Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, September 4, 1897, Page 6

$, CONDEMNED ee --TO-- : WEALTH. CHAPTER XXXIV. (Continued.) “Yes, honey! de berry house, sure as ~you lib to see it, where I wur born, and my ole marse afore me. And where ole marse lib so free, carryin’ on o’ his hi-jim-be-lung, entertainin’ of dis, and lendin’ money to dat, and ’dorsin notes for t’other till down comes deaf on to him, and down comes de bailiffs.on de “state! and ebery single thing sold up! house, and land, and niggers; and ole mist’ess and de young ladies turned out o” doors!” Here the affectionate creature stop- yped to wipe her eyes. “What was the name of your old master, Venus?’ inquired Astrea, by ~way of diverting her thoughts from the household wreck. “M’Gregor, honey; good old Scotch mame, dey do Say, dough some. folks will have it as how dey is distantly re- lated to one Robber Roy; which I'll nebber beliebe it any way; ‘cause a *spectable family like our’n could neb- ‘ber hab no robbers into it. But what ‘puzzles me, how I coming back to de -ole plantashum house!” said Venus, re- curring to the first mystery. “But how do you know we are going -there? We may be going farther.” “Hi, chile! how we gwine furder when we dun turn inter de road as lead right trough de plantashum up to -de house and no furder? But what I ~want to know, how it is I come dere again?’ she persisted, pertinaciously returning to the question. “You say the old plantation house was sold after your old master’s death! Perhaps this new master has become the purchaser, and is taking you home,” suggested Astrea. “Dere! dat it! now see what it is to have a good headpiece! Now, why eouldn’t I think o’ dat?’ exclaimed Venus, in surprise at what she consid- ered the quick wit of the young lady. The carriage rolled on, took a sud- den turn into a circular shaded avenue, and drove up to the front entrance of the house. Rumford, who had slept soundly through all the jolting of the carriage, -was awakened by its sudden stopping. He yawned, stretched his limbs, rub- -bed his eyes, looked out and said: “Here we are at home!” + CHAPTER XXXVI. In a beautiful grove of tulip poplars ‘and imperial catalpas, stood the plant- ation house. It was a long, low brick building, covered with white stucco and susrrounded by a piazza. Come, my girls, get out,” said Rum- ford, as he slowly descended from the carriage and walked up to the front door and knocked. “Come, honey, make de bes’ of it; come out, an’ don’t ’voke him,” said Venus, taking Astrea’s hand and help- ing her to alight. They stood behind Rumford while he thundered at the ‘door, which was at length opened by a negro woman, very large, black, fat doorway. “Well, Cybele, you were slow enough coming; really, if you do not move quicker, shall send you into the fields to find out whether Steppins cannot stimulate you to greater exertions,” said the master. “Better send me to de ’firmary; I‘se fitter for dat. Bofe me and Brudder Sat’un ought to a-been superambulat- ed long ago,” mumbled the mountain. “Oh, yes, you and Saturn would per- suade me as old as your namesakes, the grandmother and grandfather of ali the gods. But come; here are two companions for you. The yellow girl 4s called Zora, and she is to be the thousekeeper. The black one is named “Venus, and she is to be an extra house- smaid. Now show them where they are to lodge, and give them some supper,” said the master, passing into the house, and leaving his new purchases to the care of his cook. * “Am I to put Zora inter de—de—” “Yes, you fool!” snapped Rumford, as he d ppeared, 4 here’s anotder! Oh, my good lor’, de sin in dis worl’! I wonder dat ole man nebber takes a ’sideration on to his latter en’!’ muttered the old wo- man, shaking her head with dreacful significance. ~ ‘Then, rousing herself, she said: “Well, come along o’ me, chillun! An’ you's a-comin’ inter a wicked, sinful, mis’able house as eber w: dat T tell ou; an’ I don’t care who hears me say it; I leave tell ole marse so hisse’f to his face; ‘cause de ’cordin’ angel read it all cut to him some day, anyway!” she concluded, as she led the way into the Zouse. -ming through the center of the house, They entered a broad passage run- ~walked down its whole length, passed out of the ba door and straight aercss the back yard to a brick build- ing in which was situated the kitchen, pantry and laund The kitchen was the central room. “They entered it. It was a spacious apartment, with a ool brick flcor and many pine shely and tables ranged sareund the walls. Opposite the door was a large fire-place, at one corner of which sat an old negro man, who emight have beén Cybele himself in a shirt and trowsers. This was Cybele’s twin brother, Sat- urn. Cybele led her new companions up to the glare of the fire, and introduced : them’ in formal style. “Ladies, my Brudder Sat’'un, Brud- der Sat’un, dis is Miss Zora and Miss Wenus.” ‘The grandfather of the gods arose to make a formal bow worthy of himself and the ladies; but suddenly, startled from his propriety exclaimec “Wy, ’owan, dis ou How do, Went: “He, he, he, I gwine see whedder woman. “How de debbil you think anybody know you in de dusk, an’ you wid your head tuck down in yer-bosom, an’ me thinkin’ you thousand miles away?’ said Cybele, in a vexed tone. _ “Marse Rumford tole you I was xmame Wepus,” tittered the girl. own Wenus!” you-dem would know me,” tittered the | > 4 “Yes; but dere’s so many Wenuses ‘round! How I know it you?’ grum- bled the cook. “Trufe is, ole ’oman you’s a-gettin’ oler an’ oler ebery day! You’ eyes is a-failin’!” grinned Saturn. “No oler nor youse’f, sir, if it come to dat! no, nor yet so ole!’ snapped the goddess, “True, honey! I’s de olest, I ’fesses to it; half-hour olest! But now look at the ladies, a-stnin’ dere yet, wid nuffin’ *tall to sit down on! Dat’s a putty way to ‘ceive Wenus back again! An’ a puttier way still to ’ecive a strange young lady! Miss Zora, sit here; We- nus, chile, sit there,” said the progeni- tor of all the gods, placing the split- bottomed chairs in the coolest corner of the kitchen. Anxiety, at first stimulating in its effects, is afterward very prostrating. Astrea sank exhausted into one of the seats. But Venus threw down her bundle and began to help Cybele to get ready the kitchen supper. “When ole marse have his?’ she asked. “La, gal, not till ’bout ten o’clock,” answered the old woman, who was en- gaged’ in pouring boiling water from the kettle into the coffee pot. “How you come back here, Aunt Cy- bele?” “Me an’ Brudder Sat’un bought in at de sale by Marse Rumford, when he bought de house, arter you lef’. How you come youse’f?” in her turn, in- quired Cybele. “Promiscuous,” replied Venus, who thereupon, while she laid the cloth, re- lated her own adventures in the ship. During the recital she was careful not to betray Astrea’s real position in so- ciety, but spoke of her only as she ap- peared. Venus thought the story of Astrea’s identity with Mrs. Fulke Gre- ville had better be told first by the lady to the planter. When the coffee, the hoe cakes and the bacon were placed upon tbe table, and Cybele and Saturn were about to seat themselves, and only waited, in civility, for the stranger, Venus, with a delicacy not uncommon to her hum- ble race, said: “Mis Zora is too tired to sit up at the table,” and taking a cup of coffee and a plate of biscuits, she carried them, and set them upon the broad window- sill beside Astrea, and in a low voice, implored her to eat and drink. Astrea thanked her and complied. When all had finished supper, Cybele said: “Now, room.” Glad of the prospect of being alone, Astrea rose to follow her fat conductor, Venus took the responsibility of being one of the party. Zora, gal, I show ye yer CHAPTER XXXVII. They crossed the yard again and en- tered the back door of the house, and passed into a back room on the left- hand side. For the understanding of the scenes that followed, it is necessary that this room should be described. First, it had no fireplace; but direct- ly opposite the door by which they en- tered were two long windows, opening upon the end of the piazza; on the left hand, two similar windows, opening upon the back piazza; on the right hand was another door, connecting with the adjoining front room. The floor was covered with a straw mat- \ ting; the windows shaded by straw blinds; between the two end windows stood the head of the bedstead, draped with white dimity; between the two back windows stood a toilet table, sim- ilarly draped; a wash-stand stood in the corner between the two doors; straw-bottomed chairs filled up the spaces between the other furniture nlong the walls. «Dis wery pleasant room in de