Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, September 11, 1897, Page 2

ae CHAPTER XXXIX. (Continued.) “Law, chile, I knows jes how far I can go wid de ole marse. I can say putty much what I please to him; but I can’t do what I please. Ole Marse ain’t a bad-tempered man in de mflin! But when he do get on his high horse —law! but he makes people cl’ar out’n his way! I wonners, ‘deed I does, how he’s lib to dis hour ob de day wid- out killin’ somebody!” “And you will not assist me?” *t, honey!” aven will!” said Astrea, tak- ing her resolution. She knew that at night she would again be locked in her chamber, from which escape would be impracticable. Therefore, she must try to elude ob- ion and go by day. also, that the approaching r Ww with her employer would be full of peril. And therefore the attempt must be made at once. ‘The supernatural vision or dream had warned her to fly from the ac- sed house. And upon that, and ev- ery other account, she would do so. Yes! she must fly from the house, from danger, from dishonor; but— whither should she ff, whither, in a country where every door would be closed against the fugitive, and every copstable put upon her tr Yo death, if necessary! This was avhat the vision had If she could “ypress Swamp she might 3 nd even if she per- ished by starvation, it would be better than to be driven to the act of suicide, as she would be by remaining in this house. To the shades of the cypress swamp, then, she resolved to try to make her escape. She would have liked to write a few lines to her friends at home, and leave the letter for Cybele to put in the post- office; but this the fez of the old woman rendered impos As she mechanically fee, her mind reverted ag pernatural yisitant or dream of the night, and she connected it with the thought of her predecessor in this house, of whose fate she had heard the preceding evening, and she in- defy recapture, ybele, what sort of looking person that poor Lulu of whom you at bin’. Poor gal! slim, delicy, wid long black hair fallin’ down below her wais’; an’ great black eyes, wid de mos’ mournfullest look in- to dem as ebber you see! She look jes’ as if she had some eberlastin’ gree sorrow as nothin’ on this earth, nor yet in he could eber, eber comfort her! An’ so she pine whispered the old wo- steriously. ecognized, with a supersti- ill the portrait of her noctur- tor. “An’ I don’t want to scare you, hon- y, but dey do say how she walks!” # choed the captive. dey do say ole marse an’t sleep quiet in his bed, she don’t rest quiet in her grave! ay how anybody a-listenin’ can hear him hallo out in de middle o’ de night for de fear dat is on him. You see, honey, I don’t know nuftin’ *bout it. It may be nuffin ’tall but his guilty conscience for aughts I know!” whis- pered the old woman. “But who ys these things?’ in- quired Astrea, in a tone of voice from which she could not banish the ex- pression of awe. “Hush, honey; Dina—, as was de housemaid ‘fore Wenus come, she was de fus’. An’ when ole marse heard dat he turns roun’ an’ sold her to a trader. Den odder people said de same; eben visitors as stopt in de house all night. But I say it’s de effects of conscience!” “Well,” said Astrea, “such an ex- ‘planation of his wakeful nights might ‘be satisfactory.” “But, see here, honey, why’n you eat your breakfas’? You seem like any- body in a dream,” said Cybele, herself, just waking up to the perception that Astrea sat there with the food un- touched before her. Astrea, nov recollecting that she would need all her strength for her es- cape, forced herself to swallow a little coffee and bread, and then arose qui- etly from the table and walked out of the back door, as though she was go- ing into the kitchen. Then, with a sudden impulse, she turned back and got into her own room. The key was still on the outside of the lock. She turned the guard of the keyhole down on the inside, so that no one could look through it from without. Then, catch- ing up and concealing the bonnet that Venus had given her, she came out of the door and looked up and down the passage. ‘0 one was on the watch. She then closed and softly locked the door and withdrew the key, and then stooped to look through the key-hole. It was dark. “They will think that I have locked myself in, and perhaps gone to sleep. and that will gain time,” she said to herself, as once more she passed the back door out into the back yard, as if going into the kitchen. The yard was thickly shaded with trees. There was no one visible in it. She passed to the right of the kitchen building into a kitchen garden, where she found old Saturn busy among the pea-vines. »0d mornin’, Zora! How you do dis mornin’, n ” inquired the old man, straightening himself up. “Tam well, I thank you, Saturn,” she replied, as her heart sank at being thus discovered, “Where you gwine dis mornin’?’ mext asked the old man, bent on con- versation. “Don't you see? I am looking at your garden. Where are the straw- berry beds?’ she asked, anxious to escape. “Right down dere, honey; on de sun- ny side o’ de slope, at de bottom o’ de garden,” said Saturn, pointing the way. With a nod and a forced smile As- tren went on. It may well be sup- posed that she did not stop to pluck yen, ONDEMNED —TtO— WwW EALTH. > the luscious fruit. When she got to the bottom of the slope she sought for some back gate that might lead out of the garden. The fence was high and \ close, and she could not see what was | beyond it; but she believed the fields to be there, and the road not far off. At length she discovered, not a back, fastened. She opened it, passed through, and found herself in the poultry yard, where Venus stood with a basket of grain in her hand, from which she was feeding a flock of chick- ens that were fluttering around her. At sight of the young lady, down went the basket of corn, scattering its contents lavishly among the delighted fowls, who hastened to gobble it up, while Venus ran to the side of Astrea, exclaiming, breathle be’ las’ night? Is you sate dis mornin’ ?” “Thank heaven, I am safe! But, oh, is momentarily en- dar-gered. ave not now a moment to stop to talk with you. I must es- cape; so--——"” “Seape!” exclaimed the young wo- man, with her mouth and eyes wide open with astonishment. ‘Scape where, chile?” “Yo the eypress swamp! to death! to anything but the fate from which 1 fiy!” {will be deaf, den. How you get out’n de house widout bein’ stopped?” Astrea rapidly and breathlessly told, adding: “They think that I have locked my- self in my room. That will give me some little time to reach the cypress swanip, and once there, I can lose my- self in its innermost recesses. Now, tell me, and, oh, quickly, how I can best reach that swamp. For you know the country, I suppose, having lived here all your life?’ “Yes, honey; but don’t you go!” pleaded the woman, in whose thought exposure to almost certain death was the very greatest evil one could en- counter, except death itself. “Venus, understand me. I must and will escape from this house, from this danger that threatens me, no matter what else I meet in life or death! Listen farther. If I escape to the cy- press swamp there is a chance of life for me. I may be found by some one who will believe my story and take my part. If I remain here my death is ecrtain. For, look here, Venus,. be- fore he, who is even now waiting impa- tiently for me to go to him, shall so much as lay his hand on me—I will do this!” and, suddenly flashing out her peniard, she placed the glittering st her,throat. ”? screeched Venus, shut- yes, and opening her mouth to its widest extent. “Hush! you will alarm the planta- tion!” said Astrea, in a low, peremp- tory tone, as she sheathed the poniard. “And now, if you wish to save my life as well as my honor, show me the shortest way to reach the cypress swamp.” “Oh dear! Oh, dear! Oh, Lor’! I neber could ’bide cole steel an’ deadly weapons—neber. An’ de sight 0’. blood would finish me in two minutes! Neb- ber gib me sich anoder scare as long as eber you lib, chile, less you waut to see me drap down dead afore you!” sobbed Venus, all in a tremble. “Show me the way, then—or else——” said Astrea, raising the poniard, sig- nificantly. “Yes, yes, yes! I gwine to!” gasped Venus, in an accession of terror, seiz- ing the hand of Astrea, and hurrying her on to a gate letting out from the poultry yard. The gate opened upon a worn-out and abandoned field, now grown sparsely up with high weeds and har- dy shrubs, such as could find nourish- ment in its exhausted soil. A narrow, disused, grass-grown path ran through this field. “Dere, you see dis path? Follow it trough dis fiel’ till you come to de wild fig trees; den t’rough dat till you come to de plains—den dere isn’t no path, but you can see de Cypress Swamp straight afore you, right agin’ de sky, an’ not more’n half a mile off.” “Thank you, Venus; and now one re- quest more! Pray do not mention that you have seen me unless you are ques- tioned.” “Who—me? Not if I krows it! Who you think wants dere head bit off for lettin’ of you go? rot Wenus! I tell you, honey! I’s ’tween two fires wid you an ole marse! You t’reaten to kill yourself if I don’t let you go; an’ he be sure to kill me if he fine out I let you go! No, chile; I ain’t gwine to say nuffin’ ’tall. I gwine keep a_ still tongue in my head, in dis yere ticklish business. An’ now ef you will go, you'd better go ’long! I gwine lock dis here gate arter you, an’ t’row away de key,” said Venus. ‘Thank you, again, and good-by!” said Astrea, as she disappeared through