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The Hemlock Swamp, and, a season at the White Sulphur Springs

page: (Cover) [View Page (Cover) ]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page (Cover) THE HEMLOCK SWAMP, AND A SEASON AT THE WHTE SULPHUR SPRINGS. page: (TitlePage) [View Page (TitlePage) ]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page (TitlePage) THE HEMLOCK SWAMP, AND A SEASON AT THE WHTE SULPHUR SPRINGS. BY ELSIE LEIGH WHTTLESEY, AUTHOR OF ' H9LEN RTHNGER, - "WHO WAS SHE, "CASTLES I SPAIN," ETC., -BTC PHLADELPHA: - CLAXTON, REMSEN & HAFFELFINGER, 624, 626 a 628 MARKET STREET. 1873. - page: 0-vii[View Page 0-vii]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 0-vii Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1873, by CLAXTON, REMSEN & HAFFELFINGER, in the Oftice of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. STEREOTYED BV J. PAGAN & SON, PHLADELPHA. In Westminster Abbey, surrounded by England's mighty dead, the stranger is shown a little space in that place of sceptred tombs where rested for two weeks in the tenderest honor the earthly remains of George Peabody; loved and mourned by-' two nations, for his good works did live after him. And to George Peabody's lzfelong friend, so like him in' deeds of large-hearted charities and beneficent gifts; the generous patron of art and education, and who hath remembered with a free and liberal hand the widow and the orphan, WILLIAM W. CORCORAN, of Washingtan, I dedicate with the sincerest respect and gratitude this unpretending little volume. E. L. W. page: viii-ix (Table of Contents) [View Page viii-ix (Table of Contents) ]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page viii-ix (Table of Contents) CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. PAC, OUR FIRST TRIBULATION . . . . . . .13 CHAPTER II. , WE DISCUSS OUR CHRISTMAS PRESENT . . . . 22. CHAPTER III. "TTLE BROTHER . . . . . . , . 36 CHAPTER IV. SIMON POST . . . . .. 43 CHAPTER V. IN THE GARRET . . . . . . . . .49 CHAPTER VI. TREASON . . . . .53 CHAPTER VII. THE BURGLARY OF THE BANK . . . . . . 66 CHAPTER VIII. MY ARRAIGNMENT . . . . . " CHAPTER IX, Two OFFERS . . . . 87 ix page: x (Table of Contents) -xi (Table of Contents) [View Page x (Table of Contents) -xi (Table of Contents) ]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page x (Table of Contents) -xi (Table of Contents) CONTENTS. CHAPTER X. PAGN A FATEFUL CHRISTMAS MORNING .. 97 CHAPTER XI. A GHOST IN THE HEMLOCK SWAMP . . . 4 CHAPTER XII. SIMON SHOWS HS HAND . . CHAPTER XIII. I; MAKE A CONFIDANTE OF AUNT EUNICE. . . 127 CHAPTER- XIV. I DISCOVER THE MURDERER OF BURRILL OTLEY . .136 CHAPTER XV. AUNT EUNICE STARTLES ,THE HOUSEHOLD. . . 41 CHAPTER XVI. ' . MKS. FOLGER BEWAILS MY TREATMENT OF SIMON . .144 CHAPTER XVII. KEZIAH EXECUTES A ASTONISHNG FLANK MOVEMENT .148 CHAPTER -XVIII. MRS. JUDGE EDGERTON . . 153 CHAPTER XIX. SAVANNAf 58 CHAPTER XX. "TERARY BARNACLES . - . CONTENTS. xi - CHAPTER XXI. PAG, AT THE WHTE SULPHUR SPRINGS .. CHAPTER XXII. WE ARE DOMCILED IN A COTTAGE . . .76 CHAPTER XXIII. WHAT SHALL I DO? .. . . - 187 CHAPTER- XXIV, MRS. CRAIG RICHTON ...... . 94 CHAPTER XXV. A DANGEROUS RIDE . . . . . . 7 197 CHAPTER XXVI. MASTER AND MAN . . . . . . . .217 -CHAPTER XXVII. FACE TO FACE ... .23 CHAPTER XXVIII. T BTE , ? t IT IS BETTE R SO . . . . . . . . 3 r7 page: xii-13[View Page xii-13]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page xii-13 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. CHAPTER I. OUR FIRST TRIBULATION. IT was a long low belt of densely wooded land, extend' ing half a mile or more along the eastern boundary of my father's farm, and all my life those sombre, indeciduous tree-tops had been to me a never tiring wonder and mystery.' From my little chamber-window, which overlooked the whole range of eastern boundary, morning, noon, and night, summer and winter, they were the first and last objects my eyes behelA ; and, for the reason that they were closely associated with all my youthful joys and sorrows, I came to : regard them in a strange sort of childish love and awe quite different from that which othertrees awakened in me. Correctly speaking, it could not he termed a swampo: since it never approached anything like a marsh, excep:i during the season of-protracted fall and spring rains, when the lower portion, "adjoining a wet, boggy meadow, became submerged; but from time immemorial it had been called a swamp, and for miles around was known by no other namfe. It was really a forest of pine and cypress, over- crowned and dwarfed by the fat greater growth of monster hemlocks; and year after year, to my infinite tiiration, page: 14-15[View Page 14-15]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 14-15 " THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. the majestic old winter kings laughed at frost and snow and furiously driving winds. Dressed in their dull, dense win- ter green, they sturdily defied the howling blast that played such relentless havoc with the tender foliage of the grove, and cared not a whit for old Boreas, let him rave as he might. - The cold of December invariably passed the rugged old hemlocks lightly, scarcely changing a tint or marring a twig, and left them to the grim solitude and brooding si- lence so grateful to rabbits and partridges when the ground is covered with snow, and icy winds have pitilessly stripped bare the higher mountain-trees that in summer afforded them a safe and luxurious shelter;--a fierce, searching, un- compromising wind, that shrieks along the frozen earth on purpose to chill hungry little animals who unwisely attempt finding food and warm lodgings on the barren heights. To the rabbits and partridges, therefore, the hemlock swamp was a perfect paradise and a gladly sought winter retreat, where they might live in comfort, with nothing to dread but the murderous gun and trap of the sportsman. There were only two of us, my brother Archie and myself, and,we had no mother. She died when I was seven and Archie eight, just one- little year between us; and we loved each other- dearly. The day she died, and the day she was buried, were both signalled by a particularly gloomy visit to the hemlocks. We came back from the funeral, and went there for mutual consolation in our sudden grief, that was so difficult for us to understand or be reconciled to. Although so young, I remember that walk distinctly, and how tall the trees looked through our blinding tears. They had never seemed of such a mournful aspect before, and nodded their great mobile branches down to us, as if striving to tell of that beautiful heaven where some one had told us our mo- ther had gone. We thought it very cruel of her to leave us while we were yet so little, and very cruel of the angels to take her away, however lovely heaven might be. T . THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. I We knew every intricate winding and circling path con- tinually intersecting and diverging everywhere through the swamp, and were not a bit afraid of the solemn tree-twilight and hush that always pervaded the place. It was summer then, and the tender sweet birch, growing in smooth slender beauty along the way, gave a pleasant spicy breath to the atmosphere, and with it mingled a delicious balsamic fra- grance of pine and cedar. The various shades of green were softened by clumps of laurel, the delicate pale yellow of its blossoms half hidden, and clusters of ivy odorous with its burden of dainty rose-white flowers, the perfume of which followed our footsteps like a sweet, subtile incense scattered by an unseen hand. But we passed by all this beauty of leaf and flower unnoticed. Our hearts were too full of our great sorrow, and we left them untouched. Winter greens, tender and toothsome, temptingly peered from thick car- pets of moss; bloom-laden earth-vines, and queer -relics of last year's dry vegetation, shared the same fate. For the first time within my recollection the husky pine-cones did not lure our prurient fingers, and we took no heed of the curious gray-white, pink-lined "toad-stools" (the only name we then knew for those parasitical mushrooms) that so saucily stood themselves upon everything that had a rich- ness of woody decay about it. We had no greeting for any of our old delights. We could only think of that deep, dark grave in the church-yard, and the long shining coffin that filled it, and the pale sunken face of our mother we had seen shut under its cold, polished lid forever. And for many days thereafter the hemlocks continued to wave at us through sorrowful child-tears that blurred our -eyes unbid- denj and forbade the old-time boisterous glee. But in a few weeks the sad picture of bereavement began to grow dim, the banished laugh returned, and the broken-hearted tears dried up; for we were children, and the dear mother we had iost lay quiet in her grave, too far away to hear our page: 16-17[View Page 16-17]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 16-17 i6 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. call, too long absent to keep her memory from fading out of our young minds. So summer became autumn, and fierce storms commenced their winter battle with the tough limbs of the hemlocks, and the rabbits and quails and partridges sensibly betook themselves to snug winter-quarters in the midst of a cedar thicket, or crept comfortably into a soft nest of russet leaves ; in the heart of a friendly laurel-bush, overshadowed by splendid evergreen trees, and where the luscious black birch and seedy moss and simple bark-worms prodigally abounded. It was Christmas morning, four years ago since our mother died, and during that time Archie, now a stout lad of twelve, had successfully acquainted me with the mystery and science of making, baiting, and setting box rabbit-traps, a system of hunting quite popular with country boys in the winter season, and the especial delight of Archie. I confess, I took to the sport kindly, and my initiation aAid subsequent knowl- edge of the business thoroughly satisfied my brother as well as myself,- that nature ought to have made me a boy instead of a girl, to whom such amusements are termed out of place. This eventful Christmas morning we set out to visit our traps rather depressed in spirits, and our minds filled with -the most dismal forebodings. There had been a light fall of snow during the night, and never did small tracks appear more wretched and lonesome than those our feet left behind us. Archie, in his thick boots, and low round cap drawn tightly over his ears, and I with my little red hood tied close under my chin; and-muffled and melancholy we trudged along side 'by side, our warmly mittened hands affectionately clasped together, and our nimble legs rapidly diminishing the distance between us and the welcome duskiness of the hemlocks. Part of the way led through a fine orchard. A few withered apples yet clung to the leafless boughs, which THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. the autumn had bent with mellow plenty, .and they looked very lonely, tossing up and down in the chill breeze. Over two high fences and a troublesome stonewall, where my dress in time past had often come to grief, then across a verdureless pasture lot, and we had reached the bit of marshy land, where, in happier days, it was such fun to slide and tumble of a bright winter morning among the bogs and scraggy alders. The frozen surface of the shallow pools was indentured here and there by tall water-flags and supple "pussy-willows," stubbornly pushing their way through the ice, and all a-sparkle with the frost. So on we went, hand in hand, at a'brisk trot, neither of us speaking a word; it was too cold for conversation, had we the surplus breath to spare. It was all we could do to keep our equili- brium when crossing the icy places, which, on account of being thinly covered by the recently fallen snow, were doubly treacherous. Having gained the opposite side of the marsh in safety, we hurried along beyond the group of shivering sugar-maples on the hill, and a lively scamper across the corner of a buckwheat stubble brought us panting and out'of breath to the hemlocks. We entered the dark labyrinth of trees by the familiar path often traversed before, but never with so heavy a heart, and were very glad to gain the warmer latitude of the swamp. It was vastly more down from the motionless branches on our ruddy, frost- pinched cheeks like a cold, uncertain mist. Notwithstand- ing it was so still below, there was a mournful roaring sound ceaselessly going on overhead, like the distant murmur of the sea,s a far away plaint as of restless w aves breaking on a deso late shore, or the nameless song of an ocean-shell Pice cheslk a cod-netinms N page: 18-19[View Page 18-19]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 18-19 8 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. imprisoning, as it always seemed to me, some strange, un- quiet spirit that is forever seeking, but ever in vain, to tell its trouble to human ears. There were the pines softly sighing, the solemn cypress statuesquely calm, and above all, the towering old hemlocks, not a leaf stirring apparently, yet constantly keeping up that hovering, mystical moan. How well I remember their sweet, low whisper, and perfect stillness that reigned beneath their lofty tops! I was a child then. I am a woman now, but I have never discovered the secret of that peculiar tree-melody, and it is still a wonder to me as great and unexplained as when I listened to their music years ago. The fragrant black-birch, as far up as hungry little rab- bits could reach, assisted by the utmost elasticity of hind legs and a clamoring appetite, had been cleanly gnawed in a real workmanlike manner. The numerous fresh traces of rodent teeth marking the way was accounted a good sign by Archie, and he predicted that we should find no empty traps; which prediction proved correct, to the somewhat elevation of his spirit and a like mitigation of my own despondency. He had full a dozen traps artfully set in different parts of the Swamp, and the first one we came to was nicely secreted in a covert of hardy laurel at the foot of a huge hemlock. It was a rough, clumsy board box, with a spring door that shut the moment the game touched the bait; and it looked its fatal purpose so plainly that only a simple rabbit would be fool enough to unsuspectingly enter it. The long jumps and narrow tracks left in the scanty blotches of snow in the vicinity of the rude trap were sagaciously noted by Archie, and he said, with a boy's wonted eagerness in such success- ful moments, "It's sprung!" which brief remark of course referred to the clumsy box, looking grim death from the hastily parted brown twigs of the laurel-bush. He hauled it out, gave a satisfied glance at the shrinking captive within, THE HEMLOCK SWAMP.' 19 and with it before him, sat down on the great crooked root of the hemlock, which was almost entirely out of the ground and bowed up in such a way as to induce one to believe nature had purposely intended it for a comfortable seat and guided its strong growth for no other reason.. I helped myself to a seat beside him,-there was ample room;for two,--and compassionately looked at the trap. It con- tained a fine specimen of the timid-hearted creatures, crouch- ing on its trembling form at the far end, in a state of intense fright,- the large, mild eyes staring fixedly in terror, and its little palpitating body drawn up into'a heap, as com- pletely contracted and quaking as ever a terrified animal could be. That great coward gaze fastened on my harmless red hood in a hush of still, winkless fear; and well it might, for the uncouth box wa s morally his Bastile and we his piti- less jailers. It was fun and victory to catch rabbits, --Archie and I both agreed to that,-but it was dreadful to kill them when caught alive'and perfectly unhurt, as this sort of rustic trap always left them on our hands; and no amount of prac- tical experience could quite harden or reconcile Archie's conscience to coolly breaking their gentle necks, or mine in passively standing y and seeing it done. To avoid this disagreeable duty, necessarily required before rabbits can be humanly eaten, Archie's favorite method of bringing about the desired result without engendering any undue compunction of conscience, was to forcibly kick over the box and trust to the sudden violent concussion to do the deadly work, which it generally did; antd we came to con- sider this equivocal modi of death as being infinitely more merciful than deliberate neok-breaking. Sometimes, in a moment of more than ordinary pity, I would slyly contrive to let the poor little trembler go. My reprehensible con- duct was certain to be severely censured by Archie, and the act sternly condemned, with orders never to repeat it, which order I was sure to forget and he sure to forgive as often as page: 20-21[View Page 20-21]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 20-21 20 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. the transgression occurred; for in his heart he really did not care so much, and was secretly glad to see-them scam- per away after the triumph of capture had been enjoyed. It looked magnanimious; it was the magnanimity of a con- queror who could afford tobe generous, and Archie always took care to appreciate his personal virtues and cultivate a good opinion of himself. There it sat, staring its big astonished eyes at us,-- two ghoulish beings as-we must have appeared to it, --and shak- ing all over as if a score of ague chills had taken posses- sion of its wretched little body, the violent pulsations of the little creature's breathing apparatus visibly attesting the intensity of its terror. "A nice one," said Archie, viewing it thoughtfully, and looking wise, pleased, and solemn all; at once. A treble expression of countenance produced by the three antago- nistic reflections occupying his mind at the moment. ' Wise, because estimating the goodly size of his game, pleased be- cause of his success in capturing it, and solemn because of the unexpected knowledge last. night had brought to us, and with it a keen remembrance of our dead mother, and a re- bellious renewal of our child-tears and sorrows,--a sorrow that youth had' not long pressed home to our hearts, and time had. kindly softened into a sad, far back dream of early childhood. It was a rude, jealous awaking of our tenderest ;filial love, and we made it the strong pretext of our united dislike, and then and there mutually resolved to , never pay fealty to a usurping mother either in affection or name, or in any way-offer dutiful tribute to our- father's new wife. And so determined, Archie reflectively wiped his nose on'tie back of his blue yarn mitten, after the fashion of boys hen that important member has been for some time exposed to th stinging air of a frosty December morning; and said, sharp as the frigid atmosphere: "I know I 'll never like her." THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 2I "Nor I--that is, not much," said I, beginning boldly, but ending rather more discreetly than I had at first in- tended.' "I shan't any," fiercely asserted Archie, scorning to qualify lh flat decision, and still tenderly applying the mitten. "Ain't women who have turned-up noses always mean, giving his own an extra severe wipe by way of em- phasis, -I ain't they all-fired cross, and plaguy snarl dogs for temper?" "I guess so," I replied, acquiescingly. "There is Lucy Casey's mother-her nose turns up, and' she slaps Lucy awful hard. Lucy told me she did; and I have seen her do it myself," gratuitously adding my own testimony, conscious that Archie might take the liberty of doubting poor Lucy's word. "And don't hern turn up?" "Yes," said I, calculatingly exploring the moss and dry leaves at my feet, a little dubious of the nasal altitude of the disdainfully emphasized hern." "Not so high as Lucy's mother's, though," I hastened to add, thinking to mollify his anger. "I know it does, every bit; and she is fixing to be ugly as all-possessed, you see now. A regular scold, tonguy, and tantrammy as she can be, and venting it all out on us. And it ain't Lucy's mother who cuffs her around either, any more than this one is ours. It's her step-mother," said Archie, bitterly. The withering tone in which he spoke silenced me, and I continued to roll a dry black pine-cone under my foot without daring to venture another conciliating remark. I pressed the cone into the fine soft moss until it was,quite out of sight, and we both looked at the spot where it had disappeared with a sorely troubled gaze. page: 22-23[View Page 22-23]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 22-23 22 ' THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. CHAPTER II. WE DISCUSS OUR CHRISTMAS PRESENT. T HE personal pronoun so uncivilly alluded to by Archie referred to our step-mother. We had one at last; I presume the neighbors had all along. been predicting it, with that wise melancholy shake of the head, and cautiously whispered unction/ so characteristic of coun- try people when so palatable a bit of gossip is going the rounds of village comment. IDames and maidens, young and old, unanimously agreed in voting Mr. Archibald Folger a model widower and the most affectionate of fathers, be- cause he had refrained from presenting us with one before. They declared few men would have been so considerate. They would have married as soon as the year of crape hat- band had expired, and given very little thought to the poor children. And it was this thoughtful forbearance on the part of Mr. Folger which won for him the good opinion- of all the Litchfield ladies, and bestowed on him the well deserved title of the model widower and devoted father. But the village whispers did not reach our ears. We never thought of our father in the character of a model widower, nor' could we see any reason why he'should ever marry again, and the hints and knowingly elevated brows of per- spicuous neighbors were enigmas to us. Archie and I, being so entirely in the dark, were completely taken by surprise, and our wonder and dismay was great. The personal pronoun of our present tribulation and rapidly growing dislike swooped-down upon us unawares in the midst of the anticipated good cheer and jollity of the Christmas holidays, and put to sudden flight our cherished dreams of extra goodies, and enlarged freedom of tongue and feet. THE HEMLOCK SWAMPF 23 She came on Christmas eve, just at Sundown, while a cold glimmer of daylight yet reflected saffron-hued in the west; a very unauspicious time, we thought, iand one we were not soon to forget. For an hour we had been standing at the window, im- patiently awaiting the return of father, who that morning, in a remarkably happy mood, had promised us a rare Christmas present when he came home at night. Which promise so increased our elastic expectations through the day, that by sunset we were in a high state of excitement and elated unrest. Our hopes were so magnified and our impatience so great, that we feared the short winter twilight would never come, and we declared fifty times over that it was the longest day ever known, and, never did the hours pass so slowly within our remembrance. Before it was fairly dark, our glowing anticipations of something alto- gether superb had reached the climax of youthful imagi- nation. Mine centred on a splendid doll, with china blue eyes that would open and shut, -and a concealed wire some- where in its breast to make it cry; and Archie's hopes cul- minated around a magnificent pair of rocker skates, such as had. never been seen by any boy or girl in the village, and could cut such fanciful curves and letters and circles as the frozen surface of Litchfield pond had never before depicted. j Thoughts of these surpassing delights glued our faces to the window-panes in an anxious strain of ears and eyes, and our pleasureful hearts beating quick and loud from the intense concentration of soon to be gratified expectancy. And through it all we never once suspected what made dear old Aunt Eunice look at us so pityingly, and keep muttering to herself, and shut her lips firmly, as if to repress some bitter words, every time she saw us run to the window. At last we heard 'the swift hoofs of Messenger pelting fast and hard along the snowy road. On they came at a gallant stride, clattering true and regular above the music of the bells and the quick thumping of our hearts. page: 24-25[View Page 24-25]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 24-25 24 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP-. We had often noticed, of late, how very particular father was getting concerning the brush of his hair, the cut of his whiskers, and the fit of his coat; and he was frequently from home, without explaining his absence; especially were'his evenings devoted to society other than ours, and he did not take as much notice of us as formerly. He said he had no time; he was very busy; we were too big to .be made babies of now; and our honest, unsuspecting child-faith believed him. Then he bought a new sleigh, and white robes, and silver-toned bells, and kept Messenger sleek and'gay to do honor to his stylish turnout. All of which useless extravagance was sternly frowned upon by plain, matter-of-fact Aunt Eunice, and ominous were her self-communings thereon. The sleigh drew. up to the gate, and bump, bump went our hearts, in a glad tumult of pleas- ure, and then down, down they fell in a sad throb of vague disappointment; for we saw a bonnet, surmounted by a green veil, obtruding from the muffling white robes, and that bonnet and green veil were reclining very near father's broad shoulder with a certain have-a-right air which made the proximity anything but a pleasant sight to us. Instinc- tively, a resentful feeling took the place of the happy anxiety of the moment before, --a strange;' hurt, angry sense of being cruelly wronged, and a deep-down sacred spot in my breast, dear and holy to my mother's memory, seemed being ruthlessly desecrated at the sight of that portentous bonnet and veil, and I could see the same sentiment strug- gling in Archie's handsome face. His soft hazel eyes, full and tender like our mother's, were large with surprise and undefined alarm, and his boyish chin tried in vain to hide the tremulous quiver that would creep to his lips, as well as mine. Gone was the recent exalted vision of crying dolls' and rocker-skates; gone the holiday goodies and games; gone-the sweet sanctity that once encircled our dead mother's grave and. hallowed the name of father. This woman had THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 25 banished it all, and involuntarily we shrank from the win- dow as if our martyrdom had already commenced, and the piteous calamity of our darkened childhood already upon us. I looked questioningly at Archie, and he wistfully at me, and then our eyes went for explanation towards Aunt , Eunice, who was stoically knitting in the ruddy glow of the cheerful wood fire-light. But she kept her gaze fixedly bent on the shining needles that flew with uncommon briskness, and a spiteful click, click, at every stitch, quite unlike the good soul's usually placid manner. She was in a very defiant humor, that was certain, and her lips were shut so'tightly that the unfamiliar pressure laid a grim wrinkle at the cor- ners of her mouth, and gave her an austere and forbidding countenance indeed, to meet the reclining owner of the green veil. Aunt Eunice did not wait to do anything of the kind, however, and was far from feeling. the least civil, or caring how unamiably her features betrayed her thoughts, or what impression her evident sour temper might produce on anybody. She just snapped the -needles together, heed- less of the seam she was generally so particular about, and stalked out of the room in a way, we thought perfectly incomprehensible, muttering as she started for the kitchen and banged to the door: "She's with him,- I suppose!" with which ungracious remark she disappeared, leaving us more than ever mys- tified. The admiration we had. for the bells and the robes and the sleigh, and fleet-footed bonny brown Messenger, were all forgotten in the greater dread and amazement we experi- enced regarding the lady father was tenderly helping into the house, as carefully as if she was made of the frailest kind of wax, and could not possibly take a step unassisted. We crept to the dimmest fire-lit corner and timidly sat down, I on a little stool drawn close to Archie's chair, and both of us, despite the disturbed state of our mind, clearly sensible of 3 page: 26-27[View Page 26-27]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 26-27 26 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. the propriety of being well-behaved, and at our proper best, since we were to have company, and, therefore, expected to be uncommonly good children. It was now quite dark, and no light in the room save that of the dancing flames leaping cheerily up the chimney and flickering a merry, unsteady brightness across the carpet and along the wall. She came in like one having absolute authority, and father helped her off with her numerous wrappings, looking so wonderfully kind and so anxiously attentive, that, somehow, child as I was, it made me angrily jealous, and I bitterly asked myself if that was the way he had once been fond -of my mother. The poor little mound out under the snow, where she slept, cold and alone, heihad ceased to remember; but we, her children, whom in life she so tenderly loved, had not forgotten. Her dust was still dear, and between it and our hearts this woman could never come. But we were too young to entirely understand our own feelings at the time, and continued to stare at the new-comer in unmitigated resentfulness and curiosity, I gave Archie a sympathetic nudge, and -he nudged me back again, looking a queer, con- fused intelligence at the two happy beings at the opposite side of the room, who did not think it worth while to notice us, although one was our father, and the other -we did not know who she was. I felt something swelling in my throat, and I believe Archie did too, for he kept swallowing quite as hard as I did, and wriggled uneasily in his chair as if he found- its occupancy very uncomfortable. Presently, she came and stood before the fire, holding her hands towards the cheery blaze, and softly rubbing them together in a purring, feline manner that I did not like. There was covert triumph in the act of no pleasapt kind, and she looked over our lowered heads-as coolly indifferent of our presence as if we were of no more consequence than the Maltese cat curled upon the rug at her feet. After a little, father seemed to -recollect that we were yet so unfor- ra THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. * t tunate as to be in existence, and turned to the uninterested lady, with a deprecating gesture, as if he very much deplored the fact. "Matilda, these are the children I told you about. Archie, this is the Christmas present I promised you--a beautiful new mamma. Shake hands with her, and let her ever find you a dutiful and obedient son. Come, Eveleen, can't you give her a kiss and a daughter's welcome, for this lady is now your mother." I tried to obey, but I could not do it. Mother! I could not utter the name. The word stuck in my throat, and I waited for my brother to reply. Archie made no motion to offer his hand, and looked up at her in a mute denial of her right to ask of him filial love and obedience. Fearful lest his silence should give mortal offence at the outset, I thought it best to appear a trifle more yielding, and awkwardly reached out my hand. She took it in a lank listless grasp, that was like the slow, cold motion of a lazy snake, and I quickly drew it away to the better loved company of Archie's knee. She did not fail to remark the hasty action, a'nd deliberately turned her back, as if a very disagreeable for- reality were well rid of. She was a rather pretty woman of twenty-five, with light blue eyes, and light hair and light brows, and a nose slightly inclined upward. There was nothing handsome about her, nothing ugly, and no marked expression save the cat-like quiet of her movements, and that purr of stealthy triumph. She was one of the five sandy-haired daughters of Eben Post, a worthy citizen residing fifteen miles to the north of Litchfield, and who rejoiced in the possession of twelve healthy olive-branches, several of whom were married and industriously engaged in rearing olive-branches of their own. Fate decreed that Matilda, the fourth daughter, should be- come Mrs. Folger; and here she was, with all her bridal honors thick upon her, claiming to be our mother. What a fable! Ou?) mother?- never 1 page: 28-29[View Page 28-29]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 28-29 ,e8 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. - As I said before, Archie, strongly resembled his mother, and the one careless glance she gave him- taught me that he would never be a favorite with Matilda. She was not the woman to forgive him the fault of having features like those of Mr. Folger's first wife, and privately hated him even be- fore she -had ever heard the sound of his voice ) and I think the dislike was mutual. "About Simon's age, I should say," she languidly re- marked, slightly nodding her head in Archie's direction. "Two years younger, dearest; but Archie is stout for his age," said father, in reply, tenderly putting his arm about the lady's sympathetic waist, and fondly drawing her to him, as if the world contained only Matilda. And the two, standing in lover-like attitude between us and the cheerful fire, quite shut the merry light away from Archie and myself. We were beyond it; and under that roof, the dear old place where our mother had lived and died, and where we were born, we were never again to revel in the love-light of home. The shadow was on the hearth, and it no longer had a brightness and warmth for us. We were exiled... Not caring to endure a repetition of Mrs. Folger's'frigid notice, or to hear more of their cooing conversation, we cautiously slipped from the room, Archie quietly sideling out -around by the sofd, and I by the centre-table, the crim- son cover of which I pulled askew in my noiseless flight, and did not stop to straighten, for I already feared the pale eyes of Matilda, and looked with mistrust upon her placid purr. So we left Mr, Folger (he was always Mr. Folger to, me' after that night) and his blonde bride to the pleasant home fireside and their blissful endearments, and beat a rapid retreat to the kitchen, where we found Aunt Eunice emphat- ically Stating to Keziah, her colored "help," that she would n't budge an inch out of that kitchen to dance attend- ance on anybody,;-- no; not if she were the queen of Eng- -laid, and had ridden twice fifteen miles, and the weather THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 29 were many degrees colder than this contemptible twenty- fifth day of Decepber, of a year she should always consider the saddest of-her life. But if Keziah wanted to wait on her, she -might. A man married once was married enough, and she would just as lief tell some people so to their face as not. Keziah rolled up her eyes disparagingly, confident that hard times were in store for all concerned, and truly la- mented the day that Miss Matilda became Mrs. Folger, and her mistress. , In addition to the forcible language with which Aunt Eunice was freeing herself, she was making doughnuts. It was a favorite employment of hers when especially put out, and I knew she was dreadfully upset when I entered and v saw her floury hands and- the pastry operations going on. "Mince-pies and doughnuts should always be made in the evening," Aunt Eunice said; they wore never fit to eat otherwise, and it was just the occupation for a winter night, when the fire burned cheerily and the kitchen was warm and clean and quiet. So when the soul of Aunt Eunice was angered or troubled, she invariably sought consolation in her flour-bowl and rolling-pin, and never without finding comfort and solace in the task. And here she was, this event- ful night, displaying a terrible doughnut humor, stepping high and bringing down each fo6t with a severe precision as she marched back and forth from the stove to the pastry- table and from the pastry-table to the stove, testing the lard to'see if it was hot enough, and moulding and pinching and twisting, the pliant dough into all manner of funny shapes, as she no doubt would have liked to twist the tender neck of Matilda. It was a mood not to be trifled with, and one we held in high respect, for we regarded it as the silent ex- pression of our good aunt's utmost displeasure. The pale-haired lady in the sitting-room was the cause of all this perturbation of mind on the part of Aunt Eunice, page: 30-31[View Page 30-31]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 30-31 30 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. and we were glad to discover that her indignation exceeded ours, and was far more potent. She had long suspected her -brother-in-law's marital intentions, and now when her. sus- picions had become a grievous reality, she felt herself and her dead sister's children mortally injured, and at the mercy of the new wife Mr. Folger had-been pleased to bring home. She was ready in spirit to declare immediate war, but, thoughtful and forbearing for our sake, she refrained from open hostilities, and stood rather on the defensive than the aggressive. "You poor dears," said she, addressing us in a deeply sympathetic tone. "I feel to the bottom of my heart for you. I knew how it would be; a man at his time of life fixing himself up like a dandy, and trving to look smart. No good ever comes of it. And the I ew bells and the sleigh, with all the rest of his stylish rubbish; and she, and all her family, as poor as:Job's turkey. The old bells and pung, that was, good enough for your mother,- a sweet, gentle creature,'and every bit a lady,-was not good enough for Madam Matilda.- Oh, no: she must be pampered, and my sister's children given the cold shoulder." "Will she always stay here after to-night, Aunt Eunice? won't she never go away?"I asked, vaguely hoping that the answer would be in the negative. -' Bless you, dear innocent, no! She is a Post that is set here for the rest of her days, and she looks like a long-lived one at that. But I am on your side, and there will be some little restraint upon her while I amn around, else my name is not Eunice Daly," said she, dusting the flour from her hands with vigor, and bestowing on each of us a kiss of protection. Those pale blue eyes, thin lips, and that skyward nose to be always with us, morning, noon, and night, Sunday, and week-day, year after year, until we should die, was a wretch. edly depressing thought, and I followed Archie to the stove, THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 31 where he stood dejected and resentful, absently watching the white lard gradually succumb to the heat, sadly regretting that it should take so long a time for little boys and girls to become independent men and women. Presently Archie looked up and said, with ironical bitterness: "Well, that is a mighty fine Christmas present. She 's a precious pretty pair of skates to reckon on. And your lovely doll, Eveleen; you will have to take it out in ' beau- tiful new mamma.'" "Please don't say anything about the doll, Archie; I meant to show it to Lucy to-morrow, and let her see the wire, and its shoes; but now I can't, and I am so disap. pointed! The worst of it all is her coming: I mind that the most, for father will never again love us as he used to do." I could hardly keep the tears back, or the quivering of my lips from stealing into the whispered words I found it so difficult to utter. Aunt Eunice here made the laudable-attempt to be con- soling, but the effort was a failure, for she was only sar- castic. "Perhaps you may like her better after you are more acquainted. First impressions are not always to be relied upon, they say, though I can't affirm it from personal ex- perience. She may turn out more kind and peaceable than we think, and when we get accustomed to seeing her around, it won't be so galling as it seems now." Aunt Eunice, in contradiction of this amiable sentiment, gave the bit of dough she was twisting into fanciful form a spiteful jerk, and dropped it into the hot "fat " with more energy than was altogether necessary. Archie shook his head doubtingly, and watched the light, white dough swell up and brown, in' abstracted unbelief of his ever liking his father's second wife. "I am thinking, Aunt-Eunice, tiiat after to-night we will page: 32-33[View Page 32-33]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 32-33 32 - THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. get fewer doughnuts. May I take one.? They look and smell so nice," said he, glancing longingly at the pan half fullI on the table, and quite sensible of a yearning appetite in the midst of his afflictions. ,c Certainly, dear, help yourself; and you too, Eva. You may well say fewer cakes after to-day. But for you, my things would go out of this house to-morrow, and never enter it again, -that is what I thought to do when I first came to know what was in the wind,--but I'll hold on a little for your sake. I am surprised at Archibald Folger,- and he with children in their teens! I only hope he won't rue it, that's all. But men, and especially widowers, will play the fool. Here, Archie, take another cake, if you like- a cold one at the bottom of the pan; it won't be so apt to make you sick. The supply shan't be cut off this night, any way!" concluded the dear old lady, with a lofty display of authority mingled with affection for us, and a thrust of censure towards the absent Mr. Folger. Archie was wonderfully emboldened by her unusual gen- erosity, and the invitation to help himself was eagerly com- plied with. Besides, it encouraged him to ask another and far greater indulgence. "May I'drop one in, aunty? I 'd like to, ever so much," said he, in a coaxing voice that went straight to the heart tI of Aunt Eunice. Archie was soliciting an extraordinary favor; for aunt was very particular about permitting any- body to interfere with her cake-frying. It was so funny to see them bounce up and down, and grow plump, in the boil- ing lard bubbling around them, and bobbing along the edge of the kettle as if making a frantic effort to escape. Aunt Eunice could not deny us anything this unhappy evening, and benignly replied, indulgent from the misfortune that had befallen us: "Y-es, Archie, you may help, if you will be careful and not get a drop of grease on the floor," !, / ' THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 33 Archie instantly availed himself of the gracious permis- sion, and dropped them in one after the other, until six lumps of dough were dancing in the sputtering hot liquid. My share in the amusement was to turn them over with a long; handled fork, and we both burst out laughing, in spite of our wrongs, to see them jump and hiss and hop, and madly try to get away, from the seething contents of the kettle. Aunt Eunice smiled grimly when she saw how thoroughly we were enjoying ourselves, - utterly forgetful. of pale-eyed Matilda in the adjoining room, -and Keziah drew a dismally long breath, meant for a sigh; and both- smile and sigh were expressive of unspoken pity for our simple innocence in not divining how out of place was our careless "mirth. I remember she sent us to bed with great - tenderness that night, and came and kissed us both after we were snugly tucked under the covers. So we went to sleep quite contentedly, and resolutely put our blonde step-mother out of our thoughts and out of our dreams. But it all came back in the morning, and with redoubled force. Matilda sat at the head of the breakfast-jtable and poured out the coffee; Aunt Eunice sat stolidly at;the foot and was-sternly dumb ; father carved the ham delicately, and helped us each to toast and a boiled egg; but he,had only eyes and voice; for Ma- tilda. I could not eat, neither could Archie; and, followed by a commiserating look from Aunt Eunice, we crept dis- piritedly from the breakfast-table and sought refuge with Keziah in the kitchen. There we silently muffled ourselves in warm winter wrappings, not caring a bit what the state of the weather might be, and gloomily set out to visit our- traps in the hemlock swamp. And this somewhat lengthy explanation brings me back to the captured rabbit, and elucidates the cause of Archie's- anger and sorrow,- and the reason of our sitting rejected and miserable on the old hemlock-root, instead of blithely run-- ning and shouting among the trees, as- we used to do before C ' page: 34-35[View Page 34-35]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 34-35 34 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. the distressing event of this dreary Christmas morning had overtaken us. The conversation thus far partook of both a vengeful and an aggrieved tone. Archie declaring, in the same breath, that he was very illy used, and put upon; but he was not going to be domineered over by her, as she would soon find out, and his firm resolve of "I shan't like her any," found a ready response in my heart; and, with that determination unalterably fixed in his mind, he dismissed the unpleasant subject, and turned all his attention on the rabbit, .which was still eying us in trembling horror- from the -most ex- treme limit of the trap. "Suppose we let him go, Archie?"I suggested, timidly, a little afraid of his mood. ' H've half a mind to," he replied, relentingly. "Well, do; it's a kind of Sunday to-day, and you know we ought n't to do anything wicked on Christmas." "That's so," he admitted, quite struck by my logic; - "and, besides, we can catch him again easy enough,- a rabbit never learns anything.;" which sagacious proposition completely staggered my ideas of mercy, while it reconciled Arclhie to letting his prisoner off this time, with strong hopes of future recapture. ' We have- had such a jolly Christmas present, Eva, that we ought to return the compliment in some way; and so I'll do it by giving Mr. Hare his liberty." He- laughed sarcastically. i' Did n't you half tell Lucy you were to have a cryingdoll?" "Yes, I did; but that is no more than you hinted to ; Arke Courtwright about -your skates," I retorted, with ? spirit. "And if I did, I can't help it if they turn out a step- mother, can I?" "Of course you can't; but you need not plague me for telling Lucy I might get a doll. - It's not fair, Archie." THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 35 To this he agreed, and explained that he was only in fun, although I thought it fun of a very bitter nature. "Now," said he, resuming his ordinary good-humor, "I'll hold up the trap, and you scare him out; but be careful that you don't scare him to death." I did as he told me, and thumped, lightly on the box, which was open at the end to accommodate its exit; but the rabbit never stirred; it seemed to be stupefied with fear. "There, I told you so!" exclaimed Archie. "You see, he is near dead from fright; but he will get over it when he finds he is clear of the trap." With that, Archie lifted up the clumsy box, and out tum- bled the terrified rabbit, so utterly scared that not a grain of jump remained in him. "Just as I said: the fool, in his alarm, has forgotten the use of his legs! Well, of all the stupids! only look at him stare and crouch and tremble, when with one leap he could easily get beyond our reach!" was my-brother's scornful commnent on the cowardly conduct of the liberated Mr. Hare. "Come," continued Archie, dragging me after him, "come, and hide with me behind this bush, and he will be off then soon enough, you may depend." We concealed ourselves in the laurel-bush near at hand, and the moment we were out of sight, the animal gave a flying leap, and fled to cover with the speed of an arrow. It was the last rabbit Archie and I ever caught. We emerged from our retreat, and came back to the empty box in silence. Archie kicked it into a cluidp of laurel, as if he knew its usefulness to be over, and its former glory departed. - stared at him, but he only laughed, and coolly began to eat the apple. he had brought along with him for re-baiting the traps. After an hour's forlorn wandering through the swamp, with no ostensible purpose, we returned home, for the first time dreading home, and the great change that had entered there. page: 36-37[View Page 36-37]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 36-37 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 4' CHAPTER III. "TTLE BROTHER. TEP-MOTHERS are not, as a general thing, objects of any especial affection to step-children, and our regard for Matilda proved no exception to the rule. Mrs. Folger was shrewd and calculating in her way, and began her reign cautiously. - She commenced mildly, and ended by making her word supreme, her wish law, and her-commands abso- lute. She purred herself into power, and by the suavity of her purr maintained it. Her dislike of Archie soon took the shape of positive ill- will, exercised as only my father's new wife could exhibit a petty malevolence for a person she detested. She was a woman not much given to using her hand after the ortho- dox fashion of step-dames, but she possessed prodigious re- sources of tongue, and no end of irritating qualities. One of her earliest acts was to forbid our going to the hemlock swamp, explaining, as her reason for so doing, that we might come to harm if permitted to ramble at will in the woods; that some poisonous snake, or weed or berry, might be our death; and, as she feelingly told her husband, it would be injudicious, and clearly a neglect of duty on her part, if she allowed us to go. My father, never an argu- mentative man where a woman was concerned, of course assented to all ohis wife said; for it really looked, the way she presented the subject, as if she had only our interest -at heart, and it was solely for our own good that she interposed her authority. But, notwithstanding her explicit prbhibi- tion, we did make many'stolen visits to the Swamp, at the riskof being scolded and shaken, and sent supperless to bed; but all these were minor afflictions compared to the one in 'store for us. THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 37 A year went by, and another Christmas morning dawned, sad almost to Archie and myself as the one that had preceded it. During the night, while we were sleeping, unconscious of the nearing evil, a baby came. Just as the clock was on the stroke of twelve, a wailing infant cry broke the midnight stillness of the chamber where Archie and I were born, and where our sweet, dark-eyed mother had died. The cry aroused me from a deep slumber, but I did not understand its significance in the least. Hlistened, -but I heard it only once. I must have been dreaming, I thought; there is no baby in the house, no child to cry in a way so strange and piteous. Had I been letss sleepy, and not gone so soon back to Dreamland, I would have discovered other sounds of an unusual nature for that time of the night. Below stairs the house was in a grand state of subdued commotion. Hurrying feet flew about everywhere; doors shut with a careful force, voices whispered in anxious consultation. Then came the hasty arrival of doctor and nurse, and a trtsty messenger was dispatclhed to bring grandmamma Post. That stout lady entered the chamber-door, wrapped to the eyes, and bursting with importance; as well as breath- less from her unwonted haste, in time for her practised ear to catch the sound of that feeble baby moan, when she threw up her hands in a fervent manner, and gratefully ex- claimed, "Thank Heaven, it is over, and Matilda is safe!" Even severe Aunt Eunice unbent from her habitual auster- ity, and showed a glimmer of genuine womanly sympathy by remarking to Keziah, that "she would not grudge any- body her pity at such a moment." The first thing I noticed, on coming down stairs the next morning, was the strong odor of camphor, impregnating the atmosphere of the lower rooms to a degree I thought stifling, and the mysterious quiet that pervaded the house. . There was a certain up-all-night look, too, about everything and everybody that puzzled me extremely, and the eyes of Aunt 4 page: 38-39[View Page 38-39]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 38-39 38 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. Eunice and kind old Keziah, when, they turned on Archie, as they frequently did, were full of meaning. But it was all explained after breakfast, when, to my wonder, Mrs. Folger did not appear, I being unaware at the time that she was limited to a strict gruel diet. A fat, fussy old lady, known by the name of Mrs. Skimlins, and who was the professional monthly nurse of Litchfield - always a being , of ominous presence-came on tiptoe from' the apartment ' occupied by my step-mother, bearing in her arms a bundle done up in long swathings of white flannel. This suspicious- looking bundle she brought directly to us, and maliciously inquired if we would not like to se; our "teny, tiny brover." Neither of us displayed any great amount of eagerness to behold the phenomenon of a " teny, tiny bro- ver," and we made no answer. Mrs. Skimlins, pitying no doubt our lack of curiosity, deliberately unrolled the em- broidered blanket, which closely enveloped the squirming atom to the imminent danger of suffocation, and proudly showed us a red, wrinkled face about as big as one of Aunt Eunice's over- brown doughnuts, and a pair of pink, puffy eyelids that marked the place where a pair of eyes ought to be, and probably were. Its hairless head had a soft, un- pleasant appearance, and of brows it had none, but of ears it had plenty. Archie's lips curled in disgust, but he did not speak, nor did I. Nurse pulled an ugly little mite of a hand from the folds of flannel for us to admire, and said triumphantly, "There now, see what a dear little brover you have; ar'n't he a splendid Christmas present?" "' Whose is it?" asked Archie, shortly, the fact of its being a Christmas present in no way tending to soften his heart. "Why, it's your mamma's baby; whose else should it- be?" replied the surprised Mrs. Skimlins. "No, not my mother's. I have no mother, was Archie's- sorrowfully proud answer. THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 30 "Who brought it here?"I questioned, the marvel of how it came to exist strong upon me. "The angels brought it last night while you were asleep; such a Christmas gift as few people get, I can tell -you!" said the nurse, getting poetical in praise of the infant's being. "Angels, pooh! They are welcome to pass their Christ- mas gifts along, for all I care, if this is the best they have got," was Archie's icontemptuous rejoinder. He did not believe the angels had anything to do with the baby, any more than they did with the camphor and gruel, and he would not look at it another minute, although Mrs. Skim- lins was willing to exhibit the wee, rosy feet of the rashy prodigy, and otherwise ingratiate the obnoxious innocent into our good graces. I confess, I had a lingering desire to examine the queer little creature more closely, but Archie hurried me away, and together we hastened to the kitchen, to consult Aunt Eunice about it. "Is that baby in there going to be our brother?"I burst out impetuously, the moment I caught sight of Aunt Eunice. "Yes, dear, I suppose it is," said she, stopping in her walk to the pantry to lay her hand caressingly on Archie's chestnut locks. There was pity in the act - a deep, tender pity for the boy's future, and it aroused all my warm sisterly love. "I won't have that nasty little red thing for my brother," I cried, passionately; "I have no brother but Archie!" and I threw myself in his arms, sobbing, ready to break my heart. Aunt Eunice tried her best to soothe me, and her tone of pious iresignation checked somewhat my sobs. "Well, it is here now, and we must make the best of it. It will do no good to cry and worry; if it would, I'd not spare my eyes, old as they are, you may be sure." + - page: 40-41[View Page 40-41]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 40-41 40 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. Dear, comforting soul! .She laid down the head of cab- bage she was carefully examining,--to make certain that no earth-worms were lurking within its folded leaves, and stealthily wiped away a few obtrusive tears that she found herself unable to-keep back. "But will they come every Christmas morning?" I tearfully asked, a new alarm taking possession of my thoug ts. "I! am afraid they will' she looks just that sort of a woman." Aunt Eunice broke off abruptly, reminding her- self that she was talking to childreh, and must be a little careful of her words. For weeks past she had been heard to utter many ambig- uous' ejaculations not indicative of anticipated pleasure, and we had repeatedly overheard her mutter, in a half inaudible, but highly offended tone, "Well, it will be harder for the poor things then, I suppose." Now, all this vague murmuring was quite plain. The meaning of our spinster aunt's displeased self-communings were- no longer obscure. It referred entirely to the coming of this miserable infant; and she must have had an inkling of what the angels were up to some time before they con- descended to leave that wrinkled duhmpling of a baby with Mrs. Folger. The advent into the household of -this important morsel of humanity, Aunt Eunice very well knew, would throw poor Archie and myself still further in the shade. Hence her coldness towards Matilda's innocent offspring, and a more tender and watchful love for us. Slhe was jealous of our rights and happiness, -and- all her faithful heart was in arms to de- fend the two children her dying sister had bequeathed to her long-tried affection and care. But, however adversely our aunt may have regarded the affair, it is certain our step- molther-wXas delighted. I To her it was a babe of surpassing sweetness, beauty, and promise. It was a darling little Post, THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 4I' every mite of it. So grandma Post said, and all the rest of the Posts, young and old, agreed to it. Only nurse, true to her professional interests, and perhaps slightly influenced by habit, mildly suggested that the precious lamb was the very image of Mr. Folger - two peas could not be more alike. Mr. Folger might have been flattered, but it is difficult to believe that he could possibly be pleased by the earnest assurance that his features exactly resembled those of his puckered, wart-of-a-nosed infant. It was a very natural sequence to that unwelcome present of last year, and was a good and pretty enough baby, I presume, at least to those who loved it, and had a right to be there, and could not help being born on Christmas morning-a circum- stance that filled the mother with pardonable pride, and made her feel particularly blest of heaven, as well as of earth. It could not help being accredited to the angels, any more than it could help being rolled into a human bundle, and ostentatiously paraded about by the stout Mrs. Skimlins. It was a clear, fine morning; but, with baby, and nurse, and the smell of camphor, and the invasion of a whole army of jubilant Posts, the house seemed very strange. No- body but Aunt Eunice and Keziah took any notice of us, and we felt lonesome and neglected, and in the:way .of every one. Aunt and Keziah were unusually busy in the:kitchen, attending to the dinner, for the Posts must be fed, ahd they did have wonderful appetites--as visitors. There was only one solace left-- only one friend who had time to bother with us and j share our misfortunes and sorrows-- the Swamp. We would find no change there, and would not be in the way. When I saw Archie getting his cap and comforter and mittens, I knew where he was going, and by the time he was well wrapped up, 1 had on my hood and cloak, and was ready to accompany him. "We will go0 'down to the hemlocks, Eva," said he, as 4 page: 42-43[View Page 42-43]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 42-43 42 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. soon as we shad cleared the gate. "She is sick and won't know it, and I don't care if she does," he concluded reck- lessly, takling my hand, and urging me into a run. We had a glorious morning of it in the Swamp. After we were tired of tramping through its evergreen labyrintlhs, we sat down on the old crooked hemlock-rootj and had a long confiden- tial conversation upon the affair at home. Neither of us would ever countenance that intrusive baby, that was posi- tive. It was not our brother, we would never admit it. We would hate it; that's what we would do, and never touch it as- long as weIlved. A very brave resolve; but, alas! it was out of our power to keep -it. At any late, it was out of mine; for many weary, weary hours did I afterward walk the floor with Elbert Victor - as my half-brother was subsequently christened--in my arms, and never once, though soften sorely tempted, did I purposely pierce him with pins, or malignly pinch his cross little body. I learned patience and forgiveness early, and to Elbert Victor do I chiefly attribute the cause. The hemlocks never betrayed the confidence we reposed in their silence; so the futility of our barbarous scheme, to renounce, and with renunciation solemnly vow to wage eternal warfare against Matilda's beloved heir, never reached that lady's knowledge. Mrs. Skimlins, however, did not fail to acquaint Mrs. Folger with Archie's out-spoken opin- ion of the baby, when presented to him in the character of a helpless " teny, tiny brover; " nor did she forget to mention the manner in which- he had alluded to his own mother in proof of the infant's denial to the rights of brothership. All of which, it is needless to say, sunk deep in Mrs. Folger's newly awakened maternal heart, and she vowed, in her turn, that Archie should-be pushed from the pedestal of priority he occupied in his father's house, and her son should take his place. Mrs. Folger kept her vow. THE. HEMLOCK SWAMP. 