Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, September 25, 1897, Page 6

2 (CONDEMNED <P One WEALTH. CHAPTER XLILI—(CONTINUED). “Lady! you have not been regard- less of my warning; you have not hes- itated to expose your life to the dread- ful death of slow starvation in the woods, rather than transgress. But 1 kad leave to watch you while you slept to keep away the deadly reptile of the thicket, and the deadlier mias- ma of the swamp. So that you took no harm. I will be with you again in your hour of deadliest peril. Fear not, ‘therefore, to meet the wicked man. You shall be saved!” And before these words were farly finished, the vision had faded away. For a few moment sAstrea remained in ment, uncertain whether she had seen, or dreamed; of one thing only she felt sure—that, whether vision -or dream, it had greatly revived her hopes, and so she fell asleep and slept ati morning. Venus was the first to wake and roll up her mattress. And so, when Astrea opened her eyes they fell upon the kind creature, who stood before the dressing-glass tying up her turban. Astrea also arose and began to look around for the white dri she had worn since leaving the ship, but she saw no tr of it. * Yenus caught her reflection in the gl: and turned around. le honey, you up? Dat right. You lookin’ for your gown? Yes, hon- ey, you jes’ ought to have seen it when I took it offen you night. Not fit for ole beggar woman much less young gall. So i jes’ sent it down to de laun- dry. Dere, honey, dem’s sent it in kere for you,” she said, pointing to a large trunk that stood open in a corner of the room. ‘ Astrea went to the trunk, wondering whether it contained the wardrobe of her unhappy predecessor in this room —poor Lulu. There were gay and even costly dress and all articles requi- site to a woman's toilet. Astrea selected the plainest—a black silk. It fitted her near enough for ser- vice, an when she had washed her face and combed her hair she put it on. “De door’s unlocked, chile,” said Ve- as she tried the hadle and found nu it so. They both went out into the passage, Where they parted, Venus going into the kitchen and Astrea into the dining room, where her “duties” lay. Rumford was standing one of the windows with a nev per in his hand. He turned, and, seeing Astrea, said: ‘ome! that is well! not sulky this morning? That is right. But I say, you must never play me that never give me so much long as we both live. But, however, we will talk about that after breakfast, when. once for ail, we must come to an understanding.” “Yes, sir,” replied Astrea, with grave dignity. “And now, Zora, ring for my choco- fate.” Astrea obeyed, and the summons was nswered by Cybele, bearing the pot of chocolate. CHAPTER XLIV. When Rumford had finished break- ‘fasting, he deliberately arose, locked the dining room door leading into the passage, took the key from it, and, turning to Astrea, said: “Sit down and get your breakfast, my girl; I prefer, since you are to be, in some degree, my companion, that you do not eat or in any way associate intimately with the negroes in the kitchen; neither do I suppose that, brought up as you have been, such as- sociation would be agreeable to you. You will always, therefore, take your meals in this room, after me. Sit ~down, now, and breakfast, and when you ve finished, come to me in tie adjoining parlor. We must arrive at a mutual understanding, and I shall take care this time, that you do not elude the interview.” And so saying, Rumford passed into the front parlor, stretching the com- municating door wide open so that he could keep Astrea in sight. Astrea made no reply to his speech, which seemed, indeed, to require none. She sat down at the table and slowly -drank a cup of chocolate. Rumford, in the meantime, walked up and down the floor of the parlor and watched. Astrea did not linger at the table with the view of deferring the inter- view. That which she deemed to be inevitable she resolved to meet fear- lessly, trusting still in heaven. She goon, therefore, arose and passed into the parlor, saying, as she stood before the planter: “Mr. Rumford, I am here.” “That is well, Zora,” he replied. And he walked back into the dining room, rang the bell, unlocked the door, and