and small trees and evergreens, so skillfully arranged around the tables as to give them the appearance of being elevated in the midst of flowers and foliage. In another portion of the garden, a second pavilion, not less ingeniously decorat- ed, formed the dancing-hall. The finest musicians had been engaged, and every thing in fact gotten up in a style to do honor to the munificent hospitality of Mr. Lebrun. During the two days the festivities were to continue, the slaves in the fields were made to stop work, and all take part in the necessary service of waiting on the in- vited guests. None were excepted but the aged and in- firm, whose presence would have cast a shadow on the otherwise faultless tableau. The others were all supplied with suitable apparel, and especially bright-colored plaid silk handkerchiefs, to make turbans for their heads, a kind of ornament of which the negroes are excessively proud. Finally, in order that they should appear to the best possible advantage, for some days previous to the fes- tival their daily allowance of food was considerably in- creased, while their " quarters" received a general and thorough cleansing. The collection of cabins built for the slaves on a plantation is called the "quarters." These places are usually horribly filthy, and, under the management of Mr. Edwards, they could not be otherwise at The Acacias. io8 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. Often and again, Henrietta, moved by compassion, had tried to effect a change in this state of things : but obtained nothing, Mr. Lebrun referring every thing of the kind exclusively to his overseer. This weakness of the planter had its source in his bad health and the too confiding generosity of his na- ture. Edwards, adroit and hypocritical, understood how to turn aside every thing that might have enlightened his employer to the true condition of affairs, and to conceal his own enormities beneath an appearance of such ex- treme probity and devotion, that Mr. Lebrun intrusted the management of every thing to him, with the most implicit confidence. The festival day at length arrived. During the en- tire morning, carriages from every direction were throng- ing to The Acacias, the guests wishing to take advantage of the early morning hours for traveling, that being the most delightful portion of the day in those warm cli- mates. Among the number of invitations issued, one for Madame Delmont had, of course, not been forgotten. Henrietta and Ellen McDougall were appointed to act as hostesses on the occasion, and acquitted them- selves wonderfully. Compliments innumerable were lavished upon Henrietta, every one admiring her unaf- fected simplicity, her graceful ease of manner and mo- dest self-possession. The two young girls had agreed to avoid in their toilets the extravagant style of dress worn by the Creoles. Simple white muslin, therefore, with natural flowers, composed their sole ornaments. At first, Mr. Lebrun offered the most serious opposition to this severe simpli- THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 109 city of style ; but as he contemplated his niece, as she stood in the midst of a group of youthful guests, he could but acknowledge the superiority of her refined taste. It was a curious spectacle, that crowd of men and women, arrayed in the costliest apparel, their fair com- plexions, languid movements, and nonchalant air con- trasting with the ebony color, eager vivacity of move- ment, and coarse, gaudy adorning of the blacks employ- ed in waiting. Nothing could have been more original and amusing than the appearance of the little negroes, circulating here, there, and everywhere, each one pre- tending to be fully employed, and enjoying to the fullest extreme the entertainment around him. The busiest of these children was unquestionably Wilkie. His eyes were scarcely ever withdrawn from Henrietta, and the least sign made by his young mistress was instantly understood and executed. The morning passed rapidly away ; and the guests each retired to enjoy a siesta ; the elder to await the dinner-hour, the young girls with the perspective of the ball constantly before them, for which they waited with eager impatience. In traversing one of the verandas, to issue some ne- cessary order, Henrietta's attention was arrested by the sound of a voice, whose harsh severity of tone startled her. She looked around in vain, to try and discover the speaker ; the slaves whom she questioned were either un- able or unwilling to give her any information. She felt, however, that she could not have been deceived ; she had heard the strange voice and caught several words ; among i io THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. others, the word " deatff had been pronounced in a tone so threatening that she shuddered with terror at the sound. She passed tremblingly along the veranda, and descended under the peristyle ; but discovered no one whose voice could have possibly been the one that had alarmed her. She at length concluded that she might have been mistaken ; nevertheless, a profound sadness took possession of her soul ; she felt impressed with the idea that some misfortune threatened her uncle, and, seeking Ellen McDougall, she confided these apprehen- sions to her friend. "Are you entirely sure of all this?" inquired Ellen, whose countenance at once assumed a gloomy and anxious expression. " If so, it would be well to inform your uncle immediately, in order that he may be on his guard ; for unfortunately, the most terrible catastrophes have often occurred on the plantations, induced by the hatred of the negroes for their overseers. Who knows, but the one who uttered these violent threats has per- haps some grudge against Mr. Edwards ?" " But," observed Henrietta, " I know all of our slaves, and I have not recognized the voice " " That is nothing," replied Ellen ; " I remember now hearing it said that, for two or three years, numbers of blacks have fled from your uncle's plantation, and are living in the swamps. Perhaps in the confusion which he supposed would exist during the fete, one of these fu- gitives has returned to consult with his old companions. It will not do, I assure you, to neglect informing your uncle." The conversation was here interrupted by a summons THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. in to dinner. Whatever desire Henrietta might have had to speak immediately to her uncle, she was compelled to defer the conversation until the next day, as the duties of the master of the house left him no opportunity during the evening of absenting himself from his guests. It was scarcely dark, before the sound of the orches- tra was heard, calling them to the ball-room, and very soon several quadrilles were formed, and the dancing commenced. The servants appeared in every direction, carrying waiters filled with ices, fruits, jellies, and cake ; among them, little Wilkie was conspicuous for his earnestness ; an observing glance, however, would have detected in the eyes of the child a certain painful distention, and in his countenance that gray ashen hue, which is the pallor of the negroes. His movements, so quick and animated in the morning, had become languid and heavy. Taking advantage of a moment when Henrietta was resting from the numerous invitations to dance constantly pressed upon her, Wilkie approached, and addressed his young mistress. " Miss Henrietta," he stammered, " I feel very sick, ma'am ; may I go, please " Unable to finish the sen- tence, he stopped, and the waiter he carried fell from his hands. The glasses with which it was filled were brok- en, and the contents of one or two of them emptied on the dress of a young lady sitting beside Henrietta. Fu- rious at his supposed carelessness, she gave Wilkie a blow on the ear ; the child staggered, and sank upon the floor. Another moment, and a loud exclamation was heard, ii2 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. uttered by Edwards, who, running to make the little negro get up, remarked the frightfully pinched and shrunken features. " The yellow-fever /" he cried, " the yellow-fever /" At these words, the utmost consternation seized upon the assembly. The guests rushed terror-stricken out into the gardens. The truth of the overseer's assertion was found to be amply confirmed ; several negroes, and among them some of those belonging to the visitors, fell to the ground, writhing in the grasp of the plague which had stricken them. The alarm of the planters knew no bounds ; an inde- scribable confusion reigned throughout the mansion; every one was anxious to leave at once; but the terror of the slaves being equally great with that of their masters, the preparations for departing advanced but slowly. However, in an hour after the alarm had been given, not a single one of the invited guests remained at The Acacias. Ellen McDougall tried earnestly to carry Henrietta home with her; and Madame Delmont as earnestly im- plored that she should accompany her ; but to all these proposals the young girl had but one reply : that her place was in the midst of the unfortunate creatures who had been stricken by the plague, and neither arguments nor entreaties, nor the positive commands of her uncle, sufficed to make her change her resolution. The entire night was spent in making provision for the sick ; and in these preparations Mr. Lebrun permit- ted nothing to be spared. His kind heart was moved with deepest compassion for the sufferers, and, when THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 113 urged by Edwards to leave the plantation, he assured him that he would remain until the end, and intended that nothing should be neglected to prevent the spread of the epidemic. Those who have not visited America, and especially Louisiana, Mexico, and the Antilles, or have not read the accounts of travelers in those countries, can form no conception of the violence and rapidity with which the yellow-fever, commonly called the black vomit, develops itself. The souvenirs left in France, by the invasion of the cholera in 1832, can alone convey an idea of its hor- rors. Generated by the malarias exhaled from the swamps and marshes which cover those vast extents of country surrounding the mouths of the American rivers, accele- rated by the intense heat, and the humidity that reigns in those regions, the yellow-fever suddenly spreads through the atmosphere, and strikes like a thunderbolt. Its ope- rations are such that it will infect not only entire houses, but will get aboard ships also. In the beginning of the year 1864, an example of the tenacity of the plague oc- curred at St. Nazarus. The " Anna Maria," a vessel coming from America, brought in her hold the germ of yellow-fever, which sud- denly broke out when she proceeded to discharge her cargo. The deck-hands were almost all attacked, and in order to prevent the epidemic spreading through the city, they were compelled to submerge the vessel, and leave her for some time under water. The Antilles, Vera Cruz, and New-Orleans have a sad reputation because of the periodical visitations of the ii4 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. fever. Newly-arrived Europeans are especially liable to become its victims. A great many succumb to the disease, and those who recover are often left with the germs of disease sown in their constitutions, and are com- pelled to return to Europe under penalty of dying a pre- mature death. One fact, which, more than any thing else caused such consternation among the guests of Mr. Lebrun, was, that the usual season for the fever to make its appear- , ance was yet several months off. It was evident that some very powerful local cause had suddenly developed the contagion. If it appeared already in so violent a form, what might not be ultimately anticipated from its ravages ? Henrietta had been terror-stricken ; but although of so gentle a nature, her character was full of energy and heroic courage, which soon elevated her above the effects of fear. She waited on all the sick, and especially little Wilkie. Nothing could intimidate the self-sacrificing girl, when she saw an opportunity of relieving any of the suffering creatures; but it was to the bedside of this child especially that she returned with the greatest inte- rest and anxiety. She had taken an especial fancy to the poor little slave, so bright and intelligent, so earnest and devoted ; and with the most unceasing solicitude, she watched beside him, and exerted every effort possible to arrest the progress and effects of the pestilence. CHAPTER XXII. CONTINUANCE OF THE- YELLOW-FEVER ARCHY, THE RUNAWAY SLAVE. As we have already stated, Mr. Lebrun had ordered every possible attention to be lavished on the sick ne- groes. Mr. and Mrs. Edwards immediately displayed so much unwillingness in having his orders executed that the planter was struck by their conduct, and for the first time since they had been in his employment, he spoke to them with severity. " I intend," he exclaimed, " that what I have com- manded shall be done without delay. Your unwilling- ness doubtless proceeds from a bad feeling toward these poor slaves, and who knows, now, but what you are in some way responsible for the outbreak of this fearful pestilence ? However, I wish you to obey my orders ; otherwise, I will see what can be done." These orders, issued in a tone so different from the usual good-natured suggestions of the planter, recalled the