THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 GIFT OF 
 P. Lennox Tierney
 
 CAPTAIN RALPH. 
 
 A SEQUEL TO 
 
 BEATRICE HALLAM, 
 
 BY JOHN ESTEN COOKE, 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 SURRY OF EAGLES NEST," "MOHUN," "HILT 
 TO HILT," ETC., ETC. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1892, BT 
 
 G. W. Dillingham, Publisher^ 
 
 SUCCESSOR TO G. W. CARLETON & Co. 
 MDCCCXCIJ,
 
 C-n 
 
 CAPTAIN RALPH. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 1GW CAPTAIN WATERS THREATENED LANKY WITH THK BASTI 
 NADO EF HE SIGHED. 
 
 SINCE the events we have related, more than a year has 
 passed. 
 
 March, 1765, has come. 
 
 We cannot pause here to narrate those important politi 
 cal events, which marked the period between the winter of 
 1 763 and the spring of 1 765 : but in the course of our history, 
 the resu'_j of those events will unfold themselves and rise 
 co view, as the coral reef long growing beneath the ocean and 
 unseen, raises at last its dangerous wall above the waves- 
 events which made more noise than breakers : upon which 
 lordlier ships were shattered, than ever strewed the fatal 
 coasts of Madagascar. 
 
 In place of regaling the reader with an historical disqui 
 sition, we shall proceed to relate the adventures which befell 
 the personages of our narrative, after the violent denouement 
 in which, as in a huge vortex, so many of the dramatis per- 
 eonae were swallowed up 
 
 S37505
 
 6 HOW CAPTAIN WATERS THREATENED LANKY 
 
 March has come again into the world, as that merry 
 month promises to come in all future times with wind, and 
 rainy gusts, and chill moonshiny nights, and flowers peeping 
 from the sod looking for April, and their close-friend the gen 
 tle May. The earth smiles again, and begins to forget the 
 snow and ice : the days are growing warm again, but fires 
 are still far from uncomfortable. So at least thought a 
 military gentleman, who warmed his hands listlessly by a 
 cheerful blaze, on the day at which we have now arrived. 
 
 Captain Ralph Waters sits in that room, of the old fisher 
 man's mansion, which listened in the winter of '63, to the 
 narrative of his adventures. The room is very little changed 
 the Captain scarcely more. He is as handsome and mar 
 tial-looking as ever his moustache is as long and as black 
 his face as open and careless his sword clatters as gayly, 
 and his spurs jingle as serenely as before. Perhaps it is 
 not exactly correct in us to say, that his face is as care 
 less as ever : for, though there is no absolute cate upon 
 the martial countenance, there is a decided expression of 
 ennui. 
 
 The worthy soldier stretches out his legs, draws a long 
 breath from the bottom of his stalwart chest and yawns 
 portentously : he then twirls his moustache, endeavoring to 
 give it the warlike and gallant curl toward the eye, but the 
 moustache rebels, as if it were weary, like its master, and 
 persists in curling in the opposite direction. 
 
 The Captain, after several attempts to coerce the rebel 
 lious ornament, submits and yawns again. 
 
 " The fact is," he says, addressing his hat and cloak 
 which hanging on a nail, bear no bad resemblance to 
 an exceedingly thin gentleman, walking on the air, " the 
 fact is," says the Captain sighing, " I am going to pieces 
 here, like a ship cast upon the shore and falling away, tim 
 ber after timber. My good spirits are leaving me, parbleu ! 
 I am dying of ennui." 
 
 And having made this communication to the hat and 
 cloak, he relapses into silence for a moment. 
 
 " I really think that I will set out, and go and find mon 
 bon pere, and Charley, and Beatrice, in their mountain 
 home. I have not seen them, hilf himmel ! since last fall : 
 they talk about something they call ' Springs,' up there,
 
 WITH THE BASTINADO IP H.E SIGHED. 7 
 
 and its benefiting Beatrice's cold ! All nonsense ! I assert 
 that there is nothing in them, for they did me no good, what 
 soever ! " 
 
 And having thus floored his imaginary opponent in de 
 bate, and proved that the medicinal baths were folly, the 
 soldier again paused. 
 
 " I wonder where that farcical fellow Lanky is," con 
 tinues the Captain, again attacking his moustache, " he makes 
 me die a-laughing, with his opinions upon love and all that. 
 I fancy, however, that Miss Smith has not been enlightened 
 on her admirer's real sentiments yet." 
 
 And the Captain smiles. 
 
 " Heigho ! " he adds, again yawning, " what the devil is 
 come to me ! I am expiring of ennui I am becoming fat, I 
 really believe I have no longer any muscles ! " 
 
 And to test the reality of his fears, the Captain draws 
 his hanger, and makes half a dozen furious lunges at the 
 cloak, which suffers considerably. 
 
 " I'm as strong as ever." he adds, with a sigh, " I must 
 go and find somebody to quarrel with, or ventre du pape ! 
 I shall die." 
 
 At the same moment Lanky Lugg enters clad nearly 
 as we had the pleasure of seeing him on a former occasion, 
 and wiping his face with an exceedingly dirty sleeve. Lanky's 
 feet are perhaps larger than ever, his hands more like reap 
 ing hooks, his head more like a pine knot, than ever it has 
 been at any previous time. But there are some changes 
 observable in the gentleman. His stockings are more orna 
 mental than before, his clothes less ragged, his gait more 
 proud and impressive. When he bows his head from north 
 east to south-west, he presents the appearance of a man 
 darin figure fillipped by the finger of a child. 
 
 As Lanky enters, the Captain makes a terrific lunge at 
 him, the sword's point only stopping within an inch of his 
 breast : at which horrible circumstance, Lanky starts back 
 in profound terror, and looks at his master with astonished 
 eyes. 
 
 The Captain bursts into a laugh. 
 
 " Don't be afraid, mon garym I " he says, I am onlj 
 taking a little exercise."
 
 8 HOW CAPTAIN WATERS THREATENED 
 
 But the explanation does not satisfy Lanky, who keep! 
 at a safe and respectful distance, scratching his head. 
 
 " Lanky," says the Captain, " I am dying of weariness." 
 
 Lanky is unimpressed. 
 
 " Come, give me a little advice, you rascal ! Oh ! you 
 are afraid of my toasting iron, are you? Well, here it 
 goes." 
 
 And the Captain throws away the sword, which falls with 
 a tremendous clatter upon the table. This reassures his 
 companion, and obedient to his master's sign, he sits down 
 in the chimney corner. 
 
 " I am getting tired of life, Lanky," resumes the Captain 
 "existence, parbleu ! seems to me not worth having, so to 
 speak. Come, give me your views. What do you think ? " 
 
 "I never thinks about nothin', Cap'n," says Lanky; 
 
 ; < Never think ! " 
 
 " I does sometimes yes, I does," adds Lanky, correct 
 ing himself. 
 
 " What do you think of ? Of Donsy Smith, I'll wager." 
 
 Lanky draws himself up like an emperor. 
 
 " I ain't seen that young 'ooman lately, Cap'n," he saya. 
 
 " Have you quarrelled ? " 
 
 " No, Cap'n." 
 
 " How then ? " 
 
 "Parted." 
 
 And Lanky groans. 
 
 " Lanky, you are getting into bad spirits," says the Cap 
 tain, " I shall not permit that, Diable ! if we are both down, 
 what will become of us ? " 
 
 Lanky nods his head, with, a sigh. 
 
 " Don't sigh, you rascal I will not allow it : no retainer 
 of mine shall sigh on pain of the bastinado." 
 
 Lanky apparently does not understand this rhetorical 
 paraphrase. 
 
 " Take a slice of bacon, and a mug of beer, and get your 
 spirits again," continues the Captain. 
 
 Lanky assents to this, and is soon munching and drink 
 ing. 
 
 " Now advise me, animal ! " says the Captain, " egad I I 
 am perfectly emmye," and the soldier yawns
 
 WITH THE BASTINADO .F HE SIGHHO. 9 
 
 " S'pose jou fall in love, Cap'n," says Lanky, with hw 
 mouth full 
 
 The Captain greets this suggestion with a laugh. 
 
 " I cannot," he replies. 
 
 " You ain't tried." 
 
 " Have you ? " 
 
 Yes, sur." 
 
 " And successfully ? " 
 
 " Yes, Cap'n." 
 
 " Miss Smith, eh ? " 
 
 " Miss Smith and me, is 'most quit " says Lanky, wo 
 fully. 
 
 " But she was the object of your affections ? " 
 
 Lanky nods, wofully. 
 
 " I think then, I shall follow your advice," says his mas 
 ter, " and as you are a man of taste, I will adopt your own 
 sweetheart.'* 
 
 Lanky starts. 
 
 " Rather a pretty girl, too," says the Captain, caressing 
 the midnight fringe upon his upper lip. 
 
 " Oh, Cap'n ! " Lanky observes, overcome with horror. 
 
 The soldier bursts into laughter. 
 
 " Well, well 1 " he says, " don't fear : we shall not prob 
 ably be rivals but don't be too well assured. Let us now 
 dismiss the subject, and on this fine March morning, lay out 
 some plan for amusement." 
 
 Lanky reflects. 
 
 " There's the races sir, near Jeamston," he says soon. 
 
 " But they're a month or so off. Now in a month I 
 shall die, at the present rate. Something eke, parbleu ! 
 mon ami ! " 
 
 " S'pose you take a ride, Cap'n I ne^er see a day bet 
 ter for't." 
 
 The Captain yawns. 
 
 " Well," he says, " I believe I shall follow your advice , 
 go and get the Arab." 
 
 Lanky rises obediently. 
 
 " No : the roan," says the Captain. 
 
 " He's cast a shoe, and that's a fact, Cap'n." 
 
 " Diable ! then the Arabian Selvm, as the heathen dog 
 I bought him of calls him." 
 15
 
 10 HOW CAPTAIN WATERS THREATENED LANKY 
 
 Lanky goes out, and the Captain yawns uninterrupt? dly 
 until he returns. 
 
 " Heady, sir," says Mr. Lugg. 
 
 The Captain then buckles on his sword, issues forth and 
 mounts the sliin-legged animal, who whinnies at his ap 
 proach. He throws the bridle on his neck, and trusts to 
 Providence to direct him. Lanky meanwhile resumes his 
 meat and beer, and saws imaginary obstacles with the ste 
 reotyped north-east and south-west movement of his visage 
 
 Before following the soldier on his morning ride, let us 
 return for a moment to those personages who no longer light 
 up the rude mansion with their pleasant faces as of old 
 and whose whereabouts we have heard Captain Waters very 
 briefly allude to in his muttered soliloquy. 
 
 We have seen how Hallam and his " Company of Vir 
 ginia Comedians," had, like birds of passage, disappeared 
 from Virginia, after gatherng in those " sweet fields" to 
 carry out the simile as much golden grain as could be 
 found therein : and the whispered words of Beatrice, as she 
 sobbed and poured out her tender regrets to Charles Wa 
 ters, have put the reader in possession of the particulars of 
 that last interview between herself and her pseudo father. 
 
 We may understand readily how the young girl's reluc 
 tant and half-formed desperate resolution to remain with 
 Hallam, had melted before the tender caresses of the kind 
 old man, her uncle the more than tender looks and words 
 of him whom she had loved so dearly, and yet given up 
 with a bursting heart, at the call of inexorable duty. Thus 
 she had remained and soon after the scene upon the river, 
 the company had taken their departure, and were no more 
 seen in those borders not any more, for ever. 
 
 Hallam, Shy lock, Shallow, Mr. Effingham all these 
 had passed from Beatrice's horizon, leaving it bright and 
 calm : and in the fresh sunshine now she saw alone the 
 figures of her kind uncle, and her tender Charles, and jo 
 vial honest Captain Ralph, and Townes, and Lanky all 
 smiling on her, full of love for her. Thus the poor dove, 
 beaten so long by storms, and tossed about from land to 
 land ; exposed every where to persecutions, similar to those 
 under which we have seen her labor ; thus Beatrice found
 
 TTTH THE BAStlNADO IF HE SIGHED. 1 1 
 
 her life all at once changed : her heart suddenly filled with 
 light and joy. God had heard the prayers she had uttered, 
 and the harbor was now reached : henceforth she was saf 
 from storms. 
 
 Her objections were now all removed, and Charles Wa 
 ters become her husband : and to him, too, life opened and 
 grew brilliant with an untold splendor : all his sadnesa 
 passed his face was bright and joyous she was beside him, 
 loved so long, denied to him so long, now all his own. 
 
 The spring following the autumn and winter, whose events 
 we have related, passed away, and nothing clouded the un 
 alloyed happiness of the household, but a slight cough 
 which Beatrice had caught, she said, far back as her first ar 
 rival in Virginia, that day when she fell into the water from 
 the " Nancy." 
 
 With the quick apprehension of a lover, Charles Waters 
 magnified this slight indisposition, and determined to go and 
 take up his residence for a time near one of the newly dis 
 covered mineral springs, beyond the mountains. Beatrice 
 resisted this proposal at first, and laughed at his apprehen 
 sions and indeed her cough was the least possible, and gave 
 her no pain at all. She saw, however, that if she persisted 
 in her opposition he would be pained, and so she assented ; 
 and ere long Charles and herself, and old John Waters, who 
 would not leave her, his new-found daughter and little pet, 
 all went away and took up their sojourn in the far mountain 
 land, leaving the unfortunate Captain Ralph to amuse him 
 self with Lanky in the paternal mansion. 
 
 Captain Ralph had ipon reflection, determined to re 
 main ; having become accustomed to jovial society, he said, 
 those backwoods would kill him spite of having the bon 
 pre, Charley, and that " Marguerite des Marguerites " 
 Beatrice, to narrate his adventures to. Mr. Jack Hamilton 
 and himself had become great friends, and this had for a 
 time diverted the active soldier's ennui ; but Hamilton 
 could not fill up all his time ; and the Captain was begin 
 ning to spend many weary hours, such as we have seen him 
 yawning through, when our story again opened. 
 
 About once a month the lazy and leisurely post brought 
 him letters from the far mountains ; and carried back huge 
 epistles from the Captain in return. In these epistles the
 
 2 Atf ADVENTtTRE. 
 
 soldier narrated many th.\ngs, not even disdaining to detail 
 the progress of Lanky Lugg's love affair, which we shall 
 see something of in the course of our narrative. Beatrice 
 and the rest always laughed heartily at these accounts ; and 
 their letters to the soldier were full of mirth, and tender 
 ness, and joy; especially those of the young girl, who expe 
 rienced a species of wistful sadness, whenever she wrote the 
 name of her dead father, " Ralph Waters." 
 
 We shall now leave them, happy, joyous, in their far 
 mountain home, and proceed to the history of other person 
 ages of the drama. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 AN ADVENTURE. 
 
 LET us follow the Captain. 
 
 Mounted on his beautiful steed, he set forward, utterly 
 careless whither his steps tended leaving philosophically 
 to the intelligent animal this portion of the matter. The 
 horse took the road toward the mountains, as if he knew 
 where his master's heart was. 
 
 " Very well," said the Captain, " that suits me, Mon 
 sieur Selim, perfectly well. If you put forth that speed of 
 yours, you will reach them in a day, or less ! Strange," 
 continued the soldier, " how that girl has won upon me ! 
 By heaven, she's an angel but faith ! I can't go so far to-day 
 I am intensely lazy. What a day to be lazy in, too 1 
 It's extravagant." 
 
 And the soldier looked admiringly at the trees just put 
 ting forth their tender leaves, the grass just beginning to 
 peep up and lie a verdant background, for a thousand flow 
 ers;^ the little streams dancing along joyously in the gay 
 sunlight. He listened, with pleasure, to the small birdh 
 which chirruped gayly, and plumed their wings in the fresL 
 bracing wind of March, and went rising and falling on the 
 air billows, predicting summer and warmth. All pleased 
 him. On the day before there had been quite a heavy fall of 
 rain, and all the streams were swollen, and overflowed their 
 banks. The Captain had more than one of these to cros*
 
 Of ADVENTURE. $ 
 
 in his path, but seemed to attach very little importance to 
 them. He allowed the water to splash his boots with great 
 indifference, and rode on carelessly, humming a merry song 
 all about Marshal Soubise and the great Frederic. The 
 soldier's voice was excellent, and he gave the " Tra la ! tra 
 la ! " with great force and spirit completely to his own 
 satisfaction, indeed. 
 
 He came thus, singing merrily, and looking around him, 
 with the roving and curious eye of the partisan, to one of 
 those hollows in the hills, such as are found frequently in 
 all portions of Virginia. The road which had for a mile or 
 two traversed a species of wooded upland, now descended 
 abruptly into the gorge, and mounted the thickly firred de 
 clivity beyond. Through the gorge ran a deep stream, 
 which, swollen by the rain, had overflowed its banks, and 
 now rushed on under swaying pine boughs, with a merry 
 brawl, which sounded far from unpleasantly. The sunshine 
 gilded the rushing stream, the bold hill beyond, the thick 
 firs, and rude masses of rock : and so picturesque was the 
 scene, that Captain Ralph paused a moment, and looked at 
 it admiringly. 
 
 His fit of admiration soon subsided, however, and touch 
 ing his horse lightly, he passed down the steep road, having 
 resumed his song with new spirit. Selim hesitated a mo 
 ment, as he was about to place his delicate hoof in the wa 
 ter. 
 
 " Tra la ! tra la ! " came from the soldier's lungs lustily, 
 and apparently satisfied that this signified " go on ! " the 
 beautiful animal plunged into the water. In an instant his 
 back was covered, and Captain Ralph Waters experienced 
 a disagreeable sensation about the lower part of his person. 
 
 " Morbleu ! we are in for it 1 " he cried, drawing up his 
 knees, despairingly. 
 
 Selim snorted, and began to swim. 
 
 " Right ! " cried the soldier ; " Go on, comrade 1 What 
 is a trifling wetting ! " 
 
 And in defiance of the obstacle, the Captain began again, 
 more lustily than before, to troll his ditty. Selim swam 
 vigorously ; dashed the water from his glowing chest, and by 
 the time his master had arrived at the chorus of his song, 
 reached the opposite bank.
 
 1 4 AN ADVENTURE. 
 
 He emerged from the water like a vtatue of glittering 
 ebony, and the soldier, with a careless snake of his clothes, 
 was about to proceed onward, when suddenly his attention 
 was attracted to the opposite declivity, which, as we have 
 aid, was singularly steep and rugged. 
 
 Down this road there now came, at full speed, a chariot 
 drawn by four spirited horses, who had plainly run away, for 
 the coachman in vain endeavored to check them, by vigor 
 ously tightening the reins, and uttering violent cries. 
 
 The animals, with their resetted heads fixed obstinately 
 sidewise, took no notice of these signs, and swept onward at 
 a gallop down the declivity toward the stream, dragging the 
 huge chariot like a mere nutshell, rudely over the stones. 
 At every bound the framework cracked, at every stone the 
 unwieldly vehicle rumbled and groaned. 
 
 " Parbleu ! here will be a smash ! " cried the Captain, 
 as the animals rushed towards him ; " in an instant they will 
 be buried in that stream ! " 
 
 At the same moment, the head of a gentleman emerged 
 from the door, and over his shoulders were seen the Affrighted 
 faces of two young girls. 
 
 " Women, morbleu ! " cried the soldier ; " to the re5 
 cue ! " 
 
 And as the furious animals rushed headlong toward the 
 stream, he caught, with a powerful baud, the bridle of the 
 leader next to him, and exerting all his strength, made him 
 swerve. 
 
 Selim reared and fell upon his haunches, as the hot mouth 
 of the animal struck his neck, and the Captain, clinging like 
 a vice to the rein he had grasped, was drawn half from his 
 saddle. The other leader, checked thus suddenly, reared, 
 and his hoof struck the Captain's arm heavily. 
 
 In another instant he would have been hurled, in spite 
 of his great strength and activity, beneath the feet of the 
 animals, when the gentleman whose head he had seen, and 
 the coachman, both came to his assistance, and the coach- 
 horses, still struggling, panting, and furious, were subdued. 
 
 The Captain rose erect in his saddle again, and seeing 
 the terrified faces of the ladies at the window of the chariot, 
 took off his hat with his left hand, and made an elegant 
 bow.
 
 AN ADVENTURE. 15 
 
 " Excuse my rudeness, Mesdemoiselks.," he said, " that 
 devil of an animal has nearly broken my right arm, par- 
 bleu ! " 
 
 And the soldier made a wry face, as he tried to move it. 
 
 " 1 owe you a great many thanks, sir," said the gentle 
 man, who had now abandoned the horses to the coachman ; 
 " we should have run great risk here indeed, I may say 
 that you saved our lives." 
 
 " Not at all, not all no thanks," said the Captain ; " but 
 faith you would have got a wetting, sir ; and I very much 
 fear those charming young ladies would have had their silks 
 and velvets utterly demolished. Upon reflection, I am con 
 vinced that so far they owe me thanks." 
 
 " Pray let us know then, whom to return them to," said 
 the gentleman, with a courteous smile. 
 
 " To Captain Ralph Waters sometimes called the 
 Chevalier Waters, and the Chevalier La Rivie're, by the 
 rascally French, who translate every thing, parbleu ! " said 
 the soldier. 
 
 " Then, Captain, myself and my daughters are deeply 
 in your debt. My name is Lee, and I insist upon your go 
 ing with us to my house at Riverhead, to have your bruise 
 dressed." 
 
 " My bruise ? Oh yes ! I had forgotten it : but, ex 
 cellent sir, I do not attach importance to these trifles. A 
 bruise, more or less ? Basta ! tis nothing. Still I will 
 gladly go with you, for I am dying of ennui." 
 
 " Thanks, sir now let us see to the means 01* return- 
 ing" 
 
 The coachman soon reassured Mr. Lee upon this point. 
 The horses were now quiet, he said, and would go along eas 
 ily. They could not cross Duck creek, as it was too deep, 
 but the horses could be turned, and they could take the 
 cross-road to Riverhead. So the horses were turned, and 
 Mr. Lee, entering the carriage, the huge vehicle rolled up 
 the hill which it had descended so rapidly, and took the di 
 rection of Riverhead ; Captain Ralph Waters following 
 composedly by the window, and when not exchanging com 
 pliments with the ladies, continuing to hum in a low voice 
 his " Tra la ! tra la 1 "
 
 16 WAS, THE NATURAL RELATION 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 m>w CAPTAIN RALPH INFORMED MISS HENRIETTA LIE TJIAI 
 
 WAR WAS THB NATURAL RELATION OF THE SEXES. 
 
 AN hour's ride brought thorn to Riverhead, and the chariot 
 rolled around the gravelled circle, and stopped before the 
 large portico. 
 
 The old mansion looked much the same as it did on that 
 day, when in company with Mr. Champ Effingham, we first 
 entered its wide hall ; and the soft leaves of spring began to 
 rustle around the gables, and throw their delicate and rest 
 less shadows on the ancient walls. On that day, when Bea 
 trice, full of grief and mortification, had entered the house, 
 it looked silent and dismal, and the winds of autumn sobbed 
 around it mournfully : now, times and personages were 
 changed. In place of a sad, weary-looking mansion, there 
 was a pleasant, cheerful one : in place of a poor wounded 
 heart, a frail trembling form at the door, there entered un 
 der that broad portal, a martial merry stranger, with huge 
 moustache, and jingling spurs and sword, and serene brows 
 and lips, save when the brow was elevated by its apprecia 
 tion of some odd humor, the lips moved by laughter. 
 
 Autumn was gone merry and laughing spring had come. 
 
 They entered. Henrietta and Clare retired to make 
 their toilettes for dinner, and Mr. Lee explained briefly how 
 he had been to visit a neighbor, where he had spent the 
 night was returning how the horses took fright at some 
 thing: how they had been unable to check their fury, or 
 leap out. He wound up with a second expression of grate 
 t'ul thanks. 
 
 The Captain refused to receive them, and declared that 
 he was delighted to have met with something to arouse his 
 blood. Then Mr. Lee offered him a dressing-room. No, 
 he did not need it : and in the middle of the conversation 
 the young girls made their re-entrance. 
 
 Then came thanks again, which the Captain received as 
 before and Clare, with a delightful look of kind courtesy 
 in her sad little face, held out her hand. The Captain 
 pressed it with martial and chivalric respect to his lips.
 
 Or THE SEXES. 17 
 
 He thought that this jeremony would be repeated im 
 mediately with the lily hand of Henrietta : hut he was mis 
 taken. Henrietta's thanks were returned with much more 
 coolness and stateliness than Clare's; and she made no 
 movement indicating an intention to surrender her hand to 
 the soldier. She was clad as usual, with the utmost ele 
 gance and richness, and looked like a queen except that 
 her mischievously sparkling eyes somewhat belied her royal 
 air. 
 
 The Captain submitted to this refusal with great good- 
 humor, and looked admiringly at the brilliant countenance 
 Henrietta gave him back his gaze, and declared afterwards, 
 that she had never met with such an impudent person in all 
 her life before. Perhaps Captain Ralph was conscious of 
 what was passing through the young girl's mind, for he 
 turned away in a moment smiling. 
 
 Ten minutes afterwards a servant announced that dinner 
 was ready, and Henrietta hastily grasped her father's arm. 
 The Captain smiled again, as he offered his own to Clare, 
 and said to himself, " Why, she don't like me, parbleu 1 " 
 And so they entered, and took their places, the Captain mak 
 ing grimaces. 
 
 Clare saw the expression of his countenance, and said, 
 suddenly : 
 
 " Oh, sir I you gave me the arm which the horse bruised 
 I am very sorry 1" 
 
 " Nothing a mere trifle ! " said the Captain, sitting 
 down ; " do not give yourself a moment's uneasiness about 
 it, madam. We soldiers are accustomed to these incidents." 
 
 " You have seen some service then, sir," said Mr. Lee, 
 as dinner proceeded ; " though I might have known that 
 from your appearance simply." 
 
 " Yes, yes," said the soldier ; " not a little, excellent 
 sir. I was seized with a roving fit when I was a beardless 
 youth, and left home and the bon pdre old John Waters, 
 the fisherman down there is my father, and an :xce!lent fa 
 ther, morbleu 1 See what bad habits I have caught 1 " 
 
 Mr. Lee smiled. 
 
 " Is it not shocking, madam," continued the soldier, ad 
 dressing Henrietta, "that even in the presence of such
 
 1 8 WAR, THE NATURAL RELATION 
 
 charming persons as yourself and mademoiselle, here, 1 
 should not be able to drop my little peculiarities ? " 
 
 " I suppose it is the result of your profession, sir," re 
 turned Henrietta, coldly. She had not forgotten the stare 
 yet. 
 
 " Certainly, certainly " said the Captain, " undoubtedly ! 
 We poor soldiers cannot be expected to be very polished. 
 We find ourselves whipping out our ' morbleus ' and ' egads,' 
 parbleu ! see there, again ! Really, it is deplorable 1 " 
 
 And the Captain seemed so much vexed with himself, 
 that Clare could not help smiling. 
 
 " Ah, you appreciate the soldier's disadvantage, madam," 
 said Captain Ralph, returning Clare's smile. 
 
 " Humph ! " said Henrietta, to herself " that means, I 
 suppose, that I am very unreasonable, and do not." 
 
 " Madam your elder sister, I presume she looks much 
 older does not appreciate the said disadvantages, I fear," 
 continued the Captain, " and that is, I think, unreasonable." 
 
 Henrietta frowned, and seemed to relish very slightly 
 this verification of her thoughts. 
 
 " Nothing could be more natural, Captain Waters," she 
 said, somewhat piqued, " than that you should retain some 
 of the ways of camps. It would be unreasonable, as you 
 have said, to look for any thing else in " 
 
 " A rude soldier. Well, I finish your thoughts, and you 
 are right. We had hard times under his gracious Majesty, 
 the great Frederic of Prussia. Diable! blows came as 
 thick as hail, and there was little polish except that on steel 
 caps and halberds, madam ! Do not, however, understand 
 me as complaining. No, we had a glorious time fighting 
 like devils, drinking, bivouacking, taking towns, chasing the 
 French ; ah ! it was a glorious life believe me, madam, a 
 thing to stir the blood, and make one happy 1 " 
 
 With which words, the Captain raised his arm enthusi 
 astically, and in consequence uttered a distinct and unmis 
 takable 
 
 " Diable I " 
 
 " Your recollections seem exceedingly vivid, sir," said 
 Henrietta, with a satirical curl of her lip, " take care of your 
 arm 1 " 
 
 " Excellent advice 1 " cried the Captain, laughing, " ad 
 mirable I "
 
 07 THE SEXES. 19 
 
 " Will you not let me get you something, to dress the 
 bruise, sir ? " said Clare, softly, " it is very little to do for 
 you, after exposing yourself to so much danger for us." 
 
 " No. no ! a thousand thanks, however, my dear Miss 
 Lee," said the soldier, " you really make me regret that I 
 did not break both arms ! " 
 
 And having uttered this witticism, Captain Waters 
 emptied a huge glass of wine to Clare's health. 
 
 " It would be hard for you to suffer such a calamity now 
 after passing through so many wars," said Mr. Lee, with a 
 smile, as the young ladies rose to leave the table. 
 
 " Yes, yes," said the Captain, throwing a last smiling 
 glance upon Henrietta, " yes, Mr. Lee after so many blood- 
 and-thunder battles, cannonading, charges, and assaults on 
 towns and ports, and every thing of that description you 
 are right : it would be a b&tise to have my arm broken by 
 a horse, parbleu ! " 
 
 " You were about to speak of your campaigns just now, 
 when we were drawn off by a discussion, in regard to camp* 
 manners," Mr. Lee said, smiling. 
 
 " My campaigns ? Ah ! I cannot draw the diagram, aa 
 well as I can handle my halberd in the ranks, sir." 
 
 " You fought at Rosbach ? " 
 
 " Yes, excellent sir." 
 
 " Were you with the Duke of Cumberland ? " 
 
 " No, Heaven be thanked. Being nonplussed is bad 
 but by Marshal D'Etrees I " 
 
 And the soldier's moustache curled. 
 
 " Lissa, perhaps, was another of your battles," said Mr. 
 Lee, who seemed to be curious in the subject of the Seven 
 Years' War : 
 
 The Captain nodded. 
 
 " Not Glatz, I hope." 
 
 " Yes," said the soldier. 
 
 " Really you must have seen a great deal of servioe, 
 Captain Waters," said the old gentleman. " If it is not too 
 much trouble, would you be good enough to explain the posi 
 tion of the forces at Lissa the numbers of combatants and 
 other matters. The subject interests me deeply, and you 
 were an eye-witness ? " 
 
 " Yes, my dear sir yes : Will I explain, say you J 
 Why. certainly."
 
 20 WAR, THE NATURAL RELATION 
 
 Mr. Lee bent over, much interested. The Captain pjur 
 ed some drops of wine on the table, and elongated them into 
 the lines of a diagram, with his finger. 
 
 " Mark you our force was only 30,000, that of the ene 
 my close upon 100,000," commenced the Captain ; " it was 
 fought on the 5th of December, and this was the position of 
 the battalions : the great Frederic here there Prince Charles 
 of Lorraine, and General Nadasti. Do you understand ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes," said Mr. Lee, bending over. 
 
 " Well, parbleu ! now for the battle." 
 
 And the soldier began. 
 
 We regret that we cannot follow him, in his stirring and 
 excited narrative a narrative in which men and actions rose 
 visibly before the auditor, colored by the brilliant and vigor 
 ous mind of the soldier. The battle of Lissa, in which the 
 great Frederic surpassed Rosbach, has unfortunately nothing 
 at all to do with our history, and we are compelled to omit 
 the Captain's account of it an account which Mr. Lee lis 
 tened to with rapt attention. 
 
 " That was it, parbleu ! " cried the soldier. " Frederic 
 never surpassed it in all his wonderful campaigns the old 
 Satyr 1 Imagine a wild boar cool and laughing there is 
 the man, at Lissa. Well, after that last charge a perfect 
 hell of guns and troopers, rushing on like a lake of fire sud 
 denly let loose, all was said ! The enemy were nothing but 
 a parcel of sheep. We took nearly 30,000 prisoners on the 
 field, and 40,000 more, to say nothing of guns and wagons, at 
 Breslau. Tonnere ! it was a day which a man remembers all 
 his life, and I hear the drums rolling over Breslau now aa 
 I hear plainly the tumult of that great tremendous battle, 
 roaring, crashing, rising and falling; I almost smell the 
 Mood ! 
 
 And the soldier's eyes were illuminated with a brilliant 
 and martial fire, which riveted the gaze of his deeply-inter 
 ested auditor. 
 
 " Ah, sir," said Mr. Lee, " I envy you those experi 
 ences you are very fortunate : how grandly you must have 
 felt after that fight." 
 
 " For a time yes, friend. But it was not the most 
 agreeable sort of life. True, we have wild and splendid adven 
 tures, passion, excitement, and delight. But there is some
 
 OP THE SEXES. 21 
 
 iuffering, believe me yet let us not speak of that. I could 
 relate some of my experiences of that suffering phase but 
 it is not necessary. Parbleu ! I don't regret any thing." 
 
 And the two men rose, and betook themselves to the 
 drawing-room. 
 
 After an hour's conversation, in which Henrietta pre 
 served the same expression of coldness and pique, the sol 
 dier rose to take his leave. 
 
 Mr. Lee held out his hand courteously, and said : 
 
 " I should esteem it a favor, Captain Waters, if you 
 would occasionally call and see me here. I am an old man, 
 and do not visit much myself: do not stand upon cere 
 mony." 
 
 " Ah, mon ami," said the soldier, " you would have 
 some more battles is it not so ? " 
 
 " Yes you have guessed my hobby," replied the old 
 gentleman, smiling : " but I fear you will become weary." 
 
 " Not at all. I am fond of going over my adventures, 
 and you know we can always defer the subject, until the 
 fair ladies, here, retire. While they are present, we will 
 liscuss the last fashions and modes de Paris" 
 
 With which the Captain twirls his moustache, and directs 
 an engaging smile toward Henrietta. 
 
 " Indeed, sir ! " says the queenly young girl, " you must 
 have a very low opinion of our sex." 
 
 " How ! my dear madam ? " 
 
 Henrietta feels some resentment, at this easy mode of 
 address, and becomes more indignant than ever, at the Cap 
 tain's impudence. But she replies : 
 
 " The injustice lies in your imagining that we think of 
 nothing but dress, and cannot understand battles." 
 
 " Ah, you do me injustice, now," says the Captain. " I 
 am so far from thinking your charming sex averse to battles, 
 that I am convinced that war is the normal state of their 
 lives." 
 
 " War, sir ? " 
 
 " To be sure ! nothing plainer. Ah, my dear mademoi 
 selle, you cannot deny it 1 You make war, for ever, on th 
 unfortunate rude sex. Is it not so ?* 
 
 " I do not, sir." 
 
 "Possibly: then you are an exception I can \jnder-
 
 22 WAR, THE NATURAL RELATION OP THJS SEXES. 
 
 stand that you do not care for us but nevertheless, madam, 
 war is your sex's natural state. See, the artillery of your 
 eyes how fatal is it ! What fatal, death-dealing glances 
 you throw. By heaven, it is worse than gunpowder, and 
 many a tall fellow has succumbed. Well, well, I see I am 
 wearying you. I shall now respectfully bid you farewell." 
 
 " I hope your arm does not pain you, sir," says Clare, 
 softly. 
 
 " Not now, madam scarcely at all : 'tis a mere trifle 
 not like the cut I got at Q-latz." 
 
 " Remember, Captain, that Glatz is promised me," says 
 Mr. Lee, " and I shall give you but a day or so to rest, after 
 fighting Lissa over for me. When shall we expect you ? " 
 
 " Morbleu ! very soon ! I assure you that I am dying 
 of weariness down there the bon pere, Charley, and all, 
 are gone behold me all alone, a sole cavalier, fault of 
 better." 
 
 " Why does he not speak in French at once," said Henri 
 etta to herself, satirically. 
 
 " Do you speak French, madam ? " asked the Captain. 
 
 " No, sir," said Henrietta, more piqued than ever, at 
 having her countenance read so easily, " why do you ask ? " 
 
 " Faith ! I saw you smiling at my unfortunately un- 
 English way of talking." 
 
 Henrietta made no reply. 
 
 " Nothing is more natural, than that you should have 
 acquired the habit, in the Seven Years' War, Captain," said 
 Mr. Lee, " and I promise you that I will listen to your ac 
 count of Glatz, if it is given entirely in French." 
 
 " Well, sir prepare yourself very soon. As I said, time 
 hangs on my hands, down yonder. Lanky, he is my servant, 
 amuses me sometimes, but I find much time on my hands." 
 
 " Your visit will be a pleasure, and an honor, sir ; and 
 permit me, again, to thank you for your service rendered to 
 us to-day." 
 
 " Oh, it was nothing, as you know : and now, sir, I must 
 go as I perceive that Mademoiselle Henriette have I mis 
 taken your name, madam ? No ? Well, I am afraid you 
 tire of me and I take my leave." 
 
 With which words the Captain oowed to Henrietta c*v-
 
 AN ENCOUNTER ON THE HIGHWAY. 28 
 
 alierly, to Clare piofoundly, and again shaking hands with 
 the old gentleman, issued forth and mounted his horse. 
 
 " A splendid girl I " he said to himself, as he got into 
 the saddle, " what if I seriously thought of marrying ? I 
 am sure she would have me we would suit each other per 
 fectly." 
 
 And laughing quietly to himself, the Captain returned 
 homeward, humming his " Tra la 1 tra la 1 " 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 AN ENCOUNTEB ON THE HIGHWAY. 
 
 Two days after the scene which we have just related, Hen 
 rietta and Clare were sitting in the drawing-room at River- 
 head, waiting for their father, who was making his toilette, 
 to accompany them out to dinner. The chariot stood at 
 the door, with its four glossy horses, and liveried coachman 
 and footman. 
 
 Henrietta was amusing herself with a new book, at which 
 she laughed from time to time merrily. Clare was sitting 
 quietly engaged upon some small ornamental work, and her 
 sweet tender little face, wore its usual expression of quiet 
 sadness, as with her long dusky lashes resting on her cheek, 
 she pursued her occupation. 
 
 At last Henrietta threw down the volume, petulantly. 
 
 " I cannot have any peace of my life ! " she exclaimed. 
 
 Clare raised her head. 
 
 " How, sister ? " she said. 
 
 ' For thinking of that rude man's impudence 1 " 
 
 " Who Captain Waters ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Did he offend you ? " 
 
 " My goodness, Clarry ! how unobservant you are 1 Did 
 you not hear his impertinent speeches to us ? " 
 
 " No, sister." 
 
 " Well, I heard them J and I think he is odious I " 
 
 " Odious ? "
 
 24 AM ENCOUNTER ON THE HIGHWAY. 
 
 "Hateful!" 
 
 " Oh, you ought not to place too much stress upon hia 
 roughness, sister," said Clare, * he has not been bred in 
 courts he has been fighting, you know." 
 
 " Is that any reason why he should insult a lady ? " 
 
 " Insult you, sister ! " 
 
 " Yes, Clarry you know he did. ' Ladies could not 
 understand any thing but fashions,' indeed 1 He would wait 
 until we had retired, to narrate his heroic achievements 1 " 
 
 Clare smiled faintly. 
 
 " I don't think he meant to offend you, or me, sister," she 
 said. 
 
 " Well, I choose to be offended, Clarry, whether yon do 
 or not ! Really ! ' The artillery of my eyes war the na 
 tural relation of the sexes 1 ' Was any thing ever more im 
 pudent!" 
 
 " It was a very harmless jest, I think," replied Clare. 
 
 " I think it very impudent." 
 
 " Oh, no, sister." 
 
 " There you are, Clarry, with your excessive good-na 
 ture 1 You see nothing improper, in the free and easy ad 
 dress of this rude man who " 
 
 " Who did us a very great service, sister," added Clare, 
 softly. 
 
 " Well, suppose he did : any gentleman would have done 
 as much. Do not understand me to say, however, that I 
 think him a gentleman." 
 
 " Papa says that he is a very worthy gentleman." 
 
 " Humph ! " ejaculated Henrietta. 
 
 " He says," continued Clare, " that from his own account 
 he must have fought very bravely, ' like a lion,' papa 
 says " 
 
 " Yes his boasting ! " 
 
 " No, no papa says that he never mentioned himself, 
 unless he was questioned." 
 
 " Mock modesty 1" 
 
 Clare smiled again, with the same faint, quiet expression. 
 
 " You are determined, I see, to dislike Captain Waters," 
 she said, " and I cannot convince you, that he meant no 
 offence when he was here." 
 
 " No, Clarry, you cannot"
 
 AN ENCOUNTER ott THE HiGHWAt. 26 
 
 " Your prejudices are very strong, sister.' 
 
 " Yes, they are, and I confess that I think this gentle 
 man is odious, hateful, impertinent ; and I will never see him 
 again." 
 
 As she spoke, a loud, hearty voice, was heard to say in 
 the passage, " Parbleu ! you need not announce me, friend ! " 
 and Captain Ralph entered, smiling and cheerful. 
 
 " Bon jour, mesdames ! " he said, bowing, " or if you do 
 not like French, permit me to inquire about your health in 
 good English." 
 
 " Thank you, I am well, sir," said Clare, with a cour 
 teous little inclination of her smiling face. 
 
 " And Miss Henrietta ? " said the Captain, " I am sure, 
 if outward appearances are to be relied on, she is distress 
 ingly well, in awfully good spirits." 
 x" I am very well, sir," said Henrietta, coldly. 
 
 " Any more adventures, madam ? " asked the Captain, 
 with great interest, " no horses running away again, eh ? " 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 " Then, you have not missed me ? " 
 
 " No, sir ! " said Henrietta, with great emphasis. 
 
 The Captain smiled. 
 
 " Well, then, you are in my debt somewhat," he said. 
 
 " How, pray sir ? " asked Henrietta, with cold surprise, 
 and a look which was intended to transfix and render speech 
 less the audacious visitor. 
 
 " The plainest thing in the world, morbleu ! " said the 
 Captain, "I am a bachelor." 
 
 " Sir ? " 
 
 " I live all alone down there, in my cabin on the river 
 where the bon pre used to live, you know." 
 
 " No, I do not know, sir." 
 
 " Ah, well ! that does not alter the fact," said the Cap 
 tain, with a cheerful smile, " it is the paternal mansion my 
 father, my dear madam, is that excellent old fisherman, John 
 Waters. But he is now away with Charley in the moun 
 tains ; and thus I am alone by myself as lonely, parbleu ! 
 as an unfortunate bear, forced to suck his paws for amuse- 
 in 3nt." 
 
 " Well, sir ? " said Henrietta, as coldly as ever. 
 
 " Well," continued the Captain, smiling, " it naturally
 
 26 AN ENCOUNTER ON THft HIGHWAY. 
 
 follows that I am in want of company. When I see others 
 surrounded with it, I break the tenth commandment though 
 not the clause relating to my neighbor's wife. When I 
 left you two days since, my unfortunate mansion seemed 
 more lonely than ever. Voila tout ! That is why I missed 
 you." 
 
 And the Captain curled his moustache toward the eye, 
 with a fascinating smile. It was Henrietta's lip that 
 curled. 
 
 " I would counsel you to marry then, sir," she said, sa 
 tirically, " a companion would cheer your loneliness." 
 
 " See ! now, what a remarkable coincidence of thought ! " 
 cried the soldier, laughing. " Parole cTkonneur, Madam 
 Henrietta, you have hit upon just what occurred to myself! " 
 
 " Indeed, sir ! " 
 
 " Yes, indeed verily, as the English chaplain of our 
 regiment used to say, with a dreadful drawl, however, through 
 his nose. Yes, indeed upon my word of honor as a sol 
 dier ! That has struck me yes, I want a wife. For you 
 know I cannot be all the time with Jack Hamilton, and those 
 stupid members of the ruder sex." 
 
 " Mr. Hamilton is one of my friends, sir," said Henrietta, 
 more and more piqued. 
 
 " Ah ? Well, he is a good fellow an excellent fellow ! 
 Parbleu ! a delightful companion, and we have emptied many 
 a jovial cup together : a good comrade Seigneur Mart- 
 Reynard, as I call him. Guess, now, his name for me ! " 
 
 " I have very little turn for guessing, sir." 
 
 " Shall I reveal it then ? " 
 
 " If you fancy, sir." 
 
 " Certainly, I fancy. He calls me the farceur ! his 
 name for me is Don Moustachio ! What a deplorable at 
 tempt at a jest." 
 
 " It is at least characteristic, sir," said Henrietta, with 
 satirical smile. 
 
 " Why, yes," replied the Captain, " there is some justice 
 in designating me by my moustache.' 
 
 And the Captain caressed that ornament affectionately; 
 his white teeth glittering under the ebon fringe like huge 
 pearls. 
 
 " A good companion is Hamilton," he added, and 1
 
 AN ENCOUNTER ON THE HIGHWAY. J 
 
 feave many excellent friends of the same description. But 
 ifter all ma'm'selle, there is nothing like the divine sex." 
 
 " Thank you, sir I " 
 
 " Oh. you think me insincere ! " 
 
 "No^sir!" 
 
 " You think I flatter you." 
 
 " Was any portion of your ohservation intended for me, 
 Bir ? Really you are very kind ! " 
 
 " Any portion for yourself 1 Why the whole of it was 
 for you." 
 
 " A thousand thanks, sir," said Henrietta, with the same 
 satirical expression. 
 
 " You deserved it, morbleu ! " added the Captain, " and 
 lest I may be considered ungallant by Miss Clare, I will say 
 that she deserved even more." 
 
 Clare smiled politely. 
 
 " You are very gallant, I think, Captain Waters," she 
 said. 
 
 " I gallant ! oh, no ! ma'm'selle : I am only a rude sol 
 dier. I handle the pike and halberd, sword and pistol, car 
 bine and musket, much better than the implements of peace 
 smiling words, polite speeches, and all that. Frankness, 
 madam, is my only virtue but that I claim to have in ex 
 cess." 
 
 " It is a quality I very much admire, Captain Waters," 
 here interposed the voice of Mr. Lee, who had entered be 
 hind the soldier ; " give you good day, sir." 
 
 And the old gentleman shook the soldier cordially by 
 the hand. 
 
 " You are going to ride, sir," said the Captain; " I be 
 lieve another of my shining merits is, that I always happen 
 to arrive malapropos" 
 
 " No our ride is of no importance : to-morrow will do 
 as well. You came to dine with us, doubtless, and so I will 
 eend the chariot back." 
 
 Henrietta could not restrain a little sigh of dissatisfac 
 tion : to be disappointed in their ride ! to be obliged to 
 entertain the soldier all day long ! It was too vexatious." 
 
 The Captain heard the sigh, and catching the expression 
 of the young girl's face, smiled. He had her at his mercy, 
 and for a moment paused maliciously.
 
 28 AN ENCOtiNTER ON THE HIGHWAY. 
 
 At last he said, laughing : 
 
 " No, no, sir 1 I could not think of forcing you to defer 
 your excursion : I perceive that mesdames here are bent 
 upon it." 
 
 " We were only going over to Effingham Hall, sir a 
 matter of no urgency : merely a friendly call," said Mr. Lee. 
 " You shake your head. Ah, well sir go with us. What 
 say you ? " 
 
 " I have not the pleasure of Effingham Hall's acquaint 
 ance," said the Captain, coldly, " though I remember going 
 there one day, to challenge Mr. Effingham Jr." 
 
 u A challenge, sir ! " said Henrietta. 
 
 " Yes, my dear madam. Mr. Effingham, Jr., aforesaid, 
 ran his toasting iron through my brother's shoulder, and as 
 there was a little affair already nearly hatched between them, 
 I thought it my duty to take Charley's place." 
 
 " But you did not fight ! " exclaimed poor Clare, " you 
 know " 
 
 There she stopped, with her face overshadowed. 
 
 " No, Ma'm'selle Claire, vous avez raison. No ! we did 
 not, and that for one circumstance which would not interest 
 you. The young gentleman went away, doubtless ignorant 
 of the fact that 1 had called." 
 
 Poor Clare's head drooped, as the Captain uttered these 
 words, and she murmured, " Yes, he went the same evening." 
 She alone knew all. 
 
 " Therefore," continued the Captain, " I decline going 
 to Effingham Hall : but that does not prevent my riding by 
 the chariot, mesdames, for a mile or two. I am desperately 
 tired of that Lanky 's society." 
 
 And, smiling, the Captain issued forth with the company. 
 
 " Ah, your beautiful horse again," said Mr. Lee, " an 
 Arabian, sir ? " 
 
 " Yes, I took a fancy to him in Constantinople, and 
 bought him for a handful of piastres. A beautiful horse is 
 the next thing to a beautiful woman ! " 
 
 " Thanks for the comparison, sir," aid Henrietta, dis 
 dainfully. 
 
 " Is it not just ? " 
 
 "Sir?" 
 
 " Come, is not Selim handsome ? Answer, ma'mselle."
 
 AN ENCOUNTER ON THE HIGHWAY. 2ft 
 
 " Yes, sir well ? " 
 
 " That satisfies me : and faith ! I am so well pleased 
 with getting the better of you in the argument, that if you 
 want him, I will present you with Selim." 
 
 Henrietta looked at the soldier. 
 
 " You would suit each other : he's a charming horse,' 
 said the Captain, laughing. 
 
 Henrietta was completely overcome, by these audacious 
 compliments : and could only say, coldly : 
 
 " Thank you, sir I have a riding horse." 
 
 " Will you ride on horseback, or with us ? " interposed 
 Mr. Lee. 
 
 " On horseback, sir parbleu, on horseback. I am more 
 at home in the saddle and Selim understands me." 
 
 And passing to the carriage door, the Captain gallantly 
 assisted the young girls to enter the huge vehicle, laughing 
 all the while, at the successful generalship which forced 
 Henrietta to give her hand to him. 
 
 The chariot then rolled off toward Effingham Hall, and 
 the Captain, mounting Selim, who stood ready, rode toward 
 it, humming his eternal " tra la ! tra la ! " which he occasion 
 ally changed, for the sake of variety, to " Tirra lirra ! tirra 
 lirra ! " 
 
 He rode for some miles by the carriage window, and 
 managed to materially deepen the impression of his imperti 
 nence upon Henrietta, by declining to understand her satiri 
 cal repartees, and applauding them as so many evidences of 
 sprightliness, with which he was delighted. When the 
 chariot arrived at the road which led from the highway to 
 Effingham Hall, the Captain drew up. 
 
 " You will not go with us, then ? " said Mr. Lee, " I 
 hope you have no quarrel with the squire, sir ? " 
 
 " None none : I may even say, I think that we are 
 good friends, since I recollect some very polite speeches he 
 made on our former meeting. But I must go to Williams- 
 burg this morning. I had quite forgotten that this is tho 
 day of the arrival of the mountain post." 
 
 " Ah, yes your father " 
 
 " Precisely, my dear sir father, brother, sister : how 
 could I neglect that, morbleu ! " 
 
 " Well, sir : then we must hope to see you at Riverhead 
 looo again."
 
 SO TWO ENEMIES, 
 
 " With pleasure , with pleasure ! Mesdames, bonjour f 
 
 And the Captain bowed elegantly, taking off, and lowering 
 to his saddle-bow, his hat with its dark feather. The car 
 riage rolled on, and Captain Ralph continued his way, alter 
 nately humming his song, laughing to himself, and address 
 ing himself to the woods, in a half audible tone. 
 
 He had nearly reached the town, when the sound of 
 a horse's hoofs attracted his attention, and raising his head 
 which had been for some time hanging down listlessly, the 
 soldier saw within ten rods of him, a gentleman who was rid 
 ing toward him, mounted on a splendid sorrel. 
 
 Something in the air of the traveller, struck him as 
 strangely familiar; and his keen eye plunged beneath the 
 drooping hat, which, black like the stranger's clothes, covered 
 his brow. 
 
 The traveller drew nearer raised his head quickly : and 
 the two men at the same moment recognized each othe?. 
 
 The new comer was Mr. Champ Emngham. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 TWO ENEMIES. 
 
 THE two men looked at each other for some moments, in per 
 fect silence. 
 
 Mr. Effingham was much changed : his face was thin 
 ner, and had more character in it; his costume was more 
 subdued and in much better taste, though it was as rich as 
 ever ; and his whole air and carriage was much more calm 
 and collected, than it had ever been before. But still the old 
 weary listless shadow in the eyes remained : and one might 
 have seen on a closer examination, that those eyes were not so 
 brilliant and youthful looking as before that this man must 
 have lived long in a very short time, and perforce of cram 
 ming passion, so to speak, into his life grown prematurely old. 
 The eye was clear, it is true but it was not happy : the lipn 
 were as handsome as ever; but two diverging lines betrayed 
 Buffering and thought : the pale brow was not so smooth as
 
 TWO ENEMIES. 81 
 
 it had been. Mr. Effingham looked like a man who had ex 
 
 hausted all stormy emotions and become calm again : not 
 so much the calmness of satisfied desires, as the slumber of 
 discordant emotions. 
 
 The reader may imagine from these few words of hasty 
 description, that this man, a portion of whose wild career we 
 have attempted to delineate, had lost that conspicuous grace 
 and fire, which formerly drew all eyes toward him : that 
 he had grown old, as a young man does, by wild courses and 
 extraordinary dissipation : that Mr. Effingham had no 
 longer any marked characteristic, at least pleasant charac 
 teristic. This was only partially true. He was plainly a 
 man of far more character than ever a finer cavalier, every 
 way stronger, so to speak, than before. The slight stoop 
 in his shoulders, which betrayed the intense thinker, gave to 
 his figure a singular nobleness of outline ; his sword was worn 
 with a grace very unlike his old petit maitre habit; his 
 broad brow, no longer disfigured with a wig, rose above the 
 thoughtful eyes like a tower : his costume, as we have said, 
 was rich but simple ; and to sum up all in one word, Mr. 
 Effingham looked like a man who had suffered and grown 
 harder, and as a consequence of that suffering and new 
 strength, left behind many of his youthful follies : and so, 
 achieved, if not happiness, at least calmness. 
 
 The Captain, with his keen, rapid glance, took in all these 
 details at once, and then, with a haughty inclination of his 
 head, was about to pass on. 
 
 Mr. Effingham raised his hand, and with great calmness 
 though a slight flush rose to his cheek, as he spoke 
 said: 
 
 " Would you be good enough to give me a moment of 
 your time, Captain Waters ? I have something to say to 
 you." 
 
 The soldier tightened his rein, and waited in silence for 
 his companion to speak. 
 
 " This is a meeting which I have long desired, sir," con 
 tinued Mr. Effingham, stroking the mane of his horse. 
 
 The soldier inclined his head coldly, without speaking. 
 
 " I can easily understand that my face is not agreeable 
 to you, sir," continued Mr. Effingham, in the same courteous 
 and placid tones which had characterized the first words
 
 32 TWO ENEMIES. 
 
 addressed to the soldier. " I do not complai of that : 1 
 have no right to. It were singular if we met as food friends 
 after the scenes which we have passed through or, more 
 properly speaking, those between Mr. Charles Waters and 
 myself. I do not expect you to give me your hand I do 
 not ask that. But I have misunderstood your character, 
 if, after the few words I have to say, your mind and heart 
 remain bitter if you are still my enemy." 
 
 " We are not enemies, sir," said the Captain, joldly 
 " matters are all ended accounts closed we are indifferent 
 to each other." 
 
 " Pardon me, sir : but that cannot be. In this world 
 persons who have sustained the singular relationship toward 
 each other which we have, can never afterwards be wholly 
 indifferent." 
 
 " You had something to say, I believe, sir ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir ; and I shall proceed to say it, resolutely refus 
 ing to adopt the tone toward yourself, which you adopt to 
 ward me.'' 
 
 There was so much courtesy and dignity in these words, 
 that Captain Waters felt that his haughty and freezing man 
 ner was unreasonable. 
 
 " I have no desire to insult you, Mr. Effingham," he said; 
 " we are nothing to each other, and, morbleu ! have I not 
 already declared that I do not regard you as an enemy." 
 
 " Well, sir, for that I thank you,'' said Mr. Effingham, 
 as calmly and courteously as before ; " and now, sir, let me 
 Bay what I have desired to utter, in the hearing of your 
 family, for a long time. Let me briefly tell you for you 
 perhaps do not know all let me tell you the nature of those 
 events, whose disastrous or nearly disastrous climax you ar 
 rived in time, and just in time to witness. I am not fond 
 of the particle ' I,' and beg that you will permit me to adopt 
 another form. 
 
 " Well, sir, there lived a year or two ago, near this place 
 where we now meet, a young man of strong passions and vio 
 lent impulses. He inherited the traits of his family strong 
 feelings under an indifferent and easy exterior. One day 
 that young man met with a girl it was in that very forest, 
 sir, which you have just emerged from a young girl of rare 
 and dazzling beauty, a beauty which still blinds me when J
 
 TWO ENEMIES. 33 
 
 gaze upon it, though I have passed through much to distract 
 the mind since that luminous face shone on me. Well, sir," 
 continued Mr. Effingham, whose voice for a moment had 
 changed singularly " Well, sir, it was the old tale : he 
 loved her devotedly, passionately, madly : so madly that 
 he even now doubts" whether it was not a species of madness 
 that strange, wild infatuation ! 
 
 " He approached her, and told her rudely and carelessly, 
 as a ' gentleman ' so called speaks to an actress, that ho 
 loved her. He thought her an ordinary comedienne, such as 
 he had known in London she was not such : she was a nohle 
 girl, as pure as an angel, and as good as she was beautiful. 
 Without a moment's hesitation, she told him that there could 
 be nothing in common between them that she did not de 
 sire him to pay her attentions that she did not wish him to 
 approach her. Well, he raved and tore his hair, and suffer 
 ed dreadfully when he heard these words for he loved her 
 passionately. He left his family and became a member of 
 the company of Comedians, and offered her his hand not 
 once, but a score of times. She still refused to smile upon 
 him." 
 
 Mr. Effingham paused for a moment : again stroked the 
 mane of his horse, and went on calmly. 
 
 " One day this young man saw a rival in her presence, 
 and read in her blushes, in the tones of her voice, in her 
 eyes, that this rival was the favored one. That drove him 
 mad, and he felt that thenceforth all was lost to him : spite of 
 his love, spite of his abandoning all for her, spite of his devo 
 tion, she was not even indifferent to him he saw. She trem 
 bled at his approach as the dove does when the hawk ap 
 pears : she shrunk from him with aversion. You may 
 imagine, sir, that this added to his infatuation a thousand 
 fold : it rose to such a height, his passion and consequent 
 suffering was so dreadful, that one day he placed the muzzle 
 of a pistol to his brain and might have killed himself, had 
 not God ordained that he should live. God interposed, and 
 for a moment, a single moment, he was calm, for a moment 
 3nly, however." 
 
 Again the young man paused, and the Captain saw his 
 eyes wander. He continued : 
 
 " God had ordained further, sir, that his own act should 
 16
 
 34 TWO ENEMIES, 
 
 reveal the secret of the young girl's birth, a strange history 1 
 and by so doing he gave his rival a new and stronger hold 
 upon her. He was thenceforward her blood relation legal 
 ly and morally bound to protect her. 
 
 " You may understand now how that unfortunate man's 
 passions were worked up to the point of desperation. He 
 loved a woman with a species of infatuation ; he had given 
 up every thing for her : she was about to be torn from him 
 by a successful rival. Is not that a powerful combination 
 of unfortunate circumstances, sir ? Well, this combination 
 was what assailed that man in a weak moment. By one of 
 those accidents which seem to be produced by the direct 
 agency of the Devil, the tools of a mad scheme appeared 
 upon the tapis. Two boatmen desperate characters, and 
 ready for any mischief came to say that the young man's 
 new sail-boat was waiting in the river at that moment his 
 design was conceived : Yet he determined to give the young 
 girl a last opportunity to save herself and him." 
 
 Captain Ralph saw a shadow cross his companion's brow, 
 and pitied his suffering : that suffering was very plain. 
 
 " He went to her and threw away his bitterness," con 
 tinued Mr. Effingham, calmly, " his scoffs, his taunts. He 
 opened his poor afflicted heart to her and said, ' I love you 
 I suffer cruelly I must always love you I shall die un 
 less you consent to become my wife ! ' She felt sincere 
 pity she was suffering herself she no longer looked at 
 me coldly. The young man I do not like these ' I's,' sir 
 for a moment hoped. Vain hope ! she ended with a pas 
 sionate refusal : stung by his taunts she declared that 
 nothing would induce her to wed a man like him she could 
 not, would not marry him ! He tore his bosom with desper 
 ate hands it was not the first time and rushed from the 
 room. 
 
 "In half an hour his scheme was all arranged. The 
 boatmen were directed to be ready : a venal parson was 
 near, who for a bribe of two hundred guineas promised tc 
 wed the parties without asking any questions, at a spot down 
 the river fixed on. 
 
 " The forcible abduction of the young girl, was all that 
 remained to be compassed. He raised her while she slept 
 in her chair, bore her to the ground, and carried her off !
 
 TWO ENEMIES. 35 
 
 ' He was pursued his rival was the pursuer they came 
 together on the river : the young man's confederates were 
 overcome : he was left alone, foiled, beaten, laughed at. His 
 rival raised his hand to strike the young man's sword 
 pierced his breast, Grod be thanked, not wounding him mor 
 tally." 
 
 The Captain nodded in approbation of this sentiment. 
 
 " After that the victim of infatuation of madness, I 
 may nearly say," Mr. Effingham went on, calmly, " left the 
 country, and went into foreign lands, with blood upon his 
 hands, he thought. He repented bitterly he spent days 
 and months of that suffering which surpasses all the rest 
 remorse. At length he found in time and thought some 
 alleviation, and his peace was restored completely^-can you 
 believe it, sir ? by a letter saying that his rival had re 
 covered from his wound. 
 
 " That is all, sir : except that the unfortunate man who 
 enacted this tragic drama, has returned to the scene of those 
 unhappy events with a calmer heart, a brain no longer ob 
 scured by the mists of passion and pride. That man now 
 says to the brother of his rival the man he has injured 
 ' I have repented bitterly of all this I have no pride for 
 you, none that will make me refuse this reparation of words 
 all which I have to offer I acknowledge my fault I de 
 plore the suffering which I occasioned.' 
 
 u This is what I had to say, Captain Waters," added 
 Mr. Effingham, calmly and courteously, as before, " I have 
 said it, and am content that you shall fold your arms in your 
 cloak, and refuse to touch my hand. My duty is done." 
 
 " Refuse your hand ? " said the honest soldier, " morbleu ! 
 I do nothing of the sort ! There is mine 1 I hated you 
 mortally until this moment : now I assent, and will maintain, 
 that you are a worthy gentleman I " 
 
 And Captain Waters forgetting completely all his enmity, 
 shook Mr. Effingham's hand cordially. 
 
 " You afford me a pleasure, which I have not experi 
 enced often in my life," said Mr. Effingham, with noble sim 
 plicity. 
 
 " No polite speeches 1 " said the soldier, " we understand 
 each other. A quarter of an hour ago, I would cheerfully 
 have run you through with my hanger, for your treatment of
 
 86 OLD FRIENDS. 
 
 Beatrice and Charley : I thought it was all mock gene 
 rosity, when they said this very thing you have told me, that 
 you seemed to be laboring under a sort of infatuation. Par- 
 bleu 1 they have both forgiven you long ago : why should 
 not I ? " 
 
 " I am sure you no longer regard me in the light of an 
 enemy. I have offered you an explanation which " 
 
 " Is perfectly satisfactory and convincing," said the Cap 
 tain, with his frank, jovial voice. 
 
 " Where are they now ? " asked Mr. Effingham, with a 
 slight shadow upon his brow. 
 
 " Who, Charley and Beatrice ? " 
 
 " Yes, Captain." 
 
 " Up in the mountains." 
 
 " I trust they are quite happy." 
 
 And his eyes seemed to be fixed upon that past, which 
 nad gone from him like a wild dream. He could scarcely 
 realize that those fiery passions had burned in his bosom. 
 
 " I hope, Captain Waters, that we shall meet frequently," 
 Baid Mr. Effingham, at length ; " I must leave you now, as I 
 have just arrived in Virginia. Give you good day, sir." 
 
 And bowing with the same calm air as before, Mr. Effing- 
 ham continued his way toward the Hall, while Captain Ralph 
 went in the opposite direction. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 OLD FRIENDS. 
 
 THE Elverhead chariot rolled lazily up to Effingham Hall, 
 an event which caused the sleepy-looking pointer basking in 
 the sun upon the portico, to rise and wag his tail, in sign of 
 indolent satisfaction, and well-bred welcome. 
 
 The Hall has no longer that still, slumberous, melancholy 
 air about it, we have observed upon a former occasion : in 
 deed, the very reverse is the fact. Effinghani Hall has 
 waked up with the spring and that joyous season, continu 
 ing, as in Shakespeare's time to " put a spirit of youth in 
 everything," has touched with its merry and joyous hand the
 
 OLD FRIENDS. 3? 
 
 trees, the grass, the very gables of the old manor-house, and 
 all is bright and cheerful. 
 
 The tall old trees, with their tender budding leaves, are 
 rustling in the merry winds of March : the sunshine lies 
 -like a glory on the great portico ; and the lawn, growing al 
 ready green and soft, is dotted with a thousand flowers which 
 ~aise their bright heads and smile, or cheerily shake the 
 lew diamonds from their gay petals when the breeze agitates 
 them. 
 
 From tree to tree dart the early songsters of spring, mak 
 ing the air vocal with their chirping : and it is very plain 
 that more than one courtship is going on in the tall elm yon 
 der, from which a concert by delighted blue birds' artists, 
 incessantly fills the air. They are no longer " prophesying 
 spring," as our poet says : their prophecy is fulfilled, and 
 they are rejoicing like so many able editors, who have fore 
 told events and seen them come to pass. The oriole carols 
 too, above them all, from his high spray, which, swaying back 
 ward, forward, sideways, in the wind rocks his bright gurg 
 ling throat and ruffled feathers gaily. A thousand little 
 swamp sparrows flit about : and bear up twigs from the 
 margin of the sparkling stream : and dart after each other 
 in excess of glee ; and almost tumble over each other in the 
 blue mid air, from pure merriment. 
 
 Dozens of negroes ranging from little ebon balls, clad 
 in unmentionable costumes, to the stately white-haired Catoa 
 and Dinahs pass about from out-house to out-house: 
 horses are led in long rows from the huge stable on the hill, 
 toward the field : dogs roll and bark and meditate with 
 staring eyes upon the lawn : and in the midst of all a flock 
 of dignified geese ambulate like great seigneurs with their 
 wives, and startle with their cackle all the stately, serene 
 peacocks, who with brilliant plumage and restless movement 
 of their burnished necks sail slowly onward bright-crested 
 swans upon an emerald sea. 
 
 And pleasanter than all more excellent to hear and look 
 upon, are the sights and sounds from the Hall itself. 
 
 From the open window comes the merry murmur of the 
 harpsichord and a child's voice full of tender grace ; adding 
 a splendor to the time the perfect merriment which nothing 
 ever affords but music. And then the music stops, and there
 
 38 OLD FRIENDS. 
 
 appears upon the portico the burly figure of our old acquaint' 
 ance, the squire, who finds his skirts suddenly grasped ty 
 laughing hands, and two merry eyes, as azure as the heavens, 
 laugh like the lips. 
 
 The squire is in exuberant health, and is clad just as we 
 have seen him before. His broad plain hat, which has lost 
 its loops and is rolled up shovel fashion, covers a face red 
 dened and embrowned by exercise and exposure : his huge 
 coat brushes against his strong thick silk stockings, which 
 disappear in heavy half-boots : and his long waistcoat is 
 nearly covered by his frill, soiled now like his wide cuffs and 
 stockings, with the dust of his fields. The squire has just 
 -eturned from his morning ride over the plantation, and has 
 oeen listening to Miss Kate Eflmgham performing upon the 
 harpsichord, and singing one of his favorite airs. She now 
 holds him back by the skirts, begging him to wait for her. 
 
 This young lady may possibly still dwell in the reader's 
 recollection. She has scarcely changed at all since we saw 
 her last, and is positively not a bit larger. She is the same 
 bright little creature with sparkling eyes, and rosy cheeks, 
 and crimping laughing lips which are the color of cherries, 
 and reveal when their owner laughs, a row of small teeth, 
 much whiter than pearls, if not so rounded and regular. 
 Kate is dressed almost exactly as we have seen her formerly. 
 Her hair is still unpowdered, and falls in curls upon her 
 neck, around which extends a foam of snowy lace. Her 
 half-frock half-coat, with its embroidered velvet under-vest 
 still abbreviates itself after the fashion of the time in 
 close proximity to the knee : and the same scarlet silk stock 
 ings, plunge themselves into the identical resetted, red- 
 heeled shoes. Kate is perhaps merrier than we ever saw 
 her, and when she demands that the squire shall wait for 
 her before proceeding to assist the visitors from the carriage, 
 there is a violent contention between laughter and the faculty 
 of articulation, which results in a rush and jumble of the 
 two, which puts the merriment of the blue birds to such 
 shame that they are silent, 
 
 " Q-ood morrow, neighbor," says the squire, assisting 
 Henrietta and Clare to the ground, with the elegance of a 
 perfect courtier ; " and you my little mice, how are your 
 small selves ?"
 
 OLD FRIENDS. 9 
 
 With which the squire squeezes Henrietta's hand, until 
 ihe screams. 
 
 " Thanks, sir," says the laughing girl ; " I was much 
 better before I saw you ! " 
 
 And she shakes her hand, upon which the old gentleman's 
 fingers have left distinct white marks. 
 
 " You are not fond of having your hands pressed ? " 
 laughs the squire. 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 " By an old fellow like me, I mean and I take your 
 reply as given to the whole question. Well, well, I believe 
 you are right. I ain rather an ancient cavalier, but the sight 
 of you young folks, all roses, pleases me." 
 
 " That is my failing, I believe," says Henrietta, laughing, 
 but not Clare's." 
 
 " No," says the squire, " and I am sorry to see your 
 cheeks so much like lilies, Clare." 
 
 Clare smiles. 
 
 " You know that is my style, sir," she replies, " I never 
 had a bright color, but I am quite well" 
 
 " And as good as ever, I do not doubt," says the squire, 
 as they enter the mansion pleasantly. 
 
 " And me, sir does that apply to me ? " says Henrietta, 
 laughing. 
 
 " No, madam." 
 
 " I am ' as bad as ever,' I suppose." 
 
 " I hope not ! " says the old gentleman, delighted at hip 
 witticism. 
 
 " Thanks, sir," Henrietta replies, with exquisite demure- 
 ness, " thanks for an excellent character. And now I am 
 going to leave you and papa to discuss your deeply inter 
 esting plantation affairs, and take off my hood." 
 
 " By all means. I cannot see your pretty face now : 
 and Clare is as bad, see ! I believe she cannot kiss Kate 
 for her huge coiffure." 
 
 And the squire, laughing gayly, leads the way into the 
 library, followed by Mr. Lee leaving the young ladies in 
 the hands of Miss Alethea, who has just emerged from the 
 kitchen. 
 
 Miss Alethea looks more placid and good-humored than 
 when we knew her formerly, though her stateliness has not
 
 40 OLD FEiENDS. 
 
 in the least changed : and she comes forward and kisses 
 in Virginia fashion, both the girls. Then they are led awaj 
 to the sanctum up stairs to remove their wrapping, and make 
 their toilettes for dinner. 
 