the gate. Venus locked it after her, and threw the key over the fence into the high weeds, where it must have been hope- lessly lost. “Dere, now! Uncle Satan get de blame o’ losin’ dat key! ‘cause it’s his: business to keep dat gate locked an’ dat key safe! which, if he’d done his duty, dis gal nebber could o’ bullied me into lettin’ o’ her trough! ’cause why? why, ’cause I couldn’t a’ done it widouten de key! Oh! but ain’t shea lamb, neider? When she t’reaten me wid dat little p’inard, her eyes flash | sparks o’ fire! Who'd a thought it o” her, to see her so gentle, most times? But, lors! so is a wildcat—de softes’, gentles’, purrin’est creetur’ dat ebber was till you makes it mad. Den take care 0’ youse’f, will you! All o’ sud- dint its nuffin’ but fangs and claws an’ tail, all in a blaze o’spittin’ fire. He better take a she-tigress fora sweet- heart afore she! She jes’ soon p'inard him as look at him, an’ a heap sooner, tvo! Now, what I gwine to say if dey ax me any questions? Lie like de debbil, 1 s’pose, wid de risk 0’ bein’ foun’ out, to make my case worse! Well, Wenus, L wish you well out’n but a side gate. To her joy, it was un-} to the house to do the chamber work. Cybele was still in the dining room, standing at the head of the table, washing up the breakfast service. She Mad out and spoke to Venus, inquir- ig: “See anyt’ing o’ Zora dis mornin’?’ “Dere! I know dat gwine to be de berry first guestion! Why, where is she?’ said the: woman, who was not quite prepared with her falsehood. “She went out here *bout an hour ago, an’ she ain’t in de kitchen, nor likewise im de poultry yard; t’ought as how you an’ she were ‘quainted long o’ each oder, you might ’a’ seen some- din of her.” “How I gwime see her an’ she in de house an’ I outside? Who want her?’ “I do!” said the angry voice of Mr. Rumford, as he walked into the room. “I have something to say to her, and I ordered her to come to me directly after she had finished her breakfast. She has not done so! She has kept me waiting for nearly two hours! You were her companion! Where is the woman! Tell me at once!” “Oh, lors! it’s a-comin’!’ trembling girl to herself. “Answer, woman!” “Yes, sir! I is gwine to, sir! ’deed I is!” said Venus, twisting her apron, without the remotest idea of what she should say.. “Then why the deuce. don’t you? Don’t you understand the question? Where is your companion? Where is Zora?’ thundered the roused man. “Oh, lor’, sir! oh, lor’, sir! she’s— she’s———” “Where?” “Locked herse’f up in her own room to go to sleep; sir!” discharging the lie with the suddenness of a bullet. Rumford dropped the arm of Venus, said the mored surprise, as he said, slowly: “Well, upom my word! this is one of directly after breakfast, and instead of coming she goes calinly off and locks sleep! I like that!” “But, marse,” said Venus, who now mos’ dead for sleep, sir! ’deed she was: cause she didn’t sleep all las’ night fong 0” the fright she got a-bein’ by herse’f!” “Fright?” “Yes, marse! You see, she allus use to kave me in her room, an’ she ’fraid to sleep by herse’f at night. An’ so she ecouldn’t sleep! An’ so dis morn- in’ she dead for sleep! An’ ebber since her long sickness she’s subject to a fiutteration ob de heart, which, if she don’t get her good sleep, it comes on.” “Humph! that is very bad! Mer- rick told me nothing of that,” said Rumford, shaking his head with an air of dissatisfaction. “Hi, marse, you tink any trader gwine to run down an’ misparage his own goods? But you needn’t be no ways oneasy "bout Zora, if you only lets her sleep de gran’ roun’s.” “The grand rounds? What the deuce are they?’ asked the planter, raising his eyebrows. “Why, marse, from one hour ob de ebenin’ to de ’spondin’ hour ob de mornin’; or failin’ ob dat, as it failed las’ night, from one hour ob de mornin’ to de spondin’ hour ob de ebenin’. So, as she go to sleep dis mornin’ at 9 o'clock, don’t let anybody wake her up till 9 o’clock dis ebenin’. Dat will be twelve hours at a stretch.” “Ha, ha, ha! and that is what you call sleeping the grand rounds? Well, it is well that none of my people pos- sess a constitutional necessity for sleeping the grand rounds! Well, as it is her first day in her new home, we will let her sleep! It will be time enough for me to give her a lecture on obedience to my orders when she wakes!” laughed Rumford, good-hu- moredly, as he put his everlasting pipe into his mouth and sauntered out upon the lawn. “Wenus, dat true?’ significantly in- quired Cybele, as she put away the breakfast service in the china closet. “What true?’ demanded the non- committal Venus, “Bout Zora.” “What ’bout Zora?” “Bout her havin’ dat flutteration in de heart, an’ bein’ ’blige’ to sleep de gran’ roun’s an’ dat? Or is it only good-for-nuffin’, triflin’ laziness?” “It’s