THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 GIFT OF 
 P.Lennox Tierney
 
 WOODBOURNE: 
 
 A Novel cf the Revolutionary Period in Virginia 
 and Maryland. 
 
 Ill TV/0 PARTS. 
 
 BY COLONEL JOSEPH MAYO. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 BALTIMORE: 
 
 PUBLISHED BY JOHX B. PIET & CO., 
 
 174 West Baltimore Street. 
 
 1881.
 
 CopTRion-, 1884, BY COLONEL, JOSEPH MAYO. 
 
 Press of John B. Fiet & Co.
 
 ur 
 
 v/, I 
 
 DEDICATION. 
 
 TO COLOIIEI* ROBERT H. MAYO 
 
 (of Auburn, in the County of Westmoreland, Virginia), 
 as a Slight Token of the Author's Gratitude fcr 
 his numberless aots of more than Brotherly 
 Kindness, this Volume is Affec 
 tionately Inscribed. 
 
 837-179
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 THE principal events recorded in these pages relate to 
 the most interesting epoch of American history. The 
 scene is chiefly confined to a little spot of that "Land 
 within the Capes," which its first explorer has described 
 as bearing the prerogative over the most pleasant places 
 known. In our unambitious narrative, which is con 
 cerned with the fortunes of two or three families, we 
 profess to deal with subjects of general public interest 
 only as they may serve to elucidate the main design. 
 \Ve do not propose to write a society novel, nor yet a 
 pure romance, nor to try and bedizen a prosy array of 
 unimportant events in the trumpery garb of sentimental 
 fancy. Much less shall we undertake to draw an elabor 
 ate picture of the every-day manners and customs of 
 the ancient proverbial cavaliers of Virginia cavaliers still 
 in spite of the disgust which some people affect to have 
 for the name. Yet in giving to the American public 
 our "poor account of rich doings," we deem it emi 
 nently proper to devote a short space to the task of 
 correcting some of the erroneous impressions of our 
 fatherland and its inhabitants which have gone abroad 
 unchallenged over the face of the earth. First and fore 
 most, then, let it be distinctly affirmed that the Vir- 
 
 (v)
 
 VI PEEFACE. 
 
 ginians of that clay were no more Mr. Thuckaray's 
 "Virginians" than is the country in which they chvelt 
 the same which is prefigured in the chart of his fruitful 
 imagination. True, their landed possessions were in 
 several instances as large as many a petty European 
 principality; and the owners of such vast domains were, 
 doubtless, entitled to a? great consideration as any beg 
 garly landgrave or boorish count palatine, yet it is a 
 figment of prurient fancy to suppose that these manorial 
 nabobs all lived in solitary habitations twenty miles apart 
 each from his neighbor, and surrounded by savage wilds 
 where, as the nursery rhymer says, 
 
 " Naked men in forests prowled, 
 And bears and panthers roamed and howled."' 
 
 And whatever may have been their capacity for getting 
 over the ground, they surely were not equal to the task 
 of performing impossible journeys over impassible roads 
 i:i preposterous yellow vehicles, 41 carrying six insides." 
 In all seriousness, if the chief merit of fiction consists, 
 is Macauley has remarked, in its resemblance to a model 
 with Avhich we are already familiar or to which we can 
 constantly re.'cr, in the name of the fairy muse what 
 shall be said of the incongruous brood of extravagan 
 cies which one sees in the Virginia booth of Mr. Tliack 
 aray's teeming bazaar? When Colonel Henry Esmond 
 tho only fine, real gentleman who figures in his own 
 memoirs sought at once refuge from villainous company 
 and balm and solace from go:it and ennui amid the 
 charming solitude of his plantation in Virginia, it is cer 
 tain that he found the moral atmosphere of his new
 
 PREFACE. Vii 
 
 abode to bj :i vast improvement on the mephitic im 
 purities of the grotto-del-cavne, from which he had escaped 
 in a half-asphyxiated condition. Here, at least, he was 
 rid of the beastly Yahoos of Vanity Fair. Here the 
 unsophisticated country people called things by their 
 given names. My Lord Mohun, the grand sachem of the 
 civilized Mohock?, was rated as a consummate ruffian 
 and knave, and the fairest of the frail nymphs of St. 
 Germain's and Soho square was a very Hecate of moral 
 deformity because of the shame, 
 
 " Which, like a canker in the fragrant rose, 
 Did- spot the beauty of her budding name." 
 
 The votaries of fashion, tho roues of the salon and 
 boudoir, the maccaronis of the club-house and the gam 
 bling den, the starveling villipenders of Grub street, the 
 swarms of seedy political pimps, panders and prostitutes, 
 were in their e\*es the same disgusting caricatures of 
 humanity, whether paraded in Steele and Addison's 
 polished periods, or pilloried by Pope and Swift in 
 "Images from the dunghill and lazar house." These 
 were the early and late associates and boon-companions 
 of this courtly chronicler of scandalous small beer, who 
 would make us believe that half the women in England 
 of that day would have been most profitably employed 
 in beating hemp in BriJewell to make "cravats" for 
 three-fourths of the men. The world he has described 
 is that in which the dramatic fancy of Congreve and 
 U'ycherly revelled with delight, where "the women were 
 like profligate, impudent and unfeeling men, and where 
 the men were too bad for any place but Pandemonium 
 and Norfolk Island." What, after all, is this tiresome
 
 Till PREFACE. 
 
 old male gossip, but one of those "coxcomb birds, so 
 talkative and grave," who from his cage pelts the passers- 
 by with ribald words and scurvy jests? 
 
 "Though many a passenger he rightly call, 
 We hold him no philosopher at all.*' 
 
 "With like indignant emphasis do we repudiate the exag 
 gerated portraits of our good ancestors which grace the 
 galleries of certain native artists, who appear to labor 
 under the strange delusion that the subjects of their 
 delineations spent the best part of their lives in stalking 
 around the circle of stiltish, purse-proud arrogance, and 
 swaggering in a "high-kilted" Babylonish dialect, which 
 out-gasconaded Gascony. It is farthest from the truth, 
 moreover, to suppose that the typical Virginian cavalier 
 found his only pleasures in fox-hunting and cock-fighting; 
 carousing in tap-rooms, and wrangling over cards and 
 dice, betting at races, and whispering vapid sentiment 
 in the ear of simpering beauty. On the contrary, he 
 was as exquisitely alive and keenly sensitive as any 
 " mortal mixture of earth's mold ' to those lofty impres 
 sions, and del cate touches of feeling and passion which 
 elevate the soul, expand the intellect, enliven the fancy, 
 kindle in the heart the generous flame of sympathy and 
 love, and strew with flowers the thorny paths of life. 
 And in the hour of severest trial, when Red Battle's 
 stern alarum rung out over hill and dale, he approved 
 himself a manly, robust, bold and independent freeman, 
 who bared his bosom to the howling storm and recked 
 not of danger and sacrifice iu his country's cause. Of 
 Toryism, as the term was applied during th.3 Revolt-
 
 PREFACE. IX 
 
 tionary era, there -was little or nothing in this part of 
 the Old Dominion. A'.l classes and conditions of the peo 
 ple were more nearly united in thought, feeling and 
 purpose than had been the case in any civil disturbance 
 previously recorded in English history. Still, there were 
 not a few among the wealthy and most influential plan 
 ters Avho dreaded to cut loose all of a sudden from the 
 ancient moorings and set out on a voyage of explora 
 tion "in thick weather on an unknown sea." They were 
 not able by a single eftbrt to break the ties, "light as 
 air and strong as links of iron," which bound them to 
 the time-honored institutions, hoary traditions, and imme 
 morial usages of their fathers. They cherished a fond 
 veneration of the aristocratic and monarchical features 
 of the constitution, for the canons of property and laws 
 of descent, for the wholesome restrictions upon the 
 elective franchise and the right to hold office, and in 
 regarding the freedom and safety of the subject as the 
 origin and cause of all laws ; they nevertheless believed 
 that the principles to which they were so ardently attached 
 afforded the only secure bulwarks and muniments of right 
 and justice. They read, with avidity, the letters of 
 Junius, and applauded the burning utterances of Burke 
 and Chatham; but they were not prepared to receive, 
 without debate, the precepts of the sage of Gunston, 
 nor to hear without trepidation the inspired voice of the 
 SEEU, "\vhose thunder shook the Philip of the Seas." 
 As hostilities advanced, their minds were gradually 
 changed, and they became in the end zealous supporters 
 of the cause of American freedom. To the influence of 
 this class wise, prudent, high-minded and determined
 
 X PREFACE. 
 
 men was mainly due the auspicious result that, in the 
 formation of the Republic, the spirit of innovation was 
 restrained within the confines of just and rational re 
 form. 
 
 But our " prolegomenon " is growing into a tedious his 
 torical dissertation. Xot to make too sudden a "pull-up," 
 we take occasion to repeat that in the following pages 
 we have striven to produce a popular work of fiction 
 which should be catholic in spirit, national in tone, free 
 from sectional and sectarian bias and prejudice, and con 
 taining not a word or thought, hint or allusion, of ques 
 tionable propriety. As such it is kindly commended to 
 the appreciative consideration of the American people.
 
 I. 
 
 CHAPTER. PAGE 
 
 I, - 1 
 
 II, 13 
 
 III, - - 27 
 
 IV, 4G 
 V, - - Cl 
 
 VI, 73 
 
 VII, - - 80 
 
 VIII, 91 
 
 IX, - - 9'J 
 
 X, 112 
 
 XI, - - 123 
 
 XIF, 13G 
 
 XIII, - - 153 
 
 XIV, 163 
 XV, - - 183 
 
 XVI, 195 
 
 XVII, - ... 200 
 
 XVIII, 20G 
 
 XIX, 215
 
 WOODBOUB.NE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 NE of her own native bards lias sung ia 
 mournful numbers the miseries of "hap 
 less Caledonia," doomed to reap the bit 
 terest fruits of the last bloody harvest of 
 internecine strife which ripened in gory ghastliness 
 on the soil of Britain. It is no horrid dream of 
 phrenzied imagination, the tragic picture we are 
 gazing upon ; but the frightful reality of calamitous 
 vroe, fell-born progeny of the grisly demon of civil 
 discord and fratricidal rage. 
 
 Scotland, indeed, was made to feel its keenest 
 pangs; but the terrible scourge did not confine its 
 ravages to her ill-fated borders. It carried desola 
 tion and mourning to many a happy English home, 
 and everywhere inflicted great gaping wounds on 
 the bosom of society, which, for long years to come, 
 broke out and bled afresh at the whisper of some 
 name of hateful memory and portentous sound.
 
 2 WOODBOUKXE. 
 
 Have they been wholly healed by the great physi 
 cian, Time ? For the sake of all that humanity 
 holds dear, let us so hope and believe. Who so 
 basely vile and malevolent as would wish to see 
 again the fiery signal of insurrection cast its bale 
 ful gleam across that fair horizon, whence the 
 genius of Christian civilization from its island 
 throne instructs the nations in the victorious arts 
 of Peace. 
 
 It is necessary, for the elucidation of these pages, 
 for us to take a flying trip across the ocean. We 
 are now in the midst of the beautiful region which 
 has been appropriately styled the Arcadia of Scot 
 land. The scene is a small villa near the banks 
 of Leven Water; and time, an evening in the leafy 
 month of June, in the year 1753. It has been 
 raining a passing thunder shower. The sun has 
 just come forth from his vapory bath, and every 
 bush and brake is hailing his reappearance with 
 warbling paeans of surpassing melody. The fleecy 
 clouds, all radiant with prismatic glories, are slowly 
 trooping towards the east, and the last faint peal 
 of heaven's artillery reverberates far down the vale. 
 On . every twig and blade of grass the pearly rain 
 drops are sparkling bright; the air is laden with 
 the rich perfume of blossoming flowers; on the 
 mountains the heather blooms with a deeper pur 
 ple, and the dimpling wavelets of the limpid stream 
 dance merrily in the shimmering sunlight. 
 