overseer and his wife to their senses, and prevented them from attempting farther to carry out their wicked intentions of cruelty and neglect. But the planter was really not aware of how much ii6 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. justice there was in the accusation he had made against this man and his wife of having caused the outbreak of yellow-fever on the plantation. The physician who was called in declared the slave " quarters" to be the centre from which the infection proceeded. The revolt- ing and filthy condition in which they were kept render- ed this opinion but too plausible. The precipitate cleansing to which the " quarters" had been subjected, on the occasion of the grand entertainment (in order that its usual disgraceful condition might not, by any possibi- lity, be discovered by even a strange servant), had served to sooner develop the plague that was already breeding among those foul habitations of the negroes. When Mr. Lebrun heard the doctor's opinion, he fell into a state of gloomy reflection. Ten years passed among the slaves had not been sufficient to deaden his sensibilities : had he not contracted the careless habits of other planters, and kept an eye on the affairs of the plantation himself, instead of trusting every thing impli- citly to the overseer, the terrible abuses introduced by Edwards would never have existed. His only mistake had been in placing so much authority exclusively in the hands of the overseer; but the sad event which had just occurred gave a decisive blow to the confidence he had so entirely reposed in his wily superintendent. For eight days the yellow-fever raged with unabated violence at The Acacias. Five slaves had already died, five others were dying, and almost every one on the plantation had been attacked by the disease. Henrietta escaped ; God, it seemed, had protected her in an espe- cial manner, that she might have courage and strength to THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 117 sustain those wretched beings whom she nursed with so much devotion. Mr. Lebrun tried at first to restrain the ardor of his niece, in her laborious, self-imposed task of nursing ; but failing in his efforts, he was at last obliged to confine himself simply to watching Henrietta with unceasing vigilance, in order, if the least symptom of the disease should be developed in her system, he might be ready to give her instantly the necessary attention and remedies. One evening, after an unusually fatiguing day, Hen- rietta was returning to the house to seek a few moments' repose, when she remembered that she had omitted to visit one of the farthest cabins belonging to the " quar- ter." This was the domicile of Wilkie's parents, Cassy and Sam, the former having been taken sick that after- noon. Henrietta turned back, and hurried toward the cabin. She found the door closed and bolted ; and through the openings between the logs of which it was built she heard the sound of several voices. Henrietta knocked at the door. A hurried movement was made on the in- terior, and several seconds passed before Sam came to open it. On seeing the young girl, a sigh of relief escaped the negro, who hastened to offer her a stool. "Why did you have your door bolted, Sam?" de- manded Henrietta, casting around her an investigating glance. " It was bolted, miss, without thinking, accidentally done," replied Sam, greatly embarrassed. " But you know," replied Henrietta, who was trou- n8 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. bled by this embarrassment, which she knew concealed something important, " you know that you are forbidden to bolt your doors. If, in place of me, Mrs. Edwards had come this evening to visit you, a very severe punish- ment would have been the consequence of your 'disobe- dience. But never mind now, we will let it pass," she added kindly, " you need not tremble so, nor be uneasy ; I will forget your infraction of the established regula- tions, if you will tell me who was with you just now, when I knocked." " Nobody, miss," Sam answered hurriedly and in a confused and excited manner that clearly condemned him. " No person, Sam ? Why, I distinctly heard another voice besides Cassy's and your own. However, I know you have too much confidence in me to try to deceive me; therefore I will not doubt your word." Sam turned away his head, and remained silent. The young girl then approached the bed on which Gassy was lying, and with much interest inquired how she felt. " Very weak and bad, ma'am, indeed ; but I have not got the fever." And in fact, with all the symptoms of a serious illness, Gassy discovered no signs of yellow-fever. " So much the better," replied Henrietta, " because, in that case, it will not be long before you are well again. I expect in nursing Wilkie and the other servants, you have over-fatigued yourself." " Oh ! no, ma'am," said the negress, " that is not all : nursing my poor little boy was only a pleasure to me, and to try and help my own people, that was my duty, THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 119 you know. But .please tell me, ma'am, how is my little Wilkie getting along this evening?" "Very well, indeed; you need have no uneasiness about him now." "I would like to thank you, mistress," said Cassy. "because it was you saved my child, when Mrs Edwards would have been glad to see him die. Oh!" she added, lowering her voice, " why can not my poor Archy also find such a friend?" Henrietta was about to ask an explanation of these words, when she thought she saw a curtain, placed be- hind the bed, suddenly moving. An involuntary shud- der ran over her, and Sam, who, until then, apparently involved in deep reflection, had been sitting, gazing at- tentively at the young girl, observed the movement. A sudden inspiration seemed to seize the negro, who, fall- ing on his knees before Henrietta, began to implore her pardon. "Pardon you for what?" she demanded gravely. "For having deceived you," he cried. "Yes, mis- tress, there is somebody hid here. You was not mis- taken. But when I tell you that it is my son, and that the most cruel vengeance will fall on him if he is dis- covered, you will forgive me for having told you a lie you who have always been so good to us !" Then getting up hurriedly, Sam ran to the curtain behind the bed ; with one hand he raised it, and with the other pointed to a young negro man, nearly twenty years old apparently. Tall and robust, the new-comer had an intelligent countenance, stamped with an expres- sion of indomitable pride and determination. 120 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. "Get on your knees, Archy !" cried Sam. " Get on your knees, boy, and ask Miss Henrietta to protect you." The young negro knelt for an instant ; then rising, he said, " Young mistress, I know how much you have done for my father and mother, and especially how good you have been to my little brother; that is the reason I knelt down before you a thing, mistress, I have never done to any body else before. " I have been your uncle's slave. I am very proud, but I would always have done my tasks, had it not been for the wickedness* of the overseer, who, knowing I was his equal, regarded me with the most perfect hatred. There is no kind of torture he did not inflict on me. I submitted to all his cruelty, because I did not want to leave my parents ; but one day my patience was at last exhausted. While Edwards was beating me, I threw my- self on him, and would have killed him, if they had not taken him out of my hands. Fortunately for me, this happened in one of the farthest fields. Before they had time to seize and tie me, as the overseer ordered them to do, I leaped a ditch, and by fast running, was very soon out of their reach. The same evening I was all safe. That happened three years ago. Edwards offered a large reward to any body who would catch me ; however, I braved the danger of coming in when I heard of my little brother's sickness, I wanted to see him so badly. I came in this afternoon without any one finding it out. Father tells me Wilkie is at the house, and I shall not get to see him ; but I am satisfied to have a sight of my old father and mother once more. Now, mistress, what will you do with the runaway? My fate is in your hands." THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 121 This recital was given with an accent of such haughty sorrow and sincerity that Henrietta was deeply moved with compassion. Gassy half raised herself in bed, and watched the scene with anxious eye, uttering stifled ex- clamations, and reaching her clasped hands imploringly toward the young girl. Sam endeavored to appear more composed ; but his trembling agitation betrayed the great anxiety he suffered. Archy stood immovable as a statue. A long silence ensued. Henrietta seemed to be re- flecting. " Archy," she said at length, " it is my duty, perhaps, to have you arrested ; but pity speaks louder than rea- son. Go ; but first promise me, as the price of my silence, that you will never undertake an act of violence against any one who may belong to this house." "What!" cried Archy, "not even against Edwards?" " Not even against him." " I can not promise " "But you must promise," replied the young girl, in a tone of authority. " God has forbidden us to take revenge. If I, for instance, remembering the suffer- ings I endured among them, should determine to be re- venged on your race, what would become of you ? be- cause, listen to me but no, the story would take too long, and I am afraid they will send to look for me. Swear that you will obey me!" Archy made no reply. At that moment a noise was heard without. "Go!" said Henrietta; "but you have sworn, is it not ?" "Never!" replied the young negro; "but for you, young mistress, for your sake alone, I would do any thing 122 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. possible, because my father has not been deceived in thinking you are good." While speaking, Archy had displaced one of the logs in the side of the cabin ; then embracing Sam and Cassy with great affection, he bowed to Henrietta, and disap- peared. His father hastened to return the log to its place. "O my dear young mistress ! be merciful!" cried Cas- sy imploringly. " Archy has not obeyed you ; but for- give him, forgive him, mistress ; he has suffered so much ! God only knows how much !" At the same instant the door opened, and the over- seer appeared. " Miss Lebrun," he said, " your uncle wants you ; he felt uneasy, and sent me to look for you." " Very well," replied the young girl. " Good-by, Cassy, I will come again to-morrow evening, and see how you are getting along." And although greatly troubled at the bare possibility of Edwards having heard and recognized Archy's voice, she assumed an air of quiet unconcern, and accompanied the overseer to the house. CHAPTER XXIII. LETTER WRITTEN BY HENRIETTA TO HER PARENTS. THREE months after the last-described scene, Anthony and Margaret Lebrun received the following letter from their daughter : " MY DEAR FATHER AND MOTHER : It has now been more than two years since I left you, and I am yet un- able to predict when we shall meet again. I dare not even think of the uncertainty, it makes me so miserable. Not that I am unhappy here ; oh ! no ; my uncle is the soul of goodness, and perfectly devoted to me, studying my wishes and pleasure even in the most trivial mat- ters. And yet I hesitate and dread speaking to him on the subject of our return to France ; he has become so much accustomed to the Creole habits and style of living that the idea of changing seems to make him shudder. He constantly thinks and speaks of you, and desires, above all things, to see you ; but the thought of leaving the loved country of his adoption, and having again to change in every habit of his life, as it is at present, necessarily makes him hesitate, and recoil from the ordeal. I hope, notwithstanding, that he will 124 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. ultimately decide on going, as events recently transpir- ing have been the source of great trouble to him. " You must know that about three months since, uncle had arranged a magnificent festival in my honor, which was to have continued two days. Every thing had been prepared in the most luxurious and elegant style ; but alas ! the festivities were suddenly interrupted and brought to a most unexpected and terrible conclusion." Henrietta here related the circumstances as they had occurred : the appearance of the yellow-fever, the diffi- culty with the overseer, then the episode and discovery of Archy. In her humility she omitted telling but one thing, and that was the heroic part she had performed in nursing the sick. She added : " The pestilence claimed many victims ; twenty slaves, which is one fourth the number owned by my uncle, are dead. I know not how I have escaped. God has been merciful to me ; he intends to preserve my life, I suppose, for your sakes, my dear good parents. " Write to me oftener, I pray you ; and never let a single vessel come off, without sending me a letter. If you only knew how much I need these constant remem- brances ! because, I am obliged to acknowledge, I could never become accustomed to this country, nor be willing to live in it. " Now that the yellow-fever has disappeared, visiting has again been resumed. Among those who first hasten- ed to us was Madame Delmont. She seems to love me as dearly as if I were her