 Seated in the library, the old gentlemen discuss matters 
 in general, over a decanter of sherry : and dispute with the 
 utmost vehemence, on the most trifling matters, in the good 
 old way. Both are fortified in their opinions as a matter of 
 course, and they deplore each the other's prejudices and 
 unreasonableness. But let no one suppose that these word- 
 quarrels were not the most friendly contentions imaginable 
 There were no better friends in the world, and they were 
 only pursuing the immemorial habit of Virginians to discuss, 
 contradict, and argue on all occasions. 
 
 Some of these contradictions are amusing, and rather 
 vague. 
 
 " The fact is, my dear sir," says Mr. Lee, philosophically 
 smoothing down his waistcoat, " the fact is that after all we 
 have said, and after all that can be said on this point, things 
 are" 
 
 ' I deny it 1 " says the squire, vehemently, " they are 
 not ! " 
 
 " But listen now," continues Mr. Loe, with a persuasive 
 and earnest voice, " you are too quick. I was going to say, 
 and I think you will coincide with me you ought to, if you 
 do not : I was going to say that the present state of this 
 country is such that these men will " 
 
 " No ! I join issue with you there," interposes the squire, 
 argumentatively, " they will do no such thing, and I am 
 surprised to hear you say it ! " 
 
 " I have not said it yet 1 " 
 
 " You have." 
 
 " What have I said ? " 
 
 " You said, that considering the present state of Ens 
 land" 
 
 " No i of this country." 
 
 "You said England!'' 
 
 " Positively I did not." 
 
 And so the argument goes on, thick set with contradic 
 tions and dogmatical assertions. 
 
 At laat the worthies having glided gradually from the
 
 OLD FRIENDS. 41 
 
 rude highway of politics, into the pleasant paths of neigh 
 borhood gossip the conversation grows quite friendly and 
 placid again, and there are no more contradictions : those 
 weapons being made use of exclusively in polemics. They 
 talk of the races to be held soon at the course between Wil- 
 liamsburg and Jamestown: of the probable entries: of 
 the amount of subscription, and the chances of Sir Archy's 
 overcoming Fair Anna or Dare Devil. From this they pass 
 to county court matters, and the demoralizing effect of the 
 absence of game-laws. This leads the squire to descant at 
 length, and in a tone of indignant reprehension, upon the 
 course of the defendant in a certain chancery suit, by the 
 style of " Effingbam et al. vs. Jonas Jackson, sheriff of 
 York county, and as such, administrator de bonis non, with 
 the will annexed, of John Jones, dec'd." This affords the 
 squire an opportunity to express his opinion of the high court 
 of chancery, which he does at some length, and with refresh 
 ing frankness and directness. 
 
 So completely absorbed is the worthy gentleman in this 
 interesting subject, that he quite loses sight of a piece of 
 information which he has been on the point of giving his 
 visitor, for some moments. Let us leave him vituperating 
 the whole system of equity, and enter the adjoining apart- 
 ment the drawing-room from which the merry music of 
 the harpsichord is heard. Perhaps we shall be able to find 
 out from others the nature of this intelligence. 
 
 Clare sits at the harpsichord playing, and little Kate, 
 perched upon a cricket at her side, is turning over the leaves 
 of the music while Miss Alethea and Henrietta exchange 
 neighborhood gossip, near the opposite window. 
 
 Clare finishes the piece she is playing, and turning her 
 quiet, good-natured face toward Kate, says, smoothing back 
 the child's locks as she speaks : 
 
 " Is that the piece you wished me to play, Katy ? " 
 
 " Oh yes," says Kate, her eyes sparklir\g, u and now 
 you mustn't play any more for I have a great piece of news 
 to tell you ! " 
 
 And the child's eyes fairly dance, as she draws a letter 
 from beneath her girdle. 
 
 " A great piece of news ? " asks Clare, with a smile, 
 " what is it, pray ? "
 
 " Guess 1 " says Kate, covering the letter with her hand 
 
 " I am afraid I am a poor hand at guessing, dear," re 
 plies Clare. 
 
 " Can't you think ? " persists Kate, with a joyous rush 
 of laughter in her voice : for if Kubini had tears in his 
 voice, it may be said that Kate had laughter in hers : 
 14 can't you think now, cousin Clare just try, now." 
 
 " Well," says Clare, smiling at the brilliant face of the 
 child, " has Will written you a love letter, and asked your 
 hand?" 
 
 " No, indeed," Kate replies, pouting like a duchess, u he 
 asks me to marry him twenty times a day." 
 
 " Indeed ! 
 
 " Yes, indeed : he's a dreadful plague. But come, now 
 cousin Clare, guess again." 
 
 " Let me see : you have a letter, that is plain." 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " And this letter contains the news ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes, cousin Clare." 
 
 " Good news ? " 
 
 Oh yes, indeed 1 " 
 
 " Of what sort ? " 
 
 " Oh ! now that would be telling you, you know. But 
 I'll see if you can guess it then. Somebody's coming I " 
 
 And Kate's eyes dance again : while a shadow suddenly 
 passes over the tender face of her companion. 
 
 " Somebody coming ? " murmurs Clare ; " I think I 
 can guess now " 
 
 " I knew you could 1 " 
 
 " Mr. Emngham is coming back ? " 
 
 " Oh yes ! cousin Champ 1 See, here is his letter from 
 London. Look, what a funny mark upon it : he says he 
 will be here early in April, and this, you know, is the first 
 week of March." 
 
 And Kate clasps her hands. 
 
 " Shall I read it ? " she says. 
 
 Clare shakes her head sadly. 
 
 " Then you may yourself, cousin," says Kate, offering 
 the opened letter ; " I know cousin Champ wouldn't care 
 for your seeing it." 
 
 But Clare puts the offered letter aside with her hand.
 
 OLD FRIENDS. 43 
 
 " Well, if you don't like to read it, you can listen just 
 to this. He says he may be here even sooner than April. 
 Just think ! We'll have the dear old fellow back so soon, 
 and he'll have so much to tell me," adds Kate, with a 
 queenly little air ; " you know how much we love each oth 
 er." 
 
 Suddenly the letter is removed from Kate's hand, and 
 the voice of a youthful gentleman, who has entered unper 
 ceived, says petulantly : 
 
 " There you are, praising brother Champ again. It is 
 really vexatious, Kate." 
 
 And Mr. Willie Effingham looks mortified and indig 
 nant. This young gentleman has scarcely changed more 
 than Kate, and is clad at present in a handsome little pearl- 
 colored cocked hat, resetted shoes, a coat with a rounded 
 skirt, and a bright scarlet waistcoat. His right hand grasps 
 a riding whip, and on the floor at his feet lies a school-book, 
 which he has dropped to take possession of the letter. 
 
 " It is really too bad," says Will, allowing Kate to re 
 possess herself of the letter, without much struggling ; " I 
 believe you're in love with brother Champ." 
 
 " I am so," says Kate, " and you're jealous, Willie 1 " 
 
 With which words the young lady laughs, to the great 
 annoyance of her cavalier. 
 
 " Jealous, am I ? " says Will ; " that's all the thanks I 
 get for giving up the game of Prisoner's base after school, 
 and coming home to see you. Never mind 1 " 
 
 And Will shakes his head. 
 
 " Did you, now ? " asks Kate, touched by this piece of 
 devotion. 
 
 " Yes, I did." 
 
 " Well, let's make up, Willie." 
 
 " Then give me a kiss." 
 
 " Indeed I wont 1 " cries Kate ; and she struggles to 
 avoid the proffered embrace. 
 
 " Heyday ! " says the voice of the squire at the door, 
 as that gentleman enters with Mr. Lee ; " fighting I Is it 
 possible, Will ? " 
 
 Will ceases to struggle : but abstains from any explana 
 tion 
 
 u We were not fighting, papa ; but he wanted to kiss me,
 
 44 OLD FRIENDS. 
 
 and you know it is not proper for young ladies of my age to 
 kiss gentlemen is it ? " 
 
 And Kate throws a fatal glance from her brilliant eyes 
 towards Willie, who, seeing the prize snatched from his 
 grasp, utters a sigh. 
 
 The squire laughs, and asks the child " What letter 
 that is ? " 
 
 " Cousin Champ's, you know, papa." 
 
 " Yes, yes : I was just telling neighbor Lee," the squire 
 says to Clare, " that Champ was coming back soon." 
 
 The hoofstrokes of a horse sound on the gravel walk, 
 but they do not hear them. 
 
 " He writes," adds the squire, addressing himself equal 
 ly to Clare and Henrietta, " that we may expect him early 
 in April sooner, perhaps." 
 
 A spur sounds on the portico, but the harpsichord, which 
 Clare touches softly and absently with her finger, drowns 
 the noise. 
 
 " Kate, here, has taken possession of the letter as her 
 rightful property," continues the squire, " and offers to ex 
 hibit it, I believe, to every body the little minx. Thej 
 were great friends." 
 
 The shadow of a man falls upon the passage. 
 
 " Well, I'll be glad to see the boy ; and God grant him 
 a safe passage to the old Hall again." 
 
 As the squire speaks, Kate utters a delighted scream 
 and in a moment rushes to the arms of a gentleman who 
 stands upon the threshold. 
 
 " God has already granted that, sir," says Mr. Effing- 
 ham. 
 
 And amid a burst of exclamations, he enters the apart 
 ment. 
 
 We need not describe the scene which followed the en 
 trance of Mr. Effingham : how the squire did little more 
 than press his hand, and gaze delighted on his face : how 
 Clare tried in vain to still her agitated and throbbing heart 
 how the rest of the group "verwhelmed the young man 
 with a thousand congratulations. The reader may fancy all 
 this with less trouble than we could describe it. We must 
 leave to fancy, too, tke crowd of bright-faced Africans, who 
 jostled each other at the door : the uproarious chanting of
 
 CAPTAIN RALPH LAYS HIS COMMANDS ON MR. LtfOG. 45 
 
 " Oho oho oho oho I 
 Mas' Champ come home agin 1 " 
 
 which rose from the lawn, after the fashion of the time and 
 place. 
 
 Yes, Mr. Champ, after all his weary wanderings, had re 
 turned to his good old home. 
 
 CHAPTER VII, 
 
 HOW CAPTAIN RALPH LAID HIS COMMANDS ON MB. LUGO. 
 
 LANKY 1 " 
 
 Sur ? 
 
 " You're a villain." 
 
 " Oh, Cap'n ! 
 
 " A most unconscionable villain ! " 
 
 " Oh no I ain't, Cap'n." 
 
 " You are, you rascal ! Don't contradict me 1 w 
 
 " I didn't, Cap'n." 
 
 " You did." 
 
 "I didn't, Cap'n." 
 
 " There is a pretty proof of it : you are contradicting 
 me now, you villain ! I'll cut off your ears 1 " 
 
 " Oh, Cap'n ! " 
 
 And Lanky raises his hand affectionately toward his au 
 ricular appendages, with a dreadful conviction that their 
 size and prominence would render them an easy prey to the 
 enemy. 
 
 Captain Ualph addressed the above emphatic words to 
 Mr. Lugg two or three days after the scones which we have 
 just described. The worthy soldier was sitting after break 
 fast, with a meerschaum between his lips, with his feet in 
 close proximity to the hook fixed in the beam above the 
 great fireplace of his mansion. From time to time, clouds 
 of snowy smoke would issue from beneath his huge mous 
 tache, and rise in circles to the rafters overhead, upon which 
 the red beams of the morning sun reposed, turning the 
 dusty timbers into bars of gold. 
 
 Lanky sat as usual, in his chimney corner, and from time
 
 46 CAPTAIN RALPH LAYS HIS COMMANDS ON MR. LUGO. 
 
 to time touched furtively the strings of an old battered rio 
 tin, which lay upon his knees : gazing all the while into the 
 blaze, which drove away the cool river mist with its crack 
 ling laughter. 
 
 The Captain looked at his retainer for some moments in 
 silence, after the outburst we have faithfully chronicled 
 above ; then added : 
 
 " Play that reel again " 
 
 Aiid the Captain, stopping to smoke a moment, Lanky 
 raised his violin with alacrity to obey his master's bidding. 
 
 " If you dare, you rascal ! " finished the Captain, 
 whose sentence had been broken off in the middle. Lan 
 ky 's arm subsided immediately, and the fiddle fell back to 
 its former position on his knees. 
 
 " Raly, Cap'n," said Lanky, scratching his head, " no 
 body can't please you. Now you know you told me, bein 
 as you gin me a holiday to-day, to bring out my fiddle and 
 scrape for you. And now," added Lanky, with an injured 
 air, " you're a tellin' me that I dasn't play no more. Oh, 
 Cap'n ! 
 
 And after this stereotyped protest, Lanky remained si 
 lent. 
 
 " I told you to play, because I wanted to hear music, 
 parbleu 1 " said the Captain, " but that was a quarter of an 
 hour ago. I have changed my mind. I don't believe you 
 are much of an artist, with all your distinguished reputation 
 in the neighborhood. You scrape horribly, and your in 
 strument is an awful one." 
 
 Lanky, though deeply hurt and indignant at this double 
 attack on his violin and his reputation, did not answer. 
 " Oh, Cap'n 1 " was all that his muttering lips enunciated. 
 
 At the end of ten minutes, Captain Ralph laid aside 
 his meerschaum, and stretched his legs. 
 
 " Lanky," he began. 
 
 " Sur ? " 
 
 The Captain paused for some moments, yawning. 
 
 " When did you see Donsy Smith ? " he asked, at length. 
 
 Lanky started. 
 
 " Oh, Cap'n," he said, " I ain't seen that ere young 
 'ooman for a month o* Sundays." 
 
 " Have you quarrelled ? "
 
 CAPTAIN EAL PH LAYS HIS COMMANDS ON MR. LDOO. 47 
 
 " No, sir." 
 " A rival ? " 
 
 Lanky groaned. 
 
 " What horrible sound was that which issued from your 
 diaphragm, you villain ? " asked the Captain. 
 
 " I never said nothin', BUT." 
 
 " You sighed." 
 
 " Did I, Cap'n ? " 
 
 " Yes, and do you know what these ' heighos ' mean ? " 
 
 He'o's, sur ? " 
 
 " These sighs, you rascal ? " 
 
 " No, sur." 
 
 " They signify that one is deeply smitten by some an 
 gelic fair one. Eh ? do you understand ? " 
 
 " I think I does, sur." 
 
 " When I said ' have you a rival ? ' you sighed, or rather 
 groaned. Now I understand from that, that you are far 
 gone." 
 
 " Oh, Cap'n." 
 
 " Come, now, you have a rival ? " 
 
 " I b'lieve I has," said Lanky, piteously, but beginning 
 to saw his head from north-east to south-west, according to 
 his habit. 
 
 The Captain observed this favorite manoeuvre, and be 
 gan to laugh. 
 
 " You have a rival, eh ? " he said ; " a successful one ? " 
 
 " I dun'no, sur." 
 
 And Lanky groaned again, and sawed his head worse 
 than ever. The Captain twirled his moustache with a de 
 lighted look. 
 
 " Listen to me now, Lanky," he said, bursting into 
 laughter ; " listen to mj advice, man ami. Here you are 
 groaning and sighing, and declaring in your delicious patois 
 that you have not seen your dulcinea for ages : you are 
 plainly in high dudgeon, and have abandoned the field. 
 Now, sir, hear what I have to say. No retainer of mine 
 shall disgrace me by succumbing to a woman laying down 
 his arms because the bastion frowns with guns, instead of 
 being wreathed with flowers. Tonnere ! you villain, it is a 
 personal slight upon myself, and I won't have you give up 
 in this way to your little Donsy, who is only coquetting with 
 you 1 Do you hear, sir ? "
 
 48 CAPTAIN RALPH LAYS HIS COMMANDS ON ME. LUGO. 
 
 "What kin I do, Cap'n? I can't do nothin," sighed 
 Lanky. 
 
 " There it is, again with your eternal groaning I Be a 
 man, you rascal, or, parbleu ! I'll hang you by the legs to 
 the rafters ! " 
 
 Lanky started at this terrible threat, and took a bhd's- 
 eye view of matters, coming to the irresistible conclusion 
 that the posture suggested by his master would not only be 
 disagreeable, but would have the effect of adding a new and 
 undesired charm to the landscape. 
 
 " Oh, sur ! " he ejaculated. 
 
 " Now listen," said the Captain, " and do not sit there 
 moaning and groaning, sighing and crying, when as a brave 
 man you should buckle on your sword figuratively speak 
 ing and advance upon the enemy. What is that ejemy ? 
 That, morbleu ! is the first question with every courageous 
 and rational soldier. In the present instance -a woman i 
 young woman, or as you say in your barbarous dialect- 
 ' young 'ooman.' Now, sir, I commence by laying down the 
 proposition that every member of the fair sex may be over 
 come by well-directed and courageous generalship. They 
 of course, despise a mere sighing, lachrymose lover, with his 
 heart in his hand, and a propensity for moonlight and solil 
 oquy : basta I I am throwing away my philosophy on youi 
 thick head ! What do you know about soliloquies and 
 moonlight ! " 
 
 And the Captain paused. 
 
 " I dori t know nothin' 'bout slil'kees," observed Lanky 
 " but I hunts 'coons by moonlight, sometimes." 
 
 " You unsentimental villain ! " said the soldier, " are 
 you not ashamed of yourself, to mix up the divine senti 
 ment with 'coons as you barbarously term it : to mingle 
 tendresse with the consideration of furs I " 
 
 " You was goin' to give me some advice, Cap'n," said 
 Lanky, desirous of averting the Captain's indignation. 
 
 " Well, you villain : in place of advice, I give you com 
 mands 1 I command you to resume offensive operations im 
 mediately, and yield not one point." 
 
 Lanky looked dubious : these generalities were plainly 
 distasteful to him, since he did not very clearly comprehend 
 their meaning. ,
 
 CAPTAIN RALPH LAYS HIS COMMANDS ON MR. !UOG. 49 
 
 " Oh, Cap'n ! I dun'no what that means," he said. 
 " It means this, you villain ! When Donsy or any other 
 young lady endeavors to turn you around her thumb, to 
 make you do just as she desires, to wheedle, and coax, and 
 bring you over resist, morbleu ! Yield not a single point, 
 as I said before ! never yield a point to one of the fair sex , 
 for observe, you pine knot ! the ambitious desire to rule in 
 these enchanting creatures, closely resembles a body of wa 
 ter pent in by a dam. Give it but one little point to issue 
 through, and diable ! it rushes on, and carries all before it. 
 Never yield to women it is a bad precedent : respect them, 
 love them, fight for them, die for them, but never yield to 
 them, you unreasonable villain ! En avant ! with a brave 
 heart, and without thought of surrender : ask no terms, 
 yield in nothing : refuse to see brilliant eyes, to listen to 
 coaxing words ; close your heart obdurately, and victory is 
 yours ! Bah I " continues the Captain, " here am I advis 
 ing you as to your course, when the first advice should be 
 to show your nose to your sweetheart : how can she respect 
 such a lover. As your master, sir, I command you to go 
 and make yourself agreeable to your sweetheart, and not 
 disgrace me by giving up the battle in this way." 
 Lanky touched the violin absently. 
 " But how kin it be done, Cap'n ? " he said. " I ain't 
 giv' up : I never intends to giv' up 1 But oh, Cap'n, when 
 a feller feels all sorts o' ways, how can he make hisself agree 
 able ? " 
 
 The Captain laughed heartily. Lanky took courage at 
 this, and continued, sawing his head : 
 
 " I ain't a goin' to giv' up ! No I ain't 1 He's too 
 young for her, and 'sides, he ain't as good lookin' as I am." 
 " Who your rival ? " 
 
 " Yes, sur." 
 
 ' Who is he ? " 
 
 1 Will Efii'um." 
 
 The Captain burst into a tremendous laugh, 
 
 4 What, that little fellow, Lanky ? " he said. 
 
 4 Yes, sur." 
 
 4 Morbleu ! you astonish me." 
 
 4 You know Donsy goes to school to the parson, w, 
 ind so does Will Efn'um.'
 
 50 ICHABOD. 
 
 " There near town ? " 
 
 " Yes, BUT." 
 
 " Well, now, I command you to enter the field at once, 
 and prosecute hostilities," said the Captain. " Go, you ras 
 cal ! I give you a holiday." 
 
 Lanky rose, with his fiddle under his arm. 
 
 " Won't your honor want your horse 'i " he said, scratch 
 ing his head. 
 
 " Yes morbleu ! I forgot. I must go and fight G-latz 
 for mon ami over there. Saddle Selim." 
 
 " Yes, sur." 
 
 And Lanky went out. In a quarter of an hour Captain 
 Ralph was riding towards Riverhead, singing merrily one 
 of his numerous repertory of camp ditties ; and Lanky, 
 having first smoothed his hair, by means of a coarse comb, 
 and a triangular bit of looking-glass, was proceeding, with 
 his violin under his arm, toward the town of Williamsburg. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 ICHABOD: A HEBREW WORD SIGNIFYING THE GLORY HAB DE 
 PARTED 1 
 
 WE shall follow Lanky. 
 
 He threaded the paths of the forest, traversed the tracts 
 of waste land, and hit the points where the brooks were 
 crossed by logs, stretched for the convenience of pedestrians 
 from bank to bank, with unerring precision. No doubt 
 those moonlight but not sentimental excursions dis 
 coursed of to the Captain, had made him familiar with all 
 the devious ways of the country ride ; and so ere long he 
 drew toward the school-house, which was situated in an open 
 glade of the forest between Williamsburg and Effingham 
 Hall. 
 
 The " old field school," as these establishments have 
 been called from time immemorial, was a plain edifice of 
 logs of some size, and roofed with boards held in their places 
 by long poles pinned to the eaves by huge pegs. The win 
 dows were small, and secured by shutters of oak, heavy and 
 creaking on their hinges. A log served for a step before
 
 ICHABOD. 0* 
 
 the half open door, and from the chimney, which was of 
 stone, and built up outside of the edifice, a slight curling 
 smoke rose. To these schools, as at the present day, chil 
 dren of all ages and classes, and of both sexes, resorted 
 for education, their parents thought, for amusement, the 
 youngsters were convinced. 
 
 But Lanky sawing his head, and picking absently on 
 the strings of his violin did not look at the school-house, 
 as he approached. His eyes -were fixed upon the groups of 
 scholars of both sexes scattered through the glade in merry 
 play and particularly upon one group, in the centre of 
 which stood, with laughing eyes and ruddy cheeks, half cov 
 ered by the owner's sun-bonnet, a young girl of some six 
 teen summers. Lanky's sudden accession of rapidity in the 
 sawing operation, plainly betrayed his secret. That was the 
 lady of his heart, and his admiring eyes surveyed with true 
 lover minuteness, her neat plain drese, her careless locks of 
 glossy black, and the firm little foot in its plain strong shoe. 
 
 Miss Smith was, as we have said, the centre of a group 
 of maidens and these maidens were gazing with delight 
 upon a parcel of youngsters, who, ranged in a long row with 
 their faces towards Lanky, listened to the oracular observa 
 tions of their chieftain, whose back was thus turned toward 
 our friend. The youngsters were clad in semi-military cos 
 tume, with paper hats, girdles of fluttering ribbon ; and 
 each one carried martially erect upon his shoulder, some 
 thing to represent a gun whether that something chanced 
 to be a hickory stick, a portion of a fence rail, or a corn 
 stalk. The corn-stalks, however, predominated, and seemed 
 to be the favorite weapon. 
 
 The young chieftain was clad with something more of 
 pretension : he wore epaulettes, at his side hung a tin sword 
 gracefully, and on his head was perched a conical hat made 
 of the paper which had once enveloped a loaf of sugar 
 now decorated with ribbons, and sacred to Mars. 
 
 The chieftain held his head erect, and addressed his ob 
 servations to the company, with great importance, though 
 many of the troop were his elders. As we have said, the 
 young maidens stood looking up, and encouraging the sol 
 diers with their smiles ; upon the conviction, it would seem, 
 that being handsome, chivalric, and brave, they deseived the 
 approbation of the fair.
 
 52 ICHABOD. 
 
 This was the state of things, as nearly as we can describe 
 it, when Lanky sauntered up, with his violin under his arm. 
 No sooner had the young maidens caught sight of the well 
 known pine knot head, the ornamental stockings, the huge 
 shoes, above all, of the battered violin, than they abandoned 
 the youthful disciples of the god of war, and ran precipi 
 tately towards Lanky, crying out as they ran, for a tune and 
 a dance. 
 
 * Oh yes ! now, Lanky 1 " 
 
 " Play us a tune 1 " 
 
 " A reel ! " 
 
 " Let us have a dance." 
 
 " Not a reel ! " 
 
 " A May dance ! " 
 
 " Both ! " 
 
 And Lanky suddenly found himself assailed by a dozen 
 maidens, and ordered to strike up immediately. In propor 
 tion to Lanky's popularity, and satisfaction therefrom, was 
 the neglect and excessive dissatisfaction of the youthful 
 soldiers. The smiles of ladies fair, are proverbially valu 
 able to gentlemen of the military profession ; and the reader 
 may imagine the feelings of the cornstalk regiment, and 
 their proud commander, at finding themselves thus abruptly 
 deserted, with all their shining graces, for a common coun 
 try bumpkin, with a caricature head, a battered violin, and a 
 pair of feet which were beyond the power of pen or pencil 
 to exaggerate. 
 
 The youthful chieftain, whom we now beg leave to intro 
 duce, as Captain William Efiinghani, " of the Cornstalk 
 Company of Virginia Volunteers," his enemies added Mr. 
 Willie Effingharn was perhaps the most indignant of all. He 
 had just commenced a splendid and stirring oration, which 
 dealt in tremendous denunciation of the acts of Parliament 
 and King George, in relation to the colony of Virginia, and 
 finding himself the centre of a circle of admiring auditors, 
 had branched out with a vigor and splendor of rhetoric, 
 which was calculated to procure his arrest as a dangerous 
 and inflammatory rebel, when the untoward event which we 
 have just related, happened. To add to his mortification, 
 his own sweetheart, as he called Miss Donsy Smith, had 
 joined the deserters j she had been listening V) his oratioo
 
 ICHABOD. 53 
 
 with admiring attention, he thought : he was doing the he 
 roic in presence of his ladylove and now, for all this, to be 
 abandoned without hesitation, for the aforesaid country 
 bumpkin. It was horrible ! 
 
 Lanky resisted the entreaties of his maiden friends, and 
 sawed his head more vigorously than ever at Donsy. 
 
 " Now, Lanky!" said that young lady, with an expres 
 sion of coquettish entreaty, " I know you won't refuse me ! " 
 
 " Hum ! " said Lanky. 
 
 " Now, Lanky ! " 
 
 " Miss Donsy, you ain't treated me well, and you know 
 it ! " he said, touching the strings of his instrument 
 
 " / not treated you well ? My goodness ! " 
 
 " You know you haven't." 
 
 "How, Lanky?" 
 
 " Never mind I " 
 
 " Oh, it's too bad in you," said the young lady, " to re 
 fuse me and I liking you so much." 
 
 With which Donsy darted a killing glance at poor Lan 
 ky, who felt his heart melt. 
 
 " Now, Lanky ! " she added. 
 
 But our friend remained obdurate in spite of the hun 
 dred solicitations, the cries and exclamations echoing on all 
 sides. 
 
 " Here comes Will Effin'um," he said, " he'll play for 
 you ! " 
 
 And Lanky smiled with the superiority of a great artist 
 \n presence of a mere tyro. Master Will approached, fol 
 lowed by his regiment, who had been hastily disbanded. 
 
 " What did you all run away for ? " asked Will, gloomily 
 
 " To have a dance ! " cried Donsy. 
 
 " A dance ? " 
 
 " Yes, Lanky 's goin' to play for us." 
 
 Lanky sawed his head. 
 
 " You are always coming to spoil fan, Lanky," said 
 Will, surveying his rival, " and I won't stand it." 
 Lanky fired up. 
 
 " Come now, Will I " cried Donsy, " you shan't ruin oui 
 eport Play on, Lanky ! " 
 
 Lanky remembered the Captain's advice, and refused. 
 " Oh 1 " said Donsy, in a hurt and mortified tooe.
 
 54 ICHABOD. 
 
 Lanky closed his ears, and directed iefiant glances ts 
 ward Will. 
 
 " You will not refuse Donsy ! " continued the little maid 
 en, and in a whisper, " your Donsy ! " 
 
 Lanky's heart began to succumb: his resolution wai 
 oozing out at the ends of his fingers. 
 
 " You can't, after seeing how I hurt my hand with the 
 elate Sally Jones was drawing an ugly picture of you on 1 " 
 continued the maiden, holding out a small hand upon the 
 .back of which a red mark was visible. 
 
 Lanky's resolution began to flow away; it no longer 
 oozed. 
 
 " Look how red it is ! " continued the maiden, with a sly 
 glance at her admirer, and placing the hand in his own as she 
 spoke. 
 
 Lanky's knees shook as he took it in his own. 
 
 " Really now 1 " he said, in a murmur. 
 
 " Yes, indeed and it's not the first time I've taken your 
 part for you know how much I like you, Lanky ! " said the 
 little maiden, throwing a deadly glance upon her beau, and 
 pressing his hand in her own. 
 
 Lanky forgot the Captain completely, and with a hesita 
 ting movement tuned a string. 
 
 " Please now, dear Lanky," paid Donsy, tenderly, " a 
 nice May dance." 
 
 Lanky's fiddle went to his shoulder. 
 
 " He shan't play ! " cried Will, indignant at the tender 
 ness bestowed upon his rival, " stop 1 " 
 
 Lanky with a scowl struck his violin with a vigorous 
 hand, and making his bow fly backward and forward like 
 lightning, struck up an animated tune, to which the delighted 
 girls, and alas ! the Cornstalk Regiment also, commenced 
 dancing, circling hand in hand around the pole on the sum 
 mit of which floated the regimental banner. 
 
 Will, we are compelled to say, did not really care a cop 
 per for Donsy, and he bore no real ill will to Lanky : but 
 when he found himself thus ignominously abandoned, hia 
 authority despi&ed, his rival preferred, he fell into a passion 
 and looked around him for some means of venting his 
 Wrath. 
 
 The means were not visible : alas ! his brave soldiera
 
 ICHABOD. 55 
 
 were flying madly around the pole, hand in hand with the 
 merry school girls, who with bonnets thrown upon the 
 ground, and floating hair, and merry twinkling feet, to say 
 nothing of bright eyes, and ruddy cheeks, and laughing lips, 
 were no longer conscious of any thing upon earth, but a 
 sensation of excessive delight as the landscape revolved, and 
 danced like themselves ; and the violin continued to fill the 
 air with its roaring, crashing, jubilant, rejoiceful laughter. 
 
 Will drew his sword and threw his cap upon the ground 
 Lanky continued to flash his bow across the strings re 
 gardless. Willie in a rage rushed toward him : Lanky only 
 raised his chin toward the sky, and shaking his head and 
 foot, rapturously roared on. 
 
 Will was about to charge the enemy, to vent at one fell 
 blow all his wrongs and hatred, when suddenly a bell rang 
 in the school-house, the door opened, and Lanky, with an 
 elegant bow, placed his violin under his arm and took off 
 his hat. 
 
 The master appeared upon the threshold, silent, in awful 
 state, and that master was no less a personage than our old 
 friend, Parson Tag; Parson Tag, who disgusted at the 
 slenderness and poverty of his Piedmont parish, had resign 
 ed ; Parson Tag, who had abandoned the surplice for the 
 coat of formal cut ; the prayer book for the classic ; the 
 shovel hat and the staff for the profane cocked hat and ferrule. 
 The church might have got tired of him : he forestalled 
 any disagreeable circumstances which might have attended 
 that event, by getting tired of the church : the clergy 
 might have insisted on his leaving their ranks : he avoided 
 that by leaving them himself. And now, like a great and 
 good man, the ci-devant parson bent his powerful mind to 
 teaching the young ideas of an old field school the art of 
 shooting. 
 
 The appearance of the pompous and austere gentleman, 
 at once silenced the fiddle, paralyzed the dance. 
 
 " What profane sound was that I heard ? " asked the 
 parson, looking round with an air of importance and re 
 proof. 
 
 " This here fiddle, sir," replied Lanky, with great polite 
 ness. 
 
 " Begone you son of Belial," said the parson, " and you
 
 56 A GENTLEMAN ONCE VERY POPULAR IN VIRGINIA. 
 
 boys and girls, come into school. The peiiod allotted to 
 exercise and recreation has expired." 
 
 With which words the worthy gentleman retired into 
 the school-house. The scholars trooped in Will and Donsy 
 coming last. 
 
 " Now," said Donsy, " you shall not fight : ain't you 
 ashamed of yourself, Lanky, to refuse so long to play and 
 we not have half a dance ! " 
 
 And the country beauty smiled on her admirer, until he 
 forgot the import of her words. 
 
 " You were wrong too, Will, and you know it," said 
 Donsy, u to try and break up our dance ! It was too bad ! " 
 
 And she gave her hand to Will, with a smile threw a 
 kiss with the points of her fingers to the violinist ; whisper 
 ed, " Come and see me soon, dear Lanky ; " and entered the 
 school-house. 
 
 Lanky remained staring at the door, through which the 
 dazzling vision had disappeared, in utter disregard of Cap 
 tain Ralph's philosophy and advice. The reason was, that 
 Lanky was in love. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 INTRODUCES A GENTLEMAN ONCE VERT POPULAR IN VIRGINIA. 
 
 LANKY stood for some moments gazing, as we have said, at 
 the door through which his lady had vanished, and during 
 this time his mini seemed to be engaged on some problem 
 which he could not solve. Not until a humming noise from 
 the school-house, and some merry faces at the window at 
 tracted his attention, did he become conscious of the singu 
 larity of his posture : and seeing that he was undergoing 
 that disagreeable ceremony, being laughed at, he slowly de 
 parted. As he turned away, his thoughts took words untc 
 themselves, and shaking his head, ^e murmured the profound 
 sentiment : 
 
 " These women kind are mighty hard to understand ! " 
 The expression of his opinion on this subject seemed to 
 quiet Lanky somewhat, and he took up a line of march to*
 
 A GENTLEMAN ONCE VERY POPULAR IN VIRGINIA. 57 
 
 ward home, without perceiving that he was followed by a 
 youthful individual, who had been a delighted auditor of his 
 fiddle playing. 
 
 The word ' individual,' is perhaps the best to apply to 
 the person in question, as it leaves no distinct impression : 
 any single word attempting to describe him, would miserably 
 fail. It was a something in the shape of a human being 
 about three feet high, with a large woolly head, a laughing 
 phiz, resembling in color and texture charcoal, a glittering 
 set of teeth, and a roll in its walk which seemed to indicate 
 the peculiarity known as bandy legs. This figure wore a 
 man's coat, all tattered and torn, and in consequence of the 
 wearer's smallness, the waist of the old coat was at his knees, 
 and the skirts dragged the ground. We refrain from de 
 scribing the rest of his attire, from a reasonable regard for 
 our reputation as a veracious chronicler. We can only say 
 that the garment called a tunic by the ancient Romans had 
 here reached its last degree of dilapidation : and that the 
 Gallic vesture was of that description that it cannot possibly 
 be described. 
 
 We have expended thus much description upon the figure 
 now following Lanky, because more fortunate than brave 
 men who lived before Agamemnon he has secured a poet 
 and an immortality. 
 
 The grotesque little goblin, who as we have said had 
 witnessed the exhibition of Lanky's skill with extreme de 
 light, now followed in his footsteps ; sawing his left arm with 
 his right, in imitation of the motion of the bow arm ; rolling 
 his head, chin erect, from side to side ; and executing a species 
 of dance something between the waddle of a goose and the 
 antics of a monkey. 
 
 Lanky was not aware of the honor paid to his perform 
 ance, and went on thinking of Donsy and his prospects. 
 
 * The fact is," said Lanky to himself, ' : I never ken say 
 any thing when Donsy's lookin' at me. I lose my wits 
 directly she begins to smile and talk sweet to me, and look 
 at me so ! /couldn't do what the Captain said I ought to 
 hold my head up and talk bold and free ! I can't say 
 nothing I feel so curious. What a unfortunate young man 
 I am ! " 
 
 17
 
 58 A GENTLEMAN ONCE VERY POPULAR IN VIRGINIA. 
 
 And Lanky sighed ; and went on still thinking of Donsy 
 and wholly unconscious of his ' following.' 
 
 " Now there's no use talking," he continued after a pause, 
 ' I never ken tell her how much I love her I needn't try. 
 I don't know any way to do, but to write a letter and tell 
 her all about it, though she knows it well enough now. But 
 what good would that do ? I never would have the courage 
 to put it in the office in town, and run the chance of that 
 old fellow Smith laughin' at me. Oh me 1 that would be 
 dreadful ! I could write it well enough, for Mr. Charles 
 showed me how to make my letters : but how afterwards ? 
 /couldn't have courage to hand it to her. ' What's that ? ' 
 she would say ! And then I'd feel like I wanted to creep 
 through a hole. Who could I get to send it by ? " 
 
 Lanky heard a subdued whistle, and turning his head 
 saw the boy following him, and sawing away with an accu 
 racy of imitation which was worthy of the most elevated 
 praise. 
 
 " What are you doin', Crow ? " said Lanky, " and how 
 did you get here ? " 
 
 " I git here jest so. Mas' Lanky," replied Crow, making 
 ready to jump out of the way of a blow, but sawing away as 
 enthusiastically as ever, li I been listen to you playin'." 
 
 " Idle as usual, you little monkey," said Lanky, " where 
 are you goin' ? " 
 
 " I ain't gwyne nowheres." 
 
 " Why ain't you workin' ? " 
 
 " Is'e free ; / is," said Crow, executing a pas seul. 
 
 " An idea struck Lanky all at once, that Mr. Crow might 
 act as his messenger and postman, that young gentleman 
 being a privileged character whose presence would excite no 
 more remark than that of a shadow. 
 
 Just as this idea occurred to him, they reached the high 
 way, on the opposite side of which was visible the path lead 
 ing toward the abode of Captain Ralph. Lanky raised hia 
 hand to his hat to salute a gentleman who was riding by : 
 and this ceremony was closely imitated by Mr. Crow, who 
 added the further honor of a complete ' turn about,' in the 
 process of executing which, we are sorry to say, his long 
 skirts got in his way, and he made a considerable hole in the 
 gaudy road with his head.
 
 ASPIRATIONS OF MR. JACK HAMILTON. 59 
 
 It may be readily understood, that Crow agreed to place 
 flimself completely at the commands of Lanky for a very 
 slight gratuity : we need not follow them. Let us rather 
 accompany the cavalier who had passed ; and as this will 
 lead us into company a step higher, commence another chap 
 ter. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 HOW ME. JACK HAMILTON, FOXHUNTER, AND BACHELOR, ASPIEED 
 TO THE HONORS OF A WIG, A SUIT OF BLACK, AND A GOLD- 
 HEADED CANE. 
 
 THE gentleman was our old acquaintance, honest Jack Ham 
 ilton : for by this honorable prefix was the worthy fellow 
 now almost universally known. 
 
 Mr. Hamilton had changed very little not at all we 
 might venture to say. He had reached that middle ground 
 of human life, extending from thirty-five to forty, when the 
 mental and physical organization of man seems to stand still, 
 neither increasing nor decreasing in strength, bloom, or grace : 
 when nature seems to pause upon the summit of those 
 piled up years, before descending slowly into the vale of age. 
 When a man has arrived at this point in his pilgrimage to 
 ward the other world, his eye embraces a more ample hori 
 zon, than at any former or later period. On one side lies 
 the brilliant land of youth and childhood, with its murmur 
 ing streams filling the fields with music, its myriads of deli 
 cious flowers, burdening the faint pure air with perfume ; 
 and by these streams so bright and sparkling, among these 
 flowers whose odor haunts the memory, glide forms which 
 filled with joy, and freshness, and a tender bloom, the whole 
 happy period of youth. What joy, what freshness, in the 
 bright eye and lip of the boy's sweetheart ! what a tender 
 bloom upon the cheek, which blushed with delight when 
 the loved one approached ! And farther still into that past, 
 the man's eye plunges and finds again the all-embracing 
 mother's love, the father's tenderness those things which 
 words fail to utter, leaving the heart to speak ! 
 
 And on the other side the now mature man sees stretch-
 
 60 ASPIRATIONS OF MR. JACK HAMILTON. 
 
 ing the cool and shady path of age, evironed with a thou 
 sand quiet joys, which, if they have not all the light illusion 
 and romance of youth, to gild them, still are quite as genuine 
 as the rapturous pleasures of that brilliant golden youth 
 the sunset almost shames the dawn ! And if at the end of 
 that quiet path, there stands a white stone and if to reach 
 that bourne the foot must sometimes tread on thorns, still 
 upon the marble there is carved a symbol, and a suffering 
 head, which makes the weary heart forget those thorns, bo- 
 cause they are sanctified for ever, by encircling the brows 
 carved there. 
 
 Embracing at a glance the whole horizon, extending thus 
 from childhood to old age, the man of true heart, standing 
 on the summit of manhood, does not shrink. For if the 
 bright fields he looks back upon were filled with strange de 
 lights, the path he has yet to tread is not sombre, does not 
 want for consolations if the light of dawn was fresh and 
 golden, a light streams from the Cross, cut in stone, and ri 
 sing o'er the champaign, which is far more pure. For it 
 murmurs to the spirit " Peace ! " 
 
 And now, if the reader is disposed to find fault with this 
 philosophic and meditative digression, we can only say that 
 we regret it, requesting him to pass over any future digres 
 sions of the same description. Let us then return to Mr. 
 Jack Hamilton, whose middle-aged appearance, and two or 
 three gray hairs, led us away. 
 
 Mr. Hamilton rode on composedly, and soon reached Ef- 
 fingham Hall, which was not very far, as we know, from 
 " The Trap," where the forlorn and unhappy bachelor pined 
 in single blessedness, and uproarious mirth. Mr. Efiingham 
 was standing before the fire-place in the dining-room, amu 
 sing himself by gazing through the window, at the cloud 
 shadows. 
 
 Hamilton grasped him cordially by the hand, and this 
 exhibition of friendly regard was returned with as great 
 heartiness. 
 
 " I'm glad to see your familiar face, Hamilton," said 
 Mr. Effingham, " and I do not think you have changed in 
 the least.'* 
 
 " Not a bit, I believe/' returned the fox-hunter* 
 ay George 1 yo i have."
 
 ASPIRATIONS OF MR. JACK HAMILTON. S 
 
 Mr. Effinghain looked out of the window. 
 " Are all the boys well ? " he asked at length. 
 " Yes." 
 
 " And fox-hunt as much as ever ? " 
 " More ! " 
 
 " What an easy, careless time you must have, with that 
 passion for the chase, Hamilton." 
 
 " Well, I don't know. It has its drawbacks," replied his 
 friend. "' but suits a disreputable bachelor like myself." 
 
 " It is a great thing for the blood ; I used to hunt ind 
 I can understand what you mean, by saying that it has its 
 drawbacks ; a broken arm, collar bone, or leg, for instance." 
 " I did not mean that, Champ, my boy. A good rider 
 can always avoid that but the ladies don't like it." 
 
 " The ladies ?" asked Mr. Effingham, with his habitual 
 faint smile lighting up his calm, weary face, at the mortified 
 tones of his friend. 
 
 5Tes, yes," said Hamilton. 
 Explain yourself I " 
 
 Why, Miss Alethea here, for instance." 
 Alethea?" 
 Yes." 
 
 Does she lecture you ? " 
 
 By George ! I should say she did. She never allows 
 me any rest. I never introduce the subject of fox-hunting, 
 but I am immediately informed that a gentleman of my 
 standing in the community should turn his attention to 
 other and more important matters ; for instance, the im 
 provement of the parsonage of the new and popular Mr. 
 Christian, parson of the parish, or getting together a fund 
 for supplying the unfortunate little Indians over there on 
 the river with braccce, as the Latin term is vulgo trowsers. 
 Yes, sir ! that is what makes me complain of the disadvan 
 tages of my unfortunate bachelor and fox-hunter condition. 
 But enough ; where are they all to-day 1 " 
 
 " Alethea and my father have gone over to Mr. Lee's." 
 
 " Then you are all alone." 
 
 " Yes little Kate is here somewhere, I think." 
 
 " A nice little creature, and did you have a rjleasan* 
 
 re?" 
 " Tolerably."
 
 62 ASPIRATIONS OF MR. JACK HAMILTON 
 
 " From London ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 There was a pause for some moments, at the end of 
 which time Mr. Hamilton went into a fit of laughter, and 
 cried out : 
 
 " By George, Champ ! or if that oath is getting disre 
 putable, owing to his gracious Majesty's saying and doing 
 by Jove ! here am I dying to know all about your travels 
 and according to the good old English custom, followed by 
 friends immemorially, we are dealing in the most ridiculous 
 commonplaces. Come, speak ! " 
 
 And rising, Mr. Jack Hamilton assumed, what we be 
 lieve is known as the " Virginia position," before the fire 
 that is to say, a contented and indolent attitude, with the 
 shoulders bent forward, the coat skirts under the arms, the 
 p ight leg extended at an angle of ten or twenty degrees in 
 "nt. 
 
 " I have nothing to tell about my travels," said Mr. Ef- 
 ingham, wearily, and gazing as before at the cloud shadows 
 floating over the fields. " I went, knocked about, and came 
 back that is all. What news of any consequence is there 
 in the neighborhood ? " 
 
 " None." 
 
 " There is to be a race soon, down near Jamestown ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " I think I shall go, though I take little interest in these 
 matters. Much politics talked about in the neighborhood ?" 
 
 " Politics ? there is nothing but politics talked. That 
 infernal Stamp Act is looked for every day, and the colony 
 is getting red hot. 
 
 " They are right," said Efnngham, with a slight color in 
 his wan cheek, " it is an infamous measure and I saw the 
 whole affair in London ; it will be passed." 
 
 " Let 'em take care ! " said Hamilton. 
 
 " Yes," replied his friend, growing calm again ; " you 
 rightly judge that it is an extreme test. But do not let us 
 talk politics, I have no spirits for it." 
 
 Hamilton looked at his friend curiously. 
 
 " Were your travels very dull ? " he asked. " It seems 
 to me that you have returned not much improved in vi- 
 yacity, Champ."
 
 ASPIRATIONS OF MR. JACK HAMILTON. 63 
 
 Mr. Effingham raised his eyes, making no reply. Hamii 
 ton returned his gaze, in perfect silence also, and for some 
 moments the friends looked thus at each other. Suddenlj 
 Mr. Effingham held out his hand, and said : 
 
 " Well, Hamilton, if we must touch upon that subject 
 if I speak of it I know of no man better than yourself 
 Come 1 you think I am dull spiritless with less vivacity 
 than ever ? " 
 
 " Yes," replied Hamilton, cordially pressing the hand 
 of his friend, " your cheeks are thinner and paler, your fore 
 head has the mark of thought upon it, your mouth does not 
 smile in a wholesome way. I repeat that you are less viva 
 cious." 
 
 " I was never very bright," said Mr. Effingham ; " but 
 can you not understand that there is in my case, to be esti 
 mated and allowed for, a great force, an enormous motor ? " 
 
 " A great force ? " 
 
 " That of reaction ! " said Mr. Effingham, calmly. 
 
 Hamilton had never been quick of apprehension, and it 
 must be confessed, did not understand the profound meaning 
 of these words. 
 
 " Well ? " he said, however. 
 
 Mr. Effingham paused for some moments, looking calmlj 
 through the window. 
 
 " Those clouds are very fine," he said, " and the shad 
 ows are beautiful." 
 
 Then he added : 
 
 " But I was going to speak of mysel* You wish to 
 know something of my travels, of my feelings, and all ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Well, Hamilton," continued Mr. Effingham, as calmlj 
 as before, " you are a good friend, and I need not play the 
 reserved with you, though I assure you I feel no disposition 
 to dissect my own heart. It is not a pleasant task, but it 
 can do no harm." 
 
 And after a pause of several minutes Mr. Effingham con 
 tinued : 
 
 " You will no doubt recollect the affair which created so 
 much agreeable comment in this neighborhood, a year or two 
 ago : -an affair which, commencing like a comedy, came near 
 ending a tragedy for all the actors, among whom I held, J
 
 64 ASPIRATIONS OF MR. JACK HAMILTON. 
 
 Relieve, a distinguished rank. It is not necessary for nv to 
 go over that matter for your entertainment, for I think 
 you know very nearly as much about it as I do myself: how 
 I loved with a wild and passionate infatuation a splendid and 
 fiery woman, who, from the first moment we encountered each 
 other, became my fate. You knew all that, and no doubt 
 understood the sequel : the tragedy (to return to my theatri 
 cal metaphor) requires no prologue for you." 
 
 " But in relation to that young girl who exerted so power 
 ful an influence upon my life," continued Mr. Effingham, " let 
 me say two or three words. On our first meeting, in the tall 
 forest yonder, she said, in reply to my questions, that she 
 ' was not a lady,' and in this characteristic speech lies the 
 whole explanation of what followed. Had I loved her as a 
 lady or rather, to correct myself, had I approached her as 
 gentlemen are in the habit of approaching ladies, much which 
 afterwards occurred would never have taken place. I chanced 
 to do what under any circumstances I think I should not 
 have done. I went to the theatre, and there I saw that her 
 criticism of herself was, as far as the mere letter went, strictly 
 true. She was not a lady in the ordinary acceptation of the 
 word ; and, blinded by my pride, iny love infatuation if you 
 will I continued to regard her as an actress, from that mo 
 ment to the last scenes of the affair. Do not, however, ima 
 gine that my love was any thing but the purest, after the ac 
 quaintance that I made with the rare and wonderful texture 
 of this woman's nature. No ! I loved her madly, but with 
 profound purity for I am not naturally an impure man, and 
 never adopted the revolting habitudes of the soi-distant noble 
 society of England. I have never regarded women in the 
 humbler ranks as the natural purveyors for the amusement 
 of gentlemen. I loved this girl madly, but not, for that 
 reason, coarsely : and I think, that in the course of the 
 intensely dramatic scenes we had together, I must have 
 offered her my hand more than a score of times. You see 
 how it was ; I scoffed at and taunted her, railed at her cold 
 ness, and sneered at her ' prudish airs ' as I called them : 
 but I also honored and respected her at the bottom of my 
 heart, for her purity and nobility of nature. That brings 
 me back to the few words I wished to say of this young 
 girl"
 
 ASPIRATIONS OF MR. JACK IUMIL1ON. (.tt 
 
 And, after a pause, Mr. Effingham continued, with per 
 feet calmuess, 
 
 " She was one of those rare and extraordinary natures, 
 who unite the most opposing and incompatible traits of cha 
 racter in one harmonious whole. You read this characteristic 
 in her very eyes, which melted or fired, were brilliant or dim, 
 flashed gloriously with imperious disdain, or swam in the 
 dews of tenderness and childlike innocent emotions. Upon 
 the stage she was the character she personated nothing 
 more nor less, for she completely lost her individuality, and 
 forgot the world of reality, entering free and untrammelled 
 into the brighter world of art the splendid domain of ima 
 gination. I have seen her, Hamilton, pass from emotion to 
 emotion with such a marvellous ease and strength that I 
 almost feared to approach her afterwards ; I felt, as you may 
 imagine a man would feel, were some queen or empress to 
 converse familiarly with him in disguise ; then, throwing off 
 the cloak which covered her imperial robes, reveal herself 
 in all the haughty and dazzling beauty of rank and power. 
 This young girl at home was a mere child, affectionate to her 
 coarse old father, unaffected, simple ; you would have thought 
 her rather dull at times. In her character she was the queen 
 of art, and what art was made to interpret, beauty and passion. 
 
 u You follow me, do you not ? I mean that this girl was 
 in intellect above all the women I have ever known ; in reso 
 lution more than a match for thousands of men : and with all 
 this she had the heart of a child, the innocence and purity 
 of a young girl who has never left her mother's side. You 
 may now understand how passionate my infatuation must 
 have been, for I have always experienced a powerful attrac 
 tion towards truth and nobility, and, of course, a cordial 
 respect for strong character. I loved her, and finding my 
 advances met with indifference and cold aversion, which 
 afterwards changed to passionate aversion and no little dread 
 at times, you may imagine that the fire was blown into a 
 whirlwind of flame. 
 
 " I was carried away with passion I found myself openly 
 defied I executed that exceedingly unworthy scheme of 
 abduction." 
 
 Mr. Eflingham looked out of the window at the oloud 
 shadows agaiu, and paused for some time.
 
 fi6 ASPIRATIONS OF MR. JACK HAMILTON. 
 
 " Well," he continued, at length, " after that denouement 
 I went away, you know, and you now ask me to give you 
 some account of ray travels. I cannot recall any thing which 
 makes them very interesting. It was the old tale, which we 
 sometimes read in romances ; where the despairing lover who 
 has committed some wild act which drives him from his native 
 country, seeks distraction in travel, and endeavors, by chang 
 ing hie residence incessantly, to escape the thoughts which 
 follow him as the shadow follows the body moving on. I ran 
 all over Europe went to Constantinople, Egypt, Syria ; 
 smoked abominable tobacco in Smyrna, and eat disgusting 
 macaroni in Naples. Home was rather interesting, and I 
 think the happiest portion of my time was spent among the 
 Bernese Alps, in the cottage of a herdsman, with an artist 
 from Florence, who was an excellent companion, and aroused 
 me whenever I fell into one of my fits of rage and despon 
 dency. 
 
 " I had many such fits, and suffered no little remorse ; 
 for I was uncertain whether my rival was dead or not. I 
 had no desire to kill him, strange to say, and was extremely 
 pleased to hear of his recovery by a letter received while I 
 was in Florence. You may understand from this, that by 
 force of travel and incessant novelty, my infatuation for that 
 young girl was slowly being worn down and smoothed away, 
 as the tire of a wheel is worn by the leagues it passes over, 
 and the obstacles in the track. I understood for the first 
 time then, that my madness had spent itself perforce of its 
 own violence, as a storm does, and was gone. I did not 
 grind my teeth and curse that rival, and, if the intelligence 
 of his recovery and marriage was not agreeable, that feeling 
 soon wore away. Buf, my cheerfulness (vivacity, to use your 
 own word) did not return with the disappearance of the 
 afflicting emotions which had tortured me so long. No, I 
 now began to comprehend the truth o f the dogma, that the 
 mental system closely resembles, in ith modes of operation, 
 the physical. You know that when the human I mean the 
 physical system is put under the effect of an excessive sti 
 mulant, whether that stimulant be the grape, or opium, or 
 some poison, taken in a quantity not sufficient to produce 
 death there is, for a time, an unnatural exaltation, a tre 
 mendous accession pf velocity in all the wheels of life
 
 ASPIRATIONS OF MR. JACK HAMILTON. 67 
 
 The blood rushes like a flood of fire through the veins the 
 senses become a thousand times more acute. I will give you 
 an instance, and then finish my idea. 
 
 " At Smyrna I went one day into one of those shops 
 where opium is provided for the true believers, and mats for 
 them to smoke upon, and lie extended on when the divine 
 exaltation overcomes them. I was always curious to inves- 
 tigate the causas rerum, and I wished to experience the ef 
 fects of the drug which was said to possess such extraordi 
 nary properties. Well, the old animal handed me a sort of 
 chibouque, and in a few moments I was smoking like the 
 faithful around me, some of whom were already beginning 
 to totter. As I smoked the opium, the objects in the apart 
 ment began to fade, a sort of mist waved before my eyes 
 then all disappeared, and I entered, it seemed to me, another 
 world a world so brilliant and beautiful, that any descrip 
 tion would only mar it. It is enough to say that life seemed 
 to have passed away with all its suffering, and boundless hap 
 piness in another sphere of being opened on me. My blood 
 seemed to roll on like a golden river; I could hear the 
 murmur of the waves ; my feet trod upon clouds, not earth 
 I felt as you may imagine felt the Persian Peri, in the 
 fable when she entered Paradise. 
 
 " Well, I woke up with a suicidal sensation : a desire 
 to leave the world where a man had to support the bundle 
 of nerves which were driving me to agony, with their jarring 
 and aching. A physical exaltation, you observe, had been 
 succeeded by a physical reaction just in proportion as the 
 balance descends upon one hand, because the other side rises 
 above the natural level, the normal condition. Perhaps I 
 never suffered greater physical torture, and so you have the 
 illustration, a very lame one, of my trite dogma. 
 
 " I had reached the period of my travels where the post 
 brought me that letter containing the intelligence of my 
 rival's recovery : and I was about to say that in spite of 
 this weight r/iised from my breast, I did not become cheer 
 ful again and that, because the stormy emotions I had ex 
 perienced began to react as the physical organism feels the 
 reaction of hashish or other stimulant. I was completely 
 flat, if I may use the word, and I am so now, in spite of 
 my sight seeing ; spite of all the bright eyes in Italy
 
 68 ASPIRATIONS OF MR. JACK HAMi TON. 
 
 France, England, which have shone on me and I assure 
 you that I was regarded as a very grand seigneur on the 
 continent, owing to the reasonable plumpness of my purse, 
 especially by the Italian damsels. They wearied me as 
 art, literature, plays, society of all descriptions wearied me. 
 I felt through all this that the proverb of the Preacher 
 shone like a fire that all was vanity the very vanity of 
 vanities. I grew quite calm, and am so now, as I said. 
 
 " But stay : there was an incident in London which may 
 possibly add another touch to this picture of myself under 
 going the distracting effects of a European tour : it goes 
 to show that my feelings were not quite deadened by the 
 countries, scenes, personages, I had seen the time which 
 had elapsed. 
 
 " In London, one day, I chanced to raise my eyes to the 
 door of a theatre, and I saw the names of the members of 
 the ' Virginia Company of Comedians ' the worthy gentle 
 men were to play that evening. You see they had by that 
 time returned from Virginia to England, and were figuring 
 in the humbler characters they were suited to. I know not 
 what feeling seized me, and I determined to go and see 
 them play that evening. I went, and found these men just 
 the same easy, jovial, and coarse characters which I had 
 known them to be formerly : for you know I had the honor 
 to be an accredited member of the ' Virginia Company of 
 Comedians,' and was favored with the society of these wor 
 thies. There they were now, just the same : H alia in strut 
 ted in his pompous good-humored way ; Shylock, as one of 
 these fellows was called, still exhibited an admirable bur 
 lesque of tragedy : the Virginia Company had become a 
 London Company, that was all. 
 
 " The effect produced upon me by the sight of these 
 men was singular. I seemed D go back in actual reality 
 to that former time so filled with fiery passion, with love, 
 disdain, hatred, despair. The very atmosphere seemed to 
 envelope me again that atmosphere again filled my veins 
 with fierce heat, and so powerful were these emotions, that, 
 carried away by my old fury, I drew my short sword, and 
 would have struck a gentleman who stood by me, had it not 
 been wrested from my hand. He was enraged I could not 
 explain, or rather he wo^ld not hear my vague excuse we
 
 ASPIRATIONS DF MR JACK HAMILTON. 69 
 
 fought on the next morning. But nothing caine )f it ; he 
 was a lame hand, and I disarmed him, and allowed him to 
 depart. I do not think I recovered from the effect of that 
 performance for a whole month : but it was the last mut 
 tering of the storm the tempest after that died away com 
 pletely, and I now feel convinced that nothing can again 
 arouse in me those tempestuous memories. Soon after the 
 incident I have mentioned, I left London, tired, completely 
 wearied of every thing European, and experiencing a singu 
 lar sentiment of home-sickness, which I had read of in Vir 
 gil, and many poets after him ; but had never believed in 
 before. I actually began to feel some returu of warmth in 
 my frozen breast, thinking of Virginia here the Hall my 
 father the children, and the servants. I cannot say that 
 any of my yearning the rhetorical word, I believe was 
 directed toward the ladies of the neighborhood : no, I have 
 done with women, Hamilton, and shall in future avoid them, 
 as the helmsman avoids the sunken rock, the whirlpool, or 
 the muttering storm : well, this is by the way. I was about 
 to tell you how I found that my heart was no longer subject 
 to these stormy memories ; and I proved that satisfactorily 
 to myself on my arrival after a tolerably pleasant passage 
 of two months in Virginia. 
 
 " Do you remember but you must my sojourn in the 
 old days at the Raleigh tavern ? Yes ? Well, I also re 
 member it very distinctly 1 Let me tell you how I tried 
 myself, and found that my heart was thenceforth as cold as 
 ice, and equal to any test. 
 
 " I had occupied, in those former days I have alluded 
 to, an apartment in the tavern known as number six ; and 
 she you understand had two rooms just opposite. Hav 
 ing arrived in the town from York, at which port I disem 
 barked, late in the evening, I resolved to spend the night 
 there, and I ordered the apartments formerly occupied by 
 the young girl to be prepared for me, with the direct inten 
 tion to try myself That this trial should be final and defi 
 nite, I arranged the apartments just as they had been in tbne 
 past : the first, I mean, for of the second, her bedroom, I 
 knew nothing, having never entered it. A bureau had beeu 
 removed to a different position : I changed it to its former 
 place : the slight couch was out of place : I restored it. An
 
 70 ASPIRATIONS OF MR. JACK HAMILTON. 
 
 eight-day clock ticked on the high narrow mantlepiece I re 
 moved it, and substituted the oblong mirror which had once 
 graced it leaning forward from the wall. I ordered a sin 
 gle wax-light then to be placed upon the table in the corner, 
 and went and procured a straw hat, such as she wore, with 
 red ribbon, for I remembered all perfectly; and this I 
 threw down upon the couch. 
 
 " I wandered about for an hour near the theatre, the 
 Governor's palace along Gloucester street reviving her 
 image in my mind : then as night drew on, I went to the 
 apartment paused at the door and knocked, opened the 
 door and entered. The dim wax-light threw long shadows 
 through the room, and the illusion was complete. I could 
 almost fancy that she had just passed into the adjoining 
 chamber, having thrown down her hat upon the sofa. 
 
 " Well, I sat down, smiling, and with my hand upon my 
 brow, summoned all that past, so full of brilliant and pas 
 sionate figures, and more fiery and passionate emotions, back 
 to me. I commanded those days to rise and defile before 
 me in a long glittering line ; and I went over every scene, 
 every sensation, every emotion, whether of suffering or de 
 light, happiness or anguish. I mean that I recalled them, 
 by an effort of memory, not that I really felt them. No : I 
 did not flush, and grow pale, and tear my breast, and rave, 
 as was my wont formerly : I smiled. I saw that splendid 
 passionate beauty again, but she no longer filled my heart 
 with delirious love, mad anguish : she interested me merely. 
 I felt, as you may imagine a man feels, when he is listening 
 to some fine effort of an improvisatore ; where the passions, 
 feelings, incidents, all, interest without moving you very 
 deeply, however tragic. The drama of my life was merely 
 a drama to me now : and I smiled at my old infatuation. 
 To make the drama complete, I raised the window sum 
 moned perforce of my imagination the instruments of that wild 
 and unworthy scheme ; and then, with a stealthy tread, ap 
 proached the chair which she had lain sleeping in. I saw 
 again her enchanting face, with its tender languid beauty as 
 she slept : the profuse curls upon her snowy neck, the un 
 dulations of her figure, as half reclining in the chair, she 
 drew long breaths, worn out with watching, and slumbering 
 heavily. I saw it all, and would huve smiled again at the
 
 ASPIRATIO-NS OF MR. JACK HAMILTON. 7* 
 
 comedy I was playing, had not my conscience reproached me 
 bitterly for that act : that stratagem which was so un 
 worthy of me, as it is unworthy of a man to cheat a child 
 I sat down again, and thought of her in her far mountain 
 home, the happy wife of my rival I left out no particular, 
 I tested my heart to the very bottom and what was the 
 result ? Why, indifference, Hamilton ! My infatuation 
 was dead, and I slept as soundly that night in the apart 
 ment she had moved about in like a bright sunbeam, a. 
 ever I did worn out with travel in the inns of Switzerland. 
 
 " Well, here I am now, and I am happily over all that 
 the play is played, the curtain has fallen on the whole, 
 and it is forgotten. Let it go : I went and took my part in 
 it of my own accord, and cannot complain that the fiery pas 
 sions of the drama have worn me out. I am completely 
 worn out. and there you see, I have returned precisely to 
 what I commenced with." 
 
 Hamilton had listened to this narrative in almost per 
 fect silence ; and he now remained silent for some time lon 
 ger. At length, looking curiously at Mr. Effingham, who, 
 stretched languidly in his chair, was gazing listlessly through 
 the window, the honest fellow said suddenly, with some em 
 barrassment : 
 
 " Champ, have you seen Clare Lee yet ? " 
 
 Mr. Effingham looked intently at his friend for an in 
 stant, and then turning away his eyes again, said, indiffer 
 ently : 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 Hamilton found himself at a loss how to proceed. Mr. 
 Effingham came to his relief. 
 
 " I know what you mean," he said, calmly ; " and I will 
 answer the question which you have not asked but you 
 have looked it. You mean, Hamilton, that perhaps my in 
 difference to every thing, my deadness, if you like the word 
 springs from the fact that I have not yet seen the girl whose 
 presence used to have such an effect on me. You are mis 
 taken : I have seen her, and I was perfectly calm. On the 
 day I arrived at the Hall, she chanced to be here on a visit^ 
 and when I made my appearance she was standing directly 
 in front of me, leaning on the harpsichord. Let me confess 
 that I did experience something like a distinct emotion u
 
 72 ASPIRATIONS Of HR. JACK HAMILTON. 
 
 on seeing her, but, my dear fellow, it did not last. My 
 heart is too much like a sullen lake, deep and black : it is 
 not moved by so slight a breeze and I was quite calm 
 again in a moment, and bowed low, and turned round and 
 conversed with a placidity wholly unaffected. I do not say 
 that the sight of Clare," continued Mr. Effinghani, in a 
 slightly altered tone, " did not afford me a certain degree 
 of pleasure and pain. I loved her once, and my affection 
 was of that simple, tender description, which outlasts a 
 thousand bursts of passion : for it makes up in depth what 
 it lacks in fire. But I was not deeply stirred and I think 
 I felt greater pleasure at seeing all here, than at meeting her. 
 Ah ! I think she has almost forgotten my wild vagaries a 
 good girl ! " 
 
 And Mr. Effingham, for a moment, looked less weary. 
 Hamilton was thinking of the narrative he had just listened 
 to, and endeavoring by an exertion of his not very powerful 
 mind, to arrive at the psychological significance of it. Mr. 
 Effingham came to his assistance. 
 
 " You are puzzling yourself," he said, with a languid 
 smile, " to make out what I am, Hamilton. What is the 
 sum total of all these various emotions, conflicting passions ? 
 I will tell you. It is weariness, indifference, and content, if 
 I may be allowed thus to couple what see.n to be incompati 
 ble things. I assure you that I care for nothing in the 
 world. I love the family, I am fond of the Hall here ; but 
 these feelings are not very strong. As to my convictions 
 opinions, I believe in nothing, Hamilton, I care for nothing. 
 I get angry sometimes, thinking of his gracious Majesty's 
 legislation on Virginia matters ; but after all the thought 
 comes 'What is the use ? Why should I trouble myself 
 about his Majesty ? He wearies me.' As to any ambition, 
 any social or political aspiration, I have none ; it wearies 
 me, just as every thing wearied me in Europe. I played 
 whole days and nights, in Paris, and got up and kicked aside 
 the pile of cards around my ankles, with perfect indifference ; 
 I was neither elevated nor depressed by good or bad fortune, 
 and gave a check on my banker, if I lost, or stuffed the gold 
 I won into my pocket, without emotion, good or bad. I went 
 and listened to innumerable tragedies, incessant operas in 
 France and Italy ; they wearied me. I believe I fought
 
 ASPIRATIONS OF MR. JACK HAMILTON. 73 
 
 three or four times, with men I had no intention to insult 
 I left the ground after these events, with my scratches, when 
 I got any, as I came ; indifferently. I have no gallant ex 
 periences to add to this I got enough of women here, and 
 made a resolution to avoid them, to which resolution I have 
 religiously adhered. Well, you see I am worn out I be 
 lieve in nothing I take interest in nothing I do not com 
 plain I shall probably vegetate here, and become a fat, ho 
 nest squire, presiding, possibly, at county courts, and talking 
 knowingly of tobacco, and the prices of cattle and of blood 
 and so, at the appointed time, go the way of all humanity. 
 There it is." 
 
 And Mr. Effingham gazed at the fire as calmly as he had 
 spoken. Hamilton looked at him closely for some time, and 
 then said : 
 
 " Champ, you want a physician 1 " 
 
 " A physician ? " asked his friend. 
 
 Yes." 
 
 " I am not sick 1 " 
 
 " Yes you are.' 
 
 " I ? " 
 
 " Yes, you." 
 
 " Sick ? " 
 
 " Very sick." 
 
 Mr. Emngham nodded. 
 
 " Oh ! I understand you now ; " he said, " my mind you 
 fancy, is not healthy." 
 
 " I don't imagine any thing about it. By George 1 I 
 know it." 
 
 " Well?" 
 
 " Let me be your doctor ? ' 
 
 "You?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Very well," said Mr. Effingham. 
 
 " Will you follow my directions take my prescriptions ?" 
 
 " That depends wholly upon their flavor." 
 
 " Come now you retreat at once." 
 
 " No." 
 
 " If I ask nothing unreasonable ? : ' 
 
 " Will I put myself under the direction of Doctor 
 Hamilton ? " said Mr. Emugham, smiling faintly at the
 
 74 ASPIRATIONS Of MR. JACt HAMILTON. 
 
 honest fellow's earnestness ; " is that what you meant to 
 say ? 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Well, I promise that much very cheerfully." 
 
 u Good ! " cried honest Jack ; " I'll cure you, by George ! 
 and make you a jolly companion again, or I'll eat my head." 
 
 " You would have an awful indigestion," replied Mr. Ef- 
 fingham ; " but let me hear your scheme." 
 
 " No, that does not concern you ; I take the responsi 
 bility of the drugs. No cure, no pay." 
 
 " And what will be your pay, provided you succeed ?" 
 
 " The satisfaction of hearing you laugh loud enough to 
 shake the windows, and seeing you become the jolly boy of 
 former times again." 
 
 " Jack, you are the best friend I have, upon my honor, I 
 think," said Mr. Effingham. " I wish you were as excellent 
 a physician." 
 
 " Never mind ! by Jove ! we'll make the trial. And as 
 you say you do not believe in any thing, I do not ask you to 
 believe in my proficiency in the art, until you feel it. I am 
 going now to see Tom Lane. Goodbye." 
 
 " Do not go yet ; come, you are fashionable." 
 
 " No, I must go," said Hamilton, shaking hands with his 
 friend, and putting on his hat. " My horse is there I told 
 them not to take him. By Jove ! look at him ! he's a splen 
 did fellow. Did you ever see such a sweep of the loin? 
 Remember now I commence next week ! " 
 
 And whistling merrily, Mr. Hamilton departed. 
 
 " There goes a happy man, and an honest fellow," said 
 Mr. Effingham, going languidly into the library ; " an intel 
 ligent mind too. There is only one delusion under which he 
 labors he thinks he can cure me." 
 
 Mr. Effingham took his hat and cane, and strolled out on 
 the lawn. 
 
 " Very pretty, and very wearisome 1 " he said, looking 
 at the landscape. And he turned away.
 
 tHE OTHER PHYSICIAN. 75 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 FHE OTHER PHYSICIAN. 
 