 Two ladies are seated at an open window which 
 commands a delightful prospect, embracing the most 
 bewitching features of the extensive landscape. One 
 is old; yet the frosts of age have not chilled her
 
 WOODBOURNE. 3 
 
 heart, which speaks in the look of tender affection 
 and solicitude with which she is regarding her com 
 panion. The latter lady is in the early prime and 
 loveliness of charming womanhood. Her face wears 
 an expression of sadness, which appears to be for 
 eign to her natural disposition. She is resting her 
 chin on one hand; in the other is an open letter, 
 and her large, grey eyes, moist with springing teifrs, 
 are gazing absently at the distant cloud-pavilioned 
 crag towards which the sun is rapidly declining. To 
 a long and earnest conversation, which was not with 
 out painful interest to the young lady, there had 
 ensued a silence of some moments' duration. It was 
 broken by the elder lady. 
 
 "All happens for the best, my child," she said, 
 meeting an outburst of disappointment with the 
 golden commonplace of old age's proverbial philoso 
 phy. "I was convinced from the first that the 
 effort would prove fruitless; yet I did not try to 
 dissuade you from making it, because I knew you 
 would not be satisfied until you had done every 
 thing in your power to discover what was your 
 brother's fate; now your mind is at ease on that 
 account. You cannot justly reproach yourself with 
 having left undone anything which sisterly affection 
 and duty commanded you to do, and you will soon 
 forget this heavy affliction in your new home, amid 
 untried scenes and cares." 
 
 " It is impossible for me ever to forget it, dear 
 aunt," replied the other lady; "but with God's help 
 it shall not be the means of bringing a single pang 
 of unhappiness to others. True, as you say, there 
 is an end of my long cherished hope; this letter
 
 4 WOODBOURXE. 
 
 assures me of it ; but I must beg you to repeat the 
 story over again as Uncle Leslie heard it from the 
 dying lips of our cousin. Duncan Campbell; I fain 
 would impress every syllable of it on my memory 
 in indellible characters. It may seem to be a weak 
 and frivolous fancy to you, and I am certainly 
 unable to explain it; yet only a witness from the 
 grave can dispel the strange tormenting presenti 
 ment I have that my brother escaped alive from 
 that bloody field." 
 
 "If such was the incredulous state of your mind, 
 Ellen, after having once heard Duncan's clear story," 
 said her aunt, gravely, " I do not see what good 
 can come of worrying yourself with trying to remem 
 ber it. However, you know best. Perhaps it may 
 in time dispel the wicked illusion which harasses 
 you with constant anxiety, and to gratify you, I 
 will relate the story once more as your uncle told 
 it to me. Poor Duncan! he was another dear vic 
 tim of that sinful rebellion. Oh, those wretched 
 times! how it makes me shudder to revive the 
 recollection of them. I must te brief, my dear, for 
 it is not pleasant to dwell on this painful subject. 
 Duncan, as you are aware, was serving on the staff 
 of his kinsman, the Duke of Argyle. He had learned 
 that your brother, whom he loved dearly, had, in 
 a freak of madness, left Oxford and enlisted with 
 the Chevalier's party at Derby; and all the time 
 the battle was going on at Culloden he was look 
 ing everywhere for the miserable boy to take him 
 prisoner, believing that with Argyle's influence there 
 would be no difficulty in getting a pardon for him. 
 It was not until the battle was over, and the poor
 
 WOODBOUBH& 5 
 
 misguided rebels Avere flying in every direction, 
 that he came upon the object of his search. A 
 little band of the bravest of Charles Edwards' fol 
 lowers, seeing the day was lost, had made a gal 
 lant stand in order to enable their leader to make 
 good his escape; with them was your brother. Hist 
 hat was gone, and a stream of blood was pouring 
 from a ghastly wound on his head, and he fought 
 as one fights who courts death on the field, of 
 battle. Brave boy, alas! alas! that he should have 
 been reserved for such a fate," Aunt Leslie paused 
 to wipe the gathering moisture from her eyes, while 
 her niece, with a convulsive sob, buried her face 
 in her hands, as seeking to shut out the horrible 
 saene. "Duncan," resumed the old lady, "as soon 
 as he saw his cousin, pressed eagerly towards him 
 through the thickest of the fray. Presently, he 
 beheld him suddenly reel in his saddle and fall to 
 the ground ; at the same instant he himself was 
 struck in the breast by the fatal bullet and borne 
 away lifeless, as was thought, from the field, "When, 
 he returned to consciousness he found himself lying 
 upon a pallet of straw in a farm house close to 
 the battle-ground, and in the first words that he 
 spoke he begged them to go and search for your 
 brother, describing as well as he could the spot 
 where he had seen him fall. His entreaties were 
 promptly obeyed. A diligent search was made for 
 the body; it was not found. Still Duncan was not 
 satisfied. Next day, at his request, a squad of men 
 were detailed by the Duke's order to prosecute the 
 unavailing search, and when the officer in charge 
 of them, who was selected by Duncan himself, 
 i*
 
 G TVOODBOURNE. 
 
 reported another failure, the poor lad at last 
 despaired of ever finding his unfortunate kinsman's 
 remains. His own wound was mortal; he was taken 
 home, where he lived only a short month more. 
 In his dying hour his mind wandered back to the 
 terrible battlefield, and Henry's name was the last 
 word his lips were heard to speak. And now, 
 Ellen, since all efforts to find your brother have 
 been in vain, we are forced to conclude, after list 
 ening to this circumstantial narration, that he was 
 numbered among the dead on that woful day at 
 Culloden Muir. Tell me, my love, what did John 
 say when h3 heard your tragical story?" 
 
 A sudden glow, rivalling the tints of the sky 
 she had been looking upon, mantled the beautiful 
 face of the young lady, and her tearful eye shone 
 with a brightness which was akin to rapture. 
 
 " Oh, aunt ! " she exclaimed, " I imagined before 
 that I loved and respected him with my whole 
 heart, but I never dreamed of falling at his feet 
 and worshipping him until that moment. When I 
 saw him looking at me with such an expression 
 of love and sympathy and tender compassion, no 
 words can portray. I could not help crying as 
 though my heart was breaking, while all the time 
 it Avas running over with joy and gratitude. It 
 was very weak and foolish, but he knew the cause 
 so noble and good, so gentle and considerate. Then 
 we quietly talked it all over again, and agreed that 
 it was best for the happiness of others that it 
 should remain forever a sealed chapter in the book 
 of our wedded lives." 
 
 "I am truly rejoiced to hear yon speak of John
 
 WOODBOURNE. 7 
 
 in that way, my dear child," replied Mrs. Leslie; 
 " he was always a great favorite with me from a 
 boy. You were rather slow to consult me, but he 
 is the man of all others I would have picked 
 out for your husband. Yet I am sadly loth to 
 give you up, for I know I shall never see you 
 again in this world, you will be so far away. How 
 many miles did John say it was to Virginia?" 
 
 " He said thousands, aunt, I do not remember 
 how many; but I feel as though I were really 
 going to live in a world which had nothing in 
 common with this. It grieves me sorely to think 
 of having to part with you, my dearest aunt you, 
 who are the sole remaining tie which binds me 
 to my native land. You must not then believe I 
 am cold and unfeeling because I long to be quickly 
 transported to those scenes I have never yet beheld, 
 where lies my future home, together with all my 
 hopes of peace and happiness on this earth. My 
 mind is so constantly employed with contemplating 
 the new career which opens before me, that I feel 
 inspired with energies and aspirations and desires 
 of which I have hitherto been unconscious. It is 
 good to know that I was not made to mope and 
 pine in indolent apathy and corroding sorrow. There 
 is the germ of real, earnest, strong and courageous 
 stuff in my nature my birthright and only inher 
 itance, which, when transplanted to a more generous 
 soil, and fostered with loving care, will one day burst 
 into the full flower of domestic usefulness. Hence, 
 it is natural that I should hail with exceeding joy 
 the approach of the time appointed for me to assume 
 the dignity and responsibility of wifehood, and strive
 
 8 WOODBOUltNE. 
 
 to become as one whose 'husband is known in the 
 gates where he sitteth among the rulers of the land.' 
 For all that, dearest aunt, my heart is none the 
 less warm for you and yours, and whatever he 
 may say, I am sure there is no place in America 
 can compare in beauty with this lovely spot." 
 
 As she spoke a bird flew down from a neigh 
 boring tree, and alighting on a spray of woodbine 
 close by the window, carolled forth a single note 
 of enchanting sweetness. In a moment it was gone. 
 It had come to say good-bye to the pretty lady, 
 and to give her that little gem of song for a 
 keepsake. 
 
 "Nor any music like the song of the mavis, my 
 dear," said Aunt Leslie. "Do you believe John's 1 
 wonderful tales of the mocking birds in Virginia! 
 But of course you do, and all he says about tha 
 beautiful flowers growing wild in the woods. Speak 
 ing of them, the woods, you must promise me, 
 Ellen, not to venture to go into them unless John 
 goes with you. It was only the other day that I 
 heard our neighbor Smollett telling of a little girl, 
 the daughter of a friend who was living in Vir 
 ginia somewhere or Jamaica, I am not certain which, 
 but it is all one, who had gone out to hunt for 
 flowers in the forest, and " 
 
 "Was murdered and scalped by the hideous sav 
 ages ! " cried the young lady in a voice of affected 
 horror. 
 
 "Not so terrible as that." 
 
 " Bitten by one of those frightful rattlesnakes ! " 
 
 "Not so, either; don't interrupt me, child. As 
 I was saying, the girl was lost in the woods,
 
 WOODBOUKNE. 9 
 
 and when they found her, after looking ever so 
 many hours, she was fast asleep under a huge tree, 
 and her clothes were literally torn to tatters." 
 
 The effect of this fearful climacteric showed that 
 the young lady was not wanting in a keen per 
 ception of the ludicrous. 
 
 " Why, aunt," she exclaimed, with a ringing laugh, 
 which chased away the shadow from her pensive 
 brow, "I was on the tenter-hooks for some awful 
 catastrophe, and lo! and behold, it is only a story 
 of one poor babe in the woods with the dear lit 
 tle redbreasts left out. Do not be uneasy on my 
 account; the flowers may <a' wede away' in their 
 native wilds for me; it is the thought of crossing 
 the great ocean which really alarms my fancy, and 
 if I get safely through the 'vexed Bermoothes/ 
 there is no danger of my being lost in the jun 
 gles of Virginia. But, oh ! aunt, just behold the 
 sunset; could anything be more magnificent? I 
 shall carry that away with me among my heart's 
 treasures, and," she inaudibly added, "the recollec 
 tion of the dear, sweet face which is turning to 
 look at it, will abide with me as a joy forever- 
 more." 
 
 Aunt Leslie was touched. 
 
 "It is indeed a beautiful sight, my dearest child," 
 she fervently responded. " I earnestly pray it may 
 prove to be the emblem of the evening of a long 
 and happy life to you." 
 
