KAIj or, 
 BIG THUNDER/ 
 Chief of the Anti -Renters 
 
 By Tom Shortfellovr 
 Boston, Gleason, 1845 

 
 TOE LIBRARY 
 
 fKff EKSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 Mill 
 
 OR, 
 
 BIG THUNDEE! 
 
 CHIEF OF THE 
 
 BY TOM SHORTFELLOW, 
 Author of "The Lady of the Cabin," "Evelyn of Allegne Cliff," &c. 
 
 BOSTON: 
 
 F. GLEASON, PUBLISHER, 
 
 1 1-2 TREMONT ROW. 
 
 1845.
 
 TO THE READER, 
 
 "They unto whom we shall appear tedious are in no wise injured by us, 
 because it is in their own hands to spare that labor which they are not 
 willi ig to endure." 
 
 HOOKER. 
 
 To mingle fiction with truth, doth seem almost a profanation. It seems 
 like uniting Time with Eternity weakness with power the sordid 
 thoughts of men with the immutable laws of God the low grovelings of 
 Earth with the truths of Heaven. Yet the true and/a/se are strangely 
 mingled in the Almighty hand. We find them on the same broad plat- 
 form we met them at every turn, oftentimes hand joined in hand, false- 
 hood so disguised that it seems a twin to truth. So it is permitted ; 
 for what end, God.m his Providence has not seen fit to reveal to man. 
 But that they are made to work together for ultimate good, there can be no 
 doubt. So believe of our story. If we have mingled fiction with truth in 
 the little cup we now offer, it is to show how passion may sometimes de- 
 grade a noble heart how prejudice may blindly lead a man to false con- 
 clusions; and, if persisted in, will assuredly produce unhappy results. 
 Then ; - 
 
 "For us, and for our" story, 
 "Here stooping to your clemency, 
 We beg your hearing patiently." 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 1694355
 
 MARY KALE; 
 
 OR, 
 
 BIG THUNDER; 
 
 CHIEF OF THE ANTI-RENTERS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Tis a little thing 
 
 To give a cup of water, yet its draught 
 Of cool refreshment, drained by fever'dlips, 
 May send a shock of pleasure to the soul 
 More exquisite than when nectarian juice 
 Renews the life of joy in happiest hours. 
 'Tis a little to speak some common word 
 Of comfort, which hath almost lost its use ; 
 Yet on the ear of him who thought to die 
 Unmourned, 'twill fall like choicest music. 
 
 [From the Tragedy of Ion. 
 
 "Let him not come here ! Let him beware !" These words were spoken 
 by an old man as he stood resting from his labor, leaning upon his hoe ; 
 called forth by his eye falling on a young man dressed in a gay hunts- 
 man's coat, with a gun on his shoulder, who emerged from the woods and 
 took the road at no great distance from him. "Let him not come here, or 
 I may read him a lesson that will last him for many a day to come." The 
 speaker was about tifty years of age, though his locks, bleached by expo, 
 sure, and his frame bowed by toil, spoke him older. He was. dressed in a 
 pair of coarse tow pants, a shirt of the same cloth, (though of a finer tex- 
 ture,) open at the collar, displaying a neck and chest of great strength, and 
 manly proportion. His feet and head were bare, having thrown aside' an 
 old straw hat, feeling it too heavy in the heat of his labor. He watched 
 the young man as he wound his way up a steep hill, not once taking his 
 eye from him till he disappeared within a neat little cottage standing on its 
 summit, when turning away and wiping the perspiration Irom his brow,
 
 6 MARY KALE; OB, 
 
 he muttered, (as if some other being was associated with him in his 
 thoughts,") %t he means her no good let him beware." The old man re- 
 sumed his work, though with a brow troubled, and anxiety written in every 
 line of his care-worn face ; and as he toiled on, ever and anon he would 
 turn an inquiring look in the direction of his home. 
 
 It was October, yet the weather was warm and mellow, summer having 
 taken its second flight, and as the sun went down leaving his smiles on the 
 western sky, clothing it in azure and purple, John Kale, (for that was the 
 old man's name,) having finished his hard day's work, took his way to- 
 wards his home. His step, though firm, was slow and measured, and his 
 eyes when raised from the ground, were turned in the direction of the cot- 
 tage on the hill. When he came to the garden wall that surrounded his 
 lowly dwelling, he stopped and leaned upon it, his elbows resting upon the 
 wall, and his hard bony hands supporting his head. His face was still 
 turned towards the cottage, as 'twas his greatest foe, and feared io turn his 
 back upon it. While yet he looked, his attention was attracted by the grace- 
 ful gambols of a hound at play. Its fellow was a man, and as he lay up- 
 on his back, the dog would sweep off some two or three rods, and then come 
 back again, with a yelp jump high in the air, and over the prostrate body 
 of the man, and stopping at nearly the same distance on the other side, 
 face about. With a yelp the hound came back again, and failing to clear 
 the man, was caught in his embrace, and man and dog rolled together upon 
 the sward. 
 
 "Father," said a sweet plaintive voice, and at the same time a hand was 
 laid gently upon the old man's shoulder. 
 
 "1 was thinking of thee, child," said Kale, his face losing a part of its 
 sterness as his eyes rested upon the innocent face of his daughter. 
 
 "I hope they were happy thoughts, dearest father.'* 
 
 "Mary !" said die old man in a voice that caused the girl to start and 
 drop her hand from his shoulder, "he has come back again !" 
 
 "George ?" she exclaimed, as if that name was uppermost in her thoughts, 
 her face lighting up with pleasure. 
 
 "Mr Arlin," replied Kale in the same cold and even tone. "You must 
 not see him, Mary !" 
 
 "Father !" 
 
 ''I have said it ; you must not see him! He knew from me last spring 
 that his intentions to you were anything but pleasing to me." 
 
 "Did you tell him so ?" 
 
 "Yes, did I." 
 
 "And what said he, father ?" 
 
 "He asked to know the cause of my prejudice." 
 
 "And you told him " 
 
 "What I may tell him again, if needs must be so ; but I trust he will be 
 wise, and not come between me and my duty. I hate these flirting lads 
 who look upon themselves as a few choice spirits of earth, like the patches
 
 BIG THUNDER. 7 
 
 of vegetation scattered here and there upon the bosom of a boundless des- 
 ert, drawing their life and vigor from the waste around. I hate those who 
 feel themselves too good to herd with the common herd, and yet shrink not 
 from robbing the poor man's garden of its sweetest flower. Were it left to 
 me I would rid society of them !" 
 
 ''So say the anti-rent men ; have they persuaded you to join their ranks, 
 lather?" she asked, looking him up in the face, her own expressing the 
 deepest concern. 
 
 "No, child, no ! I will not consent to wrong because wrong exists in so- 
 ciety I will not do wrong that good may come of it ; but I must feel for 
 those who work from early dawn till late at night for scarcely enough to 
 satisfy the rapacity of the lordly rent- gatherer, while their families are 
 starving at home." 
 
 "Are they to be blamed for being born rich ? The rents are their lawful 
 due." 
 
 "Was England to blame for being our mother country? Assuredly not. 
 But she must impose upon us oppressive taxes she must treat us as slaves 
 rather than men ; all lawfully done, for which, her indignant colonies most, 
 unlawfully whipped her. Who is there now to blame them for it ? Un- 
 derstand me, I do not blame men for their wealth, but for their unworthy 
 use of it I would not punish their wealth, but their vices I would have 
 them remember the injuuctions of holy writ, where much is given, much 
 is required. I would have them grateful for what they possess, and give 
 its best efforts to the wants around them, instead of oppressing the humble 
 poor." 
 
 "Your prejudice against George must spring from his station in life, as 
 you can know nothing derogatory to his character." 
 
 "I judge of him by others of his class What does he here ? If he seeks 
 a wife why does he leave his own circle in the city ? The eagle seeks not 
 to mate with the dove, nor the son of an aristocrat with a poor man's 
 daughter. He means thee false, Mary !" 
 "Father !" 
 
 "Oh, his words are fair, no doubt! Falsehood ever shows a smiling face, 
 and hypocrisy delights in oily phrases nay, not a word more. I have 
 heard enough. Let him beware how he tempts me ; it would spoil his 
 beauty to lose his ears !" 
 "I never thought you harsh till now, father." 
 
 "I am harsh only to be kind. Think you L can stand idly by and see my 
 child dishonored ?" 
 
 "Dishonored, father ! your confldence is weak in your child ! You know 
 her not !" 
 
 'Forgive me, Mary ! I know I wronged you I know you are above 
 suspicion ; but virtue will not save thee a broken heart. You must forger 
 this boy for one of your own degree ; there are not a few of them that would
 
 
 S MARY KALE; OR, 
 
 be happy with the alliance. Among the foremost stands Jerry Huss." 
 
 Kale knew not that Huss had that day plead his suit with all the elo- 
 quence he was master of, and had been dismissed without one word of en- 
 couragement, and, as he brought forward the name of the discarded knight, 
 he watched the telltale countenance of his daughter, to see how it would 
 stand with him, but not a muscle moved in her sweet face when she asked, 
 
 "Would you wed me to Jerry Huss ?" 
 
 "And why not ? He is handsome." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Brave ?" 
 
 "I grant it." 
 
 "Good ?" 
 
 "Perhaps!" 
 
 "Keenly alive to the misery around him." 
 
 "I see in his actions, more the desire of notoriety, than sympathy for the 
 oppressed. Know you of no reason why he should not wed your daughter?" 
 
 "None !" 
 "And you would have me marry him ?" 
 
 "With your consent." 
 
 "Then hear me !" she said, her eyes flashing with the indignation she 
 felt for the object of their discourse. "If ever I wed against my will if 
 ever I give my hand without my heart if ever I bind myself to a man I 
 despise so utterly as I do Jerry Huss then desert me heaven /" 
 
 "Spoken like my child !" 
 
 "I will not wed against your will, father ; neither will I be forced towed 
 against my own." 
 
 Their conversation was interrupted by an arrival extraordinary. 
 
 "Come along T : ge, come along," said a voice in broad Irish accents, 
 "hoop p p !" and over the wall came the man and his dog, "By the pow- 
 ers, Misthur Tige, Michael Flynn couldn't have done the thing betther 
 himself. And is it there ye are, Miss ?" he said, seeing Mary, uncov- 
 ering his head and bowing with marked comical gravity, "God bless yer 
 pretty face ! Ah ! yer honor, top of the evening to ye," he continued, giv- 
 ing Kale one of his side-long bows, "I hope the Lord has gin ye hilth for 
 the last half year." 
 
 "We have been pretty well, Michael " answered Mary, seeing her fath- 
 er's brow darken, "I suppose you have seen much to amuse you, since you 
 were here in the spring." ,. 
 
 "Amuse, is it ? By the powers, a devil a bit. My masthur had it all to 
 himself. There was nothin' for poor paddy to do, but black boots, dust 
 coats, squaze the bottles for a drop ov the craythur, and do the like to the 
 darlins when they come to take away the decanthurs." 
 
 "But you could enjoy the prospect at Niagara, could you not, as well as 
 your master ?" 
 
 "Is i". there where all the wathers in Ameriky rins over one mill-dam ? "
 
 BIG THUNDER. 9 
 
 "Yes," answered Mary, laughing." 
 
 "And its jist nothin' at all, at all." 
 
 "No ?" 
 
 "A divil a hit yer should see one ov the raal bogs of Ireland." 
 
 "Are they so very terrific, Michael?" 
 
 "And is it tir tirrific ye say ? May the saints defind us ! Ye wouldn't 
 terry long an, an' ye got in one, ony how." 
 
 The dog who had been playing around Kale, licking his hand, and oth- 
 erwjse trying tOsattract his notice, finding his efforts lost, turned to his more 
 gentle companion, who patted him on his head and graceful neck. 
 
 "Och, he's a swale crathur," said Michael, who felt as proud of attention 
 shown his dog as to himself. "He's as gintle and kind as a famale wo- 
 man, but 'whin he goes afthur the birds, he's as uggly as the divil, ivery 
 bit of him. Stan 1 up, Misther Tige, and shake hands with the lady up 
 yc spalpeen, and don't be afthur being modist now. Tint's right, now 
 spake'." 
 
 "Can he talk, Michael ?" 
 
 "Sure he can. Spake ye divil!" . 
 
 "Bow, wow, wow !" said the dog. 
 
 "Isn't his voice swate, Miss ?" 
 
 "Very, I should think." 
 
 "Now, Misthur Tige," continued Michael, shake hands with his honor.' ' 
 
 The dog stood upon his hind feet and presented his pjiw to Kale, who, 
 though grouty, could not show ill will towards the dog. Therefore, stoop- 
 ing, he took the delighted animal by the paw. Michael taking advantage 
 of Kale"s stooping posture, slipped a note into his daughter's hand. Mary's 
 heart told her who was the author of the note, and she fell she ought not 
 to receive it after her promise to her father ; but love and the desire to know 
 what it contained, conquered; and quickly placing the note m her bosom, 
 she disappeared within the house. 
 
 "Michael," said Kale for the first time breaking silence, now that his 
 daughter had left them. "What brings you back again?" 
 
 "Me ! and shure didn't I cum along with my masthur ?" 
 
 "Well, well ! What brought him here ?" 
 
 "A stage coach brought him, sur, with mysilf and misther Tige on the 
 top !" 
 
 "But will you tell me for what purpose he is here ?" asked Kale, sharply, 
 his patience nearly exhausted. 
 
 "Faith, an' I would yer honor, but ye see ye see" 
 
 "See what ?" 
 
 "Ye see, I don't know, yer honor." 
 
 Then tell your master from me, that if he would save himself and my 
 family much trouble, he will avoid my house. Tell him in short that we 
 don't wish to see him."
 
 10 MARY KALE : OR, 
 
 "Is it to me ye are tarkin' me that has dined in the most ginteelesc 
 kitchens in Ameriky, and would ye be afthur having me do the thing so 
 unginteel and to my own dear masthur, too? Och, ye blarney ! till him 
 yerself, an' ye will." 
 
 "I only wished to give him a word of caution," said Kale, "I should ad- 
 vise him not to get caught prowling around my house let him look to it !" 
 saying which, he 1 eft the astonished Irishman, and entered Uie house. 
 
 "Misthur Tige, did ye mind what the oulddivil sed? By the powers, did 
 he take us for a pair of Irish clpdhoppers, as we are, that we should be af- 
 thur telling our masthur the like? Och, the blackguard ! Come along, 
 Misthur Tige, an' we'll not hear any more of his blarney." 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 "I have night's cloak to hide me from their eyes ; 
 And but thou love me, let them find me here ; 
 My life were better ended by their hate, 
 Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love." 
 
 [Shakespeare. 
 
 The sun had gone to rest, and the stars came 6ut one by one, holding 
 their eternal vigil over the earth and affairs of men; and the moon came 
 up, the full round moon, casting her rays of silver-light o'er hill and dale, 
 forest and river, o'er wild pastures and waving corn, rendering the- good 
 
 town of G , a scene to delight the elfin queen. In one corner of John 
 
 Kale's garden there stood a rural arbor of lattice- work, run over with 
 creeping vines ; which however had lost their freshness, and most of their 
 leaves had gone to parts unknown. The moon-beams struggle through the 
 withered branches, lighting up the interior. There are voices within let 
 us listen. * , 
 
 "I am doing very wrong to meet you here to-night, George, but I could 
 not resist your kind letter, and the desire to see you once again, before we 
 part perhaps forever." 
 
 "Who talks of parting?" 
 
 "It is I, George ! it is inevitable; father will not consent to your visits 
 any longer." 
 
 "Fathers, always have strong hearts," said George with some bitterness, 
 "they seem tb forget now, that time has laid its chilliug hand upon their 
 affections now that the frost of old age lias extinguished the fire of youn- 
 ger years now that their blood runs sluggishly in their veins I say that
 
 BIG THUNDER. 11 
 
 they seem to forget that it ever bounded with freeer joy that a bright 
 flame once burned in their hearts, lighting their affections to one altar, and 
 one alone. And they are selfish too; they stick to their prejudices, though 
 they prove the tomb of their children's happiness." 
 
 "You mistake my father," replied Mary, "he is doing what he thinks 
 will promote my happiness. He looks upon all rich people through the 
 same coloring that infatuates the age. He believes them heartless and 
 selfish, he believes they look upon the humbler class as only fit for their 
 use ; and, though they should swear that their motives are pure, he would 
 not believe it. All this he attributes to their education. He mistrusts 
 their motives ; he doubts them all; in short, he believes your motive in 
 visiting me, any thing but good !" 
 