43 CHAPTER IV. SIMON POST. S HORTLY after the holidays there came to live with us my step-mother's youngest brother, Simon Post, and the presumptuous arrival of Elbert Victor sank to nothing- ness beside the permanent residence of Simon among us. He was two years Archie's senior, and between them existed a bitter and relentless enmity. They quarrelled fierdely, even when Simon came simply as the guest of his sister; but now, when he was to make his future home with us, Archie was, enraged beyond words, and did not take the smallest pains to conceal his sentiments. Hardly a day passed that they did not engage in- a hand- to-hand conflict of some kind, which mainly resulted in blackened eyes, scratched noses, torn jackets, and injured shins--a convincing proof of the force and malignity of their hatred. But after a while Simon became wary of the unequal contest, for he was almost always vanquished by his younger, but far more muscular adversary. The numer- ous hammerings he had already received made him wary of wantonly provoking Archie's hot temper and sturdy blows; but he took his revenge by tormenting him in a sly, treacherous way, that exasperated my high-spirited brother past all bounds of calmness or reason. Simon refused point-blank to longer fight in redress of his wrongs, and so Archie had to content himself by vent- ing on him only savage frowns and growls of contempt, when he fairly ached to give him a sound thrashing, He called him a coward and a sneak, and a low-born puppy, or some such pretty name, every time'they met; but Simon, mindful of former defeats and inglorious bruises, would not page: 44-45[View Page 44-45]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 44-45 " THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. be taunted into courage, and sought protection of his sister, whom he declared had sternly forbidden him never to fight again with a bad and wicked boy like Archie Folger. Archie disdainfully termed Simon's excuse "a petticoat dodge" of the meanest sort, and his heart, beneath the ridicule and contempt, was as hard as a stone towards him and all his race. Simon was a tall, slim youth, with long, awkward neck and arms, and a pale, colorless complexion. His faded blue eyes and tawny hair were indigenous to the Post family, and he- had the stealthy, catlike temperament that I Xso dis- liked in my step-mother. His uncertain eyes. could look any expression- he desired to. assume, and do-it too so naturally that you would never mistrust the hate and fear sleeping under the silvery-blonde lashes. He early acquired the difficult art of controlling his tongue, the weapon Mrs. Folger wielded with such untiring zeal and effectiveness. Simon's single advantage over Archie was his silence. He would chuckle and wink and hug himself when he saw his enemy discomfited in a wordy war with Matilda, and his low, jeering laugh and leering squint - a half closing of his sleepy, unreadable eyes- would drive Archie into a furious tempest of rage and retort. Simon adroitly evaded. the menacing gestures of his boy foe, but could not be made to speak, however violently as- sailed, save as the sneering smile and slow shutting of his bleached eyelids answered for him. Yet, with all his feigned humility, he never failed to put a thorn in Archie's way whenever he could with safety to himself, and in secret gloated over the pain it caused him. Mrs. Folger was obviously in league with her brother, and between them. they contrived to make poor Archie's life filisetable, and at times almost unbearable. She was ever- lastingly inveighing against him to some one; if not his father, or a credulous neighbor, she was hypocritically con- doling with. Simon, and with pathetic earnestness warning it ,c THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 45. him to shun his evil company, and not to notice his depraved insults. Her persistent and half imperceptible malice stung Archie to the'quick in a hundred different ways, keeping him in a continual state of irritation and resentfulness. Inch by inch she robbed him of the pleasures and privileges he had a right to claim in the house that had been his mother's. She nettled and harassed his naturally impetuous temper, until his frank, confiding disposition was nearly ruined, and filled his breast with gloomy, vindictive thoughts. And when she had accomplished her object, destroyed the child's respect for his father, and turned the father's love away from his child, -the first-born darling of the young wife he had buried, -she changed the measure of her solicitude, and bewailed to Mr. Folger the unfilial delinquencies of his son, and feared his example would be quite dreadful to the future good mnorals of dear little Elbert Victor. Day by day she instilled into her husband's mind the great sinfulness of Archie's nature, until the easily misled parent really did believe the boy to be utterly vicious and unmanageable. , I do not think it ever occurred to Archie, when wronged or wilfully misrepresented by the woman who hated him, to appeal to his father; I know it never did to me,; nor did Aunt Eunice ever venture to seek a just and impartial hear- ing in that doubtful quarter. We seemed to understand intuitively that Archie had no advocate in his father. Simon was the ungainly feather that broke the camel's back. After he came to live with us, my brother was more unhappy and irritable than- ever, and it made my heart ache to see the sad change it wrought in him. -It appeared to sour his belief in all mankind, and render everything about- him false and hateful. He pounded his revenge out of Simon, until that tender youth conceived the wise idea that discretion is the better part of'valor, and firmly declined Archie's challenge to meet him three times a day in deadly O. - ' L.::::. page: 46-47[View Page 46-47]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 46-47 " THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. combat. As for his step-mother, he treated her with due outward respect, as he did his father, and silently endured what he could not alter nor rid himself of. We never thought of calling the lady who ruled the house 's mother." To her face, it was always a submissive Mrs. Folger; behind her back, a comprehensively varied " her," or " she," or, from Archie, a sarcastic "Matilda." Her second conspicuously aggressive act, following that which pufa stop to our going to the Swamp, was to coolly take possession of Archie's bedroom, turn it into a nursery for the accommodation of Elbert Victor, and unceremoniously pack Archie off into the garret to sleep. He submitted to the flagrant usurpation without a murmur louder than reached my ears, and grimly inquired " what next?" as if he did not much care. But I knew he was cruelly hurt, for it was an outrage his proud soul could illy brook, and I was power- less to help him, other than my furtively whispered sympa- thy might afford him some little consolation. The first night Archie started to take up his sleeping i abode in the garret, Simon laughed in a cunning, partly tantalizing, partly malicious manner, and for him, at that galling moment, it was very dangerous mirth. Archie heard it creeping after him like a low, baleful echo, and resolved on instant punishment. His foot was on the third stair, but he quickly walked back, marched the whole length of the sitting-room, and deliberately slapped Simon's grinning mouth. . "There, take that, you snickering coward, and laugh on the other side of your face," he exclaimed, flickering at the astounded Simon a counter -smile of wormwood, which did not lessen when his, angry eyes met the equally angry eyes of Mrs. Folger fixed threateningly upon him. "Don't touch him," she hastily cautioned her brother, as if Archie was a wild beast which by some unlucky mis- chance had escaped from its cage, and was exceedingly Ch de cap as exc THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 47 rapacious and blood-thirsty. "Don't touch him, Simon; he is beneath you!" This witheringly, and with a command- ing wave of her snaky hand that was quite over-powering. The caution was not needed. Simon would as soon have thought of attacking an enraged lion as of resenting the liberty taken with his milk-and-water countenance. And why should he? it was only a boy's rude fierceness, and the boy, unfortunately, was stronger than he. No, Simon bided his time. He could wait- wait years perhaps, but his time would come. He slowly turned away and left the room, his lips pale as ashes, and a world of undying hate burning hotly in his heart; while Archie, his fury appeased, de- risively bowed at his retreating back, and immediately dis- appeared up the garret-stairs. Regarding myself, I had less to complain of than my brother. Mrs. Folger, for some unexplained reason of her own, did not care to make me in all respects as wretched as she did Archie. She did not love me, far/ from it, but I was more Useful than he was ever likely to be, and not so stubborn and sullen as she denominated the unhappy nature of my poor brother to be. But my life had little sunshine and many clouds. Archie's trials troubled me more than if they had been my own, for he was my heart's one idol, and a grief to him was a double- grief to me. I would gladly have borne everything for his sake, and was only too happy to share the slights and stings and miseries he was daily subjected to. At best, my path was no easy one to walk in, and I had my hours of dark rebellion and angry broodings as well as Archie. The position I occupied in my father's dwelling, though nominally that of an only daughter, was really the place of nurse-girl to his wife's children. 7 And here let me say, and I hope it will not be considered in the light of an inadmissible digression, that the angels were alarmingly prodigal of their infantile favors, for almost every- year a new baby brother made his appearance, and page: 48-49[View Page 48-49]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 48-49 48 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. Mrs. Skimlins was looked for as regularly as the seasons. So I was constantly kept busy at baby-tending from one year's end to another, with no hope of there ever being a limit to i their number. And it was of no use to grumble or rebel: the infants would come all the same, and when they did, they must be sacredly taken care of. Aunt Eunice had long sub- mitted to the inevitable, her sole atom of comfort being in the profound reiteration of her previous judgment relative to Matilda's fruitfulness. "I said so. She looks just that kind of a woman." If Archie and Simon cordially hated each other, it is equally certain that Simon was fond of me, and would do quite as much to please me as he would- to annoy my bro- ther., He was like my shadow; I could not stir but his eyes were following me wistfully, and his pale, expression- less face lighted up eagerly if by any means he could do me a service of sufficient importance to elicit my thanks. I believe it was Archie's love for me which first inspired his inflexible hatred. It was hate born of a strange jealousy; for he somehow conceived the erroneous idea that Archie stood between him and my regard, and it was a thing he could not forgive. His marked liking did not in the beginning give me any disquiet, but it: soon grew to be a troublesome espionage, that .fretted me incessantly. The poor fellow meant no harm;' he only wished to express his boyish devotion in a way he thought to be perfectly proper and ,entirely accept- able to my feminine vanity. But Archie would have it that it was doneo0n purpose to tantalize him, and therefore he disdainfully refused to take aly notice of it. My womanly instinctS, however, took quite a different view of the matter, and I knew, as I afterward had good reason to remember, as -well as to regret, that Simon was altogether sincere in his youthful predilection for me. ' As I have before stated, Mr. Folger gave what paternal THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 49 -endearments he had to spare to his younger children; our claims to his affection were of trifling account compared to theirs; we were treated simply with indifference, not un- kindness - heleft that to his wife. But the one I dreaded and distrusted the most, -the one I avoided and fled from as if from an evil presence, -the one whose love was more to be feared than his hate, -was Simon Post. CHAPTER V. IN THE GARRET. T HE garret of an old farmhouse is never a very inviting place at night, however pleasant it may be to rum- mage its mysterious crooks and crannies in the daytime. But I went there every evening after Archie was obliged to make it his sleeping apartment, just to kiss him good-night, and assure him of my love, and ask if he was comfortable. I had always been afraid to go there alone after dark; but the thought of Archie being banished there, to keep com- pany with the rats and hobgoblins, nerved my heart to un- wonted courage, and I stole away to him the moment my arms were free of Elbert Victor, who was fractiously begin- ning his second month of existence, and no longer under the care of Mrs. Skimlins. I can never forget the first pilgrimage I made of the nar- row uncarpeted garret-stairs, intent on ministering consola- tion to my darling brother. My head nearly touched the rafters at the highest part, and the board space between bristled with innumerable sharp shingle-nails, which might have made a sudden collision fatal to a tender scalp. The one small window at the end was thickly festooned with 5 XD page: 50-51[View Page 50-51]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 50-51 50 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. alternate layers of dust and cobwebs,' in which gossamer hammocks many unwary flies and bees had met their death, and now lay, dry and wingless, at the mercy of the treach- erous spider who had so artfully entrapped them into its meshes. The feeble light was vault-like and cold, filling the garret with a gloomy haze, and peopling the corners with phantom shadows of gigantic and weird proportions. At the farthest limit, where the floor was scarcely three feet from the roof, was.-stored a mass of rubbish kept for heaven only knows what purpose. There were broken chairs, old picture-frames, pieces of looking-glass, old bottles and frag- ments of demolished china, dismembered tongs, maimed andirons, and bits of ragged carpet, - all piled together in a dusty heap; while from the beams overhead depended bundles of dried herbs, wasps-nests, and little bags of gar- den-seeds, and divers other like accumulations common to the catch-all precinct of an old country-house garret. The bed stood in the centre of the floor, -the only unobstructed place there was for it, - flanked on one side by a broken- legged stand, and on the other by a bottomless chair and a rusty worn-out parlor-stove. And here it was that Archie, surrounded by all sorts of disagreeable litter, was compelled to sleep, while Simon Post was given the neat hall bedroom, entirely to himself. The pendent wasps-nests and musty pile of condemned furniture were to be his constant room-mates so long as he remained within the jurisdiction of Mrs. Fol- ger's authority. The first night I blundered up there, shivering with cold and with a heavy heart, marked a bitter era in my joyless life, and I recall it as one of the saddest memories of my childhood. Once I bumped my head against the roof and felt a vicious shingle-nail clinch in my hair and a shower of lettuce-seed sift down into my face. I had come in contact with a bundle of the dry plant tied by a string to the rafter, and which the careful fingers of Aunt Eunice had suspended THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 5 1 there nobody could tell how long ago, -before Matilda's reign, at least; for she had taken no interest in preserving lettuce-seed since that calamitous day. I stooped lower, groping my way with outstretched hands; for the light was so dim, I could not distinguish one object from another. The low window, -with its four little frosty panes, was like a phantom eye set squarely in the gable, and seemed to be trying to beat back the faint starlight which struggled in vain to penetrate the murky gloom a foot beyond the gray casement. It was barely sufficient to show me the uncertain outline of Archie's head, the dark, tumbled hair relieving it from the pillow and affording me a guide, to which I bent my steps with noiseless haste, - Mrs. Folger had re- markably sharp ears. Dodging a gibbeted bundle of wool X and another of sweet-fern, I safely reached the bed; and a dangerously weak bed it was too. Every turn of Archie's supple body made it tremble and quake in every limb as if the cord that held it together was giving way, and it must crumple to the floor in spite of its heroic efforts to stand firmly, as -a respectable bedstead should. The night was extremely cold, and' I remember the cracked old stove appeared to me like a direct satire on the frigidity of the atmosphere. "Are you warm, Archie?"I asked, bending over him anxiously. I knew he was not asleep, although he lay so still. "Yes, I am warm enough now; that fist-exercise of mine on Master Simon is reacting like a blast-furnace. I think it will retard the growth of his moustache for some time yet," he facetiously replied. I put my hand on his forehead; it was burning, hot, and the glow of anger still suffused his cheeks. "What made you slap him so, Archie? He only laughed," said I, in a voice I meant should convey a reproof. "Only laughed! Well, his laugh is a thing I won't page: 52-53[View Page 52-53]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 52-53 52' - THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. stand, and he will get hurt every time he dares to do it at my expense. Matilda may shove me off up here, -she -is a woman and my father's wife, and I can't defend myself against her meanness and malice,- but her beggarly jacka- napes of a brother shan't titter his delight of it at me!" said Archie, turning over with such force that the!bed creaked dolefully in all. its joints. "You are not afraid to sleep here alone, are you?"I questioned, timidly, glancing around the dark garret, and abruptly changing the subject. "No-o; but, then, you see, these things hanging about on the rafters look mighty ghostish at night, and if a fellow should wake up of a sudden, and find them swinging every- where he chanced to clap his eyes, he might be a little startled." "Oh, I can remedy that part of the ghostly fancy!,' said I, trying to appear cheerful; and I began jerking down the unsightly parcels right and left. When all were removed, I threw them in a pile behind the barricade of old furniture; then I seated myself on the side of the bed, the skirt of my dress huddled around my shoulders in a vain effort to keep warm, and for two hours we talked, in a whisper, of our mutual troubles and unjust abasements. The conversation was mainly of Simon, and the unparalleled effrontery of his behavior towards Archie. Oh, how earnestly I wished that my brother was a man, and not a helpless boy! Then we would go away together, live only for one another, and never return again to the farm. -I loved him devotedly; I assured him of that over and over; and the more he was slighted and snubbed, the more I adored him, and the closer my heart clung to him. I wanted to be ill used, so that I might have as much cause to complain as he, and not have it seem as if I were favored by those who trampled on him. This first confidence in the garret was but a prelude to THE HEMLOCK SWAMP.- 53 the many which followed it., We came to like the dusty old place after a while, for no one ever disturbed us there, and the dingy quiet and cobwebs possessed a certain charm of retirement and freedom that a finer apartment could not boast of in a house where Mrs. Folger held sway. The covering every winter became older and scantier, for it was never renewed, and boys do wear out bed-clothes dreadfully. The three years that intervened were years of little pleasure and hard experience. I always had a teething half-brother on my hands; Aunt Eunice was always op- posing Matilda, and Archie was always wrangling with Simon Post. CHAPTER VI. TREASON. GAIN it was Christmas-eve. We had struggled through the years somehow, until Archie ws nearly sixteen, and fast approaching the proud estate of manhood. But he was still the victim of Mrs. Folger's ill-will, and the wheels of time were grinding onward at the same slow, tor. tuous rate for us. We had crept upward like two poor stalks of wayside wheat, neglected and unloved; but we lived nevertheless, and grew tall and strong, in spite of Mrs. Folger and Simon. As it happened, no unusual occurrence, Archie had been in disgrace all day, and, from sheer sympathy, I was quite as wretched as he. Of late, I had been led to believe that Archie was planning some object of magnitude, and I anx- iously awaited the hour when he would of his own free will confide the secret to me. Aunt Eunice was likewise uneasy, and would look at him with-a-troubled expression, wrinkling 5 * page: 54-55[View Page 54-55]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 54-55 54 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. her-kind old face, and sigh, and shake her head as if trying to solve the puzzle. Christmas-eve was the dreariest of times to us. It brought the customary invasion of dominant Posts, but nothing of beauty and gladness to Archie and myself. Aunt Eunice liberally supplied us with candies and sweet cakes, but we wete outgrowing our love for confectionery, and longing for something higher. ' It is true, Simon endeavored to be gen- erous and conciliating, and sheepishy tendered me a few trifling presents, neatly done up in white papers; but I curtly refused his offerings, and protested that I would have nothing to do with them or him. He looked a little hurt, as well as offended; but I did not care, I was too young to understand the motive which prompted his attentions; and he retired with his unaccepted Christmas gifts, without further importunity. The Posts were uncommonly numer- ous this season, and it was a great relief to get away from their endless chatter and ceaseless calls to be waited upon. Watching' my opportunity, I slipped from the room unob- served, and went out to the wood-shed where Archie was splitting kindling-wood for the morning fire. The company had already been to tea, but we rarely sat at table with Mrs. Folger's visitors. She generally dis- covered at the last moment that there was no room for us; besides, the baby was sure to worry at meal-time, and, of course, I was detailed to amuse him while his mamma did the honors of the table. There was room for Elbert Victor's high chair, certainly; but he was Mr-s. Folger's son, and that made all the difference in the world. I was feeling dispirited and tired with my day of thank- less drudgery, and the sight of Archie's clouded brow did not add to my cheerfulness.. -I hastened to inquire what had occurred, for I kntew there had been a serious difficulty of some kind since I had seen him half an hour before. "What is the matter, Archie? you look dreadfully out of temper!" THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 55 He threw down the axb -in a fury, and the red glow of anger mantled his cheek. "I said, the last time she misused me, that she could never do it again without being made to know that she had done it once too often. Matilda has cowed everybody about the place except Aunt Eunice, and she would turn her out pf the house to-morrow if she did not own a good portion of the farm. Aunt can get her money at any time; but we, you and me, Eva, we are children, and she thinks to drive us off before we are of age, and have the legal power to de- mand our mother's share of the property. That's her little game; but I'll see to it that she fails, if I spend all my life in doing it." I was amazed at his vehemence, and did not clearly un- derstand what he meant. "But what has she said or done that could enrage you so?" The strongly accented " she " referring, of course, to Mrs. Folger. "Well, you know the trick I played on Simon last night. "Archie smiled slightly at the recollection, and did not look near so savage as a little while before. "Yes," I laughed; " you took possession of his bed while he was down stairs with the -company, and poor Simon had to sleep in the garret. How did you ever dare do it, Archie?" "I am getting so I dare do almost anything. I knew the company would keep him in the parlor until late, so I made myself comfortable in his-nest, and sent him up into the garret to roost, or sit up all night, just as he liked, for every bed in the house was occupied. It raised a high old rumpus. All the Posts were in arms, and the uproar was fearful. I left the bedroom-door open, and dared any or all of them to come in. I asked Simon'particularly to "do so, and retake, if he could, his very excellent touch, but he declined the invitation; and this morming--lord, how page: 56-57[View Page 56-57]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 56-57 56 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. bilious he looked when I told him what a fine night's sleep I had." "Yes, I know all about that, Archie; did n't the noise scare me half to death; but what is the matter now?" said I, curious to discover what the present trouble might be. "Oh, it seems that Madam Matilda has been turning over in her mind what punishment she shall inflict for my cruelty, as she terms it, towards Simon, the spindle-legged coward; why did n't he come in and take his bed? he is two years older than myself, and I'd willingly give himn that much advantage. But no, he runs to Matilda with his complaint, and she has concluded that I must do either of two things, apologize to 'Simon before all the company, or she will severely chastise me ins their presence. Now, what do you think of her proposition?" "Think! why, it is dreadful, Archie. What did you say?" "I politely told her, I would not apologize; I'd see her precious brother hanged first; and advised her to get her rods ready, for that I believed was her only alternative." "Goodness! Archie, you do not mean-" "Mean!" he interrupted passionately; "do you think I mean to let that woman whip me? I say, Eva, there's going to be a row, and I am in for it. with all my heart. Let Sim Post open his lips, and I'll thrash him out of his-senses. He poked hris ugly face in here a few minutes- before you came, and I could have clipped him nicely, only I did not like to dull the axe." * Oh, Archie," I expostulated, " what a reason. I hope you will never hurt him seriously; it would be horrible, and Matilda would have the best4of you then." "You know I was merely joking," he replied, with a laugh that was half a frown. "I'll never injure the tow- headed calf, beyond an occasional cuff or two. But if we stay here much longer, we will have Matilda'coming out -M we -w^ ve Matil THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 57 with her infernal clack," said he, in conclusion, stooping down to fill his arms with the kindling-wood. "She will never attempt to chastise you, depend upon that, Archie. It was merely an empty threat to make it appear to her family that she could manage you. If you are determined not to apologize, she will drop the matter and say no more about it."' "' Well, I won't, and that 's; all there is of it." His manner was extremely positive, and I sought to soothe his rising ill-humor. "Never mind, they are all in the parlor, and we will have our tea with aunty in the kitchen, and our Christmas- eve all to ourselves. Come, and be cheerful and pleasant, Archie, -that's a good boy!" I led the way, and he silently followed me into the kitchen, where Keziah had the tea-table temptingly spread, and Aunt Eunice was impatiently awaiting our appearance. Archie ate' very sparingly; and when he left the table he drew a chair to the stove, and seated himself in a dejected attitude as far out of every one's way as possible. I had hoped to spend the evening with him, but was disappointed, my usual fate. "Eveleen, Eveleen!" called Mrs. Folger sharply, "Eve- leen, don't you hear that child cry?" I reluctantly obeyed her brusque summons, and for more than an hour walked the floor with the fat, cross baby in my arms, and not a throb of love in my heart for it. The sitting-room was deserted by all save Simon, who stayed because he knew I was pretty sure to be found where the baby was, and that was a sufficient inducement for him to remain. He did not speak, but sat quietly in the corner, like a youth scrupulously intent on minding his own busi- ness, and divining what the fire was made of. Once in a while his pale eyes lifted askant at me, and not unkindly, notwithstanding my scornful rejection of his presents, which page: 58-59[View Page 58-59]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 58-59 58- THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. were no doubt intended as a peace-offering, as well as a mark of his esteem. He preferred my company--although it was only to be near me while wearily perambulating the floor in the capacity of nursery- maid - to the society of his relatives in the parlor, and, I must confess, I felt a little flattered. After a deal of coaxing, the baby fell asleep, and I put him from my aching arms into the cradle, with the wicked mental wish that he might not wake for a month. But how vain are our wishes where a baby is concerned! By some unlucky chance Archie came in at the very moment Mrs. Folger entered the sitting-room from the opposite direction. A chair happened to be in Archie's way, and he roughly pushed it aside; the noise awakened the baby, and, as a natural consequence, aroused the wrath of its mother. You are forever lounging where you have no business to be," she cried, shaking him smartly by the collar. "You are the-most worthless and ill-behaved boy I ever saw, and oughten't to be allowed the company of decent people. You pushed -the chair on purpose to wake the baby; it's just like your vileness!" Archie retreated from her grasp, a pale anger overspread- ing his face, and I saw his hand firmly close into a small, revengeful fist. She saw it too, and her countenance whit- ened to the hue of marble. For the space of a minute the enraged woman and the enraged boy confronted each other in speechless-hate. Archie was the first to recover his voice, and flung at her words of scathing scorn and defiance. "I have as much business here as you have, madam, or that Post there in the corner'" derisively pointing his finger towards the imperturbable, Simon, "and I'll stay here as long as I please. This house is more mine than it is yours, or ever will be, and I am not to- be tamely brow-beaten by any Post who ever has or ever may enter it.$' I was aghast at his temerity. He was -ripe for rebellion, THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 59 and utterly reckless of what he said. I could not speak for surprise and terror, and felt the blood all forsaking my cheeks and centring cold at my heart. Matilda gave her audacious step-son one ferocious look, which- if looks could kill, would have smitten him'dead to. the floor, and went direct to her husband. In a voice quivering with suppressed passion, she demanded of Mr. Folger protection from the violence of his son, and she took good care that all her family should hear her make the. request. "I am not safe with him -none of us are safe with him,' said she, tragically. "It needs a man to deal with such a boy; it is all a woman's life is worth to exact obedience of him. Simon, be on your guard." This to her brother, who was cringing in the corner. "Archibald, I insist upon- your putting some sort of a restraint on your son's temper, other- wise 1will leave the house." Thus appealed to, Mr. Folger excused himself to the com- pany, - who ran a dozen or more of them to the parlor-door, where they stood with uplifted hands and breathless lips at a safe hearing and seeing distance, -and sternly inquired of Archie what he meant by treating his mother in this shame- ful manner. "My mother-" his face softened, and his voice fell from haughty anger into a tender cadence,-" my mother, sir, is not here, she is lying yonder under the snow, for- gotten by you, but not by me." He pointed his hand in the direction of the village church-yard, and the-slow ges- ture was indescribably solemn and touching. "This woman is not my mother; she insults a sacred memory by daring to assume the name. My mother was a lady, this woman-" "Archie!" sharply interposed Mr. Folger. "Is Simon Post's sister," continued my brother, without noticing the interruption. ' A perfect little monster, if ever there was one. I wonder page: 60-61[View Page 60-61]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 60-61 how poor Matilda ever manages to get along with- him," parenthesized a voice from the company. Archie flashed a look replete with defiance full at his in- censed step-parent, and broke out-anew: "I want everybody to know that I have a right here, and those who say I have not tell an untruth,--a better right than some others I could mention,-one especially, whom I should very much like to kick into the street this very minute, for it is where he belongs," glancing darkly at Simon, and hardly able to keep his hands off of him. "Archie, not another word. This is too outrageous. It would better become the memory of your- " '-Stop, sir, if you please," said Archie, boldly breaking in on Mr. Folger's authoritative expostulation. ('I will not hear my dead mother named in such company as are present. I am her only son, and I stand here proud to proclaim and maintain it to you and every one." "And my only brother." I slid my hand into his, and, for my life, I could not help breathing aloud the tender response. As to Mrs. Folger, she was simply beside herself with rage. The allusion to his mother in so grandly sad a- way was to her insupportable effrontery, particularly when she saw how forcibly it struck home to her husband. Mr. Folger was completely silenced, and appeared extremely ill at ease. "Go to bed, sir," he finally managed to- articulate in a husky tone. "I'll settle this disgraceful business with you in the morning, and see if I can't teach you to be more re- spectful towards your elders. Come, Matilda, his insolence is not worth minding; although I am shocked at the boy's unheard of depravity, and deeply regret, my dear, the pain he has caused you. I assure you, it shall never happen again. It is my duty to protect you against a like repel- tition of his unblushing impudence, and never fear but I will do it." THE HEiMLOCK SWAMP. 6I And this was the lad whom Mrs. Folger had privately in- formed her family should either publicly apologize to Simon, or submit to a severe chastisement at her hands. Archie flatly refused to the one, and she hardly dared venture to execute the other. Her defeat was, indeed, humiliating, but as she could not play the part of a tyrant, she could quite as readily assume the role of -a martyr; and straight- way she began to weep as if the scandalous conduct of her step-son had rent her heart in twain. Mr. Folger drew her sobbing from the room, and consigned her to the bosom of her sympathizing relatives, where she remained during the rest of the evening, tearful and silent, and looking the picture of injured maternity. Archie watched her exit scornfully, and when she was gone, he turned to her brother, and asked, with a mocking smile: I say, Simon, don't you want me to apologize? I amn just in the mood to give you entire satisfaction. " Simon twisted and grinned, and folded his hands tightly over his knee, but -was circumspectly dumb. So Arciie, having routed the enemy and spiked all their guns, aban- doned the field, and marched out of the room like a vic- torious general fresh from the scene of his laurels. Simon, in turn, smiled at his receding back, and a queer smie it was. I knew its full meaning in after days, but then it was a riddle that took many years of my life to solve. When I reached the garret, Archie was snugly tucked in bed, but very far from being asleep. The night was clear and cold; the steely glitter of the stars afforded all the light there was to be had in the poor, low, old garret, but it was enough to enable me to discern that he had the bed- clothes pulled close about his ears in a spiteful fashion, and seemed altogether like a very angry and unrepentant youth. He was curled up in a round heap, his knees approximate to his chin; which species of human contraction he called page: 62-63[View Page 62-63]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 62-63 62 THE HEMLO-CK SWAMP. "warming the bed;" and it really does require a deal of moral courage to make the full-length acquaintance of icy sheets of a frosty December night. "Dear me, Archie, you gave me such a fright; and heaven only knows where it will end," I said, as soon as I had settled myself in my old place on the edge of the bed. "What in the world induced you to answer back in that distressing manner; and you did not spare father either; what could have possessed you, Archie?" "! answered back as I did, because I had a right to. I said no more than the truth, and" if they don't like it, they will have to do the other thing --dislike it. I'll jump the traces every time they try to drive me where I don't want to, and will not go, and they might as well know it first as' last. - "Very true, Archie; but I dread to-morrow. You may be certain Mrs. Folger will not forgive you." "' don't care whether she does or not; and you need not dread to-morrow on my account, for I 'll not be here." "Not be here!---why, where will you be?" My heart gave a great bound, and I could not say another word for the sudden fear that seized me. "I don't know exactly, but the world is wide, and I can find a better home than this almost anywherei in it." I remonstrated at first, and said he would change his mind by to-morrbw, when he got over his temper; but he vowed he should not, and argued his reasdns for going, so clearly, that I finally entered into his plans heart and soul. It was a daring conspiracy; but we did not lack the courage to face even the peril of defeat, and arranged our scheme with the care and deliberation of experienced plotters. I had taken the precaution to wrap myself in Aunt Eunice's heavy black-and-white plaid mourning-shawl, and fill my pocket with apples, so we were very well prepared for a long conversation. Utterly disregarding Archie's THE HEMLOCK SWAMP.' 63 digestion, I proffered him a large apple, which. he accepted, and while munching it with no inconsiderable relish, he resumed: "You see, in the nature of things, I could not stay here much longer; Matilda has madeup her mind to that. I 'll go to Wilksburgh, tell Mr. Courtwright what I have done, and ask his advice." "A very excellent plan, Archie; but you have no money; what will you do without that?" , Work !" he exclaimed, bravely, lifting his head from the pillow in the sudden energy of a noble determination. "Work, Eva; there is always something for willing hands to do; and, come what may, I can't be worse off than I am here. " I pondered a moment, and all at once a happy thought struck me. "I'll tell you what I'll do, Archie: I will give you all the money! have in my bank. There is more than ten dollars, and that is quite a big sum. I don't want it, and you may have it all--every cent," I cried, eagerly, delighted that I had found the way out of the main difficulty. Archie hesitated; he knew how dearly I prized the hoarded treasure of my toy-bank, but the offer was one that, accepted or refused, might make or mar his whole future life. At last he said, and his voice lingered sweetly on my name: "I 'll take it, Eva, and repay it a thousand times over some day. " He put his arms about my neck, and drew my face down to him, kissing me again and again on lips, and cheek, and brlow. Dear Archie , he had already repaid me a thousand times! The boyish hands that held me close to his loving heart were tremulous as the clasp of a sorrowful girl, and his beautiful eyes, with all the anger dead in their dusky depths, were looking up at me through a misty brightness of tears. ;i page: 64-65[View Page 64-65]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 64-65 " THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. ' - Dear, dear Archie, I could have sacrificed my life for him! It was agreed that we should take the bank to the Swamp ini the morning, and -there rifle it of its precious contents. And each of us solemnly promised never to reveal the dark secret while we lived. It was near midnight when our conference ended, and I arose to go. I kissed him once again, trying to choke back the rising sobs, and then I left him alone in the dusk and silence. I gave one backward look at the bed, standing like a ragged catafalque in the middle of the dismal garret, wanly shadowed by the faint, cold starlight, and dimly i saw the rich plenty of his dark hair scattered over the pillow, and thought, with a pang- of intense anguish, "To-morrow night there will be no need of my comin{g here, to-morrow night Archie will be gone!" There was no sleepfor me that night. I went to my room, lighted the bit of candle Mrs: Folger graciously allowed me, and busily set to work repairing Archie's clothes for the great event of the morrow. There was a button to sew on his jacket, a broken spot in his coat to be darned, and a hole in his mitten which needed attention. I sat in the middle of the bed, the better to keep something like warm, with the thick mourning-shawl pinned close under my chin, and my blue, benumbed fingers barely able to retain the thimble, or determine whether the needle was a- needle or a crow-bar. The window-panes were all a-sparkle with the frost, and the feeble flame of the candle was like a glow- worm's spark in the midst of a dark meadow. So the gray winter dawn found me, and ushered in the joyous Christmas morning to once more gladden the earth. I was down-stairs early, and attended to my usual house- hold duties as if nothing had happened. Matilda seldom entered the kitchen before breakfast, and I knew my father THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 65 would not be over-anxious to renew the contest of last even- ing, not, at least, until he had fortified his inner man by a cup of coffee. Mr. Folger, when not urged by his wife, was naturally a timid person, and dreaded nothing so much as a wordy strife, such as his lady revelled in, and ordinarily - bore off the palm. And I hoped that by the time he had forced his courage to the sticking-point, Archie would be off, and securely beyond the reach of capture. - Archie nodded when he saw me, as much as to say he had not changed his mind, and immediately after breakfast, which we prudently partook of in the kitchen, he whispered that he was ready; and in five minutes we had on our out door garments, and only lingered a moment to speak a last word to Aunt Eunice - that was Archie's part, not mine- before we started for the Hemlock Swamp, two arch con- spirators as ever meditated the overthrow of an empire. "A merry Christmas, aunty!" said Archie, with assumed gayety, going up to the window where she stood pensively looking out at the snowy landscape. She turned quickly and gave him a hearty kiss. "A merry Christmas to you, Archie, and many of them. Bless the dear boy! how you do grow like your mother. It's a pity she was not spared to see more Christmas morn- ings than -she did. The Lord's ways must be right,. but, I declare, I sometimes fail to see it. Howsoever, I suppose, I am too blind a mortal to judge. Ah, well-a-day, you will be a man afore long, and then you will be master of your own actions, and may do as you please. I 1heard what you said last night. I cannot blame you, for it was natural to speak as you did, considering who you were speaking to - Mrs. Folger, I mean; but I would not repeat it, deary; it is only stepping on thorns, and they wound you the most, after all." Archie promised to" heed her wise :1insel, . I alone understanding the ambiguity of his contrite mtaiar.. Aunt i 6* E page: 66-67[View Page 66-67]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 66-67 5 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. Eunice wiped the slow trickling tears from her faded cheeks, and watched the dear boy go down the snow-covered path to the gate, little dreaming how long a time, howvery long a time it would be, before she should see his handsome face again. CHAPTER VII. THE BURGLARY OF THE BANK. 'T was a crisp cold morning, but I was all in a glow of excitement, with the bank safely concealed under my shawl, -and every step one of mixed sadness and exultation. Archie was about to run away, and I was about to facilitate his departure. And the coolness and deliberation with which-we carried out our dangerous scheme, I cannot now recall without inward fear and trembling. We had not been to the Swamp for many weeks, and it seemed elysium to us. The still density of the winter foliage shut us in on every side, and the turmoil of home, and its uncongenial asso- ciations, were left behind. When we had reached the crooked old root of our favorite hemlock, we sat down, and gravely handed Archie the bank. It was a child's toy money-box, made of tin handsomely painted, and above the delicate impression of a false door was the word bank in red and blue letters, surmounted by a bee-hive around which floated any number of golden bees, and intended, I pre- sume, to impress the mind of the young with habits of industry and economy. A small aperture in the cupola admitted of placing the coin within, but there was no feasible way provided for getting it out. The bank con- tained all my life-long hoardings. My baby toothing-piece, and all my Christmas, New-year, and birthday coins up to ' 66 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 67 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. the coming of the present Mrs. Folger, since which time my baik deposits had not increased. Archie took it as gravely as it was offered, shook it, and turned it upside-down and downside-up, sorely perplexed, as well as myself, as to how we were to get at the contents. Great as was this first sacrifice of my young existence, I did not falter when he solemnly announced that the bank must be broken in order to obtain the money. This was a griev- ous alternative, for I had hoped to save the pretty bank from injury, and return it to its old place on the swinging book- shelf in my room before Matilda missed it, or could guess what had become of its wealth. A reluctant shiver crept over me, travelling from my lips to my heart, and back again, ere I could quite stifle it. The feeling was quickly suppressed, however, without Archie ever suspecting it had existed, and his doubtful- " Shall we break it, Eve?" was promptly answered by my emphatic -- " Break it, Archie." A stone lying handy, half imbedded in the moss and leaves, soon began the work of demolishment. A vigorous blow, and off came the cupola; another wrench, and the roof was started; a final put, and the destruction .of my dearly cherished bank was accomplished. Archie emptied the money into my lap, and carefully counted it piece by piece. Ten dollars and thirty-three cents,-that was the exact amount,- a very respectable sum, we thought, for any boy to commence the world on. Neither of us, earnest and resolute as we were, realized in the smallest degree what we were doing, or comprehended the vast responsibility we were calmly taking upon ourselves. Archie was to go away, and -I was to help him, that was the main question, and beyond that we had neither pufirpose nor thought. It was the' rashness of two poor oppressed children, knowing and caring nothing for the risk to be encountered, and utterly unconscious of the, peril they un- wittingly courted. Archie put the money in his pocket with page: 68-69[View Page 68-69]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 68-69 68 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. a satisfied- air, and, no doubt, he felt himself abundantly able to cope with any millionaire in the universe. But the robbed and ruined bank must be disposed of in some decent way. Together we dug a hole under the hem- lock-root, where the ground was not frozen, and there, tenderly wrapped in a shroud of soft moss and faded leaves, we buried the mutilated bank. Archie pressed- down the earth evenly above it, and scattered over the spot a few dry leaves and twigs, that it might resemble the surrounding surface. This sad task finished, he turned from the queer little grave, and said, his manner singularly pleading and earnest: "When you are older, Eva, you must not let gimon Post love you; I mean, you must not love Simon Post." "What, Ilove Simon Post! i' The supposition was too preposterous for a serious refuta- tion, nevertheless it startled me. "Love Simon?