said to old Cybele, who answered the summons: “Remove the service.” Cybele looked doubtful about obey- ing, until she had glanced at the table, and seen, by the second-used cup and saucer, that Astrea had also break- fasted. Then, with a grunt, she set about clearing the table. Rumford returned to the front par- lor, closed the door communicating with the dining room and locked it. Then tried the door leading into the passage and found it fast. Astrea watched his proceedings, and saw that she was a close prisoner; but she felt the little poinard in her bosom, -and smiled to know that she was safe. Rumford threw himself upon the sofa, and signed to Astrea to seat her- self beside him. But Astrea drew herself up with dig- nity, and took no further notice of the invitation. “Sit down! sit down here on the sofa by me, Zora; for we are quite alone, and I wish to have some good under- standing with you! Come! why don’t yu move? Sit down! sitdown!” said ‘ ‘ord, impatiently patting the end ; of the sofa upon which he invited her to seat herself. “A slave does not sit in the presence of her master!’ said Astrea, with a fine irony. “But when her master permits,” said tumford. “Her position is till to humble to embolden her to avail herself of such liberty,” replied Astrea ,with a curling lip and flashing eye, that neutralized the humility of her words. “Blame it, then! if her master com- mands!” cried Rumford, half-laughing, half-provoked at what seemed to him very amusing resistance on the part of a girl entirely in his power; “if her master commands, how then, Ze H “The servant, having no other op- tion, would obey, L suppose,” answered Astrea, deliberately taking up one of the light straw chairs, carrying it to the extremity of the room farthest it. “Blast it! not ther here, here, on the sofa beside me, where I can talk te you at ease. I have much to y to you, my girl, which it behooves you te aid Rumford, again impatient- ting the spot where he wished to sit. “I have excellent ears, sir, and can hear quite well at this—respectful— distance.” “Bosh! come here, here! I say here! I command you!” cried the planter, impatiently repeating his gesture. “IT will not, sir,” firmly replied As- trea. Not!” exclaimed the planter, in a state of mind blending surprise, dis- pleasure and mirth. Did you say ‘Not? ”” “I will not, sir,’ repeated Astrea, emphatically. “By the demon, but that is good! I like that! But I see how it is! This girl has been well educated and brought up, and is vastly superior to ber ¢ she has never had a lover, and, consequently, in her maiden pride, she would be wooed before she is won. And, deuce take me, if 1 don’t like her the better for it. I am sick of your too-willing ones, however tempting in other respects: ‘For the fruit that will fall without shaking Indeed is too mellow for me.’ So, this proud maiden beauty, slave as she is, will be wooed before she is won. Yes; and she is worth wooing ard worth winning, too. And I should net wonder the least in the world if she insisted on being married as well as courted! But, of course, she can’t come that game over me!” These thoughts passed rapidly through the mind of Rumford, as he sat contemplating with admiration the stately and beautiful form of Astrea, as she sat like a princess in her dis- tant chair. At last he spoke up: “Zora, nonsense, about this relation of master and slave. It is true, I pur- chased you, and paid a good, round sum, 100; worth, I will pay ten times as much to possess you. But, child, I did not buy a delicate and beautiful creature like you to make a servant of you, any more than I would buy a costly er- mine robe to make a door-mat. No, my de 1 liked your looks from the very fi und purchased you to mak you the companion and solace of i; declining year the pet and darling of my affections; the light and life of my domestic hearth; in one word, my dear Zora, I purchased you, not for a servile slave, but for a beloved com- panicn; who should fill, in my heart and home, the place of a wife and chil- dren; who should rule my house and servants; share my pleasures; com- mand my purse; nurse me tenderly in sickness; close my eyes in death; and, finally, inherit my fortune! This, my dear girl, is the position