 Again the ready tears gathered in Ellen's lovely 
 eyes. She hastily rose, and throwing her arms about 
 her aunt's neck, kissed her affectionately; then she 
 knelt reverently at her side. Mrs. Leslie softly
 
 10 WOODBOURNE. 
 
 drew the sweet suppliant's head towards her until 
 it rested on her bosom, and raising her eyes to 
 heaven, besought its guidance and protection for 
 the lonely orphan who was about to tempt the 
 perils of the deep, to find among strangers, in a 
 strange land, the haven of rest and happiness she 
 had looked for in vain in a country where every 
 object she beheld was tinged with the dark hue of 
 a sorrowful remembrance. 
 
 They had remained for a short while in this 
 prayerful attitude, when the sound of carriage wheels 
 was heard approaching the house. 
 
 "The gentlemen have returned, Ellen," said Mrs. 
 Leslie, "and soon the friends who are coming to 
 take leave of you will be here. It is time you 
 were dressing for the parlor. There, dry your eyes, 
 and keep the rest of your tears for the hour of 
 parting. John will expect you to wear your warm 
 est smiles to-night, as to-morrow is your wedding- 
 day." 
 
 The young lady calmed her agitated feelings as 
 promptly as she could, and proceeded to comply 
 with her aunt's injunction. But before leaving the 
 room, she turned once more to the window, and 
 her glance lingered in a last fond farewell on the 
 beloved images of her girlhood's home. The next 
 morning John .Graeme and Ellen Campbell were 
 married, and ere another sun had set they are 
 miles away on their journey to Glasgow, where the 
 ship was waiting which was destined to bear them 
 safely to their pleasant home in the Old Dominion. 
 
 Twenty years or more have come and gone. The 
 good Aunt Leslie has been gathered to her fathers 
 these many days; but her prayers have been an-
 
 WOODBOURisE. 11 
 
 lowered. The junior partner of the famous mer 
 cantile house of Ballantine & Graeme has prospered 
 amazingly, and Ellen has found a home which fills 
 the measure of anticipated happiness to the very 
 brim. They call their house Bonhill, in honor of 
 Mr. Graeme's old friend and school fellow, the 
 author of Peregrine Pickle and the Ode to Leven 
 Water. It is a lovely place, and whilst we do its 
 sweet mistress the justice to state that she does 
 not fail on occasion to speak in becoming terms 
 of admiration of the Arcadian delights, the bonny 
 burnsides, the flowery braes and fragrant spreading 
 shaws she left behind her in the Land o' Cakes, 
 she assuredly appreciates none the less the glowing 
 charms of this favored clime. She readily admits 
 that the gorgeous splendors of the autumnal even 
 tide in Virginia are enchanting beyond anything 
 her imagination had foretold, and that the mock 
 ing-bird is a very marvel of feathered symphony. 
 As for the wild flowers, she argues that they flour 
 ish most bonnily in their native parterres, among 
 the rich meadows, the thorny brakes and bosky 
 hill-slopes; but she prefers to have a garden of 
 her own, 
 
 And the jessamine sweet, and the sweet tuberose, 
 The sweetest flower for scent that blows, 
 And all rare blossoms from every clime 
 Grow in that garden in perfect prime. 
 
 But there are no dusky mountains bristling with 
 furze and gorse; no crystal river warbling over its 
 pebbly bed, only the wooded hills and chalky cliffs 
 of Stratford, and the placid blue waters of the 
 noble Potomac mirroring the bluer sky. And instead
 
 12 WOODBOURXE. 
 
 ot the nut-brown lassie trilling her simple love- 
 song over the pail, we can hear, if we like, Aunt 
 Dinah's doleful baritone drowsily crooning some 
 eldritch catch, as she lazily plies her evening care 
 of milking the cows. The last comparison, how 
 ever, is entirely gratuitous, not to say impertinent. 
 Mrs. Graeme was happily possessed of a rare talent 
 for music, and had diligently improved the gift, and 
 the barbarous ditty of milkmaid, brown or black, 
 was harsh discord to her sensitive ear. 
 
 Taken all in all, the lot of Ellen Graeme had 
 been such as does not fall to many in this vale 
 of tears, even when we debit the account of hap 
 piness with the sorrows and privations of her child 
 hood's years. From the moment she set foot on 
 the threshold of her new home until now, she had 
 known but one great affliction, in the death of her 
 oldest child, a bright little blossom of three years 
 plucked from its parent stem to deck the heavenly 
 bowers; and she lived to see the son and daughter, 
 with whom she was afterwards blest, grow up under 
 her watchful eye, and become all that a mother's 
 heart could desire. Her cup of rejoicing was then 
 full, crowned, overflowing. Nobly had she earned the 
 sweet reward of woman's highest earthly ambition 
 ' her children arise up and call her blessed; her 
 husband also, and he praiseth her." And John 
 Graeme's praise was no holiday compliment; it was 
 the constant, free, unstinted offering of tenderest 
 love and unfailing sympathy. While he did his 
 duty to his neighbor as a God-fearing man should 
 do, and was in the truest sense a lather to his 
 children, to his wife he gave the unmeasured devo 
 tion of his loyal, manly heart.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 a bright evening in the early part of 
 the month of November, 1775, a gentle 
 man on horseback, approaching at a can 
 ter the brow of the gently sloping decliv 
 ity which overlooks N Ferry, drew rein so 
 
 suddenly that he seemed to have been riveted to 
 the spot by the wand of enchantment. 
 
 Now we protest, most ungentle of critics, there 
 is nothing in this simple prologue to provoke that 
 derisive ejaculation. Go on with the story, and you 
 will presently discover that our cavalier is quite 
 another sort of person from the hackneyed creature 
 you are thinking of. That far from being one of 
 those fantastic images with which the genius of 
 romance has peopled its realm of shadows, yonder 
 solitary horseman is fully endued with the prop 
 erties of mortal flesh and blood, however much he 
 may be destined to excel the vulgar herd of human 
 kind. Erect and motionless as a statue, he could 
 not have assumed a better attitude were he con 
 scious of having his picture taken by the cleverest 
 of modern photographers. The subject is worthy 
 the pencil of Apelles ; but in the absence of the 
 divine artist, we Avill try our profane hand at a 
 rough and ready sketch. 
 
 2 (13)
 
 14 WOODBOURXE. 
 
 First of all, it is evident that our traveler is 
 decidedly youthful, as his cheek, ruddy-brown from 
 exposure to sun and breeze, is smooth and dim 
 pled as a damsel in her teens, and his chin is 
 innocent of even the rudiments of a beard. At a 
 venture, one might say he was a little the rise of 
 twenty years old. He is a trifle larger than what 
 would be thought the middle size at his age; his 
 form is at once lithe, graceful and compact, and 
 he is withal strikingly fair and comely in every 
 feature and lineament, gesture and glance. For his 
 dress, he is neatly habited in a fashionable drab- 
 colored riding suit, tipped off with plain double 
 gilt buttons, and in lieu of boots his nether limbs 
 are enveloped in a pair of yellow buckskin leg 
 gings, which reach nighly to his hips. Like proof 
 of unostentatious refinement is observed in the hat 
 he has on, which is entirely divested of the tawdry 
 embellishments so profusely worn by the young 
 fops of the day. The accoutrements of his horse, 
 a superb bay gelding, meet in all respects for so 
 gallant a rider, are of simple and substantial Eng 
 lish workmanship, without ornament of any kind. 
 His pose is the perfection of ideal elegance and 
 ease, betraying in every respect, from the grasp of 
 the nervous hand on the tightened rein, to the 
 light, airy touch of the foot on the polished stirrup, 
 A very prince of the manege whose throne is the 
 saddle. Gathered in a roll, and strapped behind 
 the saddle, is a blue cloth surtout, and thus scan 
 tily equipped it is easily inferred that our cavalier 
 is not going a very long journey. Leisure enough, 
 too, he seems to have for indulging the poetical
 
 1VOODBOURNE. 15 
 
 sensations awakened by the glorious panorama which 
 has broken upon him like a vision of fairy land. 
 And surely a lovelier, softer, and more gorgeous land 
 scape never inspired the exquisite soul of Italian 
 art. On this particular occasion, two rare circum 
 stances conspired to give additional charm to the 
 scene. The evening was as calm as an infant's 
 sleep, so that the numberless sounds of rustic music 
 floated, mellowed and sweetly modulated, on the 
 downy bosom of the atmosphere. Then the season 
 had been unusually mild, and the fields and for 
 ests had not yet surrendered their rich treasures to 
 the ravages of "chill November's surly blast"; 
 but bedecked in all the splendor of their many 
 lined liveries, they displayed the ecstatic harmony 
 of colors which is the unreached paradise of the 
 painter's despair. Here and there on the summit of 
 a gentle eminence the gable, roof or other portion 
 of a dwelling house peered forth from a bowery 
 of embosoming groves, and across the open fields 
 an occasional herd of kine soberly wended their 
 way to the evening fold. Away in the distance 
 the majestic "river of swans," its broad face glow 
 ing with delight, was enjoying with supreme satis 
 faction the interval of unwonted repose, and at 
 
 your feet the modest little N" , pursuing its 
 
 gently winding way round headland and cliff, 
 appeared like a chain of silvery lakes, whose bright 
 mirrors gave back with, enhanced glory the ravish 
 ing loveliness they imbibed. Over all this scene 
 of varied beauty the slowly sinking sun of an 
 Indian summer spread its indescribable sheen, and 
 earth and sky vied with each other to produce
 
 16 WOODBOUKNE. 
 
 such a masterpiece of Nature's handiwork as would 
 have kindled adoration in the heart of the coldest 
 skeptic. 
 
 Not many moments was our susceptible cavalier 
 permitted to remain in rapt contemplation of this 
 beautiful picture, for now his ear has caught a 
 familiar sound, that, rising gradually above the 
 drowsy hum and gathering volume as it approached, 
 burst all at once so clear and resonant on the 
 still air as to send the blood rushing through his 
 veins in a torrent of wild cxhiliration. Partaking 
 the same enthusiasm, the noble courser gave a 
 great bound forward, and before rider could recover 
 his seat and bring the full force of the curb to 
 bear, was speeding away in the direction of the 
 inspiring sound. 
 
 Moralists may homilize to their hearts' content, 
 but there is no enjoyment so intense and tumul- 
 tuos to man and horse as the intoxicating revelry 
 of the chase. Checking his impatient steed, and 
 galloping back to his post of observation, the 
 young gentleman reached it just in time to see a 
 pack of hounds emerge from the cover of the 
 forest into a large field a short distance beyond the 
 river. In a twinkling they have crossed it, and 
 are again lost to view in the pine thickets which 
 adorn the river's edge with an emerald fringe. 
 Straight after them, trailing one behind another, 
 comes a party of fifteen or twenty huntsmen. As 
 they cross the plain, most of those in rear come 
 up on a line with the one in front and some pass 
 him, so that it is now become a headlong race for 
 .he prize which woodland heroes so ardently covet.
 
 WOODBOURXE. 17 
 
 Many a ditch, both broad and deep, traverses the 
 field, but these are easily cleared at a flying leap 
 by the whole chasing troop. A more serious obstacle 
 interposes in the shape of an ugly worm-fence, 
 high and bristling with jagged stakes and uncouth 
 riders. At sight of this formidable barrier, all but 
 two of the eager sportsmen prudently abate their 
 speed and look about them for a safe gap in the 
 fence. The twain more adventurous than, the rest, 
 or else having greater confidence in the -vaulting 
 qualities of their steeds, keep straight ahead in 
 their hurrying career, fierce competitors for the 
 honor of being first in at the death. They are 
 abreast, though some paces apart. At this stage 
 of the sport, the looker-on from the hill fairly 
 brims over with excitement; but it does not appear, 
 from the tenor of his exclamations, that he would 
 have those two madcaps desist from their dare 
 devil attempt. 
 