--why, I hate himr, Archie!" "Yes, I know you do now, but he likes you-- I can see ,it in his eye. I used to think he only did it to torment me, but, of late, I really believe he means it. And she- Matilda, you know- may drive you into favoring him after I am gone. You will have a little money of your own when you become of age-Simon not a. dime, and the Posts, you may be Confident, will do all they can to0ncourage him in his wishes." j I could have laughed at the funny situation in which the supposition placed me, but Archie was so serious, I dared not, and he went on: "You will never marry him, Eva; can you faithfully pro- mise me that?" (' Never, Archie! Marry Simon-how absurd! Mrs. Foplger will never drive me into doing anything of the kind' while I have my senses." "I don't know how the thought came to impress me so THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 69 strongly, but it seemed as if I must warn you, and I have done so. Beware of Simon Post; he is a viper, Eva; trust in what I say, and every time I see his fishy eyes fixed on you, I want to knock him sprawling." "Thank you, Archie, and be assured that I will never marry him, let who may urge his suit. I sacredly pledge you my word to that; and now, pray don't say anything more about it--such ridiculous nonsense as it is; just fancy me Mrs. Simon Post!" I could not help laughing at the absurdity of the idea, and Archie, though rather ruefully, joined in my inopportune merriment. I had forgotten, for the moment, how soon he was to leave me, but my brother had not, and gently re- minded me of my forgetfulness. He looked up at the moaning tree-tops, not venturing to trust himself tog look anywhere else, and said, a lingering reluctance marking every syllable: "I must be going, Eva, or I'll not reach Wilksburgh to- day." "Well," I replied, blankly, a dreadful unnatural coldness chattering my-teeth,' and aching numbly down into' my heart. "Yes, the quicker .I go the better, for the sky is threaten- ing a snow-storm, and this is about the right hour for me to get a chance ride the most of the way. I saw Arke last week -he was here on a visit to his sister, and took Sibyl home with him to spend the holidays. I did not hint a word-of what I had -in my mind, 'for I had no knowledge that it would come so soon, but since it has, I'll make a bee- line after him, and leave the rest to chance," said Archie, affecting a cheerfulness he did not feel. - Mrs. Courtwright had been a dear friend and schoolmate of our mother's, and formerly a resident odf Litchfield. A year previous, the family, with the exception of Sibyl, a married daughter, had removed to Wilksburgh, a thrivH , : page: 70-71[View Page 70-71]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 70-71 70 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. village eighteen miles distant, and it was to the home of his mother's old friend that Archie decided to flee. Y'-'ou will have to walk a considerable distance across the lots before you can gain the highway, and it is freezing- weather outside of the Swamp," said I, a new fear filling my mind that he might perish alone in the cold, and be' found a human lump of ice by some hurrying wayfarer. "Oh, I don't mind. I'll-run like a deer when I strike the fields, and there is sure to be plenty of teams on the road to-day," he apswered, cheerily. "You are warm now, are you not? I anxiously interro- gated, wondering why I was feeling so oddly cold. i; I' Oh, you may believe I am," he replied; carefully re- :adjusting his comforter and pulling closer his ear-mufflers preparatory to a scamper across the fields. "Now you must not worry, Eva. Mr. Courtwright is cer- tain to'help me. All I have to do is to ask him. I'll work at anything until spring, and I will soon get the hang of being independent and taking care of myself. I have no thought of staying at Wilksburgh, you know, any length of time, for father might bring me back, and that I am bound to avoid at all events. I'll not be cold; don't you be afraid of that. I am tough, I can tell you, and not likely to freeze so easy. And now good-bye, and don't'cry; that's a good girl." He paused, but I could not speak for the tears drowhing miy utterance. He glanced at me wistfully, and said, very tenderly - . "I wish you would promise me, Eva, to come here every Christmas morning, then there will be one day in the year when I shall know just- where you are.'" "Oh, I will, Archie. I will come here every Christmas morning of my life as long as I remain at the farm. I will come here to the old hemlock, and you may know it is dear to me hereafter only for your sake," I cried; catch- THE AEMLOCK SWAMP. / 7I ing eagerly at the fancy, and impetuously giving my promise. "' That is my own darling sister!" he exclaimed, quite as impulsively. "Although I am ever so far away, I will pic- ture you standing here under the hemlocks, every Christmas morning, and their murmur, wherever I may chance to hear it, will be to me a name - the sweetest name. Eveleen, Eveleen! hark, they are whispering it now! Sweet Eve- leen, Eveleen! Why, it's the daintiest and dearest music to me in the world." "Oh don't, Archie, you will break my heart," I moaned, unable to control my anguish. "You are all I have to love, and you are going to leave me. It will be so lonesome for me, and the days so long-so dreadfully, drearily long. But you will come back some day--some bright, glad day in the future!" "Indeed I will, Eva. I will come back to you, and to provide for the future comfort and happiness of my precious sister shall be the grand purpose of my life." Iclung to him in a passion of unrestrained grief. The noble boy was my all in all, and it was almost death to part with him like this. Archie struggled -manfully to keep up a brave demeanor, and succeeded in calming me sufficiently to listen to his part- ing instructions. "You must not get frightened, no matter how close they corner you, Eva. Aunt Eunice will back you up, and she is always -too much for Matilda when she fairly mounts her high horse. Mrs. Folger has not seen the last of me, by no man- ner of means. When I am of age, I will drop in on her unawares, and thank her to settle up old accounts. But I : must be off. You will not want me to stay when you know it is for my interest to go. There, good-bye again, dear, - dear Eva."' - He caught me to his heart. I felt a quivering kiss burn - : * :", page: 72-73[View Page 72-73]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 72-73 72 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. down on my forehead; then he quiickly put me from his arms, and dashed off through- the trees at a mad pace. I stood alone under the low drooping branches, and saw him disappear in a voiceless hush of despairin sorrow. It was my first great grief. The sun had gone ot/t of my sky, and the world was a wilderness of shadows. The fringy end of the red comforter fluttered brightly over his shoulder, and it seemed to me like a cruel, blood-stained hand waving back a last mocking adieu; and- the brittle twigs snapping be- neath his running footsteps, seemed the harshest sound my ear had ever heard., How still it was, grandly, solemnly still, and I was alone in the funereal solitude! I crouched, half kneeling on the hemlock-root, and cried, bitterly cried. I wanted to suffer. I wanted some one to abuse me that I might feel myself an outcast like Archie. Why could n't I die, and be buried under the moss and leaves like my poor- little bank? Why need people live when they did not want to? A great ugly crow circled lazily above the hem- lock, and its hoarse caw, caw, croaked discordantly through the, calm air. It was not the company I liked. I hate a crow of all things. The black, slowly undulating wings folded up, like a pall from beneath which a coffin has just been taken, and the ill-omened bird airily -alighted in the top of the hemlock, and from its lofty perch peered down at me with a curious familiarity which nearly drove me wild,--every once: in a while lifting and settling its hideous wings, and giving utterance to a dismal caw, caw, caw, three times in succession, as if that were the limit of its vocal powers. Perhaps it was meditating the resurrection of my bank. Crows are proverbial body-snatchers. I sprang to my feet, and hurled at it all the sticks and stones within my reach. But it would not stir, and continued to flutter and croak in the very face of my frantic assault. - I tore off my shawl and flourished it wildly like a banner of defiance, but the sombrous bird in the tree-top only cawed the louder.- In -'. THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 73 desperation I wrapped my head in the shawl, shut my eyes and ears from light and sound, and rocked myself- to and fro, in a perfect abandon of tears and superstitious fear. At last the intrusive crow unfurled its grim pinions and flew away. I heard the slow flap, flap, of its heavy wings as it sluggishy took its flight through the windless, wintery air, and with its departure I felt as if an evil spirit had been exorcised. I It was the first time I had ever been alone in the, wamp, and I was strangely nervous and timid. With- brother, I was bold and confident, but now a hare crossing the path, or the sudden plunge of a partridge among the laurels, filled me with alarm. And I had promised Archie to come here. every Christmas morning. Yes, and I would come. He should know one day in the year just' where I was. Every- thing was so desolate, and lonely, and sad. The sound of my own footsteps frightened me, and I went home thor- oughly miserable and broken-hearted. ' I wasz careful to shun- the sitting-room and Mrs. Folger. If Aunt Eunice noticed my tear-reddened nose and eyes, she probably ascribed it to the sharp outdoor weather, and not to any more serious cause. When -I entered the kitchen, she was busy attending to the browning of her Christmas turkey, a rare bit of culinary perfection which she never submitted to the less artistic supervision of Keziah. When dinner was over, and the'family had left the dining- room, I mechanically began clearing the table, and I came near crying outright when I saw dear Aunt Eunice put a generous portion of turkey on a plate, and place it in the stove-oven to keep warm for Archie. I looked at the -plump, brown drumstick and savory dressing through fast coming tears. Archie had such a keen appreciation of that particular part. Oh dear, where would he eat. his Christmas dinner? The fringy end of a red com- 7 page: 74-75[View Page 74-75]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 74-75 74 THE HEMLQCK SWAMP. forter fluttered again before my vision, and ,the plate and the drumstick transformed themselves into a battered child's bank, despoiled of its treasure, and hidden under the hem- lock root. The tears would come, and I had not the will nor the wish to- check them. "What is the matter, child?" queried Aunt Eunice, stop- ping in her brisk walk-from the stove to question the source of my trouble. "I--I don't think Archie will want any dinner to-day, aunty," I faltered, between my sobs. "Not want any dinner?" she echoed, staring at me suspiciously. "No-o, he will not be hungry, and- you need not put anything in the oven to keep warm for him, never again, aunty." . She replaced on the table the dish of cold vegetables she was about removing to the pantry, and came close up to me. "Did not Archie return from the Swamp with you?" ', No, aunty; how could he, after-after last night?" "'I do believe, .Eveleen Folger, that the boy has' run away,- and that you have been helping him off." "' Yes, he is gone, Aunt Eunice, gone for a long, long time; and my heart is aching so. Oh, what shall I do, what shall I do, without poor Archie to love, and him to love me! But you must not tell, aunty; he must get away before they know," I exclaimed, all in a tremble of tears and excitement. She drew my head to her motherly breast, and s6ftly rested her withered chin on my rumpled hair. Ah, the dear old face bowed in loving solicitude above me was my single comfort now! , r.. "Never fear my telling," she said, a thoughtful slowness in her tone; " it ig no more than I expected, but, deary ie, it hurts deeply, after all. I knew he was hating her, Mid that beast of a Simon, more and more, every day; and thqy , t"h; y da THE HEMLOCK 'SWAMP. 75 have finally pushed and tormented him until he is fairly, crowded out of the house - and the house, too, that was his mother's, and some small share of which, thank heaven, is still mine. I vo'w, it is a burning shame, that it is! '" pro, nounced Aunt Eunice, mingling the cogent assertion of herd sorrow and possessions and indignation in one common channel. "But for you two poor motherless children, I'd have demanded my own, and left this place years ago; I would, indeed!" "Oh, aunty, don't you think of leaving me," I cried, "I could not live with nobody in the world to love me." "Leave you? Not I. I'll hold out against them to the last breath. I am not to be driven off until I am ready to go, and if any person believes -to the contrary, let them-try it. Archibald Folger's wife will hold you to account for what you have been helping to do this day, and what will your defence be then, Eva?" I began to tremble and look terribly frightened. "What then?" repeated Aunt Eunice loftily, as if eager for the fray, and sure of victory. "What then? Why, then she will find that I have a word to say sharper than any I have said yet. She will get a piece of my mind, that she - will, and I'll fet her know what I think and what I'II do- too, if she is not civil with herself. It's been on the end of my tongue twenty/times, but I held in for Archie's sake; and now-well, thank the Lord, there are other women in - the world who have a tongue in their head, besides Mrs. : Matilda Folger." Aunt Eunice spoke with great energy, and I did not feel- ' so much afraid of my stepmother as the occasion might - warrant. The day Wore on, and as yet the true cause of Archit's, ' absence had not been suspected. Mrs. Folger believed him ; - to be -keeping aloof on account of the recent quarrel, and , : set-his non-appearance down to a mere " fit of the sulks." :*i page: 76-77[View Page 76-77]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 76-77 ;76 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. I was glad -when night came, that I might go fo my room, and be away from every one. I made a pretence of going to bed -early, but it was impossible for me to sleep, my mind was so full of Archie. Where was he? Had he reached Wilksburgh in safety? Had Mr. Courtwright received him kindly? A hundred unanswerable questions disturbed my :thoughts. I got up and stole off to the garret. The weak -old bed was there, looking as it did when he left -it in the morning, -the nest-like hollow in the middle, and the lank pillow yet bearing the impress of his dear head. The old furniture, the bundle of wool, and -the herbs and the wasps-nest, were still there; but my brother was gone. The pale, icy light, stealing in, at the solitary window, was like a wan star showing me the place from whence my dead had been taken; and the wind, soughing bleakly without, and zrattling with-invisible fingers the sash, seemed to me phantom whispers of -the pitiless blast blowing dark and cold across /the young wanderer's pathway. I buried my face in the pillow where only last nighti his restless- head had lain, arid there sobbed myself to sleep. It was daybreak when I awoke, dreadfully chilled, and a dull i pain: racking,my temples; :and I was infinitely surprised ito discover that I was dressed, iand had actually slept in the garret all night. I hurrtf:: down stairs, and astonished :Keziah in the act of kindK g: the kitchen-fire. She wanted to know why I was up so early, but I evaded a direct reply, and watched her spry preparations for getting the breakfast in utter silence. - The coffee was:boiling, -and the ham broiling, when she ,clapped the griddle on the stove, and briskly stirred up the -buckwheat cakes, which she -pronounced "as light as a feath-er, arid not a bit sour.' :'At this juncture Aunt' Eunice' appeared, and her first-act was to give me a -very tender kiss, for which I was very grateful. It encouraged me won' derfully. THE HEMLOCK S'WAMP. " "( I never did* see how dem Posts do eat buckwheats, like as if da never has none to home, and to--my mind da dos- ent," grumbled Keziah, whirling around the griddle to equalize the heat. "Dar, I hope dis pile will do 'em, -for - I I 'clare I's tired bakin'; but what's a body to do when dar's no fill up to some folks?" Keziah stalked out with her plate of steaming cakes, in great disgust of the Post appetite for backwheats, apd breathing no pleasant opinion of the-Post family-larder. She had barely returned, when my name was called in a peculiarly sharp manner: "Eveleen, come here right away! Eveleen, do you hear? I did hear, and knew very well what the commanding summons inmplied. Aunt Eunice lifted her head belligerently, and I saw she was on the afert and ready for immediate action, no matter what turn affairs might take. CHAPTER VIII. MY ARRAIGNMENT. BOTH my father and his wife were austerely awaiting ? me, and it was only the nearness and defensive'sym- pathy of Aunt Eunice that kept my heart from -altogether failing me. Mrs. Folger took the initiative. 1 "Do you know where Archie is?'., she inquired, in a constrained voice, striving to subdue her temper, and appear : turely magisterial. "No." I -aid it unhesitatingly, and I spoke the truth, nor I did not know where Archie was. "Are you sure you are not telling a falsehood?" tersely interposed Mr. Folger. page: 78-79[View Page 78-79]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 78-79 ts THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. "'I am telling the truth, sir," and' my indignant eyes looked him squarely in the face. Mr. Folger materially changed the tenor of his question. "When did you last see Archie?" "Yesterday." I was getting surprisingly brief and non. committal. , "Where?" I had never seen my father so curtly, severe. "In the Hemlock Swamp." ' I 'll warrant it; and you know, Eveleen, I positively forbade your going there," exclaimed Mrs. Folger, with a 'reprehensory toss of'her head 'toward me, and an injured 'exhibition of purr towards her husband, who did not seem to heed it, and saliently, resumed his interrupted inter- rogations. ;. ' And you say you do not know where Archie is, then, Eveleen?"- "No, sir, Hdo not." - - "He was not at home last night. " { I know it."' "Then why did you n6t speak of it? I am astonished at you, Eveleen." A " I did not speak of it because I did not suppose any one would care whether he was at home or absent--hardly 'whether he was living or dead, so that he gave no trouble to anybody.' I spoke earnestly and I spoke bitterly. My father perceptibly winced, and his wife flared up on the instant. . ' A pretty scandal this is to get around among the neigh- -bors, I must say,- and I 've put up with more from him than I ever would from one of my own children; you know I have, Archibald. You heard him talk back at me last night in the face and eyes of all my family, and he doubled his fist -at me,--you may ask Simon if he .didn't-'and it is my belief, and there are others who ibelieve it too- that THE-HEMLOCK SWA'MP. 7 he'd have struck me, if I had been alone and unpro- tected." Mrs. Folger began to show signs of lachrymal agitation, and had immediate recourse to her pocket-handkerchief. "Yes, Archibald, nobody knows what I have put up with from that boy. I have not liked to complain, even to my own family, because he was your child, but this-this is too much." A sobbing purr from behind the handkerchief fin- ished the sentence. Mr. Folger was distressingly cornered. The loss of his son and the injured tears of his wife quite' unnerved him. But he rallied presently, and again turned to me, looking worried and cross and displeased. "I am confident, Eveleen, that you know all about this unhappy business. It is a grave matter, a very grave matter. Your disgraceful and ungrateful conduct deserves a severe punishment, and how far I may be led to excuse you de- pends entirely upon you telling at once all you know con- cerning the present whereabouts of your brother." "I left him in the Hemlock Swamp, and I know no more than that," I replied, stoutly, and withal a little defiantly. I had caught a glimpse of Aunt Eunice standing in a listen- ing attitude just outside the door. - . My answer was-highly offensive to Mrs. Folger, and she returned to the charge with redoubled force and acri- 1 mony. ^ "He is not only a most ungrateful and unruly scamp, born for no good, but he is a thief as well, just that and nothing else, and I 'll not mince the word either-a I thief .: " Madam was now in a towering rage, and laid a scathing - accent on the obnoxious noun. ;! "A thief!" " I faced her hotly, a fierce denial quivering in my voice. i "Yes, a thief, miss, and you can't deny it." - -, d page: 80-81[View Page 80-81]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 80-81 8r, THE' HEMLOCK SWAMP. "But I do denyit. It is false- a mean, contemptible. falsehood." * "Eveleen Folger, hold your tongue! I will not suffer youre impertinence." r; "Then you must not-speak ill of my brother; and I do say-" ' "What! that that I lie " ; Yes; you, or anybody else, who says that Archie is a thief, for it is a straight-out untruth." "Is. it, indeed; then where is your bank? it is my opinion that you will-find it among the missing.' She knew it to be my treasure of .treasures, and her flash of triumph and irony was eminently worthy of Mrs. Matilda Folger. "-My bank may be gone, but Archie did not take it." - " Who did, then?" with increasing asperity. ' I did. It was mine. I had a right to do as I liked with its and .I gave it to Archie. I only wish it had been ten times more- a thousand .times more, he should have had it all." = . - The ring of exultation with which I uttered the words exasperated her exceedingly. c, You saucy, deceitful girl, you are no better than your. brother. Thank God, you are none of iny blood; I'd think I was cursed of heaven if you were!" Her sneering allusion to my dead mother, covert and., catty, aroused all there was of fierce retort in my nature: Mr. Folger was quite nowhere in the recriminating wrangle, and no doubt Aunt EUnice thought I was getting on very wellwithout her aid. 'In truth, I rather plumed myself on -being considered as wicked and saucy as my brother. ' Yes, I did help Archie to run away, and I am proud ;of it, tI did not dissuade him- from going,for you made his; life so wretched here;- you hectored and teased-and misrepresented himn the moment you put- your ....foot int o p THE HEMLOCK SWAMP, 81r this house; you know you have, and you did it on purpose to drive him away. And I will not hear him slandered, nor my mother unkindly alluded to, least of all by yom." Where did I get such a temper? I was boiling, I who hitherto had been submission itself.. I was-a led at my own temerity. It was the insanity of ion -a wild, hysterical outhurst of uncontrollable of and resentment; and my ungovernable tongue cou Tnot find words' fast enough to satisfy the bitter outpouring of my excited heart. "If I knew where Archie is this very minute, I would not tell, - I would n't if you killed me. I hope he will go miles and miles away from Litchfield, and never come back until he is a man, and then you dare not misuse him. You cannot prevent his growing, and he will be a man some day . in spite of you." "Silence!" sternly commanded my father, recovering his voice; and I did need silencing; for a girl of fourteen, I was behaving outrageously, and looking the whirlwind of passion I was. ' "Eveleen, have you taken leave of your senses, that you presume to address your mother in this style - " ^ "She is not my mother. Archie and I never admitted it, and we never will. We said so from the first, and we mean so to the end." ' I "Eveleen, this language must cease-" , * -"Oh, no; let her go on, let every one abuse me," sarcas- tically interrupted his wife. "It is no matter, H am used to it. Your children, Archibald, have made my life one of unmitigated suffering." / . 7 "Then it shall be So no longer. Eveleen, you must beg i this lady's pardon. If not your mother, she is my wife, and you have grossly insulted her." ; "She insulted me first. She called my ibrother a thief. i t Let her beg my pardon first, and then I will implore hersi" - I answered, flippantly. F page: 82-83[View Page 82-83]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 82-83 82. THE HEMLOCK S WAMPR. '"Oh, you insolent little baggage, come with me, I'll see if you are not to be managed," said Matilda, grasping me by the arm, and pulling me after her by main strength. I pulled back with all my might, stiffly scraping my feet along the floor, and doing my best to make the exertion as fa- tiguing to her as I could. I do not deny that I was very pro- voking, or that I did not richly merit a little sharp punish- ment,--and so, I presume, thought Mrs, Folger, for she raised her hand and gave me a smart cuff on the ear nearest to her disengaged digits. I jerked away from her, and glantced nervously toward the door. Aunt Eunice did not disappoint me, and was by my side in a second - her gaunt form drawn up to a rigid height, and her silver-rimmed glasses all awry. "Let her alone, Mrs. Folger; don't lift your hand against her again. She is of my blood, thank heaven, not yours, and 'll11 not stand by and see it trampled on. And you do - speak falsely, Matilda Folger, when you accuse my sister's son of being a thief. I am not the woman to uphold the impudence of anybody's chil dren; but the boy has been shamefully neglected, and made to serve second where he had a right to be first. And a brave, true-hearted child he was, too, that you should have been proud of, Mr. Folger, and looked after and loved, let who would try to crowd him out of: :your heart. And he to be called a thief in your preence, and you to hear it tranquilly -it 's a shame to yo ARihibald Folger, and I say it to your face. And you his faither, when you know his mother -I suppose you have some little memory left--was a gentle, delicate creature, loving and beautiful, and a real lady, such as I have not seen in this house since her poor dead body was carried out of it." Mrs. Folger had had quite-enough of the spinster's ret- rospective eloquence, and attempted a tart reply, but cour- age:ous old Eunice cut her short. She was on her high horse, and not- easily to be got down. - - THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 83' "I am ready to leave this roof at any time, but Eveleen goes with me; and I would thank you for my lawful dues, too, before I go. I am not beholding, I 'd have you to know, and you may depend that all Litchfield shall under- stand the kind of treatment I have received, as well as the children. Nice church-people you are--inviting the minister to tea, and making a great show of piety where there ain't in truth an atom. " Mrs. Folger retained a wholesome regard for public opin- ion, was a member of the Baptist church, and liked to be thought by her neighbors both a very exemplary stepmother and a good Christian. What she had of temper, malice, and promiscuous Satan, she wished to keep exclusively for home consumption, and under no circumstance allow it to become the common gossip of the village. Mr. Folger, on the other 1 hand,--and he was quite as careful as his wife to stand well in the eyes of the church and his neighbors,-- possessed also a man's keen financial forethought, and it flashed unpleasantly through his mind, that just now it would be very incon- venient either to divide the-farm or to pay Aunt Eunice the principal and accrued interest of the funds belonging to her ' - in his hands - very inconvenient indeed; the better way would be to be conciliating,- to take advantage of that discre- tion which is undoubtedly the wisest valor; and so consider- ing, Mr. Folger prudently left the ro'om. The conversation, especially since Aunt Eunice had as- sumed my championship, was altogether distasteful to him, and, moreover, the disappearance of Archie must be investi- gated. It would never do to let him go without some show : of search and anxiety. Mrs. Folger, basely deserted by her husband, was griev- - ously incensed anew, and seeing no one else on whom she could safely vent her wrath, she caught' me again by the - - X arm, and this time her grasp was painfully rough. Before Aunt Eunice could interfere, a slender, shapely hand inter. posed, and Simon's voice said, low and distinctly: ! ^' " ' ' ' :1.. page: 84-85[View Page 84-85]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 84-85 84 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. "No, no,- you must rnot hurt her, Matilda,--no, not Eyeleen." He gently drew me away, and placed himself between me and his sister. "What, you too turn against me, Simon? Well, I am very prettily situated," "I do not turn against you, Matilda,* but Eva does not really know what she is saying. Archie was more to her than any one else; she has cried herself sick and frantic, and is irresponsible, -and--and she is not to be harshy dealt with." "Thank you, Simon." I gave him both my hands, and lookedlat him in un- disguised wonder. Could it be Simon, so gentle and firm and sensible!- Simon, whom I had snubbed and hated and despised,--light-eyed, pale-browed Simon! 1 I was humbled and conquered myt anger had gone, and the reaction was a flood of passionate tears. "I did cry, and sleep cold in the garret all night, and I don't know half what I 've said or done; but forgive me, whatever it was. Archie did not steal the bank: I gave it to him. I did, I did!!"I cried, in a tumult of sobs, peni- tence, and protestations. "Nobody loved him, nobody cared for him but me, and it made me say wicked things, and think a great many more worse ones." And with that I threw myself in a shapeless heap on- the sofa, and hid my stained, wet face on the little worsted pillow. "Well, cry it out if you like. I should only be subject- ing myself to additional insults if I said anything one way or the other," was Mrs. Folger's brusque conclusion; where- upon she flung herself from the room, and shut the door with significant force. "I suppose she has gone to blow up Archibald for slip- ping off in the rmanner he did, and I heartily hope she will. I am sure. I've been in better company, so she don't spite me any by going," said Aupt Eunice, apostrophizing, as it were, the receding footsteps of Matilda. THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 85 Simon had retired to his former seat by the fire, and took no further notice of what was going on. Aunt Eunice came and smoothed my hair, and tried to be consoling. "Up in the garret all night, poor dear! no wonder you are sick! There now, lie still and go to sleep --that is a dear child!" "Oh, aunty, my head aches so, and I feel so bad; how will I ever get over it?" "Why, I just told you, dear, lie still and go to sleep." I was silent, and after a moment of sedative fondling, Aunt Eunice left me laboring under the delusive idea that I was sound asleep. She closed the door carefully, a direct rebuke to Mrs. Folger's ireful bang, and I was alone, as I thought, for I had forgotten the existence of Simon in the chimney- corner. I moaned, and tossed, and buried and unburied my hot, aching head in the sofa-pillow, and cried as hard as ever I could the moment she was gone; and a more forlorn, limp, shivering being it would be impossible to imagine. Presently I felt a timidly -gentle hand touch my shoulder.. I took it to be the furtive manipulation of Elbert Victor's curious fingers, and impatiently tried to shrug my shoulder out of his reach. "Oh, go away! your hand is creepy, and I am 'sick as I - can be." e "Well, then, don't cry so, Eva." I lifted my head quickly. Elbert Victor was innocent of the charge. The creepy touch belonged to Simon. "I am sorry you feel so badly, Eva." "Sorry? you are not a bit sorry. You know you hated him. And you shan't touch me. Keep your hand off! it feels ugly." He did as I crossly commanded. "I am sorry for -you. I did not mean Archie." "I don't want you to be sorry for me," said I, pettishy. 8 page: 86-87[View Page 86-87]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 86-87 86 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. "But you said, 'Thank you, Simon,' only a moment ago." "Did I?" "Yes, and you meant it." "Well, perhaps I did then.' -' Don't you now?" "Oh, pray don't bother! Yes, it was kind of you, and I am very ,grateful. There no*, do go away and let me alone." His face was radiant, and down the long braids of my hair his hand wandered fondly. I was too tired to resist or remonstrate; besides, the slow mesmeric motion was soothing and I fell asleep. When I awoke, two hours later, Simon still sat by the sofa, his hand resting lightly and with a cer- tain caressing droop on the pillow above my head, and his expression was that of silent beatitude. Not a noisy young Folger had dared to enter the room. Simon's impressive "hush!" and warning firnger had scared them out as often as one ventured to intrude his cufly white head. Mr. Folger made a commendable effort to discover the hiding-place of the absconded Archie, but without success. He was traced to Wilksburgh, and Mr. Courtwright admit- ted that he had seen him; otherwise he was quite reticent, and Mr. Folger was fain to be satisfied. In fact, it was no part of Mrs. Folger's plan to have the absent son brought back. He stood too much in the way of her children's interests, as well as her own, and, perhaps, that of Simon. Four days subsequent to Archie's disappearance, Arke- Courtwright privately informed me that my, brother had reached Wilksburgh without accident and in good spirits, and his father had sent him south with a friend- a mercihant of wealth and position, who would give him employment, and also promised to take a friendly interest in his future wel- fare. , THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 87, CHAPTER IX. TWO OFFERS. CHRISTMAS after Christmas came and went,.marking each a year in their flight, and I rapidly grew away from my childhood and up to womanly stature. I was said tobe handsome, that is, I had regular features, dark hair and eyes, and what is termed a good figure; so, without unseemly egotism, I had ample reason to esteem myself a rather fine- looking young lady. I was seventeen; a nonentity in my father's house, with one exception, - Aunt' Eunice and old Keziah were nonentities also, -but I was sufficiently ad- mired outside of it. Tire one exception was Simon Post.- If ever a shy, patient love slept in blue, lack-lustrous eyes, it slept in Simon's. It was no use frowning and treating him with open disfavor, he took it all serenely, and with a meek, angelic air of injured innocence that sometimes almost made me hate him. What was Simon's love; spoken or unspoken, to me? what to me his patient, bashful devotion? Nothing whatever. From my childhood, Arke Courtwright had been the hero of my girlish dreams. Frank; energetic, and in- dustrious, he was the very opposite of secretive, listless, in- dolent Simon, and I had promised, although so young, to be- come his wife. It occurred, I believe, in the ordinary way, and with none of the silly circumlocutiontso largely ascribed' to the romantic lovers who figure in fashionable novels. I remember the time very well. It was a balmy summer evening,- fragrant with bud and blossom, and the peaceful beauty of earth and sky seemed to invite the asking and the giving away of heart and hand. Said Arkle, in his straightforward manly fashion: c, We have known and loved one another all our lives, and, now, Eveleen, when will you be my wife?" page: 88-89[View Page 88-89]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 88-89 1S8 , THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. "When you have won a home for me -a pleasant humble home; come for m[ then, Arke, and I am yours." t AAnd this was my plain, common-sense betrothment. Arke did not curl down on his knees, and stammer and implore, and make a consummate dunce of himself; nor did I dis- solve into a sea of tears, and throw myself headlong upon his breast in the approved novel style. I am no believer in 'the stereotyped absurdities, so intensely unnatural and over- drawn, as are depicted in many popular works of fiction by a host of abnormally romantic story-tellers, who, if their acts are anything like their precepts, must be a dangerous class of people, fit only for a lunatic asylum or immediate emigration to Salt Lake City. If a man loves a woman, let him tell her so fairly and sincerely, and let he r be equally candid and free from the despicable affectation of nerves and coquetry. Now, to make the usual effective and morally hurtful plot necessary for the construction of a first-class sensational novel, Arke should have behaved very badly. He shouldhave done something worthy of a cell in the penitentiary, if this eminence had not already been achieved, and be of a violent and erratic temper; fiercely jealous and suspicious without the faintest shadow of a; cause, and he should have deceived me,-a dark secret of his youth basely withheld from me; - and I, knowing that he adored me, and professing to madly worship him, should at the same time have flirted desperately with the gentleman he particularly disliked, and angered and, braved him in a most wilful and lady-like manner. Which, of course, would lead to no end of exhilarating quarrels, sharp misunderstandings, and a grand display of pride on the part of both. When it comes to this pass, only a sprained ankle,- the lady caught and kept from swooning full-length on the floor by a doting but estranged lover,-- the timely running away of a fiery steed with wilful lady, who is rescued from certain death by faithful but alienated lover; "- :i THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. .g or the going each in haughty mood to that inevitable pic- nic, where chance is sure to put them in a frail little boat alone. .Lover sullen and cruel, lady pensive and beautiful, as a houri. She reaches her hand for that inevitable pond- .lily-over goes the boat, lover to the rescue, denouement in the water. Fond and frantic words are uttered, wet garments and hair and hands are wrung, and a lasting re- conciliation is effected. But Arlke and I had nothing of all this. I had no reason to sprain my ankle, fall from a vicious horse, or tumble out of a boat. Our betrothal was very shabby and commonplace, no doubt, but we loved and be- lieved in one another with a mutual reciprocity of trust and fidelity which was too securely planted in our hearts to ad- mit of jealous distrust toward or self-segregation from the one object held dearest in our affections. Arke went away, single of purpose and steadfast as the sun, and between us there was naught but confidence and entire devotion. Our hopes and plans were one, as our lives were i by-and-by to be, and it was meet that I should have no clouds in that direction. I kept my secret, for it was really, nothing to anybody but myself. I had no mother to con- sult; my father was quite a strange gentleman to whom my happiness was not of the first importance; and Aunt Eunice should know all in good time. The home associations with which I had grown up early inculcated within me a spirit of reserve foreign to my years and disposition, and I wasittle given' to confiding my deeper feelings to the keeping of any one. Arke alone was the recipient of my undivided- and unreserved confidence, and there came a time when even he' was excluded,'and I shared with none my terrible fears and ' wretched unrest of conscience. During the autumn I received a second offer of marriage, quite as honest in confessionas the first, I presume, but one I would gladly have avoi i it been possible for me to do so.- page: 90-91[View Page 90-91]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 90-91 Oo , v THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. It was a mellow September afternoon, and'I stood by the garden-gate, looking at a magnificent sunset, which was purpling the western hills, and drowning all that part of the sky in a flood of golden splendor. Simon came to where I was standing, and carelessly- laid his right hand on the- bronze-colored pickets of the gate. His presence was wholly unexpected and undesired, but I tried not to seem annoyed. ' A beautiful sunset, Eva; that cloud over there is a marvel of light and beauty." "Yes, very lovely, Simon." My eyes fell from their enraptured contemplation of the effulgent glory gathered royally in the track of the vanished sun, and settled on the listless grace of his extended hand. It was -delicate--too delicate for a man, and white and strengthless as a-woman's. Not the hand for a sword, for the plough, or the pen, nor for anything apparently except the slender wrist for a bracelet, and the idle fingers for rings - of emerald and diamonds, to sparkle and quiver as they might on the hand of a girl. Arid yet in that seeming weak and passive hand of Simon's there were nerves of steel and a will of iron. I knew it whent it suddenly left the picket, and -rested firmly on my shrinking arm. Eva," his voice, at first husky, became clear and forci- ble T aEva, I want to tell you something; will you -listen?" "Certainly I will." i There was no getting away ^l I knew what was coming, and my'heart began to beat ap iehensively.' "You know I love you, Evo['ien,-ihush, do not interrupt me, you promised to listen,--and now I ask you to become my wife." Alriost the very words t/hat Arke had used on a like occa- sion. I was bewildered, and 4made a lame attempt to treat the matter lightly. ; -i Really, Simon, you do a e me! It is a very startling question." / ' THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 9- He was in no humor for trifling, and his extraordinary shortness of speech rather awed me. "You cannot evade replying so easily; I must and will have a direct answer. And you are not amazed, Eva, for you must have long ago anticipated that I would sooner or later speak as I have done." "Well, then, for heaven's sake, let it be later. Marry you . - surely, Simon, you caXnot be in earnest?" His arbitrary I' must and will " did not please me, and I tartly resented it. "You think so! Look in my face, Eveleen, and unde- ceive yourself. Read there whether I am in earnest or not." I did look, God help me! and his face was as pallid and fixed as adamant, - sternly rigid and determined as features cut in marble, and a something of latent force-and dominancy in his eyes that frightened me. : "Do you now believe me serious?" and a white, wintery smile accompanied his meaning words. . I "Oh, yes, yes, dreadfully so; but you know that I do not love you, and if I did, why -why, you could not support a wife," I cried, in desperation, catching at anything which offered me the resemblance of an excuse. "Yes, I am poor, but I may not always be so. I am going into business in the Spring, and I don't see why I should not succeed in making money, as well as other men. Tell me truly, Eva, if I had the means for providing you with a comfortable home, would that obviate the difficulty?" His face lighted magically, and eager hope took-the place . of the wintery smile. "How strangely you talk! Wait until you have the home, Simon, before you venture on proposals of this sort," Raid I, a trifle severely, for I was impatient at his imperious sup-. positions. , He gave no heed to my petulant rejoinder, and continued- in a musing tone: /s ' ' i ,-- page: 92-93[View Page 92-93]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 92-93 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. " Yes, if I were rich, it would make a difference - all the difference." "No, it would not," I hastily disclaimed, too honorable to allow him to cherish so vain a hope. "No, all the money in the universe would not induce me to alter my decision. I don't love you; that is the true objection. I never have, and I never can; so let that end it now and'forever." "' Other wonen have said the same before to-day, and yet they have lived to marry the man to whom the uncompli- mentary language was addressed." "Then do not count me as, being like those other vacil- lating women, for I never will." "Perhaps it is my name you dislike ?" Simon :always exhibited a chronic antipathy to his plain cognomen. " It is not a pretty name." " I know it, and I have not forgotten the way Archie used to twit me about it-'Sign-Post,' that was his amiable amendment of it." He drew a long, full respiration, and repeated, "no, I have not forgotten." " It was not generous of Archie, I confess, but it does sound somewhat like it," said I, unable to restrain a smile at the recollection. "I cannot help the fault of my name, Eveleen." " No, that you can't; and'it might be-worse." " Hardly worse," he replied, gloomily. " Not Simon Peter, for instance?" My unreasonable pleasantry nettled him. " Laugh, if you will; I cannot remedy the cause of your merriment." "Oh, yes, you can; there is the legislature as a dernier ressort. 'jp re me your ridicule, Eveleen, for it matters little wvh! you say. What I love as I love you, I will haVe. .~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~c Wealth will come-it shall come; and I swear before heaven my ugly name shall one dab be yours! " Never! " I retorted, fierce and fearless in my just indig- nation of his threatened coercion. " Never, I solemnly declare to you, never / Let that be your answer now and for all time; and if you do not want me to hate you utterly, as I would not wish to hate any one, never mention this re- pulsive subject to me again." I turned from him angrily, and precipitately entered the house. Simon smiled ambiguously, and muttered under his breath: "I can wait; yes, I can wait! " If Simon had his schemes, he was judicious in his manner of perfecting them, and did not again vex me with a recital of his love. Everything went on as usual outwardly, but I could not help feeling uneasy in his company for many weeks after that unfortunate conversation at the gate. As the months passed on,. however, I gradually ceased to think of him in the character of a discarded suitor, nor did I accredit his morose and distant demeanor to the disappoint- ment of unrequited love, for it was habitual to him, and essentially a part of his peculiarly unsocial nature. Arke was the centre of all my thoughts and aspirations, and there was not the smallest room left for a reflection of Simont kindly or otherwise. Excepting the morbid dread and re- pugnance I felt for him, he was less'to me than the ground I walked on. Two years went .by. I was nineteen, and the wish of my heart, as I fondly believed, very near its happy consumma- tion. It was the twenty-fourth day of December, always a marked day with me, and I sat curled up on the narrow window-ledge in a state of great self-complacency. The winter twilight slowly stealing into the room robbed me of a part of. my pleasure, for it prevented me from reading for the tenth time the dear letter from Arke, which I held page: 94-95[View Page 94-95]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 94-95 " . THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. lovingly folded in my hand. He would be with me to-mor row- blessed to-morrow, and the day of our marriage de- finitely decided upon. The old childish habit of wrapping , myself up in the warmest shawl I could find, and crawling off by myself to think and be alone, still clung to me, and to-night I had especial reason for seeking solitude and in- dulging in an hour of quiet thought. I looked from the window towards the noble old hemlocks, and vaguely wondered why they should always be bending their tall green tops eastward, as if to greet the rising sun. This homage of the kingly hemlocks was never quite clear to me, and I lost myself in a dreamy contemplation of the problem. - While I sat there listless and preoccupied, I saw the sturdy form of Burrill Otley appear above the little hill beyond the barn, and briskly take the well-beaten path which led through a portion of the Swamp. He was walking at a rapid pace, and seemed to be in a prodigious hurry. A very handsome man was Burrill Otley, athletic, and hale with the quick movements of a man in the prime of life, and one who knows himself established in the world's prosperity and favor. He wore a dark overcoat, and otter fur cap and collar and gloves. ' I noticed his dress particularly, because the weather was of Arctic temperature, and he looked so comfortable and abundantly able to brave it. Mr. Otley was not a resident of Litchfield, but he had been with us for several months in a business capacity, and was the paymaster of the new branch railroad then in pro- cess of completion, and was a gentleman of tried integrity and excellent business capabilities. I had met him a few times:; and only two days before, at a little social gathering where I happened to be in company with Simon- who was frequently my unobtrusive and taciturn escort at an evening party - Mr. Otley had made one of the number. He was a strikingly noticeable person, not only-on account of his: * * THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 95 stalwart physique and easy bearing, but he also dressed very elegantly and with exceeding good taste. He carried a heavy gold watch to which was attached' a massive chain of antique design and finish; and in his spotless shirt-bosom twinkled three tiny diamond studs, not showy paste counter- feits, but gems of the first water; and his sleeve-buttons were of the same precious stones, set in jet and gold like the studs. Nothing of the kind ever escapes the admiring scrutiny of a young girl, however furtive her gaze may be, and it did not take me long to observe and specify the main attractions of Mr.. Otley's becoming toilet. -And when I saw him striding along the path, so strong and self-reliant and indifferent to the cold and the advancing night, I natu- rally thought him to be quite a superior individual from the generality of mankind. .I watched him out of sight, listen- ing in a half reverie to the crisp snow yielding beneath his vigorous footsteps, and felt how active and true a man he was.- I raised the window to close the blinds preparatory to going, down stairs, but the evening was so remarkably calm that it tempted me to linger yet a little longer, although at the risk of a cold in the head or a possible sore throat. We did not 'live on the fashionable road generally frequented by the gay belles and beaux of Litchfield in their joyous drives, and the silvery chime of far away sleigh-bells sounded pleasantly up to my open window. A million of stars bespangled the firmament, and the whole expanse of landscape within range of my vision was one vast sheet of white purity. I gazed entranced at the snow-covered scene, and while I did so, lost .to everything about me, a pistol- shot suddenly reverberated through the oppressively still air. It was a single muffled report, and came from the direction of the Swamp. The atmosphere was so coldly calm. and hollow, that'sounds travelled an incredible distance, and I remember how mournful and solemn the softened'echo -of that solitary shot fell on my startled ear. It was not re- peated, and all again was silent as death itself. ." page: 96-97[View Page 96-97]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 96-97 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. Surely the report of a gun in the vicinity of the Hemlock Swamp ought not to be a cause of surprise, for it was no un- usual thing for belated hunters to fire a farewell shot' at .any small game that might chance to cross their path while re- turning home through the Swamp. Yet I continued to ponder; it was a very ugly sound, and I heartily wished that I had not heard it. I aroused myself at last, and was just in the act of closing the window, the blinds being half Shut already, when I saw the figure of a man stealing along the fence, and going in the direction of two large hay stacks, around which a number of cattle were quietly partaking of their nightly fodder. My eye followed the crouching figure curiously, for there was something singular about it, and I did not close the window as I intended. I could not make out a single feature, but he walked in a bent, unnatural atti- tude, like a person bowed with age, or cowering and shiver- ing from the cold. He wore a long gray coat, which reached nearly to his heels, and a cap of the same color, and straight down from his head to his feet he was all one hue of indistinguishable gray. "Some poor old shack," I thought, pityingly, " wandering hungry and homeless with- out shelter or needful clothing to protect him from the piercing cold. He probably intends making his bed in the hay, and so with all his want and wretchedness, retain his independence, and ask charity of no one." The being of my mental commiseration and vagabondish aspect, stealthily kept on his way, the old gray coat and cap making him appear little more than a moving shadow gliding noiselessly and spectre-like over the snow. It did not escape me that he carefully confined himself to the nard trodden path, never diverging to-the right or the left, and he seemed to measure every step with cautious precision, a sort of halting, listening, yet hurried gait, that was very strange, to say the least. The hunch-backed old codger was certainly an experienced THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 97 tramp, and knew how to make himself-comfortable without cost and without troubling anybody. As I had divined, the hay-stacks were his Mecca. The feeding cattle did not even lift their great intelligent heads to question, with animal instinct, the tramp's approach; they did not seem to consider it an unfriendly intruder, and the vagrant disappeared in their midst as suddenly and mysteriously as he had come. CHAPTER X. A FATEFUL CHRISTMAS MORNING. HEN I joined the family in the breakfast-room the following morning, Elbert Victor, aided by his two brothers, was deeply absorbed in the pleasing task of rum- maging his Christmas stocking, which Mrs. Santa Claus had filled to overflowing, and I was loudly called to come and examine his marvellous treasure of sugar-ples and toys. Simon had not yet made his appearance. Mrs. Folger went to the chamber-door, and in a chiding voice from the foot of the stairs reminded hini that breakfast was nearly ready. Simon replied, in a sleepy monotone, that he would soon be' down, and twenty minutes later he took his seat at the table. "Good morning, Simon, and a merry Christmas," I said, pleasantly, for I did not feel unkindly towards him. Poor fellow, his only fault, after all, was loving me, and I could not well be angry at that. He looked at me gratefully. "Good morning, Eva, and a merry Christmas to you also." "Thanks, Simon. I mean to make it a merry day," and I gayly nodded across to him my airy determination. page: 98-99[View Page 98-99]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 98-99 98 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. I religiously kept the promise I had so' thoughtlessly given to Archie, and every Christmas, as regularly as the year told round the day, I went to the Hemlock Swamp. It had long ago ceased to be a pleasure, and was really little more tha'n a disagreeable duty that I felt myself pledged to perform in act if not in wish. I was not the person to shirk a solemn promise, no matter how unwisely made, and to the Swamp I bent my steps the moment I found myself able to sli'p from the house unnoticed. I gained the peaceful shelter of the'hemlocks in considerable trepidation, and was inexpres- sib-y glad that my compulsory visits were limited to but one a year. Although the fields were covered with snow, there was scarcely any within the confines of the huge old evei- greens, and the dry leaves; and cones rustled under my feet with a crisp, autumnal sound. The whispering moan still hovered in the tree-tops, and the quiet and gloom were there, impressive and shadowy as I always remembered it; and high up above the tallest branches a depredating crow, intent on pillage, sailed around and around in a dizzy circle, making the air hideous at intervals with- its hoarse cry, and its greedy eyes searching the earth for a, morsel, however loathsome, wherewith to satisfy its hunger. But I bravely kept on my way, resolved that nothing should intimidate me in my purpose, and did' not pause until I reached the old root. Not a living thing was in sight. The crow, if near, was silent, and the deep, unbroken stillness was actu- ally'painful. My gaze unconsciously sought the ground, and instantly an exclamation of wild delight and wonder es- caped my lips. Some one had been there before me that morning. The poor old rusty battered bank had been care- fully disentombed, and was standing upright against the crooked root. "Archie has been here, only' he knew of it!"I cried, in a burst of eager amazement, and staring about me in a per- fect bewilderment of doubt and expectation. THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 99 "And Archie is here!" replied a clear, glad voice, that fairly made my heart leap to meet it. "'Archie, Archie, my brother!" I sprang into 'his outstretched arms, and the bank, which I had caught up in my excitement, fell unheeded to the ground, and I was laughing and crying for very joy. I re- cognized him in an instant, notwithstanding he had grown so tall and strong, anrd a silky brown moustache hid the firm mouth, that had kissed me 'so tremulously the day he went away. He was a man now, broad-shouldered, fine-looking, and elegant of address. Oh, how proud I was of him, my idol, my hero, my brother! It was delicious to sit there on the old hemlock-root beside him, and feel that he was mine again. What did I care for the harmless jump of a rabbit now?