own daughter. The accident that THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 125 separated us in Africa, and which was followed by such serious consequences to me, has increased still more her affection for me. I am also quite fond of her children ; they are very lovely, and I am always glad when she brings them with her. " I have had the happiness, recently, of receiving a letter from Mr. Thompson and his family. Natalie and Eva, it seems, have not forgotten me ; and this delights me more than I can express ; for under what obligations have I not been placed to those lovely young girls and their estimable parents ! Uncle was anxious to have a share in my grateful acknowledgments, and we have se- veral times already sent them boxes of our American productions and luxuries, little attentions which they seem to enjoy very much. " I hope, my dear parents, that you also derive some pleasure from our little presents. It is I who get them all up for you, and in doing so, I bathe with my tears every article sent you ! But I do not wish to make you sad ; on the contrary, I want you to remember nothing but the joy I shall feel when I can announce the time of our departure for France. " Ellen McDougall is always the same devoted friend, and we see each Qther very frequently. Uncle is also very much attached to this dear, good girl, consequently there is no obstacle to our intimacy. When with Ellen, I am always reminded of Leonie Hermier ; Leonie is more cheerful and lively than Ellen ; but both are sensi- ble and affectionate, and I consider myself extremely fortunate in having two such friends. " Do not neglect, my dear parents, to keep me con- 126 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. stantly informed of Leonie's condition, and whether she will return very soon to France. When you write to Madame Hermier, beg her to say to my poor friend, how deeply grieved I have been to hear of her illness. "And dear Celestin, will he return very soon to Havre ? and does he often write to you ? " I have commenced my letter by making all manner of requests of you. I should now, I suppose, give you some particulars about myself and my every day life. It is very simple, and very much the same as I have already described it to you. In the mornings, to the continued astonishment of those around me, I rise very early. I read and study, and as often as possible go to mass. But, unfortunately, the nearest church is at New-Orleans, which is about fifteen miles from The Acacias. Uncle although so indulgent in every other respect, will not consent for me to go, except on Sundays ; and always finds some pretext to keep me at home. To compensate for this deprivation, the pastor comes occasionally to visit us. " The Abbe' Durand is not yet an old man ; but the life of a priest in this country is attended by such inces- sant fatigue and constant labor that the locks of this good father are already blanched, an$ he has the appear- ance of an old man. " I enjoy his visits very much ; he understands my uncle perfectly, and without seeming to intend it he says many excellent things to him, and especially on the subject of slavery. He never fails to visit the " negro quarter," where his presence and counsel seem to be well received. The slaves are all Protestants, generally Baptists, though THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 127 some are Methodists ; but whatever creed they may pro- fess, they are obliged to be impressed with the genuine goodness and piety of the Abbe Durand. " The afternoon is usually devoted by my uncle to the enjoyment of his siesta, as is the custom with all Southern people ; at five o'clock I rejoin him and leave him no more until he retires for the night. " I am still taking lessons, and my professors assure me that I am quite proficient in music and drawing. I have by no means neglected the other branches of edu- cation, as I am most ambitious to render myself worthy of the advantages lavished on me through the indulgent kindness of my uncle. " When, by accident, I find myself alone, I sew, and am assisted in this by the two quadroons already men- tioned, Betty and Malcy. I try to instruct these young girls on every subject possible, and endeavor especially to enlighten their understandings with the truths of Catholic faith. I have not found this very difficult to do, as they both have great confidence in me. " I have not neglected little Wilkie either ; he be- comes every day more intelligent, and uncle having given him to me, as my own "property," I am at liberty to as- sume the entire control of him, and keep him removed from those who would corrupt and lead him astray. He is almost constantly with me, and always accompanies me in my walks. Sam and Gassy have been, through my influence, excused from working out in the fields, and are now employed as house-servants. " I am told that Archy escaped from a grand hunting party organized by Edwards, and sent, with his blood- 128 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. hounds, to capture the runaway. I know not how he was informed of Archy's visit. " If it were only left to me, how quickly every thing here would be changed ! But what can I do ? Pray and hope ! And surely I will not fail to do that. My dear parents, pray also for your child. " During my leisure moments, I have made a sketch of White Cottage ; I have also sketched, from memory, liknesses of you all. They are, of course, very imper- fect ; but having even such portraits reconciles me in some degree to this cruel separation, so far from you. " After a while, I will send you a portrait of myself, also my own work ; I shall be very much delighted if you think it good. " And now, what more can I tell you ? I believe no- thing else, without repeating something I have written in my former letters ; as my days here are usually repeti- tions of each other. " Adieu, then, my dearest father and mother, or rather I should say au revoir, the word adieu is too sad, and I require to have my courage kept up, and all the cheer- fulness of my nature aroused, in order to sustain in my heart the hope of seeing you very soon. " I beg you to kiss dear little Henry for me, also Emily, and if my brother Celestin has returned, tell him not to forget his sister, who lets not a single day pass without thinking of him. " Au revoir, dearest father ; au revoir, dearest mother ; only love me half as dearly as you are loved by " Your devoted " HENRIETTA." THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. . 129 In every letter a little note was inclosed from her uncle, who would let no opportunity pass of thanking his brother and sister-in-law for their kindness in send- ing Henrietta to live with him. The joy of her presence was to the planter an inexhaustible theme. However Anthony and Margaret, pleased as they were by these testimonials of affection, began to grow impatient at the long absence of their child. CHAPTER XXIV. A MORNING WALK CAMP OF THE RUNAWAY NEGROES. IT was a beautiful morning in the month of March ; the sun rose in great splendor, and all nature seemed to wear a festive appearance. The flowers opened their perfumed chalices, the birds sang their sweetest songs, even the grass seemed fresher, and of a more brilliant green than usual. Henrietta determined to take advan- tage of the early hours of this delicious morning, and after obtaining her uncle's permission, started out for a long walk, taking with her Betty, Malcy, and the little negro Wilkie. They directed their steps toward a small river, bor- dering on the west of the plantation. This water-course with its banks, rendered beautifully picturesque by the thick heavy foliage of innumerable trees covering them, promised a cool and inviting shade. They had scarcely reached the cover of the trees, be- fore Henrietta began to inhale the delightful fragance exhaled by the leaves and flowers, and borne upon the cool refreshing breeze from the water. Festoons of the odorous yellow jasmine, covered the trees in wild profu- sion, and hung across the pathway in tangled masses, THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 131 which slight obstacles the gay promenaders, with child- like joy, leaped over or gayly put aside. The air was filled with those indefinable sounds produced by awaken- ing nature on all such bright summer mornings, mingled with the joyous notes of thousands of feathered songsters of the forest. The eye was gladdened by the bright ver- dure, and the view of the rippling waves of the crystal- line river, and invited to follow the movements of the graceful little humming birds, so aptly and poetically called "nature's animated flowers." Thousands and thousands of brilliant insects of the brightest and most beautiful colors were flying and buzzing in swarms through the air. All was life, animation, and beauty. " Henrietta, enraptured by the scene, had not noticed that the road she had taken was becoming more and more solitary, and now began to assume a wild and isolated appearance. The trailing vines and honeysuckles hung in more profuse and thickly tangled masses, and the lit- tle foot-paths, bordering on the river, were becoming few and almost untrodden. At length, feeling fatigued, Henrietta seated herself on the trunk of a fallen tree, but only after Wilkie and Malcy had made a careful examination, and were sure that no hidden reptile lurked about the improvised seat. In the mean time, Betty took from a light basket she car- ried, a collation which she soon arranged tastefully on the grass. "How delightful this is!" exclaimed Henrietta; "what a quiet, lovely spot, perfectly charming!" "But O Miss Henrietta!" replied Malcy earnestly, " let me beg you to look around, and see how lonesome 132 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. and out of the way this place is. Indeed, it will not be safe for us to stay here very long, ma'am." "And why not ?" " Because places like this are generally frequented by runaway negroes. If they found us here, what would become of us ?" "Indeed! is that so?" replied Henrietta; "come, then, let us hasten and eat our breakfast, and then we will go." At this moment Wilkie approached his young mis- tress, and pretending to be picking up something on the ground near her, said, in a low voice, " Miss Henrietta, there is somebody in the bushes watching us." " Are you certain of that, Wilkie ?" " Oh ! yes, ma'am ; just look over there to the right of us, among those reeds on the river bank. I see two bright shining eyes " "And me too," said Betty. "I see somebody there plain enough. For God's sake, Miss Henrietta, don't look frightened, but just talk on, unconcerned: like you didn't suspect nothing. May be they won't trouble us, and we'll try and get away from this place as quick as possible." Henrietta arose quietly, and, concealing her alarm, started on, carelessly telling the servants to follow her. She had not proceeded a hundred paces, when she felt her arms seized from behind, and some kind of a covering thrown over her head. She was hurried rapidly forward. In vain she endeavored to scream ; the cover- ing around her head was drawn across her mouth, stif- THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 133 ling her voice, and as she heard no sound from the ser- vants, she concluded they had been made to submit to the same treatment. She was so terror-stricken, poor girl, as to be almost deprived of consciousness ; and had scarcely strength to commend herself to God, and in- voke His assistance. After a quarter of an hour's rapid march, she was carried across the river ; at least she thought she heard the sound of running water. A few minutes later, and she was deposited on the bank, and the covering re- moved from her eyes, though her mouth was still left bandaged. The scene that presented itself to Henrietta's gaze was certainly calculated to inspire the utmost terror. Twenty-five or thirty negroes and mulattoes had aban- doned their preparations for breakfast, and come to ex- amine the prisoners ; for Betty, Malcy, and Wilkie were all there, closely bound and tied. Some of the runa- ways (for they were readily recognized as such), armed with long knives, and some kind of huge knotted clubs, gesticulated violently, and uttered the most threatening exclamations, announcing their determination to kill the prisoners on the spot. But a mulatto, of herculean stature, cut short this harangue, by reminding them that they would have to await the return of their chief or leader. In the mean time, these ferocious creatures to whom the mulatto ad- dressed himself, began to overwhelm Henrietta and her attendants with the most violent abuse. They reproach- ed the young girl with having cruelly tyrannized over the 134 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. slaves, and condemned Betty and Malcy for being so de- graded and cowardly as to remain with their master. Very soon, and while they were waiting for the arri- val of the chief of the gang, the excitement in the camp reached such a height that poor Henrietta silently com- mended her soul to God, in anticipation of a speedy death. The threats and vociferations redoubled, and the mulatto seemed no longer able to restrain his com- rades, or prevent them carrying their murderous designs into immediate execution, when the cry was heard, " The chief, the chief!" and all rushed out to meet him. An- other moment, and he stood before the prisoners, on