 JOST as Mr. Effingham turned to enter the Hall again, woary 
 already of the lovely afternoon, spite of its azure skies, and 
 singing birds, and pleasant breezes rustling the leaves, and 
 the small brilliant flowers scattered over the lawn, he heard 
 a merry child's voice calling him, from the banks of the lit 
 tle stream which gurgled over its mossy rocks, at the foot of 
 he hill. 
 
 He looked round, and saw Kate, who was running to 
 wards him, making signs to him. 
 
 "Oh, Cousin Champ! come and look at Snowdrop!' 
 she cried, enthusiastically, as she grasped his hand and 
 turned her bright little face with its sparkling eyes and 
 laughing lips up to him ; " just come and see how pretty I 
 have made Snowdrop, please ! " 
 
 Mr. Effingham smiled, and allowed himself to be led 
 down the hill toward the stream. On the grassy margin 
 stood a young heifer, as white as snow, munching with indif 
 ferent pleasure, grass, moss, and the early flowers. Snow 
 drop, as Kate had dubbed the heifer, exhibited a most ex 
 traordinary appearance, which fact was attributable to her 
 mistress, it was very plain. The animal was decked out 
 with a multiplicity of red and blue ribbons tied in flutter 
 ing bows ; and altogether presented an extraordinarily pic 
 turesque spectacle, as she quietly, and with the air of a con 
 scious favorite, munched the flowery grass. 
 
 " Just look ! isn't she pretty ! " cried Kate, in a parox 
 ysm of delight. " Did you ever see any thing prettier in 
 all your life, now, Cousin Champ ? So ! Snowdrop, so so I " 
 and Kate caressed the white neck of the heifer, who raised 
 her intelligent head, and licked the hand of her young mis 
 tress. 
 
 " Are those the ribbons I gave you," asked Mr. Ef 
 fingham, smiling, " brought all the way, with the rest of your 
 presents, in my trunk from London ?" 
 
 *' Oh no ! " cried Kate, " I wouldn't pet Snowdrop up
 
 76 THE OTHER PHYSICIAN. 
 
 BO ! No, indeed ! I'm going to irake something nice with 
 them, something for you." 
 
 " What, pray, Katy ? " 
 
 " Why a knot for your sword hilt, or a lovely bow for 
 your coat, to wear at the party." 
 
 Mr. Effingham smiled again. 
 
 " I have done with all those vanities," he said, " and I 
 shall be very plain at the party, which it seems they are 
 bent on." 
 
 " Oh yes ! it will be so nice ; but you mustn't dress in 
 black, Cousin Champ." 
 
 " What then white and ribbons, like Snowdrop ? " 
 
 " Oh no, in blue and gold your pretty suit you know." 
 
 " Do you think Snowdrop would be handsome if she was 
 blue, and you decorated her with gold-colored ribbon ? " 
 
 Kate burst into a shout of laughter. 
 
 " Oh, wouldn't that be funny ?" she cried, shaking with 
 merriment. " What do you think, Miss Snowdrop tell me 
 now ? " 
 
 Snowdrop remained mute. 
 
 " You must teach her to converse," said Mr. Effingham. 
 
 " I believe I could ! " cried Kate, " she is so smart, and 
 good, and likes me so much. Don't you, Snowdrop ? " 
 
 And Kate paused for a reply. Instead of replying, how 
 ever, the heifer, having exhausted the spot she stood upon, 
 moved away indifferently from her mistress, and vouchsafed 
 no further exhibition of regard. She began to graze quietly 
 on the flowery margin, at some distance. 
 
 " The horrid thing ! " cried the child, " to be so ungrate 
 ful ! Well, she may go along." 
 
 Mr. Effingham smiled again. 
 
 " Tell her goodbye, and let us go in, and look at the new 
 book of engravings," he said. 
 
 " No," Kate replied, laughing, " I won't take any more 
 notice of her. Listen how the bluebirds are singing ! and 
 look at Tray, yonder, rolling on the grass ! " 
 
 They approached and entered the Hall, and Mr. Effing 
 ham took from the book-case in the library, the book of pic 
 tures. The man and the child amused themselves over it foi 
 some time, Kate sitting in his lap, as was habitual with her. 
 A.t last the volume was gone through with, and laid aside.
 
 THE OTHER PHYSICIAN. 77 
 
 Kate laid her head on Mr. Effingham's shoulder, and 
 sang in a low tone, thoughtfully. Mr. Effiugham gazed for 
 some moments quietly into the little face, and said : 
 
 " What is that you're singing, Kate V " 
 
 " ' It's hame, and its hame,' " replied the child, " I 
 didn't know I was singing." 
 
 " It is very sweet : commence now and sing it through, 
 for me. I like to hear you." 
 
 " Do you really ? " said Kate, smoothing back her hair. 
 
 " Yes, indeed." 
 
 " I'll always sing when you ask me, then ; but you know 
 I'll do any thing you want me to." 
 
 And Kate sang, in her small child's voice, and with great 
 sweetness : 
 
 " It's hame, and it's hame, and it's hame I fain wad be, 
 O hame, hame, hame, to my ain countrie ; 
 There's an e'e that ever weeps, and a fair face will be fain 
 As I pass through Annan water wi' my bonny oaad again; 
 When the flower is i' the bud, and the leat t;pon the tree, 
 The lark shall sing me hame in my ain countrie i 
 
 " Hame, hame, hame, hame I fain wad be, 
 hame, hame, hame, to my ain countrie; 
 The green leaf o' loyalty's beginning for to fa', 
 The bonny white rose it is witherin' an' a' ; 
 But I'll water't wi' the blude of usurping tyrannic, 
 And green it will grow in my am countrie! 
 
 " Hame, hame, hame, hame I fain wad be, 
 hame, hame, hame, to my ain countrie ; 
 There's nought now frae ruin my countrie can save, 
 But the keys of kind Heaven to open the grave 
 That a' the noble martyrs wha died for loyaltie, 
 May rise again and fight for their ain countrie. 
 
 Hame, hame, hame, hame I fain wad be, 
 
 O hame, hame, hame, to my ain countrie ; 
 
 The great now are gane, a' wlia ventured to save, 
 
 The new grass is growing aboon their bloody grave; 
 
 But the sun through the mirk blinks blythe in my e'e, 
 
 ' I'll shine in ye yet in your ain countrie.' " 
 
 The tender little voice ended its sweet carol, and for 
 some time Mr. Effingham was quite silent, caressing ab 
 sently, the child's small hand, which lay in his own.
 
 78 THE OTHER PHYSICIAN. 
 
 " That is a very pretty song, Kate," he 6*.d at length , 
 and in an abstracted voice he repeated : 
 
 'When the flower is in the bud and the leaf upon the tree, 
 The lark shall sing me home in my own countrie.' 
 
 That might apply to me," he added, smiling, " you know 
 that I have come back just as the larks are beginning to 
 Bing." 
 
 " Oh, yes ! " cried Kate, " and I am very much obliged 
 to the larks for singing you home." 
 
 " Then, you are really glad to see me back ? " 
 
 " How can you ask me that ? " Kate said, reproach 
 fully. 
 
 " Why are you glad ? Come, tell me," he asked smil 
 ing. 
 
 " Because I love you," said the child, simply. 
 
 " And why do you love me ? " 
 
 " Because you love me," said Kate, laughing, " isn't that 
 the best reason in the world ? " 
 
 " Indeed it is a very good reason, and is very true : but 
 come, tell me what you think of me, Kate I am anxious 
 to know." 
 
 " I can't answer that : how could I ? " 
 ' Am I good, or bad ? " 
 
 " Oh, you're good ! " 
 
 " Not very I do not think I shall ever die of excessive 
 goodness. But go on what else am I ? " 
 
 " You are kind," continued Kate, with a bright affection 
 ate look in her small face. 
 
 " Am I ? " 
 
 " Yes, indeed : to me especially." 
 
 " That's because you are such a poor little creature, not 
 jauch higher than my thumb," said Mr. Effingham, forget 
 ting his weariness, and smiling. 
 
 " Indeed I as. not," said Kate, " I'm nearly an inch 
 taller than I was last year. Oh ! you're jesting," she add 
 ed, with a laugh. 
 
 " Well, go on now, and tell me something more about 
 myself. I am anxious to know. Am I very agreeable 
 witty, amusing, entertaining ? do you *ver laugh heartily 
 when I talk to you ? "
 
 THE OTHER PHYSICIAJt 79 
 
 " No, I don't think I do : but you know you have not 
 come back very well." 
 
 " Who, I ? " said Mr. Effingham, " why 1 am the picture 
 of health." 
 
 " No, indeed you are not, cousin Champ : your cheeks 
 arc thinner and paler than I like to see them." 
 
 " My face pale thin ? " 
 
 "' Yes and it grieves me : indeed it does." 
 
 " Are you ever grieved at any thing, Kate ? I thought 
 that you were always so bright, and merry, and laughing ; 
 playing with Willie, and decking out Snowdrop, and run 
 ning about like a sunbeam incessantly, that you never stop 
 ped t,o think a moment, much less to grieve." 
 
 " Indeed, you are mistaken : I think a great deal," said 
 Kate, " I think when I am playing, and sewing, and even 
 when I am singing." 
 
 "What do you think of?" 
 
 " Of any thing of you, or papa, or myself, or mamma." 
 
 " Of your mother ? " 
 
 " Yes, cousin Champ," said Kate, quite simply, " you 
 know mamma is in heaven." 
 
 Mr. Effingham made no reply. 
 
 " But what do you grieve about ? " he asked at length. 
 " You said you grieved, Katy." 
 
 " Yes, I grieve, but not often. I grieve about you some 
 times." 
 
 " Since my return ? " 
 
 " Yes, cousin Champ, and while you were away too. T 
 didn't like you to be away for you know you were my play 
 mate." 
 
 " Yes," said Mr. Emngham. 
 
 " I had other playmates Willie and Tommy Alston, 
 and Sue Ashton, but I liked you the best : and then you 
 know I thought you couldn't be so happy across the sea as 
 here." 
 
 " I don't think I was." 
 
 " I used to want you to come back mightily : and I've 
 prayed often for you, too." 
 
 Mr. Emngham smoothed the bright little head in silence. 
 
 " You don't know how delighted I was, when your let
 
 80 THE OTHER rilYS'ClAN 
 
 ter came," continued Kate, laying her cheek on Mr. Effing- 
 ham's shoulder. 
 
 " Were you ? " he said, smiling. 
 
 " Yes, but I thought you would come back looking bet 
 ter how did you grow so pale ? " 
 
 And the child looked affectionately at the white brow, 
 and thin cheek. 
 
 " Am I pale ? " he said, " well, I must get rosy again, 
 and not make my little pet grieve." 
 
 " Indeed, I wish you would look merry and well again 
 I don't like to see you looking so tired, and as if you did 
 not care much for any thing." 
 
 These words were so perfect an echo to what Mr. Effing- 
 ham had said of himself a little while before, that he was 
 struck. 
 
 " But, suppose I do not care for any thing ? " he said. 
 tl Listen now, Katy : suppose I considered life, this world you 
 know, a place where people dressed up and went through their 
 parts, as a matter of course, because other people were look 
 ing at them ; and suppose I thought that all their merry 
 faces, and laughing, and going on, was affected and often 
 hid a feeling of disquiet, I mean painful feeling. Suppose 
 I did not take any interest in any thing, because the world 
 was not bright, and disagreeable things were always putting 
 me out of temper : suppose I really did not care any thing 
 for the world, or the people in it ? " 
 
 " But that would be wrong," said Kate, simply. 
 
 " How ? " 
 
 " Because the world is not so bad and disagreeable." 
 
 " Isn't it ? " 
 
 " Oh, no." 
 
 "But if I thought so?" 
 
 '* Well, cousik Champ, I think you still ought to do your 
 duty." 
 
 " My duty ? " 
 
 " Yes : you know there is a great deal of good to be 
 done in the world, and nobody has the right to leave it un 
 done. Don't be offended with me : I wouldn't say it, you 
 know, if it wasn't right; or, I mean, if I didn't think it was 
 right : and I don't mean you." 
 
 Mr. Effingham was silent.
 
 THE OTHER PHYSICIAN. 
 
 " I read a good deal in my Bible," said Kate, " and oh ! 
 did I ever tell you what a strange thing happened ? I miss 
 ed it one day iny little old Bible, that papa gave me, you 
 know and I couldn't think where in the world it was. 
 Well, about a month afterwards it was brought to the Hall, 
 by somebody, without any message, and wrapped up so 
 nicely." 
 
 For a moment a cloud passed over Mr. Effingham's face, 
 as he recalled those past scenes, which the child with the 
 thoughtlessness of youth had apparently forgotten. This 
 cloud soon passed away however, and he said : 
 
 " You dropped it somewhere, and some honest person 
 found it. Do you read much in it, Kate ? " 
 
 " Oh yes, every night ; and I ought to, you know, because 
 God has been so good to me, and he commands us to." 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " We ought not to forget God," said Kate, " at least, I 
 ought not to, for he sent papa to take me, when I hadn't any 
 father or mother." 
 
 Mr. Effingham passed his hand over her hair, softly. 
 
 " That was our duty," he said, " you are our blood, and 
 besides," he added, smiling, " you are not so poor, Katy : 
 you are quite a little heiress." 
 
 " I know papa says, I am not poor," Kate said simply, 
 " but money you know couldn't buy love.'' 
 
 " Indeed, no." 
 
 " And everybody loves me," said Kate. " It makes me 
 happy to think of that, and I try to be good." 
 
 The child's face wore such a simple, tender look, at the 
 moment, that Mr. Effingham turned his eyes from it, to a 
 portrait over the fire-place, which wore an expression strik 
 ingly similiar. 
 
 " You are very much like my mother, Katy," he said, 
 softly, " you know your father and mine married cousins." 
 
 " Did they ? I am very glad they are in heaven to 
 gether, you know, cousin Champ " she said, simply. 
 
 Mr. Effingham looked at the child again, and felt hia 
 heart much softened. 
 
 " You are a good little creature, Kate," he said, " and I 
 think it does not hurt me to talk to you. Now come, let ua 
 
 18
 
 82 A LANDSCAPE WITH FIGURES. 
 
 take a little walk. The evening is very fresh and piet*y 
 and I think you will enjoy it." 
 
 ' Oh yes ! " cried Kate, springing up, " I'll get my hat in 
 a moment." 
 
 And she ran up stairs, and returned almost immediately, 
 with a small wide-rimmed straw hat decked with ribbon, 
 and a light velvet pelisse, which she threw around her shoul 
 ders, rather to feel that she had some wrapping on, than be 
 cause the pleasant afternoon required it. 
 
 Then hand in hand the man and the child issued forth, 
 and took their way along the white, winding road, toward the 
 gate, visible at some distance through the wood. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 A LANDSCAPE WITH FIGURES. 
 
 KATE and Mr. Effingham reached and passed through the 
 old gate, and determined to extend their walk to a knoll, two 
 or three hundred yards beyond the little stream which cross 
 ed the road. The stream was rendered passable by means 
 of a narrow footway, constructed of two large logs, above 
 which extended a slender sapling fixed to a tree upon either 
 side, and meant to answer the purpose of a balustrade. 
 
 Kate entered upon the narrow path over the brawling 
 little stream, with fear and trembling and laughter. The 
 swaying banister, so to speak, was very insecure, and one 
 might have supposed that Miss Kate Effingham was taking 
 lessons in the noble art of rope-dancing, so carefully, with 
 her right arm extended, did she balance herself upon the in 
 secure footway. 
 
 " Oh, me ! I'll fall in ! I'm sure I shall ! " she cried, " oh, 
 cousin Champ ! " 
 
 Mr. Effingham smiled, and said : 
 
 " Well, madam, you chose to precede me. It is your 
 own fault." 
 
 " Oh 1 " continued Kate, making the most extraordinary 
 gyrations with her right arm, " oh 1 the tree is giving 
 way 1 "
 
 A LANDSCAPE WITH FIGURES. 83 
 
 In fact, the sapling began to bend more than ever. 
 
 " I shall fall in ! I know I shall ! " cried Kate, laughing 
 and trying to steady herself. " Oh ! cousin ! " 
 
 Two strong arms raised the child, and bore her across. 
 
 " Thank you ! " she cried, " I never should have got over, 
 I think." 
 
 And they proceeded toward the hill, which they soon 
 reached. From the summit, there was a fine view of the 
 Hall, which raised its princely walls above the embowering 
 foliage in the sunset. The windows seemed to be on fire 
 with the crimson light of evening, and the rich rays died 
 away across the broad champaign in roseate splendor faint 
 ing, tailing, dying. It was one of those lovely scenes which 
 are so common in Virginia, when the sun seems to linger, 
 loth to leave the fair fields and tall forests. 
 
 " Look, Katy," said Mr. Efiingham, " that is as pretty 
 a sight as you could find if you wepe to travel a thousand 
 miles." 
 
 " It's lovely ! " cried Kate, leaning her head against his 
 shoulder, and gazing at the landscape with her large bright 
 eyes ; " and look at the clouds !" 
 
 " Yes : all gold. There is nothing as fine as this in Italy 
 though I have seen something like it from a hill near Flo 
 rence. Ah ! they have painters there there are no paint 
 ers, no artists in Virginia : the time has not come but it 
 will come." 
 
 " Look ! " cried Kate, " there is the carriage." 
 
 And she pointed to the left, where the winding road 
 plunged into the woodland. There, indeed, was the Hall 
 chariot rolling on slowly toward them, the four glossy horses 
 lit up by the last rays of the sun. 
 
 " Somebody's with them," continued Kate; " see what a 
 fine-looking-man, and what a beautiful horse. I never saw 
 any thing as pretty." 
 
 " As the man or the horse ? " asked Mr. Effingham, with 
 a faint smile. 
 
 " Oh, the horse ! look what slender, pretty legs he has, 
 and what a fine head and mane." 
 
 "The man?" 
 
 " Oh, no 1 you are laughing at me : the horse : who can 
 it be?"
 
 84 A LANDSCAPE WITH FIGURES. 
 
 " It is Captain Ralph Waters," said Mr. Effingham, calm 
 ly, " let us go and meet them." 
 
 Kate gave a delighted assent to this proposition ; and de 
 scending the hill again, they reached the stream just as the 
 carriage drove to the bank. 
 
 " Ah ! there's my excellent cousin ! " cried the voice of 
 Miss Henrietta Lee, from the chariot : and the brilliant 
 head of that young lady projected itself from the window. 
 
 Mr. Effingham bowed : and then turning to Captain Ralph 
 said in his calm, courteous voice : 
 
 " I am glad to see you again, sir : give you good even 
 ing." 
 
 " Why, good evening, companion," replied the Captain, 
 " delighted to see you, though I did not anticipate that plea 
 sure." 
 
 " I have been taking a short walk myself and my little 
 eousin." 
 
 The Captain made Kate a very courteous little bow, which 
 that young lady was much pleased with. 
 
 " A short walk, eh ? " continued the Captain ; " how ia 
 that?" 
 
 " There is the Hall, sir it is not far." 
 
 " The Hall ? " said the Captain, drawing rein, " ah ! the 
 Hall ! 
 
 And a cloud passed over the worthy soldier's brow. 
 
 " I believe I must return," he added, approaching the 
 window of the carriage, and bowing to Henrietta, Alethca, and 
 the squire. 
 
 " I trust, Captain Waters, that you will not be so un 
 friendly as to leave us at the door of my house," said the old 
 gentleman, with frank courtesy : and he added, in a lower 
 tone, " I understand, sir, that your last visit was on a disa 
 greeable occasion, and did not tempt you to repeat your call 
 but let the past sleep ; you will do me an honor and a plea 
 sure." 
 
 The Captain twisted in his seat, twirled his moustache, 
 and made no reply. 
 
 " Do not afflict me, sir," said the squire, in the same low 
 tone, and with as much cordial courtesy as before, "by caus 
 ing me to recollect events which should be forgotten. Come, 
 sir 1 ask you to do me a personal favor." 
 
 The Captain half yielded, muttering to himself.
 
 A LANDSCAPE WITH FIGURES. 85 
 
 "The ladies must be tired of me," he said; "1 am only 
 a rude soldier, sir : come now, Madam Henrietta, say 1 are 
 you not tired of me ? " 
 
 This was one of those decisive questions which can only 
 be answered by a lady in the negative ; as she could only say 
 yes, therefore, Henrietta said nothing. 
 
 " I am sure that I shall be glad if you go, sir," said Miss 
 Alethea, " and I am quite as sure that Henrietta will." 
 
 No reply from Henrietta. 
 
 " Ah, well," said the. Captain, seeming to conquer his re 
 pugnance at last, "many thanks. I will weary you a little 
 longer. But is this young lady going to walk ? " continued 
 the soldier, pointing to Kate. "Take my horse, he is per 
 fectly gentle, ma petite Mademoiselle ; will you not ? I will fix 
 the stirrup for you." 
 
 " I'm afraid, sir," Kate replied, laugning; "I don't mind 
 walking, if I was over the run." 
 
 " Basta 1 then permit me to transport your small lady 
 ship," said the soldier, laughing. 
 
 And he rode up to the fallen tree, upon whicli Kate was 
 standing. 
 
 The child was quite delighted with this proposition, 
 and first interrogating the old gentleman by a glance, was 
 soon perched behind the Captain, who bore her across in an 
 instant behind the carriage. 
 
 "Do you like your seat, Ma'mselle ? " asked the Cap 
 tain. 
 
 " Did you speak to me, sir ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes : Ma'm'selle is the outlandish for miss." 
 
 41 Yes, sir I like to ride on such a pretty horse." 
 
 " Then I'll carry you all the way, mafoi!" 
 
 "1 don't want to leave cousin Champ," said Kate. 
 
 Mr. Efflngham, who had crossed the brook, smiled, and 
 opening the door of the chariot, entered it. 
 
 " Now, Katy, you may be at rest," he said, "I am very 
 well here, and you shall have your ride." 
 
 The chariot then rolled on and soon drew up before the 
 Hall, as did Captain Ralph, behind whom Kate was sitting 
 with, delighted countenance. 
 
 Will, who had just returned from school, came forth 
 and assisted the ladies from the carriage with dignified 
 courtesy, and the whole party entered the old mansion, Willie 
 lingering behind to ask Kate who that man with the mous 
 tache was ?
 
 3Q Of WHICH THE 20MEDY PROCEEDS. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 IN WHICH THE COMEDY PBOCEED8. 
 
 " I DO not know how you can say so, sir." 
 
 " Is it not true, Madam Henrietta ? Come now, say, is it 
 not?' 
 
 " No, sir ; why should ' ladies in general prefer a fop to any 
 other species of admirer ? ' You perceive, sir, that I repeat 
 your own words." 
 
 " Yes ; and I maintain that they are dooms correct. I 
 set up my rest upon that proposition, and defend it as be^ 
 comes a soldier, and one long cognizant of the humors and 
 peculiarities of the divine sex," continued the Captain, gen 
 tly caressing his long black moustache, and bending forward 
 with great earnestness in his chair. 
 
 While the Captain and Henrietta converse upon one side 
 of the room, Mr. Effingham sits languidly looking out of the 
 window near Miss Alethea upon the other : Kate and Will 
 are holding an animated dialogue by the harpsichord ; and the 
 squire is in the distance exchanging compliments with the 
 parson of the parish, who made his appearance at the Hall 
 soon after the entrance of the party. Mr. Christian is a quiet, 
 benevolent-looking gentleman of about forty, with an open, 
 pleasant eye, a mild manner : and he wears the clerical suit 
 of black, and white neckcloth. Dark colored leggings reach 
 to his knees, and in his hand he carries the shovel hat worn 
 by the clergy. 
 
 And now that the reader has these different groups be 
 fore him, in the old portrait-decorated, carved-wainscoted 
 drawing-room, let us return for a brief space to Miss Henri 
 etta Lee and her admirer : for by this time Captain Ralph 
 has come to assume that position, having fought the battle of 
 Glatz for her own and Mrs. Lee's amusement, and having found 
 in Miss Henrietta whether from interest or a disposition to 
 redeem the character of her sex an attentive and silent lis 
 tener. This circumstance has pleased the Captain, and sure 
 of his auditor, he now branches forth into a discussion of the 
 interesting peculiarities of her sex. 
 
 " Nothing could be truer than the proposition I have had
 
 IN WHICH THE COM Kin' PROCEEDS. 8? 
 
 the hanor to lay down, my dear Ma'm'selle Henrietta," ha 
 continues, " let me hear you deny that the adorable sex 
 the French term, that is not better pleased with the gay 
 fops who adorn this wicked world, than with the more un 
 pretending individuals of the masculine gender. There is 
 no earthly doubt of the fact, and I feel convinced that a lady 
 of your discrimination, upon a calm view of the facts of the 
 matter, will not venture to deny the truth of the aforesaid 
 proposition." 
 
 " I do deny it," says Henrietta, with a toss of her bril 
 liant head, which diffused a light cloud of perfumed powder 
 through th. air ; " I deny it wholly, sir ! " 
 
 " For the sake of argument, doubtless," replies the Cap 
 tain coolly, and exhibiting very little emotion at the lady's 
 manner. 
 
 " I never argue, sir ! " said Henrietta. 
 
 " Yes, yes : logic is not the failing of your admirable 
 sex, madam." 
 
 " Indeed, sir ! " 
 
 " Verily, as our chaplain used to say. But come, let me 
 say a word on this subject : you know how much we mascu 
 line animals love to hear ourselves talk morbleu ! almost 
 as much as the ladies : though not quite." 
 
 Henrietta preserves a disdainful silence : but her man 
 ner is not so cold. She begins to regard Captain Waters as 
 an amusing as well as audacious gentleman. 
 
 "Instead of combating the proposition, I will explain 
 the reason thereof," says the soldier, laughing. " And pray 
 what is a fop ? Why a gentleman that wears drop curls, 
 carries a muff of leopard skin, pardy ! and ambles elegantly 
 on his high-heeled shoes through the minuet, or other agree 
 able divertisement. His hands are as soft as a woman's, and 
 are cove-ed with rings : his cheeks are delicately vermilion 
 ed with the new French thing called rouge, which being 
 translated is, as you are probably aware, red ; his lace is 
 redolent of perfume, and his sword is an inch or something 
 of that sort in length, and covered with knots of ribbon. 
 He takes snuff : he minces his words : he is exquisite : 
 behold the picture of an elegant gentleman called by some 
 a fop, by others a dandy." 
 
 *' Hum 1 " says Henrietta.
 
 88 IN WHICH THE COMEDY PROCEEDS. 
 
 " Now what comparison can there be, my dearest Miss 
 Lee, between one of these ncble seigneurs all glittering with 
 embroidery and covered with perfume, and an ordinary fellow 
 ^a man of the law, a planter, or a soldier ? Their hands are 
 respectably large : their garments are plain their swords 
 yery lengthy and fit for honest blows they are guiltless of 
 perfume, and never mince their words or amble. They are 
 much more apt to whip you out a pardy ! or rnorbleu ! and 
 their manner of walking is decidedly of the stride description. 
 Behold all. See here the difference ! at my French idiom 
 again you perceive." 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Well now, can any thing be more natural, more reason 
 able than the preference your sex have for the former class, 
 madam ? The elegant gentleman fascinates you with his 
 drop curls and lovely red cheeks : his muff is ready for your 
 little hands, and should they encounter his own there, they 
 are soft and white : you admire his grace in the ambling 
 minuet : you are fond of perfumes such as he uses, and his 
 nice little ribbon-decorated sword does not frighten your 
 feminine hearts. How could you ever look at a brown 
 face, a stalwart hand, a plain cavalier, after this enchanting 
 picture ? Impossible ! " 
 
 And the Captain twirls his moustache with a delicious 
 expression of self-appreciation. 
 
 " I suppose you mean," says Henrietta, satirically, " that 
 ladies judge wholly by the exterior, and do not like you 
 sir." 
 
 " Me ? not like me ? No, no, I am an exception 1 " 
 
 " An exception, sir ? " 
 
 " Yes indeed ! " 
 
 "Pray, how?" 
 
 " I unite, mj dear madam, in my own person, the graces 
 of both classes." 
 
 " Sir ! " says Henrietta, completely astonished at this 
 climax of audacious conceit. 
 
 " I know it is in bad taste to say it," replies the Captain, 
 liberally and gracefully ; " but I am anxious to disabuse 
 your mind of the impression that in this matter I am actu 
 ated by any feeling beyond a philosophical interest in th<? 
 Question, calmly considered. No, no, I have never had
 
 IN WHICH THE COMEDY PROCEEDS. &} 
 
 the misfortune to be defeated in a fair fight by any man 
 living." 
 
 " Then the ladies every where have admired you, am I to 
 understand, sir ? " says Henrietta, with her satirical curl of 
 the lip. 
 
 " Well now really you embarrass me extremely !" re 
 plies her cavalier, affecting an innocent and confused expres 
 sion. " Morbleu ! I have no right to reply to that ques 
 tion." 
 
 And the Captain looks mysterious. 
 
 Really the vainest creature I have ever met with 
 odiously vain i is Henrietta's inward comment. 
 
 " Ah, you think me very vain ! " says the Captain. 
 
 Henrietta starts : this acuteness of the soldier is begin 
 ning to surprise and annoy her. 
 
 The Captain observes the movement she makes. 
 
 " Come now : confess I am insupportably vain ! " he 
 says ; " and quarrel with me for answering your own ques 
 tion. By heaven ! I feel as if I had been guilty of some 
 thing horrible the bare idea of which causes my hair to 
 stand on end ! " 
 
 And the Captain assumes an expression of such terror 
 that Henrietta's sense of the comic overcomes her, and she 
 laughs in spite of herself. Conscious however that this will 
 flatter the soldier, she assumes again her habitual expres 
 sion of satirical indifference, and says : 
 
 " Well, sir, having proved, to your own satisfaction at 
 least, that our sex prefer fops to rational men ; pray now 
 proceed to inform me why I especially prefer them. You 
 observe, sir, that I use your own words again." 
 
 The Captain sees that he has advanced one step : he is 
 called upon to speak. 
 
 " Why you prefer them ?" he asked, desirous of gaining 
 time. 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 ' You wish to know, my dear madam, why I ventured to 
 say that you were likely to appreciate this class very highly 
 the reason " 
 
 " Yes, sir : I believe I speak plainly." 
 
 " Very plainly, morbleu ! and with the most charming 
 voice 1 "
 
 90 IN WHICH THE COMEDY PROCEEI8. 
 
 This evasion of fta point piques Henrietta's curiosity 
 and annoys her at the same time. 
 
 " You seem to wish to dismiss the subject, sir," she 
 says. 
 
 " Dismiss the subject ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir ! " replies the young girl, with a satirical flash 
 of her proud brilliant eye, " you are not fond of logic, it 
 seems, though your sex, you say, monopolize it to the exclu 
 sion of my own." 
 
 An idea strikes the Captain, and his face beams ; all at 
 once he finds himself extricated from his dilemma. 
 
 " I do not reply to your insinuation, my dear Miss Lee," 
 he says, " it would take up time. I proceed to tell you 
 why I think you, of all others, would prefer these soft, amia 
 ble, delightfully tranquil, word-mincing gentlemen ; and I 
 think that if you would cast your eye upon that mirror yon 
 der, you would require nothing more." 
 
 " How, sir ? " says Henrietta, gazing at her brilliant 
 image in the mirror. 
 
 " Why, it would show you a pair of bright flashing eyes 
 lips full of animation and brilliancy, in a word> you would 
 see a yeung lady full of fire and spirR. See here, morbleu 1 
 the whole matter in a nutshell." 
 
 Henrietta's lip curls. 
 
 " Really you must aspire to rival the Sphinx, sir," she 
 says. 
 
 " I, madam ? Oh, no ! I have no desire to match my 
 self against that wonder of antiquity ; and I think my point 
 quite plain." 
 
 " How plain, sir 1 " 
 
 * You see brilliant eyes there ; at least bright eyes : do 
 you not ? " 
 
 " Well, sir ? " 
 
 " Animated lips ? " 
 
 " Proceed, sir." 
 
 " Life, quickness, animation ? " 
 
 Well, what next ?" 
 
 " Nothing, my dear madam, all is explained. You pre 
 fer the aforesaid quiet, amiable, unoffending fops, because 
 they are so completely contrasted with yourself. Like seeki 
 unlike you know the proverb."
 
 IN WHICH THE COMEDY PROCEEDS. 9 1 
 
 " Then, sir, I ain not 'quiet' ' 
 
 The Captain finds that his anxiety to escape from one 
 dilemma has plunged him into another, and he utters a so 
 norous ' hum ! ' 
 
 " Nor amiable ? " 
 
 " Really, madam " 
 
 " Nor unoffending ? " 
 
 " What an unfortunate man I am," says the Captain, with 
 well-counterfeited contrition. " I do not understand th 
 English tongue, owing to my long sojourn in foreign lands. 
 I foresee, Ma'm'selle, that we shall not get on in English. 
 High Dutch, Prussian or the French, for heaven's sake, or I 
 am ruined, totally, completely ayez pitie ! " 
 
 Henrietta again feels a violent desire to laugh, so pro 
 found is the Captain's chagrin or rather the affectation of 
 chagrin. Feeling unwilling to encourage him, however, she 
 plays with a diamond necklace round her neck, and tugs at 
 it indifferently. 
 
 " Take care I " says the Captain, " I observe a portion 
 of your necklace loose, and " 
 
 The caution comes too late : the unfortunate necklace 
 parts asunder and drops upon the carpet. 
 
 The Captain picks it up gallantly. 
 
 " There, now I " says Henrietta, with an expression of 
 annoyance, " you have made me break my necklace, sir 1 " 
 
 " /, my dear madam ? " 
 
 "Yes, sir: if I had not" 
 
 But finding the explanation likely to turn out somewhat 
 embarrassing, she pauses. 
 
 " Your explanation is perfectly satisfactory," says the 
 soldier, laughing. 
 
 " What explanation, sir ? " says Henrietta, more piqued 
 than she cares to show. 
 
 " Why, the explanation you gave of my agency in the 
 destruction of the unfortunate necklace.' 
 
 Henrietta tosses' her head. 
 
 " I gave none, sir," she said 
 
 " Really, madam " 
 
 " Well, sir ? 
 
 " Permit me to observe, that you undoubtedly did ex 
 plain "
 
 92 IN WHICH THE COMEDY PROCEEDS. 
 
 " I was not conscious of it, sir. 
 
 " Perhaps not : but I heard it ; and I am so profoundly 
 convinced of my criminality by the afcresaid explanation, 
 that I hold myself the real author of tLis unhappy circum 
 stance." -v 
 
 " Well, sir, as you please." 
 
 But this does not satisfy the Captain, who with the art 
 of a consummate soldier has already graven out the plan of 
 his campaign." 
 
 " Am I not guilty ? " he persists. 
 
 " If you choose, sir." 
 
 " Yes, or no ? " 
 
 " Yes, then, sir." 
 
 The Captain exhibits great delight at this avowal, and 
 with his white teeth shining merrily under his black mous 
 tache, returns the broken necklace to its owner, and contin 
 ues conversing with the utmost sang-froid and good humor; 
 as if indeed he had just rendered a service, instead of caus 
 ing an annoying accident. 
 
 Let us now turn to the other groups, which are as busily 
 engaged in conversing as the Captain and his friend or 
 enemy Miss Henrietta. 
 
 " It may surprise you, sir," says Mr. Christian to the 
 squire, in his mild quiet voice, " but I do not consider the 
 present Church system so perfect as you seem to, though I 
 am a member of that system. I think that there are many 
 and great abuses in it ; and I can understand how these 
 abuses have attracted so much attention from the new re 
 formers of the age." 
 
 " We have too many reformers, parson," says the bluff 
 squire ; " they'll reform and reform, until no form is left in 
 any thing." 
 
 " I thought, sir, that the legislation of parliament upon 
 matters connected with this colonj found in you a deter 
 mined enemy. I am, as you know, a stranger here, but 
 Btill " 
 
 " They do, sir ! " interrupted the squire, " I am opposed 
 to the death to the whole policy of the present ministry 
 meddling with our affairs here, and presuming to speak of a 
 Stamp duty ! It is abominable ! But that does not blind
 
 ' IN WHICH THE COMEDY PROCEEDS. 93 
 
 me so far as to make me hate the good old established 
 Church." 
 
 " I would be much grieved to hear that you hated it, 
 sir," says Mr. Christian mildly, " but we may cherish a sys 
 tem and yet not be blind to its abuses." 
 
 " What abuses under heaven are there in our Church, 
 sir ? the good old system under which my forefathers lived 
 and died ? It is a queer question to ask you, sir 'but you 
 have thrown down the gauntlet 1 " 
 
 Mr. Christian smiles. 
 
 " It is not customary for persons of my profession, Mr 
 Effingham, to throw down defiances. Believe me, such was 
 not my intention : I meant only to express, in a Christian 
 and moderate spirit, my fears of the operation of our present 
 system. You ask what are the abuses in it : I think I can 
 reply in very few words. The presentation to parishes, in 
 the first place, is very unjust in its operation that privilege 
 being often granted to noblemen and gentlemen who do not 
 care how parishes are governed. I have known instances, 
 sir, where persons were named for this sacred duty and 
 who were called to it, in truth too, sir persons, I say, whose 
 lives had been more scandalous than I can describe, and who 
 carried the vices of this world into the bosom of the holy 
 Church." 
 
 " Well, sir there is something in that, and I have heard 
 that the worthy who preceded you, parson, was no better 
 than he should be. I'm glad we are rid of him, and I send 
 Will to his school from pure charity." 
 
 " I did not wish to make allusion to any one, sir God 
 forbid: that is not my place." 
 
 " A good exchange ! I'll say that much, parson," sayfc 
 the honest squire, " but the other abuses ?" 
 
 " I will mention but one, sir : and perhaps what I say 
 may surprise you. I think the union of Church and State 
 impolitic." 
 
 " The union of Church and State impolitic ! impolitic 1 " 
 
 " Wrong, then, sir," Mr. Christian replies mildly to 
 these impassioned words, " I think it a great injustice." 
 
 " How, in heaven's name ? " 
 
 " Thus, sir. The sentiment of religion is so high and 
 pure, depends so completely upon the untrammelled operation
 
 94 IN WHICH THE COMEDY PROCEEDS. ' 
 
 of the human heart, that any legislation which tends to cir 
 cumscribe and reduce it to rule must eternally fail, ai d ope* 
 rate wofully for the great interest of mankind. This senti 
 ment, sir, must he permitted to be a law unto itself; nothing 
 can direct it ; nothing should interfere with it. Especially 
 and terribly unjust are those laws which say to the followei 
 of Christ, ' you shall not worship at any shrine but one, and 
 that shrine you must support.' You perceive, sir, that I anr 
 as far advanced in my refona ideas as the most zealous new 
 light, as I believe those who dissent from our Church call 
 themselves. I cannot help myself, I cannot say what I do 
 not think, and, after much prayer to God to enlighten me, 
 and give me just and true understanding, I am compelled 
 to say that I believe religious toleration the first and most 
 important duty of a state." 
 
 Mr. Christian ceases speaking, and gazes thoughtfully 
 and earnestly into the lawn. The squire clears his throat, 
 marshals his logic, and with a preparatory " hem !" com 
 mences his refutation of the parson's views. Let us, how 
 ever, leave the worthy gentlemen, and pass on to the harpsi 
 chord, not pausing to hear Miss Alethea inform Mr. Effing 
 ham that Clare had a headache, and could not come, or tc 
 listen to her companion's weary and languid discourse. Le 
 us pass on, and hear what Will and Kate are saying to each 
 other. 
 
 Comedy goes out of its proper field when it deals with 
 fiery passions, or grand personages or events ; but, if it can 
 not usurp the function of tragedy, it has this to recommend 
 it, that it may safely deal with every species of character, of 
 every class and every age ; and when in this pursuit it finds 
 a peculiarity, it may paint it and vindicate itself, however 
 humble and apparently insignificant the personage or the 
 trait may be. The reader must have been convinced, before 
 this, that the second portion of our history is destined to 
 deal with comedy more than the former portion, though that 
 boasted a company of comedians, and in this he has not 
 been mistaken. 
 
 Will and Kate are persons of the comedy, and we must 
 not neglect them now or at any future time. 
 
 They are holding an animated conversation, as we have 
 paid, by tie harpsichord, and Will seems to be in posses-
 
 IN WHICH THE COMEDY PROCEEDS. 99 
 
 eion of something which Kate desires to see very much. 
 She leans forward on the cricket she occupies, and with her 
 bright eyes fixed upon Master Will, is plainly desirous that he 
 shall unroll something which he holds in his hand. This 
 gomething is in the shape of a roll of parchment, and Will 
 hesitates, and hesitating, rubs the side of his nose with the 
 scroll. 
 
 " Now Willie," says Kate, " I think you might show it to 
 me." 
 
 Will rubs the other side of his nose. 
 
 " What ia it ? " continues Kate ; " you say it is nice, and 
 pretty, and will make me happy my goodness 1 what is 
 it?" 
 
 Will assumes a meditative attitude, and smooths that 
 portion of his face upon which he hopes hereafter to have 
 whiskers. 
 
 " Guess, Kate." 
 
 " I can't." 
 
 " Well, try." 
 
 " Is it poetry ? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " A picture ? 
 
 Will hesitates, and then says : 
 
 " No : not exactly." 
 
 " Let's see," says Kate, " what can it be ? Yoct said it 
 was ' nice ' and ' pretty,' and I would like it didn't you? * 
 
 Will, finding his description cast in his teeth, and appa 
 rently dubious whether it is wholly correct, satisfies himself 
 with a doubtful nod. 
 
 "- Is it a nosegay ? but I see it isn't," says Kate, in 
 despair. 
 
 " No, it is not," Will replies. 
 
 " What is it ? 0, my goodness gracious 1 what can it 
 be ? " says Kate, laughing and perplexed. 
 
 Willie looks a little sheepish. 
 
 " I don't think I can show it to you," he says, stuffing the 
 roll in his breast. 
 
 " hd not tell me ? * 
 
 " I think not. 
 
 " Now, Willie 1 " 
 
 Will is obdurate.
 
 96 IN WHICH THE COMEDY PROCEEDS. 
 
 " O, Willie, what is it ? " 
 
 " Really, Kate, you are very curious." 
 
 " Women always are, you know always. Now Will ! ' 
 
 And Kate laughs merrily, and attempts to gain possession 
 of the scroll. 
 
 " What will you give me to show it to you ? " 
 
 "Any thing." 
 
 " Hold up your mouth ! " 
 
 And Will, with the gravity of a judge, fixes his lips for 
 a kiss. 
 
 " I won't," says Kate. 
 
 " Not kiss me ! " cries Will, in despair : and shaking his 
 head he adds, mournfully, " then I needn't have got Sam 
 Baskerville to write this." 
 
 " Oh, it's writing," says Kate, clapping her hands, " now 
 I know." 
 
 Willie remains silent. 
 
 " It's a love letter, please let me see it," adds his lady love. 
 
 " You will not so much as give me one kiss," says Willie, 
 showing a strong disposition to put his knuckle in his eye, 
 and prize out a tear. 
 
 " Ladies of my age must preserve the dignity of their 
 position," Kate says, with delightful gravity. 
 
 " Not kiss me ! " repeats Willie, with a look to which his 
 former piteous glance was jolly merriment ; " then I needn't 
 have got Bill Lane and Ellen Fellows to make the Roman 
 letters, and paint the wreath of flowers, and hearts, and 
 arrow." 
 
 And Will looks the picture of patience on a monument 
 smiling at grief, or another deeply chagrined figure, which 
 the reader may imagine. 
 
 Kate bursts out laughing : 
 
 " Oh there's a wreath of flowers, and a heart two hearts 
 you said and an arrow, may be two arrows " 
 
 " Only one," murmurs Will, in a heart-broken tone, and 
 
 fazing piteous-ly through the window, " wouldn't give me a 
 iss me !" 
 
 " Well, may be who knows but I won't promise." 
 Kate says, " let me see it first." 
 
 Will, with averted head and nerveless grip, resigns the 
 parchment, and Kate, seizing it, unrolls it quickly, At the
 
 IN WHICH THE COMEDY PROCHBDS 97 
 
 top of the page is painted a wreath of flowers, in the middle 
 of which two deeply crimson hearts are pierced by an intensely 
 silver arrow. Above flutters a bow of ribbon and beneath, 
 in the most ornamental letters possible, Kate reads, half 
 aloud, the following : 
 
 " THIS INDENTURE, made in the month of March, of tho 
 year of grace one thousand seven hundred and ninety-five, 
 in the Colony of Virginia, Continent of North America, " 
 
 " Sam Baskerville's father was Sheriff, and he knows all 
 about it," says Willie, regarding the parchment with forlorn 
 interest. 
 
 " between William Effingham, Esq.," continues Kate, 
 " of Effingham Hall, and Miss Kate Effingham, of ditto, 
 spinster, " 
 
 " Me !" cries Kate. 
 
 " There ! that's the way it is," says Will, with forlorn 
 resignation. 
 
 " Witnesseth," continues Kate, mastered by her curi 
 osity and reading without stopping, " that for and in con 
 sideration of his, the said William Effingham, Esq's., pro 
 found affection and unutterable love, and liking for her the 
 said Kate Effingham, spinster as aforesaid, he the said Wil 
 liam Effingham, Esq., doth hereby endow the said Kate 
 Effingham, spinster as aforesaid, with all that property, lying 
 and being in the county of Gloucester, and known as the 
 Cove, with all and several, each and every, singular and 
 plural, the fields, tenements, messuages, hereditaments, ten 
 ures, and remainder, to say nothing of the reversion and 
 contingent remainder, neither to mention the executory de 
 vise thereof and all this property, he the said William 
 Effingham, Esq., gives to the said Kate Effingham, spinster, 
 because his father gave it to him last Christmas Only pro 
 vided, and on the condition specified, well understood and 
 no mistake, that she the said Kate Effingham, spinster, who 
 is one of the nicest girls in the Colony " 
 
 '* I gave him that part ! " murmurs Will. 
 
 Kate continues shaking with laughter, and curiosity. 
 
 " shall on the execution hereof according to the style 
 and meaning, intent and signification of it, the said inden 
 turethat she the aforesaid spinster, shall agree to espouse
 
 98 IN WHICH THE COMEDY PROCEEDS. 
 
 in the bonds of wedlock, for richer, for poorer, in sicklies* 
 and in health, him the aforesaid William Effingham, Es 
 quire." 
 
 " Oh ! " cries Kate; but goes on. 
 
 " And to the better understanding of this indenture, 
 it is hereby stated that he the said William Effingham, Es 
 quire, has not at this time, nor ever hath had during any 
 previous time, whereof the memory of man runneth not to 
 the contrary, any affection, love, or desire to enter into matri 
 monial engagements with Donsy Smith, spinster, who is a 
 nice girl, but not equal to the aforesaid Kate Effingham, 
 spinster. And to the end that all shall be done in the pre 
 mises the commonwealth's writ of subpoena shall issue, sum 
 moning the parties to this indenture, to affix their names to 
 the same : and your petitioner will ever pray. 
 
 " Given under our hands and seals, the day and year 
 aforesaid. 
 
 " William Effingham, Esq., [Seal.] 
 
 [Seal." 
 
 Kate finishes the paper and drops it, laughing loud. 
 
 " What are you laughing at, Kate ? " says Will, mourn 
 fully. 
 
 " It nearly took my breath away ! " cries Kate. " Oh, 
 goodness ! " 
 
 " Won't you sign it ? " pleads Willie, " say, dearest 
 Kate ? " 
 
 The young lady observes for the first time the profoundly 
 mournful tone of her admirer, and feels the tender senti 
 ment of pity invading her heart. She sighs. Will hears 
 this sigh, and seizes her hand with impassioned expec 
 tation. 
 
 " No I don't think " says Kate, bending her head, 
 with the air of a lady overwhelmed by confusion. 
 
 " Now, Kate do sign ! We'll have such a delightful 
 time playing down at the Cove ! " 
 
 Kate sees the spiendid vision, but endeavors to resist. 
 She loves Will devotedly ; why not make him happy, when 
 a flirt of the pen can compass that end ? 
 
 Will throws upon her an affectionate glance, and endea 
 vors to put a pencil in her hand. As he bends down, a little 
 pincushion falls from his waistcoat pocket.
 
 IN WHICH THE COMEDY PROCEED*. 99 
 
 What is that ? " says Kate. 
 
 Willie looks the picture of guilt. 
 
 " A pincushion ! " he murmurs. 
 
 " The one I gave you, Willie ? " 
 
 " N o," says Will. 
 
 " Who gave you this ? " 
 
 Will looks desperate. 
 
 " Donsy ! " he murmurs, in an expiring voice. 
 
 " And where is mine, pray sir ! " says Kate. 
 
 Will turns pale, but answers like a man though a very 
 much frightened man : 
 
 ' I gave it to Donsy, for this ! " 
 
 " Then I won't marry you, Willie ! " cries Kate, putting 
 her handkerchief to her eyes, " no ! that I won't, sir 1 " 
 
 " Oh, Kate ! I didn't mean" 
 
 " I won't hear any excuses, sir I don't want them. To 
 give my pincushion away ! Oh ! Willie ! " 
 
 And putting down the true-love indenture, Kate turns 
 from her desperate admirer and pouts beautifully. 
 
 " Ah ! petite Mademoiselle, you are annoyed," says the 
 Captain, " I am sure that gallant little Monsieur has not 
 done it." 
 
 Kate's face clears up, and a smile like a sunbeam drives 
 away her mortification. 
 
 " Yes, sir," says Willie, " I am guilty." 
 
 And having made this manly confession, he hastily rolls 
 up the true-love indenture, and stuffs it in his pocket. Then 
 he links arms with the not unwilling Kate, whose ill-humor 
 has nearly vanished, and they run out on the lawn to catch 
 the last rays of twilight, and in child phrase, " make up." 
 
 We need not return to the groups whose conversation we 
 have listened to. Our history does not require that we 
 should listen to more : and as far as one party went, this 
 was even rendered impossible. Captain Ralph rose to take 
 his departure. The squire of course pressed him to remain 
 and sup, but this the worthy soldier declined. He must be 
 at home before the night had set in. Would he then honor 
 them by coming on Thursday next to dinner ? If pot 
 Bible. 
 
 And so with a consolatory assurance to Miss Henrietta, 
 that he would visit her soon again, the Captain went away.
 
 100 AT THE TRAP, AND ELSEWHERE. ^ 
 
 On the portico he met and bade farewell to the " little 
 Ma'mselle and Monsieur ; " and then the twilight swallowed 
 Seliin and his rider. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 AT THE TRAP, AND ELSEWHERE. 
 
 ONE morning, a few days after the scenes we have just re 
 lated, Mr. Effingham received a note couched in the folibw- 
 ing terms : 
 
 " MY DEAR. CHAMP : 
 
 " Come over to ' the Trap,' and dine and sleep with me. 
 Be sure to be in trim to ride through a cane-brake, that is, 
 in buff and leather : and ride Tom the large piebald : he's 
 a glorious animal, by George 1 
 
 " I count on you to obey this, which comes from your 
 
 Friend till death, 
 
 JACK HAMILTON." 
 " ' The Trap,' on a splendid morning." 
 
 For a moment Mr. Effingham was determined not to go, 
 and ordered the servant who brought the note to be directed 
 to wait. The servant from the Trap had departed however, 
 and Mr. Effingham finally determined to embrace his friend's 
 invitation. 
 
 " Why annoy the honest fellow ? " he said, " he is one of 
 my very best friends, and I cannot afford to throw away such 
 I have not enough. Now what can he want ? Here I am 
 languidly speculating, and cannot, to save me, come to any 
 conclusion. It is too late in the season to hunt and yet he 
 says I must come in buff and leather. I am to ride Tom, 
 and sleep there. Decidedly I will give it up." 
 
 And Mr. Effingham dismissed the subject from his mind, 
 returning it seemed to some vague train of thought that had 
 possession of his mind. Sitting before the slight fire of 
 crackling twigs, with his feet upon the old grotesque and 
 irons, he gazed into the coals : then upon the old portrait 
 high upon the carved wainscot then through the window 
 pn the breezy lawn, covered with flowers which bowed their
 
 AT THE TRAP, AND ELSEWHERE. 10\ 
 
 beads as the wind passed over them. The blustering wind of 
 March rang merrily round the gables, and whistled through 
 the keyhole, and rose and fell, and died away. Only the 
 ticking of the huge clock in the hall was heard in these 
 pauses, and footsteps of Miss Alethea, or Kate, or some ser 
 vant in the apartments overhead. 
 
 The thinker gazed long at the portraits. 
 
 " I believe in blood," said Mr. Effingham, musingly 
 " The blood of men is quick or sluggish, generous or mean, 
 just as that of animals is. The race-horse has an ancestry 
 of race-horses the common drudge, an ancestry of drudges, 
 the offspring of tigers are fierce, as the lamb follows its dam 
 in meekness very trite and very true ; every thing true is 
 trite. And man, the supreme animal, is not an exception. 
 There now is old Harry Effingham, in his armor he fought 
 at Agincourt, they say, and did good service with his stout 
 arm. And there is the Chevalier Huon, of Effenghame, as 
 they call him, the princeps of all, who married a damsel of 
 the accursed race of Mahound, the family chronicle says, in 
 the Crusades a wild fellow, I do not doubt, and perhaps I 
 have now, in this good year of grace, 1765, something of Sir 
 Huon in me. Possibly ; I came very near wedding one who 
 well, well ; I will not rake in those cold ashes. What 
 boots it ? The fire is burnt out, it is true ; but why soil my 
 fingers ? I think I have suffered enough. If not pleasure, 
 give me the next thing, apathy, which I think I have." 
 
 A servant entered, to replenish the fire. 
 
 " Ned, have the piebald, Tom, saddled, and brought 
 round," said Mr. Emngham, 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 The servant retired, and Mr. EfEngham fell into another 
 fit of thought, from which he was roused by the intelligence 
 that his horse was ready. 
 
 " I suppose I may be allowed to disregard the caution 
 about dress," he said to himself. " Bring my boots and 
 spurs," he added, to the servant. 
 
 He was soon on his way, and before long, reached the 
 Trap. This abode of Mr. Jack Hamilton was a very hand 
 some specimen of the old hipped roof mansions which crown 
 so many hills in Virginia, and one might have seen at a 
 glance that none but a bachelor resided there. The front
 
 102 AT THE TRAP, AND ELSEWHERE. 
 
 door was permanently open, one hinge having given way, and 
 the few abortive efforts to open and close it, having resulted 
 in nothing more than a semi-circular mark upon the floor, 
 The door had been in this condition just one year, and re 
 mained unchanged until but we anticipate. Upon the 
 small porch half-a-dozen dogs were dozing, and snapping at 
 the flies ; and in the yard a score of hounds bayed, gam 
 bolled, basked in the sun. or dragged their blocks. 
 
 An old white-haired negro came, with the well-bred cour 
 tesy of the Virginia family servant, to take Mr. Effiughanrs 
 horse, and he entered. 
 
 Jack Hamilton came forth to greet him, and then they 
 entered the dining-room, or rather the apartment used for 
 that purpose when Mr. Hamilton was alone, which was very 
 seldom. Here Mr. Effingham found half-a-dozen gentlemen 
 from the neighborhood, all his acquaintances. They re 
 ceived him with the cordial frankness of boon companions, 
 and after a few questions about his travels, commenced again 
 conversing, at the top of their voices, on hunting, plantation 
 matters, politics especially upon politics. Did half-a-dozen 
 Virginians ever remain together half an hour, without talk 
 ing politics ? We have never been present on such an oc 
 casion. 
 
 Dinner, and copious libations perhaps we might say co 
 pious libations and dinner also succeeded. Afterwards a 
 cloud of smoke, from as many tobacco pipes as there were 
 men, Mr. Effingham excepted, and then politics more fero 
 ciously than ever. Navigation laws yes, sir, infamous, un 
 constitutional dare to pass that stamp act they talk of 
 try it the continent will be in a blaze pshaw ! yes sir ! 
 in a blaze puff! puff! I tell you, sir no, sir yes, sir 
 I like the governor he don't suit the times here Oscar ! 
 Is this Black's pup, Jack ? But we refrain even from re 
 porting stenographically this chaos of voices, the new Ba 
 bel of confused tongues. 
 
 The afternoon passed, and night came, and then a sub 
 stantial supper, preceded by a walk out to look at the horses, 
 the dogs, the tobacco, the stock, every thing. Then all go to 
 the door to greet a stalwart gentleman, approaching on a 
 fine roan ; and Captain Ralph greets his friends with a mul 
 tiplicity of morbleus I and they all sit down to supper.
 
 AT THE TIIAP, AND ELSEWHERE. 103 
 
 After supper, cards, and wine, and tobacco smoke. Spa- 
 dille reigns supreme, and the Captain loses a pile of gold, 
 spite of his most desperate efforts, a circumstance which 
 causes him to explode a whole magazine of gunpowder-like 
 morbleus ! and curse the stars, which are made responsible 
 for the ills that happen upon earth, much too often. 
 
 Mr. Effingham has long since heard that the object of 
 the gathering is nothing less than a real bonaf.de fox-hunt, 
 spite of the lateness of the season, and the smile which has 
 greeted this transparent device of the worthy Jack Hamil 
 ton, has yielded to apathy again. Mr. Effingham will ride 
 after the hounds it is not worse than idleness. 
 
 Cards and dice lose their charm at last, pipes emit only 
 acrid smoke, claret, and the best Jamaica, only make the 
 head muddier, even politics has died a natural death, and the 
 revellers sleep. 
 
 But before the day has reddened in the east, they are 
 flying after the hounds, who have struck a warm trail, and 
 the far distance swallows them, the yelping of the dogs dies 
 away, the Trap has caught silence, and holds it tight. 
 
 Mr. Effingham rides more madly than them all. He be 
 gins to think that Mr. Hamilton is not so contemptible a 
 physician as he thought him, for his cheek is full of blood, 
 which was before so pale; his eyes are brilliant; his breast 
 feels no longer as though some heavy load oppressed it he 
 is conscious of the effect which the body exerts upon the 
 mind. Mr. Effingham's habit was to sleep late in the morn 
 ing ; here he was scouring the cold, fresh, shivering, dewy 
 fields, before sunrise, following the music of the dogs, and 
 whirling over fences, ditches, and hollows. One or two of 
 the hunters stumbled, and once a rider was rolled in a ditch. 
 Mr. Effingham positively found himself laughing. 
 
 They rode all the morning ; they had started one of 
 those old gray foxes, who take pleasure in running all day, 
 and sleep all the sounder after their hen-roost supper, for the 
 exercise. By noon Reynard had disappeared sunk into the 
 earth vanished ; the dogs were at fault, and after two hours 
 search for the provoking animal's traces, the hmrt was aban 
 doned. 
 
 Mr. Effingham, Captain Ralph, and Jack Hamilton, took 
 their way back together ; calculating the distance they had
 
 104 AT THE TRAP, AND ELSEWHERE. 
 
 ridden between twenty and thirty miles, perhaps more. Mr. 
 Effingham was not at all weary, and said he never felt 
 better. 
 
 They passed Mr. Lee's about noon, and the old gentle 
 man insisted on their going in to dinner. To this, Mr. Ham 
 ilton and the Captain consented at once, but Mr. Effingham 
 at first demurred. 
 
 " You will offend Mr. Lee, Champ, my boy," said Ham 
 ilton, in a low tone. 
 
 Mr. Effingham gave his friend a strange look, sighed lan 
 guidly, and entered with them. 
 
 How it was, Mr. Effingham did not know, but Jack 
 Hamilton persuaded him to stay, and return with him, and 
 whenever he intimated to his friend a desire to go, the inti 
 mation was received with a look which seemed to say, " Don't 
 hurry, my dear fellow ; just let me finish this anecdote to 
 Miss Clare, and I'm with you;" or, " Let us hear Miss Hen 
 rietta finish that rattling song which the Captain has worried 
 her into singing;" or, "Just let me refute these ideas of Mr. 
 Lee, on the mode of curing tobacco." And so evening drew 
 on, and Mr. Effingham, to his own astonishment, did not feel 
 very unhappy. 
 
 They were all gathered now around the harpsichord, 
 whereat sat Henrietta, dazzlingly beautiful, and striking in 
 differently all her visitors, with her satirical speeches, and 
 proud, laughing eyes. 
 
 The Captain listened with delight, or an excellent affecta 
 tion, to 
 
 " In the golden days of good Queen Bess," 
 
 and declared that he had never heard any thing more beau 
 tiful, except the songs of the French soldiers on the night 
 preceding the battle of Mindon. This observation caused 
 Miss Henrietta to say, that perhaps Captain Waters pre 
 ferred male to female voices. To which satirical observa 
 tion, the Captain, with great candor, and cordial frankness, 
 replied that he did. Miss Henrietta thereupon requested a 
 song from some gentleman present, but failing in her desire, 
 retired to the opposite side of the room, where Captain 
 Ralph permitted her to remain, very cheerfully. 
 
 Finding this position somewhat dull, Miss Henrietta re-
 
 AT THE TRAP, AND ELSEWHERE. 105 
 
 turned by degrees, from the window to the sofa, from the 
 sofa to the centre-table, from the table to the harpsichord 
 again, with a volume in her hand. She said that nothing 
 was more stupid than these accounts of battles holding the 
 history of the late war, open, as she spoke. The Captain 
 roused himself, and replied, politely, yes, it was a very fine 
 evening. Miss Henrietta thereupon tossed her head ; the 
 Captain said that the perfume of the hair-powder she used 
 was delightful. Thereupon Miss Henrietta, in great ill- 
 humor, turned her back upon him, and began to talk with 
 Mr. Effingham ; and not to be exceeded in civility, the Cap 
 tain turned his back too, and began to converse, very cheer 
 fully, with Clare and Mr. Hamilton. 
 
 Clare, as we may imagine, supported with difficulty this 
 long interview with Mr. Effingham. He had not addressed 
 more than half a dozen words to her, and these had been 
 characterized by a calm reserve ; but once or twice their 
 eyes furtively met, and they saw plainly that each was watch 
 ing the other. Clare seemed uneasy at his presence. Mr. 
 Effingham felt his heart stir, in the young girl's presence a 
 nameless charm seemed to envelope her but he kept his re 
 solution to avoid engaging in any conversation which could 
 bring on any allusion to former times and events. This was 
 not difficult, for Mr. Hamilton engrossed much of Clare's at 
 tention, and she seemed to seek in his society a refuge from 
 that of Mr. Effingham. He commented inwardly on her 
 evident partiality for his friend, trying to say calmly to 
 himself that he would make her an excellent husband. 
 Perhaps the gloom upon his brow grew somewhat deeper, 
 when the innocent girl smiled upon Hamilton so kindly and 
 sweetly, but he controlled his feelings. 
 
 She sat down, at the request of Mr, Hamilton, and un 
 affectedly commenced singing. The song was " Logan 
 Water," and she sang it with great feeling and sweetness. 
 The sound of her voice affected him strangely, and sitting 
 down, he drank in the clear, tender carol, his dreamy eyes 
 fixed on her face. 
 
 That song revived all the past for him. She had sung it 
 
 often for him, and perhaps tins was what led her to refuse 
 
 Mr. Hamilton's request for that particular song at first. As 
 
 ghe sang, all those bright, happy days of youth, returned to 
 
 19
 
 106 AT THE HALL. 
 
 him : the days in the woods the evening playing games 
 the mornings, when, with her fair hair unbound, she ran hand 
 in hand with him, over emerald meadows, by rippling, 
 laughing streams. Again the birds carolled over head, as 
 they carolled in the past, and a flood of memories flowed in 
 upon his apathetic heart, and made its dull tide leap again. 
 As the last notes died away, he felt as though he were leav* 
 ing some fairy isle of warmth and verdure, and a million 
 flowers, to breast the cold, stormy seas of real life ; and with 
 the last plaintive notes, the volume of his memory closed 
 again, and his heart sank. 
 
 As she rose, they exchanged a long look ; and Mr. 
 Effingham turned away. 
 
 Her look had said : " Do not avoid me thus, because we 
 have both been unhappy and unfortunate ; because our rela 
 tions are changed, forget, as I do." 
 
 His own said as plainly : " I have tried your heart 
 cruelly, I know it ; I suffer without complaining, or expect 
 ing the past to return ; you can never love me again ; I do 
 not complain. I deserve all ; but will bear my suffering in 
 silence." 
 
 Had the lips but said it! had those glances spoken 
 plainly ! 
 
 Mr. Eflingham, when he departed, merely bowed. He 
 looked at her again, with his old dreamy gaze, and went 
 away with his companions. 
 
 As he went to his chamber that night, he murmured : 
 " Well, I was mistaken ; some of the old feeling, for a 
 wonder, still remains, surviving the storm. Let me beware 
 of it." 
 
 And his head sank as he spoke. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 AT THE HALL. 
 
 OUR narrative does not require a lengthy description of the 
 great dinner and ball at the mansion of the squire. When 
 we have said that the noble mansion blazed from top to bot-
 
 AT THE HAIL. lU? 
 
 lorn with a thousand lights, that chariots constantly rolled 
 up, and deposited beautiful dames and gallant cavaliers, that 
 they dined in state, and danced and feasted and made merry, 
 we have said all that is necessary. As to describing with a 
 mere pen one of these old festivals, which still occasionally 
 fill with laughter and high revelry some old houses, the 
 thing is simply impossible. Some great artist, uniting a 
 genius for the humorous and the noble, the rude and the ele 
 gant, the grotesque and the beautiful, might possibly de 
 lineate one of these old jubilees, and the singular old race 
 who delighted in them ; we cannot, yet we may, before pass 
 ing on to the real events of this narrative, pause a moment 
 to jot down some of the salient points of the brilliant 
 gathering. 
 
 In addition to the chariots with their rumbling wheels, 
 neighing horses, and cracking whips, there came great num 
 bers of brave cavaliers upon good steeds, in parties, laughing 
 and jesting, or singly. Sometimes these gentlemen accom 
 panied the chariots, as in the case of Mr. Hamilton, who 
 rode dutifully by the Riverhead coach, the said coach con 
 taining Mr. Lee, Henrietta, and Clare, who had consented 
 to attend the ball, only after repeated requests from her 
 father, who had observed and regretted her inexplicable dip- 
 like to visiting at the Hall for some wrecks past. 
 
 The dinner was a splendid affair, and there was much 
 marshalling of the guests in their places his Excellency, 
 Francis Fauquier, Governor of the Colony, sitting on the 
 squire's right hand. The dinner proceeded as those pleasant 
 pompous old affairs were wont to, and in due time the 
 gentlemen were left to their politics and wine. There was 
 not much political discourse, however, in deference to his 
 Excellency. It was not polite to denounce his gracious 
 Majesty, his ministry, and their darling money-project, the 
 stamp act ; and to speak favorably of any one of these, was 
 more than any guest's courtesy could compass. So they dis 
 cussed the weather and the crops, and the seven years' war, 
 last passed, and, above all, the approaching races near 
 Jamestown, from which they glided into erudite disquisi 
 tions on the pedigree of racers. 
 
 As night closed in they dined early, even on state oo- 
 casious, in those honest da) ^ the cavaliers betook them-
 
 108 AT THE BALL. 
 
 selves to the drawing room, and there insinuated themselrea 
 into the glittering throng of lovely dames, all powdered and 
 furbelowed and flounced, and then arose that buzz which, in 
 our time, by force of progressive increase, has grown into a 
 stunning uproar, in which every one endeavors, by raising 
 his or her voice, to drown the voice of every one else. 
 
 The smiling cavaliers, in powder, ruffles, embroidery, 
 long waistcoats, and silk stockings, betook themselves to 
 paying devoted court to the fascinating dames in lace, dia 
 monds, satin robes with trains, and shoes portentously 
 high in the heels; and so, with flirting fans, and winning 
 smiles, and low bows and little graceful curtsies, the time 
 passed. Then the well- instructed musicians, led by Mr. 
 William Booker, colored gentleman, violinist and appendage 
 to the glebe of Effiugham, struck up a minuet, and the fur 
 belows and silk stockings bowed and curtsied with ambling 
 swaying movement, with cocked hats pressed upon the heart, 
 and fans expanded, and then closed again, and many an un 
 guarded heart was taken captive, and many silk stockings 
 accompanied as many furbelows through the dance of life 
 thereafter, fascinated with each other in that dance of 
 pleasure. 
 
 His Excellency danced with Miss Alethea, though this is 
 aot one of those matches which we have foretold. Clare 
 danced with Mr. Hamilton; while Mr. Effingham looked on 
 and sighed ; lastly, Kate danced with the noble Earl of 
 Dorset, whose brilliant verses we have listened to upon a 
 similar occasion, at the metropolitan city of Williamsburg, 
 and the fresh, frank face of the child pleased all, and made 
 all love her. As for the sensations experienced by Master 
 Willie Effingham, and Master Tommy Alston who was dying 
 for love of Kate, we prefer not to venture upon such a tragi 
 cal subject. The noble Earl, on that occasion, made two 
 mortal enemies for life. 
 
 So the stately minuets glided onward to the lofty music, 
 rejoicing, one would say, with a low, melodious, well-bred 
 laughter in its undertones at all this pompous ceremony, and 
 graceful reverential bowing, and low curtsying. Then came 
 supper, in due time, where healths were drank many fathoma 
 deep, and where the ladies took scarcely more nourishment 
 than they do at present. Then the gay, glancing, merry
 
 4T THE HALL. ld9 
 
 hours fled on with music once again, and finally, when mid 
 night had long sounded, the ball drew to an end with that 
 merry and enlivening divertisement, a Virginia reel. 
 
 If the music for the minuet was glad and merry, under all 
 its stately and prim cadences, the music of the reel was more 
 than unaffected merriment : the merriment was mad, des 
 perate, exuberant, headlong and uproarious. The right arnc 
 of the noble minstrels darted furiously up and down the 
 violins and hautboys nearly cracked with the immense flood 
 of harmony ; and if the lovely damsels smiled before, they 
 laughed out loudly now : and flashed like shooting stars from 
 end to end of the great room : and scattered perfumed pow 
 der in a cloud : and then, as the mad music stopped with a 
 long scrape, stood still with laughing lips and panting bo 
 soms, and red cheeks and dancing eyes, fanning themselves 
 and uttering little rapturous exclamations, and assuming die 
 away airs : and so the reel too was dead : it ended all. 
 
 Perhaps the most picturesque portion of the whole festi 
 val was the breaking up. In those times, they drank deep, 
 and a gentleman imbibed his two bottles as he wore his sword 
 as a matter of course. The consequence was heads being 
 much the same then as they are at present that more than 
 one of the gallants present on the occasion found themselves 
 elated to the pitch of noisy merriment, and the Effingham 
 woods echoed back their shouts and songs for leagues. 
 
 The chariots resumed their burdens : though many staid 
 at the ball all night the gubernatorial coach, with those six 
 glossy white horses which have become history, bore off his 
 noble Excellency : and amid a tremendous clatter of negroes' 
 voices, cracking whips, rumbling wheels, and merry excla 
 mations, the festival, like all bright things, went onward to the 
 future. 
 
 Mr. Effingham assisted Clare to enter the Riverhead cha 
 riot, with grave softness and courtesy : pressing Hamilton's 
 hand with friendly warmth ; and so the carriage rolled away, 
 and Mr. Effinghaui's heart went with it. 
 