-a lion even would not have frightened me while Archie was with me. The tree-tops stopped their moaning, and took up their old dreamful tune as they used to sing to us when we were children, and the harsh caw, caw, of the crow was only its way of bidding us a merry Christmas. I nestled up to Archie, and could not speak for sheer hap- piness. "Now, is it not delightful that we should meet here like this," said he, ecstatically bestowing on me a brotherly hug. :: "I knew you would keep your word and come here every Christmas morning, and so I planned this little surprise for you. I just arrived, came on the early train, struck across- lots from the station, and reached here in season to disinter - the bank and hide myself behind the hemlock yonder, before I saw you coming in sight, walking much as, if you were going to the gallows." : "What a cheerful picture I must have mtade! But of a truth, Archie, it is anything but a pleasure for me to come here alone, and I am going to ask you to absolve me from . - my promise." - "You are right, Eva, you should not come here alone, s I page: 100-101[View Page 100-101]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 100-101 too THE H EMLOC -SWAMP, and from :this moment: the promise is wholly and forever rescinded. " - - "A thousand thanks! And:'now'tell me all about your adenritures" ' - - :"Of course, A-rke told you that I went south? "-Yes. : "Well, RafterI -was fairly established as bundle-boy in the retail dry-goods store of Mr. Tisdall at Richmond, it was all plain sailing for me. I passed along the several grades 'in the usual way, from bundle-boy to clerk, and so on up to bobokkeeper', with- credit to myself and to the satisfaction of my employers-. Mr. Giles Tisdall, the younger brother of the firm,! is- going to Europe, and I am to accompany him, and occupy the place of confidential clerk and accountant in the foreign -house. they have at Berlin. It is a rare chance for me,!-Eva,'and I can "ihafdly realize my good fortune when I think 6f'it.: W-e sail the day after to-morrow from 'New:- York, and :I felt -as if :7I could'- not -go without seeing' *a on,. ... you, if it was only' forand hour.' t' "Is it- possible: that- you intend staying but a day with us after all these long years-of absence?" was my disappointed Teply., - 3 ep Onty a day, Eva'; but is not that better than; not coming ,at all? ^ , . "Oh, yes, infinitely better. I am -thankful' for eventhis little glimpse of you, but I wish it might be longer. You. will go home to dinner with me?" : Oh, certainly. 'I would like to see: the old place again, , and dear Aunt:Eunice,- she 'is well and hearty yet,: Htrust? 6 "Yes, and will -be over-joyed t'o see you. -She stood by me grandly, as'you6 said she would, when your -departure was discovered.' And then I told him of my arraignment, ;and' the tumult his going caused -in-the household. He laughed at the humorous recital, and replied: e ( At any--rate, t-hey cannot accuse me of being incon- THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 0II sistent, for I have returned as abruptly as I disappeared. But everything seems very much changed, At the depot I felt myself the veriest stranger, and I did not meet a single face that I knew. I had no baggage to trouble me, and I thought I could pass the time more pleasantly here than anywhere else; besides, I did not. care to frighten poor Matilda out-of her wits. By the way, how is Matilda and the ' teny, tiny brovers ' now?" / " "I see you have not forgotten that luckless .relationship, and I am happy to say that Matilda is precisely the same being she was when you had the honor to know her intimately, and there 'are four teny, tiny brovers at present, who, no doubt, will each and all be glad to make your acquaintance." "The angels and Mrs. Skimlins are kept busy, I. should judge," said Archie, irreverently; and then he added, more seriously, as if the thought had but that moment occurred to him: "You are not married, Eveleen?" "No." ': But you are engaged - and that is the next door to it?" I did not-deny the last, and was suspiciously silent. Archie interpreted my failure to answer rightly, as I knew he would. "Who to?" Men, and especially brothers, ask very unceremonious questions sometimes. * "Arke Courtwright. Could you not guess, without being so dreadfully abrupt? And he is getting on well in the world, too, I assure you." "You have chosen wisely, Eva. Arke is a noble fllow; but you always possessed the happy faculty of choosin/g the best--of knowing wheat from chaff, which is more -than girls generally do -and I am glad to learn that my boyish . caution regarding Simon was quite unnecessary." "Yes, quite thrown away,so far as my ever marrying him is concerned; but he-oh, Archie, he is such a plague, and 9 .. page: 102-103[View Page 102-103]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 102-103 yi - THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. O-does mope about so, it is enough to worry one out of le's senses. Simon loves me, and I dislike him, and that the long and short of it," said I, in a deprecating manner. "Poor Sim! I can't blame him, for indeed you are beau- Ful, Eva. Post has'good taste in one respect; at least, and s hopeless infatuation is deserving of pity, instead of cen- tre," was-his playful rejoinder. "Oh, you flatterer, are you not afraid of niaking me un- emingly: vain? But how is it with yourself, Sir Archie, are u still heart and fancy free?" "Entirely so. No one is better loved than my little ster." "Then 'you are a very proper and sensible young man; id it is my wish that we go home immediately, or they will link that I am lost, or have followed your example and bsconded to parts unknown," said I, gayly, gathering my iwal about me- and preparing to go. I was dying to tell unt Eunice'the whole story of our meeting in the Swamp, well as to present my handsome brother to Mrs. Folger. : was 'my triumph, glorious fruit of my childish sacrifice. low proud Aunt Eunice and Keziah would be of him, and ow we-would plume ourselves on his superior manliness. nd then, how delightful to witness the confusion and dis- ray of his former tormentors. .Simon, figuratively, would nash his teeth in bitterness of, soul, and Matilda must needs e wofully mortified and not less astonished. No wonder was in a hurry to get home, and earnestly implored Archie ) hasten his movements. a"We will return the other way," said he; carelessly. "I ather 'fancy a walk along the old road this fine morning." a'Just as you please, only come," was my impatient acq i- ;Cence, and our return Was altogether in a different direc- on from that-whereby:I had entered the Swamp. We had arceiy gone fifty yards, when we -both drew-back with-a l nited- ejaculation of consternation and horror. Directly ; , , . % 8 r m THE HEMLOCK SWAMP.- IO0 before us, and but a short distance from the path which in- - tersected with the one leading to the -highway, lay the stark, dead figure of a man. . "Frozen to death," I gasped. "Murdered," said Archie, in a strangely hollow whisper. He bent over the lifeless body, and gently turned the rigid features upward. "Good heavens, Burrill Ot]ey!"I cried, horror-stricken at the sight of the death-chilled yet familiar face of the rail- road paymaster. My mind reverted to the active, robust. Burrill Otley I saw and admired only last evening, so hand- some and buoyant with life only such a little time ago, and here he was lying a stiff and pallid corpse at my-feet! a' Murdered!"I echoed, pale with amazement and terror, and shuddering from head to foot. "Who could have done the awful deed, and for what reason-? Burrill Otley had no enemies." "God only knows who committed the bloody crime; but the reason is sufficiently plain: somebody wanted .his money, and that dastardly somebody is a human fiend, for he did not hesitate to resort to assassination in order to get it." "Perhaps he has met with some accident," I suggested, willing to disbelieve the evidence of my own senses. "No, - murdered and robbed. See here." Archie lifted the powerless head, and there above the broad temple was a pistolshot-wound - a small red spot of dreadful significance, showing where the bullet, swift and sure messenger of death, had entered the brain. A little blood had oozed from the wound, slightly matting the dark hair, and trickling down on the brown leaves, where it formed a tiny frozen pool. The features were perfectly calm and composed as if in a quiet sleep, and apparently the un- fortunate man had died without a moan.. There was not. the smallest indication that a struggle had taken place- not a twig broken or a tifft-of moss trampled, to point the fact page: 104-105[View Page 104-105]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 104-105 10o4 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. that violence had preceded the murder. Powerful and courageous as he was, the paymaster would have made a brave fight for his life had he been openly attacked; but he had been approached unawares, and was given no oppor- tunity to defend himself. Some cowardly assassin, concealed in the clump of laurel hard by, had fired at him as he passed, and from this secure ambush the cold-blooded villain had s st his victim dead. The rich fur cap I fancied so becoming the evening previous, and one glove, were lying a little apart from the body, which bore unmistakable evi- dence of having been thoroughlyrifled. i The overcoat was torn open, and .the costly watch, chain, and diamond studs were gone; so also were the sleeve-buttons; and probably the left glove had been drawn, off to enable the thief and murderer to ascertain whether poor Otley wore a ring, as -well as other trinkets of value. It was a heart-rending sight, and one which I pray God I may never see again. 'The wan dead face upturned. to the tranquil heavens; the healthful, life-like fulness ofthe countenance, so different from that which death from disease gives to the lineaments of a corpse; the warm winter garments; the long drooping 'moustache half buried in the fine fur collar; the heavy hair tossed back from the icy forehead, which death and the frost had vied with each other in making colder than any marble; - never was there a scene more tragic or mournful The hemlocks never before witnessed so dark a crime, and never before had the ground-beneath borne such crimson stains. I stood rooted to the spot, staring blankly at Archie, too horrified to speak intelligibly; and he also seemed like one petrified, his face white almost as that of the dead. The expression at first was that of mingled pity, regret, and hor- ror, which, to my great surprise, suddenly became that of unutterable terror. - t G-d help me! If I am found here, I am, ruined. Come, -a, come -hasten for your life I' ?.. THE HEMLOCK SWA-MP. . I5 He caught me, by the hand, and together we darted away through the trees. We did not slacken our speed until :the most gloomy and inaccessible part of the Swamp was reached, i and a good quarter of a mile placed between us and the body of the murdered paymaster. I did not for an instant divine the motive which urged Archie to such extraordinary haste. I was inexpressibly shocked, but my alarm and dismay were altogether of a different nature from his. The ground was wet and unmarked by the faintest sign of a path, which fact tended somewhat to assuage his fear, and in a measure reassure him. "What is the matter, Archie, you look so strange? Was the murderer- near there, do you think? He may'follow and kill us too. Oh, if he should--" "'Hush! the murderer -curse him!- is not likely to be near here. He is well off with his ill-gotten riches by this time. But, don't you see, Eveleen, circumstantial evi, dence has hanged many an innocent man." - s"Why, you surely do not think they will suspect-" "Yes, they will suspect me. It is seven years since I left home, and not very creditably, I must -admit. I return in a peculiar manner, for who swill believe it anything else- but peculiar. I go to the Hemlock Swamp instead of going home, and a few hours after this Buirrill Otley is found here dead., At the best, I would be detained on suspicion;, or as a witness, at least, and- either case would be fatal to my prospects. Arrested for murder, my trip to Europe is blasted, and all my-hopes with it."' Large drops of perspiration beaded- his forehead, and his voice shook painfully despite his efforts to control it.:"Ar- rested- for murder! Yes, that he certainly would 'be if he remained. He could doubtless prove his entire innocence of ever having aught to do with a crime so utterly heinous; but the stigma that would attach itself to his name--the shame and disappointment and anguish w:hich must'ensue-- page: 106-107[View Page 106-107]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 106-107 iIo6 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. no, my brother's name must never be mentioned in connec- tion with so foul, a deed. I comprehended the danger, which encompassed him, apart from the exaggerations great consternation and excitement lent to the truth. I could always think clearer for Archie than for myself. "I understand your alarm now, Archie, and you are right, it will be your ruin if you are found here. You must go, and at gnce.' There is a fast train due in fifteen minutes; let your feet be winged and you will be in time to meet it. There will be a crowd of strangers at the depot--there always is during holiday-week -people coming and going no one knows where, and no one will care until the body of Burrill Otley is discovered, which I pray heaven, may not be for hours to come. Away! do not lose a moment. Fly, if you love me, and let your speed outstrip the wind!"I cried 'imploring him by word and gesture not to linger where-so great a peril menaced life and liberty. ":And you, oh, Eva, can I leave you here alone?" '"Never fear for me. I am in no danger, and I will be mute as the grave. Only go, I beseech you, go, go, go!." He obeyed my frantic adjuration, and with a low good- bye, which sounded to my distraught senses like a death- knell, Archie was gone. "Gone, thank God!"I fell on my knees and uttered the thankful prayer aloud. Forgetful of the dead man lying blanched and frozen in the lonesome path, the only thought occupying my. mind was anxiety for Archie's safety. Outside of that, all other considerations were nothing, and my duty toward the dead was a feather-weight compared to my devotion toward the living. I took a circuitous route, whereJI was the least likely to meet anybody, and fled homeward like one de- nmented, dodging in and out among the hemlocks at a reck- less pace, and innumerable unseen horrors accompanying me at every-step. -My he-ad was in a whirl, my hands like ice, and my cheeks burning hot;- but I -did not stop in my wild THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. . 107 run through and against everything, as it seemed to me- projecting roots, resilient boughs, and loose stones--until the highway was gained, where I paused exhausted, to re- cover my breath and collect my scattered thoughts. I had barely clambered over the fence which divided the Swamp lands from the road, when I saw approaching a gentleman who walked very briskly and carried a valise. It was Arke, and his countenance expressed how glad he was to see me. "Ah, Miss Eveleen, you are out early. Didyou come all this way to bid me a merry Christmas?" And he dropped the valise that his hands might be free to warmly grasp both of mine. "I beg, do not flatter yourself. I am merely going to the village to do an errand, which I should have done yesterday if procrastination were not my besetting sin," said I, with a lightness which appeared absolutely horrible to me. "Bless me, what a color! Jack Frost is a saucy fellow, gand I am half inclined to be jealous." "Oh, it is not worth while; but tell me, are there many people--strangers I mean at the village this morning?" ' "Regiments of them - the depot was thronged. Smith and Jones coming in to spend the dawlith friends, and Smith and Jones going out for the sam laudable purpose. I did not know one face in ten." "It is a wonder you know mine." I feigned a laugh, which was so perfectly forced and empty that I marvelled he did not notice it. But maybe-it did not sound so hollow and vacant to him as it did to me. Arke, like all his sex, was a little conceited, and believed my heightened color and surprising gayety solely due to the pleasure I experienced in. meeting him. "I will not detain you longer. It is too cold, for me to keep' you standing in the road, though you do look bloorfi- page: 108-109[View Page 108-109]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 108-109 10O8 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. ing as a rose,'" said- Arke, gallantly;" sob run along now and do your;.errand as quickly as you can. Sibyl expects you over this evening. I will call for you at six. I have ever so much to say." iHef bade me a laughing good morning, Arke going to his sister's, and I hurrying to the village, where I made my presence as conspicuous as possible without seeming to do so, and then I hurried back again. Aunt Eunice met me at the door, and, of course, her first word was an interrogation. "' Gracious me, Eveleen, where have you been?" "Only down-to the village to see the train come in. Everybody and all his friends have arrived, and staid old Litchfield is in her merriest mood." "Take care, Eveleen, that you do not spoil Arke," said Aunt Eunice, with a warning shake of her finger, "men are so easily spoiled."' "t Oh, aunty, what a naughty insinuation! As if I went there to meet him," said Ijightly; and the kind soul was completely deceived. She thought me happy and blithe of heart as a song-bird, when in truth I was miserably nervous and ill at ease. The sudden opening or shutting of a door terrified me, and a step or a voice unusually loud or unusu- ally soft-threw me into a cold perspiration. My wretched knowledge of the crime yet confined to the sombre keeping of the hemlocks, tortured me in a score of different ways. Why need I have been the one to discover it? What had :Archie done that he -should stumble on such a horror the very first hour he set foot on the soil of his birth-place? Was it not cruel of heaven, when we were so glad, and I was to say in pride and love to those who had chilled and darkened his youth, "'Behold my brother!" Excitement magnified my fears, and I actually trembled for Archie as if he had been the real criminal, and my terror- distorted' imagination saw him arrested, tried, and con- THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. I09 demned for the murder of Burrill Otley. Turn where I would, the haunting fear was there, and I could not evade it. I looked at Mrs. Folger, at my father, at Simon, at every one, and silently envied them the contentment and bliss depicted in their acts and conversation. I shrank from the kindliest gaze, fearful that they might read the dreadful secret, locked in my breast, in my wide, startled eyes. The annual arrival of the Posts engrossed all my step- mother's time and attention, and consequently that of her husband. Simon, exhilarated perhaps by the cordial merry Christmas with which I had greeted him, was uncommonly affable, and made a noteworthy pretence of playing with his little nephews, a thing he rarely did, and, with a child's quick discernment, they viewed the condescension -with dis- trust. Determined not to be outdone in the all-pervading geniality which seemed to characterize the mood of every- body that day, I assumed a queer, hysterical sort of viva- ciousness and was madly entertaining, so much so that once or twice I caught Simon regarding me rather curiously. , Shortly after dinner, while I was alone with Simon in the sitting-room, there came a sharp, decisive rap on the front door, and the sound went through my heart like a knife. 1 knew what it boded, but I arose, outwardly composed, and calmly opened the door. The person who so summarily sought admittance was our neighbor, Deacon Holt, and it needed no second glance to tell me that he was laboring under very great perturbation of mind. Hardly stopping to exchange the customary civilities of the day, he helped himself to a chair, and ex- citedly inquired if Mr. Folger was at home. "He is," I replied, every nerve firmly under control now I confronted the danger. "Simon, will you please call father." He did as I requested, and Mr. Folger immediately there- after joined us in the sitting-room. IO page: 110-111[View Page 110-111]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 110-111 "O THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. "What has gone wrong, Mr. Holt, - you look mightily agitated?" said my father, with neighborly concern. ' And no wonder, sir, no wonder. It is a grave business which brings me here ma frightfully grave business, Mr. Folger; have n't you heard the news? ' News? no, nothing unusual. What is it?" "Why, just this, within the hour Burrill Otley-- the rail- road paymaster, you know- was found dead in the Hem- lock Swamp." - "Found dead!" *c Yes. Murdered. Shot square through the head, and dead as a stone. I am on the coroner, and I suppose you -are also.' My father was unspeakably shocked, and Simon, for once in his life, appeared thoroughly interested. I made a suit- able show of consternation with the rest, pitiful hypocrite, that I was, when all day long the poor dead face of Burrill Otley had been constantly before me. "When did it occur, and who did the murder? Have n't they discovered any -clue which may lead to the detection and punishment of the guilty wretch?" asked Simon, with kindling animation. "Not a vestige. Weare all in the dark. Some boys, cutting across the Swamp for a skate on the North Pond, happened to run full tilt on the body as it lay stretched in the narrow path, and they naturally fled in great terror, spreading the news in every direction as they ran. A party of .us at once set out for the Swamp. We brought the corpse to the village, left it in poor Otley's room at the hotel, and sent for the coroner. He is out of town - gone to Hopeville to spend Christmas with some of his wife's relations; but we telegraphed him to come down on the first train. We like- wise dispatched what had occurred to the president of the New Branch, and he will take charge of the body as soon as the law is done with it. The railroad officials are. furious-; / , ,. THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. III and well they may be, for it is an infamous deed, and harg- ing is much too good for the brutal villain." Worthy Deacon Holt, in his righteousindignation, was getting exceeding wrathful, and grew very red and emphatic in consequence. "There must be a bit of evidence of some kind -there always is-- a shred of clothing, a hair, a footprint--some- thing to implicate, and, I trust, hang the right man," pithily observed Simon. f"I know there generally is, but in this caise there is no clue whatever, so far. There is no snow in the Swamp, and therefore no footprints. As for tracing a particular boot- track in the beaten paths, where hundreds of- people are continually passing to and fro, that is simply impossible. The authorities already have two first-class detectives on the scene, and they are scouring the neighborhood, and search- ing every hole and corner of the Swamp." "Very awful, very sudden and startling," said Mr. Fol- ger, in a melancholy, half soliloquizing tone. Deacon Holt was full of the subject, and his loquacity when fully aroused was extreme. So he resumed, still dwell- ing on the theme of the clue: "I did hear that a young man-quite a stranger and well dressed, so the freight-agent who told the story says - came on the early train this morning. Nobody knew him; he did not go to the hotel, had no baggage, and has not been seen on any of the roads leading from the village; but a man, they say, answering to his description jumped aboard the New York Express just as it was moving out, and at the risk of his- neck. But whoever- the man was, he has three hours the start of the detectives, and I doubt if he can be overtaken and brought back, with that advantage in his favor." My heart stood still, and I felt a ghastly whiteness creep- ing'to my lips. The detectives! the' telegraph! Could - page: 112-113[View Page 112-113]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 112-113 -11 2 T HE HEMLOCK SWAMP. Archie escape? If captured, the very fact of his incon- siderate flight would alone condemn him, and weigh a thousand times more heavily against him than if he had re- mained and braved the worst. By a superhuman effort I banished the treacherous faintness stealing dizzily over my brain, and smoothly asked: ' What motive was there for any one to murder Mr. Otley, he was universally liked??" 'Motive? why, his money, to be sure! The railroad' people -declare he had nearly forty thousand dollars about him, every penny of which is gone, as well, as his watch and chain. The motive was purely robbery, for Otley was indeed a universal favorite." "It was unwise for :him to carry so large an amount of money at such a. time and place, and I *am surprised that a man of his prudence and knowledge of the cupidity of human nature should have done so," said:Simon, quietly. "-And Otley very seldom did, I can tell you. It seems he was to leave this morning for his home somewhere West --Indiana, I think; but thjere has been some sort of a hitch relative to paying off the hands this month, and he was de- tained on that account. Yesterd-ayhowever, he recei4 a despatch instructing him' to -y the hands without!elay. It'was too late for the last traih, but, as he wanted tie la- borers to get their wages before the. holidays, he started off, resolved to walk the three mirLs between here and- Mill- brook, where- the workmen woew- to be paid, come back in the morning, and leave for hofte to-day. -Poor -fellow, he has gone on a much longer journey than he anticipated!" "And the infepence is, that some evil-designed person was- aware of- 'the fact, and waylaid him as he was taking the short-cut through the Swamp," I remarked, guardedly. "{ Exactly so. Shot him down without a moment's warn- ing, secured the money and valuables, and was off. Many a man has been tempted to do, a murder for a less sum." THE HELOCK SWAmp . THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. jI I "If Mr. Otley was killed last evening, then it could not have been the young stranger, who came on the early train this morning, who did it," said I, tranquilly, for I knew Simon's pale eyes were fixed on me searchingly. This new phase of the question a trifle nonplussed the good - Deacon. "True, Miss Eveleen, it is all a dark mystery. It is a long time ago - nearly twenty years --since anything of the kind has taken place in these parts. Nick Wallace- i you remember Nick Wallace, the old pack-peddler, don't you, Mr. Folger? - well, he was found just this side of the Swamp with a bullet in his head, and his murderer was never discovered, leastwise, I never heard that he was. He is going unwhipped of justice to this day, for all anybody knows to the contrary, although they do say murder will oat." "Ah, yes, poor old Nick! his blood may be unavenged; but we will move heaven and -earth, but what this human fiend shall be brought to speedy punishment," exclaimed Mr. Folger, getting excited in his turn. "That we will!" corroborated Simon, quite energetically for him. " ne is not safe in these days if there is a dollar in one's po6et," bewailed the Deacon, nervously fingering the region-of his wallet. "But will you go back to the village with me, Mr. Folger; we may be of some assistance?" "Certainly. I am willing to render all the assistance I can. .Eveleen, bring me my overcoat and hat." " thinrk I will go too," volunteered Simon, rising with the others, and putting on his coat. "- Aman has no right to be out after dark with forty thousand dollars about him, but that is not saying he ought to be killed for it." The three gentlemen went out together, and I stood alone by the window, gazing in perplexity at their vacant chairs. I dared not mention even the simple fact of my having seen 10 * . page: 114-115[View Page 114-115]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 114-115 II4 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. Burrill Otley pass by the house last evening. A single word, a careless remark, might betray me and ruin Archie. Was there not already afloat the ominous rumor of the sudden arrival and sudden departure of a mysterious stranger? I must be, ever watchful, ever on my guard, and defend with my very life the peace of mind and good name of my brother. CHAPTER XI. A GHOST IN THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. T HE neighborhood wa. terribly incensed, and a large reward was offered for the apprehension of the mur- derer. Crowds of excited people flocked to the Swamp and viewed with awe the scene of the tragedy. Public-senti- ment ran high, and the town was rife with all sorts of pos- sible and impossible rumors. A city detective came and un- dertook to ferret out the perpetrator of the atrocious crime; but not a ray of light could be obtained that in the smallest ,degree tended to point'out-the assassin. At the inquest nothing new was elicited, and the verdict was in effect, that Burrill Otley was murdered in the Hemlock Swamp on such a day of the week and year, by a gun-shot wound in the head, inflicted by some person or persons to the jury unknown. This was meagre satisfaction enopgh, but the, keenest search could bring forward ,no more. The detectives, sharp, and experienced as they were, and 'iard as they worked, ipiere completely baffled and thrown off the scent. Neither 'rage nor grief, nor rewards or indefatigable effort, were of any avail. The affair was hedged about with impenetrable mys- tery which no ingenuity of'the law was able to fathom. I read with' morbid fascination all the-sickening details of'the THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 1I5 post-mortem examination, and eagerly gleaned all the stray fragments of gossip that fell in my,way. . I pondered and "brooded myself half distracted, for did I not hold a clue which, if followed up, might explain the whole mystery. There was the pistol-shot, which I had heard coming so soon after the paymaster entered the Swamp; and the strange old tramp in the long gray coat, who had walked so oddly. He must have met Mr. Otley. They were travers- ing the same path. What had become of the old vagabond? No one had seen him; and persons of his class are always remarked in their wretched wanderings through country towns. I had listened to many conversations relating to suspected individuals, but not a word referring to this vagrant stroller. A young, well-dressed stranger had come and gone in a very suspicious manner that fateful Christmas morning; many people could'testify to that; but no bent old beggar had been seen. I kept my own counsel, but I knew I had seen, in that bowed and disguised old man of the gray coat and hat, the assassin of Burrill Otley. The murder, like all other startling horrors, was a nine days' wonder, and in a short time the excitement began to die out. But the path in the Swamp, where the luckless man had met his ghastly fate, was tacitly shunned, even by those who accounted themselves among the bravest. After a while it was said the place was haunted, and a ghostly figure had been seen to flit about under the hemlocks with a face and form exactly like that of the dead paymaster; only the face was pale as snow, and a blood-spot marked the tem- ple, and the form was shadowy, and glided with phantom stillness up and down in appalling silence. Phantom shots were also heard, and when search was made, no huntsman could be found. It was currently reported, and largely be- lieved by hundreds not inclined to superstitious credulity, that a spectre inhabited the Swamp, and that this pallid spectre was in reality the unquiet spfrit of the murdered page: 116-117[View Page 116-117]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 116-117 II6 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. Otley. And it was devoutly affirmed by those who gave credence to the story, that it would so continue to walk until the innocent blood shed there was avenged. It is quite likely that this perturbed spirit never existed save in the lively imagination of the honest country folks; but be that as it may, people of evenly balanced minds preferred a long walk around the Swamp to a shorter one going through it, and took excellent care to avoid the vicinity, especially to- wards evening, and at that weird time when ghostly visitants do most perambulate the earth. Speaking for myself, I never saw the palest shadow of this dread apparition, yet I admit my former liking for the pensive old trees was greatly cooled, and when anywhere near them, I could not forbear casting apprehensive looks over my shoulder, as if some being not of the flesh might be wandering forth from their dusky shades in quest of that justice which men failed to give it. There is a vein of the supernatural in every nature, and I was not braver than the rest. Then, too, I had known of the crime sooner than any one else, and that knowledge I had carefully withheld. It would implicate Archie; and his name, however guiltless he might be, to go all over the country associated with such a shocking deed was dreadful to think of. No, not the remotest taint of the miserable business must attach itself to him: that, it should be my life-task, if necessary, to evade. But day by day the baleful secret I guarded with such jealous care grew in my thoughts to greater and greater magnitude, till I felt myself scarcely less guilty than if I had been the real malefactor. Ought I not to tell what I knew; to the authorities? Perhaps it might be the thread of evidence which would unravel the whole dark affair. The seeing Burrill Otley pass by, the shot al- most immediately following his disappearance, and the un-t prepossessing tramp, who kept so stealthily in the trodden path, -and ofrvhom the feeding cattle were not alarmed. Suppose I confessed to the strange. return of Archie,to our THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. i7 having found the body, and that I had urged, nay, com- manded him to fly. It would do no good at this late day, and would bring dire disaster to him. I argued the ques- tion within myself in every conceivable light. Justice to- wards the dead bade me speak, love towards the living bade me keep silent; and when did love ever plead in vain? Archie was now safe, far away across the sea, prosperous and happy, and not mine the voice to bring him blight and sadness. 'No, I would not tell, let conscious-clamoring justice sting as it might, not a whisper should pass my lips. The disembodied spirit of Burrill Otley might haunt the Swamp as long as a tree remained, or follow me all the days of my life crying eternally for vengeance on his slayer, but I would be dumb. I might hold the clue in my hands, but it led too near my heart to be effectually used. My bro- ther was the safeguard, which stood between the criminal and his crime, and- I could not see beyond him. Weeks passed away, and the matter was gradually dismissed from the minds of the'villagers. But the more others seemed to forget, the more I was forced to remember. And, to make things worse, Simon renewed his attentions with assiduous fervor. Hitherto he had been all meekness and patience, but now he changed the method of his wooing, and was al- together decided in his advances. I also discerned that he had enlisted the good offices of Mrs. Folger in his behalf, and my stepmother inaugurated her policy-and a master- stroke of diplomacy it was; too--by sweetly taking it for granted that I wa really engaged to her brother, and her manner conveyed the impression that such a thing as my rejecting him was totally out of the question. It was her purpose to so entangle me by outside appearance that I could find no avenue of escape, and thus oblige mie to con- form myself to her wishes. And, to further her object, she treated me on all occasions -before people as if I was openly betrothed to the amiable Simon. I was by no means blind page: 118-119[View Page 118-119]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 118-119 Iis8 THE--HEMLOCK SWAMP. to the cunning snare laid to entrap me, and when it was publicly said that I. was going to marry my pest, I indig- nantly denied the report. I could not but believe that both Simon and Mrs. Folger mistrusted my preference for Arke, and this combined movement was to checkmate his rival on the start, although I fancied Master Simon would find it to be a very difficult task, notwithstanding the experienced engineering of his sister. CHAPTER XII. SIMON SHOWS HS HAND. SIMON was not a repulsive-looking man; on the con- :trary, he was tall and slender, with pale, regular features, which, if somewhat too effeminate in contour and color; were never so in expression, and ordinarily his deportment was gentle and deferential towards those with whom 1he came in contact. His was not a trifling nature, although on the surface he seemed so utterly ambitionless and without a practical purpose in life. But I knew, with all his quietness and tractability, that provoked or baffled where he had set his heart, Simon Post could be vengeful and merciless as a devil, and deep within me I had a strange and inexplicable fear of him. In a few months I hoped it would all end, for I would marry Arke in the autumn,- and that event must certainly put a quietus on Simon's futile aspirations, so far as they related -'to me. Before the lamentable occurrence of Archie's ill-starred return, it had been my intention to sooner unite my destiny with that of the man I loved; but the mur- der of Otley put everything else out of my head, and when Arke! asked me to name the day-that memorable Christmas- evening at hiss sister's, I replied at random, ' Some time in THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. I19 September," and he yielded, though not without expostulat- ing against what he termed my " unaccountable freak. " Arke had been very successful in his late business ventures, and was all I could desire in a husband. So I must, for his sake, if not for my own, silence the idle gossip afloat in the village, and at once acquaint Mrs. Folger and her brother with the true state of the relations existing between us. It was a beautiful afternoon in the middle of May when affairs came to a crisis, and I knew just how relentless and malignant Simon's implacable nature was. I was going to pay a visit to Mrs. Fullerton, Arke's sister Sibyl, who lived about half a mile distant through the fields, the way I always adopted when the weather was fine. But what was my dis- may, when I opened the gate into the lane to come pat on Simon Post. Retreat was impossible, and I was compelled to make the best of it. He was leaning on the fence, his arms folded on the rail, and his eyes fixed on the ground. His attitude betokened intense thought, and that, too, of no very pleasant kind, if his countenance was to be relied on. He turned quickly- at the sound the unwieldy gate made in opening, and eagerly advanced to meet me. "I was thinking of you, Eva. I am glad you came." "Your thoughts could not have been very agreeable if you was thinking of me. And I can't stop a moment. I am going to Mrs. Fullerton's, and I am already fifteen minutes behind the time I promised to be there," said I, hurriedly, as if my presence at Mrs. Fullerton's was of the utmost im- portance. "I will walk a part of the way with you, if you have I no objection, and then there,will be no detention to com- plain of." - I did not reply, and the mere civility of permitting him to walk a few rods with me, I could not in reason refuse. I We went on some little distance without speaking, I I walking rather faster than was compatible with the idea that page: 120-121[View Page 120-121]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 120-121 I20 ' THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. I was pleased to have his company, and edging away as often as he edged near. All at once he stopped, put his hand on my arm as a signal for me to do the same, and said, with more manliness and feeling than I ever gave him credit for: "Eveleen Folger, I love you, and have from my boy- hood. You know it,-and to-day I ask you, for the second time, will you be my wife?" He was in earnest, terribly in earnest, if ever a man was. It touched me, and I really felt sorry for him, but I would not deceive him by any false hopes. "And, as I told you the first time, I tell you now: I can never be your wife." ( Never!"His face grew'pale as ashes, and the mourn- fulness with which he echoed the doomful adverb was not assumed. "Never, Simon; I would say it as gently as possible, but you must believe it, and cherish no more dreams of me."' The paleness vanished in a sudden flash of anger and hate. A glittering Satan danced in his eyes, and I pitied him no longer, I only feared him. "Never!" he repeated, and there was an iron hardness in his low, slow voice. "Why never, Eveleen??" "Because I do- not love you - " 'But -I love you," he burst out vehemently; "for love of you, I have sacrificed--I have done - " he paused, ab- ruptly, and after a moment added fiercely - "I have done my life a great and awful wrong. You women have sent more men to the devil than hell has room for." "Oh, hush, for pity's sake, Simon! It makes me shudder to hear you talk so," I said, placing my hand persuasively on his sleeve. The touch or some kinder thought softened him, and again he was pleading: "Why is it that you cannot love me? Have I not always been kind to you, whatever I have been to others?" * THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 'I2 'Yes, always, and I cannot tell why I do not like you. I do not wish to pain you by saying it, but you are less to me than a brother, less than a friend." -Not wish to pain me! and I -I have loved you so, loved you dearly, Eva." ' "And I regret it very much, Simon, very much indeed. Try and forget me now, it is best for us both. " "You ask me to do that which is impossible. But mark this, Eveleen, if not my wife, by the living God, no other man's wife shall you ever be 1 \You shall never marry Arke Courtwright. The cursed word you used regarding me, I will use regarding him - neveer /" Simon was treading on unsafe ground when he thus roughly attacked my love for Arke, and I answered his threat by a dissenting smile. The smile maddened him, and he caught my hand in a vice-like grasp. "Listen, Eveleen, and heed what I say. If you do not and never can love me, that I must bear; but I swear, I will prevent you from marrying Arke Courtwright. I hate him!"And he hissed the words at me with a viperous res- piration that made me shiver. "Suppose I could startle the town with a little story you have, or think you have, alone in your keeping? Suppose I could prove that Eveleen Fol- ger was the keenest hand at deception in all the country - that she out-generalled detectives and coroner's juries with the subtilty of an adept in the art of misleading? What if I could prove that she was in the Hemlock Swamp the morn- ing Burrill Otley was found murdered there, and - " Stop in mercy, Simon " I gasped, taken completely off my guard, as limp as a rag, and trembling violently. The wild, white agony of my face brought to his a smile of fiendish triumph. Ah , he sneered, "I am getting at Eveleen Folger's page: 122-123[View Page 122-123]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 122-123 1;22 .THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. x' How did you know? - it is false! you can have no knowledge of his coming; but if you did, before God, you know his hands are innocent of Otley's blood. You are but seeking to frighten- me," I cried, incoherently, and over- whelmed with confusion. "Aye, and you have good reason to be frightened ;" with the same infernal smile and soft accentuation. "I saw you emerge from the Swamp more like a mad woman than a sane one. I saw you meet him' in the road, and I admired that little stratagem of yours of going to the village. It was cleverly done -the trick of a fox evading the hunters; and, upon my word, you doubled well. Commend me to Eveleen Folger when dust is to be thrown in the too in- quisitive- eyes of the .law." "Meet him in the road! What can you mean, Simon -Post? I took courage; perhaps he was on the wrong track, after all. "Yes, in the road. Oh, it was all capitally manoeuvred, but it did not deceive me. You kept an admirable coun- tenance when Mr. Holt brought the news. How shocked you were, to be- sure. Your face wore a perfect mask, and not once did it betray your conscience. Recently, Arke Court- wright has prospered wonderfuily - amazingly successful in business." ; Ad - "Arke Courtwright! in the name of hven, what do you mean, Simon?" and I looked my utte astonishment. "Just what I say. Arke Courtwright'knew too much of that morning's bloody work in the Swamp for the good of his neck- far too much Land I know, aoxtdI am willing to affirm it on oath, that Eveleen- Folger knows more about the -killing of Burrill Otley than she has ever told." I gave a great sigh.-of relief, which he mistook for one of hopeless misery, and smiled triumphantly thereat. Thank God, he was on the wrong track! Simon had only' seen I 'I- * THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. me with Arke, not with Archie, and the small artifice of my going to the village might be acceptably explained. I was a fool to have, given way to my feelings so readily on the start, and now I hastened to repair the stupid mistake. I stepped back a pace or two, as if to get a fair look at him, and began to laugh; and there was some heart in it too, for I felt so sure that I had the best of him. "Really, Simon, you are funny to-day! Better accuse me of the murder at once. Don't I look as if I could assas- sinate a man six feet high in the Hemlock Swamp at twi- light, rob his body and go serenely on my way? As for your accusation concerning Arke, that is the merest nonsense. It will not be difficult for him to prove where he was every moment of the time intervening between the killing of Mr. Otley and the finding of his body. So,. Mr. Post, your threats are empty, and the next time you play the role of volunteer detective, please be a little surer of the truth before you prefer charges." "You act it finely, Miss Eveleen; but can you explain why you were so careful not to mention the fact of your having been in the Swamp that morning?" "I have been in the habit of going there every Christmas morning for years, for what purpose is no concern of yours. I went that morning, and what occurred afterwards was of so awful a character, that I naturally shrank from being in any l way identified with it; and now you have all there is of this wonderful secret." "That is not true," he said, forcibly. "Then prove it otherwise," I answered, haughtily. "I will,' said he, with acrid composure. "This very day, unless you promise to be my wife,. I will go before the nearest magistrate, make oath to my well-grounded sus- picions, and demand an immediate investigation of the whole affair. Arke has made money rather faster than or- dinary business investments would warrant, and wYe all ; , - ' e page: 124-125[View Page 124-125]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 124-125 [24 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. know that Otley had a large amount in his possession when nurdered. At all events, whether guilty or not, he will be called upon to clear up the doubts which such a serious im- putation would be certain to create, and I think, as a wit- ness, you would speak the truth." I felt the force of what he said. I was no match for his crafty malice, and stood a moment in perplexed reflection. Driven to the wall, I grew as wily and cautious as my subtle antagonist, and concluded that my only resource was to' put into practice the old adage to "fight fire with fire," and thus. circumvent his treachery. "It is very singular that you 'should' wish to marry a woman whom you openly charge with being accessory to, or in some indirect way cognizant of a most horrible murder. Would it not be a dangerous life-companionship for you?" I asked with biting irony. He colored perceptibly. "I do not accuse you, Eva. Whatever you may know was ascertained altogether by accident; and that you did see the body of Barrill Otley that morning in the Swamp, I am ready to stake my life. I say, though,-that you are cloaking the crime of a lover, who is entirely unworthy of you." ' And you are, I presume?" My sarcasm was scorching. "I love you, Eva, let me be ever so unworthy," he replied, almost humbly. This remark taught me, that, if I would conquer him, I must disarm him through his love. I did not esteem it other than a mean proceeding, but there was no help for it, and I did not scruple to avail myself of the one vulnerable point in his pitiless and double-dealing nature. "Simon, I do not know,. nor do I care, how you came by the knowledge which you have the presumption to use as a whip to drive me into loving you. Heavens! how little you must know of a woman's heart if you think to win it by THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 125- such means! I will be candid. I did meet Arke Court- wright that fatal morning, and the meeting, it is unnecessary for me to tell you, was as purely unintentional as this one with you to-day. The painful circumstance of Mr. Otley's woful death, transpiring in the sudden and dreadful manner it did, placed a strange, and I may say, a perilous con- struction on that trifling incident. Hence I was silent; but you know as well as I do, that Arke is wholly innocent of any complicity whatsoever in that cruel deed--only a human demon could have dipped his hands so deep in in- nocent blood. And I am confident that he could prove himself so with very little trouble; but such a step would lead to a great deal of unpleasant comment, and place me in a very unhappy position. You have again asked me to be your wife, and I have answered you No, and that must be accepted as my final and unalterable decision, for I never have, and I never will encourage your fallacious hopes, but I am willing to compromise to some slight degree. I will promise you, and faithfully adhere to my word, that I will never marry Arke Courtwright, or any one else, until the mystery surrounding the murder of Burrill Otley is cleared up; arid my honor, and the honor of one who is dear to me, and who is now, at least, under the cloud of your suspicion; is fully exonerated. Will you be satisfied with that " "I will. From you, it is a generous concession." He looked at me queerly, and offered his hand. c; Very well. And we will not quarrel, or be less friendly than we have been. But remember, when the tragedy of the Hemlock Swamp is no longer a, mystery, my pledge to you is cancelled." "And that may never be." "Then I will abide by what I have said. Yet I have faith to believe it will be. There is the trite but true say- ing that 'murder will out,' and you will see that this vile wretch will eventually be brought to account, and the gallows will not be cheated of its due." 1.l ' .o page: 126-127[View Page 126-127]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 126-127 t26 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. His eyes were on me searchingly, but I could read no anger in them. The old restless, uncertain look was there, but nothing vindictive, or that I could construe into covert duplicity. It consoled him to be assured that if I would not marry him I would not marry anybody, and there no doubt lurked tfe hope in his breast that I might ultimately soften towards Lim, provided the murder was never revealed, and out of sheer dread of being an old maid, reconsider his offer . We parted at the end of the lane quite amicably, recol- lecting the severe language which had passed between us at the commencement of our conversation, and of the two, I am inclined to the belief, that I was the. gieater dis- sembler. From that day I began- to plot and scheme equal to Simon's best. I must leave Litchfield, that was imperative. My health was suffering from the constant strain upon my mind, and the necessity-of standing perpetually on the de- fensive. I knew I was never free from the keen surveillance of Simon, and he thought the same of me. Mrs. Folger now changed her tactics, assumed a new line of attack, and broadly intimated that it was high time I ceased trifling with Simon, and comported myself towards him as, his affianced wife should. I explained, not very lucidly perhaps, that Simon and Iunderstood one another perfectly, and her interference was not needed or desired. Whereupon she chose to appear exceedingly gratified, and remarked, that it was quite the proper thing that we should come to a right understanding. She had always told Mr. Folger that it was one of, those affairs which would straighten itself, and, concluded she, emphatically, " I am glad it has." She purposely misconstrued my meaning,-and Mrs. Folger was a-far more obtuse woman than I ever thought her to be, if she did not learn from my scornful looks the contempt I had for her shallow subterfuge, and knew full well that I despised both herself and her brother. THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. I27 CHAPTER XIII. I MAKE A CONFJDANTE OF AUNT EUNICE. AFTER a vast deal of reflection in pursuance of my wished-for object, I resolved to take Aunt Eunice into my confidence. She frequently questioned me in relation to my manifestly low spirits, and wondered why I was getting so thin and pale, and the shrewd old lady more than suspected that Simon was at the bottom of my melancholy. I was morbidly shy, even of my dear old aunt, and hugged my troubles to myself as a miser hugs his gold; but when forced to an extremity, I turned to her for help as to my only earthly friend.. I sought Aunt Eunice at a time when I knew she would be alone in her room, and the summer twilight would kindly hide the disturbed expression of my tell-tale face. She was sitting in her low rocking-chair by the open window, dreamily swaying to and fro in the placid way that is so eminently suggestive of pleasant reveries. I was embarrassed how to introduce the subject, and, as a preludei to what I was longing to say, I took a seat on the little wooden- stool at her feet, and was quite silent and downcast. Aunt Eunice unwittingly came to my relief, and in a mild, partly anxious and partly curious tone, 'she said: "What is it that ails you, Eva? you don't seem a bit like yourself?" I was tired of acting a part, and so, girl-fashion, I dropped my head on her knee and commenced to cry. She soothed and comforted me as if Hwere a grieved child. "There, there, deary, don't-cry. Tell me what it is that troubles you so. Your 'little hands are so thin and your cheeks so white. ' What is it all about, my lamb? Is it that plague of a Simon? Those Posts have been the torments of our lives!]" - a page: 128-129[View Page 128-129]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 128-129 I128 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. I was voiceless, and cried all the harder for her tender sympathy. t "No bad news; you have not been quarrelling with Arke, have you?" ' Which last speech proved conclusively that the dear old lady was not ignorant of whither my heart had gone. "No, I have not been quarrelling with Arke; we never quarrel; and there is no bad news in particular; only I am just miserable, and I have come to talk with you about- about something. I want to go away from here. I am sick of Litchfield and