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 HANDELL HUNT, ESQ. 
 
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 MY Hi:*" RANDCLL: 
 
 I AM reminded, in. patting forth this little volume, or the 
 interest which you took, nearly twelve years ago, in 
 the fortunes of another work of similar dimensions my first 
 experiment in prose literature, Martin Faber, which was then 
 issued from the press. The inscription of the present volume 
 with your name, may serve to recal, not unpleasantly to 
 your memory, with the circumstances of that period, the 
 recollection of 
 
 THE AUTHOB. 
 
 AVwFor*, Oct. 1, 1844 
 

 DUOPAGE 
 
 Reproduced by XEROGRAPHY 
 by Micro Photo Inc. 
 Cleveland 12, Ohio 
 
HELEN HALSEY. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE unwise license and injurious freedoms ac 
 corded to youth in our day and country, will ren 
 der it unnecessary to explain how it was that, 
 with father and mother, a good homestead, and 
 excellent resources, I was yet suffered at the 
 early age of eighteen, to set out on a desultory 
 and almost purposeless expedition, among some 
 of the wildest regions of the South- West. It 
 would be as unnecessary and, perhaps, much 
 more difficult, to show \vhat were my own mo 
 tives in undertaking such a journey. A truant 
 disposition, a love of adventure, or, possibly, the 
 stray glances of some forest maiden, may all be 
 assumed as good and sufficient reasons, to set a 
 warm heart wandering, and provoke wild im 
 pulses in the blood of one, by nature impetuous 
 enough, and, by education, very much the master 
 of his own will. With a proud heart, hopeful of all 
 things if thoughtless of any, as noble a steed as 
 
6 . HELEN IIALHEY. 
 
 ever shook a sable mane over a sunny prairie, and 
 enough money, liberally calculated, to permit an 
 occasional extravagance, whether in excess or 
 charity, I set out one sunny winter s morning 
 from Leaside, our family ploce, carrying with me 
 the tearful blessings of my mother, and os kind a 
 farewell from my father, as could decently com 
 port with the undisguised displeasure with which 
 he had encountered the first expression of my 
 wish to go abroad. Well might he disapprove 
 of a determination which was so utterly without 
 an object. But our discussion on this point need 
 not be resumed. Enough, that, if " my path was 
 all before me," I was utterly without a guide. 
 It was, besides, my purpose to go where there 
 were few if any paths ; regions as wild as they 
 were pathless ; among strange tribes and races ; 
 about whose erring and impulsive natures we 
 now and then heard such tales of terror, and of 
 wonder, as carried us back to the most venerable 
 periods of feudal history, and seemed to promise 
 us a full return and realization of their strangest 
 and saddest legends, Of stories such as these, 
 the boy sees only the wild and picturesque as 
 pects, such as are beautiful with a startling 
 beauty such as impress his imagination rathei 
 than his thoughts, and presenting the truth to hi& 
 eyes through the medium of his fancies, divest it 
 of whatever is coarse, or cold, or cruel, in its 
 composition. It was thus that I had heard of 
 these things, and thus that, instead of repelling, as 
 
HELEN IIALBEY. 7 
 
 they would have done, robbed of that charm of 
 distance which equally beautifies in the moral as 
 in the natural world, they invited my footsteps, 
 and seduced me from the more appropriate do 
 mestic world in which my lot had been cast. 
 
 With a light heart, full of expectation, a free 
 steed that seemed rather to swim along through 
 space, than tread monotonously over the rugged 
 ground, the day passed away with an almost un 
 noted flight, My eyes had been charmed in the 
 observation of trees and groves, picturesque ob 
 jects of sight in hill and dale, wood and water, 
 and such occasional more worldly matters, as 
 were provoked by long ranges of whitened cot 
 ton fields, or yellow corn yet bristling in unbroken 
 rows. At the close of the day, I had reached a 
 cabin where I found shelter for the night, and at 
 early dawn, I again set forth, with the promise 
 of another day of generous sunshine. This day 
 was consumed like the last, and with equal satis 
 faction to myself. The buoyant spirit of youth 
 rises in exultation in any exercise, which seems to 
 impart equal freedom to soul and body ; and there 
 is something of the same triumphant pulse in the 
 heart, galloping over the prairies, over the hills, or 
 through the long cathedral ranges of gigantic pine 
 forests, which one feels on the deck of a fine ship, 
 careering over the billows of the broad Atlantic, 
 with a breeze that sends the foam flying at every 
 plunge, from the bold prow of the imperial vessel. 
 The man is wonderfully lifted with the conscious- 
 
8 HELEN HAL8EY. 
 
 ness of having at his command, and being able to 
 command, such a n^ble animal as the horse, and 
 rapidity of motion is the source of an intoxication, 
 of a sublime sort, of the character of which we 
 can form a, good conception from the interest we 
 take in a race, whether of steeds or steamboats ; 
 the danger of being hurled down by the one or 
 blown up by the other, being, in both cases, ab 
 solutely and entirely forgotten. Mine was a na 
 ture particularly to exult in such exercises, my 
 temperament being wholly sanguine, and the in 
 dulgence of my parents having left it to an unre 
 strained exercise, which rendered it feverishly 
 irritable when not engaged in such performances 
 as were grateful to my excitable imagination. 
 After the close of the second day of my journey, 
 it seemed to me as if both my horse and self could 
 have begun anew, with a more buoyant spirit 
 than before, as if the toil itself refreshed us, and 
 as if no more grateful object lay before us, than 
 just be permitted to be wander on, and on, " the 
 world forgetting, by the world forgot/ Certain 
 ly, the true secret of perpetual life, is perpetual 
 motion. Find the one, and we secure the other. 
 Alas! the want of daylight, is the great draw 
 back to our progress and discoveries. We have 
 just begun to make them when the curtain falls 
 upon us. 
 
 The close of the second day brought me to the 
 foot of a long range of hills, the lower steps pos 
 sibly of the great Apalachian chain, inclining to 
 
IIELI:N HALSEY. 9 
 
 the Mississippi. It also brought me to the very 
 borders of what was in that day, known as the 
 region of doubt and shadow. I had reached the 
 confines of civilization even such imperfect civi 
 lization as belonged to our thinly settled frontiers. 
 I was now ninety miles from Leaside, and only 
 separated by a narrow wall of hills from that 
 strange region of forest mystery and romance, 
 about which so many surprising stories had been 
 told me. This also was the Indian country 
 here the red men still lingered, mixed up with 
 reckless, renegade whites, who preferred the wild 
 privileges of savage, to the more wholesome, but 
 seemingly less attractive pleasures, of civilized 
 life. As I thought over this taste, I cold not but 
 shudder to discover that such also, to some ex 
 tent, was the feeling in my own bosom. But I 
 was too young to encourage unpleasant refteC" 
 tions, and for these but little time was allowed 
 me. Just on the edge of this neutral ground 
 this debateable land neither savage nor social 
 stood a house that has since had more than one 
 remarkable history. It was a miserable shell of 
 logs, roughly hewn, of two stories, to which, in 
 the rear, was appended a long shed of frame 
 work, intended to contain some three chambers, 
 or, upon a press of company passage way in- 
 cluded-r-possibly four. It was a public of noto 
 rious resort standing almost astride the area, 
 from which diverged four roads, leading to as 
 many different quarters of country. It was con- 
 
10 HELEN HA1.SEY. 
 
 sequently much frequented, and the landlord, 
 who will probably be well remembered by many 
 as Jephson Yannaker, was, at the time of which I 
 speak, doing a thriving business. There were 
 many witless lads like myself, travelling for their 
 humors, and many more, not so witless, but more 
 reckless, travelling in the same regions at our 
 expense, I had not much time allowed me to 
 examine the exterior of this establishment, before 
 a stout, shock-headed, burly, red-faced, but kind 
 ly looking personage, whom I soon learned to be 
 Yannaker himself, advanced from the door-way 
 to the head of my horse. 
 
 "Come, light, stranger, you re just in time to 
 shake a leg with the best of them. Light 1 I ll 
 see to the critter/ 
 
 His words were explained a moment aftef, as 
 the discordant twang of a half-tuned fiddle smote 
 my ears from the interior. In entering, I had 
 just time to discover that several horses were 
 hitched to neighboring trees, and on one side of 
 the premises, but rather nearer to the house, there 
 stood a sort of travelling carriage of rude struc 
 ture a strong, unwieldy vehicle, to which two 
 able draught horses were still partially attached. 
 From a few bundles of fodder at their feet, it 
 seemed to be the design of their driver, who was 
 busy in the carnage, that they should enjoy their 
 forage where they stood. 
 
 But the sight within made me forget every 
 thing without. The hall ran nearly the whole 
 
HELEN IIALSEY. 11 
 
 length of the building, and it was comparatively 
 a large one. A bright fire was blazing in the 
 chimney, and a matter of thirty person?, or even 
 more, were strewn around the apartment. Of 
 these, though less than hal a fair proportion 
 were women. Near the fire sat the fiddler, the 
 croakings and creakings of whose crazy instru 
 ment had assaulted me on my first arrival. He 
 was still busy in the seemingly hopeless task of 
 screwing its strings into something like sympho- 
 nious exercise and utterance. He was a plain 
 country lad, in homespun, with a cap of coonskin 
 still clinging to his head, which swung pendu- 
 lously over his fiddle, as he now jerked at the 
 keys, and now jostled with the bow. 
 
 But there was nothing in his appearance calcu 
 lated to detain my glance. This now roved 
 about the assembly, which promised to be as 
 interesting as it was certainly promiscuous and 
 picturesque. The men were stout fellows all, 
 of the true farm-yard breed, famous at the flail, 
 and with fists, whose seeming efficiency reminded 
 me more than once of the powers ascribed to 
 those of Maximin, the Gaul, who could* fell a 
 bullock at a blow. It did not seem as if they 
 had prepared themselves for the festivities they 
 were about to enjoy. Their costume was that 
 of the farm-yard. Plain blue or yellow home 
 spun, rough shoes, and, though the winter had 
 fairly set in, many were the bronzed and naked 
 
12 HELEN HALSEY. 
 
 breasts displayed by the open shirt of coarse 
 cotton. The frolic, so .far as they were con 
 cerned, "was evidently extempore. They md 
 been suffered no time for the toilet. But this did 
 not seem greatly to abash them. The unconven 
 tional world in which they lived, had rendered 
 them somewhat insensible to that feeling of 
 mauvaise honte, which would have been sure, 
 in such a case, to have distressed the half civil 
 ized lad to an immeasurable extent. They show 
 ed no conccjrn at the matter, but dashed forward, 
 each to his favorite lass, as coolly and confidently 
 as if fasliion had received her dues, and the toilet 
 all the necessary sacrifices. And there was, in 
 this very freedom, a sort of savage grace, wTiich 
 greatly tended to lessen the rudeness of its gene 
 ral aspects. Most of the fellows were well 
 formed rough, but erect and easy and having 
 . that use of their limbs, boldly flexible, which the 
 * life of the hunter and the horseman is very apt 
 *"* to impart in the case of a well made person. 
 Where had these lads come from ? From a 
 space of country twenty miles round, through 
 which *the very whispers of a fiddle make them 
 selves heard, heaven knows how, and whose at 
 tractions among such a people are felt, heaven 
 only knows to what extent* Some of them were 
 professional hunters ; some, idle ramblers like 
 myself; and some few might have been gathered 
 in the immediate neighborhood. But, as I could 
 give no very good reason for my own presence 
 
IICLDN IlALHKV, 13 
 
 in such a place, it would be unreasonable to ex 
 pect me to account for theirs. 
 
 The girls, but here the case is very different. 
 When did ever damsel find herself in such a 
 situation without contriving some of her secret 
 graces before the toilet? Though she mirrors 
 her beauties in the stream, she will yet manage 
 to give them some of those helps of art, a know 
 ledge of which she seems to have caught by 
 instinct. There were some twelve or fourteen 
 damsels in the room, and a profusion of ribbons 
 and of these a country girl must have the gaud 
 iest. Fancy, gentle reader, the picture for your 
 self. See Mary with her bandeau of Hibernian 
 green her belt of golden- yellow her necker 
 chief that seems to have been dyed in summer 
 rainbows, and her dress that might have been 
 made out of their skirts. And there is Susan in 
 her head dress, and Sally in her blue and scarlet, 
 and Jenny in her " Jim-along-Josey," without 
 ever dreaming that her style of body garment 
 would ever become a fashion in the great city, 
 and be known by such an imposing name. I am 
 not good at such details, and you must conceive 
 them for yourself. It is very certain, however, 
 that, with all their superior pains-taking at the 
 toilet, the women lacked the graces however 
 inferior-r^which distinguished the deportment of 
 the men. They sat, stiffly and awkwardly, like 
 BO many waxen figures, each on her stool, as if 
 troubled with a disquieting apprehension that any 
 
14 HELEN UALSEY. 
 
 Unwise movement would overturn the fair fabric 
 of her present state, and be equally fatal to head 
 dress, handkerchief and happiness. There was 
 one exception to this uniform display of ostenta 
 tion and awkwardness, of whom more here 
 after, 
 
 But tho waxen images were made to move. 
 The fiddle begun to speak in tolerable tune, and 
 tho brawny boys sprang across tho ocean of 
 floor that separated them from the green beauties 
 on tho sunny banks, and appropriated them, I 
 suppose, according to previous arrangement. In 
 tho twinkling of an eyo they were upon the 
 ground, every mother s non of them, and busy in 
 the mazes of the country dance, Such a shuflling 
 of feet, such a tearing of music to very tatters, by 
 that crazy violin, and the inveterate musician, 
 who scraped awny as if catgut could bring about 
 the noblest catastrophe, would require the crea 
 tion of a special muse to describe, and, until that 
 event, we leave the affair to the quick conception 
 and conjecture of the reader. 
 
HELEN 1IAL9EY. 15 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 I KNOW not why, but the whole proceeding, 
 with all its whirl and excitement, its odd merri 
 ment and grotesque display of art, produced in 
 me a feeling of disquiet, approaching even to 
 melancholy. Perhaps, this was because it re 
 minded me of Leaside, and the fiddling of old 
 Ben, our venerable butler, when little Mary 
 Bonham was my partner, and we wandered 
 down together in the same sweet primitive move 
 ments that now seemed to be desecrated wan 
 tonly before my eyes. The whole scene of home 
 grew up before me as I gazed and mused. The 
 stately hall, hung with pictures, nicely curtained, 
 with the massive piano on one side, and the 
 equally massive book-case on the other ; the one 
 a treasury of the sweetest sounds, the other of 
 the noblest sense. My father, with his white 
 hairs, on one side of the fireplace ; my mother, with 
 her stiffly-starched white cap on the other ; the 
 one with his huge Shakspeare on the little table 
 beside him, closed, with his silver spectacles 
 peeping out between the leaves ; the other with 
 her knitting apparatus in her lap, the work drop- 
 ping to her feet, as she watched our movements, 
 while the kitten, lying on its back, was disentang 
 ling with mischievous painstaking that which had 
 
16 HELEN 11ALSEY. 
 
 tasked the Ingenuity and industry of the good old 
 dame, to put together, for the last half dozen 
 evenings. That passing but sweet glimpse of the 
 dear old homestead, with all its holy associations, 
 was the first mental image which crossed my 
 mind, reproachful of my wanderings. You may 
 be sure I did not encourage it, but, anxious to 
 remove* it, I hastened round the dancers, to the 
 opposite side, intending to make my escape at 
 the doorway,, and go out beneath the skies; but 
 I was interrupted in this progress, and diverted 
 from this purpose, by finding the narrow way 
 occupied. I looked down at the person who 
 thus obstructed my pathway, and almost recoiled 
 in pleasurable surprise. Before me sat a young 
 girl of fifteen or thereabouts. She certainly 
 could not have been more than sixteen. The 
 first thing that struck me about her was the ex 
 quisite but dewy brightness of her .eye, which 
 was as dark of hue as the coal may be supposed 
 to be on the eve of that moment, when, under 
 .the force of heat, it becomes a brilliant. The 
 face was small, very email, when you turned 
 suddenly from the blaze of tjiie large expanding 
 eye to note the accompanying features ; but it 
 was also very beautiful. The skin was singularly 
 clear and transparent for such black eyes and 
 hair. The forehead, about which was bound a 
 narrow braid, was high and broad, and consti 
 tuted fully one half of the face. The hair was 
 parted, madonna fashion, as if art, after long ex- 
 
HELEN IIALSEV. 17 
 
 perience, had become assured that, in the present 
 case, her best policy was to obey the laws of 
 simplicity. Her neck, which was only half bared, 
 seemed very white and beautifully rounded. Her 
 figure, which was evidently slight, could not be 
 distinguished, by reason of the huge travelling 
 cloak in which she was still wrapped. The 
 whole appearance of this young creature, so 
 unique, yet so little like the rest in the assembly, 
 fixed my regard, and would have done so even 
 had the excessive brilliancy of her eyes and 
 beauty of her complexion not enchained it. Her 
 seeming isolation, too, so much like my own, was 
 another circumstance to commend her to my 
 sympathies. A scene like the present, in a fron 
 tier country, I need not say to my readers, is apt 
 to set at defiance the more restraining laws of 
 society in the obviously social world ; and, as 
 suming the exercise of one of the most understood 
 privileges of the place, I did not hesitate to ac 
 cost the stranger. She was evidently a stranger 
 like myself, and I jumped at once to the conclu 
 sion that she was one of the inmates of the trav 
 elling carriage that I had seen at the door. 
 
 "You do not dance," I said to her, bending 
 down beside her, and speaking in those subdued 
 tones which seem the properest when address 
 ing the young, the timid and the artless. 
 
 She looked up, then around her, with something 
 of the expression of a startled fawn, away from 
 its dam, and trembling at the approach of some 
 
18 11ELEN HALBfiY. 
 
 strange monster of the wilderness. There was 
 an air of anxiety in her glance, which made me 
 more cautious in my approaches, and at the same 
 time, more earnest in my interest. As she did 
 not answer,- 1 put my inquiry in another shape. 
 " Will you not dance with me ?" 
 " Oh, no 1" she answered, still looking anxious 
 ly around her, and particularly at the entrance, 
 " Oh, no I I do not wish to dance. I am a 
 stranger here, I know nobody." 
 
 " I too am a stranger here," was my reply- 
 "let us therefore know one another let us be 
 friends." 
 
 She allowed her eyes to rise for a moment to 
 the level of mine, and when they encountered my 
 glance, a deep crimson overspread her cheek. 
 
 "Shall we not be friends?" I repeated, as 1 
 found she did not design to answer. 
 
 " What can I do ?" she answered ; and the 
 question struck me as remarkable for its simpli 
 city. It seemed to indicate a higher standard of 
 duty, in the matter of friendship, on the part of 
 this . young creature, than was customary among 
 mankind in general. I contrived, however, to re 
 ply, though her question was evidently one not 
 easy of answer. 
 
 " What should a friend do, but love his friend, 
 and think of him, and pray for him, and be glad 
 to see him, and sorry to lose him." 
 
 "Ah ! but I shall soon be gone. * 
 
 "Gone! where?" 
 
HELEN HALSEY. 
 
 " To my own home you to yours." 
 44 And why should we go different ways ? * 
 "1 don t know," she said, in slow, subdued tones, 
 which so far flattered me, as they seemed to bo 
 regretful ones. 
 
 " There is no reason why w r e should not go to 
 gether, at least for a little while. For my part, I 
 have set out to travel, and it does not matter 
 much whither I go. Where do you live ?" 
 44 Miles off very far. Close by the river " 
 4 River what river?" 
 
 44 Far far ! You cannot go. No, no ! You 
 cannot go there/ 
 
 I observed, as she replied, that her glances 
 sought anxiously the entrance, before which I 
 now discovered, in the dim light of evening, that 
 there stood a group of persons, three or four in 
 number. 
 
 44 You little know how far I am willing to go 
 for my friend for those whom I love ;" was my 
 reply, and my hand rested, while I spoke, uncon 
 sciously on my own part, on hers. I felt hers 
 tremble beneath it. withdrawn and only then 
 was I conscious of the trespass, which, had I 
 been in a highly civilized world, had been com 
 mitted by this presumption. I proceeded : 
 
 44 If one s friend is true and worthy, one follows 
 her to the end of the world, follows nobody else, 
 thinks of nobody else, cares for nobody else, loves 
 her over all the world/ 
 
20 HELEN I1ALSEY. 
 
 " Ah ! that is friendship ;" she answered with 
 a sigh. 
 
 M I would be your friend I will follow you ;" 
 I continued impetuously, encouraged by her 
 words. 
 
 " No ! no ! I have no friend. I live very far, 
 by the river the road is hard to find bad 
 swamps you cannot follow me." 
 
 Her answer was made with some trepidation, 
 and an increased anxiety of expression, as her 
 glance was directed towards the door. 
 
 " And why should it be hard to find, and why 
 should the bad roads and the swamps prevent me, 
 when it does not prevent you ? Why can t I fol 
 low you ? I will follow you." 
 
 " No, you must not ! as a friend you must not." 
 
 This was spoken with singular emphasis ; then 
 she paused abruptly, as if disquieted at the degree 
 of empressement which she had given to her utter 
 ance. But she had also given peculiar force to 
 the word "friend? and that pleased me. It 
 seemed to say that she herself was not displeased 
 With the appropriation. But there was a mys 
 tery in the whole matter. Her strange mode of 
 speech so artless, yet so reserved her evident 
 anxiety, if not apprehension, and the secrecy 
 could it spring from ignorance which she re 
 solutely maintained as the whereabouts of her 
 abode 1 I was resolved not to give the matter 
 up. But, for that moment, this resolution was 
 made in vain, We were interrupted, and, as I 
 
HELEN IIALXJEY. 21 
 
 thought, rather rudely, by some one thrusting 
 himself in between us. I turned to meet the in 
 truder, in a mood prompt enough to punish the 
 intrusion, and was confronted by the stern glance 
 of a man in middle life perhaps a little beyond 
 it such seemed the testimony afforded by thick 
 masses of grisly beard which stood about his 
 cheeks and chin. His keen, inquiring glance, 
 Jixed upon my own face, rather tended to in- 
 crease the disposition which I felt to resent what 
 1 esteemed his impertinence, but the momentary 
 reflection that he might be the father of the dam 
 sel, moved me to tolerate a bearing which, under 
 any other circumstances, would have moved me 
 to do brittle, and which, in the opinion of the 
 country, would not only have justified, but called 
 for it. While I was meditating what to say, 
 for he still kept his glance fixed upon me the 
 girl rose and took his arm. He turned from me 
 at this instant and led her off to an adjoining 
 apartment, followed by Yannakcr, the host, who 
 seemed to be busy in no worse office than that 
 of showing the parties their several chambers. 
 
 ** My game is up for the night !" was my mut 
 tered reflection, and, so thinking, I dashed out of 
 the hall, and with hot brow and excited spirit, 
 stood, unknowing where to turn, beneath the cool 
 and mantling startlight. 
 
HELEN HALSEY. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE sounds of that crazy violin, which I now 
 began again to hear, sounded a worse discord in 
 my ears than ever, and gave an impulse to my 
 footsteps which they seemed to need. I dashed 
 forward, following what seemed the opened 
 grounds, and soon found myself ascending a little 
 range of hills. The night was very clear and 
 very beautiful,- of that sombrous sort of beauty 
 when the light just suiUccs to enable you to dis 
 tinguish objects, but helps* at the same time, to 
 magnify their aspects by its own vague medium. 
 The trees stood up, those stately pines which 
 maintain, day and night, one unceasing murmur, 
 which is more dear than song to the imaginative 
 spirit in frowning and vast magnificence beside 
 me, like so many gigantic wardens of the land, 
 marshalling the entrance to some wondrous pa 
 lace* Under their guidance, as it were, and 
 through their ranks, I hurried on, musing over the 
 thousand fancies which, 1 suppose, would be na 
 tural enough to any youth under the same cir 
 cumstances newly enriched by a sense of liberty 
 a feeling of manliness which the very privi 
 lege of roving at that hour, and in new scenes, 
 would be apt to inspire ; and, anon, reproached 
 by the stern internal monitor within, for filial dis- 
 
HKLCN JIAI.8EY. 23 
 
 obedience, remembering, with sinking heart, the 
 tears of my mother, and the frowning farewell of 
 my father- -all of which was, in another moment, to 
 be banished from thought, by the intrusive image 
 of that strange, sweet maiden, sitting by herself, 
 wrapped up in her heavy cloak, yet looking out 
 with such bright, diamond-like, heart-conducting 
 eyes. I might have wandered thus for hours, 
 perhaps all night, for what youth with such feel 
 ings in his heart, and such ferment in his brain, ever 
 cares for the dull sleep of ordinary mortals, had 
 I not been roused to other thoughts by a sudden 
 and startling sound, which reached me from 
 the range of dark hills opposite, I could only 
 liken this sound, with which I was unfamiliar, 
 to the bay or howl of the wolf, or perhaps, a 
 dozen of them ; and though the idea of a wolf- 
 hunt struck me the next moment, as being among 
 the most famous of all ideas, it was some qualifi 
 cation, just then, to any such desire, that I was 
 horseless, weaponless, without company, and to 
 tally ignorant of the habits of the animal, and the 
 country in which I stood. That domestic virtue, 
 discretion, interposing at this juncture, persuaded 
 me to retrace my steps to Yannaker s, which I 
 reached in reasonable time, after once measuring 
 my length over a stump, that very imprudently 
 stood in my way on the slope of a little hillock. 
 The violin was still at work, and though I felt 
 apprehensive that, until it slept, I should not,-4 
 persuaded, old Ynnnaker out of the circle, where 
 
24 HELEN HALflEY. 
 
 he himself shook a leg, in order that he should 
 show me the way to my chamber a measure to 
 which I was induced, by being convinced that 
 the fair stranger would not again emerge from 
 hers that night* 
 
 I slept soon and soundly, in spite of my con 
 victions slept to dream, precisely as I had 
 mused, of home, and strange woods and adven* 
 tures, with, ever and anon, that fair young face, 
 and those dark lustrous eyes, peering downward, 
 us if from hea ven, into my very heart* This image 
 so completely filled my brain, that it was the first 
 to encounter me at my waking. I started up 
 with a bright sun blazing through a half-opened 
 window upon me. There was a stir below, arid, 
 half vexed with myself for having slept so late, I 
 jumped out of bed and ran to the open window. 
 As I feared, the travelling carriage had disap 
 peared, and in it, us I concluded, my fair incog 
 nita. I dressed myself with all despatch, and 
 hurried below. Preparations for breakfast were 
 in progress, though the room still retained some 
 of the traces of last night s exertions. Part of an 
 antique frill lay in one place at my feet, and at a 
 little distance I detected beneath the breakfast 
 table a stripe of red stuff, most like red flannel, 
 in conjecturing the uses of which I was reminded 
 of the apocryphal story of the Countess of Salis 
 bury, and the now proverbial sentence of the 
 courteous monarch, * Honi soil qui malypense? 
 The worst evil that I was thinking of, was my 
 
HELEN IIALSEY. 25 
 
 mysterious damsel, and the timely entrance of 
 Yannakcr enabled me to make the necessary in 
 quiries. 
 
 " Gone, sir gone as fast as a pair of the best 
 horses in Massassipp could carry her." 
 
 " How long, Mr. Yannaker ?" 
 
 Don t mister me, stronger, I m plain Jeph 
 Yannaker to travellers, and Yannaker to them 
 that knows *ne, I m agin making a handle for a 
 man s name before you can trust yourself to take 
 hold of it." 
 
 " No offence, Jeph Yannaker I only speak as 
 I ve been accustomed." 
 
 " No offence, to be sure, it s your teoching, 
 stranger, but here in our parts, where people s 
 scarce, and the sight of one s neighbor does the 
 heart good, a handle to his name seems to push 
 him too far out of the reach of a friendly gripe. 
 It s a stiff, cold sort of business, this mistering 
 and squiring will do well enough among mere 
 gentlemen, and lawyers, and judges, and such sort 
 of cattle, but out here, where a look upon the 
 hills and swamps seems to give a man a sort of 
 freedom, it s a God s blessing that we have few 
 such people here. Here we re nothing but men, 
 just as God made us, not to speak of a little 
 addition, in the shape of jack t and breeches, made 
 out of blue or yellow homespun." 
 
 Those who have had the good fortune to know 
 Jeph Yannaker will give me credit for having 
 reported him correctly. His life was an event- 
 2 
 
26 HELEN IIALSEY. 
 
 ful one, and, one day, shall have its history, 
 though it come ( from no better hand than my 
 own. But to return. After some little time 
 taken up in disclaimers and other matters, for it 
 seemed to me as if the worthy publican was wil 
 fully bent on avoiding the topic to which I sought 
 to confine his attention, I at length gathered 
 from him, not only that the damsel had taken her 
 depai ture, but that she had been gone ever since 
 midnight that she never slept in the house at 
 all, but had only retired, with her uncle, from the 
 crowd that, as soon as the moon rose, the latter 
 had geared his horses, and just when I was 
 enjoying the sweetest dreams of the treasure so 
 newly found, she was spirited away by her grisly 
 protector whom I rejoiced to find was not her 
 father but, in what direction, Yannaker cither 
 could not or would not say. I immediately de 
 clared my purpose to pursue, and requested that 
 he would have my horse brought out. He looked 
 at me with open mouth, and a chuckling "haw ! 
 haw ! haw !" that promised to correspond with 
 the boundless dimensions of his distended throat. 
 I became impatient, and with some peevishness 
 demanded the occasion of sa much unreasonable 
 and unseasonable merriment. 
 
 "What! go?" he asked. 
 
 "Yes, sir, go! and what is there so very 
 laughable in such a determination ?" 
 
 He composed his muscles instantly. 
 Not before breakfast, oh ! no ! I m sure of 
 
HELEN I1ALSEY. 27 
 
 you till then. Why, breakfast is a good thing, 
 the best of things on an empty stomach break 
 fast is a warm thing, the warmest of things for a 
 winter day. Why, stranger, no man s brains do 
 good service, unless breakfast has warmed his 
 belly ; and, I tell you, even the horse, besides, 
 knows when his master is well filled and sensible, 
 and when he is not. Let a good horse alone for 
 that. Why, lad, the best horse I ever knew or 
 crossed, would always cut capers when a man 
 undertook to straddle him who happened to be 
 hungry ; no horse of mine should ever be crossed, 
 if I know d it, by a man who hadn t had his break 
 fast." 
 
 " It so happens, Mr. Yannaker " 
 "Plain Yannaker plain Yannaker," he said 
 interrupting me. 
 
 " Well, then, plain Yannaker " 
 
 "Ha! h^l ha! That s it. You re right I 
 like you the better for it. Say * plain Yannaker, 
 if you please, in preference to Mister Yannaker." 
 " 1 say, then, plain Yannaker, that my horse is 
 not yours, and neither knows nor cares whether 
 I have had my breakfast or not." 
 
 " Wouldn t have such a horse, stranger, as a 
 gift. By the Lord Harry, I wouldn t. But don t 
 be wolfish at Jeph Yannaker. Here s your 
 breakfast, and your horse shall follow it, as soon 
 after as you please only, let me tell you you re 
 clean mistaken. Never was a horse yet that 
 didn t know whether his master was fed or not 
 
28 HELEN 11ALSEY. 
 
 unless he was an idiot beast a clear senseless 
 animal, and I reckon there may be idiot beasts 
 as well as idiot men. There now, sit down to 
 your breakfast, the old woman s poured out the 
 coffee, and all s ready. I ll see to the critter/ 
 
 Jeph Yannaker had a way of his own, as most 
 who knew him know, which there was no resist 
 ing. Ho had the most good humored cast of 
 countenance, the most benevolent smile, the most 
 kind solicitude of manner, yet, if tales speak 
 true, he could cut a purse, and a throat too upon 
 occasion, as promptly as the Pacha of Yannina. 
 Of this, however, in another history. Enoug^ 
 for the reader, that I, a boy of eighteen, found it 
 impossible to be angry with such a person, and 
 he forty-five or fifty. He quieted me in the most 
 persuasive manner, and, seeing me safely seated 
 over my eggs and hominy, in equal good humor 
 with them and with himself, he sallied forth to put 
 my nag in readiness. My breakfast was soon 
 discussed, and my horse at the door. My host, 
 however, did not seem so willing to part with 
 me. I had dropped the usual quid into his hands, 
 saying good humorcdly. 
 
 " There, plain Yannaker, we are quits for this 
 time. * 
 
 He laughed. 
 
 " You are a clever chap, and I somehow like 
 you. We takes a liking for a human every now 
 and then, jest the same as we takes for a fine 
 horse, or a speaking hound ; and I ve got a notion 
 
HEI.KN HALSEY. 29 
 
 that when you give yourself time you re a raal 
 good fellow. Aint you ? " 
 
 " There s more than you who think so," 1 
 answered with boy sharpness. 
 
 " Oh ! git out," said he, " nobody beside your 
 self. But where away, lad ? You re not a guine 
 running after that gal you seed last night?" 
 
 " I am though," I answered doggedly. 
 
 " No, don t. Take an old fool s counsel for 
 once, and save your horse s wind. In the first 
 place you can t find her." 
 
 " I ll try for it." 
 
 " And in the next, if you do, it ll be much worse 
 than shaking hands with a hungry bear that aint 
 willing to be friendly at no time." 
 
 " Indeed ! But what know you of her ? You 
 told me you knew nothing." 
 
 " Well, in one way, that s true enough ; and 
 when you gets to be as old as me, you ll find out 
 for yourself, that a gal child is about the hardest 
 critter in the world to know entirely. But I 
 wasn t speaking of any danger from her, by no 
 means, but of them that, mout-be, you ll find 
 along with her." 
 
 " Ha ! that old uncle of hers ?" 
 
 " Prehaps, and a rough colt, I tell you, to deal 
 with, take him at any turn. Bud Halsey is all 
 bone and gristle, I tell you, from tooth to toe- 
 nail." 
 
 " Is his name Bud Halsey T 
 
 44 Yes, when he comes to Yannaker s, but I 
 
30 HELEN HAIBEY. 
 
 can t answer for it any where else. All I can 
 say is,* that your course lies in any other part of 
 the world than 1 where he is. I say so, lad, for 
 your good, for, as I told you, I somehow likes 
 you." 
 
 " But what is he, friend Yannaker t" 
 
 " He ! He s nothing, as the world goes, but 
 something, I tell you, when he works his grinders. 
 Keep clear of him, that s all. It don t become me 
 to be talking behind the back of a man that pays 
 his way in good money, and I never axes such 
 a man how he gets his money* That s no busi 
 ness of mine. But, to begin agin, and to end, lad, 
 at the same time keep clear of that gal s track ; 
 it can t be that you ve got so deep into the mire 
 at one sight, so there s no reason to go deeper. 
 Go home, and let Bud Halsey s niece marry some 
 body else." 
 
 Yannaker was evidently no sentimentalist. His 
 phraseology, which likened love to a bog, and 
 the lady to a wild beast, or angry cur at least, 
 seemed to me nothing to the purpose, and strange 
 ly savage and unpoetical. I answered him in a 
 way intended to be conclusive, as I flung my leg 
 over the saddle, 
 
 44 Thank you, friend Yannaker, you no doubt 
 mean me kindly, but if Bud Halsey were twice 
 the monster that he seems, I d take his track." 
 
 " Well, it s cl ar, lad, that you ve been pretty 
 much used to having your own way, and such 
 people are never mado wise, but by a little 
 
HELEN IIALSEY, 81 
 
 worry, so go ahead, as quick as you please, 
 only keep your eyes busy, believe nothing that 
 you hear, be scared at nothing that you see, and 
 be ready to treat a man with two legs as if he 
 was an animal with four : for, if you go after 
 Bud Halsey, there s no telling whether man or 
 beast will sprawl first. If you must have the 
 ways of a man, be sure you have tho heart of 
 one. There s no telling how many dangers a 
 stout heart will carry a fellow through." 
 
 Something piqued with the tone of this dis- 
 course, I struck spurs into my steed, and sent him 
 through the gateway, as I replied : 
 
 " Thank you, thank you, friend Yannakcr I 
 have no fears, so do you have none. I trust your 
 eggs won t give out before I return. I shall bo 
 back by Christmas for my egg-nog." 
 
 " Go ahead !" was all of his response which 
 reached my ears, but I could hear him mutter 
 something more, as, shading his eyes with his 
 hands, he watched my progress along the road. 
 
32 HELEN HALSEY. 
 
 .CHAPTER IV. 
 