re- cognizing whom, he immediately uttered an exclamation of surprise. "What!" he exclaimed sternly, "how could you ever have committed such a blunder as this!" And before they had time to divine his intention, he had torn away the cords and bandages from Henrietta and her attend- ants. A loud murmur of disapprobation arose from the group, and a number of the runaways approached the leader in order to remonstrate ; but with a wave of his hand he motioned them back. "Listen to me," he exclaimed, in a voice of authori- ty; "you know I have never deceived you. Well, this white person, far from being cruel to the negroes, has al- ways been their friend. Ask my brother there, who it was nursed and waited on him through the yellow-fever ? Ask those two girls, if it were not for this young lady, if they would not be kept out, working like brutes in the field ? And me too she saved me ; when I stole in to THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 135 see my sick mother, if she had betrayed me to the over- seer, as she might have done, you know what I would have suffered ; the most cruel beatings, and, may be, been whipped to death ; any how, if they had not killed me, they would have put me back into a harder slavery than before ! But Miss Henrietta saved me, and now my friends, say, do you still want to kill her?" This harangue of Archy for it was he seemed to make a powerful impression on the greater number of the runaways. Some of them, however, still threatened and exhorted their comrades not to listen to the chief. At this juncture, Wilkie sprang up, and rushed into the midst of the rebels. " Listen to me also," he cried, with flashing eyes, and his little hand raised as if to defend his young mis- tress ; " all that my brother has told you is true, and be- sides, he has not told you that Miss Henrietta is the only dependence, the saviour of the slaves in the house. If you only knew how good she is to us all, how she tries to lighten our work, and to keep us from being punish- ed ! Betty," he cried, turning toward the two quad- roons, " come here, you and Malcy, and say if I have not told the truth ; say, both of you, if, since Miss Hen- rietta came, she has not kept us all from being whipped and beaten by that wicked Mrs. Edwards ?" " Yes, yes," the two girls hastened to reply. " In- deed, she has done every thing for us ; our young mis- tress is our saviour, and it would be a shame and a cry- ing sin for any body to do her any harm." Until this time, Henrietta had been so terrified and entirely bewildered by her situation, that after Archy 's 136 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. arrival she had not been able to utter a word ; but on hearing herself so warmly defended, her presence of mind gradually returned. After a moment's silence, dur- ing which she calmly surveyed her persecutors, she sum- moned up all her courage and said, " They have told you the truth in assuring you that I have tried to do every thing possible for the slaves, and to protect them, as far as has been in my power ; and yet, nobody has greater reason than myself, perhaps, to cherish feelings of resentment against your race. Two years ago I left my own country and family and came to Louisiana to live with my father's brother. The vessel that brought me over landed on the coast of Africa. There, in consequence of an affray which came near be- ing fatal to all who accompanied me, I found myself a prisoner in the hands of the negroes. I can not describe the sufferings they inflicted on me, a total stranger to them, and one who had never done them any harm ; the re- collection is too painful to dwell upon. Know, howev- er, that it was their intention to murder me, and offer me up at one of their public feasts,- as a sacrifice to their idols. But God saved my life, and delivered me out of their hands. I escaped from the awful dangers that sur- rounded me, and reaching some of my own race, they assisted me in getting to this country. On entering my uncle's house at New-Orleans, the first sight of the slaves recalled so vividly the sufferings I had experienced in Africa, that I could with difficulty conceal my aversion and horror. And yet, from that day, I determined to do all for them in my power, and to render them as happy as possible in their condition. THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 137 " Do you know," continued Henrietta, with increased energy of voice and manner, " do you know why I tried to forget my resentment ? It was because I am a Chris- tian, and the God I worship commands me to render good for evil. That command I have gladly executed in behalf of your people, because I believe that negroes are no more wicked or depraved than other men. Their eyes have never been opened to the light of truth ; that is why they are inspired with feelings of revenge. Ah ! well, if by taking my life, you think you will be repaid for your past sufferings and wrongs, take it ; and with my last breath I will continue to pray for you, that God may forgive you, and restore your race yet to liberty." These generous sentiments finished what Archy and the servants of Henrietta had commenced. Tears filled the eyes of these savage men, who, for years, had never felt an impulse of humanity or compassion. With a unanimous voice, they swore to protect and defend the young girl to the utmost extremity of devotion, and at once informed her that she was at liberty to return home. " Permit us, however," they said, " to again bandage your eyes, and conduct you to a safe distance from our camp. It is not because we suspect you, but your safe- ty might be compromised by an involuntary indiscre- tion ; and besides, miss, when you get back into the road, walk as fast as possible, for Dick might overtake you, and nobody can escape from him." Henrietta accepted these conditions for herself and her companions. A quarter of an hour later, Archy re- moved the bandages from their eyes, and after taking a 138 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. respectful leave of his young mistress, and embracing his brother affectionately, he left them and returned to the swamps. The excitement which had, -until this time, sustained Henrietta, was too intense to continue. A reaction very soon took place, and she for a moment feared she would not have sufficient strength to enable her to reach the house. "O Miss Henrietta!" exclaimed the two quad- roons, "you don't know how terribly frightened we felt about you ! But we beseech you to say nothing to mas- ter, about what has happened ; because he will immedi- ately send out to hunt them with the hounds and the overseer, and these poor runaways might be brought back, and then, oh ! such dreadful times as we would have here !" Henrietta herself, judging that silence might be ne- cessary, at least for the time, assured the quadroons that she would not betray the secret. The first person she met, on entering the house, was her uncle, who, alarmed at the prolonged absence of his niece, was just dispatching a messenger to look for her. The planter was shocked on beholding the extreme pallor and exhaustion of Henrietta, who hastily assured him that it was only the effect of a slight indisposition, and nothing at all serious. " I do not wish you to take any more such long walks unless I am with you," he replied ; " if any thing should happen to you, I would never forgive myself." Henrietta, with forced smile, replied that in a few THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 139 hours she would be entirely restored. The same even- ing, when she made her appearance at tea, all traces of indisposition had disappeared, and she seemed perfectly cheerful and well. CHAPTER XXV. MR. LEBRUN'S ILLNESS SUFFERINGS OF THE SLAVES THE INSURRECTION. HENRIETTA resolved to inform the Abbe Durand, under the seal of secrecy, of all that had occurred. She believed it possible that the good priest would find some means of assisting the unfortunate runaways, and per- haps reconciling them to their master. But an unex- pected event prevented her from carrying out her de- sign. Mr. Lebrun was taken violently ill, and Henriet- ta's time and attention were immediately devoted entire- ly to her uncle. After a few days, finding that she would be unable to absent herself to go to New-Orleans, she determined to write and beg the Abbe Durand to visit her ; but the servant charged with the commission returned, and announced that the Abbe had just started on a journey, to be absent two months. The condition of Mr. Lebrun grew each day more and more alarming. Henrietta, forgetting in the great anxiety she felt, that she had failed to secure the advice of the priest on a most momentous subject, thought of nothing but applying herself, heart and soul, to the care of her uncle, to amuse and divert his mind as far as possible from his sufferings. The physicians were apprehensive of a general para- lysis of the system, but added that, in any event, the ill- THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. - 141 ness would be a prolonged and serious one. Their prog- nostications were realized ; it was soon with the greatest difficulty the invalid could be moved, even occasionally, from his bed to an easy-chair, in order to rest him ; the slightest movement causing him to utter the most dis- tressing groans of anguish. Unable to read or write, Mr. Lebrun would have died of ennui but for the companionship of his niece. Always cheerful and affectionate, she exerted herself in a thousand ways to divert him. That she might constant- ly be near him, she had her piano, her little library, her work-table, and painting materials, all moved into his chamber. While awake, she read aloud to him, from such works as she knew would amuse him and divert his mind from his condition. She played and sang his favorite songs and conversed with him, always carefully avoiding other than the most cheerful subjects. While he slept, she watched by his bedside, engaged with her embroidery or drawing. She was constantly assisted in her task by Ellen McDougall, and it was doubly pleas- ing to see these two amiable young girls earnestly vying with each other in their efforts to call to the lips of the weary invalid a smile of satisfaction. Days glided by without any perceptible change in the condition of Mr. Lebrun. More than a month had passed, and the physicians, anxiously interrogated by Henrietta, confirmed their first opinion. " And do you think," she added, wiping the tears from her eyes, " that by careful nursing, I may yet be able to keep my uncle for a long time with us ?" The physicians assured her that the invalid might 142 THE FISHERMAN S DAUGHTER. live many years, especially if no new complications of the disease were developed. The life that Henrietta would henceforth have to lead might have seemed gloomy enough, but she did not view it in that light. Profoundly grateful for the benefits her un- cle had bestowed on herself and her family (as well as all he anticipated doing for them in the future), the thoughts of the young girl took but one direction, and that was, to endeavor, by the most devoted care and attention to her uncle, to testify the gratitude she felt for all he had done and intended doing for her family. It will be readily understood how, in consequence of the planter's illness, and Henrietta's exclusive devotion to him, the overseer and his wife were enabled to regain almost entirely their old authority over the slaves on the plantation. The entire house groaned under the iron yoke of Mrs. Edwards, while the slaves employed in the fields were more than ever subjected to the cruel treat- ment of her husband. But all this came to an end. The overseer and his wife, fearing they might lose their situations in conse- quence of the planter's death (which might occur at any time), determined to increase, as rapidly as possi- ble, the small fortune they had already amassed by fraud and dishonesty. With more audacity than ever before, the overseer converted large amounts to his own benefit, which should have been returned to Mr. Lebrun. He concealed the actual receipts, and exaggerated the expenses ; in a word, used every possible means of ap- propriating to himself the greater portion of the revenues of the estate. THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 143 At one time his calculations came near being frus- trated. Mr. Lebrun, alarmed at the course affairs had taken, expressed his intention of employing an assis- tant overseer, who would be required to render him an exact account of the most minute expenditures. Ed- wards thus understood that he had gone too far, and at once commenced leaving a larger margin to his receipts ; but as he could not bring himself to decide upon renounc- ing the immense acquisitions he had been so rapidly accu- mulating, he determined, by overworking and otherwise wronging the slaves, to regain what he regarded as per- sonal losses. Their rations were consequently diminished to such an extent that the unfortunate creatures had scarcely suf- ficient to keep them from starving, while at the same time their tasks were redoubled. A number of slaves died from the effects of this regimen ; Edwards careful- ly prevented the planter from being informed of this, and compelled the survivors, at the point of the lash, to redoubled exertions in order to make up the deficiency. Nothing was neglected in carrying out this system of oppression ; and doubtless, had it not been for the pre- sence of Henrietta, Edwards and his wife, taking advan- tage of the enfeebled condition of the planter, would have succeeded in secluding him from all communica- tion with his friends, and in that way shortening his days. The young girl, believing that matters were not going right in the house, several times expressed her con- victions on the subject to Mrs. Edwards. But the latter, with her usual consummate adroitness, readily diverted her suspicions, and very soon Henrietta's attention 144 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. would again be entirely centred in the care of her in- valid uncle. She had appointed Betty and Malcy to assist her in nursing, an arrangement which of course, excited the sovereign displeasure of the overseer's wife. And Wilkie was also constantly in the chamber, ready to attend himself to the slightest order or errand, or see that it was done promptly. In conversing with his niece, it sometimes happened that Mr. Lebrun would express his fears lest she should become unhappy on account of not being able to return to France. " My dearest uncle," Henrietta replied one day, " I would be glad if you would banish all such thoughts. How could I regret having an opportunity of proving my gratitude and affection for you ! I often think of France, I confess, and it would indeed be a great plea- sure to see my beloved parents again ; but if you wish to send me back to them now, I should, for the first time, be under the necessity of disobeying you. My parents have another daughter, and a son, who console them during my absence, or enable them to wait more patient- ly my return. But you, my dear uncle, are here all alone. It is true you have friends who are devoted to you ; but even they can not love you as I do I, who am indebted to you for the peace and prosperity enjoyed by my parents, for my education, my happiness, in a word, for every thing I am or enjoy !" And Henrietta threw her arms around her uncle's neck and embraced him affectionately. THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 145 Too deeply moved to reply at once, Mr. Lebrun sat with tears of joy silently coursing down his cheeks. "As soon as I recover my health," he said at last, " I promise you, dear child, that you shall be made perfect- ly happy." It was now the young girl's turn to shed tears of joy. " Perfectly happy !" she repeated mentally, " O my God ! I thank Thee for this hope !" Then for her all care seemed banished. Her uncle would soon be well ! She already imagined herself at home with her parents and her uncle ! Will the future bring the realization of that dream ? In the mean time the sufferings of the slaves contin- ued to increase, and their condition became so intolera- ble that the more desperate among them resolved to put an end to it. Notwithstanding the overseer's vigilance, they estab- lished a correspondence with the runaway slaves (the same who had taken Henrietta prisoner), and the secret was so well kept that no suspicion was aroused. In order to prevent all possibility of treachery, a gen- eral meeting was called, and the slaves all made to take a solemn oath not to disclose the plot under penalty of death. Sam and Archy were both present at this meeting, and endeavored to stipulate for the safety of Hen- rietta; but they were refused, and forced to give up and trust in Providence for the result. The rage of their companions was excited to such a degree that the savage men were unable to comprehend any thing but revenge. 146 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. Dick, the runaway whom Edwards had formerly punished in the most unmerciful manner, and whose children had been sold by the overseer, had sworn to de- stroy every thing about the plantation, and would not tolerate the proposal to spare Henrietta. " If I had been on the island when that young wo- man was brought there, things wouldn't have turned out as they did. I'd have shown them very different," he said, with a threatening gesture. Dick had been the ringleader of the conspiracy. For a long time he had been urging them on to an insurrection. It was he who, during the confusion prevailing at The Aca- cias on the occasion of the grand entertainment given by Mr. Lebrun, his master, had tried to gain over the slaves on the plantation to his plans, and it was his voice that had so greatly alarmed Henrietta. He, at that moment, was trying to persuade two or three of his old companions in slavery that this would be the most favora- ble opportunity they would have, to kill all the whites while they were asleep ; but the events transpiring in the evening put an end to all idea of revolt, which had begun to spread widely and make great progress among the slaves. CHAPTER XXVI. INSURRECTION OF THE SLAVES. THE health of Mr. Lebrun showed no symptoms of improvement, but fortunately became no worse ; for three months the planter remained in the same condition. His physicians seemed to have renounced all hope of his recovery. Nature, they said, might ultimately triumph over the disease, and a salutary reaction would follow; but they could give no positive assurance of this result. Henrietta never once flagged in her untiring care and devotion. Every day she seemed to find some new method of amusing and entertaining the poor paralytic. Her patience never wearied, the sunny cheerfulness of her countenance was never clouded by a shadow of en- nui. The sole desire of her heart was to render her pre- sence as agreeable as possible to her uncle. On several occasions, Mr. Lebrun had spoken of making his will. One morning, after suffering much more than usual, he expressed his intention of doing im- mediately what he considered his duty in this respect. " Because," he added, " it is but just and right that I should bequeath you a larger share of my property than your brothers and sister. Even then, I shall never be able sufficiently to acknowledge my gratitude for your devotion." 148 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. " Dearest uncle," replied Henrietta, " I beg you not to think of making your will. I hope it may be a long time yet before it will be necessary for you to trouble yourself about that. Your physicians have truly said that God is all-powerful, and if He desires to raise you from this sick-bed, He is able, and will do it. Every day I pray for your recovery. It would be, I assure you, doubly painful to me, to lose you in this country. But that will not happen. You will recover, and we shall re- turn to our beautiful France, our beloved Normandy, and you will yet spend many happy years in the bosom of your family." " I have no longer any hope of that," interrupted the invalid. " Two months ago, I still thought my recovery possible ; but I see very well, my child, I must renounce all such hopes. I shall never be able to realize the in- tention I had formed of going with you to France,, as soon as my health would permit ; but I can, at least, se- cure you your fortune, as I have always intended do- ing." " My dear uncle," interrupted the young girl, " I do not wish to offend or contradict you in the slightest thing ; but let me assure you, it would be most painful to me to be favored more than my parents. No, I beg you to make no will, or, if you are absolutely resolved to do it, then let it be made in favor of my father and mo- ther." " But my object," replied Mr. Lebrun, " is to make a special disposition in your favor, as a reward for your constant and devoted affection." " I have no need of a recompense for having loved THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 149 you. And moreover, have I not already been rewarded far beyond my merits ? Is it not to you, dearest uncle, I am indebted for the education I have acquired, and for the happiness enjoyed by my family ? What more could I ask ?" " Dear, good child !" exclaimed the invalid, moved to tears. " May God spare me yet a long time with you, before calling me to Himself; the thought of leaving you is the only regret I feel at the approach of death." " My dear uncle," responded Henrietta, sighing deep- ly, "let us leave this gloomy subject; why will you al- ways speak of dying, when there is no reason why you should despair of getting well ? I have a firm hope of your recovery. Do not try to destroy my confidence in this belief." At this moment, a confused sound was heard, coming from the direction of the garden. " What is that ?" demanded Mr. Lebrun. Henrietta raised the window, but saw nothing unusual; the noise, however, continued to increase. She felt very uneasy, although she gave no expression to her fears. "It is the wind, perhaps," she remarked, without dar- ing to betray her anxiety to her uncle. "The wind!" repeated Mr. Lebrun. "But, no! I hear loud cries, and all sorts of confused noises." In fact, furious cries, and loud clamors of every kind, could now be readily distinguished. The perspiration commenced pouring down the inva- lid's face. " This is incomprehensible," he murmured. " What can it mean ?" 150 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. " My God ! my God !" cried Henrietta, sinking on her knees before her uncle. " We are lost ! and it is I who have brought this upon you !" " You ! Why, you must be deranged, my child ! What are you saying ?" " Yes, I have been the cause of this insurrection ; for I know very well it is an insurrection of the slaves, uncle. Oh ! if I had only warned you in time !" At that moment Wilkie, followed by the two quad- roons, rushed into the room. " O master ! O Miss Henrietta !" they cried, over- whelmed with terror ; " they are coming ! they will soon be here!" Henrietta raised her eyes to heaven. " My God," she exclaimed calmly, " our lives are in your hands ; let all things be done according to your will." The cries and clamors approached, rapid footsteps ascended the stairs, the door opened suddenly, and Mrs. Edwards, pale as death, rushed in and threw her- self at Henrietta's feet. " Save me ! save me !" she cried. Before Henrietta had time to reply, the rebel slaves entered. Without hesitation, the young girl advanced and con- fronted them. " What do you want ?" she demanded in an authori- tative tone. The habit of obedience made these furious creatures involuntarily bow their heads ; but it was only for an in- stant. Dick, who appeared to be the leader, brandished a long knife with which he was armed. THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 151 " We are going to have our revenge on the white peo- ple!" he cried; and his companions echoed the cry, " Yes, we are going to have our revenge on the white people !" "Stop!" said Henrietta courageously. "Stop! Would you dare to strike your old master, and he sick and unable to defend himself? Would you dare to strike helpless women ?" " I command you to return instantly to the quarters," said Mr. Lebrun, in a voice of stern severity. " If you do not obey, I will have you punished by the overseer." "Punished by the overseer!" repeated Dick, with a laugh that made the blood run cold; "by the overseer, eh ? Look at him here he is ! Order him now to punish us !" The ranks opened, and Edwards was discovered, closely bound and tied. His face, all covered with dirt and blood, was no longer recognizable. His trembling limbs refused to support him ; two ferocious negroes held him up, grinning with malicious triumph. A cry of hor- ror escaped from Henrietta, while Mrs. Edwards fell fainting to the floor. "The time has come for revenge!" cried Dick. " Here, my friends, do your work ; no standing back now. Come along, and exterminate all these white people !" Several negroes advanced, and one of them seized the overseer's wife; another was in the act of laying his hands on Mr. Lebrun, when Henrietta, with a degree of strength which astonished herself, threw him off, and 152 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. placing herself before the invalid's chair on which her uncle was extended, she exclaimed, " Come, now ! come near him, if you dare. But be- fore you kill your master, you will first have to kill me, and that will be my reward for not denouncing the runaways when I discovered their camp. Kill me ! I deserve it for having been so foolish as to believe you had souls enough to be grateful for a benefit." At these words, two men advanced from among the crowd of negroes. They were Sam and Archy. " Miss Henrietta," they said, " you are safe among all the gang ; they will do you no harm ; we have made them swear that ; but as for master, we can do nothing for him." " Leave me then !" she exclaimed, " leave me ; I want none of your assistance ; I want none of your pity. If you kill my uncle, you shall kill me ; you can not tear me away from him. What holds you back, what are you waiting for ?" she cried, with a kind of exultation. " You, Archy, and you, Sam, haven't you the courage to strike me ? Come, I merit it, for having put so much confi- dence in you." Two cries were uttered at that moment ; one pro- ceeded from Wilkie, who placing himself between Hen- rietta and his brother, said to the latter, " Kill me also ; I will defend Miss Henrietta till I die !" The second cry came from Archy, who, aroused by the reproaches of his young mistress, his eyes flashing fire, and his lips quivering, made no reply ; but seizing his father's hand, the two rushed in front of the revolters. This scene required but an