 As he entered his chamber, he murmured as before, " The 
 storm has passed, but all of the old feeling is not dead : 
 beware 1 " and, sleeping with his pale face illumined by the 
 broad full moon, he dreamed of her, and saw her glide before
 
 110 THE HON. MR. CROW, AS AMBASSADOR. 
 
 him with veiled brows and tender eyes and open arms. And 
 when he tried to clasp her to his heart she vanished. 
 
 A shadow crossed the sleeper's forehead, and his hand 
 etole to his brow. Then his face grew serene again tho 
 brow clear and soft. He heard her singing. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 BKETOHES THE COURT TO WHICH THE HON. MR CROW WAS ACCRB 
 DITED AS AMBASSADOR. 
 
 ABSORBED in what has been going on at the Hall, at River- 
 head, at the bachelor Trap of Mr. Hamilton, which has never 
 caught a wife yet for that worthy gentleman, we have treated 
 with undeserved neglect and improper silence the affairs of 
 Lanky and his sweetheart Donsy Smith, daughter of Mr 
 A. Z. Smith, the rosy little factor at Williamsburg. But 
 the historian cannot give his attention at the same time to 
 the Lords and Commons : while the Lords prose in their 
 lofty elevation, the Commons debate furiously in the lower 
 house : and so the entertaining prosiness and fiery debate 
 cannot be reported at one and the same time. For fear, 
 however, that our lame metaphor will break down if we push 
 It farther, and betray its want of application to the characters 
 of this history, we shall proceed to narrate simply what fol 
 lowed the resolution taken on that bright spring morning by 
 our friend Lanky, and how Mr. Crow or " Jeames," as he 
 was wont to call himself with noble simplicity acquitted 
 himself in the arduous and responsible character of Envoy 
 Extraordinary and Minister Plenipotentiary near the Court 
 of Parson Tag, King of the Oldfield School, and Emperor 
 of the Ferule. 
 
 Perhaps the shortest and most satisfactory means of put 
 ting the reader in possession of the events which attended the 
 embassy of the Honorable Mr, Crow will be to present those 
 events in a direct and dramatic form. Then shall we see 
 how umbrage was taken by Emperor Tag, at the person and 
 intent of the ambassador, as well as at his unambassadorial 
 costume : how the right of the Minister Plenipotentiary to 
 appear in his every day citizen's dress was harshly question-
 
 THE HON. MA. CROW, AS AMBASSADOR. 11! 
 
 d ; even his right to appear at all ; and how in the hour of 
 danger that costume afforded him no protection, and led by 
 its deficiencies to a speedy resignation of his high and respon 
 sible duties. Let us not, however, anticipate : every event 
 in its place. 
 
 Willie arrived at school some time after the proper hour, 
 mounted as usual on his small pony, and he entered with some 
 fear of a reproof. But in this he was mistaken. Parson 
 Tag was mildly courteous, and most pleasantly good-humor 
 ed. To explain this singular and unwonted circumstance 
 for the parson usually administered justice like Dionysius, 
 the tyrant we have only to inform the reader that the worthy 
 gentleman had been present at the Hall on the previous even 
 ing, and had delighted his inward man with sundry vianda 
 and vintages of the most savory description. He bad been 
 treated with great courtesy by the well-bred host, also : and 
 thus he was in a highly amiable state of mind especially 
 toward Willie. If the reader is surprised at the fact of the 
 parson's attending the festival at the Hall, after his quarrel 
 with the squire, we can only say that our sketch of this wor 
 thy's character must have been defective. He was not the 
 man to despise an excellent supper and delicious wines, be 
 cause he hated and had quarrelled with the host. 
 
 The school was busy as usual, and a long row of girls and 
 boys stood in the middle of the floor conning their lessons, 
 and preparing for the fiery ordeal. On the benches ranged 
 round the apartment sat many more, leaning their slates, or 
 copy-books, or grammars, on the long desk which extended 
 equally with the benches from end to end ; and these hard 
 little students were engaged apparently in the most intense 
 toil. 
 
 Some grasped their hair furiously at sums in arithmetic, 
 which persisted in turning out wrong : for how could the 
 remainder be greater than the figures from which the others 
 were subtracted ? Some went on voyages of half an hour 
 around the world, taking in spices of Sumatra, Ceylon and 
 the Suuda isles ; fighting their way into inhospitable Japan j 
 taking a census of the population of the exclusive cities of 
 Pekin and Shanghai and other Chinese places . some fought 
 their way into the noble English grammar, others bent down 
 over copy-books, endeavoring painfully to enunciate in legi-
 
 112 THE HON. MR. CROW, AS AMBASSADOR. 
 
 ble letters the propositions that " Honesty is the host poli 
 cy," and that " Evil communications corrupt good man 
 ners : " and when a spatter fell upon the page, the hearts of 
 the urchins were filled with dreadful visions of descending 
 ferules, and aching blistered hands. 
 
 The little maidens were busy, too, in all these branches ; 
 and with atlases before them, heard the nightingales singing 
 in the valley of Cashmere ; and sailed along the Tigris in 
 a splendid barge to visit the great Caliph Haroun at his 
 Bagdad palace ; and swam to the sound of melodious gui 
 tars in gondolas on broad canals in Venice : and looked 
 carefully for the mountain by the royal city of Grenada, 
 whereon pausing wofully, the handsomo Moslem uttered 
 the " last sigh of the Moor." Others were busy with arith 
 metic, and copying just as the boys were ; and the only dif 
 ference was that they did not anticipate chastisement for de 
 linquency. The parson had lived in his adopted country 
 Virginia, that is to say long enough to find that it was not 
 customary for one of the ruder sex, however lofty his station, 
 to lay his hand " even in the way of kindness " upon one of 
 the opposite sex, however humble, and so the little maidens 
 only dreaded " demerits," and these they struggled to avoid. 
 
 What we have thus briefly described, was the exoteric 
 and external appearance of things : which would have 
 struck a stranger, and caused him to believe that of all the 
 scholars that ever gladdened with their industry and appli 
 cation the pedagogic heart, those of the pedagogue in ques 
 tion were the most prudent and exemplary. A somewhat 
 closer view, however, would have revealed what we must 
 borrow another scientific word to characterize the esoteric 
 phase of the Oldfield school. From time to time the 
 maidens and urchins exchanged Jaughing and mysterious 
 glances over their slates or atlases the lips of the damsels 
 would move with exaggerated expressiveness, to the end 
 that from the movement of those cherry-like appendages, 
 their cavaliers might divine what they meant to express. 
 Then when the cavaliers remained obstinately dull and would 
 not understand, the little maidens made signs upon theii 
 fingers, after the well known manner of the dumb ; and when 
 the still obtuse urchins shook their heads, little scraps of 
 paper were hastily covered with stealthy pencil marks, and
 
 THE HON. MR. CB.OW, A8 AMBASSADOR. 113 
 
 rolled up and tossed invisibly across, while the maidens 
 seemed to be deeply immersed in study. And the urching 
 read, " Just look at Sally Jones and Tom Lackland ! " or, 
 " You promised me an apple ! " or, " Have you done tliat 
 horrid sum ? " or, " Robert Dawson don't know his lesson 
 again, and the parson'll whip him. Ain't it shameful ? " 
 
 Another esoteric phase was going on sub rosd, that is, 
 under the desk : small hands of little maidens were squeezed 
 there in the most gallant and impassioned manner by chev 
 aliers who coveted an opportunity to expire nobly in defence 
 of their ladyloves : and fruit, cakes, tarts, biscuits, were 
 smuggled, as lasting proofs of devoted and disinterested af 
 fection : and while the hands were being pressed under the 
 little aprons, the noble cavaliers assumed an innocent and 
 abstracted expression which would have done them credit in 
 the eyes of indifferent observers : and then at the master's 
 dreadful glance the beaus retreated from their sweethearts 
 precipitately, and betook themselves to study : that is, to 
 studying the manner of passing " playtime " to the best ad 
 vantage, turning over the leaves of their spelling-books with 
 well-executed art, and deeply immersed in the study 
 which we have mentioned. 
 
 No event of any importance disturbed the even tenor of 
 the noble academy that morning. True, some half a dozen 
 unfortunate dunces were feruled for being destitute of 
 brains ; true, a youthful gentleman, with a genius for cari 
 cature, was caught just as he had put the finishing touch to 
 a splendid design of the parson on his slate which design 
 represented the worthy gentleman arrayed in a shovel hat 
 some leagues in width, with a body formed of a tobacco 
 hogshead, from beneath which issued an enormous pair of 
 feet crushing to death a squealing tythe pig : true, the 
 wailing of the dunces and the unappreciated artist filled tho 
 room and struck terror into cavalier and lady, boy and girl 
 alike : but these little occurrences were not uncommon, and 
 things went on very pleasantly until li playtime : " when all 
 rushed forth free as air, and wild as little colts turned loose 
 in a green pasture, with liberty to roll, and run, and turn 
 somersets, and gambol to their hearts' content. 
 
 The noble monarch of the school remained within, en 
 throned in state upon his rostrum, from which he surveyed
 
 i!4 AN ORIGINAL STUMP SPEECH. 
 
 the unfortunates, who, having neglected their tasks, now had 
 the excruciating and tantalizing pleasure of hearing their 
 companions shouting at their play out under the blue sky. 
 The noble parson embraced the opportunity to comfort hia 
 inner man with sandwiches and Jamaica rum, gazing, as he 
 partook of these humble condiments and liquids, upon the 
 sketch of himself we have already described. 
 
 Let us leave him there, enthroned in state, and go and 
 breathe that fresh air which is driving the little maids and 
 urchins mad with full delight. It is more wholesome. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 CROW MAKES A SPEECH ON THE STAMP ACT AND SUFFERS TUB 
 FATE OF POPULARITY SEEKERS. 
 
 LOOK! 
 
 Perhaps the two things most similar and at the same 
 time dissimilar, are a play-ground and that work-ground 
 which we call the world. In both these are aspirations and 
 passions ; loves and hatreds ; sad and merry faces ; toilings 
 after objects not worth the pursuit ; and neglected pleasures, 
 which far outweigh those which humanity run after with 
 such ardor and enthusiasm. The child is father of the 
 man ; and his offspring follows the bent of its parent : pur 
 sues;- and loves, and suffers and rejoices, and runs the wild, 
 laughing or despondent race ; and then the bell of fate sum 
 mons the weary player to the shades within, where no sun 
 shines, no blue sky arches overhead save in the eye of 
 faith and hope. 
 
 But with all this similarity, we know that the real differ 
 ence is very striking. How gaily, thoughtlessly, the boy 
 plays, and laughs and rolls upon the grass, and climbs for 
 birds' nests, and is pleased with trifles not dreaming of the 
 time when all his hopes, his illusions, his romance, his 
 thoughtless lightheartedness will change, and he will have to 
 go and buckle on his armor for the struggle with that strong 
 enemy human life. How the little maidens run and play 
 and gambol with their boy sweethearts : their hair flowing
 
 AN ORIGINAL STUMP SPEECH. 115 
 
 unconfined, their eyes dancing for pure merriment, their 
 hearts free as yonder bird's who cuts the blue air on his joy 
 ous wings towards the rosy cast : they know not, will not, 
 cannot believe that the time will come when that hair must 
 be primly bound up ; then turn gray : when those eyes will be 
 dimmed with care and suffering: when those hearts, so wild 
 with pleasure now, will be made to suffer cruelly by some 
 of the little urchins with whom they play now laughingly 
 Let us thank heaven for childhood's lightness, however 
 The spring should not be tried until it is tempered. 
 
 The reign of marbles had come in : and those who have 
 reflected philosophically upon these matters, will recall the 
 fact that schoolboys like men are subject to furores. The 
 games which balls figure in are everlasting always popular : 
 but marbles, prisoner's base, and " fox and a warner " are 
 subject to the laws of change : that is to say, they are at 
 one moment neglected, then placed high upon the throne of 
 popularity. 
 
 Marbles reigned then : nothing wa?s heard for a time 
 on the joyous playground but those cabalistic words, 
 " vence " " things " " leave lag " " come to taw " 
 " stop pokin' " let's plump " " play for havin's " " got 
 my ownses " " fat ! " " knuckle down " " turnin's " 
 etc., etc. We have more than once endeavored to arrive at 
 the origin and philosophic significance of these terms, but 
 always vainly. " Vence " still remains in our minds desti 
 tute of any imaginable root in Hebrew, Sanscrit, Greek or 
 Scandinavian : and the origin of " lag " like that of the 
 popular German beer, is doubtful. 
 
 So they played : and many large proprietors were 
 " broke : " and others acquired large fortunes, which they 
 stowed in their capacious pockets. The girls for the most 
 part played at skipping rope, puss in the corner, and hunt 
 the slipper the soft grass affording a very agreeable eme 
 rald carpet for the purpose : or they partook of the con 
 tents of their little baskets with great gusto, giving a por 
 tion to their non-marble-playing cavaliers, who had finished 
 their own commissary stores some time before. A biscuit 
 from a maiden was considered proof of incipient affection 
 an apple of tenderness but a tart, a real cherry tart, with
 
 i!6 AN ORIGINAL STUMP SPEECH. 
 
 crimson blood, and yellow, crisp delicious crust 1 that was 
 an evidence of passionate and eternal love. 
 
 Having exhausted marbles, the young gentlemen betook 
 themselves to leap-frog, many of them rolling on the grass 
 thereat. The artist of Parson Tag took a forlorn sketch of 
 the scene as he gazed at it mournfully through the window 
 the reader will understand that this young gentleman, in 
 addition to his flagellation, had been kept in and having 
 been obliged with a view of this sketch, which has remained 
 in existence to the present day, we have taken the liberty 
 of using it for the benefit of our readers. It represents the 
 youths in their cutaway coats, and short clothes, and woollen 
 stockings, flying over the heads 'of others, who stoop with 
 their hands upon their knees ; and under a tall oak a group 
 of girls are watching the vaulters, and laughing at those 
 who roll upon the ground, victims to the immoral practice 
 in the steeds, of raising the shoulders as the frogs leap. 
 Among the maidens we recognize Donsy perfectly older 
 than the rest, and laughing louder as Will rolls upon the 
 ground. 
 
 Will breaks up the game, and suggests an undress parade 
 of the Cornstalk regiment, which proposition is hailed with 
 pleasure. Captain Effingharn thereupon marshals his sol 
 diers, using a piece of fence rail for a sword ; and, mounted 
 on a stump, makes them a patriotic address this time unin 
 terrupted wherein he repeats kis father's views upon the 
 Stamp Act, which he believes to be a measure whereby the 
 heads of everybody in the Colony of Virginia are to be 
 chopped off. He denounces it, therefore, and calls on his 
 companions to organize an opposition to the tyrant ; and 
 concludes with the observation that there is for himself but 
 one alternative either victory or death 1 
 
 This speech is much admired, and a tmall storm of cheera 
 crackle through the air ; filling the orator's bosom with grate 
 ful emotion ; his soldiers, however, decline hearing any more, 
 as Donsy is heard to scream terribly : and they rush towards 
 her to ascertain the origin of her emotion. 
 
 It was very simple. Just as Master Will had arrived at 
 the grand burst, in which, as we have said, he declared his 
 sentiments on the subject of death and victory, Donsy Smith 
 who had been listening admiringly, heard a low whistle be
 
 AN ORIGINAL STUMP SPEECH. 117 
 
 hind her shoulder, and, turning her head, her cherry lips had 
 nearly impressed a salute upon those of Mr. Crow, who sat 
 squat behind her, grinning and goggle-eyed resembling, 
 indeed, a small goblin of Ethiopian extraction. 
 
 Mr. Crow, finding himself the observed of all observers, 
 marched forth into the open space, the thumb of one hand in 
 his mouth, the other hand holding up the skirts of his lengthy 
 coat. He seemed to feel that he was well worth seeing, and 
 to court observation j his costume was, if possible, more di 
 plomatic than ever, and his eyes brighter. His appearance 
 was hailed with a great shout, immediately a dozen hands 
 seized him, and he was hoisted to the stump, and ordered to 
 make a speech at once, on pain of dreadful punishment. 
 
 Mr. Crow does not display extraordinary confusion at 
 this honour, does not press his hand upon his waistcoat, or 
 the portion of the frame usually covered with that garment; 
 does not bow or simper. He looks around with an expres 
 sion of modest confidence and amiable good nature, sucking 
 his thumb. 
 
 " A speech ! " they cry. 
 
 " A speech from Crow I " 
 
 " Hurrah ! " 
 
 Mr. Crow takes his thumb from his mouth, and finding 
 himself in a difficulty, draws upon Mr. William Effingham's 
 ideas, which he has listened to with great attention. 
 
 " Well, gemblem," he says, with modesty, " I'se oppose, 
 myself, to dis stump ac." 
 
 " Hurrah 1 " cry the scholars, " speak out, Crow." 
 
 " I'se gwine to 'pose it ! " continues Crow, extending 
 his right arm, with an electric gesture. The crowd shout and 
 hurrah. 
 
 "I'se gwine myself to 'pose choppin' off my head I--- 
 'Two'nt do noways, gemblem 1 Just think how a feller 'd 
 feel 1 " 
 
 This sentiment produces loud applause, which Mr. Crow 
 acknowledges by waving the hand holding his coat tail, and, 
 consequently, that portion of his vestment also. 
 
 " I'se gwine to go agin it to death I " continues Crow, 
 with an heroic gesture, " I wants my head ! how could I eat 1 
 bow gwiue to drink 1 how gwine to do nothin' 1 'thout a head. 
 Them's my seniiners, gemblem I say victry or deth."
 
 118 AN ORIGINAL STUMP SPEECH. 
 
 And Crow brandishes both arms tremendou&ly, and fights 
 imaginary foes. His speech is received with tremendous ap 
 plause, and a popular ovation is organized in an instant. 
 Mounted on a rail, which is borne on the shoulders of half 
 a dozen of the scholars, who split their sides laughing, the 
 orator makes the circuit of the play-ground triumphantly. 
 To be sure, the ovation, like all such things, has its disad 
 vantages, and Crow makes more than one appeal to be per 
 mitted to sink into obscurity again. But these entreaties 
 are disregarded, and he only has leave to change his horse 
 back position from time to time, by leaning forward on his 
 hands. 
 
 He says it hurts ! they reply that it can't possibly. 
 " Oh yes, it do !" says Crow, writhing. " Stuff your coat tails 
 under you," say the urchins. Crow resigns himself, with tho 
 air of a great man in misfortune, when suddenly the bell 
 rings, and the rail and, consequently, Crow drops to the 
 ground. 
 
 Crow lies there until Donsy passes, rubbing his knees. 
 
 The master appears at the door : Crow's back being 
 turned he does not see him. 
 
 Donsy draws near, laughing. Crow makes mysterious 
 signals to her, which, at last, attract her attention. 
 
 Crow shows a letter, pushing it at her : Donsy bends 
 down her laughing face, and asks what in the world he 
 means. Crow makes mysterious signs of silence and pre 
 caution. Donsy stretches out her hand to take the letter, 
 upon the back of which she reads her own name, written in 
 large, sprawling characters. Crow winks Donsy smiles 
 when, suddenly, the letter is grasped by a rough hand Crow 
 starts up, under the application of a switch, and Parson Tag, 
 pursuing him, with infuriated visage, calls upon him by the 
 designations of " rascal," " villain," and " wretch," to stop. 
 
 Crow runs for life the parson pursues for the gratifi 
 cation of revenge his skirts flying, his puffy breast heaving 
 with the exertion and his wrath.
 
 HOVT THE AMBASSADOR WAS UNHORSED, ETC. 1 10 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 HOW THE AMBASSADOR WAS UNHORSED AND THEN HORSED 
 
 THE muse is proverbially jealous and capricious else would 
 we endeavor to describe the greater than Olympic race which 
 then ensued : the windings, the turnings, the desperate 
 efforts of the great orator and ambassador to escape the im 
 pending fate. Still thundered on behind him like an aveng 
 ing Nemesis the irate parson, and Crow saw the shadow of 
 his outstretched arm grasping at his coat tails. 
 
 New rapidity is added to his headlong speed : he runs 
 like a deer, and bounds like an antelope : when, most disas 
 trous event ! event ever to be deplored by Crow and all his 
 posterity ! his feet trod on his coat-skirts, and, rolling 
 on the ground, he became the prey of the enemy. 
 
 They had circled back to the school-house ; and the par 
 son had not far to bear his captive, whom he grasped by the 
 waistband of his unmentionables and indescribables. 
 
 He enters in awful state with gloomy brow, portentous 
 frown. The assembled company are terror-struck, and regard 
 Crow with horror and trembling, but with interest too : as 
 in old days the populace of Rome looked on the ox going to 
 the altar to be immolated. 
 
 The parson looks round for a moment in silence : he 
 regards Donsy with an awful frown. 
 
 " What is this letter, brought by that villain ? " he saya 
 to her. 
 
 Donsy blushes and murmurs : 
 
 " Indeed I don't know, sir." 
 
 " You do not know ? " 
 
 " ladeed, I don't know, sir." 
 
 " Dousy Smith, you are telling me a falsehood ! " Bays 
 the worthy, with a deeper frown. 
 
 Donsy flushes to the roots of her hair, and looks indig 
 nant. 
 
 " I never did tell a falsehood in my life ! " she says, 
 Bobbing. 
 
 " Very well, madam ! " replies the parson, " we shall see ! 
 I have a notion that this letter will c?ear up matters, and as
 
 i2ft HOW THE AMfcASSAfcOR WAS UNHORSED, fiTC. 
 
 your preceptor and spiritual guide, I shall open it. William 
 Lane," continues the worthy, addressing the author of the 
 sketch of himself, " take care that that rascal who brought 
 this does not escape. Hold him tight, sir." 
 
 William Lane holds Crow tightly by the collar, and sur 
 veys him with forlorn interest, thinking he would make a 
 good sketch. 
 
 The parson without further preface tears open the letter 
 and reads the following words, written in large uneven cha 
 racters, with the end of a stick apparently. 
 
 " Oh my dear Miss Donsy ! 
 
 " How ken I express myself writin' to you. I feel all 
 over a-tremblin' and skeered, and I'm 'fraid the pen 'ill 
 drop from my hand 'fore I get thru. I couldent tell you 
 how much there it is, comin' right out. Oh my dear Don- 
 ey, if I may call you my dear Donsy, which I'm 'fraid you'll 
 git mad. Nobody in the whole wide world ken love you 
 like I do. 'Deed they can't I've been a-lovin' you now for 
 one year and you don't know it, or perhaps you do, if so i'm 
 mistaken' I told the cap'n that I couldn't say nothin' when 
 you was lookin 1 at me, and he told me to go and talk to you 
 and look up bold and not giv' up : I tried to, but I couldent, 
 and you know how you twisted me over yo thum, i don't 
 complain i don't but I think you ought to like me sum, 
 cause I've been faithful to you, and never would have any 
 thing to do with Sally Jones, who is a pretty girl too, you 
 know. 
 
 " And now my dear Miss Donsy or if you'll let me call 
 you so, my dearest Donsy, take pity on poor Lanky ; I love 
 you a heap, and I think you ought to like me sum , i can't 
 play on my fiddle or work for thinkin' of you, and I never 
 can forget you no I can't. I thought I'd write it down, as 
 I couldn't say it, and Crow will carry it : the black boy from 
 town, you know. 
 
 " ! Donsy, I love you so much, indeed I do. So no more 
 from your friend, till death, and loving, 
 
 " LANKY." 
 
 " Poscrip'. Don't show this to any body, and don't let 
 the girls or boys see it, they would laugh at me i if I
 
 HOW THE AMBASSADOR WAS UNttORSfiD, ETC. 121 
 
 eould only do somsthin' for you kill somebody, or do some- 
 thin' of that sort, you know. 
 
 " Your lover till death, 
 
 " LANKY." 
 
 " Poscrip' agin. To-morrow's Saturday, and the cap'n 
 says I may have holida'. I'm comin' to see you, and we can 
 go a fishin', you know. You've caught my heart, O ! my 
 dear Miss Donsy, or rather, dearest Donsy. 
 
 " Your devoted lover till death, 
 
 " LANKY." 
 
 The parson reads this epistle with a countenance working 
 with rage. 
 
 " And you dared to bring this, did you ! " he says to the 
 unfortunate Crow, who rubs his coat cuff in his eyes despond- 
 ingly, " you are the black boy from town the letter speaks 
 of, are you ! You are the villain that dared to come and 
 hold surreptitious intercourse with my female .scholars, bear 
 ing amatory missives, like this barbarous production ! you 
 are the messenger, are you ! " 
 
 Crow does not understand the meaning of " amatory 
 missive," and " barbarous production," but he feels a dread 
 ful consciousness that he is guilty of committing those two 
 crimes, which he regards with horror, and fears a terrible 
 punishment for. He is not suffered to remain long in doubt. 
 The parson, rolling up his cuffs, and grasping a long and pliant 
 birch, cries : 
 
 " Horse the villain ! You, sir ! you William Lan* 
 immediately, sir." 
 
 And Crow, spite of his desperate struggles, is placed 
 upon the back of Mr. William Lane. The parson looks at 
 him for a moment, with gloomy and irate interest: Crow, 
 with his head turned sideways, regards the dreadful birch, 
 and calculates the impending ruin. His hands are held 
 tightly by the " horse : " his coat skirts are arranged grace 
 fully upon each side : his legs kick the air : the hour was 
 come. 
 
 " Now, you rascal 1 " says the parson, " I have caught 
 you ! 
 
 And the birch descends upon the unfortunate Crow, who 
 writhes with anguish.
 
 122 BOW THE AMBASSADOR WAS aNHORSED, ETC. 
 
 " Now, you've caught it ! " cries the parson, whistling his 
 birch through the air, and bringing it down upon the repent 
 ant ambassador again. 
 
 " Oh, mas' parson ! oh, mas' parson ! " cries Crow. 
 
 The blows fall thicker the ambassador cries out more 
 loudly the parson pants with the exertion the unfortunate 
 Crow writhes. 
 
 " Try that again, sir ? " says the parsou, striking quicke/ 
 
 Crow protests with overwhelming earnestness, that he 
 has repented will reform. Debarred from using persuasive 
 gestures with his arms, he kicks his legs, following uncon 
 sciously the great precept of Demosthenes. 
 
 Donsy looks on with indignation, and she does not care 
 to conceal it. The parson sees this expression, and says, in 
 a pause of his exertions : 
 
 " Very well, my lady ! you are presuming to frown when 
 I am punishing this wretch ! " 
 
 " It is unjust ! " cries Donsy. 
 
 " Take care, madam ! " 
 
 " It is ! " sobs Donsy, " and you had no right to snatch 
 my letter and read it : that you hadn't, sir 1 " 
 
 And she sheds a torrent of mortified tears the parson 
 regarding her with a mixture of surprise, scorn, and anger. 
 
 " You presume, then, to lecture me, madam 1 " he says. 
 
 Donsy repeats obstinately : 
 
 " You had no right to read my letter ! no, you hadn't ! " 
 
 The parson takes a step toward the girl. 
 
 " Don't provoke me you little hussy ! " he says, " or I'll 
 whip you too." 
 
 " Me ! " cries Donsy, overwhelmed with indignation, and 
 dread of the disgraceful punishment. 
 
 " Yes, you 1 I'll whip you, within an inch of your life ! " 
 
 H No, you won't 1 " cries Will Effingham, starting up, 
 "just try it!" 
 
 But before the parson can turn round, this champion is 
 Bunk into the shade immediately : the door bursts open with 
 a loud mise a stool is turned over, and Donsy has a second 
 and more irate champion,
 
 CfcARIOT AND FOUR COMES TO THE aSCUB. 123 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 IN WHICH A CHARIOT AND FOUE HOKSE8 COMES TO THE RESCUE. 
 
 THE new champion is no other than our friend Lanky but 
 so disguised that we should scarcely have known him by 
 twilight. He wears an old cocked hat of the Captain's, a 
 pair of his cast-off boots, and around his waist is buckled an 
 old sword, which clatters against his boots : all which deco 
 rations he has assumed by the advice of the soldier, to make 
 an impression on the heart of his ladylove. 
 
 Lanky had followed his messenger, seen the capture of 
 his letter, the pursuit of Crow, and the capture of that gen 
 tleman : he had gone to the door when it was closed ; seen 
 the parson reading disdainfully, the splendid epistle which 
 it had taken him a week to concoct ; and then witnessed 
 the sacrifice of Mr. Crow : all this with anger and indigna 
 tion which gradually grew hotter, and began to boil within 
 him. Then he had seen Donsy remonstrate, had heard the 
 parson threaten her lastly had seen him advance toward 
 that empress of his heart, with an upraised rod to inflict 
 upon his Donsy a disgraceful punishment. Then he boiled 
 over, rage carried him away he burst open the door, and 
 rushed in, regardless of consequences. 
 
 The parson turns, with a tremendous frown upon his 
 visage. 
 
 " Try it I yes, try it ! " cries Lanky, drawing his sword 
 and boiling over, as we have observed, with indignation, "just 
 touch Donsy 1 let me see you 1 " 
 
 The scholars gaze at the champion, and tremble. 
 
 " Yes, it's shameful to be a threatenin' a girl ! you know 
 it is I " continues Lanky, trembling with excitement, and 
 stamping upon the floor with his great feet ; " a man who 
 would hurt a girl don't deserve any sort o' respect ! " 
 
 The parson, for a moment paralyzed by the audacity of 
 the intruder, and doubting whether he is not some grand 
 seigneur makes no reply : but suddenly recognizes Lanky : 
 Lanky the country bumpkin : Lanky the barbarous heathen, 
 ignorant even of the existence of syntax and prosody : 
 Lanky the scum of the earth. He starts forward to attack 
 him.
 
 .24 A CHARIOT AND FOUR COMES TO TttE RESCUE. 
 
 But Donsy interposes to protect her cavalier she seizes 
 the uplifted rod. The parson utters a cry of rage, and en 
 deavors to release his arm, and strike the girl. 
 
 Lanky rushes at him thereupon, and grapples with him 
 furiously Donsy screams Crow rolls the parson strug 
 gles with his enemy, and with one of the quick movements 
 of his elbow, strikes Donsy, who falls into the arms of Will 
 Effingham, rushing to her rescue. 
 
 Lanky, driven to fury, clenches his teeth, throws his 
 whole weight upon his antagonist's hreast, and they both fall, 
 Lanky's sword -striking against the benches with an awful 
 clatter. 
 
 " Murder ! " cries the parson. 
 
 " Oh Lanky ! " says Donsy. 
 
 " Go it ! " says Will. 
 
 But Lanky cannot strike a prostrate foe : had he been a 
 knight of the middle age, his martial sword no doubt would 
 have entered the breast of his enemy. But Lanky is a 
 simple country young gentleman of the eighteenth century, 
 and he rises. 
 
 The parson starts to his feet again, furious, raging : he 
 seizes the tongs : he launches those useful instruments at 
 Lanky, and knocks down the unfortunate Crow, who disap 
 pears like a ball of charcoal through the open door, and is 
 no more seen. 
 
 Lanky thereupon draws his sword : the parson seizes 
 a stick of wood : Lanky brandishes the deadly weapon 
 the parson grasps his billet ; the bitter enemies prepare for 
 the final and decisive charge, the great struggle which shall 
 decide all. 
 
 This is the position of affairs, when there appears at the 
 door a martial and stalwart looking gentleman, with a long 
 black moustache and laughing face, who cries in loud, stri 
 dent tones, 
 
 " M&rbleu, ! Diable ! Sacre ! Why it's Lanky ! " 
 
 And overcome by the ludicrous figure of the parson and 
 the intensely warlike attitude of Lanky, Captain Ralph 
 bursts into a loud laugh. Lanky turns at this noise, recog 
 nizes his master, and dutifully lowers his sword. 
 
 " Qiie le diablel" cries the Captain, laughing again. 
 " Was the like ever seen ? What 1 fighfing the clergy, yof 
 villain ? I'm ashamed of you 1 "
 
 A CHARIOT AND FOUR COMES TO THE RESCUE. 125 
 
 Lanky restores his weapon to its place, and hangs hii 
 head. 
 
 " He wanted to whip Donsy," says Lanky. 
 
 " Whip a girl ? 
 
 " Yes, Cap'n." 
 
 " Bah ! is that possible, reverend sir ? It cannot be 
 that you would have struck a child, and that child a 
 girl?" 
 
 The parson draws himself up haughtily, and drops the 
 stick of wood. 
 
 " Permit me, if you please, sir," he says, looking side- 
 wise at his interlocutor, " to act as seems proper to me in 
 my own school 1 " 
 
 " Basta ! I shall permit no such thing ! Ah ! your 
 reverence, you are greatly mistaken if you think the State 
 of Virginia is like the frontier of Germany. You will 
 recollect." 
 
 The parson looks gloomily at the Captain, striving to 
 recognize him. 
 
 " Who are you, sir ? " he says. 
 
 "Mafoi! Waters is my name, and you will recollect 
 that we had the pleasure of carrying a halberd, side by side, 
 somewhere about the year '55. Eh ? Well, sir, I repeat 
 that your reverence can no longer carry the high hand, and 
 make the women and girls scream, as you once used to, when 
 you drove them in crowds from their quarters in the villages. 
 Bah I you disgust me, you great gobemouche, and I think 
 that Lanky must decidedly have been in the right." 
 
 Strange and tremendous to relate, the parson no longer 
 looks bold, or retains his proud, haughty attitude ; he cowers 
 before the disdainful words of the soldier , he permits Lanky 
 to make his report without interruption. The Captain ex 
 onerates Lanky, but observes that, as a general rule, it is 
 improper to attack the clergy with carnal weapons, and then 
 makes a sign to Donsy, who approaches, sobbing. 
 
 " Ah, my dear Miss Donsy," he says, gallantly, " I as 
 sure you I understand perfectly Lanky's infatuation now ! 
 But believe me, if you have a pretty face, Lanky has a warm 
 and excellent heart bon garqon ! and as true as steel, with 
 that pine knot head of his. N ow see 1 I am sure the par 
 m will treat you well in future, for my sake."
 
 126 A CHARIOT AND POUR COMES TO THE RESCUE. 
 
 The parson feels himself in his enemy's power: he ii 
 growing humbler and humbler. 
 
 " Come, don't cry," says the worthy Captain, " that is 
 bad." 
 
 " I'm not well, sir. I have been sick lately. I'm not 
 crying, sir." 
 
 With which Donsy sobs. 
 
 " Morbleu ! I never could bear tears. Egad ! I'll tako 
 you home. Where do you live ? " 
 
 "In town, sir." 
 
 " Too far to walk if you are unwell ; faith ! you shall go 
 with me." 
 
 Donsy looks at the parson dutifully, who nods a sullen 
 assent, and says to the Captain : 
 
 " I'm afraid your horse will not carry us both, sir." 
 
 " My horse ? I have none." 
 
 " Sir ? " says Donsy. 
 
 " I can offer you better than a horse, Miss Donsy," says 
 the Captain, and he leads her out, Lanky following. 
 
 Not. far from the door stands a splendid chariot, with 
 four fine pawing horses, reined in by a plethoric coachman. 
 Behind on the shining footboard stands another servant, and 
 the whole equipage is in the richest and finest taste. Lanky's 
 eyes expand to the dimensions of saucers ; the Captain 
 laughs. 
 
 " My new coach, pardy ! " he says.' " Permit me to in 
 troduce it to you, Mr. Lanky ; just arrived, and my jewels 
 with it." 
 
 " Your coach, sir ? " says Lanky, in an attitude of 
 wonder. 
 
 " Yes, indeed." 
 
 " Your jewels, sir ? " 
 
 " Pardy ! " 
 
 "Oh, Cap'n!" 
 
 And after this supreme exhibition of surprise, Lanky re 
 mains in a trance of wonder and admiration. 
 
 " I heard that infernal racket you were raising in there," 
 Bays the Captain, as he leads Donsy towards the chariot, 
 " and felt a presentiment that you and your new ornaments 
 had something to do with it. I jumped out entered I 
 Voila toute ! "
 
 A CHARIOT AND FOUR COMES TO THE RESCUE. 127 
 
 And the Captain assists Donsy in, and motions Lanky to 
 follow. 
 
 " Oh, Cap'n ! " says Lanky. 
 
 And this is all he can say. The Captain enters last, the 
 door is closed, and, wheeling round, the coach takes the 
 road toward Williamsburg, which it has just left. Lanky 
 preserves the silence of admiration and triumph. His stal 
 wart arm has rescued his lady love ; a fairy chariot rolls up 
 to bear her and him away from the enemy's clutches ; he 
 rides in state, on velvet cushions, his head reposing, like a 
 proud, gigantic pine knot, on the silken lining of the vehicle. 
 He looks at Donsy, who sobs in one corner, and he can make 
 no reply to his master's raillery. 
 
 The small shop of Mr. A. Z. Smith, factor, is thrown 
 into a tremendous excitement by the coach stopping before 
 the door, and Mr. A. Z. Smith issues forth, hat in hand. 
 He is anxious to know the wishes of his Honor, who, with 
 out replying, hands out Donsy, to his profound astonishment. 
 Lanky greets Mr. A. Z. Smith with dignified courtesy, and 
 offers his arm to lead Donsy in, with his nose in the air. 
 
 The Captain now explains all, with a profusion of mor- 
 bleus and laughter. Mr. A. Z. Smith vituperates the par 
 son with his wheezy little voice, and when Captain Ralph 
 empties a cup of rum with him, Lanky's prospects have 
 taken a great stride. That young gentleman makes the ap 
 pointment to go on a fishing ramble in the morning, being 
 Saturday, and then he re-enters the coach with the air of a 
 nobleman, his hand upon his hip, his hat cocked over one 
 eye, his boots clattering, his sword making a martial clangor, 
 as it bangs against the door. Captain Ralph regards these 
 things with a smile, and says, " to the Raleigh." 
 
 They stop before the tavern. Lanky does not stir. 
 
 " Get out, you villain ! " says the Captain ; and Lanky 
 flies out like a rocket. 
 
 " Oh, Cap'n ! " he observes. 
 
 " I have determined not to make my visit," says the 
 Captain. " I shall return home on Selim ; you need not 
 wait, Lanky, as you will walk." 
 
 And the Captain twirls his mustaches, with a laugh, and 
 enters the tavern. As for Lanky, he gazes after him for a 
 moment, sighs, pulls his hat over his eyes, and sets out for
 
 128 THE AUTHOR OF THE MS. EXPLAINS SUNDRY THINGS. 
 
 home, with the philosophic reflection that one cannot alwaya 
 ride in chariots. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 THE AUTHOE OF THE MS. EXPLAINS 8UNDBY THINGS PERTINENT 
 TO THIS HISTORY. 
 
 ' I HAVE endeavored in portions of the preceding pages," 
 says the author of the MS., " to trace the changes of feeling 
 in two different persons, whose fortunes enter largely into 
 this narrative. In the first place, I have tried to show how 
 Miss Henrietta Lee proud, high-spirited, aristocratic, and 
 full of well-bred contempt for every one not unmistakably 
 a gentleman in blood on their first interviews, regarded 
 Captain Ralph Waters, the honest and high-minded soldier 
 with great disdain. I have shown how she addressed him, 
 when she condescended to do so, with frigid coldness ; re 
 sented his easy sang froid in her presence, as a deliberate 
 offence ; summoned all her pride of blood and rank to sup 
 press her audacious admirer's ease, and reduce him to hia 
 proper place. We have seen her in repeated interviews, pre 
 serve this coldness less and less ; then complain of him, 
 having lost her silent disdain ; then launch forth into an 
 obstinate, hand-to-hand encounter of wit with the soldier, 
 finally, begin to be amused at his unaffected nonchalance, bis 
 martial and brilliant narratives of the campaigns he had 
 fought almost from his boyhood to the present hour; and 
 feel some anxiety to rescue her character from the imputation 
 of preferring the exact antipode of himself the fop ! 
 
 " Miss Henrietta Lee was, of course, not conscrous of 
 this gradual change of feeling towards the soldier. For not 
 one person in ten thousand ever becomes aware of his or her 
 feelings until some great crisis reveals them in their strength 
 and power. It is a common adage, that we do not know how 
 much we love certain persons until we have lost them ; and 
 this is but one instance, taken from a thousand, of the truth 
 of the observation I have made. 
 
 " But if Miss Henrietta Lee was not aware of her change 
 of feeling toward Captain Ralph Waters, she must have felt 
 that he was not wholly the same to her as formerly she
 
 PERTINENT TO THIS HISTORY. 2 
 
 must have perceived that she no longer looked upon him with 
 cold disdain, lordly contempt; that was no longer possible. 
 
 ' She had prepared herself to encounter the rude and 
 offensive manners of a mere camp-soldier ; a rough man, who 
 had won her father's friendship by relating the incidents of 
 the war in Europe. She had expected to find simply a dis 
 agreeable, vulgar individual, who knew nothing of the rules 
 of good society, who would stumble over the chairs, commit 
 eternal gaucheries, make himself a nuisance and an eye-sore. 
 All this she had expected, and she was deceived. She found 
 a man who was quite cognizant of the rules of good breed 
 ing, who bowed with the utmost grace, and with the excep 
 tion of his French expletives, was quite irreproachable. 
 
 " She did not come to this conclusion without a struggle 
 with herself; and she tried to say disdainfully, that all this 
 was affected, that he was a mere adventurer, that he was 
 ashamed of his origin, and wished to rise from the class in 
 which he was born. But the disdainful smile disappeared, 
 her scorn she felt was unjust ; and Henrietta Lee, with her 
 proud, wealthy nature, never committed a deliberate injustice. 
 She was above that, and this sincerity of character now made 
 her confess to herself that in imagining Captain Waters a 
 mere adventurer, ashamed of his origin, and seeking to con 
 ceal it, she was mistaken. The Captain had a score of times 
 taken occasion to say that he was the son of a fisherman, 
 with the most unaffected calmness ; that he was proud of his 
 father and his brother ; and it was very plain that this pride 
 and affection was not put on for the nonce, or it would never 
 have been spoken of so often. No; Captain Waters was 
 not ashamed of his lineage ; he had not been bred up in the 
 midst of the singularly graded society of the colony ; he 
 &lt no inferiority in the presence of any one, that was plain. 
 The commander over him in battle was his superior not the 
 citizen who wore finer clothes, and had a finer ancestry. 
 What Charles Waters arrived at by logic, the Captain came 
 to by pure instinct, and the instinct had been stronger than 
 the logic. No ; Captain Waters was not desirous to hide hia 
 low birth ; he did not apologize for it, he did not regret it 
 he regarded it as a circumstance in his life of small impor 
 tance, as long as he was the fearless soldier, the honest heart 
 All this was plain to Henrietta, 
 20
 
 130 THE AUTHOR OF THE MS. EXPLAINS SUNDRY THINGS 
 
 " Now, when a proud nature finds that it has done in 
 justice, the first result is a strong reaction in opposition 
 to the former sentiment. The proud, brilliant mind of 
 Henrietta Lee had never stooped to any petty meanness, and 
 those who suffered from her wit and liked her least, confessed 
 that she had never been guilty of narrow and illiberal 
 things, even. Her aristocratic feeling was a portion of her 
 blood uncontrollable ; and this she did not regard as wrong 
 at all. So when she found that she had done Captain 
 Waters injustice she began to like him, and to laugh in 
 private over his amusing stories ; and with the natural feel 
 ing of her sex, to admire those martial traits of the soldier 
 which she had quarrelled with. 
 
 " We need not proceed at present to trace the change of 
 sentiment farther ; in future pages of this history the reader 
 will perceive what further attended this young lady's re 
 vulsion of feeling toward her admirer. I shall proceed now 
 to speak of my respected ancestor Champ Emngham, Esq., 
 and his feelings briefly. 
 
 " I need not repeat the description of his own feelings 
 given by himself to his friend Mr. Hamilton, and had one 
 not listened to that monologue, I suppose none could fail to 
 have conceived a very accurate idea of this gentleman's char 
 acter from the former portion of the history. Let me then 
 pass at once to the first interview between himself and Miss 
 Clare Lee, the tender and sincere woman, whom I have given 
 so little space to in this narrative. His heart had experienced 
 a deeper emotion in that interview than he chose to confess ; 
 he was not perfectly calm, though his long apathy had given 
 him the habit of suppressing every emotion with a rod of 
 iron. No ; her soft, tender face, so full of former happiness, 
 and eloquent of his far golden youth, shone on him like a 
 bright harvest moon full of peace, and joy, and love. His 
 dull blood had leaped, his stagnant heart had throbbed ; 
 once more he experienced a sensation of that pure, delicate, 
 tender joy, which is never found in fiery, devouring passions. 
 He felt that his mad infatuation had scarcely diminished 
 that sentiment shrined far back in the recesses of his heart ; 
 that the flame had not reached those depths ; the MS. re 
 cording his bright youth had not been burned ; all then was 
 still the same : as clear as ever.
 
 PERTINENT TO THIS HISTORY. 13i 
 
 " Still he determined to avoid Clare sedulously, and for a 
 double reason : first shame, and then fear. Not that my 
 worthy ancestor was really ashamed of his infatuation 
 ashamed in the ordinary meaning of the term. I am afraid 
 that his headstrong nature seldom felt the sentiment. But 
 he experienced a rational doubt of his reception at River- 
 head by the young girl whose heart he had so cruelly tried ; 
 whose pure, tender love, he had slighted for a wild passion. 
 He did not fancy playing the repentant striking his breast 
 and crying mea culpd ! pity ! This was quite out of the 
 question in the present instance with Mr. Effingham, and to 
 avoid all disagreeable scenes, he resolved to continue in 
 Virginia the resolution he had adopted on the Continent ; 
 here as there, he would avoid all women. 
 
 " I have said that my respected ancestor's second 
 sentiment was fear that is fear of himself. After that 
 volcano-like explosion, he dreaded his own passions ; he was 
 perfectly well convinced that when aroused, these passions 
 were as fetterless as the wind ; and he indulged, what seems 
 to me looking back now on his character, a rational fear of 
 his feelings. 
 
 " But Mr. Hamilton had by a word on the day of the 
 fox-huut, persuaded him to conquer both these sentiments, 
 and enter. Then he felt that his resolution was not very 
 strong ; that the very strength of feeling which caused him 
 to make those precautionary resolutions, now led him to break 
 them at a single word. 
 
 " He spent the day ; and all that day the feeling that he 
 loved her still was gaining ground : he dwelt on her tender 
 face with pensive, drooping eyes, the faint weary smile 
 growing brighter as he went over the soft past , he experi 
 enced a strange emotion of purity and gentleness in her 
 presence; she seemed to make the world bright for him again, 
 throwing a new light on the landscape of his life, like dawn 
 after the dim moonlight, or the white glare of snow. 
 
 " That song which he had heard her sing so often in the 
 past the happy golden past, when he was young and loved 
 her so tenderly came finally to complete his change of 
 feeling, and he knew that he loved her more than ever 
 far more ; more profoundly, truly, tenderly. Then, at 
 the same moment, he saw her giving kind glances to hi>
 
 132 HOW THE ClLONY OF VIRGINIA 
 
 friend, and all of these glances pierced his soul ; but his 
 face did not move, only the shadow returned. He went as 
 quietly as he came, speaking with his eyes only, and those 
 eyes asked nothing. When he lost sight of her his head 
 drooped. 
 
 " The evening at the hall was a great trial ; it was plain 
 that she and Hamilton were little less than lovers she was 
 so kind he so devotedly attentive. He spoke to her but 
 once or twice, and then calmly and quietly ; and, as we have 
 seen, pressed Mr. Hamilton's hand with a warmth which 
 indicated something more than regret at parting. Thus he 
 laid no claim to her heart he felt it was gone from him. 
 But he could dream of her; and how he dreamt I have 
 related. 
 
 " These few words of comment will enable the reader to 
 comprehend more easily the events which follow. Though 
 preferring to write down what the characters of my history 
 said to each other, from the conviction that their traits are 
 most easily developed by themselves, I have thought fit to 
 pause here, to speak thus briefly in my own person of Captain 
 Waters, and my respected ancestor. I now proceed." 
 
 CHAPTER XXL 
 
 HOW THE WHOLE COLONY OP VIEQINIA WENT TO THE JAMESTOWN 
 EACES, AND WHAT ENSUED. 
 
 THE races ! 
 
 That word always produces a strong effect upon men 
 in the South ; and w hen the day fixed upon for the James 
 town races comes, the country is alive for miles around with 
 persons of all classes and descriptions. 
 
 As the hour of noon approaches, the ground swarms 
 with every species of the genus homo; Williamsburg and 
 the seafaring village of Jamestown turn out en masse, and 
 leave all occupations for the exciting turf. 
 
 As the day draws on the crowd becomes more dense. 
 The splendid chariots of the gentry roll up to the stand ; 
 and group themselves around it, in a position to overlook
 
 WENT TO THE JAMESTC.WN RACES. 135 
 
 the race-course, and through the wide windows are seen the 
 sparkling eyes and powdered locks, and diamonds and gay 
 silk and velvet dresses of those fair dames who lent such 
 richness and picturesque beauty to the old days dead now so 
 long ago in the far past. The fine looking old planters too 
 are decked in thoir holiday suits, their powdered hair is tied 
 into queues behind with neat black ribbon, and they descend 
 and mingle with their neighbors, and discuss the coming 
 festival. 
 
 Gay youths, in rich brilliant dresses, caracole up to the 
 carriages on fiery steeds, to display their horsemanship, and 
 exchange compliments with their friends, and make pretty 
 speeches, which are received by the bright-eyed damsels 
 with little ogles, and flirts of their variegated fans, and rap 
 turous delight. 
 
 Meanwhile the crowd grows each moment, as the flood 
 pours in from the north, the south, the east, the west from 
 every point of the compass, and in every species of vehicle. 
 There are gay parties of the yeomen and their wives and 
 daughters, in carryalls and wagons filled with straw, upon 
 which chairs are placed : there are rollicking fast men if 
 we may use the word becoming customary in our own day 
 who whirl in, in their curricles : there are barouches and 
 chairs, spring wagons and carts, all full, approaching in 
 every way from a sober walk to a furious headlong dash, all 
 " going to the races." There are horsemen who lean for 
 ward, horsemen who lean back ; furious, excited horsemen, 
 urging their steeds with whip and spur ; cool, quiet horsemen, 
 who ride erect and slowly : there are, besides, pedestrians 
 of every class and appearance, old and young, male and female, 
 black and white all going to the races. 
 
 These latter gather around the booths erected by the stand 
 and discuss the various mixtures of Jamaica there displayed 
 in tempting array ; and near by, all varieties of edibles are 
 set out, and attacked. Ale foams ; healths (and individuals) 
 are drunk ; bets are made. 
 
 The vulgar blacklegs, if we may speak so disrespectfully 
 of that large and influential class, congregate temporarily 
 around the tables where a dozen games of chance are ex 
 hibited ; and here they amuse themselves while awaiting 
 the great supreme gambling of the race.
 
 i34 HOW THE COLONY OF VIRGINIA 
 
 The crowd is all in a buzz, which at times rises to a 
 shout ; it undulates like a stormy sea ; it rolls and mur 
 murs, and rumbles and laughs in a word, it has come to 
 see the races. 
 
 The hour at last arrives, and a horn sounding from the. 
 judges' stand, the horses are led out in their blankets and 
 head coverings, and walked up and down before the crowd 
 by their trainers, who are for the most part old gray-headed 
 negroes, born and raised, to the best of th^ir recollection, 
 on the turf. The riders are noble scions of the same an 
 cient stock, and average three feet and a half in height, and 
 twenty pounds in weight. They are clad in ornamental gar 
 ments ; wear little close-fitting caps, and while they are 
 waiting, sit huddled up in the grass, sucking their thumbs, 
 and talking confidentially about " them there hosses." 
 
 Let us look at the objects of their attention ; they are 
 well worth it. 
 
 Mr. Howard enters the bay horse Sir Archy, out of 
 Flying Dick, by Roderick. 
 
 Mr. James enters Fair Anna, a white mare, dam Vir 
 ginia, sire Belgrave. 
 
 Captain Waters enters the Arabian horse Selim, de 
 scended in a direct line, he is informed, from Al-borak, who 
 carried the prophet Mahomet up to heaven though this pedi 
 gree is not vouched for. The said pedigree is open to the 
 inspection of all comers. NOTE That it is written in 
 Arabic. 
 
 There are other entries, but not much attention is paid 
 to them. The race will be between Sir Archy and Fair 
 Anna, and perhaps the outlandish horse will not be " dis 
 tanced." 
 
 The horses are stripped, and the excited spectators 
 gather round them and commence betting. Two to one is 
 offered on Sir Archy ; he takes every eye ; he is a noble 
 animal. His training has been excessive, and the sinews 
 web his limbs like cords of steel woven into network ; he 
 strides like a giant, his eyes blaze, he bites at his groom. 
 
 Fair Anna is a beautiful little creature, as slender and 
 graceful as a deer, with a coat of milky whiteness ; and she 
 steps daintily, like -a kitten. She is known, however, and 
 those who have seen her run, know that she has extraordi 
 nary speed and bottom.
 
 WENT TO THE JAMESTOWN RACES. 35 
 
 The Arabian horse is unknown, and offers few indica 
 tions of either speed or strength. The ladies say he is 
 lovely, however, and the old jockeys scan the animal atten 
 tively, and discover some unusual points. 
 
 But the ladies, for the most part, admire the white mare 
 above all ; and the young damsels and gentlemen of youth 
 ful years request their parents to furnish them with some 
 guineas to bet upon the lovely animal. The old planters 
 having for the most part staked large sums on Sir Archy 
 decline this request ^ith petulance. Among these juveniles, 
 seized with the gambling mania, are Master Willie Emngham 
 and Mr. Tommy Alston, who espouse different sides. Tommy 
 admires fair Anna, Will, Sir Archy. Having no money be 
 yond a crown or so, they content themselves with staking 
 that, and Kate is called upon to hold the stakes, which she 
 does with great good nature. 
 
 " Ah ! you are betting, I think, petite ma'mselle 1 " says 
 a sonorous and good-humoured voice. 
 
 Kate raises her eyes, and recognizes Captain Ralph, who 
 rides his roan. She smiles, for the kindly honest voice of 
 the soldier pleases her, and says : 
 
 " Oh no, sir 1 I was just holding stakes for Willie and 
 Mr. Alston." 
 
 " Mr. Alston ? Oh 'pardonnez : I understand." 
 
 And the Captain laughs, and asks how the betting goes. 
 
 " Two to one on Sir Archy," says Kate quite easily. 
 
 " And on Seliin?" 
 
 " I'm sure he's the prettiest, and I know he'll win, sir," 
 says Kate, " but the bet is on Sir Archy and Fair Anna." 
 
 The Captain laughs, and rides on : he draws up by Mr. 
 Lee's chariot. 
 
 " Ah good-day, my dear mesdames," he says, " how is 
 the betting, pray ? 
 
 " I have bet largely against Selim, sir," saya Henrietta, 
 " I know he'll be beaten." 
 
 " Beaten, say you, my dear madam ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "By what rods?" 
 
 " No, sir, by Sir Archy." 
 
 "Ah, you think so?" says the Captain, pleasantly 
 " Well, I do not agree with you, morbleu 1 "
 
 36 HOW THE C.LONY OP VIRGINIA 
 
 " He's found his match," says Henrietta, with a mifr 
 ehievous sparkle of her brilliant eye. 
 
 "So have I," replies the Captain, with a look which 
 makes Miss Henrietta blush. 
 
 She endeavors to rally. 
 
 " What will you bet, sir?" 
 
 " I ? I will bet you a thousand pounds to a penny, that 
 Selim wins the race. See how infatuated I am 1 What say 
 you, morbleu 1 madam ? " 
 
 Henrietta smiles satirically. 
 
 " Suppose we wager something more valuable, sir " she 
 says, " something rare ! " 
 
 " What shall it be ? " 
 
 " This ringlet against one of your morbleus ! " 
 
 The Captain relishes this pleasantry and laughs. 
 
 " Ah, madam 1 " he says, " the stakes are not even : sup 
 pose I stake the contents of this box, against the said ringlet " 
 
 And the soldier draws a morocco case from his bosom 
 
 " What is it ? " says Henrietta. 
 
 " I deny your right to ask," laughs the soldier. 
 
 " Unjust ! " says Henrietta. 
 
 "Why, 'faith?" 
 
 " Because, sir, you know what my stake is while I do 
 not know yours." 
 
 " How do I know what it is you offer to bet, madam ? " 
 
 "Why it is this ringlet, sir." 
 
 And Henrietta twines around her beautiful jewelled hand 
 a glossy curl which reposes on her cheek. 
 
 Captain Ralph laughs, and replies : 
 
 " Ma foi ! I know it is : but I maintain that I am not 
 enlightened yet : the said ringlet may be a wig, my dear 
 madam." 
 
 Henrietta pouts : Clare smiles. 
 
 " I assure you, sir, that I never wear wigs," says the 
 lady. 
 
 " Well, madam, then I will, for the sake of argument- 
 no, for the sake of betting, admit the reality of that exqui 
 site curl; and yet I must be permitted to make a request." 
 
 "What is that, sir?" 
 
 " That you will let Miss Clare hold my stake, and prom 
 ise not to open it, or seek to find what it is."
 
 WENT TO THE JAMESTOWN RACES 137 
 
 Hem ietta takes the morocco case, and looks at it curious- 
 iy, hesitating. 
 
 " Well," says the Captain, laughing, " I see our wager ia 
 at an end, pardy 1 You refuse my conditions." 
 
 " No, sir, I accept." 
 
 And Henrietta hands the case to Clare. 
 
 " I suppose I may retain the curl until it is won if that 
 over happens, monsieur?" she says, satirically. 
 
 " Oui ! oui!" responds the soldier, laughing, "assured 
 ly, and now what is our bet, pray ? I see the judges about 
 to give the signal to prepare the horses." 
 
 " I bet," said Henrietta, " that Sir Archy or Fair Anna 
 will beat Selim." 
 
 "The first heat?" 
 
 " As you choose, sir." 
 
 " Well," says Captain Ralph, " I close. Remember 
 Ma'mselle Clare," he adds to her companion, " that Madam 
 Henriette and myself have laid a wager of that morocco case 
 and its contents, against a curl of her hair, that Sir Archy 
 beats my Arabian the first heat. Do not forget I " 
 
 " The first heat, sir?" asks Clare, in her mild voice. 
 
 " Yes," replies the Captain, " there will be three I am 
 informed three of two miles each. The horse which wins 
 two out of these three heats, of course beats the field." 
 
 Clare nods. 
 
 " Prepare the horses 1 " comes from the judges' stand op 
 posite. 
 
 Captain Ralph leaves the ladies with a gallant bow, and 
 pushes his way through the swaying and excited crowd, to 
 ward the spot where the animals are being saddled. 
 
 A tremendous hurly-burly reigns there ; men of all 
 classes, boys, negroes, gentlemen, indented servants all are 
 betting with intense excitement. The dignified grooms en 
 deavor to keep back the crowd : the owners of the horses 
 give their orders to the microscopic monkeys who are to ride. 
 Mr. Howard, a fine-looking, somewhat supercilious gentle 
 man, says to his rider : 
 
 " Jake, trail on a tight rein the first mile, press gradual 
 ly on the second, and win the heat by half a length : if you 
 are an inch before that, I'll murder you rou villain."
 
 139 HOW TftE COLONY OP VIRGINIA 
 
 " Yes, massa," replies Jake, with a satisfied smile, and 
 great cheerfulness. " I gwine to do dat very ting, / is." 
 
 Mr. James is a solemn-looking Napoleon of the turf, and 
 impresses upon his rider a whole volume of instructions, 
 with gravity, and a serious and affecting earnestness. 
 
 " Feel Sir Archy from the word proceed," he says, " and 
 if it appears from a calm review of all the circumstances, 
 that the mare has got the heels of him, come in half a head 
 before him. If the mare fails to get her speed in the first 
 brush, refrain from pushing her : it is a matter of no im 
 portance to win this the first heat but be sure to come to 
 me before the second." 
 
 " Yes, my massa." 
 
 Captain Ralph says to his rider : 
 
 " (rive me your whip : good ! now take off those spurs. 
 Very well : now remember to keep silent do not speak to 
 your horse, do not tug at his rein : simply keep him in the 
 track, and aim to keep the inside. Do not trouble yourself 
 to win the heat the rest I think is safe. Remember to lean 
 far forward, and if there is danger of being distanced, I per 
 mit you to whistle in the horse's ears. Again, do not push 
 to win this heat. Go 1 " 
 
 The riders are raised by one leg into the saddles : they 
 gather up the reins : the drum taps : they are off like light 
 ning. 
 
 The course is a mile in circumference, and they go round 
 it before the excited crowd can look at them a dozen times. 
 They whirl past the stand, and push on again. 
 
 Sir Archy leads : Fair Anna trails on a hard rein : the 
 Arabian is two lengths behind : but he is not running. 
 
 They thunder up the quarter stretch : Sir Archy is 
 bounding, like some diabolical monster, far before his com 
 panions, spite of his owner's cries : the Arabian has come up 
 and locks the mare : they run neck and neck. Sir Archy 
 whirls past the stand, and wins the heat by a hundred yards. 
 The immense crowd utters a shout which shakes the sur 
 rounding forest. 
 
 The owner of Sir Archy looks with ominous meaning at 
 Jake : that youth begins to tremble, and says that he 
 couldn*t hold him. Mr. Howard turns to the horse. Sir 
 Archy's eyes glare he does not sweat at all : his coat is
 
 WENT TO THE JAMESTOWN RACES. 1 30 
 
 severed with a dry dusty oil, and he pants dreadfully : he is 
 over-trained. 
 
 Fair Anna is as wet as if she had just swam a river : the 
 moisture streams from her : she looks like an ivory statue 
 in a fountain. The grooms rake the sweat off in foamy 
 floods : she breathes regularly. 
 
 The Arabian's coat is merely glossier : an imperceptible 
 moisture bathes it, and he is quite still : he does not pant : 
 his breathing is calm. 
 
 The horses are again enveloped in their hoods and 
 blankets. Captain Ralph returns to the Riverhead carriage. 
 
 "Parbleu! you've won, my dear madam 1" he says, 
 " behold, here I am very unhappy ! " 
 
 Henrietta does not quarrel this time with his French, 
 but laughs triumphantly. 
 
 " A favor 1 " continues the unfortunate Captain, with a 
 melancholy air. 
 
 " Oh, certainly ! " cries Henrietta. 
 
 " I ask that you will not open the morocco case which 
 miserable ! I have lost, until you return home. Is it very 
 hard?" 
 
 " Oh no, sir ; and I promise without hesitation. Give 
 it to me, Clare." 
 
 And she takes the case, puts it in her muff, and smiles. 
 
 " Any more betting, sir ? " she says, satirically. 
 
 "Who, I?' 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Assuredly ! " says the Captain ; " do not think, chert 
 ma'm'selle, that I am very much cast down. I am so far 
 from that, I assure you, that I am ready to take the field 
 again." 
 
 " Well, sir." 
 
 " Then you will bet again, madam ?" 
 
 "Yes, indeed." 
 
 '< Bien ! I now stake all that is left me in the world 
 though not quite. I stake my horse, S-elim, against the curl 
 and the pair of gloves you wear, with the knot of ribbons at 
 your girdle thrown in all upon the final issue." 
 
 Henrietta blushes; for, howover common such gallant 
 proposals were at that day, she cannot misunderstand the 
 meaning of the soldier's glance, and reddens beneath it.
 
 14D HOW THE COLONY OF VIRGINIA 
 
 would be unfair, sir," she says. 
 
 " Not so, my dear madam ; for are you not Bure i* 
 lose ? " 
 
 "To lose?" 
 
 " Yes, indeed." 
 
 " No, sir ; I am sure to win." 
 
 " Bah ! you ladies have such a delicious little confidence 
 in the things you patronize, that it is really astonishing. 
 You think Sir Archy will beat Selim ? Pshaw ! you know 
 nothing about it." 
 
 This piques madam Henrietta, and she smiles satirically 
 again as she says : 
 
 " Well, sir, I do not want your pretty horse but if you 
 insist, why, I cannot retreat. I shall, at least, have the 
 pleasure of returning him to his master." 
 
 The Captain shakes his head. 
 
 " A bet upon such terms, is no bet at all, my dearest 
 madam," he says, "for, I assure you, if I win, you will return 
 home curl-less, glove-less, and ribbon-less. All is fair in war 
 and love." 
 
 With which words, Captain Ralph darts a martial ogle 
 at his companion. This piques her more than ever. 
 
 " Well, sir," she replies, " if you are determined, have 
 your desire." 
 
 " Good!" cries the captain, " we are just in time. There 
 is the horse. Remember now, Ma'm'selle Glare, that we 
 have lain a wager on the final issue. I bet Selim against a 
 curl, a pair of gloves, and a piece of ribbon, that the 
 Arabian beats the field. Miss Henrietta, that he will not. 
 Voici, I do not ask you to hold my stakes," adds the Cap 
 tain with a laugh as he bows, " for I think that will be as 
 much as his rider will be able to do ! " 
 
 And, with another gallant bo^v, the Captain rides away 
 toward the horses. 
 
 The boys are again instructed much after the same 
 fashion : the signal is given in the midst of breathless sus 
 pense, and the horses dart from their places. 
 
 They dart around, Sir Archy again leading : but this 
 position he does not hold throughout the firslflhile : he grad 
 ually falls behind and when they pass the winning-post he is
 
 WENT TO THE JAMESTOWN RACES. 141 
 
 fifty yards in the rear. His owner tears his hair, but tho 
 crowd do not see him they flush and shout. 
 
 The second mile is between Fair Anna and the Arabian, 
 and they lock in the middle of it : but the Arabian gradually 
 takes the lead, and when they flash up to the stand he is ten 
 yards ahead. Sir Archy is distanced and withdrawn. 
 
 It would be impossible to describe the excitement of the 
 crowd : the tremendous effect produced upon them by this 
 reversal of all their hopes and expectations. They roll 
 about like waves, they shout, they curse, they rumble and 
 groan like a stormy sea. 
 
 The horses are the objects of every one's attention. 
 Their condition will go far to indicate the final result and 
 Sir Archy being led away and withdrawn, the race now will 
 be between Fair Anna and the Arabian. 
 
 Mr. James looks more solemn than ever, and all eyes are 
 turned upon him. Captain Waters is not visible he is 
 yonder, conversing with the ladies. 
 
 But the horses ! Fair Anna pants and breathes heavily . 
 her coat is drenched more completely than before with per 
 spiration ; her mouth foams : she tosses her head : when the 
 rake is applied to her back a shower falls. 
 
 The Arabian is wet all over too : but he breathes regu 
 larly : his eye is bright and his head calm. He has com 
 menced running. The first intention of Mr. James is to give 
 up the race, but his pride will not let him. He utters an 
 oath, and gives renewed instructions to his rider. These 
 instructions are to whip and spur to take the lead and keep 
 it, from the start. 
 
 The moment for the final struggle arrives, and Captain 
 Ralph merely says, " Rein free ! " 
 
 The boys mount the crowd opens ; the drum taps and 
 the animals are off like lightning. 
 
 Fair Anna feels that all her previous reputation is at 
 stake, and flies like a deer. She passes around the first mile 
 like a flash of white light : but the Arabian is beside her. 
 For a quarter of a mile thereafter they run neck and neck 
 the rider of Fair Anna lashes and spurs desperately. 
 
 They come up to the quarter-stretch in the last mile 
 at supernatural speed : the spectators rise on their toes and 
 shout : two shadows pass them like the shadows of darting
 
 142 HOW THE COLONY OF VIRGINIA, ETC. 
 
 hawks : the mare barely saves her distance and the Arabian 
 has triumphed. 
 
 If we could not describe the excitement after the second 
 heat, what possibility is there that we could convey an idea 
 of the raging and surging pandemonium which the crowd now 
 eame to resemble ? Furious cries shouts curses ap 
 plause laughter and the rattle of coin leaving unwilling 
 hands are some of the sounds. But here we must give up : 
 as no mere pen can describe the raging of a great mass of 
 water lashed by an angry wind into foam and whistling spray 
 and muttering waves, which rise and fall and crash incessant 
 ly, so we cannot trace the outline of the wildly-excited 
 crowd. 
 
 The Captain wipes Selim's neck with his white handker 
 chief, and the panting animal raises his head and whinnies. 
 
 " See, gentlemen I " says the soldier laughing, while Mr. 
 Howard scowls proudly at him, " Morbleu ! my horse is 
 merely a little warm just come to his speed 1 Why did I 
 not stake my whole fortune on him ! " 
 
 And uttering this preposterous jest, the soldier caresses 
 Selim, who manifests much pleasure thereat ; and sending 
 him back to the stable, mounts his horse and goes and claims 
 his wager from the mortified Henrietta. She takes off the 
 gloves and hands them to him, with the ribbon knot, which 
 she detached from her girdle with a jerk betraying no slight 
 ill-humor. 
 
 " There, sir ! at least I am honest, and pay my just 
 debts 1 " she says : " but please leave my curL" 
 
 The Captain folds up the gloves, wraps them in the 
 ribbon, and places the whole in the pocket of his surtout. 
 
 " Leave the curl ? " he says, laughing, "Oh, of course 1 
 But I assure you, my dear Ma'm'selle Henrietta, that my 
 liberality is only for the moment. I shall claim it some day 
 or other. All is fair in war and love 1 " 
 
 With which words the Captain laughs louder than he was 
 ever known to laugh before.
 
 SHADOWS OF THE PAST: SOMEWHAT GROTESQUE. 143 
 
 CHAPTER XXH. 
 
 SHADOWS OF THE PAST: SOMEWHAT GROTESQUE 
 
 THE reader must have perceived from the foregoing sketch, 
 that " the races" in Virginia in the year 1 765, did not ma 
 terially differ from those at the present day : but we hav 
 not quite finished our brief and hasty sketch, and he must sus 
 pend his opinion. 
 
 Still we cannot enter into any thing like a full description 
 of the ceremonies which took up the remainder of the day : 
 just as we have been unable to draw a full length portrait of 
 the fox-hunt the festival at the hall and further back, the 
 grand opening day of the house of Burgesses. As we have 
 said in former pages, this narrative is rather an account of 
 the fortunes of a certain set of personages, and the events 
 which directly affected them : so the reader must be content 
 irith a very brief and imperfect sketch of the amusements 
 which followed the triumph of Solim. 
 
 The race was gotten up by a number of subscribers, and 
 though a purse was not suspended from a pole for the 
 victorious jockey to take down, every other ceremony was 
 observed. 
 
 These ceremonies were characteristic of the times, and 
 an outline of them may amuse the reader. 
 
 First, a number of stalwart countrymen entered the ring 
 the races between the remaining horses having been run 
 be it understood and these hardy gentlemen are armed 
 with stout cudgels, which they brandish around their heads 
 in furious style, much after the manner of those gentlemen 
 who followed, and flourished the quarter-staff in honor of that 
 noble outlaw, Robin Hood. 
 
 The victor in the awful game is to have a hat worth 
 twenty shillings, and this hat, of the cocked species, with a 
 handsome feather, is suspended from a pliant pole above their 
 heads. 
 
 The signal is given, and the brave combatants close and 
 rain down a shower of blows, which rattle like hail, and cause 
 the crowd of spectators to utter shouts of delight. The
 
 144 SHADOWS OF THE PAST: SOMEWHA1 OROTEbQDE. 
 
 victor is no other than our old friend Townes, who says aa 
 he perches the fine hat on his bushy locks : 
 
 " Well, I dusted 'em ! Their jackets won't want a 
 brushin' soon agin ! " 
 
 And he marches off amid great applause. 
 