 MY reader, if he still has in his veins any of 
 the hot blood of his early manhood, will easily 
 understand how the exhortations and warnings 
 of the landlord, so significant and forcible as they 
 were, should have awakened in me the spirit of 
 curiosity, and prompted into activity my natural 
 passion for adventure. My damsel became, in 
 my eyes, the heroine of romance, to be rescued 
 from the bearded giant to be won with feats of 
 arms, and the most reckless audacity* I began, 
 the moment I was fairly out of sight of Yanna- 
 ker s, to examine the neat silver mounted pistols, 
 the property of a dear departed brother 
 which had long been my favorite possession, and 
 which I now carried in the pockets of my over 
 coat* It will amuse, rather than alarm, the 
 reader, to describe these mortal weapons, They 
 were of the smallest calibre, capable tf carrying 
 only a buckshot, and useless for any purpose un 
 less with their muzzles fixed upon the very bosom 
 of an enemy. But I had little experience which 
 could test their value. Like other boys, I had 
 been taught by a tender mother that lead and 
 powder were horridly dangerous things, and that 
 pistols were pistols. As I gazed on the pretty 
 playthings which I carried, and saw that the 
 priming was dry and grainy, I was inspired with 
 
HELEN HAL8EY. 33 
 
 * 
 
 as much confidence in their efficiency as ever 
 had that famous knight I forget his name who 
 wielded Excalibar in that spell-endowed weap 
 on," A dirk-knife, of more respectable dimensions 
 which I wore in my bosom, completed my equip 
 ments in this respect. 
 
 I need not say that I pursued my way almost 
 at random, I have said that four roads diverged 
 into different regions of country, from the area 
 in which the house of Yannaker stood. I had 
 dashed on that which had presented to the casual 
 eye the most obvious carriage track, and with all 
 the ardor and the hope of youth, I followed this 
 route till sunset, when I found myself in front of 
 a wigwam, in the door of which stood a haggard 
 woman, scarce oblo to move, bearing in her 
 countenance all the proofs of a severe visitation 
 of autumnal fever. From her I learned that no 
 carriage had passed that day, and, indeed, beforo 
 I mado tho inquiry, I had lost all fresh traces 
 along the road of tho vehicle, which I had set 
 out to follow. Here was a quandary. To re 
 turn then was out of the question. My love and 
 romance together failed to inspire me with any 
 desire for riding back over such a road, and on a 
 night which promised to be equally cold and 
 starless. To go farther was idle, considering 
 my objects, and I gathered from the woman of 
 the house that her dwelling was the only one on 
 that road within fifteen miles. I was perforce 
 compelled to remain where I was, a necessity 
 which, when I saw the cheerlesgness of the in- 
 2* 
 
84 HELE* HALdEV. 
 
 tenor, was felt to be even heavier than the pro 
 tracted journey, ^ut for my faithful horse, I had 
 taken the back track, and seen plain Yannaker 
 by the next day s dawn. 
 
 I must hurry over the next three days. They 
 were unmarked by any event of importance. 
 Nothing had occurred having any bearing on my 
 purpose, nor did I feel or find myself, up to this 
 time, one step nigher to the fair object who was 
 still the warmest and most vivid presence in my 
 imagination. I had, meanwhile, retraced my 
 course to Yannakcr s, heard more of his warnings 
 with as little heed, tried another of the roads 
 diverging from his house with as little profit, and 
 now, in a third d rection, was laboring at the 
 close of day among the swamps of Choctaw- 
 hatchie. That night, the brown heath and dried 
 leaves formed my bed, my canopy was the tree 
 and sky, while a rousing fire at my feet, and in 
 front of my horse, served to keep at a distance 
 any beasts of prey which might have been dis 
 posed to disturb us. I confess I slept little. I 
 had not so much faith in the effect of fire upon 
 wolf and tiger. I was in a region where they 
 still were found, and what with seeing to the 
 comforts of my horse, gathering brands, and try 
 ing to keep warm, the morsels of sleep which I 
 caught were equally small and unsatisfactory. 
 It was more refreshing to me to get fresh glimpses 
 of another day. 
 
 Once more afoot, and with the dawn. My 
 
^ LIELEN HALSliY. 35 
 
 brave steed had borne the privations of the night 
 better than myself. At least he wore a more 
 cheerful aspect in the morning and this encour 
 aged me, I dashed forward with that neck-or- 
 nothing philosophy which feels itself prepared for 
 whatever may turn up, though with a lively hope 
 that ijt may take the shape of breakfast. No man 
 can endure long the want of hunger as well as 
 sleep. One or other he may stand with toler 
 able fortitude for thirty-six hours, chewing the 
 cud of his reflection, in the absencS of tenderer 
 meats, but denial of both, for such a period, will 
 go nigh tq unnerve and undo the bravest. Just 
 then, however, I felt very sure there was no 
 standing hunger half so long The idea of a 
 smoking breakfast, I modestly confess, had put to 
 slumber, for the time, certain other far more sub 
 limated ideas. 
 
 I had not to ride far perhaps some eight 
 miles before I found my breakfast. This was 
 at an Indian cabin, as miserable a mud hovel as 
 ever engendered vermin, arid reduced humanity, 
 a willing victim, to their ravages. My host was 
 a half-breed, one of those dark, untamed, surly 
 savages, such as the Indian, with a white cross, 
 almost invariably becomes. He placed my food 
 before me as if it was poison. His looks, indeed, 
 seemed to defeat its alimentary properties, for I 
 ate with suspicion, and it did little help to my 
 digestion. Fortunately, my horse found no such 
 fault with his corn and fodder, probably because 
 
30 HELEN HALSEY. 
 
 he looked at them rather than the hands by which 
 they were furnished. My host eyed me in 
 silence, took my money with the air of one who 
 would just as lief take ray life, and watched my 
 departure from his door with the indifference of 
 one who is assured that it must be taken wherever 
 I may go. My reflections, owing to sleeping in 
 the woods, starvation, bad food, and sulky savages, 
 had become far less audacious, knight-errantlike, 
 and consolatory than usual. There was but one 
 remedy for them, and that lay in the spur at my 
 heels. I touched up the sides of my horse, whom 
 a hearty breakfast had rendered somewhat dull, 
 and on we went, dashing through a region that 
 not only grew more wild, but more watery at 
 every step* The conviction that a river was at 
 hand, reminded me that my incognita had said 
 that she lived beside one, and this memory, with 
 the increased rapidity of my motion, served to 
 disperse, in some degree, my disquieting reflec 
 tions. 
 
 It was towards midday, when I was suddenly 
 startled by sounds, like those of a horse, at some 
 little distance before me, This led me to prick 
 up rny senses a little, and feel in my pockets for 
 my pistol*, 
 
 But, just then, I had no need of them. A mo 
 ment more shewed, and dissipated, the occasion 
 of my alarm. Man and horse .came suddenly in 
 sight, wheeling out from a little Indian trail, a 
 little ahead, and on the right hand of tho path 
 
HELEN IIALSEY. 37 
 
 which I was pursuing. The horse was a miser 
 able hack, driven to the top of his speed which 
 was no great matter, by the unrelaxing applica 
 tion of whip and spur. The rider was evidently 
 engaged in a race for life. He was a small per 
 son, well wrapped up in clothes, with a brand-new 
 beaver on his crown, and a smart whip with an 
 ivory handle in his grasp. His boots and unmen 
 tionables, originally of city make and good cloth, 
 had been in close acquaintance with the tenacious 
 yellow mire, which was abundant enough at 
 every turning. His face was sharp and his eyes 
 vigilant ; at an ordinary time, and under ordinary 
 circumstances, it is probable that their expression 
 was sufficiently shrewd and sagacious, but just 
 then, it was pale with fear, and expressive of no 
 other quality. The man was evidently half- 
 scared to death. I drew up and faced him. Ho 
 would have dashed aside in consternation, regard 
 ing me as an enemy ; but my voice arrested and 
 somewhat quieted him. Besides, huving uncon 
 sciously planted my heavier steed directly across 
 the track, no spurring or whipping that he could 
 use, could force forward the feeble animal he 
 rode. Ho was accordingly, breathless and look 
 ing back, compelled to stop. 
 
 To -make a long story short, he had been robb 
 ed, most civilly, according to his own account, 
 some three hours before. His business had been 
 to collect certain monies, in which object he had 
 succeeded. The money a considerable amount 
 
38 HELEN HAL8EY. 
 
 had been promptly paid him by his debtor, from 
 whom he had taken leave and gone upon his way 
 rejoicing. But he rejoiced not long. An hour had 
 not elapsed, ere he was accosted by the rogues, 
 two in number, and they women. 
 
 44 Women r I exclaimed with equal astonish 
 ment and mirth. The pitiful fellow shrunk be 
 neath my glance, and made a stammering expla 
 nation which half excused him. According to 
 his belief they were women only in costume. 
 Like the worthy Welshman, in the case of Fal- 
 staff he " liked not when a omans has a great 
 peard ; he spied a great pcard under her mufiler." 
 One of the rogues, it seems, had been so indifferent 
 to propriety of costume, as to make her toilet with 
 out shaving ; and a grisly beard a month old, had 
 made the pistols which she presented to the breast 
 of the collector, doubly potent in his eyes. The 
 pistols were clearly masculine. Having relieved 
 him of his pleasant burden, they laid a hickory 
 over his own and horse s back, a mode of objur 
 gation which horse and man seemed equally pre 
 pared to comprehend. lie heard but the one 
 comforting assurance that they gave him at part 
 ing, that if he only dared to look back for an in 
 stant, like Lot s wife, they d salt him forever. He 
 had ridden some fifteen miles since leaving them, 
 taking care to incur no such penalty. His far 
 ther information, was of some color for my own 
 prospects. He gave it ns his opinion, that the 
 whole region, which he had fancied a quasi 
 
HELEN HALSEY. 39 
 
 wilderness, was alive with rogues -that the set 
 tlement was quite a numerous one that they oc 
 cupied every fastness and place of cover, and re 
 treat hammocks and islets in the swamps and 
 river 
 
 " And every alley green, 
 Dingle, or bushy dell, of this wild wood, 
 And every bosky bourn from side to side." 
 
 They were a vast community, kept together by 
 the common object and necessity, roving always 
 in concert, and sworn against all laws and all 
 honesty. He did not scruple to declare his con 
 viction, though this he did in a whisper, and with 
 an eye cast furtively around him, that even his 
 debtor, who had paid up so promptly, was of the 
 very same fraternity, who had only paid so readi 
 ly because he well knew that his associates, 
 would very soon put him again in possession of 
 the same money. 
 
 " And who was your debtor 1" I asked with 
 some indifference, as a matter of course, and al 
 most heedless of the answer. 
 
 " His name s Bush Halsey." 
 
 I felt my cheeks glow again. 
 
 ** Bush Halsey? are you sure it is not Bud 
 Halsey?" 
 
 " Oh, yes ! He s got a brother named Bud Hal- 
 sey." 
 
 ** And where s he? Is he here in tne swamps V 
 
 ** No, I guess not. I heard of him night afore 
 
40 lir.i.r.N HAl.Hf.Y, 
 
 lost, down to thcr side of the 4 nation/ but he s 
 gone below." 
 
 44 Gone below ? where ?" 
 
 14 1 can t guess." 
 
 14 And how shall I find this Bush llalscy ? M 
 
 Tho poor fellow was unwilling or unable to give 
 me directions, His fright revived when he re* 
 collected some threats that were thrown out, of 
 future treatment, if he dared to reveal anything in 
 relation to, tho robbery, and my anxiety to get in 
 telligence, ami my determination to go forward, 
 expensed in npito of IUH counsel to tho contrary 
 now seemed, ull on a sudden, to impress him with 
 the belief that I was one of the gang, and no bet 
 ter than I should bo, An attempt which 1 made 
 to got some further information touching tho lltit- 
 scys, only rendered him more anxious to shake 
 oil an acquaintance? who might think proper, at 
 some sudden moment, to finish those feminine 
 proceedings which had been begun in the swamps ; 
 and, seeing his disquiet, I wheeled my horse out 
 of his path, and bidding him God speed, boldly 
 turned into, (ho dark, narrow avenue out of which 
 ho itad emerged* 
 
HELEN HAL8ET. 41 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 I WAS certainly about to pursue, with sufficient 
 audacity, a career, which, with sufficient audacity, 
 I had begun. The romance of the thing was still 
 uppermost in my mind. The truth is, that youth, 
 unaccustomed to trials of its own, is not always 
 persuaded of the realncss of danger. There is 
 always a hazy indistinctness about the wild events 
 of which it reads or hears, which, touched by the 
 worm rays of an unrestrained imagination, be 
 comes a glory in its sight, and effectually hides 
 from view the cloud and storm from which it has 
 arisen. I was moving forward as one in a dream. 
 Accustomed to a life of security, and to the even 
 progress of the day, unbroken by anything un 
 usual, and secure from any evils which are not 
 common every where to life, I could not and did 
 not yield my belief to the strange stories which I 
 heard. That they were commended to my fancy, 
 was natural enough, as they came clothed with 
 the hues of the picturesque and novel. But that 
 they were real, actual, living and daily ocurring 
 things that here, in America in our matter of 
 fact, monotonous, prosaic day, there were bona- 
 fide brigands, such as we read of in italy, was 
 a matter not so easy to be brought, within the 
 compass of belief. Thinking from my feelings, I 
 
42 HELEN HALSCY. 
 
 judged the affair of the fellow with whom I had 
 just parted, to have been some clever practical 
 joke of some dare-devils, exaggerated by his un 
 manly terrors, and hereafter to be explained when 
 the trick had been sufficiently played. Then the 
 robbery had been committed by women, Only 
 think of my being bid to stand by my own little 
 incognita ! The fancy made me laugh outright, 
 and I felt very certain that, in such an event, I 
 should take to her arms, with the full purpose of 
 using my own. I did not actually wish to en 
 counter her in the character of a footpad, but I 
 felt that such an event would not be entirely with 
 out its pleasant accompaniments. A Wrestle 
 with her did not seem an affair to inspire terror ; 
 and, laughing at the conceit, I dashed forward, 
 muttering from Dick, the apprentice, 
 
 4 Limbs do your office and support me well, 
 Dear me to her, then fail mo if you can." 
 
 Filled with such pleasant musings, I had ridden 
 probably three quarters of nn hour, after parting 
 with the Collector, and in this time I had over 
 come an interval of four miles not more, for 
 the road, originally an Indian trail, was broken by 
 numerous bottoms, mucky places, of which the 
 reader will form a sufficient idea from the dis 
 tich written with coal, upon the blaze of a tree, 
 which stood fronting a place of similar character, 
 called Cane Tructa, through which I once had to 
 pass : 
 
HELEN 1IAL8EY. 43 
 
 " Here s h 11, aud it 
 To go through yit." 
 
 The citizen would only need to gaze upon such 
 a spot and acknowledge the same necessity, to 
 feel the force and propriety of such an inscription. 
 The poet was worthy of the subject, and that is 
 no mean praise. I had gone through some three 
 or four of these miry gulphs, which the most 
 reverent nature would be very apt, involuntarily, 
 to liken to the infernal regions, Acheron and 
 Styx though none of them was so bad as Cane- 
 Tructa, and had at length emerged upon a high 
 and beautiful knoll of green, the sloping edges of 
 which were fringed with dense barriers of cane, 
 their feathery tops waving gently, like the plumes 
 of so many gigantic warriors, and was ad* 
 vancing, in an easy lope, into an area, about two 
 hundred yards round, on which trees seemed 
 never to have grown, when my horse suddenly 
 stopped short, and shyed half round, while his 
 elevated head and cars attested some occasion of 
 alarm, I raised my eyes, and discovered direct 
 ly on the path in front, squat upon a log, the butt 
 end of which was thrust out from the opposite 
 forest, a man in a grey overcoat, with slouched 
 hat, and a huge rifle which lay directly across his 
 thighs. The suddenness of the encounter a little 
 staggered me ; but, remembering my fanciful 
 philosophies, and the ludicrous plight of the Col 
 lector, I soon recovered myself, and determined 
 promptly to yield myself to any mirthfulness 
 
44 HELEN IIAL8EY, 
 
 which the mischievous nature of men. in such 
 situations, might be Disposed to practice. But as 
 soon as I got nigh enough to notice the ex- 
 yet features of the man before me, I arrived at 
 the conclusion, instinctively, that he was no ama 
 teur. He was one of those men, whom we know 
 at a glance, as persons of downright, serious busi 
 ness, who never laugh, who know nothing in 
 life but its necessities, and regard all things and 
 all persons, with that hard-favoured earnest 
 ness, which looks directly and only to the most 
 slavish cnlls, whether of a hunger that needs, or 
 an appetite which lusts. He neither moved limb 
 nor muscle as I approached, yet I could see that 
 his eyes observed me keenly. The reader will 
 be pleased to remember that I am of the sanguine 
 temperament a temperament which acts prompt 
 ly, without much reflection, from a spontaneity, 
 the result, it would seem, of a corresponding and 
 equal activity of mind and feeling* The truth is, 
 such persons think with as much rapidity as they 
 move, and if rightly trained to habitually just 
 thinking, their impulsive movements are very apt 
 to be quite as correct in their tendencies as if they 
 were made under the most deliberate exercise of 
 thought and will. This is said to account for my 
 conduct on the present occasion. It did not appear 
 , to me that I thought at all of what I should do. 
 But the resolution and the performance were one. 
 As I approached the stranger slowly, I threw my 
 left leg over, so as to sit entirely upon the right, 
 
HELEN 11ALSEY. 45 
 
 thus facing him fully as I drew nigh. This is a 
 favorite mode in the Southern country of sitting 
 a horse, when the rider meets with a friend, or 
 with any one in whom he has confidence, or 
 with whom he is disposed to linger and converse. 
 It shows that there is no trepidation and no 
 desire of flight. Sitting thus, I approached 
 the fellow, and stopped my horse directly be 
 fore him. He looked up at me with a savage 
 sort of inquiry in his glance, as if to say " what 
 next ?" I did not suffer him, however, to put the 
 question in words, but proceeded in the following 
 manner : 
 
 "I have but one question, stranger, before I 
 begin, and that is, * am I safe here from a sheriff 1 ? 
 Be quick and tell me, for I must ride until I am." 
 
 " And what makes you afraid of a sheriff?" 
 
 " You re not one, I hope ?" 
 
 " Rather guess not." 
 
 44 Very well ! Now then do you ever see one 
 here?" 
 
 " No ! They take root here but never grow. 
 A deputy came here once, from somewhere be 
 low ; they planted him, but he never come up." 
 
 44 Good ! I need go no farther then ;" said I, 
 dropping from my horse, and taking a seat beside 
 him on the log. 
 
 "Whar* are you from?" he asked. 
 
 44 Tennessee." 
 
 44 What s brought you here ?" 
 * "This I" said I, jerking my horse s bridle as I 
 
46 HELEN HALBEY. 
 
 spoke. The fellow glowered upon me, with looks 
 that showed he was no joker, as he responded 
 
 " You mean to say you come on him ?" 
 
 ** Not exactly, though I did come on him. But 
 the horse caused my coming here. I made a 
 swap, giving that nag, which you see is a fine 
 one, with a fellow at muster, who traded me a 
 creature that had spavin. We didn t see it at 
 first, for he was warmed with riding. But going 
 off from muster I stopped at a friend s house, 
 where I sat an hour. Meanwhile the horse had 
 cooled off, and was as stiff in her joints as if 
 they were made of ridge poles. I had got on a 
 mile farther, hardly able to get along, when who 
 should come by but Backus, the fellow I had 
 swapped with. When I saw my own fine animal 
 that he was riding, and felt that I could hardly 
 hobble along with the one I rode, I got down 
 and stopped him, jerked him from the beast, and 
 we got to blows, Somehow ho got a knife in 
 him, and I got my horse back. People would 
 have it twas my knife did the mischief, and there 
 was an inquest, and a warrant and all that sort 
 of thing, and so I sloped but look you, you re 
 sure you re not a sheriff or a deputy ?" 
 
 "And if I was? 1 
 
 I grappled him by the throat in an instant, and 
 drew my dirk, which flourished in his eyes before 
 he could say " Jack Robinson !" 
 
 "Hold off, stranger!" he exclaimed, grasping 
 my arm. " I m no sheriff and no deputy. D n 
 
HELEN HAL8EY. 47 
 
 the breed, I m just as much afraid of em as 
 you." 
 
 " Well you spoke in time !" I said, with a half 
 subdued fierceness of look " it s no time to play 
 with a man when his neck s in a plough line." 
 
 It required no small effort, I assure you, to 
 compose my muscles and carry on this game 
 without laughter. But I felt that it was now ne 
 cessary. If my neck was not absolutely in a 
 halter, it was very clear to me that my life was 
 not in a state of absolute security. One glance 
 at the ruffian at my side, had served to dissipate 
 all my romantic fancies. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THUS far I had carried out my assumed cnar- 
 acter, with tolerable success. I had certainly 
 lied with a natural grace and readiness that did 
 not need a prompter, and I had the satisfaction to 
 see that my new comrade, in his own mind, took 
 me to be as great a scoundrel as himself. I 
 somewhat blushed for myself, as I became as 
 sured of this, but blushing then was no part of my 
 policy. I was in for it, and had to go through. I 
 remembered the counsel of old Yannaker at part- 
 
48 HELEN HALSEY* 
 
 ing, and salved the hints of conscience by reflect 
 ing that I was in the rogues atmosphere. Every 
 step I took with my companion left this matter 
 less in doubt. Though by no means a garrulous 
 fellow, really, a fellow of few words, he con 
 trived, in those few words, to give me insight in 
 to many and very strange things. Assuming that 
 the circumstances under which I had sought re 
 fuge in the swamp, and my own inclination, had 
 already m^adc me one of the fraternity, he gave 
 me a brief but comprehensive history, of their 
 doings and ways of life. What had been told me 
 by the Collector was fully confirmed. The re 
 gion in which I wandered, was possessed by a 
 community of rogues. They were numerous and 
 extensively connected throughout the country, 
 some of them had absolute wealth; and children, 
 born in this American Alsatia so long had it 
 been a realm of outlawry, were now grown to 
 manhood. What a history was here. I asked 
 myself, while my cheek glowed again, -was my 
 beautiful unknown, one of these ? Had she drawn 
 her infant breath among such scenes, such rogues 
 had such always been her connections, and 
 in what degree had she escaped the contamina 
 ting influence of such an atmosphere of crime. 
 The robbery of the Collector, by persons in fe 
 male garments, now struck me as it did not 
 when i first heard of it with a sort of horror. 
 I could feel the enormousncss of the crime, com 
 mitted by women, when I thought of her, as one, 
 
HELEN 11AL9EY. 49 
 
 who might be in training for like practice. But 
 when I thought of her more particularly when 
 I remembered that night her shy and timid air 
 her subdued and gentle accents, and the ten 
 derness that spoke out equally in eye and voice, 
 I was re-assured. I felt happy in the convic 
 tion that no sort of human training, could pervert 
 such an exquisite work of heaven. 
 
 Enough of this, and let us hurry forward. 
 We were on our way together into the recesses 
 of the swamp. This was an admirable recepta 
 clea retreat, in which pursuit of one, familiar 
 with the region, would be undertaken by a thou 
 sand men in. vain. Pursuing a zigzag and con 
 tinually changing course for several miles, I yet 
 conjectured that we were not more than one 
 mile from the spot where we started. A long 
 dim avenue, led us as through some lonely cor 
 ridor, into a spacious area, a chamber almost sur 
 rounded by water, opening only upon one defile, 
 which might be guarded by a single man. Here 
 and there were nooks, closets, as it were, of 
 forest, which one might select for studio or dress 
 ing room, and be secure from passing interrup 
 tion ; and anon, you had larger fields of opera 
 tion halls fit for courtly audience vast parlors, 
 of green wall and azure ceiling.. But the reader 
 must conceive for himself, what the rapidity of 
 such a narrative as this, will not suffer me to 
 describe. Enough, that love could not easily 
 contrive such a labyrinthine bower, for the safe- 
 3 
 
50 jn;u:v IIALBEY. 
 
 ty of tho beloved ono, with oil the appliances ot 
 art at his bidding, and all tho resources of impe 
 rial wealth at his command. Woodstock was a 
 fool to tho swamp city of Conelachita ! 
 
 By little and little I made new discoveries. 
 Hero was art as well as nature* Sometimes 
 little tents of bush would appear,- snug cottages 
 fur a niiifflo Blooper, Anon cnmo a more perma 
 nent if not a more pleasing hovel, made of logs 
 and claj% Here a horse would be seen fastened 
 his saddle and bridle hanging to the tree above 
 him \ how a face would peer out from tho copse 
 beyond us, IIH tho trampling of our steeds would 
 become audible I uml now a whittle, or tho bark 
 of a dog, would announce our approach, to dis- 
 tant echos, which would be sure always to be on 
 the watch, to take it up, and repeat the signal to 
 others yet beyond. All this was so much ro 
 mance, which made me half forgetful of the risks 
 
 I incurred, and of tho policy 1 wan to purnue in 
 order to escape them. 
 
 At length, my conductor came to tt halt. 
 
 II Here," said he, "let us hitch wo must take 
 boat here*" I stopped, got down, and followed 
 his example. Wo fastened our homes to swing* 
 ing llinbn, and net forward. I discovered that wo 
 were on a sort of islet, on the edge of a river a 
 dark, deep, but narrow stream, which whirled by 
 us with the rapidity of a four knot current, car 
 rying along with it reeds and branches, and 
 sticks, tho tribute of numerous shores, on tho 
 
HELEN IIALSEY. 51 
 
 several creeks above, A neat little dug-out, capa 
 ble of carrying two persons only was fastened at 
 the landing. You can paddle your hand I sup 
 pose?" said my conductor. Could I not? I 
 could have paddled both hands. It was one of 
 my favorite exercises from my earliest youth, on 
 my own noble river, the Alabama. I answered 
 him by taking my seat in the. little bark, that 
 danced like an egg-shell upon the whirling cur 
 rent, " She s a clean critter," said my compan 
 ion with evident satisfaction. His praise was 
 deserved. A better balanced canoe, of better 
 proportions for such a stream, I had never beheld. 
 It was a pleasure to send her forward, and we 
 found no difficulty in crossing the river; but, 
 having made the opposite shore, wo followed it 
 up, until we passed into the mouth of a creek, a 
 broad but sluggish stream. This we ascended 
 for half a mile or more, when we drew up to some 
 tolerably steep banks, jumped ashore, and hauled 
 the canoe into a crevasse, which might have been 
 the work of hands. We had not gone far when 
 we heard a voice. The person did not appear, 
 and the language used was a sort of gibberish 
 beyond my comprehension. It seemed to be un 
 derstood, however, by my companion, who turn 
 ed aside at once, and entered upon another path. 
 Here wo met another person who regarded me 
 attentively, but went forward without a word. 
 The next moment we encountered two women, 
 possibly the very feminine rogues who had robb 
 ed the Collector, but if they were, they had taken 
 
52 HELEN IIALSEY. 
 
 cnre to shavo thonm lveii ninco they ihavod him, 
 for their china, and I examined them heed- 
 fully as they past were quite as clean as his 
 pockets. They did not pass in silence, however, 
 but had a few words of common-place, and a nod 
 and a smile to me. They were young too, the 
 jades, but quite ugly enough to have frightened 
 the Collector, without rendering necessary the 
 show of pistols. A whistle, once, twice, thrice, 
 repeated, at stated periods and places, now notified 
 our approach to higher personages, and emerg 
 ing from the avenue into an area, we came upon 
 a group of live men, who seemed to be busy 
 about a canoe of considerable dimensions, which 
 was yet in the log, though the burning and hewing 
 had been begun. One of them, who was stooping 
 over the log, seemed to be engaged in describing 
 the outlines. Ho rose from his stooping posture 
 as wo approached, and discovered to mo a person 
 not only of large frame, but of imposing presence. 
 He was over six feet in height, broad breasted, 
 sinewy and muscular, with limbs of admirable 
 symmetry, which his costume, which was all of 
 buckskin, made Indian fashion, showed off to great 
 advantage. His coat was a hunting shirt thickly 
 fringed ; no longer fresh in its original bright yel 
 low, but subdued by exposure to the weather, to 
 an uniform umberous aspect. There was no 
 covering on his head, the hair of which, though 
 thick and long, was white as cotton. His beard, 
 which spread over his bosom in thick curling 
 folds and masses, was such that, if I had not felt 
 
HK1.KN I1ALSEY. 53 
 
 sure that he was only a great rogue, would have 
 led me to suppose that he was a great patriarch, 
 His eyes were large, deeply set, and of a clear 
 dark blue. His nose was Roman, his mouth 
 small and expressive, and the whole expression 
 of his face that of benignity, and a conscience 
 quite nt rest with his fellows and the world. I 
 may add that, as he wore neither stock nor neck 
 cloth, there was scarcely anything in his costume 
 or appearance, to remind mo of civilized life, and 
 yet, even with his habit borrowed from the In 
 dian, there was quite as little of the savage. 
 The picturesque in his guise, and its noble sim 
 plicity, according so happily with his features and 
 his frame, effectually relieved his appearance of 
 that which might otherwise, in my sight, have 
 seemed strange and unnatural. He extended his 
 hand at my approach, a slight change of expres 
 sion from interest to civility, being apparent in his 
 countenance, then, after giving some directions to 
 the workmen, he drew aside with my late com 
 panion. A few moments only had elapsed when 
 he returned, having, as it would seem, in that 
 time, gathered from the latter all the knowledge 
 which he had respecting me. He again gave me 
 his hand, and drew me aside from the rest. 
 
 " You have been unfortunate, young man/ 
 said he. " and I am sorry for you. There can 
 be no greater misfortune than taking life, particu 
 larly at your age. But Fry tells me you had 
 provocation. Pray, how was it ?" 
 
 I had to begin anew tho work of invention. 
 
M HELEN UALSEY. 
 
 Of course, my jtory, in substantial particular*, 
 must be the same as I had told before. But 
 there was a difference, which I soon discovered, 
 between my present and former companion, 
 while, to the latter, I appeared reckless ; to the 
 former, as a man evidently belter acquainted 
 with human nature, I adopted another tone. He 
 had himself indicated my cue, when he spoke of 
 the provocation Which I had received. He knew 
 enough of the superior nature and education 
 which I felt that I could not, and did not wish to, 
 conceal to be aware that no such crime is ever 
 committed by such in wantonness, or from tho 
 mere brutal instinct of passion. There must be 
 provocation and hot blood, in the case of tho 
 educated man with very few exceptions be 
 fore he will do murder* I framed my story ac 
 cordingly. He heard me patiently, and I was 
 particularly careful to say no more than was 
 necessary. This is the great secret in lying suc 
 cessfully. When I had done, he took me kindly 
 by the hand. 
 
 " Here you are safe,** said he, M as long as you 
 choose to remain. You know what we are, and 
 must abide by our law?. We ask you for no 
 participation in our practices, unless your own 
 will inclines you that way, which I would not 
 encourage. This % affair may blow over your 
 friends may succeed in hushing it up, and then 
 you may return in safety to your family. Nay, 
 even we may do something towards this result, 
 
HELEN HAL8EY. 55 
 
 however strange you may think ii. Outlaws 
 ourselves, we have friends not only amouj those 
 who obey, but ihosc who administer the u ws. 
 What is your name, and from what part of 
 Tennessee do you come ? Let me know these 
 particulars, that we may institute an inquiry, and 
 see what can be done for you at home. * 
 
 Here was a dilemma. But there was no time 
 for delay. It was necessary to answer promptly, 
 I gave my name as Henry Colman, of Franklin 
 County, West Tennessee. It was fortunate for 
 me that I knew something, personally, of this 
 region, for it appeared so did my examiner, and ho 
 subjected me to a keen scrutiny, in which I did not 
 dare to falter. My answers seemed satisfactory, 
 He pressed my hand, and bade me go along with 
 him, and we rejoined the persons we had left. 
 
 To these I was not introduced, and he only re 
 mained with them long enough to give some 
 directions on ordinary subjects. This done, he 
 bade me go with him, and we pursued our way 
 together through a long wood, occasionally cross 
 ing branch and creek, upon a rude log or fallen 
 tice. My companion was free of speech, and his 
 conversational resources, I soon found, were 
 equally admirable and ample. He was deeply 
 versed in books he had seen the world, and was 
 not insensible to its refinements. His eye was 
 evidently one accustomed to seek out and dis- 
 criminate the forms of beauty in external objects, 
 and he frequently drew the regards of mine to 
 
5<J flCLLN IlALftBY. 
 
 tliis or that point of view in the surrounding land 
 scape, which was either picturesque or fine. All 
 this, while it increased my respect for him, less 
 ened the impressions which I had received of his 
 objects and associates. I found it more and 
 more difficult, at every moment, to believe in his 
 outlawry. It was all some pleasant jest some 
 queer contrivance of clever people, to produce a 
 laugh at the expense of the credulous ; and with 
 this notioi), I was more than once provoked to 
 blurt out the truth in my own case, and my con 
 victions in theirs, in order to show that I was a 
 little too sagacious to be fooled further than I 
 thought proper. But u lurking grain of prudence, 
 at the bottom of my brains, prevented me from 
 so precipitate a proceeding, Besides, had I not 
 an object was not this Mr. Bush llalsey, and 
 was not Mr. Bush the brother of Mr. Bud Halsey, 
 and did not Mr. Bud Halsey have in charge my 
 beauty of the cloud my fair unknown -the 
 dark-eyed, mysterious damsel of whom I was in 
 search ? But where was she and that grisly 
 personage? Except in size, there was no re 
 semblance between the supposed brothers. I 
 confess that when I recollected the rude staro 
 and deportment of the latter, I was in no great 
 anxiety to meet with him but my desire to seo 
 her rendered me comparatively indifferent even 
 on this head. I was soon to be relieved on some 
 of my doubts. We had now got into a region 
 of upland swamp, which bore some of the marks 
 
HELEN HALSEY. 57 
 
 of a more civilized settlement. A corn-field 
 opened upon right and left, and cattle were low 
 ing down the lane, wigwams appeared in sight, 
 and a troop of barn-fowls were strutting to and 
 fro in all the consciousness of corn and company. 
 Beyond, might be seen a tolerable log-cabin, from 
 which the cheerful smoke was arising, in a long 
 spiral column, through the patriarchal branches 
 of a clump of oaks. 
 
 " Here, sir, is our wigwam. A little rough, 
 but not without its comforts. If we have not the 
 laws among us, we are not without those things 
 which the laws were intended to secure. Here, 
 too, you will find a few books, and if you are a 
 musician, there is flute and violin. I keep them, 
 still, rather as proofs of what I have been, than 
 what I am now though the enjoyment of music 
 is not absolutely inconsistent with the most deso 
 late of human conditions." 
 