sum- mer season,” said Cybele, setting the candle down upon the dressing table. “It seems very insecure; it is upon open upon the piazza,” faltered As- trea, z “Yes, honey; but it safe enough from ’trusion from outsider, for dat matter; *cause, you see, ole marse he sleep in de nex’ front room, and neber has less ’an two 'volvers unnerneaf of his head, | Which everybody knows it, an’ de Vieves keep *way from prowlin’ ’roun’ here.” “I wish I could sleep somewhere else —up stairs in the attic; anywhere, so it w safe place.” “Lor’, chile, dere’s unffin’ ’tall ’cept ‘tis rats up in de attics! ’sides which, dis allers was de housekeeper’s room, an’ allers will be long as ole marse libs; ’caus» dere’s ro law here ’cept ’tis his will, an’ dat’s iron.” “Who was my. unfortunate predeces- sor here?” “What you say. honey?” “Who Was the last occupant of this room?” “Look yer’, chile’, ef yer speaks to me, speak English, an’ not Indian; ’cause I don’t know a word of it. 1 don’t know no more what you mean by “free-de-session’ nor ‘oxenpant’ dan de man in de moon.” - “Who was the last housekeeper?’ said Astrea, patiently amending her phrase- ology. A “Oh! now you talks! Lulu, honey; poor Lulu; she came here wil dis marse when he bought dis house; but when she.come, she had two bright red spots on her cheeks—brighter dan de erimscn roses; de death-fire spots, we ealls ‘em; an’ she pined away an’ died.” “Poor thing!” “Now, chile, good-night. I reckon ‘you's tired, an’ I | you's got to get up in de mornin’ to pour out ole marser’s coffee fur him. Wonder he ’scuses you from doin’ it to- night; but I reckon he thinks you tired. Come, Wenus.”” | “But cannot Venus remain with me? | Lam afraid to sleep here alone,” plead- | ed Astrea. “Honey, it’s jes’ "bout as much as my head's worf to go contrary-wise to dis marser’s orders. Wenus got to know I js; an’ den | | the sun. | and then Astrea felt the influence of sieey) long o’ me. You fasten up all your doors an’ windows, an’ you'll be safe. Dere’s de dogs outside an’ de ole marse an’ his ’volvers inside; so what you ’fraid ef? Come ‘long, Wenus,” said Cybele. % Astrea shuddered, and would have made another appeal only that the old woman had already left. Venus came back to whisper in the young captive’s ear: “Less you can fasten yourse’f in ber- ry safe, you set up all night in your clothes.” “I will do so, Venus.” “An’ put your trust in de Lord.” “It is my only hope.” “Good-night, honey.” “Good-night, good friend.” “Wenus, you gwine stop dere all night?’ called the voice of Cybele from the hall. “No, I’m a-comin’,” said the girl, hur- rying out of the room. Astrea was alone. Her first care was to examine the fastenings of her window-shutters; she found them all fast, indeed—so fast that she herself could not open them. She next went to the door commuui- eating with the adjoining front room; this she found also fast—locked on the other side. es She next tried the door leading into the passage; and to her astonishment and dismay, she discovered that, also, to be locked on the outer side. She looked around in despair for some means of securing herself against intrusion; but found none. There were no bolts to the decors, which also opened from the room, so that she could not even barricade them with the furniture. She could neither escape from the room nor secure herself with it. She was a close prisoner, at the hourly mercy of her jailer. She sat down in a chair overwhelmed with terror. But she still possessed her little pon- iard—still had the means of escape through death; and, thus far, held her fate in her own hands. Her courage rose. She took the little weapon from her bosom, and drew it from its silver case and felt the point, and found it very sharp. » “T will not use it while there is a chance of other escape; I will not use it except in extremity—such extremity as must make even suicide a duty—and then! where should I strike with the greatest certainty of instant success? It is well to think of that beforehand. The chest is too well defended; my hand might fail of reaching a vital or- gan, where failure would be eternal ruin!Where shall I strike, then? Ah, here! this is tender! this is easily ac- cessible! Only an instant’s firmness will be needed to strike a mortal blow here!” she said, placing the sharp point of the little poniard against the jugular vein