I offer you! “And you dare to speak these words to me! to me, a pure woman and a wedded wife!’ gasped Zora, nearly speechless with indignation. “Stuff, girl! that’s your monomania again—the one subject upon which you are cracked! But it is the full of the moon, or but little past it, and I hope, with the wane, the hallucination ! will pass away. In the meantime, pray do not mention it to me again, my dear girl. And, Zora, let me tell you that the tone you adopt toward me is scarcely proper or grateful. And you have something to be grateful for.” “Oh, have I, indeed?” exclaimed As- trea, bitterly. “Yes, you have, you spoiled and in- experienced child! Suppose I had not purchased you? You would have been taken to New Orleans, and exposed for sale on the auction block. Some grace- less scamp would have bought you, and, after loving you for a little while, would have grown tired of you, and sold you to some one else; or he would have married a wife, and brought her home to queen it over you, and break your heart; or you would have been bought by some married man, to wait upon his wife, whom your beauty would have driven mad with jealousy —and so, between the favor of your master and the hatred of your’ mis-| all the better for it, Zora! tress, your life would have been a purgatory. Such, or some such fate would have been yours, Zora, had I not purchased you. Now, see how much happier your position is! Here you have no jealous mistress to op- press you; no rival to distress you; here you need feel no female despot- ism, and no male inconstancy; here you are the sole mistress of the house —the sole darling of the old man, in whom you need never fear change—| for men of my age do not change like younger ones, my. girl. They get used to a pretty, affectionate girl, and the longer they know her the better they love her; and the length of years they live together does but cement the at- techment. Come, now, my dear girl, think over what I have said—remem- ber it is this—that you shall be the from Rumford, and seating herself in| as now, that I know your]. | only love of my heart, my wife in ev- erything but the name, and the name I could not in any case offer any girl of your color, because, however worthy of it she might be, the laws of the state would not sanction it. Come, iy child—think of what I offer you! I will not further distress you this morning; but this evening I may, per- haps, see you again.” And so saying, the planter arose to leave the parlor. “Stay!” said Astrea, sternly. Half-laughing at the peremptory tone taken by his slave, Rumford paused, saying: “As long as you like, my dear. I ha, supposed my presence to be unwe come. I am glad to find it otherwise!” And he threw himself into a chair. “You have spoken words to me which it was dishonor to my ears to hear and deeper dishonor to your lips to utter. You are an old man—old in years, and older still in a constitution ruined by vice——” “Zora!” interrupted the sternly. “Yes, sir—I will speak to you plain- ly. From me you shall hear the truth, if you never heard it before. Let oth- ers flatter and deceive you to your soul’s eternal perdition, if they will. Heaven knows that I will not. I re- peat that you are an old man—older still by vice than by years! Between you and the grave there can be but a little while—a few years at most— perhaps but a few months, a few weeks or a few days. Life at your age, spent as you spend it, is always short and yery precarious——” “So much the better for you, my dear, if you will but stop preaching, and consent to comfort what is left of it to me!” said Rumford, with gay de- fiance. “Be silent on that insulting subject! I abhor you, old man—there is nothing on earth so loathsome and so appall- ing to my soul as vicious old age! And yet it is even more in pity than dis- gust that I warn you—look to your- self! You are old, infirm, feeble! You are sensual, gluttonous and drunken! You are despotic, passionate, excita- ble! At any moment these combined influences may occasion your sudden death. I know it! And then? what then? You would be hurried, without a moment for repentance ,and with all your lifetime’s load of sin upon your soul, into the awful presence of your Judge! Think of that, old