 I had observed, prior to this, that, on mor ethan 
 one occasion, the remarks of the senior had run 
 into a melancholy tone ; and I now discovered that 
 there was a subdued expression in his countenance 
 that looked like a settled sorrow. There was no 
 unmanly whining, however, in what he said ; but 
 the incidental and unforced utterance of an habit 
 ual feeling, which, at such moments, was an ap 
 propriate echo to the thought which he had occa 
 sion to express. We entered the house together. 
 It was the ordinary log hovel of the country. The 
 room or Hall upon which we entered was a small, 
 3* 
 
58 HELEN HALSEV. 
 
 snug apartment, fourteen by sixteen. Its chinks 
 were all neatly i covered with clapboards. Its 
 tables were of common pine, its chairs of domes 
 tic fabric also, seated with skins. Several tier of 
 rude shelves on one aide of the apartment contain 
 ed the books of which he had spoken, which were 
 certainly numerous for such a region. There, 
 too, were flute and violin. The window tlierc 
 was but one in the apartment, was glazed and 
 hung with calico, and my eye was fixed upon a 
 slender rocking chair, which was cushioned with 
 calico, and stood very near the fire-place Such 
 a chair could not have supported the huge frame 
 of my host for ten minutes. By whom could it 
 be occupied ? I looked round and listened in 
 vain. The dwelling had evidently no tenants but 
 ourselves. Here was a disappointment. But, 
 the rocking chair was a promise in which I put 
 some faith, and there were other proofs of a fe* 
 male presence around us. There was a bandbox* 
 speaking volumes of itself; and on one of the 
 tables I discovered a little open basket full of 
 squares of calico for quilting, and there was an 
 unfinished stocking, with the bright needles stick 
 ing in it, peering out from a corner of the afore 
 said basket, and these were all signs of a femi* 
 nine presence, which would not allow me to dej- 
 pair. But let us hurry through the day. Mr. 
 Bush Halsey, for I soon discovered" that it was 
 he, indeed, treated me with the most marked at 
 tention. He played the country gentleman to 
 
HELEN HALSEY. 59 
 
 perfection. A servant -came at his summons, a 
 neatly clad old African darne, who proceeded to 
 set the table, and get us refreshments. At times, 
 Mr. Halsey disappeared, leaving me to myself. 
 And when he came in, it was always to renew 
 some interesting conversation, and display his 
 own proficiency in all its topics. I began to be 
 very much pleased with the man, and, but for a 
 natural anxiety which I felt, as to my situation 
 and the result, which gave a little dullness and re 
 straint to my manner, I should have shown my 
 self quite as happy and as much at home, as I had 
 ever done at .Leasidc, That I was dull, Mr. 
 Halsey ascribed to my feelings on the subject of 
 the crime I had reported myself to have com 
 mitted ; and though ho did net discourage such 
 feelings, he addressed himself more than once to 
 the task of strengthening mo under them. His 
 kindness was such that, even on his account, I 
 half repented of the game I was playing. But I 
 had not the courage to stop where I was. Indeed, 
 there was no stopping. The cards, so far, were 
 in my hands but whether the prize deserved or 
 justified the venture, is a question to be solved 
 hereafter. Day passed, the night waned, and my 
 host showed me my apartment. For an hour af 
 ter I had retired, I heard him playing upon the 
 flute, and in such mournful caprices of sound as I 
 never could have conceived before. It seemed 
 to me that, if a heart could ever speak in music, 
 such would have been the strains poured forth by 
 
60 HELfiX IIALHKY, 
 
 a breaking one. This ceased, and I must have 
 slept a little. I was certainly in a doze, when I 
 was startled by an unusual noise. A door was 
 grating, there was a bustle, the tread of several 
 feet, then boxes or trunks were hauled over the 
 floor, and there was a murmur of tongues, sub 
 dued, as if to avoid unnecessary disturbance. This 
 was followed by the opening of another door, and 
 the voice of Mr. Halsey. " Ah ! Helen. Is that 
 you." Scarcely had he spoken, when other ac* 
 cents succeeded, which thrilled through my very 
 soul. 
 
 " Yes, dear father. May I come in?" 
 
 " To be sure 1 " was the reply. 
 
 I could fancy the kiss and the embrace which 
 followed. I could have sworn to that voice among 
 a thousand. The bustle ceased, the sounds died 
 away. There was no further stir that night. But 
 my sloop was gono. Thought was too busy in 
 my head for sloop ; and with tho first poop of 
 dawn I was out of bod ; hut not Noonor than my 
 host. I saw him from my window, moving off 
 towards the swamp, accompanied by tho grisly 
 guardian of my fair one. The tripping of light 
 feet in tho adjoining hall, drew my attention thither. 
 Hurrying my toilut, I cmtwod tho npitrtmcnt, and 
 as I expected, discovered tho object of my search* 
 She sat in that very rocking-chair which had so 
 much interested me the night before. Her back 
 was to me, and she only half looked around as I 
 opened the door. When she saw me she started 
 
HELEN IIALSEY* 61 
 
 to her feet with an exclamation of equal appre 
 hension and surprise. 
 
 44 Ah ! you here !" she exclaimed. " Oh 1 
 wherefore have you come ?" 
 
 " Did I not tell you that I could find you cut- 
 that I would follow r 
 
 ." Oh ! why have you done so V She spoke in 
 manifest alarm, clasping her hands imploringly 
 as she did so. 
 
 " And why not ?" 
 
 44 There is so much danger." 
 
 " I do not care for danger." 
 
 " But why risk it ?" 
 
 44 Because I love you." 
 
 * You love me ? oh, no ! you must not. I am 
 not for you to love. I am a poor girl of the 
 woods. Go, leave me soon. There is danger 
 if you stay. You know not you cannot guess 
 the danger." 
 
 44 No ! There is no danger where you are." 
 
 "I! I, myself, am danger," she exclaimed, 
 with a pretty energy. " The people will not love 
 you here go home to your own. Fly leave 
 us. You cannot go too soon." 
 
 44 Your people shall be my people." 
 
 44 It cannot be. You have your own father, 
 your own mother." * 
 
 44 They shall be yours." 
 
 ** No 1 no ! my father is here 1" 
 
 44 He shall be mine P 
 
 44 Alas I you know not what you say. You 
 
02 HELEN IJ.UBKY. 
 
 know not me you know not him, If you knew t 
 If you only knrw r and she clasped her hands 
 despairingly while she spoke. 
 
 * Nothing could make me love you less. I 
 know you thnt you are beautiful arid very dear 
 to me," 
 
 "Say not so! Leave me. Go your ways 
 while there is yet time. Alas ! I know not if it 
 is not too late already.** 
 
 " It is too late ! I know where I am among 
 whom I am, Helen I know all !" 
 
 " Alas ! ulas I" She covered her face with her 
 
 But I would sooner bo here with you, loving 
 you as I do, than among the civillest people in 
 the world, Only sutler me to love you say 
 that you do not hato me that, were it with your 
 self, you would not have mo leave you." 
 
 44 Why ultoulcl yuu think 1 could hate you? * 
 
 14 1 do not think so. 
 
 " Do not do not." 
 
 " Ah, Helen -could you grant me more. Could 
 you but say that you would receive return my 
 love." 
 
 44 I know not what it is to love." 
 
 44 Let me teach you." 
 
 ** No ! no ! you must go, I am a child I 
 must not listen and hear you talk such things. 
 You do not, cannot know the truth all the truth 
 Hear you, stranger - " 
 
IIEl.K.N I!ALSEY 63 
 
 "Call me not stranger call me friend call 
 me I^enry Colman." 
 
 " Henry is that your name ?" 
 
 How sweetly did she speak the word ! With 
 what interest ! I could almost have renounced 
 my real name forever after that. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Well, Henry, hear me, and believe me. 
 There are bad men here, very bad men they 
 will do you hurt. Go home to your people while 
 you can. You are not safe here." 
 
 " What ! not with your father ? He is good. 
 He will protect me." 
 
 " Yes, he is good. He will do all that he can 
 for you, Henry, but he can not do all. My 
 uncle is a fierce man very violent and it is not 
 always that my father can keep him from doing 
 wrong. Besides, Henry, my uncle likes you not. 
 He saw you at Yannaker s." 
 
 " True, but there s no reason why he should 
 dislike me because he met me there." 
 
 ** No ! but when he frowned, you frowned 
 too ; and he didn t like that. He spoke of you, 
 Oh 1 if he comes back and sees you here I" 
 
 " I shall not fear him, Helen." 
 
 " Beware of him do not make him angry." 
 
 " Let him beware of me !" 
 
 * Hush ! You know not what you say. He 
 is the master here. He rules in the swamp. It 
 is he who has brought my father here. Hark 1 
 
64 ttfcLEN HALSEV. 
 
 They come. Oh ! Henry, that you were gone- 
 gone away a thousand miles from this." 
 
 " You with me, tlelen, and your prayer should 
 be mine." 
 
 She cast upon me but one glance,- but that 
 was sufficient. I felt, from that moment, that I 
 was the master of her heart. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 TIIE moment after, her father and uncle entered 
 the room. The latter looked at me with a keen, 
 stern, searching glance. 
 
 " Who s this ? Who have we here ?* 
 
 He was answered by his brother. 
 
 M The young man, Colman, of whom I spoke 
 to you." 
 
 " Colman i Colman ! I have seen his face be* 
 fore/ 
 
 It was the time for me to speak. 
 
 " You have, sir, at all events, I have seen 
 you. We met a few nights ago at one Yanna* 
 kcr s." 
 
 " Your memory is good, I see,** was his reply, 
 with something of a sneer in his accents. "But 
 what brought you here ? You followed us ! * 
 
 " Scarcely, I think, else I should not have got 
 here before you. My horse had very much the 
 
HELEN HAl> i:Y. 65 
 
 selection of the route to himself. In every re 
 spect he may be said to have brought me here." 
 " And who are you ? What is your name ?" 
 
 " My name is Colman Henry Colman, sir. I 
 am from West Tennessee. I have related to this 
 gentleman all the facts in my history necessary 
 to be known." 
 
 The tone of my speech was intended to show a 
 proper degree of resentment at the abruptness of 
 Ills, and to check the sort of cross-questioning to 
 which he seemed disposed to subject me. His 
 brother interposed. 
 
 " Yes, Bud, you have already heard." 
 
 " True, but what of that. I have no objec 
 tion to hear again. Truth never suffers from 
 twice telling. I know the young fellow has kill 
 ed his man about a horse, and flies here for shel 
 ter from the Sheriff. All very well, and very 
 straight ; but what s the upshot of it, I?oes he 
 expect to remain here forever or does he pro 
 pose at some convenient day to return, and blab 
 every thing that he has seen and heard among 
 those who give him protection." 
 
 "As a man of honor," I began. 
 
 He interrupted me, 
 
 44 Hark ye, lad, were you a spy upon us, you 
 would still insist, if questioned, that you are a 
 man of honor. Perhaps, it is not men of honor 
 that we want, but bondsmen. We deal with 
 our men as the devil is said to deal with them. 
 We take security for their good will to us, by re- 
 
66 HELEN IIALaEY. 
 
 quiring of them the performance of some evil 
 deed to others. Will you commit another crime ? 
 You see I do not mince the matter. Will you 
 join us?" 
 
 I gave a single glance at Helen Halsey. I 
 shall never forget the appealing expression of her 
 dark and dewy eyes. Her hands were clasped 
 her form bent forwdrd, as if waiting for my an 
 swer. That was tolerably prompt. 
 
 "Wha tif I say No ?" 
 
 "Ha! you dare then? and his brow grew 
 black ; the heavy muscles corrugating in little 
 knots above his eyes, like so many young serpents 
 coiled together, while his feet advanced, and his 
 shoulders seemed to work convulsively, as if pre 
 paring for a mighty struggle. I receded a step, 
 and put my hand into my bosom, as I replied : 
 
 "I will not be driven by any man." 
 
 Here, Bush Halsey, Helen s father, interposed, 
 and drew the other aside. His words, which 
 were those of entreaty and expostulation, only 
 reached my ears in part ; but the reply of the 
 other was fierce and loud. 
 
 " You are a fool, Bush, for your pains, and I 
 am a greater fool for submitting to you, as I do. 
 You should not meddle in these matters at all. 
 You have nothing to do with them.- 
 
 Here some words escaped me. Bush Halsey 
 again spoke, and his reply was entirely lost. He 
 spoke for several minutes, interrupted now and 
 then only by some single expletive, uttered some- 
 
HELEN HALSEY. 67 
 
 times in scorn, sometimes in impatience, by the 
 lips of the other. The final speech of the latter, 
 set me at rest for the moment. 
 
 " Have it as you please. But let him not leave 
 your own premises. If I find him prowling 
 where he should not be, let him beware." 
 
 This was intended for my ears, for the glance 
 which accompanied the words, was bestowed 
 wholly upon myself. This said, he took one step 
 towards us, then, suddenly wheeling about, with 
 out a farther syllable to any, he strode from the 
 apartment, A moment before, and Helen had re 
 tired to her room. Her father then approached 
 me. 
 
 " You hear the terms of your stay among us. 
 It makes your retreat a prison, yet that is favor 
 able to your circumstances. No reproach can be 
 urged against you, for remaining where you are 
 under a sort of duresse. For your sake, I am 
 glad that it is so. My brother is a violent man. 
 We differ, as you may see, materially in temper. 
 He has been rendered more violent, and perhaps 
 unjust, by frequent injustice. Indeed, we have 
 both suffered from a like cause ; but it is my for 
 tune still to remain somewhat human possibly, 
 because I have been left one human blessing 
 which was denied to him. I am still a father. 
 But come. Walk with me now, and I will show 
 you your prison limits. You must not suppose 
 yourself without privileges. Your bounds are 
 not too close for sport and moderate exercise. 
 
68 HELEN HALSEY. 
 
 The island which I, occupy is free to you in every 
 quarter, and it is not so small as you might 
 imagine. Come, I will shew you my dominions." 
 Our ramble was a long but pleasant one. My 
 prison was a spacious one, well wooded and 
 watered, completely insulated by creeks, and adj- 
 mirably chosen for the residence of a recluse. 
 My companion carried me to his favorite walks 
 pointed 6ut his fishing traps his choice fishing 
 grounds iii spring and summer a delectable 
 bathing place, and more than one ample area, in 
 which could be seen the implements of exercise, 
 the quoit, the bar, &c., all convenient, and all ar 
 ranged with the eye of experience and art. At 
 certain points of view, I could see men on the op 
 posite side of the creek, engaged in various duties, 
 some sawing or chopping, others busy about boats 
 and other matters, and now and then, one might 
 be seen peering through a copse, as if engaged 
 in no better business than that of seeing what his 
 neighbors were after. The redoubtable Bud 
 Halsey was no where visible. After all, my 
 prison limits were not without their attractions. 
 Every moment with Bush Halsey, proved him to 
 be more and more a man of thought and obser 
 vation. He was full of anecdote, sometimes in 
 dulged in a little fit of broad humor, and was at 
 all times the most interesting companion. And 
 when I thought of Helen, I smiled at the thought 
 which could suppose that I could feel any priva 
 tion, in the same prison bonds with her. 
 
HELEN HALBEY. 09 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 1 PASS over the events of a week a period in 
 which I suffered no annoyance, not even seeing 
 for a moment the person of Bud Halsey. No 
 doubt he was busy at his usual operations. His 
 absence gave me no concern. Never was man 
 happier than myself. Never did time pass so 
 pleasantly. I began to love my venerable host, 
 as well as his daughter. He certainly showed 
 himself a most excellent man. Thoughtful, taste 
 ful, philosophical, his nightly conversations were 
 a rich treat that sometimes made me forget that 
 Helen was by my side. Then, he had a most ex 
 quisite skill in music. His flute, after I retired at 
 night, seemed the voice of some complaining an 
 gel. It was so mellow, so wild, so sweet and 
 spiritually sad. Sometimes, at evening, when 
 Ellen would be absent, he would give me glimpses 
 of his life, and the causes of his present situation. 
 So far as I could gather from him, his worst crime 
 was bankruptcy. He owed money which ho 
 could not pay. His person was threatened, and, 
 with a morbidly keen sense of freedom, that 
 shrunk from the idea of a goal as from degrada 
 tion, he fled tp the uncultivated forests still in pos 
 session of the heathen seeking safety. His child, 
 meanwhile, remained with an aged relative. His 
 brother followed him. but with less innocent con- 
 
70 I! KU .N U AI.SLY. 
 
 science. His hands were stained with blood. Ho 
 had incurred, without hope or excuse, the doom 
 of outlawry outlawry or death ! But, on this 
 subject, Bush Halscy said but little. That he 
 should remain whore he was, and in contact with 
 a brother, whoso deeds he certainly ventured to 
 disapprove, is only to bo accounted for by assum 
 ing for him a certain degree of phlegmatic ir- 
 resoluteness of character. His temperament pos- 
 sessed nothing of the energy which distinguished 
 that of his brother. He was mild, playful and 
 persuasive ; the other harsh, impetuous and com 
 manding, I need not add that, save by bin pre 
 sence, ho had no participation in the doings of the 
 banditti in the midst of whom ho dwelt. If the 
 father improved upon acquaintance, how much 
 more did the daughter. She was, indeed a won 
 drous trciiHuro of the wilderness not mwply 
 beautiful, but NMJJIUMOUM beyond her yearn and 
 Hex, diHguiwing, under thu hnrttliownuii of the 
 dove, the wisdom of the serpent under the sim 
 plicity of the child, the forethought and mature 
 mind on all subjects not conventional of the 
 high souled, intellectual woman. In merely 
 worldly matters, she was a child. She had no 
 concealment* The thought npoku out in hur 
 eloquent eye, ere her lips could utter it the feel 
 ing glowed, with a speech of its own, upon her 
 cheeks, ere yet her mind could embody its char 
 acter in thought. How noun did Hhu show mo 
 that I hud won her heart, and how confidingly, 
 then, did she walk with mo, speak with me, let her 
 
1JELEN HALSEY. 71 
 
 fancy have its utterance, though every syllable 
 and look betrayed her soul s dependence on my 
 own. We rambled and we read together she 
 sang and I listened as if we were both of the 
 same household. We made every foot of our 
 island limits our own. She knew the restraints 
 set upon my footsteps, and when, in the delight 
 of my heart, and the buoyant impulses of my 
 spirit, I would have launched into the canoe, or 
 borne her across the tree that spanned the creek, 
 and conducted to the opposite territory, she caught 
 my hand and restrained me. * 
 
 *" Do you think I fear, Helen ?" 
 
 " But for my sake, Henry." 
 
 For her sake, it seemed to me, as if I could 
 have done or forborne anything. 
 
 Thus we lived, and loved need I say how 
 happily, with how few qualifications. Yet quali 
 fications there were. How was this to end ? The 
 question forced upon me a sort of self-examina 
 tion, which, as it never resulted in my own ac 
 quittal, I never allowed it to be a protracted one. 
 My conscience smote me for the game I was 
 playing with this dear young creature. I really 
 had no purposes. It seemed as if I could have 
 lived with her* and her only, all my life ; but the 
 idea of living all my life in that swamp retreat 
 was unendurable. And to carry home with me 
 as my bride, the daughter of an outlaw, or, at 
 all events, the niece of one, was not to be 
 thought of. I had lived too long in the world of 
 convention not to have acquired certain laws and 
 
70 nr.i.r.s II,U,WI:Y. 
 
 lessons which were fatal to the philosophies of 
 any being so purely unsophisticated as Helen 
 Halsey* Her heart was mine, but not her philo 
 sophies. Yet, truth to speak, I meditated no evil. 
 I did not meditate this matter at all, Life was 
 simply pasBing away in a delightful dream, and I 
 was too much the boy to be willing to disturb its 
 pleasant progress before the necessary time. But 
 there were other qualifications to my enjoyment 
 besides my own reflections. I discovered that my 
 steps wore closely watched, On tho occnnion when 
 I fh Ht tnndu this diNCovory, I hud been standing 
 with Helen on the bluff of a creek, admiring the 
 proportions of as lovely a cockle-shell of a canoe 
 as ever danced over an Indian water, I had been 
 trying to tempt her to enter with me, She had 
 resisted and dissuaded mo, and while wo woro 
 discussing the project, my eye had suddenly 
 caught tho glimpse of a living object directly be- 
 fore me, on the opposite side of the creek. In 
 that quarter the copse was exceedingly dense. 
 Canes and water-grasses grew down to the very 
 lips of the stream, and in the rear was a thick 
 hedge of evergreens, shrubs and brambles, slight* 
 ly sprinkled by heavy timber. A second look 
 betrayed to me a pair of eyes keenly fixed upon 
 our movements. In a moment they had disap 
 peared. I quickly conceived the necessity of 
 saying nothing on the subject of my discovery, 
 and showing nothing in my deportment which 
 could make it apparent to the spy himself. But 
 
HEU:N HALBEY 73 
 
 the circumstance left me less at ease than former 
 ly. Another day, within the same week, turning 
 suddenly a little lane, with Helen, we passed three 
 men, who observed us very closely. One of these 
 men, particularly, struck me as one whom I had 
 seen before, and the manner in which he eyed me, 
 disquieted me, as tending to show that he too wa 
 striving in the work of recognition. But he pass 
 ed on, and, with so many objects to divert and 
 interest my thoughts, it was not likely that this 
 should linger very long in my memory, I am very 
 sure it would not have done so, but for other events 
 of like nature, which kept the recollection fresh. 
 
 Meanwhile, where was Bud Halsey that 
 formidable and fierce bandit? I had seen no 
 thing of him since that parting which had been 
 so nearly a meeting. I was not sorry at his 
 absence, and Helen shared my feelings. 
 
 44 Tin so glad," said she, one day, as we loitered 
 through as close a copse as ever favored the 
 wishes of two foolisK"hearts ; " I m so glad Uncle 
 Bud is gone. Some how, Henry, I tremble when 
 I think of him, on your account. You have 
 defied him, and he don t like you." 
 
 " Nay, he can scarce be offended with me be 
 cause I showed a proper manliness. Besides, 
 what care we ? So long as I do not pass the 
 boundaries, there can be no chance of our quarrel 
 ing, and I m sure, Helen, unless you go with me, 
 I do not care how long I remain in them* I 
 
 could remain here for ever." 
 4 
 
74 HELEN HALSEY. 
 
 a Ah ! you say BO, but " 
 
 " Truth, Helbn. Have I not told you how 
 often how much I love you ? But you, Helen, 
 have not spoken once. Will you not tell me, 
 dearest, that you love me, too ?" 
 
 " Oh 1 no 1 I do not feel as if I could say the 
 
 * But you feel it, Helen ?" 
 
 "Oh! yes, I feel as you could wish me ;" 
 and shd turned and threw herself into my arms, 
 burying her face upon my breast, and weeping 
 unrestrainedly. Reader, were you a boy once ? 
 have you a heart? did you ever love? If 
 yea to these, you understand what I cannot 
 describe that moment of happiness I Until then 
 I had regarded that verse in which Coleridge 
 speaks of a similar event, as an exaggeration. In 
 my silly conceits of convention living among 
 artificial men and women I had thought it 
 wholly out of reason, and all natural laws, that 
 an innocent girl should be so audacious. But that 
 scene convinced me I could neither doubt the 
 love, the truth, or the innocence of that dear 
 child of the wilderness, and sweet and sacred to 
 me now are those nature-prompted lines of the 
 Bard of Genevieve : 
 
 " Her bosom heaved she slept aside, 
 
 As conscious of my look she slept, 
 Then suddenly, with timorous eye, 
 She fled to me and wept. 
 
HELEN HALSEY, 75 
 
 She half enclosed me with her anna, 
 She pressed me with a meek embrace, 
 
 And bending back her head, looked up, 
 And gazed upon my face. 
 
 Twaa partly love, and partly fear, 
 
 And partly twas a bashful ait, 
 That I might rather feel than tee 
 
 The swelling of her heart." 
 
 And thus we stood, thus we clung to each other, 
 forgetting earth, almost forgetting heaven, -if 
 such forgetfulness were possible, at a moment 
 when we were in the enjoyment of that bliss, 
 most like heavenly, the dearest known to earth 
 the full* precious acknowledgment, in the heart 
 that we seek, of that passion which is flaming 
 triumphant in our own 1 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 How long we remained thus, for how many 
 moments she clung thus passionately to my bosom, 
 I cannot tell. The sense of enjoyment seemed to 
 blind and render obtuse all the ordinary senses. 
 I saw nothing, heard nothing, felt nothing, was 
 conscious of nothing, but her sobs, her glistening 
 eyes, upturned and seeming to melt in the intense 
 gazo of my own, and that beating heart, which 
 
70 HELEN H.U.fKY. 
 
 seemed bursting to yield itself to the custody of 
 mine. In that moment we were torn nsundcr. 
 A strong grasp was laid upon my shoulder, and 
 I was hurled to the ground, half stunned, with a 
 heavy knee upon my breast. In the same instant, 
 the savage tones of Bud Halsey told me but too 
 truly whence came the assault. It was under 
 him I lay, with two of his myrmidons* at hand, 
 busy in preparing the ropes which were to bind 
 me. Recovering from her first terror and sur 
 prise, Helen clung to his arms, imploring my 
 release. But he repulsed her with rude hands 
 and bitter accents. 
 
 Away, you are bold, wanton do you not 
 blush do you not hang your head in shame t 
 Have not my own eyes surprised you in the 
 embrace of this traitor ?" 
 
 " Traitor !" was my exclamation. 
 
 M Ay, traitor traitor and liar ! We have dis 
 covered you. You are found out." 
 
 I did not speak. I struggled, but I need not 
 say how fruitlessly. I was in the arms of a giant, 
 and while he held me firmly, his two assistants 
 passed their lines about my wrists, securing my 
 arms behind my back. I was then permitted to 
 rise* 
 
 " There, * said my enemy, with a bitter laugh 
 ter " there, Helen Halsey, behold your lover. 
 Oh ! shame shame upon you, Helen ! What 
 will your father say f 
 
 44 My father! He is here!" she exclaimed, 
 
. HELEN HAL8EY. 77 
 
 with an accent in which delight and suffering 
 seemed equally expressed. " Oh, father 1 how 
 glad I am that you are come. Save him 1 Do 
 not let them hurt him he is innocent !" 
 
 It was at this opportune moment that the father 
 made his appearance. She darted forward as 
 she beheld him, caught his arm and drew him 
 forward. His countenance was marked by doubt 
 and inquiry, and was grave to sternness. Ho 
 gave me but a single glance. 
 
 44 Bud Halscy ! what is this ? Why have you 
 bound the youth?" 
 
 " The serpent ! You have been harboring a 
 serpent in your bosom." 
 *What mean you?" 
 
 "Tis as I thought. This fellow is a traitor 
 a spy upon us. He shall die the death of one." 
 "Oh, no ! no ! He is no spy no traitor." 
 Such was the exclamation of the maid. The 
 uncle turned upon her like a hyena. 
 
 "As for you, Miss, you should he silent for 
 shame. Send her away, Bush Halsey she has 
 no business here. I found her in the arms of this 
 fellow close hugged lip to lip ! Ha 1 did I 
 not?" 
 
 " Helen !" exclaimed the father. 
 The girl s face was covered with her hands 
 her head drooped she seemed ready to sink into 
 the earth. 
 
 44 Go home, Helen !" 
 
 She looked up timidly. 
 
78 HELEN HAL8EY. 
 
 44 Oh, father, you will fiave him? He is no 
 traitor ! He is innocent ! w f 
 
 "Are you T he demanded in freezing accents, 
 
 " Oh ! my father !" she cried in tones of mingled 
 agony and reproach, as she threw herself upon his 
 breast, and hid her face in his bosom. For a mo 
 ment he seemed to press her there, then suddenly 
 pushing her from htm, uttered sternly but the 
 single word " Home I" 
 
 She receded from him, looked at me with a 
 glance of deepest apprehension, then clasping her 
 hands, as if in prayer, moved slowly out of sight* 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 WHEN she had disappeared the father spoke. 
 
 M Now, Bud Halsey, what is all this ?" 
 
 " It seems to me plain enough. Have I not 
 told you ? This fellow is a spy upon us a trai 
 tor. He has lied his whole story is a lie P 
 
 The old man looked at me with stern but sor 
 rowful glance. 
 
 "It is false ! I am no traitor." I had uttered 
 this assurance before had spoken several times, 
 particularly when the rude assault was made up 
 on Helen by her brutal uncle ; but, in my ex- 
 clement, though I very well heard and under 
 stood what was said by everybody else, I knew 
 
HELEN 1IAL3EV. 79 
 
 not well what I said myself. My asseveration 
 now seemed to have very little effect, upon Bud 
 Halscy at least. 
 
 "Oh, my good fellow, we expect your denials. 
 We look for no admissions from you, no truth, 
 as long as a lie will serve your purposes." 
 
 " A lie 1" I exclaimed writhing furiously in my 
 ropes. 
 
 "Ay, a lie! Look not so indignant. at the 
 charge, my lad, we have made the discovery, 
 that a lie comes easy to you. Your invention is 
 good. But you will pay for it. You hang, by 
 all that s powerful, to-morrow morning !" 
 
 "Hang!" said Bush Halsey. 
 
 "Even so!" 
 
 " Pshaw, Bud ! you cannot mean it. You arc 
 not serious ?" 
 
 " As a judge ! as a judge the supreme judge, 
 without appeal, in all this region, I have doom 
 ed him. He dies by sunrise." 
 
 The affair was looking serious. The ruffian 
 continued, interrupting the expostulations of his 
 brother. 
 
 " The long and short of the matter is this. I 
 have discovered that this lad, for his own pur 
 poses, has come among us with a lie in his mouth. 
 Suspecting him at first, I dispatched Monks to 
 Tennessee, to make inquiry as to the truth of the 
 story which he told us. He has been all. through 
 Franklin County, and finds that the Sheriff has no 
 process against any person named Henry Cole- 
 man, that nobody of the name of Backus has been 
 
80 HMJ..V 
 
 murdered there* and tho whole afluir is a mere 
 invention of this ctyap to find his way among us. 
 Now what can be his object but treachery. Ha 
 is a creature of tho Sheriff. He would betray 
 us. Well ! he probably understands the condi* 
 tions of his venture. He must abide them. You 
 know our laws. He too shall know them/* 
 
 " I cannot think the youth an enemy, Bud Hal* 
 sey, and you recollect he is my guest." 
 
 " And you are mine. You have no right to 
 harbor a spy. Our safety makes this necessary. 
 As for his being no enemy, that is possible, but I 
 think him otherwise. Besides, as your guest, he 
 has proved himself unworthy of trust, since he 
 seeks the first opportunity to dishonor your 
 daughter." 
 
 44 You are a foul-mouthed liar!" I exclaimed, 
 M I love Helen Halsey. Never was mortal love 
 less free from taint than mine. This, indeed, 
 brought me here. I met her for the first time at 
 Yannaker s was pleased with her, and set out to 
 find her. Circumstances helped me in the pur 
 suit, and prompted the story which I told. It is 
 true I am no murderer no outlaw. But motive 
 beyond what I have told you, I had none. No 
 thing but an honorable passion has prompted me 
 in what I have done. This alone has brought 
 me here." 
 
 " An honorable passion prompt a lie !" said the 
 outlaw, with a sneer, " But," he resumed, "if this 
 be true, you are ready to marry Helen Halsey?* 
 
HELEN HAL8EY. 81 
 
 His keen eye seemed bent to search me through. 
 The eye of the father also seemed on a sudden 
 to watch me with a new interest. At that mo 
 ment the idea struck me that the whole affair was 
 a precc of practice a conspiracy among them 
 to force me into marriage ; and, with this conjec 
 ture, indignant that I should be thus hampered, 
 and forced into an engagement of the sort, J for 
 got the claims of poor Helen nay, connected 
 her with the scheme suppressed my own strong 
 yearnings for the prize thus proffered me, and re 
 plied doggedly : 
 
 "I would not be compelled to marry an angel.* 
 
 "Nor shall my child be forced on any one, Bud 
 Ilalsey." 
 
 " Pshaw, Bush, you are a child yourself. How 
 know you, man, that the measure is not necessary 
 for her safety. Ay look not so black and scowl 
 ing do you not suppose I feel like yourself? 
 but I say it again to save her to save her from 
 shame !" 
 
 The frame of the old man w^.s violently agi 
 tated. His liptf were blanched to perfect white 
 ness ; for an instant his eyes glared on me with 
 an expression akin to that tiger-look which his 
 brother habitually wore, and he exclaimed : 
 
 " Speak not of this to me, Bud Halsey. I wili 
 not hear it even from your lips. Could I think 
 it true, 1 should do murder myself. But it is not 
 true it cannot be true, Helen is a* pure as 
 any angel 1" 
 
 4* 
 
82 HELEN MAL8EY. 
 
 ** She is P I exclaimed, fervently. 
 
 "Very well ! I am glad to hear it -I am will 
 ing to believe it. i You surely cannot be unwilling 
 to marry an angel ?* 
 
 The old man interrupted the outlaw. 
 
 " I tell you, Bud Halsey, that my child must 
 not be named again in this business/ 
 
 " And I tell you, Bush Halsey, that unless this 
 traitor weds with Helen Halscy by sunrise to 
 morrow, he sees the Inst sunrise of his life. He 
 dies an bour after. Take him away, men, and 
 keep him safe in the new den 1" 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 I WAB seized by a couple of stout ruffians, who 
 me, head and feet, as if I had been a mere 
 sack of straw, and hustled off Mpon their shoulders 
 to the edge of the creek where a boat lay, into 
 which I was tumbled with as little remorse as 
 was shewn to Fallstaff when they emptied him 
 out of the wick-basket into the Thames. They 
 pulled down with me something like a mile, then 
 landed on a sort of island, which seemed to be 
 covered with an almost impervious forest. Once 
 more lifted upon their shoulders, I was borne 
 through narrow avenues of the wood a distance 
 
HELEN HALSEV. 83 
 
 of some three hundred yards or more. Our course 
 seemed to be a winding one. We at length 
 reached a very strong log-house, consisting of a 
 single apartment, probably twelve feet square. 
 The logs were hewn and fitted closely. They 
 were of the heaviest kind. There was no win 
 dow, and but a single, and that a very low door, 
 into which I was thrust headlong. Here I was 
 left the door fastened behind me, in a darkness 
 that was rather increased than relieved, by an oc 
 casional gleam of sunshine that stole here and 
 there through chink or crevice to brood over my 
 condition, and reconcile myself to the future pros 
 pect with what philosophy I could command. 
 That prospect was no ways encouraging, and my 
 philosophy was not of the most composing or 
 consoling nature. I confess it, boy-like, I fell into 
 very ridiculous and childish furies, the recollection 
 of which, to this day, brings the blush into my 
 face. I raved, and swore, and flung myself about 
 upon the damp earth until I was tired. A few 
 hours brought me to my senses. Darkness and 
 silence are great subduers of passion great pro 
 moters of reflection. Why will not our legisla 
 tors discover this, and substitute imprisonment 
 for life in place of that code, equally barbarous 
 and ineffective, which violently tears away the 
 sacred life principle, from the temple, made after 
 the image of God, in which he has enshrined it ? 
 In the darkness of the scene a gloom, thick and 
 seemingly solid and tangible which was spread 
 
84 HELEN I1AL8EY. 
 
 around me, -and that awful stillness which seem* 
 ed to breathe in slumbers of the grave I began to 
 recover my half-banished senses. I began to 
 consider my situation. What was that ? What 
 was I to do"? What was my hope ? It was now 
 clear to me that, in spite of the kindness of Bush 
 Halsey s nature, he was powerless to save me. 
 He himself lived but upon terms with his outlawed 
 brother, who, I was now persuaded, was as reck 
 less in his ferocity as he was unscrupulous in all 
 moral performances. That Bush Halsey would 
 try, as he had already tried, to save me, I had no 
 question, even though he might have entertained 
 some of the loathsome suspicions which his bro 
 ther had tried to thrust into his mind. But I had 
 marked too well the natural and enforced ex 
 pression of defiance which the outlaw had shown 
 towards himself, not to feel very sure that there 
 was no hope from his interposition. And, as for 
 the sweet, suffering Helen 1 She would pray, I 
 knew she would be sleepless in the toil in my 
 behalf ; but what would it avail ? I had already 
 seen, in her frequent deportment, how much fear 
 she entertained of her brutal uncle, and though 
 the might acquire greater courage in approaching 
 him than usual, having my danger in view, yet, I 
 could not deceive myself into the notion that much 
 good would result from any of her entreaties. 
 Well, the substance of my reflections led me 
 only to this. I was in the meshes in a den of 
 thieves and murderers, doomed to death, and 
 
I11SLEN IIALSEY. 85 
 
 hoping nothing either from their mercy, or 
 their dread of legal vengeance. But there was 
 one alternative, one outlet allotted me of es 
 cape to wed with Helen Halsey ! Well, could 
 I stickle to avail myself of this alternative? 
 Nay, was not this my own desire but five 
 hours before? Would I not have esteemed such 
 a prize, a treasure beyond all price, but a little 
 while ago the sole, great object of my desire ? 
 Strange, indeed- what perverse mortals we are. 
 My pride revolted at the idea of being forced in 
 to the possession of that which I desired beyond 
 all other objects. I now persuaded myself that 
 uncle and father; vr ere both in a scheme to force 
 me into these nuptialsthat it was a cunning de 
 vice to restore to society some of her outcasts 
 one of those petty, dirty little tricks of a base and 
 cunning nature, of which I was to be the victim. 
 I need not say with what loathing I revolted at 
 this suggestion how indignant it made me to 
 think, that they could fancy me so dastardly, 
 or so blind and I resolved rather to meet my 
 fate, than dishonor my father s family, by con 
 necting myself with such a brood. Let me do 
 myself justice, however. I never for a moment 
 suspected Helen of any consciousness of this de 
 sign. No I felt that she was pure and true. I 
 did not think it My heart prevented my thoughts 
 in her case, and, every feeling within me rose in 
 arms against the slightest suggestion of my rea 
 son to this effect. Her heart had been pressed 
 
80 HEI.E\ HAL8EY. 
 
 against my own her face, covered with mingling 
 tears and blushes, |iad been buried in my bosom, 
 and that sacred pressure had been enough, not 
 only to endear her to me forever, but to make me 
 confident in her truth and loyalty. Ah! thai 
 first press of heart to heart, when both hearts are 
 young and ardent. What a volume does it 
 teach ! What a life does it embody ! how full 
 of assurances and inquiries, and promises and 
 hopes, sweet regrets, and pleasures, so acute, 
 as almost to be akin to pain ! That first kiss of 
 love that first dear, stolen embrace, the keen 
 est joy of life, to which none after bears likeness, 
 in comparison with which all other joys are 
 dwarfed ! Still, quivering in my whole soul with 
 the rapture of this embrace, I could not think of 
 the dear girl, with whom I shared it, but as a 
 victim like myself. Yet, so thinking, I would not 
 stomach the necessity of being forrod to wed 
 her, by the imperious will of a person I despised. 
 The more I brooded on this threatened necessity, 
 the more I revolted from it, and resolved against 
 it. No ! I exclaimed bitterly, in all the heroics 
 of boyhood, sooner let me perish T 
 
 Having reached this conclusion, I found com* 
 posure. I stretched myself at length upon the 
 ground, which I had now leisure to see was 
 strewed pretty thickly with dried leaves, and was 
 surprised by sleep ; and, dreaming of a fierce 
 and deadly struggle with the outlaw, Bud Hal- 
 sey, I was awakened, somewhere about midnight, 
 
HEI.K.N HALHKY. 87 
 
 by a rough hand laid upon my shoulder, a rough 
 voice, which I too well remembered, in my ears 
 and, flashing in my eyes, a huge torch, by the 
 blaze of which I was half stupified and blinded. 
 The intruder was Bud Halsey. He stuck the 
 torch in a crevice of the wall, and calmly seating 
 himself before me, regarded me with a glance of 
 the keenest inquiry. I need not say that I re- 
 turned it with one of scorn and defiance, and we 
 looked upon one another in this manner, in a 
 silence which lasted for several minutes. At 
 length, ho sa : d: 
 
 " You do not seem to understand your true 
 condition, young man. Did you suppose that I 
 was trifling with you when I sent you here ?" 
 