 " That's Dick Alloway on the sorrel ; but who 
 can the other fellow be? No matter; ten to one 
 neither of them makes the leap. You and I could 
 do it, old boy," addressing his horse, which at the 
 moment looked the image of a "fiery Pegasus;" 
 "and we are the only pair in the county. By 
 George ! they are over it. Splendid ! splendid ! " 
 
 Sure enough, there they were, over the fence as 
 clear as a whistle, and off like the wind neck and 
 neck for the woods, into which they soon disap 
 pear. The more sober gaited of the party, having 
 abandoned the contest for the prize, follow on each 
 according to his whim. Presently, the blast of a 
 horn announces the catastrophe, and as its echoes 
 2*
 
 18 . WOODBOURNE. 
 
 die away along the hills a deeper quiet than ever 
 settles down upon the scene. Huntsmen and hounds 
 have vanished like a dream from sight and hearing, 
 and our traveler, recovering himself, replaces the hat 
 which he had snatched from his head in the excite 
 ment of the moment, gives the rein to his mettle 
 some steed, and goes on his way at a bounding pace. 
 Crossing the ferry, a mile or so beyond the river, 
 just as the last rays of the sun lingered on the 
 tree tops, he turned off abruptly from the high 
 way he was pursuing into the depth of a large 
 virgin forest. He had gone but a short way in 
 his new direction, when he was startled by a noise 
 which resembled, in thrilling intensity and pro 
 longed horror, the war-whoop of an Indian savage; 
 but as the last relic of the interesting race of 
 yore had long ago disappeared from these once 
 familiar haunts, of course the sound could net be 
 referred to any such alarming source. Stopping 
 his horse, he sought an explanation of the rude 
 clamor which, judging by the effect on his own 
 nerves, had so frightened the peaceful denizens of 
 the silvan bowers from their propriety. He was 
 not long in ascertaining that it proceeded from a 
 pair of lusty lungs bawling away at a song with 
 a stentorian gusto which set at defiance all the 
 laws of melodious concord. The words of the 
 obstreperous ditty betrayed the vocalist's zest for 
 the noblest of manly sports. Here is a specimen, 
 as near as we could come at the words: 
 
 On yonder bill there sits a hare, 
 Oppressed with sorrow, grief and care, 
 Because her prospects are so bare ; 
 ITalloo, boys, halloo !
 
 WOODBOURNE. 19 
 
 The refrain being rendered at a pitch that made 
 the woods to ring, and set the owls to screeching 
 and hooting in mocking chorus./ It was this 
 unearthly diapason, which might have been likened 
 unto the hideous yell of the lurking red devil as 
 he springs from his lair, and the next moment the 
 gleaming tomahawk hurtles through the air and 
 crashes into the skull of the unsuspecting way 
 farer. But to our sprightly cavalier there is some 
 thing irresistibly ludicrous in the mixed concourse 
 of diabolical sounds, and he greets the nnlooked 
 for serenade with a loud peal of laughter. Then, 
 as the lines come so pat, he cannot forbear to 
 shout them out at the top of his voice: 
 
 ''S'.lence, ye wolves, while Ralph to Cynthia howls. 
 And makes night hideous ; answer him, ye owls ! " 
 
 "In Saint Hubert's name, Dickon, stop your hor 
 rible racket; you have scared the 'molly-cottontails' 
 out of their wits." The adjuration Avas addressed 
 to the owner of the enviable lungs, who now 
 appeared to view in the person of another horse 
 man coming along a bridle-path through the woods 
 a big-boned, strong-limbed, young giant he was, 
 with such a wilderness of light-colored hair about 
 his face and neck that scarcely anything could be 
 seen of his features. So much as was visible 
 showed extremely prepossessing,, and the careless, 
 free-and-easy abandon of his mien, as Avell as the 
 merry light which danced and sparkled in his 
 clear, blue eyes, betokened a heart which was on 
 the best terms with itself, and all the world 
 beside. He was encased in buckskin cap-a-pie, save
 
 20 WOODBOURNE. 
 
 that he wore the stoutest of high-topped boots that 
 ever "skelpit through dub and mire." A large 
 silver-mounted horn hung by a cord under his 
 arm, at his saddle bow was displayed the trophy 
 which proclaimed him victor in the day's hunt, 
 and a brace of fagged and foot-sore fox hounds of 
 the genuine "black St. Hubert's breed" limped at 
 his horse's heels. 
 
 "Why, Harry," exclaimed the newcomer, as he 
 rode up and shook the traveler warmly by the 
 hand, "where did you drop from; is this the way 
 you keep promises ? We looked for you to join 
 us to-day without fail that was your word." 
 
 " If I lived and nothing happened," replied his 
 merry companion, whom we introduce as young 
 Henry Carleton, of that ilk. "You may be sure it 
 was not my fault, Dick, that I did not give you 
 a tilt for the brush I see you have there. My 
 father, who is just returned from Eichmond, 
 detained me all morning writing letters for him, 
 until it was too late for me to take part in your 
 hunt. You may see I was in trim for the fray/'* 
 pointing to his nether garment. 
 
 "Well," replied Alloway, accepting his friend's 
 explanation, "I am delighted to see you all the 
 same, though you certainly did miss a glorious 
 treat just one uproarious frolic from beginning to 
 end ; men, dogs and horses perfectly frantic with 
 delight," and with true sportman's enthusiasm, he 
 launched forth in an animated description of the 
 chase, as they rode on together. 
 
 " Oh, I witnessed the grand closing scene from 
 the ferry hill," said Carleton, interrupting the flow
 
 WOODBOURNE. 21 
 
 of Somervilian eloquence. "Tell me, who was the 
 spruce-looking fellow on the gallant grey, who 
 seemed to be pushing you so hard for the prize?" 
 
 "Pushing me so hard? You may well say that," 
 replied Alloway, "for if his horse had not tripped 
 over a hanging vine and tumbled the fine gentle 
 man over its head, he would have undoubtedly 
 won the race by several lengths. He wasn't a 
 bit hurt by the fall ; but you should have heard 
 him swear at his horse in the most outlandish 
 gibberish, as if the poor animal could help the 
 vine's being in the way. Who is he ? That's pre 
 cisely what I would like to find out; none of the 
 party knew anything about him. He landed among 
 us right out of the clouds ; pitched like fury into 
 the sport without asking anybody's leave, and when 
 it was over he vanished in a flash no one saw 
 whither." 
 
 Carleton. "What's he like, this terrible hobgoblin 
 of the chase?" 
 
 Alloway. "Oh, good enough looking, for that 
 matter, if he wasn't so infernally black I don't 
 mean his skin, which is none of the fairest his 
 eyes and hair, especially his eyes they looked like 
 two great lumps of charcoal with the light shining 
 through 'em, and Jupiter! how the sparks flew out 
 of 'em when his horse threw him like a whole 
 blazing pile of hickory logs spitting fire all at 
 once. One thing I must say for the fellow, he 
 certainly knows how to sit a horse, and had he 
 not shown a spice of the devil in his temper, I 
 would have desired better acquaintance, instead of 
 leaving him and his horse to settle their little 
 misunderstanding the best way they could."
 
 22 WOODBOURXE. 
 
 Carle/on. "Xow, you have described an Italian 
 brigand or other sort of gentleman-like cutthroat." 
 
 The big sportsman jerked up his shoulders in 
 sign of contempt, and would have replied, doubt 
 less, in a manner the gesture implied, had not the 
 sharp crack of a rifle close by cut short the col 
 loquy. At the same instant a squirrel came bound 
 ing from an overhanging limb a rod in front of 
 them, and had barely touched the ground before a 
 stout, half-grown stripling sprang into the road, gun 
 in hand, and, snatching up the game, held it aloft 
 in triumph, his face betokening the liveliest pleas/ire. 
 
 "Well shot, Archie," exclaimed Alloway; "from 
 a rest, I'll wager." 
 
 "Indeed it was not, Mr. Alloway, it was a fair 
 off-hand shot, and I did not see anything but its 
 head, either," protested the youth, pointing to the 
 wound behind the creature's ear. 
 
 "I only jested," replied Alloway; "it is not the 
 first proof I have had of your marksmanship. But 
 it is too late for another shot; come, mount behind, 
 I am going to take you home with 'me." 
 
 "No, thank you, Mr. Alloway," replied the lad, 
 "I have not been out on a regular hunt; I just 
 came on an errand for father, and must hasten 
 back. He says he wants you to come over early 
 in the morning and attend to that little matter he 
 spoke to you about several days ago; I suppose you 
 know what it is, I am sure I do not." 
 
 " Oh, yes, I understand," said Alloway ; " say to 
 your father that I will be on hand between nine 
 and ten o'clock, and be sure and tell your mother 
 it was my fault that you did not get home to 
 supper."
 
 WOODBOURXE. 23 
 
 "Oh, I'll bo there by candle-light," laughingly 
 exclaimed the boy, as he bounded away through 
 the woods like a deer. 
 
 "A pretty youth, Dick," said Carleton, as they 
 resumed their journey; "who is he?" 
 
 " The very question I was asking myself for the 
 hundredth time," replied Alloway. "Archie is a 
 fine, manly little fellow; I wish I knew more about 
 him." 
 
 Carleton. " Not know who the boy is ? why you 
 seem well acquainted with his father." 
 
 Alloway. "There's the quandary; Archie is a fos 
 ter-child. If I only could muster courage to ask 
 the collector." 
 
 Carleton. "The collector? Pray Avhat new riddle 
 is that, you incorrigible sphinx?" 
 
 Allowaij. "The collector, the great exciseman, the 
 tax -gathering plenipotentiary of our Caesar- Augustus; 
 who else could it be but old Jake Thompson, the 
 most redoubtable tory inside of the capes." 
 
 Carleton. "I have frequently heard of the eccen 
 tric Mr. Jacob Thompson, but not by that for 
 midable designation." 
 
 Alloway. "And you never heard how he earned 
 the title? Ah, I remember, you Avere at college 
 when it happened. Mr. Lee was addressing a large 
 gathering of the rebellious clans at the court house, 
 when Mr. Thompson suddenly burst in among the 
 crowd, boiling over with indignation. He called 
 the speaker a vile incendiary, traitor, demagogue, 
 and the like, and warned the people not to listen 
 to his seditious harangue. Parliament, he said, not 
 only had the right to tax them, but ought to tax
 
 24 WOODBOURXE. 
 
 them till they groaned; it was a glorious privilege 
 to pay tribute to such a beneficent government, 
 and if his blessed majesty would only make him 
 collector-general of his dominions in America, he 
 would teach his refractory subjects a lesson of 
 obedience to lawful authority they would not forget 
 in a hurry. The irate gentleman soon discovered 
 that he was in the wrong pew; he was hustled 
 out amid a storm of yells and hoots, and it was 
 as much as we could do to keep the populace 
 from giving him a chairing after the vulgar fashion. 
 From that day he has been known by a variety 
 of nicknames, all indicating the supreme object of 
 his loyal ambition. Here, everybody, down to the 
 school-boys, calls him Collector Thompson, and far 
 from resenting their familiarity, he actually glories 
 in the popular recognition of his zeal in his royal 
 master's service. Once in a while he breaks out 
 and ramps and raves like all bedlam let loose; but 
 take him right, you will find him to be at bot 
 tom a very good kind of an old heathen doesn't 
 bear a particle of malice, and is openhanded and 
 honest as the day." 
 
 Carleton. "But what has the old tory to do 
 with the boy?" 
 
 Alloway. "Everything he and his wife. Having 
 no children of their own, they ha,ve adopted Archie; 
 but where they picked him up, I have not the 
 remotest idea." 
 