instant, and had scarcely THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 153 terminated, when a furious struggle began between Archy and his father on one side, and the rebellious negroes on the other. The latter accused their two comrades of be- ing traitors, and swore they would bury them beneath the ruins of the mansion, together with the planter and his niece. Dick encouraged the blacks to fight. " Exterminate them, every one," he cried ; " they deprived us of our liber- ty, and sold our children away from us !" And suiting the action to the word, he threw himself upon Archy and Sam with such violence and desperation that the victory seemed doubtful, and the other rebels, emboldened by his example, rallied promptly to his assistance. But, at the moment Henrietta's defenders were on the point of yielding to the force of superior numbers, a body of armed men arrived at The Acacias. They were led by Mr. McDougall in person. He had learned of the insurrection through the indiscretion of one of his own slaves, who had been let into the secret of the revolt that was to be attempted by their neighbors. He immediate- ly hurried over to Mr. Lebrun's assistance. His arrival caused the utmost consternation in the ranks of the rebellious slaves. Even before he ordered them to surrender, several had fallen on their knees, and were begging forgiveness, declaring they were not guilty, but had been forced into the conspiracy by others. But one among them was resolved not to return un- der the yoke of servitude ; and that was Dick. With a single bound he threw himself into the midst of the slaves, and brandishing his knife over his head, he plunged it into the heart of the overseer, then into his 154 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. own, and fell, exclaiming, as the life-blood poured from the mortal wound, " I die a free man, thanks be to God ! My dear children, I come to join you !" Henrietta, who, while danger threatened herself and her uncle, stood firm and undaunted, was so overcome by this scene of horror that she fainted and fell in- sensible to the floor. When she again returned to consciousness, the noon- day sun was gleaming into her chamber, and sitting at the foot of the bed, she recognized her friend, Ellen McDougall. " Ellen !" she exclaimed in a feeble voice. "O what joy!" cried Ellen, embracing her. "At last, my poor darling, you are beginning to recover. God only knows the anxiety and fear we have suffered about you." " Anxious ? afraid ? oh ! yes, that is true the negroes that insurrection " And Henrietta instantly grew pale, and seemed on the point of swooning. " Hush, hush !" quickly exclaimed Miss McDougall. " You must think no more of that ; try and imagine it was only a bad dream." But the recollection could not be so easily dispelled ; it still returned to Henrietta. " My uncle !" she cried. " What has become of uncle ?" "He is perfectly well; have no uneasiness about him." " Is that true ? Ellen, forgive me my suspicions ; it seems to me I have suffered a great deal ! My poor head THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 155 can not yet recall its ideas. But where am I ? Is this not your chamber ?" " Yes, my dear Henrietta, the doctor thought it best for you to have a change of air." " The doctor ! Have I been sick then ?" " Yes, I am obliged to acknowledge it. We have been very much alarmed about you, and even at present you require very careful nursing. Now, as the doctor has forbidden you to talk, I can not answer any more questions. You must avoid the least excitement." " But oh ! tell me, I entreat you, all that has happened at The Acacias ?" '* I will just as soon as the doctor will permit it." " One question only, then : you assure me that my uncle is well ; but is he here ?" " Yes ; and in a little while, if you are very reasona- ble, you shall see him. Come now, my darling," added Ellen, passing her arm under Henrietta's head, and kiss- ing her affectionaely, " be very good and quiet now ; obey me, I am your nurse. Believe me, you have nothing more to fear or dread." Henrietta was too weak to oppose any resistance to the commands of her friend. Assured of her uncle's safety, she submitted without murmuring to Ellen's di- rection, and sank into a quiet and refreshing slumber. The next day the doctor found his patient so much improved that he pronounced all danger past, and con- cluded she might hear, without fear of causing a relapse, all that her friend had to communicate. CHAPTER XXVII. A GLIMPSE OF THE PAST GREAT REJOICING. As soon as the physician left the room, Henrietta urged Ellen to relate all that had transpired during her illness. " You know," said her friend, " that my father, hav- ing learned, from one of our servants, of the plot against your uncle, hurried immediately to The Acacias. The spectacle that met his gaze was frightful. The floor of the chamber was inundated with blood from the wounds of Dick and the overseer. Several of the revolters were wounded, and among them Sam and Archy." "And did they escape? Are they living?" cried Henrietta vehemently. "I owe my life to them-!" " Let me tell you now what has happened : I will come to that in good time. My father found the dead and the wounded ; but what horrified him more than all else, was seeing yourself and your uncle lying in an in- sensible condition. At the first glance, he thought you were dead, but soon discovered his mistake. A physi- cian was hastily summoned, who at once declared that your uncle and yourself, having been so terribly impressed by what had occurred, should be immediately removed to another house ; otherwise, he could not answer for your lives ; he feared having you return to consciousness in THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 157 the midst of those frightful scenes through which you had just passed. " Consequently, my father had you brought here ; also Malcy and Betty, who, frantic with terror, had been seiz- ed with nervous convulsions. He removed little Wilkie also, who, although not dangerously wounded, yet requir- ed immediate attention. " The rebellious slaves were chained and closely guarded until Mr. Lebrun might be able to decide their fate. Sam and Archy, at first included among the pri- soners, were immediately released, as soon as my father was informed of the part they had acted in the terrible tragedy. You may suppose they have been well cared for ; but as their wounds, although severe, were not con- sidered dangerous, they were left in charge of the house. A week ago, Wilkie joined them, but comes regularly every day to inquire about you." " A week, did you say ?" asked Henrietta, with asto- nishment. " Have I been sick so long as that ?" u For nearly two months," responded Ellen. " A brain-fever has been the result of your excitement. At length, thank God, you are out of danger, and have now only to keep quiet, in order not to retard your convales- cence." " Dearest friend ! how much I am indebted to you !" exclaimed Henrietta, while tears of gratitude flowed from her eyes ; " and what do I not owe your good father ! But hasten, I pray you, to satisfy my impatient curiosity. What has become of Mrs. Edwards ? And my uncle ; is he well to-day ? has all this not had a bad effect on his health ?" 158 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. " Mrs. Edwards," replied Ellen, " is as well as could be expected under the circumstances ; but it is more than probable that she will never recover her reason." " How is that ?" " She is deranged, and is now an inmate of Dr. Bow- er's asylum, in New-Orleans." " O poor woman!" said Henrietta, who, in the depth of her compassion, forgot the odious character of Mrs. Edwards, and could only remember her afflictions. " But my uncle ?" " He is well. What could I tell you more gratifying than that ? However," she continued, in a laughing manner, " it would be better for me not to answer the question." And, opening the door, " There," she added, " whom do you see ?" A cry of joy burst from Henrietta's heart, as her un- cle, entirely recovered and looking well, hastened for- ward, and folded her in his arms. The excess of joy and surprise for an instant over- came the young girl ; she turned deadly pale, and closed her eyes. Immediately Mr. Lebrun and Ellen began to re- proach themselves for their mistaken management, when Henrietta, reviving, seized both their hands, pressed them convulsively to her heart, and bathing them with tears, murmured, "Oh! I am only too happy !" The rest of the day was spent in the enjoyment of their reunion, after so terrible an experience as the uncle and niece had passed through. It was necessary to explain to Henrietta the manner in which her uncle's health had been restored; the fearful excitement through THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 159 which he had passed produced a kind of swoon, follow- ed by a fever that continued for three days ; at the end of that time, his afflictions had almost entirely disappear- ed, and the doctor, finishing the work commenced by na- ture, had, by his skill, succeeded in entirely re-establish- ing his health. In the evening, Betty, Malcy, and Wilkie were allow- ed to come and see their young mistress ; all three of whom expressed the greatest joy, and declared it was Miss Henrietta's courage alone that prevented every body at The Acacias from being massacred. In less than a week, Henrietta was able to sit up. She was left, in consequence of her long illness, extreme- ly debilitated, and suffering from a nervous sensibility which increased under the least excitement. As soon as her strength would permit, Mr. Lebrun informed his niece of the resolution he had taken. " I promised to reward you, my dear child," he said, " for your devotion, and I shall no longer delay the ful- fillment of that promise. I have advertised my property for sale, and as soon as these affairs are all settled " He was interrupted by Henrietta throwing herself into his arms, and clasping his neck. " You understand me, do you not ?" he added. " We will return to France." CHAPTER XXVIII. EMANCIPATION OF THE SLAVES SALE OF PROPERTY. IT was not without a sad feeling that Henrietta returned to The Acacias. She could never summon sufficient resolution to enable her to enter the apart- ment in which the bloody drama occurred which we have just described. Sam and Archy had taken the best possible care of the house and premises ; nothing had been destroyed, and while faithfully executing the orders given them with regard to their companions, they had, at the same time, been able to do much toward alleviating the condition of those unhappy creatures, who were weighed down with woe at the though of having to be sold away from their families. It was indeed but too true that such was to be their fate. Mr. Lebrun had resolved upon it, believing that no purchaser of his plantation would be willing to buy slaves who had been guilty of an insurrection in which their master had barely escaped with his life. Before exposing them for sale, the planter desired to see them, and be sure they were all well-clothed and that none of them were sick. Henrietta accompanied her uncle on this visit, al- though he strongly opposed her intention, fearing the THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 161 associations connected with the sight of the slaves would occasion a dangerous degree of excitement. The insurgents were confined in one of the houses used for storing cotton, and in the very same one in which Henrietta had formerly organized her Sunday re- ligious exercises. Theirs was a crushing, hopeless sorrow, and had de- generated into a kind of apathy, which seemed to render them utterly insensible to every thing around them. They scarcely turned their heads when Mr. Lebrun and his niece entered. Only one among them dared to speak and ask his master not to sell them, promising him entire submission for the future. Mr. Lebrun made no reply, and the most profound silence again prevailed. On leaving the room, the planter and his niece were surrounded by the wives, sisters, and children of the pri- soners. Throwing themselves on their knees, they im- plored their master, with tears and cries, not to sell their husbands, their fathers, and their brothers from them. Henrietta could not endure the sight, and, bursting into tears, she fled for refuge to her chamber. Archy soon after came to seek her, announcing the arrival of the Abbe Durand. " Oh ! surely God has inspired this visit," she cried, and hastened to the parlor. " I have only learned this morning," said the priest, " of the events that have recently transpired here, and I hurried over to see you, at once." " Had you only been here before this insurrection, 162 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. Father Durand, I truly believe it never would have taken place." Then, having related her adventure at the camp of the fugitive slaves, she added, " It is useless now to dwell on what is past. How- ever, before leaving this country, I should like to prevent one thing, which it really seems will break my heart to witness. Uncle is determined to sell his slaves. I have just been with him to visit those unfortunate creatures and witnessed the tears and distress of their families, whose supplications addressed to their master were heart-rending ! Oh ! may I not entreat you, reverend father, to join me in persuading my uncle to set these wretched