 " If you were," I answered, " it is a sort of 
 trifling which I should be very loth io forgive, 
 should the moment ever arrive when resentment 
 would be to any purpose. I cannot suppose you 
 were trifling." 
 
 " You are a lad of more sense than I had given 
 you credit for. The rest ought to be easy. You 
 see your condition. You have heard your fate. 
 You have had time for reflection. Are you pre 
 pared ? Will you choose ? Will you hang, or 
 marry the foolish girl you have dishonored ?" 
 
 ** You dishonor her by your foul breath, and 
 foul imagination. She is pure as heaven." 
 
 ** Pskaw 1 young man ! Do you suppose me 
 as unread as yourself in the history of human 
 nature ? Do I not know the weakness of woman s 
 
8ft Iir.l.l .N IIAL8CY. 
 
 nature, and the recklessness of man s nature, 
 when occasion serves and opportunity invites ? 
 But this as it may. I give you an alternative. 
 If you have not wronged Helen Halscy, and you 
 lovo her, a* you profons, so much tho ICHH nhould 
 be your reluctance to marry her. If you did not 
 design to marry her before, as I suppose from 
 your unwillingness now, there is every reason 
 for suspecting you as I do, and taking for granted 
 all the worst that one evil nature can imagine of 
 another. On thin subject we need waste no 
 wovds. The simple question is before you. Will 
 you marry her ?" 
 
 " Where is her father ? I would see and speak 
 with him." 
 
 You cannot." 
 
 41 Why not ? Ho will not refuse mo," 
 
 " But I will ! Look you, young man, Bush 
 Halscy is, in some respects, as great a simpleton 
 as yourself. If ho had a voice in the matter, he 
 would send you homo to your mother, perhaps 
 fill your pockots with ginger-bread, pat you on 
 tho htwd, bid you go on your way rejoicing, and 
 shed a flood of benevolent tears at your departure. 
 But I am the master here ! I am the outlaw ! I 
 do and counsel the robberies, and, if you please, 
 I command and execute the murders. You know 
 enough to inako tho task of confession on my 
 part a very oasy one. You know too much ! 
 And this is the true reason of your predicament. 
 You came here of your own free will, knowing 
 
HELEN HAI.HEV. 89 
 
 among whom you came, and practising deception 
 and falsehood to wind yourself in among our 
 secrets. You are a spy, and our situation is such 
 as to render us rather unscrupulous with that 
 sort of persons. But I am willing to please my 
 brother, and to gratify my niece. They are 
 pleased with you, and I have not scrupled to say, 
 and I repeat, notwithstanding your denials, that I 
 think it necessary that you should marry her. It 
 is for this reason that I propose to you this alter 
 native, grant you this time for reflection, and 
 seek you out at midnight to enlighten you more 
 fully on the necessity of the thing. Had it not 
 been for this, I should have had you knocked on 
 the head without a word of parley ; and, sure that 
 we should have no further trouble at your hands, 
 should be now comfortably asleep, instead of 
 sitting here, at midnight, endeavoring to make 
 you sensible of your danger. There now you 
 have the whole, and what is your answer ?" 
 
 The whole manner of the outlaw was so con- 
 
 ^ tcmptuous, his tones so cold and sneering, his 
 
 suggestions so unfeeling, and everything about 
 
 him so offensive to my feelings, that I forgot my 
 
 own danger, and replied promptly : 
 
 " Nothing ! I have no answer." * 
 
 " Nothing ! You have no answer ?" 
 
 44 None for you" 
 
 ** Very good ! I leave you ! You may look 
 for me at sunrise, when you may probably be 
 better able to find an answer. Good night." 
 
00 HELEN HAL0EY. 
 
 Coolly detaching the torch from the wall, he 
 waved it around so as to take in at a glance the 
 entire apartment, and without further word, left 
 the dungeon. The door was carefully fastened 
 behind him, and the sound of voices without, led 
 me to the conclusion that he did not omit the pre 
 caution of placing a guard upon the premises. In 
 a few moments more I was left in darkness, and 
 to rny own rofluntionH. Thcno worn not HO gloomy, 
 They wor(f of a stern and angry sort. I hud been 
 irritated, not subdued, and, to confess a truth, I 
 could not bring myself to believe that the case 
 was so desperate as the outlaw made it appear. 
 I could not think that Bush Iltilncy wa so pow- 
 t rlcNN, or that 1 nhould bo abandoned to such a 
 cruel futo. It was all a contrivance to terrify 
 me into certain measures, and it was only a test 
 of manliness which was to hold out longest. I 
 was resolved not to show the white feather, and, 
 after a while, fell asleep, as if nothing threatened 
 in the morning. 
 
HELEN HAL9EY. 01 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 ** No ! No !" I exclaimed at waking, which I 
 did early, " my neck was never made for a hal 
 ter." I tried to raise my hands to it as it to as 
 sure myself that there was not one already around 
 it, but the ropes with which I had been bound, 
 and which, for the moment, I had forgotten, 
 checked somewhat the exulting nature of my 
 thoughts, as they checked the movements of my 
 arms. I had been dreaming of the events which 
 had taken place, and my exclamation was pro 
 bably due to the character of my dreaming 
 thoughts. I now repeated it, as if to assure my 
 self, but it called up as unpleasant and unnatural 
 on echo, as ever was heard in Killarney. The 
 voice of Bud Halsey, speaking outside, replied : 
 
 44 That s a matter about which no man is sure 
 for thirty minutes. In fifteen, a cord may be ad- 
 justed, and where the woods are convenient, the 
 affair may be all over in twenty. In your case, 
 it still depends upon yourself whether you escape 
 the present danger. You have still a few minutes 
 to sunrise ! w 
 
 The suddenness of the response, its character, 
 and the character of the man by whom it was 
 spoken, all combined to send a chill through my 
 body, which it had not felt before. The next 
 
92, HELEN UAL0EY* 
 
 moment the door opened, and he appeared before 
 me. You have already had a description of the 
 man, but now there was a sly grin upon his fea 
 tures which they did not usually wear, and which 
 seemed to betray a sort of satisfaction which he 
 yet labored to discourage and keep down. Tho 
 effort of a man passionate by nature, to subdue 
 the show of impulses which are yet grateful, will 
 usually result in some such conflict upon the fea 
 tures, than which, perhaps, there is nothing more 
 unpleasant to behold. I had much rather seen 
 him furious. * 
 
 "Well, young man/* he said, entering, "the 
 time is at hand for your final answer. You have 
 till sunrise. It will not be ten minutes before you 
 see his red streaks on the top of that pine. Bring 
 him out, men, that he may see more easily/* 
 
 His orders were obeyed, and I found myself, 
 still bound hand and foot, laid down before the 
 door of the dungeon which I had just occupied. 
 I now felt the cold, which I had not experienced 
 to any very unpleasant degree during the night. 
 But now I was chilled and uncomfortable, and 
 what with the rigid position in which my limbs 
 were fixed, and the effect of the keen morning 
 breeze upon me, coming out suddenly as I did 
 from one of the closest log houses, my teeth al 
 most chattered. I fancied that the outlaw per 
 ceived my discomfort, and that he probably as 
 cribed it to another cause, for his features put on 
 that same expression of a satisfaction* which he 
 
IIKLEN i; M.^F.Y. 03 
 
 yet labored to conceal. It was with some effort 
 of will, that I succeeded in keeping down my 
 tremors. There were some four persons, stout 
 ruffians, loitering about. One was busy in build 
 ing a fire, two others stood apart at some little 
 distance, conversing in low tones together and 
 looking occasionally at me, while, directly at my 
 side, sat a fourth, coolly disentangling a plough- 
 line, the probable uses of which I did not venture 
 to conjecture. But it did not help much to lessen 
 my shivering tendency, 
 
 " Step back a moment, Warner," said the out 
 law to this assistant. " The lad has little time 
 for talk." 
 
 The fellow -did as he was bidden. He looked 
 upon me as he moved away, and I fancied that I 
 knew his features. I had seen him gazing at me 
 once before, while I walked -with Helen, and it 
 then seemed to me that I had seen him elsewhere. 
 I was now sure of it, but where ? At all events, 
 if he ever knew me before, there was every rea 
 son to apprehend that he also would remember 
 me. But I had not time to think of him. When 
 he had withdrawn, Bud Halsey began, as he al 
 ways did, with sufficient abruptness. 
 
 " Well, young man 1 the time is at hand for 
 your final answer. You may not know me you 
 may think me jesting, anything, but serious 
 but look you, tin I live, and as the sun shines, 
 by Heaven, or by Hell, there is but one escape 
 lor you from death, and that is by marriage with 
 my niece. Nothing else can save you ; and, but 
 
04 HELEN I1A1.HKY. 
 
 for what I suppose to be her situation, her feel 
 ings, and those of Bush Halsey, who has very 
 much the feelings of a girl but for them, even 
 this choice should not be allowed you. Nay, to 
 show you how large is the concession which I 
 make, I tell you that I now know you to be the 
 son of one of my deadliest enemies, one of those 
 men who have made me what I am, and to whom 
 I owe nothing but undying hate. Your father, in 
 his official capacity, as Judge of the Supreme 
 Court of Alabama, robbed me, by an unrighteous 
 decision, of lands and fortune. Enough, Master 
 Henry Meadows, otherwise Colman, you see 
 where you are, what is known of you, and expect 
 ed, and what you have to expect. You see the 
 men are in waiting, the cord is ready, and you 
 are already under the tree from which you may 
 be suspended. It has borne as stout a man be 
 fore." 
 
 He turned from me as he spoke, and joined the 
 two men who were conversing at a little distance, 
 said a few words to them, pointed towards me, 
 then disappeared in the wood. But a few mo 
 ments had elapsed, when he again came in sight, 
 and approached me. 
 M Your answer, Henry Meadows T 
 The smile had disappeared from his features. 
 The face was savage and stern in the extreme. 
 There was nothing there of encouragement, and 
 during his absence my own reflections were of a 
 confused and conflicting character. I need not 
 say that I could not convince myself of the earn- 
 
HELEN 11ALSEY. 95 
 
 cstness and sincerity of the man I could not per 
 suade myself, that such a destiny was really con 
 templated for me. My pride determined my 
 course. Was I to be made a laughing-stock, a 
 butt pointed at as one scared into marriage 
 led to the altar, through dread of the halter ! 
 even the jingle of the words suggested itself to 
 me at the moment, and the thought that such a 
 jingle would commend the anecdote, in future 
 days at my expense, contributed to strengthen 
 me in my resolution of defiance. My answer 
 was ready. 
 
 " I defy you, Sir. Do with me as you please, 
 But you shall not force me to your purpose." 
 
 He hesitated gazed at me for a moment, as I 
 fancied, with an expression of chagrin, and then 
 replied : 
 
 "Very well, young man, as you please! I 
 have done all that I could more than I ever ex 
 pected to do to save any one caught in. your situ 
 ation. Your blood upon be your own head. Ho ! 
 fellows !" 
 
 He waved his hand and the subordinates drew 
 nigh. 
 
 "Are you ready? Secure your man !" 
 
 In the twinkling of an eye, I was caught up 
 and placed upon my feet, while the fellow named 
 Warner, adjusted the defiling cord about my 
 neck, and, with the end in his hand, proceeded to 
 climb the tree under which I stood. I writhed 
 in my bonds I could not struggle, for hand and 
 feet were equally secured. But my writhing 
 
90 HELEN UAL8EY* 
 
 was in vain. Indeed, so well fastened had I been* 
 that, but for the support of one of the outlaws, I 
 could not have kept my feet. The moment 
 was one of unmixed horror. I began to fear 
 that the farce was to become a tragedy. I look 
 ed searchingly into the face of tho outlaw, but it 
 expressed nothing but the most dogged determi 
 nation. Tho sun, at the same instant, threw a 
 golden crown upon the brow of a towering pine, 
 some thirty yards in advance of the spot where I 
 stood. I shivered ! Where was Bush Halsey ? 
 Where Helen? My head seemed to swim. I 
 was growing blind. Father, mother! could this 
 all be true 1 was I thus doomed ! Torn from you, 
 to see you never more ! I felt that my senses 
 were insecure that I could no longer depend 
 upon them, but I could hear hear every sylla 
 ble, every breathing. That one faculty seemed 
 to grow doubly acute at the expense of all the 
 rest. There was a whispering among the ac 
 cessories. Then came the deep but low words 
 of the principal. 
 
 " Run him up ! There s no use to wait. He s 
 pluck to the last. He ll die game !" 
 
 I felt the motion my feet were gone from 
 under me. I strove to cry aloud, but the words 
 subsided into a husky murmur, and I resigned 
 myself how with what grace with what hope 
 with what thoughts, if any, to the last terrible 
 change ! when, sudden, I heard a cry a pierc 
 ing shriek I knew the tones of that voice I 
 
HELEN HAL3EY. 07 
 
 knew the nature of that cry ! The voice was 
 Helen s, the cry oh ! God ! it was the lost 
 woman s appeal for mercy, mercy, mercy ! I 
 too strove to echo the cry, but I was choking. 
 I could hear the hollow gurgling of the breath in 
 my own throat I could feel it ! That was all 1 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 I WAS conscious of a sudden but not unpleasant 
 concussion. I awakened, opened my eyes, and 
 found myself upon the ground, with Helen cling 
 ing to me, and plucking at the cord about my 
 neck, while the outlaw was contending almost 
 violently with her father. I understood the affair 
 in a few moments. Bush Halsey still held in his 
 grasp the knife with which he had smote the 
 cord by which I was .suspended. I had been 
 rescued at the last moment rescued, it was very 
 evident from what I then saw, without any par 
 ticipation in the act by the outlaw. He still ap 
 peared resolute upon my death, and, by the 
 numerous gathering of ruffians by whom he was 
 surrounded, and who seemed only to await his 
 final orders, I felt very certain that the dreadful 
 scene must be renewed. I spare the arguments 
 and expostulations of Bush Halsey. I say no 
 thing of the tears and entreaties of Helen. 
 5 
 
OS HELEN IIAUJEY. 
 
 44 Let him submit let him obey ! let him act 
 as a man of honor !" was the final answer of the 
 outlaw. 
 
 44 He will he will submit !* was the cry of 
 Helen poor girl not knowing what was the 
 requisition. 
 
 " Give him time treat him as a man of honor T 
 was the answer of her father. 
 
 The tears of Helen her beauty the passion 
 ate and unmeasured interest which she expressed 
 in my fate no longer restrained by the dread 
 of her uncle, the awe of her father, or the natural 
 apprehension and modesty of her sex did more 
 to reconcile me to compliance than did all the 
 violence of the outlaw ! 
 
 44 Hear me," I exclaimed, interrupting^ the dis 
 pute ; : " hear me, sir," addressing Bud Halsey, 
 had you been more reasonable, and less 
 violent at first, all would have been easy. I am 
 willing to marry Helen nay, should have sought 
 her, in due time, at the hands of her father. It 
 was in pursuit of her that I sought out your re 
 treat in the swamp, and it was in order to obtain 
 more ready admission that I framed the story of 
 a crime which I had never committed. My 
 hands are innocent of blood, and I am no spy 
 upon you. Under the ardent passion which 
 brought me here, I should have regarded the 
 Tiand of Helen as the dearest blessing which 
 could be bestowed upon me, and 1 am only sorry 
 that your violence, by wounding my pride, should 
 
I1CLEN IIALSEY. 09 
 
 have prompted me, even for a moment, to reject 
 such a boon. I do not ask for life I make no 
 such prayer to you I can die, I trust, like a 
 man but I am willing to comply with your c. - 
 ditionsP O..C.X.. 
 
 ** Loose him P was all that Bud Halsey vouch 
 safed to say, as he turned off. 
 
 "Oh! my Henry P was the exclamation of 
 poor Helen, as she swooned away upon my 
 bosom. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 BUT the swoon of joy occasions no apprehen 
 sions. My bonds were severed, and Helen re 
 covered, so that we were enabled to return to 
 gether to the cottage of her father. He was 
 kind to me, but grave. It is not improbable that 
 Bud Halsey had succeeded in filling him with 
 some of the base suspicions which were strong 
 in his own bosom. Helen was happy, with a 
 sort of uneasy happiness. Whether she seemed 
 to doubt the reality of the event, or that she felt 
 that my consent to the marriage with her had 
 been somewhat extorted, in spite of my avowals, 
 I cannot say; but, though smiling and declaring 
 herself blest, there was a restless, feverish excitu- 
 
100 IIELEN 1IALSKY. 
 
 bility in her action and movements which did not 
 usually mark them. For my own part, I was 
 sore equally in mind and body. The latter had 
 not passed through the humiliating scenes just 
 described without undergoing some hurts ami 
 bruises. But4hese were as nothing to the men 
 tal annoyances which the same events had pro 
 duced. I had been trampled upon dishonored 
 my person degraded by the hands of ruffians, 
 and by fhe shameful and defiling rope. I 
 felt mean and humbled, and, it may be, that, 
 showing something of this feeling, in my inter 
 course with Helen, I had caused in her that ap 
 pearance of inquietude which marred, in some de 
 gree, the more grateful appearance of her happi 
 ness. But I must not linger on this matter. Bud 
 Halsey was a man to move with all imaginable 
 promptness, and that very night he made his ap 
 pearance at the cottage, accompanied by a young 
 man, decently clad in black, with something of 
 the outward appearance of a Divine* Such he 
 was, if we may be permitted to make certain al 
 lowances, of which more hereafter. He was in 
 troduced to mo as the Rev. Mr. Mowbray a 
 gentleman of the Episcopal persuasion. He was 
 a fine looking young man of ilorid complexion, a 
 bright blue eye with a restless roving twinkle, 
 which betrayed an unsettled and capricious dis 
 position. His temperament and the general ex 
 pression of his features, showed the presence of 
 strung, unregulated passions. Surprised at seeing 
 
HELEN HAL8EY. 101 
 
 him where he was, and procured with so much 
 readiness, I was still more surprised to learn that 
 he was a regular resident of the swamp one of 
 the community sharing in its spoils, and, possi 
 bly, though of this I could say nothing, partaking 
 in all its miserable practices. The singular moral 
 anomaly of the criminal, influenced by superstition, 
 and insisting upon having a sort of religion of his 
 own, even while engaged in the grossest violation 
 of all moral and divine laws, is too well known 
 and of too frequent occurrence, to render neces 
 sary hero ony elaborate metaphysics. Perhaps, 
 the wonder is, that such contradiction should bo 
 found among a Protestant people. In such coun 
 tries as Italy and Spain, the anomaly, if still diffi 
 cult of explanation, is yet, because of our familiar 
 ity with its occurrence, of less startling effect and 
 character. There, it has been usual to refer it 
 to the mixed influences of a bad political govern 
 ment, and the habitual training of a priesthood, 
 forever indefatigable in the maintenance of its 
 powers. The crime is partly the result of neces 
 sity and circumstances, the superstition of mixed 
 ignorance and training. The same anomaly in 
 America, and with the descendants of the ancient 
 Puritans, must find some other explanation. Here, 
 it was, undeniably; and I soon found that the 
 Reverend Mr. Mowbray, was not only useful (?) 
 where he was, but that there were frequent c 3ca- 
 sions for his services. The sick had his prayers, 
 and the burial at which he did not officiate was a 
 
10$ HWUBN HALSEY. 
 
 subject of no little dissatisfaction among the living 
 friends of the deceased. On the Sabbath, when 
 the business of the community was not urgent, 
 his preaching was well attended. Subsequently, 
 1 was given to understand, that, it was owing to 
 the expression of some discontent on the part of 
 one of the assistants, that I was not to be allowed 
 the ghostly help of this gentleman, on the morn 
 ing of my execution, that led to the delay in car- 
 rying into effect the sentence of the Outlaw Chief, 
 and so, accordingly, to my rescue. Complying 
 with the suggestion of the subordinate, Bud Hal* 
 sey sent for his chaplain, and thus my danger be 
 came noised abroad, so as to reach the ears of 
 Helen and her father, in season to bring them to 
 my rescue. You may take for granted, that, from 
 that moment, I readily recognised the importance 
 of a regular chaplain to a band of robbers. My 
 bride made her appearance in all her beauty, and 
 with all the usual becoming blushes. Beautiful 
 she was, and the simplicity of her costume, amply 
 set off and distinguished the peculiarity of her 
 charms. I forgot, as I surveyed her, the painful 
 circumstances which had conducted me to this 
 event. I thought of nothing but the passion with 
 which she now filled me how lovely she was in 
 my eyes how precious to my heart. I took her 
 hand with rapture, and, for a moment, had no 
 feeling but one of unalloyed happiness. But, even 
 as the service proceeded, while my lips uttered 
 the sacred responses, a dark cloud passed over 
 my imagination. My eyes ceased to behold the 
 
HELEN HAI.SEY. 103 
 
 actual, surrounding objects, I was transported to 
 another region. I beheld another and very dif 
 ferent sight. The good old, well ordered, well 
 adorned Hall at Lcaside, with all its images of 
 solemnity mixed with comfort, rose up before my 
 glance. My father and my mother the one 
 sternly contemplative the other sad, but smiling, 
 as if in spite of the numerous apprehensions that 
 struggled about her maternal heart. Ah ! could 
 they conjecture where I stood and how engaged 
 in what ceremony so awful, so irrevocable, 
 so important to their son, so interesting to them 
 selves in which they were not permitted to par 
 take of which they were not permitted to know! 
 I felt a growing weakness in my eyes, mastered 
 my resolution, spoke audibly the last responses, 
 and clasped my brido to my bosom. With tho 
 kiss which I then pressed upon her lips, came a 
 ciowd of confused thoughts and inquiries. I was 
 a husband at eighteen. An outlaw s daughter 
 was my bride. Had I left tne home of my father 
 for this ? What had I become ? What was I to 
 become ? What was to be the fruit of this affair? 
 What fate was before me ? Was I, too, to become 
 an outlaw ? Was I forever cut off from society 
 and my father s home ? I could not answer these 
 inquiries, and which was worse I could not dis 
 miss them. Was I happy ? That was another 
 question, the answer to which must be confided 
 to the future ! 
 
104 RCLEN HALBEY. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Bur youth the youth which has been accus 
 tomed to indulgence lives so much in the grati 
 fication of its passions and desires, that reflection, 
 \vhich is the result of training and habit, does not 
 often disturb the enjoyment of the present mo 
 ment. Asi for happiness, this is, at no period, a 
 proper question. We have very little, in this 
 life, to do with happiness. We have only to live 
 as long as -we can, endure as sturdily as we can, 
 and do our duty with our best strength and man 
 hood. A lad of eighteen, brought up as I had 
 been, to be very much his own master, is chiefly 
 considerate of the day, and of what it shall bring 
 forth. With a very different signification and com 
 mentary, tho scripture apothegm is his sum*- 
 cient for the day is the evil thereof and the good 
 also. In boy-language, I was happy, in spite of 
 the momentary misgivings that disturbed me at 
 the altar. I was a husband. I had taken the 
 highest duties of manhood upon me, arid this fact 
 was an appeal to my vanity, which thus, in turn, 
 became a minister to my other impulses. My 
 wife was beautiful and accomplished, intelligent 
 and gentle tender, and full of love for me giv 
 ing me hourly proofs, not only that she regarded 
 her happiness as complete, but that she was wo- 
 manlv solicitous , of mine. Had all the circum- 
 
HELEN HAL8EY. 105 
 
 stances of my marriage suited had it taken 
 place with the family sanction, and had her con 
 nections been such as I could have wished them, 
 I could have found no hotter wife. She, by her 
 self, was all that I could have desired ; and, hurt 
 as I had been, in my pride, stung, mortified and 
 harrasscd, by the events which preceded my 
 nuptials, my honey-moon was yet without a 
 cloud. Bud Halsey kept out of sight, and, in our 
 little islet and cottage, we revelled in all the in 
 toxicating delight of a first passion gratified. We 
 lay in the sun like two children, thoughtless of 
 the coming on of night, thoughtless of all things 
 but the dear shady solitude which love had peo 
 pled with its own ministering forms, all wooing 
 and beautiful, all sweet and musical, all sympa 
 thetic and devoted to the tender mood which 
 prevailed equally over the souls of both. Thus 
 we walked and rode rambled through silent 
 groves, and, sitting on the trunks of fallen trees, 
 under the shade of their mightier descendants, 
 wove into blossoms, the pretty, petty fancies of 
 a youth, that might well at that period have 
 furnished a similitude for the first garden experi 
 ence of our luckless ancestors. That honey 
 moon was certainly an Eden, while it lasted, to 
 us both. But it was not to last. Helen, how 
 ever, was not the one in our case to pluck the 
 forbidden fruit. The error was mine. I have 
 already said, or shown, that I was of an impetuous, 
 impatient character, not disposed to forego my ob 
 ject, yet soon gratified, and restless after novelty 
 5* 
 
106 HELEN HAL8EY. 
 
 With such a person, the thing once attained is 
 apt to lose its attractions, and it is sufficient to 
 brush away the gold and beauty from the more 
 delicate forms of human enjoyment, that we 
 grasp them rudely to our embrace. The first 
 enthusiastic burst of passion over, reflection fol 
 lowed, and then recurred to me, in all their force, 
 those vexing and unanswerable questions which 
 had disturbed mo at the altar. What had I be- 
 come ? An outlaw ? No ! But next kin to one ! 
 Certainly, should the government of the United 
 States, or of Mississippi, ever find it necessary to 
 send a sufficient force into our swamp retreat, 
 for the purpose of rooting out its profligate pos 
 sessors, I must share their obloquy and punish 
 ment ; und, even if this fute were not to be ap 
 prehended, was the doom less humiliating and 
 painful to which I was now apparently fnted, It 
 wan forbidden mo to Icuvn thu wwump ! 1 had 
 not even the rogue s privilege, but, as 1 refused 
 to participate in the deeds of the outlaws, I was 
 regarded as one not only not to be trusted, but 
 one to hs watched. The melancholy prospect 
 was before me of wasting my days in a region in 
 which 1 WUB a prisoner denied even the indul 
 gences of the reprobates around me. and with no 
 hope of a change for the better, unless by qualify* 
 ing myself for the privileges of the ruffian, in the 
 commission of his crimes. There was no outlet 
 to society or ambition. I could neither hope for 
 the external resources, nor for the distinctions of 
 the world. My talents were denied a field of ao 
 
HELEN HALSEY. 107 
 
 tion. I was to rust disused, a sword in the scab 
 bard, a shield against the wall, the blood-steed 
 chafing in the stable, the mountain bird beating 
 his wings against the bars of his cage. These 
 reflections naturally followed, when the delights 
 of my new condition had become familiar. Even 
 love is a food that can satis f) few men. It is 
 the blanc-mange, the syllabubs, the comfits, in the 
 great feast of life. But we must beware how we 
 would make a meal of it. It is to be taken spar 
 ingly after other meats, and by way of giving 
 them a relish. The only food which never cloys 
 the human spirit, is the prosecution of our daily 
 tasks, in obedience to the natural tendencies of 
 our intellect, and our training. These tasks per 
 formed, love consoles us in the shade, binds up 
 our wounds, soothes us in our prostration and de 
 feat, and cheers us with song and sentiment. But 
 as we neither want song nor consolation always, 
 so we may suffer love to wait for us in the shade, 
 while we follow our employments in the sun. 
 By attending to this wholesome rule, we shall 
 discover, that, while the burden of labor dimin 
 ishes, love undergoes increase ; and, from a sickly, 
 and somewhat aflected damsel, becomes a bright- 
 eyed, cheerful matron, who rears our children 
 with fruitful breakfast, and sees that dinner is 
 ready for us, at the proper hour, when we return 
 from work. But I did not philosophize after this 
 fashion, until long afterwards. In that heyday 
 of my hot youth, and while that first would it 
 were the last ! struggle was going on, I sirop ? v 
 
108 HELLN HA1.HBY. 
 
 felt and deplored the ennui, without undertaking 
 to ascertain what were its true sources. Had 
 my reflective powers been equal to this, I should 
 probably have been the better for it. But, as it 
 was, seemingly remediless as the condition of 
 things appeared, I was miserable, without the 
 hope of redress. The ardency of my love lessen 
 ed, and, instead of now going forth ever with 
 Helen, I s,tolo forth more frequently alone. I 
 wandered o(F into the deepest woods, and weari 
 ed ut ovory utep, with inyHuli and everything 
 around me, I still felt how much more wearisome 
 it was to return. Still, I strove to hide from my 
 wife, tho discontent of which I was now myself 
 fully conscious, I was generous enough, and 
 nmn enough, to endeavor to conceal from her tho 
 signs of that inquietude, which 1 too well knew 
 she would ascribe to my lessening attachment. 
 In her presence I strove to be cheerful, to smile, 
 to meet her eye with the same expression of love 
 in mine, which it had been so easy a task with 
 mo to exhibit until now, Nor WHH it ivlwayM dif 
 ficult to simulate this appearance, She was so real 
 ly beautiful, with eyes of such dewy brightness, so 
 gentle, so yielding and dependant, that, really, I 
 could not but curse the capricious nature which 
 hud grown diHsatiHficd, so soon, with a creature 
 BO truly excellent and charming, Still, sho hung 
 upon my arm, yielded herself upon my bosom, 
 sung to me in deep embowering woods, and by 
 the petty chafing streams that ran through our 
 
HELEN 1IALSEY. 109 
 
 swamp fastnesses, and still I thought at moments, 
 that I ought to be, and was, satisfied and happy. 
 But these gleams were only transient. Love, 
 alone, has no means of continuing its excitements, 
 after conquest. With this event life begins, with 
 all its solemn duties. Unless these duties pro 
 voke the fitting performances unless the man 
 then brings into exercise all the energies of his 
 intellectual nature, and addresses them to the 
 business which seems to be most particularly 
 called for by the tendency of his morale he can 
 not well be said to live, and none of his enjoy 
 ments will be lasting. This must be the fate of 
 all persons brought up in idleness. Life, with 
 such, must be a sort of mill-service, a perpetual 
 rounding of the circle in a beaten track, which, 
 as it demands no mental exercise, furnishes no 
 mental supply, keeps up no mental life, and leaves 
 the intellectual nature as thoroughly blind as 
 horses are said to become, habituated to the same 
 motive service which has afforded us the com 
 parison above. But a truce to these reflections, 
 which I did not then make. My wife began to 
 discern the change in me. What change is there, 
 however slight, in the man she loves, which the 
 woman will not discern ? I soon saw that she 
 felt the change. Perhaps, it was no small proof 
 of my own continued attachment, that I could so 
 soon discern that she had made the discovery. 
 Of course I did my best to lessen this impression. 
 I renewed my efforts to appear happy we re- 
 
110 HELEN BALSET 
 
 sumed our walk s together followed the same 
 streams, sat beneath the same shade, but we 
 both felt that it was now a task to pursue the 
 same life, which was once a pleasure only. The 
 green and the freshness seemed to me to have 
 gone from life the glory and the gladness we 
 felt the misery which the departure had occasion 
 ed, but knew not, in our ignorance of heart and 
 life, where to look for the remedy. It was soon 
 very evident to me, that her father beheld the 
 change. He looked more gravely when we met, 
 more sadly but without severity. On the 
 contrary, his endeavors to console and to con 
 ciliate me were redoubled ; and when in his so 
 ciety, I generally found myself more cheerful, and 
 if not more reconciled to my imprisonment, at 
 least more easily inclined, for the moment, to dis 
 miss it from my thoughts. That he ascribed my 
 demeanor to any change in my regards for his 
 daughter, I did not imagine. He knew me better 
 than I did myself. My own conscience reproach 
 ed me with such a change. He, more wisely, 
 ascribed it all to the natural impatience of my 
 mind, under the novel restraints to which it was 
 subjected restraints, which not only deprived 
 me all opportunity for its exercise, but denied me 
 to see those friends and connections, in whom I 
 was naturally so deeply interested. As for poor 
 Helen, she was still ?o loving, so considerate, so 
 desirous to win me to pleasure, to see me happy 
 and failing, so sad. that, when not thinking 
 
HELEN HAL8EY. Ill 
 
 absolutely and only of myself, my heart smote 
 me for its coldness to her. Coldness shall I call 
 it? No! it was not coldness. I had not then 
 any idea that any woman could be half so dear 
 to me as she was, even in those moments when 
 I felt least satisfied. But she was not to know 
 this. My discontent increased, and at length 
 settled down into positive clouds and gloom. I 
 no longer made any effort to conceal it, and it 
 was some consolation to me that my wife, with a 
 prudence which is seldom exercised by wives, 
 never once called upon mo to account for it. 
 She was content to do her best to cheer me, to 
 prove that her love for mo had not lessened, and 
 she left to the delicate unpremeditated attentions 
 of a fond heart, and tender solicitude, to heal 
 those hurts, which any attempt to probe might 
 only have rendered worse. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 MEANWHILE, I had become somewhat intimate 
 with Mr. Mowbray, the reverend gentleman by 
 whom I had been married. I had met him in 
 some of my rambles, and as he was a person of 
 invincible self-esteem, he had contrived to keep 
 with me, in spite of the evident coolness which I 
 
HELEN HALBEY. 
 
 manifested towards him. His adroitness finally 
 broke down my barriers of reserve, and I listened 
 to him, after awhile, with tolerable patience, the 
 unfavorable impressions of my mind gradually 
 giving way, the more I was brought in contact 
 with the offensive object. This is one of the most 
 fruitful dangers which beset young men. 1 had 
 reason afterwards to believe that Bud Halsey had 
 instructed Mowbray to throw himself in my way, 
 with the view to bringing me round to his pur 
 poses. This young man spoke with a vivacity 
 which was very much akin to wit. He was 
 sprightly, forcible and pungent in his remarks, 
 frequently novel and always audacious. That ho 
 was thoroughly unprincipled, need not be said, 
 when it is remembered what life he led and what 
 principles he professed to teach. Perhaps, there 
 is no hypocrisy so complete and lamentable, as 
 that of the professor of religion, having the care 
 of others, yet daily, and daringly, indulging in the 
 most unscrupulous practices of sin. 
 
 " You are cool to me," he said one day when I 
 was more than usually depressed by the circum 
 stances of my situation. He had joined me when 
 I least looked for, and least wished, any such 
 companionship. 
 
 "Why should we not be friends f" he con 
 tinued, without giving me time to answer. "Here 
 we are, both of us young fellows, neither want 
 ing in stuff for conversation, why should we not be 
 more frequently together ? As we have a little 
 
HELEN I1AL8EY. 113 
 
 world of our own here, why should we not make 
 the most of it ?" 
 