 Next comes a wrestling match, and the prize of the vic 
 tor here is a pair of velvet buckles, which are exhibited to 
 all. The contestants enter the ring and tug and whirl, and 
 roll and fall. Is the gentleman who is declared victor, aud 
 who bears away the buckles in triumph, called by the eupho 
 nious name of Junks, or not ? We cannot know certainly 
 as his name is not announced : at least, he is an undeniable 
 water-dog, and will drink up his silver ornaments, we may 
 be sure. 
 
 Then comes a running match, the prize for which is a 
 pair of handsome shoes, with rosettes of ribbon ; and run 
 ning being an amusement which may be indulged in without 
 fear of a cudgel blow or a fall, many enter the lists among 
 the rest, Mr. Bill Lane, the artist. He has practised the 
 amusement when parson Tythetobacco was on his track, 
 rod in hand, and to such perfection that he now distances all 
 competitors, and bears off the shoes in, triumph. 
 
 Another running match immediately. It is between 
 " twelve youths, twelve years old, to run one hundred and 
 twelve yards, for a hat worth twelve shillings." The requi 
 site number of young gentlemen enter the lists and start off. 
 Sam Barkerville is declared victor, his powers of running 
 having been cultivated by humorous fleeing from his father, 
 the sheriff, who, by poetic license, has been the imaginary 
 holder of the legal writ of ca. sa. against Barkerville, jr. ; 
 and the hat worth twelve shillings is handed to the young 
 gentleman, who cocks it over one eye, and marches off amid 
 applause. 
 
 Next the herald holds up a handsomely bound volume, 
 fluttering with ribbons and glowing with gilt, and proclaims 
 that the best singer among the divine sex will take the prize 
 the said volume being a quire of ballads of the most ap 
 proved description, with the accompanying musical notes. 
 
 A dozen blushing maidens advance and alternately sing 
 such ballads as they fancy, in little fluttering voices, and 
 with downcast eyes. The last who performs upon the occa-
 
 SHADOWS OF THE PAST: SOMEWHAT GROTESQUE. 145 
 
 sioii sings " The lass of Richmond hill," and her song is 
 received with tumultuous applause. She is unanimously 
 declared victor, and the beautiful volume is duly presented 
 to Miss Donsy Smith, who receives it blushing, and retires 
 into the throng, who greet her with two distinct rounds of 
 applause, her bright, cheerful face having gained this young 
 lady a host of friends. 
 
 Then comes the great and paramount, contest of fiddlers, 
 many more in number than those who shared with " his 
 glass and his lass " the liking of " old King Cole, that jolly 
 old soul." In other words, the fiddlers are more in number, 
 and they use instruments which range from those of back 
 woods construction emitting awful and terrible discord, like 
 veritable bulls of Bashan roaring, and pigs from the coast 
 of Guinea squeaking to excellent ones, worn and discolored 
 by incessant use, and full of melodious power. The prize 
 for the best performer is a fine new instrument, direct from 
 London, and, in addition to this, the victor is to have the 
 privilege of presenting a pair of silk stockings to the " pret 
 tiest country maiden on the ground." 
 
 The fiddlers stand " all in a row," and tune their instru 
 ments. Then, at a given signal, they play, one after the 
 other, such pieces as they fancy, and exert their best powers 
 to win the fine instrument. They roar, they crash, they 
 storm, they pour a whirlwind of rapid, glittering notes upon 
 the air, deafening the ears and setting the crowd to dancing 
 almost ; or else they link the sweetness and draw it out long 
 and slow, like golden ribbon, or a stream of moonlight 
 sighing, crying, sobbing, laughing ; all this the violins do, 
 with extraordinary movement in the heads and arms of the 
 aoble musicians. The air is filled with harmony, the crowd 
 applauds, the happy artists hold out their hands. Nineteen 
 hands are withdrawn abruptly ; the twentieth receives the 
 prize, over which are hung the silk stockings. 
 
 Lanky is the victor. Lanky no longer in boots and 
 sword and cocked hat, it is true ; but, at least, far more like 
 an elegant cavalier than usual. For a moment, Lanky 
 blushes, scratches his head ; then he twitches the string of 
 the violin, and starts with joy at its excellence. This gives 
 nim courage : he places the silk stockings on the end of his 
 fiddle bow ; they hang there with a truth of outline which
 
 146 SHADOWS OF THE PAtT: SOMEWHAT GROTESQUE. 
 
 raises a shout in the crowd. Lanky steps forward, makes a 
 dive at a portion of the crowd, throwing his head at them 
 so to speak ; and lo ! the silk stockings are seen to leave 
 the end of the how, and elegantly repose in a straddling pos 
 ture around the neck of Miss Donsy Smith. 
 
 The crowd shout ; the violins commence again ; Jamaica 
 rum, '' to wet their windpipes," says the chronicle, is 
 handed round, and immediately the twenty fiddlers all in a 
 row begin to play furiously with the ardor of despair, such 
 a different tune ! Pandemonium is broke loose a shudder 
 runs through the crowd they fly with their hands in their 
 ears, with shouts of laughter. 
 
 So far, we have followed the veracious chronicle, inven 
 tion having almost nothing to do with the scene we have 
 sketched ; but there is one gentleman whose performances 
 on the occasion of the races we nowhere find any allusions 
 made to. We consider this unjust, and proceed briefly to 
 speak of him. 
 
 He is a colored gentleman ; perhaps as much as three 
 feet and a half high. He wears a long coat, whose skirts 
 drag the ground ; he sucks his thumb occasionally ; he re 
 joices in and is proud of the name of Crow, but prefers the 
 more modest and friendly appellation, " Jeames." He has 
 suffered unmerited misfortunes lately, but, like a great man, 
 is not cast down, and has come to the races with the noble 
 intent to struggle against the effect of those misfortunes. 
 He has not betted largely, but no one has taken more inter 
 est in the horses. He has criticised them ; admired them ; 
 openly and candidly extolled them, acknowledged their 
 good points with simple frankness. He has lost his all 
 three half-pence upon Sir Archy, but is not cast down 
 thereat. He rises above his bad fortune, and preserves a 
 noble equanimity. 
 
 He provides himself with a dilapidated cornstalk, and 
 looks on while the cudgellers play. He flourishes the corn 
 stalk around his head gracefully, and when it hits one of the 
 dignified grooms, Mr. Crow does not disdain to take to flight 
 averse as he is, from principle, to contention. When the 
 wrestlers commence, he takes his cornstalk in his arms and 
 struggles violently with it, and finally trips it up, and falls 
 triumphantly on it. When the running begins he drops hi|
 
 SHADOWS OF THE PAST I SOMEWHAT GROTESQUE. 14 
 
 cornstalk foe, and, tying his long skirts before him, takes to 
 running also, uttering enthusiastic " hooras ! " He wins, in 
 his own opinion, and takes off his ragged straw hat, without 
 a rim, worn only on extraordinary occasions, and politely pre 
 sents it to himself, and places it proudly on his head again 
 having fairly won it. When the maidens sing, he assumes a 
 modest and bashful air : but with the advent of the fiddlers, 
 his real representative powers begin to show themselves. He 
 resumes his cornstalk : he breaks it in two , he grasps the 
 shorter piece, and with his left hand inserts it under his chin. 
 He then screws up the broken end to tune it, flourishes in 
 his right hand the lengthier portion, and strikes the trem 
 bling lyre. As the fiddlers proceed, he proceeds also fast or 
 slow, enthusiastically with jerking head, shaking body, pat 
 ting foot : or sentimentally, with his chin up, his eyes fixed 
 upon the blue sky, with a die-away expression, his bow drawn 
 slowly and rapturously over its counterpart. He finishes 
 with the grand outburst of the twenty performers, and goes 
 into ecstasies : his rapture passes all bounds : he sways, he 
 shakes, he bows, he bends, he executes leaps, he turns somer 
 sets still playing. But comes the cruel fate he is not ap 
 preciated : he suffers from the effect of an uncultivated musi 
 cal taste in the million. Mr. Crow in his ecstasy rolls upon 
 a projecting boot the boot rises up Mr. Crow is hoisted 
 he disappears like a black snowball swallowed up in nothing 
 ness. He is gone vanished all the fiddles stop. 
 
 The day is wound up with a profuse banquet, at which 
 the subscribers, their wives and daughters, refresh themselves 
 with excellent roast beef and turkey, and a variety of wines. 
 Perhaps a picture of the graceful and imposing scene would 
 bo worth drawing, but space fails us : the eloquent discord 
 of the twenty violins still drives our senses mad. We leave 
 the dinner, therefore, to the reader's imagination : we leave 
 him to fancy the merry talk, the allusions to the races, the 
 congratulations offered Captain Waters, the praises of the 
 fresh little country beauty Donsy Smith, the toasting of Cap 
 tain John Smith, of old days, who landed yonder on the 
 river when he came here that immortal soldier to whom a 
 monument should be erected, all declare in whose honor a 
 " Jamestown Society " should be instituted, to meet yearly in 
 the month of May, and eat good dinners, fish and flesh and
 
 148 IL SEGRETO PER ESSER FELICE. 
 
 fowl, in grand appreciation of his noble deeds. We leave all 
 this to the reader's imagination, and can only say that the 
 banquet, sub Jove, was a very merry and happy affair, and 
 that the birds were of the same opinion that evening, when 
 the brilliant party, having fled away, they picked up crumbs, 
 and twittered gayly. 
 
 And so the brilliant party fled away, as all bright things 
 fly far from us into the west, and dead days of the past. 
 Where are they now, those stalwart cavaliers and lovely 
 dames who filled that former time with so much light, and 
 merriment, and joyous laughter ? Where are those good 
 coursers, Selim, Fair Anna and Sir Archy ; where are black and 
 white, old and young, all the sporting men and women of the 
 swaying crowd ? What do we care for them to-day ? What 
 do we care if the laces are moth-eaten the cocked hats 
 hung up in the halls of Lethe the silk stockings laid away 
 in the drawer of oblivion ? What does it concern us that 
 the lips no longer smile, the eyes no longer flash, the hands 
 no longer move, the faces no longer laugh? What do we 
 care for all those happy maiden faces gallant inclinations 
 graceful courtesies every thing connected with the cavaliers 
 and dames of that old, brilliant, pompous, honest, worthy 
 race? 
 
 They have gone away to the other world ; their lips are 
 dumb ; their heads have bowed and their backs long bent, 
 and they have carried away their loads and themselves to the 
 happy or the miserable isles. We care so little for them, 
 that the poor chronicler who tries to make them speak again 
 to-day is scarcely heard : but still it is his province, he must 
 speak in spite of all. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 IL 8EGBETO PEE E8SER FELICE. 
 
 MR. EFFINGHAM had not gone to the races for the same 
 reason which had prevented Mr. Ralph Waters from attend 
 ing the party at the Hall. The Captain felt an unconquerable 
 repugnance to break bread under the roof of one who bad
 
 IL 8EGRETO PER ESSER FELICE. M9 
 
 itood in such a relation to bis brother and his cousin former 
 ly ; practising, unconsciously, the Arabic custom which he 
 had met with in his travels in the East. In like manner, 
 Mr. Effingham could not go and smile, and caracole, and 
 laugh at the joyous festival ; it was too diametrically opposed 
 to his feelings. 
 
 We shall perceive more clearly what those feelings were 
 by entering the Hall on the evening succeeding the races, as 
 cending the broad pine stairs, and going into Mr. Effingham's 
 room. 
 
 The sun wad just setting, and a stream of bright rosy light 
 streamed through the tall windows on the opposite wall, ana 
 on the occupant of the room, who was seated in a tall carved 
 chair, such as our ancestors much affected, with that singu 
 lar taste for the stately, the grotesque, every thing but the 
 comfortable, which they possessed at least in regard to fur 
 niture. Mr. Effingham looked even paler than usual, and 
 his eyelids drooped, the dusky lashes reposing on his wan 
 cheek. His hair, free from powder, and hanging down upon 
 his shoulders, was brilliantly illuminated by the rosy ray, and 
 the single diamond upon his white hand glittered. That 
 hand hung listlessly, the arm reposing upon the red damask 
 cushion, and the other hand supported his cheek. 
 
 As he mused, gazing at the bright flood of sunlight, a 
 faint smile, like the reflection of the moon in water, dwelt 
 upon his pale lips and in his weary eyes. Then a sigh es 
 caped from the lips, and the breast heaved. 
 
 " Surely I have suffered much in my life," he said, in a 
 low voice, with another weary sigh " The fates seem to 
 pursue me ; they will not permit me to pass any day, unless 
 it is more or less cloudf d. What a career mine has been 
 how forlorn, how full of sad and unhappy events leaving so 
 many painful recollections. My boyhood was pure and 
 happy, and I laughed at care as the child heart laughs at 
 every thing ; incredulous, obstinately hopeful, I saw before 
 me a long life of merriment, and I was never weary of the 
 joy which flowed into my heart from the bright world. All 
 things were couleur de rose. I had an open hand ; a gener 
 ous, loving nature I could have taken in my arms the 
 whole world from pure love and joy. I wandered through 
 these forests singing; I ran gayly over the breezy hills j
 
 150 IL SEGRETO PER ESSER FELICE. 
 
 I rode and hunted and lived an existence full of fresh 
 and vigorous emotions : life to me was one long carnival. 
 And what a carnival! What lovely masks what pictur 
 esque and beautiful dresses how many thousands of flam 
 beaux seemed to flood the air with their bright flashing 
 light 1 I heard wondrous music in every thing, the trees, 
 the streams, the very sky was vocal with those voicea 
 which are ever calling, in their clear, soft tones on youth, 
 and telling it to enjoy ! enjoy ! enjoy 1 I loved a pure heart 
 then I thought she loved me." 
 
 Another sigh more profound escaped from the pale lips ; 
 the faint sad smile again lit up the face with its twilight. 
 
 " Oh yes ! she loved me then," he continued in a mur 
 mur ; " that is my pride and happiness, my quiet joy now in 
 these weary days, when life seems wholly exhausted for me 
 happiness gone past never to come back. What golden 
 hours we passed ! Ah ! men may talk of the love of chil 
 dren slightingly, and stroke their beards and say they cannot 
 feel the sentiment in its full force. It is a fallacy. There 
 is nothing in after life so wholly pure and strong and grand 
 as the first love of a boy as his devotion, tenderness, and 
 sincerity. In this after-life, our passions come to be matters 
 of calculation ; we look to settlements we estimate eligi 
 bility of rank, or wealth, or age. Youth, with its grand 
 blindness, looks to none of them. It sees but one object in 
 the world wants not the money or the station, asks but the 
 heart ! " 
 
 He paused : and then went on sadly. 
 
 " Yes, those were golden hours very happy hours. 
 How beautiful she was ! I think there never was such pure 
 and tender beauty in a human face ! I remember, as though 
 it were yesterday, the child's face beaming on me, while the 
 birds were chirping in the trees and the brook laughing. I 
 thought the birds were envious of her singing when she ca 
 rolled clearly in the bright fresh morning. She wore a 
 wreath of roses in her hair, and carried on her arm a basket 
 full of flowers ; how clearly I see all again well ! well 1 " 
 
 And the head drooped pensively again in the waning 
 sunset. 
 
 " Then, in the after days, when I came back from Eu 
 rope," he continued, sadly, " I loved her just as before
 
 tt SEGRETO PER ESSER FELICB. l5l 
 
 but did not find her fill so completely my whole heavens. 
 Still, it is true she rose for me like a pure, lovely star ; but 
 the hours had drawn on slowly, and other stars had risen 
 which distracted my attention. Especially that fiery planet 
 which whirled through its brief orbit and so narrowly es- - 
 caped being quenched in blood 1 " 
 
 He looked gloomy for a moment : but very soon the old 
 sad, weary suiile came back as his eyes were raised to a book 
 case in the corner. On this bookcase stood two statues : 
 and by these statues lay some withered flowers. He rose, 
 took down the withered nosegay, and sat down again in the 
 same listless way. He looked at them sadly, and placed 
 them against his cheek with a forlorn smile. 
 
 " She gave them to me one afternoon when we were 
 walking hand in hand in the old garden," he murmured, 
 wistfully, " and I told her they were not half so fresh and 
 bright and purely beautiful as her face. I see her soft, ten 
 der blush I feel her hand tremble : at that moment life 
 long happiness was in my grasp the brilliant pearl, a pure 
 loving heart well : I threw it away 1 It is gone : anothei 
 has enshrined it in his heart. 
 
 " \\ ell, this is but one more hope gone one more me 
 mory to make my days and nights weary, to multiply these 
 weary sighs. I cannot, do not complain yet I loved her 1 
 loved her dearly : well, well, it is passed. She will be very 
 happy : he is a worthy gentleman, a kind heart. She will 
 not tbink of me often ; I am not what I was. Poor sword 1 " 
 he continued, sadly, looking at his weapon lying on the ta 
 ble, " you and your master have lost edge : you rust wo- 
 fully. That master is no longer the gay and laughing cava 
 lier whispering to ladies, and met every where with smiles 
 the proud heir of Effingham, living his life with nothing any 
 where but those welcome smiles : like these poor flowers 
 ha has withered ; his freshness is gone." 
 
 A low voice singing came from the next room, and Mr. 
 Effingham recognized Kate's accents. By a singular coin 
 cidence, she was singing, " The flowers of the forest," that 
 sweet and plaintive air, which seems to resemble the sighing 
 of the wind, the murmur of the flowers, the low trembling 
 of an jEoliaii harp in a calm evening when the airs are al 
 dead.
 
 1S2 H. SEGRETO PER ESSER FELtCF 
 
 "Yes, they are" gone," said Mr. Effingham, his head 
 drooping : " yes ! yes ! love, youth, every thing rosy, hope 
 ful, brilliant is gone and withered away : and life has drawn 
 near no longer any thing but a stern, hard reality. Yes, the 
 flowers of the forest went away with the autumn they with 
 ered like these I hold. Withered 1 that is a strange word 
 can it apply to a human heart ? " 
 
 The tender voice of the child came from the adjoining 
 room, and the fresh, pure accents pleased and quieted him : 
 he smiled faintly. 
 
 " No, I believe my heart is not wholly withered," he 
 murmured, " like my hopes." 
 
 And reclining in the tall carved chair, his sad eyes wan 
 dered to the sunset, waning slowly over the great forest with 
 a pomp of golden clouds. His face was bathed in the rich 
 rosy light, and his calm eye gazed steadily upon the blood- 
 red orb. It was one of those real pictures which surpass 
 the masterpieces of the greatest painters, and the flood of 
 light poured upon it like a crimson stream. Strikingly 
 handsome, pale, thoughtful, with chiselled lips, and long, wav 
 ing hair, and rich, elegant costume the mere externals 
 would have rejoiced an artist: but no artist could have 
 caught the sad smile upon the lips ; the calm, uncomplain 
 ing sorrow in the eye ; the posture so full of calm, almost 
 languid repose. 
 
 As he gazed on the sunset, the shadow in his eyes disap 
 peared in a degree : his brow cleared up partially ; he 
 sighed, but no longer so wearily with such painful languor. 
 
 " Well, well," he murmured, " there is the sun going 
 down after running his course honestly, and giving light to 
 all ; warming the earth and quickening the germ within its 
 bosom. The seed has started beneath this warmth ; the 
 leaves begun to bud ; the birds have rejoiced in it, and the 
 whole universe grown stronger, brighter, fresher since he 
 rose this morning. And now he sets, quite calmly, having 
 done his duty ah ! that is Kate's word 1 Duty ? that 
 is surely something, and it seems that the sun has not 
 stopped shining ever because clouds interposed and dimmed 
 him ! Why should a man grow faint and murmur then, 
 and fold his arms and be idle, because the world is not a 
 fairy land of roses and perfumes where a sweet do-nothing
 
 1L SEGRETO PER ESSER FELICE. 153 
 
 reigns ? That dolcefar niente cannot be the secret of hap 
 piness : I feel that it is not and I have always laughed at 
 those Arcadian dreams of shepherdesses and shepherds with 
 their crooks, making languid love, and sighing and dreaming 
 the long days away in beautiful woodlands by the murmuring 
 streams of fancy. 
 
 " No, life is not a bower to dally in, to be happy, care 
 less, in ; where all is sunshine. I feel it in my heart, and 
 trample on that Epcurean philosophy which teaches such a 
 doctrine. All things work nature nowhere rests in these 
 unhappy delights which lap the heart in down and tell us 
 that the cold wind cannot reach us that it should not. 
 That wind even though it be a storm-wind is healthy, 
 fresh, invigorating, like the breeze which stirs the leaves 
 yonder in the sunset. The sun is going slowly, gradually 
 he has done his duty, and will rise to-morrow to com 
 mence again ! Have not men a duty ? " 
 
 He paused with dreamy eyes gazing upon the sunset. 
 
 " I have suffered I have enjoyed I have tasted life 
 drained some delicious draughts, and been driven delirious 
 by them," he continued. " Come, let me see if there is no 
 way open yet for me to imitate the sun, and do some good 
 in the world. Poor brain ! I fear it is dulled now, and the 
 heart no longer warm : but I will put away my flowers at 
 least, and not sigh over the old days." 
 
 He replaced the nosegay on the book-case, and as he did 
 so, he heard Kate come tripping along the broad passage 
 singing. But this time it was a merrier song one of those 
 laughing ditties which have rung through so many houses, 
 filling them with the contagious laughter of the singer. Mr. 
 Effingharn smiled, and was pleased to hear the fresh, merry 
 voice. 
 
 " The little chirper," he said, " merry as usual 1 " 
 
 Kate came running on her tip-toes, and carolling that old 
 ditty, in which the singer asserts that her lover, who is gone 
 to the fair, has promised to buy her " a bunch of blue 
 ribbon ;" and if there had been a multiplicity of bunches 
 of ribbon of all imaginary colors promised to Kate, she 
 could not have carolled her little ditty with more contagious 
 merriment. 
 
 She stopped at the door, and tajped. Mr. Effingham
 
 154 IL SEGRETO PEK. ESSER FELICE. 
 
 leaning his arm on the mantelpiece, said, " Come in, Kate 1 ' 
 and his voice was much less sad. 
 
 Kate entered bright and sparkling, tripping, and running 
 on her tiptoes, with her curls flying, and her eyes dancing. 
 
 " Oh my goodness ! here you are all by yourself," she 
 said " You mustn't be moping, DOW you know, cousin. I 
 won't allow that." 
 
 " Pray, what right have you, madam, to command me ? " 
 was the smiling answer. 
 
 " I ? Why you belong to me, you know. Gracious I " 
 continued Kate laughing, " did any body ever ? " 
 
 And the child put her arm round his waist, and drew him 
 toward the door. 
 
 " Come now, cousin, and take a walk with me," she Stiid 
 
 " I'm rather dull, Katy." 
 
 " You mustn't be." 
 
 " Suppose I cannot help it." 
 
 " But you shall." 
 
 There was no resisting her entreaties, and Mr. Effingham 
 soon prepared himself for the walk. As they went forth in 
 the clear, still evening of the month of flowers, the birds 
 sang overhead, the streams ran merrily, the whole earth 
 seemed lapped in soft repose. The bleat of sheep came from 
 the hills, the cattle bells were tinkling as the long line came 
 slowly back from the pasture, and the wagoners returning 
 from their work, were singing their rude African songs, and 
 iesting with each other gayly. Flocks of gay birds were 
 circling through the sky, and filling the wide air with joyous 
 carollings. The thousand tranquil noises of a country 
 evening, gave a light and music to the time which cities never 
 feel. And then the songs died away through the forest like 
 a merry laugh ; the sheep no longer bleated, but with lazy 
 lips ; the cattle drew near home ; and the low tinkle of their 
 bells was hushed. The birds, too, folded up their wings, 
 and only chirped occasionally as they went to sleep. The 
 night had come. 
 
 The tranquil hour, and all these quiet sounds, calmed the 
 Bad heart, and made it lighter ; and he looked fondly on the 
 little, bright-eyed face at his side. And Kate burst out joy 
 fully singing :
 
 THE SEIGNEUR MORT- REYNARD. 155 
 
 When the flow'r is i' the bud, and the leaf upc i the tree, 
 The lark shall sing me home in my ain countr e." 
 
 Mr. Effingham gazed at the child smiling, and said : 
 
 " I know who is my lark, and I'm glad I am home in mj 
 own country to hear the songs she sings." 
 
 So they returned home through the quiet evening to the 
 old hall, whose chimneys still glowed in the sunset, and sent 
 up a golden flood of curling smoke. The dogs rose up and 
 came to have a romp with Kate. The squire's face was 
 smiling as he looked up from his newspaper; the house 
 smiled not less brightly ; and his face was sad no longer. 
 
 The healthful voice of nature had spoken to his heart, 
 and he was calm. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 HOW THE 8EIGNEUB MORT-EETNAED PREACHED AND PRACTISED. 
 
 THAT merry fox-hunter and incorrigible bachelor, Mr. Jack 
 Hamilton, or as Captain Waters called him, Seigneur Mort- 
 Reynard, was holding a confidential conversation with Miss 
 Alethea in the library when we say confidential, we mean 
 personal inasmuch, as the colloquy in question busied itselt 
 with the moral delinquencies of the identical seigneur, and 
 especially referred to his reynard-hunting propensities. 
 
 When Mr. Effingham entered, he found that his friend 
 was engaged in that forlorn and desperate undertaking 
 arguing with one of the opposite sex. Mr. Jack Hamilton 
 was accustomed to plume himself upon his knowledge of the 
 female character ; to mention with pride and satisfaction the 
 fact that he had always seen through them, as he expressed 
 it, and been enabled by his splendid sagacity to detect and 
 escape their wiles ; in a word, he would often inform his 
 Nimrod associates over their claret, after a jovial hunt, that 
 he knew women perfectly, and that he was so old a fox that 
 the swiftest of them could, not run him down. And yet, 
 with all this boasted knowledge of the sex, with all this pro 
 found insight into their peculiarities of organization, the un 
 fortunate man was absolutely arguing a proposition with a 
 lady. The poor fellow had really not learned the first and
 
 156 HOW THE SEIGNEUR MOI REYNARD 
 
 most commonplace rules of the science which he boasted 
 And how he did boast when he got Tom Lane, and Charle) 
 Cotes, and the rest, snugly seated at a jovial supper at the 
 Trap ! 
 
 " My dear fellow," this keen student of (female) human 
 nature would say, with one arm resting on the table, the 
 right hand holding to his lips a glass of claret, " you are not 
 as old as I am, and will not take my advice, and leave the 
 girls alone. Avoid them, sir! this world would get on 
 gloriously were it not for these women with their sighings, 
 and oglings, and flirting fans, and rustling flounces. All the 
 trouble in the universe more or less is caused by them, 
 and many a tall fellow in the Shakespearian sense, I was 
 reading him yesterday ; a good writer ! many a fine fellow, 
 brave, and holding up his head, has bit the dust before 
 'em ! 
 
 " Just look ! Here is a jolly companion, ready to run a 
 fox to the death, to hunt deer on the coldest night that ever 
 a fryingpan shone in, what I call a boy of metal, ready for 
 fun, and joyous as the day ! ready to clash glasses, to laugh 
 at matrimony, to break through every thing which bothers 
 him, and as brave as Julius Caesar. Well, sir the bottle 
 stays with you ! just look now how the thing works ! He goes 
 to some ball or other, makes the acquaintance of a pair of 
 blue eyes, lips to match to say nothing of the rest. He 
 looks the infatuated fellow will not cut and run as a brave 
 man may, when he knows the enemy can beat him easily 
 he dances with her goes bowing and ambling, and mincing 
 his steps and smiling through a minuet or a quadrille : he 
 squeezes her hand the poor, infatuated boy ! Never squeeze 
 a woman's hand, sir ! by Jove, it is too ridiculous. Well, 
 the unhappy victim of the eyes, does this more and more : 
 he returns her ogles, he thinks her courtesies, as she holds 
 out her silken skirt, the very sublimity of grace, by George ! 
 he feels a something creeping over him, that makes him feel 
 like a thousand pins were sticking in him, and as if the black 
 rascals, who are scraping away on their fiddles, are playing 
 rainbow music, on moonlight violins, with bows made of 
 flowers, by Jove ! The reel finishes him. sir ! he dances it 
 with her her fact flushes up, her eyes sparkle, her satins 
 rustle,. she shoots him down, by Jove ! with her eyes, and
 
 PfeEACHED AND PRACTISED. 157 
 
 takes his heart, which he is holding in his hand, and puts it 
 in her pocket if ladies have pockets, which I doubt. 
 
 " Now, mark me, sir not bad claret, this ! from that 
 minute, he is gone ! He leaves hunting he passes over to 
 the other side, when he meets us jolly fellows on the road ; 
 he frowns when we refuse to acknowledge that all the sense, 
 all the virtue, all the brilliancy of the world, is found in 
 women ; and let any one dare to assert that his particular 
 paragon is not the pearl of all the top froth the moonlight 
 and flowers the head and front of all. Try it! a cock- 
 sparrow is nothing to him. He whips out his hanger, by 
 Jove ! his eyes blaze up, he makes a pass at you, and runs 
 you through the gizzard, causing a large and affectionate 
 circle to mourn your loss. 
 
 " All this, sir, is caused by women from their passion 
 for matrimony. Men, sir, are to them, what the fox is to 
 us they take pleasure in running them down and slaughter 
 ing them. No, I am wrong they are not so easy as that : 
 they are like cats, sir, when a mouse falls into their clutches. 
 They tie the infatuated poor fellow to their apron-string 
 they watch, and smile, and simper, and die away : but try 
 to escape, sir, under the impression that the enemy is lulled 
 to sleep. By Jove ! sir, the claw comes out from the velvet 
 paw, and you are gone ! You are married, sir ! you are 
 led like a sheep to the slaughter, and you may bleat as much 
 as you choose, by George ! You are thenceforth a married 
 man, and your bachelor joys are all gone. Try a fox hunt 
 if you dare madam will make you rue it: speak to your 
 bachelor friends she'll scratch you, sir. From that moment 
 you are a joyless, married man, and your whole life is to be 
 spent in working like a drudge for a set of little dirty-faced 
 darlings, who make you get up fifty times in the night, 
 and won't let you read your newspaper for crawling over 
 you. 
 
 " That's it, sir : you are an unfortunate married man. 
 You dare not ask your friends to dinner, or if you feel that 
 it is a shame not to, you say in a mild and sheepish voice, 
 Really, now, iry dear Tom (or Jack, as the case may be), I 
 am delighted to see you ; your face reminds me of old times 
 (poor fellow, PO it does !) come and I hope you can make 
 it convenient-- /vu are sure you have no engagement J
 
 58 HOW THE SEIGNEUR MORT-REYNARD 
 
 should be happy Do you know my wife ? ' And, bj 
 George ! sir, he hangs his head, and looks like he had been 
 caught stealing a sheep ; for he knows that madam will sit 
 up like a lump of ice, and make personal observations un 
 pleasantly alluding to his past life with us jolly fellows, and 
 when she has him, sir, alone, will make the watches of the 
 night miserable with a lecture behind the curtains, in which 
 she will prove, to his own, and her own. satisfaction, that he 
 is falling back into his old abominable courses, when he 
 used to commit the deadly sin of sitting up a-nights, and 
 rattling the dice, and eating suppers, and chasing reynard 
 with us jolly boys, by George ! He knows she'll lay it all 
 out to him, with that eloquence which she possesses in such 
 a high degree ; and no wonder that the poor fellow blushes, 
 and hesitates, and hems ! when he ventures to suggest that his 
 old friends should visit him the reprobates, as madam calls 
 them. I, for one, would not go and dine with him I should 
 shake my head, and go on my way, in pity, not anger, 
 and I would empty six bottles, and run down fifty foxes to 
 get his face out of my mind. Yes, sir, that is the short and 
 the long of it your fate will be to find yourself henpecked ! 
 Avoid them in time, by Jove ! never put yourself in their 
 power, or you are gone you are, indeed ! Never laugh and 
 talk with them never visit them above all, sir, never 
 argue with them, for you are sure to get the worst of it. Lay 
 this down as a general rule, that a woman will always have 
 the last word ; and, secondly, that no woman ever yet under 
 stood how a demonstration followed a fixed set of premises ; 
 logic is not their weakness, sir, they don't understand it ; 
 but what they do understand, is jumping to their own con 
 clusions, and sticking to 'em like grim death. One of their 
 conclusions is, that all men of right ought to be caught, if 
 eligible. Now, sir, you needn't resistthey will convince 
 you : the only way is to do as I do never go near them, 
 and cultivate a bachelor life." 
 
 And after these diabolical sentiments, Mr. Jack Hamil 
 ton would empty his claret, pour out a second glass, and 
 begin singing, " Oh. a jolly life for me-e-e! A jolly life 
 for me!" 
 
 Let us return from this digression to the Hall, which we 
 have left, to listen to Mr. Hamilton's advice given to hia
 
 PREACHED AND PRACTISED. 159 
 
 bachelor friends at the Trap. But it is not our intention to 
 report the words uttered by Mr. Hamilton and Miss Ata 
 thea. It is enough to say that the Seigneur Mort-Reynard 
 proved his own philosophy to be perfectly correct, and was 
 quietly unhorsed by Miss Alethea in every charge that 
 lady managing the weapons with her habitual air of prim 
 and stately grace. 
 
 " Ah, here's- Champ coming to the rescue ! " cried the 
 delighted seigneur. " I am in a bad way here, friend Ef 
 fingham. Miss Alethea has been proving satisfactorily tha\ 
 I am a most hardened sinner." 
 
 Miss Alethea smiled, with a wintry look, but said noth 
 ing. 
 
 " I am glad to see you, Jack," replied Mr. Effingham 
 suppressing by an effort the painful emotion caused by th 
 sight of his rival ; " how did I miss seeing you when you 
 rode up ? " 
 
 " Oh, I slipped through the lane by the stable j I wanted 
 to get the nearest road to Riverhead." 
 
 " Ah ! " said Mr. Effingham, coldly ; but immediately 
 suppressing this exhibition of feeling, he added, calmly, 
 " present my best respects to the family." 
 
 " Including Clare ? " said Mr. Hamilton, easily. 
 
 " Yes, sir," said Mr. Effingham, austerely : and he picked 
 up a book to conceal his emotion. Then conscious that this 
 tone was a great injustice to his friend, he said, " I am 
 rather unwell to-day I hope you are as hearty as ever, 
 Hamilton." 
 
 " I ?" said the Seigneur Mort-Reynard, laughing; "why 
 I never felt better in my life. We had a glorious " 
 
 Suddenly the seigneur paused : he saw the eye of Miss 
 Alethea fixed on him, and suppressed the remainder of his 
 sentence with a sheepish look. 
 
 " I am going over to carry Miss Clare these gloves," he 
 added. " She commissioned me to procure them in town 
 for her." 
 
 " You know the size of her hand, then ? " asked Mr. 
 Effingham, not to have his painful silence observed. 
 
 " Her hand ? I think so 1 The sweetest little hand. 
 She laid it in my own buckskin one, and by Jove ! a thou 
 sand pardons, Miss Alethea ! and I measured it by laying
 
 .60 HOW THE SEIGNEUR MORT-REYNARD 
 
 my fore and middle fingers upon it. They were just the 
 width of her hand, and her thumb was the size of my little 
 finger." 
 
 11 Ah ! " said Mr. Effingham. 
 
 " Yes, indeed ! Now if the ladies only wore some spe 
 cies of covering on the lips ! " 
 
 Mr. Hamilton paused with a laugh. 
 
 " On the lips, sir ? " asked Miss Alethea, who was not 
 quick at a jest. 
 
 " And I measured with my own, as I measured the 
 hand ! " said the seigneur, laughing. 
 
 Miss Alethea drew herself up : Mr. Efiingham's face 
 flushed. His friend did not perceive it, apparently, and 
 went on. 
 
 " I really think I am becoming a lady's man," he said. 
 " Here I am running about buying gloves, and flirting fans, 
 and making myself useful in a variety of ways. I really 
 should not be surprised if I ended by attaching myself to 
 some fair lady for life ! " 
 
 " A good resolution," said Mr. Eflingham, looking away. 
 " As for myself, I am growing more and more careless in 
 these matters." 
 
 " That reminds me, Champ," said Miss Alethea, " that 
 we are all invited to Mr. Lee's to-morrow." 
 
 " I shall not go." 
 
 " Why ? " 
 
 Mr. Eflingham looked at his sister, but suppressed his 
 irritated feeling. 
 
 " I am not very well," he added, " please say as much." 
 
 " Now, Champ," said Mr. Hamilton, " permit me to ob 
 serve that you do wrong in neglecting the ladies over there. 
 They are really charming and though I confess what I 
 probably should conceal, that for certain reasons I am not 
 an unbiassed judge between Miss Henrietta and Miss Clare, 
 yet I assure you I think the former a most beautiful and 
 lovely girl." 
 
 This speech was so plain that Mr. Effiugham felt a pang 
 shoot through his breast : he said nothing. 
 
 " They were talking about your neighborly behavior," 
 continued his friend, coolly, " and Clare Miss Clare, I 
 mean said that you had scarcely been near them since your
 
 PREACHED AND PRACTISED. 16' 
 
 return from Europe. That is not friendly, and thej think 
 you are driven away by that Don Moustachio, Captain Wa 
 ters, whom you do not like ! " 
 
 We regret to say that this was a fib : the fox-hunter had 
 no reason to suppose that the Riverhead family had any 
 such thoughts. 
 
 Mr. Eflingham replied : 
 
 " I do not dislike Captain Waters we are good friends." 
 
 " Why then stay away ? " 
 
 Mr. Effiugham replied by the same look which had 
 greeted a similar question from Miss Alethea. And the 
 same suppression of his irritability ensued. 
 
 " I stay away because I visit nowhere," he said. 
 
 " Ah, you fear the bright eyes of Henrietta ! " said Mr. 
 Hamilton. 
 
 This quiet assumption that Clare could not be the source 
 of fear fr^m her peculiar relations towards himself Mr. 
 Hamilton, -produced a painful effect upon Mr. Effingham. 
 He began to feel some rising indignation, too, at these ban- 
 terings from a man who had asked him with a twinkle in 
 his eye, in a former interview, " if he had seen Clare ?" 
 upon his return, the reader will remember. Therefore to 
 Mr. Hamilton's bantering charge, that he feared Henrietta's 
 eyes, he replied, coldly : 
 
 " I think you might have added Miss Clare Lee to the 
 number of those I do not visit at Riverhead, from a senti 
 ment of fear." 
 
 " Clare ? " said Mr. Hamilton, with some surprise, " but, 
 my dear fellow I she is wholly out of the question." 
 
 " How, sir ? " 
 
 " Hum 1 " said Mr. Hamilton, looking mysterious, " per 
 haps I am not at liberty to speak : there are certain thinga 
 which should not be alluded to, I believe." 
 
 Mr. Effingham turned his head aside, and his breast 
 heaved : his cheek grew paler. Then he conquered this 
 emotion, so painful and trying : and turning to his friend, 
 said, as he offered his hand : 
 
 " You are right, Hamilton, I will go to-morrow ! " 
 
 And his head sank. Ten minutes afterwards the Ssign 
 eur Mort-Reynard rose ard departed.
 
 102 GENERALSHIP OP DON MOUbTjLCHIO. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 GENERALSHIP OP DON MOU8TACHIO. 
 
 WHEN the Hall chariot drove up to the residence of Mr, 
 Lee on the succeeding day, it contained in addition to the 
 squire. Miss Alethea and Kate Mr. Effingham. He was 
 perfectly calm, though a little paler than usual, and greeted 
 the ladies with calm and proud courtesy. Mr. Lee was 
 delighted to see them, exhibiting much more satisfaction, 
 indeed, than might have been expected from one merely dis 
 charging the stereotyped duties of a host : and soon the 
 squire and himself were engaged in an obstinate political 
 dispute, which was carried on with various brandishings of 
 the arms, contortions of the visage and flirting of the coat- 
 skirts. But let not the reader imagine that because we have 
 made the squire and Mr. Lee, whenever this narrative has 
 brought them together, dispute vehemently, this disputing is 
 a radical peculiarity of the country gentleman always, no : 
 he sometimes converses, and does not argue. But those 
 were troublous times, and men's minds were agitated ; and 
 whenever the Virginia mind is agitated it brandishes the 
 weapons of oratory, before donning the instruments of na 
 tional warfare. 
 
 But there was another reason, at least in the case of Mr. 
 Lee, for this propensity to talk. Captain Waters had not 
 made his appearance since some days before the races, and 
 the old gentleman missed the loud-voiced soldier. The 
 " Virginia Gazette" and the talk of the girls was a bad sub 
 stitute, and Mr. Lee now opposed every thing the squire 
 said for the pure sake of talking. For it is well known that 
 people who dispute talk the most and the loudest. 
 
 In the middle, however, of a lengthy and involved sen 
 tence, which was trampling disdainfully on Lindley Murray, 
 Mr. Lee found himself greeted by a martial and courteous 
 voice, which said : 
 
 " A charming day, sir 1 " 
 
 And Captain Ralph entered, caressing his moustache and 
 distributing smiles. Behind him came Willie, who had
 
 GENERALSHIP OF ION MOUSTACHIO. 163 
 
 begged off from the parson and followed Kate with devoted 
 love. 
 
 There was a general shaking of hands, and after some 
 desultory conversation, dinner succeeded. After the meal, 
 the various members of the party began conversing. Mr. 
 Lee and the squire sat in the porch smoking their pipes and 
 brandishing their arms, starting up and removing their legs 
 from the balustrade when the fire of the pipes fell on them in 
 the heat of debate, and from time to time replenishing, and 
 lighting the cob pipes with a coal, brought by an ingenui 
 vultus puer ingenuique pudoris of the African race, on 
 a two-pronged fork. When the pipes were refilled, these 
 politicians commenced puffing and arguing with new zest. 
 
 Mr. Effingham and Clare had walked out into the gar 
 den : the Captain, before issuing forth also with Miss Alethea 
 and Henrietta, passed a few moments conversing with Kate, 
 who sat by him on the sofa, the object of Willie's devoted 
 regards. 
 
 " Ah, Monsieur Willie," he said, " I am pleased to see 
 you : and yon, petite mam'selle" he added with a laugh to 
 Kate, " or signorina, or signoretta as the Italians say when 
 they wish to address a very pretty, bright-faced little lady 
 are you well bien aise ? " 
 
 " Merci, monsieur ! parfaitement ! " cried Kate, laughing, 
 and to Willie's profound consternation. 
 
 " Ah ! possible ? you speak French ? " said the delighted 
 Captain. 
 
 " No, no, sir," said Kate, smiling merrily, " that is all I 
 know : please don't speak to me in any thing but English." 
 
 The Captain liked the fresh child's face, and said : 
 
 " I will not, then : but indeed, little miss, I ought to be 
 allowed to use French to describe to you the little Alsatian 
 girls charming little creatures whom you resemble : es 
 pecially in costume." 
 
 Kate assumed a delightful little womanly air, and replied 
 primly : 
 
 " Oh, sir, that about the costume spoils all. Do they 
 dress like me in Alsatia ? Where is that, sir ? " 
 
 " On the Rhine, petite mam'selle, and the costume is like 
 yours. Handsome colored dress, laced in front and orna 
 mented with ribbons fluttering, morbleu 1 like flags 1 skirt,
 
 164 GENERALSHIP OF DON MOUSTACHU. 
 
 I believe they call it, looped back ^ust so, like your own, and 
 this skirt very short like your own again ; hair, lastly, unpow- 
 dered and parted in the middle." 
 
 " Oh, my next dresses are going to be made long," said 
 Kate, " and papa says I shall have my hair powdered." 
 
 " Ah ! that will spoil the likeness ! You should see your 
 counterparts, Mam'selle Kate, with their water-jars on their 
 heads, coming from the fountains singing." 
 
 " They must be very pretty," said Kate, and then she 
 added quickly, laughing and covering her mouth, " indeed I 
 didn't mean that ! you know I did not, sir 1 " 
 
 The Captain laughed heartily, and saying, " parbleu ! I 
 think it very true, they are like you and are very pretty little 
 creatures ! " turned to the elder ladies. 
 
 Willie cast gloomy and jealous looks at Kate, and made 
 signs to the effect that he did not admire Captain Waters, and 
 would like to engage in single combat with that gentleman. 
 
 " Aint you ashamed ! " said Kate, " to be doing so ! " 
 
 "Who is this individual?" said Willie, with a grand 
 air. 
 
 " Captain Waters, sir. You know that very well." 
 
 " Hum 1 " said Willie. 
 
 " You are jealous ! " 
 
 " I aint." 
 
 " To be quarrelling with every body who speaks to me. 
 You ought to be ashamed of yourself, and I like Captain 
 Waters a thousand times better than you. He laughs with 
 me, and you do nothing but quarrel." 
 
 Willie looked so much hurt and mortified at these harsh 
 words, that Kate relented, and said : 
 
 " Now Willie don't be angry you know how much I 
 like you." 
 
 Willie refused to be comforted. 
 
 " I didn't mean I liked him better than you" 
 
 Willie shook his head. 
 
 "For you know you are my sweetheart, added Kate 
 with a fatal glance of her bright eyes. 
 
 Willie brightened. 
 
 " Am I ? " he said, 
 
 " Yes indeed."
 
 HOW HENRIETTA RETURNED THE NECKLACE. 165 
 
 Willie put his hand into his bosom, drew out the truo 
 love indenture, and unrolling it, said solemnly : 
 
 "Sign it?" 
 
 Kate burst out laughing, and cried, " Oh no ! no ! I am 
 not of age, sir ! See they are looking at us and laughing. 
 Oh Willie ! and there's Mr. Hamilton." 
 
 Willie rolled up the contract with a deep sigh, and then 
 followed Kate out into the grove. 
 
 Mr. Hamilton entered just as the colloquy ended, smil 
 ing, good-humored, shaking every body by the hand. The 
 moment he made his appearance, Captain Waters, with con 
 summate generalship, offered his arm to Henrietta, bore her 
 off with a triumphant smile, and disappeared. 
 
 But two observations had passed between the gentlemen. 
 
 " Bon jour, Seigneur Mort-Reynard ! " 
 
 " Why, good day, Don Moustachio ! " 
 
 The former was uttered by the Captain, with malicious 
 courtesy and a low bow ; the latter observation was charac 
 terized by a defeated and humbled look, which we suspect 
 was somewhat affected by Mr Jack Hamilton. The expla 
 nation of all this was, that Mr. Hamilton had mentioned 
 Miss Alethea among the list of ladies who were the enemies 
 and lecturers of bachelors, in the Captain's hearing, a few 
 days before ; and now the Captain, by his rapid and con 
 summate strategy, left him to make himself agreeable to the 
 lecturing lady, while he, the soldier, with his head erect, his 
 breast shaking with laughter, bore off Henrietta. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 HOW HENRIETTA RETURNED THE DIAMOND NECKLACE, 
 
 THEY descended to the lawn. 
 
 " I am glad you came, sir," said Henrietta to the Captain, 
 
 That gentleman assumed a delighted expression of coun 
 tenance, and replied : 
 
 " Really, my dear Madam Henriette, you flatter me ex 
 tremely." 
 
 " Flatter you, sir ? "
 
 166 HOW HENRIETTA RETURNED THE .NECKLACE. 
 
 " Yes, morbleu ! " 
 
 " How, sir?" 
 
 " Why, when a lady says in a soft, charming voice, and 
 with a tender glance, to one of the ruder sex, ' Ah ! I am 
 glad you came ! ' what can it be but an exhibition of extra 
 ordinary regard, and how can the rude individual aforesaid 
 prevent himself from experiencing a sentiment of pleasure at 
 such a flattering observation ? " 
 
 Henrietta listened to this reply, and said, satirically, 
 when the Captain had finished : 
 
 " You are slightly mistaken, sir in two things." 
 
 " What are they ? " asked the Captain, with great anxiety. 
 
 " First, sir, I did not speak in a ' soft, charming voice ' 
 
 " Ah, madam," commenced the gallant Captain. 
 
 " Let me proceed, sir : nor with a ' tender glance ' ten 
 der, indeed ! " 
 
 And Miss Henrietta pouted. 
 
 " See now," said the Captain, " there is another illustra 
 tion of a fact which I have always asserted." 
 
 " Pray, what fact, sir ? " 
 
 " That we do not ourselves know the tone in which we 
 speak are wholly ignorant of the expression of our eyes, 
 morbleu ! " 
 
 And after this audacious bit of philosophy, the soldier 
 looked around him, with a delighted and self-satisfied air, at 
 the grass, the trees, the various pleasant objects visible on 
 the well-kept lawn they were traversing. 
 
 Henrietta felt a strong disposition to take her hand from 
 the arm of her companion ; but this feeling of pique soon 
 passed : she had almost learned to bear the soldier's banter 
 by this time. 
 
 " I did not doubt, sir, when I denied having flattered 
 you," she said, with a somewhat satirical expression, " that 
 you would, with your extreme fertility of invention, find 
 some proof of the assertion you made ; but jesting aside, 
 Captain Waters, I wished to see you ; and that is the simple 
 truth." 
 
 " There again 1 " 
 
 The young girl took no notice of this triumphant ex 
 clamation, and drew from her reticule the oblong morocco 
 case, which we have seen her win upon the day of the race.
 
 HENRIETTA RETURNED THE NECKLACE. 167 
 
 ' About this, sir," sbe said. 
 
 The Captain perused the clouds. 
 
 " Yes," he replied ; " nothing could be truer ! a charm 
 ing afternoon." 
 
 And he looked around with great satisfaction. 
 
 " The necklace, sir " 
 
 " I agree with you." 
 
 " Is entirely too " 
 
 " Yes, they are equal to nightingales. As you observed 
 the song of the oriole is as clear and musical as a silver 
 trumpet ! " 
 
 " I observed no such thing, sir," said Henrietta, piqued 
 at the wanderings of her companion. 
 
 " Ah ! " said the Captain, readily, " but you might have 
 said it ; for nothing could be more just. I have heard the 
 Bendermere nightingales the birds who love the roses so, 
 you are aware, my dear Mademoiselle Henrietta, in G-ulistan, 
 which signifies, if I am not mistaken, ' Land of Roses.' Well, 
 I give you my parole d^honneur I don't think they are much 
 finer than that oriole." 
 
 " Captain Waters 1 " 
 
 " Yes, he's a glorious fellow looks as if he was singing 
 himself away into smoke. I expect to see him rise to the 
 clouds in a moment, like the curl rising up from those grace 
 ful pipes yonder." 
 
 This beautiful illustration did not satisfy Henrietta, who 
 was more and more piqued. 
 
 " Captain Waters, will you or will you not listen to me ? " 
 she said, pouting. 
 
 " Listen to you ? How could you ask such a question ? " 
 said the Captain, gallantly. 
 
 " Well, sir, as it is so pleasant to hear my voice " 
 
 " It is pure music 1 " 
 
 *' Be good enough, sir " 
 
 " Ah, I am very bad ! " 
 
 " To listen while I speak ten consecutive words." 
 
 " Fifteen, fifteen," said the Captain, generously. 
 
 " Very well, sir a littl" of your attention also. I trust 
 ter words will be enough." 
 
 " I will give you twenty-five thirty," said the Captaia
 
 it>8 HOW HENRIETTA RETURNED THE NECKLACE. 
 
 with a noble and enlarged liberality ; " T will even listen if 
 you honor me by conversing throughout the ensuing night." 
 
 Henrietta uttered a little sigh, which meant plainly, 
 " Was there ever such a provoking man to talk to ! " 
 
 " I am dreadfully disagreeable, I know," said the Cap 
 tain, translating his companion's sighs into words as usuaL, 
 " but you are going to weary me to death about that miser 
 able necklace. You are going to make me send it back t'j 
 the port of New York to have it altered, re-set, some 
 thing." 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 " What then ? " 
 
 ;< I wish you to send it back to be retained, or present it 
 to some one else." 
 
 "How so? >? 
 
 " I cannot accept it, sir." 
 
 " Accept 1 " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Why, you won it fairly ; it is the spoils of a fair battle 
 of your bow and spear : you won it." 
 
 " No, I did not, Captain Waters. I laid a very ridicu 
 lous wager of a trifle against a trifle, I thought. My 
 stake I believe that is the word was this curl " 
 
 " Which reminds me that I won it on the final result ! " 
 cried the Captain. " Come, pay your debts, morbleu 1 my 
 dear Madam Henriette." 
 
 " For heaven's sake, sir, let me go on." 
 
 " You have finished the thirty words," said the Captain, 
 with ready logic. " My curl ! my curl I " 
 
 Henrietta, in a paroxysm of impatience, pulled down 
 And bit the curl in two, and threw it in the direction of her 
 companion. The Captain extended his hand and received it 
 as it fell. 
 
 " Parbleu, 'tis far more valuable than I expected 1 " he 
 cried ; " as far more valuable as a row of pearls are than a 
 pair of miserable and unhappy scissors 1 " 
 
 Henrietta could not retain a smile at this grotesque and 
 ridiculous speech ; which, like all the Captain's observations, 
 seemed to be intended solely to defer the subject he wished 
 to avoid. 
 
 ' I am pleased to hear that my teeth are pearls," sh
 
 HOW HENRIETTA RETURNED THE NECKLACE. 169 
 
 said ; " I did not know it before, sir. And now jut for 
 heaven's sake what are you doing, sir ? " 
 
 The Captain, in fact, was holding his sword up before him, 
 point down. He made no reply, but touching a little spring, 
 opened the hilt, and deposited the curl in the cavity. After 
 performing this remarkable operation, he lowered the weapon 
 again, and twirled his moustache. 
 
 " That is my receptacle for title deeds, curls, and other 
 valuables, ma foi ! " he said ; " that is to say, it will be if 
 I ever get any title deeds. But I have made a good be 
 ginning I " 
 
 And he burst into laughter, significantly. Henrietta 
 chose not to understand this laugh perhaps did not and 
 said : 
 
 " When you interrupted me, sir, I was about to say that 
 I laid a wager with you, and staked what I considered a 
 trifle" 
 
 " No, no ! " interposed the Captain. 
 
 " Against what I thought was equally unimportant," 
 continued Henrietta. 
 
 " The curl was much the more costly," said the Captain, 
 " and morbleu ! I will not now exchange." 
 
 " You exacted a promise from me," continued Henrietta, 
 not heeding these interruptions, " that I would not open the 
 case until I returned home. I did not, thinking it some 
 trifle. Instead of a trifle it is a magnificent diamond neck 
 lace." 
 
 And opening the case, she drew out the necklace, which 
 was of extraordinary beauty and value. The diamonds were 
 very large, and set in the most tasteful manner. The bauble 
 must have been worth at least a thousand guineas. 
 
 " Take it, Captain Waters," said Henrietta, " I cannot 
 keep it." 
 
 " How vexatious/' said the Captain very seriously ; < l what 
 in the world am I to do with it ? Besides, I am not on- 
 titled to it you know very well I am not, madam." 
 
 " I do not consider the wager binding, sir ; I cannot ac 
 cept it." 
 
 " Answer, now, did you not confess the other day at 
 Effingham Hall," continued the Captain, readily, " that I had 
 caused you to break your own necklace ? "
 
 170 HOW HENRIETTA RE1 JRNEI THE NECKLACE. 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 The Captain looked triumphant. 
 
 " But, sir," said Henrietta, " that was in one of those 
 piques which I am afraid I have indulged in very frequently 
 in your presence." 
 
 " Yes, I am a terrible annoyer ! " 
 
 " I meant to blame myself, sir," said the young girl ; " I 
 am somewhat quick, and I now embrace the opportunity to 
 say that I trust you will pardon any harsh words I have 
 been led to utter." 
 
 " Harsh ! it is impossible that you could ! " cried the 
 soldier, delighted at getting away from the subject of the 
 necklace. 
 
 " Very well, sir ; I am glad you think so well of me. 
 Now take the necklace." 
 
 And she held it out. The Captain became again de 
 spairing. 
 
 " Why you have a double claim to it," he said ; " first, 
 I broke your own; secondly, and lastly, you have fairly 
 won this." 
 
 " My hand is almost tired, sir." 
 
 " What am I to do ? " cried the Captain, disconsolately ; 
 ' if I take that back to my house it will lie about be thrown 
 here and there ; Lanky will perhaps take possession, and 
 Donsy Smith will be the ultimate possessor ! " 
 
 With which words the Captain groaned. 
 
 " Lanky ? Donsy Smith ? Who in the world are they ? " 
 
 " The first is my servant, the second his sweetheart," 
 said the Captain, ready to weep. 
 
 Henrietta burst into a laugh. 
 
 " Do you really mean that you would permit your ser 
 vant to take such a beautiful necklace ? " she said, admiring 
 the glittering jewels. 
 
 " What could I do with them ? " asked the forlorn sol 
 dier ; " besides, I think they would become my honest re 
 tainer's sweetheart Donsy. She is a charming little crea 
 ture 1" 
 
 " How ? Do you know her ? " 
 
 " Yes, indeed very intimately. She had a pleasant ride 
 with me the other day." 
 
 Miss Henrietta imagined a picture of Captain Waters in
 
 HOW HENRIETTA RETURNED THE NECKLACE. l7i 
 
 the saddle, with the arms of a " charming little creature * 
 round his waist as she rode behind, and was not much 
 pleased with the effort of her fancy. 
 
 " Donsy is a fine, bright faced girl, very lady-like and 
 pleasing ; they would suit her," said the Captain, with a 
 thoughtful sigh. " Yes, yes, she's a sweet creature, and I 
 nearly threw Lanky into a fever some weeks since, by an 
 nouncing my intention to enter the lists as his rival." 
 
 " You, sir ? " said Henrietta. 
 
 This exclamation did not displease the Captain. 
 
 " Yes, yes, my dear madam, even me. She would make 
 me a capital wife, and I assure you I am becoming tired of 
 single blessedness. In one word, I want a wife." 
 
 Henrietta made no reply. 
 
 " Stop ! " continued the Captain, " you must have seen 
 Donsy, down there at the races ! " 
 
 " I, sir ? " said Henrietta, coldly. 
 
 " Why, yes ! Do you not recollect a lovely little crea 
 ture, of seventeen or thereabouts, who won the finely-bound 
 volumes of ballads in the singing match after the race ? " 
 
 " I believe I saw her," said Henrietta, with the freezing 
 air of a duchess. 
 
 " Well, that was Donsy," said the Captain, apparently 
 absorbed in the bright memory, and fixing his eyes thought 
 fully on the clouds. 
 
 " And you would marry this little " 
 
 Henrietta stopped ; she could not find a word. 
 
 " Fairy ? " suggested the Captain, cheerfully ; " why I 
 do not see any objection beyond the affection Lanky bears 
 her. You know, my dear Mam'selle Henrietta, that I am 
 not of very excellent family as opinions go, for, frankly 
 speaking, I think I am. My father is an old fishmonger, 
 the name applied derisively, you will recollect, by my Lord 
 Hamlet, to the counsellor Polonius. Charley's a small far 
 mer ; Beatrice was an actress. Charley's my brother ; 
 Beatrice my sister. We are all poor, but honest," con 
 tinued the Captain, laughing, " and I think the bon pl^e 
 health to him ! is the most honest of all ! " 
 
 With which words the Captain looked cheerfully, and 
 with a fine light on his martial features, toward the west. 
 
 Henrietta, for a moment, made no reply, the hand hold-
 
 172 HOW HENRIETTA RETURNED THE NECK -ACl. 
 
 ing the necklace hanging at her side. Then, looking at the 
 martial face, which, with its high and proud look, and its 
 warlike appendages, towered above her, flooded with the red 
 sunset, brow, and eyes and cheeks, the brow and cheeks 
 browned by sun and wind, the clear eyes, giving back the 
 golden flush of evening, she said in a low voice : 
 
 " Captain Waters, why do you so incessantly allude to 
 this subject of birth? Do you fancy for a moment, sir, 
 that I do not consider you as true a gentleman as the no 
 blest in the land ? That I am blind to the fact that you 
 are a brave soldier and a refined man, worthy of all respect ? 
 You cannot think that I consider you ashamed of your 
 birth ! Why, then, say this so often ? " 
 
 " Ashamed of my birth ? True, I am not, my dear 
 Mam'selle Henriette," said the Captain. " The bon pre 
 is a nobleman ; Charley's a seigneur chevalier of the mid 
 dle ages ; and Beatrice, parbleu I Beatrice is a born 
 duchess ! " 
 
 And the Captain burst into laughter. 
 
 " We are all sovereigns for we're honest ! " he con 
 tinued, with a quick change in his expression to an aspect 
 of noble pride. " My father, mam'selle, is brave and hon 
 est, and with a great heart morbleu 1 a noble, kindly, gen 
 erous heart ; I am indifferent ready with my hand, to open 
 it, or close it on a sword hilt, that is my profession ; Bea 
 trice is a wealthy, golden nature, as true as she is beautiful, 
 as good and pure as she is lovely ; and Charley tonnere ! 
 my dear madam, my brother Charley is one of those natures 
 which are very seldom met with. I have seen dukes and 
 generals, lords and ministers ; I have heard all talk ; I have 
 seen all speak with those noble lips, the eyes : well, madam, 
 I have never met a more powerful soul than Charley's. He 
 has the strength of calmness ; but I am wearying you. 
 Enough no ! you are right, my Jear madam, I, perhaps, 
 have even too high an opinion of my family 1 ' 
 
 And, after this outburst, which, every word of it, was 
 Bpoken with a proud sincerity which lit up the martial fea 
 tures, like the sunset, Captain Ralph was silent. 
 
 Henrietta replied, in a low voice : 
 
 " This was not necessary, sir." 
 
 And she held up the necklace for him to take.
 
 THE TWO TREKS. 173 
 
 " Oh, heaven preserve me ! I thought we had dropped 
 that subject 1 " said the soldier, resuming his tone of vexa 
 tion and humor. 
 
 " I cannot accept such a valuable present, sir," said the 
 young girl, with some embarrassment. 
 
 " Then oblige me by keeping it for me," said the soldier 
 " I really have no receptacle for it." 
 
 Henrietta hesitated. 
 
 " You need not wear it, my dear mam'selle," he said. 
 
 Henrietta hesitated still. 
 
 " Well," said the Captain, " I suppose Donsy must have 
 it; morbleu ! 'tis vexatious, for here your name is engraved 
 upon it beneath here at least, your initials, my dear Miss 
 Henriette ; and I must send back the bauble to have them 
 erased. See ! " 
 
 And pointing to a small gold plate, he showed her the 
 letters H. L. ; but these letters were so engraved that space 
 was left upon the plate for another letter. 
 
 She understood ; a deep blush suffused her face ; her 
 head drooped. 
 
 " Will you not keep it ? " said the Captain. 
 
 " Yes," she said, in a lower tone than she had yet 
 spoken. 
 
 A brilliant light illuminated the martial features of the 
 soldier, and they walked on in silence. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 THE TWO TEEEa 
 
 CLARE and Mr. Effingham, as we have said, had gone into 
 the garden. 
 
 He had quietly taken her hand in his with a calm and 
 mild look in his shadowy eyes, placed the hand on his arm 
 and led her into the old garden, where they both had played 
 in childhood, and talked merrily in the old days, whose 
 every flower bed, and row of trim box, and towering tree, 
 was old and familiar and dear. And she had followed him 
 with some slight agitation, but a soft look of maiden diffi
 
 174 THE ?WO TREES. 
 
 dence, which made her more beautiful than he had erer seefl 
 her look before. 
 
 It was one of those evenings which seem to unite all the 
 freshness of the spring, all the gorgeous wealth of summer, 
 all the melancholy softness of the misty autumn, and the 
 golden Indian summer, into one perfect whole. The per 
 fumed breezes, laden with the odors of a million early flow 
 ers, came softly from the far south : the oriole hung on the 
 poplar spray, and sung his soul away for joy ; the leaves, 
 and buds, and flowers, had all the tender velvety softness 
 of the early spring ; and over all the great sun poured the 
 fresh crimson light of morning. 
 
 Mr. Effingham walked on for some time in silence. 
 Then, pausing in a grassy nook, he pointed, with a mild 
 glance at the young girl, to two trees which grew side by 
 side. 
 
 " How long ago it seems ! " he said, with a pensive 
 accent, which was quite calm and unaffected. 
 
 " Yes," said Clare, in a low voice, " we were children." 
 
 " And now we are grown-up people," said Mr. Effing- 
 ham. " We have almost wholly forgotten those old happy 
 days when we planted those trees, when, taking your hand 
 in mine, I said, " Clarry, we will come here every day we 
 live, and see how we are growing. Do you not remember ? " 
 
 " Yes," she murmured. 
 
 " I at least have not kept that resolution ; have you ? " 
 
 " I have come very often," she said, in the same low 
 tone. 
 
 He looked at her for a moment : and not a trait of the 
 soft, tender face, the mild, dewy eyes, the innocent, artless 
 lips, escaped him. She stood before him the loving ideal of 
 bis dreams ; the memory he had summoned in that evening 
 musing; the child-enchantress of his youth, who ever stood 
 before his mind's eye, holding out her arms to him, her brow 
 wreathed round with flowers, her eyes and lips murmuring, 
 " Come ! " He felt what he was losing, a contraction of his 
 pale brow proved it, and the hand he laid upon his heart 
 But these exhibitions of emotion soon passed away, and his 
 face regained the calm sadness which habitually characterized 
 * 
 
 " When I asked," he said mildly, " if you had kept that
 
 THE TWO TREES 175 
 
 child resolution to come and look at these trees every day, I 
 did not mean a reproach. Ah no ! That is assuredly not 
 possible from me to you. I came to speak to you quite 
 calmly, as those who have been happy children together may 
 speak to each other ; and to open my heart to you. This is 
 due to myself. It will make me happier, and I cannot lose 
 the occasion to make my lot somewhat brighter." 
 
 He paused for a moment, and continued in the same low, 
 mild voice. 
 
 " What I have to say is a confession, Clare there is no 
 harm in my calling you by that name now a brief confes 
 sion, which will explain much in my career, which I doubt not 
 has made you look unhappy when my name ever was men 
 tioned in your presence. And let me speak first of those 
 days which we passed here. Now, it seems, long centuries 
 ago. I loved you dearly as a child : you were my saint, my 
 ideal nay ! Why blush, Clare ? You must have known 
 it from my eyes ; yes, my heart spoke to you much more 
 plainly than my lips could speak. I say again you were my 
 ideal, all my world was full of you. I dreamed, and sang, 
 and thought of you alone. The old romances took a glory 
 from your smile, and I understood for the first time what the 
 ' love of ladies' meant, and how the old chevaliers willingly 
 perilled life for their idols. You gilded my existence with a 
 new, undreamed of light; the future expanded before me 
 like a boundless horizon where all the glory of the sun, all 
 the perfume of the breezes, all the fairy melodies of whisper 
 ing pines and flowers were mingled into one harmonious and 
 perfect ideal of warmth, and joy, and beauty. I saw only 
 you in the wide universe you. were the star that guided me 
 upon my way you kept me pure and your eyes seemed 
 ever on me ; still and calm and innocent eyes that blessed 
 me. I recall you now so perfectly, that my frozen heart 
 beats again and again. I am a child. I recall all those 
 happy days; you were a merry, bright-eyed child, full of 
 tenderness and joy ! and the breath from that far past comes 
 to me again faint, like the odor of those spring flowers 
 yonder in the grass, but strong as fate. I see you as I saw 
 you then an incarnation of pure grace, and tender joy, a 
 fairy from the far laud of dreams my love my blessing. 
 
 " Well, well : you will tire of all this prosing : let me
 
 176 THE TWO TREES. 
 
 pass on. I loved you. I asked nothing better than to live 
 and die with you ; for I thought I could not breathe without 
 you. I grew older, and I loved you still with the same pure 
 feeling, and the child's heart was grafted into the wild boy's 
 breast ; and in all his wild pranks and dissipations you were 
 in his heart, softening and blessing him, and making him 
 more pure. I changed for the worse, somewhat you, if you 
 changed at all, for the better ; your childlike innocence waa 
 all the more striking in the girl; your face assumed the 
 tender seriousness of incipient womanhood. I could not love 
 you more than when we were child-lovers ; but I loved you 
 with more strength and calmness. I thought that feeling 
 would remain unchanged through all shocks and changes. 
 Well ! 
 
 He paused again, and looked at the two trees thought 
 fully : his brow was slightly overshadowed. 
 
 " Well," he continued, mildly still, "I went to Europe, 
 that changed my life, and made me lose sight of my innocent 
 star. No longer near you, I was a worse, a less pure man. 
 I plunged into every species of dissipation ; I felt developed 
 in me that fiery character which I inherit from my race. 
 Aroused, you know, we pass all bounds. Draw the curtain 
 over that mad time, when, nominally at Oxford, I lived in 
 London ; that may be omitted. 
 
 " I returned to Virginia, here, with the heart of a worn- 
 out gamester. Nothing interested me. I was, as far as my 
 capacity to enjoy simple things, completely exhausted. Every 
 thing wearied me ; life was a lame and tedious comedy which 
 I played without caring for the hisses or the applause. I passed 
 my days in idle lounging ; I slept long, and passed my whole 
 time in a terrible mental indolence, the most dreadful of all. 
 I had lost sight of you you were no longer in my eyes ; 
 but I now feel and know you were in my heart. 
 
 " I came and brought to you my weary air and exhausted 
 feelings. You did not draw back on finding the man so 
 different from the boy ; you held out your hands to me with 
 the old, frank, childish kindness and affection, and my heart 
 was touched. The past came back to me, and I was not so 
 gloomy. That was the crisis of my life the turning point ; 
 every thing was balanced ; a hair in either scale would have 
 turned it
 
 THE TWO TREES. 177 
 
 " Fate decreed that your innocent face should not shine 
 on me ; a rude hand struck the balance, and all was over. 
 That strange young girl came to Virginia, and I became in 
 fatuated. You know the unhappy history of that delirium ; 
 the family blood again. I do not hold down my head and 
 blush, and say forgive me no ! I say that my actions 
 were those of a madman ; that I was infatuated ; that I now 
 regard that whole drama as some wild dream. I say further 
 that I have cruelly suffered, that I have bitterly expiated mj 
 offence ; that the pang that tore my bosom more cruelly than 
 all, was the thought of you ; for I have lost you. Well 1 
 After that mad, wild dream, I went to Europe again, and had 
 my despair and suffering in due season, and then came home 
 again as you see me, almost apathetic. I have done with 
 feeling, I shall never love again." 
 
 He stopped ; his bosom heaved : he went on. 
 
 " My tedious talk, no doubt, has wearied you ; but it was 
 my duty, Clare, to come and tell you by the trees which we 
 planted in our happy childhood, why I had not remained 
 faithful to that vow we made. I have shown you how cruelly 
 I was tortured by a mad infatuation ; how my headstrong 
 passions drove me to commit actions which I regard now 
 with horror ; how through all my unfortunate career, that 
 golden childhood I have spoken of, was shrined in my heart 
 of hearts. There was no impropriety in my telling you this, 
 for I know all. He is my friend, and has a noble heart. 
 Well ! well ! I will try not to suffer too greatly ; and here 
 under the shade of these trees we planted, amid the scenes 
 of all our childhood joys, I ask God to bless you, Clare, and 
 thank you for the small share of purity I have left, and say 
 to you, ' I will love and cherish your memory always, as that 
 of the tenderest soul, the warmest, purest heart that ever 
 was in human bosom.' No ! do not speak enough ; here 
 comes little Kate, who resembles you, for she is good and 
 ;>ure. I have spoken with difficulty ; it is not easy to be 
 calm when all one's hopes are gone for ever ; it is better that 
 you should not speak." 
 