man, and tremble!” “Well, you see I don’t tremble, al- though you force me to think of disa- greeable subjects—you witch!” said Rumford, with gay indifference. “Mr. Rumford, do you believe in God, and in a future state of rewards and punishments?” “Of course I believe in God; to the future state of rewards :nishments, that is all bosh!” hen I acn no longer talk with you, If you reject the truths of the jan revelation, I can have no further hold upon your conscience. I can only pray that the Lord, to whom all things are possible, may enlighten your soul.” Girl! Zora! you talk to me as though you thought I was the greatest sinner alive! Iam not. Iam known all over the country for a good fellow. To prove it to you, I sit here and listen to a lot of abuse from my own slaye, that no other man alive would take even from his wife! I think that proves I am not a bad fellow. And what the deuce!—I haye never robbed or mur- dered anybody—never cheated, or lied to, or wronged any one in my life. Of what, threfore, am I accused?” “Lulu!” said Astrea, in a low, sig- nificant voice. For a moment the planter started and changed color. Then, recovering himself, with a light laugh, he said: “I never wronged Lulu.- I bought her, as I bought you. I never com- pelled her inclinations. She loved me willingly; and I treated her well, and gave her lots of fine clothes and jew- elry. and took her to the Springs ev- summer, where she passed for my ward, and danced at all the balls with the best ladies of the land. And so I will take you, if you will be good and reasonable.” “But she died! die?” “Took a fit of religious fanaticism all of a sudden at a campmeeting, and wanted to separate herself from me. Well, if she had been only my compan- ion she might have done it, but, being a slave, she could not come that game over the old fellow. And so the fool took her position so to heart that she pined away and died. That was not fault, you know.” ot your fault, oh, miserable and blinded man! I tell you, that when you shall meet that poor, lost girl at the dread judgment seat of your of- fended Maker, you will find that the sins you have compelled her to com- mit will be lifted from her soul and thrown upon yours, and weigh it down to eternal perdition! And now I warn you, old man. Slave as you believe me to be, I do not fear you! I can neither be persuaded, tempted, nor compelled to dishonor as Lulu was! Believe me, no woman, pure in thought, wred and deed, ever can. I hold my fate and your sin in the hollow of my hand! I know and feel it with a deep conviction. 'Therefore—and this is why I called you back—do not dare to pass .the threshold my room to-night! Slave as you think me, my chamber is my sanctuary, and shall be held most sa- ered from the intrusion of any man, even of my so-called master! There- fore, Mr. Rumford, if’ you even dare make the attempt to enter my chamber this night, or any night, it will be at your utmost peril! You are warned” “Whe-ew!” said the planter, pursing up his lips, ‘what a splendid actress you would haye made! But I like you I like you all the better for it, my girl! And I'm blamed, if you were white, if I wouldn’t marry you to-morrow! But, as it is, it is no go, you know. As to defying me to conie into your room, [ like that, too! That is piquant! That is sauce to the goose! I shall come all the surer for that defiance, my girl! Do you think I am afraid of your little claws and teeth, you pretty little kit- ten? No; I have served through the Mexican war, and faced a charge of bayonets; and do you think a woman’s nails or tongue, either, can turn me “back? Besides, my dear, you will preach from a very different text a month hence.” And so saying, Rum- ford unlocked the door, lighted his pipe, and strolled out upon the lawn. He had scarcely gone out of sight when the door of a closet beside the planter, but as and And how did she chimney opened, and Venus appeared, with a scared visage. “Why, Venus! is that you?’ ex- claimed Astrea, in astonishment. “Yes, honey, what’s lef’ of me by de smotheration! De Lor’! dere ain't a single breaf of air in dat dere cup- board when de docr am shut!” replied the woman, gasping. “But—how came you in that closet?” “Debil, I s’pose, honey! Nuffin’ tall but de debil. Fact is, I was in de room a-dustin’ of de furniture while ole marse was eatin ‘his breakfas’, an’ so I heerd him order you to come in here an’ talk wid him when breakfas’ was over; an’ so de debil temp me to slip in dis yere closet an’ listen, an’ see as dere was fair play! an’ Lor’ knows I was punish epough for it, too! It was hot as an oven, an ‘iota breaf of fresh air, an’ if I had staid dere one minute longer, I done died with suf- feration! ’I'was de debil, chile! nuf- fin but de debil!” “No, indeed, Venus! I do not think it was the devil, but rather some good angel that inspired you to go into that closet ,and watch to see that there was fair play, as you call it. I hope you heard and saw everything that passed’ heard and saw everything that passed.” fo single t’ing, honey! ‘deed cx “I am glad you did! I am glad to know that I was not now, and never have been, alone in a closed room with that desperate man! But you said that you hid yourself in there to see that there was fair play. And I believe that you were inspired to become my witness. And, tell me, Venus, if there had not been fair play, what do you think you should have done to help me?” “Hi, chile! how I know what de deb- il might o’ tempted of me todo? Take up Ce poker an’ knock ole marse down for dead, maybe, an’ den get myse’f hungged up by de neck for it! Some- fin like dat, honey, I knows, ’cause you see de debil was busy wid me!” “I hope not, Venus; for, as I said before, it was not Satan that was with you, but some good spirit. And now, Venus, since you heard everythiag that passed, you heard of the threatened to-night?” es, honey; I heerd it all good; *deed did I!—ole scamp!” “Well, Venus, there is one great fa- vor I shall ask of you!” “What dat, honey?” “To stay in my room with me to- night!” “Lor’, chile, I done ’ceive my orders contrary wise to dat! Ole marse he say to me dis mornin’, he say: ‘Wenus, woman, you can go back to your loft to-night; Zora is well enough to ’spense of your services.’ So dere, you see, heney!”’ “Ah! Venus, I expected something like that! but do, my dear girl, try to elude their vigilance, and conceal your- self in my chamber to-night! You can hide under the bed, or in the wardrobe, or in one of the closets. Will you do this for me?” SE chile, what good I gwine do you by ’sposin’ my own life to ’struction?” “The same good that you have done me by hiding yourself in that cup- board to witness the interview be- tween myself and Mr. Rumford.” “An’ what dat, honey? For, ‘fore my ’Vine Marser in hebbin, I doesn’t know?” “It was this, Venus! Your presence in that closet will prevent any one from being able to say, with truth, that I was alone for one single mo- ment, in a closed room, with that man! Think of that, Venus! It was for that you were led to conceal yourself in this room.” “Well, Lor’,I do really ’spose it was; else how I do it?” “And now, my good woman, I would have you again perform a similar ser- vice for me! Conceal yourself in my room to-night, so that I may be able still to prove that I never was alone for one moment, in a closed room, with Rumford!” “But, hi, honey, who gwine ask you to ’fend an’ prove any ting ’bout it?” “Venus, I have told you before that Iam a wife! It is of vital importance to me that my honor should be beyond suspicion. This night may see the last of my life. But, whether I live or die, Venus, I want you for a witness that I lived and died a pure woman! Now do you understand me?” “Yes, honey; an’ I don’t know how it is; I is sartain sure I is a great coward, but I feels as dough I was bounden to ’bey you! I ’spose it is de good spirit as you spoke of.” “That is it, Venus! There are angels all about us, to inspire and aid us, if we are good and true!” “An’ now, honey, what you want me to do in case ole marse should come in an’ be obstropolous? Take de poker an’ knock him down for dead?” “No, Venus; I do not even wish you to come out from your hiding place, or to run any personal risk whatever. I only wish you to remain on the watch, to see all that passes, and report of me, living or dead!” “Yes, honey; but same time, if ote marse do misbehave hisse’f, an’ I sees him, an’ de debil do get into me, which he is apt to do, I can’t