 "You may you should," was my answer. 
 " But you forget, it is your world, not mine." 
 " Make it yours why not 1" 
 44 Thank you, but I have no taste for cutting 
 throats or purses." 
 
 * Pshaw ! I do not mean that. There are 
 enough to do that without requiring either you or 
 me. My taste as little inclines to it as yours." 
 " Why then arc you here ? " 
 * A truant disposition like your own, perhaps. 
 But now that \ve are both here, whether from 
 choice or necessity, I am for making the most of 
 the situation. Why should not you ? Why, for 
 example, should you mope alone in these woods, 
 when you might have company?" 
 
 " Have I not ? Are you not with me ? w 
 " Yes ; but I verily believe that you would 
 rather my room than my company." 
 
 " You could scarcely believe this, yet continue 
 to give it me." 
 
 " You forget my profession !" he answered, 
 with a laugh. ".My religion compels me to seek . 
 the unhappy my humility prevents me from, 1 
 heeding their rebuffs. I am for saving you, my i 
 friend, in your own spite, for consoling you 
 when, perhaps, you would prefer to drain the 
 cup of bitterness to the dregs, through sheer ^ 
 obstinacy, and for giving you my good com- 
 
H4 HELEN RAL8ET. 
 
 pany, always, when you are most oppressed with 
 your own." 
 
 " Do you not incur some risk in this liberality? 
 Intrusion does not always get off with a simple 
 rebuff." . 
 
 " Ah ! you must not suppose I carry my re 
 ligion to excess. I do not tell you that I turn the 
 other cheek that it may be smitten also. I have 
 not yet reached .that point of patience and for- 
 bearancei when it is agreeable to set up for a 
 martyr. I have still a taste of the old leaven in 
 me, and can lay on as well as my neighbor. But 
 there need be no quarrel between us. Time 
 sometimes hangs heavily on my hands here, as it 
 evid ently does on yours. If we were to meet 
 oftener, it might weigh more lightly upon both. 
 I have usually been considered a good fellow as 
 a companion, and you seem a lad of mettle. You 
 have sense and spirit. Let us see if we cannot 
 help each other through the swamp no bad 
 figure for representing the dull days in this quar 
 ter. Come, now, let mj be your guide for the 
 next half hour, and I will show you some retreats 
 here which, I suspect, you have never seen be 
 fore. What say you ?" 
 
 I suffered him to lead me on. Indeed, I was 
 now not only indifferent to the route which I 
 should take, but somewhat regardless of ,the 
 character of my companion. The last few weeks 
 had made me tolerably reckless, and setting 
 aside some of my scruples as I proceeded with 
 him, I abruptly asked him for his history. 1 was 
 
HELEN HAL8EY. 115 
 
 anxious to get some insight into a character which 
 seemed so curiously compounded. 
 
 " My history !" he answered. " You shall have 
 it It will scarcely interest you, but will do you 
 good. You smile ?" 
 
 "Yes! why should you care whether it will 
 do me good or not ?" 
 
 " You mistake me somewhat. I have no wish 
 to do you harm." 
 
 " What ! not to involve me in your meshes- 
 make me an outlaw like yourself?" 
 
 " Pshaw, no ! I care for this neither one way 
 nor the other. My fault, indeed, is want of sym- 
 palhyjwith. my race." 
 
 " Why do you wish society, then companion 
 shipwhy seek mine?" 
 
 " Simply because I am selfish. Selfishness 
 makes good companionship. I seek you for my 
 self for my own enjoyment, not yours ; though 
 I shall have no sort of objection that you should 
 gain by the communion. But, you will know me 
 better when you have heard my story. Here, 
 we are secure. We have quite a pleasant shade. 
 The trees arch here in cathedral fashion. The 
 sun scarcely penetrates, except in little droplets 
 of light, and the effect is very much such as we 
 should suppose it would produce through the 
 stained windows of a gothic abbey. The breeze 
 comes up very pleasantly from that water. Your 
 wanderings have brought you here before." 
 
 The spot was very beautiful, with an interest 
 derived entirely from the foliage, and the mixed 
 
116 HKLEN IIALtfEY. 
 
 effect of shadow rind subdued sunlight* There 
 was no inequality in the landscape. The ground 
 was perfectly level, with a slight slope to the 
 water s edge. The creek wound semi-circularly 
 about us, and along the opposite edges was lined 
 with a thick fringe of canes, from whence shot 
 np the gigantic spire of cotton- wood tree or pine* 
 We sat down upon the shaft of a fallen tree, and, 
 after a few preliminaries, my companion began 
 his story as follows : 
 
 You see in me on instance of the injurious 
 effects of endeavoring to force goodness into the 
 heart by a sort of hot-house process. Unless by 
 miracle, b)} the direct intervention of Deity him- 
 Bel! , you cannot make a man a saint before his 
 _time, There must be some long preliminary 
 courses, There must be trials and preparations, 
 by which to subdue stubborn tendencies, irregu 
 lar passions, and a dogged, inflexible will. I do 
 not pretend to set before you the sort of training 
 which should be employed for this purpose. It 
 is enough that I had none of it ; and, with just 
 enough of prudence cunning, perhaps, would be 
 the proper word I suffered myself to be con 
 verted into an apostle, before I had ever thought 
 to overcome the natural desire which every man 
 is supposed to have to be a sinner. I was born 
 of good family, in one of the oldest of our north 
 ern cities. I need scarcely tell you that the 
 name I bear, is not the one to whtch I was born. 
 
HELEN HAL3EY. 1J7 
 
 I was tenderly nurtured and well-educated. My 
 father was not only distinguished in the social, 
 but in the intellectual world. He was a man of 
 profound scientific and literary acquirements, 
 highly and equally esteemed for his moral virtues 
 and mental superiority. It was, perhaps, my 
 misfortune in particular that he died, just at that 
 period when, emerging from boyhood into youth, 
 my training required the firm hand and the calm 
 thought of experienced wisdom. My boyhood 
 gave signs of intellectual promise. My youth 
 had other developments. I was wild and vicious, 
 fuIT of blood and passions eager in the attain 
 ment of my object, and not over-scrupulous 
 speaking-within certain limits of the process by 
 which this was to be done. But the tenderness 
 of relatives, and the sympathies of friends, kindly 
 charged all these developments to the exuber 
 ance of youth. I was simply sowing those wiid- 
 oats, which, I am disposed to think, must be sown 
 by all men, sooner or later, at some period in 
 their lives. The misfortune is, that, in my case, 
 sufficient time was not allowed me to sow my 
 tares, when I was required to enter upon another 
 sort of harvest. It is scarcely to be wondered 
 at if the tares and wheat came up pretty equally 
 together. 
 
 Our family was reduced in fortune and straiten 
 ed after my father s death, to such a degree, that 
 it became necessary painful necessity ! that 
 hereafter the sons should sow that they might 
 
118 HELEN HAL8EY. 
 
 V 
 
 reap. We were all required to work for our 
 biead, and the question was, in what way we 
 should encounter a necessity so humiliating, with 
 out losing the rank and consideration of gentle 
 men. This inquiry, of course, involved a farther 
 necessity, not only of finding a proper employ 
 ment, but one neither mechanical nor laborious- 
 one that, would neither soil the hands nor lessen 
 the leisure. Two of my brothers were already 
 lawyers, one was a physician, and as both these 
 professions were crowded, it was unanimously 
 concluded among my friends and relatives, that I 
 was to be a parson. Not that I had shewn any 
 of those moral qualities, which would naturally 
 incline a devout parent to see a future saint in 
 the son. I was neither humble in spirit t forbear 
 ing in my anger, nor gentle in my deportment. 
 I had nothing devotional about me. I had the 
 most indomitable will, I had the most fierce, 
 selfish and passionate desires, I had no single 
 requisite for the business of the pulpit, but such 
 as belonged to the simple intellect. As I do not 
 scruple to declare my moral deficiencies, so 1 do 
 not hesitate to avow my intellectual adequacy to 
 the work before me. I was warm, animated, 
 fluent, intense, in my earnestness, to the last de 
 gree, and, in the employment of illustration and 
 figure, equally forcible and ready. I was des 
 tined, so every body said, regarding nothing but 
 my mental endowments to figure as a new 
 Boanerges in the church. 
 
HELEN HALSEY. 110 
 
 But, at first, I was just as unwilling as I was 
 unprepared, to enter upon a duty for which my 
 mind had no sympathy. If I inclined to anything 
 in particular, it was to the law. To the forum 
 I looked as to the scene of my future triumphs 
 as to the field of my future eminence and fame. 
 But I was made to see with the eyes of others. 
 I was shewn the crowded state of the bar. I 
 was shewn the struggling and always half dis 
 tressed situation of my brothers, neither of whom 
 had, as yet, earned the salt for his porridge. They 
 were still an incumbrance on the very little pro 
 perty which the misfortunes of the family had 
 spared to my mother. Kpbody seemed to re 
 gard the moral requisites of the Churchman, as 
 at all necessary. Nothing, at least, was said on 
 this part of the subject. It was chosen for me as 
 a handicraft a trade by which I was to jump 
 into a snug living, and have the farther privilege 
 of choosing, as my own peculiar property, one of 
 the richest ewes of my flock. These results 
 were continually spoken of, as a matter of course, 
 by all around me. They formed a familiar topic 
 with the community. Religion had become so 
 much of a profession, among laity and clergy, 
 that the trading results were habitually looked 
 to, by both parties, as a legitimate subject of con 
 sideration. In old communities, which have been, 
 from immemorial time, distinguished for high so 
 cial tone, the maintenance of social appearances 
 becomes, finally, the leading object with all par- 
 
120 HELEN HALtiKY. 
 
 ties? and all th at is then requUite with the indi 
 vidual is, that he should respect his own cloth. 
 It does not matter that he should not deserve to 
 wear it. The only important particular is, that 
 he should wear it with decency. The rule holds 
 with religion as with medicine or law it is rank 
 ed with these as an ordinary means of employ 
 ment, and by many, as one of the most inferior. 
 Indeed,! one of my objections to adopting this pro 
 fession, arose from hearing it so frequently spoken 
 of as one that required little or no ability. The 
 common saying among us, was, when a fellow 
 is too stupid to be lawyer or doctor, you must 
 make him a parson. There was room for the 
 sarcasm. We had many boobies in the pulpit. 
 There was little eloquence and less thought. 
 Some of our divines were able men, but they had 
 grown tired of warring against those feminine 
 tastes in the audience, which called for little more 
 than common-places and declamation. Women, 
 of whom most of our American audiences are 
 composed, do no little towards the degradation 
 of the clergy. It requires but little skill and 
 management among them, to win the reputation 
 of great piety; and still less ability, to secure 
 that of eloquence and talent. I have frequent 
 ly amused myself, during my brief career in 
 the pulpit, in preaching nonsense-sermons, that 
 were simply complicate and high-sounding, lard* 
 ed at frequent intervals, with biblical phrases, 
 with which they were commonly acquainted. 1 
 
HELEN HALSEY. 12 
 
 have observed that, on such occasions, my preach 
 ing always gave the most satisfaction. I have 
 always been applauded for these sermons, and 
 more than once called upon to print them, but 
 I too well knew that what would be tolerated in 
 the pulpit, would never pass tho gauntlet of the 
 press, though, towards the close of my career, 
 when I was willing to break with my congre 
 gation, 1 was more than half temjrted to comply 
 with their wishes, and put forth a volume to show 
 how easily and admirably they had been gulled. 
 But I anticipate. 
 
 It was with considerable reluctance that I was 
 brought to regard the wishes of my friends and 
 family with favor. It was only when it became 
 evident that this was the only way in which I 
 could get my bread, and got it buttered too, that 
 I consented. Promises, assurances the most pos 
 itive, were held out to rne, not only of a church, 
 but of a wife, both of them tho most elegant and 
 eligible in every point of view. Then there was 
 the influence, the authority, which the cloth exer 
 cised; and, this was my own thought, and 
 that which rendered the suggestions of my friends 
 more palatable then there was the distinction, 
 the eminence to be attained by the pressing, per* 
 severing and highly endowed intellect. Won by 
 all these considerations, I became a student in 
 divinity, put on the grave suit and demeanor, and 
 went to my studies with the resolution not to 
 forego the cakes and ale, if they were to be had 
 
122 HELEN HAL8EY. 
 
 at the expense Jraly of a little hypocrisy. My 
 character was one of great energy, and might 
 have been of great power, had it been less capri* 
 clous. As it was, 1 devoted myself to study with 
 that earnestness which distinguished me in the 
 prosecution of all my plans. I was late and early 
 at my studios. Ambitious, to a very high degree, 
 the goal immediately before me was one of human 
 distinction. My industry and zeal became the 
 popular theme in our little world. Old men 
 looked upon me with wonder old women with ad 
 miration. I was sought by the grave and the seni 
 ors of both sexes. I listened with reverence, arid 
 when I spoke, dealt in sententious apothegms. 1 
 practiced my part with a degree of skill, which, 
 perhaps, was only remarkable for the consistency 
 which my character displayed, in spite of my 
 passions and caprices, during the tedious period 
 of my noviciate. I was successful, and the time 
 arrived when I should take orders and be admit* 
 ted to the priesthood. The ceremony you have 
 witnessed. I need not describe it. It is enough 
 for me to say, that, solemn as it is, terrible as is 
 the trust which the neophyte undertakes, and 
 awful as appear the responsibilities accruing 
 from his obligations, my mind strove in vain to 
 .concentrate its thoughts Upon the proceedings. 
 My heart had nothing to do with them. It was 
 communing apart with its own vanities yearn 
 ing with its merely human passions, and canvass- 
 i ing, at every interval, the hopes, and fears, and 
 
HELEN HALSEV. 123 
 
 fancies which occupy the spirit of the worlding. 
 But a little distance from me stood a maiden 
 whom my eyes had long singled out as the object 
 of their desires, I saw her not then, but I felt that 
 she was there. Pure and meek, she had long 
 before won the affections of one who was neither 
 pure nor meek. Unknown to herself, I had already 
 made JL conquest of her. That I knew. I was no 
 small Judge of the female heart. I had fathomed the 
 intricacies of hers, and resolving that she should 
 be my prize, I had adapted my deportment to 
 those tastes which, I felt assured, distinguished her 
 nature ; and, even at that moment when devoting 
 myself, mind and spirit, irrevocably to God and 
 the Redeemer, I thought of neither, except vague 
 ly, uncertainly, and without being at all touched 
 by the profound de pth of the obligation waich my 
 lips had sworn, I* thought only of the mortal 
 beauty whose spirit seemed effused about me, 
 whose presence I felt was near, whose eyes, I 
 well knew, watched every step in the progress 
 of the ceremony, with the intense interest of the 
 purest human love. I was ordained I had at 
 tained one of the objects of my hypocritical en 
 deavor, and the struggle now was for the rest. 
 Did I attain them ? Did I doubt of their attain 
 ment ? You shall hear ! 
 
 Yet, do not misunderstand me. If you suppose 
 that I did not strive after religion, when I had 
 once undertaken the study, you will do me in 
 justice. It may be that I did not strive enough, 
 
124 HELEN HALBET. 
 
 with all my heart, with all my mind, and with all 
 my strength, as we are required but I certainly 
 did not set out to persevere in a merely cold sys 
 tem of hypocrisy. I was not unwilling to become 
 what I wished to profess. I strove, I studied, I 
 thought, I nsked. It is not improbable thut in 
 study, thought and inquiry, I sometimes forgot 
 prayer, I did not pray enough. I never ac 
 quired the first most necessary frame of mind. I 
 had no humility, and this want, had not my 
 congregation been wilfully, and beyond redemp 
 tion, blind, must have betrayed me long before 
 I wilfully betrayed myself. I was myself de 
 ceived. I sometimes fancied that my condition 
 of mind was good was what it should be. This 
 was during my noviciate. I was never deceived 
 in this manner after my assumption of the duties 
 of the priesthood* No ! no ! I knew myself by 
 this time, and the struggle thence was simply to 
 keep the real nature from any and every exhibi 
 tion inconsistent with that which I had put on. 
 But of this hereafter. - 
 
 My friends kept their promises. They pro 
 cured me a church, and noble congregation. I 
 was at once installed into a good living, and, very 
 soon after, chose, from among my flock, the fair 
 and truly good creature, upon whom, so long a 
 season, my eyes had been set. She did not, with 
 feminine subtlety, endeavor to hide from me the 
 joy she felt when I declared my passion for her. 
 * She jvas too, too happy > Such were the words 
 
HELEN HALSEY. 125 
 
 muttered in my bosom, as she yielded herself to 
 my embrace. We were married, and with her 
 self she brought me a handsome property. Was 
 J satisfied ? Was I happy ? No ! I had reaped 
 the reward of my toils, I had gained all the 
 objects which had been proposed to me, when I 
 first commenced my career of hypocrisy. Sta 
 tion, fortune, fame ! for I had grown famous in 
 our little world but, I did not deceive myself 1 
 I was not only not happy, but I was ill at ease. 
 The constraint upon my nature was a bondage 
 which I yearned to throw off, I was like the 
 captive in the toils ! True, I was surrounded by 
 plenty- beauty was in my arms fortune at my 
 feet crowds of admirers followed in my steps 
 troops of friends gathered at. my bidding my 
 voice could still or rouse the multitude my name 
 was honored wherever spoken but / lived a He I 
 and every moment of breath and being was a* 
 pang. I do not say that my moral sense revolted 
 at this condition. No ! it was my blood, my 
 passions, which, restra ; ned, in order to the ac 
 quisition of an object, threatened momently to 
 revenge themselves for the unnatural and uncon 
 genial bondage into which my will had forced 
 them. 
 
 Meanwhile, had the theatre of my mind been 
 uch as it could have chosen, I should have been 
 content. My mind was fully exercised. In the 
 habit of intensifying on every subject, I was 
 necessarily a most enthusiastic preacher. Never 
 
120 HELEN RAL8EY* 
 
 was the vehement of true zeal and genuine piety 
 more life-like than mine. They attributed this 
 vehemence to my zeal and piety, when it was 
 only the natural working of my blood. In a dis 
 putation in behalf of atheism, I should have been 
 equally vehement. It was the characteristic of 
 my temperament. But nobody inquired into this. 
 It was enough that I kept them from sleeping ; 
 that, all animation myself, I enlivened them. Of 
 course, nobody who goes to church applies to 
 himself the denunciations of the preacher. The 
 simple fact of church-going seems sufficiently to 
 satisfy the ordinary mind ; and people fancy they 
 are in a very comfortable sort of trim for heaven 
 when they yield audible responses to tha preach 
 er, and never forget to make their genuflexions 
 at the appropriate moment. I saw and under 
 stood all this, and was by no means unsparing of 
 the scourge. I laid it on with heavy hand, and, 
 assured in my own heart of my own miserable 
 hypocrisy, this conviction furnished an additional 
 reason why I should cry aloud, and spare not, in 
 dealing with the sinfulncss of others. In this 
 sort of excitement I lived I drew my breath. 
 My blood demanded excitements, and, dammed 
 Up in its natural tendencies, was forced to find 
 outlet and utterance through other avenues^ Was 
 there a controversy with another sect or church, 
 I headed it ; was there a new mission to be 
 established, I counselled it, urged it, and com* 
 polled it* Furious in my struggles, I made a 
 
HELEN UAL8EY. 127 
 
 battle field wherever I came, and while all were 
 delighted and wondering at my zeal in the cause 
 of the Redeemer, I brought nothing but religious 
 uproar, and confusion, and disputation wherever I 
 appeared. 
 
 Had my congregation been only half-witted, 
 had they but bestowed upon the subject but 
 half the thought which the meanest of them gave 
 to his ordinary worldly concern s they must have 
 more than suspected my sincerity. The very 
 excess of my fervor, must have made them doubt 
 its purity and source. But a fow years before 
 not five, I had been notoriously a very vicious 
 youth noted for excesses, and recognizing, with 
 difficulty, any restraint. On a sudden, the change 
 had been effected. Now, it is not denied that 
 this change of heart, can be effected by the ruling 
 powers of Providence, at any moment, in a mc- 
 ment, in the twinkling of an eye; but this change 
 of heart, must subdue the heart, must teach pa 
 tience, humility, and moderation. The individual 
 must remember, with horror, his own past of 
 fences, and must, in fear and trembling, approach, 
 those of others. If such a change produces any 
 external results at all, it must be in this very par 
 ticular. It must lead to great toleration. Mercy, 
 not denunciation, will be the language of the 
 newly reformed humility, not arrogance, pa 
 tience, not imperiousness. There was no such 
 show in me. On the contrary, never did self-ap 
 pointed legate, more freely use God s thunder. 
 
128 HELEN HAL8C*. 
 
 The Pope was noi more imperious, when, setting 
 his feet upon the necks of princes, he insisted 
 that the act was done in his two-fold character, 
 of man and father, thun was I in dealing with 
 those very faults and vices in others, in which, 
 but a little while before, I had notoriously indulg 
 ed myself. But I had no help. My passionate 
 and imperious nature was resolute to speak out, 
 and this was the only way in which it could ex 
 ercise itself, consistently with the part which 1 
 was now compelled to play, to tha mockery of 
 Goxl and man alike. 
 
 But there was a change at hand. In the midst 
 of my successes when I stood in the regards of 
 the community as little less thnn u God when 
 thouKtimU followed, nnd, without knowing or sus 
 pecting it, hundred* of poor women worshipped 
 me when my eloquence was most brilliant, my 
 exhortations most urgent, my severities and re 
 bukes most pungent, nnd excoriating my secret 
 was discovered. It could not be concealed from 
 one who hud been among the firat to follow to 
 worship me and to love my wife! Without 
 being a philosopher, her moral and religious in 
 stincts were true; there are religious instincts in 
 every nature, to be brought out by education; 
 to her my secret was betrayed on numerous oc 
 casions. Seeing me at home-? in dlsabille 
 without those restraints of decorum in which I 
 garbed myselt lor the encounter with others, she 
 soon huvl sufficient proof that I was no saint* 
 
HELEN IIALBE7. 129 
 
 My passions, my temper, my real nature was 
 not to be hid from her, and when the applauses 
 of others filled her ears when her friends eulo 
 gized my virtues, and congratulated her on her 
 good fortune, in the possession of such a saint, 
 she only wept. She was no more to be flatter 
 ed into happiness, than she was to be deceived 
 by externals. She could not conceal her conric- 
 tions and fecjings from me. Long did she strive 
 to do so, but her Christian spirit triumphed. She 
 revealed to me the extent of her discoveries, her 
 fears, her wretchedness, she implored me to re 
 pent in sincerity, or, at least, to forbear the pro 
 fession which could only be dishonored by my 
 hypocrisy. She did not use this language, but 
 this was the substance of what she said. She 
 employed the gentlest forms of speech, such as 
 were dictated by a still devoted heart and an 
 ardent passion. But I flung her from me. She 
 had doubly offended me, as she had discovered 
 my secret, and, in doing so, had shewn me that 
 the love which she bore for me, did not amount 
 to the adoration which alone I sought. My de 
 sires were of that imperious sort, that would ad 
 mit of nothing qualifying in the homage which I 
 received. The whole heart for me, or none, 
 and it must be a thoroughly confiding heart, a 
 perfect faith, never questioning, always submit 
 ting, always assured with the old-time loyalty of 
 the serf that the king could do no wrong. I 
 
 flung her from me, it was the Sabbath, and* 
 6* 
 
180 HELEN HALBET. 
 
 proceeding to my, pulpit, I made the high ceilings 
 echo again with the intensity of my exhortations. 
 I was never more eloquent. I was stung, pro 
 voked, exasperated, and, at such moments, my 
 vehemence was a torrent *that defied all let or 
 hindrance. But my wife went not with me. 
 From that day forth she was never more an audi 
 tor of mine. She pfayed at home in secret, 
 and, I wejl fnew, that her prayers were for me. 
 But her firmness vexed me. Her superiority 
 wounded me. Her keenness of remark annoyed 
 me. She was no longer to be deceived ; and, 
 whatever might be her external bearing and it 
 was exemplary, I felt that, though, perhaps, se 
 cure of her obedience, I was no longer secure 
 of her respect. 
 
 Thus passed several months, and, with my 
 domestic relations such as I have described 
 them, the constraints of my public career be 
 came more irksome. The redeeming circum 
 stances by which I had been consoled, the ap 
 plause and admiration though not by any means 
 lessened, began to stale upon my estimation. 
 The field was a confined one the audience 
 Was the same- I had already heard their wonder 
 it no longer gave me pleasure. It no longer re 
 warded my eloquence or stimulated my exertions. 
 I felt, more and more, with the progress of every 
 day, the intensest cravings for my freedom. That 
 denied, what was all in possession ? The passion 
 grew to morbidness, and, but for one event, the 
 
HELEN I1AL3EY. 13! 
 
 catastrophe which finally happened, would at onco 
 have taken place. My wife brought me a child, 
 a fine, fair son, that, for the time, by appealing to 
 the more ordinary human feeling, reconciled me 
 somewhat to the restraints of my position. Caress 
 ing him, I felt how sweet it was to be a father. 
 My wife seized the moment when she saw me 
 most tenderly engaged in fondling him, to renew 
 her entreaties and exhortations, and so meekly, 
 so tenderly, so like an angel, that, had my pas 
 sions been less like that of a demon, I must have 
 been overcome. I ans\vered her gloomily, almost 
 fiercely, and left the room. It is not easy for you 
 to imagine my feelings from this slight survey of 
 my position. No man, whatever be his nature, 
 feels quite at ease in daily communion of the most 
 confiding and affectionate character, with those 
 whom he defrauds. Such was the relation in 
 which I stood with my flock. Besides, mine was 
 a diseased nature, and the fraud w r as one of the 
 most extreme and vital character. Every en 
 counter with my congregation was productive of 
 a struggle, and you may suppose many more 
 struggles of conscience and prudence must have 
 grown out of a position which exposed me to some 
 of the most peculiar temptations.. The office 
 which I held is one of peculiar and scarcely limit- 
 able privileges and powers. The trial must be a 
 great one, even where the professor is a really 
 good man, conscious only of the best purposes. 
 What was mine ? That I yielded that I did not 
 
132 HELEN HALSEY. 
 
 always struggle, that I frequently abused my 
 trust, you may conjecture it is not for me to re* 
 late. But, usually, the vicious man, if busy with 
 out, in a practice which wrongs his neighbor, is 
 not often met at home with those rebukes and re 
 proaches, on that account, which he does not hear 
 abroad. If ho himself does not offend against his 
 wife, she is very apt, readily, to forgive his of 
 fences against others, Not so, mine ! Her love 
 for me, based originally on her convictions of my 
 piety, wos not sufficient to keep her silent when 
 my secret was in her possession* Her love for 
 purity was greater. Her loyalty to God was 
 superior to that which she felt for me 5 and for 
 this, I was indignant. Half-formed calculations, 
 plans and purposes, of remedy and relief, began 
 to fill my brain ; and, at this time, had my sermons 
 been scanned by a suspicious judgment, they 
 would have been found distinguished by a tono of 
 bitterness and sarcasm, if not contempt, which, ad- 
 dressed as they were to my audience, would have 
 tended, in no great degree, to render them satis 
 fied either with their seats or my eloquence. It was 
 then too, that I amused myself at their ex 
 pense, with those nonsense sermons, of which 
 I have already given you some idea. You may 
 imagine it did not increase my estimate of the 
 .value of their judgments, even when shown in 
 my own eulogies, when I found them particularly 
 delighted with these specimens of rigmarole. 
 Having reached this stage, can you not guess the 
 
HELEN IUL3EY. 133 
 
 rest ? Having gained all that I could gain by the 
 constraints which I had put upon my nature 
 having found these gains unsatisfactory, if not 
 worthless what had I to bind me to my home ? 
 My wife prtied rather than loved me, and the 
 flock by which I might have been loved, was the 
 object of my own scorn and dislike. I left them, 
 and, with a sense of joy in my new found 
 liberty, which I should find myself at a loss for 
 language to describe. You cannot conceive the 
 satisfaction which I felt in writing a farewell 
 letter to the heads of the church. I revenged 
 myself in that for long months of bondage. I 
 filled it with passages of most withering scorn. 
 I avowed my own hypocrisy, but reminded them 
 of theirs, and asserted my better claims to God s 
 favor, by the very proceeding by which, in the 
 estimation of the world, I had renounced God 
 himself namely, my resignation from a station 
 to which, as I alleged, scarcely one of us had any 
 proper pretensions. That I had ceased to be a 
 hypocrite, was a sufficient reason to hope for my 
 final regeneration .as an honest man. This step 
 was taken in connection with several others. I 
 renounced home, and wife, and child, at the samo 
 moment. It was sonfte proof, perhaps, that I was 
 not utterly reckless, when I felt unwilling any 
 longer to look them in the .face. I had means, 
 I had money, and, passing to New Orleans, I 
 found an element of sufficient elasticity for my 
 moral nature, in its various theatres of pleasure 
 
134 HELEN flALSEY 
 
 
 
 and "dissipation. I took ample revenge for my 
 long abstinence. I drank- I yarned and, to 
 make a long story short, I am here ! You look 
 at me with horror ! Hear me ! I believe there 
 is a God, and I believe there, is a devil. We are 
 the subjects of one or the other, and if one rejects 
 cmr services, as not worthy of him, it is scarcely 
 possible" U> suppose that the other will not have 
 need of them. We cannot well war with the 
 direction given us. Miracles may do much, but 
 there is little wisdom in waiting for them* I 
 would hope if I could but I despair. I toil with 
 the conviction that I am a doomed man Doomed 
 from my birth. The appalling feeling is over 
 me, that under this doom I will perish perish 
 forever ! That this high spirit is utterly outcast 
 that this high thought, which I have betrayed, 
 and this glorious mind which I have defrauded 
 of its privileges, and degraded to evil purposes- 
 will become extinct. I shudder with the thought 
 of annihilation, since it is only the hope of im 
 mortality that moves the moral, and satisfies the 
 intellectual nature. You see that I do not exult 
 in this depravation. You see that I relate the 
 story of the past without pleasure 1 That I suf 
 fer 1 That I feel the follymnd the sin of all that 
 miserable boy-career, begun in narrow schemes, 
 / and finishing in shocking perversion. You ask 
 | why I do not change why I stubbornly live in 
 sin why I do not regret, repent, retrieve ? What 
 ViLL tell you of my tears, my prayers, my repent- 
 
^ HELEN HALSEY. 135 
 
 ance ? I do weep ! I do repent ! But what is 
 repentance that does nothing but weep ? This is 
 mine ! I do nothing ! My repentance is without 
 results ! I cannot pray I cannot toil in any 
 work cf good ! There is a terrible power that 
 denies me that keeps me back from the very 
 first performances of repentance ! I dare not 
 ask what is this power I I only feel i!>; t its pre 
 sence is upon me, baffling my purpose, and 
 mocking at all my hopes ! It never can be with 
 drawn 1 I am not suffered to approach the 
 throne of God I am doomed, utterly doomed of 
 heaven 1" 
 
 Thus ended this extraordinary narrative. The 
 speaker had risen, long before he came to the 
 close, under the exciting character of what he 
 said. He now sat down, but, suddenly, again 
 rose to his feet, as if to depart. There had been 
 a very decided and remarkable change in his ap 
 pearance, during its progress. At the beginning, 
 his features had been marked by a good-humor 
 ed indifference, a sort of easy, careless, good- 
 natured recklessness, which half reconciled me to 
 a person, against whom my prejudices were na 
 turally strong at first. But, as he proceeded, he 
 became excited in his narrative, and very soon 
 illustrated, by his example, the characteristic of 
 ntcnsity, which he insisted upon as so prominent 
 in lus temperament. At the close* and when ho 
 
136 HELEN HALBET. 
 
 pronounced those scarcely coherent, but very 
 solemn sentences, with which he abruptly finish- 
 ed his narrative, his features grew dark. There 
 was a wild and troubled expression in his eyes, 
 
 (which were sombre and restless, as some deep 
 pool which secret fires are troubling. His lips 
 were parted and the corners drooped, while his 
 breast labored with emotions, which must have 
 aptly corresponded with those which his words 
 expressed. The awful thoughts which had fallen 
 from him, if really entertained, were well calcu 
 lated to awaken the most fearful agonies in his 
 breast. To what a dreadful approach had he 
 come ! Upon what a precipice did he stand ; 
 and how wretched and demoniac the sort of 
 philosophy from which he proposed to draw his 
 consolation, We may suppose that when Luci 
 fer broke finally with Heaven, and had no more 
 hope, that ho consoled himself by some such 
 philosophy. He was not in the mood, nor 1 in 
 the vein, for farther conversation. At such a mo 
 ment, any attempt at exhortation on my part, 
 would have been as injudicious as impertinent. 
 We walked together for a space in silence* I 
 need not say how much my respect for this un 
 happy person had increased, from hearing his 
 Btory. I say respect, because it was now evi* 
 dent to me, that his position and practices were 
 not such as were agreeable to him t _ He was 
 wretched, and the worm of remorse was already 
 busy at his viials. In this was my hope on his 
 
HELEN HALSET. 137 
 
 Behalf, though it was evidently not his own. 
 /There is some hope for the sinner who is miser- 
 aBle, none for him who is insensible. As we 
 reached the place where he had joined me and 
 we were about to separate, he turned to me, 
 and said warningly : 
 
 " I had forgotten ! Be cool, be cautious, in 
 what you design. Do nothing hastily! Bud 
 Halsey already suspects you, and he is master 
 here. His brother can do nothing. Be warned ! 
 1 would befriend you." 
 
 " What mean you ?" 1 demanded. 
 
 "Nothing but what I have said. It is what 
 you mean, that is the question. Bud Halsey has 
 notc( d your discontent. He suspects its cause. 
 He suspects you, your wife, his brother ! He has 
 his eye upon you all. Beware !" 
 