 Carleton. "Another Tom Jones in embryo, very 
 likely. Come now, Dick, who do you suppose the 
 wild huntsman to be ; for to me, he is a more 
 interesting personage than your little foundling.' 5
 
 WOODBOUKXE. 25 
 
 Another pronounced shrug was all the reply. 
 
 Carleton. "A brave set of fellows, truly; twenty 
 of you to one poor forlorn foreigner, and not one 
 had the courage to ask him a civil question. How 
 I wish I had been there." 
 
 Alloivay. "What would you have done? most 
 puissant imp of valor." 
 
 Carleton. "What would I have done? Why, first 
 of all, I would have gone to the relief of the dis 
 comfited unknown cavalier and helped him to 
 remount; next, I would have felicitated him, in i\ 
 delicate way, on his superb horsemanship, and ten 
 dered him the prize, which an untoward accident 
 deprived him of; and, in fine, I would have gen- 
 early dispensed him the hospitable treatment which 
 is due to a stranger and a gentleman common 
 politeness, nothing more. Suppose now, this terti- 
 ble person should turn out to be what I verily 
 suspect he is " 
 
 "No more of that, Hal, an' thou lovest me," 
 exclaimed Alloway, retreating behind an apt quota 
 tion. "And since you speak of politeness, I am 
 reminded to say, welcome to Woodbourne, if you 
 have been all this while paying me that long 
 promised visit." 
 
 " There, again, my dear friend, I am not to 
 blame," replied Carleton. "It was impossible for 
 me to leave home while my father was absent on 
 that plaguey Indian business ; and ever since he 
 came back he has had me constantly at work in 
 the fourfold capacity of scribe, amanuensis, con 
 fidential secretary, and general factotem. I am only 
 this moment relieved of my multifarious task; my
 
 2G WOODBOURXE. 
 
 luggage is on the way, and you are not going to 
 be rid of me for some days." 
 
 "Only stay until you wear your welcome out, 
 and I will overlook past transgressions," replied 
 Alloway, in his hearty manner. 
 
 By this time they had gotten clear of the for 
 est, and, passing through a gateway which opened 
 upon a wide lawn, Avere approaching a large and 
 comely mansion, half hidden in a tuft of sheltering 
 trees, and perched upon the summit of what, in 
 that country, was regarded as a somewhat ambi 
 tious knoll. This was AVoodbourne, the goodly resi 
 dence of Mr. Richard Austin Alloway, where he 
 maintained, with a very bad grace, it was said, his 
 present reign of solitary grandeur.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 R. RICHARD ALLOWAY'S mother was 
 an Austin. The founder of the Virginia 
 family of that name was the younger son 
 of a younger brother, who appears to have 
 drifted hither towards the close of the seventeenth 
 century. At an early period of his life he set 
 out from Kent County, England, to seek his for 
 tune wheresoever lie could find it, and in his .case 
 the proverb of the rolling stone received a flat 
 contradiction. His various enterprises on land and 
 sea met with unvarying success, and he rapidly 
 accumulated a considerable store of wealth. Jamaica 
 was the last field of his commercial operations. 
 Thence he removed to Virginia, having previously 
 invested the bulk of his large means in land and 
 negro slaves. He now abandoned mercantile pur 
 suits, and became a planter of magnificent propor 
 tions. From this description, it is easy to infer 
 that Mr. Richard Austin the elder was one of 
 those solid men of whom the saw, " Better to be 
 born lucky than rich," was written, and who, in 
 all the mutations of human affairs, never lose sight 
 of the main chance nor let go an opportunity to 
 turn an honest penny. Had he devoted himself
 
 28 WOODBOUR5TE. 
 
 body and soul to the service of Mammon, he 
 would in all probability have become the reigning 
 monarch of Change Alley, and, dying, left a pile in 
 the funds for executorial "rooks, committee men 
 and trustees," to squander in contingent fees and 
 incidental expenses, to say nothing of fat salaries to 
 countless dispensers of infinitesimal benefactions to 
 the widow and fatherless. 0, blind heaper-up of 
 the shining hoard, why should you be so much 
 concerned about the disposition of your toilsome 
 gains when you yourself shall have been hutched 
 in the insatiable grave? What difference will it 
 make in the general account of human happiness 
 whether 
 
 To heirs unknown descends the unguarded store, 
 Or wanders, Heaven directed, to the poo;-? 
 
 It was Richard Austin's son who designed the 
 capacious dwelling that erstwhile looked down in 
 stately pride from the crest of yonder sedgy knoll, 
 and of which naught remains to tell the tale save 
 a crumbling heap of bricks and mortar, and the 
 charred end or two of a beam or rafter. It was 
 burned by the British in the war of 1812, one of 
 the many similar acts of vandalism of which the 
 locality retains the proof to this day. 
 
 Mr. John Austin Avas liberally educated at the 
 best schools in England, obtained a degree at 
 Oxford, and received the extra polishing of the 
 grand Continental tour. That he made the most 
 of his opportunities is evident from the fact, that 
 had he not been a man of rare talents and acquire 
 ments, he could not possibly have attained to the
 
 "VVOODBOURHE. 29 
 
 honors he in after years enjoyed, having, at different 
 times, been a member of Council, sat several ses 
 sions in the House of Burgesses, and filled, as long 
 as he desired it, the responsible office of Presiding 
 Justice and High Sheriff of the county. Under 
 his forming hands Woodbourne blossomed as a rose 
 in the wilderness, and displayed in every feature 
 the evidences of a cultivated mind and refined 
 taste. To this day the name recalls whatever of 
 elegant ease, solid comfort and social pleasure found, 
 an abode within "the ancient, hospitable hall 
 
 Whose vaulted roof once rung to harmless mirth : 
 Where every passing stranger was a guest, 
 And every guest a friend." 
 
 For all that the house had Us skeleton. Here, 
 as everywhere, the stream of happiness was "the 
 torrent's smoothness ere it falls below." This pic 
 ture of joy and gladness could not last for the 
 brief space of one man's life, and the last days of 
 Mr. John Austin's career on earth repeat the sad, 
 sad story of the vanity of human wishes. He had 
 but one son, the youngest of seven children, and 
 although he was far from wanting affection for 
 his daughters, the boy had been the principal 
 object of his pride and care. The good dominie 
 who held the station of private tutor in the family 
 was not permitted to have exclusive control of his 
 pupil's training. The fond father devoted every 
 leisure moment to the grateful task, and deemed 
 himself abundantly rewarded for his diligent pains. 
 The boy was sprightly, apt and ambitious to learn, 
 and not only did he master with ease the lessons 
 
 3*
 
 30 WOODBOURXE. 
 
 which were assigned him, but by the time he was 
 seventeen years old he had read through every book 
 of travel, history and polite literature in his father's 
 well-stored library, and thus acquired an amazing 
 deal of miscellaneous information. With these advan 
 tages he "was sent to the college at Williamsburg, 
 and it was intended, when he had taken the course 
 there, he should complete his studies abroad. 
 
 In the bright annals of the Old Dominion there 
 is no name of purer lustre than that of Commis 
 sary Blair, the pioneer of letters, to whom belongs 
 the imperishable honor of having erected a temple 
 where all the wisdom of the old world Egyptians 
 could be had without encountering the perils and 
 cost of a double voyage across the ocean. His 
 darling foster-child was now grown to be a flourish 
 ing seminary of science and literature. In another 
 decade it became the prolific nursery of republican 
 genius, the fountain to which the brightest intel- 
 1 <ects of the colony repaired, and "in their golden 
 urns drew light." 
 
 Thoroughly accoutred by previous careful prepa 
 ration, Richard Austin enlisted with the fairest 
 auspices in the earnest and jealous contests of his 
 new arena. Among his associates were a score of 
 ardent competitors, all eager to endure the suffo 
 cating heat and dust of the Olympic course to 
 win the victor's crown of glory. Naturally, his 
 disposition was the most amiable and gentle; he 
 was ingenuous, frank and warm-hearted to a fault, 
 and the current of his feelings and affections 
 usually flowed in a strong, even and pellucid chan 
 nel. Whilst he was a general favorite with his
 
 WOODBOUKNE. 31 
 
 fellow-students, lie had especially singled out one 
 among the number for his warmest and most inti 
 mate regard, and this attachment gradually ripened 
 into a friendship passing the love of women. 
 
 The session was drawing to a close; the final 
 examinations were close at hand, and the candi 
 dates for the various badges of merit vied with 
 each other in unremitting application to their 
 absorbing duties. Foremost in the generous race 
 were Richard Austin and his friend, Reginald 
 Aubrey, twin stars in the galaxy of academic dis 
 tinction. In the midst of the animated contest, a 
 marked change was observed in Richard's deport 
 ment; he grew suddenly morose and cynical, 
 neglected his books, and went moping about in soli 
 tary despondency. One evening, while the spell 
 was on him, he was crossing the college campus, 
 where a number of students were playing at cricket, 
 when one of them thoughtlessly accosted him in 
 what he conceived to be an insulting and jeering 
 manner. Instantly he stooped, and, seizing a large 
 stone, threw it with all his strength at the offender's 
 head. The deadly missile flew harmlessly past 
 the mark at which it was aimed, to find a dearer 
 victim, and striking poor Aubrey full upon the 
 temple, felled him to the earth. The blow was 
 fatal. Let ns not linger on the harrowing story. 
 The anguish and remorse of the unhappy young 
 man were terrible beyond description; and when 
 his father came to take him home, his sorrowful 
 companions could scarcely recognize, in the stony 
 image of voiceless and tearless woe around which 
 they stood weeping, a trace of the once light-
 
 32 WOODBOUIINE. 
 
 hearted leader of their sportive pastimes, and many 
 wondered if it were not better to be with him 
 whom they had tenderly laid to rest in the silent 
 grave. Ah, could he have whispered one little 
 word, or had he even smiled in his sleep when 
 the cry of wild, despairing agony burst from the 
 wretched .form that bent over him as he lay so 
 cold and still upon the ground ! Alas ! there was 
 no solacing remembrance no transient gleam of 
 compassion no drop of healing balm in the over 
 flowing cup of hopeless misery. Like a plummet 
 the soul of Eeginald Aubrey dropped into the 
 ocean of eternity, and from that moment llichard 
 Austin was rarely ever seen to smile. 
 
 Thus it happened that one flash of an angry 
 spirit had kindled a fire which consumed to ashes 
 as fair a temple as was ever fashioned by skill 
 divine. 0, wretched man, voyager on life's uncer 
 tain main, be not beguiled into false security because 
 the sea is calm and the stars are shining brightly 
 over your head. In calm and storm alike be ever 
 watchful and circumspect. To the wary pilot the 
 ripple on the glassy surface gives warning of the 
 jagged reef that lurks below. Let that strong 
 hand for an instant loose its hold upon the helm, 
 and the frail vessel which bears your soul's eternal 
 fortunes is engulphed in the yawning deep, or 
 drifts, a shattered and helpless wreck on the bosom 
 of the remorseless wave. Beware ! beware ! or else 
 learn, when it is too late, that to the mind which 
 is not already callous grown in sin there may 
 come an anguish which cannot be wearied down, 
 a pang which cannot be assuaged.
 