 And placing her hand upon his arm, he led the trembling 
 blushing, weeping girl away, and to the house. He was out 
 wardly calm, and all the way back to the Hall he remained 
 quiet and silent. It was the silence of despair ; that scene 
 had overcome him, and his heart was faint. 
 22
 
 178 IN WHICH THE HISTORY DESCENDS TO THE LOVES 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 IN 'WHICH THE HI8TOET DESCENDS TO THE LOVES OF 
 AND PHILLISES IN ARCADY. 
 
 "LUGYI" 
 
 " Did you address a observation to me, Cap'n ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir ; on a former occasion 1 stated that you were 
 a villain and a wretch ; I now add, that you are a poltroon ! 
 
 " Oh, Cap'n ! Cap'n ! " cried Lanky, who being wholly 
 ignorant of the meaning of the word poltroon, naturally con 
 sidered it something infinitely worse than wretch and villain. 
 
 " Yes, a poltroon ! " continued the Captain, " and I will 
 wager a hundred pounds that your benighted ignorance is 
 such, that you do not know what it means." 
 
 Lanky scratched his head. 
 
 " Come 1 say now, you rascal." 
 
 " A poltroon ? " said Lanky, studying the table ; " is it 
 an individual who is broke into a hen-roost, and wringed the 
 necks of the cock-a-doodle-doo's, Cap'n ? " 
 
 " No, you villain : you will never guess, at that rate." 
 
 " Oh ! " cried Lanky, " it's a feller who plays upon the 
 fiddle and don't know how 1" 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 " Then I give it up, Cap'n : but I ain't a poltroon 1 
 ain't that is. if it's any thing bad, leastways very bad." 
 
 And Lanky was silent. 
 
 This conversation took place three or four days after the 
 scenes we have just related, in the mansion of the Captain. 
 The sun was declining it was a pleasant afternoon, and the 
 waves of the James were lapping with a long swell upon the 
 shore beneath the cottage. The Captain occupied his habi 
 tual seat, formerly used by old John Waters, and smoked his 
 meerschaum ; Lanky sat doubled up upon his cricket, his 
 hands clasped around his knees, his fine new fiddle lying near ; 
 bis pine-knot head, and enormous feet, and striped stockings 
 and brilliant fustian waistcoat, all illuminated by the joy 
 shining from his eyes. Something had evidently occurred 
 very pleasing to Lanky, and his thoughts were plainly agree 
 able thoughts
 
 OP CORYDONS AND PHILLISES IN ARCADt 179 
 
 After his reply to the Captain, Lanky would have conti 
 nued his meditations, but this his master was by no means 
 willing to permit. 
 
 " You say," continued the soldier, pouring forth a cloud 
 of snowy smoke, " that my charge against you, you scara 
 mouch, cannot be any thing bad, ' leastways very bad,' as 
 your elegant dialect has it. Now, sir, I will let you know 
 that ' poltroon ' is not a flattering expression. It means a 
 coward, sir 1 " 
 
 " Oh me ! a coward, Cap'n 1 " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Me a coward ? " 
 
 " Yes ; I understand, sir, you are pluming yourself upon 
 overcoming one of the clergy the other day. Are you not 
 ashamed, you villain, to attack a holy man in the conscien 
 tious discharge of his dignified and ennobling duty of train 
 ing up the youthful intellect in the paths of virtue and 
 exalted purity ? " 
 
 And having addressed this stern reproach to Lanky, the 
 Captain smoked faster than ever. Lanky's face assumed an 
 expression of consternation. 
 
 " Why, Cap'n," he said, " you called him a gobmoush, 
 yourself ! " 
 
 The Captain frowned. 
 
 " I am not you, sir," he said, " and I am surprised that 
 you place yourself on a level with me. The parson was an 
 old fellow-soldier, and we can interchange these small com 
 pliments ; but you, sir, are bound to regard him as a noble 
 spiritual guide." 
 
 Lanky scratched his head. 
 
 4 1 say you are a poltroon, you rascal," continued his 
 master, " in spite of your ferocious attack upon i man only 
 armed with a stick of wood, while you had a sword." 
 
 " Oh ! Cap'n, he was a-presumin' to threaten Donsy." 
 
 " There that is where you are a coward." 
 
 " Ob, sir 1 " 
 
 " Donsy is the word." 
 
 Cap'n ? " 
 
 " Ah 1 you don't understand. Well, sir, I say that you 
 are a coward because you have not attacked and reduced to 
 submission that citade}."
 
 180 IN WHICH THE HISTORY DESCENDS TO THE LOVES 
 
 " Me, Cap'n ? " said Lanky, with a self-satisfied smile, like 
 the sunshine on a pine knot. 
 
 " Yes, sir and that in spite of every thing I have done for 
 you." 
 
 Lanky smiled again. 
 
 " I gave you a seat in my coach by your sweetheart, 1 
 drank some execrable rum for your sake at that Mr. A. Z. 
 Smith's, the villain ; I have done my best, opened the 
 trenches, fixed the scaling ladders, and when the word to ad 
 vance upon the fortress is passed to you, morbleu 1 you 
 hang fire, and lie down in despair like a sleepy dog.' 
 
 Lanky burst out : 
 
 " Oh, I ain't done it ! " 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 " I fit it out," observed Lanky, triumphantly 
 
 " Speak, you scaramouch ! how have you done have you 
 really charged the enemy ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir leastways, I been a-courting Donsy," said 
 Lanky, with simplicity. 
 
 The Captain burst into laughter. 
 
 " Have you really ? " he said. 
 
 " Yes I is, Cap'n." 
 
 " Tell me how it was, and if I find that you have acquit 
 ted yourself bravely, I'll retract that unjust aspersion on 
 your courage." 
 
 Lanky seemed nowise averse to complying with this re 
 quest, and said : 
 
 " You know, Cap'n, Donsy and me had a nice Saturday 
 together, after the things 'at took place at the Oldfield 
 school." 
 
 " Do I know it ? not a whit of it, master scaramouch. 
 Speak." 
 
 " Well, sir," said Lanky, with an expression of modest 
 pride at his own generalship, " we had a nice fish that day, 
 and we had a walk, yestiddy, down in the woods." 
 
 " You unconscionable rascal not content with water 
 scenery, you must explore the woodland, too." 
 
 " Yes, Cap'n : that's just what we did ; we 'splored the 
 woodlan'. Ou the previous 'casion we had a good time; but 
 oh, Cap'n, that wa'ut nothin' to the other." 
 
 " You had a pleasant fishing frolic, did you ? "
 
 OP CORYDONS AND PHILLISES IN ARCADY. 181 
 
 " Yes, sur ; 'fore we went away in the fine coach, Donsy 
 ind me made a bargain to go on the next day a-fishin' to 
 gether. Well, Cap'n, we went thar and I 'tacked the enemy 
 all the time. I remembered what you told me, sur, and I kept 
 my chin up and my eyes straight for, you see, havin' reskied 
 Donsy from the parson. I was proud." 
 
 " Very well, sir." 
 
 " Donsy did'nt laugh at me much, I tell you ; but she 
 was quite still, an' good, an' we fished all day ; and when we 
 come back, she giv' me both her hands, and said, in her nice 
 little voice, ' Come again, soon, Lanky.' I feel like a villain 
 talkin' 'bout it," continued Lanky, " but you ain't hard to 
 talk to, Cap'n." 
 
 The Captain appreciated this compliment and smoked on. 
 
 " Then como the races," continued Lanky, " and you 
 know, sur, me and Donsy both got a prize ; she got the quire 
 of ballads, an' I got the fiddle." 
 
 " Well, sir." 
 
 " I got the stockin's, too, said Lanky, proudly, " and they 
 was to be giv' up to the han'somest girl upon the ground. 
 'Course, sir, I giv' 'em to Donsy. 1 did." 
 
 " Of course ; I'd have liked to have seen you presume to 
 give them to any one else." 
 
 " Well, sur," continued Lanky, embracing his knees and 
 not heeding this interruption, " Donsy liked that, and I think 
 it made a impression on her, Cap'n. 'Tai'nt every day that 
 girls get silk stockin's, I tell you, and they like 'em ac- 
 cordin'." 
 
 " A profound remark, sir," said the Captain, " and quite 
 true. I admire the moral and philosophic sentiments with 
 which you adorn your discourse, Lanky ; you are a man of 
 sense." 
 
 Lanky received this compliment with a modest expression, 
 as who should say, " Well, I believe I am," and so con 
 tinued : 
 
 " Them stockin's walked into her 'factions, Cap'n." 
 
 " You mean, sir, that she donned the said stockings and 
 walked into yours, eh ? " said the Captain. 
 
 " Oh, sur, she done that long before I. giv' her the stock 
 in's." 
 
 " Well, proceed."
 
 1 82 IN WHICH THE HISTORY DESCENDS TO THE LOVES 
 
 " She smiled so sweet on me that day, sur," continued 
 Lanky, proudly, " that I thought I'd make a 'pintment with 
 her, and put tbe-question 'mediately." 
 
 " Quite right, Lanky." 
 
 "I thought I heard somethin' a sayin' to me, ' Go in, 
 Lanky go in an' win ; ' I'm " 
 
 " Exactly what every great man would tell you not ex 
 cepting the grand Frederic." 
 
 Lanky was proud of this comparison, and proceeded : 
 
 " So I tol' Donsy I was comin' next Saturday bein' last 
 Saturday, sur to walk with her in the woods and play my 
 fiddle." 
 
 " Ah, you rascal ! not content with personating Mars, 
 the god of war you are ambitious to excel Apollo, the god 
 of music." 
 
 Lanky felt prouder still at this nobler compliment than 
 the first. 
 
 " Well, Bur," said Lanky, u she said she would and 
 promised to bring her quire o' ballads ; it's mighty purty, 
 sur, an's got a picture in the front that beats the world all 
 of lovely ladies an' han'some gentlemanses a playin' in the 
 woods." 
 
 " Ah really ? " 
 
 " Yes, sur ; and they've got long waistses, and carry 
 things with a crook at the top, and ribbons are flutterin' 
 every where, and they are a smilin' an' simperin' an' makin 1 
 love," added Lanky, after hesitating a moment. 
 
 " Making love ! that's why you like the Corydons and 
 Phillises so much ! Go on, sir." 
 
 " Well, Cap'n," continued Lanky, clasping his hands 
 round his knees, twirling his thumbs one over the other de 
 lightedly, and gazing at his feet, " well, sur, me an' Donsy 
 went and oh ! we had such a time. Would you b'lieve 
 me, she had brought a whole bundle of red ribbons ; and 
 when we got to where we was to eat the snack " 
 
 " Snack 1 you horrible and atrocious wretch 1 Did you 
 mix up snack with love ? Lanky, you are a dreadful fel 
 low I " 
 
 " Oh, sur, you know we was hungry; but Donsy didn't 
 eat much nuther did I : and she only nibbled off a littlf 
 piece o' biscuit, like a pretty mouse, you know, Cap 'a."
 
 Ofr COfcYDONS AND PH1LL1SES IN ARCADY. IBS 
 
 " Rascal i to compare your sweetheart to a mouse I " 
 
 " A vreUy mouse, Cap'n," said Lanky, correcting his 
 maste , " but, howsomdever, I'll go on. I broke a cake in 
 two, and says I, ' Donsy, that's my heart, if you won't lovft 
 me.' She laughed, and took a cake and eat it like a heart. 
 ' This is mine, Lanky,' says she, blushin.' ' May I have it ?' 
 says I ; and she didn't take away her hand,^-only she 
 started up, droppin' the cake into my hand." 
 
 " And what did you do with it, sir ? " 
 
 " I eat it, sur," said Lanky, with great simplicity. 
 
 " Go on ! " said the Captain, shaking with laughter. 
 
 " Donsy started up first an' told me she would sing, and 
 I must then play. Oh ! what a voice she's got, sur 1 It 
 makes me feel like honey was a droppin' down from the sky, 
 and a feller had his mouth open 1 " 
 
 " A fine sentiment," said the Captain, generously. 
 
 " Well, sur, then I played my fiddle, and you may be 
 sure I made it say, ' Donsy, I'm a dyin' for you.' I didn't 
 play any but the mournful chunes, an' I made 'em talk to 
 her, and she understood, for she sort o' blushed, sur. Well, 
 I got through, an' then Donsy, laughin', took up the rib 
 bon, an' pointin' to the picture in the book, said I must 
 have ribbon knots tied all over me, sur. I didn't keer, an' 
 she tied 'em on my coat, my breast, my elbows, my hair : 
 and then she did herself so too. Oh, sur, how she looked 1 
 I felt a sort o' tremblin' when I saw her beautiful hair all 
 flutterin' with ribbons ; the body of her dress covered ; 
 her shoes with big rosettes in 'em ; and, if a feller might be 
 allowed to say it, the silk stockin's I giv' her, on. Oh 1 she 
 looked so bright an' red an' laughin' ; and when she give me 
 a sort o' crooked thing, and took one herself, she looked like 
 the lady in the picture. She stopped a little then, an' I see 
 her blush. ' You shall be my shepherd, Lanky,' she said, 
 in her melojus voice and I answered quick as lightnin', 
 ' Then you must be my shepherdess, my dear Miss Donsy,' 
 and she blushed agin ! I knew the time had come, sur," 
 cried Lanky ; " I recollected your advice, an' I put the 
 question right to her 1 and made her a speech ! and it's 
 all arranged 1 and she's agreed to marry me ! and she's 
 the sweetest creatur in the world I and I love her to dia-
 
 184 VISITORS. 
 
 traction ! and I feel like a villain, and a rascal, and a hen 
 roost thief for tellin' 'bout it ! and " 
 
 Lanky burst into tears, and swayed about, and laughed 
 and cried. The recollection of his happiness had brought 
 on an access of joyful tears in the honest fellow : and the 
 Captain laughed no longer at him. 
 
 " Lanky," said he, " if the Corydons and Phillises of 
 antiquity were as honest lads and lasses as you and Donsy, 
 the old Arcadian days were truly happy 1 " 
 
 And Lanky only said : 
 
 0h, Cap'nl" 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 VI8ITOK8, 
 
 CAPTAIN RALPH did not laugh at Lanky again, for he re 
 spected the sincerity and truth of his rude, boorish retain 
 ers, highly. He knew that Lanky, at that moment, loved 
 Donsy as purely and delicately as the highest gentleman in 
 the land and one of Captain Ralph's rules was, never to 
 deride sincere emotion. 
 
 " Well now, Lanky," he said, " you tell me that Donsy 
 has consented to marry you ? " 
 
 " Yes, sur," said Lanky, in an inarticulate tone. 
 
 " Are you fixed to marry ? " 
 
 " I'm 'fraid not, sur." 
 
 " Hum ! " 
 
 " But Donsy says she'll wait a thousand years for me, 
 sur." 
 
 " That would be too long," said his master. 
 
 " I know she'd do it, sur." 
 
 " No doubt : but then she would be a thousand and 
 seventeen years old ; much too antique to enter into matri 
 mony. She is seventeen, eh ? " 
 
 " Nearly eighteen, sur." 
 
 " And you ? 
 
 " I was nineteen last month, sur." 
 
 " All right, morbleu ! and now, what would you say if I 
 pet you up in the world ? "
 
 VISITORS. 186 
 
 ** Oh, Cap'n 1 " cried Lanky literally cried. 
 
 " That would be an expressive observation," said the sol 
 dier, looking kindly at his retainer ; " but I mean how would 
 you like to farm ? " 
 
 " Oh, sur ! " 
 
 " You mean you would like it very well ? " 
 
 " Oh, Cap'n ! me an' Donsy would " 
 
 And then the honest fellow stopped, unable to proceed : 
 the splendid vision overcame him. 
 
 " Suppose I were to give you a lease of the cottage here, 
 with all appurtenances carts and every thing the fifty 
 acres, and the boats : the rent to be paid out of the pro 
 ceeds at your leisure ? " 
 
 " Oh, sur ! " 
 
 The Captain smiled. 
 
 " Do you think, however, that Smith will consent ? " 
 
 " I dn'no, Cap'n." 
 
 " Have you asked him ? " 
 
 " For Donsy ? no, sur." 
 
 The Captain shook his head. 
 
 " I'm as good as he is, sur," said Lanky, proudly ; " an' 
 my mother was a real lady, sur old farmer Brock's 
 daughter. I never could git to talk right but I loved her, 
 sur, mor'n any thing. That's what Donsy said, sur saya 
 she, ' Lanky, I like you because you loved your mother so : ' 
 that's what she said, sur." 
 
 And Lanky cried. 
 
 " Well, well," said the Captain, " listen now. I will 
 try and get friend Smith to consent. Don't be cast down, 
 mon ami there is no reason. Diable / many an honest 
 fellow has had harder times than that to get his sweetheart. 
 I repeat that I'll try and make Donsy's bon pere give his 
 assent. And now, I return to the cottage." 
 
 " Oh, sur 1 " 
 
 " I want some splendid palace to live in. Diable ! what 
 is life worth if one is not an emperor ? " 
 
 Lanky nods affirmatively. 
 
 " I must have an empire ! " 
 
 Lanky nods again, quite sure that if his master really 
 wants it, the empire which is an ambiguous thing to hiui-- 
 will assuredly come.
 
 186 VISITORS. 
 
 l> Having bought a chariot and horses, I naturally want 
 some place to put them in," continued his master, smoking. 
 
 " Oh yes, Cap'n." 
 
 " Perhaps, like you," continued the soldier, " I may 
 some day, get a wife : I am wearying of this bachelor exist 
 ence and who knows what may happen ? " 
 
 " Who knows ? " echoed Lanky, philosophically. 
 
 " Therefore, I may give up the cottage for the time : the 
 bon pe"re and Charley are with Beatrice up there, and when 
 they wrote spoke highly of the lad, and wished to remain : 
 strange they have not written lately," added the soldier, his 
 clear eye looking toward the west. 
 
 " The mail ain't safe, sur." 
 
 " Yes : that accounts for it. Well, all this goes to ex 
 plain, Lanky, that I shall probably become an emperor and 
 then, I promise you this place as long as you want it, at a 
 nominal rent, to pay when you can to the bon pre. 
 Should he wish to return here, you must pack up and go, 
 bag and baggage : but don't fear, I will provide for you." 
 
 " Oh, Cap'n, you are mighty good to me 1 " said Lanky, 
 gratefully. 
 
 " Good to you ? parbku ! no retainer of mine shall ever 
 Buffer." 
 
 " Donsy '11 be delighted, sur." 
 
 " Parbleu ! I almost envy you your bride ! " laughed 
 the Captain ; " she is a charming little creature." 
 
 " Then she's so good, Cap'n." 
 
 " Yes, I don't doubt it." 
 
 " Are you goin' to get married, sur ? " 
 
 The Captain laughed. 
 
 " Doubtful 1 " he said. 
 
 " The lady '11 git the kindest sort o' husban," said Lan 
 ky, with grateful sincerity. 
 
 " Now, sir, you flatter me 1 " 
 
 " Oh no, sur." 
 
 " You say the lady. 
 
 " Yes, sur 1 " said Lanky ; " the finest lady in the land 
 needn't be 'shamed to marry you, sur 1 " 
 
 " Why, dear Lanky, perpend I You are as good aa I 
 Ma." 
 
 M Oh, Cap'n 1 "
 
 UTOPIAN DREAMS. 18? 
 
 " All honest men are worthy ; and, morlleu ! I think 
 Donsy will have in you a better husband than she would 
 find in me. 1 am a roving soldier, clattering along, always 
 ready for the field, morbleu ! and impatient of control : while 
 you you are a most respectable looking citizen, with that 
 splendid pine-knot head, and see-saw movement. Basta ! 
 you will become a squire ; but who comes here? two horse 
 men at the door ! Diable ! see to them ! " 
 
 And Captain Ralph rose. In fact, two gentlemen ha 
 reined in at his door: they now dismounted, and Lanky 
 holding their horses, with many bows, came toward the cot 
 tage door. 
 
 The Captain met them on the threshold. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 UTOPIAN DBEAM8. 
 
 HE who came first, was a man of about thirty, bmt looking 
 much older. In his keen eye could easily be discovered the 
 strong and excitable character of his intellect : across his 
 high forehead extended the lines of incessant, brooding, 
 anxious thought : around his grim mouth, were two semi 
 circular furrows, which gave a rigid and iron-like expression 
 to the whole lower portion of his face. Captain Ralph 
 needed but a glance at this man, who was clad in a suit of 
 plum-color, with silk stockings, and who wrapped himself in 
 an old red cloak, to perceive that he was in the presence of 
 one of those born leaders, who burn up, with the fires of their 
 genius, all that opposes itself to them. 
 
 His companion was taller, and carried himself with ele 
 gant simplicity. His eye was mild and benevolent the 
 features comely, and full of character his head covered 
 with a curling flaxen wig, and his dress plain, but rich. 
 
 The man in the red cloak came forward, and made a curt 
 ducking movement with his head, and extended his hand. 
 The captain grasped it hospitably, and then, in the same 
 manner shook hands with his smiling companion, whose 
 greeting was very plain and courteous.
 
 188 UTOPIAN DRBADtS. 
 
 "Gail Mr. Charles Waters have gone elsewhere to live?* 
 said the man in the red cloak, sitting down, and speaking in 
 a strong, rough voice of sincerity and open plainness, " I 
 came to visit him, sir." 
 
 " My brother iny name is Ralph Waters, sir, a captain 
 in his Majesty's Prussian corps, formerly," explained the 
 soldier ; " my brother is now residing in the mountains, and 
 will regret not seeing you." 
 
 " Yes," said the man in the red cloak, " we are oW 
 friends." 
 
 The other visitor had, meanwhile, taken his seat in a 
 corner, and with a courteous, " Will you permit me, sir ? " 
 to Captain Ralph, in his clear, silvery voice, had betaken 
 himself to perusing a legal record. " I trust the urgency of 
 my business will excuse this seeming discourtesy, sir," he 
 added, " I am much pressed for time in a very important 
 case." 
 
 And soon his smiling face was buried in his record. 
 
 The Captain turned again to the man in the red cloak. 
 
 " I think we have had the pleasure of meeting at the 
 Raleigh tavern, formerly, man ami ! " he said, " pray were 
 you not there in the autumn of '63 ? " 
 
 " Yes," said his visitor, " and I now recollect you." 
 
 " Charley has spoken of you frequently ; and even has 
 used some very extravagant terms in praise of your acute 
 and vigorous intellect." 
 
 The stranger smiled grimly : the circles around his 
 mouth growing deeper. 
 
 " Did he ? " he said. 
 
 " Morbleu ! yes ! he was quite extravagant though ob 
 serve, companion, I do not say that he was too much so.' 
 
 " You are complimentary." 
 
 " I never compliment." 
 
 " Well, sir, I will then return you my own opinion of 
 Mr. Waters. I found him one of those clear, vigorous 
 minds, which carry all before them in debate, in thought, 
 in battle, whether that battle be of words, or of swords. He 
 will harden into an intellectual giant. I tested him." 
 
 " Ah, you have a keen eyel" said Captain Ralph, twirl 
 ing his moustache, " you are, peradventure, some sorcerer 
 who can read men's minds by merely looking at them."
 
 trroriAN DREAMS. 189 
 
 11 In a degree, sir." 
 
 " And when you hear them talk," continued the Captain 
 laughing, " what then ? " 
 
 " I have found out as much of them as I need." 
 
 " Diable ! 'tis a great talent. Say, now, what do you 
 find in me, sir? for you have both seen me, and hear me 
 talking now." 
 
 " I do not pretend to sorcery, Captain Waters," said the 
 stranger, in his strong, rough voice, " but I think I can 
 divine your character, without much difficulty." 
 
 " Ah, well ! speak then, sir : I assure you, you interest 
 me greatly." 
 
 " You are frank, sir." 
 
 " Ah, morbleu! I believe I am." 
 
 " Perfectly sincere." 
 
 Thanks, thanks I " 
 
 " And you would strike in a good cause with that sword 
 upon the table, until it fell from your hand." 
 
 "Ma fail so I would." 
 
 " Well, sir, I read that very clearly in your face in 
 your eye in your lip ; for they are all full of martial fire 
 and frankness. Beyond this, I cannot speak : but I saw 
 more in your brother, for I knew him longer." 
 
 " Ah ! well, speak now of him ! " 
 
 " Willingly ; it gives me pleasure : for I found in that 
 young man, sir, the mind I had been looking for to help me 
 in the work which I see before me. I gauged him from the 
 first, and my object from that moment was, to dive into the 
 depths of his soul, to study line by line, joint by joint, ar 
 ticulation after articulation, the character of his genius. We 
 went to the root of government he taught me : I com 
 menced by laughing I ended by feeling the flood in my 
 eyes as he spoke. I studied that young man, and I think I 
 understood him." 
 
 " Why he is as open and transparent as the day : your 
 study was thrown away, it seems to me, man ami ! " 
 
 " No, sir: and the proof is that I wished to talk farther 
 with him, for which reason I came by with .my friend from 
 Caroline. No, sir, you are mistaken ; that young man ia 
 not transparent, or, if so, 'tis the transparency of the tropical 
 seas, where the eye oierces hundreds of feet, to the far
 
 190 JTOPIAN DREAMS. 
 
 depths which seem rery calm, till the wind lashea them to 
 fury. There is the man in that illustration, sir," said the 
 stranger, drawing his old red cloak about him, and appearing 
 to take a peculiar delight in speaking of Charles Waters, 
 " very calm, very pure, very simple and limpid, so to speak : 
 but once roused, I fancy he would be more dangerous than 
 the most furious as the calm sea, lashed by the wind, be 
 comes more fatal than the noisiest brook. His weakness 
 however, in one point, was great in his heart. That is too 
 soft and easy : it will interfere with him in the struggle, I 
 foresee. But the intellect, the reason, ah ! sir, that is so 
 powerful in its humility, so strong in its weakness, that I 
 predict it will grow up gigantic, if God spares him for 
 twenty years. At present excuse me, sir, but I find a 
 strange pleasure in speaking of that man at present, his 
 mind is in the transition state : he is too full of love for 
 humanity, not to say it profanely ; he wants hardness : his 
 ideas are too grand, he cannot bend them down to common 
 things wholly he cannot mount step by step upon that lad 
 der which reaches to the sky he would soar. As a proof 
 of this I have but to mention his political theory : will you 
 listen, sir ? " 
 
 " Parbleu ! I am delighted to hear you talk," cried the 
 Captain, " and yours is a face, mon ami, which promises 
 ideas." 
 
 The stranger smiled grimly. 
 
 " I am only a poor member of the House of Burgesses," 
 he said, " but let me tell you one of Charles Waters's grand 
 ideas ; those grand ideas, as I said, are his weakness. He 
 commences by saying that the present bond with England 
 cannot last " 
 
 " The devil I " are you sure of that, companion ? " 
 
 " Perfectly sir, but to continue. Next, Mr. Water* 
 uses the word Republic." 
 
 " A grand word, but " 
 
 And the Captain shook his head. 
 
 " Next, while I listen attentively, he begins to speak of 
 that republic, and his scheme is, that the free white people 
 who have reached their majority, should wield all power." 
 
 " I doubt the feasibility of that," said the Captain. 
 
 " Next," continued the stranger, ' ae explains the re-
 
 UTOPIAN DREAMS. .ii 
 
 public which he imagines. Follow me now, sir that is his 
 idea. The people shall elect the sheriffs, the clerks of courts, 
 the justices, the burgesses, even the governor of the State." 
 
 The Captain again shook his head doubtfully. 
 
 " That is not all," said the stranger, " he has gone further. 
 Virginia, he assumes, will not be the only colony which 
 will cast off the chains. All the rest will follow all as far 
 north as Massachusetts, which will arm its very slaves against 
 England. Then, sir for with his grand confidence, he as 
 sumes our success in the struggle then he has arranged 
 what he styles the federation of the colonies, in the shape of 
 a league offensive and defensive, to be known as one nation, 
 as the ' Federated Colonies,' or the ' United States,' or by 
 some other name which shall denote the terms of the com 
 pact. And now mark the conclusion of his scheme. Having 
 made all offices and dignities spring from the people in this 
 colony of Virginia, he says that the officers of this federated 
 government should also be elected by votes. He would have 
 a great supreme justice of the peace, to be called a protector 
 or president ; a great senate, and a lower house, also elected 
 by the people ; a great national court, also elected by the 
 people ; one grand national organization, partaking of the 
 character of an empire, and a league of sovereign countries. 
 His Utopia is complete, perfect, not a rod or a wheel want 
 ing in the machine, not a flaw iu the work ; it is only a pity 
 that 'tis but a Utopia, for of course such a monstrosity can 
 never exist." 
 
 The stranger paused a moment, then added : 
 
 " This is one of the grand weaknesses of Mr. Waters 
 which I mentioned, sir ; those splendid Utopian ideas which 
 will disappear as his intellect matures, leaving it all steel. 
 But I have even respect for his fallacies, for they spring from 
 a man of trained intellect, and impassioned, political genius. 
 Y"es, sir, from a brain of rare fertility, and power, and 
 strength, for it is humble ; from a soul that goes up to the 
 upper air, and looks down calmly above the mist and rain. 
 The hours spent with him impressed me so profoundly, thai 
 I have come hither to say to him, ' Now is the time, sir 
 this is the crisis you promised to assist me keep that 
 promise.' " 
 
 w To what do you refer ? "said the Captain," to politics ? "
 
 192 UTOPIAN DREAMS. 
 
 " Assuredly." 
 
 " The stamp act ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 <{ You believe it will pass ? " 
 
 :t I know it." 
 
 " And you count on Charles to render you assistance c 
 Borne description ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir, a great assistance." 
 
 The Captain shook his head ; the stranger's glance in 
 terrogated him. 
 
 " I very much fear you have forgotten the old maxim, 
 that where love enters, every thing else disappears," said tin 
 soldier. 
 
 " Love, sir ? " 
 
 " Charley's married." 
 
 The stranger reflected for a moment, and replied 
 
 " Well, sir, marriage makes a man stronger. One is not 
 a perfect citizen until he has given to society those hostages 
 of fortune, which Lord Bacon speaks of." 
 
 " I doubt much whether his mind is as full of political 
 ideas as formerly, man ami" said the Captain, " he has never 
 lived, he writes, until now." 
 
 The stranger reflected. 
 
 " He is in the grand mountains yonder, with a wife who, 
 morbleu ! has never had her equal ; he says the country is 
 a paradise, and that the world is dead to him." 
 
 The stranger shook his head. 
 
 " In one word, he is happy and contented, sir," said the 
 Captain. 
 
 The stranger uttered a sigh, which seemed to say, " all is 
 over then." 
 
 " I will send him any message, companion," said the 
 Captain, " or if you want a good arm for any active service, 
 why, for Charley's sake, my own is yours." 
 
 The stranger rose, shaking his head. 
 
 " I trust 'tis no disparagement to say, sir, that you cannot 
 supply his place," he said. '' When the time comes I know you 
 will be at your post, Captain Waters; but your brother is 
 different. You may think all this very strange, but I repeat 
 that I need all the lights to guide me on the dark path I shall 
 soon tread ; and this torch I came to seek cannot have its
 
 HOW THE PARSON CURSED THE CAPTAIN. 193 
 
 place supplied by another. I fear that 'tis gone from me 
 that I must go alone. I see many noble lights around me," 
 continued the stranger, with his high, calm look, and glancing 
 at the gentleman seated in the corner poring over his brief, 
 " but I do not think they will guide me as far as I wish to 
 go ; again sir, let me say that the impression made upon 
 me by Mr. Waters, must be my excuse for this strange 
 conversation." 
 
 " Not at all ! not all ! " said the Captain. " I am most 
 happy to hear Charley praised; and he will, I am sure, be 
 glad to hear of your visit." 
 
 " Well, sir," said the stranger, " when you write again 
 say that I remembered his words, ' If God decrees revolu 
 tion let it come I ' Say to him, that this decree of God has 
 gone forth ; that he is needed." 
 
 And bowing with his old, awkward bow, the man in the 
 red cloak, refusing to stay and sup, took his leave, followed by 
 his companion, who exchanged a cordial and smiling farewell 
 with the Captain. 
 
 In ten minutes they had disappeared in the direction of 
 Williamsburg. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 CAPTAIN RALPH WATERS was one of those men who have too 
 high a regard for themselves, not to keep their word in the 
 amplest and most perfect manner. Having promised Lanky 
 to arrange his matrimonial affairs if possible, he mounted 
 Selim on the morning after the visit of the strange man in 
 the red cloak, and set out for Williamsburg, via the Old 
 Field School. 
 
 It was one of those days in May Which drive away, by 
 simple force of their own brightness, every care and annoy- 
 a.ice. The sky was blue ; the streams ran merrily, spark 
 ling in the sun ; the woodland rustled gayly in the warm 
 spring breeze ; and far up in the clouds the lark made him 
 juif an invisible song, which filled the air with music..
 
 194 HOW THE PARSON CURSED THE CAPTAIN. 
 
 All nature seemed to be laughing and singing not the 
 streams, and skies, and birds alone the very flowers which 
 gemmed the glades and sunny hillocks, turned smiling faces 
 to the merry sun, and plainly knew that May the month of 
 flowers had come. 
 
 The soldier was not behindhand ; his mood did not clash 
 with the joyous season. Naturally, life was bright and joy 
 ous to him, with his strong, hearty senses, that drank in 
 brilliant colors rapturously, and took delight in pleasant 
 odors, and felt the world was happier for the singing birds. 
 And not to neglect his own duty, he added his own joyous 
 " tirra-lirra ! " to the concert ; in so loud and hearty a voice, 
 that the oriole who was shaking his trills down on the blue 
 air from a lofty pine, paused with a pleased surprise, and 
 listened. 
 
 Thus the Captain drew near the school-house and slowly 
 approached the door. 
 
 " Ah 1 not a palace of education like the European 
 Academies," he said, " and even not quite equal to ' William 
 ind Mary' in the town yonder. But morbleu ! 'tis not on 
 that account to be despised. It seems to me that there is 
 4 large amount of excellent information to be acquired in 
 these log houses, even though the source of the stream be 
 tnuddy as it is here. I have a notion that the Colony of 
 Virginia will some day turn out a number of distinguished 
 men, at least it is probable ; and then the Old Field School 
 will be rendered honorable, as the forest lyceum where the 
 young patriots drank in their first ideas. A man gets a 
 better knowledge of life in these places, ma foi 1 with the birds 
 singing, the trees rustling, the sun dancing along them : 
 they look free ! In the old world all is battered up between 
 hot brick walls, in crowded thoroughfares. The only mis 
 fortune is that 1 got neither one or the other." 
 
 And as if in defiance of the agency of fate in this par 
 ticular, Captain Ralph began singing lustily his song again, 
 and ended with a loud " tra la i tra la ! " that shook the 
 forest. 
 
 This song attracted to the open window of the school- 
 house a number of faces, among the rest that of Miss Donsy 
 Smith. Without dismounting the Captain approached and 
 touched his hat gallantly.
 
 HOW THE PARSON CUKSED .HE CAPTAIN. 196 
 
 " Ah, Miss Donsy ! delighted to see you," he said, " do 
 you know me ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir," said Donsy, blushing, for the Captain's laugh 
 ing eye very plainly said, "I know all." 
 
 " Well, Miss Donsy," said the soldier, lowering his voice 
 as he leaned down to Donsy, who bent her head through the 
 window, " Lanky has been making a clean breast of it ! " 
 
 And he laughed. Donsy blushed crimson and was silent, 
 
 " 'Tis a bon gar$on" continued the Captain, restraining 
 his hilarity, " and he will make an excellent husband. I 
 have promised him to go and see your respected father, 
 mam 'se lie, and I thought I would call by and gather 
 strength for the attack from your bright eyes. Ah ! I think 
 Lanky is very fortunate, parbleu 1 " 
 
 " Oh, sir ! " said Donsy, with tears in her eyes, " he is so 
 good you know I am not good enough for him." 
 
 The Captain admired the fresh, sincere face, the earnest 
 voice, and said, laughing : 
 
 " Diable ! I think then that all is arranged, if you have 
 such a mutual liking. As for Lanky, he is dying for you, 
 Mam'selle Donsy ; and I really begin to think that I should 
 acquiesce in the old saying, ' love conquers all things,' and 
 leave you and Lanky to fight it out, morbleu ! " 
 
 And the Captain again burst into laughter. Donsy only 
 blushed more deeply still, and gave him a look which said 
 "Please see my father and ask him to consent; I never 
 could speak of it to him." 
 
 " Well, well," said the Captain,twirling his moustache, " I 
 will go on then in my course and do my best : but really I 
 think the shortest way will be to whisk you through this 
 window, carry you off to my robber strong-hold, capture the 
 parson, your pedagogue, and force him to tie the nuptial 
 knot at a word. How would the venerable man look, think 
 you, seated behind me, jolted up and down as I galloped ? 
 Faith ! he would make a picture ! " 
 
 And, enamored of his own fancy, Captain Waters burst 
 into a roar of laughter. 
 
 " Who are you talking with there, Donsy Smith 1 " cried 
 pompous and severe voice suddenly from the interior. 
 
 The Captain put his head through the window. 
 
 " With roe, parbleu 1 " h,e said..
 
 196 HOW THE PARSON Cl RSED THE CAPTA N. 
 
 The parson, who was seated in state upon Lis rostrum^ 
 hearing a class recite and occasionally ferruling the delin 
 quents, started back as the martial head, with its long black 
 moustache, sparkling eyes and brilliant smile, appeared. Be 
 hind this warlike visage, surmounted by its Flanders hat 
 with its dark feather, was seen the fine spirited head and 
 flowing mane of the Arabian. The appearance of this vision 
 nearly took the parson's breath away, and he murmured : 
 
 " Vade retro sathanas ! " 
 
 " Ah, your reverence 1 bon jour ! " cried the Captain 
 laughing. 
 
 " Good day, sir," muttered the unwilling parson. 
 
 " I trust your reverence is well to day ; charming weath 
 er and a charming sight to see you sitting there teaching 
 the young idea, instead of, as you formerly were in the habit 
 of doing, following the tuck of the drum, behind some war 
 like captain." 
 
 " Anathema ! " observed the parson, who, afraid to 
 vituperate in English, selected the Latin language for that 
 purpose. 
 
 " Ah ? " inquired the Captain politely. 
 
 "Nothing, sir." 
 
 " I am going to town, your eminence, any commands ? " 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 " I trust your reverence has not had an indigestion ; you 
 look badly sour, if I may say so." 
 
 " I am reasonably well, sir." 
 
 " Delighted to hear it ; you would be a loss to the parish." 
 
 And the Captain turned again to Donsy, whose fresh faoo 
 was not many inches from his own. 
 
 " Well," he said, " I am going." 
 
 " Thank'ee, sir," murmured Donsy. 
 
 " I will do my best, morbleu ! " 
 
 " I am sure you will," said Donsy, in the same low 
 grateful voice. 
 
 " I have promised Lanky the cottage we live in.' 
 
 " Oh, sir ! " said Donsy, looking at the soldier gracefully 
 * you are very kind." 
 
 " Not in the least." 
 
 " Indeed you are, sir. 
 
 " No I expect to bo paid?"
 
 LANKY A NOBLEMAN IN DISGUISE. 197 
 
 "Paid, sir?" 
 
 " Do you think I intend to neglect my business to go 
 gadding for you and Lanky, ma'mselle, to say nothing of 
 giving up my mansion to you, without any reward ? " 
 
 " Your reward, sir ? " murmured Donsy. 
 
 " Yes : do you refuse it ? " 
 
 " What can it be, sir ? " 
 
 " Answer do you refuse ? " 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 " Very well, then, I will exact payment in advance ! " 
 said the Captain, with his joyous and loud laughter. 
 
 And bending down he brushed the girl's cheek with his 
 huge moustache, which caused that portion of Donsy's face to 
 turn the color of her lips which were crimson. 
 
 The parson saw all, and rose up, brandishing his ferrule 
 and muttering an unmistakable " Sacre ! " 
 
 " Take care, your eminence, I understand French ! " cried 
 the Captain, " objurgate me in Latin, not in the Francois I " 
 
 And before the parson could reply, the head exchanged 
 a confidential look with Donsy, and disappeared. In five 
 minutes the forest again resounded with the " tirra lirra ! '' 
 which slowly died away in the direction of the town of 
 Williamsburg. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 HOW THE CAPTAIN PROVED THAT LANKY WAS A GREAT NOBLEMAN 
 IN DISGUISE. 
 
 THE Captain continued his way, quickly forgetting this little 
 incident, and soon reached the town and the shop of Mr. A. 
 Z. Smith 
 
 In this history, which aims at presenting in a brief and 
 rapid manner, some view, however slight, of the various 
 classes of individuals who formed that Virginia of 1765, it 
 would be unjust to wholly omit, after touching upon the 
 peculiarities of the Crows and Lankys, all nrention of the 
 factors as they were then called. These men were the agents 
 of English merchants, and their business was to arrange the 
 shipping of tobacco from the various wharves; to negotiate for
 
 198 HOW THE CAPTAIN PROVED 
 
 its purchase in London or Liverpool ; and to receive and 
 transmit to the planters the price received for the great staple 
 They willingly undertook, also, to attend to any commissions 
 for goods from England : and the planter had only to deposit 
 with his factor the measure of his person, the size of his 
 extremities, and the style of garments he wanted, to ensure 
 a suit from London direct, by the best maker. The factor 
 did all this, and more, for a very small percentage. 
 
 The factors were of the opinion, for the most part, tha 
 life was an agreeable institution, the chief end of which was 
 to make money throughout the week, and on Saturday finish 
 the week with a carouse around a bowl of punch or lamb'a 
 wool : they practised this habit at least ; and one of the 
 most zealous advocates of this mode of life was Mr. A. Z. 
 Smith, who, as we have seen, kept a small shop on Glou 
 cester-street, not far from the " Raleigh." 
 
 Without further digression for this worthy will scarcely 
 reappear in our history we shall proceed to follow the 
 Captain. 
 
 He drew up before the door of the shop, and Mr. A. Z. 
 Smith made his appearance, smiling and rosy as usual. The 
 attrition of the lamb's wool seemed to have made his coun 
 tenance red ; and its owner at the same time very good- 
 humored. Smith took the Captain's outstretched hand with 
 the air of a man who feels himself greatly honored. 
 
 " Ah, Captain, you do me a great pleasure really now," 
 he said, with that polite air he had caught from the noble 
 aristocracy. 
 
 " Basta ! " said the Captain, hitching his horse to a rack 
 before the door ; " don't make me talk until I have tasted 
 your Jamaica. I'm as thirsty as a leviathan, seigneur bour- 
 geoise." 
 
 The factor smiled, as a man smiles when rosy visions rise 
 in his mind. 
 
 " Come in, come in, Captain," he said. 
 
 And they entered the shop. 
 
 It was very small, and the goods for sale were of the 
 simplest description. Onions hung in strings from the 
 rafters flitches of bacon kept them in countenance buckets 
 and tin pans and whips were suspended in graceful and 
 artistic relief. On the small iounter stood open boxes of
 
 LANKY A NOBLEMAN IN DISGUISE. 199 
 
 tobacco, and a number of household utensils; and beside 
 these smirked the round face of a single shopman. Behind 
 the shop was a small private room and this was the real 
 counting-house where Mr. A. Z. Smith received his noble 
 visitors, and where a huge safe and pile of ledgers testified 
 to his usefulness in the community, and his well-to-do condi 
 tion in life. 
 
 To this private room he led the Captain, smiling ; and 
 from a secret receptacle under his desk drew out a flat black 
 flask, which contained his favorite Jamaica, which was ex 
 cellent. He placed this before the Captain, with some 
 glasses ; gave his visitor the seat of honor, and without 
 solicitation drank to his excellent good health. 
 
 If the factor was rosy and cheerful, Captain Ralph was 
 moody and dispirited. He shook his head, after the first sip 
 of rum, and almost groaned 
 
 " You are not unwell, Captain ? " said Mr. A. Z. Smith. 
 
 " Yes, yes," murmured the soldier. 
 
 " You are sick ? " 
 
 " Mentally so, my dear fellow I feel a sentiment of 
 great remorse." 
 
 " Remorse, Captain ? " 
 
 " Yes, my dear companion, real remorse, and you have 
 something to do with it." 
 
 "I. Captain?" 
 
 ** Yes, indeed ; your rum has caused it." 
 My rum ? " 
 
 " es, yes ; do you not remember my visit the other 
 day ? " 
 
 " In your splendid new chariot, Captain ? Oh, yes 1 It 
 would not be easy to forget it ; it is one of the finest in the 
 colonj " 
 
 " Delighted that you are pleased. "Well, on that occa 
 sion I drank some of thi? Jamaica." 
 
 "Yes, Captain." 
 
 " Well, companion, now listen to the enormity I have 
 been guilty of. I went home, sir, after drinking some of 
 this nectar yes, this liquid ambrosia, and like an ill-hu 
 mored fellow called it what do you imagine ? " 
 
 " Not bad, Captain ? " said Mr. A. Z. Smith, tuning 
 pale ; " not bad ? "
 
 200 HOW THE CAPTAIN PROVED 
 
 "I called it execrable, a much worse word than .ad, 
 mon ami." 
 
 And the soldier groaned. 
 
 " Never mind, sir," said Mr. A. Z. Smith, affected pro 
 foundly by the Captain's painful feeling of remorse ; " neve* 
 mind, sir, you have changed your opinion ; have you not ? " 
 
 The Captain swallowed a mouthful, and looked raptu 
 rously at the ceiling. That was enough no reply was needed 
 that look said more than words. 
 
 " Let us speak upon more cheerful subjects," said the 
 Captain, sighing ; " I have just had the pleasure of seeing 
 your daughter Donsy, mon ami." 
 
 " Donsy, Captain ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes, at the Old Field School yonder. A chancing 
 little creature, ma foi ! " 
 
 " She's a good girl," said Mr. A. Z. Smith, with a cheer 
 ful look ; " the light of the house." 
 
 " And that made me hesitate, comrade," said the Cap 
 tain, " before visiting you to-day." 
 
 " Hesitate?" 
 
 " Yes, indeed ; you would be loth to part with her, I 
 know." 
 
 " To part with her ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "With Donsy?" 
 
 " Yes, yes, companion." 
 
 " I do not understand you, Captain,' said hie host, 
 smiling. 
 
 " I had some idea lately of asking Miss Donsy's hand." 
 
 " Oh, captain a great honor ! " 
 
 " Honor ? Bah ! I say, sir, that the man who gets 
 Ma'mselle Donsy will be fortunate." 
 
 '* Indeed he will, sir ; I have not been twenty years at 
 work without laying by a plum." 
 
 " There you are, with your eternal commercial ideas." 
 
 " Oh, sir," said Mr. A. Z. Smith, afraid that he had com 
 mitted something in bad taste than which nothing horrified 
 him more. 
 
 " You think I mean ' fortunate ' in a pecuniary sense. 
 You cannot understand the divine sentiment, morbleu 1 
 really, friend Smith, I am ashamed of you 1 "
 
 LANKY A NOBLEMAN IN DISGUISE 201 
 
 Mr. A. Z. Smith looked contrite and murmured an 
 apology. 
 
 " I thought of applying for Ma'mselle Donsy's hand 
 myself," replied the Captain, " but I am not at present in a 
 condition to marry her ; and besides, I am now aware of 
 the fact that ma'mselle's affections are engaged." 
 
 " Engaged, Captain ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir, she loves devotedly one of my best friends 
 morbleu ! a noble fellow." 
 
 " Oh Captain." 
 
 " A heart of gold a glorious boy you know him, or I 
 am mistaken." 
 
 " Who can it be, Captain ? " 
 
 " My friend Mr. Lugg." 
 
 The factor whistled. " What 1 Lanky 1 " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 The factor repeated that astounded noise with his lipi 
 and said : 
 
 " He a friend of yours ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " He a noble fellow ? " 
 
 " Nothing less, sir." 
 
 " He a heart of gold a gentleman your friend ? " 
 
 " Yes, he is all that." 
 
 " Why, Captain, he's a mere country bumpkin ; Donsy 
 shall never marry him by George, sir, she shall not speak 
 to him again." 
 
 " Friend Smith," said the Captain. 
 
 " Sir." 
 
 " You're a booby ; permit me to make that observation 
 to you in a friendly and appreciative spirit, and to tell you 
 that, considering the length of time you have been in this 
 wicked and woful world, you are no better than a child, 
 morbleu ! " 
 
 Mr. A. Z. Smith, instead of getting angry at this plain 
 and unmistakable charge, held down his- head. 
 
 '* Donsy shall not marry so much beneath her," he said 
 M that I am resolved on." 
 
 " Beneath her ? " 
 
 " Yes, Captain." 
 
 ** How is Lanky beneath Donsy ? "
 
 202 HOW THE CAPTAIN PROVED 
 
 " Why, he's as poor as a rat." 
 
 " He is no such thing." 
 
 " Why sir, he is a common farm-worker was with Mr 
 Waters, your relation, I suppose." 
 
 "Who, the bon pdre? Certainly, he is my relation," 
 gaid the Captain, with great good sense. 
 
 " Well, sir, how can you say Lanky is not poor ? He's 
 an honest fellow, I don't mind saying that, but I know that 
 he is as poor as a church mouse." 
 
 " I don't believe church mice are poor," observed the 
 Captain philosophically, " and if they were, I deny the appli 
 cation to Lanky." 
 
 " He not poor, sir ? Oh ! " 
 
 " Listen, man ami: I am rich. As rich as Croesus and 
 all the monarcbs of antiquity put together, from Sardanapa- 
 lus, king of some land or other, down to the present time. 
 I roll in wealth I don't know how to spend it. I can't find 
 an outlet for it I am painfully overburdened with gold and 
 land." 
 
 " Oh, my dear sir ! " cried Mr. A. Z. Smith, looking 
 respectfully at this gigantic proprietor. 
 
 " Now, observe : Lanky is my friend and I have taken 
 up the idea that he will be improved by marriage. I ques 
 tioned him he replied that he was exceedingly willing 
 having secured the affection of your daughter, Ma'mselle 
 Donsy." 
 
 " He 1 " cried Mr. A. Z. Smith. 
 
 " Yes, indeed Donsy is passionately in love with him 
 he with her I have determined to see them married." 
 
 " Never, Captain ! " 
 
 " Because he's poor, eh ? " 
 
 " He is not only that, but his family is not good," said 
 Mr. A. Z. Smith, with a self-satisfied air. 
 
 " His family ! " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Why, he came- over to Virginia his ancestors, I mean 
 with your noble forefather Captain John Smith, the Che 
 valier." 
 
 The factor reddened with delight : his highest ambition 
 was to be considered the descendant of the great soldier 
 and in fact half of his liking for Captain Waters, sprung
 
 LANKY A NOBLEMAN :ji msouisfc. 203 
 
 from the fact, that that gentleman bore no bad resemblance, 
 with his long black moustache, to the picture of Captain 
 Smith, hanging up in his counting-room. So that when his 
 visitor said that Lanky's family came over with the conquer 
 or that is to say, Captain lohn Smythe the factor replied 
 in a much calmer voice : 
 
 " Really, did they now, sir ? " 
 
 " Yes, indeed, mon ami," said his visitor ; " Lanky's fa 
 ther was the shield and mace-bearer of the Captain, and al 
 ways held his lance and helmet. He buckled the arms on 
 his charger the Captain allowing no one else to do it 
 when the worthy Smith ran a tilt with Sir Powhatan down 
 there upon the tournay ground near York." 
 
 Mr. A. Z. Smith looked dubious. 
 
 "Do you doubt it, sir?" said the Captain; "here is the 
 herald's coat of arms of the Lugg family. Here you will 
 see that they spring from the great family of the Lugdunen- 
 ses who formerly owned all London, for which reason that 
 place was called originally Lugdunum, Sir Ernanton Lug- 
 dunensius was the founder of the house, and the Chevalier 
 Villiers de Lugge was the one who came over with your an 
 cestor, companion he was first cousin to George Villiers, 
 Duke of Buckingham." 
 
 Mr. A. Z. Smith then saw the Captain unroll a parch 
 ment, and hold it before his dazzled eyes. 
 
 " What is that, sir ? " he murmured, overcome by the 
 prospect of having such a son-in-law. 
 
 " Why, the genealogical tree." 
 
 " Lanky's ? " 
 
 " To be sure." 
 
 " I can't read it, sir." 
 
 " No wonder, as it is written in Ara v tc done when 
 Captain Smith and Sir Villiers were together in Bessarabia 
 fighting the Turks. It is further continued by another hand 
 and you will observe that Lanky's immediate ancestor was 
 Selim Lugg, Esq." 
 
 Mr. A. Z. Smith, as was quite natural, failed to compre 
 hend the pedigree of the Arabian, and the Captain soon 
 rolled it up again. 
 
 " Now I have disposed of that," said the soldier ; " tb
 
 204 HOW THE CAPTAIN PROVED LANKY A NOBLEMAtf. 
 
 family is superior, or at least equal, to your own : and no* 
 sir, to speak of the money part." 
 
 " Oh, Captain Waters ! " said the little factor, with a 
 remonstrating gesture. 
 
 " Let me go on," continued the Captain. 
 
 "Well, sir." 
 
 " I have or I will put Lanky in possession of the cot 
 tage on the river yonder." 
 
 " A very good house, sir, and some few improvements 
 would make it elegant." 
 
 " Yes : and the land fifty acres is not bad." 
 
 " Excellent, sir ! " 
 
 " Lanky shall have all at his own terms and by heaven, 
 if ho wants a thousand pounds he shall have it." 
 
 " You are very liberal, Captain." 
 
 " Do you be, also." 
 
 " Hum ! " 
 
 " Give him Donsy, comrade." 
 
 " Oh I don't think we can spare her, Captain." 
 
 " Bah, you will not be separated, the cottage is a mere 
 step, companion." 
 
 Mr. A. Z. Smith was evidently struggling between two 
 opposing forces. 
 
 " Do you say he shall be set up in the cottage ? " at last 
 he said. 
 
 " Yes, morbleu ! " 
 
 " And he loves Donsy ? " 
 
 " Passionately, mafoi ! " 
 
 " And Donsy him ? " 
 
 " Donsy will have no one else in this world, companion. 
 The house of Smith will be extinct for she'll be an old 
 maid." 
 
 " It's hard to lose her ! " sighed the factor, who really 
 loved his daughter exceedingly. 
 
 " She will not be the same happy sort of sunbeam, com 
 panion," said the Captain ; " give your consent and make hei 
 happy. Come, now, and pledge your consent in a cup of this 
 delightful Jamaica, and your brave ancestor up there shall 
 witness the compact and if he could, I am sure he would 
 twirl his moustaches in the excess of his satifaction. 
 
 This double attack finished Mr. A. Z. Smith : his pride
 
 GRAND MUSTER OF THE CORNSTALK '-.EGIMENT. 25 
 
 in his Jamaica, his pride of family, and in addition his love 
 for his daughter had been brought in play, and he suc 
 cumbed. 
 
 " Well, he shall have her," he said ; " Lanky's a good 
 boy, and though Donsy might a' looked higher, he'll make 
 her a good husband." 
 
 And the factor sighed. 
 
 " That's well," said the Captain, rising ; " and I knew 
 you would place more stress on that honesty of Lanky, friend 
 Smith, than on this question of lineage, about which I have 
 been telling you the most unconscionable amount of lies. 
 Diablc ! sir, I honor you ! and I promise that you shall have 
 the commissions of my whole family and estate, when I have 
 the former now, ban jour, companion: I'll ^u see Lanky, 
 parbleu ! " 
 
 And the Captain set down his empty g>*ss of Jamaica, 
 and went out humming his old song. 
 
 In half an hour he had conquered his e-emy 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 GRAND MUSTER OF THE CORNSTALK REGIMENT. 
 
 INSTEAD of returning homeward, tho soldier determined to 
 proceed to the office of the ""Virginia Gazette," and pur 
 chase a number of that journal : and also stop a moment at 
 the Raleigh, and look to the condition of his horses there. 
 
 He rode into the yard and to the door of the huge stable, 
 which was much more capacious than that one at Beank- 
 some, where u a hundred steeds fed free in stall." The 
 stable of the Raleigh would have accommodated more still : 
 and at present it was quite full, the honorable the members 
 of the House of Burgesses beginning to arrive in attendance 
 on the opening of the House. Captain Ralph surveyed the 
 bustling throng of stable-boys and grooms with much plea 
 sure bent his neck into the stable and saw his four glossy 
 horses, delighting their souls with an abundant supply of 
 oats delivered a pistole into the hands of the hostler, with 
 the promise of another, if the appearance of the animali
 
 206 GRAND MUSTER OF THE CORNSTALK REGIMENT. 
 
 pleased him when he came again, and the promise furthel 
 that he would spit the said hostler with his sword if their 
 condition betrayed neglect : and after these agreeable and 
 cheerful ceremonies, bent his way to the Gazette office. 
 
 He rode up to the door and received his paper from an 
 urchin of inky hue, placed there to sell the journal at six 
 pence per copy, and then, turning Selim's head toward home 
 again, dropped the bridle on his neck, and went along, perus 
 ing the paper. 
 
 " ' Arrival of the Lucy} " he read ; " ' parliament stamp 
 act introduced speech of Colonel Barri opposing it ; minis 
 ters Townshend Grenville ; sums raised to be expended in 
 America ; post roads hum ! hum ! public sentiment in the 
 colonies exaggerated no real opposition hum ! hum ! " 
 Thus the Captain continued glancing over his journal, when 
 suddenly he heard a loud, shrill squeak, a rattling drum ; and 
 raising his eyes found himself opposite the " Raleigh " and 
 in the midst of a popular gathering. This gathering was of 
 every conceivable description of individuals but these indi 
 viduals were for the most part juvenile, and the negroes had 
 decidedly the preponderance. To describe the costumes of 
 these latter would require much more genius than we pos 
 sess. Hogarth, in a golden mood, might have succeeded; 
 but what pen can adequately portray an under tunic flutter 
 ing en arriere, after the manner of a flag ; what mere de 
 scription can paint a pair of unmentionables held up by one 
 suspender, made of leather, and worn at the knees in a man 
 ner painful and shocking to behold ? 
 
 It was a crowd of this description in the midst of which 
 Captain Ralph now found himself ; and which Selim pushed 
 his way through with the unimpressed air of a child of *he 
 desert whom nothing astonishes. 
 
 But the cause of the crowd V Ah ! that is worth seeing. 
 It is nothing less than a muster of the entire " Cornstalk 
 Regiment of Virginia Volunteers," Captain William Efling- 
 hain commanding. 
 
 The regiment are as picturesque as ever in costume and 
 equipment: they hold their heads up proudly, and shoul 
 der their guns, or the substitutes for guns, described formerly 
 with an air which says, " We are proud of ourselves, 
 our cause, and our commander j " they march on, in single
 
 ORAND MUSTER OP THE CORNSTA^i REGIMENT. 207 
 
 file, to the sound of a drum and fife, the former uttering an 
 incessant rattle the latter a deafening scream. 
 
 Captain William Effingham precedes the whole even 
 precedes the music ; and his head is bent backwards, with 
 proud satisfaction, as, sword in hand, and sugar loaf cap on 
 head, he marshals and directs his brave companions. 
 
 In front struggles a youthful gentleman, it is Mr. Bar- 
 kerville, the artist, under the weight of a tall pine sapling, 
 from which floats a silken banner, which utters a joyful 
 flapping noise when the wind strikes it, and causes the 
 great artist to reel and gasp. Upon this banner, which has 
 been presented to the Cornstalk regiment by Miss Kate Ef 
 fingham, of Effingham Hall, the work of whose fair hands it 
 is upon the banner is inscribed in letters of golden silk 
 the thrilling motto : 
 
 NO STAMP ACT 
 
 FOREVER ! 
 LIBERTY OR DEATH!!! 
 
 and whenever the youthful soldiers gaze upon it, they shout 
 tremendously, and utter wild hurrahs, and waver about in the 
 excess of their hot patriotism. 
 
 We have dismissed the bold musicians too briefly : let 
 us look at them. Is not the fifer an old acquaintance 
 His coat is much too large and long for him ; he wears a straw 
 hat innocent of rim, and much dilapidated ; he has bandy 
 legs, protruding lips, a woolly head ; he no longer possesses 
 any thing but the remnant of a shirt. It is Mr. Crow 
 Crow in his glory ; Crow rejoicing ; Crow patriotic, and full 
 of grand ideas, hostile to tyranny, especially to the Stamp 
 Act. This hostility causes him to surpass himself; his fife 
 utters cries of rage and triumph which are fatal to sur 
 rounding ears; his eyes dance like meteors; his cheeks 
 are puffed up to the size of squashes ; his rugged sleeves 
 are agitated ; and his gait is the mixture of a jump, a dance, 
 a hop, and a run, which we have once described. Mr. Crow 
 is at the summit of human felicity, and when he pauses in 
 his fifing, and, with a noble gesture, silences the drum which 
 one of his relations hag been promoted tp at his solicitation,,
 
 208 GRAND MUSTER OF THE CORNSTALK I.EGIMENT. 
 
 be takes off his ragged hat, and waving it, utters a " hoora I 
 drowning all the rest. 
 
 Captain Ralph, pausing at the door of the " Raleigh,' 
 saw the grand procession, with its following of ragged black 
 urchins, and vagrants of every description, sweep on. As he 
 was about to go onward again, laughing, toward home, he 
 heard a grave and strong voice beside him say : 
 
 " Give you good day, Captain Waters ; we are well met ! " 
 
 He turned, and saw the man in the red cloak, whose face 
 still wore the grim smile with which he had been gazing at 
 the Cornstalk soldiers. 
 
 " Ah ! bon compagnon ! " cried the hearty soldier, holding 
 out his hand ; " good morrow ! delighted to see you again." 
 
 " We meet, sir," said the stranger, whose face had resum 
 ed its rigid expression, " on an occasion which recalls the 
 topic of our conversation yesterday. Did you read that ban 
 ner ? " 
 
 " Yes, faith 1 ' No Stamp Act for ever,' meaning, I 
 suppose, eternal opposition to that measure ; then ' Liberty 
 or Death' ma foil that, at least, does not admit of a sup 
 position. It is grandly unmistakable." 
 
 '' You are right, sir," said the stranger, whose eyes again 
 seemed to grow full of his eternal predominant idea, and to 
 blaze so to speak with that idea ; " 'tis a grand senti 
 ment, and I assure you, sir, that this banner, boyish as it 
 seems, speaks the sentiment of the whole colony." 
 
 " Parbleu ! perhaps," said the soldier, dubiously. 
 
 " Who gave them their ideas, sir ? " continued the stran 
 ger. " Urchins do not read parliamentary debates and boil 
 over politically without some instigation. Their fathers, 
 sir ! Their fathers have spoken of that infamous measure 
 and see the indication of men's opinions in the actions of 
 boys." 
 
 The soldier nodded his head in sign of acquiescence. 
 
 " Those boys will be men soon," continued the stranger, 
 " and will wield vigorous swords ; that fife and drum will 
 yet sound on grander occasions, I predict." 
 
 Then, breaking off suddenly, the stranger said : 
 
 " Any news of Mr. Charles Waters, sir ? " 
 
 " No," said the Captain, " and egad ! I think the mails 
 ire no better than they should be. Bad, this, very bad,'
 
 GRAND MUSTEK OF THE CORNSTALK REGIMENT. 209 
 
 " I see the ' Gazette ' in your hand," said the stranger, 
 drawing his old cloak around him and smiling grimly ; " have 
 you not read how the proceeds of the Stamp Act are to be 
 applied to the improvement of the post roads ? But, sir," 
 he continued, " I detain you. When you write to Mr. 
 Waters, place at the bottom of your letter the words . 
 ' Come ! come ! you are wanted ! ' Now, sir. I must go to 
 pay a visit which I have promised to a young friend of 
 mine, named Jefferson, at the college a young man of much 
 promise, with a strong political genius. I want these sort 
 of men ; I wish to see their faces round me when I rouse 
 the storm ; I wish, above all, to have men like your brother 
 near me. Good day, sir." 
 
 And wrapping his old cloak around him closer still, spite 
 of the mild May morning, the stranger made his awkward 
 bow and disappeared in the crowd. The Captain looked 
 after him a moment, muttering, " an odd fish, that ! " and 
 then touched the Arabian with his heel. Selim went on 
 down Gloucester-street, and was soon out of the town. 
 
 Half a mile from the place, Captain Ralph discerned two 
 figures approaching across the fields ; they were a young 
 man and a girl, and, as they drew nearer, he recognized 
 Lanky and the mistress of his heart. The soldier smiled 
 as they came up, bowing to him. 
 
 Lanky hung upon his countenance ; taking hope or de 
 spair as the Captain smiled, or looked gloomy. We are 
 sorry to say the soldier amused himself with Lanky's anxiety 
 in this manner for some time, and he refused, for some mo 
 ments, to reply to Donsy's appealing glances. 
 
 At last he burst into a laugh, and cried : 
 
 " Morbleu ! 'tis easy to see that you foolish children are 
 in love. Basta 1 was there ever such a folly as you have 
 committed. You, Lanky, you villain, going and falling up 
 to your ears in love with a pair of blue eyes; and you, Miss 
 Donsy, with a pine-knot, surmounting a pair of striped 
 stockings. It is alarming ! But, not to keep you longer in 
 suspense, monsieur and ma'mselle, I have encountered the 
 enemy the parent of Phillis consents to an alliance between 
 his daughter and her Corydon ; in a single word, my dear 
 Miss Donsy, your father consents to your marriage." 
 
 And, before the enraptured Lanky could impress a kis|
 
 5210 MR. CROW TRIED FOR UNOFFICE3.-LIKE CONDUCT. 
 
 upon his sweetheart's cheek, Captain Ralph bent down and 
 relieved him of that trouble, after which, he rode on, laugh 
 ing and singing, toward home. 
 
 "Parbleul" muttered the Captain, as he rode along, 
 with his arms hanging down, " a good day's work for those 
 silly folks there, standing under the tree, still, by Jove I 
 she's in his arms ! Well, well ; if I am so good a strate 
 gist in another's cause, should I not make some headway in 
 my own ? " 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV 
 
 HOW MB. CROW WAS TRIED FOR UNOFFICER-LIKE CONDUCT, WITH 
 OTHER INCIDENTS OF A FOREST PICNIC. 
 
 " THIS is a wicked world," says the author of the MS., 
 " and, in his pilgrimage toward a better, man must meet 
 with many things to shock and anger him. But there are 
 many pleasant things to look upon as well. I think one of 
 the pleasantest sights in the world is the innocent joy of 
 children. It is not necessary that a man should grow old 
 before he can experience this feeling of happiness, at seeing 
 young persons enjoy themselves ; it is not necessary that the 
 head should grow white, the heart calm and philosophical, 
 the senses dulled to those delights which strong and excita 
 ble youth takes such delight in. No ; this feeling need not 
 await the annihilation of the fiercer passions, the dulling of 
 the heart, to come then merely as a forerunner of old age, 
 which takes children on the knee and sighs over them, and, 
 at the same instant, over that bright childhood which, in 
 them, rises up again before the grandsire's eyes. I hold 
 that man made of coarse and rude stuff, who does not feel 
 his heart stir with pleasure at the innocent laughter of a 
 cbild, who does not see in the child character some of that 
 primal light which streamed on Paradise, from the blue 
 heaven, yet undimmed by any cloud. Mr. William Shakes 
 peare has said, in his matchless writings, that the man who 
 has no music in his soul should not be trusted ; and far less 
 would I trust the man who did not find, in the gay prattig 
 f children, a music sweeter than the harp of
 
 HE. CROW TRIED FOR UNOFFICER-LIKE CONDUCT. 211 
 
 Thus does the worthy author of the manuscript, from 
 which we take these veracious events, discourse upon his 
 love for children, which, as the reader may have observed, 
 has elsewhere appeared in this history. The sentiments of 
 the worthy gentleman are very well in their way, but we 
 may be permitted to doubt the propriety of prefacing with 
 such grave reflections, an excursion of the Cornstalk regi 
 ment into the Effingham woods, for the purpose of holding 
 therein a picnic. Still, we have preserved this little para 
 graph of our respected chief, and, having accurately ./ran- 
 scribed it from the discolored manuscript, will proceed to 
 speak briefly of the festival. 
 
 Sure never morn dawned clearer than that Saturday 1 
 The very skies seemed rejoicing, and the birds were -jsi- 
 tively delirious with delight. The streams sang too, and 
 rattled the diamonds in their beds with ceaseless glee, and 
 jumped up to the boughs which drooped down toward them, 
 and ran laughing by. In the fields the colts gambolled for 
 joy, the sheep tossed their heads, the cattle bells were tink 
 ling, tinkling, tinkling, and playing without musical notes to 
 guide them, from mere improvisation merrier melodies 
 than any in Don Juan or the Barber of Seville. The merry 
 May was laughing everywhere, and, not to be outdone, the 
 members of the Cornstalk regiment, stretched under the 
 lofty trees in a glade of the forest, laughed louder still. 
 
 They had been marshalled before the portico of Effing- 
 ham Hall, by that noble commander, Captain William 
 Effingham, who made them a speech, as usual. In the midst 
 of this speech, he had found the attention of his auditors 
 grow distracted : and then Captain Effingham had perceived, 
 at a glauce, the cause of this movement. There issued from 
 the broad portal, a bevy of fair ladies very youthful and 
 at the head of them Miss Kate Effingham, whose face was 
 brighter than all the rest together. Miss Kate was clad in 
 a charming little dress of green, ana on her glossy curls was 
 perched a snow-white gipsey hat_ with fluttering ribbons 
 her companions, rosy- cheeked like herself, were quite aa 
 happy looking, and all brightened at their approach, for the 
 noble Cornstalk regiment was gallant and chivalric to the 
 echo. There was oiie gentleman who displayed a joy far 
 more extravagant than all the rest: Crow was his name, o,
 
 212 MR. CROW TRIED FOR UNOFFICER-LIKE CONDUCT. 
 
 noble lineage and ancient ancestry ; of undeserved misfor 
 tunes, yet a noble soul : in a word, one of that great class oi 
 poor gentlemen, of which Virginia has been proud always. 
 The joy of Mr. Crow may require explanation, for however 
 great his gallantry, that sentiment could not prompt the 
 enthusiastic somersets which he turned as the young maidens 
 issued forth. Behold the cause ! Behind them came a 
 young African, bearing upon his shoulders a huge hamper 
 a hamper which said plainly, " I am full of cakes, and pies, 
 and apples, and a thousand cates" which positively groaned 
 for very fulness which weighed the bearer down for very joy. 
 This made Mr. Crow rejoice : this filled him with sublime 
 anticipation this caused him to utter the shrill scream upon 
 his fife, which made the little maidens stop up their ears, 
 and shout with laughter. 
 
 And so they have reached the glade in the forest, and 
 played by the stream, and laughed and ran, and gathered 
 flowers, and held the yellow butter-cups beneath their chins, 
 and blown away the thistle-down with puffed up cheeks, and 
 ehased the striped ground-squirrels to their rocky nests ; and 
 played, and laughed, and danced, and sang, until the very 
 forests echoed with their joyous shouts, their merry carol, 
 their exuberant, overflowing, wild, delirious, childlike, merry, 
 gay and joyous mirth, delight, and ringing jubilant laughter. 
 