everything connected with it. Oh, aunty, can't you think of some plan by which I can go away; for a little time?"I cried, brokenly, and without the least regard to relevancy. "Now, Eveleen, what is all this about? It's that sheep of a Simon, I know. You are not afraid and want to run away from him, I hope?" No, not afraid - that is, not very much afraid. I am a little, aunty; but he annoys me so! He loves me with all his soul, that is a solemn fact, and if I could be rid of him for a while, he might get over it." Aunt Eunice rocked and mused several moments in silence, my head still pillowed on her knees, and her hand absently smoothing down my hair. "This looks bad, child. He has not dared to be impu- dent to you?" "Oh, no, no ; but it is so tiresome to know a man is al- ways watching you. Arke--I never told you out and out before, aunty, for I was pretty certain that you guessed it-. well, I am engaged to Arke,-and that is the reason why Simon's attentionsare so distasteful and wearisome. I love Arke, and he loves me; but Simon loves me too, Aunt Eunice, there is no denying that." "Has he told you so.?" "Yes; and I have refused him." THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 120 "Then, if he has any kind of spunk, aplump ' no' ought to have settled him." "But it did n't. He forced me into a sort of com- promise I mean, he persuaded me to recognize certain claims ---" t Claims! What claims can Simon Post have on my sister's daughter?" "None, rightfu:ly. But, to free myself from his im- portunities, I conceded to certain terms; and oh, aunty, don't ask me to explain, only help me to get away, for I am wretched here, and another year spent like the last will kill me." Aunt Eunice did not reply, and I, nothing daunted by her silence, resumed: "Have I not a rich aunt living at the South? Why can't I go and make her a visit? - "Yes. Your Aunt Marcia is living in Georgia, and she is rich; but I have not seen her for years, and time and riches often alienate kindred hearts. "Oh, don't say so; it's not Christian-like. Aunt Marcia loved you and my dear mamma when she was little, did she not?" "Aye, Marcia was affectionate enough then, and your mother was especially dear to her." "And she is affectionate still. Tell me about her, as you remember her long ago," said I, abruptly lifting my head from under her caressing hand to look with new-found hope in Aunt Eunice's lowered eyes. She did not partake of my eagerness, and was very matter-of-fact in her reply. "Marcia was the youngest, and the beauty of the family, as I was the oldest and the plainest. Your mother was like her. I did not have many sweethearts, and, in consequence, have always remained Eunice Daly. "Eveleen married Archibald Folger, who was a decentish sort. of a man at that time, and -Marcia married Lemuel page: 130-131[View Page 130-131]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 130-131 ;I30 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. Edgerton. He was a poor lawyer then, but he died a few years Iago Judge Edgerton, and left his wife a splendid fortune. She has never married since, and has no children. I rarely hear from her; but she is my sister, let her be ever so grand, and she may extend to you a kindly invitation to visit her, if I give-her the hint." "Oh do, aunty, a very broad hint." And I rapturously fell to kissing her, without giving her a chance to remonstrate. "But not a word to anybody; it shall be our secret, and I 'll post the letter myself. You will write it this very night, please, Aunt Eunice; that's a dear, darling aunty!" "How can I, if* you smother me at this rate. A minute ago you looked as if you had seen the ghost they do say, and with reason, tramps about in the Hemlock Swamp, and now-" "And I have seen it, Aunt Eunice." "Mercy me!" she exclaimed, reprovingly. "Don't speak lightly of such a thing. I notice you never go near the Swamp nowadays, and for that matter who would? I should not wonder if it was haunted, with such a crime as that done- there and never found out." I quieted Aunt Eunice by telling her the ghost simply dwelt in my imagination, and only the eyes of my mind had seen it stalking grimly through the ambient evergreen of the Swamp. I left her with a lighter heart than I had known for many weeks, and that evening, in compliance with my earnest entreaty, she wrote the all - important letter. I brought the lamp, pen, ink, and paper, to her room, and softly retired, while she indited the " hint." Aunt Eunice was no great scribe, and undoubtedly that was- the most difficult letter she ever attempted to write. She was a very independent old lady, and hated asking a favor above all things; but the wealthy and fashionable Mrs. Edgerton was, as she had said, her sister, and she had a right THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. I3 to approach her in sisterly confidence. The letter was finally written, not without a few erasures and grammatical inac- curacies, and when finished read as follows: irY \ {Xo n"ITCHFIELD., June 2I., I8-- "DEAR SISTER MARCIA: "I am getting to be an old woman, and it is what we must all come to if we live. When Eveleen died, you know, she left a little girl. The child has grown up into a good young woman, and the time is come when I would like to send her away for a season. May she come to you, Marcia? She is a pretty, well-educated, and kind-hearted girl that you need not be ashamed of. Our dead sister's only daughter, and she - is gentle and lovable like her mother. I shall anxiously await your reply. "Ever faithfully your sister, EUNICE DALY." This precious epistle was duly sealed, addressed, and stamped, and I saw it depart on its southern journey with 'many prayers and blessings that it might reach its destination in safety, and be the happy means of extricating me from the web of difficulties fate had woven so closely-around me. I impatiently counted the days which must intervene before an answer could be expected, and when the clerk handed me a letter post-marked ', Savannah," and addressed in a clear legible hand to "Miss Eunice Daly," I almost flew homeward, so great was my haste and delight. Aunt Eunice was in the garden, engaged in picking peas for dinner, and thither I hurried as fast as I could run. "I've got it, aunty, I 've got it! Read it quick, I am dying to know what she says!" I took the basket half full of peas from her hand, and put the letter in its place. "It is not Marcia's writing," she said, disappointedly, and my heart fell like a lump of lead in my bosom. Imwas not sufficiently familiar with my Aunt-,Marcia's penmanship page: 132-133[View Page 132-133]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 132-133 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. to distinguish it from that of any other, and therefore pre- stimed of course it must be hers. I looked at Aunt Eunice wistfully, and she looked wistfully at me. The pea-vines shut us in from chance observation, yet I glanced around searchingly to assure myself that no lynx-eyed Simon was lurking near our retreat; and then nerving myself for the disappointment, if disappointment -it be, I urged Aunt Eunice to read the letter, that we might know the worst. The daintily monogrammed A. E. was ruthlessly torn across, the letter slowly drawn forth and as slowly unfolded. After a moment's rapid perusal, her face brightened, and the lead flew magically out of my heart. " Just as sisterly as can be. There, read it, and get your- self ready for Savannah as soon as you like." "Oh, Aunt Eunice, I am so glad !" I sprang into her arms, upsetting the basket of peas in the haste and ardor of my joy, and hugged and kissed her with all my might. " Your sister could not be less than kind," said I, beam- ingly, and between laughing and crying I managed to read Mrs. Edgerton's short but highly satisfactory communi- cation: " DEAR SISTER EUNICE: "Your letter reached me but an hour ago, and I hasten to reply, although to do so I am obliged to avail myself of an amanuensis. I am suffering from one of my frequent attacks of neuralgia, which will explain the necessity to which I allude. How can you ask if Eveleen's daughter will be welcome ? Of course she will -a hundred times so! I have not seen her since she was a little lily-bud of a baby that poor Eva was so fond of, and she is dear to me for her mother's sake. Let' her come at once; welcome alike to heart and home. I will write again as soon as my head is better. ;This brief note is only to tell you how eagerly I shall await the arrival of my niece. Your affectionate sister, MARCIA EDGERTON. THE 'HEMLOCK SWAMP.. f* 133 "P. S. If this girl, whom I am to take from you, is all the tie you have binding you to Litchfield, why cannot my home be yours also? You will find in it as much love and com- fort as in that of Mrs. Folger's at least. I am getting old too, Eunice, widowed and childless, and often very lonely. Come, if possible. M. E." I was in ecstasies, and Aunt Eunice largely partook of my pleasure. 'Will you go, aunty? Oh, say yes, it is such a genuinely good and heart-felt invitation." "Come to think of it, maybe I will. You can't go alone, that is positive, and when you are out of it, I would n't stay a day in Matilda Folger's house for the world. I'll go to my own flesh and blood, and ask no odds of any Post th-t ever lived," said she, loftily and with a grand decisory wave of her hand. I sat down on the grass, and began to pick up the over- turned peas, my mind still travelling southward. "When can we go - in a week ?" Not quite so.soon, but in two, perhaps. I have some business to arrange first; and now I have broken the ice-for you, do you go and answer Aunt Marcia's letter, and I'll finish picking the peas, otherwise there will be no dinner, and Matilda's temper will be mightily ruffled." This behest I obeyed with alacrity, and in ten minutes I vas deeply immersed in the pleasurable task of writing to my dear unknown Aunt Marcia. I posted the letter that afternoon, and was sensible of a renewed feeling of triumph and freedom stirring again in my breast. Aunt Eunice's business consisted of walking up to my father, and bluntly informing him that she wanted three thousand dollars. Mr. Folger expressed his surprise and some natural curiosity at the suddenness of the request, but she gratified neither. He supposed the money was-in some manner associated with the out-lawed' Archie, and he did 12 page: 134-135[View Page 134-135]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 134-135 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. not hesitate to ask her as much. She curtly replied in the negative, and gratuitously obs ved for his further informa- tion, that "Archibald Folger, j nior, was a boy abundantly able to look out for himself, and honestly make his own way in the world." Mrs. Matilda as visibly concerned and pertinaciously speculative, but she was far from surmising the truth. The idea of my ev r leaving home never entered into her manifold calculations. Mr. Folger paid the money without demurring more than was anticipated from the unlooked-for sharpness of the demand, and he could do so with little detriment to his finances, for he had used to good advantage the funds he had had for so many years in his keeping. And his wife spitefully affirmed, thatfor her part she was glad to have the paltry sum out of their hands, and if Aunt Eunice did make a beggar of herselfby disposing of it in a foolish and ill- advised way, it would be her own fault, she had been warned. Aunt Eunice snorted back a severe rejoinder, and believed she knew what she was doing, without being taken to do about it by anybody. It would take all of two weeks, Mr. Folger said, to settle up matters between them; and to this comparatively short delay she willingly submitted. During that time I arranged all my own little private affairs, among which was a long letter to Arke, acquainting him with my contemplated visit to my Aunt Marcia at Savannah, and a few other explana- tions which only he had a right to know. Aunt Eunice decided to say nothing of our intentions until she had her money really at her own disposal, for, said she, pertinently: "If Matilda knew just what we had in view, she might set your father up to not paying it, merely to hinder us from going; and without money we surely could not go." "And if they did bother us in that mean way, I'd beg or borrow enough money to take me there," said I, desperately. , Afr '_ . {.Y THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. "Begging and borrowing is not pleasant, and it is some- thing I never did. I prefer to travel independent of any person's pocket," was her proud reply. Happily the necessity for begging and borrowing did not occur; and during the two weeks of waiting everything went on smoothly, and no one, not even Simon, the vigilant, had the remotest inkling of our real purpose. The money was punctually paid at the expiration of the time specified, and then Aunt Eunice declared she was ready to state her mind open and aboveboard to all whom her acts concerned. Since my father's second marriage, he had never seemed a father to me, and his apparent indiffer- ence touching the fate of Archie tended to greatly chill my filial affections. Aunt Eunice was all to me, and, being law- fully of age, I felt it my duty, apart from inclination, to abide by her judgment in preference to that of any other, which if it should happen to err, would certainly not be through lack of love or good-intention towards me, nor be biassed by the prejudices of a second person, as my father's was very likely to be. When Aunt Eunice had obtained her money, she was afraid to have it about her, and uttered her misgivings aloud in this wise: "Poor Mr. Otley was murdered for his money, and why should a weak old woman hope to fare better than a strong young man?" And, as a consequence of her not altogether exaggerated fears, the money was deposited in the village bank; and Aunt Eunice took particular pains to let the immediate family of her brother-in-law know it. A wise precaution, which did not fail to circulate pretty freely throughout the whole neighborhood, thanks to Mrs. Folger's volubility in matters which did not relate to herself. page: 136-137[View Page 136-137]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 136-137 1.36 . THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. CHAPTER XIV. I DISCOVER THE MURDERER OF BURRILL OTLEY. OW that I might be leaving it forever, the old Swamp regained a portion of its former attraction, and I could not go away 'without bidding it adieu. Since the morning of the murder I had not ventured near the hem- locks, but on the eve of my departure for a new and distant home, I conceived a longing to go there once more. Not to penetrate as far as -the old hemlock-root - oh, never there again!-but simply to get one farewell view of the an- cient trees, and inhale the odorous breath of their plumy boughs. Surely, in the broad, full splendor of a July after- noon, with the sky a liquid blue above me, and all the earth. teeming with sunshine and brilliant with flowers, I might dare to saunter in the vicinity of the haunted Swamp. The way I chose was an isolated route through a rugged, unculti- vated lot, the sterile soil of which was entirely given up to hardbacks and mullens, and separated from the Swamp by a low, dilapidated rail fence, which was half overgrown by stunted shrubs of oak and pine, and hardy, vicious-looking climbing-plants - bitter-sweet and poison-ivy, and one par- ticularly vagrant vine, with a frouzy white, wig-like blossom, which Archie used to call "devil's hair," and I confess, with all due respect to botany, I know no other name for it to this day. I kept close to the straggling fence in order that I might avail myself of the shade thrown over it by the adjacent hemlocks, little thinking, as I strolled along, that I wag approaching the spot where the mystery of Burrill Otley's murder was to be elucidated. Just beyond me were two tall tamarack-trees, and another--a patriarch of its spe- cies - lay prostrate on the ground torn up by the roots. Some rivening blast or lightning-stroke had rent it from top THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 37 to bottom, and now it lay all worm-eaten and black with decay, nothing but a rotten log, I stooped to gather a cluster of primroses I saw growing at the foot of a yellow- flowering hardhack, and when I lifted my head, I observed a man coming towards me from the opposite direction. Between me and the tamaracks there was a great deal of shrubby undergrowth, and it was only by the merest chance that I saw him at all. I did not care to meet anybody, either friend or stranger, at the time, and with the gathered primroses held loosely in my hand, I .concealed myself behind a dense screen of bushy oaks, and waited for him to pass by. The view was partially obstructed by the inter- vening foliage, and I could not at first make out his dress and features; but when I did, I crouched down to the very earth in a breathless heap, and stared at him with wide, terrified eyes and loudly throbbing heart. He was walking in a direct line with my strained vision, and every few steps he would pause and glance about him apprehensively, as if it were necessary for him to advance with extreme caution. I cowered in the thicket as silent as a shadow, the rapid beating of my heart sounding little less to me than muffled thunder, and every nerve strung to the firmest tension. The rustle of a leaf, the flutter of a bird, the whisper of a passing breeze, might betray me, and then, would my life be safe? He stopped at the fallen tamarack, not ten paces away from my place of concealment, and his eyes went slowly and deliberately over every object anywhere near. Along the line of the fence, through the clambering luxuriance of bitter-sweet and " devil's hair," above the hiardhacks and mullens, and finally settled on the clump of scrub-oak in which I was hidden. The gaze seemed to scorch and shrivel the leaves, and I thought, in my terror, they must wilt and fall off, withered and smitten by the piercing scrutiny of his cruel eyes, and leave me, helpless and alone, exposed to his fury. Surprise, consternation, suspense, and fear were all 12* . page: 138-139[View Page 138-139]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 138-139 I38 - THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. mingling in a mad chaos of bewilderment through my brain, and I looked straight at the man without the power to do otherwise, just as the charmed bird looks in terror at the beguiling serpent. And mine was not a causeless fear, for, by some occult force of divination, I knew I was looking at Burrill Otley's assassin. The man, satisfied apparently that no person was in the vicinity, knelt on one knee beside the tamarack log, scraped away a mass of earth and mouldy leaves, and from the shallow excavation drew forth a small square box. It was securely fastened with a stout hempen cord, which he removed with expeditious care, and over the contents of the box he gloated with a sort of sardonic hap- piness -that was not pleasant to witness. From it he took several rolls of bank-notes, which he examined and replaced with fond nicety, smoothing the frayed edges of the bills, and pressing them compactly together, as if the act of touching them were intensely agreeable to him. Evidently his sole object in-disentombingothe box was to assure himself that his treasure was safe. In his kneeling posture, I could -only see the profiled regularity of his face, and I shuddered to behold the callous, unshrinking look it wore while he was occupied in counting the dead man's money. At last he grew weary of fondling his ill-gotten riches, and to my great relief, he shut the box, re-tied the cord, and buried it again under the old tamarack log. And with an- other penetrating sweep of his eyes around him in every direction, he turned, and retraced his steps the way he had come. How blind I had been! Was not that the same figure I had seen in the old gray coat? The bent, shivering old tramp was no other than this young, genteel, pale-faced gentleman, who so delicately handled the paymaster's bank- notes. I recognized the stealthy walk, the furtive glance; and the masquerade of the long gray coat, so admirably adapted to the snow-covered ground, and the battered gray THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 139 hat, could not deceive me now. I sat pallid and stupefied, and watched him out of sight like one in an agonizing night- mare. Was I mad or dreaming? It was horrible, too horrible to believe! I crept from my retreat more- dead than alive, and tried to think collectedly. To make certain that I was not the victim of some dreadful incubus, and trembling as I never trembled before, I dragged myself to the lqg, dug up the box, and untied the cord. The lid fell back, and I held n my shaking hands the wealth which had cost poor Otley his life. There were half-a-dozen different rolls of bank-notes, each denomination being done up in a separate package and plainly labelled with the amount it contained. A massive gold watch and curiously wrought chain lay beneath, and merrily sparkled in the warm sunshine, as if glad to be in the light of day again. I opened it. The spring gave forth a quick, sharp sound, like the click of a pistol, and I came near dropping it in my sudden fright. The hands pointed to ten minutes past six, and within the heavy case was en- graved the name and date, "Burrill Otley, December 5th, 1859." And, wrapped in a bit of coarse brown paper, were - the studs and sleeve-buttons of jet and diamonds. I was not mad, I was not dreaming. I had only discovered by the merest accident a terrible truth. I could tell who mur- dered the paymaster. A word from me, and the assassin was at the mercy of the law he had wickedly violated and defied. What could I do? What ought I to do? Should I proclaim his crime abroad, and hand him over to suffer the shameful death he merited? No, I could not do it; though guilty, I could not have the execution of a human being on my conscience,-one, too, whom I had known from childhood. NQ common, ill-favored mendicant, aye, but all the more dangerous for that! I shivered. The- world was so beautiful; I could not send one of God's creatures, however vile, o0t of it at the end of the hangman's page: 140-141[View Page 140-141]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 140-141 "O' THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. halter. Heaven forbid that my lips should pronounce his doom! I took a small diary from my pocket -a thing I was never without-- drew the pencil from its slender loop and turned to the fly-leaf. When at school, I had been somewhat distinguished for the facility with which I could disguise my handwriting, and wagers were often laid as to i the authenticity of, my autograph. I had recourse to this old sportive school-girl diversion, and wrote in a hand as quite unlike my own as it is possible to conceive: "Your terrible secret is no longer your own, and Burrill Otley's assassin can no longer remain in Litchfield in. safety.' I deposited the scrap of paper in the box with the money and valuables, closed it, tied the string snugly, and put it back in the place from whence I had taken it. I quickly re-covered it with earth, brushed over the disturbed surface a few tamarack cones and moist dead leaves, and then I sadly left the spot. The sigh of the summer wind seemed to me like the wail of a restless spirit, saying to me in a hollow, reproachful whisper--!"The blood of Burrill Otley is cry- ing out to you for justice!" And the moan of the hem- locks, low and sepulchral, bade me beware how I shielded crime, and tampered with the dignity of the law. So I went home, carrying with me the pale ghost of thie Swamp, and with it a new horror burdened my soul. THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. ' 4I CHAPTER XV. AUNT EUNICE STARTLES THE HOUSEHOLD. T HE instant I arrived at home, my first act was to go directly to the kitchen, which I happened to find for the moment deserted, take the lid from the stove, and quietly -place my neat little morocco pocket-diary on the glowing coals. "So much evidence gone to ashes. I can't be too careful, environed as I am by crime and vigilance," thought I. This prudential holocaust performed, I went in quest of Aunt Eunice, and by her air of supreme importance I divined that she'had informed the household of her inten- tions,. and the news had Iproduced some such effect as a bombshell exploding in the midst of a peaceful camp might 'be supposed to do. Mr. Folger made no objection, but as- sumed a profound gravity of demeanor, and contented him- self by looking a grieved remonstrance. Mrs. Folger was more demonstrative, and strongly disapproved of our course. But she might as well try to move a mountain as to change the mind of Aunt Eunice when it was once made up. She avowed it to be a deceitful proceeding all around. Of course, Miss Dale; was privileged to go if she saw fit, but to drag off Eveleen in that sly way was treacherous in the ex- treme. She had told Archibald all along there was some- thing deep at the bottom of it. People never practise deceit without a reason, and that reason was seldom for any good. Her antagonism delighted Aunt Eunice. It gave her the opportunity for freeing her bosom of its years of accumulated dislike, and the spinster was not backward in expressing her opinion. I kept myself secluded and had very little to say to any one. My stepmother deemed me a weak victim to the amenable duplicity of my formidable aunt, and there let the matter rest. s i page: 142-143[View Page 142-143]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 142-143 i42 THE HEMLOf'K SWAMP. When Keziah came to learn of our going, the faithful old creature just sat down in the nearest chair, drew her apron over her head, and cried right heartily. And so forgetful was she of her domestic duties, that two loaves of bread baking in the oven were burnt to a cinder; and when her mistress scolded her for the negligence, Keziah retorted with uncommon spirit, and said, "If a loaf of bread did burn up, what was that to losing dear Miss Eva." When she"had exhausted herself in a tranquillizing half-hour's cry, Keziah arose comforted, her round black face not destitute of resigned cheerfulness, in spite of the reproving odor per- vading the kitchen of burnt loaves - a mishap which under ordinary circumstances would have filled her soul with mor- tification and humility. , "When is you gwine, Miss Eva??" she inquired, myste- riously, the first time she caught me alone. "Next week." "' But- what day, please, honey?" "Wednesday," I replied. Keziah asked no more questions, and was as beaming and brisk as was her wont. I felt a little hurt secretly, for she might have prolonged her grief, I thought, until I was gone, at least. The news astounded Simon more than all. He construed it into a personal affront, and bitterly denhounced and op- posed my going away. I avoided him as sedulously as I would the presence of a loathsome leper. For my life, I could not help shrinking from his look and touch; he filled me with such utter fear and abhorrence, that it required all my self-control to keep my terror and disgust within prudent bounds. His manner of broaching the topic in which he was so much concerned was highly characteristic of the man. He came up to me with a calm self-assurance that yet did not lack gentlemanly diffidence, a fierce quietness in his bearing, THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 1. 43 and a huskiness of voice that may have been- subdued rage or real distress. Simon's emotions were always complex and hard to determine. "They tell me you are going away, Eva, is ittrue?" "It is true," I replied, briefly, and without looking at him. "Then you intend to break your promise, and brave me?" "Not so; I will most sacredly adhere to my word, whether here or elsewhere. Until Burrill Otley's slayer is brought to justice, and - hanged, I will never marry, and I! believe the time of his punishment is not far off." "What do you mean?" he cried, turning on me savage- ly, and that half smothered, half articulate fierceness of Simon Post's was inexpressibly terrible to me. I kept my composure wonderfully, and rejoined: "Merely that I have a firm reliance that ' murder will out,' as I said to you before; though it may be ever so long concealed, yet in the end the right must triumph. Blood demands blood, and whosoever spills it innocently has for- feited alike the mercy of God and man." ,' What is it to me who is murdered or who is hanged?" said- he, with a sneer and a frown warring in his eyes. "I am not so handsome as Arke Courtwright, perhaps, nor so great a proficient as he at money-getting, but I have never compromised the honor of the woman I love, or laid the stain of a great crime -" "Silence! 5 How dare you breathe to me a thing so dastardly, you of all men, Simon Post?" My earnestness was lost on him, and he answered dream- ily, as if reviewing some truth of the past which carried him back to -happier days: "From my boyhood I have loved only you, Eveleen. I have dreamed and planned alone for you; yes, every act of my life has had a thought of Eya in it." page: 144-145[View Page 144-145]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 144-145 I44 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. I felt a shiver creep over me.. I to have influenced every act of his life! "Your love is dreadful to me, infinitely dreadful. Mer- ciful heaven, love-you / Never speak that word again to me, I implore you!" "How simple you are, Eveleen, with all your woman's cunning and double-dealing. Not while I live will I cease to think of you, if not to love, to hate and curse, and be the relentless destroyer of your earthly peace." And there spoke the true nature of Simon Post. "The hatred and curses of the wicked are never potent. Be satisfied with your present-sin, and add no more evil to your life." And with that I left him, to weigh my words as suited his perverted fancy. CHAPTER XVI. MRS. FOLGER BEWAILS MY TREATMENT OF SIMON. THE following day, while sitting in my room,. I was unexpectedly honored by receiving a visit from my stepmother. Her face wore its velvety expression of feline smoothness, which indicated that she came to persuade and not to command. ( "Well," said she, with a slight prefatory cough,-" well,' Eva, I've been thinking very seriously about what your Aunt Eunice told us yesterday, and I feel it my duty to dissuade you, if possible, from so rash an undertaking. You are quite a stranger to your Aunt Edgerton, and if you accept her solicited invitation - a charity, one may say --it mustf be exceedingly -wounding to your pride. Your father'shouse is the proper place for you until some better fitted person. THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. I45 than Miss Daly is found to introduce you into polite so- ciety." ,' Aunt Eunice is perfectly competent to take care of me anywhere, and will be no discredit to her sister's polite so- ciety; at any rate, I do not anticipate that she will;"I re- plied, coldly. "That is your inexperienced view of the matter. But there is another consideration involved: I presume you do not mean to break off your engagement with Simon?" I can not break off what has never been." ,l What! do you wish me to believe that you have never been engaged to Simon?" opening her eyes. in well feigned surprise. "Certainly not; and you very well know it," said I, shortly. "Not in words, perhaps, but I assuredly inferred from your conduct towards him that it could be nothing else. My regard for your sincerity and womanly delicacy forbade me from thinking otherwise. I never suspected you of such heartless coquetry. I am disappointed in you, Eveleen Folger." And she appeared quite distressed at the enormity of my flirtations with her brother. "I am sorry to have lost your good opinion; but my conscience is entirely clear of the wrong you impute, and I dare say I shall get over your grave distrust of me in time."' She took my quiet sarcasm with unruffled front. "Of course, I keenly feel for my brother, and I have a sister's sympathy for his blighted prospects." She paused, and essayed to wipe from her vision the dew of an invisible tear. "He has always been fond of you, too fond of you, as I have often remarked to Archibald, and it is a cruel way to treat a man's tenderest hopes--a cruel way to reward his patient fidelity." I3U K page: 146-147[View Page 146-147]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 146-147 "6 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. "No doubt," said I, indifferently. "But Simon has never been encouraged by me. And let me say plainly, that he is the very last person in the world that I would ever dream of marrying - the very last, Mrs. Folger." 'The prejudices of some people are unaccountable. I can only repeat that you have ruined his life, and driven him from home." "As you did my brother," I quickly retorted. She attempted a feeble defence. "I had nothing to do with your brother's going away; I always tried to be a mother to him; but he was head-strong and unmanageable, and would be saucy and resentful in spite of all my love and kindness. Simon has never treated ' you disrespectfully --never, Eveleen, and I trust you will not feel remorse in the future for your harsh treatment of him," piously raising her blue eyes to the ceiling. "Re- pentance often comes too late." "Aye, indeed, fatally -too late," I answered, gravely. She did not seem to heed my earnestness, she was so full of her moral reasoning of the theme. "At all events, -I have done my duty, and pointed out to you what is proper and for your good. If you will not listen to me, I cannot help it, and if your life is not as happy as Simon would lave made it, it will not be charged to my fault. I have cautioned you, and my skirts are clear.'" Rising with dignity as if to leave the room, but seeing I did- not urge her to stay, she hesitated, and resumed with less I asperity: ' ; "Simon is in a dreadful way. I really fear for his mind, he takes your going so to heart. Some natures are so fond and faithful in themselves that-they cannot see dissimulation in others, and are incapable of shaking off a vain and un- worthily bestowed affection." This scathingly, and with a righteous elevation of her pale brows. "I pray, do not distress yourself, I think Simon will sur- vive it." TIE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 147 "Oh, you judge his devotion by your own - a very poor criterion, allow me to say. Simon's is not a fickle nature. He suffers, but he suffers silently, the way of all deep, true natures. You should have seen his face just now, when he said in a tone so solemn and broken that I hardly knew it: ' Matilda, I am going away, and to never return!' I declare it went to my heart." Mrs. Folger, moved by the sad remembrance, whimpered audibly, and so genuinely that a tear moistened her pale eyes and bathed the yellow lashes in a lachrymal brine. My heart was flint, and I made no reply;whereupon she re- newed her bewailings in much the same key. "Yes; you should have seen his face then, Eveleen Fol- ger: it was like a stone, and if you have a soul sensible of human feeling for the sufferings of another, it must have been smitten with remorse." Mrs. Folger could say no more for weeping, and sobbingly retired, believing me hopelessly wedded to my iniquities, and her brother a martyr to my arts. Of a truth, Simon did take it to heart. At least they as- cribed his changed appearance to the fact of my going away, and he was sadly changed, although not to the extent of petrescence, as his sister had alleged. Aunt Eunice noticed it, and softened to an excusable, "I believe the simpleton does feel bad about it, the silly, conceited creature, to sup- pose that you would look at him." Keziah, too, had a bit of homely pity for Simon, which she thus pithily expressed: "Well, I 'clare, Miss Eva, the creeter do take on for sartin. But if he 'a' had the sense of an old black woman like I is, he'd 'a' seen afore now dat you would n't tich him with a ten-foot pole."' This comparative measurement of exalted superiority over that of meaner growth was Keziah's manner of defining her disgust of obnoxious things, and in this case it meant an in- ,. page: 148-149[View Page 148-149]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 148-149 "8 THE HEMLOGK SWAMP. superable -gulf which no Simon Post could ever cross--a height he could never attain. "He's jis dirt aside, Miss Eva, he is. His name ain't even 'spectable," she muttered, eying the owner of the objectionable name askant, and wondering how he ever dared be so presumptuous as to risk his love on me. Mrs. Folger's every look and act contained a rebuke, and my father also regarded me as if I were a woman guilty of some unpardonable offence. When parental affection is so untenable as that of my father's, it takes but little to es- trange it. " With scarcely a good-bye to anybody, Simon packed his portmanteau, gloomily reticent as to whither he was going, his only reply when questioned being a crusty, "Away from here and forever." And so he sullenly quitted Litchfield to return, as he said, no more. The day after his departure, which was but two daysprior to the one fixed upon for my own, I went to the tamarack log. The little box and its blood-purchased treasure were gone. CHAPTER XVII. K FZIAH EXECUTES AN ASTONISHNG FLANK MOVEMENT. T N consequence of the unfriendly light in which our going 1 was looked upon, neither my father nor his wife took any interest in our preparations. But Kezialh exhibited a commendable amount of energy in facilitating our arrange- ments. Her zeal was unbounded, and she did no end of kind acts. Mrs. Folger had of course to mourn over the melancholy absence of her brother, and it would have been grievously inhuman of her husbandsnot to do likewise, lnd, THE HEMLOCK' SWAMP. 149 at least outwardly, share in her bereavement, although there were grave doubts of his brotherly-in-law love for the lament- ed Simon. Under these depressing circumstances it was not to be expected that they would accompany us to the depot, or show any disposition to weep at the final leavetaking, and I was very glad they did not, for it saved me the neces- sity of accusing themi of hypocrisy at the last moment. Eli Tompkins, the hired man, was to drive us to the rail- road station, and Mrs. Folger looked as if that was a great condescension on the part of Mr. Folger. Our trunks were brought and placed in the wagon, and we only tarried td take a formal farewell of the assembled family. I kissed my little half-brothers affectionately as in duty bound. Elbert Victor was strongly inclined to cry, but his mother peremp- torily checked his threatened lamentations, and frigidly ex- tended her hand to me, with the austere remark: "Eveleen Folger, I hope you will never have cause-to repent the step you are taking this day." Which Christian observation, if literally translated into the actual wish of her heart, would have read, as hei' manner implied more truthfully than' her- words, "I hope you will, and that right soon, to the day of your. death." My father kissed me in a listless, mechanical way, and, Aunt Eunice, in her best bombazine gown and old-fashioned black bonnet, stiffly offered her hand to each in rotation. But when it came to bidding Keziah good-bye, that faithful old creature could not be found. The poor soul could not trust herself to say good-bye, and so had ingloriously fled until the painful ordeal of parting was over. Mrs. Folger called " Ke-zi-ah! Ke-zi-ah!" in a long-drawn, indifferent intonation, that plainly betrayed the little interest she felt in her domestic's whereabouts, but no " Ke-zi-ah " respond- ed. Aunt Eunice, sorely vexed, took a swift survey of the localities best suited to afford a refuge to one seeking to in- dulge a sudden grief--the back stoop, wagon-house, garden, 13 . page: 150-151[View Page 150-151]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 150-151 I50 THE HE MLOCK SWAMP. and wood-pile, and irascibly gave vent to a short, sharp "Keziah! Keziah! where are you?" All the reward she received for her free exertion of'lungs was a giggling echo of!"Kezi, Kezi!" from the lifeless region of the barn. "The old good-for-nothing, to behave like this," grum- bled she, unable to wink away the tears the " old good-for- nothing's " significant absence called to her eyes. But we could wait no longer, so we left a kindly message of adieu for the poor old servant, quite brief, for we had opr misgiv- ing that they migt never reach her, the doing so depending solely on the integrity of Matilda. We followed our trunks into the long two-horse wagon waiting at the gate, and in this stoical fashion I left my father's house, not soon to return. We attracted no small attention at the depot, for it was a subject of universal wonder to see Miss Eunice Daly, who had never been twenty miles -from the spot where she was born, and never before in a railroad carriage, serenely start- ing out on this surprising journey of many hundred miles. But she evinced no trepidation, and sturdily grasped her bag. and umbrella, like an experienced and self-possessed traveller. Tompkins, saw us comfortably seated in the cars, our tickets and checks secured, and with a hearty shake of his honest hand he bade us God speed, and returned to his team. We had a quarter of an hour to wait, and I saw from the car-window many people I knew passing and repassing like visiois in a dream. Was it really I, Eveleen Folger, cutting loose from all home-ties, and mutely bidding the old home scenes and home faces farewell? The abrupt starting of the cars recalled my wandering thoughts, and I turned to admire the sublime composure of my elderly relative. She sat bolt-upright) trying her utmost to resist the novel motion of the carriage, and evi- THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 151 dently determined that she would not let any one see that she was a novice at this sort of lightning transportation. It was the fast express train, and we thundered through villages and towns, past fields-and gardens, and orchards and wood- lands, with a velocity that warranted us in believing ourselves the sport of some steam-god's enchantments. At the far end of the car, snuggled up by the water-cooler, I remarked a peculiarly quiet figure, habited in a dingy bon- net and shawl which were strikingly familiar to me. What was our astonishment on reaching our first stopping-place' thirty miles from Litchfield, to see this singular female of the dingy bonnet and shawl slowly rise to her feet, turn around with a hang-dog gait and expression, and deprecat- ingly come towards us. "Keziah I " we articulated in a breath. Sure enough, it was our old servant, and sufficiently hum- ble and meek, goodness knows! , "What under- the sun possessed you-" began Aunt Eunice, censuringly, but Keziah's air of abject penitence brought her to a full stop. "I know I's mighty 'ceitful, but I couldn't be parted from Miss Eva nohow, 'deed it was jis tearin' the heart out of me to see her a-fixin' to leave, and I's afeard you would n't let me go if' I asked, and I could n't stan' dat,-'deed I could n't, missus. I's old and black, but, lord bress us, the world is free to travel in, and who's gwine to harm an old culled woman? I's got my ticket like da res, paid for it in good money as I's honestly worked and earned with dese two old hands, and who's gwine to hinder me travellin', I'd like to know?" exclaimed Keziah, in extenuation of her glaring escapade. "We-can't send you back, Keziah, it is too far, and we will be obliged to take you," said Aunt Eunice, in a molli- fied tone. Neither of us was very angry with poor, devoted old Keziah, and she suspected as much. page: 152-153[View Page 152-153]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 152-153 I52 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. "Yes, dat you will. I's boun" to go. 'Sides, you wants a servant. No 'spectable folks travels without dar servants. I jis picked up a few of my tings,'"-here Keziah modestly indicated a neatly tied bundle hitherto concealed under her shawl,-- and says I, I's off too. Dat's what kept my spirits up; 'deed I'd sunk if it had n't bin for what I's gwine to do." "But Mrs. Folger -what will she think has become of you?" "Oh, I fix dat, honey. I tol Tompkins, when he was a- belpin' de man put de little brasses on de trunks, what I's gwine to do, and he laughed fit to split his sides," chuckled Keziah. And I could not forbear a smile, thinking of the confusion her flight would create when her absence should be discovered. How that call of "Keziah! Keziah!" intensi- fied and differently aspirated at every repetition, would reverberate from kitchen to garret, cellar and out-building, until'Tompkins returned and brought witth him a solution of the mystery. The idea was too ridiculous, and I com- menced to laugh at the funny situation, picturing to myself the wrath of Matilda, and the dire disturbance of the household. Aunt Eunice laughed also, and Keziah took heart to grin and roll up her eyes in mirthful appreciation of her own shrewdness; her single anxiety being the fear she had of the low condition of the Georgia colored domestics. -"I's no great-'pinion of the black folks Souf; da 's so lazy and no-account; but I will go with any sort of trash for the sake of bein' war you is, Miss Eva,',' said she, in evidence of her deathless affection for me,-and as if she had made an immense sacrifice of her personal consequence in achieving this retreat from the house of Mr. Folger. We reached the termination of our tedious journey with- out -any serious mishap, and arrived at the beautiful sea- :board city of Savannah just at nightfall, very tired) dusty, and hungry- the three attendant miseries of travellers. THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. I53 i Mrs. Edgerton's carriage was waiting for us at the de- pot. The trimmest of ebony coachmen, in gray livery and' solemn air, sat on the box, and a bright mulatto boy of surprising agility officiated as footman. Keziah; opened her eyes in amazement at the stylish bearing of those of her color, whom she, in her ignorance, had termed " lazy and no-account," and secretly assured herself that she wasnot likely to be forced into such questionable society as she had at first imagined. The active mulatto boy, all hands and eyes and no tongue, assisted us into the carriage, attended to the bag- gage, and skilfully arranged our numerous bags and shawls and umbrellas on the front seat with the humbled Keziah; then he nimbly mounted to his place beside the coachman, and we were driven off at a lively pace to our new home in the "Forest City," the fairest in all the Southland. CHAPTER XVIII. MRS. JUDGE EDGERTON. 5WF, I E had no sooner driven up to a stately mansion stand- ing apart by itself in a forest of shrubbery and-tropical trees, than a handsome and exquisitely attired lady ran out on the wide, vine-embowered veranda, her face beaming and her hands eagerly extended to bid us welcome. ,This bright, winning lady was Mrs. Judge Edgerton. She did not seem to notice Aunt Eunice's old-fashioned bonnet, so fun- nily contrasting with her dainty coiffure of ribbons and lace, but just took her in her arms, rusty bombazine gown, bonnet, and all, and gave her a right loving sisterly greeting. From that happy moment I knew that I should always dearly love my- handsome and gracious Aunt Marcia. , page: 154-155[View Page 154-155]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 154-155 3)4 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. After a deal of hugging, intermingled with tears and smiles and joyous exclamations, she let Aunt Eunice go, and. turned to, me. - "And this is poor Eveleen's daughter - the very image of her mother at her age." She kissed me, and her- little tremulous hands, white as snowdrops, drew me to her in a fond embrace. What two very distinctive beings in appearance were my aunts 1 The one tall, gaunt, and steel-trappy; the other short, plump, and rosy. Yet they were sisters - children of the same parents, and neither had out-lived their young affections. Aunt Marcia was all concern for our welfare. ( You are: very tired, I know, the weather is so terribly warm,. and you have come such a long distance. Your 'ooms are all ready; I superintended the arrangement of hem myself, and we will have tea as soon as you are a little ested and have changed your travelling-dresses. This is rour maid, I presume?" glancing to where Keziah was tanding, overawed and spellbound at the warmth of our relcome. Maid! the word tickled her hugely. She was o longer Mrs. Folger's kitchefscullion, she was Miss Eva's Bad, and mightily did she plume herself thereat. Aunt Eunice nodded affirmatively; her heart was too full }r comprehensive speech, although the sudden metamor- hosis of her quondam New England " help" into a South- 'n waiting-maid struck her a trifle oddly. "Phillis, show the ladies to their room," continued Aunt larcia, addressing a trim little quadroon, who -came smil- gly to do her bidding. Keziah looked crestfallen at the m figure,. the white apron, and immaculate frill of her 3art colleagu, and straightway her soul went down into e lowliest depths of remorseful humiliation. It was heap- g-coals of fire upon her head. - Colored folks South were mebody, and immeasurably her betters in dress and fine tuners; those who lived with grand people, any wa'y; THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 1554 Keziah felt herself justly punished for her former arro- gance. Once in the beautiful apartments designed for our use, I threw myself in a great easy-chair, and sighed for very comfort. The cool matting and white draperies, and the delicious fragrance stealing up from the rose-garden below, made it like fairy-land to me, and I was in a thrill of silent delight. Everything was so tasteful and in complete order. Dressing-room, bath, and cosy little boudoir all in suite, and beauty and refinement everywhere. It was impossible for Keziah to restrain her rapture, and she exclaimed proudly, as if the summit of her earthly aspirations were attained, "Now we is gentry, shua enough!" Aunt Eunice removed her dusty bonnet and veil, utterly scorning the help of Keziah, who was anxious to exercise her newly acquired dignity of maid, and solemnly said, as if she had steeled herself to quite a different reception, in view of her sister's wealth and high position in life: - "For all the world the Marcia she used to be! Her new- . fangled head-gear and silk gowis have not changed her heart an atom. The best is not too good for us, if we are only plain country people. Charity indeed! I'd have liked Matilda Folger to have been here and seen for herself whether we were received like beggars or not. And this room is so pretty-dear me, I hardly dare step about in it,-and all these white hangings, and pictures, and flowers, as to make a body feel as if they were transported and not themselves at all.