true; do you t’ink I tell a false?” demanded Venus, indignantly. “Oh, no! but I tink you looks berry much like I do when I tells a false, dere!” “I gwine to ole marse room now!” said Venus, flinging herself angrily out of the dining room. The day passed off quietly. Mr. Rumford dined out with a neigh- bor, and did not return home until very late. As he always let himself in with a latch-key, his servants were not required to set up for him. At 10 o'clock, therefore, Cybele and Venus were engaged in closing up the house, when the former said: “It done struck 10 o'clock! an’ dat gal ain’t wake up yet. I t’ink she mus’ be sleepin de gran’ roun’s gran’er dan ebber!” “Well, s’pose she is? She’s tireder dan ebber!” grumbled Venus, as they locked the last door behind them and retired to the loft above the kitchen, where they slept. Meanwhile, where was Astrea? CHAPTER XL. It was near day when Rumford re- turned from the dining party, none the better for the champagne he had con- sumed. He was one of those whom wine will put to sleep, but never de- prive of reason. He had sense enough | to reach home, put his horse in the sta- ble, let himself into the house, find his way to his chamber, and even blow out the light before tumbling ‘into bed, where he fell into a heavy sleep which lasted until late the next day. That morning the household arose early, as usual. Cybele and Venus met in the passage between Astrea’s chamber and the dining room. “Zora up yet?” inquired the oldest of the goddesses. “No!” was the curt reply. “Den she mus’ be sleepin’ ob de gran’ roun’s three times ober! I gwine call her.” “Don’t you do no such thing. Ole marse say how she mus’n't be ’sturb | till she wake up her own se’f!” said : Venus, in alarm, : nas eh oe sod eee and his rage subsided into a good-hu- | the coolest proceedings I ever heard of! | I order a girl to come to my presence | herself up in her ewn room to go to | that the fountain of falsehood was un- | sealed, lied most fiuently—‘Zora was | goodness alibe, chile, de gal herse’f to deaf!” “Not she! I knows her ways! It’s all along ob her flutteration ob de heart! You go wake her up an’ kill her! dat all! an’ den see what ole marse gwine say to you!” said Venus, threateningly. “Berry well, I ain't gwine ’sturb her. Deed, for dat matter, since she has slep’ so long, I has got a curiosity to see how long she will sleep if lef’ alone,” answered Cybele, hurring out into the kitchen to attend to the breakfast. Venus went to the dining room to set the table. According to the strict rules of the house, breakfast was always prepared at the usual hour—8 o'clock. But on this morning it waited long in ¥ain for the appearance of the master. At length, some time after TI, he. came out of his chamber, dressed in his dressing: gown, and looking tired and haggard. He entered the dining room, threw himself into his arm chair and rang for his coffee. Venus brought im the urn. “Where is Zora? Has she got through with her—Rip Van Winkle sleep yet?’ inquired the planter, with a dash of humor in his tone. “No, sir,’ answered Venus, curtly and unexpectedly. “What!” exclaimed Rumford, ia as- tonishment. “It take hera long time to sleep off one ob dem flutterations ob de——” “Bosh!” exclaimed Rumford, laugh- ing, jumping up from the table, strid- ing through the passage, and knock- ing loudly at Astrea’s door, while he: called out: “Zora! Zora! Zora! Come, come, my girl! Are yow sleeping the last sleep? Or are you, as is most likely, sulking there? Ycu must be hungry by this time, at least? Come, come, | show yourself!” And, having thundered at the door orce more, he returned and seated himself at the table, saying: “That would awaken her if she was one of the seven sleepers! Pour oat my coffee, girl!” It was fully an hour and a half be fore the gourmand got through with his breakfast and left the table. His first thought was of Astrea. “Hasn’t that girl made her appear- ance yet?’ he inquired of Cybele, who was loitering in the passage. “No, sir; an’ I is ‘feared somefip has happen’ ’Tain’t no ways natural for anybody to sleep so long as dat,” answered Cybele. “No, it is mot! and people with heart disease sometimes die in their sleep,” said the planter, going to Astrea’s door and knocking and calling loudly. Of course there was no response from within. “There is something the matter! Get me a crow bar, and I will force the door,” said Rumford, turning pale. Cybele trotted off and asked Saturn for the required tool. ‘The old man was some time rummag- ing in the woodshed before he could find it; for old Saturn, with the disor- derly habits of his tribe, kept his kind- ling wood in the tool house, and left his tools scattered about under the woodshed. At length, however, Cybele brought the crow bar