slaves at liberty ?" " My child, I fear that will not be possible." " Let us make the effort, at any rate. But here is uncle now." Alarmed at the state of excitement into which his niece had been thrown when visiting the slaves, Mr. Le- brun had come to inquire after her. " I am very well indeed, uncle, I assure you," she said, " but my heart is very, very sad. I have this moment informed Father Durand of the cause of my sorrow." " And will you not inform me also ?" inquired Mr. Lebrun. " Oh ! yes, dear uncle ; but you must first promise me you will not be angry. You know that I will say nothing with the intention of displeasing you." " Speak without fear or hesitation, my dear child : any request that it is in my power to grant is already accorded you." THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 163 " Well, dear uncle, I have just been saying to Father Durand that the one supreme desire of my heart would be accomplished if you could be persuaded to set all your' slaves at liberty." "You are dreaming!" interrupted Mr. Lebrun. " What ! would you intercede for these wretches, whose only regret is that they were not permitted to extermi- nate us ? I have said that they shall be sold." " Ah dear uncle ! if you but knew how much those poor negroes have suffered under the cruel domination of Edwards ! He is dead, and I will say nothing against the man ; but I assure you it was but natural that revenge should have fermented in the souls of these unhappy creatures. Remember how exemplary their conduct be- came during Father Durand's Sunday instructions. Had Edwards tried to influence and govern them by kindness, he could have effected any thing." "Effected any thing !". interrupted the planter. " Then you do not remember that instead of profiting by the instructions they received, these miserable creatures became too worthless and idle to live ?" " In that you are mistaken, dear uncle ; Edwards, naturally a bad man, was highly displeased because I procured this means of instruction for the slaves ; and he determined it should cease. Besides this, remember how he acted during your illness ; the slaves were brok- en down with work, half starved, and beaten constantly and without mercy." " And your overseer did this," added the priest, " for the sole purpose of increasing his own gains. I \Vould not wish to be wanting in charity ; above all, toward a 164 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. man who is no longer among the living ; but I am oblig- ed to inform you that your overseer, through the disho- nest means he employed, has succeeded in making a fortune of nearly twenty thousand dollars out of your estate." " Can it be possible ?" cried Mr. Lebrun, " It is true," responded the priest. " And as that fortune was accumulated by robbery and extortion, I be- lieve it my duty to inform you of what I know on the subject. Any further proof or information that you may desire will be furnished you by Mr. Herman, the banker." " Now, dear uncle, will you still refuse to believe me," replied Henrietta, " and to refuse my request ?" " But consider, my child," replied the planter, " con- sider what an amount of money those slaves are worth." " Oh ! do not speak of that, I beg you," cried Henri- etta earnestly ; " only remember that I shall owe you an eternal debt of gratitude for the sacrifice." ' " But another thing," said the planter, visibly moved, and influenced as much by his own natural goodness of heart as by the persuasions of his niece. " I do not wish, nor am I willing, to lessen the fortune which be- longs to you and your family." " My family will thank me, uncle, for having asked the liberty of your slaves, and these unhappy creatures will bless your name forever, for bestowing on them this priceless boon." " Well, well ! Let it be then as you say ! I will set them free ; this very day the emancipation-papers shall be drawn up." " O dear uncle ! how shall I ever sufficiently thank THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 165 you ?" said the young girl, taking his hands in her own, and pressing them to her heart. " I will go at once and announce the good news to the slaves." " No, no, not yet," interrupted the planter. " They have behaved very badly, are very guilty, and should at least be punished by being kept in suspense regarding the fate which awaits them. However, you may be very sure the punishment shall not be of long duration." Great tears stole silently down the cheeks of the Abbe Durand, which, Mr. Lebrun observing, asked him, " And why, my dear sir, do you weep ?" " I weep tears of joy !" replied the priest ; " glad that I shall at last behold some of these poor blacks realizing the blessing of freedom." Faithful to his promise, Mr. Lebrun made without delay all the arrangements necessary for the emancipa- tion of his slaves. The raillery of his friends failed to move him from his purpose. Every one exclaimed against an act of justice so expensive to him who ac- corded it. They even went so far as to declare such an example was dangerous, and made other remarks also, by no means pleasant or flattering to the planter. But no- thing had power to move him from his resolution, and, proceeding at once to execute his designs, he was soon in possession of the emancipation-papers. In the mean time, he arranged also for the sale of his property. Several purchasers presented themselves ; but as the plantation was to be sold without the slaves, the prices offered were not very high. However, after a great deal of annoyance and parleying, Mr. Lebrun sue- 1 66 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. ceeded at last in selling his plantation at a reasonable price. This affair once concluded, the planter found him- self in possession of a fortune of nearly two hundred thousand dollars. He then took the necessary measures to insure that this fortune, in case of his death, should immediately revert to the family of his brother. This accomplished, he determined to start for Europe. Just at that time, the three-mast ship " Vigilant," the same vessel that brought Henrietta from Africa, was about to sail, and he at once secured passage for himself and Henrietta. "We will embark in a very few days," he remarked to his niece, " and now is the time to make your visit to the negroes. I have their free-papers all ready." Henrietta's only reply was to throw her arms around her uncle's neck, weeping tears of grateful joy. CHAPTER XXIX. HAPPINESS EMBARKING FOR FRANCE. THE negroes continued in the same condition of body and mind. Sam and Archy, believing their fate would, of course, be similar to that of the other slaves, were almost in despair. When Mr. Lebrun again went among them, the same unbroken silence was maintained as on the occasion of his first visit ; but suppliant glances were cast toward Henrietta. The radiant expression of the young girl's lovely countenance announced a gleam of hope for the miserable creatures. They knew how good she was ; they remembered the kindness she had shown them since their captivity ; and they hoped she had gained some mitigation of their punishment. " You have rebelled against my authority," said Mr. Lebrun, in a severe tone. " You have murdered my overseer, and driven his wife into a mad-house, a condi- tion perhaps worse than death. You deserve, therefore, to be punished with the utmost severity. But an angel of mercy has interceded in your behalf. My niece, whose life you have dared to threaten, and whom you would have murdered but for the intervention of Sam and Archy my niece comes to announce that you are FREE, and thus avenge herself for your base ingratitude !" 168 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. " Yes, my friends," added Henrietta, " you are free !" " FREE !" The cry went up from the lips of every one of those despairing slaves, until the empty building reverberated with the echoes. " FREE !" and they arose, every man to his feet, and stood in breathless amaze- ment, gazing with a look of bewildered inquiry at the planter and his niece. " Free ! Can it be possible ? Shall we no longer have masters, no longer be slaves ?" " It is even so," replied the young girl. " Here are your free-papers." Then addressing Archy, she added, " Take off the chains that bind your friends." An indescribable scene followed this command. Loud exclamations and cries of joy mingled with the thanks that were showered upon Mr. Lebrun and his niece. The wives and children of the blacks, who from the door had heard the good news, rushed in and threw themselves into the arms of their husbands and fathers, and then conducted them to the feet of their generous owners, before whom they knelt. " May God forever bless you !" they exclaimed, with upraised hands, and tears of inexpressible happiness streaming from their eyes. " May God forever bless you and reward you !" " Dear uncle," whispered Henrietta, in a voice trem- bling with emotion, " does not this moment more than repay you for the sacrifice you have made?" Mr. Lebrun made no reply, his heart was too full for words, and his emotion so great he could with difficulty restrain his tears. " Listen to me," he at last said to the blacks. " You are now at liberty and are your own masters ; but re- THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 169 member that you will be compelled to work to live by the fruit of your own labor. Liberty does not mean idleness ; I have endeavored to insure employment for you, before setting you free, and I have been successful. I have especially recommended you all to Father Du- rand ; you may rely upon his assistance as long as you continue honest and industrious ; but I hope you will never give him cause to regret the interest he now takes in you." They all promised to be faithful and industrious ; we shall see hereafter how they kept their resolution. As Mr. Lebrun and Henrietta retired, they met Sam and Archy in the passage. " Master," they said, " and you, young mistress, you have given us our freedom, which is more to us than life. Now, as a testimonial of our gratitude, permit us, as freemen, to continue to serve you, as long as we live." " Thank you," replied Henrietta, with a kind smile, " thank you. I see that I have not been mistaken in my estimate of your character. But my uncle and I are go- ing back to our own country ; we can not take any of you with us, that is irrevocably decided. Remain here, among your own people, and by your good example try and influence them to work, and guide them in the way of virtue." " We will obey your orders, mistress," replied Sam, "if we can not follow you as we would like." When Betty, Malcy, and Wilkie Jearned that their young mistress was going to leave the country, all three implored her to take them along. "Take back our freedom, or let us go with you !" they cried; " we love you far better than freedom." 170 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. Henrietta had all imaginable difficulty in persuading them to remain with their people They were so dis- tracted they would listen to nothing ; but their young mistress could not take them, Mr. Lebrun having decid- ed that none of his servants should accompany them to France. All she could do was to promise to recommend the two quadroons to her friend Ellen McDougall. As to Wilkie, still so young, and in whom she was so deeply interested, she could but feel great anxiety about his fu- ture. In order to relieve her apprehensions, Mr. Lebrun promised to deposit with the Abbe Durand a sum suffi- cient to maintain the child until he was old enough to support himself. Relieved of this care, Henrietta thought of nothing more but finishing her preparations for departing and making her farewell visits. Ellen McDougall was inconsolable. "Oh!" she ex- claimed, " how much I regret that all your family can not come and live in Louisiana ! I have become so ac- customed to seeing you and loving you ! You will write to me very often, will you not ? Oh ! where shall I ever find another such friend?" The two young girls remained fora long time clasped in each other's arms. A thousand promises were ex- changed between them, Henrietta being no less afflicted at leaving her friend than Ellen was in seeing her depart. " Perhaps you may be able to visit us," she said, with forced composure.