of her throat. Then, without sheathing it again, she held it in her hand, so as to be ready for use at a moment’s warning, and settled herself in her chair to witch out the night. She closed her eyes and clasped her hands to watch out her evening worship. In it she prayed to be saved not only from utter ruin, but from the necessity of using the deadly weapon in her hand. She prayed to be restored in peace and innocence to her friends. ‘ She ceased. And whether sleep, like a blessing from heaven descended upon her troubled mind, and she dreamed what seemed to follow; or whether it were a vision or a reality, she herself could not have told. But gradually the room was filled with a soft bright radi- ance that, filtrating through her closed eyelids, caused her to open her eyes. And then she saw that this radiance came from a part of the wall to the right of the door leading into the pass- age. It was about the height and size and shape of a human being; and where the heart should have been, there was an intense, dazzlin glight, like a sun, that sent its rays to the outlines of the form, and through that, lighted up the whole room. The effect of that dazzling heart in the form of vapor, was like that of a brilliant gas jet in a ground glass shade. While Astrea, spell-bound, gazed in awe, but not in terror, upon this appar- ition, she noticed in the midst of the blinding light of the blazing heart, a black speck, like the spots seen upon And while she still gazed, this shape of air became condersed, its outlines grew defined, and it gradually assumed the form of a woman, young and beau- tful, but overshadowed with what seemed an infinite woe. She was ar- rayed in flowing white garments, that diffused soft light and aromatic per- fume around her; but the portion of her robe that covered her heart, was darkened by a large, foul blot, that sent forth a deadly stream of vapor, mingling with and darkening the light, and poisoning the aroma of her pres- erce. Her long, black hair was crowned with stars, but the central one was gone—apparently burned away, for its place was filled with what seemed a shapeless, charred mass. Her large, dark eyes were full of eternal sorrow. Her left hand pointed to the spot upon her garments; with her right was extended in warning toward the mortal before her. Astrea had no power to move, nor to withdraw her gaze, even when the su- pernatural visitant advanced straight toward her, and stood before her silent and motionless. For a moment the mortal and the immortal gazed into each other’s 2yes, an irresistible power, compelling her, against her will and against her ter- rors, to address the presence: “Spirit! speak! what would you have with me?” Another minute passed, and then Astrea heard a voice that did not seem to proceed from those mute and mournful lips; but rather to sound in- wardly through the depths of her own spirit. The mystic voice said: “You see the lost star from my crown—the foul blot on my robe! Till the first is restored and the second is effaced—too foul for heaven, too pure for hell—I wander homeless through the immensity of space! Would you avoid my fate? Flee from this ac- cursed house! flee from it to death!” ‘Even during the speaking of these | solenin words, the apparition slowly lowered its arm, receded to the wall, grew fainter in outline until nothing was left but the blazing heart with its black spot, and the form of air like a cloud behind it. Another moment and this, too, was | gone, the room was no longer bathed in radiance, and Astrea was alone and | transfixed with amazement. CHAPTER XXXVIII. Toward morning Astrea, uisted | by long watching, fell into a fitfui slumber, from which at first she ev- ery instant started with a shudder; at length, however, this slumber deep- ened into a sleep so profound that the captive lost all consciousness of sur- rounding objects until she was roused by a loud knocking at her docr. She sprang up in a great panic and gezed wildly around her, not recollect- ing where she was. She mast have slept for some hours, for when she had lost consciousness the room was the green bars of four pairs of Vene in perfect darkness. It was now as light as broad day streaming througn tian shutters could make it. The knocking continued, louder tbat. at first, and was now accompanied by a voice calling out: “Zora, chile! Zora, honey! wake up! My goodness gracious alive, how soun’ you do sleep, to be sure! Zora, honey! Zora, chile!” “Yes! well, who is there?’ exclaimed Astrea, rubbing her forehead and turn- ing round and round in a very con- fused memory of her situation. “It’s me, honey! me, chile! ole Aunt Cybele. Laws-a-messy on top o’ my poor ole black soul, you must a’ been a-sleepin’ like de seven sleeper! You ain’t up yet, an’ here’s breagfas’ ready, an’ ole marse -waitin’ for you to come an’ pour out his coffee.” Full memory in all its horrors now returned to the unhappy captive, and with a sigh, partly of relief that the night of terror had passed away with- out the dreadful catastrophe, and part- ly for fear of the pessible events of the day, Astrea walked towards the door to oven it. But suddenly reflecting that the “or was secured on the other side, she said: “You can come in; the door is not fastened on this side.” Cybele turned the latch and entered the room, exclaiming as soon as she saw Astrea: “Why, chile, you dressed a’ready? Dat right! I thought by you not an- swerin’ as how you was asleep. Why didn’t you answer when I call you?” “I was asleep. I sat up in my clothes and watched all night. I was afraid to go to bed, because I was locked in, and had no means of locking any one out. I fell asleep near morn- ing, and slept till you woke me. But why did you lock me in?” “Me lock you in?’ exclaimed Cybele in astonishment. “Why, chile, it would a-been as much as my wooly ole head was worf to lock you in! Dat was ole marse’s doin’s. Soon as ebber me an Wenus come out’n your room last’ night, an’ while we went to fasten de windows in de hall, ole marse he come soft out’n his room an’ turns de key ob your door an’ puts it in his pocket. Dis mornin’, soon as ebber he was dressed, he come an’ unlock it again. I seen him doin’ of it while I was a-settin’ of de table, wid dedinin’ room door open.” “Why did he do that?’ exclaimed Astrea, forgetting her position, and flushing with indignation. Now, the uncultivated negro has nat- urally the very same manner of ex- pressing inexpressible things as the eultivated French—with a significant shrug of the shoulders. Cybele drew hers up in the most exaggerated man- ner as she answered: “Laws, honey, when anybody buy perty bird an’ pay high price, dey puts it in de cage an’ fastens de door, fear of it flyin’ away—leastwise till he gets it tame, you know.” An indignant expression rose to the captive’s lips, but she prudently sup- pressed it. “An’ now, honey, do, for goodness’ sake, make haste an’ come an’ pour out ole marse’s coffee ’fore he loses his temper,” said Cybele, impatiently. Astrea bathed her face and smoothed her hair and settled the folds of her dress and gravely announced herself ready to go. “Come along, den; I show, you de dinin’ room where ole marse takes all his meals,” said Cybele, leading the | way just across the pa ge to a back room directly opposite to that of As- trea. It was furnished in simple summer style, with straw matting on the floor, straw blinds at the four windows, and straw-bottomed chairs and settees ranged about the room. There was, besides, a sideboard against the back wall between the windows. A small, round table, covered with a white dam- ask cloth that hung to the floor, and adorned with a breakfast service of burnished silver, stood in th emiddle of the room. Upon it lay plates of light biscuits and cakes, potted meats and fish, fresh fruit, and all the luxuries of asummer breakfast. There was a cov- er laid and a chair placed but for one. Astrea was expected to stand in the presence of her master. And this she much preferred to the hated intimacy implied in sitting at the table with him. Any, even the most humble position, being much higher in her view than the humiliation of such an equality with him: Cybele went out and brought in the hissing silver urn and put it on the ta- ble, and then went and summoned her master, who was walking up and down taking the morning air on the front piazza. Rumford came in, radiant and smil- ing, and looking cool and healthy in his morning suit of white holland and his broad-brimmed straw hat. He threw his hat upon a settee and drop- ped into Lis seat at the table, saying, gaily: “Well, n-y girl, over your sulks yet? You see I Kaye given you time.” Astrea bowed slowly with a grave | dignity, but without other reply. | “Iv that means yes, I’m deuced glad | tc hear it! Come, give me a cup of coffee. I like a good deal of sugar and cream in it, too,” said Rumford, turn- ing the cortents of a whole jar of pot- ted venison into his plate and helping | himself to a biscuit. Astrea vely poured out the cup of eoffee aczerding to his directions, and | placed it beside his plate. Then, as | gravely, ste restmed her stand at the | head of tke table. “Iless my soul alive, girl! you are as solemn as an owl,” said the planter, as he took up his coffee. “Mr. Rumford—-,” began Astrea, with the serious dignity that had marked | her whole manner since falling into the power of. this man; but before she could add another word, he interrupt- | ed her with the remark: R “My servants usually call me ‘Mas- ter;’ my friends orly say ‘Mr. Rum- ford; while my intimates term me ‘Barnabas.’ ” “I thank you, sir, for the informa- tion, although it does not interest me much.” “I say, girl, where did you pick y your fine lady phrases?” ‘ “1 am glad you perceive that I pos- sess them, sir. I was educated at a school for young Iadies in the Green Mountains, if it eoncerns you to know; as I think it may.” “And as I should think it did,” re- plied the man, emptying a jar of Dum- fries orange marmalade into his plate. “Mr. Rumford, I was about to ask you to give me an interview this morn- ing, that need not detain you more than twenty minutes. “You shall have it, my girl, directly after breakfast! You might have it now, only that I cannot eat and talk, or even eat and-listen with advantage, at the same time,” said the planter, handing his cup for a secoad supply of coffee, Astrea filled and returned it in si- elnce. The planter was a gourmand, and so the breakfast seemed interminable. At length, however, it was finished, and the man arose and’ touched the bell, summoning Cybele to clear away the table. Then, beckoning Astrea to follow, he opened the communicating door leading from the dining room into the adjoining front parlor, which was a pleasant apartment, furnished like the others with straw matting, straw, window blinds, and straw-bottomed chairs and settees, and adorned with pictures, statuettes, vases and books. “Now, then, my girl, what is it?” in- quired Rumford, throwing himself at ease upon a settee that stood between the two front windows. Astrea, standing before him, pon- dered a moment how best to open the subject. Rumford misunderstood her hesita- tion and said: “Some one you have left behind, f suppose, whom you wish me to pur- ehase and bring out here! Some old mother, or young sister, or little ehild, perhaps, without whom you cannot make yourself contented! Well! speak out! let us know which it is; and as I am a good-natured fellow, who knows, if you please me, but that I shall satis- fy you!” Sir, you are mistaken. _My request for an interview with you concerned none of those things which you have mentioned. What [ have to say is not only of vital importance to myself, but it may be of advantage to you!” “What is it, then, in the deuce’s name, my girl?” “Sir, it is this—that I have been greatly wronged, and you have been much deceived by the man who pre- tended to sell me to you! I should have told you upon the deck of the ship, before the nefarious sale was ef- fected, but for two reasons—in the first place, if I had ventured to speak, I should have been contradicted, brow- beaten and silenced, while you your- self might have believed the false cap- tain instead of me, or else, believing me, might have declined the purchase, and left me still in the clutches of that ruthless man, when I was most anx- ious to leave the ship. These consid- erations determined me to continue si- lent until I should be safe out of the ship, and then to speak—appealing to your sense of justice and humanity, and feeling sure, besides, that if you had suffered loss by the nefarious transaction to which my own silence seemed to make you a consenting par- ty, my friends, who are wealthy, would recompense you ten-fold.” “What in the name of sense are you driving at, my good girl? You talk like an orator; but I’m dashed if I can understand you!” said the man, with his fat eyes protruding in astonish- ment. : “Sir,” replied Astrea, with grave dignity, “I am by education, habit and positicn a lady. I am the adopted