 The young man's eyes flashed indignantly at the charge, but overcom- 
 ing his hauteur, he mildly replied, "your father knows but little of men, or 
 he would learn not to judge of the few by the many. He would learn to 
 judge of each particular tree by its fruit; he would /see that there are some 
 though rich who would spurn a base action ; that good may come out of 
 Nazareth. I say not this in pride to laud my own virtues, but to convince 
 you that whatever my faults may be, I have none towards thee." 
 
 "I believe it !" said the lovely girl, and the thought that she must give 
 up that noble and generous heart resign the only being she ever loved, 
 perhaps forever, brought tears to her eyes, and, leaning her head upon his 
 bosom, she wept like a child. 
 
 "Do not weep, Mary," said her lover, kissing her fair forehead. "All 
 this can be got over. If your father sticks only at my wealth, it shall no 1 
 make us unhappy." 
 
 She looked up through her blinding tears incredulously into the young 
 man's face, as if not willing to guess the meaning of his word^. "I do not 
 understand you, George," she said. 
 
 "You are of infinite more value to me than my, wealth, Mary, and if I 
 must give up one or the other, I'll letgo the wealth. I'll turn farmer I'll 
 earn my bread and your's, as lowly as does himself. If he will not let me 
 raise you to my station, I'll descend to yours. Will that content him, 
 Mary ?" 
 
 "And if it contents him, it will not me. As much as I love you, George, 
 I will not consent to that extremity." 
 
 "I should do it, Mary, knowing what I did I should do it feeling as- 
 sured that I should find an ample eqnivalent in thy bright and happy smiles, 
 thy full heart of rich affection, thy true and trusting love. What is wealth 
 compared with happiness with thee ?" 
 
 "Dear George, how happy we should be ! Why, why, is it ordained oth- 
 erwise ?" 
 
 "It is not, dearest. In heaven we are united, our vows are recorded by 
 the finger of divine truth ;' and* should man dash away the cup of happiness 
 prepared for us by angels? shall a father by unceasing prejudice and un-
 
 12 MARY KALE ; OR, 
 
 tiring hate, destroy the happiness of his child? Forbid it love! In some oth- 
 er country we can be happy le^ us away let us fly 
 
 In the eagerness of his words, he had folded her to his heart; and, in 
 the happiness of the moment, she rested her head upon his manly breast, 
 forgetful of the future, forgetting all, save their mutual loves. But when 
 he counselled her to fly, she released herself from his embrace, and looking 
 him up in the face, the expression of her own lacking none of its former 
 tenderness, she asked, . 
 
 "Do you know what you are saying ? Do you in sober earnestness coun- 
 sel me to fly with you ?" 
 
 "And why not ?" replied the impassioned youth. "Shall we not have 
 the same sky over us, the same moon to light our path, the same stars to 
 watch our slumbers ? Shall we not breathe the same pure breath of heaven? 
 And the same Earth, will it not produce us food and flowers ?" 
 "Should I have my father, George ?" 
 The young man stood reproved. 
 
 "Can I leave that old man, now ; My father, the author of my being ? 
 He that has toiled early and late for my sustenance he that would lay 
 down his life as >he has spent his strength, for my happiness can I do this? 
 Can I leave my mother ? She that watched over the helpless infant and 
 guessed its wants by the instinct of its mother's bosom she that first 
 taught its infant tongue to lisp the fond names offa'.her, mother she that 
 first taught her child to listen to the teachings of that holy book, that say- 
 eth, honor thy father and mother, and listen to their counsels ? And now 
 that that mother is old, herself as helpless as was the infant that once drew 
 nourishment from her bosom now that she looks to that child, that only 
 child for her support, can it leave her to fill a childless grave ? Say, do you 
 counsel me to do this ?" 
 
 "No, Mary, no! forgive me, forgive my selfishness. But must this be 
 the end of all ?" 
 
 "For the present, yes ; at some future day when my father sees he has 
 wronged you when he sees his daughter's happiness depends upon it, he 
 may give his consent." 
 
 "But, think you his dislike of me is the only bar to his consent? Think 
 you he has no other in prospect for you ?" 
 
 "I think he would be glad to have me marry some one else, though he 
 would not force my inclinations." 
 "Has he proposed any one to you ?" 
 "Yes, to-day." 
 
 "And who is the favored man ? ( ' 
 "You will laugh Jerry Huss !" 
 "What, he that acts the bully ?" 
 "Even so !" 
 
 "I am astonished that your father should seriously think of that man. 
 It is thought he takes an active part with the Indians."
 
 BIG THUNDER. 13 
 
 "I feared it." 
 
 "It is believed it was he that applied the tar ts the Sheriff last June. 
 "My father would not believe it. He believes that Jerry Huss like him- 
 self, feels a warm sympathy for the anti-renters, but he would not believe 
 that he would join that lawless band, the terror of the country." 
 "I should like well to see him, what does he look like?" 
 "Like a man ; though I should as soon think of loving an Indian, as 
 him." 
 
 "Did he ever make you any overtures ?" 
 
 "Never till to-day. When I refused him, he left me in a passion." 
 There was a noise without like the breaking of the dry branches among 
 the vines, which caused the girl to turn pale and grasp her lover's arm. 
 
 "I can stay here no longer, George," she said, "I slipped out unobserved 
 and may be missed." 
 
 "They will not be alarmed about you, Mary." 
 
 "Indeed I can stay no longer ; but George," she continued, her voice 
 trembling with emotion, "it may be many years before we meet again; 
 you will go to your home in the city you will mingle in society, where 
 
 you will meet others more engaging, more accomplished, more ~" 
 
 "And with but half of your truthfulnes," interrupted George. "Do not 
 fear for me, Mary, judge of me by the standard in your own heart. If that 
 proves true, so believe me." Saying which, he took from his bosom a 
 small gold chain, attached to which was his miniature, and throwing it 
 over her neck he said, "keep it as a talisman, Mary." 
 
 "I have no keepsake for you George, unless it be this poor ribbon around 
 my waist." 
 
 "The very thing I would have of all others," he said, placing the ribbon 
 around his neck beneath his vest. "Nestle close to the heart that will not 
 part with thee except with life, or the loss of reason." 
 
 Scarcely had he uttered the last sentence, when the entrance to the ar- 
 bor was darkened by the presence of Kale. Stern and silently the old man 
 regarded his daughter, who cowering under his reproving glances, threw 
 herself at his feet. Kale raised her up as he said, "you have deceived me, 
 Mary." 
 
 "Forgive me, father ! it was for the last time, forgive me," and she sunk 
 sobbing on her father's bosom. 
 
 "Mr. Arlin," said Kale, his voice hoarse with passion, "this time you are 
 safe ; heware how you tempt me further ! Come, my child ;" and so they 
 parted. 
 
 George watched the retreating footsteps of Kale and his daughter till they 
 entered their humble dwelling, and turning away with a sinking heart, he 
 took the way towards his home. He had not proceeded far, when, as if by 
 enchantment a man appeared in the path before him. The moon shone 
 brightly, revealing the tall, broad outline of the man, a very giant. George 
 Arlin was not easily intimidated, and though his opponent apparently, was
 
 14 MARY KALE: OR, 
 
 greatly his superior in bodily strength, and though the place was lonely 
 and the meeting suspicions, yet he felt no alarm. He was one that 
 would willingly avoid a quarrel, however, and stepping on one side, he 
 attempted to pass on. The figure left the path in the same direction and 
 still debarred his passage. 
 
 14 Well, sir devil, or Avhoever you maybe, what want you with me ?" asked 
 George with as much calmness as he could command. ''Why do you stop 
 my path?" 
 
 The figure made no reply. 
 
 "Have you no tongue? Who are you, what your purpose? If you want 
 rr.oney, here's my purse, so let me go !" 
 "Pshaw ! I want not you money." 
 "Why do you stop me then ?" 
 "To hear you rant." 
 
 "You'll have your labor for you pains, then; for I'll not gratify you." 
 "I had one other motive, friend." 
 
 "And what might that be, friend .'" asked George, emphasizing the last 
 word. 
 
 "It might be to see which was the strongest man oh, don't be alarmed, 
 that was not it." 
 "And if it were, I fear you not." 
 
 "Don't brag, friend, when there's no occasion for it. I hate brags, 'tis a 
 sure sign of cowardice; besides, as I said before, that was not it." 
 "You are devilish provoking." 
 "There I told you, you wonld rant." 
 
 "In the name of the devil, will you tell me why you stopped me ?" 
 "Don't mention that gentleman, and I will. It was to make your ac-' 
 quaintance." 
 
 "And pray what know you of me, that you wish to make my acquain- 
 tance ?" 
 
 "Very little 'faith ; I wish to know more." 
 
 "But why do you take this extraordinary way to bring it about?" 
 "My dear friend, just put a stopper on your questions, and let me win 
 your confidence by confiding to you a little secret. You must know but 
 it is a secret, you understand ?" 
 
 "I shall make no promises of secrecy." 
 
 "But it concerns a dear and mutual friend of ours," 
 
 "Pshaw ! will you out with it ?" 
 
 "Well, you must know, then, that I have a disease of the head, which 
 
 > 
 
 "A slight weakness in the upper story, is it not sir?" interrupted George. 
 
 "I beg of you not to interrupt me, and you shall see. As I was saying, 
 I have a certain disease of the head, for which the physicians Stivise exer- 
 cise in the open air. Not wishing to disturb our good neighbors with my 
 daily rambles, I take them nightly. To-night happening to pass by a cer-
 
 BIG THUNDER. 15 
 
 tain arbor standing in the garden of neighbor Kale, I heard voices that at- 
 tracted my attention. Being a little curious to know what was going on, 
 I get close beneath the vines at the back, and listened to as pretty a I 
 beg you would'nt interrupt me " 
 
 "Go on, go on, sir." 
 
 "Well, as it won't interest you much, I'll pass over the billing and coo- 
 ing, and come to the point. In the course of the conversation they spoke 
 of a certain man by the cognomen of Huss, Jerry Huss. The gentleman 
 expressed his desire to see the aforesaid Huss ; therefore I waited your com- 
 ing, to introduce to you the bully ! He stands before you !" 
 
 ''And you overheard all that was said ?" asked George with remarkable 
 coolness. 
 
 "Every word of it," replied Huss. 
 
 "And was so kind as to wait expressly to inform me of it ?" 
 
 "Even so." 
 
 "Then take that for your pains," said George, and he dealt Jerry a blow 
 under the chin, that sent him reeling backwards. Recovering himself, 
 Huss with the ferocity of a tiger sprang at the young man's throat, while 
 one hand clutched the handle of his dagger. Quickly changing his mind, 
 however, he released the dagger, muttering, "not yet, not yet !" And with 
 the strength of a giant he threw George from him, who in his backward 
 thrust got his feet entangled with some roots of trees in his path, and fell 
 upon his back. Regaining his feet, he sprang for his adversary, but hehad 
 vanished. Disappearing in the same mysterious manner that he appeared , 
 leaving his rival to take his way home at his pleasure. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 HOR. "Have after. To what issue will this come ?" 
 MAR. "Something is rotton in the state of Denmark." 
 HOR. "Heaven will direct it." 
 
 [Hamlet Act 1st. 
 
 The lands lying in Albany, Rensselaer, Schoharie, Columbia, Montgom- 
 ery, Schenectady, Ulster, Greene, Otsego, Delaware and Sullivan Counties, 
 and in the whole State of New York, were originally granted to superior 
 grandees in large tracts or 'manors by king James 1st, for them to parcel 
 out to a tributary tenantry. Such grants were consistent with the princi- 
 ples and spirit manifested and sustained in the old world. The revolution, 
 however, wrought a radical change in the feelings of men. By the consti- 
 tution all men were declared free and equal ; the sovereign power of the
 
 16 MARY KALE : OR, 
 
 States was restored to the people themselves ; and each individual at a law- 
 ful age became a part of that sovereign power. This as before expressed, 
 wrought a healthful change the yeomanry alive to their own importance 
 began to think and act for themselves they were no longer slaves their 
 eyes were open, and the light that broke in upon their minds caused them 
 to hate and repudiate every thing that reminded them of the galling chains 
 they had contrived to throw off. It is not strange then, that the large 
 landholders, who, by joining in the revolution thus secured their estates 
 from confiscation, were looked upn by their numerous tenantry as their 
 tyrants. But they were men (for the most part, of principle men who, 
 though they asserted and maintained their equality as citizens, knew 
 themselves not to be the owners of the soil, and were content to look for- 
 ward to the day, when by dint of industry and penny-savings they should 
 have accumulated a sufficient sum to buy off their landlords. But when 
 that day came round, and they went forward as many of them did, with the 
 effects of their hard toil in their hands they were repulsed by their haugh- 
 ty landlords. This had the tendency to awaken feelings of hatred*on the 
 part of the tenantry, which time only augmented. They had other causes 
 of complaint. Many of the tenantry held leases for a stated number of 
 years ; these were taken, and the land entered under them, and a fair equiv- 
 alent in rent paid therefor; at the end of which time, the farms having 
 doubled in value, by dint of the tenant's exertions by reclaiming the 
 soil, by building fences, and erectiug houses all done by their own indus- 
 try, must consent to pay double rent, or be driven from their homes, where 
 they had wasted the best days of their existence. 
 
 And again, should the tenant by misfortune be unable to meet his bond, 
 the landlord by existing laws, can issue his own warrant under his own 
 seal and, his own exparte testimony is all that is required for him to es- 
 tablish the amount due to himself ; and all this notwithstanding the con- 
 stitution of the State guarantees to every citizen the right of trial by a ju- 
 ry of his country in all suits of law, both civil and criminal. Thus was 
 established a superiority which the unfortunate tenants ill could brook. 
 They only asked to be placed on equal grounds with their more favored 
 neighbors; and for this purpose petitioned the Legislature. 
 
 They asked for the "passage of an act repealing all laws granting spe- 
 cial privileges to Landlords in the collection of their rents, so that they 
 shall be permitted to use and enjoy the common rights of other creditors, 
 in the collection of their dues, and none other." 
 
 They further petitioned, "for the passage of an act authorizing tenants, 
 when prosecuted for rent, to set up as a defence against such prosecutions, 
 the want of a good and sufficient title to the premises in the landlord or 
 prosecutor ; and that such defence be a bar to any recovery against such 
 tenants until the title of the landlord be fully established ;^o apply in the ca- 
 
 es where lands^iave been leased for a long series of years or in perpetuity." 
 s
 
 BIG THUNDER. 19 
 
 tude of person, rising and taking advantage of the momentary pause in the 
 din around, "I motion we have a song." 
 
 "A song, a song !" was shouted by twenty voices. 
 "Who will do us the favor ?" asked the fat man. 
 
 "Tiger-tail, Tiger-tail!" shouted some; "Rattlesnake, Rattlesnake, Rat- 
 tlesnake," shouted others. 
 "Brothers !" put in the fat man. 
 
 "Oh, you be d d, old Grizzle ! You are always shoving forward that 
 precious body of yours !" said the anatomy of a man, pulling his. more gift- 
 ed neighbor by the sleeve; "Rattlesnake was the loudest called for ; let 
 him speak for himself." 
 Thus rebuked the fat man sat down. 
 
 "Rattlesnake, Rattlesnake !" was again shouted forth on all hands. 
 "Brothers," said the savage called for, standing up in his place, "I feel 
 more like biting than singing, to-night; let Grizzly Bear sing himself, if he 
 must have music. No doubt he prefers his own grow I to another's." 
 
 "I am very well contented with it, Mr. Snake, and I can bite too, if oc- 
 casion requires," said fatty, "but, as Big Thunder has not arrived, I thought 
 we might just as well make merry, so it you will pass me the bottle there, 
 I'll wet my pipe, and then give ye one of my last getting up. :> 
 
 Grizzly Bear after taking a long pull at the bottle, cleared his throat, and 
 thus commenced : 
 
 SONG. 
 
 We are a band of hearties, boys, 
 In numbers great and strong, 
 We discard all names and parties, boys, 
 To none we will belong. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 And in the wood, our homes shall be, 
 Away from law and labor free, 
 Huriah ! hurrah ! 'tis the life for me ; 
 A life without a care. 
 
 We are a band of brothers, boys, 
 
 We love each other well, 
 
 We'll share each other's woes and joys, 
 
 And in unity we'll dwell. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 For in the wood, our homes shall be, 
 Away from law and labor free, 
 Hurrah ! hurrah ! 'tis the life for me, 
 A life without a care. 
 
 The chorus was joined in, by all present, which made the old woods 
 ring again. But as deafening as were their shouts, there was another 
 voice heard above them all, rebuking them to silence. The voice was that 
 of a man, who had that moment bounded from the wood into their very 
 midst. 
 
 "Come ye here to 'make night hideous,' with your everlasting howling ?"
 