 Tommy Alston is there, and many other Toms, and 
 Roberts, Williams, Johns and Jacks; and numberless Fan 
 nys, Susans, Carrys, Ellens, Phosbes, Marys, and a Cynthia 
 to add her morn-like softness to the May. Mr. Alston and 
 Willie have forgotten their league offensive and defensive 
 against our poetical friend, the noble Earl of Dorset : they 
 are rivals : and they struggle for the privilege of waiting 
 upon Kate, and hunger for her smiles more than for any 
 hamper-smiles ; and gather flowers for her, and pick out apple 
 seed for her to name, and when the candy with its poetical 
 mottoes is produced, contend who shall bestow upon the little 
 beauty the verses most indicative of burning love, and ever 
 lasting, fond devotion. 
 
 For now the hour of noon has come, and they are stretch 
 ed upon a sunny bank, beneath a noble oak, whose leaves 
 but half shut out the sunlight ; and the jolly hamper site 
 upon a mossy rock, the centre of all eyes. They rifle it
 
 MR. OROW TRIED FOR UNOFF1CER-LIKE CONDUCT. 213 
 
 with joyous laughter taking out first a noble pie of birds 
 and fowl. They plunder this of its jellied contents, and with 
 out solicitation the young maidens eat away, very unlike the 
 heroines of romance. This does not lower them however in 
 the opinion of their Corydons, who also bid adieu, for the 
 moment, to romance, and plunge their pie-crusts into willing 
 mouths, and talk inarticulately for that reason. Then they 
 pass on to the sweet things, and the pie is generously aban 
 doned to Mr. Crow, and his relative who beats the drum 
 which useful instrument is hanging on a tree above them 
 Mr. Crow's mode of eating is not so elegant as we might 
 expect in a gentleman of such high birth, and with such 
 grand and noble political ideas. He takes the brown crock, 
 which contains the picturesque debris of the rifled pie, and 
 carrying it to some distance, deposits it upon the ground, and 
 then sits down, extending his lower members upon each side 
 of it. Thus fixed, he can look down rapturously into the 
 recesses of the crock, and plunge his fingers in without diffi 
 culty. He does this, and the rich savor causes his eyes to 
 roll like stars, his mouth to grin, his body to shake with 
 laughter. He sees approach, crawling, the disconsolate 
 young drummer, whose flag but we refrain : he perceives a 
 hand held out : he hears a beseeching voice but all these 
 things are unregarded. His rapturous eyes fixed on the trees 
 above, he does not deign to see. The drummer crawls up 
 to the pie with cautious movement ; he extends his hand 
 he grasps the finest morsel ho 1 the hand of Mr. Crow darts 
 between the eyes of Mr. Crow flash terrible lightning the 
 face of Mr. Crow is charged with fury, and a gloomy rage : 
 the unfortunate drummer must wait until there is no longer 
 any thing left but a morsel of crust and a little gravy. This 
 much is generously abandoned by Crow, who, having finished 
 his first course, arrives at the laughing group stretched near, 
 by a series of somersets. He reaches the group just as Kate, 
 who is laughing rapturously, is about to put a small lump of 
 French candy into her mouth. Here was the opening for 
 genius : he squats behind her ; he extends his hand ; the 
 candy disappears, and Mr. Crow's eyes roll with delight, and 
 his cheek protrudes like that of a monkey who has stolen a 
 Uickqry nut, and endeavored to conceal it in his mouth. 
 This feat of Mr. Crow is considered audacious by the
 
 2 1 4 ME. CROW TRIED FOR UNOFFICER-LIKE CONDUCT. 
 
 indignant gallants : they lay violent hands on that gentle 
 man : but they call a drum- head court-martial, at the request 
 of the delinquent. 
 
 The criminal is arraigned according to the the rules of 
 war : he is called upon for his defence by the uproarious 
 group. 
 
 This call is not unanswered : Crow mounts upon a fallen 
 tree : he looks around him with the air of a great orator : 
 he scrutinizes the features of the Court of Inquiry and cal 
 culates the chances of an acquittal : the chances are of an 
 azure hue. 
 
 Kate is called upon to testify, which she does laughing, 
 and to the effect that the prisoner is guilty. Crow endeavors 
 in vain to exclude the testimony, on the ground of incompe- 
 tency in the witness : his point is overruled by the court. 
 
 Other witnesses testify : the case is made out : he is 
 declared guilty, and then called upon to say why the sentence 
 and punishment should not follow. 
 
 Crow brightens at this : there is a last chance: and his 
 ideas are quickened to astonishing vigor by the sight of the 
 executioner trimming a grape vine. 
 
 He stretches out his hand persuasively : assumes a grave 
 and lofty attitude, and commences his defence. He bases it 
 upon three points : 
 
 I. He wanted the candy. 
 
 II. He liked the taste of it. 
 
 III. He did not take it. 
 
 He elaborates these points ; makes a tremendous speech ; 
 and winds up with a burst of eloquence which he fondly 
 hopes may avert the impending fate. In vain ; popular pre 
 judice has warped the members of the court ; he is declared 
 guilty of unofficer-like conduct ; he is unanimously sentenced 
 to receive the bastinado. 
 
 Crow writhes, struggles, beseeches ; in vain : he is tied 
 to a sapling with handkerchiefs, all the time uttering piercing 
 cries of anguish. He repents, he says : he do ; he calls upon 
 Miss Kate Eff'nam to intercede for him, but that young 
 lady's prayers are unavailing; the grape-vine is raised; 
 Crow makes himself as small as possible ; the instrument 01 
 torture is about to descend; the crowd laugh; the punish 
 ment for unofficer-like conduct is about to begin, when iud
 
 MR. CROW TRIED FOR UNOFFICER-LIKE CONDUCT. 2lf 
 
 denly Mr. Crow utters a loud exclamation, to the effect that . 
 " Ef there ain't Johnny Booker wid his old banjo ! " 
 
 All eyes are suddenly turned to the spot indicated by 
 Crow's outstretched hand, and there, indeed, is seen Mr. 
 Booker passing, with his banjo beneath is arm. Crow reaps 
 the reward of his presence of mind, for the crowd imme 
 diately rush towards Mr. Booker, and take him prisoner. 
 Mr Booker is a relative of the fiddler at the Hall, and lives 
 at the Bowling Green. He is as great a master on the banjo, 
 as his relative is upon the violin. His face is the color ot 
 ebony ; his eyes roll j his lips protrude ; a huge shirt collar 
 saws his ears. 
 
 He is good natured, and willingly consents to " rattle on 
 Lis banjo" in consideration of a portion of the feast. He 
 partakes of the remains of the hamper, assisted by Crow, 
 who has untied the handkerchiefs, and escaped ; between 
 them they dispose of all that is left ; then Mr. Booker tunes 
 his banjo and commences. 
 
 The party join hands and fly to the hilarious music around 
 the oak ; the forest is full of laughter ; the banjo player rolls 
 his eyes, sways about, pats his foot ; the air is wild with the 
 uproarious rumble, as the flying fingers dart across the strings. 
 By and by Mr. Booker becomes wild with delight at his 
 own performance ; he executes a pirouette over Crow, who 
 lying on the ground is rapturously imitating him with the assist 
 ance of a piece of fence rail ; he commences singing the song 
 which has brought his name and his dwelling-place down to 
 modern times, encircled by a halo of glory ; he plays so fast 
 that the furious dance runs over itself, mingles its perform 
 ances in inextricable confusion, and finally stops from pure 
 inability to proceed. 
 
 The young ladies, half reclining on the ground, pant and 
 laugh, and declare that they never before had such a dance. 
 Mr. Booker bows in appreciation of this compliment, places his 
 banjo under his arm, seizes a chicken's leg, and goes on his 
 way rejoicing. 
 
 As they are still laughing and panting, they see a stal 
 wart gentleman riding upon a beautiful horse ; and this gentle 
 man, who is singing and further amusing himself with twirling 
 his moustache, makes a most gallant salute with his hand. 
 Bate cries that it is Captain Waters, her friend and admim,
 
 Si 6 MORT-REYNARD'S REVENGE ON DON MOtSTACHlO. 
 
 and runs to shake hands with him, an infliction which the 
 laughing Captain submits to with great equanimity, after 
 which he disappears, singing. 
 
 Kate comes back and finds Willie furious ; she quarrels 
 with him. Will repents, and solicits the favor of a recon 
 ciliation, which is granted as soon as asked. Will, em 
 boldened by this, draws out his true love indenture, and 
 requests the favor of her signature. Kate laughs, and says 
 Willie is a goose ; and as Jemmy Alston at the same moment 
 requests a song from her, she strikes up merrily : 
 
 " Fm ower young to marry yet I " 
 
 and all are delighted with her arch eyes and laughing voice 
 even down to Crow, who turns somersets for joy. and makes 
 the forest echo with his stunning laughter, and his wild 
 " hooras ! " 
 
 Here let us leave the party as we found them laughing ; 
 and if the present history returns no more to that great 
 regiment with patriotic souls, and splendid banner, and im 
 mortal fife-player more than all the rest, the reader must 
 not think that we have been guilty of neglect. Considering 
 the number of personages whose fortunes we must finish 
 narrating, the great regiment has occupied space sufficient. 
 In some future history, we hope to chronicle its warlike 
 achievements, and heroic deeds ; especially the campaigns of 
 Mr. Crow, that great leader and fife-player of the Revolution. 
 
 At present, we must bid the Cornst&lk regiment, even 
 Mr. Crow, a long farewell 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV 
 
 THE SEIGNEUR MORT-RETNARD TAKES HIS REVENGE UPON DON 
 MOU8TACHIO. 
 
 WE shall follow Captain Ralph. 
 
 He was received by Mr. Lee with open arms, that gentle 
 man not having had for some days an opportunity to ex 
 change ideas with any one upon the various exciting political 
 topics which were beginning to agitate profoundly the minds
 
 ItOfet-REYNARD's REVENGE ON DON MOtJSTACHIO. 21? 
 
 f all men in the colony of Virginia. The soldier was an 
 excellent outlet for the flood of communication which had 
 been dammed up for some time, and the old gentleman took 
 exclusive possession of him the moment he appeared ; they 
 then talked uninterruptedly until dinner, when the Captain had 
 an opportunity for the first time to address a few observation* 
 to the young ladies, and to Mr. Jack Hamilton, who had 
 " just dropped in," as he expressed it, in passing. This 
 breathing space, however, did not last very long, and when 
 the stamp act, the navigation laws, and the meeting and 
 probable action of the House of Burgesses had been ex 
 hausted, Captain Ralph was called on to discuss the various 
 events of the seven years' war, and to illustrate those events 
 by diagrams drawn as before, upon the table with a drop of 
 wine. 
 
 The Captain escaped finally to the ladies in the parlor, 
 whither Mr. Jack Hamilton followed him, and he tried to 
 converse with Henrietta. But he found it for some reason 
 very difficult ; he could not extract from Miss Henrietta 
 much more than blushes and "yes's," and " no's," and he 
 finally gave up in despair, and took his leave with a decidedly 
 gloomy feeling. Looking as we do calmly upon the scene, 
 we may very easily discern the cause of Miss Henrietta's 
 blushes and constraint, of the soldier's consequent gloom. 
 For the first time, he had grown blind. 
 
 Mr. Jack Hamilton followed the soldier, and they rode on 
 together. The Captain endeavored to return to his habitual 
 good-humor, and after a time succeeded iu producing some 
 thing resembling a laugh. 
 
 " Ah, mon cher Seigneur Mort-Reynard ! " he said, " it 
 seems to me, that you are practising finely all those beauti 
 ful precepts which you enunciated in my hearing some days 
 since ? " 
 
 " What precepts, my dear Don ?" replied Mr. Hamilton. 
 
 " Why, your woman-avoiding doctrines." 
 
 " Hum 1 " said Mr. Hamilton 
 
 " It is really laughable," continued the soldier, " to ob- 
 Berve how great the difference is between the preaching and 
 practising of human beings in this wicked and sinful world. 
 Now here are you, my dear Mort-Reynard, uttering the grand 
 est and most philosophical sentiments sentiments which
 
 MORT-REYNARD'S REVENGE ON I>ON MotrsTActtlo. 
 
 eause your friends to regard you with a mixture of respect 
 and admiration, and basta ! no sooner are our backs turned 
 than you go, morbleu ! and practise just the reverse." 
 
 " Hum : you think so ? " observed Mr. Jack Hamilton, 
 1 you are very keen-eyed, Don Moustachio. Come, how have 
 I erred?" 
 
 " How ! " 
 
 " Yes, indeed." 
 
 " Are you not making desperate love to Miss Clare, par 
 bleu are you not going to change your bachelor condition ? 
 
 "Hum!" 
 
 " Answer ! " 
 
 " Well, if I did." 
 
 " Well, if you did, indeed ! Egad ! you will turn your 
 coat. Never have I heard such an enthusiastic tirade as 
 you uttered the other day. Oh, by heaven ! you would not 
 fall into the snare ! you would not be caught by a woman, a 
 pair of blue eyes, I think you said. We young and inexpe 
 rienced fellows might fall victims to the belle passion, but 
 you ? Not the Seigneur Mort-Reynard, whose days were to 
 be sacred to the pursuit of foxes, and to the disappointment 
 of all individuals of the divine sex who laid traps for the 
 Seigneur Jean Reynard Hamilton ! Ah, mon ami, you are 
 one more victim you are an unfortunate specimen of tho 
 trapped the bamboozled the defeated the circumvented ! 
 You will ever be to those who know you, parbleu ! a shining 
 instance of the fallacy of all human calculations, of the over 
 whelming powers of the sex of the truth of your own de 
 claration that when a woman has once determined to marry 
 a man he need not resist that there is no hope that he 
 might as well go to the altar, like a lamb to the slaughter ! " 
 
 And the Captain twirled his moustaches and laughed tri 
 umphantly. He did not see the twinkle of mischief in the 
 Seigneur Mort-Reynard's eye; he did not see the joyous 
 look, which indicated the power of revenging himself upon his 
 reviler. 
 
 " Well, well, my dear Don," said Mr. Hamilton, " I con- 
 fass there is something in what you say." 
 
 " You acknowledge it ? ' 
 
 " Yes, yes." 
 
 Poor fellow 1 "
 
 MORT-REYNARD'S REVENGE ON DON MOUSTACHIO. 2l 
 
 " True, I am very unfortunate, but how could I resist 
 such a pair of eyes ? " said Mr. Jack Hamilton, plaintively. 
 
 " Quite right," replied the Captain, " they are much too 
 blue and bright." 
 
 " Yes, yes." 
 
 " Your favorite color." 
 
 " Precisely." 
 
 And Mr. Hamilton sighed. 
 
 " Don't take it too much to heart, man cher^ said the 
 Captain, still laughing, " many a stalwart fellow has suffered 
 the same misfortune." 
 
 " I know it, Captain." 
 
 " No one can resist." 
 
 " No one," said Mr. Jack Hamilton, disconsolately ; " and 
 even such a strong-hearted cavalier as yourself must not 
 think to entirely escape ; you have not, I think." 
 
 it" 
 
 Yes, indeed." 
 
 " You think I am trapped ? " 
 
 " I do, indeed." 
 
 " Madam Henrietta, you mean, perhaps 1 " 
 
 " Yes, my dear friend." 
 
 " Hum, hum ! " said the Captain, in his turn. 
 
 " Do not understand me as blaming you for falling a vie 
 tim to her brilliant eyes," said Mr. Hamilton, " it is quite 
 natural. " 
 
 " It would be, I confess," said the Captain, cautiously. 
 
 " Come, don't deny it." 
 
 " Deny what, mon cher ? " 
 
 " That you are over head and ears in love, my poor friend. 
 
 The Captain uttered a sonorous " hem 1 " and said : 
 
 " Really, you are, I think, mistaken." 
 
 No, indeed." 
 
 I in love ! " 
 
 " Yes, Don desperately profoundly ; and there is only 
 one thing in your condition which makes me sorry for it, aa 
 your friend. Her affections are engaged." 
 
 " Engaged 1 " cried the Captain, betraying by his down 
 ast countenance the secret he would conceal. 
 
 " Yes, indeed ! " 
 
 She engaged ? "
 
 220 MORT-REYNARD'S REVENGE ON BON MOUSTACHIO 
 
 " Her affect ions I said." 
 
 " Her affections ! " 
 
 " Why Don," said Mr. Hamilton, " you must be blini 
 Have you not observed Mr. Effingham's attentions ? " 
 
 " Mr. Effingham!" 
 
 " And the manner in which she receives them ? " 
 
 " No," said the Captain, moodily ; and too much cast down 
 to observe the twinkle of triumphant mischief in his com 
 panion's eye. 
 
 " Why then you must be high gravel blind." 
 
 " Diable ! " cried the Captain, to Mr. Hamilton's great 
 delight. 
 
 " You see therefore your chances are not so good as you 
 thought." 
 
 " Hum ! " said the Captain, measuring himself in thought 
 against his rival. 
 
 " Effingham is her cousin, and you know cousins are pro 
 verbially dangerous." 
 
 The Captain made no reply, preserving a gloomy silence. 
 
 " I thought I'd mention it," said his companion, in a 
 friendly and commiserating tone ; " for we have taken so 
 many foxhunts together, that I naturally feel an interest in 
 all that concerns you." 
 
 " Effingham ! " muttered the Captain, buried in thought. 
 
 " Yes, yes ; I say again you really must be blind you 
 cannot see." 
 
 " This troubles me, Hamilton," said the Captain ; " and 
 I don't mind telling you that I do admire Miss Henrietta." 
 
 "Right! perfectly right!" replied Mr. Hamilton, shak 
 ing with triumphant laughter; for one of the greatest de 
 lights this worthy gentleman could experience was in the per 
 petration of what is called a practical joke. 
 
 " You are quite sure of what you say? " continued the 
 Captain, gloomily twirling his moustache. 
 
 " Sure ? can you ask ! " 
 
 " Morbleu ! 'tis too bad," said the soldier ; " I thought 
 Effingham was remarkable for staying away from the house." 
 
 " Ah ! a mistake, my friend ; you are not there every 
 day." 
 
 " True," replied the Captain, with the same gloomy look. 
 
 " Now, do not attribute," said Hamilton " to any bad
 
 MORT-REYNARD S REVENGE ON DON MOUSTACHlO. 22 . 
 
 feeling at your own bantering, this little piece of informa 
 tion. Of course I never deal in jokes of a practical nature 
 oh no, iny dear Don Moustachio utterly impossible with 
 my frank and unsophisticated nature." 
 
 And Mr. Jack Hamilton smiled with irony and tri 
 umph. 
 
 The Captain continued to think gloomily over what his 
 companion had just said, and they rode on in silence. 
 
 Hamilton could scarcely contain his laughter ; and once 
 or twice was on the point of betraying himself. He felt 
 some remorse, too, and this also was near causing him to 
 inform the Captain that all this story was a mere effort of the 
 imagination. But suddenly he remembered more than one 
 joke of a practical and horse-play nature which Don Mous 
 tachio had played at his expense, and his heart was again 
 hardened. He determined to leave his companion in igno 
 rance for two or three days at least; then have a party at 
 the Trap ; relate the Captain's jokes at himself, and then de 
 tail his revenge. 
 
 They reached in silence the opening of the road which 
 led from the main highway into Effingham Hall. Hamilton 
 drew rein. 
 
 " I must go in here, my dear Don," he said ; " come and 
 see your rival." 
 
 " Thanks, sir," said the soldier, gloomily, " but no, I 
 prefer proceeding on my way." 
 
 Hamilton smiled. 
 
 " Ah, you are gravelled," he said. 
 
 " Not at all," said the Captain, frowning. 
 
 " You are angry." 
 
 " Morbleu, not at all 1 " said Captain Ralph, looking 
 jers. 
 
 "Well, that is right! " said his friend, ready to explode 
 with pent-up laughter ; " don't suffer these little trifles to 
 disturb your equanimity. You are a bold cavalier, my dear 
 Don, and I should feel a dreadful amount of trepidation 
 were you my rival had you selected in place of Miss Hen 
 rietta well, well, we will not speak of that. Do not think 
 that I bear you any grudge, and have been jesting ; of 
 course I have not ; we are boon companions, jolly hearts, 
 lads of metal, sworn friends ; bear up ! Perhaps you
 
 222 SEIGNEUR MORT-REYttARD CATCHES A TARTAR. 
 
 stand some slight chance yet, and a powerful exertion of 
 your warlike strategy might possibly end in defeating the 
 enemy, who, however, I should tell you as a friend, is a 
 very dangerous antagonist. He is her cousin he is pale 
 and interesting he is a man whom a woman may both ad 
 mire and pity ; and you know very well, my dear Don, when 
 a woman experiences a sentiment of pity for a man what it 
 proverbially leads to ! Don't be cast down, however. Let 
 me see you in a day or two." 
 
 And shaking with laughter Mr. Jack Hamilton bowed to 
 his companion, who rode on moodily, and took his way toward 
 the Hall. When he had lost sight of the Captain, he uttered 
 a shout of laughter which made the wood echo again. He 
 had taken his revenge at a single blow ; and we shall see 
 what came of it." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 THE 8EIGNEUB MOKT-REYNARD CATCHES A TARTAR, 
 
 THE triumphant Mr. Hamilton went on laughing, as we have 
 described, toward Effingham Hall. He soon reached the 
 mansion, and tying his horse, walked in, whistling merrily ; 
 he seemed to be at peace with himself and all the world -to 
 be revelling in the quiet pleasure of a man who has an ex 
 cellent conscience, and has just overcome by pure force of 
 genius all opposed to him. 
 
 He found the front door open, and without ceremony en 
 tered, and proceeded to the library, where he did not doubt 
 he should find some one of the family. He was not mis 
 taken ; seated languidly by the window he saw Mr. Ef 
 fingham. 
 
 Mr. Effingham was looking out of the window, and so 
 profound was his gloomy reverie, that he was not aware of 
 the entrance of his visitor. His brow was even paler than 
 usual his lips were more weary his head drooped, and his 
 eyes were half closed and full of shadow. His posture, 
 too, was very indicative of his mood ; it betrayed languor, 
 indifference, utter prostration of spirits. 
 
 Mr. Effingham was not aroused from his gloomy and
 
 SEIGNEUR MORT-REYNARD CATCHES A TARTAR. 223 
 
 absorbing thought until the fox-hunter laid his hand upon 
 his shoulder. 
 
 " Why Champ," he cried, " thinking eternally ? Really 
 you will get your blood in such a state with this keeping in 
 the house, that even running a fox won't set it going." 
 
 Mr. Effingham shrunk from the hand, and replied coldly : 
 
 " I am not very well." 
 
 " Not well ! " cried Hamilton ; " that's because you don't 
 ride out." 
 
 " No, it is not," said Mr. Effingham. 
 
 " I tell you it is," said Hamilton, who honestly believed 
 what he said. 
 
 " Well," replied Mr. Effingham, in the same cold and 
 calm voice, full of constraint, " have it as you will." 
 
 Hamilton was not quick at observing moods, and engaged 
 in contemplating a picture of the winning horse at the last 
 Derby races, which the squire had just received from Eng 
 land, did not pay much attention to his companion's accent. 
 
 " Ah, well 1 " he said at length, " perhaps not perhaps 
 you are really unwell, but what a splendid second thigh that 
 fellow's got, by George ! " 
 
 Mr. Effingham made no reply, gazing out of the window 
 again. Mr. Hamilton looked at him. 
 
 " Why, Champ, you really don't seem well to-day," he 
 said. 
 
 " I am not." 
 
 " You are brooding over something. By Jove 1 your 
 eyes are as deep and gloomy as Bob Ashell's after his losses 
 at the Jamestown races, where tnat consumed Kttle horse of 
 Waters' beat Sir Archy. Bob had bet heavily on Sir Archy, 
 and he cursed Captain Waters' racer from Dan to Beer- 
 sheba." 
 
 " Ah ? " -said Mr, Effingham. 
 
 " Yes, indeed ! and Howard said no less. They couldn't 
 deny that the Captain had complied with all the rules given 
 them a full trial of his horse before the races shown Se- 
 lim's pedigree, and all that; but it seems the Arabian didn't 
 begin running until the second heat on the race-day ; and 
 then you ought to have seen hin. By George 1 sir, he fairly 
 picked up the miles and tossed 'em behind him, and Waters
 
 224 SEIGNEUR MORT-REYNARD CATCHES A TARTAR. 
 
 might have got a thousand pounds for him after the third 
 heat." 
 
 " Indeed ? " said Mr. Effingham, with the same cold and 
 constrained air. 
 
 " Yes, indeed," continued Hamilton, carried away by his 
 mental contemplation of Selim, " but the Captain absolutely 
 declined where the devil does he get all his money ? and 
 prefers riding him. By Jove ! just think of a man's riding 
 a horse worth a thousand pounds every day 1 " 
 
 And Mr. Hamilton groaned at the Captain's extrava 
 gance. 
 
 " I have just left him," he continued, " and I ran a good 
 joke on him, which I'll tell you another time by George ! 
 it will make you die a-laughing." 
 
 And Mr. Hamilton burst into a roar of laughter, which 
 did not relax Mr. Effingham's face, however, in the remotest 
 degree. 
 
 " The villain has been overcoming me lately on a variety 
 of occasions," Hamilton went on. " The last was the other 
 day, but I had better not mention that : the explanation 
 would be awkward." 
 
 And Mr. Hamilton laughed again. 
 
 " We have been over to Mr. Lee's," he continued, " and 
 you never did hear such an infernal clatter as those two 
 men kept up, with their wearisome political discussions." 
 
 " Indeed?" repeated Mr. Effingham, like an icicle. 
 
 "Yes, sir, by George! they nearly drove me crazy. 
 Nothing but the Stamp Act this, sir ! the Stamp Act that, 
 sir ! the Stamp Act the other, sir ! the Stamp Act, here, 
 there, every where : in the middle, all around, on both sides! 
 In the same way it was the Navigation Laws this, that, and 
 the other 1 The opening of the House, and the Governor's 
 speech ! The seven years' war, which I was in hopes had all 
 been fought and forgotten ! Then it was this nightmare of 
 the Stamp Act again ! By Jove ! when the time comes, I 
 shall be ready to fight if need be, but where is the use of 
 this eternal wearisome discussion ? Don't it weary you ? " 
 
 " I am not fond of politics," said Mr. Effingham, more 
 and more coldly : he was about to add a "sir" to his sen 
 tence, but refrained.
 
 SEIGNEUR MORT-REYNARD CATCHES A TARTAB. 225 
 
 " By George ! " said Hamilton, " I believe you are fond 
 of nothing on earth." 
 
 " You are mistaken." 
 
 " Of what are you fond ? " 
 
 " Of quiet," said Mr. Effirigham, in a freezing tone. 
 
 Hamilton did not observe it. 
 
 " Ah, that means you do not like to engage in these eter 
 nal discussions. Well, we sympathize then." 
 
 Mr. Effingham inclined his head coldly, making no 
 reply. 
 
 " It don't follow, however, that you need engage in them 
 when you visit Mr. Lee," continued his visitor j " a man is 
 always at liberty to escape to the ladies." 
 
 Mr. Effingham was silent. 
 
 " There is Henrietta always ready to discuss fashions, 
 travel, books, every thing but politics." 
 
 Mr. Effingham continued still silent, but his breast 
 heaved. 
 
 " Of course Clare would not amuse you," Hamilton 
 went on, " absorbed as she naturally is in our approaching 
 hem ! see what a fellow I am ! " 
 
 And Mr. Hamilton seemed to wish his tongue in Guinea, 
 Jericho, or other remote place, where it would not easily be 
 got at. Mr. Effingham turned away his head, and his brow 
 darkened. 
 
 " Clare is a woman out of a thousand," continued his 
 visitor, "just the girl for a jolly fellow, not too soft and 
 lackadaisical, but quite soft enough to smooth down those 
 bachelor asperities which interfere with a fellow's standing 
 in society. She is a finer girl than any within fifty leagues, 
 though I say it. 
 
 He did not observe Mr. Effingham's frown. 
 
 " You would be benefited now," continued Mr. Hamilton, 
 " if you would go over there oftener, and not persist in shut 
 ting yourself up here so secluded and lonely. By George ! 
 you'll expire of weariness." 
 
 No reply : but the brow grew darker. 
 
 " Come, tell me how this ridiculous habit has grown OC 
 you ? why don't you go and see Henrietta ? " 
 
 Mr. Effingham's eye flashed. 
 
 ' She's a splendid girl." 
 24
 
 226 SEIGNEUR MORT-REYNARD CATCHES A TARTAR. 
 
 No reply. 
 
 " Of course I don't speak of Clare : by the bye, you used 
 V) pay her some attention " 
 
 He did not observe the flush rising in the cheek. 
 
 " You were even sweethearts in childhood. How things 
 change in this world : women don't continue to like a maq 
 because they were fond of him when he was a boy." 
 
 Mr. Hamilton was treading upon dangerous ground: 
 Mr. Effingham was losing his self control rapidly, as his 
 heaving breast, and eyes filling slowly with a lurid fire, 
 plainly indicated. 
 
 <; Strange 1 isn't it ? " continued Hamilton, " that after 
 having at her feet so many elegant fellows, Clare should 
 well, well, where am I rushing ? I can't keep any thing 
 secret. But the more I study these women, the more I am 
 puzzled. I can understand you, now, and 'most any man 
 but a woman ? By George 1 that's beyond me they're too 
 deep. Now, I should have thought Clara would have liked 
 some people, better than, well, say, other people: that's 
 non-committal. By George ! you are pale, Eflmgham ! How 
 this staying in the house is hurting you ! You are growing 
 a perfect girl." 
 
 Mr. Eflingham was indeed pale, but this pallor sprung 
 from rage : every word that Hamilton uttered was another 
 dagger plunged into his heart, and these were poisoned dag 
 gers poisoned with contemptuous coolness. 
 
 Hamilton assumed a commiserating air, and said with a 
 cool and easy smile, 
 
 " Why do you stay from Kiverhead ? Clare's present 
 relation toward a nameless individual should not keep you 
 from the house. Come, tell me why ! " 
 
 The measure was full. 
 
 Mr. Eflingham rose to his feet, and said haughtily, and 
 with flashing eyes, 
 
 " Mr. Hamilton, be good enough to shape your discourse 
 in puch a manner, that I may not be compelled to insult 
 you in my own house ! " 
 
 " Insult me ! " cried Hamilton. 
 
 " Yes, sir 1 your air of astonishment does not deceive me 
 I am not the dupe of your good-humored surprise at my 
 address. YOU know well, sir, that I have cause to insujt
 
 feBIQNEUR MORT-REYNARD CATCHES A TARTAR. 5iii7 
 
 you. Not content with making me wretched and miserable 
 beyond conception, by depriving me of the heart of the only 
 woman I have ever really loved, you choose to come here, 
 and, under the protection of this roof, utter your insulting 
 and ironical speeches in my very teeth ! By heaven, sir, I 
 will not endure it ! I am not sudden in quarrel, sir, and 
 have no desire to engage in any altercation ; but, beware, 
 sir ! Woe to the man who strikes me, as you have done, 
 through the heart ! let him not count upon a very lengthy 
 forbearance ! You affect to feel surprise, sir you look 
 shocked ! Very well, you are at liberty to assume any ex 
 pression of countenance you fancy ! I have endeavored to 
 prevent my feelings from mastering me, sir I have more 
 than once curbed my rage, and my despair yes, in my des 
 pair, it is humiliating to say it, but I wish to be frank I 
 have more than once concealed the emotions produced in me 
 by your unfeeling and unworthy allusions ; but I now say to 
 you, sir, that my patience is exhausted. I shall not always 
 put a rein upon my anger I will not attempt it. Go, sir 1 
 and laugh at me with that lady who has chosen you in my 
 place, as she had the right to do. Go, sir ! and mock, de 
 ride, sprinkle your ambiguous voices, and despise me to your 
 heart's desire But beware, sir, how you come hither to 
 taunt and jest at me to make me the butt of your wit and 
 humor to insist that I too shall join in the laugh at my 
 self, and wait until you have gone, before I tear my breast 
 and curse you 1 " 
 
 It was impossible to describe the passionate emotion with 
 which these words were uttered ; Mr. Effingham looked 
 dangerous ; his eyes flashed ; his lip writhed ; his haughty 
 brow was covered with perspiration ; and his teeth were 
 clenched. As he uttered the last words, he surveyed Hamil 
 ton with one of those haughty glances, which seem like 
 flashes of fire, and for a moment hesitated whether he should 
 add any thing to what he had uttered. The struggle was 
 brief; he restrained himself, and bowing with cold dignity, 
 he left the room. 
 
 Hamilton for a moment continued gazing aft$r him com 
 pletely dumbfoundered, and in no little anger. Then as he 
 disappeared, the fox-hunter rose, hesitated a moment, grasped 
 his hat and whip furiously, and hastily left the house.
 
 228 A COUNTRY CffCKCH IN 1765. 
 
 " By Jove ! " who would have thought it ? " Jie said. " 1 
 thought, however, it was wrong. This joking will ruin ine ! * 
 
 And uttering a prolonged whistle, indicative of anger and 
 dissatisfaction, he mounted his horse and rode away. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 A COUNTRY CHURCH IN 176B. 
 
 IF the reader will deign to cast his eyes back, he will see that 
 the events we have just related, occurred on days imme 
 diately succeeding each other. Captain Ralph had finished 
 Lanky's business on Friday morning ; the picnic in the 
 woods had taken place upon Saturday forenoon, that day 
 being holiday for the Cornstalk regiment ; then this same 
 Saturday had seen the soldier on his way to Riverhead, and 
 had witnessed his defeat by the fox-hunter. Lastly, the 
 scene we have this moment related, occurred in the afternoon, 
 at the Hall, as the reader knows. 
 
 We now beg leave to continue our history, with the 
 events of the next day Sunday ; and for the purpose of 
 connecting the narrative by links so plain that they will need 
 no commentary at our hands, shall accompany the Effingham 
 Hall carriage to church. 
 
 The chariot drove up to the old edifice, which was gilded 
 by the fresh light of the pure May morning, and deposited 
 its freight at one of the doors, at which stood a group of 
 young men, whose self imposed duty was to assist the ladies 
 from their chariots when they arrived. The chariot con 
 tained the whole family from the Hall, who looked very calm 
 and happy, with the exception of Mr. Eflingham, whose face 
 was unusually pale, and all entered the old church and 
 devoutly knelt. Perhaps a word of description would not be 
 inappropriate here ; for these old houses of the Lord 
 differed, we need not say, materially from those of the present 
 day and generatioa. Christ Church was an old building of 
 discolored stone, and above it waved the boughs of a great 
 elm ; the windows and doors were surmounted by little roofs, 
 so to speak, supported by iron rods ; a stone slab lay befor*
 
 A COUNTRY CHURCH IN 1765 229 
 
 each door. Within, the feet trod upon flag stones, and the 
 pews were enormously high, and with perfectly straight backs. 
 In these, the audience were almost buried. On the walls of 
 the chancel were inscribed the ten commandments gilt 
 letters on an azure ground ; and below the reading desk and 
 pulpit, stood the box and bench of the " clark," whose duty 
 was to make the responses. The pulpit was very lofty, and 
 in the shape of a tub; it was reached by two circular flights 
 of steps, and above it was stretched a canopy, on the nether 
 side of which a golden star irradiated, while upon the sum 
 mit, a dove expanded its wings, symbolizing the spirit of the 
 Holy Ghost. 
 
 The old edifice, as we have said, was overshadowed by 
 the boughs of a great elm, and beneath this elm were a num 
 ber of monuments, which told the virtues of those who slept 
 beneath. Some of the tombstones were adorned with coats 
 of arms, and flourishing panegyrics, which make the dead 
 more noble and perfect than the great father of Manrique ; 
 many an armiger was made matchless and superior to 
 Bayard the reproachless knight ; many a noble lady had her 
 charities narrated in that grand eulogistic rhetoric of the 
 past, and still lived in the eyes of all, through the veiled 
 head carved on the stone, with clasped hands. But then 
 there were other memorials which more deeply impressed 
 the beholder plain stones, indicating the resting-place of 
 some child, with those simple inscriptions which affect men 
 so strangely as they wander through these resting places of 
 the dead ; for all that is sublime is simple. Great feeling 
 does not rant ; and these small white headstones seemed to 
 have more of the other world about them, so to speak, thar 
 the fine monuments which, though the feeling of those who 
 erected them were doubtless quite as pure, yet seemed to 
 cling still to the pomps and vanities, dead now to those who 
 slept. 
 
 The tombstones, white, against the green velvety grass, 
 made the churchyard pure and happy, not gloomy. They 
 looked calm and peaceful ; and the good Mr. Christian's flock 
 listened more attentively, as they murmured the responses 
 more devoutly, for having before their eyes those memorials 
 of rest and peace. And children played about them : men 
 came and read the inscriptions, and mused, thinking of
 
 230 A COUNTRY CHURCH IN 1765. 
 
 the holy dead ; and even the birds singing above the old 
 edifice seemed better pleased to have the marbla head 
 stones there. So the old mansion rested quietly beneath 
 its whispering elm, among the graves. It looked calm and 
 hopeful, giving promise of another world. 
 
 Mr. Christian's sermon was upon humility, and the danger 
 of pride and vaingloriousness of those moods of mind when 
 the heart and brain fancy themselves equal to every thing 
 and so spurn all humble thoughts. He spoke of that sub 
 lime humility of our Saviour, when he washed his disciples' 
 feet ; and the low, eloquent voice was full of soothing, ten 
 der emotion. He then presented the evils arising from a 
 haughty and overbearing spirit, and denounced them with 
 impassioned vigor : he branded the proud and self-willed 
 man until the picture grew hateful and repulsive ; he then 
 depicted the strength and greatness of humility, even in a 
 worldly sense : the overwhelming power of conscious weak 
 ness. Finally ; he enforced his doctrines by the Saviour's 
 command to men, to grow like little children in hnmility if they 
 would enter into the kingdom of heaven. All this the wor 
 thy pastor enforced with a mild strength which produced a 
 strong impression upon his hearers. When he raised hia 
 hands to bless his flock before dismissing them, all hearts 
 felt purer for his teachings, and charity and humility were 
 in every face. 
 
 Then succeeded that lengthy shaking of hands and inter 
 change of neighborly gossip which characterizes, we believe, 
 all country churches. And so while Miss Alethea was in 
 quiring about a variety of interesting matters within, with 
 her lady friends, the squire laughed without, strutting about 
 in his fine Sunday suit, and not imagining for a single mo 
 ment that he wanted humility : the preacher's sermon was 
 meant for other people. 
 
 Mr. Efiingham leaned against the trunk of the great elm, 
 pale, haughty, and only half returning the bows made to 
 him. Once, however, he did rise suddenly erect and make 
 a proud and ceremonious inclination of his head : Mr. Ham 
 ilton had bowed to him in passing. Beyond this, he showed 
 scarcely any consciousness of where lie was. Absorbed in 
 his gloomy reverie, he paid as little attention to the brilliant 
 groups of fair ladies, who looked with no slight admiration
 
 A COUNTRY ;HURCH m J765. 23* 
 
 on his pale, handsome face, as he had done to the sermon 
 That sermon had not produced the least impression on him 
 he had not heard it even ; for near him sat Clare, and all his 
 gloom had returned at sight of her. 
 
 He loved her now a thousand fold more than ever : she 
 was dearer to him than all the world beside : the sight of 
 her brought back to him every happy day he had spent in 
 the past the knowledge of the fact that she was lost to 
 him renewed his most passionate anguish. It was a singu 
 lar spectacle which he presented, standing thus in the mid 
 dle of the gay, laughing crowd, as perfectly isolated as if that 
 crowd did not exist, and nothing were around him but the 
 calm white tombstones. His brow, as we have said, was 
 pale, his eyes were shadowy, his lips compressed ; he might 
 have been taken for one of those characters of romance who 
 throw their fiery passions and wild natures into the tranquil 
 stream of ordinary life, and lash it into foam. And, in Mr. 
 Effingham's case, this, as we know, was not very - far from 
 the fact ; he had defied society for a woman, carried that 
 woman off, and done many other things which much better 
 suited heroes of poetry or opera grandees, than a plain Vir 
 ginia citizen; and now we see in his face the ravages of 
 that wild, passionate character, so dangerous when aroused. 
 
 The congregation slowly dispersed, and the Riverhead 
 carriage and that of the squire drew up together. Mr. Ef- 
 fingham saw a form that made him tremble pass before him. 
 His hand for a moment sustained the white arm, covered 
 only with a diaphanous lace, as he assisted her into the 
 chariot, he knew not how. A shadowy mist seemed to en 
 velope all from which a pair of soft blue eyes, and a young 
 girl's blushing cheeks emerged and then the four horses 
 were whipped up, he heard distinctly the crack of the lash, 
 and the vision disappeared. He saw two cavaliers, one 
 riding upon each side the one was smiling the other gloomy. 
 The smiling one was Mr. Hamilton, who was talking through 
 the window to Clare, and looking back occasionally at Mr. 
 Effingham, who ground his teeth. The gloomy cavalier was 
 Captain Ralph, who had caught a smile directed by Henri 
 etta towards Mr. Effingham, and totally unseen by that gen 
 tleman. 
 
 We may hazard here the observation that lovers are
 
 THE CHILD AND THE PORTRAIT. 
 
 wholly destitute of conscience, magnanimity, common sense, 
 and ordinary courtesy. Mr. Hamilton was laughing at his 
 friend, the Captain was quarrelling with a smile of simple 
 courtesy. 
 
 Mr. Effingham entered the Effingham chariot with the 
 squire, Miss Alethea, and Kate, and Will mounted his 
 pony. The old sexton locked the church, and, putting his 
 spectacles away, tottered homeward. Church was over. 
 
 THE CHILD AND THE PORTRAIT. 
 
 THE great clock at the Hall has just struck ten ; and those 
 echoes, which seem to wake as mortals go to sleep, answer 
 it through the shadowy apartments. 
 
 Mr. Effingham and Kate are seated in the library read 
 ing; a few twigs in the great fireplace crackle and sing as 
 they crumble into white ashes ; the burning embers slowly 
 donning those snowy hoods which shroud them when they 
 are about to die. A faint blue smoke occasionally curls up 
 ward, and the old grotesque brass handirons cast shadows. 
 
 For a time, nothing is heard but the singing of the 
 fire, which has not yet mastered one or two sappy twigs. 
 
 At last Mr. Effingham lays down his book, and utters a 
 sigh which attracts Kate's attention. 
 
 The child raises her head from the Sunday-school vol 
 ume she has been reading. 
 
 Their eyes meet : she gazes at him wistfully at the 
 pale brow, the sad lips, the weary eyes : his head droops. 
 
 The child closes her book, softly approaches him, and 
 lays her hand upon his shoulder. Mr. Effingham smiles 
 Badly, and passes his hand slowly over the bright locks of 
 the child. 
 
 " What is the matter, cousin ? " asked Kate, " I don't 
 like to hear you sighing so." 
 
 " Nothing," he says. 
 
 " I am afraid you are not happy," Kate says, wistfully 
 1 and I cannot feel happy if you are not."
 
 THE CHILD AND THE PORTRAIT. 233 
 
 Mr. Effingham only presses the little form more closely 
 with his encircling arm. 
 
 Kate continues, laying her cheek on his shoulder, and 
 looking up softly into his shadowy eyes : 
 
 " I don't think you are well, dear oousin, and it grieves 
 me. Indeed, indeed it does." 
 
 " I am not sick no, not sick," he murmurs, " but " 
 
 And his hand unconsciously seeks his heart and rests 
 there. 
 
 The child understands at once, with the marvellous in 
 stinct of affection. 
 
 " That is the worst kind of sickness," she says, in a low, 
 tender voice, " heart-sickness." 
 
 " Do you think my heart is sick ? " he says with a wist 
 ful smile, his head drooping more and more. 
 
 " I don't know," the child answers, turning aside her 
 face. 
 
 " I should be very unhappy were that so," he continued. 
 
 " Yes," murmurs Kate. 
 
 " And still more unhappy, if you, dear, ever felt what " 
 
 He does not finish the form of the child is agitated 
 slightly. 
 
 " Men can bear having their hopes all disappointed, 
 their affections chilled, their lives rendered dark and 
 gloomy by those afflicting trials, which they must pass 
 through in existence," he goes on thoughtfully, " but chil 
 dren should not feel them ; were you to be distressed, 
 Katy, I think I should find it harder to bear than all." 
 
 The child's face turns away still. 
 
 " I pray you may never feel the afflictions I have gon 
 through formerly," he says. 
 
 The head nestles closer and the tender form shakes. 
 
 " What is the matter, dear ? " he asks, observing this. 
 
 Kate makes no reply. 
 
 " Have I made you feel badly ? See how thoughtless 1 
 am ! Why, Kate crying ? * 
 
 She leans upon his shoulder, sobbing ; her eyes are full 
 of tears. 
 
 " I can't help it, cousin," she murmurs ; " I know it is 
 very foolish ; I am only a child don't mind me." 
 
 " Only a child, Katy ? Ah ! if I could go back to the
 
 234 TftE CfllLD AND THE PORTRAIT. 
 
 time when I was only a child. I am a man now but don't 
 cry, dear?" 
 
 " I won't," says Kate, sobl ing and wiping her eyes ; " it 
 s not right to cry, but you know I can't bear to see you 
 distressed." 
 
 " I have got over it if I was so," he replies, caressing 
 the child's hair; " come, now, Kate don't cry." 
 
 " I will not," says the child, and she dries her tears, and 
 slowly becomes calm again. 
 
 " I am very foolish," she murmurs, " but I won't give 
 way any more. It is not right for us to give way to all our 
 feelings, and I didn't think I should. But I was thinking 
 of what you had suffered, and I couldn't help it. I'm done 
 now. and don't mind me, cousin Champ. It is all over." 
 
 The low words die away in the quiet room, and there is 
 a silence, the man's hand still thoughtfully caressing the 
 child's hair. 
 
 " Kate," he says at last, " I think I would like to hear 
 you read a little from your Bible ; I did not listen in church 
 to-day." 
 
 " Oh ! yes," says Kate, " I will get it presently." 
 
 And in a moment she has returned, and is seated in his 
 lap, with the book open. 
 
 " Will you hear this ? " she says, with a soft look of her 
 dewy eyes, and pointing as she speaks to a passage on the 
 page. 
 
 " Any thing, Kate," he says. 
 
 And the child, leaning her head on his breast, com 
 mences reading in a low, earnest voice, slowly and feel 
 ingly : 
 
 " ' But he was wounded for our transgressions ; he was 
 bruised for ur iniquities : the chastisement of our peaoe 
 was upon him, and with his stripes we are healed. 
 
 " ' All we like sheep have gone astray ; we have turned 
 every one to his own way ; and the Lord hath laid on him 
 the iniquity of us all. 
 
 " ' He was oppressed and he was afflicted, yet he opened 
 not his mouth : he is brought as a lamb to the slaughter ; 
 and as a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so he opened 
 not his mouth. 
 
 " ' He was taken from prison and from judgment ; and
 
 THE CHILD AND THE POJ TRAIt. 233 
 
 who shall declare his generation ? for he was cut off out of 
 the land of the living : for the transgression of my people 
 was he stricken.' " 
 
 The soft low voice paused, and the child seems to be ab 
 sorbed in thought : her eyes go back, and she reads lowly : 
 
 " ' He is despised and rejected of men ; a man of sor 
 rows and acquainted with grief; and we hid, as it were, our 
 faces from him : he was despised, and we esteemed him not 
 
 " ' Surely he hath borne our griefs and carried our sor 
 rows ; yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and 
 afflicted. 
 
 " ' He was wounded for our transgressions ; he was 
 bruised for our iniquities ; ' " repeated the child, closing the 
 book and fixing her eyes thoughtfully upon the fire ; 
 " ' bruised for our iniquities.' " 
 
 The low, earnest voice dies away into a whisper, and she 
 is silent. 
 
 He looks at the thoughtful little face for some moments, 
 and says : 
 
 " Katy, I wish you could make me good." 
 
 " I ? I, cousin Champ ? " she says. 
 
 " Yes, indeed ; like yourself." 
 
 Kate shakes her head sadly. 
 
 " I am not good," she replies. 
 
 " If you are bad, what am I ? The idea is not agree 
 able," he murmurs. 
 
 " What did you say, cousin ? " 
 
 " That is just what I wished to hear you read," he says, 
 sighing ; " and now, Kate, remember what I asked you once 
 upon a time 1 " 
 
 " What, cousin ? " says the child, thoughtfully. 
 
 " I asked you to tell me what heaven was what you 
 thought it was." 
 
 " Did you ? but I don't know." 
 
 "What do you think?" 
 
 " I think it is a place where every body loves God." 
 
 " Yes," he says. 
 
 " And that's why I think it must be happier than this 
 world, where we don't love him enough. Oh ! cousin 
 Champ," she goes on. thoughtfully, " what a happy place 
 heaven must be. I think of it in this way. I think of t&t
 
 236 THE CHILD AND THE PORTRAIT. 
 
 people and things I love best in the world, and of all the 
 happiest things we have. And then, when I feel so oalm 
 and grateful, I say to myself: ' all this is nothing to heaven ! 
 Fof in heaven, you know, nothing can ever hurt us : here 
 we have to suffer, and sometimes the people we love do not 
 love us, you know, and we are afflicted and distressed ; or 
 they change, you know, from loving us, and don't care for 
 us any more : or they grow sick and die ; and all this inter 
 feres with our happiness. It is not so in heaven, the Bible 
 says. There we love God, and you know God does not 
 change if we obey and love him : he will always love us 
 dearly if we love and fear him. There is no sickness in 
 heaven, and no affliction and then, again, think of eternity ! 
 Eternity ! I don't know how to think about it, but the 
 thought of eternal happiness seems very plain to me. In 
 this world, we can't live very long, you know, and no mat 
 ter how happy we are, we must soon die and give all up 
 In heaven, we won't die ever, you know, and we will not 
 suffer, but be happy and love every body for ever and 
 ever." 
 
 Kate is silent ; she is thinking. 
 
 " I try to be good," she continues, thoughtfully, " and I 
 pray mamma to look down on me and keep me good if she 
 can ; but I'm afraid I'm very bad. I don't think about God 
 enough and the Saviour, and I am too thoughtless, as we 
 were in the woods yesterday, you know when we had our 
 picnic. But I can't help laughing when I feel like it easily ; 
 but I mustn't be too thoughtless. I try and think about 
 heaven, and how happy mamma and papa are, you know; and 
 how good Jesus was to us, to be ' bruised for our iniquities. 
 Oh ! think," repeats the calm, low voice, " he was bruised 
 cousin Champ ' bruised for our iniquities.' " 
 
 And the child is silent again. 
 
 He looks at the tender, thoughtful face, and from it to the 
 portrait over the fireplace. 
 
 " Strikingly alike ! " he murmurs, and then adds aloud : 
 
 " Yes, dear, we are very bad to forget it as I do always : 
 well, well, you have made me feel much happier, and now you 
 had better go to bed." 
 
 Kate raises her head, kisses him according to the Virgin
 
 HOW CAPTAIN WATERS K'AS CHALLENGED. 237 
 
 ia custom, and after leaning hei face affectionately on his 
 shoulder for a moment, slowly retires. 
 
 He looks after her for some minutes : raises his eyes 
 again to the portrait : looks at the little Bible : hesitates, 
 buried in thought Then he rises suddenly, goes to the 
 table, opens his portfolio, and taking a pen and a sheet ot 
 paper, writes : 
 
 " MY DEAR HAMILTON : 
 
 " I regret the harshness and passion of my address to you 
 yesterday. I trust you will not permit it to remain in your 
 recollection. I have no calmness on that subject, and for 
 this reason must ask you never again to allude to it. I am 
 afraid of myself. For G-od's sake ! don't arouse the devil in 
 me when I am trying to lull it, at the risk of breaking my 
 heart in the attempt. 
 
 " I have nothing more to add. 
 
 " Your friend, 
 
 0. EFFINGHAM." 
 " The Hall, Sunday night" 
 
 Then folding up this note, he directed it to Mr. Hamil 
 ton, placed it on the mantel-piece, and with a long, gloomy 
 sorrowful look, regarded the portrait of his mother. That 
 portrait seemed to smile on him the mild eyes to bless him 
 those eyes seemed living once again, and the lips almost 
 moved. 
 
 A profound sigh shook his bosom, and his head drooped : 
 but when he retired his heart was not so heavy, and that 
 sombre bitterness of mood had passed away. The old, sad 
 look came back again, and the moon lit up the pale counte 
 nance with its light, and smiled. 
 
 The weary heart slept tranquilly. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 HOW CAPTAIN WATERS WAS CHALLENGED TO MORTAL COMBAT. 
 
 " THE manner in which Captain Ralph vituperated Lanky,, 
 upon that occasion, was positively shocking In the fir*t
 
 238 HOW CAPTAIN WATERS WAS CHALLENGED. 
 
 place it was uncalled for ; in the second place it was ungen 
 erous, considering Lanky's inoffensive character ; in the 
 third place, it was too great an expenditure of genius upon an 
 humble personage, and an ordinary occasion. 
 
 " The Captain swore philologically, and with an eye to 
 ethnology. He proceeded geographically, first exhausting 
 that department of Spanish and Portuguese, after which he 
 went on to France, and swore that oath-loving land quite 
 through, from Gascony and Provence to Normandy. He 
 did not neglect Germany and Prussia, and paid due honor 
 to Italy, where the science has perhaps arrived at its climax. 
 And in all this flood there was no mixture of the deeply 
 impure. The Captain's expletives were of that pleasant and 
 humorous description, which are not inconsistent with a very 
 charitable nature, and we may in a single word describe the 
 handling of this great master, by saying that he swore poet 
 ically and from the imagination, not coarsely and from envy 
 and hatred. 
 
 " Having exhausted Syria and Persia, the Captain mod 
 estly paused : he had not travelled further, and great as was 
 his ill-humor, he would not trespass on his fancy. Instead 
 of doing so, he seized his sword, and placing himself in po 
 sition, called on Lanky to defend himself. Lanky replied by 
 mentioning his master's military title, with an ' Oh ! ' before 
 it ; and this not being satisfactory, the Captain lunged furi 
 ously at him, and several times grazed the unfortunate Lanky, 
 who uttered cries of despair and terror, as he shrunk and 
 curled himself up to avoid the imminent sword point, flashing 
 like a fiery serpent's head before his breast." 
 
 Thus far the author of the MS. 
 
 It is scarcely necessary for us, in explanation of Captain 
 Ralph's ill-humor, to do more than refer to the scene between 
 himself and Mr. Hamilton, narrated in former pages of this 
 history. The present outburst occurred on the Monday im 
 mediately following ; and in it the Captain poured out all 
 the wrath which had been slowly gathering, like a storm, for 
 fortj -eight hours. 
 
 When he had nearly terrified Lanky out of his wits, he 
 calmly restored his sword to its scabbard, and sat down. 
 
 " Oh, Cap'n," said Lanky, " did anybody ever see " 
 
 " Basta ! you villain, don't appeal to me 1 " 
 
 " Oh, Cap'n 1
 
 CAPTAIN WATERS WAS CHALLENGED. 39 
 
 " Off with you 1 I'm in a man-eating humor. Stay it 
 you dare, you rascal, and I'll fry you 1 " 
 
 "Fry me?" 
 
 " Yes, morbleu ! " 
 
 Lanky meditated for a moment, and thought how Lo 
 would feel if this terrible threat was carried into effect. The 
 idea was disagreeable in the highest degree, and he made a 
 step towards the door. 
 
 :< Stay ! " thundered the Captain, " the sight of that pin 
 knot head, you Scaramouch, keeps me from having a fit cf 
 the blue devils." 
 
 " The blue devils, Cap'n ? " asked Lanky, pausing. 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Are you subjic to 'em ? " 
 
 " No, you rascal : but I am threatened with them. One 
 thing consoles me, however: threatened men live long." 
 
 Lanky inclined his head, in token of acquiescence. 
 
 " Sim Trabbles said he was goin' to cut me up into sos- 
 bige once," said Lanky, " an' I aint cut up yit." 
 
 " Well, sir, what do you fancy I care for you and Mr. 
 Trabbles ? Sink Trabbles ! you rascal 1 " 
 
 " Oh, Cap'n ! " 
 
 " Dance, there ! " 
 
 " Me dance, Cap'n ? " 
 
 " Yes, this moment." 
 
 Lanky looked around, groaning. 
 
 " They aint no music. Oh, Cap'n," he added, " what's 
 the matter with you ? " 
 
 " I'm in an ill-humor, you Scaramouch terribly angry." 
 
 " Cap'n," observed Lanky. 
 
 " Sir ? " 
 
 " What is a Skarrymush ? ' 
 
 The Captain regarded his retainer for a moment with 
 contemptuous pity. 
 
 " Look in that mirror," he said. 
 
 Lanky obeyed. 
 
 "Well, sir? " said Lanky. 
 
 " You have all the reply I deign to give you ! Now take 
 yourself elsewhere, you gobemouche." 
 
 " Gobmush ! " cried Lanky. 
 
 The Captain aimed at him with a volume that was iying
 
 240 HOW CAPTAIN WATERS WAS CHALLENGED. 
 
 on the table, and Lanky took to his heels, and disappeared, 
 deeply wounded at being called those two dreadful names, 
 ending with "mouche." 
 
 Left alone, the Captain twirled his moustaches, and re 
 lapsed into gloom again. It was a splendid day of May, but 
 the Captain did not see the sunlight ; the birds sang among 
 the forest boughs the Captain did not hear them : the river 
 lapped upon the shore, the white -capped waves laughing for 
 joy : the Captain did not heed them. For the worthy fellow 
 was troubled ; he had, for the first time, found opposed to him 
 a dangerous rival ; he was doubtful what course to pursue, 
 for, perhaps, the first time in his life that life so filled with 
 shocks, and blaring trumpets, and quick blows. 
 
 He remained silent and motionless for half an hour ' 
 then his eye suddenly lighted up. and rising he opened a 
 drawer, took out pen, ink and paper, and dipping the goose- 
 quill into the inkstand, began to write, in large, heavy letters, 
 and with great rapidity. 
 
 Let us look over his shoulder : these words appear be 
 neath his flying pen : 
 
 " My dear Companion : 
 
 This is an unhappy world, and devious are the 
 ways thereof. Man especially a rude fellow, morbleu ! 
 knows not what to do often ; he is puzzled ; he hesitates and 
 stands still. Do you ask me what I mean by this small mo 
 ral discourse ? Parbleu ! I mean that I am the rude fel 
 low and the puzzled man. 
 
 "If you were an ordinary rival, basta ! there would be 
 few words. I would solicit the honor of being allowed an 
 opportunity to pink you ; and there 'twould end. I'd go 
 on in my course or fall : and so finish. But I can't well run 
 you through. Diable ! I should say not. You are her cou 
 sin, you are a bon compagnon, you smile when we meet. 
 See the difficulty. 
 
 " Ah ! were you only not unfortunately so placed for 
 how can I act ? I put it to you as a man of sense and rea 
 son, is there any opening ? Indicate it, my dear companion 
 zounds ! the sword shall not touch my hand unless I am 
 compelled. 
 
 " See, now, I am a rude soldier, a mere war animal, a
 
 HOW CAPTAIN WATERS WAS CHALLENGED. 41 
 
 fighting hack, or if not a hack a military personage 1 think 
 I can venture on that general description. Well, now what 
 can I do ? I beg you, mon ami, to give me your ideas : 
 what say you to a bargain that we shall see the charming 
 mademoiselle only on alternate days ? to avoid collisions, 
 you observe. These little matters are disagreeable, and of 
 ten end in an appeal to the toasting iron, inorbleu ! 
 
 " For me, I don't conceal the fact that I shall prosecute 
 the war with vigor. I have advanced to the trenches, and 
 the next movement will be to hoist the ladders : then, the 
 trumpet and the assault. I know nothing beyond this I'm 
 a mere baby tonnere \ I am as innocent as a child. There 
 fore, my good companion, come to my assistance. We are 
 rivals basta ! don't let us have any ambiguities, or conceal 
 ments. I would conquer, I would see you defeated; Voila 
 tout ! But I would do so without placing myself in position 
 you understand I am tired of fighting every thing out : 
 I am becoming decidedly a man of peace, a quiet and moral 
 citizen I wish, even, as you may understand, to become a 
 respectable married man. 
 
 " I thought the chances were tolerable, but diable ! I find 
 I have a rival whom I cannot despise if I would. You are a 
 good-looking, gallant fellow, morbleu ! and just the man to in 
 terest a woman, as a friend of mine observed lately. I hon> 
 estly confess that I'm afraid of you. Observe again ! You 
 are her cousin ; parlous adds companion : yet I do not de 
 spair. 
 
 : I write mis which I send by Lanky, simply that it 
 may not resemble an invitation to the duello- I write, I was 
 going on to say, to ask you, bon ami, ban. compagnon, how we 
 are to arrange the matter. I'm weary of cut ! thrust I and 
 then blood. 
 
 " Send back your answer by the Scaramouch who brings 
 you this Toute a vous. 
 
 " RALPH WATERS." 
 
 Having read this letter over hurriedly, and finding it ex 
 press his ideas with tolerable distinctness, the Captain sum 
 moned Lanky, who made his appearance with an air of dread 
 ful apprehension, for the vision of himself frying had pro 
 duced a more and more disagreeable impression, the more ho
 
 242 HOW CAPTAIN WATERS WAS CHALLENGED. 
 
 thought upon the subject. He was much relieved to find 
 that he was only wanted to officiate in the character of a 
 messenger not at an auto da fe. 
 
 " Take this to Effingham Hall, and deliver it to Mr. Ef- 
 fingham," he said. " See here upon the back ' Mr. Effingham, 
 Effingham Hall.' Then wait for an answer, you villain." 
 
 Lanky placed the letter in his pouch, put on his hat, and 
 mounting the cart-horse, set off. 
 
 The Captain sat down again, listless, and venting mor- 
 bleus : and very doubtful whether his letter would answer the 
 desired object. 
 
 " But what could I do ! ): he said, " parbleu ! I am check 
 mated. I don't want to fight Effingham I don't want to 
 have any further altercation with one related to Ma'mselle 
 Henrietta ; ah ! but I wish still less to be beaten. Morbleu ! 
 was there ever such an unfortunate event ! " 
 
 And the Captain relapsed into silence and thought. 
 
 He was aroused by the sound of hoofs, and looking out 
 saw Lanky dismounting. Hours had passed without his be 
 ing conscious of the fact. 
 
 " Well, well, the answer ! " he cried impatiently. 
 
 " Here it is, sur," said Lanky ; and drawing forth a billet 
 he politely presented it to the soldier. Captain Ralph tore 
 it open aiid read : 
 
 "SIR, 
 
 Your letter is offensive I will not make any deroga 
 tory agreement with you, sir. I would rather end all at 
 once, and I hereby call on you to meet me, sir, this very day 
 at the Banks' Cross-roads. At five o'clock this evening, I 
 shall await you. 
 
 " I have the honor to be, sir, 
 
 " EFFINGHAM." 
 
 The Captain stood aghast read the letter over, then 
 crushing it in his hand, fell into a rage, which caused Lanky 
 the most dreadful trepidation. 
 
 " Morbleu ! " cried the Captain, " fighting is his forte, is 
 it ! he would end the matter so. would \e ! Very well, we 
 shall see." 
 
 And seizing his sword he buckled it on, and ordered
 
 ON THE GROUND. 243 
 
 Lanky, in a voice of thunder, to saddle his horse. Lanky 
 obeyed, trembling, and in a quartei of an hour Captain Ralph 
 was on his way to Hamilton's, where he expected to find some 
 second, in case Mr. Hamilton was engaged to act for Mr. 
 Effingham. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 OS THE GBOUND. 
 
 THE fox-hunter displayed the most unaffected astonishment at 
 the Captain's communication, and would at once have revealed 
 the trick he had played ; but a sight of the letter stopped 
 him. 
 
 After reading it over twice, he shook his head mournful 
 ly, and said it was a most unhappy affair but really, he did 
 not see any other mode of settling it. Then he hastily left 
 the room, and a roar of laughter succeeded ; immediately af 
 ter which Mr. Hamilton's voice was heard reprimanding the 
 servant, who had no doubt uttered this disrespectful sound 
 in a tone of dignified astonishment. 
 
 Soon afterwards, dinner was announced, and Hamilton 
 advised his friend not to drink much, as it would unsteady 
 his hand in the coming encounter. 
 
 ' I will not conceal from you, Captain," he said, " that I 
 think it will be a mortal duel. Effingham is a bitterly pas 
 sionate man, and hates you profoundly. Come now, my dear 
 fellow, set down that glass of claret." 
 
 The Captain drank it off. 
 
 " Basta ! I've tried all sorts of fighting," he said, " and 
 there's some reason in what you say. But a glass of claret ? 
 Morbleu ! I believe you are laughing." 
 
 " I would not be guilty of laughing, at such a crisis," said 
 Hamilton, " when one, or perhaps two, of my friends are 
 about to fall.' 
 
 " Well, well," said the Captain, ' we shall see." 
 
 And he remained quite composed until the hour of half- 
 past four had arrived. Having the duel thus forced on hijn, 
 the worthy fellow's mind was quite at ease..
 
 244 ON THE GROUND. 
 
 Hamilton had the horses brought, and the two men 
 mounted. 
 
 " Banks' Cross-roads is a good place for a duel," saic 
 Hamilton, sighing. 
 
 " Ah ? " said the Captain, twirling his moustache. 
 
 " lies, my dear fellow yes," replied Hamilton, " it is a 
 most eligible position to fall upon gracefully, you know." 
 
 " I hope to stand up," said the Captain. 
 
 " Well well, it is possible you may not be killed," con 
 tinued his companion, with great commiseration in his voice. 
 " Effingham is probably out of practice, and you stand some 
 chance." 
 
 " Some chance ? I ? " said the Captain, " why, Hamil 
 ton, just as sure as you sit in that saddle, I shall kill or dis 
 arm him. Basta ! he has forced it on me " 
 
 " I am glad you are so confident," said Hamilton, " but I 
 think it my duty to say that Effingharn was considered one 
 of the best swordsmen in London." 
 
 " Was he ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " I'm glad ;" replied the Captain, " all the more satis 
 factory. Let us get on, comrade 1 " 
 
 And putting spurs to his horse, the Captain galloped on 
 ward followed by Hamilton, who looked at bin* when their 
 eyes met with pitying regard. 
 
 They reached the cross-roads just as the Captain's re 
 peater indicated the hour of five. 
 
 Mr. William Effingham, with his friend Thomas Alston, 
 Esq., was standing on a grassy hillock at the point where tho 
 ways meet. 
 
 " Well, my little man," said the Captain, goodnaturedly, 
 " did your brother send you to announce his coming ? " 
 
 " Did you address me, sir ? " asked Mr. William Effing 
 ham, arranging his diminutive frill. 
 
 " Morbleu ! I certainly did, petit monsieur" 
 
 " Be good enough to allow our respective seconds to ar 
 range the preliminaries of the combat," observed Mr. Effing 
 ham, with an important air. 
 
 " Our seconds ! the combat ! the preliminaries 1 " cried 
 the Captain. " Where is Mr. Eninghani?" 
 
 " I am he, sir."
 
 ON THE GROUND, 245 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " You wrote me that answer ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 The Captain laid back on his horse and shook with 
 laughter. Hamilton echoed it. Master Will looked hostile 
 and indignant. 
 
 " You received my letter 1 " cried the Captain. 
 
 " I did, sir." 
 
 " You answered it ? " 
 
 " I have replied to that question already, sir ! " 
 
 " Why, it was directed to your brother, monsieur." 
 
 " It was directed to ' Mr. Effingham,' and that is my 
 name, sir." 
 
 " Lanky gave it to you, then ? " said the Captain, rolling 
 about with laughter. 
 
 " He sent it in by a servant, sir, and I returned my reply 
 through the same channel." 
 
 The Captain remained silent for a moment, then burst 
 ing into a roar of laughter, louder than any previous roar, 
 cried : 
 
 " Well ! mine has been a wild life, full of odd adven 
 tures, but it was left for this day to bring the most splendid 
 comedy to light I ever acted in 1 Basta 1 Did any one 
 ever " 
 
 " Never ! " cried Hamilton. 
 
 " And you were ready to fight me with that huge sword ! " 
 cried the Captain to Mr. William Effingham, who indeed had 
 buckled around his waist his brother's largest rapier. 
 
 " I was, sir," he said. 
 
 " And on what quarrel ? " 
 
 " We are rivals, sir," said Will, " you confess it in your 
 letter." 
 
 " Rivals 1 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 ' How, in heaven's name ? " 
 
 " I am not ignorant, sir," replied Mr. William Effing 
 ham, with lofty dignity, " of the advances you have made ta 
 my cousin, Miss Catherine Effingham. I have not been 
 blind, sir, to the fact, either at the Hall on a former occa 
 sion, when she rode behind you, or at Riverhead, the resi
 
 246 ON THE GROUND. 
 
 dence of Mr. Lee, when you were pleased to compliment hef 
 costume, nor last Saturday, sir, when she hastened to you as 
 you passed upon horseback, near our party, and gave her 
 hand to you. You seem to be about to deny this, sir : it is 
 useless : the death of one of us will end all. Mr. Alston 
 will arrange the terms of the combat with Mr. Hamilton." 
 
 And Mr. William Effingham drew himself up and as 
 sumed an air of noble dignity. 
 
 The Captain and his friend had nearly expired with 
 pent-up laughter during this discourse. But the soldier 
 suppressed his agitation : when his opponent had finished, 
 he replied with a low bow, and in a voice of respectful 
 solemnity : 
 
 " I beg to assure you, Mr. Effingham, that your sus 
 picion that I designed, or now design, paying my addresses 
 to your beautiful cousin, Miss JEffingham, is wholly a mis 
 take. Much as I admire that fair and lovely lady, I should 
 never place myself in your way." 
 
 " Hum 1 " said his enemy. 
 
 " I therefore repeat, and here declare in the presence of 
 yourself, of Mr. Hamilton, and of your friend, Mr. Alston, 
 to whom I beg leave to present the assurance of my highest 
 regard, and most distinguished consideration I repeat, I 
 say, in the presence of all here assembled, that I renounce 
 all pretensions to the hand of Miss Effingham from this 
 time forth. If any paper is necessary to be signed, I will 
 sign it : I will, "parole d'honneur ! morbleu ! " 
 
 And Captain Ralph bowed again, stuffing his frill into 
 his mouth. 
 
 " That is perfectly satisfactory, Captain Waters, and I 
 offer you my friendship," said Will, brightening up. 
 
 " I accept it with delight," said the Captain: and bend 
 ing down, the mortal opponents shook hands. 
 
 " And now I think my hoax has proceeded far enough," 
 said Hamilton, laughing. 
 
 " Your hoax ? " said his friend. 
 
 " All I said the other day, returning from Riverhead, 
 wap a pure invention," said honest Jack, laughing triumph 
 antly, " and now, my dear Don Moustachio, it seems to me 
 that I have paid you for all your practical jokes upon my 
 pelf, at a blow,"
 
 THE READER SHOtTLD NOT OMIT READING. 247 
 
 With which words honest Jack Hamilton laid back and 
 shook triumphantly. 
 
