Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, August 28, 1897, Page 6

a CHAPTER XXXIII. (Continued.) “J have heard the major, poor man. speak of her,” interrupted Miss Pene- Jope, suspending her weeping in the excess of her curiosity. “Little Da- hey’s mamma! how very remarkable! And so she is really in this house.” “And stands in need of refreshment, having ridden from the ferry to Lem- ingham, and from Lemingham to this place without breaking her fast,” re- peated the old man. “A distance of twenty miles each Forty miles without eating any- And our dinner has been over for three hours‘ But I will have halt a dozen chickens broiled directly! It will take no time at all!” exclaimed the little body, flying down stairs and out of the ba door to give her orders, without having more than glanced at the strange lady that so keenly excit- ed her interest. ‘The captain murmured, as he watched her disappearance : “Poor little creature! soul, after all!” The marquise arose and advanced to meet him, inquiring anxiously: “And Monsieur le Magistrate?” It is a good “Is dying, Madame! It was no time to st to him of our own affairs, -deeply they interest us! We must try the other man!” nd he, Monsieur?” “His name is Erlingford. A new -man, and from what I can gather, either for some unknown reason, un- friendly to Greville, or else, perhaps, only anxious to prove his zeal for the ration of justice by great se- Then there is little to be expected from him, Monsieur.” “In the way of mercy,but very little. After hearing what we have to com- icate, he may deem it but just to Greville upon bail. We shall rlier in our acquaintance you bade me hope against hope, Madame. I counsel you now to ‘reck your own the Scotch say.” “Monsieur?” “I mean—to follow your own maxim, and hope for the best.” The conversation had gone on slowly, and at intervals was interrupted by Miss Pinchett, who came back to con- duct Madame De Glacie to a bedcham- she might lay off her bon- net and arrange her hair before lunch- eon was served. Meantime the captain walked up and down the hall in moody silence. ‘Thus half an hour passed, at the end of which the marquise re-entered the hall, followed by Miss Pinchett, who invited the old man to accompany them to the dining room, where lunch- eon was spread. They sat down to the table, but, fatigued and exhausted as they w having ridden nearly forty miles since moraing without having broken their fast, they could not eat freely; the presence of death in the house had destroyed their appetites. When the ill-favored meal was over, the captain turned to the lady and said: “Madame, it is now much too late to call upon Mr. Erlingford. But if you are sufliciently rested and refreshed I will tak you back to the isle. After which i shall haye to return here to waten the it ont beside my old friead. And to-morrow, Madame, we vy seek Mr. Erlingford.” “Yhe lady silently bowed acquies- pcence, and arose to prepare for her de- rture. Miss Pinchett brought her her bon- met and mantle. The captain placed her in the carriage, and they drove to “the shore, where the ferry boat wait- -ed to take them to the isle. On reaching home the captain con- “signed the lady to the special attention -of Miss Powers, explaining the immi- nent ni ssity of b return to Burns- top, and set out immediately. On his arrival he was met by the clergyman who had been in attendance upon the patient. “How i “At rest. since.” The captain uttered a deep groan, and sank down into the nearest chair. Death al overwhelming to the sensitive; and the big, brave old sailor was as sensitive as a woman where his affections and friendships were concerned. “I am compelled to leave the house immediately, having several more sick calls to make to-night. There is a great deal of illness about! But I must en- treat you to remain here, and take the direction of affairs, if possible.” “Such is my intention. But the little one, the poor, desolate child, where is she?” “Miss Pinchett has taken her off to some distant part of the house, and is trying to calm her grief. I hope she will succeed. The grief of children is very transient. They cry themselves to sleep and forget everything. And now, sir, I must bid you good-night. If I can be of service to-morrow, let me know.” And so, with a bow, the clergyman went away. The captain watched by the remains of his friend that night. The next morning he made all the arrangements for the funeral, which took place on the third day. It was not until after the funeral that Captain Fuljoy took Madame De Glacie to see Mr. Erlingford. ‘Their errand was unsuccessful. The young magistrate listened po- litely to the statement of the marquise and to the arguments of the captain, which, as they have already been lain before the reader, need not be repeat- ed here. At their close, he remarked: “All these circumstances