 \VOODBOURNE. 33 
 
 For weeks the grief of Richard Austin was 
 excessive, and manifested itself in such fearful con 
 vulsions that his father inwardly prayed for death 
 to come and release him from suffering. At length 
 these violent paroxysms ceased entirely, and were 
 succeeded by another form of malady, less poignant 
 in the excruciating torture of the body, but dis 
 tressing beyond measure, inasmuch as it foreshad- 
 OAved the worst calamity which could befall the 
 unhappy youth. He sunk into a deep, pervading, 
 listless melancholy; a thick, impenetrable pall of 
 gloomy dejection shrouded his whole being; it was 
 the acme of the misery which "rejoiceth exceed 
 ingly, and is glad when it can find the grave." 
 Hour after hour he sat, silent and motionless, 
 gazing on vacancy, and when he was with difficulty 
 pursuaded to move at all, he walked with uncer 
 tain and tottering steps, as one whose senses were 
 completely dazed and who had lost the faculty of 
 volition. The family physician now gravely shook 
 his head, and frankly confessed that his patient 
 was beyond the reach of any remedy he possessed. 
 There was but one recourse left, he said, which 
 promised a chance of success. He had known a 
 change of air and scene to prove efficacious in 
 similar disorders after the ordinary appliances of 
 medical skill had been exhausted in vain. The 
 advice was taken. To his father's great joy, Eichard 
 yielded readily to his entreaties, and they set out 
 on a voyage to England. The result showed the 
 value of Dr. Harrington's prescription. The trip 
 across the ocean of itself wrought a miracle of 
 cure, which Mr. Austin had not dared to hope
 
 34 WOODBOURNE. 
 
 for ; there was a precious elixir in the far-sweeping 
 breezes unknown to human science, and when they 
 reached their destination Richard was so far restored 
 to health as to evince a lively interest in the unac 
 customed sights and scenes around him. In a little 
 while the cloud which hung upon his mind slowly 
 lifted and floated away, and the light shone out 
 again. But not with the radiance of its early 
 beams. It was no longer the glory of the sun, 
 sparkling with myriad hues of ever-changing bright 
 ness; but a soft, dreamy and subdued influence of 
 moon and stars, as of a halo from another world. 
 The beautiful visions of life's morning march, the 
 glowing aspirations for worldly fame and rewards, 
 the fairy forms and fantasies of young desire, each 
 object of passionate love and eager anticipation, 
 which had imparted energy and animation to his 
 heart, appeared through the mystic drapery of that 
 serene shadowy twilight of the soul, like an unsub 
 stantial pageant fast fading from sight. The old 
 vivacity and humor, the bounding pulse, the elastic 
 step, the gay, soaring spirit were gone, and instead 
 of these was a quiet, sedate, earnest and contem 
 plative demeanor, as if the mind was constantly 
 occupied with dark communings on subjects of 
 everlasting import. This was, indeed, the very crisis 
 of his fate. A deadly blight had fallen upon his 
 prospects and fame. He had no pleasure in the 
 diversions where happiness is usually sought. His 
 heart was a fountain of bitter waters, and despair 
 presented its poisoned chalice to his lips. But 
 thanks to his early complete religious training, he, 
 in this supreme moment of mortal agony, turned a
 
 WOODBOURNE. 35 
 
 deaf ear to the voice of the tempter, and taking up 
 his heavy cross bore it with unmurmuring patience 
 to the end. 
 
 Eichard Austin had remained abroad scarcely a 
 year, when he was summoned home by the illness 
 of his father. Here he arrived in time to close 
 the dying eyes of his only parent, and a few 
 months afterwards he was called upon to perform 
 the same sad task in the case of the unmarried 
 oldest sister, who had been to him from infancy 
 in the place of the mother he had never seen. 
 Of his remaining sisters, Mrs. .Allovvay alone resided 
 in the vicinity of Woodbourne; the others were scat 
 tered far and wide over the colony. All of them 
 were happily married, and did not require his aid 
 and protection. So, having arranged his affairs, and 
 given all needful instructions to his overseer, he 
 locked up the house, handed the key to the faith 
 ful old butler, and once again crossed the Atlantic, 
 this time to become an aimless and solitary wan 
 derer in foreign lands. He left an address with 
 Mrs. Alloway where letters would reach him, but 
 he did not answer one of the many which she, 
 with true sisterly affection, continued to write all 
 the same as though he had been the most punc 
 tual of correspondents. 
 
 Years rolled by, and still no tidings came from 
 him, nor could the persistent inquiries of the friends 
 who, from time to time, visited Europe discover the 
 faintest trace of his footsteps. His secret was 
 known to but two bosoms, by whom it was held 
 in the close embrace of professional confidence that 
 of the old lawyer who had been his father's most
 
 36 WOODBOURNE. 
 
 intimate friend and counsellor in his private and 
 public affairs, and of his agent in London. 
 
 Mrs. Alloway went regularly to Woodbourae four 
 or five times a year to make a thorough inspection 
 of the premises, and especially to see that the 
 flowers were properly cared for, and the fruit trees 
 did not suffer for want of pruning. To her the 
 old place was always home, and nowhere else did 
 the roses and dahlias bloom so gorgeously, nor the 
 plums and apricots hang with such tempting 
 lusciousness. On these visits she was accompanied 
 by the children, in whose eyes grandfather's house, 
 as they called it, was a miracle of magnificence, 
 which laughed Aladdin's palace to scorn. What a 
 merry sight it was, to see these little elves drop 
 suddenly from the clouds, and put to rout the 
 legions of grim spectres lurking there, in that 
 sombre and forsaken abode. How they scampered 
 through the house, chased around the lawn, 
 tumbled over the flower-beds, climbed the cherry 
 trees, swung upon the garden gate, ransacked the 
 poultry yard, performed every imaginable mischiev 
 ous antic, and raised such a din about the ears of 
 Uncle George Hamilton, the sable factotum in 
 charge, that he wished them a thousand times in 
 Jericho, and wondered what Miss Jane could have 
 been thinking about to fetch them there to "towse 
 and mummock things to pieces that sort o' way." 
 But Miss Jane did not pay the slightest attention 
 to the grand airs of her brother's prime minister, 
 and the children gamboled on in unrebuked glee- 
 fulness. 
 
 Master Richard Austin Alloway was now a great,
 
 WOODBOURXE. 37 
 
 gawky, hobble-de-hoy urchin, with a, freckled face, 
 a tangled shock of sandy hair, a small flock of 
 goslings in his voice, and a superabundance o-f 
 good humor and animal spirits. He had learned 
 to ride and shoot, to fish and hunt, and to swim 
 like a duck, to bridle a three-year old, and break 
 him, too, to worm a dog, and phlegm a horse in 
 a word, he was a very prince of the tribe of 
 Xiinrod, and the Admirable Crichton of rustic 
 accomplishments.' Of the nectared sweets of learn 
 ing, he does appear to have been particularly fond, 
 being like other truants given to exclaim, jam satis, 
 before testing the fast whether crude surfeit reigned 
 in repletion. In Latin, Caesar's bridge was an ever 
 lasting stumbling block, and as for Greek, the 
 very alphabet was the quintessence of foolishness. 
 But although hs was not on speaking terms with 
 the heroes of Homer and Virgil, he was well up 
 in English history, and had by heart the -entire 
 catalogue of British celebrities, from Boadicca, war 
 like queen, to Captain James Cook, the latest won 
 der of the world. Moreover, he knew perfectly well 
 that the world was. round like a ball, and not flat, 
 like a pan-cake; that the old turn and turn about 
 theory was all gammon, and that the earth revolved 
 on its own "axle-tree" once in twenty-four hours, 
 and circumgyrated round the sun in three hundred 
 and sixty-five days and a fraction over, which 
 explained all about night and day, and winter and 
 summer, and led to the invention of the mariner's 
 compass and the discovery of America! Add to 
 the list a familiar acquaintance with the exploits 
 of "Jack-the-Giant-Killer," the wonders of the 
 
 4
 
 38 WOODBOURNE. 
 
 "Arabian Nights," the adventures of "Robinson 
 Crusoe," and such knowledge of the Episcopal cate 
 chism as a pious mother's unremitting care did not 
 fail to supply, and this inventory of Master Dick's 
 then acquirements is well nigh complete. 
 
 The fields and forests of Woodbourne were a 
 favorite resort of this young poacher, and if, which 
 was rarely the case, he did not succeed in filling 
 his game-bag, he was sure to come back with his 
 pockets groaning with the spoils of the orchard. 
 There were no interdicted preserves in this part of 
 the colony, and the sportsman was free to roam 
 and ravage at will ; yet there was an illusion of 
 forbidden pleasure to Richard in thus trespassing 
 on his uncle's domain, from the fact that it was 
 highly displeasing to the august functionary we 
 have spoken of, who looked upon it as an offence, 
 nothing short of Uze ma jest ie to shoot a squirrel 
 in the gum-spring woods! 
 
 One day, towards the end of the month of Octo 
 ber, 1770, Richard had started with his gun and 
 dog on one of these predatory excursions to Wood- 
 bourne, saying, as usual, that they might not look 
 for him before supper time. He had been gone 
 but a few hours, when he came hurriedly back in 
 a great flurry of excitement, and startled his mother 
 with the intelligence that he had seen a strange 
 person walking on the lawn, and had stood and 
 watched him ever so long, and saw him go across 
 to the graveyard and pull one of the flowers she 
 said nobody was to touch, and how he was dressed 
 in a rich suit of black velvet and walked with a 
 cane, and seemed to be weak and lame, and well,
 
 WOODBOUKNE. 39 
 
 that was all. He had run every step of the way to 
 let her know about it. Who could the stranger 
 be? 
 
 "Your own dear uncle, my son," replied the good 
 lady, warmly embracing the bearer of the joyful 
 news. " There, run and order the carriage to be 
 brought, and send some one for your father." And 
 in the next hour Mr. Alloway and his wife were 
 rolling rapidly along the road to Woodbourne. 
 
 To the desolate wanderer the meeting was unspeak 
 ably affecting, and he wept and sobbed on his 
 sister's breast in a wild, passionate way, which 
 showed how, in all the days of his dreary pilgrim 
 age, his heart was ever yearning for that one touch 
 of heavenly sympathy. Where he had been, what 
 he had been doing, and how he had fared, none 
 ever heard the whole story from his lips. He sel 
 dom referred to his personal adventures, and seemed 
 to regard whatever had befallen him as of no con 
 sequence to the rest of the world. There was 
 neither affectation of indifference nor ill-natured 
 reticence in this enforced silence; only the weari 
 ness of melancholy dejection, and blank, unfathomed 
 desolation of heart. Not a murmur of complaint 
 nor symptom of impatience escaped him in word 
 or gesture; still, the bent form, the tottering gait, 
 the worn and weary look, and wan and wasted 
 features, these told their eloquent tale of sorrow 
 and suffering, and showed that at all times and in 
 all places the ceaseless horror, " fell tyrant of the 
 throbbing breast," held its victim bound with an 
 iron chain. Every trace of angry passion and cyn 
 ical emotion had departed; he was now all gentle-
 
 40 WOOD30UEXE. 
 
 ness and patience and holy resignation, watching 
 and waiting for the joyful summons which would 
 call the grief-burdened soul to its appointed rest. 
 Such was his appearance to the observant eyes of 
 his affectionate sister, when the first gush of sup 
 pressed feeling was over and he had relapsed into 
 his habitual seriousness. Her womanly intuition 
 divined the secret at a glance, and she felt a thrill 
 of unspeakable rapture on finding that all was well 
 with him at home. He had sought and found the 
 Peace which the world cannot give nor take away. 
 Mrs. Alloway came to see him every day for 
 weeks after his return, and found him always the 
 same quiet, uncomplaining and abstracted being. To 
 her anxious inquiries after his health, he invariably 
 responded that he slept well, felt no decided pain, 
 and usually ate with a relish what was set before 
 him. On one of these visits she was much grati 
 fied to observe that he noticed the absence of the 
 children, and wondered why they were never brought 
 to se3 him; so far from being annoyed by them, 
 nothing sh.3 could devise would afford him half so 
 much agreeable diversion as their merry gambols and 
 innocent prattle. After that they always accompa 
 nied her, and frequently came by themselves. At 
 first they were considerably awed in his presence, but 
 they were not long in finding out that he was the 
 gentlest and most harmless of God's creatures, 
 
 o * 
 
 instead of the terrible ogre they had been led to 
 imagine from the mystery in which his history 
 was enveloped. In a little while his grave deport 
 ment ceased to impress them; but what they lacked 
 in reverence, they more than made up in fondness.
 