to her master, and the door was forced. They all entered the room in a body. There was no one there. The room was empty. Every one looked into each other’s face with astonisbment! Eyen Venus, because she knew the secret perfectly well, opened her mouth and eyes wid- er than any one else. The master was the first to find his voice. “What in the name of the demons of darkness is the meaning of this?’ he demanded, in a terrible voice, turning from Cybele to Venus. “Deed an’ deed, an’ deed, marse, I doesn’t know, sir!’ replied Cybele, trembling with affright, although she was speaking the truth. “An’ afore all de angels in hebbin, marse, I don’t know nuffin’ nuther!” affirmed Venus, with all the more con- fidence, because she knew she was tell- ing a lie. “You are both deceiving me! take care!” “Deed an’ ’deed, marse, ’fore de Lord we ain’t!” exclaimed both, in a breath. “Who saw her last?” demanded the master, in a furious tone. No one durst answer. “What was the last you saw of her Cybele?” he thundered, turning to the old woman. “Lor, arse; soon as ebber she done her breakfas’ yes’day mornin’ she went out o’ de dinin’-room, an’ I tought how she was a-going to you ’cordin’to orders, ’cause I heard you tell her to come myself! An’ dat was the berry las’ I see of her.” “And you? You saw her after this? You saw her when she said she was going to lie down and sleep?’ said the planter, turning abruptly to Venus. “Yes, marse! yes, sir! I was stan’in in de back door when she come out’n de dinin’-room, an’ open her own room door an’ say to me, ‘Wenus, I is gwine ti lie down an’ try to get some sleep.’ An’ so she shut her own door an’ lock it on de inside, an’ dat de berry las, I ebber see ob her, ’fore all de angles In_heaben!” It was terrible to look on the white rage of.the baffled man. His face was as pale and grim as death itself; his eyes gleamed with a baleful fire; But, ‘his jaws were locked; and his words came from peneath clenched teeth. “Call Saturn to me, was his next order. The old man was summoned and questioned; but could give no satisfac- tion. “Her sleep was a sham,” said Rum- ford, between his set teeth. Then turning to Saturn, .he said: “Cause inquiries to be made through- out the plantation for her. Go yeur- self down to the negroes quarters and ask there; see Steppins, the overseer, and question him. Say that I will give a hundred dollars to any of my people who will bring me any certain information about her!” Saturn hurried away to do his er- rand, Lhe others dispersed upon the saine mission. The search began in earnest. and was pursued the whole morning with vigor, but without effect. ‘Towards evening Rumford once more called Saturn to his presence. 'The old man stood bowing before him. “This girl, Zora, is very delicate; she has but recently recovered from a se- vere illness; she has already probably passed one night in the open air; she must not pass another; it death; she must be , by any means and at all hazards; loose the two eld bloodhounds, Caster and Pok | lux, and bring them to this room.” “OL! marse! You would not hurt young gal, with bloedhounds?’ ex- claimed the old man. “Why not? They will not hurt her; they are too well trained; they will only track her and hold her uwutil we come up; and, in one word, it is the only way, or, at feast, the quickest and surest way of recovering her! Besides, blame you! am Ef accountable te you for my acts?” -said Rumford, half- laughing, as: was his custom, when be- trayed into a supposed infringement of his dignity. The old man went eut and did 2s he was bid, and very soon the passage door was burst open, and two beauti- ful hounds bounded before Saturs into their master’s presence, and, jumping upoa him, began to eover him with caresses. “Good dogs! come! come!” saitf the latter, rising and leading the way to Astrea’s room. Here lie looked about in vain: for some article of her clothing, but, fail- ing to find any, and recollecting, be- sides that she had brought nothing with her except what she wore, he felt quite at a loss; until, suddenly, think- ing of the arm chairin which, he had learned,. she had passed the night, he made the well trained dogs scent that, and" then he started them upon the track with the usual words: “Good dogs! good dogs! seek her; then!” They snuffed about the chair, amd then about the room, and, finally reach- ing the door, struck her trail; but seemed soon to lose: it again in the passage, amd again to recover it in the yard. And thus, sometimes at fauh, sometimes on the trail, they passed through the yard and the garden and the poultry yard to the back gat where it will be remembered that As seek her? trea stcod talking a considerable time | to Venus. Here they set up a howl, and, as the fence was very low, they soon