-" The arrival. of our baggage interrupted her train of self- congratulations, and-was the signal for renewed activity on the part of Keziah, who was not to be outdone by the smart- ly apparelled Phillis in zeal, if she did lack her efficiency-inr - matters pertaining to the functions of lady's mAid. - By her aid our trunks were speedily unpacked, and we quickly- changed our travel-stained dresses for cool, fresh toilets such as the climate of Savannah in July necessitates. : . . . ; ;-.:' X . * ,. page: 156-157[View Page 156-157]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 156-157 156 - THE HEMLOCK SWAMP, Aunt Marcia came herself to conduct us to the tea-table. She stopped while on the way to turn her head and bestow on me a sad little kiss, as if she intended it more for the sister so long asleep under the Litchfield violets than for mle. "Dear child, I can almost see in you our sweet Eva. Her name too, and her soft dark hair and tender dove- eyes!" said she, in a low, retrospective voice. "They used to say that my brother resembled mamma more than I. Archie has dark eyes and hair also, and he is tall and manly." I instantly checked myself, for I saw Aunt Eunice looking at me in undisguised astonishment, and it brought- my enthusiastic panegyric of Archie's personal attractions to an abrupt close. I had forgotten that Aunt Eunice had not seen him tall and manly, as I had, that eventful Christmas morning in the Hemlock Swamp. He was a mere boy when she saw him last. I hastened to allay the curiosity my inadvertency had awakened, and playfully resumed: "t You know, Aunt Eunice, Archie was tall and manly for a boy, though he did like to help you make doughnuts and had a chronic weakness -for coveting forbidden sweetmeats. ' This turned the conversation into another and safer chan- nel. After some further inquiries of a confidential character relating to our old home and the far-away Matilda, Aunt Marcia designated, our seats at the delicately spread tea-table, and proceeded to speak of her own family affairs. "I am sorry that I shall not have the pleasure of present- ing you to Miriam Gilsey this evening. She is occupied in finishing her manuscript to-night, so that she may give to- morrow to you." ' "Miriam Gilsey," I repeated, vaguely. "Yes. Mr. Edgerton's niece, and like a beloved daughter to me. She is going to be married next month, so I am doubly thankful, Eunice, that you have given me Eva to take 'x THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. I57 her place. She it is who acts as my amanuensis when I aim the victim of neuralgia, as you have occasion to know, Eva T "And that occasion I shall not soon forget. But is she an authoress, Aunt Marcia? I think you said it was to finish a manuscript that she was engaged this evening." "Yes, very talented, and writes exceeding well; but she is not the least blue. You will be charmed with her; every- body is." "Oh, I am sure I will," said I, not quite so heartily as I could have wished. My thoughts reverted back to Litch- field, and- centred on one Rachel Perkins, who wrote Sun- day-school books, and supervised the religious column of the Wz'lksburgh Bugle. I had a distinct recollection of her in black mitts, and three long blonde water-curls dripping down her cheeks. Her books were thin morsels of intellec- tual piety, done up in marbled covers and distressing wood- cuts, in which the little girls were depicted in vast pantalets, and the boys in rigid jackets and fat round caps, the like of which was never known to be in fashion since the world began. The girls always had a hoop, and the boys always had a kite in their hand, and they were very moral and im- possible children indeed, such as are only found in books and never exist out of them. Miss Rachel Perkins wrote under the nom-de-plume of " Cousin Rosamond," and weekly in the Bugle she lectured us soundly on the errors of our ways. The three aquatic spiral ringlets of Miss Perkins, her sharp, severe face, and black mitted hands, were all I knew personally of authoresses, and from her I had imbibed a pernicious horror of talented women, especially those of a literary class whose genius all ran to an unlimited indulgence' of pen and ink; and the idea of being? brought into direct daily contact with Miriam Gilsey filled me with dismay. She would be certain to detect the smallest ilnfringement of the rules of Murray, and would always be asking We if I had " 4, , . page: 158-159[View Page 158-159]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 158-159 158 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP , read this or that poet. Her erudition would, be something alarming, and her familiarity with the lore of bards and savants and historians, and all the ologies combined, a pro- fundity of feminine knowledge and learning for one to fear and flee from as they would from the ghost of a book-worm. How gravely she would sound the depth of my scholarship, and place works of elaborate research in my way--learned treatises on all the new theories and dogmas and fanaticisms of the day, and I knew myself to be profoundly ignorant on all those erudite topics. Her poetry would be so high and obscure and seraphic that I could not follow it, and her prose of so lofty a type, and placed in so grand and unattain- able a sphere, that I, poor ordinary mortal, endowed with inferiority of intellect, could not hope to reach its height, were I to number the years of Methuselah. But notwith- standing the dreaded proximity of Miriam Gilsey, that was the happiest evening of my life, and I felt myself nowise a stranger in the luxurious home of Aunt Marcia. CHAPTER XIX. SAVANNAH.' T HE morning broke in unclouded, splendor, and the garden beneath my window waw a wilderness of bloom. I dressed myself expeditiously and ran down-stairs to the brilliant parterre. No rose so fragrant as a Southern rose; no lily so purely white, no breeze so dreamily balmy, no sunshine so rarely clear, no sky so deep and blue! I was in a silent rapture of delight. It was my first morning in a tropical garden, and -it was, to my fervent imagination, an enchanted Eden. No wonder the impetuous Southron loves 'T* * ' THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 159 to idolatry the South. Beauteous Southland! with'all your faults, your fiery tempers, your rebellion and pride, my Northern heart warms towards you in spite of them all. Your! grandeur has been; your nobility is yet. Ye have reared kingly men, and given to the world soldiers and statesmen and scholars unequalled. In time past your voice was potential, the home of genius and giant intellects, and in time to come you must again grasp your old greatness. Though your proud old homesteads are in ashes, your fair lands trodden down and strewn thick with gallant "rebel" graves, conquered, desolated, and subject to a long and re- lentless misrule - a devastated Poland! - yet you have been mighty; and now, howsoever lowly your estate, the strong innate heart of the South will ever beat true to the pulse of the past, and once again her star of leadership and place shall brightly mount the zenith of her old renown, and have voice in the legislation of the nation. Right or wrong, they unflinchingly fought it out, bravely warring to the death, and sparing neither blood nor treasure for the cause they battled for, and held to be their sacred right. Such a spirit and such a people are- never conquered. Some such thoughts as these filled my mind as I loitered along under the odorous shade, forgetful of all save the quiet loveliness around me, and a vague regret that the war had ever been-that its blight was still upon the face of the land. But I was suddenly recalled from my poetic musing by discovering that I was not alone in the garden. A great jessamine shrub, heavy with its burden of white dewy blossoms, separated me from a vision that held me entranced to the spot. At a little distance, seated in a rustic arbor-chair, and evidently unaware of my proximity, was a lady, who, like myself, had come to enjoy an early ramble among the perfume and bloom of Aunt Marcia's charming grounds. She was dressed in'white, set off by tiny scarlet bows as fresh and bright as the morning. And her black hair was rolled away from her page: 160-161[View Page 160-161]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 160-161 60o THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. temples, revealing a noble breadth of brow white and calm as a seraph's, and fell in a mass of long clustering curls almost to her waist. No sooner did she catch a glimpse of me, trembling on the other side of the jessamine, the guilty thing I was! than she sprang up and came to meet me with extended hand and a captivating smile. "Eveleen Folger, I am sure." I stood painfully embarrassed, but contrived to assure her that I was the person named. "Oh, I was confident of it," she laughed; "I know people intuitively; and I am Miriam Gilsey." "You Miriam Gilsey-"I stopped abruptly, conscious of my rudeness. Her black eyes sparkled with subdued merriment, and they were such large, handsome, penetrating eyes too, I was more than ever confused. What a simpleton I had made of myself to get such a stupid idea of author- esses into my head! I think she half guessed the cause of my abashment, for she said, in a happy way which quickly put me at my ease: "I believe in the most unreserved confidence between cousins, as we are hereafter to be, since we call the same lady aunt, and now confess that you had formed a very forbidding opinion of me. " Beguiled by her pleasant words and sweet manner, I acknowledged that I had cherished no small fear of her learning and literary dignity, and told her of the terrible Miss Perkins in extenutation of may unjust opinions. In self- defence, I spared neither Miss Rachel's Sunday-school books, nor her column in the Wilksburgh Bugle. Miriam-laughed joyously; and said it should be her duty to correct my wrong impressions, and comper me to retract my false views of authoresses even my aspersions of the injured Miss Perkins. The breakfast-bell here interrupted our conversation and summoned us to the house. Aunt THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. I6I. Marcia was pleased :o see us enter the breakfast-room to- gether, and cried, delightedly "Oh, you truants out so early, and both of you looking as if you had stolen all the color from my moss-roses. Hsee you have managed to introduce yourselves and have no need of my good offices." "No, aunty; we got along nicely without your aid, and I think Eveleen is quite as well pleased that we met as we did. I know I am, " replied Miriam. I ran to Aunt Eunice and slyly tucked a creamy white jessamine in the purple ribboned primness of her best morn- ing-cap. She did not notice the floral adornment, and ate her breakfast unconscious of how well the sweet flower be- came her dear old face, wrinkled and severe as time and sorrow had left it. How happy I was, and how far back in the discordant past seemed to me the tragedy of the Hemlock Swamp and the lovelorn annoyance of Simon Post. Simon the masterful, Simon the silent and gloomy, Simon the feared and distrusted, now happily, so I fancied, out of my life, thank heaven! for- ever. The thought made me see beauty in everything and goodness in every one. As Aunt Marcia had predicted, I was charmed with Miss Gilsey, and it was impossible to be other- wise. Beautiful, gifted Miriam, light of heart as a mocking- bird; and that royal -genius of hers looking out from her great, kind eyes, and sleeping like a dream on the full, intellectual brow. Hers was a face that spoke of noble womanhood: strength and earnestness, and purity of soul, were written there; and to read what Miriam wrote was to be the better for the reading. O shade of Rachel Perkins, how grievously did you mis- lead my easily impressed youth! " L . page: 162-163[View Page 162-163]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 162-163 I62 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. CHAPTER XX. "TERARY BARNACLES. 1N\ OTHNG pleased me so much as to ensconce myself in Miss Gilsey's study after writing-hours, and have a delicious chat with her on all sorts of topics. There was a humorous vein in her nature which was altogether irresisti- ble, and the ease and animation with which she conversed I never saw excelled by another woman. One day, while alone with her in the study, I said, the question being one which I had often thought of before, but never asked directly: - "I know that the birds are never taught to sing-their song gushes forth glad and free as a mountain rill; but do authors- write simply because they cannot help it, and as naturally as the flowers bloom and the trees unfold their leaves?" "Speaking for myself, I think they do. It is a particular gift, like that of music and art, and cannot be created or forced where it is not already possessed by birthright; but it can be cultivated. The talent is from God, the educating of it belongs to the individual. Although it may be a pur- suit which absorbs all our taste, and a source of continually Increasing pleasure, yet it demands, like all other earnestly followed occupations, a vast amount of toil and application before it can ever become a success worth the naming., To be id-le is to be sinful, no matter what our station in life may be. That was one of Uncle Edgerton's favorite precepts, and I believe, from his early instilling my mind with its great truth, I drifted into authorship. No difficult task, since I encountered none of the trials and discouragements which so often beset the path of young and ambitious writers. , THE HEMLOCK SWA-MP. I63 Even your youthful terror-- Miss Perkins--had her gifts, and-" "But such a gift," I laughingly interrupted; "iheaven save me from ever being obliged to read the-voluminous out-pouring of her genius!, You must admit, Miriam, that there are many things in literature as in every thing else which are incongruous and distressingly- tiresome. In our village we had a circulating library, and weekly papers and magazines, like the rest of the world. There was the Literary Banquet, ' expressly suited to the requirements of the family circle,' so the publishers announced on the highly embel- lished cover; and the Lady's Bouquet, designed solely for the boudoir. But I grew tired of them all. It was always the same author month after month and year after year. Warmed- over stories, served up like hashed meats in se rial after serial that had no beginning, no middle, and no end consistent with its title," said I, warming with the subject, and really believing myself quite eloquent, especially when I saw Miriam attentively interested, which urgedme to a resump- tion of the theme, and I continued: "It was an everlasting repetition of the same old thread- bare ideas and worn-out moral. There was very little differ- ence to bed discovered in the tale of to-day and that of five years ago. Araminta dragged her serial through its pre- scribed ten months, hammering it, like gold leaf, to the thinnest possible texture; and Orlando, gallantly, following Araminta's guidance, bravely struggled through his counter story of rashy complicated plot and wearisome detail, until the requisite number of chapters were accomplished and his task considered finished. I gave up reading the Literary Banquet out of pure weariness of Araminta and Orlando." Miriam turned from her desk, and swept down into the wooing depths of a blue damaskfauteuil, half serious and half amused by my earnestness. "Oh; you poor demoralized critic, how can you be so page: 164-165[View Page 164-165]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 164-165 I6-4 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. severe; but what you say is true, and a grave mistake in both author and publisher. To retain for many years in succes- sion the same writer must necessarily become prejudicial to all concerned. The author, having no motive for spurring himself out of his habitual jog-trot, growks careless and in- different regarding his work,- and his productions naturally degenerate into the merest commonplace. The decay of mental force is self-evident; the lack of proper stimulation to renewed energy is perceptible to the dullest reader. It' enervates the ablest talent, and makes a tread-mill of intel- lect by placing it without the magic circle of competition, which has a marvellous effect in sharpening the mind and- inciting us to fresh action and higher purposes." d'Ah, how sensibly you talk, Miriam. There is little danger of you ever becoming one of the tread-mill sort," said I, looking at her admiringly. "I would esteem it a positive injustice to myself to do so. I want, and always mean to retain, a free pen to write when and what and for whom I please." "And there speaks the right spirit of a worthy indepen- dence. I wish there were more women in the world like you, Miriam." "'You over-rate my worth," said she, with a dissenting smile; "so no more compliments, if you please, dear Eva. A further discourse of the publishers, I think, is greatly to be preferred. And now, since you have presented the sub- ject in such a truthful light, it reminds me of a conversation I had not long ago with an accomplished and benevolent magazine publisher on this very topic. My views are iden- tical with yours, Eva, and you can judge of my surprise when I found this gentleman, who has a whole corps of Aramintas and Orlandos on his staff of 'regular, contribu- tors,' heartily concurring in my sentiments. And quite as singular was Mr. Pipsic's odd but pertinent defence of the system that he candidly allowed to be injurious to the parties of O THE HEMLOCK SWAMP., I65 most interested," said she;X and I'll not soon forget the comical grimace that accompanied the words. "'You see, Miss Gilsey, it is our fate. It is a rut we have got into and can't get out of without a sore infringe- ment of conscience. We are, to use a homely metaphor, stuck fast, and dislike to give the decisive wrench which alone can free us. I am sensible that for my own interest and the columns of the Domestic Hearth, I have far too much of the milk of human kindness in my nature. To state the plain truth, I have not the courage to tell those who have been furnishing us stories for the last twenty years th at their time has gone by, and we would take it as a favor if they would resign. I am aware that we need fresh vigor-- original ideas, younger talent; but they expect to be em- ployed. It is a second nature to them to write for the 2Domestic Hearth. They depend upon us materially for their daily sustenance, and I have not the heart to hint that a change would be desirable.' "I was certainly delighted to hear such manly and humane sentiments emanate from the breast of a successful publisher like Mr. Pipsic, and I took no'pains to conceal the strong admiration I felt for his Christian forbearance in the matter. "'Oh,' said he, in reply, as if he wished me to know that he was not alone in his trials and philanthropy, 'there is my friend Busby, of the Home Casket, in the same un- pleasant predicament. He has half a dozen C regulars on his hands that he can't shake off, and retains solely from motives of benevolence. Busby says he is willing to pension them one and all, if they will abstain fronm serials and a- prominent place in the Casket. He calls-them literary bar- nacles, and, by my life, it is nio bad idea.' - The last I thought exceedingly funny, and I then made up my mind never to merit classification among the literary barnacles of Mr. -Busby's Casket. What a wag, that Busby must be, to page: 166-167[View Page 166-167]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 166-167 I66 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. be sure! Literary barnacles, indeed! just think of it, Eve- leen!" and a merry laugh broke from Miriam's wine-red lips. "A very uncivil speech, I should say, but, poor fellow! I suppose they did cling desperately to the Casket. Self- appreciation rarely deserts the human breast, and doubtless they never thought of themselves in the unprepossessing light of literary barnacles, whatever Mr. Busby's private opinion might be. But how about the critics, Miriam? it is they who would throw me into a cold perspiration if I were anl author." "' The critics,' says Disraeli, 'are men who have failed in literature and art,' and the inimitable author of Lothair well knew of whom he was speaking. There are all sorts of re- viewers: the ridiculing, the careless, the satirical, and that nondescript being who praises you in one line and abuses you in the next, who sets you up in one paragraph and knocks you down in the second, and who contradicts and stultifies himself every other sentence, quite as a matter of course. And there is the fatherly reviewer, who kindly gives you advice touching any future effort you may have in view, and gravely admonishes you to be somebody else and not your self at all. And so, altogether, a fine chowder the critics make of lit, for no two of them from Maine to San Francisco will agree on any one point throughout the entire book; and therein a sensible author will find consolation. But a t)ruce to a longer discussion of the subject; and here comes Mr. Searles to add his protest against it." She arose to greet her betrothed husband, and I, conscious that I was one too many just then, discreetly left the room: In less than a week from that day Miriam Gilsey was Mrs. Morton Searles, and had left us for 'a protracted tour of Europe. / - THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. I67 CHAPTER XXI. AT THE WHTE SULPHUR SPRINGS. MMEDIATELY after the marriage and departure of Miriam, Aunt Edgerton turned her attention to- the serious business of deciding the question of her yearly flight northward. "I wish I could make up my mind where to pass the summer," she said, -one morning, as we were leaving the breakfast-table for the drawing-room; "'I am tired to death of watering-places in general, and if I could hit upon some- thing new, I should consider myself fortunate. Dr. Alvord urgently recommends me to try the White Sulphur Springs -a wild spot somewhere on the top of the Alleghany Mountains, perfectly isolated and in a dreadfully inacces- sible region." Neither Aunt Eunice nor myself could testify to the merits of the mountain resort in question; so we were silent, and Mrs. Edgerton resumed: "Dr. Alvord insists that the waters are infallible in cases of neuralgia - -my old torment; and then your palpitation, Eunice, it might prove beneficial for that also. I presume I could endure it for a month or so. All the South go there." I had all this time been carefully considering the matter in my own mind, and it struck me that this wild, isolated nook, nestled away in the mountains of Virginia, was just the place of all places for us to go. The cool, breezy heights, cloud-capped and purple in the shadows, the splendid sun- sets, rose up before me, and I ventured to second Dr. Alvord's advice. "I like the mountain project very much, Aunt Marcia, I and the more inaccessible the better. It will be so wild and grand -nothing tame and artificial. about it. The scenery page: 168-169[View Page 168-169]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 168-169 "68 - THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. just as God made it thousands of years ago, and rocks and trees and waterfalls abounding on' every hand; and then we shall see all the Southern elile-courtly dames of the old school, and knightly gallants of the chivalrous blue blood, that once made Virginia the- proudest of States, and her sons and daughters courted and admired the world over." My enthusiasm was contagious, and instantly put an end to Aunt Marcia's waverings. "Well, then, it is settled that we go to the White Sulphur, but, dear me! where is it - I mean how are we to get there? I must ask Dr. Alvord. He is forever decanting upon the virtues of its miraculous waters, and he ought to be able to tell without recourse to the geography of Virginia." For weeks previous to, this important decision, our re- spective wardrobes had been undergoing extensive ad- -ditions, and they were now pronounced complete by my fashionable aunt. Mrs. Edgerton's was elaborate, while that of Aunt Eunice was as simple as her sistXer's was costly. As to mine, Aunt Marcia had it all her own way, and I resigned myself into the hands of her Parisian mantua-maker without a murmur. -It was my good aunt's delight to constitute herself a chap- eron on every possible occasion; for Miriam Gilsey, young, beautiful, and talented, had -been an immense credit to her. Now she lavished her love :and purse on me with equal fervor. I was young, at any rate, if not especially gifted, and I think, with some slight reason, she thought me not- wholly -unattractive. Provided with a guide-book-and a suitable attendant, we started on our journey in the best of spirits. We reached the ancient town of Staunton without accident, and shortly after leaving its quaint old houses and narrow streets, the tedious ascent of the mountain began- a mighty chain stretching away before us on either hand, and seeming, in their lofty height, to forbid our further progress. ' THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. i. 69 The transit was exceedingly slow, but the scenery, as we crawled up and up toward the clouds, was sublime beyond expression, althoutgh to those of a timid nature it was more appalling than it was grand. Range after range, and peak after peak, broke upon the view with startling abruptness, and far beneath their towering crests, fertile valleys, and sunny slopes, and neat white farm-houses, appeared, slumber- ing in the misty haze of distance, dim and tranquil as the landscapes we see in dreams, and imagination painted it some fairy bit of earth, from which all the cares and vicis- situdes of life were shut away, and only peace and beauty dwelt. The vast solitude was as still as if no human being had ever awakened an echo in its leafy depths. Majestic, rugged, and verdure-crowned, the mountains held their solemn state, darkened at times by cloud-shadows, and again flooded by the most brilliant sunlight; and then, going rapidly from one transition to another, each as won- derful of its kind as the last, their tops were veiled in silvery vapors, a nebulous sea where floated mirage ships, which formed and vanished so speedily that they were gone before one could determine whither they were sailing. Slowly and cautiously the engine labored up the heavy grade, crept around gigantic curves, toiled along stupendous embankments and across yawning chasms and trestle-bridges, like a thing endowed with reason, and knowing the dangers besetting the way. Turbulent cascades hissed down the jagged rocks; huge trees of a century's growth leaned grim and motionless above narrow gorges, -where the roar of unseen waters dashed in an endless, angry cadence,and no song of bird or hum of insect was ever heard. There, in the olden days, the stealthy Indian had roamled, fierce in his war-paint and pitiless in his deeds, and the wily panther had leaped on his prey. But now the dominion of the Indian had passed away, and the wild beasts had retreated yet farther within the unex- Is page: 170-171[View Page 170-171]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 170-171 17P THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. plored' recesses of the mountains - farther even than the progressive footsteps of civilization had ever dared to pene- trate. Gone were the once savage lords of the soil, and the plunge of the torrent and the scream of the eagle alone broke the silence. I was so absorbed in contemplating the wild grandeur of the scenery, that I was quite lost to all sense of fear; but not so my less enthusiastic fellow-travellers. Aunt Edgerton was visibly trembling, and Aunt Eunice, stoical as she was on ordinary occasions, looked askant from the car-window, and nervously ejaculated every time a par- ticularly dangerous place was passed: "Well, this is what I call pokerish. Heaven only knows where we would go to if anything should happen to the engine. Goodness me! IS hope the engineer is a sober person. If we should get off the track, a thousand feet down- wards is the least we could expect, and there would be little left of us, I can tell you, after rolling that distance over rocks as sharp as swords and among trees as tall as steeples. " Keziah meanwhile soothed her terrors by muttering half inaudible fragments of the Methodist -Church service, and resignedly closed her eyes whenever a more than com- mon declivity presented itself, as if she were calmly bidding theworld adieu, and ready to meet her fate with Christian fortitude. Night came on while we were yet crawling upward and onward at a snail's pace, and darkness spread het sombre mantle over the scene. We were glad enough when the terminus of our dusty journey was gained, and we found our- selves transferred from the railroad-carriage to the more com- fortable coach, which was in waiting to convey tired travellers from the station to the hotel. We filed in one after another, too weary to heed aught that was transpiring about us, or more than, barely notice the forlorn aspect of the score or two of people-deluded pleasure-seekers like ourselves- who were crowding for seats, and apparently had more THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 171 appetite than either good temper or patience in their stock of cardinal virtues. We were all in at last; the coach rattled off at a lively rate, and in a few moments we drew, up with a grand flourish before the principal entrance of the hotel. The great build- ing was all ablaze with lights, and soft strains of gay waltz- music drifted out on the still summer air. Doors and win- dows were wide open, and the long verandas thronged with richly attired promenaders. The hotel was surrounded on every side by wide, white-pillared piazzas, and was certainly a very imposing edifice, from an exterior point of view. The arrival of the coach was the signal for a general rush from ball-room and parlors: some to meet and welcome expected friends, and others merely " to see who had come " -the gentlemen to seize upon the daily papers--there was but one mail a day and the ladies to gratify a natural curiosity. This arrival of the train was the great event of the evening, as I subsequently discovered, and always brought a rush to witness the alighting of the travel-worn passengers, who one and all, in their sorry plight, would gladly have dispensed with their presence. We were ushered into a plainly fur- nished reception-room by a tidy mulatto woman, who served ice-water as if it were choice burgundy, and then we stopped to take breath and look around us. Phillis and Keziah clung with a firm and tenacious grasp to our water-proofs, shawls, and parasols to prevent their being pulled away and trampled under-foot by the surging sea of humanity bubbling about us. Aunt Eunice, all dusty and lornj sank into the nearest chair, bewildered by the strange sights and sounds that ever follow in fashion's train. Light laughter, mirthful whispers, changeful music; the airy footfalls of- happy-hearted dancers"; lights, perfumes, and costly apparel; gleamed everywhere, confusing eyes and ears, and. palling the senses by their very abundance. Ball-room beauties in magnificent toilets - trailed, diamoned, and radiant -swept page: 172-173[View Page 172-173]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 172-173 172 THE HEnMLOCK SWAMP. by, conscious of their power, and wearing it royally -reign- ing queens of society, who seemed born for just this life of idle splendor. Mrs. Edgerton had judiciously written, requesting that apartments might be reserved for her, some days in advance of our arrival, and she had been assured by return post that "excellent- accommodations " were at her command when- ever she should be pleased to honor the hotel by her dis- tinguished presence. A very flattering assurance, if the words had meant anything; and I am sorry to say they did not. We had the august room-clerk's promise, certainly, couched in the politest language, but - so had five hundred credulous applicants, who innocently expected to be pro- vided with "excellent accommodations" on their arrival. Had my confiding aunt been better versed in the manage- ment of watering-place hotels, especially during the height of the season, she would have known that her letter, promis- ing " every comfort and the early pleasure of her company," was simply the duplicate of a thousand others, equally sincere, and as likely to be kept. To be brief, our comfortable apartments turned out just none at all. The house was full -packed--they were turning numbers away for lack of room - literally packed; but a cottage might be secured in the morning,- would that do? Mrs. Edgerton, not a little indignant, replied that she "supposed it would-have to do, since they were here," and with her stateliest manner bade the waiting attendant to show her to the chamber, cellar, garret, or closet, which- ever it might be, wherein they intended to lodge her, and to do it quickly. The domestic was swift to obey, and with candle flaring high above her turbanned head, she led the way, and we toiled after, fatigued and out of temper, tlrough numberless uncarpeted halls and a labyrinth of dreary, illy- lighted passages, to a great double-bedded room that was. more bare and ghostly, if possible, than the gloomy halls. Aunt Edgerton looked around in dismay. THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 173 "Mercy, do you call this one of your best rooms! Why, a barn is preferable. I can't stay here; it is no better than a den! I doubt if Dr. Alvord will ever be able to establish himself in my good graces again. Thi's is a little too much, and hereafter, believe me, I shall adopt his advice with due caution. I am entrapped, really entrapped ; but there-is no help for it now. It would require very efficacious water in- deed to compensate one for this sort of shabbiness and dis- comfort. But is this the best room? ' appealing in a pointed manner to the servant, who until now had been speechless. "'Deed it is, one of the berry bes' rooms; dar's no trash goes in here, it's allers served for de gran' folks. Heaps of fine ladies has had it afore you. Strangers mostly don't like da 'commodation at fuss, but da does when da is use to it, and don't mine for da splendus fixins." Having delivered herself of this bit of consolation, the servant respectfully withdrew. "Well, I never!" exclaimed Aunt Marcia, dejectedly dropping into one of the four splint-bottomed chairs which adorned the apartment, and listlessly allowing Phillis to re- move her bonnet and mantle. There was no window, a shaky glass door opening upon the veranda answering the purpose; and of blinds or curtains there were none. The dressing-table, a wonder of its kind, was hoisted on three tremulous legs, and provokingly wrig- gled if the weight of a hair-brush was laid upon it. And above this unique piece of cabinet-ware hung a seven by nine looking-glass, which made one's face resemble the linea- ments of a contortionist if one had the courage to court its reflections; and beneath, on the palsied table, was a tin can- dlestick in which burned a thin candle with a funeral wick and much overflow of. superfluous grease. In the opposite corner was another table of similar dimensions and corre- spending weakness, whereon was placed an imposing bowl and pitcher, a soapless soap-dish, and a crash towel. The 15 - , ': page: 174-175[View Page 174-175]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 174-175 174 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP, beds vere large enough to admit of us all being laid out in state and room to spare, and were uninvitingly lumpy in the middle and crushed at the head. But the grand feature of the furniture was comprised in two rough boards standing upright and rudely fastened against the wall; and this was the nearest approach to anything like a closet the room contained. Before this primitive structure drooped a faded blue cambric curtain, much too narrow for the space it was intended to cover, and hopelessly twisted and soiled at the end. 7 This is the wardrobe, I presume," said Aunt Marcia, scornfully lifting the wormy curtain and as scornfully letting it fall again. "Just think of my blue moire antique, and my lavender silk, and my new black gras grain, hanging there. I vow, I won't- unpack a thing. I'll take the first train to- morrow for somewhere else; indeed I will; and heaven only knows where they will put Phillis and Keziah, if this is the best they can offer the guests." "I declar, missus, I'd be afeared to seep in dis ol ark, away from you, and I's jis tellin Kezi dot we'd make a pal- let:on da floor- dar's da satchels, and shawls and tings," pleaded Phillis, her fear of ghosts getting the better of her usual temerity. "Well, do as you like. I am sure I have no objection. It is a matter of perfect indifference to me where any of us sleep, I feel so completely upset," said her mistress, with an air of touching resignation. During Mrs. Edgerton's unsatisfactory scrutiny of the room, Aunt Eunice had quietly divested herself of her wrappings, and was prepared to take a philosophical view of the ques- tion. "There is no use grumbling," said she, forcibly. "It is a vault of a place, -but we can stand it for one might, I sup- pose." She went to the bed and gave the pillows and [ mattress a vigorous punch, and carefully turned down the /' , THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 17-I covering to inspect the condition of the linen. "It's a very good bed, although it is so flat and no shake-up to it, and the sheets, seem fresh and white. Now, do you undress and get into it as soon as ever you can, that's my ad- vice. You will have plenty of time to look about in-the morning." "But the door, aunty--you forget about that," I re- minded. "There is no bolt or lock, and to retire without it being fastened -goodness! I'd not be able to close my eyes the livelong night." Aunt Eunice paused, a trifle perplexed for the instant, but she was equal to the difficulty, and began to rummage her bag in quest of some implement that would obviate the trouble and allay my anxiety. A pair of scissors were quickly produced and pressed into service in place of a bolt, and when the door was secured to her satisfaction, Aunt Eunice mounted a chair and skil- fully hung her black shawl before the staring glass panels. ro be sure, it made that part of the room look like a hearse, but it protected us from the prying eyes which the incessant tramping of feet to and fro on the piazza outside warned us were not far distant, and, of course, not over-scrupulous., In the meantime I had availed myself of the refreshing contents of the water-jug, and now gave way to Aunt Edger- ton, who approached the crazy old washstand in great dis- gust of its decrepitude- and meagre appointments. Phillis briskly emptied the bowl for the use of her mistress, pouring the murky water into a wooden pail conveniently near at hand, and in a second a merry little stream was traversing the floor and making directly for her neatly spread pallet. The gaping staves and loose hoops had escaped her notice, the light was so low and dim, and Phillis gazed in unbounded astonishment at the sudden deluge. "Laws a-me,'if dat dar ain't a bucket, shuah nuff!" she cried, contemptuously, catching up a towel and making a . X page: 176-177[View Page 176-177]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 176-177 I76 THE HEMLQCK SWAMP. f hasty dive to check the course of the water. I could not help laughing; although poor Aunt Marcia groaned, and stepped gingerly across the puddle to save her feet a wetting, and her skirts from being drabbled. The momentary lessening of the candle-admonished us to hurry our-preparations for retiring if we would not grope for our pillows in total dark- ness, and we were soon forgetful of all fatigue and vexa- tion in a restful and tranquillizing slumber. CHAPTER XXII. WE ARE DOMCILED IN A COTTAGE. -T 'H1E next morning found us greatly improved in good temper, and ready to be amiable, even to the forget- ting of last night's annoyances. After a vast amount of unnecessary trouble and delay, we were finally told that a cottage in a desirable location was vacant, and we were at liberty to become its occupants if the place'suited us. The offer was gladly accepted by Mrs. Edgerton, who began to perceive that one must put up with no end of grievances for the sake of a summer's pleasuring among the mountains, and we immediately took possession of our new quarters. The cottages were, for the most part, mnerely small white- washed cabins, surrounding the hotel like a brood of callow chickens clustering about a motherly old hen, but they were palaces compared to the hotel. 'If not elegant and commo- dious, they were quiet and comfortable, and afforded an exclusiveness which the hotel, from its great magnitude and over-crowded condition, could not command. Our first day at the cottage was passed very pleasantly, and when we saw how eagerly the very-poorest accommodations were seized THE HEMLOCK SWAMP.' !" upon, we thought ourselves exceedingly fortunate in securing our cheerful little cabin. It was so retired and free from the rush and excitement of hotel life, that-I soon began to love everything connected with it. Screened by the thick vines that made a perfect bower of the tiny porch, I could see, without being seen, the hundreds of all sorts of people who were constantly passing and repassing my secluded re- treat in their idle rambling here and there wherever fancy prompted. I was awakened the following morning by hearing a voice at my door, which said: , Any sulphur-water dis mornin', Miss? I allers brings it aroun' in de mornin'; " and the question was accompanied by the clanking of a dipper. and pail, as the young mulatto woman set it down and meekly awaited my answer. I hastily declined the civility. Thie odor, so suggestive of that awful place my imaginative mind clothed With sudch lurid terrors, was quite sufficient. The girl forthwith retired, remarking, as she took up her pail, "Oh, you will drink it after a while. Never been to de Springs afore; heaps of folks don't like it at fus', but da, soon gets to change-dar taste." And so I did before I had been a week at the Springs. When in Rome we are admonished to do as the Romans do. The adage applies as well to other localities, and when you are at the White Sulphur, you must do as the Sul-phur- ites do --drink ten glasses of the water daily, and take a bath at a temperature ranging anywhere between ninety- : eight and a hundred and twenty degrees. That is the cor- rect thing; and if you should happen to die under the treat- ment, why, of course, it is very sad ; but a malady that can't be drowned out nor scalded out, will be very likely to carry you off any way, so there is no cause to complain. The youth at the spring, who presided early and late over the healing waters, kindly offered me a lump -of salt, ^M . .. page: 178-179[View Page 178-179]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 178-179 178 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP and when I looked at him for an explanation of this generous action, he laconically remarked, " to take the taste out of your mouth," and proceeded to' dip me up a glass of the delectable water. I swallowed the draught without falter- ing; but the face of Aunt Eunice, while undergoing-a like initiation, was a sight to behold. When she had somewhat recovered her breath, I heard her mutter in a low and deeply disgusted tone : "There's a dead cat in it, as surer as you are born. Palpitation or not, Z drink no more of it." And she did n't. Her acquaintance with the medicinal qualities of the baths was quite as brief, and as abruptly discontinued. She never indulged in the luxury but once; and while she was endur- ing her first and last plunge in mineral water, I chanced to meet Miss Jennie Rich ton. I was sitting in the ante-room awaiting the reappearance of my two aunts from the bathing apartmentsadjoining, when the door opened, and a lively little lady, with a rosy infantile face and wilful childish ways, entered the room. She was fresh from the bath, and attired in a blue cashmere dressing-gown, which wonderfully became her petit figure and fair complexion, and her pretty auburn hair was loosely tucked in a silken net, and glistened through the confining meshes like threads of sunlit gold. She was a trifle limp and exhausted from the effects of the bath, and began to envelop herself in innumerable wrap- pings,-to produce what is called, at the Springs, " the reac- tion." She seemed bent on a strong reaction, and seeing that she was having some difficulty in arranging her shawls, I politely tendered my assistance. She turned towards me with a bright look and a smile of half recognition : "Oh, thanks; you are very kind! Mamma is always so long. When her compartment-door shuts, I know it is for an hour; and she expects me to wait for her. There, I believe I am sufficiently wrapped, at least I am near being smoth- ered." 'She spoke like a pretty, spoiled child, but there was THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 179 a dash of sprightliness about her, and a certain winsome grace, that was singularly captivating, notwithstanding all her baby nonsense of manner, and easy, self-assumed prattle. After a moment, which she had no 'doubt spent in very serious reflections touching my individual identity, she seemed to have satisfactorily solved the question of who I was, and archly lifted her blue eyes from the contemplation of her dainty slipper to my face. "You are Mrs. Edgerton's niece, I think. Am I not clever at guessing? Ah, I see that I am ; and you are not a blue like Miriam Gilsey? She was so dreadfully literary, and married so well. Mr. Searles is a millionnaire and not a simpleton, and you know most men are," Igiving her sunny little bead a wise shake, and looking as demure as a tired kitten. I did not reply, for before I had time to utter a syllable, she resumed the conversation, and proceeded to introduce herself in the most confiding way imaginable. "But how I am running on, and you do not even know my name. I am Jennie Richton, and I hope you will like me, for I am certain that I shall like you." She put out a little snowdrop of a hand, and I took it in both of mine, as- suring her by the act that I was prepared to like her very much. "I am sure we shall be the best of friends, Miss Richton, at least it will not be my fault if we are not." "And I can say the same. I saw Mrs. Edgerton this morning, and I thought you must be her niece. What an admirable aunt she is! I met Miriam two winters ago in Savannah; she was greatly admired, and had such distress- ingly learned gentlemen in her set that I was afraid to ven- ture near any of them." I was amused at her naivete, it was so artless and unaf- fcted, and yet there was a deal of airy self-possession about her which told of Society's schooling, and that her sphere in life was among those who toil not, neither do they spin, but are clothed more radiantly than the Illies of the valley. page: 180-181[View Page 180-181]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 180-181 - I80 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. She was avowedly a spoiled beauty, but she had contrived to keep within her breast a simple, kind little heart, as in. nocent and free from guile as an infant's, too simple in fact to be anything-else; so, on the whole, I thought that I g should really be rather fond of Miss Jennie Richton. And, in return for the unreserved confidence she had reposed in me, I said: "You are right in your- supposition. I am Mrs. Edger- ton's niece. My name is Eveleen Folger, and I am not at all brilliant." "Oh, I am so glad of that!" she eagerly exclaimed. "I am not in the least brilliant either. I am mortally afraid of people who have brains, and for that-reason always pick the stupid-ones when I am in search of a friend." - Thank you," I replied, dryly. She laughed joyously, not a bit disconcerted by the doubt- ful compliment inadvertently paid me. ' Oh, I mean the stupid ones compared to the brilliant ones we meet in society. I prefer the lark and the dove, you know, to the eagle, and - and-" she paused for want of another appropriate simile. "The buzzard, or hawk, perhaps," I mildly suggested. "Yes; or the ostrich,: or the sparrow. They are very good similitudes, especially when you can think of no other. But I am the poorest person in the world for calling to mind comparisons." And then she rambled off to another topic, and one with which she was far more conversant. "I presume you will be at the hop to-night; it promises to be a very exclusive affair--the grandest of the season. I'll Te late myself, for I intend saving all my energies for the German; and those tiresome round dances do fag one so!.. Here comes mamma at last, so I must leave you; but don't fail to attend the hop; besides, a perfect avalanche of new arrivals is expected by the evening;train--:very distin- - THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. I8l guished people some of them, I am told, and I would not miss witnessing the unloading of the coaches for anything." The last she uttered in a half whisper, and dutifully arose to meet the lady she called mamma, who was wrapped to the eyes, and zealously wooing the enervating " reaction;" and with a backward bow and smile Miss Jennie Richton disap- peared -just as Aunt Eunice, her face the hue of a boiled lobster, and her hair and garments in great disorder, made her entrance from the opposite door. {' If I was ever thankful in my life, it was when I got out of that tub," she gasped, nodding irefully in the direction of the baths, and trying as well as the trembling of her hands would permit to twist up her loosened hair. "It's a humbug, that's what it is, and you don't catch me letting them scald me in this way again. The water kept getting hotter- and hotter, and I had no idea how to turn it off. A temperature of ninety that officious colored woman said who fixed it for me, and she stirred a thermometer about in it -to prove it; bte, thermometer or not, I knew it was a hundred if it was anything. I'm as weak as a rag, and perspiring like a steam-pump. Just look at my forehead, I am oozing at every pore. They need not tell me it's healthful, because I know it ain'et: it's too much against the working of nature." Poor Aunt Eunice staggered to a seat, and wiped the per- spiration from her cheeks and brow-in no happy mood. "Yes, I see,-aunt, you are all of a drip; and now let me wrap you up nicely in this cloak, and you will have a splendid reaction. " Without waiting permission, I began muffling her in the heavy waterproof cloak Keziah had brought for the purpose. But she resisted vigorously, and tartly refused my good offices. ' Upon my word, Eveleen, do you want to suffocate me? Reaction! I should think it was a reaction. I'm as strength- less as wet paper now, without you adding that woolly water- proof to my discomfort." I6 page: 182-183[View Page 182-183]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 182-183 l828 . THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. I expected some such rebuff at first, and well knew how to meet it. So, after a little judicious coaxing, I persuaded her to suffer the obnoxious wrapping in a minor degree, which she did, rather reluctantly however; but when Aunt Edgerton appeared, cloaked from head to foot, the forlorn aspect of- her sister reconciled her somewhat to her own disagreeable state. Yet she could not refrain from muttering to herself as we were slowly walking back to the cottage: "It 's the last time, you see if it ain't!" We encountered scores in like unbecoming plight, going to or returning from the baths, and no one could -possibly suppose that they would bloom out queens of fashion, wit and beauty, when the day was gone, and night came again with its music, dance and song, and its gorgeous array of bewildering toilets. Miss Jennie Richton's glowing prediction of a "perfect avalanche of new arrivals" proved quite correct in the main. With many others, I stood leaning over the railing of the veranda when the hotel-coaches drove up- three huge affairs, and each crowded to its utmost capacity - and there really was something curiously fascinating in wit- nessing the alighting of the cross and fatigued passengers to a'composed looker-on. - I remembered the night of my own arrival, and how vexed I felt at the multitude staring down upon me from the bal- conies, all dust-begrimed and tired as I was. But still, I could not withstand the temptation to" see who had come," although I did not know a single soul ofthem. Miss Rich- :ton had managed, to get near me, her admiration for stupid people probably lending a charmn to my society, and her lively exclamations were entertaining and frequent. She knew everybody and was anxious that I should also. Ass I live, there is Judge Sunderland and his daughter! She was a great belle at-Richmond last winter. You will see her in full feather to-morrow evening. Those are her trunks, THE HEMLOCK- SWAMP. I83 I know the initials --one, two, three -why, there are only seven; she can't be going to stay long, for her- usual number is nine at the least. Last season she tried to out-dress me, really! You should have seen mamma exert herself. Miss Sunderland'g defeat was speedy and complete, I assure you." Miss Jennie saved me the trouble of a reply by talking so fast herself that I could not have done so, had I made the attempt. "And there is Julian Aiderson - the gentleman to the right. in the linen ,duster. How fortunate! He was- the partner par excellence last summer. Waltzes deliciously, and- never tramples on your gown. He is a fine baritone also, sings exquisitely, and -oh, there is Governor Bell!"- . Miss Jennie was noted for the irrelevancy of her conversa. tion, and on this occasion she acquitted herself wells - - his wife is such a guy, and those four daughters of theirs are so terribly plain that it is enough to set one's teeth on edge to even look at them. There they are - the four with the long necks and buff sunshades, perfect frights, and they will dress with such odious taste. And there-yes, it is General Hager! Do look, Miss Folger, isan't he grand?-and what a proud military bearing!" "A very noble-appearing man indeed, and every inch the soldier," said I, feeling called upon to say something eulogistic in reply. "He is a widower-but not wealthy-mark that, Miss Eveleeti, soldiers never are; but, for' a flirtation he is safe, and will be theKoin of the Springs while he remains. Quite a hero, too,- wounded twice during the war. How lucky that he is not lame. I hate a limp. It is poetic, of course; but an arm gone is much better than a leg, to my mind. One can wear a cloak, and it will be more graceful and interesting than otherwise; but a leg off, there is no concealing that, and you can't make it either graceful or interesting." While she was speaking, GeneraI Hager strode off, uncon- ' - " -.. , , r page: 184-185[View Page 184-185]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 184-185 I84 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. scions of the comments he was exciting from the fair critic above. And Miss Richton was forced to select a new vic- tim on whom to vent her love of gossip, praise and censure being about an evenly divided thing with her. And she was not long in finding an object on which to display her knowledge of the world -the polite world in the centre of which Miss Richton moved. "Now there is a countenance I ought to know. I declare if it is-not the Honorable Henry Clare and his bride. My! how she has faded, or is it only the dust? A match of last season, entirely a- love infatuation, for she was poor and un- pretending. We ladies thought her plain, but the gentlemen were all raving about -her -she did have beautiful hair and eyes, there's no denying that, and, lo and behold! the de- mure creature quietly carried off the Honorable Henry Clare, the best partie of the season by all odds." "So much for having beautiful hair and eyes," I laughed. "Yes, some people are born lucky. Mrs. Henry Clare is one of them. But here are the Babbington 'party, and the Argiles and the Fletchers, that is Arabella with the red nose,-and that old gentleman just getting down is a Charleston banker. He always has the gout, and is always coming here to cure it." "And who may that tall lady be? She seems delicate and not a disciple of pleasure. In quest of health, I pre- sumea?," , - ' Most'likely. She is a Mrs. Hastings from Florida, very benevolent and all that. A sort of perpetual invalid, who would not look well and strong if she could, and who goes about doing good in a last year bonnet and cotton gloves. The lady you see standing beside her is a Kentucky enchan- tress. Her diamonds are worth a fortune, and her lace - goodness! I know of but one person in the world who can boast a finer collection, and that person is my own mamma. She aspires to being a connoisseur of the flimsy article, and THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. i85 she would die of envy if she thought herself superseded by Mrs. Reeves:" "A very sad state of affairs. I sincerely hope Mrs. Reeves has not a finer collection." 