 WOODBOURlfE. 41 
 
 And now the master was here, even the frowning 
 grimaces and dreadful contortions of old George the 
 butler, began to lose their former terrors. '-Uncle 
 didn't care," was the aggravating reply to every 
 protestation of the enraged majordomo; "and every 
 thing on the land belonged to uncle, himself in 
 the bargain; and he was nothing but an ngly, 
 black, Guinea nigger, for all his consequential airs," 
 which sally of juvenile wit never failed to rout 
 the enemy, horse, foot and dragoons. Matters were 
 even worse than before he came home, and the 
 disgusted old servant, himself a paragon of all that 
 was proper and decorous in behavior, out of patience 
 with such weakness, wishes he had staid away alto 
 gether, since he was of no more account in his 
 own -house than to be made a stick-horse of by 
 "dem audacious chill'un of Miss Jane's," the men 
 tion of whom was always coupled with the awful 
 prognostication that "de debble was sartin to git do 
 las' one on 'em." The monster! couldn't he see 
 that the boisterous romps and antics of this wild 
 troup of joyous sprites was worth all the physic 
 in Dr. Harrington's saddle-bags to his master, and 
 brought the only ray of real cheerfulness that ever 
 illumined that sad face? And when they gathered 
 around his chair, under the spreading oak on the 
 lawn, to listen with breathless interest to the voice 
 so unlike any they had heard before in its strangely 
 plaintive and musical tones, telling such beautiful 
 stories of the far-off lands he had visited, and the 
 wonderful people and things he had seen, his 
 devoted sister overflowed with thankfulness to find 
 her tender ministering was not unavailing, since it 
 
 4*
 
 42 WOODBOUKNE. 
 
 awakened in his breast transitory gleams of sun 
 shine which she feared would never revisit that 
 shady desert. 
 
 Shortly after his uncle's return, Richard was 
 sent from home to try what efficacy there was in 
 a noted fountain of learning in an adjoining county. 
 To what extent he partook of its Pierian waters, 
 and whether he derived any great benefit from 
 the same, we have not been able to ascertain; but 
 from the fact that he was never heard to brag of 
 his attainments, it may be safely conjectured that 
 he was contented with the intoxicating effect of 
 shallow draughts, and left to older topers the sober 
 delights of potations pottle deep. When his vaca 
 tion came, Mr. Austin, who had manifested much 
 interest in the boy, importuned his father to let 
 him come and live at AVoodbourne. Mr. Alloway 
 readily consented, and as Dick was now grown 
 almost to bo a man, his society and assistance 
 became at once a eource of unmistakable pleasure 
 and comfort to the lonely occupant of the great 
 mansion, who, among other things, now directed 
 his studies, and succeeded in inspiring him with 
 a relish of the dainties which are bred in a book 
 which he had never before experienced. With the 
 help of such a kind and affectionate mentor, he 
 made wonderful progress, and well-nigh atoned for 
 his misspent hours. In return, he gave his atten 
 tion to the affairs of the plantation, and as he did 
 not interfere with Uncle George's department, 
 everything went on now as pleasantly as could be 
 desired by all parties. In and about the house was 
 a perpetual atmosphere of calm serenity and tran-
 
 WOODBOURXE. 43 
 
 qnil repose, now and then disturbed by an incur 
 sion of the old butler's uproarious tormentors. 
 Apparently, Mr. Eichard Austin was greatly im 
 proved in health and spirits; yet he never went 
 into society, and, except an occasional visit to his 
 sister, led a life of perfect retirement and seclu 
 sion. His nephew relieved him of the irksome cares 
 of his estate, and was the almoner of his generous 
 bounty to the poor, so thai he was wholly exon 
 erated from worldly concerns. But he marked how 
 swiftly the days were gliding by, and knew that 
 his end was fast approaching. 
 
 One morning last May, Eichard, who had been 
 on some unusual errand, came in late to breakfast, 
 and was surprised to find his uncle had not yet 
 made his appearance. He was an early riser, and 
 it was his custom, when dressed, to go to his library 
 and spend an hour in study and devotion. Here 
 they found him kneeling beside a chair, his head 
 bowed over his clasped hands, which rested on the 
 Holy Book he had opened for the last time. His 
 prayer was answered; the poor captive was free, and 
 the sweet smile which lingered on his face, recalling 
 the image of his boyish grace and beauty, showed 
 with what blissful ecstacy he had greeted the mes 
 senger of Heaven, and walked with him out of the 
 dark shadow into the light of eternal happiness. 
 His grave is the fourth one you see there, and 
 the fifth is that of the old slave who followed 
 him in a little while, and was laid at the feet of 
 those he had so long and faithfully served. Such 
 was the peaceful close of a life which had been 
 embittered by one crushing grief, and it was con-
 
 44 WOODBOURXE. 
 
 soling to know that during the last years of his 
 earthly sojourn he had found an alleviation of his 
 sorrows. 
 
 By his uncle's will, which was written before he 
 went abroad, and lodged Avith Mr. Copland, the 
 old lawyer whom we have mentioned, and which 
 was never afterwards altered, his nephew succeeded 
 to all his property, and as he left no debts or 
 legacies to be paid, there was nothing to do but 
 to take immediate possession without legal formali 
 ties of any description. And thus we find Mr. 
 Richard Austin Alloway, at the free age of one- 
 arid -twenty, lord of the goodly manor of Wood- 
 bourne, with all its broad acres of field and forest 
 as fine a specimen of a free-handed, bold-spirited, 
 bluif and burly country squire as could be found 
 in the wide borders of the Old Dominion; a noted 
 fox hunter, to be sure, and the proud owner of 
 the winner of the sweepstakes at Mt. Airy race- 
 field; yet by no means the embodiment of extrav 
 agance, idleness and dissipation, which he is rep 
 resented to be in the caricaturing pictures of certain 
 prejudiced and prudish story writers. He is very 
 popular with his neighbors, young and old; enter 
 tains as becomes his station and fortune, and makes 
 one in every party for pleasure and amusement; but 
 he does not, on any account, neglect his plantation, 
 which he manages without the aid of an overseer, 
 and his affairs prosper accordingly. For the rest, 
 it is evident that he does not intend to remain a 
 bachelor longer than he can help, and of late the 
 frequent apparition of a stalwart cavalier on a well- 
 known sorrel horse, with a nosegay at his button-
 
 WOODBOUKXE. 45 
 
 hole, and a countenance expressive of the extremes 
 of sheepish bashfulness and reckless indifference, 
 always going the self-same way, furnishes an exhaust- 
 less theme for gossiping people, who will persist 
 in taking so much trouble upon themselves about 
 matters that don't concern them. How his wooing 
 sped will in due time appear.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 resume the thread of our story, the 
 
 f n J 
 
 young gentlemen from whom we parted 
 
 a moment ago to take this short flight 
 over the "dark backward and abysm of 
 time," are now seated by a cheerful fire in the 
 dining-room; for, although the days are remarkably 
 mild for the season, the nights are so cool that 
 the warm blaze does not come amiss in that spacious 
 apartment. Dick has been telling about his uncle, 
 and when he had finished his voice was tremulous, 
 and a tear was glistening in his mild, blue eye. 
 His friend was far from being unmoved by the 
 touching story, and sat for some time in deep 
 meditation, gazing intently at the fire as if it were 
 a Merlin's Mirror, in which he expected to find an 
 explanation of all that is dark and enigmatical in 
 human life. 
 
 " Dick," he at length said, musingly, " I hope 
 you will not think me impertinent for pursuing a 
 delicate topic your family secrets but there is a 
 mystery here I would like to explore." 
 
 Dick. "Certainly not, Harry; you are heartily 
 welcome to all the information I have to impart; 
 but, really, I am unable to see what there is so 
 
 (46)
 
 WOODBOURNE. 47 
 
 very mysterious in my poor uncle's sorrowful his 
 tory." 
 
 Harry. "Nothing in the history, as far as it is 
 written; but were you never curious to learn what 
 was in the books the sybil burned? You are quite 
 sure he left no record of his travels?" 
 
 Dick. "Xone, as far as I have discovered in 
 examining his papers; not the remotest hint of 
 anything that happened to him while he was abroad 
 is divulged in his writings, and all I know of the 
 matter is what he told me at odd times, when in 
 the vein of talking. The reason why the efforts to 
 find his retreat proved futile, is now perfectly obvi 
 ous he had changed his name in order to prevent 
 the possibility of his being traced. Doubtless, he 
 imagined that this self imposed penitence would be 
 of no avail, unless it was fulfilled with scrupulous 
 severity." 
 
 Harry. "Was the late Mr. Austin a Eoman 
 Catholic?" 
 
 Did'. "On the other hand, he was ardently 
 attached to the Church of England; why do you 
 ask?" 
 
 Harry. "You spoke of his doing penance, which, 
 as you know, is a word of fearful significance to 
 devout Catholics means frightful torturings and 
 macerations of the flesh, lacerating integuments, 
 horrible flagellations, peas and pebbles in one's shoes, 
 sackcloth and ashes, pierced with cold, tormented 
 with hunger, parched with thirst, and ever so many 
 other unimaginable and unendurable agonies. Did 
 he suffer all or any of these things?" 
 
 Dick. "Of course I did not mean that sort of
 
 48 WOODBOURXE. 
 
 penance. Indeed, I only used the word for want 
 of a better. From the time that I came to know 
 him well, he w T as religiously abstemious and self- 
 denying, a pattern of temperance in all respects 
 but I am sure he did not entertain the fanatical 
 notion, that the troubles of the mind could be 
 eased or dispelled by racking the body with every 
 manner of pain. Whenever the children came to 
 see him, he would talk to them for hours at a 
 time, in a pleasant and instructive way, of his 
 ramblings and observations in Europe, and his 
 sketches of characters and scenes were often exquis 
 itely racy and humorous; especially glowing and 
 beautiful was the description he gave them, with 
 almost childish rapture, of what he called his 
 'Happy Valley,' in Switzerland, where he lived a 
 whole year in a family of the better class of peas 
 antry, for whom he formed the strongest attachment. 
 Our conversation was usually confined to literary, 
 moral and religious topics, followed by critical 
 remarks from him on his favorite authors. He was 
 thoroughly versed in French and Italian, and had 
 w r hat seemed to me to be an inordinate passion for 
 Tasso, from whose 'Jerusalem Delivered' I trust to 
 be evermore excused. That and Olilton's Paradise 
 Lost' were the toughest jobs I ever undertook; but 
 to please Uncle Richard, I went resolutely through 
 both of them without skipping a line." 
 
 Harry, "'Which is more than I can say. Is 
 that all, Dick?" 
 
 Dick. "Yes; at least I can think pf nothing 
 more at present." 
 
 Harry. "One other question but no, I will not
 
 WOODBOURNE. 49 
 
 trouble you with that." Then suddenly putting on 
 a quizzical mask of profound gravity, he continued, 
 quoting from the quaint old Knight of Norwich: 
 " ' "What songs the syrens sung, or what name 
 
 Achilles assumed when, he hid himself amono- 
 
 o 
 
 women, though puzzling questions, are not beyond 
 all conjecture.' My bay against your sorrel, Dickon, 
 that I unmask your domino the very first trial. 
 Your uncle's name- -his assumed one, that is to 
 say was Metcalf." 
 