 20 MARY KALE : OR, 
 
 he asked. "Come ye here to spend the time in drunken frolicking appoint- 
 ed for necessary deliberations ? For shame ! let us have no more of it." 
 
 "We have been here near an hour ; how is it that Big ThunJer has just 
 arrived ? How has he spent the time chosen for necessary deliberations?" 
 asked Rattlesnake in a slightly sarcastic tone. 
 
 "I was necessarily detained on private business, which imports you not 
 to know. I am ready now to hear of any business that may come before 
 the meeting." Saying which, he ascended and took his seat upon the rude 
 bench before described, lacing the whole assembly. 
 
 Big Thunder was dressed more becoming the taste of an Indian, than 
 were the rest of the band. He wore a pair of drab-colored pants mocca- 
 sins of deer-skin upon his feet, but without embroidery a sort of loose sack 
 of blue cloth secured at the waist by a red sash tied tightly around his per- 
 son, the ends hanging in even folds by his side. '] he sack was thrown 
 back on his shoulders, displaying a red flannel shirt beneath, fitting closely 
 around the neck, forming a rich contrast with the dark copper color of his 
 skin upon his head he wore a crown of feathers, to constructed as to en- 
 tirely conceal his hair his face 'bore the expression of energy and decision 
 of character amply fitting him to gorern and lead the band now present. 
 Rattlesnake was first to address the meeting. 
 
 "Brothers," he said, ''I am sorry to take up any of your precious time 
 by the recital of private wrongs ; but as winter is coming, the necessity of 
 providing for my houseless family, urges me to it at this time. You most 
 of you know that by a series of misfortunes I was unable to meet my rent 
 last spring, thereby, according to the just laws of our Mate, I forfeited the 
 lease. I went to see my landlord, represented my situation to him, im- 
 plored him to let me live on as I had done, promising him for his clemency 
 not only every dollar his due, with the interest, but the thanks of a grate- 
 ful family. But no ! he knowing that he could rent it at a higher price 
 knowing that the land had doubled in value doubled by my own exer- 
 tions made rich by my own sweat poured forth in twenty years of toil 
 laughed at me ! Aye laughed ! I left him for my home, and as I drew near 
 that poor, though comfortable cabin, reared by my own h;inds, hallowed by 
 a thousand tender recollections think not meanly of me I wept like a 
 boy. There for nearly twenty years, after a hard day's toil, hard though 
 sweet when laboring for those I love, I found a resting-place for my weary 
 limbs, and as proudly as a king I slept away the still, peaceful hours of the 
 night, for it was my home, the home of my wife and children ; and as I 
 thought of this I wept. But tears brought with them stern resolves, and 1 
 swore to keep it still. I entered my cabin, collected together all my stores, 
 scarcely sufficient to fill the mouths of my wife and helpless children for a 
 month, and barred my door against the invader. But alas! in the eye of 
 the law I was a criminal they came to me in numbers, broke into my 
 castle and carried me off a prisoner."
 
 BIG THUNDER. 21 
 
 i 
 
 He paused, as if to attest the sympathy of his brethren which burst forth 
 in exclamations of dire revenge. 
 
 "My story is soon told," continued Rattlesnake. "I managed to escape 
 from my captors, regained my home, where I found my wife with her little 
 ones, in the greatest distress from my loss. As good fortune would have 
 it, I found a comfortable home for my family at the house of a friend, but 
 being proscribed myself, and fearing to be retaken, I sought, and found your 
 band." 
 
 "You did, you did," echoed from twenty voices. 
 
 "That was six months ago," continued Rattlesnake, "but I often in the 
 night steal to the spot once my ho' ic a spot made sacied by many suf- 
 ferings, as well as by the cup of domestic joy tasted to its overflow and 
 where I once labored and loved, I knelt in prayer. One night, after an ab- 
 sence of nearly two months, wandering I scarcely know whither, I came 
 upon the well-known spot of my old home but the cabin which had cost 
 me so many years to erect, was gone, giving place to the beautiful cottage 
 of a stranger it mocked my poor, isolated heart, and kneeling upon the 
 green earth, I swore revenge .'" 
 
 "And you shall have it," exclaimed Big Thunder, carried away by the 
 recital of his brother's wrongs. 
 
 ''Yes, yes ! revenge ! revenge !" rent the air from every throat. 
 
 "I thank you all, for the hearty response," said Rattlesnake and he sat 
 down. 
 
 "What business comes before the meeting next ?" asked the chief. 
 
 "So please ye," said a man rising, conspicuous only for the coat he wore, 
 which was of a bright scarlet color adorned with rows of metal buttons, "So 
 please ye, brothers, I will introduce to the meeting the fellow under my 
 charge, the deputy sheriffof Troy, arrested within our dominions this morn- 
 ing, he is getting to be a little troublesome, will Big Thunder see him now ?" 
 
 "You may bring him before us!" said the dignitary addressed. 
 
 Red-jacket disappeared, and in a few moments returned in charge of dep- 
 uty sheriff Loper, of Troy, his feet clogged with large billets of wood, and 
 his hands bound with green withes behind his back. Loper, as he con- 
 fronted Big Thunder, and looked arouud taking in the whole of that dark 
 group, encountering the fixed gaze of a hundred eyes, returned it with one of 
 hearty defiance, and in the solit ry word thai escaped his lips, "humph !" 
 might be summed up the utter contempt he felt for their whole fraternity. 
 
 "What are the charges brought against the man ?" asked the Chief. 
 
 "Brother Big Thunder," replied Red-jacket, with some elevation of per- 
 son, "I being in charge of the party which took him prisoner will answer. 
 As we were passing, (meaning myself and party) along the skirts of Rent- 
 wood forest, bordering on old Van Shaack's farm, this morning, to see if 
 all was quiet in that neighborhood, who should we meet, coming across 
 the pastures at full speed on horseback, but his son John, who, all out of 
 breath informed us that there was an officer on the road going to trouble
 
 22 MARY KALE : OR, 
 
 his father, and called on us for assistance. I just stationed my men on the 
 road, when who should come along but this feller. We very civilly stop- 
 ped his horse, and I very politely asked for his papers, which he very im- 
 politely refused to give up. We threatened him with a coat of tar, which 
 by the way he did'nt seem to care a damn about. It being very public 
 where we were, we thought it best to move him, so tying his hands to keep 
 him from scratching, and putting a blinder on his eyes, we brought him 
 along and put him in the lock-up." ^ 
 
 Red-jacket having got through with his story, sat down, leaving Loper 
 standing nearly in the centre of the circle, the red glare ot trie fire lighting 
 up his proud determined face. 
 
 "Have you any papers about your person to be served, as but now charg- 
 ed ?" asked Big Thunder, addressing the prisoner. L'oper made no reply, 
 nor by look showed that he heard the question addressed to him. "Have 
 you papers to be served on any one, within our dominion ?" again asked 
 Big Thunder. "Have you any ears, sir ? Have you no answer to our in- 
 quiries ?" 
 
 "I have no answer for thee, nor such as thee," replied the sheriff. 
 
 "We'll see to that !" 
 
 "By what authority do you interrogate me ?" haughtily demanded Loper. 
 
 "By the authority God Almighty has given to his people, and by them 
 invested in me, their chosen leader." 
 
 The answer was unnoticed by Loper, but the chief saw the scornful curl 
 of the sheriS's proud lip, which roused the sleeping tiger within him, and 
 springing to his feet, in a voice of thunder he demanded of the sheriff his 
 papers. 
 
 "My hands are bound," replied Loper, "and your ruffians can take them 
 from me if they see fit, but of my own free will, never !" 
 
 "By the Eternal ! you shall suffer for this insolence !" exclaimed Big 
 Thunder his lips pale with rage, "but, first search his person,. men." 
 
 At this command, several moved forward, Grizzly Bear at theii head, 
 upon the sheriff, who stepped back, two or three paces upon his clogs, and 
 like a cat kept his eye upon the enemy. On they came, the portly figure 
 of Grizzly Bear making a bold front. Loper waited till they were suffi- 
 ciently near, when darting forward with all his strength, he planted his 
 head in the abdomen of the unfortunate Bear, and rolled him upon his back. 
 The sheriff sprang forward with so much force that he could not recover 
 himself and coming to the end of his clogs, his feet went out from under 
 him and he fell upon his face. Before he could regain his feet, his ene- 
 mies were upon him, who proceeded to search and destroy all papers in his 
 possession. 
 
 While this was going on, the lean gentleman, who went by the tender 
 name of "Sapling" among his fellows, was bending over the prostrate body 
 of Grizzle, and condoling with him in his fallen state. 
 
 "You are always putting forward that p r cc'cv? led) f yours," he said.
 
 BIG THUNDER. 23 
 
 "You are always foremost in all great undertakings, giving your breast to 
 the storm and when, as now, by stern late you receive an ungenerous 
 blow, you are silent and complain not a happy consolation is yours, Griz- 
 zle ; you are a martyr in a glorious cause." 
 
 As the voice of a loved one has power to call back the wandering senses 
 of a fainting beauty, so revived Grizzly Bear under the sofl words of Sap- 
 py ; and, opening his eyes and receiving that sympathizing look, he straight 
 forgot the injury received in his stomach. 
 
 "Here," continued Sapling, presenting the bottle to Grizzly Bear, "take 
 a drop for thy stomach's sake." 
 
 "Thank ye," said Grizzle, after a hearty suck at the bottle, I feel better, 
 now." 
 
 "I am glad to hear it, Tigertail, bear a hand here, and help up brother 
 Grizzle." 
 
 Big Thunder, who stood by watching the progress of the search, by de- 
 grees became calm, his thoughts flowing in smoother channels. When 
 himself, uninfluenced by his bad passions, Big Thunder was possessed of 
 noble feelings, and could appreciate virtues in another. He knew, was he 
 himself deputy sheriff, he should have acted as did Loper, and the thought 
 awakened respect for the enemy he had overpowered by numbers, but not 
 conquered. Calling Rattlesnake to him, in a low voice he gave him his 
 orders. The clogs were struck off from Loper's feet, his eyes bandaged, 
 and in this manner he was conducted through the mazes of the forest for 
 near a mile, when the withes were removed from his arms. It was some 
 minutes before Loper could command his arms sufficiently to remove the 
 bandage from his eyes. On looking about him, he was in the edge of the 
 wcod that skirted the road ; the Indians had gone, but there stood his com- 
 panion of the morning his trusty horse. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 "What have I done to thee, that thou shouldst lift 
 Thy hand against me ? Wherefore wouldst thou strike 
 The heart that never wrong'd thee ?" 
 
 [From the Yemassee. 
 
 The night was far advanced, but the moon still shone from her western 
 pyre, throwing her rays of silver light across old Rentwood, just lighting 
 up the roof of Von Alstine's cottage, and pouring her full blaze into the 
 gable window where slept Michael Flynn and his faithful Tige. Still si-
 
 24 . MARY KALE : OK, 
 
 lence reigned around the house, and the myriads of stars looked down, like 
 the "Hundred-Eyed Argus," keeping watch over its sleeping inmates. 
 Sleep on while yet you may; sleep, but let thy dreams be each a prayer, a 
 prayer of the earnest heart commending its soul to God. The dog had 
 been aroused from his slumbers, and stood* by the bedside of his master, 
 and with a low whine broke the sleep of the unconscious Irishman. Mi- 
 chael, though he heard the low moan ot the dog, it was half in his dreams, 
 and he tried to forget it and sleep on. But it still sounded in his ears, and 
 losing his habitual patience, he started up in bed. 
 
 "By the powers, Misthur Tige ! it is very oncivil in ye, to be wakin' up a 
 poor divil at this time o' night, whin he'd be afthur slapin' with the hilp of 
 the blissid virgin ; it is, altogether intirely. Go to bed yer spalpeen, and 
 don't be afthur disturbin' good Christians with yer blarney." 
 
 Thus saying, he betook himself to his slumbers again. For a few min- 
 utes the dog was still, but not long; and when he took up the strain again, 
 it savored well of a growl. This was more than flesh aad blood could bear. 
 "Yer enough to make a saint swear, ye are ye divil /" cried the incensed 
 Irishman. "By all the saints, and St. Patrick to boot, I've a mind to bate 
 
 ye ; ye bogtrotter to bed wid ye, or I'll what the divil was that ? 
 
 Did ye hear ony thin' Misthur Tige ?" The dog's answer was a sharp 
 growl. "By my throth, I thought so." 
 
 Springing out of bed, Michael approached the window and looked out. 
 Dim figures were seen moving in the distant shadow of Rentwood, and as 
 he gazed, a, feeling of superstitious awe, so common to his countrymen, 
 crept over him, and chained him to the spot. Each shadow as it passed 
 before his vision, brought back some almost forgotten tale of his childhood ; 
 some tale toid by his mother, when seated by the smouldering turf fire, of 
 the spirits of another world come back to haunt, or warn us of impending 
 danger, till his feelings wrought up, pictured a ghost in every shadow cast 
 upon the floor; and the feeling then was present with him now; and the 
 low whine of the dog too, who is supposed to feel the approach of an un- 
 earthly visiter, had its own peculiar meaning, and tended none the less to 
 allay his fears. 
 
 St. Patrick defend us!" he exclaimed, crossing himself, "who iver seed 
 the like afore? Let us pray Misthur Tige; git down ye divil, and pray 
 with all yer ploody might." 
 
 The red glare of a torch borne in the hands of a man just beneath the 
 window, attracted his attention, and broke the spell. It was something 
 tangible, something he could understand, and turned his fears into another 
 channel. Quickly dressmg himself, he left his room followed by Tige, and 
 as he stepped upon the stairs, a strong scent of smoke met his senses, and 
 he could distinctly hear the sharp snapping, as of burning wood. Quick- 
 ening his steps he rushed down stairs, and into his master's room. George 
 awoke from a sound sleep, started wildly up, and asked to know the matter. 
 "An' we've got a fire here, sir !"
 
 BIG THUNDER. . 25 
 
 "A fire !" 
 
 "Yes, as shure as hell's blazes, yer honor ! on there's mony a divil all 
 all around us, ootside," he continued as George hurried on his clothes, "the 
 wood is full of them, yer honor." 
 
 "The blood-thirsty savages !" exclaimed George, catching up his gun that 
 lay by his bedside, "If they think to murder us they shall fight for it.." 
 
 Rushing into the enfry, he there encountered Von Alstine and his terri- 
 fied wife in the : r night-clothes, aroused by the outcry of Michael, and'also 
 knowing their danger from their sleeping rooms being in close proximity 
 to the fire. All for a while was confusion, disorder reigning supreme. 
 One ran here, another there, all giving orders which no one understood, 
 and the only things definite were, that they were surrounded by a gang of 
 blood-thirsty outlaws, and the housp was burning down over 'their heads. 
 But as all things most violent, soonest spend themselves, so it proved 
 now; and Mr. and Mrs. Von Alstine, as there was no immediate danger 
 from the fire, by George's advice, changed their night-dresses for others 
 more fitting to encounter the night air. The fire had been set in an ell, 
 from the back of the house, and though it raged witli violence, it had not 
 yet reached the main building. The wind .came fresh from that quarter, 
 and the flames rushed, quirling and hissing like a thousand devils, vomit- 
 ing from, their mouths like red hot missals, all light combustible matter, 
 borne on the wings off the wind. On came the devouring element, and as 
 it swept over the main roof, a loud shout from those without told it to the 
 sufferers within, who were congregated in the main entry by the outer 
 door. The flames now breaking through into their last retreat, lighting 
 the room with their lurid glare warned them that they were no longer safe. 
 Something must be done. George advised going forth and fighting their 
 way through, but was overruled by Mr. Von Alstine, who thought it best 
 to make no show of defence. 
 
 "It is by no means certain that they intend an assault upon us," he said, 
 'and by meeting them with hostile weapons, they may be forced to do 
 what they would gladly avoid." 
 
 "You do not know them, my friend !" 
 
 "What motive can they have, George ?" 
 
 "The same that led them to burn the house down over our heads, re- 
 venge !" 
 
 "I do not think they strike at our lives, besides, it would be madness to 
 contend against such odds. Let us go out then, as we should if they were 
 not here, and leave it to the moment to decide our actions." 
 
 George yielding the point, though much against his will, unbarred the 
 door and went out followed by Mr. and Mrs. Von Alstine, Michael and the 
 dog bringing up the rear. These four, not to mention the dog, were all of 
 the family present, as their only maid-servant was absent from home for 
 the night; and as they left the burning house, the loud wild whoop from 
 the Indians as they came rushing up the hill, would have struck terror to
 
 26 MARY KALE: OR, 
 
 hearts less stout than theirs. On marched the little band, Mrs Von A! - 
 stine holding her place by her husband's fide, with all that fortitude and 
 strength of mind ever calls to her aid in great emergencies, not in the least 
 trying to avoid the Indians, who when they saw that determined little 
 front, halted. The dog Tige would have rushed upon the assailants, but 
 was restrained by Michael. 
 