 He disappeared in another instant, and, musing 
 upon what he said, I made my way homewards. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 WUAT were my designs ? The Inst words, 
 the warning caution which Mowbray had sug 
 gested, produced a closer degree of self-examina 
 tion than I had ever before undertaken I naa 
 
138 HELEN HALSET. 
 
 I 
 
 no designs. I was aware of none } but that it 
 was expected of me that I should entertain some, 
 naturally led me to them. Was I to be fettered 
 in this way all my life ; my youth lost ; my 
 better days and energies swallowed up in such a 
 miserable sphere of imbecility as that in which I 
 found myself release from which seemed only ob 
 vious on terms of still worse degradation ? The 
 thought was inexpressibly t humiliating. From 
 humiliation I got strength I got resolve. My pur 
 pose suddenly adopted, was to fly from my prison 
 to devote all my energies, all my intellect, to this 
 one purpose. But art was necessary cunning I 
 was to foil the devil at his own game with his 
 own weapons. To this resolve I rushed, ere I 
 reached the cottage of Bush Halsey. There, I 
 found my wife awaiting me. I threw oft" the air 
 of despondency which had possessed me. The 
 simple determination to be doing something had 
 its effect in relieving me from the mental prostra 
 tion under which I had suffered. I met Helen 
 with a degree of buoyancy which I had never 
 shewn before. My rude laughter, and violent 
 mirth, made her look at me with surprise, but it 
 was a surprise not unmixed with pleasure. She 
 congratulated me and herself upon the change, 
 and, in the belief that I was as happy as she wish 
 ed me, and quite content with herself of which 
 my late sullenncss had made her somewhat doubt 
 ful, she surrendered herself up to the feeling of 
 joy which, for the time, had neither doubt nor 
 
HELEN HALSEY. 139 
 
 qualification. In these feelings of satisfaction, 
 Bush Halsey shared. He had beheld my des 
 pondency with dissatisfaction, and readily divined 
 the cause. But he could see no remedy. He 
 knew his brother the tyrannical nature, by 
 which, himself governed, he governed all others; 
 and, believing that I had no escape from the 
 Swamp, he could only counsel me to the sort of 
 resignation by which he himself was reconciled 
 to it. But the change which my deportment had 
 undergone, if it deceived both himself and daugh 
 ter, did not long deceive the latter, or she began 
 to doubt the purity and propriety of its origin. 
 Women are close observers, and arrive, by the 
 keenest instincts, at the truth in all things which 
 much affect the objects whom they love. What 
 ever might be the success of my practice upon 
 others, its tendency was more than doubtful to 
 her, and, after a few weeks, she was less satisfied 
 with my violent good spirits than she had been at 
 first. These alone, perhaps, would not have 
 disquieted her, but, by this time, I had become 
 rather a frequent associate with the outlaw par 
 son. The flexibility of this man was wonderful. 
 He had left me, on the day when I hud heard his 
 narrative, looking more like a maniac than a man. 
 Never could I suppose that the same person 
 would ever smile again. The next day, he met 
 me with a bawdy jest. Jt was one of the 
 characteristics of his temperament to be easily 
 moved by the passing influence, whether grave 
 
140 HELEN BAL8BT. 
 
 I 
 
 or gny~a sort of moral character to receive 
 it dark or bright aspects from the colors with 
 which ho came in contact, I found him al 
 ways thus capricious j at one moment gloomy, 
 even to ferocity, and sometimes touched with 
 a sort of religious fanaticism that would have 
 done honor to tho ro^gcdest bare-bones of 
 the Long IJn filament. The next day, ho was 
 the courtier nil gravity und smiles, and as loose 
 in his morals as the most reckless cavalier of 
 tho Court of Charles the Second as courtly 
 as Waller, and as licentious as Rochester, 
 as sentimental sometimes as the one, and again 
 as filthily witty as tho otliurf Ho realized tho 
 extremes of character more suddenly, in the same 
 person, and frequently on the same day, than any 
 other man I ever met* I confess that I was not 
 uniVcquently pleaded with his society his wit 
 hiri eloquence his Hfntiment, He had all upon 
 occasion, und. had ho been an adroit man, might, 
 J believe, have led me as ho pleased. But he 
 1 was totally devoid of judgment. Had none of 
 m that moral prudence which makes the great poli 
 tician ; and, while he won at one momentt -he too 
 frequently offended all my tastes, and disgusted 
 me at another. I sought him, however, and this 
 flattered him. I was rather superior as a com 
 panion to those with whom he ordinarily associ 
 ated, and, in the better capacity "which I brought 
 to appreciate his merits, he showed himself very 
 accessible on tho scoro of mine. In the new 
 
-H 
 
 HELEN HAI.SEY. 141 
 
 pleasure which I occasionally found in his society, 
 in the excitement which it afforded and offered 
 me, and in the prosecution of the plan which I 
 had hit upon for extricating myself from the 
 meshes in which I was bound, I sought him fre 
 quently. He was not the person lo pry very 
 deeply into the sources of the pleasure which he 
 received, nor to analyse those motives in others, 
 the results of ^ which afforded him the society 
 which he desired. He seemed to take for grant 
 ed, with that vanity which was a large feature 
 in his character, that I sought him because of his 
 intellect. 1 encouraged the idea, made frequent 
 appeals to his judgment, and, by getting him to 
 dilate upon various passages and portions of his 
 story, directed his thoughts upon himself rather 
 than to mine. In this way I brought not only 
 him, but others, to the conviction that I was fast 
 losing my superior moral standard, and reconcil 
 ing myself to such as were paramount in the 
 Swamp. Bud Halsey looked on me with more 
 complacency, and not unfrcquently contrived to 
 join the parson and myself in tho long rambles 
 which we now so frequently took together. He 
 had occasionally n word for me of more particu 
 lar favor, and took care to confirm, by sentences 
 of mingled sneer and compliment, those impres 
 sions, which, ho fancied, had been conveyed by 
 my companion to my mind. 
 . * You will be a man yet 1" was his frequent 
 
149 ItBLK* HAL8EY. 
 
 phrase, as he left us for his other objects. * Your 
 eyes are opening." 
 
 But the circumstances which gave him satis* 
 faction now, afforded none to his brother, Bush 
 Halsey, or my wife. Their attachment to me, 
 os I have intimated rather than said, arose in 
 part from the tenacious firmness with which I 
 had held to my virtues. I have endeavored to 
 show that Bush Halsey was the victim of his own 
 imbecility, as well as of circumstances. A good 
 man, meaning well, and with an excellent mind, 
 he was yet controlled entirely by the superior 1 
 will of his brother a man of inferior intellect 
 of bad habits and character-*-but of indomitable 
 energies, and unrelaxing determination. It was 
 his own misery that, unwilling to face bankruptcy 
 and its consequences, in the civilized community 
 in which he had lived like a nobleman, he was 
 yet compelled to rear up his only child a girl 
 * in contact with the wretched profligates 
 among whom I found him. But, once a slave, 
 such a man always remains a slave. From the 
 moment that he yielded to the suggestions of 
 his brother, and fled from his creditors to the 
 wilderness, from that moment, he yielded himself 
 up to a bondage, from which he did not now hope 
 to set himself free. But that his child should 
 grow up in such a situation, with no escape from 
 such a life, was to him a source of perpetual suf 
 fering. Elegant himself in his tastes, he had tutor 
 ed hers, with a degree of watchfulness and skill 
 
HELEN 1IALSEY. 143 
 
 which can better be conjectured than detailed . 
 and it was with a feeling. of exultation therefore, 
 that he hailed the circumstances, already narra 
 ted, by which I had become her husband. Still, 
 I do not mean to say that he counselled, encour 
 aged, or in any wise contributed to those arrange 
 ments of his brother, by which that event was 
 precipitated. Let me do him the justice to say, 
 that I verily believe the event, as it did happen, 
 was distasteful to him. His simple wish, as he 
 frankly avowed to me afterwards, was that we 
 should grow together, by the natural tendencies 
 of a sympathetic passion, and he did not believe 
 that his brother would seriously oppose my de 
 parture from their retreat, when my connection 
 with Helen should become indissoluble. He did 
 not know the despotical nature of that man. Ho 
 did not conceive it possible that such a connec 
 tion, as that which Bud Halsey acknowledged 
 with the outlaws, could so completely subdue 
 and set at nought, the natural ties of kindred flesh 
 and blood. He was yet to learn, how terribly 
 and entirely this was to be done hereafter. 
 
 It will be easy to understand how, even to 
 him, not less than my wife, the idea that I was 
 about to be beguiled from my virtue, by the 
 .subtleties of Mowbray, was of intolerable annoy 
 ance. He had indulged himself in the hope, that 
 I was to restore his daughter to society. For 
 himself he had no serious cares on this subject. 
 He, too, would like to return to society. . He 
 
144 HELEN X II ALflfiY. 
 
 lived among the butlaws in a sort of Coventry, 
 distrusting them, and half distrusted by them ; 
 but he was no longer so youthful as to feel deep 
 ly the privation, except on account of one, whose 
 happiness was truly so much dearer than his own. 
 lie did not doubt that the tinw would come, when 
 I should bo suflercd^ to go free, and ho shrunk 
 with horror from the thought that, meanwhile, I 
 should be 1 guilty of any course of conduct, which 
 should lessen my desire to return, or aftect my 
 pcaco of mind and nccurity when 1 did so. Tito 
 clmngoH in my deportment surprised him, nnd, 
 as in the case of his daughter, at the first blush, 
 gave him pleasure. They had both been dis 
 posed to ascribe my previous gloom to a les- 
 sening of my regard for the latter to the staling 
 of a boyish passion in possession of its object; and 
 tx change in this roHpcot, in my conduct, was too 
 grateful at first sight, to render them at all dcsi- 
 rous of seeking farther into its causes. But when 
 my intimacy with Muwbray was remarked 
 when, too, it was seen that 1 betrayed more cu 
 riositymore (sympathy with the proceedings 
 of the outlaws, -and when Hud HulNoy began to 
 regard me with favor, every apprehension of 
 poor Helen was around. The favor of her 
 uncle, seemed to her, one of the most doubtful 
 and dangerous of signs. The danger seemed 
 conclusive, when, one morning, Hud Hulsey sent 
 me my horsi 1 . The bravo animal had been taken 
 from me, at my first coming I had not been per- 
 
HELEN HALSEY. 145 
 
 milled to see him since, and when, with a senti- 
 menl of pride nnd pleasure which I could not con 
 ceal, I went forth, laid my hand upon his neck, 
 and heard him whinny his recognition as he 
 heard my voice, then all her suspiciors seemed 
 confirmed. I was about to leap upon him, with 
 all that gush of unmeasured exultation, which 
 youth feels, confident of slrength, buoyant with 
 prospects of assured success, and in the posses 
 sion of one of those agents of power and speed, 
 .in the employment of which the impetuous nature 
 feels all that enthusiasm and delight which grows 
 out of the intimate union and joint action of blood 
 and brain ; my hand was on his neck, my foot in 
 the slirrup when Helen called me to her side. 
 
 ** Go not yet, dear Henry come with me first 
 but a moment. I would speak with you." 
 
 I confess to a little reluctance at quitting the 
 animal, even at the solicitation of one so dear. 
 But I followed her. There was nobody besides 
 in the cottage. Her father had gone out on a 
 ramble. When I joined her in the chamber to 
 which she had returned, she at once, and passion 
 ately, putting her hand upon my arm, thus ad 
 dressed me: 
 
 "Oh, Henry, forgive me, but I fear you, I sus 
 pect you !" 
 
 "Suspect me ? of what, dear Helen?" 
 
 This horse, this new favor of my uncle, your 
 intimacy with that Mr. Mowbray, all moke me 
 tremble lest they ceduce you to their evil p ra c 
 
140 HELEN HALSEY. 
 
 tices lest you should be tempted*- lest you 
 should fall ! Oh, Henry, be not tempted, be firm, 
 go not with them to do evil. Go notr for my 
 sake, Henry, for your own sake; go not, go 
 not 1" 
 
 I kissed her, oh ! how fondly pressed her to 
 my bosom and while the tears gathered in her 
 eyes, while she clung to me with continued 
 pleading,^ I begged her to be quiet to believe 
 me still. It was necessary, however, that I should 
 maintain appearances, and, breaking from her, I 
 hurried to horse, and proceeded to join Mowbray 
 in a canter which he proposed. How ^fclt my 
 self, once more on horseback! What a feeling 
 of pride it inspires, mounted on a noble steed 
 who knows his own strength, and. rejoices in the 
 free play of his majestic limbs. My horse knew 
 his rider, and I him, and as I rode forth to meet 
 Mowbray, I found myself calculating the chances 
 of a long chase, through swamp and through 
 briar, against any, the best mettled, in the camp 
 of the outlaws. 
 
HELEN HALSEY. 147 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 IT will be unnecessary that I should enter into 
 the details of the game which I had taken it in 
 hand to play. Of the numerous daily interviews 
 I had with Mowbray, and others of the outlaws, 
 I shall say little. Let it suffice that I flattered . 
 myself with having fooled them all to the top of 
 their bent. Even Bud Halsey, I at length grew 
 satisfied, had became convinced that I was ready 
 to thrust out my cold iron, and cry * stand ! to a 
 true man, whenever he should give the signal. 
 In this, the probabilities favored me. It was 
 natural enough that a youth of my age arid tern* 
 per, situated as I was at the moment, should soon 
 overcome tho scruples of my education, in an 
 anxiety to feel my freedom once more nay,, that 
 my principles should very soon become corrupted, 
 breathing such a rogues atmosphere, and in daily 
 contact with some of the choicest specimens of 
 scoundrelism. I had striven, in playing my part, 
 not to suffer it to appear that I made the transi 
 tion too easily from a rugged honesty to a loose 
 indifference to all its exactions. On the contrary, 
 at first, I allowed it to appear that my chief plea 
 sure was in being once more on horseback, I 
 next suffered Mowbray to perceive that his con 
 versation interested me. I laughed heartily at 
 his jests ; he had no small powers of humor, and 
 
148 1IBLBN I1ALSKY. 
 
 could hit off a ludicrous picture in low life with 
 the extravagance and felicity of Lover. By little 
 and little I let mysel be led to association with 
 others, and, finally, to partake in their amuse 
 ments. The outlaws were generally great card- 
 players, and Mowbfay himself was an adept. 
 They had other amusements, some of which 
 were even of less intellectual character. Quoits, 
 hurling the 1 bar, and the Indian ball-play, were in 
 common use, at moments of leisure ; and, for 
 the indulgence of these amusements, they had 
 more than one fine amphitheatre, formed by 
 natural but small prairie spots in the Swamp. 
 Pistol and rifle shooting, I readily joined in, for 
 reasons that will be understood. It gave me 
 practice in the weapons upon which, could I 
 secure them, it might be that I should have to 
 depend ; though, when I saw how expert were 
 the outlaws generally with them, I shuddered at 
 the idea of encountering them. I have seen them 
 frequently trim their dog s ears and tails by rified- 
 pistols, at ten or twelve paces ; and there was 
 one of them, an Alabamian, by the name of Brew- 
 ton, that could, at every shot, hit a half dollar 
 piece while falling, which he himself had thrown 
 into the air. I could do nothing like this, but I 
 could lay my bullet at twelve paces within the 
 circle of a man s breast, and I did not care, for 
 such purposes as I had in view, to do better than 
 that. 
 
 In these sports, Bud Halsey now frequently 
 joined us, and, if you can suppose such a thing as 
 
HELEN HAL8EY. 149 
 
 civility in a bear, then was he civil to me. He 
 had a sort of rough, condescending pleasantry 
 about him, when in a good humor, which greatly 
 increased his popularity with the men, but which, 
 us it was a seeming condescension, was more 
 offensive to my pride than had been his insolence 
 and harshness. But I contrived to keep down 
 my gorge, and to stomach, in some way, what I 
 could not easily digest. It was a severe task, 
 but I toiled faithfully to maintain appearances 
 suited to the new character I had assumed. I 
 pleased myself with the hope that I had deceived 
 him. He evidently looked with satisfaction at 
 my increasing familiarity with his men, and at 
 my engaging in practices which, if not in them 
 selves immoral, are at least very often associated, 
 among men, with those which are so. I gamed, 
 and drank, and swore growing worse, every 
 day, by little and little, and reconciling myself to 
 these excesses by a frequent secret reference to 
 . the object which I desired to attain. It was a 
 gratifying thing to me, as it convinced me of my 
 successful acting, that Bush Halsey and bis 
 daughter both appeared to take my change of 
 character seriously to heart. At length, her 
 frequent sighs changed to expostulations, and it 
 became a task of greater difficulty than ever to 
 keep my secret. I could only evade and baffle 
 scrutiny by putting on an air of levity and reck 
 lessness, which usually had the effect of silencing 
 the entreaties which I felt that it might be im 
 prudent to satisfy. 
 
150 HELEN HALSEY. 
 
 But my change o!f demeanor nnd profession, 
 involved me in one difficulty, extrication from 
 which was not so easy. Having given a loose on 
 one occasion, to my new principles, and very dc-. 
 liberately declared my scorn of the social contract 
 as it existed in legalized society, in the hearing 
 ot Mowbray, I was confounded by his clapping 
 me on the shoulder nnd telling mo that a fine 
 chance was now before rno for making n begin 
 ningthat Bud HulHoy had received intelligence 
 of a large sum of government money being on its 
 way from one of the land-offices, which it was his 
 design to make sure of, and, for this purpose, meant 
 to scatter his whole force, in every direction 
 along the possible route of travel. Bud Halscy 
 made his appearance suddenly, a moment after, 
 and confirmed the statement. I fancied I could 
 detect a keenness of glance, an intense and search 
 ing expression in his eye, as he listened for what 
 I should say. I did not hesitate. I professed 
 myself pleased with an occasion to try my skill, 
 concluding with the hope that the affair might bo 
 a spirited one that the guardian of the money 
 would find an occasion of fight. 
 
 " If you have the stomach for it/* said Bud 
 Halsey, " you shall be the first at the gripe. But 
 you are scarcely the man," said he, with some* 
 thing of a sneer, " for such a business. You have 
 not been long enough from your mother." 
 
 " You shall see !" I replied, though I did not ex- 
 
HELEN IIALSEY. 151 
 
 actly see the purpose of his sneer, unless it wa? to 
 goad my vanity. 
 
 The movement promised to be an important 
 one \vith me 1 What did I propose to do 1 What 
 did I promise myself by it 1 It was not until af 
 ter I was committed to the enterprise that 1 asked 
 myself this question. Then, the whole results 
 opened before my eyes. What should I aim at 
 but escape ? I should be provided with horse and 
 weapons and a sudden dash to right or left 
 would be only a natural movement such as was 
 to be expected from the events of such an expe 
 dition. On the other hand, there was the danger 
 of being suspected, and sped by an expeditious 
 bullet ; or of not being able to carry through my 
 design of escape from the lack of opportunity, arid 
 of being compelled to countenance, if not assist 
 in the contemplated robbery. The affair was no 
 child s play, and it behoved me to consider it with 
 equal calmness and resolution. I had gone too 
 far to recede. Besides, the. confinement to which 
 I was subjected had become so irksome that I was 
 willing to encounter any risk rather than continue 
 in it. As it promised to be unending otherwise, 
 I felt that the earliest movement was necessarily 
 the best. I said nothing of my design, however, 
 to my wife. I preferred that she should neither 
 hear nor suspect it, till I was off. Is it asked 
 whether I proposed to abandoo her ? Far from 
 it. 1 truly loved her, but I could not bear the 
 torment of my situation, and my purpose was to 
 
152 HRLEN HALiJCT. 
 
 I 
 
 leave a letter for her, declaring my feelings, the 
 necessity by which I was impelled, and my wish 
 that she should rejoin me at an early moment in 
 Alabama. I designated a spot where I would 
 meet her, and pacified my own doubts with the 
 conviction that once I had fairly escaped from his 
 clutches, there could be no mot ve on the part of 
 Bud Halsey, to keep his niece from a situation in 
 life, in which, while he could fear no risk, she 
 would hold an agreeable and honorable station. 
 But I did not know the man. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 MY determination was not suffered to remain a 
 secret. The day previous to our contemplated 
 foray, Bush Halsey, my wife s father, returned to 
 the cottage in no little excitement. His daughter 
 and myself were sitting beside the fire. His 
 countenance was filled with an agitation which 
 he did not endeavor to conceal ; and, after a 
 hurried glance about the premises to see that 
 there were no eaves-droppers, he addressed me, 
 in my wife s hearing, after the following manner : 
 
 "Henry, what s this that Bud Halsey tells me? 
 He says that you go forth with him, to-morrow 
 night I need not say on what sort of business." , 
 
HELEN HAL8EY. 153 
 
 " It is even so, Sir." 
 
 " Henry, dear Henry !" exclaimed Helen, ap 
 proaching me, confounded, incapable of saying 
 more, yet saying, how much, in that brief, broken 
 exclamation. 
 
 " You cannot mean it !" said the father. 
 
 "What am I to do, Sir?" I asked "remain 
 here all my life doomed a vegetable forever ?" 
 
 " Do not this, at least ! Better remain the 
 vegetable. Incur not that terrible destiny of my 
 brother, in which, though free from his crimes, I 
 must still partake. For God s sake, young man, 
 think of your parents, friends, rank in society 
 reputation! Think! think I 
 
 I need not detail the conversation. The read 
 er will perceive its tone. The agonized entreaties 
 of my wife, the earnest, pleading exhortations 
 of her father his tears no less than hers assur 
 ing nlTe of their joint sincerity left mo without 
 any good reason why I should not relieve them 
 from their sufferings, by letting them know the 
 whole truth. 1 told my story showed how I 
 had been practising upon Mowbray and his fel 
 lows and what was the particular motive of my 
 present determination. 
 
 * 4 It is perilous, but I cannot disapprove of your 
 plan. Go when you will, it will, perhaps, be in 
 evitable that you should -cur some risk. I too, 
 have been thinking of tl is flight, not for myself 
 for there is nothing to be gained by me, in 
 going once more into a gentler world,- but for 
 
61 HELEN HAL0ET. 
 
 you and Helen. Why not work together now f 
 We shall, perhaps, never have a better chance if 
 we wait a thousand years." 
 
 My wife eagerly caught at the idea. 1 was 
 not less pleased with it myself, but was less san 
 guine of success in an attempt at escape, burden 
 ed with a woman, under circumstances that would 
 require great promptness, and possibly involve 
 the, necessity of fighting. -But Bush Halsey met 
 all my objection!* 
 
 "I have been somewhat prepared fur nuoh n 
 movement, fur some weeks past, I saw your un- 
 happiness for a time, and readily, understood it. 
 It was then that I planned a mode of operations, 
 of which I should have spoken to you before, but 
 for the sudden change in your behavior a change 
 only to bo accounted I m, by Nuppomng that you 
 had become completely reconciled to your bonds, 
 and, which was worse, not less reconciled to the 
 loose morals by which they were governed. 
 Now that wo understand one another, wo can 
 act together, and with a better prospect of sue- 
 CCNH, Let mn tell YOU my plnn," 
 
 HUN!) Halsey had indeed taken up tho affair 
 with a degree of energy, quite unusual with him. 
 He surprised me, not less by his octivity and pro 
 gress, than by the plausiblcness of his scheme. 
 After giving mo tho details, he proceeded thuts 
 
 "Tho two plans can be made to harmonize ad 
 msrably. The boat lies on Cedar Island the 
 creek broadens at that point with a swift current, 
 
HELEN HALBEY 155 
 
 and carries us, without effort, into the main stream. 
 Once let us pass Buffalo Bend, and we are pretty 
 safe. That is the last point of land on which 
 Bud keeps a watch. The difficulty will be in 
 getting to the boat on Cedar Island. Cedar 
 Island is two miles off. The route is circuitous 
 and well watched. But the watch will be dimin 
 ished when Bud Halsey takes the road, and you 
 have, to a certain extent, disarmed suspicion. 
 Now r , this is what I propose. Bud sets off at 
 sundown you are to follow with Mowbray, 
 Hard-Riding Ross, and a couple more, who are, 
 in reality, but spies upon you. They will call 
 for you at dark. Your horse shall be in waiting 
 for you at the front door, and everything shall 
 look as if you were getting yourself in readiness 
 within. Meanwhile, you shall garb yourself in 
 my old grey overcoat. My slouch-cap will pret 
 ty well cover your brows and hair. Your height 
 is very nearly that of mine, your bulk is some 
 thing less, but we have no moon, and, even with a 
 bright starlight down upon you, the difference be~ 
 tween our persons is not so great, as to startle 
 the suspicions of any of our fellows. You shall 
 take my staff, imitate my walk, ar 3nd your 
 way down through the pine avenue, along the 
 main trace, which you can keep with tolerable 
 ease, if there be any light at ail. There will be 
 three sentries at most, whom you will meet- 
 possibly but one, and as I have been pursuing 
 this very walk for three weeks past, now giving 
 
J56 HELEN HALSEY. 
 
 I 
 
 the word, but most frequently not even accosted, 
 the probability is that you will pass securely in 
 like manner* You will find Helen already at the 
 boat She must contrive to get there by another 
 route, a full hour before you. As oon as you 
 join her, let the canoe drop with the stream, un 
 til you get to Fawn s Point she knows the place 
 there you will run into a cove, and at that 
 place, I must join you. You could scarcely get 
 along into, and down the river, unless with a 
 pilot. It is fortunate that I am a good one. 
 Meanwhile, I will keep Mowbray and his dogs 
 in play, until I think you safe on the water, and 
 then get to you as I can. He will probably send 
 or ride after Bud Halsey, to advise him of your 
 flight. He will scarcely think to impede mine. * 
 
 Much more was said, which it is not neces 
 sary to repeat. But we perfected our arrange 
 ments quite as satisfactorily as it was in the na 
 ture of circumstances to allow. Meanwhile, the 
 task of dissimulation was doubly difficult That 
 night I took supper with Mowbray, had a famous 
 rouse of it, and listened, for the tenth time, to one 
 of his most licentious stories. ** - ..^. 
 
HELEN HALSEY. 157 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 THE next day dawned upon us fair and light. 
 The "better to disarm suspicion, I spent the morn 
 ing in company with Mowbray, and in exercise 
 on horseback. I dined at the cottage. Bud 
 Halsey looking in just before my arrival, and 
 asking where I was. I met him when leaving 
 Mowbray, after our morning s ride. He gave 
 me a smile of peculiar significance, but said no 
 thing. I remembered this smile afterwards, when 
 it became a question with me whether I had ever, 
 for a single moment, succeeded in deceiving this 
 keen-sighted and suspicious outlaw. Our dinner 
 passed in silence. I had no appetiie. Helen s 
 eyes were tearful. Bush Halsey was in better 
 spirits, though his mood seldom rose above that 
 evening serene which had always marked his 
 calm, benevolent disposition. Dinner was scarce 
 ly over before Helen prepared to take her depar 
 ture. She was to seek the island by a route at 
 once unpleasant and circuitous. It was necessary 
 that we should not all be seen on the same route. 
 That which I was to take, was assigned me, as 
 the easiest to be found by one so much a stranger 
 as myself to the intricacies of the Swamp. We 
 parted with many tears, as if we were never to 
 meet again; but she was firm, though she wept 
 
163 HELEN HAL8KT. 
 
 When she was gone, the old man and myself 
 went once more through our calculations. Every 
 step we were to take was to be precisely under 
 stood by both. This done, I rode to Mowbray s. 
 1 had two objects in this visit. 1 wished, in the 
 first place, to be seen up to the latest moment 
 preceding my flight ; and I was also desirous of 
 securing the pistols with which I had been prac 
 tising. It seemed to be reasonable enough that, 
 on the eve of starting on a perilous expedition, I 
 should demand the weapons which a stubborn 
 cashier might render necessary. Nothing of 
 moment transpired during this visit. The Swamp 
 was everywhere nstir. Steeds stood here and 
 there, saddled beneath the tree, waiting the rider 
 and the word ; and there was an air of general 
 preparation over the encampment, which was 
 equally picturesque and pleasing. I got the pistols 
 without difficulty, and, hallooing to me on leav 
 ing him, Mowbray reminded me to be in readi 
 ness at dark. I did not need his warning. I was 
 very soon ready for the worst. Evening seemed 
 very slow of approach, and when twilight had 
 fallen, which it did at that season, and in that 
 situation, in an instant, I still folt that there was 
 quite too much light. But I dismissed my nerv 
 ous doubts and made ready. The old grey cloak, 
 the slouch cap, the white cotton neck handker 
 chief, were soon huddled on, and, with my pistols 
 in my bosom, and a good, stout, silver-headed 
 hickory in my grasp, I went forth, as a hale, heavy 
 
HELEN HALSEY. 150 
 
 
 
 man of fifty, with just a slight stiffness in my 
 lower limbs. Fortune favored me. I reached 
 the canoe in safety, and found poor Helen half 
 dead with apprehension. My corning filled her 
 equally with tears and strength She grasped 
 the paddle with as much der.fcrity as an Indian 
 maiden would have done, and as much grace as 
 a princess. Slight and beautiful, she was yet a 
 creature of great resolve, when the moment came 
 of great necessity. This is a striking character 
 istic of our Southern women, as known from the 
 earliest pages of our history. Delicate and fee 
 ble as it would seem in make, languid and luxuri 
 ous in disposition, they will yet, when aroused by 
 the pressure of extreme events, sudden danger, 
 and painful necessities, meet the crisis with the 
 souls of men with souls, in some respects, very 
 far superior, indeed, to those of the most heroic I , 
 men. Men struggle with the consciousness of 
 strength, but the struggles of women are under 
 taken with an opposite conviction. It is with a 
 full knowledge of their weakness that they come 
 to the encounter with those evils, to meet which 
 seems to demand the utmost exercise of strength. 
 On we went! Our paddles were scarcely 
 needed. We swept down with the current as 
 fast as we desired, probably at the rate of four 
 miles an hour. The stars gave us abundant light. 
 The silence of night was upon us how solemnly. 
 Not a whisper broke from our lips, but, shifting 
 with the stream, and only plying the paddle to 
 
160 HELEN HALSEY. 
 
 I 
 
 keep us from the banks, our little boat went on 
 ward like a spiritual thing, hardly making a 
 ripple on the bosom of the water. Thus we 
 wound, to and fro, in and out, in a progress that, 
 however rapid, did not, in half an hour, carry us 
 far from our starting place. Such was the 
 circuitouaness of the creek. At length, Heler 
 broke the silence with a whisper. Bending for 
 ward, she said : - 
 
 " Here, Henry, this is Fawn s Point, where 
 father said we must stop. The cove is on the 
 other side, where we are to wait for him." 
 
 Our paddles dipped simultaneously, and, slight 
 ly changing her direction, the canoe rounded into 
 as beautiful a little cove, as ever harbored the 
 shallop of a Choctaw princess. We run her up 
 beneath some clustering bays, and, withoutjnaking 
 fast, we waited in silence for the signal of Bush 
 Halsey. I never passed a more tedious two 
 hours in my life. More than once I proposed to 
 Helen to proceed. 
 
 " Your father is safe, * I said, * he has nothing 
 to fear. It is probable he finds it impossible to 
 reach us. We can get on without him." 
 
 She objected, insisting that, as I knew nothing 
 of the route, I must lose my way, and probably 
 fall again into the meshes of the confederacy. 
 There was reason in the objection.* To fall 
 again into their hands, after an effort to escape, 
 would have been certain death. But delay was 
 dreadfully oppressive. We were not able to con- 
 
HELEN HALSEY. 161 
 
 verse for fear of alarming some unfriendly ears. 
 We could not move about for fear of disturbing 
 some unfriendly watch, but, crouching in the dark, 
 we lay cramped up in our little dug-out, in a 
 situation of constraint and impatience that would 
 have been utterly intolerable, except that Helen 
 was lying in my arms. More than once, while 
 in this situation, we heard noises, or fancied them. 
 The bushes would stir, possibly as some wild 
 beast pushed through them, some bear or deer 
 the dried leaves would crackle as beneath the 
 crushing tread of some slow, heavy person or 
 animal ; and my keen, and, just now, suspicious 
 ears, caught up sounds that I could scarcely satis 
 fy rnyselt, or Helen, did not fall from the lips of 
 some whispering watcher. 
 
 At length we heard a distinct alarm through 
 out the Swamp. It must be remembered, though 
 we had taken so long a time in reaching it, that 
 we were then only about half a mile, by an air 
 Lne, from our little cottage settlement. A bugle 
 was thrice heard to sound, followed by the cry 
 of a dozen beagles, faintly swelling upon the 
 breeze, or struggling into echoes from every quar 
 ter. 
 
 " The alarm !" said Helen, starting from my 
 embrace. "They arc on the chase. The beagles 
 are in cry." 
 
 44 Shall I not put off now ?" I demanded. 
 
 44 No ! O no 1 We are in the dark here. Let 
 us wait" 
 
162 HELEN IIAL8EY, 
 
 The sounds died away, and half an hour more 
 elapsed, without any other alarm, except in a 
 single instance, when, it seemed to us, as if a 
 beagle gave tongue not two hundred yards from, 
 us, seemingly just on the other side of the creek. 
 At length a faint rustle was heard, not more 
 distinct than had reached us before ; and, 
 when we least expected him, Bush Halsey stole 
 through thb copse under the shadow of which we 
 lay. Pushing off as he stepped into our little 
 vessel, he whispered: 
 
 " We are pursued, closely I fear, and possibly 
 watched. 1 expected to have been overtaken! 
 Why I have not been, I know not. They were 
 ahead of me at one time, and Bud Halsey him 
 self upon the trail." 
 
 The words struck me with instant apprehen 
 sion. His own approach had been made with so 
 little noise, and I had heard quite as much before 
 his coming, that I began to be filled with sur 
 mises and misgivings. But not a word was said. 
 In another moment we were out of the cove, and 
 began to feel the full power of the current. Sud 
 denly a voice hailed us from the point of land to 
 which we were ncaring. 
 
 "Boat!" 
 
 A thunderbolt would not have more astounded 
 us, falling at our feet in the calm of a winter day. 
 
 Boat !" the cry was repeated from the very 
 .island we had left. " Pull in or we fire !" We now 
 understood the whole. The pursuers had scatter 
 ed themselves along the head lands, Having an 
 
HELEN HALSEY. 163 
 
 intimate knowledge of the route, they had reach 
 ed the several points before Bush Halsey, who 
 had been greatly delayed in his progress to join 
 us by the active interference of his brother; and 
 that brother was on our heels ! We had every 
 thing to fear. Again the summons, and the dis 
 tinct clicking of the gun-lock was significant of 
 the coolest determination. Bush Halsey reached 
 forward and pulled Helen down in the boat tow 
 ards him. I was on the forward seat. Not a 
 word was spoken, and our paddles dipped the 
 water simultaneously and with the strength of 
 sinewH braced to their utmost tension by the ne 
 cessity and danger, A voice, stern, keen, supe 
 rior struck our ears a voice that we too well 
 knew. 
 
 "Bush Halsey, be not a fool! You cannct 
 pass, and by God! if you try it we shoot. 1 
 mean it. You know me ! The treachery of rm 
 own brother is his death." 
 
 We were visible enough, not as individuals, but 
 as a whole. The boat, like some dark animal, 
 was gliding through the water. We were rapid 
 ly passing our enemies. Bush Halsey whispered 
 me: 
 
 ** But a few yards will save us. That point, 
 if we round it, will give us shelter. A stout pull, 
 now P 
 
 A shot whistled before me perhaps, meant as 
 a warning, an exhortation to provoke no farther 
 the wrath of him by whom we were threatened. 
 At the sound, Helen started up in terror, and 
 
164 HELEN HAL8J5T. 
 
 stretched her hands towards me, and, simulta 
 neously with this movement, we received a vol 
 ley. I felt a slight pricking sensation in my left 
 arm, but forgot it all, as a half-suppressed scream 
 from Helen betrayed either her apprehensions or 
 her hurt. We rounded the point at the same in 
 stant, and were thus safe for the moment from 
 our enemies. I turned to Helen, who lay, as be 
 fore, backward, in the arms of her father. 
 
 " Helen 1" I said, with a tear, which I could 
 not subdue* " Helen ! * 
 
 She answered with a moan. 
 
 " Helen !" said the father, huskily, as he listen 
 ed. " Helen, my child, you arc not hurt." 
 
 " I am, -father Henry. * 
 
 " God ! it is not cannot be true." 
 
 She sank the next instant, with limbs relaxed 
 and nerveless, down into the bottom of the boat. 
 Bush Halsey and myself turned to her at the 
 same moment. She had Bvvooned-^we sprinkled 
 h.r with water, but wo could do nothing for her 
 where we were* While wo busied ourselves 
 about her, the boat grounded. We lay on a 
 muddy ledge, which skirted an island thickry set 
 with fresh trees. 
 
 " It is well, Henry. Wo can take her ashoro 
 here. I know the place. 1 think we are safe/* 
 
 We landed in silence, the old man persisting 
 in bearing Helen on his own shoulder to the shore. 
 She had come out of her swpon, and now and 
 then she moaned, and strove to speak. 
 
HELEN IIAL8EY. 165 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 WE were very soon able to read her destiny. 
 We carried her on shore to die ! Her career of 
 youth and happiness was short indeed. The 
 shot was in her breast and fatal. We spread a 
 couch for her of leaves and bushes, beneath the 
 shelter of a close copse of evergreens, and cover 
 ed her with the grey overcoat which had dis* 
 guised me in my flight. We did not need to tell 
 her ihat we had no hope. She felt by certain 
 instincts that we should have none, 
 
 " Henry, I am dying," she said to me, as her 
 father wandered off, I know not what I said in 
 reply ; something, perhaps, which I meant to bo 
 consolatory, some one of those idle common 
 places, in which the bystander would deceive 
 others, when he cannot deceive himself, 
 
 " No !" she continued ; * I have no hope but 
 that we shall meet again. That is my hope and 
 my prayer. Oh ! my Henry, pray for it, pray 
 for me ! It is not so hard to die with such a 
 hope, but I fear, Henry, I tremble. I am not, 
 I have not been good enough to die I lored the 
 world too much I loved you too much, rr,y 
 Henry. God forgive me, but was not this the 
 punishment? It was a short-lived rapture, my 
 Henry, Oh 1 how very short P 
 
100 HELEN HALSIY. 
 
 I buried my lace in the leaves. I could not 
 speak nay, I could not weep. The fountain of 
 tears seemed utterly dry. The old man returned 
 and kneeled beside her with me. JShe was sink 
 ing into stupor, with occasional awakenings 
 awakenings of a higher and more spiritual life. 
 She spoke of things, to us, as it seemed, wildly, 
 but no doubt they had meaning for finer senses. 
 How slowly, how sadly went that night away. 
 It was a pure and gentle night blessed with 
 many stars, that kept trooping overhead in noise 
 less march, and looking down stealthily above us 
 with their strange sad eyes. There was a slight 
 breeze, that swayed the trees around us with a 
 not unpleasant and spiritual murmur ; and the 
 chafing of the creek upon the little dark beach, 
 along whose slippery edges we had struggled with 
 our precious burthen, mingled a most unseemly 
 but faint music with the strain. I remained close 
 beside her all the night, but she ceased after 
 awhile to be conscious of my presence. She had 
 sunk into a condition something like sleep. To 
 wards daylight she roused herself. 
 