daughter of Captain William Fulljoy, of Fuljoy’s Island, and wife of Colonel Fulke Greville, of the United States army. On my bridal eve I was drugged and abducted by this buccaneer and his piratical crew. I was brought to the mouth of the } ippi river and sold to yourself—not, I fancy, for the sake of the money received from you when you believed that you were pay- ing for a mulatto girl, but for some deeper motive, of which I ean only form the vaguest conjecture. Let that pass. I have now told you who and what I am, and I have now only to add that if you will immediately write to my friends, and, while waiting for an answer from them, cause me to be treated with the consideration due to my position, my friends, when they an- swer you, which they will do by com- ing in person to fetch me, will be sure to compensate you ten-fold for any loss you have suffered on my account.” | Astrea spoke these words with a qui- et strength of faith that must have forced conviction of its truth upon the mind of Rumford, had he not been fore-armed by falsehood against its power. “So, then, this is the breaking out of the monomania against which I was: warned by Merrick,” he muttered to himself; and then, as if to draw his captive out, he said: “This is a curious story you tell m { would like to hear all its particular “I will give them to you, so far as L can remember them; for, as I said be- fore, some of these events took place while I was under the influence of some powerful drug.” “Humph! that must be when she had the brain fever,” muttered the man as before. Then he motioned for her to go on. And Astrea gave him the details of her abduction, as far as they were known to herself. “An interesting story,” said Rum- ford. “But now, my good girl, I want you to understand that, upon the sub- jeet of this fancied abduction of yours, you are very decidedly cracked.” “Sir! sir! no, I am not! The wicked eaptain has told you so to blind you against the truth! If you are really in doubt about the matter, write to my friends; a month will bring you the answer—or, rather, bring you them in person. Write, I entreat you!” “Why so I would, my girl, if I had the slightest doubt of the event; but to trouble a highly-respectable family, who are perfect strangers to me, with the crazy fancies of one of my own people, is rather preposterous, not to say insulting, to them.” “Then I will write! Indeed, I should have proposed to do so myself at first’ I will write to-day!* “Not if 1 know it! Come, Zora, you imagine yourself Mrs. Fulke Greville! Did you ever happen to see Mrs. Fulke Greville?” “Every time I have looked in the glass since my marriage, sir!” “Then if you really ever did see Mrs.- Fulke Greville, you saw a_ radiant blonde, with snowy skin, and sapphire eyes and golden hair—a cold beauty, ot ?. zs u st Pi iy must have 8 | my : my hair and eyebrows to make me seem what age! ose but pe} it me to write to eome here Nient me! My dear husband, my kind old guardian would never be de- ecived by this external discoloration of - wy hair and skin!” implored Astrea, clasping her hands and raising her eyes in impassionet supplication to the face of her purchaser. “Bosh, girl! I tell you yowre mad! you're no more Mrs. Fulke Greville than you're Mrs. Pius LX.! Absurd! When I was im Washington last win- ter 1 saw that lady in public places yery ofter. If ever two females cog the perfect antipodes of each other? ou. personal appearance, they were Like Mrs. Greville and yourself! She i a tall, full-formed, radiant blonde! Xou, a little midge of a mulatto!” “Oh! I know, tkat besides my éis- colored skin and dyed hair, 1 have wasted away and grown very thin; and my dress is scant, where it was once ample, full and flowimg. These are the externals that deceive you. Ah! per- haps they ‘would deceive any one ex- cept my own friends, who have knowD me from childhood! Let me write to them. They will know my handwrit- ing and my style; ana then they wilk hasten here and recognize me, evel through all these disguises!” pleaded the captive, with clasped hands and strained eyes. “Bosh! It is the full ef the moon and a fit of lunacy! Have you any- thing more to say to me?’ said the man, filling his pipe and lighting it with a mateh. “Yes: one more question to set you thinking. I have told you who I am; that Lam, by education, habit and