 "Seek ye our lives?" asked Von Alstine, the first to break the awful si- 
 lence. 
 
 "No !" was the quick reply of the Chief! 
 
 "Why then are you here ?" demanded George. / 
 
 "To enforce the laws of our realm!" replied the same voice. 
 
 "Your realm!" said George sarcastically, "how far does your Clubdom 
 extend?" 
 
 "Over all oppressed by the relentless, tyrannical Landlord" haughtily 
 replied Big Thunder. 
 
 "And to enforce your laws, is it necessary to burn down the dwellings oi 
 defenceless citizens ?" asked Von Alstine, sternly. 
 
 "It is necessary for our revenge, old man ! fiercely answered the Chief. 
 
 "Revenge becomes dogs such as thou !" retorted the old man in the same 
 tone. 
 
 "Another such a word and ye die, dotard !" 
 
 "Husband ! husband !" shrieked the now terrified woman, clinging to 
 Von Alstine's arm, ''tempt him not! tempt him not!" 
 
 "Do not fear him, Madeline !" said the old man. "Dogs that bark the 
 loudest, seldom bite !" 
 
 "Hell's furies seize thee !" vociferated Big Thunder, and the bright blade 
 glittering in the moon-beams descended with unerring aim, and Von Al- 
 stine fell a corpse. One wild shriek filled the air, and came back from the 
 woods in a hundred echoes telling the tale of double murder, and the dis- 
 tracted wife fell upon the prostrate body of her murdered husband. 
 
 So unlocked for was this tragic end, that all stood spell-bound, each held 
 by surprise; and even Big Thunder felt its power, being the first to break 
 the silence, muttering, "it cannot be helped, he would have it so." These 
 words broke the spell. 
 
 "Hell-hound, I know thee now !" shrieked George, rushing upon the 
 Chief, with no weapons, save the ten that nature gave, and with them he 
 grappled the savage by the throat. 
 
 "Die! die! die.] for the death thou hast given !" and at each emphatic 
 word he sunk his fingers deeper into the broad neck of the chief. Michael 
 darted forward to the help of his master, received a blow from a huge club 
 in the hands of Rattlesnake, which felled him senseless to the enrth. The 
 dog sharing the same fate, Big Thunder and George were left to fight their 
 battle alone ; the Indians standing around, watching the issue with a jeal- 
 ous eye. So unexpectedly was George upon his adversary, that he was 
 not prepared f6*r him ; and with superhuman strength, lent him by the
 
 BIG THUNDER. 27 
 
 avenging angel, he riveted his fingers upon the neck of the monster chief. 
 Together they reeled, and each moment the strength of the Indian grew 
 weaker and weaker, and with one last effort to free himself from his ene- 
 my, he fell. George lost not his hold, and griping still, the face of his vic- 
 tim grew purple, then black, then came the rattle in the throat preceding 
 death, and in a few moments all would have been over when an Indian 
 darted forward and buried his steel deep into the conqueror's back. His 
 hands released their hold ; he raised himself up and with the name of God 
 upon his lips fell backwards. 
 
 When we last saw deputy sheriff Loper, he was with* his horse at the 
 wood- side. Do not suppose, kind reader, that he has been standing there 
 ever since. God and the author forbid ! for the night was too keen an one, 
 to stand idly long. Loper was a man of few words, but of stirring thoughts 
 and actions; and the opposition that he met with, and the subsequent ill 
 treatment received at the hands of the disguised "anti-renter*," not only 
 made him the more thoroughly determined to do his duty, but to do what 
 he could towards breaking up their lawless band. Mounting his horse, 
 therefore, he turned towards the city. A smart ride of two hours brought 
 him to Gen. Windsor's head quarters, where were collected under arms 
 some two hundred volunteers under his command. Making known to 
 Gen. Windsor the outrage committed upon his person, and as well as he 
 was able, the place of council, the strong hold of the Indians, he urged the 
 necessity of immediate action, if he would take them without bloodshed. 
 Gen. Windsor readily consented, and long before the day dawned, at the 
 head of two hundred well-armed, well-mounted men, accompanied by 
 Loper, started for G . 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 "For love and war are twins, and both are made 
 Of stange passion, which misleads the sense, 
 And makes the feeling madness. Thus they grow, 
 The thorn and flower together, wounding oft, 
 When most seductive." 
 
 [From the Yemassee. 
 
 Michael opened his eyes with astonishment. How came he here ? How 
 was it he had been sleeping with no covering over him but the broad can- 
 opy of heaven ? Was he dreaming*? He would know and applying his 
 finger between his teeth, he gave it no very gentle bite. "Oh !" he ex- 
 claimed, with a sharp pain in his head, caused by the movement of his jaws
 
 28 
 
 MARY KALE : OR, 
 
 (to say nothing of the finger,) "Oh ! I remember now !" and he piessed his 
 hands upon his brow. He lay a moment to assure himself he was safe, 
 when he became convinced he was not alone. There was something near 
 him; something possessed of life, for he could distinctly hear its regular 
 breathing. Was it one of the Indians remaining? He would lay still and 
 see. Presently something touched his head; something damp and cold, 
 which caused a cold shudder to pass through his frame. It was most prob- 
 ably one of the anti-renters, who would despatch him if he saw returning 
 life. He hadn't long to think of his awkward situation, when something 
 like a warm, wet, fleshy substance passed over his face. There was no 
 mistaking that ; ke was too well acquainted with the flavor, scent and ap- 
 plication to mistake it. 
 
 ^ "By the powers, Misther Tige !" pxclaimed Michael, turn ing over to the 
 dog, "let me niver git oot or pargathory if I didn't thiak ye was one or 
 thim divil's own. How long have we been here Tige ? I feel mighty cool 
 like all over noo," he continued, snuggling closer to the dog. "Have thim 
 bogtrotters all cleared oot ? By St. Pathrick, the divil's shillela was hard- 
 hur nor my head, ony how. I should jist like aboot at his own ugly mug, 
 an' if I didn't bate him handsume, thin thea's no snakes in Ameriky. 
 Where's masthur, honey, and all the rist of the poor divil's ot us ? Are we 
 all dead, an' more too ? Och ! he's not the boy to rin whin his own pad- 
 dy's doon ! I'll be afthur seem' noo !" With some difficulty, benuinned as 
 he was with the cold, Michael rose to his feet, and the scene that presen- 
 ted itself, was horrible in the extreme. There lay the old man Alstine, 
 his pale rigid face turned towards heaven, as if in leave-taking of the spirit 
 that had gone; the red current of his heart's blood clotted upon his bosom, 
 while across his body lay the body of a woman, cold and stiff; in life they 
 walked together, and in death they were not parted. That one fatal step 
 reached the life of both. The scene stirred up the depths of Michael's feel- 
 ings, and the tears came to his eyes. "Don't be afthur laffin' at me, Mis- 
 thur Tige," he said, "for pon my sowl its ner a laffin' matthur, not a bit 
 of it. It's not ofthen that I cries, honey ; but some hoo I can't help it noo; 
 and if yer was a Christian dog, yer'd blubber too, ye would, ye divil," and 
 he shook the large drops from his eyes. "But here I am with my blarney, 
 whin my poor masthur's no where to be found ! Faith here's his hon- 
 or's hat, though that's not much without himself; O' he's kilt, he's kilt ! 
 and here's his spacheless blood a cryin' to me from, the ground! Och he's 
 kilt, he's kilt, an' they carried him off body and sowl! Och, that I should 
 iver come to Ameriky to see my masthur kilt and carried off before my 
 eyes, and not see a bit of it," and he threw himself on the ground beside 
 his dog. "Ah, Misthur Tige," he continued, looking his dog pityingly in 
 the face, "we are two helpless and disarted mortals, we are ; with no mas- 
 thur to take care of us ; with nobody to give us nothin' to eat, an' a clean 
 shirt to our backs; Misthur Tige, we are two poor, dear desarted mortals,
 
 BIG THUNDER. 29 
 
 we are indeed !" And covering his face with his hands, he gave way to his 
 utter feeling of loneliness. 
 
 It was early morning; and the eastern sky was again lighted up with 
 the near approach of the king of day ; and as the scene brightened, desola- 
 tion stood forth. The fire had done its work ; bnt still it sent up its dark 
 volumes of smoke, which as it ascended heavenward, grew brighter and 
 more transparent, till it tost itself, commingling with the clouds. From 
 behind the pile, like a Pho3nix from its ashes, came forth a man and ap- 
 proached the scene of murder. His face was pale and haggard, and as h* 
 stood with arms folded across his breast gazing upon the cold remains be- 
 fore him, his whole frame thook from intense inward feelings. In a few 
 minutes he became calmer, however, and inly muttered; " 'Tis nothing af- 
 ter all ! death is with us, and around us; it comes to us in infancy, boy- 
 hood, manhood and old age; why should we fear it? Why tremble to look 
 upon it ? Why move us in one form more than in another ? If it comes to 
 the infant, and steals away its early breath when sleeping upon its moth- 
 er'r lap, so noiseless in its tread, that she hears not its grim approach, but 
 looking upon her darling, fancies it sleeps still, does she tremble ? And yet 
 it is death ! If it comes to the grey-headed old man, ripe in years ;*with 
 scarce the strength of infancy laying himself down to diewhose feeble 
 breath like the expiring lamp, burns flickering on till all's consumed it 
 feeds upon ; his soul leaving its frail tenement with a tread so gentle, that 
 ye know not when Time ends, and Eternity begins; still it is death! 'tis 
 only death I look upon now." He started from his reveries and his face 
 lit tip with a proud smile as his eyes fell on a .body of mouuted men win- 
 ding their way up the hill. Approaching the road side, he awaited their 
 coming. The sun had now broke over the hills, shedding its smiles o'er 
 man and beast, making glad their hearts, after a gloomy ride of two hours 
 over a hard road. Before reaching the brow of the hill, Gen. Windsor 
 called to halt, and consulted with Loper upon the expediency of entering 
 the forest at that point, instead of half a mile further on where the Sheriff 
 was left by the Indians the preceding night. While they were discussing 
 this point, the individual that we have seen bending over the remains of 
 the unfortunate victims of the last night's murder, came slowly down the 
 hill and approached them. 
 
 "You seek Big Thunder and his men ?" he said, addressing Loper. 
 "We do. Can yoB guide us to their place of concealment ?" 
 "Truly I cannot, though report says it is somewhere in Rentwood for- 
 est," replied the stranger. 
 
 "It speaks truth, as I can testify," snid Loper, "but their exact -wherea- 
 bouts is what we would know. A man might spend a week in this inter- 
 minable wood, and still be none the wiser." 
 
 "One man, I grant ye," said the stranger, "but with your number, you 
 would soon riddle out their hiding-place ; or rather, you would easily find 
 where they sometimes hold their meetings ; but I fear you would not find
 
 30 MARY KALE : OR, 
 
 Big Thunder or his men. It is said they meet only at stated times, and 
 always in the night." 
 
 "That is unfortunate, indeed ;" said Loper, thoughtfully, 
 
 "I know not what step to pursue. If I could only secure their leader ; 
 did you ever see him?" He asked, addressing the stranger. 
 
 "1 never had that pleasure, sir." 
 
 "You sav him last night, Loper ?" said Gen. Windsor. 
 
 "Yes, but it was when he was in his kingdom come, decked out in paint 
 and feathers. I should recognize nothing but his form ; he is about this 
 man's size." 
 
 ' 1'ou do me great honor, sir ! You flatter me !" said the stranger, bow- 
 ing. 
 
 "That, is as you may think of it," replied Loper. 
 
 "Does no one guess who he is, about here?" Asked Windsor. 
 
 "We have our thoughts, sir," replied the stranger, "but we are no-wise 
 certain of any thing. It is far easier to trace their works, than them," he 
 said, pointing to the smoking ruins on the hill. 
 
 "The incarnate fiends ! is that their work ?" 
 
 "I grieve to confess it, sir; and would to God the evil stopped here; but 
 they have added murder to incendiarism !" 
 
 "What mean you ?" Asked Loper and Windsor, in a single breath. 
 
 "Follow me and you shall see !" And he led them up the hill in front of 
 the house, where wtre now collected some half-a-dozen neighbors, their fa- 
 ces expressive of the deepest sorrow and concern. 
 
 "This is sorry work, Mr. Huss," said an old man, addressing the stran- 
 ger, accompanying Loper and Windsor. 
 
 "It is, indeed !" he replied, "and calls for immediate action on the part 
 of the law. I have sympathized with them heretofore, because I believed 
 them oppressed, but when they seek to plead their cause by the spilling of 
 innocent blood, 1 have no part with them." 
 
 "Is there no way to get hold of the perpetrators of this horrid deed?" 
 asked Loper. 
 
 "I trust so in time," answered the old man, "here's a fellow, that 
 knows something of it, though all that we can get out of him is, that he 
 is a poor deserted mortal, and that the Indians have carried oil his master." 
 
 "Who is your master?" asked Loper, addressing Michael, who still sat 
 upon the grouud, his face buried in his hands. 
 
 ' "Who should it be, but his honor Misthur George Arlin, Esquire! But 
 he is kilt noo, rest his sowl ; an' the divils have carried him ofl sowl and 
 body," he continued to himself, as if thinking aloud. 
 
 "I think I have a key that will unravel a part of this mystery at least;" 
 said Huss. "It is evident that this fellow's master has shared the fate of 
 the others, which leads me to guess at the author. This George Arlin was 
 enamored of the daughter of one of my nearest neighbors, John Kale. It 
 is also known to me that the old man disapproved of his attentions ; and 
 in fact, not long since I heard the old man threaten him with the direst 
 vengeance, if lie again darkened his doors. John rJe would keep his 
 word. I merely surmise this, neighbors; nothing more." 
 
 "Would it not be well to search this Kale's house?" suggested Gen. 
 Windsor, "you may find something to strengthen your suspicions." 
 
 "Be that my task," said Loper, "while you scour the I'orest for those 
 pests of society, "Big Thunder," and his men. Mr. Huss, will you accom- 
 pany me on this disagreeable errand ?" 
 
 "I must refuse, in consideration of the feelings of Mr. Kale," said Huss. 
 "It will pain hini less to receive a visit from a stranger, than from his own 
 neighbors, besides, I have a duty to perform here, the dead must be bu- 
 ried. *-.
 
 BIG THUNDER. 31 
 
 Leaving the scene of murder with two picked men, Loper took his way 
 towards the cottage of farmer Kale. We will precede him by a few min- 
 utes, and look in upon its humble inmates. 
 
 Mary entered the room where slept her mother. She was not yet up ; 
 she was old, and her health poor at best, but this morning she looked pa- 
 ler than usual, and when her daughter approached her bed, she louked up 
 into her face, not less pale and troubled than her own, and inquired, "has 
 he returned, Mary." 
 
 "Not yet, dear mother ! but do not be alarmed, he'll come before long, 
 surely ; he may have gone to town to sell his wheat, and buy our winter 
 stores," suggested the girl, with a faint attempt at cheating her mother of 
 her too well-grounded fears. 
 
 "He never would go to the city without apprising me of his purpose, and 
 just at night too ;" sail the mother. "He never staid away from home all 
 night before ; and this horrid night ! when the Indians have been abroad, 
 to burn and destroy ! I fear the worst, Mary !" And the unhappy woman 
 buried her face in her hands, and sobbed aloud. 
 
 Mary did not dare to trust herself to reply, for she felt her voice would 
 betray her own feelings. She knew that her father sympathised greatly 
 with the Anti-renters; but he had promised her repeatedly that he would 
 engage in none of their schemes for revenge. She knew, too, that her 
 father hated the aristocratic Van Alstine with all his soul, but she believed 
 as well, that his naturally good heart would not allow him to engage in an 
 outrage like that of last night, even to revenge himself upon his deadliest 
 foe. The preceding night, when her father had led her from the arbor to 
 the house, he left her at the door without a word of explanation ; and when 
 ten o'clock came round, and he had not yet come home, a vague fear siez- 
 ed her that he might have been persuaded by their seductive arguments, to 
 join the anti-renters in their midnight revels. Her mother seemed to partake 
 of the same iear, and as the slow hours of the night, one after another pass- 
 ed away, the poor woman became almost frantic. The scene that follow- 
 ed, the burning of Van Alstine's cottage, which could be seen in the dis- 
 tance, served to excite their feelings still more fear for the husband and 
 father's safety, and pity for those deprived of house and home. They knew 
 not, alas! that they were beyond the reach of pity. Thus the long hours 
 of the night passed away, and morning came without bringing them relief. 
 Mrs. Kale had gone to bed entirely exhausted, while Mary still watched 
 axiously for her fathergs return. The morning was passing rapidly away 
 but still no father returned, and Mary, heart-sick, entered her mother's 
 room. 
 