 " Where are you, Henry ? I see you not. I 
 feel much better, but I do not see you. Come 
 to me." 
 
 " I am here, dear Helen.** 
 
 " Why do I not see you, then ?* 
 
 " Your hands are in mine it is my lip that is 
 pressing on your cheek." 
 
 " Something is over my eyes father, Henry 
 
11ELLX HAL9GY. 167 
 
 take the cloak from my face that I may see 
 you. I am better now !" 
 
 And so speaking she died ! I do think she was 
 better then better then, and blessed ! She was 
 certainly with God ! 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 COLDLY the day dawned upon us, and with an 
 aspect of peculiar desolation. The inanimate 
 form of Helen was stijl clasped in my close cm- 
 brace. The old man spoke. 
 
 44 We arc alone, my son ! We arc alone." 
 Oh ! how true, how touching were his words. 
 What a change had the morning brought us 
 what a change from day to night. But a few 
 hours ago, and I was all buoyancy nay, in the 
 impetuosity of my mood, in my eagerness to es 
 cape from the duresse in which I was detained, 
 had I not calmly contemplated flight, leaving it 
 to a doubtful chance whether I should ever meet 
 with her again. Now that it was very certain 
 that we were separated separated forever in 
 life, and O! how completely, I could not well 
 comprehend how life was to be sustained ! She 
 had become a part of my life; torn from me, I 
 began to realize the vague sensations of a heart 
 
168 BZ&EN HAL8EY. 
 
 from which certain vital sources of pulsation arfe 
 suddenly withdrawn. Such a chili as remains- 
 such a tremulous uncertainty of sensation. But 
 one seldom dreams long over the dead. Death 
 is among the most certain of the things of life. It 
 is no illusion. It is a terrible reality. Its touch 
 palsies, its aspect chills its stony glare rebukes, 
 and mocks, and warns. Icy lips ! I pressed them 
 but it was with the feeling of one who sought 
 for pain and mortification. Stony eyes! I gazed 
 in them, as one would ga^e within his own allot 
 ted sepulchre. The future as well as the past, 
 lay before me in the present. The unforgotten 
 past, the undeveloped future. Awful volume! * 
 my heart was too full to rpad it. I shrunk from 
 its dreary, dreamy lessons in dismay. I shrunk 
 into myself into my own littleness ; and, assured 
 of the great loss which I had just sustained, re 
 membered with a glow of shame, upon what 
 small game my previous thoughts had been set. 
 How mean and petty were the objects of my 
 eager thirst. How contracted, limited and worth 
 less tire poor things of the finite upon which I 
 had set my heart. What a precious thing is the 
 love of a pure heart, when it is lost to us forever ! 
 But what were my woes to his, that desolate 
 old father ? What are the sorrows of youth, at 
 the worst, to those of age ? Youth has so many 
 resources in youth itself. The soul is still active 
 and impetuous the blood still ready for new 
 encounters, nay, desiring them ; and every pulse 
 
HELEN BALSE7. 169 
 
 and emotion vibrates with a vitality which soon 
 provides recompense for every failure and morti 
 fication. The heart still sends forth new tendrils 
 in place of those which have been lopt a way, or 
 are withered, and it is seldom indeed that they 
 do not attach themselves to other objects, in the 
 absence of the lost, which partly, or perhaps 
 wholly, supply their deficiencies. But the heart . 
 of the old man, like the aged plant, has no such ^ 
 resources puts forth no new tendrils. Rend the 
 branches sunder the close clinging stems, and 
 the hurt penetrates to the core, and fixes there. 
 The worm follows and decay. The heart is 
 eaten out and gone, though a few fresh leaves, a 
 little coronal of green, may yet be seen upon its 
 mossy top, in sign rather of the immortal princi 
 ple of life than of the tree that lived. The sad 
 dest sight in nature is that of age tottering to the 
 grave, unsupported by the dutiful arms of youth. 
 How sterile is such a life lingering on after the 
 loss of the beloved ones looking on their tombs, 
 and until it forgets its own. I thought, even at 
 that moment, of these things, as I thought of 
 Helen s father. And yet, he looked upon the in 
 animate form with a strange and most unnatural 
 calmness. He had loved her with a love surpass 
 ing the love of woman. He had lost her, at the 
 moment when such a loss was least to be feared ; 
 and, by what a sudden stroke ! It may be he 
 was stunned that, like myself, he did not realise 
 our privation so completely as I, at least, was yet 
 8 
 
170 HELEN HAL8EY. 
 
 destined to do. But no ! his eye was filled with 
 as much intelligence as calm. Whence did he 
 derive a consolation, of which I had nothing ? I 
 have not scad before that he was a religious man 
 prayerful, truly devout. Such an assurance 
 may amuse the thoughtless. Piety in the abode 
 of outlaws ! Prayer, religion, where the hourly 
 practice is crime ! But, it was nevertheless true. 
 Bush Halsey was a weak man it was an error 
 in him to continue in the Swamp, witnessing what 
 he had not power to prevent, but his instincts 
 were just his heart w : as in the right place, and 
 he kept his hands clean from the sins in which all 
 around him, but his dear child, wallowed freely. 
 At this hour, struggling, as he did, against his 
 loss, the calm upon his face was no bad sign of 
 that within his soul. It was the calm derived 
 from resignation a calm which nothing else can 
 give j and, sitting beside the body of the beloved, 
 he at the foot, and I supporting the precious head, 
 with all its weight of drooping ringlets he con 
 versed of death its mystery- its sublimity its 
 repose, Philosophy, in its cold and questioning 
 mood, would have mocked at such discourse as 
 that in which we dwelt. It was either beyond 
 or below philosophy, for, in our belief of the 
 spiritual world, we were both children. But the 
 philosophy of the worlding will nevor bring to 
 any definite knowledge on the subject either of 
 death or life. Its beginning and ending recog 
 nizes these conditions, but nothing more. The 
 
HELEN HALSEV. 171 
 
 teaching which can influence us any farther, must 
 Fe addressed to the heart to that faith which 
 seems to me equally Horn of o ur instincts and 
 some blessed sympathetic influence which favors 
 o ur aspiration and wishes from without. I be- 
 ^teyeviif we are earnest in the call, we may evoke 
 spirits now, us in those days when angels walked 
 among men. They walk among us now, as they 
 did in the days of the patriarch : 
 
 " Good spirits are beside us night and day !" 
 
 Good spirits are beside- us. Helen, Oh ! Helen, 
 wert thou not beside us, on that day, when thy 
 freed spirit violently freed regained its first 
 iife, but hung, hovering, on suspended wing, and 
 sanctified to our souls the precious hour that fol 
 lowed ! Else, how was it that, lonely as we 
 were, there was such a flood of serenity around 
 us ! Thou wert with us, my Helen thy spirit 
 was upon the scene, and in our hearts, and the 
 skies smiled though we were sad, and we both 
 felt, that in love we were not unremembered, and 
 that if God hud ravished the blessed spirit, from 
 the frail tabernacle in which it had first found its 
 dwelling, it had not been entirely taken from the 
 world of which we were a part. We still breath 
 ed an atmosphere in which floated ever the pure 
 soul of the creature whom we loved. 
 
 " My son," $a:d the old man, " Henry ! you 
 .must leave tkis place. It is not for you a place 
 of safety. It is for her. It will be for me. But 
 
173 HELEN HAL8EY. 
 
 you will be pursubd. You must contrive your 
 flight this very day." 
 
 " What mean you, Sir ? Am I to go alone ? Do 
 you not go with me, and these precious re 
 mains shall they not go with us until we can 
 find consecrated ground? * 
 
 "All earth is consecrated ground. God has 
 made it all. The uses to which we put the earth 
 consecrates it. What place of city sepulchre is 
 more pure than this ? Tiie islet is very lovely to 
 the eye. Trees and shrubs keep it ever green. 
 The waters which bathe it on every side, keep it 
 ever pure. Birds live here and sing throughout 
 the year. Man does not vex the spot with his 
 strifes and follies. Can there be a fitter place 
 for the grave of my child, who was so pure and 
 so lovely ? No, Henry it is here that we must 
 make her grave." 
 
 We searched out a spot for the purpose. The 
 island was generally a flat, but in the centre there 
 was a slight elevation, crowned by a clump of 
 gigantic cotton-wood trees. The shade was 
 equally sweet and sepulchral. There was a 
 copse of thick vines and shrubs which partially 
 enclosejd it, and which we knew would be cover 
 ed in the spring with the honeysuckle, the jessa 
 mine, and other sweet-scented flowers. Here 
 then we brought her. Here, with the paddles of 
 our canoe, we scooped out a narrow grave, and 
 making a bed of leaves, we wrapped her in the 
 thick grey close-bodied coat of her father, and 
 
HELEN HALSET. 173 
 
 laid her down to her eternal rest. Sweet form, 
 so dear to me, shut in forever from my sight ! 
 Sweet spirit, so blessing, still hovering around 
 my own! my only prayers were my pangs. I 
 could not shovel in the earth upon her I did not 
 the old man did it all. How could I cast the 
 earth upon the white unprotected limbs, which, 
 but a few hours - ago, had embraced me with a 
 passion so tender and so true. 
 
 We sat beside the grave for hours after, but 
 with little speech from either. What was spoken 
 related to the- solemn subjects upon which the 
 old man had already spoken life and death! 
 These are the great engrossing subjects. Strange ! 
 how people strive to evade them. How the 
 shudder which follows the first thought of death, 
 makes them recoil from the second, as if it 
 were a subject which we might put by at will- 
 as if it were not, in fact, the only thing in life 
 which is inevitable. The first shudder over, the 
 thought of death is morally wholesome. We 
 should think of it daily, not only of its inevitable- 
 ness, but as of a thing, the character of which is 
 to be mainly influenced by our daily actions. 
 Could we think thus, religion were easy it were 
 the next step in the simple process of bringing 
 back the stray sheep to the Good Snepherd. 
 
174 HELEN HALS BY. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 IT was sunset. To this hour we had lingered 
 by the little hillock, which had shut in from our 
 eyes forev ( er, the thing that was so precious in 
 our sight. I had given myself up to the feeling 
 of desolation which took possession of me. I lay* 
 beside the grave, my fingers penetrated the soft 
 mould, which was soon to become enriched by 
 hers. My brow lay upon the damp earth. A 
 sort of stupor seemed to overcome me. But the 
 voice of the old man aroused me to my duties. 
 
 * Henry, my son! It is time to depart. Far 
 ther delay may endanger your safety. Come ! 
 It needs not that we should remain above the 
 grave to mourn. The sorrow of the living at 
 tends him and cannot be shut out Happy, in 
 deed, are we, did we but know it that this is 
 the case* How soon Would the feeling of our 
 griefs, did we not strive so recklessly to get rid 
 of them, bring us that perfect peace of the regen 
 erated soul, brought home to God, which we all 
 so much require. We must go, my son you 
 will not forget 1" 
 
 " Forget, my father, no ! She was too pre 
 cious for that. Never 1 Never !" 
 
 M Yet the memory of the perished dear one 
 should be a sweet, not a distressing memory. It 
 
HELEN HALSEV, . 175 
 
 should strengthen our hearts, while it subdues 
 our passions. Suffering is meant for this. We 
 should grow strong in the prosecution of those 
 duties which are set for us as tasks duties 
 whether of endurance or of performance, the 
 reward of which, when done, is life eternal in 
 communion with the beloved ones ! Fortunately 
 for me, my son, the duties before me are not of 
 long duration. I shall soon meet with my inno 
 cent child. I shall see her first !" 
 
 We took our way to the boat in silence. There 
 we found a basket which Helen had brought with 
 her, and which I had not seen before. The pro 
 vident girl had filled it with cakes, which she had 
 prepared against our journey. We had not eaten 
 all the day, for that matter, I had scarcely eaten 
 anything the day before. I had no appetite. I 
 could not partake of the cake^ of Helen nay, 
 the basket in my eyes gave me a painful feeling. 
 I thought of her thoughts, her hopes and feelings, 
 as she prepared these little necessaries! how 
 sweet would have been our feast together, glid 
 ing down, night and noon-day, along that lonely 
 river. Now ! Oh ! that now ! I pushed the 
 basket from my sight. 
 
 The old man knew the river well. We glided 
 by raft and snag and sawyer in perfect safety. 
 Night came on, and we were once more silent 
 voyagers by the dim light of the stars, those 
 ever-twiring ministers of night, those numerous 
 herds of eyes, that spread themselves out or shrink 
 
170 HELEN HAL8EY 
 
 and cover themselves within her cloudy fold, at 
 the slightest symptoms of her anger. I leaned 
 back and watched them, and wept silently be 
 neath their glance* How much is the love of the 
 young heart associated with, and awakened by, 
 those uncertain periods of time, when twilight* 
 the moon or the stars, are in the ascendant. The 
 affections do not seem to flourish in the noon-day. 
 There is something in the intense passionatencss 
 of the sun s glare, that seems to oflbnd the dtlica- 
 cy of youthful sentiment. But the fainter light, 
 the subdued beauties of evening and night, the 
 pale, insinuating charms of moon and stars, win 
 their way to the young affections, without start 
 ling, and link themselves to all their dearest emo 
 tions. Looking up to those bright, pale watchers, 
 I could not well believe that I was alone. 1 
 sometimes fancied that two of them, looking more 
 like eyes than stars, drew nigher to me; arid, at 
 such moments, the breeze, which came from the 
 Woods along the waters, seemed to whisper in the 
 Very accents of a bdovcd one. I was young, 1 
 could Htilt dream hut ihut poor old manwho 
 btill plied h .M puddle, now right and now left, with 
 a vigor of stroke that wus really wonderful ho 
 had long since ceased to dream 1 
 
 I offered to relieve him of his labor, but ho 
 would not. Indeed, as I knew nothing of the 
 river, and as our dug-out depended for its direc 
 tion upon the paddle, not upon the tiller for it 
 had none any attempt of mine would, in all 
 
HELEN HALSEY. 177 
 
 probability, during the night, have ended In mis 
 chief. Thus we went both silent both absorb 
 ed in thoughts, which, as we mutually understoo.d 
 them, called /or no utterance. Sometimes the 
 silence was broken by the howl of the wolf, the 
 scream of the eagle, or the meloncholy hooting 
 of the owl, from one or other of the shores be 
 tween which we stole, like some fairy vessel. 
 At other times we could catch a moaning sound 
 from the woods, like the far cry of one in distress, 
 which was yet only the effect of the wind, rush 
 ing in currents through unlooked-for openings of 
 cane, by which, in some places, the banks were 
 lined regions of the bear, presenting at times, 
 along the shore, a dense barrier, fully a mile in 
 depth. How melancholy sweet are thy numerous 
 voices, oh, solemn and mysterious night ! 
 
 I slept !, How long I know not, but I was 
 wakened by the boat striking against the shore. 
 I started and looked up. The old man was stand 
 ing on the land, upon which he had already drawn 
 one half of the canoe. 
 
 44 Where are we, sir T I asked. " What time 
 is it r 
 
 44 It is nearly daylight" 
 
 44 1 have slept, then ?" 
 
 44 Yes, very soundly ! You needed it, my 
 son." 
 
 44 But you, sir?" 
 
 44 Ah ! I need very little, old people need less 
 than young. The work of renovation is not so 
 
 necessary in them.* 
 
 s* 
 
178 nr.LE* HALSEY. 
 
 i 
 
 " Do you know where we are, sir ? M 
 " I think I do ; but I may have erred in my 
 calculations, as I was anxious not to go too far. 
 Wo arc, I think, about a mile above Baker s 
 Landing. There is u saw-mill somewhere about, 
 which wo shall probably HOC by daylight. I wait 
 for that, to be certain. Here begin the settle 
 ments, and here I propose to leave you." 
 
 How, sir, leave me ? Will you not go with 
 me, and live with me my father, mother, all, 
 will be glud to have you ?" 
 
 " No ! Henry, I return to the Swamp." 
 " Return ! Return to the Swamp ?" 
 " Yes 1 I have nothing now to take me into 
 the world much to keep me out of it and 
 here r 
 
 I strove vainly to shako his determination, and 
 finally ceased to attempt it. I could not but 
 think ho was right. What had he to do in the 
 world what was the world to him or he to 
 it ? His world wos in the forest, there, with his 
 child. At thnt moment, 1 half believed that my 
 world was thurc uluo. Certainly, the more I 
 thought of leaving it forever, the more difficult it 
 became to subdue my emotions, 
 
 Day at length dawned upon us. The saw-mill 
 was in sight, and a cluster of cabins running 
 down to the very brink of the stream. The old 
 man pointed them out, arid, taking from h .s breast 
 a purse of half-eagles, forced it into rny hand. I 
 did not scruple at receiving it I had no money. , 
 What I had when I came into the Swamp, had 
 
HELEN HALSEY. 179 
 
 been taken from me, and never returned, when 
 the myrmidons of Bud Halsey took me into cus 
 tody. 
 
 " With this, Henry, you can easily procure a 
 good horse at any of the settlements along the 
 river most probably at this. There, God bless 
 you, my son go go, and be happy P 
 
 We parted good old man but not without a 
 hope, and not forever 1 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 I SOON found my way to the saw-mill settle 
 ment, where I accounted for my appearance by 
 representing myself as left by a raft, having 
 wandered off from one of the landings into the 
 Swamp. The story was plausible enough, and 
 occasioned no remark. I had rather more diffi 
 culty in getting a horse than Bush Halsey had 
 imagined, and was content to take an old hack 
 at forty dollars, being, indeed, the only tolerable 
 animal to be had. I was enough of a jockey to 
 see that the creature had been once badly found 
 ered, nor was this denied by the owner. His 
 hoofs were scaled, and worn low, and he walked 
 tenderly, as if the quick was ailing. But it was 
 Hobson s choice with me, and I did not look 
 
180 HELEN HALflEY. 
 
 I 
 
 closely to his infirmities. I took for granted that 
 he was good for six days travel, and after that he 
 might be crow s meat for what 1 cared. Paying 
 for him, I found myself with eight half-eagles, 
 and some small change more than enough to 
 meet my wayside exigencies ; and, with a last 
 look upon the river whose contiguous streams 
 had been of such fatal interest to me, I dashed up 
 the narrow Indian trail which, as I was instructed, 
 would conduct mo into the main track leading 
 homeward. That day I rode forty miles, and 
 slept at the \vig\yam of a mulatto, who gave his 
 wife an Indian woman a sound drubbing in 
 my very sight, and in spite of all my expostula 
 tions. I believe the only offence on her part 
 was that she had suffered the fish to burn, which 
 his imperial highness had caught for his own, 
 and which furnished a very sorry portion of 
 my supper. She probably deserved all that 
 she got was a sulky hag, of fierce, black, 
 revengeful aspect, who, in all probability will 
 have a day of recknoing with him on this very* 
 account. My interposition saved her from a part 
 of the flogging at all events, such was his assu 
 rance to me while it was in progress ; and with 
 this I had to be satisfied. 
 
 The next day I started with the dawn, paying 
 five dollars for my night s lodging, my own, and 
 my horse s supper, I soon discovered, from the 
 lank sides of my horse, that I had paid for him 
 unnecessarily. Yet had I gone into the stable 
 
HELEN HALSEY. 181 
 
 myself, and seen counted out to him thirty good 
 ears of corn ; this too, after he had been nibbling 
 for half an hour on the blades. But the corn had 
 been withdrawn from the trough after I had re 
 tired. The poor animal was evidently suffering 
 from starvation. He bore me feebly, and with 
 tottering footsteps. At noon I stopped on the 
 edge of a field prairie, where the grass was tole 
 rably good, and continued for an hour to chew 
 the cud of sweet and bitter fancy/ while he di 
 gested more stable material. This freshened him 
 a little, and at close of day, I reached the hovel 
 of a Choctaw, who, in answer to my first enquiry, 
 replied : 
 
 " Yaow ! hab nough co n nough fodder. 
 Plenty co n plenty fodder ! Man eat hoss eat 
 plenty co n, nough co n too much co n too 
 much fodder !" 
 
 The assurances were thick and substantial, and 
 my Choctaw Boniface promised to be a landlord 
 after the most liberal fashion. He did not misre 
 present his corn crib: it was ample. He took 
 me to see it, and then conducted me to his bear- 
 pen, where he had a two-year-old Bruin of the 
 brownest complexion, taming for a pet, which he 
 was very anxious to sell me at seven dollars, to 
 carry home to my squaw. The quizzical chuckle 
 and wink of the good-natured fellow, as he named 
 the squaw, brought the tears into my eyes. He 
 evidently regarded me as a boy who had as yet 
 no thought of a wife. He had no wife, but he 
 
182 HELXN HALSEY. 
 
 fondled his bear quite as much as if it were one, 
 probably much more than he would have 
 fondled the loveliest squaw that he could have 
 found in the whole bosom of his tribe. This 
 fellow did not spare his corn in my case, but 
 gave me an ample supply of bread stuffs for 
 supper, together with some well broiled slices 
 of smokedj venison, of which his cabin had a 
 tolerable supply. He was no doubt an active 
 hunter, when sober. But the signs of whiskey- 
 worship were sufficiently apparent in his face, 
 if not in his cabin* His nose had the sign manual 
 of strong drink, in the largest carbuncles that 
 human nose ever maintained a congeries of little 
 red hillocks that half reminded me of a settlement 
 of marmozets, or prairie dogs. Unfortunately 
 for me, his liberality in the matter of corn, unlike 
 that of my mulatto host of the night before, was 
 as much shown to my horse as to myself. In 
 looking at the corn crib nnd the bear, 1 allowed 
 myself to be diverted from tho condition of the 
 animal, and the Indian improvidently gave him 
 his corn nnd fodder together. The half-starved 
 animal naturally fastened upon the corn and sur- 
 feited himself, and when, at dawn, the following 
 morning, I prepared to mount him, I found him 
 dead-foundered, and barely able to walk. Grieved 
 at the event, vexed with myself for my own neg 
 lect, I was yet compelled to push forward ; nnd, 
 paying my Choctaw his fare, which called for 
 another of my gold pieces, I set forward think- 
 
HELEN HALSEY. 183 
 
 ing it probable that, as the animal warmed with 
 walking, the stillness would diminish or disappear. 
 And so it did ; but not sufficiently to satisfy me, 
 or relieve my anxiety and impatience ; and, after 
 dragging along a* the slow pace of three miles 
 an hour, for seven hours, I concluded to abandon 
 the miserable animal, and pursue the rest of my 
 journey, or until I could procure another beast, 
 on foot. There was a slight rising of the country 
 on my left hand, which appeared covered with a 
 pretty thick growth of grass, and into this I 
 rode him. The .woods gave him a very good 
 shelter, and the grass would sustain life until he 
 might be picked up by some traveller or neigh 
 bor. At all events, I was resolved not to burden 
 myself any longer with the care of a beast whose 
 limbs could scarcely support his own frame, to 
 say nothing of mine. Asceilding the hill, 1 found 
 a beautiful hollow, where the grass, protected 
 from the sharper winds of winter, was still luxu 
 riant and tender. Here I stripped him, and, after 
 some search, having found a hollow gum of con 
 siderable size, I hid away the saddle and bridle, 
 for future use, if necessary. I had scarcely done 
 this, and set the poor creature free, before I heard 
 the tramping of horses from above. Here, then, 
 was a prospect of succor and assistance, much 
 sooner than I could have hoped for it. I hurried 
 immediately towards the road-side, from which I 
 had been removed about an hundred yards, and 
 w hen I reached the edge of the hill which looked 
 
184 HE!, EN RAL8CY* 
 
 down upon the road, from which 1 was effect 
 ually screened by a thick undergrowth by which 
 it was edged, I was about to halloo and spring 
 forward, when a sudden suggestion of prudence 
 persuaded me to stop and first reconnoitre. Ac 
 cordingly, stooping down, I crawled forward on 
 hands and knees until I reached the edge of the 
 hill, at the foot of which the road ran, and, at this 
 very moment, the travellers whom I had heard 
 drew up below. It was well that I adopted these 
 precautions, The very next moment, my ears 
 were struck by the sounds of! a voice which 
 grated harshly upon my ears, as that of my 
 worst enemy. I felt a shuddering horror through 
 my whole frame. Cautiously, I divided the 
 bushes with my hand, and looked below; and 
 there, sure enough, stood Bud Halscy, beside his 
 horse, from which he was about to lift the saddle 
 bags, His back was to me, but a glance sufficed 
 to show me that he was the man. I involuntarily 
 felt in my breast for my pistols. They were safe. 
 They were well loaded, and my nerves, d gquiet* 
 ed for an instant, were again firm, I felt that it 
 would be easy to fell the outlaw in his tracks, 
 and I half resolved but it was for an instant 
 only that I would do the deed, But I grew 
 wiser in another moment. In the intenseness of 
 my feelings in regard to this man, I had failed, 
 for the first few minutes, to see that he was not 
 alone. Beside him, dismounting while I gazed, 
 were the coi disant parson, Mo w bray, and another 
 
HELEN HALSEY. 185 
 
 man, the fellow Warner, of whom I have already 
 spoken, as one whom I remembered to have met 
 before entering the Swamp. 
 
 Here was a concatenation accordingly. What 
 was I to do? I could not doubt the intention of 
 these fellows. I could not but believe that their 
 journey was undertaken because of my flight. 
 They were in pursuit of me. That they had no 
 idea of my proximity, I soon felt certain, as they 
 prepared to water the horses and to take refresh 
 ments at the spring, which I now perceived to is 
 sue from the hill upon which I stood, the water 
 foaming below in a basin several yards in breadth. 
 I was not more than fifteen feet above them, and, 
 at one time, as they were about to seat them 
 selves, 1 might have. so tumbled & rock upon 
 them had any been convenient as to have 
 corered and crushed the three. I looked about 
 me, as the thought occurred to me, to see if ihero 
 was no such friendly fragment at hand. 
 
 But, if I had any doubt at first of the object of 
 this journey, it was soon dissipated by the dia* 
 logue that ensued between Bud Ilalsey and Mow- 
 bray, There had evidently been a good many 
 previous words between them, for they were both 
 very much irritated. The manner of Mowbray 
 was marked by sullenness, and that of Halscy 
 Was fully characteristic of his extremes! mood 
 of asperity. The first speaker whose words 
 were distinguishable, was Mowbray, though the 
 
186 HELEN HALSEY. 
 
 I 
 
 tones of Halsey s voice had reached me as he 
 drew nigh. 
 
 44 1 really never fancied myself a fool, Mr. Hal- 
 sey, and until it can be shown that I am one, to 
 blame me for my course in this business is, in 
 fact, in other words, to accuse me of treachery* 
 I see no other alternative." 
 
 "And dq you suppose, Mr. Mpwbray, that, if 
 such a suspicion entered into my head, I should 
 tamely sit here palavering with you? No! no! 
 Sir. By G d ! the stroke would have followed 
 the suspicion, as certainly and soon as the thun 
 der follows the flash. I give few words to trai 
 tors, I assure you." 
 
 Mowbray muttered something which I could 
 not make out, but the harsh accents of Halsey 
 seemed to drown his utterance . 
 
 " I am not in any complimentary mood, and 
 therefore do not call you fool either, as you seem 
 to insist that I do or should. I know that you 
 are no fool, and it is therefore that I blame you. 
 Bull wHl tell you what is the matter with you, 
 Mr. Mowbray you are a vain man, with all your 
 wisdom, and this boy has flattered your vanity, un 
 til he has bedevilled you. You have ceased to 
 watch him in listening to him. He has seen your 
 weak points, and contriving to make you look in 
 wards, you have been able to see nothing that he 
 lias been contriving without. Your vanity, sir, 
 it is your vanity, sir, that is your weakness that 
 
HELEN HALSEY. 187 
 
 makes a fool of you, if anything blinds you at 
 all events to the duties that you take in hand." 
 
 " You speak plainly, sir, at all events." 
 
 "Ay, ay, it s a trick I have, and as it s plain 
 truth that I generally speak on such occasions, 
 it s not a bad trick. I tell you, Mr. Mowbray, 
 that I have a trick of acting plainly too, upon oc 
 casion, and let me say in your ear, that, when 
 I found how completely you had suffered this 
 chap to slip through your fingers, in a trap of 
 your own making I found it almost as easy to 
 put a bullet through your ears as to speak to 
 them !" 
 
 " I should not have been more a sufferer than 
 by the course you have taken. It is not too late, 
 sir." 
 
 "Come, come, Mr. Mowbray, this will not 
 do. I must have no sulks ! You have blunder 
 ed, shockingly blundered, and I must be permit 
 ted my own way of reproaching you for it. The 
 matter is a serious one. It endangers our whole 
 business, our lives and the safety of our men. 
 Let us see that there be no more blundering. 
 This fellow cannot long escape us. He will not, 
 if you do not again suffer that d d petty weak 
 ness of yours, to blind your eyes and baffle your 
 judgment." 
 
 Mowbray was silent, with a silence that be 
 trayed dissatisfaction. The other did not seem 
 to heed it, as he went on : 
 
 * By this time every avenue is guarded 
 
188 HELEN HAL0ET. 
 
 every outlet from the Swamp. We must be 
 ahead of him ; and, if not, travelling night and 
 day for the next twenty-four hours, will make us 
 so. What sort of a horse was it that he got from 
 that old fool, Houser ? Did you think to inquire, 
 Warner ?" 
 
 " A regular break-down a poor, foundered, 
 spavined critter, not worth skinning. I know the 
 nag well enough. I reckon he s hardly got 
 through the Swamp with him yet." 
 
 "And why didn t you follow him when you 
 found out that he was so poorly mounted ?" de 
 manded the outlaw. 
 
 44 You forget, sir, I went down to the mill in the 
 boat. I had no horse, and he had a matter of 
 eight hours start of me." 
 
 " Then, be sure the fellow s ahead of us still. 
 He s the chap to push a horse from the jump, with 
 out asking how he s to hold out. He s ahead of 
 us, but can t keep so long. At all events we ll 
 push for the * Raccoon crossing, and scatter there. 
 We should have him by another sun-rise. D n 
 him ! But for that foolish brother of mine, and the 
 poor girl-^I would that her blood were not upon 
 my hands poor Helen any blood but hers ! 
 but for them, all this would have been prevented. 
 We should have had no such trouble. I should 
 never have been so weak so silly but it can be 
 mended at least, it s not too late for that 1 Thero 
 shall be no relentings now P 
 
 This was spoken rather in soliloquy* Tho 
 
HELEN HALSEY. 189 
 
 slight touch of a human nature which the outlaw 
 displayed, when speaking of his niece, brought 
 the tears into my eyes. But his expressions with 
 regard to myself in the next moment dried them, 
 and I could have pistolled him on the spot with a 
 coolness and recklessness not unlike his own. 
 
 Their meal was finished in silence. At the ab 
 rupt command of their leader, Warner gathered 
 up the fragments, and I saw them mount their 
 steeds, and set ofT upon the journey, without mov 
 ing from my position. I caught a glimpse, as they 
 were mounting, of the face of Mowbray, who was 
 the slowest in his movements of the three. I ob 
 served that it was almost purple with suppressed 
 choler. He rode after the others in silence, with 
 lips closely compressed, and with the air of a man 
 who could speak daggers, and use them too, if he 
 dared ! 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 I FELT my heart grow very chill as I reviewed 
 my situation. My path was every where beset, and 
 Bud Halsey, knowing the country as he did, and 
 being the person that he was, was not likely to 
 leave his work unfinished. The conversation of 
 my pursuers was of a kind to leave me hopeless 
 
190 . HELEN HAL8EY. 
 
 I 
 
 of any escape, except through the merest good 
 fortune, and the most unyielding firmness. On 
 the very path that I was pursuing, my arch ene 
 my, with his two subtle satellites, was him 
 self upon the watch, and yet, I could not choose 
 any other route. I knew of no other, and the 
 very fact that I knew my enemies upon this, who 
 they were and where they were, determined me 
 still to go forward as I had begun. I must take 
 my chance and meet events with whatever cour 
 age and conduct I could command. It was evi 
 dent from what they had said, and from the free 
 rein with which they dashed forward, that there 
 was some certain point ahead, at which they 
 aimed, and where they intended to await me. 
 What was that point ? Where was Raccoon cross 
 ing ? I was ignorant of every step of the route. 
 I had nothing to do but to go forward with as 
 much prudence as possible to prepare against 
 all sudden surprises to keep in the coyer of 
 the woods, where they were of a nature to 
 suffer me to do so, and to feel my ground at 
 every change of position before betraying my 
 self. In no other way could I hope to avoid the 
 encounter, for which, should it be unavoidable, 
 I must only man myself with the most desperate 
 resolution. The determination to sell my life as 
 dearly as possible, seemed to nerve me with 
 strength to proceed, arid, cutting myself a stout 
 hickory for the wayside, I started forward, with 
 spirits much lighter than seemed to be altogether 
 
HELEN HALSEY. x 101 
 
 justified by my situation. A moment s reflection 
 now served to convince me that, what I had 
 lately regarded as a crowning evil the loss of 
 my horse was, in reality, somewhat favorable 
 to my hope of escape. It enabled me to keep 
 the cover of the woods, to advance noiselessly, 
 and to conceal myself with more facility on the 
 approach of danger. Encouraged by thoughts 
 like these, and by that sort of audacity which 
 comes from one s desperation, I dashed into mo 
 tion with a sort of defiance, and, keeping along 
 the margin of the road, ready to seek the shelter 
 of the woods at the smallest alarm, I commenced 
 my pedestrian expedition with all the philosophy 
 of which I was master. 
 
 1 had always been counted a good amateur 
 walker, but walking as a duty, and in a new, 
 unopened country, following Indian foot-paths, 
 and fording streams, wading swamps, and " coon- 
 ing logs," is a very different business. The road 
 was a terribly broken one, crossed by frequent 
 ravine and rivulet, for I was not yet entirely 
 out of the Swamp country, and full of obstruc 
 tions from fallen trees, vines, briars, stumps, and 
 broken branches. But I was sustained by the 
 very difficulties of my situation. I wag stimu 
 lated by the trial of my strength r and able to get 
 forward at the rate of three miles an hour, which 
 was probably quite as much as could have bet* 
 done, in his best days, by the miserable beast 1 
 had abandoned. But, five hours at this pace 
 
HELEN IIAI.HRY. 
 