 For a moment the Captain looked indignant : then his 
 face brightened : then he burst into a loud laugh, and cried, 
 holding out his hand : 
 
 " Was ever such a villainous plot so perfectly successful ! 
 Morbleu ! Hamilton, I acknowledge you are my master ! 
 Any feeling of spite, man compagnon, is lost, parbleu ! in 
 admiration of your strategy ! " 
 
 The Captain stopped to return, with great respect, the 
 bows of Mr. Effingham and Mr. Alston, who, mounting their 
 horses, rode off with graceful dignity. 
 
 The Captain looked after them waited until they had 
 disappeared, and then burst into a perfect roar of morbleus, 
 laughter, and delighted appreciation of the whole joke. 
 
 " Tonnere ! Hamilton, you are a great genius ! " he 
 cried, " would any body have suspected from your face, on 
 that ride, that you were tricking me ! Morbleu, mon ami ! 
 I consider it equal to any thing in ancient or modern his 
 tory." 
 
 Mr. Hamilton assumed a modest and deprecatory ex 
 pression. 
 
 " No no," he replied, mildly. 
 
 " There you are ! " cried the Captain, ({ your face is like 
 a woman's, when she says, ' I will consider your proposal, sir 
 la. ' Diable ! let us start equal again : after this, war to 
 the death ! " 
 
 And the Captain rode onward with his companion, toward 
 the Trap. 
 
 " To-morrow well, we shall see 1 " he muttered, as he 
 rode home that evening, " the scaling ladders are ready 1 " 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 W?IOH THE EEADEE SHOULD BY NO MEANS OMIT EEADDI&. 
 
 " THE reader will, no dou^t, be able to comprehend without 
 difficulty, what Captain Ralph meant when he informed 
 himself confidentially that the scaling ladders were ready
 
 24S > TCti TttE READER SHOULD N0 OMlt READING. 
 
 The malicious communication of the Seigneur Mort-Reynard 
 had made him feel very doubtful whether he could plant the 
 instruments of assault securely: he looked through the 
 Seigneur's spectacles and saw a dangerous enemy upon the 
 citadel, ready to pour down on his devoted head, fire and 
 boiling oil, and all deadly implements of warfare. 
 
 " But now all this had been cleared away the enemy 
 had turned out no enemy at all : and that was the explana 
 tion of the Captain's speech. 
 
 " On the next day, he donned his most dangerous 
 weapons, and cased himself in his most war proof armor; 
 then with trumpets sounding, and banners flying, advanced 
 to the assault." 
 
 Thus does the author of the manuscript, in that prac 
 tical style of which he is so fond, chronicle the fact that 
 Captain Ralph Waters set out for Riverhead with the in 
 tention of making a matrimonial demonstration. We sus 
 pect that the l< dangerous weapons and war-proof armor,'- 
 were only smiles and (hair) powder, and moustaches gallantly 
 curled : that the " trumpets sounding," were simply the 
 soldier's habitual ditty, ending in " ta, la! ta, la ! " lastly, 
 that the "banners flying," 'were a pure figment of the 
 author's imagination. 
 
 It is not now necessary to chronicle the details of the 
 interview: we shall more directly arrive at its result by 
 looking over the Captain's shoulder as he writes having 
 returned in the afternoon from Riverhead, with an expression 
 of countenance far from downcast. 
 
 Seated at the rude table of the cottage, and making a 
 tremendous scratching with his pen, which he handles much 
 after the fashion of a sword, the soldier writes these words : 
 while Lanky, seated in a corner, his day's work finished 
 looks on admiringly. 
 
 " DEAR SIR, FRIEND AND COMPANION : 
 
 " Not simply ' sir,' because you are what I have 
 written friend, companion. Let me out with what I would 
 write at once and in the best manner I can write it, being 
 out a rude soldier, unused to handling the pen. 
 
 " With great respect, dear sir, *nd companion, I would
 
 WHICH THE READER SHOULD NOT OMIT READING. 249 
 
 ask permission to pay my addresses to your charming 
 daughter, Henrietta. 
 
 " This may surprise you, and " the Captain earsed a 
 ' morbleu ' here " aiid I confess you have some reason : but 
 I have not fought all those battles. G-latz and Lissa and the 
 rest, with you, and found no enemy myself, but a courteous 
 host, Alas, mon ami ! I am defeated wholly : can't hold 
 up my head, and come to you and say I am conquered. 
 
 " Let me speak of myself first that, it seems to me, is 
 necessary, being almost a stranger in the land. You know 
 my family an honest one, I think, at least I am accustomed 
 to regard it such. I am not ashamed, rather proud of it 
 thus much in justice to myself. 
 
 " I was quite young when, led by the spirit of adventure 
 which God plants in the bosoms of the youthful, I left Vir 
 ginia, to which land, through all my wanderings, my heart 
 turned with filial devotion. I went to Europe. I entered 
 his Majesty's service, in which I continued until the peace 
 of Fontainbleau, with an intermission of two years two 
 years which now live in my memory as the brightest period 
 of a rude, wandering life, crammed wifch a thousand vicissi 
 tudes, a host of emotions, for the most part emotions of glad 
 triumph and success. 
 
 " Those two years saw n:e married to a good wife, a ten 
 der heart, one of those natures which God sends upon thie 
 earth to bless the lives of us rude soldiers and soften them. 
 I had the unhappiness to lose my wife ; the hand of Provi 
 dence took her from me, and, to my great regret, I had nc 
 children to remind me of that so long-loved companion. Well 
 well, let me pass on : that wound has healed or nearly. 
 
 " I plunged into war again. I exhausted its delights, 
 and they are not slight, sir, with all the blood and wounds, 
 and suffering. I returned hither to Virginia, led by the 
 never-dying sentiment of love of country. I only sojourned 
 in Europe ; this was my home. All that I retained of those 
 years of battles and marches, and countermarches, was the 
 title by which I am usually addressed. I was discharged. 
 I left his Majesty's service, which I heartily rejoice and thank 
 heaven for, the great Frederic not being a commander to my 
 taste. 
 
 " Upon her death-bed, my wife, whom God bless and
 
 250 WHICH THE READER SHOULD NOT C1HIT READING. 
 
 make eternally happy, as she made me happy in this life, often 
 pillowing my rude head, when I was wounded, on her bosom 
 my wife charged me to marry again, saying, that marriage 
 made me better, curbing my natural propensity to wander, 
 and making a quiet citizen of me, which is true Ah ! sir, 
 she was a good wife and I am a better man, for that brief 
 dream of happiness. Enough ! 
 
 " In relation to my worldly goods, let me adopt the Euro 
 pean custom and omit nothing. I am not poor, thanks to 
 some guilders gathered in my profession and what my wife 
 left to me. 
 
 " I, therefore, ask that my addresses may receive your 
 sanction ; I am convinced your daughter does not regard me 
 with indifference, and this I had abundant proof of on this 
 very day. Enough of that ; but this I add, that before ad 
 dressing myself to you, I would receive no avowal from Mad 
 emoiselle Henrietta, binding her. I trust 'tis what eve-ry 
 honorable man would do. 
 
 " You have it all, friend and companion ; you know ma 
 for what I am, a rude soldier, but a loyal man. Speak. 
 " Always your friend, 
 
 " RALPH WATERS." 
 
 The Captain wrote this letter without thought, as he would 
 /have spoken : and sealed it without reading it. 
 
 He then summoned Lanky, and placing it in his hands 
 bade that unfortunate messenger deliver it to none but Mr 
 Lee himself, waiting an answer. 
 
 Lanky returned in three hours. 
 
 " Well ? 
 
 " Answer to-morrow, sir." 
 
 Good ! " 
 
 And Captain Ralph sat down composedly, and leaning 
 his head upon his hand, seemed to be thinking of some old 
 days, upon the Rhine it seemed, and of a woman ; for his 
 lips murmured : " a good wife God take her to himself ! " 
 
 Early on the next day a servant brought a letter, which 
 the Captain tore open at once. It contained these words 
 imply . 
 
 " I accede to the request of Captain Waters. I know
 
 CAPT. RALPH AND HENRIETTA TOOK A DRIVE. 25 
 
 him for a brave soldier, and a most honorable man. I ask 
 nothing more. The rest lies with my daughter. 
 
 WINSTONE LEE." 
 
 The Captain raised his head, and Lanky started back it 
 the radiant expression of his countenance. 
 
 " Oh ! Cap'n ! " he murmured. 
 
 *' Lanky, my dear fellow," said the Captain, " I think your 
 chances for the cottage are bad very bad." 
 
 " Oh ! Cap'n ! why ? " 
 
 " I am going to be married myself," said the soldier, u go 
 and saddle my horse ! " 
 
 And Captain Ralph twirled his moustaches with a look 
 of such triumph and happiness that Lanky was consoled. 
 
 His master's joy was his own. 
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 HOW CAPTAIN RALPH AND HENRIETTA TOOK A DRIVE TOGETHER 
 AND WHAT FOLLOWED. 
 
 As we did not consider it necessary to relate the particu 
 lars of the Captain's last interview with Miss Henrietta Lee, 
 so we shall for the same reason omit any description of the 
 final and decisive assault, to adopt the phrase of the author 
 of the manuscript from which these events are taken. 
 
 We can only say that when the soldier issued forth from 
 the mansion of Riverhead his countenance was more radiant 
 than ever, and that he twirled his moustaches toward the eye 
 with an obstinate vigor which caused them to yield in spite 
 of themselves and assume the killing air in absolute perfection. 
 
 On the very next day the gallant Captain might have 
 been seen again before the door of Mr. Lee's mansion, this 
 time seated in a handsome curricle drawn by his handsome 
 roan. It was a beautiful morning, and the white gravelled 
 walk glittered in the sun, the firm heel of the soldier clash 
 ing on it, as with jingling spurs his old habit could not 
 yield to change he entered the wide portal. 
 
 Iu half an hour he emerged again, and this time with
 
 252 CAPT. RALPH AND HENRIETTA TOOK A t)RIVfi. 
 
 Miss Henrietta on his arm. That young lady was a;i radiant 
 as the morning : her eyes shone brilliantly, and her rich 
 dress was dimmed by the bright color of her cheeks. 
 
 The Captain assisted her into the vehicle, followed, and, 
 gathering up the reins, set forward towards the cottage. 
 
 For some time they rode in silence : nothing was said 
 but at last Captain Ralph shook his head and sighed. 
 
 " It is not agreeable," he said ; " no, it is repugnant." 
 
 " What ? " she asked in a low tone, looking inquiringly 
 at his disconsolate face. 
 
 " This thing of taking you from the abode of wealth and 
 comfort morbleu ! from the bower of ease and elegance, my 
 dear Miss Henrietta, to the humble cottage which I un 
 happy that I am ! inhabit." 
 
 And the soldier groaned. 
 
 " I thought we had dismissed that subject," she said i\ 
 the same low tone. 
 
 " Yes," said Captain Ealph, sighing again, " I understand. 
 You, my dear wife to be, are one of those noble natures who 
 can adapt themselves to any thing. Yes, I fully believed you 
 when you said yester ay with that charming sincerity which, 
 parbleu ! is the most graceful and delightful trait of your charm 
 ing and admirable character, ma chere, when you said you would 
 not marry for mere wealth : and if the man of your choice 
 had it not, that you wwuld forget all and follow him to the 
 world's end, you said : alas 1 " 
 
 And Captain Ralph uttered a groan which seemed to in 
 dicate an overburdened heart. 
 
 " Yes," he continued, " I understand how it is that having 
 cast a favorable regard upon the poor soldier, and seen that-, 
 he is honest and loyal, and likely to be faithful for ever and 
 the day after, my dear Henrietta I can understand that you 
 with your grand abnegation of self, weighed his worldly posi 
 tion as nothing : which, morbleu ! is oftenerdone by our ho- 
 aest Virginia girls than people can be brought to admit. I 
 can comprehend all that but the fact of my abject poverty 
 none the less wounds and mortifies me." 
 
 With which words the lady's companion twirled his 
 moustache forlornly. 
 
 " You make me feel badly by speaking thus," said Hen 
 rietta, turning aside her head.
 
 RALPfi AN: HENRIETTA TOOK A DRIVE. 253 
 
 " Badly ? " 
 
 " Indeed you do," she murmured. 
 
 " I am sorry." he said, crying ; " but it is proper for me 
 to say a few words more, ma chfrre! Do you see that 
 horse ? " 
 
 " Yes," she said, in a low voice. 
 
 " Does he look human ?" continued the Captain, discon 
 lately. 
 
 " Human ? " 
 
 " Like a man," explained the soldier. 
 
 The lady looked at him in astonishment. 
 
 " Ah, I see," said the Captain, " you don't understand 
 That horse, ina chtre, is a man." 
 
 " A man ! " 
 
 " Yes, and his name is Von der Dank," said the Captain 
 gravely. 
 
 " Oh ! " said Henrietta. 
 
 w Nothing but the truth. Does he not belong to that 
 respectable merchant of Rotterdam, and am I not in fact 
 driving the worthy Von der Dank in harness ? 'Tis positive 
 ly unchristian." 
 
 And nettled at his own bad feeling, the Captain laid the 
 lash across the representative of Mynheer Von der Dank, 
 who tossed his head and flew along gallantly. 
 
 " Then not content with driving Von der Dank," conti 
 nued the soldier, " I must commit the further impropriety 
 of running the pasha Omer at the races. Selim, my dear 
 Henrietta, is an Arabian whom I stole in the Orient from 
 the pasha it is humiliating to confess it : but there should 
 be no secrets between us." 
 
 Henrietta looked at her companion with wide eyes. 
 
 " True, every word true," said the Captain, sighing ; 
 " and to drive Von der Dank in harness, and run the pasha 
 Omer for the amusement of a crowd of Christian dogs as 
 they call us seems to me nothing less than sheep stealing 
 or what my servant Lanky fancies the highest disgrace 
 henroost robbing." 
 
 The Captain's head drooped. 
 
 " You are jesting," murmured Henrietta ; " surely oh 
 how foolish I am to mind you." 
 
 " Jesting ? I wish I was : 'tis too sad a subject however 
 And that is not all."
 
 5,64 CAPT. RALPH AND HENRIETTA tOOK A DRItl. 
 
 " Not all ? " 
 
 " Do you see that necklace around your neck ? But of 
 course you do." 
 
 " Yes," said Henrietta, scarcely knowing what to say. 
 
 " Well, my soul ! that neck ace represents Simpkins & 
 Co., of the port of New York. You are wearing Simpkins 
 around your neck his arms encircle you. Just think 
 of it ! " 
 
 And the Captain groaned with jealousy and mortifi 
 cation. 
 
 " Don't answer me," he continued, " my feelings are 
 poignant enough already. Let us get on to my hovel which 
 you see in the distance yonder. Von der Dank, proceed my 
 friend ! " and he lashed the worthy merchant ; " the pasha 
 awaits you in the stable, and you carry, in addition to your 
 master and his bride, the firm of Simpkins that I should be 
 alive to say it ! " 
 
 The roan seemed to be very well content with his enor 
 mous load, and the bright curricle flashed on under the green 
 boughs and through the sunlight : and ere long stopped be 
 fore the door of the cottage. 
 
 Lanky stood there, louting low, his cap in his hand. 
 
 The Captain assisted Henrietta out, and pointing to 
 Lanky, who was holding the animal, said : 
 
 " That, my dear Henrietta, is the gentleman who made 
 my fortune." 
 
 " Then you have a fortune after all," laughed the young 
 girl, good-hum oredly. 
 
 " No, no, I mean that Lanky was the means of my win 
 ning you my pearl, what do I say 1 my rose, my dia 
 mond ! " 
 
 " Pray how ? " 
 
 " He is the lover of Donsy." 
 
 " Donsy ? 
 
 " Donsy Smith." 
 
 " Indeed ! " 
 
 " Yes, yes." said the Captain, " and but for him I shoula 
 have laid my heart perhaps, who knows ? at that charming 
 voung lady's feet." 
 
 " Indeed ! " said Henrietta with something like a pout
 
 CAPT. RALPH AND HENRIETTA TOOK A DRIVE. 25& 
 
 " Yes, verily and in truth tit verite, as they have it over 
 yonder. But his affections having been engaged by the said 
 Donsy, you may fancy that I was far too honorable to interfere. 
 Honor is all I have left now," the Captain groaned. 
 
 And he led the young girl into the rude house. 
 
 " Look around," he said. 
 
 Henrietta obeyed. 
 
 " Is it not humiliating ? " 
 
 " No," she said. 
 
 " Look at that table." 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Contemplate those chairs." 
 
 " Well," repeated Henrietta, in the same good-humored 
 voice. 
 
 " Deign to survey those rafters, from which heaven pre 
 serve us ! dangle strings of onions, and material, unpoetical 
 bacon flitches." 
 
 " They look very nice," said Henrietta, laughing. 
 
 The Captain groaned. 
 
 " And to take you from your wealthy and elegant abode 
 to such a hut," he said. 
 
 " I suppose I am content," she said, cheerfully. 
 
 " A lady eat onions 1 " cried the Captain. 
 
 " I did not promise that," she laughed. 
 
 " A lady partake of bacon ! " 
 
 " I believe a great many ladies do daily." 
 
 " A lady sit upon chairs like those at such a table as 
 that ! " 
 
 " They are very nice to rest in, and my wrapping is very 
 well here," said Henrietta, sitting down, and laying her Bilk 
 pelisse upon the rude pine table. 
 
 The Captain shook his head, sighing piteously. 
 
 " That is all affectation, ma chere," he said, forlornly. 
 
 " Indeed 'tis not." 
 
 " Yes, yes." 
 
 " I am perfectly contented." 
 
 " With your future abode ? " 
 
 " Yes," she said simply. 
 
 The Captain uttered a sigh. 
 
 "It wounds me," he said, "to the very heart thus to 
 drag down the star of my life. But how can I help it ? "
 
 256 CAFT. RALPH AND HENRIETTA TOOK A DRIVE. 
 
 " I am glad I am a star," said Henrietta, smiling, " but 1 
 do not feel as if I were dragged down." 
 
 " All devotion grandeur : it springs from your woman'* 
 nature. Just look around just look at that pine knot i < 
 the door." 
 
 "Pine knot?" 
 
 " Yes, yes ; at my scaramouch at Lanky." 
 
 She laughed. 
 
 " This is your future mistress, Lanky," said the Captaii 
 
 The pine knot louted low. 
 
 " I am very glad to see you, Lanky, and to make you* 
 acquaintance," said Henrietta, holding out her hand, with & 
 charming smile. 
 
 Lanky colored, and did not dare to take the hand. 
 
 " Won't you shake hands ? " said Henrietta, smiling. 
 
 Lanky trembled and approached. 
 
 " Oh, ma'am ! " he said. 
 
 And he found his huge paw inclosed in a soft white hand, 
 like velvet, which pressed it kindly. 
 
 Lanky disappeared, staggering with delight. 
 
 " Look at him ! " sighed the Captain ; " see the differ 
 ence between that ridiculous country bumpkin, in his striped 
 stockings and fustian waistcoat, and the well-fed butler you 
 are accustomed to see, Henrietta." 
 
 " I like Lanky the best," she said, smiling ; " he seems 
 very honest." 
 
 " Yes, yes, a ban gargon, and would die for me." 
 
 " Then," said Henrietta, simply, " I shall like him more 
 than ever." 
 
 The Captain's martial face was illuminated with a look 
 of pride and happiness which changed it instantly, and made 
 it radiant. 
 
 " Morbleu ! Henrietta," he cried, " you are the pearl of 
 your sex, the queen of the heart, as you are the queen of 
 beauty ! And can you consent to leave your father's house, 
 with all its elegance, its comfort, its quiet pleasure and soft 
 repose, to become the inmate of this cabin, the wife of the 
 rude soldier who stands before you ? Can you bid adieu to 
 every brilliant scene, to all your past life, spent in the midst 
 of so much ease, even splendor, to light up my poor hut with 
 your smiles my life with your fair and beautiful eyes?
 
 OAPT. RALPH AND HENRIETTA TOOK A DRIVE. 257 
 
 Can you consent to take a poor soldier, a rough adventurer, 
 a common fellow, with nothing but a loyal heart ? " 
 
 She murmured, " Yes." 
 
 " You cannot leave that position without struggle, 
 however," he continued. " Does it not rend your heart tc 
 descend so low to leave Riverhead for this cottage to 
 become the mistress of a hovel ? Can you look with equa 
 nimity upon a future where no sun shines, where you must 
 contend with common, coarse, material obstacles- v/ith vulgar 
 want, and struggle on without casting a singk longing look 
 back on your past ? " 
 
 " Yes," she said, putting her hand in his, '* I have you," 
 
 " Shall I put the roan up, sir? " said Lanky, appearing at 
 the door. 
 
 " No," sighed the Captain, relapsing into gloom ; " wo 
 will return." 
 
 And offering his arm to Henrietta, he passed through 
 the door, and slowly assisted her into the vehicle again, 
 sighing. 
 
 " Suppose we take a short driire befoie returning," ho 
 said. 
 
 She nodded good-humoredly. 
 
 The Captain only groaned in reply, and lashed his horse, 
 who set off like lightning upon the smooth road leading up 
 the river. 
 
 " Your gloom distresses roc," said Henrietta, in a low 
 voice; "for heaven's sake forget these mere worldly circum 
 stances ; they do not affect me for a moment. I would not 
 have given my hand to the richest gentleman in the land for 
 his riches only. Why should I estimate what I do not value 
 so highly ? Look at the sunlight, and hear the birds singing. 
 We enjoy them as much as though we were a king and 
 queen ; and I think the river singing down upon the shore 
 is happiness enough ! " 
 
 And she looked as perfectly happy and contented as it is 
 possible to conceive. 
 
 The Captain only sighed, and shook his head, mur 
 muring : 
 
 " You are a noble heart." 
 
 " Indeed I'm not, 1 ' she replied, cheerfully, " but I am fw
 
 258 CAPT. RALPH AND HENRIETTA TOOK A DRIVE. 
 
 more than contented. And, besides, father will not let ua 
 want any thing you forget that." 
 
 " Oh ! " groaned the Captain, " that is too humiliating ! 
 A strong-armed soldier like me marrying for money ! Do 
 not speak of it, Henrietta it is dreadful. I did not seek 
 your money if you have any of that disagreeable com 
 modity the Shakespearian word, I believe. I hate and 
 despise what is vulgarly called cash 1 " 
 
 And in the excess of his wrath at finding that hia future 
 wiffe would probably have a large fortune on her marriage, the 
 Captain lashed the roan until that unfortunate animal fairly 
 flew. 
 
 " Let us not speak further on this subject," he added ; 
 " let us enjoy the landscape. See the river see those noble 
 mansions crowning the fine hills. Parbleu ! the goods of 
 this wicked world particularly of that wickedest portion, 
 Virginia are not equally divided. Now it seems to me 
 that I ought to have one of those fine houses. Society owes 
 me a house and plantation. I will establish a school of 
 politics with that cardinal principle. I will become agrarian. 
 I want land." 
 
 Henrietta smiled. 
 
 " We can do very well without it," she said. 
 
 " Contemplate the fine old houses," continued the Cap 
 tain, sighing ; " look at the smiling fields I covet thos 
 fields, I break the tenth commandment horribly, morbleu 1 ' 
 
 " The whole ? " asked Henrietta, smiling. 
 
 " Yes, yes." 
 
 " Do you covet your neighbor's Tife ? " she laughed. 
 
 The Captain smiled sadly. 
 
 " No, no ; I believe you have me there." he said ; " 1 
 don't want any wife but the one who will soon be mine 
 legally, and I may add, equitably in fee-simple." 
 
 And having made this great display of legal knowledge, 
 the Captain stopped sighing. 
 
 " See what a fine house across the river," he added. 
 
 " Yes ; but I think Mr. Wilt's, here, is far prettier." 
 
 " No, no." 
 
 " Indeed, I think it is." 
 
 " Well, I have a moment's business with that gentleman 
 Will you go in ? "
 
 OAPT. RALPH AMD HENRIETTA TOOK A DRIVE. 259 
 
 " Oh yes." 
 
 A quarter of a mile was passed over, and the vehicle 
 stopped at the door of one of those fine old mansions we 
 have heard the Captain covet. It fairly smiled in the bright 
 May sunlight, with its gables, dormer windows, and old 
 trees. 
 
 An aged negro came to the door, and held the horse re 
 spectfully for the soldier. He assisted Henrietta out, and 
 they entered. 
 
 " Why, they have new furniture," she said : " I know all 
 about ' Flodden,' and it looks very much changed." 
 
 " Ah ! " 
 
 " Yes indeed ! how strange 1 but how handsome it is." 
 
 They went into the parlor, and the well-fed butler stood 
 bowing. 
 
 " James," said Henrietta ; but stopping, she added, 
 " why, it is not James ? " 
 
 " My name is Thomas, madam," said the courteous black 
 gentleman, not seeing the Captain's signals of wrath. 
 
 " Thomas ! why where is old James ? " 
 
 " He went away, they tell me, ma'am, with Squire Wilts." 
 
 " Went away 1 " 
 
 " The squire done moved to his t'other house up the riv 
 er, ma'ain, and master there done bought the place ' Flod- 
 ing ' I b'lieve they calls it/' 
 
 Suddenly Thomas started and shook : he saw the wrath 
 ful eyes of the soldier on him. 
 
 Henrietta could say nothing ; the whole flashed on her ; 
 she only looked in silence at the Captain. 
 
 " Yes, my dearest Henrietta," said that gentleman, " I un 
 derstand what you would say. You mean that I have de 
 ceived you and, morbleu ! you are perfectly right. But 
 ah ! I could not deny myself that scene at the cottage I 
 could not oinit such pleasure. It was not to try you. Oh 
 no ! parole d'honneur ! I felt that useless. But in this 
 world we cannot get too much happiness, and in your devotion 
 to your rude soldier, there was such happiness as he has sel 
 dom experienced in this wicked world. 
 
 " Yes," continued the Captain, " ' Flodden ' is my home 
 now, the squire having disposed of it privately to me, taking 
 in exchange for it some twelve thousand pounds I had lying
 
 260 MR. EFFINGHAM STARTS WITH ASTON. SHMENT.' 
 
 idle. Let me embrace the opportunity further to assure you 
 ma ckere, that Van der Dank, the pasha, and the Mew- York 
 firm, are all honestly paid the animals aro mine, the brace 
 let yours. We have enough, thank Heaven, to live quietly 
 upon, and you will not be compelled, my dearest Henrietta, 
 to descend as low as onions." 
 
 With which words the Captain, laughing, full of prido 
 and delight, smoothed softly the head that lay upon his 
 shoulder. 
 
 " Now we shall return in a different manner," he said ; 
 and he gave an order to the butler. 
 
 That gentleman bowed low and vanished. 
 
 A quarter of an hour afterwards, a magnificent chariot 
 drove up to the door, drawn by four horses, whose bright 
 coats and resetted heads shone in the merry sunlight. 
 
 The Captain led the young girl forth, and assisted her 
 into the coach : then followed. The courteous black butler 
 bowed the old superannuated hostler smiled; for he liked 
 the frank face of the soldier ; and the vehicle set off at a 
 gallop. Captain Ralph was partial to rapid motion. 
 
 They did not speak for some moments ; then the soldier 
 
 " But how are you pleased with your house, ma che're ? " 
 " Very much," she said, smiling j " but I like the cottage 
 
 and Lanky best, I think ! " 
 
 Which caused the Captain to burst into laughter. In two 
 
 hours they reached ' Riverhead.' 
 
 CHAPTER XLIII. 
 
 IN WHICH MB. EFFENGHAM 8TABT8 WITH ASTONISHMENT. 
 
 ' MY goodness ! " said Kate. 
 
 Will looked dignified. 
 
 " Did you really now ? " continued the mistress of his 
 heart. 
 
 " Yes,madam," replied Will. 
 
 " Who would have thought of such a thing but you I Gra 
 cious ! it almost takes my breath away to think of it 1 " 
 
 And Kate placed her hand upon her breast and gasped,
 
 MR. EFFINGHAM STARTS WITH ASTONISHMENT. 261 
 
 and panted in a manner which was delightful to behold ; hei 
 eyes dancing all the while, her utterance struggling with 
 pent-up laughter. 
 
 Miss Kate Effingham, and Mr., otherwise Captain Wil 
 liam Effingham, patriotic leader of the Cornstalk regiment 
 of Virginia Volunteers, exchanged these observations on the 
 day after the scene at the Cross Roads. Kate was sitting 
 at the harpsichord whereon she had been playing ; Master 
 Willie was perched upon the table, from which he dangled 
 his dignified legs, clad in their silk stockings and pumps 
 which latter were ornamented with huge rosettes and silver 
 buckles. 
 
 Kate's hair flowed on her shoulders, which were bare, 
 and from time to time she removed it from her rosy cheeks, 
 and placed it behind her ears ; her white arms were bare to 
 the shoulder nearly : she was clad in intense pink, and wore 
 golden clocks. She had been singing a song of which the 
 following is a specimen, as nearly accurate as possible : 
 
 " 'Tis in the field the farmer goes, 
 And there his seed the farmer sows, 
 But you nor I nor nobody knows 
 How oats, peas, beans, or barley grows :" 
 
 and during this pleasant ditty, Master Will had been kick 
 ing his heels to keep the time. 
 
 He had then startled Kate, by relating his abortive at 
 tempt to murder his rival, and thus the exclamation, " My 
 goodness ! " and the further observation, " gracious 1 " had 
 been produced. After this accurate and detailed description 
 of the circumstances of the interview, we may proceed to 
 hear what the devoted lovers are saying. 
 
 " I'm sorry it takes your breath away to think of it," 
 said Will, with dignity ; " but that's the way you always treat 
 me. I never can please you : here I am running my life 
 into danger for you, and you only laugh at me." 
 
 " Goodness gracious ! " cried Kate, " I didn't." 
 
 " You did." 
 
 " Very well, sir, Tommy Alston never contradicts me." 
 
 " There, you are going to drive me distracted with that 
 gawky Alston." 
 
 " Gawky 1 hum 1
 
 262 MR. EFF1NGHAM STARTS WITH ASTONISHMENT 
 
 And Kate pouted. 
 
 " You know he is ! " 
 
 " He is'nt a bit." 
 
 " Now you are contradicting me," observed Will, with 
 great good sense 
 
 " Well, you deserve it : you know you do. Tommy was 
 a great deal more attentive to me at the picnic than you 
 and you would have let Jim Crow take my candy but 'it 
 wouldn't.'' 
 
 Will felt that this charge was unjust, and, not being able 
 to contradict Kate, determined to go and challenge Mr. Al 
 ston immediately. He rose for that purpose. 
 
 " Where are you going ? " said Kate. 
 
 " I am going to make your Mr. Alston give me satisfac 
 tion." 
 
 " Satisfaction ! Oh mo I" 
 
 " Yes, madam." 
 
 "To fight?" 
 
 " Immediately." 
 
 And Will made a motion to go. 
 
 " Oh Willie 1 " cried Kate, holding him back. 
 
 "Before night one of us shall sleep in death 1" cried 
 Willie, looking concentrated daggers. 
 
 Kate uttered a scream. 
 
 " Willie, you frighten me to death ! " she cried, " I was 
 only joking. You were very good to me at the picnic ; and 
 I didn't mind that foolish little fellow, Jim. Didn't he turn 
 funny summersets ? My gracious ! just to think of him 
 makes me die o' laughing." 
 
 And Kate burst into such a ringing peal of laughter that 
 Willie's hostile ideas disappeared like mist before the sun. 
 
 ' What a fine time we had ! " said Kate, struggling not 
 to laugh all her words into stammerings ; " only think of the 
 drummer, too ! and Johnny Booker, from the Bowling Green, 
 and the way Jim Crow ate that pie 1 " 
 
 " It was splendid 1 " said Will, whose spirits were re 
 stored completely. 
 
 "And it wasn't far from where you were going to fight 
 that ridiculous duel," observed 
 
 Will's face clouded, 
 
 " Ridiculous ? "
 
 MR. EFFINGHAM STARTS WITH ASTONISHMENT. 265 
 
 " Yes : did any body ever hear the like ? Of course, 
 I'm flattered, and all for your doing it for me ; but to think 
 Captain Waters was courting me. It was too funny." 
 
 " Funny !" said Will, with dignity ; " Mr. Waters did 
 not think so, madam. He formally renounced all claims 
 to your hand." 
 
 " He was laughing at you." 
 
 " Laughing ! laugLing ! laughing ! " cried Will, with 
 increased indignation, " he shall explain ! " 
 
 And he would have rushed forth. 
 
 "Oh, Willie! Willie!" cried Kate in despair, and 
 holding him tight ; " you will kill me : I am very nervous 
 and sensitive." 
 
 "fLaughing 1 " 
 
 And Willie struggled. 
 
 " Oh no ! he couldn't have laughed at you," said Kate, 
 " for he is a very good-humored gentleman, and he must 
 have felt that you were doing a brave action, Willie. Come 
 now, let us make friends." 
 
 Will shook his head. 
 
 " Oh Willie ! " pleaded Kate, " to refuse me who who 
 love you so much ! " 
 
 And Kate slew him with her eyes. 
 
 Will still hesitated. 
 
 " You say you love me ?" 
 
 " Yes, indeed ! so much ! " 
 
 " How will you prove it ? " 
 
 " By any thing you ask." 
 
 Will looked triumphant, and drew from his breast thv 
 true-love indenture, which he unrolled. At sight of it, Kate 
 drew back, laughing. 
 
 " You said you'd do any thing," said Will. 
 
 " Oh ! not that 1 " 
 
 " There is a pen on the table; now, Kate, keep your 
 promise." 
 
 " Oh ! I cannot ! " Kate cried, laughing, and wringing 
 her hands, and assuming an air as of one about to cry. 
 
 Will moved toward the door. 
 
 " Oh ! you are going to fight a duel," said Kate ; " it 
 is my duty to prevent bloodshed ! " 
 
 And, seizing the pen, she affixed the words " Ka*.e Ef
 
 264 MR. EFFINttfiAM STARTS WITH ASTONISHMENT. 
 
 fingham " to the flower- and heart-ornamented love indenture. 
 "There!" she said, throwing down the pen, "will that 
 satisfy you ? " 
 
 " That is sufficient ! " said Will ; " now for one kiss ! " 
 
 " One kiss, sir ? " 
 
 " It is habitual," said Will, with dignity ; " engaged 
 people always kiss." 
 
 And he opened his arms to clasp his mistress to his 
 heart. The fair Chloe fled, however, from the outstretched 
 arms, and they closed on air. 
 
 In running out, Kate struck against Mr. Hamilton, who 
 was coming in ; whereupon Willie assumed an expression of 
 dignity, and rolling up his indenture, was content. 
 
 Kate, however, distrusted this dignified deportment, 
 and, bidding Mr. Hamilton a laughing good-morning, con 
 tinued her flight some way upon the lawn, her hair stream 
 ing, her feet tripping merrily. 
 
 She paused finally under an oak, and looked back ; Will 
 was not pursuing ; and, satisfied upon this point, she began 
 singing, and so wandered on until she reached a sort of 
 summer-house in the dell, a favorite resort of Mr. Effingham. 
 
 She found him there now, reading, his brow resting on 
 his hand, the flowering vines falling around him as he half 
 reclined upon the trellis work. 
 
 Kate stole behind him, and before he knew it leaned her 
 head upon his shoulder, and uttered a little, quiet laugh. 
 
 The pale face was raised from the volume, and, leaning 
 his head upon that of the child, his old pensive smile came 
 to his lips. 
 
 " What are you reading, cousin ? " asked Kate 
 
 " The writings of Steele," he said ; " and now I suppose 
 you are quite as much in the dark as ever." 
 
 " Oh no ! I read once a very pretty piece he wrote." 
 
 " What was it ? " 
 
 " I don't know, but it is in the other volume : where he 
 tells how he cried when his father, I believe it was, died, 
 and had a battledore ; and his mother was crying, too, I 
 think. Poor fellow ! " 
 
 Mr. Effingham smiled. 
 
 " I Delieve these children criticise better than we men
 
 DIAGNOSIS AND TREATMENT OF DR. MORT-IlEYNARD. 265 
 
 do," he murmured ; " but, Kate," he continued, " don't 
 you like his merry pieces better ? " 
 
 " I think I do ; but you know I don't know any thing 
 about London, or any cities." 
 
 " I am glad you do not ; you shall grow up a pretty lit 
 tle flower of the woods." 
 
 " Thankee ; I'm not a weed, I'd have you to know 
 cousin Champ." 
 
 " The lily of the valley and the violet are not weeds,' 
 he said, musing, as he looked at the bright face. 
 
 " Oh please, come, gather some violets with me ? '* said 
 Kate. 
 
 " Oh certainly," he said, smiling, and the man and the 
 child were soon bending down over the grassy banks of the 
 stream for all sorts of flowers. They spent half an hour in 
 this occupation, and then slowly returned to the Hall, which 
 was hidden from the summer-house by a clump of trees. 
 
 Kate ran in, crying out, and admiring her nosegay. Mr. 
 Effingham followed. 
 
 He did not see a horse tied near the gate : he did not 
 observe a hat in the hall of the mansion. 
 
 He opened the door of the library, and witnessed a spec 
 tacle which made him start. It is necessary that even the 
 chronicle should pause before proceeding to describe the 
 enormity. Let us commence a new chapter. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 DIAGNOSIS AND TREATMENT OF DR. MORT-REYNARD. 
 
 MR EFFINGHAM beheld the Seigneur Mort-Reynard, other 
 wise Mr. John Hamilton, that incorrigible bachelor, fox- 
 hunter, and rival, in the act of impressing a chaste salute 
 upon the lips of Miss Alethea ! 
 
 So far from betraying any astonishment or indignation at 
 this outrageous proceeding, the stately Miss Alethea, serene 
 and shining in black silk, appeared to regard it as a matter 
 of course, and submitted to it with an equanimity which was 
 refreshing to behold. She betrayed some embarrassment
 
 266 DIAGNOSIS AND TREATMENT OF DR. MORT-REYNARD. 
 
 upon Mr. Effingham's sudden entrance, and a slight coloi 
 came to her cheeks ; but that was all. 
 
 Not. so Mr. Jack Hamilton. That gentleman presented 
 the painful spectacle of a man caught in the act of filching a 
 sheep from its rightful owner : he avoided Mr. Effingham's 
 eje : he drew back from Miss Alethea : he considered the 
 feasibility of disappearing up the chimney, or through the 
 window at a bound. 
 
 At last he seemed suddenly to recover his powers of lo 
 comotion: he stammered some hasty words, and bursting 
 into a roar of laughter, thrust a letter into Miss Alethea's 
 hands, and took to flight. In ten minutes he was seen gal 
 loping away like a deserter. 
 
 Mr. Effingham, with flushed face, and haughty looks, 
 stood silently gazing at Miss Alethea. 
 
 " Yon needn't show such great astonishment, Champ," 
 said Miss Alethea, calmly smoothing her hair, which, we 
 regret to say, was somewhat disordered, ' : Mr. Hamilton and 
 myself have been engaged for half a year. I suppose there 
 is something for you in this letter : it is directed to you. 
 How foolish in Mr. Hamilton to be running away so : he is 
 incorrigible. Well, there is the letter : I must go now and 
 attend to my housekeeping." 
 
 With which words Miss Alethea sailed slowly out, her 
 black silk rustling: Mr. Effingham standing perfectly mo 
 tionless in the middle of the floor the letter lying on the 
 table. 
 
 " Engaged for half a year 1 " he said, as in a dream, 
 "engaged! Alethea 1 Hamilton!" 
 
 His eye fell on the letter, and he tore it open and read 
 it like lightning his brow flushing, now with anger, then 
 pleasure, then this latter expression chased away the former, 
 and his face was radiant. He dropped the letter and uttered 
 a sigh, which seemed to remove instantly a mountain from 
 his breast. 
 
 The letter was in these words : 
 
 " MY DEAR CHAMP : 
 
 " I know what I have done is disgraceful, and hor 
 rible, and awful, and all that but it was meant well, and I 
 don't care what you may say ; it has succeeded. The time
 
 DIAGNOSIS AND TREATMENT OF DR. M RT-REYNARD. 20* 
 
 to acknowledge the trick is come, and here goes. It went 
 this way : 
 
 " I saw you come back from Europe completely knocked 
 up worried out, as you said, and you will remember that 
 I announced my intention to become physician in ordinary 
 to you, the very first time I saw you. You thought the fox 
 hunt was all I know you did, and you are one more added 
 to the list of those people, by George ! who give Jack Ham 
 ilton credit for only about as much sense as a man could 
 put into the left eye of a sparrow. No, sir ! I'm deep, and 1 
 set to work at once, as I am going to tell you in this letter. 
 I would rather not hav. \ scene and a viva voce explanation 
 after your blood and thunder address to me the other day, 
 which made me as mad as blazes an improper and vulgar 
 expression, but it conveys the idea strongly. 
 
 " This was it. I say I saw you come home knocked up, 
 and 1 hadn't been living so long in the world without un 
 derstanding that you wanted to have some pursuit some 
 object. I'm thirty large odd, sir, nearly forty, in fact 
 don't mention it among the ladies and in that time I had 
 gathered some ideas. I know what I am going to say will 
 make you mad, by Jove ! but what do I care ? I am a tri 
 umphant M. D., and if the patient runs the physician through 
 the gizzard for cauterizing and curing him, society will 
 frown upon the act : if any thing, the doctor's reputation 
 will increase ! 
 
 " I determined from that very interview that you should 
 go back to your passion for Clare : it was only sleeping I 
 resolved to wake it. Being engaged to Miss Alethea, who 
 promises to make a respectable and moral man of me and 
 I only hope she may not be disappointed I had a natural 
 disinclination to having a brother-in-law who would go about 
 all the time looking like a thunder cloud, and as pale as 
 those spirits called ghouls, who feed on human flesh, as I 
 have read somewhere in Shakespeare, or the Dictionary 
 which fact makes them disagreeable associates, as a man 
 never can feel sure that they are not anxious to eat hiiii. I 
 resolved, therefore to twist you round my thumb and I've 
 done it triumphantly ! I dare you to deny it ! You are 
 at this moment desperately in love with Clare Lee your 
 boyish adoration was not a shadow to it : you very nearly
 
 268 DIAGNOSIS AND TREATMENT OF DR. MORT-REYN AfcD. 
 
 eut me to pieces the other day for asking what kept you 
 from visiting her ! Deny it if you dare and ah ! my dear 
 boy, here is the agreeable part, what will make your vanity 
 unbearable, here is the triumph of my tactics : she loves 
 you ! she does, upon my soul ! 
 
 " But let me proceed, step by step, by G-eorge ! I know 
 human nature, and especially woman nature, sir I am mas 
 ter of that : they can't trap me not they ; but my know 
 ledge of the masculine temperament is equally profound. I 
 have always observed that men and women, like hounds, run 
 after what flies from them. I doubt whether even my dog 
 Tinkle would grab a fox, if the fox came and sat down 
 quietly by him and said, ' I would rather be grabbed than 
 not grab me, old fellow.' I know Tinkle, sir, and Tinkle 
 would reply, ' Off with you, you are a disreputable hen 
 roost thief: I won't have you near me ! ' But let the fox 
 run, and look ! Tinkle will run him until his tongue hangs 
 out of his mouth like a red ribbon. It's just so with men 
 and you are no exception. I tell you, sir, that you began to 
 fall back in love with Clare the moment you found, or rather 
 thought, she was running from you into my arms. That 
 roused you; you cursed me from Dan to Beersheba and 
 back again for a false friend ; but you fell a victim to my 
 artifice ! If I had not played that nice little trick, what 
 would have been the consequence ? Why you would have 
 found that Clare loved you as much as ever, in spite of 
 your goings on, because she has forgiven you : and you 
 would have dawdled over there once a week or so, and come 
 back as dull as ever, and drawled ' yes, yes, a nice girl, very 
 agreeable, fond of me but I'm done with women ! ' Nothing, 
 sir, would have come of it. But, now ! what did I do ? 
 Why, I sacrificed myself on the altar of friendship, like a 
 hero : I bore your murderous looks I declined to see your 
 fireball eyes, I took no notice of your tones of voice. I 
 practised on you, sir, and I twisted you over my thumb I 
 made you jealous I told, on a moderate calculation, one 
 thousand lies about myself and Clare, which lies, as an 
 honorable man, you are bound to take upon yourself they 
 having been told in your service. I then took up a largo 
 portion of my valuable time in praising you at Riverhead. 
 The lies I told you were nothing to \vhat I told Clare : I
 
 DIAGNOSIS AND TREATMENT Of* DR. \tORT-REYNARD. 269 
 
 revelled in the imaginary, sir I made you out the greatest 
 hero of modern times I said you were a saint, for which 
 heaven torgive me : I did what every man is conscientiously 
 bound to do for his friend in vulgar and deplorably coarse 
 phrase, I plastered you, sir. 
 
 " I made Clare believe that you were dying of love for 
 Henrietta this was to put her on her guard ; after that, as 
 she was a woman, I defied her to do more than speak to you. 
 Her pride kept her from showing that she cared for you ; I 
 tricked her admirably. 
 
 " Having worked my diabolical and disgraceful scheme 
 up thus, I carried it on I revelled in it you had a spice 
 of that the other day when you boiled over; and that really 
 made me angry; by Jove ! I could have cut your throat then, 
 and afterwards overwhelmed you, and mortified you, with 
 telling you all I had done for you. I persist in saying that 
 my triumph is complete. By George ! I admire myself. 
 
 " And now, presume to quarrel if you dare, with all this; 
 it was well meant, and you know it has turned out as I say. 
 Pardon your old friend Jack, my boy, and acknowledge the 
 elevation of his moral character. Go and tell Clare you 
 love her, and don't fear that, when you have explained all, 
 she will discard you. She loves you, by Jove ! in a way 
 that makes me desirous of standing in your shoes : that is to 
 say, that the sentiment I have inspired Alethea with is much 
 more moderate and dignified. 
 
 " The game's afoot, my boy ; go it ! 
 
 "JACK HAMILTON." 
 
 Mr. Effingham uttered a second long-drawn sigh, and rose 
 like Columbus when the New World dawned upon him. 
 
 And in an hour they stood together by those two trees 
 planted in their childhood, now so far away, but shrined as a 
 jewel in their heart of hearts. And again he pointed to the 
 trees, and spoke of that bright childhood, and his sufferings 
 since then, and all the misconception which had cleared 
 away as a cloud passes from the sun, and leaves all bright 
 again, and full of warmth, and hope, and joy. 
 
 And, overhead, the oriole's song sprang upon the air, but 
 could not match the music of her voice ; as none of those 
 bright beautiful red buds of spring beneath their feet could
 
 270 ON A MAT EVENING. 
 
 hold comparison with the bright rosy cheek which lay upon 
 his bosom. The soft blue eyes were turned up to his own 
 thenceforth, his heaven was clear. 
 
 CHAPTER XLV. 
 
 ON A MAT EVENING. 
 
 THE voice was like a fairy's ; all the old Hall rang with it, 
 and the bright-winged birds without laughed gayly for pure, 
 honest, artist-joy at hearing it. Kate almost excelled her 
 self; but yet it was plainly without thought she sang, com 
 ing along from the staircase, tripping toward the portico in 
 the mild, tender evening. 
 
 Upon that portico the portico of Effingham Hall sat 
 several of the personages who have illustrated this history 
 contributing their gay utterances and honest countenances to 
 the narrative. 
 
 The Captain sat there, merrily laughing with Miss Hen 
 rietta, who. ever and anon, tossed her bright laughing head, 
 scattering the snowy powder through the sun-flushed atmos 
 phere, as her admirer nay, her lord to be uttered some of 
 his jovial and heretical sentiments on the subject of the fair 
 ex. As for the Captain, he was plainly in a very joyous 
 mood, and vented more morbleus than ever graced that 
 ditty of the youthful poet, chronicling the journey to Mos 
 cow. 
 
 Near them sat mirabtle dictu Lanky and his mis 
 tress. This was a freak of the Captain, who, passing by the 
 Oldfield school in his fine chariot, had discovered Lanky 
 holding a confidential interview with Donsy after school 
 under an elm ; and so, addressing the astonished Corydon 
 by the name of " villain," brought him nothing loth and 
 Donsy with him, to the Hall , it being understood that the 
 chariot would have to return by nightfall round by Williams- 
 burg. Lanky looked amazed when he was spoken to, and 
 shook his pine knot head unconsciously, and regarded his huge 
 feet and striped stockings with the air of a bewildered scar
 
 ON A MAT EVENING. 271 
 
 Muouch, as the Captain afterwards confidentially informed 
 him. As for Donsy, she was a very quiet, well-bred little 
 lady, and answered everybody with soft courtesy and sim 
 plicity. She was clad simply but very neatly, and seemed 
 to wish to be away with Lanky laughing and talking. 
 
 Behind all sat Mr. Effingham and Clare silent ; gazing 
 upon the fair spring sunset. It was not plain at first where 
 the soft little hand of Clare had betaken itself; but this 
 mystery upon a nearer scrutiny was soon explained. It 
 rested in his own. 
 
 Lastly, the squire read his brown, heavy- typed " Gazette," 
 and grumbled at his Excellency ; and from time to time 
 rolled back his wristbands and looked out upon the fields, 
 and spoke to Miss Alethea near. 
 
 So they sat, when Kate, singing like a bird, came to them ; 
 and behind her, Will Will, with devoted love; Will, with 
 perfect abnegation of his personal identity ; Will, devoured 
 by his tender and everlasting devotion, which caused him to 
 blush, and cast beseeching glances, and extend his arms, and 
 only grasp the air. The rustle of a document shrined in his 
 bosom so to speak however, consoled him. And drawing 
 forth the true love indenture, he threw his eyes upon 
 that fascinating document, and seeing the signature, was 
 comforted. 
 
 Kate put her arms round Mr. Effingham's neck, covered 
 his eyes with her fingers, and his face was wrinkled into a 
 smile. He guesses very soon who it is ; and she entreats 
 him and cousin Clare to come and see her fine new book, 
 given her by Willie. 
 
 They go into the library and admire the book : and Kate, 
 admiring it more, and clasping it to her breast, runs to show 
 it to Captain Waters and cousin Henrietta ; still singing, 
 ever singing. 
 
 The light of the dying sun streams through the tall, old 
 windows on them, and the hand still nestles in his own. 
 
 They stand before the fireplace and gaze into each other's 
 faces, and unspeakable happiness lights up the tender lips of 
 Clare, the pale brow of her lover. 
 
 Again she speaks, in her low, tender voice, of all that 
 past which now is but a dream to them almost a marvel 
 Again, she tells him how she had thought of him through
 
 272 THE HURRICANE COMMENCES. 
 
 all ; and even when her rebellious woman's nature filled her 
 heart with bitterness toward him, and with resolutions never to 
 look upon him more, how still the old childhood had risen up 
 again, and how her feelings had all changed, and bitterness 
 gave way to pity for the wan face she had heard of, pity 
 finally to a love more deep than ever what she speaks of now 
 
 And so the sunset dies away in rosy splendor, laughing 
 through the woods : flaming on windows, gilding every brook ; 
 and streaming on the gothic bookcases, and old carven 
 chairs, and on them as they stand before the fireplace, and 
 the portrait. 
 
 And gazing upon that portrait, the man's heart is melted 
 in his breast, and tears come to his eyes ; and his heart is 
 full of holy love, and on his lips trembles a word which is 
 addressed to one far from him, past the sunset " mother." 
 
 He draws her head down on his bosom, and then point 
 ing to the picture, tells how he had thought to die when she 
 died ; his dear mother, now an angel up in heaven ; but that 
 God had let him live to cry for her like a little child, and pray 
 to be united to her once again ; and now to have a bosom on 
 which even such tears as these might be wept trustingly, 
 without fear, ever. 
 
 And so the sunset streams upon them, going far away , 
 and as the red light dies, he draws her closer to him ; and 
 his hand smooths her hair ; and pressing on the pure white 
 forehead a long, tranquil kiss, he murmurs " Clare 1 " 
 
 CHAPTEK XLVI 
 
 i THE HUEEICANE COMMENCE& 
 
 OUR comedy is almost finished. Having conducted Captain 
 Ralph and Lanky, Mr. Effingham and his friend Hamilton, 
 to say nothing of Henrietta, Clare, Miss Alethea and Donsy, 
 even Will and Kate, very nearly to the hymeneal altar, the 
 history pauses, like a wind which, rising in a whisper, swells 
 and ever grows, and then dies away in silent murmurs in the 
 distance.
 
 THE HURRICANE COMMENCES. 273 
 
 But there are necessary to the narrative one or two more 
 scenes, which we must briefly speak of. 
 
 All Williamsburg is in terrific commotion ; a moral storm 
 is raging there, and men look about them, measuring each 
 other with doubtful eyes. At the office of the " Virginia 
 Gazette," an enormous crowd is collected, and within, are 
 heard the presses rolling rapidly, and vainly striving to 
 strike off sufficient copies of the journal, to supply the 
 eager hands held out to take them. 
 
 The street is full of people passing to and fro; the 
 crowd undulates ; a murmur rises which at times swells into 
 a great shout. 
 
 Suddenly the multitude raises its startled head. A bell 
 begins to toll slowly, solemnly, with a melancholy ex 
 pression, which seems to echo the feeling of the crowd. 
 
 The explanation of the gathering, of the demand for 
 copies of the journal, of the tolling bell, is simple. The 
 vessel lying yonder at the port of York, and just from 
 London, has brought the intelligence of the passage of the 
 STAMP ACT. 
 
 For this reason the crowd murmurs, and stretches out its 
 Briarean hands towards the printing office, where an ad 
 ditional number has been hastily composed, containing the 
 provisions of the act. 
 
 As they receive the papers unfolded, they hastily glue 
 their eyes to them, and with dozens of persons looking 
 over their shoulders, scan the ominous words. Upon a 
 barrel, at some distance, is mounted a man who reads to thai 
 portion of the crowd next him, the contents of his paper. 
 
 The population of the town flow backward and forward, 
 as the blood flows in the veins and arteries. But the office 
 of the journal is the heart, to which all the streams return, 
 from which the flood pours, ever making way for others. 
 
 The crowd is for the most part composed of men who 
 seem to be of humble rank, such as are not accustomed to 
 criticise very strongly any acts of government ; but among 
 these rude forms are seen great numbers of the richly clad 
 members of the House of Burgesses, whose powdered heads 
 and embroidered doublets present a strong contrast to the 
 coarse fustian of the commoners. 
 
 The faces of the burghers are troubled doubtful ; thej 
 26
 
 274 THE HURRICANE COMMENCES. 
 
 are to act, not merely murmur, as the popular voice mur 
 murs ; and the crisis is enough to try the soul. On ono 
 side, England with her tremendous strength, her overwhelm 
 ing power by land and sea, and her immemorial prestige of 
 sovereignty ; upon the other, a few weak colonies, scattered 
 over a wild continent, and scarcely knowing each other or 
 whether if one rises in opposition, the rest will not march 
 to put her down. On one side an act of Parliament armed 
 with all the weight of a solemn resolution of that great 
 government j upon the other, a mere popular sentiment, 
 which only stammers " Liberty the liberty of free born 
 Englishmen ! " 
 
 And this very day the trial comes : for Governor Fau- 
 quier will open the House of Burgesses, and officially com 
 municate to that body the intelligence of the passage of the 
 act : and they must at once make submission or throw down 
 the gauntlet of defiance. 
 
 The crowd, as they respectfully make way for them, follow 
 them with their eyes : they seek to read in the faces of the 
 burghers what reply they deign to make to his serene Excel 
 lency. 
 
 Those men whom we have seen at the Governor's ball 
 formerly, pass through the crowd with animated faces, eagle 
 eyes. That stately Roman head stooping forward upon the 
 shoulders to which a hand in a black bandage is raised from 
 time to time, towers above the press, and with clear strong 
 eyes, surveys the excited throng with philosophic interest. 
 
 The bland lover of Anacreon reads hastily his journal. 
 
 The benevolent looking gentleman whose silvery voice 
 we have alluded to, whom we have seen lately at the mansion 
 of the soldier Captain Waters, raises his serene face above 
 the crowd, and one hand placed upon his heart seems to be 
 saying to that heart, " Be calm rashness is worst, not best 
 wait for the hour be still be moderate exhaust 'the 
 means of protest until all is trampled on do not strike ! " 
 
 And there beside him is the man who has uttered many 
 words in this hittory : who eternally brooding with fiery 
 soul over one grand idea, now revels in the rising storm, and 
 feels his heart bound at the muttering tempest. He wraps 
 his old red cloak around him ; elbows his way with scant 
 courtesy from group to group listens to every word ; gaugei
 
 THE HURRICANE COMMENCES. 27& 
 
 the height of the flood as it rises and begins to foam, and es 
 tiinates the strength which it will finally possess, wheu, strik 
 ing the great dyke which opposes it, the water shall break 
 loose. He smiles grimly from time to time, and utters de 
 tached sentences in his vigorous, somewhat affected patois, 
 which very plainly is meant only to open his way to the rude 
 natures gathering around him. 
 
 His words even his chance words burn : for they have 
 fire in them. He condenses voluraes into a sentence, and 
 utters bitter taunts. 
 
 u Strip your shoulders, strip 1 " he says, " the lash ia 
 ready you are slaves 1 " 
 
 And to others : 
 
 "Go crawl and grovel in the dirt 1 who knows but your 
 masters may take pity ! " 
 
 And each of these words, cold, yet fiery calm, yet 
 stormy, lashes the great popular commotion into huger 
 waves, from which gleam bloodshot eyes, and over which rise 
 threatening arms, clenched hands. The man in the red 
 cloak moulds the common mind as he goes, with a master 
 hand he works it in his gra**p like moistened clay : he 
 laughs at it, and taunts it, and overwhelms it with contemp 
 tuous sarcasms, and pushes scornfully aside the menacing 
 breasts, and stands the very impersonation of their thoughts 
 and feelings, with a grim smile on his lips, a lurid fire in his 
 eyes which makes him lord of them lord of their hearts 
 and arms. 
 
 The commotion ever rises higher, and the great wave, 
 extending from the governor's palace to the capital, the whole 
 length of Gloucester-street, surges to and fro, and breaks 
 into a foam of cries and furious gestures everywhere. And 
 still the bell tolls mournfully, and ever and anon rise those 
 shouts which mount to the gathering clouds above. 
 
 But now another sound startles the multitude. A can 
 non roars from the palace, sending its hoarse sombre voice 
 upon the wind which now begins to rise. And then a drum 
 is heard. 
 
 The governor has set out from the palace for the capital, 
 there to open the House of Burgesses. Before him ride his 
 body-guard with drawn sabres, and the face of the old man 
 is seen through the window of his splendid chariot, which if
 
 276 THE HURRICANE COMMENCES. 
 
 drawn slowly onward by six glossy horses, who toss theii 
 resetted heads and push aside the muttering crowd with 
 their chests. 
 
 The crowd mutters inarticulately : gazes sidewise at the 
 cortege slowly passing. 
 
 The governor raises his head, and pointing with his white, 
 jewelled finger through the window of the chariot, says to 
 one of the gentlemen who ride with him : 
 
 " What is that bell ? " 
 
 " They began tolling it upon the intelligence this morn 
 ing, your Excellency." 
 
 The governor shakes his head and sinks back in his 
 chariot, muttering, " Well, well, the die is thrown ! " 
 
 The crowd mutter too, and with ever increasing rage : 
 the cavalcade is followed by groans and murmurs which are 
 menacing murmurs. 
 
 So it continues all day : the chariot goes slowly back 
 again under the now lurid sky, and disappears within the 
 palace gates. 
 
 The crowd is increasing even yet : the windows of the 
 houses are filled with the excited faces of women, who ex 
 change whispers and wave their handkerchiefs to those they 
 recognize in the tumultuous throng below. 
 
 That throng, like a forest trembling at the approaching 
 whirlwind, moans and sighs and utters a crackling noise like 
 grating boughs : a rumbling like breakers on the coast. 
 
 The Raleigh tavern is full of heads. Men pass to and 
 fro, and a meeting is held in the Apollo room, where many 
 words are uttered. History has spoken of the place, the 
 words, the men. 
 
 Without, the tumult increases always as the night draws 
 on. 
 
 The man in the red cloak is still passing from group to 
 group, and when he leaves each group, it utters murmurs, 
 menaces and curses ; he is master of the storm, and revels 
 in it. 
 
 On the great square especially the crowd is densest, and 
 sweeps more irresistibly than elsewhere from side to side, 
 swaying about and uttering hoarse cries. A dozen speakers, 
 mounting one after another upon the temporary platform 
 near the centre, strive vainly to be heard.
 
 THE HURRICANE COMMENCES. 27' 
 
 The material storm rising in the lurid sky above, from 
 which thunder begins to mutter, might permit them to be 
 heard ; the moral tornado is too furious. 
 
 Suddenly, a half silence falls upon the multitude, and 
 they listen to a man wrapped in an old red cloak, whose face 
 awes them : the time has come. 
 
 As he speaks, with awkward and slovenly gestures, in his 
 rude, harsh voice, the multitude are silent ; they only look 
 at his eyes. Those eyes are fine. He rises in height ; he 
 thunders ; he lightens : the crowd shudder, and rise up and 
 shout. 
 
 " They are there at York 1 " he thunders, with a curling 
 lip ; " are you afraid ? " 
 
 And, descending from the platform, he hears a roar 
 which drowns the thunder overhead. 
 
 Yes, the blank stamps are in the vessel at the port of 
 York, and fifty horsemen whirl out of the town. Hundreds 
 of men follow on foot, shouting ; they will have them ; they 
 will burn them here before the palace of the royal governor. 
 
 The man in the red cloak wraps himself up grimly and 
 pushes through the crowd ; he can wait. 
 
 He approaches the Raleigh ; he raises his eyes : he sees 
 standing before him a man of the people, holding a staff in 
 his hand, and covered with dust. This man's eyes have the 
 expression of a madman's ; his face is pale, his lips are white. 
 He gazes at the stranger ; he scarcely hears him speak. 
 
 " Well met 1 " the stranger says ; " see the storm which 
 I spoke of ! " 
 
 The wayfarer says nothing. 
 
 " You miss a great feast," the stranger goes on, grimly ; 
 " you are too happy in your mountain." 
 
 " I am there no longer." 
 
 " Your wife " 
 
 " I have none." 
 
 And the face flushes passionately, and two bitter tears 
 roll down the pale, wan cheeks. 
 
 " No wife 1 " the stranger says, looking at him. 
 
 " God took her to himself." 
 
 And bending down, he uttered a moan, and remained 
 ailcnt pale, gloomy, and despairing. 
 
 " Rouse ! rouse ! " the stranger says, " it is not the time 
 to grieve J "
 
 278 THE HURRICANE COMMENCES. 
 
 The wayfarer looks at him, and his eyes make the stran. 
 ger tremble. 
 
 11 1 am calm," he says. 
 
 " Come in here with me," says the stranger, " we must 
 wait." 
 
 And they enter the Raleigh. 
 
 Night draws on, lurid and tempestuous ; the sky is dark 
 with clouds, from which issue thunder and lightning. The 
 wind moans. 
 
 The crowd has not moved, and is almost silent, until a 
 light appears approaching from the side of York. 
 
 They shout then, and surge backward and forward, 
 tumultuously going to meet the light. 
 
 Through the press comes slowly onward a wagon, whose 
 six horses foam at the mouth and pant, covered with sweat. 
 They have galloped all the way from Yorktown. 
 
 The wagon pauses in the middle of the square, and is 
 buried almost beneath the surge of men who throw them 
 selves upon it. 
 
 The horses, unhitched hastily, are lashed, and disappear 
 like shadows, but shadows which overthrew men as they 
 ploughed their furious way into the darkness. 
 
 The wagon is rifled with the rapidity of lightning. The 
 boxes containing the blank stamps are hurled out and piled 
 into a mass. The crowd utters a hoarse shout, and the 
 torch is applied. to them. 
 
 The flame licks and clasps them, winding round and 
 through the pile of half broken boxes. Then it soars aloft, 
 and throws its glare upon the crowd, whose faces but now 
 were concealed by the darkness faces full of rage, rude 
 faces of the common people, who hear still that thunder of 
 the stranger, louder than the storm about to burst. 
 
 Then it is that they see two figures on the platform ; 
 and they shout. 
 
 One is a man in a red cloak ; the other younger, with a 
 pale, fiery face, which makes them shudder. The latter 
 speaks ; the man in the red cloak listens. 
 
 The thunder roars, but it does not drown that stranger's 
 wild voice, which sounds like a wail from the other world. 
 The fire throws a crimson glare upon all faces ; his is pale. 
 
 He strikes them with his burning words as with hot fire 
 brands ; ha ploughs his way through the bosoms of the
 
 HIE HURRICANE COMMENCES 279 
 
 surging multitude with a tremendous, gigantic passion ; he 
 hurls upon them an eloquence ,which makes them shudder. 
 He arraigns England at the bar of eternal justice and brands 
 her ; he lashes her with a whip of fire ; he plunges the weapon 
 into her breast, and the blood spouts hot and gurgling. The 
 great multitude hold their breath then roar. 
 
 The speaker sways to and fro, with his hair streaming 
 from his brow, his neck bare, his eyes full of blood, his lipa 
 stained with a red foam. 
 
 He pours upon them a flood of passion which overwhelms 
 them he rides upon the wave of popular commotion like a 
 whirlwind ; he trembles, and they tremble with him ; he 
 shouts, and they utter a roar which drowns the storm. 
 
 He raises his clenched hands to heaven, and with an over 
 powering, terrible vehemence, which burns, and strikes, and 
 obliterates, speaks of the grinding oppression of all ages ; 
 facts glow and take vitality under his quivering hands ; they 
 blaze like the roaring flame before him. 
 
 He staggers with the gigantic grandeur of his passion ; 
 raves almost with his writhing lips, but with a madness 
 which bends all down with its terrible, inexorable method. 
 He totters from side to side, and again rises. 
 
 The multitude look at him with pale faces, then faces 
 flushed with wrath, terror, and indignation ; and every word 
 he utters burns into them like a hot iron, leaving an inef 
 faceable impression upon every heart. He speaks the 
 thoughts, the feelings, and the passions of them all. 
 
 And as he raises his pale brow to the storm, his fiery eyes, 
 his bleeding lips, a sudden flash of lightning blinds all eyes 
 with its terrible radiancy, lighting up tree and house, and all 
 the great surging crowd ; and then comes a crash of thunder 
 like a thousand cannon, which seems to trample out the very 
 fire, for the flame crumbles into gloom, and disappears. 
 
 Pale, overwhelmed, and staggering, his mouth filled 
 with bloody foam, the speaker falls back fainting into the 
 outstretched arms of the man in the red cloak, who holds 
 him on his breast. 
 
 " Good 1 " murmured Patrick Henry, smiling grimly 
 '* the Revolution is begun 1 "
 
 280 THE AUTHOR OMITS DESCRIBING FOUR WEDDINGS. 
 
 CHAPTER XLYII. 
 
 IN WHICH THE AUTHOR OF THE MS. OMITS DESCRIBING FOUR 
 WEDDINGS. 
 
 " I NEED not add to this history a description of the merry 
 wedding parties which ere long filled three houses with mer 
 riment and rejoicing. 
 
 " Those particular scenes are much more agreeable to 
 attend than to describe ; and perhaps all description would 
 only blur the picture of those jubilees, full of wild revelry, 
 as were all such i 1 &ne ancient colony and Old Dominion 
 indeed, are at the clay we live in. 
 
 " Perhaps the saddest bridegroom was our friend the 
 Captain, whose honest face could not look very cheerful 
 when his brother's pale cheeks came to his memory, and 
 when the ban pire was away. But he comforted himself 
 with the thought that he would have both of them at ' Flod- 
 den' the old man at least, certainly, where the best cham 
 ber in the mansion was set apart for the old fisherman. 
 
 " Mr. Effingham, as we may imagine, was radiant with 
 joy ; and it is scarcely too much to say, that Clare was 
 quite as happy. The sisters were married on the same day ; 
 and, at the Hall, Miss Alethea gave her hand to Mr. Jack 
 Hamilton, almost at the same moment. That unconquer 
 able bachelor was fairly conquered and enslaved. 
 
 " Our friend Lanky married Donsy soon afterwards, and 
 the Captain kept his promise ; and the happy young couple 
 took up their abode at the cottage. Lanky often told his 
 wife that he owed his success in gaining her a.ffections to the 
 advice of the Captain, which had led him to don those mili 
 tary accoutrements which had made such an impression upon 
 her heart. But Donsy to the last denied that such was the 
 fact ; and was not even convinced when Lanky's pine-knot 
 head was sawed argumentatively from a point due north 
 east to the opposite portion of the compass. 
 
 " Our comedy is now quite ended. Having listened for 
 mauy hours to those ante-revolutionary voices speaking of 
 themselves, and telling us what thoughts, and schemes, and 
 hopes, and fears occupied them then, we may go out into the
 
 BPILOGUE. 28 I 
 
 broad sunny world to-day, no worse for having heard those 
 sincere utterances. The past has tried to speak, and the poor 
 chronicler has written down what the low voice dictated. 
 If there is any good in what he has placed on the page a 
 scene of conquered passion, or pure love, denying self, his 
 hours have not been thrown away. And now, the history 
 being ended, be will rest.** 
 
 EPILOGUE. 
 
 IT was one of those pure days which, born of spring, seem 
 almost to rejoice like living things in the bright flowers and 
 tender buds : and she was failing. 
 
 All the mountain winds were faintly blowing on the 
 smiling trees, and on the white calm brow of one who breathed 
 the pure delightful airs of opening spring, before she went 
 away to breathe the airs of that other land, so far away, 
 where no snows come, or frost, or hail, or rain ; but spring 
 reigns ever, sublimated by the light which shines on figures 
 in white garments round the central throne. 
 
 She heard those figures calling, calling, calling, with 
 their low soft voices full of love and hope ; calling ever to 
 her in the purple twilight dying o'er the world ; rejoicing 
 every one that she was coming. 
 
 She looked upon the faces seen thi>?ugh mist around her, 
 and besought them smiling, not / weep for her, but look to 
 the bright land where she was going for her faith was 
 strong. She begged them to take tender care of the flower 
 which lay but now upon her bosom, and not think of her. 
 A voice had told her in the night that she was waited for : 
 and now the sun was fading in the west, and she must go. 
 
 Alcestis-like she kissed them on their brows and pointed 
 to the skies : the time had almost come. 
 
 She looked with dim faint eyes, as in a dream, upon that 
 past which now had flowed from her and left her pure : 
 she saw the sunset wane away and die above the rosy head 
 lands, glooming fast : she murmured that her hope was 
 steadfast ever ; that she heard the angels ; that they called
 
 282 EPILOGUE. 
 
 to her, and bade her say farewell to all that was around hei 
 on this earth, for now the expected time had come. 
 
 The tender sunset faded far away, and over the great 
 mountains drooped the spangled veil, with myriads of worlds 
 all singing as her heart was singing now. She saw the rosy 
 flush go far away, and die away, and leave the earth : and 
 then the voice said Come ! 
 
 She saw a cross rise from the far bright distance 
 and a bleeding form : she saw the heavenly vision slowly 
 move, and ever nearer, nearer, brighter with the light of 
 heaven. She saw it now before her, and her arms were 
 opened. The grand eternal stars came out above the 3un- 
 set died upon her brow she clasped the cross close to her 
 bosom and so fell asleep. 
 
 1DR
 
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