be no ways sponsible for what 1 shall do! Knock ole marse brains out wid de poker, maybe, an’ den get hang up by de neck till I’m dead! An’ dere’s an end 0’ Wenus.” “There is no danger, my dear Venus. You will be on a holy duty, and will be protected from all temptation of the Evil One. And now, my dear wo- man, you had better not remain too long in my company, lest your presence should be observed, and it should ex- cite suspicion.” “Dat berry true! ’Sides which I got to do ole marse’s room, blame him!” said Venus, as she immediately left the parlor to perform this duty. CHAPTER XLV. Astrea had no duties to perform. She had not even the woman’s little solace, a work-box! The reader knows that all her personal effects had been left behind when she was abducted from the isle. And since that, she had no opportunity,.even had she possessed the desire, to procure working materi- als. There were books lying about on the parlor tables; but they were of that showy sort whose chief attraction lies in their gaudy bindings. Astrea, therefore, had no means of occupying herself, even had her mind not been se deeply preoccupied by the terrors of her impending fate. She wandered restlessly about the room. She went to the front windows | and looked out. They commanded a sunny Southern prospect of green sa- yannas, interspersed with groves of trees, and bounded on the distant hori- zon by the cypress swamp. It was the same country she had passed in her flight. Weary of this, she left the parlor and went into her own room, which she found already made tidy by the nim- ble fingers of Venus; and then, in the restlessness of her spirit, she left the room and walked out of the front door upon the front lawn. The moment she appeared, Rumford, who was walking up and down, smok- ing, took his pipe from his mouth, and gave a peculiar whistlé that brought the bloodhounds bounding to his side. He took them and led them straight up to Astrea, making them snuff her clothing, and then saying: “Good boys! pretty pups! her! watch her!” The dogs looked up intelligently and } wagged their tail “And now, Zora, id Rumford, turn- ing to his victim, “if you should be meditating another mad flight, let me tell you that it will be utterly impossi- ble for you to accomplish your design. These dogs would not permit you to} leave the premises. I would rather trust your safe-keeping to them than to an army of jailers. They are incor- ruptible guardia and not to be bribed, coxed or ghtened from their trust! So look out for yourself, my girl, for if you so much as attempt to escape they will be at your throat! And if I should not happen to be on watch hand to call them off, they may do you a serious mischief! So take care how you even walk upon the lawn. When you are tamed, my wild deer, and I can place confidence in you, then I will teach the dogs a different lesson and give you a larger liberty.” “T have no intention to escape in the way you think, Mr. Rumford! My fate is in the hands of God, who will deliv- er me from the spoiler!” said Astrea, with grave dignity, as she retreated into the house. She returned to her own room and sat down again at the window. Every- thing in the background was going on as before; the kitchen chimney still smoking furious old Cybele mov about among her pots and pan urn delving in the garden; the laundry maids busy on the bleaching green, and Venus coming out of the poultry yard with a basketful of new-laid eggs in one hand and a bunch of killed chickens in the other. These she car- ried to the kitchen door, and having given them into the hands of old Cy- bele, she turned about and ‘went into the garden, where she began gathering loads of flowers. Having filled her large apron as full as it could hold, she returned and entered the house by the back door. She paused at the door of Astrea’s chamber and, looking in, said: “What you think, honey?” “What?” demanded Astrea. “Ole marse gwine hab a roun’ dozen ob gemmen to dine long o’ him to-da: aroun’ dozen! An’ he nebber teil no- body nuffin’ ’bout it ‘till arter break- fas’ dis mornin’, an’ deed, arter he come out from talkin’ to you! Ole Aunt Cybele is mos’ druy to her wits’ ends! So much to de an’ so little time to do it in! But dat is jes’ ole mars he neber takes a ’sideration on to no- body’s feelin’s ’cept his own! Am ole Aunt Cybele she say how he’s eberlast- in’ - gwine on jes’ so! allus a dinin’ out or havin’ gemmen to dine ‘long 0” him! an’ a eatin’ an’ a drinkin’, an’ a stuffin’, an a boozin’ all de blessed night! But I know what gwine be de end ob it all! He get an appleplexy fit! an’ dat will be de end ob he! I see it all right afore me!” “What are you going to do with all those roses, Venus? They are very sweet,” said Astrea, who de loved flowers. “Hi, honey, ornamentate de dinin’ room an’ parlor wid ’em—which I must go an’ do it immediate, ‘cause arter I done dat, I got de china an’ cut glass an’ silver to see to, an ‘de table to set! De lors! hurryin’ a body up so, till dey don’t know whedder dey stan’s on dere heads or dere heels!” said Ve- nus, gathering up the corners of her flower-laden apron and preparing to go. “Let me help you, Venus. It will be a relief to me to do something to while away this tedious day, and [ used to take great pleasure in arranging flow- ers. I will arrange them all for you, if you please, and then you can go at something else,” said Astrea, kindly. “Well, honey, if you like to do it, sure I’m bery tankful to you; an’ "haps it may "muse your mind, too,” replied Venus, gratefully. Astrea immediately arose and ac- companied Venus to the dining room, where the load of flowers was emptied out upon the table, and where a pair of scissors, a pitcher of water, and a dozen or so of vases were placed. Astrea was soon congenially engaged in clipping and dressing the flowers and filling the vases. And in arrang- ing harmoniously tea roses, heliotropes, cape jasmines, geraniums and other beautiful and fragrant flowers. <As- trea almost forgot her miseries. Two hours passed in this way, and when she had placed the floral vases upon the chimney pieces and the tables of the dining room and parlor, poor, sim- ple Veuns was lost in admiration, which she vented as follows: “Well, chile! I has heerd tell ob de flower angels, an’ you mus’ be one 0” dem!” Astrea was betrayed into a smile at this enthusiastic compliment. “And now, Venus, as I find strength in being employed, I will assist you in arranging the dinner table,” she said. “Which 1 ’cepts your help, grateful, honey, ’count o’ your ex’lent taste! For dough I hates ole marse worse dan I do rank p’ison, still I wants to hab ebery ting done in a s’perior style, for de credit 0’ us colored people, long o” de strange gem’n.” Astrea, with a cheerfulness that sur- prised herself, went to work, and soon the dinner table was splendidily set forth, with its Sevres china service, its Bohemian glass tumblers, goblets and decanters, and its silver-gilt cutlery and spoons. A large and tasteful bou- quet of fragrant flowers occupied the center of the table. The admiration of Venus arose to ecstacy. She fairly clapped her hands apd crowed, seying: “Well, I neber see nuffin’ more ele- ganter dan dat, in all my born days, neber! An’ it’s all in de way you've ‘range it, honey! Won’t ole marse be *stonish? dat’s all!” “Qh, Venus, don’t name that evil) ’ man to me, ie I would 80 gladly forget his existence,” said Astrea, wildly. “Well, no more I won't, honey! low knows, I ain't no more fond o” talkin o’ him nor you are o” hearin’ 0° him; so ‘nuff said.” “And now, Venus, I have dor can for the present. When the ¥- is ready to be seryed, I will coy show you how to arrange the course properly. After that, you I cannot make my appearance, gentlemen will be in the dining room. I hope that Mr. Rumford will net ex- pect my attendance; for, if he does. I nly shall not come!” “O, Lor’, honey, you needn't be one Dit ‘feared. I tought 0’ dat myself. ¥ so I ax ole Aunt Cybele, anj she tell me how ole marse neber let May ob de women folks it on de table when he has gem’en to dinner; but allus mak Sam wait. An’ ‘specially, Aunty Cy- bele say, he would no more let you come in de sight o’ gen’en dan he would show a precious treasere to 2 gang o’ thieves. So you needn't be at all ‘feared for yourself, chile; you right dere! id Venus, confident “Thank heaven for that!” saift trea; ‘I shall have some pr hours of pi But, oh, Venus. night! to-nigh ou will not fail me “Hi, chile, ho ’tain’t likely as [ll be ides, which, honey. iff upper lip! Dis dinner it all de better for you! I I heerd tell of it. I ank de Lord! in de “fusion, I can slip away, an’ hide myself in de chile’s room, an’ nobody "q An’ den agin, ole marse in’ an’ boozin’ till mornin’, long o” de gem’en, an’ dey'll be tipsy eder, an’ so ole marse he'll forget all "bout de chile! Dere, now, don’t you see de *vantage, honey?” “I think you may be right, Venus; T hope to heaven you may be! One more day of respite would be a great bless- ing to me.” “Yes, honey; so it would. Ar’ now you go right straight to your own room, an’ sit down an’ rest yourself, while I goes n’ get you something to eat. me, neider, don’t mean to let ve, because ole marse gwine to jim-belung dinper party, an’ tell him so good!” Astre went to her own room, where Venus soon brought her luncheon. ‘The afternoon wore away. Lors knows, ole Aunt Cybele, nor you CHAPTER XLVI. About 6 o'clock in the evening the guests of Rumford began to arrive. At 7 dinner was placed upon the ta- ble. Astrea went, as she had promised, to assist Venus in arranging the first course, and then she retired for the evening to her own chamber, where Venus took eare to bring her tea in due son. An’ now, heney, you an’ me can sit down an’ be comformable togeder tag rest o’ de ebenin’. Ole Aunt Cybet she don’t know nuffin’ “tll "bont me bein’ ordered to go back to my lef” to- she won't ax arter me. An’ he an’ de oder s just gone to dere feed,” Venus, as, after having taken aw the tea service, she dragged in } iattress, and began toe spread it out underneath Astrea’s bedstead. “Poor Venus, you'll be half-smoth- ered under there,” said Astrea. ‘ot me, honey. Dere’s a good, cool draught; ‘sides wh long as gwine to keep de candle burnin’, it w be shady under dere, an’ keep off de *squitees, which dew little debbils is de torment of my life, an’ makes me wor’ “Well, my good woman, sat self! At least, you will be out of there,” “Honey,” said Venus, coming out from under the bed, and drawing miys- teriously near to Astrea, “honey you think?” “1 don’t know! What is it?” “Dere’s thirteen sinners set down to dat dinner table.” “Well, you told me there was a round dozen invited. Of course, Mr. Rum- ford makes the thirteenth.” “Yes; but, chile, take a ‘sideration on to it! thirteen sinners set down to one dinner table!” “Well, what of that? That is not a very large dinner party.” “But thirteen, honey; ‘sider dat!” “Well, I do; what of it?” “Lors,. chile, how your edicatio1 has been neglected im some things, to be sure! Now, I dessay as yo’ve larned a heap o” music, an’ paintin’, an’ dan in’, an’ singin’, an’ dat! but you has nebber larned what ’cerns you more to know.” “I certainly de not know what you mean, Venus.” “De lors, chile; don’t you know as when thirteen sinners sits down to one table, one o” the sinners is sartain sure to go to de debil afore thirteen days is over dere heads?” said Venus, in a low. mysterious whisper. “No; I mever knew that. It’s only a superstition, Venus,” replied Astrea. “Yes, honey; I dessay it’s a super strietion; but it’s truth, for all dat I nebber knew it to fail. No more did Aunt Cybele, or Uncle Sat’un, ole as dey bofe is—which dey said it dem- selves dis blessed ebenin’. An’ now you look out, honey; ‘fore a fortnight is over our heads, an’ dat is fourteen days, we hears ob a death! An’ it’s gwine to be o’ dem dere gem’en as is sittin’ boozin ’at dat dere table! May. be ole morse, for aught I know: an *deed, if it was, ’tain’t Wenus as would be ravin’ ’stracted crazy wid grief for his loss; I tell you dat, good!” “They are very noisy,” said cca as the sound of their reve! ear, “Lors, chile, dat ain’t nu “talk Not as I knows any ting "bo: ; but ole Aunt Cybele say, wait ti clo is drawn, an’ de wine put on tabie. will you? Den you tink ole Nick an all his imps done broke loose! Least- wise, so ole Aunt Cybele say, an’ she ecught to know. Why, it’s my belief as dat is de reason why ole marse married, ‘cause, you se, he knew r well how no wife would eber put ur long o’ such high-jim-be-lung goin’s on in de house! Listen to dat, now!” said Venus, indignantly, as the souné of wild revelry rolled in upon thei ears, —— To be continued. — ;