 The good woman brightened up at the sight of her daughter, hoping she 
 had good news, but finding it to the contrary, gave way to her feelings as 
 we have described. Mary stood over her until she became more calm 
 when she said, 
 
 "We ought not to judge too harshly of father, dear mother ; he may have 
 been kept from home by some accident to himself, and still be innocent of 
 what we fear." 
 
 "God grant it may be so, and send him home in health," fervently ejac- 
 alated the old lady. There was a rap at the outer door ! "Quick, quick, 
 Mary ! it may be some one from your father !" 
 
 Mary left her mother's room for the kitchen, and there stopped a moment 
 to collect herself. The knock was repeated. Pressing her hand on her 
 heart as if to afford it strength, she opened the outer dour. 
 
 "Is Mr. Kale at home ?" asked Loper, for it was he outside with his 
 men.
 
 32 MARY KALE ; OR, 
 
 "No, sir ; he has been absent the whole night !" answered Mary, with 
 child-like simplicity. 
 
 "We feared it !" said Loper. 
 
 "What have I said !" she exclaimed, a deep pallor overspreading her face, 
 at her imprudence but it was too late now, and a faintness came over her 
 frame as she asked, "know you anything of him, sir ?" 
 
 "We have not seen him yet, lady !" answered Loper, touched hy the an- 
 guish pictured on her face, "Van Alstine " 
 
 "Yes, yes ! they have burned down his cottage ; but my father was not 
 there!" she almost shrieked, "He never could have done that he was 
 good, and never wronged any one ! He was poor, it is true but he never 
 joined the Indians! be sure he was not there, sir !" and she bowed her head 
 into her hands and sobbed like a child. 
 
 "Pray God he h.is done nothing worse !" said Loper, the drops stand- 
 ins: in his own eyes, but Mary did not hear the remark, made so low. He 
 watched the poor girl's grief with heart-felt commiseration. That fair bo- 
 som, heaving with its inward anguish that slight and delicate form, bow- 
 ed with the agony of grief, touched his very soul, and found an echo in the 
 hearts of the two men beside him. But they had a duty to perform at all 
 costs, however revolting to their feelings. ''We shall be under the neces- 
 sity of searching the house," said Loper, with an effort to command him- 
 self. 
 
 "Not for my father, for truly he is not here !" said Mary, raising her 
 eyes still swimming in tears, "Ah ! he is safe ! he is safe ! she exclaimed, 
 rushing into the arms of the old man that moment coming up at the door. 
 
 "What is the matter, Mary?" 
 
 "Do not ask me, father !" 
 
 Kale looked to Loper and his men for an explanation, but they either did 
 not understand the look, or did not choose to answer. Kale impatiently 
 asked, 
 
 "Whajt is your business here ?" 
 
 "Our business is with you, sir !" answered Loper evasively. 
 
 "Oh, doubtless ! and not finding me, you so far forgot your manhood, as 
 to frighten my daughter with your big words. Go into the house, girl," 
 he continued, lending his daughter towards the house ; but she clung to him 
 and would not be separated from him, "What's all this, Mary ?" A sob 
 was his answer, and he turned to Loper again, "Come, sir, let us hear your 
 business." 
 
 Loper hesitated. He had no doubt from what he saw, and from the fact 
 of Kale's being absent throughout the night, but that he was with the In- 
 dians ; but the graver suspicions wanted confirmation. Altogether it was 
 as embarrassing as it was painful, and he hesitated, not knowing how to 
 proceed, 
 
 "Will you tell me the object of your fisit, sir ?" again asked Kale a lit- 
 tle sharply. 
 
 "George Arlin " Loper again hesitated. 
 
 "Well, what of him?" asked the old man, his face darkening. 
 
 "He you you have had some difficulty with him !" 
 
 "None in the least, sir ! I only told him what he might expect if h 
 troubled me." 
 
 "Oh, l-uher ! do not talk so !" sobbed Mary. 
 
 'And that was " 
 
 "It does not concern you, sir !" haughtily replied Kale, "and if this is 
 your business with me " 
 
 "Then I'll come to the point." 
 
 "You'll oblige me by doing so."
 
 BIG THUNDER. 35 
 
 "I'll tell you what you already know, sir. Last night, Mr Van Alstine 
 was attacked by the Indians, and his cottage burned to the ground !" 
 
 A slight exclamation escaped the old man, and his eyes involuntarily 
 turned in the direction of the yet smoking ruins. 
 "You seem astonished at it !" 
 
 "Yes, yes ! well, what more?" eagerly asked Kale. 
 "Himselt, wife and the young man, George Alstine, murdered !" 
 "Great God !" ejaculated Kale. 
 
 Mary raised herself from her father's bosom. The vacant stare she fix- 
 ed upon Loper's face, and when she comprehended the full extent of his 
 words the wild shriek of agony that burst from her heart swallowing 
 up father, mother, selt', this world and that, that is to come in those three 
 words, "George Arlin murdered !" as she fell into her father's arms, can 
 better be imagined than described. The old man bent over his child, and 
 with earnest, pitying and endearing words, tried to recall her to conscious- 
 ness ; while Loper stood by, accusing himself of foolish rashness. 
 "You have killed her !" cried the agonized old man. 
 "Maiy, Mary ! 'tis your father that calls you do not leave him yet, or 
 his heart will break! Open your eyes, Mary, and let your old father have 
 one look of forgiveness, one word that will curse him for his folly ! Perdi- 
 tion sieze the boy ! would that he had died before he crossed my threshold ! 
 Hush! she opens her eyes!" 
 
 She did open her eyes ; and they were tearless not a diop trembled in 
 their lids her frame was weak and trembling, and she leaned upon her 
 father for support as if life and hope had departed. The old man led her 
 into the house and placing her in an old arm chair, knelt by her side. 
 
 'STake it not so to heart, Mary. You have others left to love you as he 
 never loved you have two bosoms where there is no deceit, to lean upon ; 
 two hearts that live but for your happiness, to cheer and help you on." 
 And the old man took the hand of his wife, who had risen from her bed, 
 and now knelt by her side. The kind entreaties of her parents their 
 kneeling posture, had power upon Mary bringing back some part of her 
 parental love breaking up the fountain of tears, and she wept upon her 
 mother's neck. While this afflicting scene was enacting, Loper and his 
 men were busy examining every part of the house, for anything that might 
 be found to strengthen their suspicions. First, the kitchen then the spare 
 room used only on particular occasions then the two sleeping rooms of the 
 family, all were examined every chest, trunk and draw, and even the 
 brick oven escaped not their scrutiny. Finding nothing to satisfy their 
 fears, they next ascended to the attic, by means of a ladder from the kitch- 
 en. The search here was rather more difficult ; the garret being the depos- 
 itory of all the rubbish (so to speak) of the family. Here was lumber, old 
 boxes, boots, shoes, coats and other cast off woolen garments, heaped to- 
 gether in every quarter of the place. Everything was examined, still 
 nothing discovered. The only remaining place not now searched, was the 
 3
 
 34 MARY KALE : OR, 
 
 cellar, and thither Loper directed his attention. Here as in all farm house 
 cellars, were boxes, barrels, tubs, pails and jars, setting promiscuously 
 about, some filled with family stores, others entirely empty ; all of which 
 were looked into and examined, but to no purpose. Having done every- 
 thing in his power, Loper gave up the search and was returning fo the 
 kitchen. As he came to the stairs he slept on something soft that attrac- 
 ted his attention. Stooping down, he pulled from beneath the bottom 
 stair which was raised some two or three inches from the ground, a long 
 tow irock sometimes worn by farmers in that region, the folds of which 
 protruded from beneath the step, as if purposely thrown in his way. On 
 bringing it to the light, there were several large spots of blood discovered 
 on the breast the right sleeve was also damp and clodded with blood, and 
 in a side pocket was found a dagger, unwiped since it sped on its deadly 
 errand. As thoroughly as Loper was convinced of Kale's guilt, he was 
 startled by the proofs brought to light astounded by the undeniable evi- 
 dence in his possession ; and though he ardently desired to put down this 
 spirit of rebellion, and bring the offenders to justice, yet he grieved that the 
 heaviest guilt should be found at the door of this distressed family. There 
 was but one course for him to pursue. He entered, and found the unfor- 
 tunate family more calm ; and with nerves braced to do his duty, lay be- 
 fore them the bloody evidence of Kale's guilt. As ignorant as they were 
 of its fearful meaning, it was another shock for hearts already wrung to 
 snapping. Though they bare it with little show of outward grief, except 
 the daughter ; she gave way to tears again, over a ribbon which was tied 
 around the bloody sleeve of the frock. 
 
 'Merciful father !" she cried, "it is the ribbon that I gave him when we 
 parted, and which he swore to part with only when life was gone. I gave 
 it to him hopeful of a happy morrow; little dreaming that on the morrow 
 it would come back to me dyed with his heart's blood. Oh, God ! that I 
 should live to. see it thus!" 
 
 "Be calm, my child ! It is ordained in wisdom !" said her mother, "Pray 
 God that the offender be brought to justice !" 
 
 |"You know not what you pray for, my dear madam," said Loper, "the 
 suspected murderer is " 
 
 "Who? gasped the unhappy wife, as if suspecting." 
 "Forgive me ! your husband." 
 
 Not a word escaped the poor wife's lips a faintness came over her, and 
 she sank into a chair. 
 
 "No, no, no !" shrieked Mary, catching Loper by the arm, and looking 
 him imploringly in the face, "you cannot surely mean that ! You dare not 
 look me in the face and say my father is a murderer ! That he is the mur- 
 derer of no, no ! it is too horrible to believe ! Look at him !" she said, 
 pointing to her father, who stood with his arms folded his face as pale as 
 marble, though calmer by far than his accusers looking on as he was the 
 least concerned of all. "Look at him !" she continued, "does he look like
 
 BIG THUNDER. 35 
 
 a murderer ? Say, is there blood upon his hands, or coward in his heart 1 
 Tell me by what signs ye know a murderer ! speak, speak ; oh, speak !' 
 and overcome by her emotions, she sank upon the floor beside her mother. 
 
 "Upon what are your suspicions grounded, sir?" asked Kale, with a 
 scarcely perceptible trembling of the voice. 
 
 "You being absent throughout the night the bloody frock and dagger, 
 and with it the ribbon given the unfortunate young man by your daughter, 
 at their last meeting, found in your cellar coupled with the fact that you 
 hated the young man, and on the last evening threatened him with your 
 vengeance," answered Loper, 
 
 "It wanted but this to make my cup complete !" sobbed the unhappy- 
 girl. 
 
 "How know you that I threatened him !" 
 
 "I cannot answer your interrogations, sir. At a proper tribunal, all will 
 be made to appear. It is my painful duty to arrest you, sir." 
 
 Mary had again a father ; and springing to her feet, she rushed forward 
 as if to protect him. 
 
 'You dare not do it, sir !" she shrieked," "you dare not injure a hair of 
 his head ! You dare not so offend high heaven ! I say you dare not ! Would 
 ye take from the wije her husband ? Would ye take from the child its fath- 
 er ? Would ye take from a poor family its only support ? Would ye heap 
 misery upon them through life ? Would ye, would ye do this ?" and she 
 sank at his feet, "Oh, have pity, sir some pity kneeling, I implore thee, 
 at your feet I beseech thee, spare the husband and father ! Take not our 
 life away ! have pity, and heaven will reward thee !" 
 
 "Mary !" said Kale, raising his daughterf rom the floor, "be calm ! give 
 not away to your feelings ! I confess appearances are against me, but I 
 trust, after a fair trial, I shall be acquitted. Let the scale turn as it will 
 with me, Mary, remember you have a mother still, that needs your tender- 
 est care," and,Kale led his daughter to where sat his wife, apparently un- 
 conscious of what was doing around, her, "She needs all thy love; my 
 child ;" he continued, the tears starting to his eyes, as he placed the cold 
 hand of his wife within his child's as she knelt before her, "exert thyself 
 for her sake, Mary ; and God will prosper your endeavors ! Farewell ! 
 Come, sir I am ready," and he rushed out of his hmise. 
 
 On coming upon the road, Loper encountered Gen. Windsor and his men 
 on their return from the woods. They had scoured the forest in every di- 
 rection found the last night's council-fire of the Indians, but no vestige of 
 the lawless band. Loper returned with his prisoner to Troy, not much 
 wiser than when he left, but sadder in heart.
 
 36 MARY KALE ; OR, 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 "Oh ! wherefore strike the beautiful, the young 
 So innocent, unharming? Lift the knife, 
 If need be, 'gainst the warrior; but forbear 
 The trembling woman." 
 
 [From the Yemasse. 
 
 Mary gave not away to useless sorrow, but turned all her attentions to- 
 wards making her mother comfortable. Losing no time in getting her to 
 bed again, she prepared for her a bowl of gruel, of which she partook but 
 little. She lay entirely passive : taking no notice of things heeding not 
 the kind, entreating tones of her daughter's voice, and apparently as help- 
 less as an infant. As the day wore away, her malady increased, and she 
 lay, her eyes glaring wide and fixed on vacuity her features stiff and ri- 
 gid, and the only things that told of life was a slight fluttering of her heart, 
 and her short and scarcely perceptible breathing. Mary's exertions were 
 doubled ; and with the assistance of a kind neighbor, who had called in, 
 put draughts on her feet bathed her temples rubbed her limbs with flan- 
 nel all of which wrought a salutary change, and she fell into a refreshing 
 sleep. Evening came, and still her sleep was sweet and quieting. Mrs. 
 Jones, the kind neighbor referred to, together with Mrs. Pratt, who had 
 come in to spend the night, whispered to Mary, that as her mother was 
 quiet, to leave her to their care, and seek some rest for herself. Thus im- 
 portuned, Mary left the sick room for the kitchen, and having barred the 
 outer door, and closed the board shutters to the windows, drew the old arm 
 chair in front of the fire, and threw herself nearly exhausted into it. She 
 had been up through all the previous night, and the day that followed, had 
 been one of anxious solicitude for her mother's safety ; and, now that that 
 mother was quietly sleeping, and she had no incentive for further exertions 
 to make her comfortable, she sank under the accumulated load of sorrow 
 and fatigue, and slept. 
 
 "Tired Nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep." Thou comest to the 
 weary heart, like a pitying anyel sent on a mission of mercy thou rock- 
 estit in the cradle of forgetfulness thou whisperest in its ear the names of 
 those \t loves thou bringest before its slumbering vision, the bright eyed 
 daughter, "Hope," laden with promises of future bliss thou art a heaven 
 to the weary and oppressed. Sleep bereaved one, sleep ! and for a while 
 enjoy the society of him who is gone, brought back to thee in dreams, fora 
 waking too soon will come, that will try thy plighted faith. 
 
 The door leading from the cellar slowly opened, and the dark figure of a 
 man crossed the room and stood beside the sleeping girl. There was no 
 light in the room, save what the blazing wood emitted, which fell upon his 
 dark face lit up with fiendish satisfaction, as he gazed upon the angel-like 
 countenance, and the sweet smile playing around the mouth of the dream- 
 ng giil.
 
 BIG THUNDER. 37 
 
 "No wonder that Adam fell, if his Eve was half as fair as thee; ' he 
 muttered, "No wonder that he bartered the heaven perspective, for present 
 bliss ; the heaven of her bright smiles, if they possessed half the witchery 
 playing around thy sweet lips. Sweet angel! I could find it in my heart 
 now to pity thee ! a thing so pure so slight so helpless so bereaved ; 
 and could I bring a smile like that to thy awaking dreams, I would give 
 up half my life ; to spend the residue in thy fair company ; and think it 
 cheaply won. "Ha! ha!" he laughed, as he recalled some past event. 
 Thou art silent, now, though I gaze with wanton pleasure on thy beauty 
 that little mouth curls not now in scorn, at the weak attempt to picture the 
 wild passion that burns into my very soul, and consumes my very being ! 
 Soft ! it grieves me to break thy slumbers, but it shall be with a kiss ; no 
 lover could do more. Lips take thy first" and he pressed a kissed upon 
 her lips. 
 
 "Heavens! who are you-? Where come from !" excl aimed Mary, spring 
 ing from her seat, and confronting the intruder. 
 
 "Sh h h ! a ht.le lower if you please, lady.' 1 
 
 "How come you here, sir; and why?" she again demanded. 
 