scram- bled over it, and set forth in full ery upon the path she had taken.. Meantime Rumford had mounted a herse that stood ready saddled to re- ceive him, and had ridden out upon the high road to watch the movement of the dogs. When he saw them scramble over the back fence of the poultry yard, and set out in full ery upon the narrow path leading through the old field, he ealled on his groom to mount and fol- low him, and put spurs to his horse and dashed after them at full speed, uttering, in a high, encouraging tone, the eries by which a hunter cheers on his hounds to the chase. So they dashed over the fields. leading to the eypress swamp. And meantime, where was Astrea? After she had passed the gate and heard it shut and locked behind her, she struck into the narrow path lead- ing through the neglected fields to- ward the grove of wild fig trees. Fear lent her wings until she had cleared the intervening space and reached their friendly shelter. Then, weary, palpitating and breath- less, she sat down to rest. She could no longer be seen by any ehance ob- server from the house. But yet, in her nervous, frightened and vigilant state, the flutter of a bird in the foliage, the stir of an insect in the herbage, was enough to startle her. Not long, there- fove, did she trust herself to repose here; but, having waited only to re- cover breath, arose and hurried for- ward on her way, which led through the open country toward a grove of magnolia trees, where she again vent- ured to sit down to rest for a while, and this time with the more conti- dence that she calculated herself to be at a considerable distance from the plantation house. After half an hour’s repose she again set forth on her way, that now led througl the green savannas stretching toward the cypress swamp. Twenty minutes’ walk brought her within its venerable shades. There had been a long dry season, and the yerge of the swamp scaréely deserved its name. It was more a wood than a swamp. She penetrated yet half a mile into its interior, and here, lost in its impervious shades, she sat down | ker track, and then upon the fallen trunk of a thunder- stricken tree and yielded herself up to the new, delightful feeling of freedom and safety. In these thick shades who should find her. True, she was heated, tired and hungry; but the fresh shades of the wood would cool her fever; the velvety ground invited repose; the trunk of the fallen tree offered a pil- low; she would sleep and forget her liunger. So, folding her arms under her nead, with a deep sigh of satisfac- tion, she closed her eyes and yielded herself to sleep. It was early in the afternoon when she fell asleep; it was late in the night when she awoke. At first she knew not -vhere she was —so profund had been her sleep, so perfect had been her forgetfulness. And now, when she awoke and found herself alone in this Southern wood, with the veiled glory of night above, and the subdued melody of nature around, she felt strengthened, com- forted and cheered. “It would seem easy to die here, and return to the bosom of a mother so full of benignity; and even if I do not die, L feel that I shall be delivered, in some other way, from the destruction that 1 so much dread,” she said to herself, as she arose from her recumbent postare and sat-upon the trunk of a fallen tree. Here she sat, entranced, for the next hovr, watching that beautiful, slow process, in which the sober glory of the night merges into the magnificent splendor of day. When the sun rose flooding the whole landscape with dazzling light, bathing it in brilliant color, and kiad- ling it into jubilant life; and the birds awoke, filling the air with their joyous matutinal hymns; and the flowers un- folded, breathing forth their morning offering of incense; then Astrea joined the worship of nature in her great temple, and bowed her head in prayer. This finished, she arose and walked forth in quest of such food as the wild could afford her. On the outskirts of the wood she found some fine dew berries, upon which she made a luscious breakfast. ‘Then, refreshed, she bent her steps toward the interior of the wood, with crly the single object of getting as fay as possible from the neighborhood of the plantation house. At sunset she reached the very, heart loved enes at it were not for my home!” : a ‘At these words—“my loved enes at home”—the soug she had been trilling died away from her lips and out of her heart, and she sat down pensively at the teot of a great tree. Hark! What sound is that which breaks upon her charmed ear? A melodious, soft cry, exceeding strange and sweet, yet not the note of any bird of the air, nor the voice of creature of the wood. It rises and dit away. She murmurs to herself: 2 “These woods are as full of music as of beauty,” and