are matters for the future consideration of a jury; they cannot affect ry duty as a mag- istrate.” “But the d—l (I was going to say)— can you not see, sir, that had this evi- - dence been laid before the justices at the preliminary investigation , the charge against Col. Greville never ~could haye stood, and his committal to | he?’ inquired the old man, He died half an hour CONDEMNED a WEALTH. > A prison never have been made out?” explained the exasperated captain. “There I totally differ with you, sir; we should have committed him to pris- on to await his trial, all the same, and left it to the jury to decide upon the evidence, pro and con. This has been done, and cannot now be undone,” re- plied Mr. Erlingford, coolly. “I am aware that the wrong done to Colonel Greville cannot be wholly un- done; that it is to some extent irrepar- able; that for one thing, having been orce committed, no matter how un- justly, he will have to stand his trial; and that even you have no power to prevent it; but what I ask of you is, that in consideration of the informa tion we haye just given you, you will release Colonel Greville upon his enter- ing into recognizance for his appear- ance at court. I am willing, on my part, to give bail to the amount of an hundred thousand dollars, if necessary; and this lady, I am sure, will offer as much more,” said the captain, earnest- Ty, “Oh, yes, Monsieur le Magistrate! to my whole fortune’s worth!” “Sir and Madame, I regret to refuse you; but a prisoner committed upon the charge of murder is not a proper subject for bail. And, to be quite plain with you, no amount of money in the universe would bail him.” It was easy to see that all argument would be quite unavailing with this man. And, with a sigh of disappoint- ment from the marquise, and a grunt of disgust from the captain, the visit- ors arose and took their departure. CHAPTER XXXIV. Astrea was locked in her cabin and attended only by Venus. Venus was always let in by the captain, who care- fully locked the door upon her and re- tained the key while she remained, and let her out again himself and locked the door after she had left. Thus passed several days while the ship re- mained at anchor several miles below the city. Astrea found this suspense as terri- ble as any part of her voyage. She had firmly resolved that as soon as she should be taken on shore, she would make her real situation known to the first persons she should meet, and, through them, claim the protection of the magistrates. And thus she looked forward to the hour of her landing as that of her liberty. But many more days passed, and still she remained confined to the cabin of the ship, and still the ship contin- ued at anchor far below the city. She questioned her sable attendant— “Why do we remain so long here, Venus?” “Hi, chile, what you ax me for? How I know? Might’s as well ax de main mas’. Tell yer de cap’n nebber tell me nuffin.” “But, surely, Venus, you can form some idea?” “Hi, honey, how I gwine form ideas? I nebber went to school. I don’t know nuffin ’t all ’bout it,” persisted the girl, who was evidently in a non-committal, know-nothing humor. Astrea had known her long enough to understand this occasional caprice, as well as how to manage it. She said: “I know all you say is the truth, Venus; but I know, also, that you have deal of sh t dat, ch “Tatelligence, sense.” “Yes. honey; ole marse, Lord bless him, used to say how I was uncommon sensoricus; but if I is, 1 nebber brags *bout it. I ain’t wain; I scorns to be!” “Well, then, with all your good sense, you must have divined the captain’s motive for keeping us here?’ “But hi, honey; de cap’n’s motive ain’t divine at aH; it’s more like deb- lish: dere ain’t unffin ’t all diwine ’bout he; nor ‘ligious, nor rev’rent, nor nuffin; so how I find out what ain’t dere?” “But,” said Astrea, changing her phrvseology to suit the capacity of her interlecutor, “if you do not know why he lingers here, waat do you think?’ “Well, honey, I tell you; I spectorate how he is a-waitin’ fer de oders,” whis- pered the woma “The others! what others?” “Dere, now; dat all; de oders!” re- peated Venus, mysteriously. “But who are the others?’ persisted Astrea. “Well, den, I don’t know nuffin ’t all "bout dem.” “But what do you think, then?’ in- quired Astrea, coaxiagly. “Tell you, honey, I don’t know nuf- fin ’bout ’em; I don’t think nuffin *bout ’em, and I don’t spectorate nuffin ’bout dem dere! You see, chile, I darn’t do it; leas’ said, soores’ mended! You may see ’em yourself some day,” said Venus, more mysteriously thau before. And this, in fact. was all that could be got out of the woman. But Astrea’s suspense was nearly over. The next morning an incident oc- curred that put her in possession of some idea as to her final destination. It was about eight o’clock in the morning when Venus, as usual, came in her breakfast. She sat it down on the table, and then, going to the side of Astrea, whispered: “Somefine gwine happen, honey; cap’n gone on shore in de big boat; mate keepin’ de cabin door.” “The captain gone on shore? Go.e to the city?’ asked Astrea, who, in every incident, hoped that a step was made toward her release. “No, honey, la! we long way from de city; no, honey, he gone on shore, right straight to de cypress swamp; dat all 1 know.” Various conjectures were hazarded by Astrea, as to the captain’s errand; but none seemed satisfactory to her- self or her attendant; and at last, the slight meal being over, Venus took up the waiter and carried it away, whis- pering as she departed: “I watch, honey; I watch wid all de wen I ner I let you know all I fine out.” When Venus left the cabin, Astrea | fell into deep and distressing thought. All her hopes of escape had been based upon the event of her landing in the crowded city, and seeing people to whom she could appeal. But now, if she were landed in the wilderness! ‘, Exhasted by distracted thought, As- trea at length threw herself upon her berth, and turned her face to the little window at the back of it to catch a breath of fresh air. The little window was open, but a slight muslin curtain drawn before it concealed the occu- pant of the berth from the eyes of any person outside on the starboard side of the lower deck. While the captive lay thus she heard the splash of oars, and looking out be- tween the corners of the curtain and the side of the window, she saw a boat come up to the side of the ship, and the captain, accompanied by a strang- er, leave the boat and come on deck. They walked arm-in-arm up and down the side of the deck, conversing in a low tone. The words were, how- ever, audible to the acute ears of her who was certainly the most interested in the purport of their conversation. They seemed to be continuing a sub- ject which they had commenecd some time previous; and that subject was that of the captive, now the unseen and unsuspected listener. “Good-looking, you say?’ inquired the voice of the stranger. “Beautiful—that is, according to your idea of beauty? I do not affect these dark charmers myself! This one is of middle size, exquisitely propor- tioned; form full, but slender and sup- ple; limbs rounded, but tapering and graceful; head small and elegant; fea- tures regular; complexion clear, pale olive; hair and eyebrows raven black; eyes large, dark-blue, fringed with long, heavy black lashes. How do you like the portrait?’ asked the captain. “I would rather see the girl,” replied the stranger. “True; what is the use of my pre- senting her picture when I can present herself? But before I show her to you I must confess to you that, pearl of beauty as she is, she has one defect.” “She is sickly? If so, I will have nothing to do with her; the other one pined away and died; now I will have no more of that nonsense; so if the girl is sickly, our negotiations can proceed no further,” said the stranger, in a tone of annoyance. “She is not sickly. Her, health, her bodily health, I mean, is uncommonly strong.” “Gcod! then it is some moral defect; an inclination .to steal, or flirt, or lie; neither of which I care for, because either of them I can cure her of with a very little trouble.” “Her defect is no more a moral than a physical one; in fact, is mental.” “Ah! she is a fool; beauties fre- quently are so; for Nature, impartial in her gifts, seldom bestows any great degree of genius and beauty on the same individual. Be easy; I do not valué the girl the less for being a ninny.” “There, again, you are widely mis- taken; the girl is as remarkable for her intelligence as for her good looks.” “Well, then, what in the fiend’s name is the matter with her?” “You have heard of monomania’s? a species of mental derangement, in which the victim is insane upon only one subject?” “Certainly.” “Zora has such a malady! With a mind singularly strong and clear upon all other subjects, she is decidedly cracked on one. In a word, she imag- ines herself to be somebody else.” “A very common case in monomania! I had a wench once who imagined her- self the governor's wife. But who does your girl fancy herself to be?” “Why, Mrs. Fulke Greville, formerly Mademoiselle Astrea De Glacie, who was the belle of Washington last sea- son.” “T recollect her; I was in Washington last winter, and saw her at the thea- ter—a beautiful blonde.” “Yes; radiantly fair.” “A star! I remember her well! And remember how appropriate I thought her fantastical name, ‘Astrea.’ ” “You made her acquaintance. per- haps; you conversed with her?’ in- quired the captain, with visible uneasi- fearing, most likely, that, dis- ised as Astrea was, her manner and tone of voice might betray her to one who had known her formerly. “Not I,” replied the stranger. “1 went very little into ladies’ society, and saw the reigning belle only at the -heater, where she was pointed out to me; and afterward at the Capitol and at the President’s levee. But what could have put it into the head of your girl to fancy herself that lady?” “Oh. who knows? She _ probably heard a great deal of Mademoiselle De Glacie, especially about the time of her marriage with Colonel Greville, which was very much talked of; and at that particular crisis my girl Zora had a brain fever, and dreamed of nothing but the beautiful bride, the iCea became fixed. It will wear off in time,” answered the captain, with an air of indifference. “Oh, doubtless! And now, if you plea we will take a look at the girl. { have every confidence in your report, captain, but I never conclude a pur- chase without seeing my bargain.” “Oh, certainly; come with me, then,” answered the captain, and the voices passed out of hearing. How rapidly one can think in ex- treme peril! Astrea was appalled; but even in the midst of herconsternation decided upon her course of action. She knew that she was quite helpless; that resistance would be entirely useless. She knew that the captain and his crew were entirely ruthless. She, therefore, placed her hopes upon this would-be purchaser. She resolved to be calm under the terrible ordeal that awaited her; to be patient until she skculd leave that fatal ship and reach the land; then to make an appeal to her purchaser; to explain her real po- siticn and the diabolical arts by which she had been reduced to this degrada- tion; and to offer, in the name of her guardian, ten times the amount of the purchase money on condition of being restored to her friends. She had scarce- ly come to this conclusion, when the cabin door was opened, and Venus en- tered, threw her arms around the cap- tive and burst into tears, exclaiming: “Chile, you is done sold, or good as sold; and Marse Captain done sent me down here to fix you up and bring you on deck!” : “I know it, Venus. I have heard it bring your din-| all “But I must part wid you, and neb- ber see you again! nebber!”’ blubbered the affectionate creature, who, in the fsolated companionship of her long voyage, had become deeply attached to the captive. 3 “Poor Venus! constant partings from those to whom you have become at- tached seems to be your only earthly destiny.” “Yes, honey! Lord knows its de trufe! I’m jes’ like a tree; always be- in’ pulled up and planted some’eres else, and nebber ‘lowed to stay long enough to take root.” “Poor woman! You must look for- ward, then, to that better land in which, once planted, you will grow and | flourish forever; that land where part- 1 ings shall be no more!” said Astrea, j gently drawing the poor black head down upon her bosom. “Now, chile, I must fix your hair, and ’range your dress, and take you up, nice and pretty, else dere’ll be de berry debbil to pay wid Marse Cap'n and me arter you're gone,” said Ve- nus, lifting her head. Astrea took off her net and let her long hair fall. Venus carefully combed and dressed it, and replaced the net, and then took from a drawer a pretty dress of white brilliantine, which she begged the lady to put on. “How could a woman’s dress have possibly got here? They brought none with me, that is certain,” said Astrea, curiosity making itself felt in the midst of her dreadful strait, even as the lighter emotions sometimes pass over the surface of the deepest passions. “Hi, chile! how I know? All sorts o’ things is in dis ship. All I know, Cap’n told me to look in dis drawer, and take out dis dress and put on you,” replied Venus, carefully fastening the bodice. “Are you going to be all day making up your minds to come on deck, you girls down there?’ called the voice of the captain from the head of the stairs. “Come on, chile! come up! don’t *voke dem debbils; ’cause if you do it will be all de wus for you!” exclaimed Venus, in a nervoas tremor. They west on deck and walked on toward the stern, where the captain and the purchaser stood in conversa- tion. The purchaser was a large, stout, old man, dressed in a suit of light gray cloth, and a broad-brimmed, light- gray felt hat. His hair and whiskers were gray, his features were inflamed and bloated, his eyes blood-shot and watery, as if from the effects of habit- ual dissipation. Tne expression of his face was good-natured rather than oth- erwise. Astrea had taken all this in at one frightened glance, and then stood be- fore her would-be master with bowed head, downcast eyes and blushing cheeks, that only added grace and brillianey to her beauty. Venus stood behind, with her apron at her eyes. The seller and buyer did not hesitate to comment freely on the human com- modity before her own face. “This is the girl. Now what do you think of her?’ asked the captain. “Humph!” said the other, who, like all purchasers, would like to have de- preciated the goods, in order to get a lower price, “humph! a likely weneh enough! but she looks as sullen as the deuce! Now I rather dislike sullen woren; I consider sullenness about the worse fault of temper that I am acquainted with. And besides, this moremania of which you speak! The more I think of it the more objection- able it seems!’ said the man, who, however could not conceal his real ad- .miration of the beautiful creature be- fore him. Wis eyes roved with greedy covetousness over her graceful form. Astrea hung her head and crimsoned under their scrutiny. The eyes of the captain followed, half-laughingly, those of the purchas- er, Who pres2ntly said: “Well, name your price for this girl!” “What will you give me?’ inquired the captain. “I never set a price upon other peo- ple’s gcceds,”’ answered the purchase, who was clearly afraid of offering too much, “Hem! you had better make me an offer before I take her to New Orleans, and set her up on an auction block, where you would find many competit- ors! You know very well how sharp the competition would be for the pos- session of this girl!” said the captain, maliciously. At these dreadful words, threatening a degredation of which, even in her most despairing hours, she had never dreamed, the blushes that dyed As- trea’s cheeks faded suddenly away; she became as pale as death. Poor Venus, seeing this, and fearing that she was about to sink to the floor, put her arms around her waist and supported her. Astrea’s head sunk up- on the negro woman’s friendly bosom. She had been anxious to be taken to the city, where she might see people to whom she could explain her real social position, and make her appeal for justice; but oh! not to the shame- ful auction block! not to the degrading gaze of the public! not to the insulting competition of the licentious! The burning stake rather than that! “Don’t you see that you're frighten- ing the poor wench to death with your talk of auction blocks? These girls that are brought from Maryland have never been used to them as our wench- es are, and so have a foolish horror of them. Put your price upon your prop- erty without more dispute; it is your place to do it.” “Mr. Rumford! It was af your own particular request that I should bring you the first good-looking girl that I should happen to purchase, and sub- mit her to your private inspection be- fore offering her for sale at public auc- tion, that I am here. Now, here is your girl! Look at her and make your offer!” “Satan burn you for a sharper! a thousand dollars, then!” said Rumford, naming just half the price he was willing to give. “A thousand figs’ ends!” contemptu- ously exclaimed the captain; she is worth ten times that! Why, man, in addition to her beauty, she can sing ‘like a prima-donna and dance like a ballet-girl She can read like an elocu- tionist, and converse like a Parisian! She would turn that purgatory of an eld plantation house of yours into a perfect paradise!, A thousand dollars, indeed! She is Worth ten thousand, if a ecnt, nor will I take a farthing less than five tho d, which is just half her value! it you, being an old cus- | eran A iy, you!” concluded the was to take. + i Such is the manner in which such ne- gotiations are conducted. Of course, both buyer and seller un- derstood this, and acted accordingly. “Oh, I see that we are far from mak- ing a bargain,” said the purchaser, turning coldly away. “In that case I had better take her to New Orleans and set her up at auc- tion. Zora, my girl, you may return to your cabin,” said the captain, quietly. “Stop! be reasonable! take fifteen hundred!” exclaimed Rumford. “Venus, take Zora away,” was the captair’s only comment. “Pooh! you are mad. How much is the very least you will take for her?” “Fceur thousand five hundred dollars! not a penny less from the best friend that ever lived!” “It is madness on my part; but I will give you two thousand!” said Rum- ford. ‘ Thus, fighting every inch of the dis- tance between the price asked and the price offered, seller and buyer ap- proached each other, until at last a sum was agreed upon and the sale ef- fected to their mutual satisfaction. CHAPTER XXXV. Each had arrived at the standard price that he had fixed upon at first. Therefore satisfaction beamed upon each coutenance. The seller was delighted, because he had made an extra profit—knowing full well that the sum for which he had sold his victim was so much clear gain, in addition to that which he would receive for abducting her! And the purchaser was in raptures, knowing that, if this beautiful girl had been exposed upon the auction block at New Orleans, she would have brought at least three times the price he had paid for her. And not knowing that the last thing on earth this trader captain would have dared to do, would be to have ex- posed this free-born lady, with a tongue in her