 "How? stony limits cannot hold love out," neither can wood walls ! it 
 is a secret, lady. Why I am here, it imports thee to know." 
 
 "Love ! did you say love ? Come not here with that word upon your lips, 
 which would profane the very name of love; leave it far behind, for it 
 sounds like mockery ! Hate would become them better !" 
 
 "You are severe upon me, lady !" 
 
 "No ! if you loved me, you would not seek to make me miserable !" 
 
 "I ?" 
 
 "Yes, you Jerry Huss ! You would not force yourself into my presence 
 you would not lie in wait for me at every turn, and thief-like steal what else 
 would be denied you." 
 
 "Your words grate harshly, fair one ; but they are pardoned. My pur- 
 pose was a good one in coming to you Mary ; and finding you asleep was 
 unexpected ; but being so, it was a temptation set before me too great to 
 be withstood. I kissed you. Do not curl your lip in scorn, for it but heigh- 
 tens and adds another charm to beauty already transcendant ; but hear me. 
 If you ever loved hear me. If you ever felt the passion that fires the ,soul, 
 and maddens the brain, you would pity and not deride. If you ever felt 
 love warmly nestling within your bosom ; it would rob contempt of its 
 shaft, disarm hatred of its sting, and bid the wretched live and hope on." 
 
 "I can give you no ground for hope, Mr. Huss !" said Mary, softened by 
 his show of griet, "I love another." 
 
 "But that other is no more !" 
 
 "You do well to remind me of it, for there is fear this heart will forget 
 him," and her tears started atresh. 
 
 "Yes he has gone, and therefore am I doubly bound to prove true to him. 
 He had my promise that I would marry no one but him." 
 
 "It was miserly in him to exact such a promise selfish in the extreme !'
 
 38 MARY KALE; OR, 
 
 "He did not exact it ; I gave it to him voluntarily, and no power on 
 earth shall make me break it." 
 
 "Mary" 
 
 "Not a word more, sir ; and if you would not have me hate you entire- 
 ly, leave me !" 
 
 "One moment, and I will ! I came here to convince you that I love you ; 
 and to prove it to you I will tell you what I am disposed to do. Your 
 father" 
 
 "Father, say ye ! what of him ? Have you seen him since he leit us ?" 
 
 "No ; but I know that he is in prison, and can save him." 
 
 "And will ?" she almost shrieked. 
 
 "And will." 
 
 "Bless ye, bless ye, for your kind assurance ; oh, how I have wronged 
 you !" she exclaimed, bathing his hand with her tears. "Forgive me for 
 speaking so harshly to you I did not know you then I did not know you 
 were so good forgive me !" 
 
 "I am afraid you do not know me now," thought Huss. 
 
 "And I shall have back my father ! my kind, good old father, who loves 
 me so well; and we shall be happy mother, dear mother, will be happy ; 
 oh, how happy ! and you will do all this you will give me back my fath- 
 er you that I have so vilely wronged." 
 
 "Yes, Mary, I will give you back your father " 
 
 "God reward you !" she said, smiling through her tears. 
 
 "On one condition !" 
 
 "Condition! Condition say you! Is there a condition then? Well, let 
 me hear it !" 
 
 "That you give me your hand.''' 
 
 Mary looked at him in astonishment, as if doubting her own senses. So 
 long, earnest and searching was her gaze that Huss quailed under it. 
 
 "I was looking to see if you were man or devil !" she said, "lor nothing 
 short of the evil one himself could invent a scheme so horrid. You heard 
 me affirm but now that I would not marry you, and acquiesced ; and saint 
 like raised the hope of my father's liberty; aye, and promised it, too; and 
 when I believed you, and almost saw my father stand before 'me, and 
 smiling bade God bless you ! You raised a condition; my hand, broken 
 vows and plighted faith, the barter. Oh, God ! Where sleep thy bolts of 
 retribution that he is not punished for this mockery!" and she bowed her 
 head upon her bosom, and wept. 
 
 "You will think better of this, Mary !" 
 
 "No, no ! you cannot mean so ! It is too horrid ! 'twas only said to try 
 me ! oh, sir !" she continued, kneeling at his feet, "revoke what you have 
 said remove the horrid condition stick not for the base barter do the 
 good action for the sake of good doing be generous, save the father and 
 spare the child !" 
 
 'I have not the supreme felicity to be generous, and therefore cannot
 
 BIG THUNDER. 39 
 
 grant it," said Huss, a malignant smile playing over his face, at the thought 
 th/t he should conquer. 
 
 "If you will not for my sake, for your own grant my prayer. Think 
 what must be your feelings should you suffer three human beings to die, 
 for want of succor you can give. Think ye, your victims will not appear 
 to you in the still watches of the night, when you approach, and almost see 
 eye to eye with your God, and shriek in your terrified ears the maledictions 
 that must damn you here and hereafter ? Think ye, you will escape the 
 misery of a guilty conscience, the worm that never dies? Undeceive your- 
 self! Forego this horrid condition, for your own sake and mine, and save 
 my father !" 
 
 "Why this is well ;" said Huss with savage joy, "but now I prayed to 
 thee, and for what ? Now the table has turned; pray on fair saint, and 
 know how good it is to plead in vain !" 
 "Monster !" exclaimed Mary, rising to her feet. 
 
 "Once for all ;" said Huss, his face livid with passion, "will you wed me?" 
 "I cannot, never, never!" 
 "Then he dies !" - 
 
 "Ah ! God ! spare my fa " v 
 
 There was a heavy fall upon the floor. Mrs. Jones and Mrs. Pratt rush- 
 ed out from the sick room, and found Mary in a swoon. 
 
 "La, me, what ails the gal ? she's got a fit ! where's the salts, Mrs. 
 Jones ? rub her limbs warm the poor dear thing, her troubles is too 
 much for her ! Ah, them salts is doing her good she opens her eyes la, 
 dear, how comes all this about?" 
 
 Mary sprang to her feet, and looked wildly around her, "He's gone !" she 
 said. 
 
 "Who's gone, dear ?" 
 
 "He no matter; I fainted, I believe;" she continued, placing her hand 
 upon her forehead and heart, "I am sorry to give you so much trouble. 
 How is my mother now ?" 
 
 "She still slept when we left her room, marm ;" said Mrs. Jones. 
 "I am thankful to hear it ; I trust she will be better when she awakes," 
 said Mary, entering the sick room. She found her mother awake. "How 
 do you feel now, dear mother ?" she asked, taking her hand. 
 "Better, much better, Mary !" 
 "Heaven be praised !" said the grateful girl. 
 "I have had a dream, my child!" 
 "A dream, dearest mother !" 
 
 "He is innocent, Mary ; he may suffer, but he is innocent ! I learned it 
 in my dream I saw an angel writing in a book, and did ask it shook its 
 head, and smiling said ; "All will be revealed in heaven !" I thanked the 
 angel, for I understood the smile. It was not a sad smile of pity, but a 
 happy smile that toldjne my husband was innocent. I shall die much 
 now ; do not weep, my child I know the world has had few
 
 40 MARY KALE : OR, 
 
 flowers for thee I know your path through time must be dark but you 
 are good, Mary the Lord loveth whom he chasteneth let that console 
 thee when I am gone." 
 
 "Dear, dear mother !" sohbed Mary, "do not talk thus sadly ; you will 
 live for many years to come, a guide and blessing to your child !" 
 
 "No Mary, no ! I feel death's approach, and should rejoice at it, were it 
 not for thee. I grieve to leave thee to struggle through the world alone ; 
 was he here to share with thee well, well; forgive me ! Do not weep do 
 not despajr the good always find some true friends *and remember that 
 in your journey through life, you are attended by two angels, Reward and 
 Punishment sitting upon your right shoulder, and upon your left. If you 
 do a good action, the angel on your right shoulder, writes it down, and seals 
 it up ; for what is well done is done forever. You enter at once into your 
 reward, Mary ! If you do a bad action, my child, the angel on your left 
 shoulder writes it down, but does not seal it up you have a chance for re- 
 pentance, still ; atone for your fault, and in the lone silence of your closet, 
 pour out your soul in secret truely repent and be forgiven. If you fail to 
 do this at midnight, when the world's account of rewards and punishments 
 are made up, your account is closed, and the rewarding angel weeps. 
 There is then punishment certain. Remember this, my child, and live to meet 
 the smiles of a reproving conscience. I I am going, Mary you are fad- 
 ing from my sight I feel your hand it trembles fear not bless ye 
 bless " 
 
 Her last breath was with her child. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 "It is decreed, and we must yield to fate, 
 Whose angry justice, though it threatens ruin, 
 Contempt and poverty, is all but trial 
 Of a weak woman's constancy in suffering. 
 
 FORD. 
 
 It is not necessary for our story to follow Mary through the trying scene 
 that followed ; her mother's funeral nor to picture her untiring devotion 
 to her father through this painful trial suffice it to say she bore all unmur- 
 muring. The evidence brought against Kale, was nothing positive ; but 
 circumstances were so strong that it was impossible to clear him. Kale's 
 known sympathy for the "anti-renters," had its own weight with the juror, 
 who thought it necessary to make a public example, in order to break up 
 their lawless doings. His ever manifest hate towards the young man was 
 highly pictured his threatenings on the evening of the murder, were sworn 
 
 to by Huss in extravagant language and even Michael's testimony went 
 
 
 
 *This idea is borrowed.
 
 BIG THUNDER. 41 
 
 to show that he felt revengeful towards his master. Coupled to this were 
 the facts of Kale's being from home through the night the finding of the 
 bloody frock and dagger the next morning in the cellar the ribbon tied 
 around the sleeve of the frock, recognized by Mary as given to her lover 
 the previous evening; were evidences of his guilt too strong for refutation. 
 Kale was ofiered by the Court the privilege of turning as evidence for the 
 state ; had the offer of free pardon, if he would inform against his accom- 
 plices, and give up the body of the murdered young man to his distressed 
 family. Kale persisted in his innocence, and therefore had no accomplices ; 
 he knew nothing of the young man's murder, and therefore could not give 
 up his body. The case was given to the juror, and they rendered their 
 verdict upon the broad argument laid down in holy writ, that if a man be 
 guilty in the least degree, he is guilty ot the whole. They looked upon 
 him not only as the murderer of "George Arlin, but of Von Alstine and his 
 wife. They found him guilty. 
 
 In the damp, cold cell, sat the father and child. Kale upon a straw mat- 
 rass, lying upon a rough stone slab firm in the side of the cell, and his 
 daughter seated on the only stool the place afforded. She held her father's 
 hand ; and the faint light coming through a grated window, revealed teras 
 upon the cheeks of both. It was the morning of execution. 
 
 "I thank you, father, for the assurance ;" sa : d Mary, following up the 
 onversation that had proved too painful for them both, "how horrid to be 
 branded as a felon ; to stand upon the scaffold in presence of thousands 
 who call thee murderer ; to be lauded by the evil ones, and hailed as broth- 
 er; to suffer death, and know thyself innocent. Could you not prove where 
 you were on that horrid night?" 
 
 "How could I ? The letter that informed me of your meeting with the 
 young man, also informed me if I would come alone to a certain rock (de- 
 scribed) upon the banks of the river, I should learn more of the young man's 
 intentions towards you. I know not the hand-writing, but finding the first 
 statement in the note true, I did not suspect the other. I left you, as you 
 remember at the door, and sought the place assigned. I found two men 
 there before me, strangers ; and not dreaming of treachery, I approached 
 them ; when I was seized, thrown upon the ground, my feet tied together, 
 my hands behind my back, and a bandage over my eyes. Contented with 
 what they had accomplished, my friends left me. Oh, {he agony of that 
 long night ! I suffered less for myself, than for you, my child, and your 
 mother. I knew what must be your feelings ; I knew you would watch 
 for my return the whole night, and the knowledge added fury to my 
 strength ; I wrenched upon my cords till they were into my very flesh, 
 and the blood started from my wrists; all in vain. Thus passed away the 
 night, and morning came at last, and with it my tormenters. They un- 
 bound my hands and then left me. Removing the bandage from my eyes 
 as soon as possible, I saw them making from me, toward the woods ; but 
 I could not follow them, my feet were tied ; 1 had no knife to cut the cord,
 
 42 MARY KALE : OR, 
 
 and the knot was hard and fast from the pressure I had given it in my at- 
 tempts to free myself. At length it gave way, and I was a free man; but 
 they had gained Rentwood, and eluded pursuit. Vainly searching for 
 them a whole hour, I returned home; you know the rest." 
 
 "Why did you not tell this in court, father ?" 
 
 "They would not have believed it, child ; I could prove nothing ; and 
 they would have called it a story of my invention, and thus I should be 
 called a liar as well as murderer." 
 
 "Can you not guess, who is at the bottcm of all this ?" 
 
 "I think I can, my child; Oh ! it is God's judgment upon me, to reward 
 me for my treachery towards thee." 
 
 "Do not say so, father ; you meant it all for good." 
 
 "I was blinded, Mary, to your happiness, and my good. I hated the 
 young man because he was rich, and because I thought I could detect on 
 his proud face, and in his prouder tone, a feeling of superiority over the 
 poor man's daughter, whom he would seduce. I would not listen to rea- 
 son that plead for you ; I would not hear a word; but sacrificed ray child 
 to punish him. I robbed her of happiness; I broke her heart and doomed 
 her to a long, long life of misery ! Wretch that I was ! justly am I rewar- 
 ded !" 
 
 "Father! father! do not talk so! if you love me, not a word more!" 
 sobbed the almost distracted girl. 
 
 "This is not all; besides sacrificing my child, I have killed my wife." 
 
 "No, no, no; not that! She believed you innocent, father; and dying 
 bade God bless thee !" 
 
 " 'Tis a pleasure to hear you say so, my child; and do you forgive me 
 too ? Can you forgive all that I have caused you to suffer, and all that you 
 may suffer for years to come ?" 
 
 ''If I had any thins lojorgive, I would saost freely! I have rather to 
 thank you for all you have done for me ; for your kind forbearance with 
 my many faults ; for your generous supply of my many wants; for all 
 your care ; for all Oh, God ! Your death-bell, father ! would that it knolled 
 for me !" 
 
 "You are too young to wish to die, my child ;" said Kale, kissing the 
 pale forehead of his daughter. 
 
 "They are all gone, when you have left me, that I love on earth ; who 
 should I wish to live ?" 
 
 "To see justice done your father's memory ; for be sure this hellish plot 
 will be unravelled, and men confess me innocent. Then shall my death 
 be raised another argument with the many, for the abolition of "Capital 
 Punishment !" Live my child, and the while remember that there are spir- 
 its in the other world, looking down upon tieir lone child in this, with the 
 care of gurdian angels; and let the thought purify thy life, and strengthen 
 thy resolves ! The jailer comes ! bear up, my child ; 'twill soon be over. 
 
 "Your time has come," he said.
 
 BIG THUNDER. 43 
 
 "I am prepared ; lead on ! Lean on my arm, Mary ;" he whispered to 
 his child, "be calm, and let the gapeing multitude see, that we can suffer 
 without a murmur." 
 
 At the door they were received by the Sheriff and officers in attendance, 
 and wiih solemn tread marched towards the scaffold. It was erected in 
 the yard, a short distance from the jail door. A line of soldiers were drawn 
 up on either side of the passage leading to the gallow.s, to guard the priso- 
 ner, as it was rumored that Big Thunder and his band, intended to rescue 
 him. Beyond was the multitude, sweeping from the very foot of the gal- 
 lows out into the distance, filling the whole yard and streets beyond; a 
 vast multitude thousands and thousands, collected, to witness the Law's 
 revenge. 
 
 With becoming fortitude, Mary supported herself till she came to the ou- 
 ter door and looked out upon that vast assembly. One face she singled 
 out among all the rest ; one eye met hers, which exultingly seemed to say 
 "now havs I conquered ! nowjare you mine!" Jerry Hussjjstood directly be- 
 neath the scaffoW. With swimming eyes she turne^ away, "Oh, God ! 
 support me ! I can go no farther," she sobbed, and would have sunk to the 
 floor had not her father caught her in his arms, and folded her to his breast. 
 "Father in Heaven !" exclaimed the old man, ''temper the mind to the 
 shorn lamb ! Be thou her support thro 5 * this trying scen^ ; and when I am 
 gone, shelter her Lord, beneath thy wing." And he pressed her to his bo- 
 som as he would enshrine her within his heart. "God I thank the for 
 this ! She will not see her father die !" 
 
 Mary had fallen into one of those moods noticed before, when wrought 
 up to such a pitch by suffering, that it held supreme control over all her 
 other faculties, and suffering, still she knew it not. 
 