 I 
 
 soon lessened pretty equally my strength and 
 elasticity. Towards evening. I began to feel the 
 approaching gravity of the scene. The trees be 
 gan to cast a longer, denser shadow across my 
 path, and the sun glimmered faintly, sprinkling 
 the open space with a cluster of beaded gold- 
 drops, which, while they caught my glance, and 
 while I looked for them from side to side, did not 
 very much tend to enliven me. The wilderness 
 seldom has its singing birds, and I failed to hear 
 tho chirp of ono tho wholo afternoon. Once, a 
 couple of deer glided over the road from one 
 thicket to another, but sign of living thing beside, 
 I saw not ; and, as the sun disappeared, a couple 
 of screech owls commenced a snout gloomy dcath- 
 dnctt, from opposite sides of the path over which 
 1 wns to nmko my way,niul Hcomcd to accompany 
 my progress for a good half hour after. Tho moon 
 rose, however, almost with tho disappearance 
 of thfc sun, and I gave her, from tho bottom of my 
 heart, a traveller s benison, She poured a steady 
 blnjw of light, across the path, and thus enabled 
 me to avoid its pitfalls and obstructions. Having 
 no place of retreat, and with my spirits some 
 what revived by her countenance, I still pursued 
 my way, resolving to continue on until absolutely 
 worn out with fatigue. For three hours more I 
 did HO, but weariness began to wrap mo as with a 
 cloud. 1 staggered rather than walked along tho 
 path, and, to keep my eyes open, though I felt no 
 hunger, I took from my pockets ono of "the corn 
 with which I had provided myself at tho 
 
HELEN 11ALSLY. 11KJ 
 
 hovel of the Choctaw, and commenced eating 
 against time. While thus engaged, I happened 
 upon a trail which struck into the woods upon 
 my right, and seemed to lead to an opening, 
 which was partially discernable from the road 
 the moonlight falling down upon the space, in a 
 body, giving it the appearance of a placid lake. 
 My exhaustion furnished me with sufficient rea 
 sons why I should turn into this path, which I 
 did without a moment s hesitation. I followed it 
 for some hundred and fifty yards, when it forked. 
 I took one of the branches at hazard, followed it 
 some fifty yards farther, and found myself sud 
 denly in front of a rude shanty of logs, more like 
 the den of a wild animal than the dwelling of a hu 
 man being. Prudence would have counselled me 
 rather to find my night s rest in the thicket than 
 in such a hovel ; but the sight of anything in 
 the shape of human habitation, seemed to me to 
 convey the idea of security. Besides, this place 
 was evidently abandoned, and had been long 
 without a tenant. I did not plunge into it head 
 long, but exercising all the circumspection that I 
 could command, in that general dulling of the 
 faculties that had been produced by weariness 
 and cold, I examined the hut cautiously from the 
 outside, taking care to peer into it from each 
 corner, and without seeing anything to alarm 
 me. The roof, which had been originally a thin 
 thatch of pine boughs and leaves, wa^ half broken 
 in and lay upon the ground below the ends of 
 the remaining branches still hanging half wa> 
 9 
 
194 HELEN HAL0EY. 
 
 I 
 
 down and threatening a further fall. The door 
 which was made of plank, was thrown down 
 within ; and such, in short, was the generally 
 desolate air of the place, that I took possession at 
 once, taking for granted that my pursuers were 
 considerably ahead of me, and of other persons 
 I had nothing to fear. 1 was, perhaps, more 
 readily persuaded to give this preference to tho 
 hovel over tho woods, as, by thin tim<, I could 
 hear, rising at intervals from tho deep recesses , 
 of the swamp-thickets, confused sounds, not un 
 like the hoarse voices of boasts of prey preparing 
 to emerge for their nightly orgies. I could not 
 doubt that, among these, tho nlmrp bay of the 
 wolf was a frequent sound ; anil, HH it would not 
 be prudent for me to raise a fue, lest, in driving 
 the brute from my slumbers, I should only furnish 
 a conducting signal to a foe equally if not more 
 deadly I concluded to take my rest in the cabin. 
 Tho door 1 raim;d to its former position so as to 
 close entirely tho opening, fastening it iu its placy 
 by the wythes of grape- vine, which I found in 
 long coils conveniently within tho cabin. This 
 done, I looked at my inner accommodations. Tho 
 moon, shining down through one half of tho dis 
 mantled roof, enabled mo to neo and to di*pos<? 
 of tho massed pine trnsh, which had onco furnish 
 ed tho thatch above. Of this, I made a very 
 comfortable couch in the covered part of my den, 
 which was still in shadow ; and, having put my 
 pistols within convenient grasp of my hand, I 
 yielded my farther cares of the night, to the 
 
HELF.N 1IAI.3EV. 195 
 
 gracious providence, which had hitherto hid me 
 in its keeping, a brief prayer for protection, and 
 a few sad thoughts to the memory of poor Helen, 
 ah"d I was soon lost to the farther troubles of con 
 sciousness. 
 
 I slept very soundly and satisfactorily. My 
 previous excitements and fatigues had given to 
 my slumbers a rare and delightful relish, to con 
 firm the sweetness and efficacy of which, my 
 dreams were of the most soothing and grateful 
 tendency. The past experience of pang was for 
 gotten in their ministcrings. Poor Helen was 
 once more a living and loving spirit in my arms. 
 Once more I found myself roving over the wild 
 recesses of Conelachita in her company my 
 arm about her waist, and both of us as happy, and 
 as little moved by care, as if there ha4 been no 
 "Other human beings in the world around us. 
 From this happy state, I was suddenly awakened, 
 I know not how ! The moon was shining 
 directly down upon my face. I looked round as 
 if seeking Helen, becoming aware very slowly 
 of the solemn truth of my loneliness. But I soon 
 became aware of other facts in my condition. 
 The door which I had so carefully put up, as a 
 defence during my slumbers, was removed, and 
 now partly rested against the passage. I could 
 see one of its angles protruding through the space. 
 In the opening, and upon the sill, crouched a 
 form, which, at my first consciousness, seemed to 
 me to be that of a wild animal. I fancied it a 
 bear. Under the momentary impulse, I stretched 
 
190 IfELEN I1ALSEV. 
 
 ouf my hands to the spot just by my head where 
 I had placed my pistols. They were gone ! 
 and the half scornful chuckle of the intruder, as 
 he beheld my movement, at once informed me by 
 what agency, I started up into a sitting posturo 
 and confronted the stranger. 
 
 "Be quiel," said he, and I then recognized the 
 yoice of Mpwbray. " Be quiet keep your tem 
 per and your breath, and all may go well with 
 
 11 Where is Bud HalseyfV I demanded, under 
 I know not what impulse^ 
 
 " Fortunately for you, not within hearing dis 
 tance. You are lucky in one thing, that he sent 
 mo on this route, instead of taking it himself. 
 But for this your sleep had not been so gently 
 broken P. 
 
 " But how did you find mo out?" 
 
 M Iln ! ha 1 ha ! you arc ex raro person at hide- 
 and-seek* You remind me of that sagacious 
 bird tho ostrich I think it i that, when pur 
 sued by tho hunter, buries its hetul in n hollow, 
 leaving the rest of its carcass to take care of it 
 self. He s a bad scout who thinks, because he 
 can no longer see his enemy, that he himself must 
 needs remain unseen* Why did you hide in the 
 hovel at all why not in the woods ?" 
 
 **I was afraid of wolves, and did not dare to 
 light a fire/ 
 
 "But why not take a tree ?" 
 
 * I never thought of that ! I was, indeed, too 
 much tired, and too sleepy to think at all !* 
 
HELEN HALSEV. 107 
 
 44 Well, that is frank enough, but, when you 
 determined to take the cabin, you should not 
 have raised the door. That was enough to tell 
 me that somebody was within, and then you 
 slept in the moonlight ! I saw your features dis 
 tinctly saw where your pistols lay, and found 
 no difficulty in cutting through grape-vines, let 
 ting the door down quietly, and removing your 
 pistols." 
 
 This simple statement showed how obtusely I 
 had gone to work, in the stupor caused by fatigue 
 and drowsiness, in rendering myself secure. 
 
 " I guarded only against wild beasts I thought 
 you were far ahead !" 1 muttered, as if to excuse 
 my stupidity. 
 
 " You thought we were far ahead ? Why, 
 what did you know about it?" said Mowbray 
 with some surprise. I hesitated before replying. 
 
 "Why should I answer you? Do I not know 
 you to be my enemy ? What need of parley be 
 tween us ?" 
 
 I spoke this very fiercely. I was now desper 
 ate. His coolness, as I conjectured, what was 
 the feeling of confidence in my capture which 
 filled his mind. incensed me, and I felt the mo 
 mentary impulse to spring upon him where he 
 Stood. 
 
 "Be not wrothy !" he said "keep cool 1 You 
 forget, my good fellow, that you are defence 
 less !" 
 
 " Are you sure of that ?* I demanded. 
 
 He held up my own pistols as I spoke* 
 
18 HELEN HALSEY. 
 
 "What are these?" 
 
 "True, but I have this T and I drew the 
 dirk from my bosom with which Bush Halscy 
 had provided me. 
 
 He cocked both of the pistols as I answered. 
 
 " And of what avail would your dirk be, Henry 
 Meadows, against these ? I have but to draw the 
 trigger of either. I know the pistols and you 
 know my aim. But a truce to this, you do not 
 yet know me. I do not seek your life. I will 
 save it if you will suffer me As I said before, it 
 is fortunate that Bush Halsey sent me on this 
 route instead of taking it himself." 
 
 I interrupted him* 
 
 " SpmU to mi MM an liMiiPst ninp nn a man, 
 Mowbray. Do I understand yo 4 ? Can I 
 believe you ? Do you not mean to betray me 
 once more, as you did when you devised the 
 scheme for robbing the supposed agent ?" 
 
 " How know you that ?" he demanded. 
 
 In brief, I told him of the position I had kept 
 when Bud Halscy, Warner, and himself stopped 
 for dinner at the spring. How, hanging over 
 their heads, I had heard all their -conversation. 
 
 " You heard, then, the insolence of this bearded 
 tyrant ? You saw what I had to endure 1, a 
 gentleman born and bred, at the lumds of thnt 
 ruffian. You heard, you say ? you heard 1" 
 
 " Every syllable." t 
 
 " And you cannot understand why I would 
 thwart the scoundrel why I would save you ? 
 nay, why I should show you how to put a bullet 
 through his brains ? All this will I do ! Arc 
 
HELEN HALSEY. 11)9 
 
 ready to second me ? Will you play a des 
 perate game for your life V 9 
 
 " Try me ! If you speak me fairly, the thing 
 may be done. They are but two, and we are " 
 
 " Wronged and of equal number. Be it so ! 
 To prove to you that I am in earnest, here ore 
 your pistols. Sound them see that they are 
 charged. Take nothing on trust. All right ?" 
 
 " Yes !" 
 
 " jNow hear me ! You chose for your placo 
 of rest, the very region where we proposed to 
 lie in wait for you. * Raccoon Crossings has three 
 tracks, each leading to an old Indian encampment. 
 You happened to choose the one least likely to 
 have been chosen by one seeking concealment. 
 It lies almost within sight of the road, and was 
 probably the only track you happened to sec. It 
 was for this reason that Bud Halsey sent me on 
 this route. He took for granted that you would 
 be more likely to be encountered on either of the 
 others. To one of these he sent Warner, the 
 other he pursued himself. The third, and least 
 likely, under ordinary calculations, to have 
 brought you up, he assigned to me, for no better 
 reason than I can conjecture, but that he suspects 
 me. He suspects me of being privy to your 
 flight, and some singular circumstances, which I 
 need not tell you now, contributed to make his 
 suspicions natural and strong. It will probably 
 increase your confidence in my present plan, 
 when I tell you that, being under his suspicion, L 
 am probably marked out as his next victim, and 
 he only brought me with him, from the Swamp, 
 
200 HELEN 11AL3EY* 
 
 that I migjjt tye; under his own eye till the proper 
 moment of Dealing with me. A common cause 
 unites us. 1 : Are you ready V 
 
 Fof* what r " 
 
 " for *\Vhat ? Why, blood ! Death 1-,-what 
 else ? Do you fear ? Will you not %ht r 
 
 " Fear ! no ! Be not so violent ! I like harsh 
 language as little as yourself. All I wish to know 
 is what jfou design your plan. I have nc*notion 
 of striking like a blind man in the dark." 
 
 Very good ! I understand you. 1 am a little 
 irritable half mad, indeed ! I feel that I am just 
 sane enough to do mischief, as I certainly am to 
 design it. Here, then, you wait. Keep your 
 den &eep in the dark corner, while I go and 
 bring Hulsey." 
 
 * Would it not be better to go to him ?" 
 
 " No ! no ! it is better as I tell you, I will 
 bring him here. You will keep .still keep dark. 
 I will lead the woy into your den, and when lie 
 comes, be sure and make your mark upon him. 
 I will be ready to follow up the blow. Only be 
 sure to hit the right man. I am not quite pre 
 pared to be laid by the heels far from it far 
 from it yet I have an ugly notion that my time 
 is not far off. Be you sure of your man, that s 
 all. Look to your pistols have them cocked, 
 rmd in readiness* and, above all thingp, be cool 
 be firm do nothing in a hurry 1" 
 
 Having thus counselled me, he warned rnc 
 where to dispose myself, and proceeded to re 
 place my door, which he made me fasten on the 
 insido proeisrly as I had fastened it before. 
 
HELEN HALSEY. 201 
 
 "He will probably insist upon the removal of 
 the door himself, for he fancies nobody can do 
 such things half so skilfully. Should this be the 
 case, he may, and probably will, enter the cabin 
 first. In this event, you will act without waiting 
 for me, only taking care that I am not immedi 
 ately behind him. You will easily know him by 
 his superior bulk. You cannot well confound 
 us, unless you arc alarmed beyond measure, 
 which I hardly think will be the case. Be of 
 good heart you will need all of its strength in 
 half an hour." With these words, he disappeared. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 Aa all the particulars in my situation were 
 known to himself, I was content that he should 
 have the management of the affair. It is true, 
 some doubts of his good faith occasionally dis 
 turbed me, but they were soon dissipated with 
 the reflection that, had he meant me mischief, 
 nothing would have been more easy than to have 
 carried out his purpose while I slept. He had 
 disarmed me of my most effective weapons, had 
 afterwards restored them to me, and, besides, 
 the manner of the man amply denoted the sin 
 cerity of those denunciations of his principal, in 
 which he so violently dealt. Still, though resolv 
 ed to confide in him, 1 felt very reluctant to await 
 9 
 
XM - IIIJhKN !!. \KHKV. 
 
 the outlaw in the close den in which I was 
 cabined. Could I have been sure of his route in 
 approaching, I should have certainly gone forth 
 mid waylaid him, JUtt tho more I reflected, tho 
 
 IU|v ) I .-ll flit- jil lldfliee n! Iwtvllltf \\W MlMltei 1 
 
 to Movvbray. At all events, I was wcaponed I 
 I could do mischief! I could mako my enemy 
 pay dearly for his conquest, if he succeeded in ob 
 taining it, 1 wus resolved, not alone, to perish,- 
 and, above nil things, not to Duller myself -to ho 
 taken alive ! 1 hud too vivid a recollection of 
 that humiliating half-death, by the rope, which ( 
 had already undergone at the hands of this 
 butcher. 
 
 A more tedious hour than that which followed, 
 1 never passed in all my life. My head, mean 
 while, was filled with a thousand doubts, suspi 
 cions and, apprehensions but, us the more manly 
 course 1 , lifter all, is to givo no half confidence to 
 your ally, 1 yielded myself up to patience with all 
 my philosophy, To keep quiet, in the one posi 
 tion, in th guiso of sleep, was tho moat dillicnlt 
 of all I flortN, mid required tho utmost, inflexibility 
 of norvo, This was tho hist and moul urgent ne 
 cessity, since I was not to know nt what moment 
 the enemy would peer into my premises, A thou 
 sand times I fancied whispers and approaches 
 from without, The lifting of a dried leaf by the 
 wind, the straining or the sighing of a bough 
 under the same pressure these would make my 
 heart beat and jump with the liveliest anxiety. 
 But I may say, confidently, that I succeeded in 
 
lii .LE.V I1ALSKY. 203 
 
 
 
 quelling my impatience, so as to maintain a posi 
 tion of the utmost physical inflexibility. I do not 
 think, after the first three minutes succeeding the 
 departure of Mowbray, that I stirred a muscle. 
 I very \vell know that I did not move a imb. 
 Those three minutes I devoted to stirring the 
 priming in my pistols and putting them on cock 
 shrouding myself as closely as possible in the 
 darkest corner of my den, and putting myself just 
 in that position which would enable me to com 
 mand the entrance, with the best possible pros 
 pect of doing my work efficiently. 
 
 Thus prepared, I endured the hour for it was 
 fully that of interval, which followed the depar 
 ture of Mowbray, before I became conscious of 
 his return. The ears of him who watches for his 
 foe arc singularly keen and apprehensive. Miss 
 Baillie, in one of her plays, has a happy illustra 
 tion of this exquisite nicety of sense, under such 
 circumstances. I cannot say that I heard the ap 
 proach of Bud Halsey, at the very moment when 
 I yet knew that he was nigh. The instinct of 
 hatej>r love, is a nicer sense than any which we 
 c Kave in ordinary. It is an instinct a sort of spi 
 ritual sense, which, leaping the ordinary outworks 
 of nature, takes in thc-coming events long before 
 they have cast a shadow over the citadel. I knew 
 that my enemy was nigh, though I did not hear a 
 footstep not a whisper reached my ears not a 
 sound disturbed the familiar silence, yet I felt 
 that he was breathing in the same atmosphere 
 with myself. I felt my heart bound I felt my 
 
204 IIELKN HALsS .V. 
 
 pulses quicken but I was prepared for the worst ! 
 Fully ten minutes followed of the most nervous 
 anxiety* Still, not a sound not a movement ! 
 Cautious, indeed, were the approaches of the out 
 law, and though, every moment, more and more 
 impatient for action, yet the very caution of mine 
 enemy tended to the increase of my strength. At 
 length I was made conscious of a sound, and, an 
 instant after, the light of the moon glinted from the 
 blade of a knife, which I now perceived to be 
 working upon the wythcs which fastened the door. 
 A few moments sufficed to sever them on each 
 side, and I then saw that the door, which was a 
 massive one, was gently, and with case, lifted 
 from without, and lodged on the inside, resting 
 ngainst one of the posts, The figure of the pcr- 
 Bon by whom this NVUH donr, was now pnrtiully 
 apparent to me, but, as the front of the house was 
 in shadow, I could not sufficiently distinguish the 
 individual, Could I have been sure of my man, 
 nothing would have been more easy than to have 
 shut him where he stood, But I sufficed him to 
 enter, which ho did, HO cautiously, tlmt, though I 
 saw him approach, I never hoard a footfall. One 
 more step brought him into the light of the moon, 
 and then, thrusting one of my pistols forward, I 
 pulled trigger upon him, To my utter consterna 
 tion tho weapon gave no report, The flint gave 
 no fire. Before 1 could present the socond pistol, 
 1 heard an exclamation from the lips of Mowbray, 
 at the entrance a single " Ha !" in tones of mor 
 tification, and I then beheld him dart upon the out- 
 
HELES HAL3EY. 205 
 
 law, \vhile he \vas advancing upon me, and strike 
 him twice in the back. A terrible yell burst from 
 the lips of Bud Halscy, as he turned upon his as 
 sailant. 
 
 "Traitor!" he exclaimed, "it is you!" 
 
 As he turned, with this exclamation, I sprang 
 forward, clapped my remaining pistol to his head 
 and fired this time with effect. My bullet went 
 through his brain at the very moment when, grasp 
 ing Mowbray by the throat with one hand, with 
 the other he drove the bowie knife, which had 
 been destined for my bosom, through that of my 
 confederate. Halsey sunk down lifeless, in a 
 heap at my feet ; while Mowbray, with outstretch 
 ed arms, staggered backward, and leaned for a 
 moment against the unhung door, which shook 
 beneath his frame. He spoke but a few words, 
 but they belonged not to the present scene or cir 
 cumstances. 
 
 " Raise my voice, my brethren -cry aloud, 
 the time is at hand." 
 
 " Mowbray !" said I, grasping his body and en 
 deavoring to support him, as I saw that he was 
 about to fall. 
 
 " Ah !" said he, with momentary cor ciousness, 
 " I see how it is ! There s no use nc ! But tell 
 her tell her all/ His lips parted ii lurried and 
 frequent murmurs. I let him dowr ;ently upon 
 the pine straw. 
 
 " Tell her what? tell who ? name her, that I 
 may know." 
 
 " What !" he exclaimed, with a momentary re^ 
 
)\l UELUN IIALBEY, 
 
 covcry of strength, " have you not heard ? have 
 you not understood me ?" 
 
 " Not u word not a syllable P 
 
 " Great God ! then it n too Into.!" nnd the tears 
 gushed from his eyes. Still he muttered, seemed 
 anxious to make me hear, grasped my arm, and, 
 with a final cflort to lift himself, sunk away, and 
 expired in a ftu nt shriek, tho appalling Hound of 
 which I sometimes hear in my dreams, even to 
 thin hour. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII, 
 
 I NKRD not sny, that for tho moment, I wan 
 completely stunned by the rapid occurrence of 
 these events, BO equally terrible and unexpected, 
 There was my cminy at my fuot insensible- my 
 powerful enemy, slum, and without striking u 
 Htroko ut IUM doi cnco, by my inoxporionocd hand 
 -the hand which he either did or affected to 
 despise. True, I had my Justification, for I slew 
 him while ho was hot in puwut of my own life, 
 There, too, bcmdc him, lay rny confederate, the 
 uahuppv Mowbruy, whoso own wild andungov- 
 (U imblo puHsiotiH had dufruuded of all the high 
 human hopes, which good family, good education, 
 and rare intellectual endowments, might, under 
 better auspices of morality, have ensured to his 
 endeavors. The first feeling of stupor over, and 
 j sat looking upon his stiillnitig frame, und vngue 
 

 
 Ilti.E.N HAi/oLV. 2Q1 
 
 staring ryes, glistening ghastly in the moonlight, 
 with thick-coming fancies. I remembered his 
 presentiment of evil but a little hour before the 
 bewildered and only half coherent hope which he 
 expressed for life in the same moment I remem 
 bered his temporary alliance with me to me it 
 mattered not the motive by which my life had 
 been saved and I felt the tears, hot and large, 
 come crowding into my eyes. What would I 
 not have given, could I have heard those last 
 words which he could not articulate, and which 
 seemed to be charged with such weighty interest 
 to his feelings, in the last struggles of his living 
 consciousness ! Could he have lived only for re 
 pentance ! Could I have only been able to con 
 vey to the bereaved and mourning wife, the wo- 
 stricken mother, the relatives and friends, the assu 
 rance that he died in prayer, and not without a 
 hope But all was a blank in that last terrible 
 moment, over which let the mortal curtain fall 
 forever. * 
 
 I was roused from my musings by the neces 
 sity for self-preservation. There was still an 
 enemy upon my track. With the thought, I drew 
 myself out of the moonlight. I stole forth in the 
 shadows of the house, and from tree to tree 
 around it, listening for the footfalls of danger. I 
 heard none- but my own. Still, there was dan 
 ger, and it behoved me to prepare for it. I hur 
 ried back to the hovel re-possessed myself of 
 the pistol which had failed me, and which I had 
 cast to the ground when it became necessary to 
 
use tho other picked tho edges of the flint with 
 the handle of my dagger, and thus, partially 
 sure of this weapon, I proceeded to make a hur 
 ried examination of the dead bodies, in order to 
 possess myself of theirs. I found an armory* 
 Bud Halsey carried three pistols himself, and a 
 bowie knife ; while, from the belt of Mowbray, I 
 plucked two more. I secured them all, not so 
 much with 1 the thought that I should need them, 
 but simply to prevent other hands from using 
 them against me. Thus armed, I stole from the 
 hovel, and made my way in the direction of the 
 main trace from which I had departed. 
 
 I had two objects before me to find a horse, 
 and to elude or frighten Warner. In all proba 
 bility, I should be compelled to eflect the latter, 
 in order to secure the former object. Where the 
 horses were haltered, was to be ascertained. 
 Probably, they were in this man s keeping. He 
 and they were to be searched for, and at some 
 hazard. But I gave myself up confidingly to the 
 gracious providence that had carried me so far 
 through, and went forward with a free but cau 
 tious footstep. If he had heard the shot, which 
 within three miles, in the deep recesses of night, 
 he was likely to have done, in all probability 
 he would make his way towards the spot whence 
 it issued. I might then look to meet him. At all 
 events, I was to seek out the other two pathways 
 or Crossings,* whether I looked for him or the 
 horses. In the rnidst of my doubts and musings, 
 I heard the faint hootings of an owl. It was bare* 
 
I1ELEK IIALSEY. 209 
 
 
 
 ly possible that this was a signal. Certainly, 
 owls enough, of the feathered tribe, might be ex 
 pected in such a region. But I knew how much 
 the outlaws were in the habit of relying upon 
 their powers of imitation, in communicating to 
 one another, under circumstances oi* danger or 
 difficulty. One thing struck me as suspicious. 
 1 did not hear the almost immediate answer to 
 this summons, with which the mate of the owl 
 usually acknowledges the signal. I paused a 
 Biiiiicient time to admit of this, and then deter 
 mined to remain where I \vns, under the close 
 rover of a tree, at least for a little space of time. 
 Five minutes had. not elapsed, when a second 
 hooting, now more distinct, was echoed through 
 the forest. I determined to try my powers of 
 imitation also, and I sent forth a most vigorous, 
 if not equally dulcet response of 
 
 " Hoo ! Uoo ! Hoo ! hoo ! hoo !" There camo 
 a ready answer ! With the answer I retreated, 
 once more, towards the place of conflict paus 
 ing, after I had gone a certain distance, and wail 
 ing for a farther signal. I did not wait for it 
 long, and I was delighted to find that the fellow 
 seemed following the sound. I gave it him again 
 from where I stood, then retreated another space, 
 and waited his approach. Again the cry, and 
 again the answer. I now discovered that he 
 was fairly in the crossing which led to my 
 den. Here then, I took my stand, within five 
 steps of the path upon which he came, with my 
 person fully concealed in the thicket, yet with the 
 muzzle of my pistols commanding the track and 
 every thing that might come upon it. And now 
 the question occurred to me, shall I can I 
 shoot the fellow down from my ambush, or shall 
 I suffer him to go forward, then, hurrying down 
 the road which he had left, leave him to imd the 
 
210 IIKLE.V HAL8EY. 
 
 I 
 
 bodies, while I sought for the horses. But I had 
 little time for determining my course. There 
 was no choice. The fellow came on horseback ! 
 Even while I meditated the question, his horse 
 thundered down the avenue. 1 resolved on the 
 most merciful expedient, and as the steed appear 
 ed in sight, 1 gave him my bullet. The bcust 
 dashed aside against a huge tree that stood some 
 fifteen steps upon the path, then fell forwards, 
 with a tremendous concussion, to the ground. I 
 had no time to lose. I rushed forward, and as I 
 broke through the bushes, Warner cried out to 
 me : 
 
 " Captain, Mr. Mowbray it s me, Warner 
 - what have you done ? Help me ! I m half 
 crushed under the horse. I reckon he s done 
 for. He don t move !" 
 
 "Villain!" I cried, bestraddling him, as he lay 
 with one leg and thigh completely under the am* 
 mal. "Villain ! this moment is your last !" 
 
 " How ! Who s this f" he screamed ninkjpg, 
 
 ot the same time, a vain effort at resistance ; 
 
 one of his hands striving hard to find its way 
 
 into his bosom, against which my knee wai 
 
 ^trenuously pressed. 
 
 " Do not move >do not struggle I have no 
 wish to kill you, but unless you arc quiet I will 
 do so.* 
 
 " Is it you, Mr, Meadows ?" 
 
 * Ay ! you came too late." 
 
 " Who tired before ?" 
 
 I did." 
 
 "At whom?" 
 
 " Your master Bud Halsey and he lies as 
 stiff and silent as your horse." 
 
 * Grim ! you don t say so." 
 
 " It is true as gospel." 
 
 " And Mr. Mowbray ?" 
 
HELEN HALSEV. 211 
 
 " He was killed by Bud Halsey." 
 " I looked for that !" said the fellow, very cool 
 ly. " Well, Squire, if it s true what you say, I 
 reckon I must give in ! But help me out of this fix, 
 for mercy s sake I m afca.rd the leg s smashed." 
 " Not till I ve emptied your bosom of what it s 
 got in it, my good fellow. Let us sec." 
 
 He oilercd no objections to my search, and I 
 drew from his bosom and waist, with some diffi 
 culty, a pair of pistols, a bowie knife, and an ordi 
 nary couteau dc chasse, for Warner was a 
 * master of the pleasant sports of Venerie." 
 Though I searched narrowly, I found nothing 
 more, likely, to endanger my safety, and, these 
 secured, I proceeded to. give him all the help I 
 could in extricating him from the body of the 
 horse. This was no easy task, ibr the animal 
 was one of considerable size, and the roots and 
 vines where he had fallen offered many obstruc 
 tions. Besides, it appeared, from the .way in 
 which he lay, that Warner could do little for him 
 self. When at length relieved, he did not rise. 
 He strove, but could not. A moment s exami 
 nation sufficed to show that his right leg was 
 shattered. 
 
 " What am I to do ?" was the mournful excla 
 mation of the ruilian. 
 
 "I ll tell you," was my answer. "Where 
 have you left the horses of Bud Halsey and 
 Mowbray ?" 
 
 He gave me directions where I should find them, 
 and leaving him where he lay, I at once went af 
 ter them. They were soon found, and choosing 
 the best, which was a noble black of Bud Halsey, 
 I mounted him, and led the other to Warner. 
 
 " Now," said I, " there is but one way for you. 
 I will help you to mount the horse of Mowbray, 
 which is a short animal, and as you are a good ri- 
 
HELEN I1AL8LY. 
 
 dcr, you can keep on with me to the first settle 
 ment, where you can get surgical assistance, or 
 at all events, the best assistance that the neigh 
 borhood affords. What say you to that ?" 
 
 " Thank you, sir, but 1 know a better way 
 Only help me to get on the horse, sir, and then, 
 with your leave, we ll part company. It s not 
 every day that I can visit the settlements, and it 
 may* be as. much as *my neck s worth to go in 
 your company/* 
 
 " Do you think I would betray you ?" I said, 
 with loathing. 
 
 " No ! sir, oh no ! I reckon I know .you bet 
 ter, but you d find it difficult to answer" for me, 
 seeing as how I d find it impossible to answer for 
 myself; and then, again, there s no need for mo 
 to go that way for help, when I can get quite as 
 good or better in the Swamp." 
 
 14 Can you ? Arc you sure that you can reach 
 the Swamp f" 
 
 14 Oh ! very sure ; for that matter I shall find 
 help lonp before I get there." 
 ^*Bc it so," 1 answered. " You know best, 
 You have your choice* You nrc your own mas 
 ter." Ho signified his readiness to make the effort, 
 and fastening the horse of Mowbray to a sapling 
 close beside him, I throw my whole strength in 
 to the effort, and raised him erect he resting, for 
 an instant, upon his sound leg, while 1 lifted him 
 to my shoulder, and finally to the saddle, in the 
 stirrup of whjeh, planting the foot of his unbroken 
 limb, he contrived, with my assistance, to fling the 
 shattered member across. The effort was one 
 of great suffering, and at one moment I thought 
 the fellow would have fainted. But he was a 
 tough villain, and had been in such scrapes be 
 fore. 
 
 "It s not the first time," said he, with a groan ? 
 
IIELl N IIALSKY. ~13 
 
 " I ve had the same leg smashed before, and I 
 reckon it wont be the last." 
 
 " Take care," said I, " the next time, it isn t 
 your neck !" . 
 
 * Ah ! Squire," said the scoundrel, with a 
 chuckle, " it s not my neck only that s in danger !" 
 
 The reminiscence might have been i atal to him 
 an hour before ; but 1 Buffered the insolence to 
 pass unpunished. Certainly, the fellow deserved 
 to go scot-free who could be content to joke un 
 der such circumstances. I saw him fairly start 
 ed, in very tolerable strength and spirits, and be 
 came satisfied that he should thus depart, from the 
 coolness and confidence which he manifested. 
 He uttered his thanks and acknowledgments very 
 civilly, and, seeing him fairly under way, I also 
 took the saddle. Jn a few moments he was off in 
 a smart canter, while, taking the opposite direc 
 tion, 1 proceeded also nt a similar pace. Whe 
 ther he lived or died, recovered his limb, or went 
 lame through life, I cannot say. He has no far 
 ther interest in my story. For tins, almost as 
 brief a paragraph will suffice, I reached Lea- 
 sido without further adventure or interruption of 
 any moment. I stopped a night with * plain 
 Yannaker, who eyed my black with the wistful 
 eyes of one who had his doubts and curiosities. 
 But he asked no questions. Some day, Yannaker 
 shall make a story of his own. How my mo 
 ther blessed me and kissed me, and welcomed me 
 home how she looked into my face and wonder 
 ed at its sedatcness how my father pressed me 
 for a narration, which, until this moment. J have 
 shared with- none, these call for no farther de 
 velopment. But there was a cloud upon my brow 
 which neither had ever beheld there before and 
 there was an abstraction in my glance, which was 
 strangely at variance with the imperious and di 
 rect gaze with* which, before that season, I had 
 
214 HELEN IIALSEV. 
 
 met every other eye. In the brief space of two 
 months, I had counted years by moments. I had 
 crowded the events of a long life, into the limits "- 
 of a single moon. 
 
 \ 
 
 1 CONCLUSION. 
 
 SEVEN years after these events, there was a 
 general clearing out of the outlaws, from the 
 swamp retreats of Conelachita. The circum 
 stances distinguishing the movement of that popu 
 lar phrenzy, by which this great result was ef 
 fected, have already been chronicled in history 
 and illustrated by romance. Under less circum- . J 
 spect leaders, the outlaws had lost much of their 
 prudence and adroitness ; and, indeed, the condi 
 tion of the country had become less favorable to 
 their operations. Population of a more perma 
 nent and industrious, and, consequently, more 
 honest description, had been steadily pouring in, 
 and the ultimate extinction of the Indian title to 
 tne lands, was nn event, of itself, to strike a fatal 
 blow at the security of the * governrnent-against- * 
 law* in Conelachita. How the people, furious ^ 
 in consequence of the most frequent and auda- , 
 .cious murders, to say nothing of robberies, rushed t *. 
 en masse into the swamp- fastnesses, and, with ? 
 shot, and sabre-stroke, and halter, put nn end to IO 
 the dynasty of the outlnw, in that quarter, needs 8 
 only to be glimpsed at here. The affair was one 
 of immense interest to the country at large,, and 
 of a peculiarly delicate interest to me. I read 
 the accounts of the progress of the regulators, as 
 they appeared from time to time in the papers of 
 the Southwest, with an exciting and painful anx- 
 
HELEN IJAL3EV. 215 
 
 ty. The fate of the poor father of the really 
 
 jod Bush Halsey unfortunately cursed with 
 
 > bad a brother was, in particular, a matter 
 
 : >on which 1 brooded with an almost unremit 
 
 ting thought. I could not forget how dear he 
 
 as to me, not only as the father of my wife, but 
 
 n his own account. From him I had met with 
 
 lothing but what was considerate in kindness, 
 
 nd affectionate in consideration. I resolved 
 
 inally, in order to quiet rny own thoughts, to seek 
 
 out his fate to see whether he had perished with 
 
 the rest in the indiscriminate massacre which 
 
 had befallen the miserable wretches, with whom 
 
 he was, but of whom he was not ! Circumstances 
 
 wore now not so unfavorable to such a search. 
 
 The country along the route was tolerably set 
 
 tled. The rogues had generally given way to a 
 
 better r<i<+} of men. Even Plain Yannaker 
 
 <iad rr tracks, and removed with his teraphim 
 
 into ,/ wilderness. Travelling was secure. 
 
 Broad roads were opened through regions once 
 
 traversed only by the Indian foot-trail ; and, with 
 
 bitter-sweet recollections rising at every step, I 
 
 once more penetrated the well-known and onco 
 
 mysterious recesses of Conelachita. How, as I 
 
 went along, the present dilated in homily upon 
 
 the past. I flattered myself that I had grown 
 
 wiser, and this, notion reconciled me to many a 
 
 rloomy recollection. But in these 1 will not in- 
 
 Once more I found the cottage in the Swamp,. 
 in which I had wedded my poor Helen. It was 
 iu the possession of a squatter, whom I bought 
 at, taking care that my titles in the land-ofiico 
 ^hould supply any deficiencies in his. But, cro 
 this was done, taking a boat, with a single servant 
 I made my way down the stream upon which 1 
 had sped that fatal night with Helen and ho 
 
21 6 1IELEX I1ALSET. 
 
 father. I recognized, with a thrill of the keene.s< 
 emotion, the little bayou, in the scoop of whicj 
 our bark had lain, hidden by the overhanging 
 shrubs and willows, in waiting for Bush HUlse^ 
 It was there that she had rested in my arms- 
 silent, tearful, with the love within her heart, < 
 and O! how little dreaming of the sudden nnt( 
 tcrritjle fate which stood in waiting for her, but .i( 
 little mile below. 1 turned from the spot with d 
 heart too tremulous to be trusted to contempla* 
 tion. Then, as the fatal point rose in view, or 
 which, crouching with his n.^ Melons, Bud KaN 
 % sey issued the stern order, ^nd sped the murder 
 ous shot, I shuddered with horrors such as did 
 not thrill me then. Little then did .1 foresee the 
 brutal haste, the reckless resolution, .with which 
 that fierce uncfo^would carry out Ir^ihrent. I- 
 groaned from the bottom of "my heart-errand the j 
 paddle escaped rnygirasp. This incidc.^hcix^kcn- ^ 
 ed me, and I recovered myself. It Tv^nl it a j 
 long while before we reached the island. Tnere, 
 wo drew the boat ashore, and I hurried, without 
 drluy, toward the secluded spot whero the woman 
 of my heart lay buried., 1 was met by a bowed . 
 . form a diminutive, withered, white-headed old 
 man almost bent double. His hair, of the most. 
 silvery whiteness, covered his back. His beard 
 was similarly white and long. It was he ! It 
 was the father ! He knew me at a glance ; and, . 
 as if I could have but a single object, he took me 
 V- by the hand gently, and said : *" 
 
 "Come " in the sweetest accents, and led me" 
 at once to the grave of Helen ! 
 
 THE END. 
 
 CL 145 1 
 
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