head, to a public sale in a popu- lous city square! So each had his private reasons for being extremely well pelased. And so the poor young victim of the wicked traffic received some of the benetits in the form of kind words. She still stood, encircled by the sup- porting arms, and with her head re- clining upon the gentle bosom of Ve- hus. “Well, my good girl—Zora I think they call you—look up, let me see your face again, sinee I have purchased you from this trader. Come, don’t be sul- Ten! You will not find me a hard mas- ter! Indeed, I am called a really in- dulgent one by all who know me well! Tut, tut, now! don’t be stubborn! look up!” The tone of voice was not unkind; and, wishing to conciliate this new ar- biter of her destiny, Astrea raised her head, and fixed her eyes upon those of the purchaser with a look so full of gentle dignity, profound sorrow and earnest deprecation, that the man who encountered it must have been obtuse indeed, not to have understood that it was the expression of a refined, intel- lectual and religious gentlewoman. But Barney Rumford was obtuse, very obtuse! And so he very dimly perceived the meaning of this glance. He spoke up cheeringly: “That is well! Oh, I know it must have been hard for you to leave your native region of country, and harder stil to part from friends, perhaps from parents! But cheer up! You will find a dearer friend than any one you have lost—in me, your master! Lord! a month hence! wonder who will be master and who will be’slave!” Astrea lowered her eyes and shud- dered. “Come, cheer up! your duties will be very light with me; no hard work, not even house-work; nothing to do but to please your master and give orders to the servants. Come, now, the boat is waiting. Make up your bundle and let us be off, or leave the bundle, if you like. It does not matter. In three days I will give you a better outfit than you ever had, or even ever saw in your life.” But Astrea had dropped her head once niore upon the bosom of Venus, where it continued to rest. “Ah! some favorite fellow servant. Well, I’m a generous old dog, I am! foolishly-indulgent, as the neighbors say. So, if it pains you so much to be separated, I do not mind if I buy the other one, too. Captain, are you will- ing to sell that black diamond? and, if so, how much? Mind, don’t say twice as much as you mean to take, for you perceive it is getting late, and we have no time for ‘jewing,’” said Mr. Rum- ford. Now it happened that the captain particularly desired to dispose of his sable stewardess; first, because he de- sired to supply her place with a white woman; and, secondly, because he was about to sail for England. So, after a little consideration, the captain said: “This woman is not for sale; but, to oblige an old customer, I will let you have her; and for a moderate price, too! only sixteen hundred dollars.” “Bosh! you mean eight,” said Mr. Rumford. And, as upon the first occasion, they wrangled over the price, fighting every inch of the ground until they gradually approached each other, and fixed upon an intermediate sum that proved mutu- ally agreeable. “And now, my girls, go and make up your little parcels, and when you come back try to present more agreeable faces. I have done something for your mvtual happiness; therefore, show your sense of my kindness by your cheerfulness. I hate sullen faces.” So saying, the purchaser retired with the trader, to pay the purchase money and receive the bills of sale. In these deeds Astrea was set down as the mu- latto girl Zora, and her faithful com- parion, as the negro woman Venus. Meanwhile, these two females, so widely separated by birth and social rank, so closely brought together by misfortune and sympathy, went down into the cabin to make their little pre- parations for departure. Venus, with the elasticity of her race, had already recovered her spir- its. She spoke to Astrea in a chirping tone: ‘Dere, now! what you tell me, hon- ey? Trust in de Lord! I did trust in him; and now you see what’s come of it! We ain’t to be separated! Us is swine to go together! Dat’s sumfin.” if nd | think my courage have utterl) sunk. Now, having you with me, ean in some degree keep up my spil its.” * “nrue for you, honey; ‘sides which, it is a great blessin’ to get offen de debblish ship, anyhow!” “And out of that captain’s powe”t feel it was a great relief!” “Yes, honey, and more ’sides; I how de new marster ain’t so be bad! Shows he got some feelin’, t buy me, to go ‘long 0” you! Now, I think if, de berry fust chance you get, a va + tells de new marster all abouten youre ice ‘deed do Pa yourself, he do you justi YS ga “} think so, too! for, notwithstand- ing that dissipation has so reduced him, he must have been a gentleman originally. And, Venus, if he should listen to my prayers and restore me to my friends, the first use I shall make of my liberty, good