lifts her head to listen. Again those soft, clear chimes rise, | pell-like, upon the air, and now they are followed by a swift pattering, as of raindrops upon fallen leaves, and & rustling in the branches near. She starts to her feet. Oh, heaven! it is’ the bay of the bloodhounds! and they are .en. her track! CHAPTER XLT. For a moment Astrea stood paral- yzed—but only for a moment, Her first thought was that any at- tempt to es ye would be utterly fu- tile: could she hope to out- 8 ft-footed hounds, whese deep-mouthed baying now med to fill the whole swamp with a: wilder- ness of sound? nt: she remem- read that the smell of fresh blood would so deaden the sense of smell of a bloodhoud that he could not follow scent. Quick as thought, she snatched the tiny dagger from her bosom, ent a in one of her fing -flowing blood over large: flat stone that . placed it directly in wrapping her fin- ger in her handkerchief. that no drop of blood might perchence betray the direction of her flight to the hounds, she glided away still further into the In hort time she came to ish, shallow brook, into which once stepped and waded along the center of it for some distance, for the purpose of the hounds off the they should by any means regaim it after passing the bloodstone she had left in the path. She had read of fugitive Indian captives thus. throy their savage pursuers off the tra nnd she thought the bloodhounds (whi now heard uttering strange © seme distance behind her) might be bafiled by the same stratagem. After proceeding along the s some distance, / 1 came: to tree standing close to its banks, which large limbs stre' ed drooping- s its entire width. One of he found she could reach; and it occurred to her that if she could draw herself upom it, and). by crawling upon it, reach the trunk of the tree, she would be securely hiddem in its thick foliage from evem the most pry- ing observation.. Immediately acting upon this idea, she seized the limb, and, after a si vere struggle, succeeded in reaebing the body of the tree, which she as- cended until she thought she would be safe from any scrutiny to which her hiding place could be subjected from belew, and then, finding a comforta- ble seat in the crotch of a huge limb, t down, calmly to await whatev- te might betide her. She felt she had done her best to es- cape, and she left the result of her efforts to Providence The bloodhounds had fer some little sed their eries altogether, a umstance inspired her additional trustfulmess and hope. The cause of the cessation of the bloodhounds” eries was the fact that they had completely lost the scent by reason of Astrea’s stratagem. On ar- riving at the stone which she had pre- pared for them, they ran their noses over it after the custom of their kind, and the powerful smell of the fresh blood with which she had so thickly smeared it, rendering them utterly in- capable of following the faint scent left by the fugitive's flying footsteps. It was then that the hounds uttered those strange cries which Astrea heard as she was entering the brook, and which were the troubled, inarticulate explosions of their disappointment and wrath at being so hopelessly baftied. After »® short time, and while the hounds were still giving vent to their dissatisfaction, Rumford and his groom rode up. “What, in the fiend’s name, is the matter with the dogs?’ exclaimed Rumford. And dismounting as he spoke, the planter threw the bridle rein to his groom, and advanced to the side of the hounds, who were at that moment run- ning their noses for the fiftieth time over the blood-smeared stones. No sooner did Rumford’s eyes fall on the stone, than he comprehended the cause of the dogs’ strange conduct and divined the ruse that Astrea had played him. A burst of rage followed this discovery; but it was soon dis- placed by a feeling of admiration at the wit and cleverness of his slave, as he verily believed Astrea to be. Catching up the stone, he held it up to the vision of the groom, and ex- claimed: 2 ee here, Sam! Isn’t that a neat trick for that quadroon witch to play me'and my dogs? She’s smart enough to be a white girl, that’s certain; and I don’t know but she may really be Mrs. Colonel Greville, after all—only she can’t be,” he added to himsel “because that lady’s appearance is fresh in my memory for me to ¥ posed upon by Zora’s mad tale, ‘Then, hurling the stone to on ae: again addressing the groom, “Come along this way, Sam, with herses. I must get the dogs away from here, or they'll never find the scent again. The blood was fresh on the stone, and so it must recenty have come from YZora’s veins. Therefore, she cannot be far from the spet.” So saying, Rumford called after him, and strode ra casting ting side, and followed, at a litt by Sam was lying nez