- " I have often heard your father ex- press a desire to visit France. Let us hope he will de- termine to do so, and who knows but he might be induc- ed to remain, and take up his permanent abode there ?" THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 171 "I can not flatter myself with that hope," replied Ellen sadly. " My father is now too old to think of leaving this country. I must bid you adieu ; but at least, dear Henrietta, I can promise never to forget you." " And I shall never cease to remember you, my dear Ellen, and love you as devotedly as now." And the two friends renewed a hundred times more their promises of fidelity and friendship, nor seemed to weary of repeating them. Some days later, Mr. Lebrun and his niece, followed by a veritable 'procession of friends, proceeded to the wharf to embark on their contemplated journey. Ellen was determined to remain until the last moment with her friend. The Abbe" Durand was also among those who escorted the travelers. Betty, Malcy, Sam and his wife, Archy, and Wilkie were already at the landing, waiting to take a last fare- well of their benefactors, and remain with them as long as possible. Wilkie threw himself at Henrietta's feet and had to be forcibly taken away. The despairing grief of the child was truly heart-rending. The Abbe Durand tried in vain to console him, and promised to arrange it that he should go and see Miss Henrietta as soon as he was grown ; but Wilkie's cries and lamentations became only more violent, and he declared he would not leave his dear mistress. At length the hour for their departure arrived, and, bathed in tears of happiness and regret, Henrietta em- barked with her uncle on board the vessel which was to carry them to France. CHAPTER XXX. " HOME AGAIN." FOR a long time, Anthony Lebrun and his wife look- ed in vain for letters from New-Orleans ; but every mail brought a disappointment. Henrietta's" had failed to reach them, and they knew not to what her silence could be attributed. The most painful forebodings oppressed them, while each was afraid to disclose to the other the extent of their apprehensions. The arrival of Celestin, who had completed his most successful voyage, brought some diversion to White Cot- tage. Three years of separation had passed rapidly for Celestin, now a strong, hardy sailor of sixteen years, and disposed to make his way gallantly through the world. Emily was twelve ; studious, gentle, ancl amiable, she was the great consolation of her parents, who disco- vered in her character all the good qualities of Henriet- ta, the beloved absent daughter. Little Henry, now eight years of age, exhibited the most promising disposi- tions. But very soon a new subject of sorrow unexpectedly occurred. They had confidently hoped to receive tid- THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 173 ings of Henrietta by the last mail-boat, and it arrived without bringing a word of consolation to the sad parents. Henrietta's long illness, and subsequent prepa- rations for the voyage home, were the cause ; but Antho- ny and Margaret were ignorant of this ; consequently their anxiety became intolerable. But this painful situation was not of long duration. One morning Celestin, who had gone to spend the day at Havre, returned hurriedly to his parents. He was evi- dently much excited, and his father and mother feared some accident had happened. " What is the matter ? Tell us what has happened ?" they anxiously inquired. "O my dear parents!" replied Celestin, "promise me not to be too much excited, promise me to be reasonable." "Celestin!" cried Margaret, "what is it you have to tell ?" "Well, I have received through Mr. Berlin news from uncle and Henrietta. They are coming are on their way to France ! Mr. Bertin is surprised that you have not heard it. My sister should have written you, he says." "Can this be possible?" exclaimed Margaret, as she sank on a chair, overcome by her feelings. " But," she added very soon, " is this really true ?" " Yes," faltered Anthony, " is this news certainly true?" And he could say no more, so great was his emotion. " It is true, certainly true ! Mr. Bertin has received a letter from my uncle." 174 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. "Who told you that ?" replied Margaret, "Come, Celestin, see that you conceal nothing from us !" "Mother," replied Celestin, "I will no longer dissi- mulate. My uncle and Henrietta are here !" Anthony and Margaret were unable to articulate a syllable ; a moment later, and Henrietta was folded to their hearts. The scene that followed can not be described ; to at- tempt it, would be to fall too far short of the reality ; we therefore leave it to the reader's imagination to portray. The same evening, all the family gathered around William Lebrun, to hear the descriptions he gave of Henrietta, of the joy and happiness with which she had surrounded him, and the devoted affection she had un- ceasingly shown him. The young girl would fain have cut short these panegyrics, but her uncle constantly re- turned to the subject. " I want them," he said, " to know and appreciate you as much as you deserve." " My dear Anthony, and you, my good sister Marga- ret," he continued, " it is owing entirely to my niece, this dear child of yours, that I am with you all to-day. Her virtues conquered all my inclinations, and it is in acknowledgment of what she has done for me, that I have left the country in which I had determined to end my earthly career." A few days after, they set about looking for a house better suited to the style of living to which Mr. Lebrun had been accustomed. The latter intended that all the family should live with him. A charming residence was selected and purchased at THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 175 Ingonville, in which Mr. Lebrun, having furnished it ele- gantly, installed himself with Anthony, Margaret, and Henrietta. Emily 'returned to boarding-school, Henry was placed at college, and Celestin, following the advice of his uncle, was preparing to enter a naval academy. All being thus arranged, life passed quietly and peacefully with this devoted family. Henrietta, how- ever, had yet one desire ungratified, which was to see Le- onie Hermier again, her earliest friend and companion. Two months after her return, this new joy was grant- ed ; Leonie and her mother returned to reside at The Elms. Thanks to the beautiful clime of Italy, Leonie had been entirely restored to health. It would be superfluous to say that the most amica- ble relations were re-established between the two fami- lies. Leaving, then, our characters, heretofore so con- stantly tried by affliction, now so perfectly happy, we will return to those who are living far beyond the sea. A year had passed since Henrietta left New-Orleans, when she received the following letter from the Abbe Durand : "My dear child," he wrote, "time passes rapidly; it has already been a year since you left us ; but, I as- sure you, no person here has forgotten you ; you have left souvenirs behind you in the hearts of your friends, that will never be effaced. " I shall now endeavor to fulfill my promise of keeping you informed of what passes here, among your friends and proteges. " First of all, the McDougall family are well ; and 176 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. every time I see them, we have a long chat about you. You will find inclosed a note from Ellen. " Wilkie works with a perseverance far beyond his years ; and when I try to moderate his ardor, he prompt- ly answers me that he is trying to prepare himself to go as soon as possible, to see his dear young mistress. Never has benevolence been better bestowed than on this child. I hope to make a good man of him. His fa- ther and brother have found constant work ; the former with a blacksmith, the latter in the shop of a house-car- penter. "Archy already renders great assistance to his em- ployer, who, having a bad opinion of all negroes, took him with much reluctance : he sees now that he was in error. " Sam and Cassy live with their son. I make them very happy every Saturday evening, by sending Wilkie to visit and remain with them until Monday ; but on Sun- day I see them all, as the family attend church regular- ly, and manifest the most exemplary and pious disposi- tions. " Betty and Malcy are employed by a wealthy Eng- lish lady, who, in consequence of her husband's death, will soon return to England. This lady is very humane and very good ; and I am quite sure these girls will ne- ver regret having followed her. " All the other blacks, former slaves of your uncle, conduct themselves, I am happy to say, very well in- deed. They work steadily, and live peacefully with their families. " I fiequently receive visits from one and another of THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. 177 them, and they never fail to beg me to remember them kindly and gratefully to you. " So you perceive, my dear child, God has deigned to bless the good seed you have sown here, and it is a great consolation to me, I assure you, to find that you have no cause to regret your generosity. " I come now to the saddest part of the commission with which you have charged me. I have seen Mrs. Ed- wards several times, but alas ! her condition is always the same. She will never recover her reason ; her state is a most pitiable and frightful one. She imagines herself constantly threatened by the knives of the rebel slaves, and seems to see her husband falling beneath their mur- derous blows. " Mr. Lebrun has done all that was possible for her, in leaving the ill-gotten gains of herself and husband for her support. Nothing farther remains for us but to pray that God may, before her death, permit this unfortu- nate woman at least to return to the use of reason long enough to repent of her sins. " You are happy, my dear child, in the midst of your devoted family, and in our beautiful France, which I also would be so delighted to see again. But this pleas- ure I shall never realize, as my duty calls me here. " Pray for me, my dear child, as I pray for you, and remember me kindly to all those whom you love, partic- ularly your dear uncle; and with sincere wishes for your happiness, now and forever, " Believe me your friend in Christ, "FATHER DURAND." i/8 THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. The note of Ellen McDougall inclosed in this letter was as follows : " My dear and cherished friend, not a day passes that I do not find myself, with all my heart, regretting your absence, and grieving and pining for your presence. You are more fortunate than myself, because you have that beloved friend Leonie, of whom you have so often spoken to me ; but alas ! I have no one who can take the place of my Henrietta ! But although this Made- moiselle Leonie may be so amiable and lovely, I hope you will still reserve a small place in your heart for me, your absent friend. I can not doubt this, since you have continued so faithful to your promise of writing to me often. Continue to do this, dear Henrietta, I beg you ; I am never more happy than in receiving your let- ters. " My father and mother send you a thousand loving messages, and Madame Delmont, who visits us frequent- ly, never forgets you. " Here, every body loves you, and if you should for- get us, you will prove most ungrateful : that, I am sure, can never happen. " And now, my dear Henrietta, I embrace you, as I love you, that is, from the fondest depths of my heart. "Your devoted ELLEN." EPILOGUE. DURING the summer of 1863, which I passed in Nor- mandy, I spent some time at Havre. I there became acquainted with Mrs. Johnson, a most amiable and charming person, whom I often visited, and very soon a reciprocal esteem sprang up between us. Our conversation turned one day on America, and the Southern States, Mr. Johnson being present. " If my wife would do so," he said to me, " she could give you some curious details respecting Louisiana, as she lived there several years." After some little persuasion on my part, Mrs. Johnson complied with my request, and it was from herself and her parents I heard the history I have narrated here ; Mrs. Johnson being no other than our heroine, Henrietta Lebrun. Her history struck me as being so very interesting, that I asked permission to write it out ; which was gra- ciously accorded, though Mrs. Johnson, with her usual modesty, considered it unworthy the trouble. Our read- ers, we hope, will be of a different opinion. The only change I have made in the narration, has been in the names of the characters. Mr. William Lebrun still lives, surrounded by the de- voted and affectionate care of his family, who never ISO THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER. cease to remember with gratitude the benefits he has bestowed on them. Anthony and Margaret behold all their children pros- pering and happy: Emily, like her sister, has married advantageously. Celestin is a naval officer, and, judging from appearances, his career will be a brilliant one. Henry is about becoming a partner in business with Mr. Berlin, the banker. Madame Hermier and her daughter, the latter happi- ly married and the life of her family, are still devoted to their old friends, and continue to make them an annual visit of several days. Wilkie by his persevering industry has become a pros- perous merchant, and some time ago made the voyage to France, attracted toward the country more by his affec- tion for his former mistress than by business. He has seen his benefactress, and Henrietta kindly welcomed her young protege to her home. "I am really too happy !" she remarked to me, one day. " I know I have too many blessings." " Not more than you deserve," I replied. She quick- ly tried to close my lips. "You must not try to flatter me in this way," she an- swered with a gracious but reproachful smile. " I could never have deserved the benefits God has so graciously showered on me. May He ever keep me humble and grateful!" THE CATHOLIC PREMIUM-BOOK LIBRARY. FlfiST SERIES. 8m. With Frontispiece. Beautifully Bound in Imitation Cloth, with Sides and Back in Black and Gold. PRICE PER VOLUME, 50 CENTS. Bertha ; or, The Consequences of a Fault. Captain Rougemont ; or, The Miraculous Conversion. Cassilda ; or, The Moorish Princess of Toledo. Episodes of the Commune. The Adventures of a Casket. The Better Part ; or, Scenes from Real Life. The Fisherman's Daughter. The Great-Grandmother's Secret. The Priest of Auvrigny. The Village Steeple. SECOND SERIES. 12mo. With Frontispiece. 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