woman, would be to purchase you and set you free,” said Astrea, affectionately. “Oh, don’t, don’t, honey! don’t tall so; it do take my breaf away! make me a free woman? Dat too much, might’s well talk ob making me Queen ob Sheba at once. But if ebber you does come to your own rights, honey, and would buy me for you own ser- vant, I would serve you faithful all my days, "deed would I!” While talking Venus was also busily gathering together such articles as she required to take away with her. When she was ready, she turned to Astrea and said— “Come, chile, put on your bonnet.” “I have no bonnet here,” answered the poor young captive. “No bonnet? Dere now! Dat ‘noth- er proof how you must ’a’ been stole away! No bonnet! Ef you'd ’a’ been fotch away hones’ you’d ’a’ had a bon- net; dat sartain! Here, honey, you put dis on your head! It’s nice and clean, anyway!” said Venus, producing from her bandbox a white cambrie corded sun bonnet. It was perfectly fresh and sweet, and Astrea felt no objection to wear- ing it. She thanked the kind’ lender and put it on her head. Venus herself possessed’ many bon- nets, but never wore one except on Sundays at church. Upon all other oc- casions she preferred the coquettish bandanna turban. They went up om deck where their new purchaser awaited them. “Come, Come, hurry into the boat, my good girls! It is some distance to the landing place, where the. earriage awaits us, and we have a long ride be- fore we reach home,” he said, good- humoredly enough, as he assisted first Astrea, and then Venus to descend the ship’s side and take their seats in the boat. He then shook hands with the cap- tain and followed them, and took his- seat by their side. The captain waved a mocking adieu as the boat left the ship. The men laid to their oars and rowed rapidly up the river; keeping near the west bnnk. Yet it was an hour before*they ar- rived at the landing place, a mere small pier and a wood-cutter’s cabin, where the steamboats sometimes land- ed to take on wood. Here they went on shore, and while the boat that brought them sped back to the ship, they walked to a spot where a plaim traveling carriage stood under the shade of a large express tree, and in charge of a negro coachmin. By the order of the master, the tye women entered the carriage and Seat \ themselves side by side om the font seat. He followed them in and sat alone in TIordly ease upon the back seat, facing them. And so the carriage drove off. Their way lay over a ra roy road, through an exten mp, where the trees seemed ta, grow taller and closer together ever® mile they traveled inland. Astrea leaned her head from the win- dow for two reasons; the first was to avoid meeting the embarrassing glances of her new purchaser, who sat with his red hands upon his fat knees, staring in stupid delight upon his new treasure; and the other was to gaze at the stately cypress trees, that she now saw in their native luxuriance for the first time. Venus, with the sensual indolence of her race, settled herself upon the soft, elastic eushions, to enjoy at her ease the motion of the carriage—forgetful of the past, indifferent to the future. Mr. Rumford remained taking his comfort in the way we have described, until at Iength his stupidity sunk into lethargy—his lethargy into torpor, he nodded, settled himself into his corner, closed his eyes and went to sleep. The carriage passed on and out of the cypress swamp and into a more open and elevated country. Venus, who was almost asleep, was roused up by a sudden jolt, which, however, did not awaken her heavily- sleeping master. She yawned and stretched her neck, and looked out of the window to see where they were. Then she sudden jerked in her head, and, with orks larger than they were before, ex- claimed: “Hi, chile, how dis?” “What?’ inquired Astrea, rousing herself from her painful reverie. “How we come back here *gain?” “I don’t know what you mean!” “Wh, dis yer is old Ben Lomond, as I tell you ’bou.!” . “Ben Lomond is in Scotland,” said Astrea, absently. “Yes, chile, 1 know he is; dat is ef he’s livin’! which it ain’t likely, as it has been so many years since ole mar- ster grandfather—which he was a Scotchman himself—named dis yer place arter him; which I think it down- right sacrediligous to name a dumb house house and land after a baptize’ Christian! I don’t hold ‘olong 0’ no sich, as I telled you afore. An’ dis yer is de berry ole plantashum house it- self! as I neber spectorated 49 see again as long as ebber I lib! how I should be fotch back isomore’n I can tell! It’s dream!” Aninenlook se out; but cor among the gently-swelling green wooded yale, foliage of which glea $a little ‘ the thick and -tbere, glimpses of the whit walls of a country’ house, “And is that the house were born and brought up‘ Astrea, kindly interested concerned her humble <= Do Be Co { iano , ‘