po- sition a young lady. L will now ask you, Mr. Rumford, whether you think my appearance; manners and language are those of a—servant?” “Humph!” grunted the master; tak- ing his pipe trom his lips and reflect- ing; “not an ordinary ene,.I grant you. put Merrick prepared. me for all that. He told me you. could sing like an an- gel, and daree: like a fainy and, and talk like the deuce. Yow ean do that list I now perceive.” And: so saying, the man. replaced his pipe. “May L ask you, then, sir; inquired Astrea, irorically, “how Merrick—since that was bis: name—explained the phe- nomena of a mulatto being. able to do all these things?” “Oh! certainly, by all means. While we were over the wine, he told me that you were the child of a wealthy planter and his favorite servant.. That your father sent you, when you sere but seven years. old, to a Northern school, where: he passed you off as 2 white girl and his: ward. He intended. to bring you. up: as.a young lady, and so he left you at that school for ten years, and then brought you.home. He further intended to set you. free; but, unfortunately, he: died suddenly, and you shared the fate of the other peo- ple, and were sold.. You: were bought by the captain of a steamboat first, -vhere you happened to have to wait on a beautiful young bride;. making her wedding tour. You. took your reverse so much to heart as to get a brain fe- yer, which has. left you with this mo- nomania. Poor girl! It was really a terrible reverse. But, cheer up; be a good girl; and you. live easy and have plenty of fine clothes to wear. And when I die I wilk leave you free. So you see things are not quite so bad they threatened to be; they never in this world. Come, now—give kiss——. What the deucedo you want, you meddlesome old fool, poking your stupid head in here This last question was put to old Cy- bele, who at this: moment appeared at the door from the: dining room. “Ole Marse,’ answered the woman, dogyedly, ‘’tain’t offen as I spea! own mine; but when I does. L do Ole Nick hisse’f shan't vent me of do- ing it!” “T have no time to bestow now; go about your busines “Shan’t do it! Nebber went my business when I didn’t choose to go, to please my ole, ole marse; “tain’t like I'll do it now to please my new, ole marse!” “Leave the room, I say, or I'll——” exclaimed the man,. advancing’ upon her. “y pen you "bout at? Youll what now? Not hit me, ‘cause: I’se too ole; an’ not sell me, ‘cause nobody ‘ll buy me; so what ll you do?” “Listen to you: [ suppose,”’said Rum- ford, suddenly charging his mood, and half-laughing at the absurdity of being. defied by a miserable old woman. “Well, den, dis what I gwine to say to you good. You has no ‘sideration for oder people's: feelin’s. You done had your own good, warm breakfas’, and now you's full, you don’t care a brass button who. goes. empty! Dat’s jes you.. Now,, how you ‘spec’ dat dere gal gwine to lib widout eatin’?) And here. you keepin” of her widout her breakfas’ all dis. time!” “It ix herown fault,” answered Rum- ford. Go, Zora, and get your break- fast. Then. come back to, me again.” CHAPTER XXXTX.. Glad to escape fron» his- presence, Astrea followed her sable guide to the dining room, ¢losing. the: eommunicat~ ing door. “Here, drile, you might’s: well eat here; cause Wenus says as how you's. allus been used to libim putty much im de house along o” de white people, an” so it gm hard wid yom to eat in de kitchen; which "pears to mre queer, too; ’cause, you see, I shouldn’t feel free an’ easy eatin’ im de house,” said the kind old*creature, placing a hot cup 9f coffee for the eaptive. “Oh, Aunt Cybele! come here, I wnt to whispyy to you,” said Astrea, low voic%, beckoning the womp 74 Cybele approached and Db‘ her head to listen. “Oh, Cybele! I hare | home that I wish te write to\ © procure me pen, ink and paper TW} to them?” ¢ “Ole marse got some in his scrateh- etary. .L ean go ask him for some.”* “No, no, no! he does not want me to write home! he would not let yor have it for me; but can yeu not get me some somewhere else?” to your writin’, it jes as much as my peor ole woolly head is werf to help you to do it in any way!” “You are net aftaid of my master? not half so charming as my warm, rich, ripe Zora, though she is but a mulatto?” - - eth ies You defied bim just now!" | =~ Be Continued) = >— “Why, law, chile, if ole marse ‘jects