 "What shall I do with her ?" cried the agonized old man, "what will 
 become of her when I am gone ? Who will give shelter to a murderer's 
 child ?" 
 
 "I will provide for her!" said an old gentleman, who had witnessed the 
 scene; almost choking with emotion. 
 
 Kale regarded the strangers benevolent countenance for a ft'V moments 
 in silence, trying to guess where he had seen it before. "At the trial!" he 
 said, as if thinking aloud. 
 
 "Yes, at the trial !" said the stranger as divining his thoughts, '^will youi 
 give your daughter to me ?" 
 "Are you a father ?" 
 
 "I was once !" answered the stranger, his voice trembling with emotion. 
 "You want a child, and my child a father ! Take her, and God bless ye ! 
 Farewell, Mary !" and giving her one lingering, fervent kiss upon her brow 
 as if his whole soul was poured out with it, he placed her in the arms of 
 the stranger. "No shaft can reach me now !" he said, and with a firm 
 step he walked between the files of soldiers, up the steps, and stood upon 
 the scafiold, eye to eye with the multitude. As he gazed down upon the
 
 44 MARY KALE : OR, 
 
 vast sea of human taces upturned towards' him, his soul almost sickened 
 within him. "What come they to see?" he asked himself, "the old and 
 the young are here ; young men and maidens, the good man, and the Vil- 
 lain, all are here ; all mingling together for one object, for one end ; What? 
 To witness a lawful murder. Well, look on ; look your fill ; aye, glut 
 your eyes with my dying struggles ; and then go home, and before you re- 
 tire to rest, thank God you are no murderer !" 
 
 "Shall I pray with you, my son ?" said the clergyman who had followed 
 Kale upon the scaffold. 
 
 "I have no fear for the future, sir, and as the part I play in this affair is 
 more painful to me that it would seem to be, to the thousands that have 
 come here to witness, you will pardon me if I decline your kind offer." 
 I would end this farce as soon as possible. I am ready !" 
 
 The old man knelt down, and as the Hangman stepped forward to draw 
 the white cap over his face, to shut out the light of day forever, the still- 
 ness that reigned over that vast multitude was almost startling. Through 
 its length and breadth, all was hushed, like the awful pause in nature, e'er 
 the loud' thunder rolls. Hark ! a sound breaks on the ear from the distant 
 street ; nearer and more near it comes, and sweeping over that startled 
 crowd to the kneeling man a herald of mercy ! "Stay the execution ! stay 
 the execution !" 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 "What may this mean, 
 
 That thou, dead corse, again, in complete steel, 
 Revisit'st thus the glimpses of the moon, 
 Making night hideous; and we fools of nature, 
 So horridly to shake our disposition, 
 With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls? 
 Say, why is this ? wherefore ? what should we do ?" 
 
 [Shakespeare. 
 
 Our readers will excuse us if we go back some fourteen hours in time, 
 and take them into the midst of the large field stretching from John Kale's 
 humble ^md now deserted) house to the Rentwood forest, and from the 
 public highway to the Hudson, where was seated two figures. One was 
 seated upon a pile of loose stones thrown together, the other crouched on 
 the ground at his side. The moon had entered a cloud, so it was impos- 
 sible to discover if they were white or black; but if we listen we shall 
 know them. 
 
 "Och ! its no use Misthur Tige ; we might sarch from noo till {Christ- 
 mas, an' be noon the wiser, a'tall a'tall," said he, sitting upon the pile ot 
 stones. "Sure he has taken his precious boody along wid him ; and here 
 we have bin kilt a hoondheed times, an' ivery time warser thin the tother,
 
 BIG THUNDER. 45 
 
 for kis blissid sake. Hive'nt I warked througli all the woods and bogs 
 hereabouts, all bekase the ould jintleman offered a thousand dollars lor his 
 boody, bating the love I bear himslt? Och, I'm not the boy to complain, 
 misthurTige; but jisttellme the use ov this, onyhow? Oh-ho-ho-ho ! 
 its nation could ;" he continued, drawing an old blanket closer around him, 
 and taking from the skirt-pocket of his coat a bottle which he applied to 
 his mouth, and relinquished with a hearty smack of the lips. "Upon my 
 sowl its the raal crathur ; May the blissid virgin keep a jinerous supply of 
 the like. list taste it, misther Tige ! An' is it you that turns away, afthur 
 the example I've sit these four ,ears? Well, by the powers ye don't knew 
 what is good, an' its Michael Flynn that tills ye so, ye divil; mind that. 
 Och, its himself that will dhrink for us both, and not wink. "Here's suc- 
 cess to all yer undertakings, misthur Tige ; an' may ye niver want for a 
 frind to take all unplisint jobs like the prisint, off yer hands." Here he 
 took another hearty pull at the bottle. "Ahem ! it jist touches the right 
 spot," he said, replacing the bottle in his coat pocket. "Come misthur 
 Tige, we might jist as will give it up, and jog aloong; for I feels nation 
 tired and hungry, like ; and I shant be afthar ateing the brid I have with 
 me till we gets into a warmer coonthry." Saying which, pulling the blan- 
 ket still closer around him, to protect his body as much as possible from 
 the keen night wind, he resumed his walk. His course lay towards the 
 river, in order to gain the more even ground, as he proposed to pass by 
 the Kale Cottage on his route. "Come misthur Tige, jist go ahid wid ye, 
 an' if ye fall intoo ony bog*hools, spake an' tell us ov it, an' its Michael 
 Flynn that will pull ye oot. Och ! its as dark as pargathory, ivery bit." 
 In ihis way making himself as agreeable as possible, he pursued his way 
 as well as the ground and darkness would permit. Sometimes he would 
 run against a stray stone, at others step into a deep hole, which wonld on- 
 ly cause him to exclaim, "by the powers! Och, its the divil's own hool !' 
 And he would pursue his way as fast as before, for he had a notion to be in 
 the City on the next morning to witness the execution of his master's mur- 
 derer. He had nearly reached the path which he knew lay along the riv- 
 er, when he was startled by a bright light upon the ground directly before 
 him. "The good Lord defind us ! By St. Dennis, St. Patrick, an' all the 
 rist of the dead an' gone Saints, I charge you to leave me ! Away with ye, 
 an' don't be afthur leading off a good thrue Christian to dim his sowl ! I 
 knows what ye be Jack-o-lanthurn, an' I'm not to be taken in by ye ! Och 
 don't be afthur spaking to him in that unchristian manner, misthur Tige," 
 he said to his dog, who sprang towards the light with a sharp bark. "It'le 
 not understand ye, a'tall-a'tall ! May-be it will tempt ye into some ould 
 church-yard, ye divil, so jist be civil to it. Though faith I would'nt mind 
 it much, if it would only lead me to my masthur." As Michael began to 
 oe a little accustomed to the glaring object before him, it lost its potency; 
 and, what at first appeared to his startled senses, a very ignis fatuus, the 
 horror of his countrymen, now appeared but a fainf light scarcely percep-
 
 46 MARY KALE ; OR, 
 
 tible, enlivened by innumerable fiery sparks shooting up into the darkness. 
 "By the powers !" he exclaimed, "an 1 its only a fire, afthur all ; it glared 
 like a sarpint at fivst, though. Come along misthur Tige, we'll have a bit 
 of a warmin', ony how." Thus saying he walked up to the light, when his 
 astonishment broke forth again. "Och ! an' the divil of a fire is it afthur 
 all ; but a living volcanoo, as I live ! Whoiver heard of the like in York ? 
 Here's a discivery for ye, Misthur Tige ; red hot fire comin' ootofthe 
 grooned. By the powers, there's somebody here ! hold on a bit till I see !" 
 Voices were heard coming in the direction of the river ; and, Mishael giv- 
 ing a low word to his dog, which it understood for silence, crept to the verge 
 of the bank where it made a bold leap of some thirty feet to the water be- 
 low. Upon a shelf of projecting rock nearly at the water's level, stood two 
 men whose voices had attracted Michael's attention. One of them held a 
 lighted torch, which sent its lurid glare far out on the river. 
 
 "Come along cap'en," said he with the torch, "and let the critter alone. 
 It's getting to be d m cold here." 
 
 "Yes, and its time we were off, if we think to see the old fellow swing 
 to-morrow," said his companion. 
 
 "Ha, ha, ha '."laughed the man addressed as 'captain,' coming out from 
 (what appeared) the solid rock, "he's got a little fire in him yet ; though I 
 reckon when we visit him again, it will burn rather low." 
 
 The trio entered a boat standing alongside, turned it down the river ; 
 and was soon lost to sight in the distance. 
 
 "I should jist like to know a wee bit, where thim divils come from!" 
 said Michael, peering down into the darkness, "an' what they was doin' 
 there, ony how." As his eyes became accustomed to the darkness, he 
 thought he could discern the rock, on which the three stood that had just 
 left him. "Can ye tell a feller hoo to git doon there misthur Tige ? Way 
 doon there on that rock," he said, pointing to the desired spot. Tige un- 
 derstanding, left his master and took his way down the bank of the river, 
 which gradually fell away and at no great distance sloped to the water's 
 edge. A plunge in the water followed the dogs departure ; and in a few 
 minutes, his quick paddling was heard in the river beneath. 
 
 "An' is that the way ye tell me to get there ? by the powers, honey, I 
 can't swim !" 
 
 Tige sprang upon the rock, and lustily shook the water from his sides. 
 "Och, yer laffin' at me! yer an ongrateful dog, ye are, and by the hilp 
 of the bllssid virgin, I'll be even wid ye yer divil." 
 
 Elated with the new idea that had entered his brain, Michael started to 
 his feet; and, removing the blanket from his shoulders, tore it into strips, 
 which he tied together, and fastening one end of his new invention to a 
 shrub growing on the bank, he let himself down upon the rock, beside his 
 dog. 
 
 "Here I am misthur Tige, ivey bit oy me, an' not a hair wet on my head
 
 BIG- THUNDER. 47 
 
 ither. By the powers, its mighty dark up there, and hoo to git back that, 
 same way, bothers my noddle." 
 
 Michael began now to look about him. He found himself at the mouth 
 of a cave, the extent of which his eyes could not reach. He entered. A 
 large fire burned in a rude stone chimney, built to convey the smoke to the 
 world above, lighting up the place with an unnatural glare, casting grim 
 shadows from the projecting rocks far into the distance, dark and forebo- 
 ding. A cold chill ran through Michael'* blood, and a feeling of awe crept 
 over him as he gazed, with nothing to relieve the eye but impenetrable 
 darkness. 
 
 "This must be another pargathory; for by the powers, 'tis mighty like 
 one. May the Lord dehnd us, if it is!" he said, crossing himself. "What 
 the matthur wid ye misthur Tige? What have ye found ye divil?" he said to 
 his dog, who had wandered from him, and now came bounding back with 
 manifestations of delight, and then started off again. Taking from the 
 fire a burning pine kot, Michael followed, and a few steps brought him 
 upon the body of a man apparently lifeless, lying at full length on a pile of 
 coarse straw. Approaching him he held the torch to his face. 
 
 "By all the dead an' gone Saints, 'tia my masthur, or his blissid ghost ! 
 masthur, yer honor, is it yerself that's here ? if it is, spake an' tell us ov 
 it, an' by the powers I'll dance an Irish jig on the top ov my head, for joy. 
 Get out of the way lige, an' don't be afthur lickin' his honor's face wid 
 yer dim nasty mouth ; oot of the way, an' let me be afthur seein' if there's 
 ony blissid life in himsilf." 
 
 Michael placed his hand upon his face, and thought he could perceive a 
 little warmth. Thus encouraged, he brought forth the well known bottle 
 of the "raal crathur," the sight of which never failed to raise a sparkle in 
 his own eyes. 
 
 "Ah ! by the powers, this would bring a saint back to life !" he said, 
 while he forced some portion of the precious liquor into the unlortunate 
 man's mouth. The spirit worked itself through his frame, and like the 
 subtle essense of life made itself felt in every nerve. In a few mTnutes, 
 Michael had the satisfaction of seeing his master open his eyes. 
 "Tol de rol, de rol, de rol, 
 Tol de rol, de ra re rary." 
 
 Sang Michael, dancing and capering for joy. Tige ran barking after 
 him, making the whole arch ring with his heavy voice. "That's right 
 shout ye divil, an' niver leave off dancin' as long as ye live; our masthur's 
 alive and kickin' ; Tol de rol, re rary." Having shook off his excess of 
 joy, Michael returned to his master. 
 
 "Is that you Michael ?" he asked in a feeble voice. 
 
 "Me? to be sure it is, your honor, ivery bit of me; ready to die or live 
 in your blissid honor's service." 
 
 "How came you here, Michael ?" 
 "I didn't came, yer honor, I lit myself down wid my ould blanket.
 
 48 MARY KALE : OR, 
 
 "I am almost famished, for the want of food, cannot you procure me 
 some ?" 
 
 'Food is it, yer honor? By the powers havn't I as dainty a piece ofbrid 
 as the sowl could wish ? There it is yer honor, an' a bit of fish too, though 
 I suppose yer honor won't ate that ?" 
 
 "Anything, Michael, anything ; only to stop this knawing that is con- 
 suming my vitals. But first liberate my arms ; they have been bound in 
 this position nearly a month." 
 
 "God hilp yer honor, an' forgive me for not seein' it afore," said Mi- 
 chael, taking a knife from the receptacle of all his effects, and cutting the 
 cord around his master's wrist, which was attached to a short rope made 
 fast to a ring in the wall. 
 
 "I believe I have lost the use of my arms entirely ! Rub them, Michael, 
 rub them hard ! There is no feeling in them ! There, that will do ; they 
 will gradually come to themselves; I need food more than i need my arms. 
 I hav'nt tasted food for three whole days." 
 
 "May they niver have ony thin' to ate as long as they live, the divils ! 
 May they be starved in this world, an' the nixt, all togither intirely !" said 
 Michael, in honest indignation at his master's ill treatment. "Thin yer 
 honor mus'nt ate a great dale; here," he continued turning some of the 
 contents of his bottle upon a small piece of bread. "Ate that yer honor !" 
 and he placed a portion of it in his master's mouth. "Yer honor mus'nt 
 ate too fast ; it isVit according to the doctor's book, at all a'tall ; it distracts 
 the stomach, yer honor;" here he put another piece of the bread into the 
 mouth of the famishing man; and so on, mite after mite, till the stock was 
 exhausted he had allotted him. 
 
 "Och ! it's as good as grace to sore eves, to see yer honor. We thought 
 ye was kilt, sure." 
 
 "The olow I received," said George, his voice made a little stronger, 
 though he spoke now with difficulty, "was slight. It was merely a flesh 
 wound. It deprived me of my senses at the time, it is true ; but I soon 
 came tounyself again, though very weak with the loss of blood. I was 
 brought to this place, and my wounds dressed as well as their little know- 
 ledge and limited means would allow. As my wound began to heal and 
 my strength to return, thinking I might be troublesome, they bound and 
 secured me to the wall as you found me. Otherwise, with the exception 
 of their abusive remarks, they used me kindly. About a fortnight since 
 their conduct changed towards me. My food was served out to me in quan- 
 tities growing smaller and smaller, each successive day, until it was redu- 
 ced to a mere morsel; and, as the bully chief brought it to me, and put it 
 in my mouth, a fiendish joy would light his devil's face, and he would 
 smile to see my greedy mastication, and linger in hopes I would plead for 
 more ; but I did not. No ! thank God, I did not ! I had strength to suffer 
 through, and not kneel to him. At length they cut me off entirely, and for 
 three days I have not tasted food. They brought me here ; dressed my
 
 BIG THUNDER. 49 
 
 wounds; gave me back to life, only that T might die a lingering death by 
 starvation. Oh ! the misery of the last three days ! A hundred deaths 
 could not embody the sufferings crowded into that space and endured by 
 me alone. But [ am free again; and will forth to meet " 
 
 "Stop, stop, yer honor ! Ye hiv'nt strength to git up yet, at all a'tall !" 
 
 "I believe I hav'nt, Michael; the thought of the misery I had suffered, 
 fired my soul beyond my strength. I will keep quiet for a while, for the 
 greatest object I have to live for is to give him a slight taste of what I have 
 suffered." 
 
 'The greatest 7 Yer honor forgits the gal." 
 
 "Only for the moment ! How is she, Michael ?" 
 
 "Och ! she is very poorly, yer honor ! How the little darlint cried and 
 took on, at the ould jintleman's trial ! I'm shure they all " 
 
 "Trial !" interrupted George, what do you mean ? What trial?" 
 
 "Och ! may the divil rin away wid them all, for that same ! And he is 
 innocent afthur all ; he is innocent !" 
 