'Ah, Miss Folger, now you are quizzing, but it is one of mamma's foibles. She has yards and yards of it, picked up all over Europe wherever a choice bit could be pur- chased, and the greater part of it istof matchless beauty and rarity." From discussing lace and Mrs. Reeves she jumped to another subject with her accustomed ease and vivacity. I do believe all the world are coming to-night, if they are not already here," she cried, peering down to get a closer view of what was passing below. "But the last is not always least, for the gentleman who seems the last to alight is decidedly of an exgaging appearance. I wonder who he can be, - quite a stranger to me, - and*I know all the old habitues. A person of culture, I should say. That must be his valet on the box, for he is instructing him where to take the luggage." I listened indifferently, a little wearied by my companion's surprising volubility, and gave only a cursory glance at the individual alluded to. He was standing immediately below us, in such a position that I could not get a full view of his features, but in form he wastall and slender, and his voice, when addressing his servant, was low and evenly accen- tuated. "A gentleman to the manor born, I told you so!" cried Miss Richton, triumphantly. "I am never mistaken in a voice, and the one we have just heard is liquid music, if you know what that is." I "I have no knowledge whatever of ' liquid music,' but I dare say this stranger is of good family, arid will soon be one of your most devoted admirers," said I. "How ridiculous!: I did not know you were a flatterer, i6* page: 186-187[View Page 186-187]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 186-187 l86 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. Eveleen - I may call you Eveleen, may I not? it is such a pretty name." Permission being granted, her bright eyes went down to the flags again, and then up to mine, sparkling this time with genuine surprise at the delightful discovery they had made. , "'Sir Atherton Doane, England,' that sounds well, al- though I do not like to see one's full mane on one's lug- gage. It looks like an advertisement, and is forever staring you out of countenance." I read the plainly lettered name with little interest. Sir Atherton Doane of England Hcared nothing for. Miss Jennie, on the contrary, was full of newly awakened curi- osity, and broke forth again ih a tone of great sympathy, which speedily merged 'into that of worldliness and silly speculation. "Poor fellow, h'ow delicate he looks! consumption, no doubt. I hope he dances well. The English are generally so clumsy. The best of them spoil a toilet in twenty minutes'. But let him be sad or gay, you may depend, Eveleen, he will be the fashion. We had a Sir Somebody here last summer - I have forgotten his name; and such a lion as they made of him! To be sure, he went off without paying his hotel bill - papa always insisted that he was a scoundrel--an accomplished villain, and wasn't that shock- ing when we had all danced with him? But he really was of good family-- impoverished, you know, and that made him a fortune-hunter, and what papa called a worthless reprobate." "And with reason, I should judge. Good blood does not pass current in lieu of money in any country on the face of the globe. Blue blood cannot offset or even rival yellow gold,"} said I., "No, indeed; and plenty of yellow gold will buy the proudest blue blood that ever flowed in patrician veins; and .... j - THE HEMLOCK SWA MP. -87 there is a bit of philosophy for you. But I must leave you, if you will not return to the ballroom with me. I have promised Hervy Wilbur to go through the lancers with him, and he will think that I am evading duty." With that, Miss Richton swept away to the disconsolate Mr. Wilbur, leaving me alone on the veranda. Everybody had gone back to their several pleasures, and I had the quiet of the summer night all to myself. CHAPTER XXIII. % WHAT SHALL I DO? THE full moon shed a subdued light over the adjacent grounds, arid gave a softened and .pensive aspect to surrounding objects. The dew-laden leaves glistened like polished silver, and beneath the long avenue of stately old oaks figures singly or in couples were slowly pacing to and fro. Happy lovers wandering arm in arm under the silent trees, now and again emerging into the moonlight, only to reverse their steps and disappear, like spirit forms within the shadows, where Cupid must have held high revel and, used his arrows with fatal precision. And while I gazed with dreamy eyes and preoccupied thoughts'across the green of the lawn, the sheen of the trees and the calm of the moon-lighted hills, solitary beings were seen walking like faithful sentinels up and down some favorite path, the fragrance of a choice partaga mingling not unpleasantly withlthe cool, earthy night atmosphere, and the cheery glow that came and receded as steadily -as a revolving beacon-light, I knew emanated from some well-enjoyed cigar. No parlor gayeties, no ballroom triumphs for these devotees of the weed. Give them air and space, and a lucifer, and they are;Bpy.. "' " page: 188-189[View Page 188-189]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 188-189 188 T HE HEMLOCK SWAMP. A shadow passed between me and the moonlight, the sub- stance of which must have been on the veranda behind me, The reflection was nothing uncommon in a place where so many people were congregated; nevertheless it startled me, andi, before I had -looked around to question the cause, I felt myself shuddering as if a sudden chill had seized me. s, Merciful heaven!" the affrighted exclamation escaped me in a voice scarcely louder than a whisper, and I staggered back as if a blow had been dealt me. A dizzy blindness stole over my sight, and it was only by a mighty effort that I kept myself from fainting. But I rallied after a moment sufficiently to retain my senses, and shrank behind the col- umn, near which I Was luckily standing, until the object of my terror should pass. Simon Post. I knew him instantly; not so much by ocu- lar perception, as I did by the involuntary horror that seemed to freeze my very blood. Had I been blind, I think I would have known that-presence. And this was the aristocratic stranger whom Miss Richton had voted to the manor born, and whose luggage was so ostentatiously marked "Sir Atherton Doane, England." Aye, indeed, Sir Atherton Doane! He passed within an arm's-length of me, and I saw his face plainly; ,and had it not been for the instinctive power of divination, I am 'certain I should never have recognized him, so complete was' his disguise. There was something familiar about his languid manner of walking, and slow, deliberate movements, but that was all. In dress he was unexceptionable, and his appearance was that, of a thoroughly refined and self-possessed man of the world. Simon, even when a boy at home on the farm, never exhibited the bashful traits generally attributed to country- bred youths, and the cold reserve and polished composure ofhis bearing was quite natural to him. By some wonderful transformation his once blonde hair was now black; so was THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. I89 the slight moustache that becomingly shaded his firm upper lip, and his features looked thin and pale - very thin and pale in contrast. He was followed at a respectful distance by his valet, and- when he turned .to give him some low-uttered instruc- tion, I saw that the one ungloved hand hanging listlessly at his side was white and fragile, and might have been mis- taken for that of a delicate woman. The valet disappeared, and when he was gone, "Sir Atherton " walked to the rail- ing and gazed wistfully over the unfamiliar landscape. Beautiful and tranquil as it was, it did not seem to please him, for he sighed, a deep, troubled, indrawn breath that was clearly audible, and began to pull on his glove, as if the act was purely mechanical, and his fingers must be busy at something. The return of the valet put an end to his clouded reflec-- tions, of whatsoever nature they might be, and he said, in a low tone, as if replying to some previous suggestion of the serving-man: . "Very good ; perhaps it is the better plan." And with- out more conversation, they went away-together. I stood spellbound, unable to move from the spot, and a hundred torturing and unanswerable questions rushed to my mind. What brought him to- this secluded place? Was he really sick, and was he here in hope of restoring his broken health, or was he in search of me? Had he not sworn to embitter my whole life, to mar its every pleasures;t. and was not Simon a man to keep, to the cruel utmost,- a. vow of the kind? And yet, on the other hand, he did look wretchedly ill, like a person dying of blighted hopes arid heart. But Sir Atherton Doane, that exalted deception told . against him, for'I knew itd had been assumed for- no good.: From a child upward he had always been ashamed of his, name, and now I remembered that Doane was the family name of his mother. The recollection gave me no small page: 190-191[View Page 190-191]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 190-191 190 TIIE HEMLOCK SWAMP. consolation,' for it might not be so dangerous an assumption as I had at first supposed. Probably- he had no thought of meeting me, anid, if so, I couldeasily avoid him. I could plead a slight indisposition, which would be a sufficient ex- cuse for remaining at the cottage and seeing no one. Aunt Marcia had'registered simply '"Mrs. Edgerton, sister, and niece." How providential! ShouWl he look over the list of arrivals ever so carefully -and Simon, Post was just the man to do it with circumspect consideration - it would tell him nothing. - How I got back to- the cottage I do not know. I only remember seeing Aunt Eunice sit dozing by the fire, for the evenings were a little chilly in that high latitude, with her dress turned back from the heat and her knitting-work lying idle in her lap. I stopped beside her chair long enough to kiss her and say good-night, and then went to my room, there -to think, and ponder, and dread--my mind a wild chaos- of doubt and perplexity, and all the old-time fear and secrecy upon me again. -And the worst. of it all was the knowledge, that, whatsoever the evil and revengefulness of his nature, Simon loved me.. There was no uncertainty about that-I only wish to heaven there had been; it would have lifted a load from my conscience, and given me cour- age- to face him boldly. I could but grant that, in one respect at least, he was truth- ful, earnest, and faithful; and what woman living, possessed , of true womanly feeling, who had inspired a sentiment so deep and; lasting, even though it be. in the breast of a savage, would not have pitied and deplored it? I had "influenced ; every act of his life," How vividly I recalled the look and i tone in which he said it, and the memory of which will haunt me to my dying day. ' All the weary lonesome night I paced the floor alone, up and down, to and fro, no rest no quiet, while the lonely hours dragged on, and the moon and stars faded wanly-from THE HEMLOCK SWAMP'. 9gI the skv. Darkness and inactivity was unbearable, and it seemed as if I must keep moving in order to retain my- senses. I tried to reason calmly; I asked myself, I asked of. Heaven the piteous question, What shall I do? Direct me- Father above, and guide my confused and troubled thoughts aright. I whispered the prayer over and over again, and. the night and the silence grew less terrible, for God's watch- ful love and care never deserts the most sorely tried heart. I greeted with joy the first glimmer of daylight, and in the damp and chill of the gray dawn I stole out to get a breath of the fresh mountain air, and, if possible, walk myself into a less despondent mood. I had not gone far before I en- countered the ebony visage of Uncle Snow, a pious old negro who was blessed with the simplicity of a child and the re-- ligious zeal of a Wesley. Seeing the old negro, who, to use his own phraseology, did "a heap of potterin about the place,-"I bade him good morning as cheerfully as I could.. Uncle Snow was the most loquacious of his race, and he returned my salutation at more length than I could have wished had I been in a hurry. "Good mornin', Miss Eva, you is up arly, sartan, Reckoned I's de only one astir, but I's mistaken once for shuah, and we's not de arlest folks up nedder.} Dat ar mighty fine gemman what come in de coach last night, he's up too, an' he appars awful pale an' down-hearted. It's his liber, an' da is a mighty bad ting when da gits a-workilt wron', libers am. Heaps of peoples comes to de Springs for dar bad liber. Saffron ain't no yalle:er dan da be, an' da's feeble as-" " "A fine gentleman! You don't mean the one who came with a valet--a-a very distinguished gentleman?" said I, ruthlessly cutting short Uncle Snow's diagnosis of the liver; ' I means the furrili gemman, Miss Eva; I hearn 'em say he was a-bagonet.-" "A baronet,-you mean, Uncle Snow" - page: 192-193[View Page 192-193]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 192-193 t92 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. "Well, it's all de same. I's no ban' at de 'big words." "Never mind, you make yourself quite as well understood without them. And you say you met this foreign gentleman walking out even earlier than you did me?" "Yes, an a-wanderin' about as if he was lost, jis draggin' on step by step like he didn't know or care whar he was a-gwine. It mus' be his liber, 'cause-" "Did you speak to him, Uncle Snow?" "I'm but an old no-account black man, but I speaks to everybody, an' da pretty much all speaks to me." "Then you spoke to him?" "I said, ' Good mornin', your sarvant, sir;' an' he gave a start, an' looked-aroun' scared-like, and never answered a word. I's shuah his liber is,-" "Baronets are not plenty in this part of the country, are they, Uncle Snow?" "Sartan not, Miss Eva; but when da do come, da does take amazin' an dar is no pleasin' of 'em. Now dis gemman what comes las! night, he's onsatisfied wid his lodgment at da hotel, said he mus' have quiet and repose, an' so da fixes him in oine of de berry bes cottages in Bachelor's Row, an' all jis 'cause he happins to be a bagonet from furrin parsi " I had heard quite enough; with a parting bow to Uncle Snow, I hastily-retraced my steps to the cottage. Through meeting the simple old. negro I had made the fortunate dis- covery that, early or late, at noon or midnight, there was always danger of encountering Simon Post, should I venture out. I felt convinced, after what I had heard, that he knew nothing of my presence at the Springs, and to keep him in ignorance was now my sole object. And to this end I aban- doned my daily walks, the baths, and the ballroom - every place, in- fact, where there was the slightest chance of meet- ing him. And during my self-imposed seclusion, Simon was being lionized as a bit of imported nobility of the purest origin; and I will do him the justice to say, that he bore D -THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. I93 himself like one born to the rank which he audaciously as- sumed. And then he could be so kind and gracious when he chose. He was so tenderly mindful of the comforts of rich invalids, moneyed old gentlemen of gouty proclivities, and jaundiced individuals who were known to have a large bank account. And who but Sir Atherton Doane should be esteemed the very best catch of the season? Did he not dance well? was he not titled and possessed of unbounded wealth? Shrewd mammas with marriageable daughters eagerly sought his society, and were overjoyed to see the slender waist of their darling encircled by Sir Atherton's aristocratic arm; and, in the whirl of the iwaltz, a dizzy, little, foolish head reclined trustingly on his breast, and little clinging fingers reposed in that cold, white palm of thine, Sir Atherton, icily cold as your heart, where never the image of but one woman was graven, and to 'hom the dainty beauty you held in your languid embrace w. s no more than a pretty plaything, that you would toss aside as soon as its prettiness became familiar and you were weary of it. All the "s best people " courted, and flattered, and admired Sir Atherton Doane, and those whom he honored by his company were persons to be envied and disliked because of that honor. The sacred few revelled in this envy, and the presence of Sir Atherton's card on your dressing-table was a thing to be proud of for many days. And I alone knew of the devil hidden within him. I alone-knew of the dark, false soul covered by that cold, passionless exterior, and masked by that pale, calm face. 17 N * v , . .^ page: 194-195[View Page 194-195]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 194-195 I94 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. CHAPTER XXIV. MRS. CRAIG RICHTON. RS. CRAIG RICHTO'T professed to be the best dressed woman at the White Sulphur Springs. What she suffered in the purchasing and making up of her exqui- site toilets no mortal ever knew. Her conflicts with dry- goods clerks and dressmakers and milliners must have been frequent and agonizing, but she endured it all with martyr- like patience and persistency. And, to my mind, if ever a human creature deserved the enviable distinction of being called the best dressed woman at a fashionable summer resort, this lady did; and I cheerfully accord it to her out of diffidence to the time-honored prin- ciple that what one strives for with all one's might, should be unreservedly awarded them. Persevere, says the pro- verb, and you will succeed. Mrs. Craig Richton persevered and she achieved her 'object.. She was the best dressed woman at the Virginia spas that season. It was her single ambition to dress- younger, look- younger, and be thought younger than- her daughter. If you wished to win the un- dying affection of Mrs. Richton, it was. only necessary for you to say, with the proper start of astonishment, {'Your daughter! really, how stupid of me! -I thought you were sisters." After that you were sure of her lasting friendship She dressed four times a day, and rarely wore the same cos- tume twice, and her bonnets and gloves and fans, and para- sols and slippers, were as varied as her dresses. If she had one idol more than another, it was lace. Some women ex- pend their particular idolatry on jewels, but Mrs. Craig Richton's specialty was lace. As her daughter said, she had yards and yards of it of every kind and quality. One even- ing-dress alone, which cost the poor soul hours of brain- THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 195 racking thought to invent, was adorned with two hundred Iyards of valenciennes- actually two hundred yards, and not an tfich less. There was no end to the ruffles and puffs aind edgings, and when fairly afloat in the billowy stuff, Mrs. Richton resembled a cask half-submerged in a foam-crested whirlpool. When Mrs. Craig Richton comes within the solemn min- istrations of the undertaker, it is to be hoped that he will surround her with'a cloud of old Flemish point. May she be wrapped in fold upon fold of the costhest Brussels and the. rarest p^pliftue, and white satin flutings and fringes without stint, that she may have the exalted reputation of being the best buried woman of the -period; and may he be instructed to take particular pains with her coiffure,' and see to it that her frizzes are evenly arranged, and that no unruly gray hairs creep down on her temples. And, if the thing be possible, let her. have at least three distinct death toilets, and invite her thousand and one dear friends to come and see her as she lies, all elegance and "style," in her coffin- casket, I mean. Mrs. Richton, either in or out of the flesh, would never G submit to anything so old-fashioned as a coffin. Let it be said of her, Never was there a corpse so splen- didly;arrayed for burial; never was there a funeral con- ducted with'such pomp and lavish display of plumes and N carriages, and fashionable followers ; for nothing less would reconcile her to the disagreeable business of dying. A woman whose whole life has bean spent in striving to outdo the grandeur of the queen of Sheba, ought to be interred with unusual distinction. -If Mrs. Richton thought of death at all, it was only in a critical sense,-and to wonder if the higher class of angels wore their gowns goffered, or tucked, or simply plain like the lower class, and if their wings were becoming at select evening parties. She strongly objected to that peculiar style page: 196-197[View Page 196-197]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 196-197 I96 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. of angelic negZihg in which seraphims are commonly chiselled by sculptors and painted by idealizing artists. Such strik- ingly brief draperies-were not to-her fancy, and not at all suitable, she felt, assured, for either earthly or heavenly wear. Mr. Craig Richton was a very wealthy man. He had made a large fortune in coal somewhere in the vicinity of Scranton, but there was nothing of the bituminous or anthracite about - him personally. On the contrary, he was an extremely neat and unassuming old gentleman, and in business circles his name was of considerable weight; but in society he was merely Mrs; Craig Richton's husband, a very insignificant being indeed. He was thought to be full twenty years older than his wife - thanks to that, lady's knowledge of art such as is confined exclusively to the mysteries of the toilet - when in truth she was only two years his junior. But his wife--indefatigable and relentless in her fight with Time, and which she generally got the better of--at night, when elaborattly beflounced and'bepowdered, and ready for the ball-room, was a creature to overawe any man, especially if that man be her life-partner. Mrs. Craig Richton had a magnificent set of diamonds, imported expressly for her by Ball & Black, and Miss Jennie Richton had a magnificent set of pearls obtained from the 'same reliable house; and when attired for conquest, mother and daughter, they where dazzling to behold - the mother weak, vain, and worldly; the daughter silly, good-natured, and superficial. Aye, a wonderful thing is Scranton coal! What matters it how many poor miners are buried alive, blown up by fire- damp, or suffocated by deadly gases in the illy ventilated mines and dangerously constructed shafts. Let them toil arid swelter and die, hundreds of feet below the bright sun- shine and healthful air of the green, glad earth. They are fitted for'no higher sphere; and the Mrs. Craig .Richtons THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. i97 must dress and trail their silks and laces and velvets in lavish magnificence; until they go down to that' lowly level where the mine-owner is no better than the mine-worker; and both lie equal in their narrow limit of common earth. CHAPTER XXV. A DANGEROUS RIDE. Y continued " indisposition " greatly alarmed Aunt Marcia; and to divert my thoughts and arouse my depressed spirits, as I overheard her telling a friend in a voice of confidential anxiety, she planned an expedition to the "Old Sweet," as it is familiarly called,--a chalybeate spring half a day's journey from the White Sulphur; and I eagerly seconded the proposition. Aunt Eunice declined to accompany us, declaring that a ride'of seventeen miles over the mountainis was too much for her old bones. But Mrs. Richton and her daughter were to be of the party, and, -al- together, the trip promised to be a very enjoyable one. The happy anticipation of having a whole day of freedom at my disposal -freedom from the task of watching, or the fear of being watched --elated my spirits wonderfully, and I -was the gayest of the gay. The day fixed upon proved all that could be desired, and by six o'clock we were fairly on our way. Our party of nine were comfortably disposed of in two roomy carriages. Miss Jennie Richton, Henry Wilbur, her latest victim, Captain-. Dudley, a dashing young officer, scatheless of heart and winning of tongue, Miss Angelina Cliff, a maiden of uncertain years, who looked unutterable things at Captain Dudley, and myself, occupied the first; and Aunt Marcia, Mrs. Richton, Spencer Travis, a corpu- 17 - page: 198-199[View Page 198-199]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 198-199 198 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. leLt Louisiana planter, and Dr. Meeker, a whimsical old Baltimore practitioner, the last carriage. We were some hours earlier in starting than the lumbering old stage-coach, which daily traversed the tedious road lying between the two famous springs. And I was very glad to have it so, for there, on the mountain height, in the first flush of the roset dawn, it seemed as if all the sin and sorrow and unchari- tableness of existence were shut away forever below the green summit of the Alleghanies, leaving with us only pure and peaceful thoughts, and forgiveness towards those who have wronged us. And we feel a new strange love stirring in our hearts for the gracious Father, who giveth us of His beauty and infinite greatness no end, and brings His restful heaven very near in the magnitude and infinity of His works. It was indeed a glorious morning. One may live to be old and travel far, and never again behold another so perfectly bright and lovely -such a scene of stupendous grandeur - 'such a broad magnificence of earth and sky'! The grass and leaves misty with tremulous dewdrops, the cool, fresh fra- grance of the bracing atmosphere, a slight, 'vaporous fog curling away from the blue mountain tops, -and. the crimson and gold of sunrise slowly unfolding in the East, made it a moment of surpassing sublimity, the memory of which I have with me yet. After leaving Dry Creek, a pretty little settlement a mile from the hotel grounds,-we commenced the long ascent of the mountains, the still loneliness of the way broken at, intervals by a log cabin, -rude as those of our fore- fathers of a hundred years ago. Half a dozen scantily dressed, sun-burnt children crowd to the narrow door- way; eagerly curious child-eyes peer at us in admiring wonder; a woolly head pops up from behind a screening bush, or the clay-plastered corner of the cabin; and a brace of lean, hungry hounds- run whimpering to the low brush fence and look after us wistfully, as if in hope of obtaining a s P ./ THE 'HEMLOCK SWAMP.. 199 stray bone, or, at least, a friendly whistle. Then on beyond the staring baby faces, the woolly he-tds and hungry dogs, and the primitive cabin into the silent forest waste. - The tortuous road is girt on either side by splendid trees of oak, maple, pine, ash, and sycamore, and through the density of stately verdure you hear the tinkle of a distant cow-bell. Sounds are rare in this solitude, and you note them all. The whir of a startled bird stirs the foliage for a moment; the plaintive gurgle of a brook, deep hidden in the mossy shade near at hand, tumbles along over the stones, mirroring as it passes huge clusters of hawthorn, and. delicate ivy and laurels. Now we come to the dry bed of a stream squarely crossing the road before us; then a wide, shallow brook presents itself, and we plunge through that, scaring in- numerable young troutlets out of their fishy senses; and on again until we reach a little spring by the roadside, where we all alight and refresh ourselves by drinking of the de- liciously cold and sparkling water. The spring is very alluring, but we cannot linger, for the sun is climbing higher every moment, and his vertical rays are to be avoided if we would escape a coup de soleil; so we resume our seats in the carriage, and in a short time we arrive at Crawford's---a quaint old Virginian inn, seven miles up the mountain, where we partake of coffee served in the long, low dining-hall, where had echoed the voices and footsteps of some of the best and the bravest in the proud old days when Virginia led the van' of all the States. Crawford's used to be a famous place, and visitors at the White Sulphur were in the habit of driving over to breakfast with the jovial host, who owned a- pair of the finest. deer- hounds and the truest rifle of any man in that region of fine- deerhounds and true rifles. And the breakfast was wont to be served with rare artistic skill, -graced by the sweetest butter, the freshest eggs, the purest milk, the most fragrant coffee, and the juiciest venison steaks; but deith, and the poverty page: 200-201[View Page 200-201]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 200-201 200) - THE HEM'LOCK SWAMP. ever following in the track of waj's desolation, have been there, and the old place is cheerless and fallen into decay. The once beautiful garden is rank with weeds, and sombrous with its own neglected flowers and unkept vines; a sense of sadness and- ruin pervades every nook, and 4it is as if a grave were at the foot of each-leafy shrub, and its ungathered blos- soms were drifting down on the buried heads of a shattered household. I think we were all glad to leave the dreary old mansion and betake ourselves to the carriage. It was better than a ghostly contemplation of the lonesome surroundings of Crawford's. "We must not fail to visit Beaver Dam Falls. It is but a little distance put of our way, and you would miss a great treat not to see them, Eveleen,: said Miss Richton, ad- dressing herself to me. I had never heard of Beaver Dam Falls before, and I at ontceexpressed a desire to see the wonderful 'waterfall. Shortly after, we left the highwmay and drove through afield and a small portion of woodland in order to get a look at the cataract. Miss Jennie sprang gaily from the carriage, quite ignoring the proffered assistance of Mr. Wilbur, and I followed her almost as blithe of spirits as she, with Miss Cliff bringing up the rear in a state of poetic rapture, that was entirely lost on the impervious Captain Dudley. Cataracts are, I believe, productive of sentimental emotions, and I grew a little senti- mental myself in consequence. The water, thundering its anger from the heights above, dashes down a bank of worn land fissured rocks in a mad, roaring torrent, and the view from the base I thought indescribably wild and majestic. Numerous trees, half uprooted by the ceaseless force of the water, seemed to be clinging in, very desperation to the piti- ;less rocks, their naked roots, like humanfingers, grasping at- the frailest support, as if to stay their fall in the seething flood. The dark, overhanging wood, the lichen-grown stones, THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 201 and the mistily rising spray, gave a strangely weird gloom to the spot. We made the 'descent in single file, Miss Jennie leading the way, with her dress daintily gathered up by two prettily gloved hands, to keep it from coming in contact' with the slippery dampness of the path, and Miss Cliff eying with envy her charming French boots and the bird-like grace of her movements. "How beautiful i" cried Miss Cliff, establishing herself on the most comfortable rock she could find, and fully pre- pared to do the ecstatic to any extent. "Glorious!" responded Miss Jennie; '" but your skirts are bedraggled, Angelina, and I think Captain Dudley is aware of it." "Heavens,. how unfortunate! but I never can take the care of my skirts that you do without- without blushing!" was Angelin-a's tart reply. "No, that you can't. Your boots are two sizes too large. - I don't wonder at your blushing," retorted Miss Richton, cruelly misapprehending her friend's meaning. . Some beautiful ferns and mosses were growing on a ledge in the very thick of the spray, and these Mr. Wilbur must have, even at the risk of a disagreeable wetting. Fearless as a water-god, this self-immolating young man approached the ledge, aid after several narrow escapes from a -severe ducking and perhaps worse consequences, he succeeded in obtaining the prize he had periled so much to gain. And for what? merely to hand the ferns and mosses over to Miss ' Richton, and receive a careless, "Thanks, Mr. Wilbur," in return. Poor infatuated Mr. Wilbur! Having scrambled down the bank and duly expatiated on the mightiness and marvellous beauty-of the falls, all we had to do was to turn * Iround and scramble up again, our proudest trophies but a bit of tangled ferns and wet mosses, that looked far prettier :rowing .crisp and green in the moist crannies of their birth- place than'they did tied up in crushed little knots to wilt and die ere they had been an hour gathered. page: 202-203[View Page 202-203]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 202-203 202 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. Just as we were"nearing the highway on our return from the Falls, a cload of dust heralded the approach of the stage, and we drew up to let it pass. "Bless me, if there is not Sir Atherton on the box, travel- ling like a true Briton, and looking the veritable image of silence!" exclaimed Miss Richton, leaning out to get a bet- ter view of the stage and its dusty occupants. I hastily drew down my veil and shrank back in the corner of the carriage as far as I could. Miss Cliff noticed the hasty action - Jennie was too full of Sir Atherton to notice anybody else, and opened her eyes in well-bred surprise. "I have a mortal antipathy to dust," said I, by way of apology, " and that wretched old stage has brought it upon us in suffocating quantities." Miss Cliff's gray eyes resumed their ordinary expression, and Iwas left to my own reflections, which were by no means of a pleasing character. Dear me, what a provoking creature Sir Atherton is! I was telling him last night all about our purposed trip to-day, and he never so much as hinted- that he was going. I wish he had, and I would have offered him a, seat in our carriage," continued Miss Richton, in a disappointed tone, which dis- appointment Mr. Wilbur did not in the least -share. Sir Atherton politely'lifted his hat, and Miss Richton smiled and bowed warmly in acknowledgment of the courtesy--so warmly, that Mr. Wilbur saw fit to sulk for a good quarter of an hour afterward, and privately wish that all manner of evil things might befall the detested Sir Atherton before he again set foot on level earth. The' stage with its four smoking horses rattled on, and was soon out of sight, bearing with it the one who had done so much to darken my youth and destroy my peace of mind. My pleasure for the day was gone, but I kept my feelings well under control -it was no new experience-and laughed and talked, armd said civil things without number. It would 1 m THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 203 not do to appear odd or low-spirited on such a gala occasion, so I replied to Miss Jennie's lively nothings, and 'Captain Dudley's witty badinage, and Miss Cliff's romantic soarings, with befitting brilliancy and all quite as naturally as if I were the happiest being in the world. I have a very confused recollection of what took place at the I'Old Sweet." I know we dined there, and visited the Springs and the Baths, and strolled about the grounds, but it was all like an imperfectly understodd dream; I was liv- ing again among my old hunting shadows, and how could it be otherwise when I knew Simon Post was near me. It was almost sunset when we started on our homeward journey. We had not gone far when a light pleasure-wagon -one of those rakish, high-seated vehicles which look speedy in themselves -drawn by a superb pair of grays, spun along by us at a flying gait. They were driven by a large, powerfully built, elderly man, who bowed to Captain Dudley as he passed, and for the rest seemed to be completely ab- sorbed in noting the splendid,action of his II goers." ' "That is Judge Hazelton, the wealthy New Yorker, and an excellent pair of steppers he has there, too; they can go over the ground handsomely when he cares to let them out," said Captain Dudley, his eyes kindling at sight of the grays more ardently than ever the charms of Miss Cliff could induce them to sparkle. "Yes, beautiful creatures and perfectly matched. I've seldom seen a finer team," replied Mr. Wilbur, cordially endorsing the Captain's praise. "But I reckon he 'll soon fetch 'em in, or there 'll be a smash-up," remarked Jacobs, our freckled-faced, shock- headed driver, in a respectful tone from the box. 4, If them are horses go around Slate Creek Ledge at that rate, there's a breakdown afore us as sure as you lives." i "Oh, Hazelton is a thorough whip. Trust him for know- ing where to give them head and where' not to," replied Dudley. page: 204-205[View Page 204-205]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 204-205 204 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP, "Well, for his own sake, sir, I hope he is; but it's one thing to drive in Central Park and another to drive. here. These mountain roads ain't much to brag of, and if that shell of a wagon should go over the ledge - Lord, sir,.there 'd not be so much left of it as a splinteir," said Jacobs, gravely shaking his head and thereby expressing his doubts of Mr. Hazelton's proficiency in mountain horsemanship. We had- counted on having a fine evening, without which our return would be neither safe nor pleasant, but we were disappointed, for the sky in the track of the setting sun grew dark and threatening, and the dusk fell rapidly. A great bank of sullen, black, forbidding clouds hung lowering in the west, through which the lightning quivered like rivulets of liquid fire, and low reverberations of distant-thunder echoed dismally among the hills. - To be overtaken by a storm in the mountains, far remote from any dwelling or place of shelter, encompassed by a wind-swept forest and swift approaching darkness, is certainly one of the most appalling situations a person can be placed in. Not one of us but was conscious of a strange, awe-struck fear, altogether different from that which a common danger inspires. This warring of the atmospheric elements, wit- nessed from so vast an elevation, is the most grand a-d ter- rible spectacle the mind can conceive, and we watched the blackening- firmament and listened for the first sound of the coming strife in apprehensive silence. Jacobs was putting the horses to their best pace, that he might reach a less ex- posed part of the road before the storm should be upon us in all its wild,-fierce fury. On gaining the summit of a Steep, stony hill, we overtook Mr. Hazelton, who had stopped and was standing at his horses' heads. ' What's the matter, Judge? anything wrong?" called out Captain Dudley. y j "Oh, no. I'm only unclhecking. It is my practice to '*" " - ^ *-2 THE HEMLOCK- SWAMP. 205 always give a horse his head for a piece of dangerous down- hill work like this. They know a deuced sight more than we do, and I'd rather trust to Gray Denmark's animal in- stinct to-night than to my own reason. It is going to be as dark as Erebus, and that -is a confoundedly unpleasant cloud over there; but it is more wind than rain, I fancy, and we shall soon have it blowing a hurricane." ;"Uncheckin', did you say, sir? ' inquired the astonished Jacobs. "I 've been travellin' this ere road nigh on to ten years, and if that's the-way you takes it, I don't know nothin' about it; I 'd as quick think of givin' 'em free of the bit. It's a sure thing you are fixin' there, sir, a dead sure thing." "The devil it is! Why, you never drove a horse worthy of the name," brusquely replied the Judge. And having dis- posed of Jacobs, he turned to us. "We had better keep together, Dudley, and then we can be of assistance to each other if anything should happen. I trust the ladies are not frightened, because courage is the word now. "He spoke hurriedly, and did not wait for a reply, his manner plainly portraying his anxiety, and Judge Hazel; ton was not a man to evince anxiety without a cause. He sprang to his seat with the agility of youth, drew the lap- robe over his knees, gently touched the arched neck of Gray Denmark with his long, lithe whip, and vanished in the swift gathering darkness. The lightning became more vivid and blinding; the thunder rolled louder and nearer; the wind came in short, fitful gusts, and rocked the tree-tops to and fro in wild fan- tastic tossings, and shrieked like a mad thing around the corner of the huge overhanging boulders, that seemed to frown at us as we passed, and all the heavens, save when they were rent by the lightning-flashes, appeared like one great mass of pitchy blackness. ' This is fearful, " shivered Miss Richton, in a terrified whis- I8 - page: 206-207[View Page 206-207]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 206-207 206 - THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. per. "I never supposed there could be such a sudden and frightful storm here or anywhere else." She submitted in her terror almost unknowingly to the tender support of Mr. Wilbur's arm, and Mr. Wilbur mentally blessed the storm, and wished it would continue for an indefinite length of time. He of all us frightened wretches was alone happy. "Yes, very, very dreadful," moaned Miss Cliff, in accord. "C I am sure we shall never live to see another day; oh, who could believe that so fair a morning would bring so dark a night? Let us try to be a comfort to each other in this solemn and awful moment, I hope--"A terrific clap of thunder, that shook the very earth and made the air tremble, put an end to what further she was about to say, and nearly deafened us. Another and another followed in rapid suc- cession, and flash after flash of lightning leaped along the edge of that vast battlement of clouds, rending it from top to bottom for one terrible instant, and darting from heaven to earth on its mighty mission of destruction, until the whole world -seemed ablaze, and our eyes were blinded by the dazzling, serpent-like chain of fire. Not one of us was capable of uttering a sound. Jacobs sat petrified on the box, but managed -to keep the horses to the -road, or else the horses managed to keep themselves there, I hardly know which, nor did Jacobs. Miss Cliff would fain have received from Captain Dudley the same thoughtful tenderness Mr. Wilbur lavished so freely on her friend. The Captain, how- ever, failed to bestow this needful, and, under the circum- stances, entirely proper sympathy, which conduct /poor Angelina thought very cruel and heartless of him. I To- say that Aunt Edgerton and Mrs. Richton were terri- fied would but faintly express the- paralyzing extent of their fear. The driver of the second carriage was a careful and ex- perienced old African, born and " raised " in the mountain, THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 207 and accustomed to its sudden tempests, yet even he quailed and was almost as rigid and quite as uncertain of his move- ments as Jacobs. The horses, guided by that unerring instinct which Judge Hazelton trusted to so implicitly, fol- lowed close in our wake, with ears bent forward and wide alarmed eyes, but they kept their feet admirably, and trotted strong and steady up hill and down, splashing through swift running streams and clattering across slaty hollows, the sharp ring of their iron-shod hoofs drowned by the angry howl of the wind, and pursued by the storm-fiend that every moment loomed darker and fiercer about us. With all this tumultu- ous uproar of nature, only a few drops of rain fell, and those we did not heed, so great was our alarm at the furious raging - of the blast. A violent clap of thunder, louder, if such a thing could be, than any that had preceded it, was quickly followed by a startling flash. of lightning, that lit up the forest for miles around, and showed us Judge Hazelton sitting composedly in his wagon, which was drawn up under the protecting!brow of an enormous granite cliff, and afforded him a comparatively snug shelter from the violence of the storm. "I advise you to hold up awhile, Captain," said he, as soon as we were within speaking distance. "There is a mighty rough place a mile or so ahead that I don't care to drive over just now. I noticed this neat little plateau as I was riding along yesterday, and thought what a nice, cosy retreat it would be in an emergency of this sort, and so it has proved. Pull in close, driver; don't be afraid; the plateau is wide enough to accommodate us all." Jacobs immediately acted upon the Judge's sensible advice, and brought his nervous horses to a stand-still close along- side the quiet grays. The sorrel hacks were sniffed at dis- approvingly by the clean-limbed, mellow-eyed thorough- breds: they would have nothing to do with anything so plebeian. " 1'I page: 208-209[View Page 208-209]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 208-209 208 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. "I say, Jacobs, have n't you a lantern, or a light of some sort, about this old trap-?" asked Captain Dudley. 'If we only had a light we would not be so badly off. This is a capital idea of yours, Judge. I never should have thought of it. We are as safe as can be, let the storm rage ever so madly." Jacobs believed he had a candle somewhere among his possessions, and began fumbling in the box under the seat. But when. the candle was found, he discovered that both lamps had a broken panel, and were of no earthly use. By this time we had recovered our speech, and questions were asked and answered in rapid succession, although not without a certain quavering tremor of the voice and a linger- ing suspicion of hysterics, particularly from Mrs. Richton's carriage. "A driver who does not know his duty better than to be caught in such a predicament as this with broken lamps is not the kind I would take with me for mountain pleasuring, by a long odds. It looks bad for your ten years' driving in these parts, eh, Jacobs?" said the Judge, in a tone so sarcastic and condemning that poor Jacobs fairly writhed under it. "How about the storm, Mr. Hazelton; is there any sign of its abating yet?" asked Mrs. Edgerton, who knew the Judge well, he having been a warm friend of her husband during his lifetime. - "Oh, it will soon blow over. We shall have the moon out in half an hour. It is beginning to break away already; there is a star now twinkling as bright as a diamond right over your head,"- he answered cheerily. "Oh, thank heaven!" sighed Aunt Marcia, in a grate- ful tone, and all our hearts responded amen to the fervent prayer. - The storm receded as r pidly as it had advanced. The thunder growled itself silent among the far away peaks; the THE HEjMLOCK SWAMP. 209 lightning played faintly along the edge of the horizon; the exhausted clouds slowly separated, and a few feeble stars glimmered dimly where a pale line of light low down against the sky denoted the luminous coming of the moon. "Back out, Jacobs. I think we may venture to start," said Mr. Wilbur, the least scared of all the party, for which he had Miss Jennie's pretty waist to thank. "Safe enough now, is it not, Mr. Hazelton?" turning his head in the direction from whence the voice of the Judge proceeded, for it was still too dark to clearly distinguish features. "Oh; yes, quite safe, and getting lighter every moment. Who-a, there! Mr. Jacobs, be a little careful of the wheel. Shall I go ahead, Dudley?" "Certainly, the place of honor is yours, Judge; besides, if there is any plaguey holes to stumble into, you will be apt to find them first, and so save us the trouble of doing so. By all means, take the lead-we cheerfully concede it to you. Mr. Travis, please instruct your driver to get under way, for we are going to make things hum pretty soon." There was considerable backing and cramping of wheels before we were once more in motion and on our dangerous way again. The rough place to which the Judge alluded was a short, abrupt curve winding along the edge of a ravine, where the road was so narrow as to barely admit of the passage of a carriage, and the bank so precipitous as to endanger a fall of more than a hundred feet, should one be so unfortunate as to be thrown over it. One side of the way was thickly lined by a scraggy growth of pine and spruce, and on the - other frowned a steep, jagged declivity of broken rocks and gnarled old trees. Ad Hazelton disappeared around the bend some minutes in advance of us, and we were just turning the curve, un- , conscious, like him, of the peril ahead, when a blaze of light i: 18 - O A, page: 210-211[View Page 210-211]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 210-211 210 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. flashed across from the direction of the spruces, and the quick report of a rifle rang sharply out on the heavy air. 'Good God, what does that- mean?" cried Captain Dudley, springing excitedly to his feet; but he had no time for further utterance, for the next moment the rearing horses had plunged with us over the ledge. There was a loud crash, a- confused sound of mingled groans and shrieks, and piteous cries:for help, united with the frantic kicking of the strug- gling, maddened animals. The overturned carriage, with its load of bruised and bewildered humanity, luckily found a lodgment against' the friendly abutment of a huge rock, and there remained wedged fast between a moss-encrusted old boulder and a white scrub-oak. Mr. Hazelton, notwithstanding he had a bullet-hole through the right lapel of his coat, did not lose his presence of mind, nor the control of his horses. The now thoroughly frightened grays gave one convulsive backward jump, a snort of terror breaking from their distended nostrils, and wildly pawing the air with high uplifted feet. The firm hand of their owner soon quieted them, but not until one hind-wheel had collided with the crooked trunk of a cotton- wood tree, ahd the other lay a rod or two beyond it, high and dry on the bank. It was but the work of a second for him to leap from the wagon, unhook the traces, take his horses by the bit, and quickly lead them back to the scene of the greater catastrophe. Dr. Meeker and gouty Mr. Travis were out of their carriage in an instant, and when Mri. Hazelton came up, they were doing all they could to extri- cate us. ' The sudden lurch had thrown Jacobs from the box, clean over his horses' heads, and had he hot fortunately alighted in the top of a low, bushy cedar, from whence he leisurely tumbled, to the ground, he would: doubtless have been in- stantly killed. He was considerably scratched and not a little stunned, .but he scrambled to his feet in a trice, and ' . :, THE HEMLOCK SWAMP, .2" tugged with a will to get his fallen steeds on their legs again. The horses, entangled in the broken harness, wounded and trembling with fear and pain, were at last liberated and led limping up the bank' by the likewise trembling and limping Jacobs. "Are you all dead?" wailed Mrs. Richton, in accets of the deepest anguish ; " answer me, Jennie, if you are alive." The unhappily situated daughter could not withstand this pathetic appeal, and returned a choking cry of "I'm alive, mamma, but I am fast under the wheel; do help-me out, somebody, or I shall smother." We were finally dragged forth one after the other, just as we happened to come to hand, and a more miserable lot of beings it would be difficult to imagine. "I would like to see the infernal scoundrel who fired that shot. It was intended for you, Hazelton, and missed by a hair's breadth," said Captain Dudley, coolly wiping the blood from his face as it dripped from the cut on his forehead. "Are you badly hurt, Miss Richton?" "I am awfully shaken or crushed, or something," faltered Miss Jennie through her tears, "and Mr. Wilbur, H think he is dead." "No, I am not; but I have a broken leg, I believe. I,'ll be very much obliged, Mr. Travis, if you will help me up, for I fear I. am sitting on Miss Cliff," replied Mr. Wilbur, speaking for himself with great promptness and fluency. He was expeditiously assisted to rise, much to the relief of poor Miss Cliff, who had a fractured arm anl a cut nose, and was the most injured,-of any. "Are you seriously hurt, Eveleen? Oh, my dear, dear child, what a day this has been!" exclaimed Aunt Marcia, cathing me to her heart the moment she could get within reach of me. "No, dear aunty, that is, nothing to speak of. My ankle. *don't feel just right, and there is a bump on my head which page: 212-213[View Page 212-213]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 212-213 212 THE HEM LOCK SWAMP. is not exactly a phrenological development, since I do not recollect of having had it before the carriage went over the ledge. It was a narrow escape, and we can't be too thankful that it is not worse than it is. But see, Miss Cliff has fainted; oll, what can we do for her, Aunt Marcia?" At the time we were all assembled on the bank, trying to ascertain the extent of our injuries, the sudden swooning of Miss Cliff made me forget mine and endeavor to limp to her assistance. Captain Dudley, unmindful of his own wounds and bruises, held the unconscious girl in his arms, while Dr. Meeker, who never was known to be without a well- filled brandy-flask among his personal necessities, quickly administered a small quantity of the stimulant. She revived presently, moaning piteously and looking pale and wretched enough to arouse compassion in a-heart of stone. We did all we could to relieve her sufferings, and placed all our shawls and cushions at her disposal, and in this way we suc- ceeded in making her quite comfortable. "Well, here is a pretty mess," observed Mr. Hazelton, tersely. "Curse that cowardly villain --I beg your pardon, ladies, I do not often swear- but what did he want to as- sassinate me for??" "-Oh; hang it, what are men murdered for every day? Money, of course. But I never knew that regular highwaymen infested this road before to-night," said Mr. Travis, with an uneasy look over his shoulder'at the dark clumps of spruce and pine, as if a modern Jack Sheppard might be hiding there. "What in thunder is the world coming to?" growled the Doctor. "There is no safety 'for a man in -this part of it. By Jove, we had better emigrate to some heathen country where killing is against the law."' "A very good suggestion, Doctor;. but since killing is so common, and justice is so rare, I always carry my defence with me; and here it is," said Captain Dudley, .drawing THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 213 from his pocket as bright- and handsome a little "Der- ringer" as ever menaced human'life. "' There, this is the law to which I appeal independent of judge or jury, and if any dastardly, skulking assassin thinks it prudent to show his face at the present moment, let him do so, and may the Lord have mercy- on his soul." He tenderly patted the pistol, and gazed hard at the pines, as if he would very much like to try his skill on the infamous wretch who "fired that shot. " "It is no use to threaten or look bloodthirsty, Captain; we are too many for the villain, whoever he may be, and he won't show his face, you may depend.. But what is to be done--we can't stay here all night," replied Mr. Travis. "Quite true; but what is to be done? that's the question,' said young Wilbur. "Your horses are not disabled, are they, tlazelton?" "No, but the wagon is a perfect wreck; it is lying there against that cottonwood, smashed to splinters." "And I said so," put in Jacobs, glad in his heart that his prediction had been fulfilled in one respect, at any rate. "I said as how there 'd be a smash-up, but who'd 'a' thought that them thare bits of bloods would 'a' stood fire like old troopers, while these ere old livery plugs just kicks up and knocks things into flinders, backed clean off the bank, and cuts theirself orful in the hind pastern, as will lay 'em up for the rest of the season, I reckon." Having made this doleful announcement, Jacobs gently lifted the mangled pastern to his knee and looked at it long and sadly. The demolished carriage was nothing; our cuts,- and 'fractures, and bruises were nothing; but the injury done to his horses went to his soul. "I think the grays behaved exceeding well, considering the nearness and the suddenness of the blaze - phew, I fairly smelt the powder. You see how quiet they are; they have stood there by that birch sapling ever since as con- page: 214-215[View Page 214-215]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 214-215 214 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. tentedly as if in their stable, and they can clip along inside of 2.23, and do it easily," replied Mr. Hazelton, pointing with pride to where his horses were standing, keenly alert of eye and ear, but exhibiting neither restiveness nor alarm; and then, with disgust at Jacobs's droopy sorrels, as if they were not to be mentioned in the same breath: "But how thought- less I am to speak of such trifling matters when there is so much to do. "He turned sharp around and was all activity in a twinkling. "It can't be far to Crawford's, and that's the nearest we are to any human habitation, so far as I know. The broken vehicles will have to be abandoned for the present; we must put the ladies in the only carriage left, and make the best way we can ourselves on foot. It is the only choice left us, and the quicker we adopt it the better." This arrangement was speedily carried into effect. Miss Cliff was lifted into the carriage, Aunt Marcia and Mrs. Richton followed, and Jennie and myself, more dead than alive, were the last to enter. Robes and cushions and har- f ness, and like portions of loose equipments, were hastily gathered up. The wounded Mr. Wilbur mounted Gray Denmark, while Captain-Dudley did the same by his mate; and guarded by this forlorn escort, we resumed our journey anew, leaving Mr. Hazelton and the remainder of the gentle- men to trudge after us on foot, which caused poor old gouty Mr. Travis to say not a few naughty words, and wish the devil and all his imps had the mountain before he ever had the ill luck to tread its soil. Behind them all came Jacobs, leading the hobbling sorrels, and wearing a very woe-begone expression of visage. The jaded horses toiled on with patient endurance, and brought us safely to the top of the hill, from whence, shining afar down the valley like a beacon-star, the welcome light ,of Crawford's was seen, and shortly afterwards we were seated in the square, old-fashioned parlor of the hospitable mountain inn. THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 215- Fear and excitement, and the benumbing weight of that' other sickening horror lying chill at my heart, had made me until now almost insensible to bodily suffering. I had borne up bravely so far, but my ankle began to be very painful, and a blue contusion made its appearance over my right eye, which additional affliction quite amazed me, for I had not supposed myself so badly hurt. The Crawford stables kirfdly offered us the best they af- forded in the way of two lean-ribbed roans and a mammoth wagon big enough, to have accommodated Noah and his family from their little yachting excursion to Mount Ararat. While the obliging host was getting this antediluvian convey- ance in readiness for our use, I went out on the porch all overrun with tangled vines, and dim and desolate as one could wish, in a vain attempt to calm my troubled thoughts, and repeat over again the serious question I had asked my- self so many times already, "Who fired that shot?"I re- membered too well the sound of another, more sure on its mission of death, and this - this was strangely like it. The shadowy hemlocks, the concealed assassin waiting relent- less of purpose for the approach of his victim, the dead man found there in the frosty light of the winter morning,-and here it was acted over again, only the shot had not been fatal. The clump of spruces--the murderer crouching, weapon in hand, steady of nerve and remorseless of con- science, until the object for which he waited should ride by; then a careful aim--oh, 'horrible! heaven spare me the knowledge of another deed so foul, so dark and bloody in its sequence! - But what had a pistol-shot fired years ago in a New Eng- land swamp to do with a rifle-shot fired to-day in a Virginia mountain? 