 "Will you explain yourself, Michael ?" 
 
 "Explain is it? By the powers, I believe it is explained now, yer honor. 
 Och ! the poor darlint's father !" 
 
 "Weil, what of him ?" 
 
 "He's going to be hanged for kiltin' yer honor's self, and all the rest of 
 ye, an' here ye are alive and kickin' !" 
 
 "Hanged! Where? when, when, Michael?" 
 
 "To-morrow morning, yer honor, at Troy." 
 
 "Great God ! What are the proofs against him ?" 
 
 Michael went on in his own circumlocutious manner, to inform his mas- 
 ter of all he knew in the matter ; and little as it was, it was sufficient to 
 let George into the secret. 
 
 "The fiend," he exclaimed, springing to his feet with strength lent him 
 from the power and energy of his mind and purpose. "This must be pre- 
 vented. A bloody frock and dagger found in his cellar, say you ?" 
 
 "Yes, yer honor." 
 
 "This must be looked into ;" and he rushed to the mouth of the cave. 
 
 "Yes, yer honor ; but how's yer honor goin' to git away ?" asked Mi- 
 chael a little puzzled. 
 
 "The same way you came." 
 
 Michael felt for the fragments of his blanket against the rock. "By the 
 powers !" he said, if yer honor climbs this ; yer bate the divil, whin he tried 
 to climb back to Heaven, ony how." 
 
 "It will be a hard matter, I know," said George despondingly ; "is there 
 no boat, here ?" 
 
 "A drvil a bit, yer honor ; they took it away wid &em." 
 "Then we must try t ...nbing;" and suiting the acti 
 
 action to the word,
 
 50 MARY KALE : OR, 
 
 George grappled the rope: but with all the strength he could throw into 
 his arms he could not raise his body from the firm rock on which he stood. 
 He had forgotten in his zeal to getaway, thathis arms were almost palsied. 
 
 "Good God !" he exclaimed, "this is indeed unfortunate. "What's to be 
 done? Our only chance of getting off is now by some passing boat in the 
 morning, when it will be too late to save him. This is horrible ! What 
 must she not have suffered ; how keen her suffering now! To-morrow 
 she will be fatherless, motherless, friendless ; and he, that is the cause of 
 all this ; God knows the innocent cause, who should be near to cheer, help 
 and sustain, perhaps to save, is prevented by blind fate. Crael, cruel ne- 
 cessity !" and retracing his steps, he crouched upon the earth beside the fire; 
 and, shattered as he was by sickness, weak with long fasting, sore with 
 disappointment, agonized with the thought of Mary's suffering, it is no : 
 wonder that he gave way to his feelings and wept. He did not falter long, 
 however, but springing to his feet, exclaiming, "I'll know the extent of 
 this infernal hole ! I'll know if there's no chance of escape !" And seiz- 
 ing a flaming pine knot, he proceeded to explore his subterranean prison. 
 Upon the left he came upon a narrow opening leading out from the main 
 hall, which he entered. 
 
 "Where's yer blissed honor goin'?" asked Michael, a little alarmed at 
 the dark prospect before them. 
 
 "George did not answer, but pushed on, leaving the Irishman the dread- 
 ful alternative of remaining alone if he did not choose to follow. He there- 
 fore, took up the line of march, his faithful Tige, bringing up the rear. 
 For some hundred yards they pursued their way uninterrupted, Avhen the 
 subterranean suddenly narrowed, and there was scarcely breadth between 
 the rugged walls, sufficient for a man to squeeze himself through. 
 
 "By the powers, this must be the divil's own hole ! Shure yer honor's 
 not goin' in there," exclaimed Michael, struck all aback. 
 
 George was through, however, and Michael was obliged to follow. Get- 
 ting upon the other side it was better doing again ; though their progress 
 was occasionally interrupted by rocks projecting from side to side as if to 
 strengthen the masonry of the whole. These they were obliged either to 
 crawl under or overleap. In this manner they pursued their way, to them 
 almost an immeasurable distance, the channel growing narrower, and less 
 lofty until it terminated altogether. 
 
 "Destruction'!" exclaimed George, breaking silence for the first time since 
 he entered the gloomy vault, "here's an end to hope in this direction ; we' 
 have only io retrace our steps Michael ; and that speedily. I was almost 
 sure this would lead us out," he continued bringing his torch-light to bear 
 upon the terminating wall, when its singular appearance attracted his at- 
 tention. It was formed by a series of stones, one piled upon the other, to 
 appearance entirely disconnected. 
 
 "Nature never formed this work," he said, taking hold of a stone, and
 
 BIG THUNDER. 51 
 
 applying to it all the strength he was master of; it fell out and from him 
 with a loud crash. So quick was it done, and so unexpected was the re- 
 sult, that George almost started from his feet ; and Michael invoked the 
 aid of the saints for their mutual protection. It was but a moment that 
 George hesitated, and thrusting the lighted knot through the aperture, 
 looked in. 
 
 "We are in a habitable world at all events,'! said George, getting through 
 the hote he had made ; "here are boxes, tubs and barrels ; earthen jars and 
 iron pots in all quantities ; come along in, Michael ; what-do you fear ?" 
 
 "Och, yer honor," said Michael, entering and looking tremblingly about 
 him, "shure we've bin through pargathory an' landed in the divil's own 
 kitchen." 
 
 "What matters it if we are ? here's a flight of stairs that will take us up 
 to earth," said George mounting the steps, which brought him upon well- 
 known grounds. "Do you know where you are .Michael?" he asked, a 
 smile lighting up his wane face. 
 
 "By the powers !" exclaimed Michael, looking in astonishment about 
 him, ''if this arnt Misthur Kale's house, thin I must be dreaming, sure." 
 
 "Now can I account for Loper's finding the bloody dress in his cellar ; 
 now can I see through this hellish plot ! Come, sir, we must be in Troy 
 tomorrow, before the morning is three hours old." 
 
 "What twinty miles, yer honor ! Ye'll niver he able to walk it, at all 
 a'tall." 
 
 "Never fear for me ; I am quite strong again."
 
 62 MARY KALE: OR, 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 "And now I will unclasp a secret book, 
 And to your quick-conceiving discontents, 
 I'll read you matter deep and dangerous." 
 
 [Shakspeare. 
 
 "Stay the execution ! stay the execution !" and the crowd giving away, 
 George Arlin pale and haggard rushed to the foot of the gallows. That 
 welcomed sound, like the "last trump" waking up the dead, recalled the 
 wandering senses of the sorrowing girl, and shrieking her lover's name, 
 she sprang into his arms. , 
 
 "Great God ! my son, my son !" exclaimed the benevolent stranger, who 
 had promised Kale protection to his child. My boy has returned ! My boy 
 has retnrned !" and the old man would have rushed in to his son's arms also, 
 had they not been preoccupied. 
 
 "Yes, by the powers, ivery bit ov him, and more too ; an' I found him, 
 yer honor, I found him," said Michael, his thoughts running on the prom- 
 ised reward. 
 
 And he that but now stood on the brink of the grave he that had set- 
 tled up his account with time and things, and prepared himself to meet the 
 dreaded and uncertain future he that had knelt before that vast assembly 
 of his own countrymen, their hearts set in bitter judgment against him, 
 now stood proudly up; for he felt that bod in his wisdom would shape his 
 ends according to justice and mercy; that new light would show itself in 
 the horizon proudly, for he felt that the stain resting upon his name would 
 be wiped away; and, when he looked down upon his child, that slight in- 
 nocent being, so fearfully tried, so wofully bereaved, in her lover's arms, 
 and reflected that not only he had been given back to her, but most 
 probably her father; tears of joy coursed themselves down his furrowed 
 cheek. 
 
 What can we say of Jerry Huss? How picture his jealoas rage at be- 
 holding his victim in the arms of his favored rival ? How give expression 
 to his disappointment at beholding the fabric he had reared tumble to the 
 dust ? With exulting joy he had witnessed her lover's overthrow, followed 
 ber father to the scaffold; and, prophetically he looked to the time, when, 
 bereft of father, mother, lover when denied by friends who would have no 
 sympathy for a murderer's child when rejected by hurranity, driven into 
 the strepts a houseless, homeless wanderer ; a starving outcast ; she would 
 joy to find protection even in the arms of Jerry Huss. So had he calcula- 
 ted, so hoped, only to be disappointed. Stung to the soul, he grasped the
 
 BIG THUNDER. 53 
 
 handle of a sharp pointed dagger in his bosom, and started forward with 
 bloody intent ; but, the dense crowd collected around the united hearts, 
 barred his progress, and for the moment staid his purpose. Releasing his 
 hold of the dagger, he muttered, "I will have her yet ! You may fold her 
 to your heart you may enjoy her now ! but make the most of it ! My 
 time will come !" 
 
 So overjoyed waa Mary at her lover's return, that for the moment she 
 forgot the thousand eyes that were upon her, and wept for joy upon George's 
 bosom. 
 
 "Thank heaven, you are safe !" she exclaimed ; "thank heaven, you are 
 not murdered, and you have come back to save my father ! You have 
 come back to refute the base charge brought against hi a. to take the rope 
 from the innocent man's neck, and give him back his good name ! God's 
 hand is in this !" 
 
 "Yes, Mary, that is my purpose; and with His divine assistance, I will 
 accomplish it," said George, and giving Mary over to his father and greet- 
 ing the old man silently with a warm shake of the hand, he ascended and 
 stood beside Kale upon the scaffold ; and facing the gaping multitude, he 
 thus addressed them, in a voice a little tremulous from excitement : 
 
 "Fellow citizens ! I am here to save, and denounce ! I am here to succor 
 an innocent old man, who has been made the victim of hellish arts; and to 
 denounce the base calumniator, and foul murderer. You see in me the 
 individual for whose supposed murder, in connection with the assassina- 
 tion of the unfortunate Von Alstine, this old man was about to suffer death. 
 It is unnecessary for me to enter into details here, at a proper time and 
 place I shall do so, but only to affirm that I was present at the dreadful 
 affray that I saw the knife descend to drink the life's blood of my friend 
 that I at once recognized the fiend that dealt the blow ! and with the re- 
 sentment the occasion required, sought to revenge his death. But I was 
 overpowered by numbers ; receiving a thrust from an unknown dagger, 
 which nearly proved fatal to me. After which, I was conveyed to an un- 
 ier-ground prison, where I have since dragged out a miserable existence 
 till last night, when I providentially made my escape. The murderer is 
 Hot the old man that now stands beside me, who, though innocent, was 
 alout to suffer the penalty due to the greatest crime known to human 
 laws ; but Jerry Huss, the nefarious "Big Thunder," Chief of the "Anti- 
 renters !" And he pointed down directly into the upturned face of the dar- 
 'ing leader. 
 
 The fiery flash of his eye, and the involuntary start of Huss, under the 
 accusing look and denotive finger of George, revealed him to all. Huss 
 saw his danger he read his doom in every eye around; and his first im- 
 pulse was to rush upon the scaffold, sheath his dagger in the heart of his 
 accuser, and then turn the point upon himself, and thus die befitting the 
 fame he had acquired befitting "Big Thunder." But, a second thought
 
 64 MARY KALE : OR, 
 
 brought his unoffending victim before his mind's eye, her whom he had 
 sworn to possess, at the risk of his immortal soul, brought back the love of 
 life, the love of adventure, and entirely changed his purpose. Free him- 
 self from this motley crowd, and he was "Big Thunder," again. It was 
 worth trying for. He could not depend upon the few that were withhimj 
 for he knew it to be useless to fight against such odds ; and as they were 
 not suspected, he knew they would not willingly draw suspicions upon 
 themselves ; nor did he wish it. He must, depend upon himself. All this 
 passed through his mind in a tenth part of the time that it takes to relate 
 it ; and drawing the dagger from his bosom, with a fierce yell he rushed 
 upon the crowd. He had calculated aright. His sudden bound, fierce yell 
 and glittering steel, struck panic into the foremost of the crowd, which 
 gave way at his approach. Those in the rear not knowing the canse of 
 the outcry, nor the nature of the danger that threatened them, also gave 
 way, falling back on either side like the mighty waters of the "Red Sea," 
 rolled back by the Almighty's hand, giving passage to the Israelites. He 
 had nearly reached the limits of the crowd, in a minute he would be freej 
 when a giant's grasp was fixed upon his uplifted arm ; his feet was struck 
 out frorn under him, and Loper threw himself upon the body of the pros- 
 trate Chief., -jjfi- 
 
 In a rich and elegantly furnished room was seated a fair young girl. 
 A bright coal fire was burning in the grate, into which she was gazing 
 with a sort of dreamy abstraction, as if her thoughts were wandering far 
 from self. A slight rustling noise caused her to start, and approaching a 
 bed she drew back its rich silken curtains, and looked in. Ihe bed was 
 occupied by a young man, whose face was thin and pale as an invalid for 
 weeks confined, and his wasted frame looked like one in the consumption. 
 As the girl approached his pillow, he slowly opened and fixed his eyes upon 
 her lovely face with a searching and inquiring look. Was he dreaming ? 
 ,He had an indistinct recollection of strange events of an angel's hovering, 
 around him in his dreams; and as he gazed upon the bright being before 
 him he almost persuaded himself that she was indeed a visitant from the 
 world of spirits. "Mary," he murmured. 
 
 "Ah ! he knows me !" joyfully exclaimed the girl. "Thank Heaven he 
 has returned to consciousness and reason !" 
 
 - "Is it indeed you, Mary ? Then it is not all a dream ? And yet strange 
 visitations of memory fill my brain from the past strange mingling oC 
 evil and good of dark yes, yes, I remember it all ! tell me, Mary, where: 
 am I ? What has happened to me ? The last I remember " 
 
 "Nay, nay, you must not talk. You have been ill, dangerously ill, but 
 now you are better the crisis is passed! Thank God for it," she said, 
 fervently. "But you must not be imprudent. You must close your eyes 
 ami try to rest."
 
 BIG THUNDER. 55 
 
 "Tell me at least what became of that monster Huss ! what of your fa- 
 ther, and where I am now ?" 
 
 "Compose yourself and I will. When you had so nobly vindicated my 
 father, and denounced the guilty man, your strength which had been im- 
 paired by previous distress and sickness, and which had been sustained 
 thus far, only by your determined mind and the desire to do your duty, 
 gave way, and you became insensible. Jerry Huss was taken and con- 
 veyed to prison, where he now awaits his trial. My dear father was set 
 at liberty, and assisted your father in removing you to your home, where 
 you now are, blessing you for his life, and that ot his child." 
 
 "How does he feel towards me now, Mary? Will he consent to our 
 union ?" 
 
 "We will not talk about that now, George, you need rest sleep, and 
 to-morrow I will let you talk a little." 
 
 "Indulge me in this, dearest." 
 
 "I know not his feelings" she said, "except I judge from the anxiety he 
 has manifested towards you through your sickness. If to watch by you 
 night and day to listen, and hasten to procure any want suggested in 
 your delirium to soothe and tranquillize your feelings, when contending 
 with some powerful enemy, or watch your quiet slumbers be tokens of 
 love, then have his feelings changed towards you." 
 
 "I am grateful for it ; anil how stands my suit with you, Mary ?" he ask- 
 ed pressing the little hand that lay upon the bed beside him. 
 
 A blush suffused the handsome face of the girl, as she drew a miniature 
 from her bosom attached to d gold chain around her neck, and held it up 
 to the gaze of the young man. 
 
 "You are mine ?" 
 
 "Forever !" 
 
 He drew her down towards him, she yielding to his gentle force, and 
 imprinted a kiss upon her lips which she blushingly returned. 
 
 "Not a word more," she said playfully, "I must begin to use my author- 
 ity, so go to sleep and get well as soon as possible." And she left the 
 room. 
 
 Two months passed away, and George having recovered from his severe 
 illness, asked of Kale the hand of his daughter in marriage? The old man 
 Avith much show of feelings, gave his consent. He had suffered much, and 
 he looked upon it as a just punishment, sent upon him by a reproving God, 
 for his blind wilfulness in perverting the good intentions of a noble young 
 man, and endangering his daughter's happiness, he had passed through the 
 refiner's fire and come out bright. His eyes were opened, and he had 
 learned to judge of the tree by its fruit of men by their actions, and not 
 by his own prejudiced feelings and in short he was happy in living with 
 his daughter after her marriage with George Arlin, to enjoy that wealth
 
 56 JVIARY KALE. 
 
 which he once pretended so utterly to despise. Though to his credit be it 
 said, he never lost an opportunity when he could succor the distressed, or 
 aid the unfortunate. 
 
 Errata Page 6, 2d line from the bottom, reads lads should read lords. 
 Page 10, 4th line from the bottom, reads strong should read stony.