'Aye, true; but in plan and attempted consummation it was fearfully like that crime which had carried Burrill Otley to his grave, and which no law of man or vengeance of God had ever punished. page: 216-217[View Page 216-217]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 216-217 2i6 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. Tt was the storm that saved Judge Hazelton. Had the moon shone full and clear when he passed that cluster of dwarf-pine and cedar, the bullet would have found his heart and stilled its strong beatings forever. That which seemed to threaten destruction had really been his safeguard, for a deadlier foe than the royal lightning, flashing its wrath in the face of the universe, lurked in his path, and, for the money he might have about him, demanded his life. I leaned my aching head against the age-gray railing near which I sat, and tried not to think of it. The old house was more melancholy than ever, shrouded by the hush of night and the dew of its tears, the brook across the road, overhung by weeping-willows,-moaned a sorrowful tune, and a pale star came out and shone calmly down on the ruinous homestead. And Hwhither should I look for my star of hope and peace? Oh, the long, long wearisome day, it was finished at last. I laid my tired head on the pillow thankfully, and the humble cottage was a rest and refuge of unspeakable luxury after the danger and fatigue of that ever memorable ride. Aunt Eunice avowed in emphatic terms that she was very glad she did not make one of the party. She did not believe in clambering up mountains in the morning, simply for the pleasure of having one's limbs broken by tumbling down them. in the evening. I was confined to my room for several days, while Miss Cliff was as many weeks in recovering from the effects of her injuries. Mr. Wilbur smelt abominably of arnica for a fort- night, and Captain Dudley wore a strip of adhesive plaster on his forehead for about the same length of time. Miss Jennie was prevented from attending the hops, or any of the hotel festivities, for three whole days. The poor girl was so prostrated by the shock, and had such a long, hateful scratch across her dimpled chin and velvet cheek, that she was THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. * 2I7 ready to cry with vexation every time she caught a glimpse of herself in the glass. And her mamma-- well, Mrs. Richton had no nerves to speak of before the accident, and now she had absolutely none. Aunt Marcia succumbed to nerves also, and a wrapper and weak tea (you are always sure of weak tea at the White Sulphur) was all she could endure for nearly a week. Mr. Hazelton called every day to inquire' after our health, and Dr. Meeker gave us prescriptions which we did not take, and good advice which we did; and reported that Mr. Travis was laid up with the gout, and had to be trundled to the bath in a chair; and he declared the attack was brought on by that confounded tramping of it to Crawford's,. and he swore that if he ever went to the "Old Sweet " again, it would be when the mountains were levelled and cutthroats are not known in the land. The first may come to pass, for the workings of nature are marvellous, but the last will never be. % CHAPTER XXVI. MASTER AND MAN. THE mellow days of September came on apace, and ad- z. monished the summer idlers that the season was fast drawing to a close. The place abounded in romantic ram- bles, and lovers' bowers and picturesque retreats, fashioned by nature's own wondrous hand, every nook and corner of which was dear to the hearts of sentimental young people, and also to those who had outgrown the first glowing senti- ments of early youth. Among the flatter was Aunt Marcia, and I could not always escape the loving invitation she ex- tended for me to accompany her. It was the dread of meet- - 9 page: 218-219[View Page 218-219]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 218-219 218 . THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. ing Simon Pqst that held me back, otherwise she could not have proposed anything more in unison with my own in- clinations. To-day, however, I could not refuse without subjecting myself to unpleasant questioning touching the "oddity of my ways," a remark which I was getting to hear pretty frequently now from both my aunts, and which I felt was well deserved. So I did not object, ' for a wonder," as Aunt Marcia said; and furtively watchful, as it had become a habit for me to be, we set out for a stroll, my thoughts a dwelling on anything-but the scenery, lovely as it was, or the sauntering couples we were continually encountering. Aunt Eunice suffered slightly from palpitation, but on the whole gained the top of the little hill, which overlooked the entire range of white cottages, and entered the shady path beyond with but a trifling diminution of breath and some small abatement of her pedestrian zeal, "Now, aunty," said I, lightly, forgetting for the moment the skeleton ever darkly -haunting my mind; " now, aunty, I will show you they place of the Lovers' Leap, and never hereafter say there is no such thing as constancy in human nature." I led the way until we came to a gently sloping bank, greenly carpeted with earth-vines and frail little wild plants that no generous sunshine had ever warmed into more rugged growth. A third of the way down the declivity a grim old rock projected its frowning brow, and seemed, in its perpetual gauntness and sterility, to shadow and darken all the fair vegetation which surrounded it. Leaning over this rock, and partly growing from one of its many wide crevices, was an immense cypress, ages old apparently, and of mourn- fullest aspect. - 7 "There, Aunt Eunice, this spot is called the Lovers' Leap, in commemoration of a tender romance that ended in a real tragedy," Said I, pointing with mock solemnity to- wards the sullen rock. "The Lovers' Leap! what gave it that ridiculous name; there is -a story connected with it, I suppose?" o i THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. I29 "Oh, certainly, a legend sad as true, if the word of the 'oldest inhabitant' hereabout is to be believed." "Pray what is it, Eveleen? I am always interested in legends," said Aunt Marcia, sitting down on' the rustic seat opposite the solemn cypress, and composing herself to listen. "Well, once upon a time, ever so many years ago, when only savage tribes inhabited these mountains, an Indian maiden, young and fair, and the daughter of a powerful brave, fell in love with a pale-face--a hunter and warrior, handsome and fearless as any chieftain of them all, and, after the manner of her race, he wooed and won the beauti- ful Indian girl. But the treacherous pale-face proved false to his vows, and after a few blissful weeks cruelly deserted his dusky bride. Although she knew him to be faithless and utterly unworthy of her deep affection, still she loved him none the less, and nothing could dispel her griof. She had no wish to live -life contained no more pleasure for her, no hope, no trust, no faith, -and so, completely broken- hearted, and her soul filled with the bitterest despair, she sought this lonely spot, and here, standing on that shelving rock beneath the cypress-tree, she sang her death-song as befitted the daughter of a. mighty chief, resigned her spirit to the Great Father who dwelleth in the glorious hunting- grounds, far, far beyond the Blue Ridge, and flung herself headlong from the rock." "How very sad," pathetically observed Mrs. Edgerton, between a smile and a sigh, as if she would like to, but really could not credit the tale. "And what became of the wicked pale-face?" dryly in- quired Aunt Eunice, a twinkle of incredulity lighting up her kind old eyes. "Why, he behaved very handsomely when he came to know the piteous fate of his bride. He repented his cruelty, of course, as people often do when it is too late, and stung page: 220-221[View Page 220-221]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 220-221 220 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. by remorse, which no time or distance served to alleviate or in any degree made bearable, he resolved to atone his sin in strict accordance with the old Mosaic law, and give a life for a life. And to that end he came here also, the fell purpose of self-destruction firmly fixed in his mind, gave on6 wild leap, and jumped from the rock to the gloomy chasm below; and there he was found a lifeless corpse - the victim of his own folly, and his misdoing avenged by his own conscience. And so ends the legend of the Lovers' Leap." And a precious pair of fools they were. I don't believe a word of it, Eva," was my good old aunt's sententious comment. "Oh, yes, the story is no fiction, quite authentic, aunty dear,'and you would not wish to spoil so pretty a love-tale by casting a doubt on its truth, I am sure." "Stuff! It never happened in the world. It would not hurt a baby to roll off that rock; and as to a big, rough hunter, as he must have been to keep the company he did, and an uncivilized Injun woman, they'd not get a scratch." This was conclusive, and we resumed our walk. Half an hour was about the longest my aunts ever devoted to'exer- cise of this sort, and at. the expiration of that time both were tired, and expressed a desire to return to the cottage. I begged permission to remain a while longer, assuring them I was not in the least afraid, and no harm would befall me. Aunt Eunice made no objection, bilt Mrs. Edgerton, more strict in her notions of propriety, reluctantly granted my request, and her parting injunction to me was, "not to be gone long and not to go far." I waited until they were out of sight, and then cried, with something of my old joyous rebound of spirits, "Now for a run all by myself this ex- quisite afternoon; here is freedom and quiet and beauty enough to satiate the most enthusiastic lover of nature." I quickly left the public path for one less frequented, and which led to the very centre of the little wood,. When I THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 221 had found a place that suited me, snug and secure from acci- dental intrusion, I made myself a comfortable seat at the. foot of a laurel-bush, as I used to do when Archie shared my sylvan rambles, and fell into a reverie. It was just the spot and hour for idle, half dreamful, half wakeful musing, and there was just sufficient of sound to make indolence and repose delicious to .thought and senses. Birds and bees and butterflies flew about on lazy wings, and the sunlight crept and glimmered through leafy coverts where wild wood-flowers exhaled faint perfumes, sweet and nameless as those which my childhood remembered so well. The band was playing on the lawn, and soft strains of Weber's music, mellowed by the charm of distance, came stealing to my ear. Low and sad and tender the notes rose and fell, like celestial melody, and the birds ceased their song to listen, and the brook far below in the valley lost its happy murmur in the higher cadence floating dreamily in the air. I was aroused from my pleasant abstraction by hearing first a mingling of light footsteps, and then two voices con- versing in a subdued but very earnest tone. Steps and voices drew momentarily near, and I glanced through the intervening foliage to discover who it might be. But the leaves were so thick I could see no one. A great many people, I knew, were wandering through this common pleasure-ground of White Sulphur visitors, but the path I had chosen was rather out of the usual course, and I was a little curious to know who it was that exhibited a taste similar to my own. Ever so softly I parted the laurel, and my curiosity was at once satisfied. Sitting on a mossy stone not ten yards dis- tant was Simon Post and his valet. The one moody and silent, the other cheerful and voluble. It was the valet who spoke. "This- is a confoundedly dull place,Sir Atherton. We are shut up like a rat in a trap, and these hot-headed South- 19 * page: 222-223[View Page 222-223]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 222-223 222 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. erners are the devil and all to deal with." He yawned, and looked around discontentedly; as if the universe was alto- gether too narrow for a proper display of his talents. Simon sat staring at the ground and made no answer. "One can never get on here, there is so little opportunity for business." "Business?"Simon lifted his eyes searchingly to the speaker's face, and was slow to remove them. "Yes, that is a good word--the- pivot on which all the world turns. Cards are a drug, the cashy fellows fight shy, infernal provoking of them - and to -go deeper - '-" "Look ye, Wighie, no villany--I will not suffer it;" and Simon turned on him a gaze of unmistakable anger. "Bah! who has hinted at villany?--purely business, and nothing else. Have I ever gone counter to the laws?" coolly replied the unabashed Wighie. "I do -not know, nor do I care; I am not a man to be trifled with, any more than I am one to pry into other people's affairs. What your object was in wishing to assume the character of a valet I cannot fathom-" "No n).yatfTess your motive in being Sir Atherton Doane," quickly responded his companion. "My audacity is only etualled by your own, and we can't well quarrel on that score, 'The truth is, it became highly necessary for me to lose my i'Etity for a while, and I think I have succeeded pretty effectually. A capital idea that -of mine, eh, to be valet to a British nobleman? ha, ha! by Jove, it is a huge joke! And you play it superbly, hanged if you don't, and I--well, I am quite well up in my part too, respectful, obedient, and reliable, ha, ha, ha!" and- the facetious Wighie gavevent to his merriment in a low,. prolonged laugh, which elicited not the feeblest glimmer of a smile from Simon. He was a short muscular man, this Wighie, with a cold gray eye and a determined mouth, about which there lurked an expression of evil and showed him to be, i , THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 223 notwithstanding his excessive hilarity, a person not unac- quainted with the sins and follies. of life. His- full, clean- shaven face had a certain amount of good-nature in it, and whatsoever he did you felt assured he was not a man to repent a crime or a fault, or be easily dissuaded from a fixed purpose. He was the exact opposite of Simon in looks and disposition, as stout and florid as the other was pale and slender, and as talkative as his companion was reticent. I bent on them a stare of half frightened amazement, and listened in breathless attention to every word that was said. The complete density of the leaves surrounding my hiding- place made it perfectly safe for me to do so, and I had no compunctions of conscience regarding the honorableness of the act, for this was no ordinary eavesdropping, and I argued that the end justified the means. Mr. Wighie, having ,recovered his wonted composure, resumed the conversation, and his voice now partook more of a warning than a jocular tone. "Better make hay while the sun' shines, my dear fellow. The old gentleman is not readily blinded, but the mother you may use as you like, and if you should marry the girl, wny, your fortune is made, and mine too, I trust, in a small, indirect way. I am modest in miny expectations, too much so for my own advancement. I am aware of that, and it is the reason of my always being down in the world." Wighie sighed, and looked uncommonly injured for a man of so self-denying a nature. "Marry what girl?" "Old Richton's daughter, of course." "What, Jennie Richton? You are a fool, Wighie." . "Perhaps I am, but you might do worse. The girl will have a clear million to bestow with her hand; a three months' honeymoon, and then off to foreign parts;, and .your lady will not weep or die of a broken heart because of your ab- sence. And her diamonds, my boy, they alone are worth the venture." page: 224-225[View Page 224-225]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 224-225 224 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. "Do you take me for- an out-and-out scoundrel, a poor, low vulgar thief, that you dare to mention such a contempti- ble project to me!" retorted Simon, in a voice of suppressed passion, and a something of wounded pride, outraged feeling, and aroused manliness betrayed itself in his manner, and trembled through the low uttered words. "You form a wrong estimate of my character if you place me in that category of villains,for the crown-jewels of England could not tempt me to marry her. I'love a woman already--yes, and hate her, too, to the bitter death. It was that which drove me to renounce home and name, and -no matter, it is no concern of yours.;"His clenched hand fell heavily to his knee, and a look of acute pain crossed his white, wan features. I clasped my trembling hands, even as I crouched cold and sick with fear and pity, and breathed the heart-felt prayer: "Lord, forgive him, for he did love me..!" Wighie, if he noticed it at all, had little sympathy with his master's emotion, and his flippant reply must have jarred rudely on the finer sensibilities of his companion. "Phew'! then it is a love-affair. A woman at the bottom of your masquerading, h? Hate, revenge, and all that to be accomplished before you are satisfied; and a deuce of a dirty chase it will lead you,' if you follow it to the end." "-And that I will, as sure as there is a heaven above. Revenge! I live for that alone now, and have it I will!" The hard, fierce expression I knew of old flashed in Simon's eyes, and rather startled Mr. Wighie. "You are welcome to your revenge, I have novsuch business as that on hand; but about the diamonds, you are sure they are the real sparklers, and not mere shams?" He leaned towards Simon and awaited his answer with a strange eagerness, and his face, in that greedy, eager at- titude, was actually repulsive to look at, and told me the avaricious nature of the man plainer than any words could have expressed it. THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 225 "I presume they are genuine," said Simon, indifferently; ' but what is it to me whether they are or not?" ' Nothing perhaps, but it may be to me. You have far too much conscience, Sir Atherton. You see how particular I a rto use the name, even when occasion does not require formality between us. A man has no business with a con- science in these days, for it is certain to ruin him if he gives way to it. Now, I have no conscience, and the sooner you are rid of yours the better. And then ytu are so plaguy careful of your tongue, nobody can tell how to take you; but I have often thought that you were a little deeper in the mire than ever revenge would be likely to drag you." Simon calntly raised his eyes full to Mr. Wighie's face, and the slow, deliberate gazer seemed to deny the accusation of guilt; while it mutely proclaimed his innocence of ever having done aught to bring upon him this bad man's coarse suspicions. I think Mr. Wighie so felt it, for he pursued the subject no further. Simon had silenced him by a look. After this he appeared to be a little uneasy and doubtful of his ground, but Wighie was not a person to remain long embarrassed for any cause Whatsoever, and certainly not when his iindividual interests were at stake, as they seemed to be at the present moment. Somehow Miss Jennie Richton and her diamonds had taken a strong hold of his fancy, and he clung to the theme with commendable-per- tinacity. "You were with the Richton party the day they visited the chalybeate springs, were you not?" "No. I rode over in the stage; they went in private carriages." Well, you had a rather rough time of it, I believe?" "Not in particular. Why do you ask?" "Oh, mere curiosity. But I really thought you returned with them." {' You are trying to find out the reasori of my going there. P page: 226-227[View Page 226-227]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 226-227 '- %, ' 226 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. It is useless for you to attempt beating about the bush. I know you, John Wighie, but my reason was a good- one, thank God, and that I did not succeed in my purpose is no fault of mine." I knew Simon Post to be the king of deception, and I also knew that he could be sincere and truthful. He was truth- ful now, and in my heart I felt keenly that I had done him at least one injustice. "The mask-ball-comes off next week; have you any knowledge, Sir Atherton, what the Richtons - mother and daughter-are to wear?" said Wighie, after a pause, assuming a careless manner greatly at variance with his former greedy earnestness when speaking of these ladies and their wealth. "How should I know? Some gorgeous costume, I sup- pose, which will afford a fine display of rich dresses and jewels." " "No doubt of it; and you will be there, grand as the grandest of them. There is nothing like assurance, Sir Atherton-nothing; it takes a man everywhere; and you are blessed with a larger stock of it than most people possess." Thanks for your kind opinion;, and you are " "Well?" "A person-I shall t0ke the liberty of keeping an eye on." Simon rose, turned his back on the astonished Mr. Wig- bie, and quietly walked away, leaving his " valet" to follow or remain, as suited his pleasure. He decided to do the first, and I watched them disappear, master and man, with a multitude of confused thoughts con- flicting oddly in my mind. The evening of the mask-ball arrived, and everybody, young and old, was in a fever of excitement. For days pre- vious nothing had been talked of but costumes; and to hit upon somethingriot already worn threadbare was the great object of all those who were to take part in the amusement. THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 227 By ten o'clock the long ball-room was filled with a brilliant throng of maskers; and every conceivable -character that human ingenuity could imitate or invent seemed to have been called into requisition. Miss Jennie Richton was there in the costume of a Persian princess, and by her side Sir Atherton Doane in a plain evening dress, and calm and courtly as usual. Over my somewhat trite dress of a shepherdess I wore a pink doming, and kept myself well in the back-ground among the line of spectators ranged around the room, who only had eyes for the dancers, and paid very'little attention to anybody else. Sir Atherton -and Miss Richton were waltzing; again and again they whirled past, her head half reclining on his shoulder, and his arm about her waist. Three times they made the circuit of the room, and then Sir Atherton led his flushed and dizzy partner to a seat where it was evidently his intention to leave her; but the young beauty had no idea of letting him off so easily, and archly motioned him to a place beside her. "You must not run away in that uncivil manner. Waltz- ing is so fatiguing, you must be tired; pray sit down and rest yourself before taking another turn. It is an age since I have seen you, and I have been longing to tell you all about my adventure." Sir Atherton took the indicated seat, and said, rather vaguely, as if he did not care for the narration of any sort of adventure just then: "I will hear the story now, Miss Richton, if you please. Adventures are always interesting; what was it?" "Oh, a very shocking thing, almost a murder." Sir Atherton started. "Almost a murder! You surprise me, Miss Richton." "Do I? Then I have cause to congratulate myself, for I began to think it impossible to surprise you." page: 228-229[View Page 228-229]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 228-229 228 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. Miss Jennie, delighted by the impression she had made, lucidly narrated the whole circumstance of -that disastrous ride to the "( Old Sweet," and finished the Story by append- ing the following severe remark: "Murder is a terrible business, Sir Atherton, let it occur where and how it may,; and life, though he escape the pun- ishment his crime richly merits, must be dreadful to a man who has shed another's blood." Sir Atherton regarded the girl keenly. 'Absolutely unbearable, I should say, Miss Richton." "Yes, and this assassin must have been utterly conscious- less to have it in his heart to shoot down an unoffending fellow-creature just because, he wanted his money. My friend, Miss Eveleen - Why, what is the matter, Sir Ather- ton, you are as pale as a ghost?" "It is nothing: a slight affection of the heart; I am sub- ject to it. If you will excuse me, I will take a walk in the open air, that will soon restore me." He rose, bowed, and left the ball-room, his -face as white as those of the dead, awfully white among that gay assemblage of happy men and women, and Sir Atherton Doane was seen no more that night. His abrupt departure left poor Jennie quite companionless, and happening to descry me at the moment, she lost no time in coming over to where I was standing, and whispered laughingly: "I have penetrated the mystery of the pink doming at last, and I have scared away Sir Atherton, so I must have somebody to talk to. I was telling him about that wretched ride of ours, and was just going to explain what a brave little woman you were, when he all of a sudden grew as col- orless as a spectre, and his eyes, bless me, Eva, they seemed to look straight through me, and had such a very iincom- fortable stare.- Some trouble of the heart, he said, poor fellow! I hope it is no serious difficulty. It is so dreadful to have one's heart out of order.'"' THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 229 Jennie sighed behind her mask, and the next minute was testing her own by inaugurating a lively flirtation with the enraptured Mr. Wilbur. Unmasking, supper, and more dancing ended the festivity of the evening. It was late when the company began to disperse, and we were putting on our wraps in the cloak- room, when Jennie a good deal surprised me by asking what I esteemed an exceeding great favor of my aunt. "Please, Mrs. Edgerton, allow Eveleen to go home with me to-night. I hate being alone after a scene of this kind. I am sure to dream all sorts of frightful things." Mrs. Edgerton hesitated; but Jennie urged her wish so earnestly that she finally overcame my aunt's scruples and she consented. So all in a minute the invitation was offered and accepted, and Miss Richton carried me off in triumph. It was but a step from the hotel to the Richton cottage, and when there was no music, or lights, or splendid cos- tumes to detract our attention, we discovered that we were very tired and sleepy. Miss Jennie's expeditious disrobing was marvellous to witness, considering the length of time it had taken her to dress: The Persian princess was soon a mere ordinary mortal, drowsily brushing herl auburn hair, in a daintily ruffled night-dress and Turkish slippers. Dia- monds, a fortune's weight of them, were carelessly tossed on the. dressing-table, the silken garments of the princess strewed the room, thrown down anywhere, and five minutes after her bright head touched the pillow, pretty Miss Jennie was sound asleep. I was less fortunate, and slumber was slow to bestow upon me its beneficent balm. A chamber-lamp burned faintly on the table, and its dim rays-fell directly on the sparkling jewels, bracelets, necklace, and tiara, all lying in a confused heap, partly in and partly out of their velvet-lined casket, just as heedless Jennie had thrown them aside, as if they were of no more value than bits of transparent glass. I fell 20 , page: 230-231[View Page 230-231]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 230-231 230 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. asleep at last, with my, eyes fixed dreamily on the gems, and was awakened, how long afterward I cannot tell, by the cautious opening of the window-shutter; a sound of suppressed breathing followed, and then all was still. The lamp had gone out, and the room was in total darkness. I raised my head and listened. . Noiselessly the shutter opened, and slowly, inch by inch, the window was stealthily lifted. My heart was in my throat, but I would not give way to my terror. A single ray of starlight--that cold, sickly, un- certain starlight which presages the near approach of the dawn - straggled wanly in, and with it appeared above the sill, the head and shoulders of a man. Impelled by a sudden impulse, I sprang from the bed and caught up the jewels; at the same instant a' piercing scream from Jennie aroused the slumbering household, and general consternation prevailed. "Oh, my diamonds! my diamonds!" cried Jennie, in great agitation. "Save my diamonds, Eva, for heaven's sake! mamma will never forgive me if they are lost." "Here they are, quite safe, and in the future let me ad- vise you to take better care of them." By this time Mr. and Mrs. Richton, and half a dozen servants, were on the scene, and there was no longer any cause for alarm. The figure at the window was gone, but not before I had recogizned in the midnight burglar no less a personage than Mr. Wighie, Sir Atherton pane's valet. - THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 231 CHAPTER XXVII. FACE TO FACE; fO N the hill back of our cottage was a rural burying- ground --a wild, lonely spot, surrounded by forest- trees and overrun with briers and weeds. It was separated from the woodland by a low, dilapidated paling, and the broken, hingeless gate stood half open, as if to invite both the dead and the living within its gloomy precincts.- It was the most desolate of all desolate burial-places, so dreary and neglected, and full of nameless graves above which no lov- ing hand had ever planted a flower or raised a stone. Yet all w'ere not nameless, for there were many quaint old monu- ments, black with age and covered with moss, whereon were inscribed queerly written inscriptions and grim devices which time and the action of the elements had almost obliterated. This silent old grave-yard was a favorite haunt of mine, and I was wandering about among the tombs one day, when the meeting I had so long dreaded, and had endeavored to -avoid, took place. A slight rustling noise attracted my attention; I turned to ascertain the cause, and stood face to face with Simon Post. .For a moment we looked at each other steadily, and while I did so, his face grew as white as the marble stone against which he leaned. "And so once again, Eveleen Folger, we stand face to face!" The sound of his voice recalled my dazed faculties, and determined -my course of action. I drew back, and answered coldly: "Excuse me, but I have not the honor of know- ing Sir Atherton Doane." ' ., He smiled bitterly. "We will waive the question of conventionality, if you please. Sit down - I want to look at ybu." page: 232-233[View Page 232-233]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 232-233 232 T3HE HEMLOCK SWAMP. He pointed me to a seat on a fallen- grave-stone, and planted himself directly before me. I mechanically obeyed the imperative gesture of his thin, white finger, and took the seat indicated without daring to gainsay his wishes. My ready compliance pleased him, for his features grew less stern and his smile less bitter. (' You are very handsome, Eveleen - very handsome, just now, with leaf-shadows dancing over your hair, and that ripple of sunlight lying warmly at your feet. And well your graceful figure becomes the dingy old tombstone. I wonder if the mouldy, worm-gnawed bones beneath were ever a pretty young woman like you." "You shall not mock me in this -" 'Ah, do not rise; as I said before, I want to look at you, and so impress upon -my mind a fadeless memory of your face as I see it here. You are the woman who has made ply life the worthless thing it is. From your very childhood you have been its bane, and have wrecked my happiness so completely that I wish I had died when a boy, and so have escaped this pitiable ruin of my manhood." ', And if I did, Simon, remember I did it unintentionally. God knows, I never meant to wrong you," said I, gently, 'for when he talked like that, I could not answer him harshy. Strangely enough, I had lost all fear of Simon -now I saw him so feeble in health, so miserably hopeless; and only pity -a deep intense pity, filled my heart for him. "And you can speak my name, Eva, without shuddering? you know you could not the last time we met." "Yes, and speak it kindly." "And why should you not; have I ever harmed you?" he replied, quickly and a little fiercely. "No, you never have; but still I can't forget that you-" "Nor can I forget: that is the curse of humanity. I think unforgetfulness is only another name for hell. I have lived in perdition for months, and you see the poor skeleton it i - f': "i THE HEMLOCK SWAMP, ' 233 has made of me. Yet in the innermost depth of my heart, lighting its darkest deed, appears the one face that I hazve tenderly loved, that I do tenderly love, -my sainthest then, my sainthest still, and that face is yours." *' And for that reason I can forgive you much." "Forgive me! if I never injured you, of what should you forgive me?"He folded his arms tightly across his breast, and a gleam of defiance shone in his eyes. "For the grave which cannot utter its forgiveness." "Hush! the dead are dead, and graves are but heaps of earth. It is the end of us all -and what matters it how we getinto it?" He glanced around nervously, and carefully removed his foot from the tangled myrtle which covered the dust of some mortal, who had long lain here on the hillside, and over whom many heedless feet had passed. "Truly, Simon, what does it matter?" He understood the meaning of my words, but his eyes fell not a whit, and there was no hesitation in his reply. "Not an atom; I don't care how I die. I 'd as lief be killed suddenly as not." "-Are you ready to die, Simon?" "What sane man is ever ready to die? No, I prefer to live. a little longer.", He came nearer, so near that I could- plainly hear the rapid beating of his heart--that poor, restless heart, that troubled him so sorely at times--and his manner betrayed that he wished to efface from my mind any adverse impres- sion which his disguise might have created. "Perhaps you think I have some bad motive in dropping my own name and assuming another not quite so grating to the ear. I have none, I Ido assure you. You know I always hated the name 'of Simon Post, and Sir Atherton Doane suits me better. " " ' ' "Oh, pray don't explain anything," I hastily rejoined. 20 * page: 234-235[View Page 234-235]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 234-235 234 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. "Don't tell me aught of your motives, I - I could not bear to hear them." He frowned, the old dark scowl I had seen before, and never without an inward shrinking. "I have cursed you a thousand times. I have lain awake at night, whispering over the plan of my revenge. I swore to make your life as joyless as you had made mine; I vowed that Eveleen Folger should never know a happy moment during the whole course of her existence; and I meant to hunt you down, to consummate slowly my end, and when the -cup of bliss was at your lips, to dash it to the ground, and then laugh at your misery. But I can't, Eva, I cannot hate you in act, try as I will. -.I cannot harm you a finger's weight. The hate was only in my thoughts, and never would, it never could have found expression in deed." His voice faltered, and with a great and: bitter cry he threw himself onr his knees at my feet, caught my hands in a passionate clasp, and sobbed out, the unutterable anguish of his soul in a flood of tears--such tears as I hope never to see shed again. "Oh, Eva, Eva," he moaned, " pity me, pity me, for no tongue can tell how miserable I am -utterly, hope- lessly miserable, and I was not always unworthy of you." "I do pity you, Simon, and if I could, oh, if I only could, how gladly would I help you to lift from your conscience the terrible burden of remorse that is slowly eating away your life." His tears were wet on my hands; I knew the agonizing source from which they sprung, and not mine the heart to deny him compassion in this the piteous hour of his need. Oh, solemn sight in that solemn place!- Oh, sorrowful sound--in that sorrowful solitude! the dead in their graves must have heard, and carried to Heaven the message of re- pentance that only the dead plight know! I did not try to free myself from his grasp. If it was a consolation to him to , cry himself into composure with his head bowed on my, THE HEMLOCK SWAM'P. 235 hands, I would suffer it, for it was one- of those touches which, if we shake off indignantly, we are sure to regret 'long afterward, and wish we had been more patient and forgiving. I was not indignant, far from it; I had too much womanly sympathy for the man not to feel deeply this un- restricted emotion, whatsoever my dislike of him in the past had been. When he was more calm, I said, and I honestly felt that I owed him the acknowledgment: "Simon, to-day has taught me that no person has the right to judge another, for by so doing I have done you one injustice, which I now ask you to pardon, inasmuch as it was brought about by a combination of circumstances which forced me to --to doubt you.' "One injustice! in your thoughts I have suffered many, I presume." He lifted his head wearily, and the extreme pallor of his face startled me. "Are you ill, Simon, you look so very pale?" "No, only soul-sick, and I am used to that; but this one injustice, what is it?" "Miss Richton told you about the ride, and what hap- pened that day, did she not?" "Yes." "Well, I was with the party." "You were?" "Yes, and when I heard that shot, I thought -forgive me, Simon, but I could not help it-- I thought-- "' That I was the villain who fired it." He turned away with an humbled yet proud air, that made me uncomfortable to know I had occasioned. "Why do you not ask what it was that caused me to change my opinion?" "Because I do not care." "Still it is important that you should." "Well?" - page: 236-237[View Page 236-237]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 236-237 236 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. "Mr. Wighie is a person whose services you might dis- pense with and find it a great advantage to yourself and no loss to the general public." "Wighie, what do you know of him?" Simon regarded me in utter wonder. "Nothing to his credit. I believe him to be the man who attempted the murder of Judge Hazelton, and I know he is the robber who tried to possess himself of the Richton diamonds. ' "Yes, I see; that accounts for some things I could not quite understand before. But he is fortunate; Fate or the Devil befriends him. He is never successful." And that was'a strange expression for a man to say, stranger still the look of unspeakable discontent -and envy that settled on Simron's face. "I have done you another wrong also. From the moment of your arrival here, I have known it, and I believed your purpose in coming to be an evil one, just as I thought you to be my relentless enemy. I tried my best to avoid you, but since we have met, and in a kinder spirit than I ever dreamed it possible we could meet, let- me beg of you to rid yourself of this unprincipled valet, who is no valet at all, but a creature hiding from justice, and making you the scape- goat of his crimes." "Leave me to deal with him. And now, Eva, good-bye, I am going away to-morrow." " Good-bye, Simon. I will be mute as this mound be- neath our feet, if that be a cause of anxiety to you." "' None whatever. I know you better than that. When I lost you, Eva, I lost all on earth vthat I cared for. It was life or death to me, and a man will fight hard for his life. I did for mine, and in my own way. The world was nothing to me, or any one in it, so I should win you; other men - have made a like mistake, and I can bear what other men have borne. While I live, I must love you. remember that, THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 237 when harsh thoughts rise up in your heart against me, and that much of my sin was committed for your sake." Sadly, very sadly, he turned and left me standing there, alone in the midst of the time-worn old tombs. The quivering myrtle drew away from nis footsteps, and the tall briers plucked at him as he passed; and so, through the little gate, beyond the broken paling, out into the world-that great busy world lying far distant from these mountain graves, going away to die. Poor, wretched, unhappy Simon I life, and the worth of living, had indeed ended for him! CHAPTER XXVIII. IT IS BETTER SO. L ATE in September we bade adieu to the White Sulphur Springs, and started on our journey homeward. It was nearly eight o'clock in the evening when we reached Staun- ton, where we were to spend the night and continue our journey the following day. The town was filled to over- flowing with all sorts of people, for it was just at that period of the season when visitors make their simultaneous exodus from the different springs in the neighborhood of the moun- tains, and every train and stage-coach brought fresh crowds of returning pilgrims to the venerable borough of Staunton, consequently all the hotels were full to repletion, and beds in any of them were at a premium. The landlord of the best inn the town afforded, however, kindly managed to furnish us with passable lodgings, and after much hurrying and giving of orders, and searching of the office register, finally made us comfortable "in two little rooms at the top of the house. This host, strange to say, was the soul of candor, and deprecatingly remarked, as he page: 238-239[View Page 238-239]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 238-239 238 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. surrendered to Aunt Eunice a great brass key legibly num- bered 39: ' - "There is a sick gentleman in 38, but he is very quiet and not likely to disturb you." "A sick gentleman, dear me! and nobody to take care of him, I suppose, - there never is in a hotel." The host smiled ambiguously. "He has a octor and nurse, besides a friend, to take care of him, and seems to be a person with plenty of money at his command; so I think, so far as attention is concerned, he is not so badly situated.'" The host blandly withdrew, and we soon after retired, for we were to start early in the morning, and the day had been a fatiguing one. No unusual sounds proceeded from 38 until near mid- night, when a low groan from the next room fell drearily on our ears, and a{ once aroused the Christian sympathies of Aunt Eunice - "6 It is n /use: I can't sleep when I know there is a suffer- ing huna creature in the very next room. What a dismal groan that was, he must be in great pain," said she, rising from the bed with alacrity, and hastily throwing on her wrapper. " I am an old woman, so there is no chance for scandal to come of it, and I am going in to see if I can be of any service to that poor young man. Nurses and doctors are all very well, but they are professional, and I'll go in and see for myself that he is comfortable." Aunt Eunice went out of the room and softly entered that of the sick stranger, without stopping to preface her entrance with the premonitory rap commonly resorted to on such occasions. She wanted to take the hired attendant by surprise, and she did. On the stand at the foot of the bed burned a shaded lamp, and in the opposite corner, placidly stretched on a long, old-fashioned hair-cloth sofa, a youing colored girl was profoundly slumbering. Her arms, black THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 239 as ebony, were folded above her head, her mouth open to an astonishing extent, and her deep, healthful snore mingled grotesquely with the sick man's hollow moan and painful breathing. And very sick he was, pale and attenuated, toss- ing and muttering in delirious unrest, and having on his face the look of one whose time on earth had nearly ex- pired. Aunt Eunice walked across the room with little ceremony, and gave the girl a smart shake. "Is this the way you attend to your duty, young woman? Don't you see the gentleman is very bad and needs constant watching?" The girl awoke with a stupid stare, and rubbed her eyes sleepily as an inducement for them to open wide enough to let her see the person who thus uncivilly invaded her domain. "Lordy me, I can't do no more 'an lay here. His fren jus bin in an toted off all da tings belongin' to 'um, an' he's done gone off on da train, but I'm not sponsibie for dat, an' I can't stop his groanin'," replied the nurse, in a tone of injured expostulation. "But you can keep awake, and give him his medicine as you are instructed to do, can't you?" "Oh, I gives him de doctor-stuff reglar, I dos, missus." "Where is it his friend has gone?" '"Donno, missus." "Tile gentleman seems very ill. What is the matter with him?" "Donno for cartan, an' de doctor don't, but it 'pares to be in his bres, an' his heart it do flutter sometimes mighty bad. He's sensible 'cept when he's sleepin'; den he kinder grumbles to hisself like he was out of his head. " Aunt Eunice indignantly turned from this sorry specimen of a nurse, and went up to the bedside.- She looked hard at the haggard features, and tenderly laid her hand on his page: 240-241[View Page 240-241]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 240-241 240 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. clammy forehead. The compassionate touch startled him ter- ribly, and he sprang to a sitting posture, staring around the room in a wild, bewildered way until his eyes settled on Aunt Eunice. He made aviolent gesture for her to leave him, tried vainly to speak, and fainted, falling back on the pillow like one suddenly stricken dead. Aunt Eunice caught up the- camphor-bottle and applied its contents with vigor. Quickly huddling on my dressing-gown, I had silently followed my aunt into the room, and now stood gazing blankly down at the pale, wasted face of the sick man - the face of Simon Post, locked, as it seemed to me, in the chill embrace of death. A smothered cry broke from my lips, and I fell on my knees beside the bed. Why, what in the world is the matter, child? Do you know him?" exclaimed Aunt Eunice, in great surprise. "Yes; I saw him several times at the White Sulphur Springs; is he very ill, aunty?" "That he is; butthis is not death, he will soon revive, for it is only a fainting-fit such as usually accompanies heart- disease." A plentiful use of camphor and active rubbing speedily had the desired effect, and the sufferer opened his eyes. Slowly, painfully slow, the pale lids lifted above the vacant sight and looked straight up at Aunt Eunice. "What are you doing here, old Eunice Daly?"And the voice which uttered the words might have come from the grave, so strange was it. "Merciful father! if he don't know me too," she cried, springing back in consternation to hear her name mentioned in that unearthly voice. His wandering gaze at last fixed itself on me, and he mo- tioned me to approach. Miss Daly, I wish to speak with this lady alone; will you be so good as to leave the room for a few moments," he labored to articulate. "% THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 241 "Go, dear aunty, please; I will explain all by-and-by. This gentleman has a secret to tell me which closely relates to the happiness of one I love," I whispered. "Do you mean Arke?" she asked, suspiciously. "Yes, and - another." "Very well; call me when you want me, but I must say, W1on't understand it at all.)" She retired rather stiffly, for the kind soul was never so summarily disposed of in her life before. I closed the door on her retreating figure - the nurse had slipped away some minutes previous - and I was alone with Simon. "It is certain that I have not long to live, Eva!" "Quite certain, Simon." He turned aside his face, and was silent for a little while. "It is better so, perhaps - yes, far better so." Again he was still, and then repeated, very softly: "Yes, it is better so." His eyes wistfully sought mine, and held their wide, speaking gaze steadily. "I am very weak, but I am in my right mind, and any statement -any confession I might make would be believed, would it not?" "Undoubtedly; have no fear of that." He mused a second, and- folded his hands one over the other in a thoughtful way. "You know that I murdered Burrill Otley." He said it in an entirely composed manner, and without the fall of an eyelash. "Yes, and may God forgive you. Oh, Simon, Simon! how could you, how dared you commit that awful crime?" "Why, I did it for you-- that I might have the means wherewith to give us a start in the world." I groaned in utter anguish of soul,\and a ghastly smile crept over his face, and parted his ashy lips in response. "Listen, Eveleen. It was-my single thought by day and page: 242-243[View Page 242-243]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 242-243 242 - THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. by night how I could make money, and by so doing win you and the home where it was my dream -to take you. The money I knew Otley carried about him that evening was a terrible temptation,'and I yielded to it as no other motive could ever have urged me. I disguised myself in an old-gray coat -and hat, and lay in wait for him like the determined assassin I was. I secured his riches --and a goodly store there was in ready cash - secreted it in a safe place until the excitement attending the murder should have abated, and no man living ever guessed who did the deed." There was triumph in his voice, the ruling passion strong in death. "But a woman did," I answered, coldly. "A woman did, but not for long afterward; and the woman had her secret, too. I baffled them all, and I die baffling them -die naturally and calmly here in my bed, and not as, you said, the murderer of Burrill Otley would make his exit from the-world." He laughed horribly, and I drew away shuddering. "It was Archie I met in the Hemlock Swamp that morn- ing, and to save him the misery and shame of bearing the blame of your guilt, I was forced to act the deceitful part I did. We found the body of Otley lying cold and frozen in the path, just where your mad, fatal avarice had slain him." "Then you did see the body? I suspected as much." "I did; and when, long afterward, I saw you dig up the treasure you had forfeited your life to possess, .I knew- fearful knowledge-whose hand it was that had killed the paymaster." 'And I have been punished, can you not see that? -I have suffered a thousand deaths every day and hour since. This is all that conscience has left of me, the merest shadow of a man. Yet I was not absolutely heartless, for I tried to make amends in the only way I could. Otley had a wife. I heard she was living in Virginia not far from this place, THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. 2. 43 and thither I went to seek her, my purpose being to restore to her all the money left of the large amount I had taken from her husband; but she died a year ago, and that hope was vain, like all the good ones I have cherished." "Thank heaven, you acted upon it, if it was vain." "Yes, there is some consolation in that; and, besides, I have found you. I always longed to be a gentleman in name and appearance; here was just the opportunity for me to put the wish in practice; and I shall die Sir Atherton Doane, as honorable a man as Society has courted for many a day. I picked up Wighie in my travels, a born villain; but he was useful, and thought me simply a fortune-hunter and a swindler, not -a--well, nothing worse; and now he has gone and left me to take care of myself." "And his loss can be borne, I am sure, Simon." "Still it was leaving a fellow in the lurch pretty roughly. You see, I am liable to die any minute; I know the result of these heart-attacks- quick and sudden death---but I am prepared for it. I have a written confession legally, sub- scribed and sworn to, which, should the occasion require, will explain the whole story." He drew from beneath the pillow a neatly sealed packet, and handed it to me. "Take it, Eva; I. can trust it with you, for you are a woman, and will never betray the man who has loved you to his ruin, body and soul. And I would have you spare my mother and sisters the sorrow of knowing what led to my early taking off. Save them that, Eva, and, if you can manage it, I would like to be buried at the old homestead by the side of the baby sister who died when I was a boy. There, I have no more to say; only if you could bring your mind to whisper a prayer, it might go up to .heaven as a peace- offering in my behalf." I did pray as I had never prayed before; and while I knelt at his bedside, humbly asking of God the pardon of his sins, Simon's hand trembled along the covering until it reached page: 244-245[View Page 244-245]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 244-245 244 THE HEMLOCK SWAMP. mine, as they lay folded in prayerful supplication on the counterpane, and there it rested tranquilly, a poor, cold, nerveless hand, with the life all gone out of it. One of those sudden sinking-spells to which he was subject had seized him, and it promised to be the last. A long sighing moan disturbed the quiet of the midnight stillness, and instantly brought Aunt Eunice into the room. "Summon aid without delay, dear aunt, for he is dying," said I, quietly, and in response to her hasty call, nurse and host. came flying in, and a servant was dispatched with all speed to bring the doctor. Useless all: Simon was beyond the need of earthly help. He raised himself with a last dying effort, stretched forth his hand as if'scattering some- thing long hoarded to the winds, and cried in a tone of mingled triumph, menace, and relief: "Take the accursed secret, all of you; I am done with it."- A spasm of pain contracted his features, the uplifted hand fell powerless across his breast, and Simon was dead. Five years afterward I visited my old home in company with my husband and brother, and was received very cordially by my father and his wife. Mrs. Folger was kind enough to say she was willing to let bygones be bygones, and was really glad that Mr. Folger's children had turned out so satisfactorily, for she had endeavored to be a mother to us and bring us up well. Of Simon she said little. He had died suddenly from heart disease at some obscure town in Virginia. His remains were sent home and buried in the family lot. So Simon had his wish, and was laid to rest beside the baby sister who died when he was a boy. The day Archie went with me to the Hemlock Swamp was one fraught with many tender as well as sad memories. -We sat down on the old crooked root and talked of our youth, and the troubles and trials of our older years. To- ^ * ;' THE HEMLOCK SWAMP, 245 gether we walked along the path where Burrill Otley had met his fate, and I pointed out the spot where I had seen Simon unearth his ill-gotten treasure. Only three in all the world knew aught of his crime --Archie, my husband, and myself-and we hold the knowledge sacred, for the dead are not amenable to human laws, and Simon has-gone to render an account of his deeds before a tribunal higher than any of earth, and in the presence of a Judge less impartial in his rulings than those of earthly courts. We eventually made our home in Richmond. It was Archie's wish, and Arke did hot. object; and out of the shadows my life's sun has risen clear and bright, no more to be clouded by a secret like that which darkened my girl- hood. Every summer we visit the White Sulphur Springs; and under the shade of the cypress-tree I repeated to Arke the legend of the Lovers' Leap, and went with him to'the neg- lected old burying-ground on the hill-side, where that strangely sad interview with Simon had taken place. In company we have enjoyed innumerable mountain rides, have listened to the roar of the Falls, and watched the gathering of the storm-clouds, the happiest of the happy, now that our dark days are over. In Archie's beautiful home, sacredly shrined within a pearl and rosewood casket, and reposing on a purple velvet cushion, is a little rusty, battered child's bank-a faded tin toy that he prizes dearly, and would not part with for the world. He often takes his eldest daughter on his knee and tells her the history of the old toy-bank, and of Aunt Eve- leen's noble devotion and self-sacrifice through many years of his life. How she aided him to fortune and subsequently saved him from the danger and disgrace of being implicated in the tragedy of the Hemlock Swamp.