 Alloway regarded his companion with undisguised 
 amazement. 
 
 "Why, Harry," he exclaimed, "you are " 
 
 "Doctor Faustus or the devil!" cried his lively 
 companion. "Don't be alarmed, old fellow; there 
 is not a grain of black magic in it. Strange, 
 though," he muttered, as if talking to himself, 
 "that this interesting solitaire should never have 
 occurred to us to be the man we were looking for." 
 
 Dick." The man you were looking for ? What 
 in the name of common sense do you mean by 
 this provoking mummery ? " 
 
 Harry (still preserving his serio-comic vein). 
 " Davus sum non (Elipus; you can read the rid 
 dle for yourself. Hearken unto the story. Some 
 four or five months ago, while the convention was 
 sitting, there came to Richmond a stranger, whose 
 unusual appearance and mysterious behavior created 
 no little stir in political circles. He brought let 
 ters from Mr. Charles Carroll, of Maryland, to Mr. 
 Peyton Randolph and other distinguished gentle 
 men, to whom he made known his business, and 
 then disappeared ai quietly as he came. What was 
 
 5
 
 50 WOODBOUUXE. 
 
 the nature of his communication has not yet 
 exactly transpired, but report says it had an im 
 portant bearing on the questions at issue with 
 Great Britain. The general notion seemed to be 
 that lie was a secret ambassador of the French 
 Court. Shortly after his visit, the exigency of 
 public affairs called my father to the temporary 
 capital, where, meeting with Mr. Randolph, he was 
 casually asked by that gentleman whether he was 
 acquainted with a man in Virginia named Richard 
 Metcalf, and answering to a particular description. 
 His late visitor, said he, was greatly concerned to 
 discover the whereabouts of the person he had 
 described, and he had engaged to look him up if 
 he could be found in the colony. My father had 
 never heard of such an individual, but promised 
 to aid Mr. Randolph in searching for him. All 
 inquiries up to the time of Mr. Randolph's sud 
 den death were fruitless, and after that lamentable 
 event my father gave himself no further concern 
 about the matter, until he received a letter from 
 Mr. Carroll, some days ago, repeating the inquiry. 
 The stranger, I learned, was a Catholic priest, the 
 Abbe Julian Soule. Did you ever hear of the 
 name ? " 
 
 Alloway shook his head; he was sorely puzzled. 
 <; It is too hard a nut for me to crack, Harry ; 
 a Catholic priest? What could he possibly want 
 with Uncle Richard ? " 
 
 "Yes, a veritable Catholic priest,'' repeated his 
 friend, resuming his rallying tone; "you could not 
 well look more preposterously horrified if I had 
 said it was Old Nick himself, in hot pursuit of
 
 WOODBOURNE. 51 
 
 some poor forsworn wretch who had managed to 
 give him the slip, having repented too late of an 
 evil bargain with the arch-enemy. Nonsense, Dick; 
 you know well enough your good uncle was not 
 a sorcerer, nor, what some folks think a great deal 
 worse, a papist. I thought you were superior to 
 such vulgar prejudices." 
 
 Dick. "You are quite in the right for so think 
 ing; I am not the least bit prejudiced on that 
 score. Had you said he was a Jew or a Turk, it 
 would have made no difference, as far as uncle 
 was concerned; his religious faith was as rooted as 
 that oak tree out there. A Catholic priest," he 
 slowly repeated; "yes, I remember, in that thrilling 
 story he narrated, a priest figures conspicuously, but 
 his name was Father Manso, an Italian; the other 
 name, I am positively certain, I never heard before." 
 
 Carleton. " Well, I don't reckon it is of much 
 consequence to you and me who his reverence is, 
 or what he is after; so, letting him go for the 
 present with a pax voMscum, or what you please. 
 tell me now, in few words, what you think i-> 
 likely to be the be all and end all of this dis 
 turbance with England?" 
 
 Dick. "That is what I would rather you should 
 tell me, Harry; you have been playing statesman 
 of late, and are deep in the public counsels. To 
 my unsophisticated mind, there is every indication 
 of a bloody and devastating civil war. It is not 
 our fault, to be sure; we have had sufficient pro 
 vocation, in all conscience, to justify an appeal to 
 arms; but the alternative is none the less dreadful 
 for that reason, nor will the righteousness of our
 
 52 WOOD3OURNE. 
 
 cause avert the miseries which fratricidal strife is 
 sure to entail upon us. The die is cast; the 
 sword only can decide the quarrel ; resistance to 
 the death should now be the watchword and reply 
 in every patriot's mouth." 
 
 Harry (eagerly;. "Just what 1 expected to hear 
 from, your lips; they belied you, who said you 
 were lukewarm in the cause." 
 
 Dick (with considerable warmth). "AVhat right 
 has anybody to say that of me? Because I keep 
 my own counsel, and don't choose to go swagger 
 ing and ranting about the country like a fantas 
 tical Armido or blustering Bobadil, ravished with 
 the music of my own valorous tongue? It is 
 nevertheless true, I am no Hotspur." 
 
 Harry. "All the better for that; it is a name 
 of unlucky omen a splendid meteor, vanishing m 
 darkness and dismay; a spasm of heedless insur 
 rection expiring in a field of Shrewsbury. Cool 
 heads and stout hearts are what we need. You 
 are right; we cannot shut out the truth by hold 
 ing up our hands in hopeless deprecation. It is 
 now either independence or abject slavery. There 
 is no longer room for temporizing expedients and 
 patch-work compromises. There is but one course 
 left for us, the ultima, ratio; and that signifies 
 everlasting liberty, or endless subjugation to the 
 American people. So say the oldest and most 
 cautious heads in the colony. The fact is, my 
 dear friend,'' he proceeded to say, warming with 
 the exciting theme, "our English cousins have 
 never had the slightest idea of granting our very 
 reasonable demand. They steadily look upon us as
 
 WOODBOUENE. 3 
 
 a set of political Pariahs and Ishmaelites aliens 
 from the Israel of British freedom, having no part 
 or lot in the glorious heritage of Magna Charta. 
 They have the monopoly of the commodity of 
 price, and they mean to keep it if they can. Pic 
 ture these lords of humankind, as they modestly call 
 themselves, with their proud ports and defiant eyes 
 passing in grand review before the nations, every 
 dirty tatterdemalion among them swaggering about 
 his birthright of liberty, and we, miserable outcasts 
 from the pale of the constitution, not permitted to 
 feed upon the husks that are left by the swinish 
 multitude. Oh, it makes my blood boil to think 
 of their audacious effrontery. How I wish I had 
 never been born a British subject; a fig for the 
 name!" 
 
 This sudden outburst of indignation was too much 
 for Alloway's gravity. Seeing Carleton pause for 
 breath, he caught up the satirical strain: "Let us 
 have another manifesto of non-intercourse, Harry, 
 and make its provisions as broad and general as 
 the casing air. Henceforth homespun is the only 
 wear, 'Sainte Croix' and 'Old Madeira' the only 
 tipple; and John Bull shall not have our tobacco 
 at a guinea a sneeze. That's the sum tottle o' 
 the whole business a mere matter of barter .and 
 exchange with these voracious sharks a rump of 
 pickled blue beef from the royal shambles for a 
 cwt. of Virginia smoked venison; a cask of rotten 
 Scotch herrings " 
 
 Harry. "Psha! those are mere trifles compared 
 with the one great grievance-^-" 
 
 Dick (refusing to yield the floor). "And then 
 
 5*
 
 54 WOODBOURXE. 
 
 we must keep on paying the old woman over there 
 her annuity of pin-money for sending her Eedcoats 
 over here to stir up the redskins to mutiny and 
 rage, and on no account forget to tickle the Pope 
 of England's nose with a tythe's pig's tail for 
 teaching us how to read the thirteenth chapter of 
 Eomans backwards. Others may do what they like, 
 but, as for me, I hereby forever abjure, renounce, 
 repudiate, scorn and despise the whole race of John 
 Bull not excepting Shakespeare and Spenser, and 
 Milton and Pope, and Bacon, and Locke and Xew- 
 ton, and Boyle and '0, Jemmy Thompson, Jemrny 
 Thompson, ! ' let me not forget to anathematize 
 the panegyrist who lauded his mighty countrymen 
 after that disgustingly fulsome fashion 
 
 For every virtue, every worth renowned ; 
 Sincere, plain-hearted, hospitable, kind; 
 Yet, like the mastering thunder, when provoked. 
 The dread o! tyrants, and the sole resource 
 Of those who under grim oppression groan. 
 
 You have not forgotten my famous "piece of decla 
 mation, Harry; how robusliously I used to mouth 
 it, to the admiration of our dear old master, rest 
 his soul ! from ' Heavens ! what a goodly prospect 
 spreads around/ to the awful eidolon of 'Public 
 zeal, ever musing on the common weal, and labor 
 ing glorious for some great design.' Jupiter! how 
 fine I thought it was! the very sublime of heroic 
 verse, outstripping 'Achillas Wrath' and throwing 
 'Arma Virumque* completely in the shade. Pah! 
 nothing but downright flummery and arrant balder 
 dash from beginning to end! Oh, the luxury of 
 hating! I never knew what it was until now.
 
 WOODBOURiJE. 55 
 
 See how you liave set me in a blaze, you firebrand 
 of treason." 
 
 "Then,"' said Carleton, laughing, "I had better 
 strike while the iron is hot. It is my purpose 
 to go to work right away and raise a troop of 
 light horse, and I want your assistance at the 
 start." 
 
 Dick. "You shall have it, heart and hand." 
 
 Harry. " Seriously ? " 
 
 Dick. "As a Quaker at a love feast. I never 
 jest on that subject." 
 
 Harry (enthusiastically). "I am overjoyed to have 
 you second my project so warmly. We will about 
 it at once. Our noble chief shall not have cause 
 longer to reproach us for our tardiness. As you say, 
 it is not a subject for idle jest or vaporing. We 
 should prepare in real earnest for the contest, and 
 to fight we must have an army." 
 
 Dick. "An army? Where is the army of Gen 
 eral Washington ? " 
 
 Harry. " Little better than a mob, and fast melt 
 ing away, from all accounts. We cannot fight British 
 regulars with raw militia with any hope of success. 
 You are a crack shot and a capital rider, my boy; 
 but to cut a squirrel's head off with a rifle and 
 jump a horse over a worm fence, desirable accom 
 plishments as they may be, are not everything that 
 is required to make a soldier of a man. Disci 
 pline, subordination, endurance, courage, fortitude 
 these are the necessary elements of an efficient 
 army. It must be taught to move like a perfect 
 machine at the will of its commander; and, fighting 
 or retreating, marching or countermarching "
 
 56 WOODBOURXE. 
 
 Dick. "Xever mind the 'disciplines of the wars,' 
 brave captain; Braddock's defeat lias not shaken 
 my faith in cold steel and steady valor. Close up, 
 touch elbows, eyes front, march straight into the 
 cannon's month, like an embattled stone wall, 
 and 'Our army swore terribly in Flanders,' quoth 
 my Uncle Toby which last accomplishment is easily 
 learned. It is a stubborn fact, Hal; there is no 
 more dangerous animal alive than that same British 
 Lion when he shakes his yellow mane and glowers 
 and roars in very anger. It will require all the 
 strength of our united hearts and hands, and other 
 help beside, I am thinking, to keep our heads out 
 of his ugly mouth. What do you perpend shall 
 be done?" 
 
 Harry. "Were all the people of my mind, they 
 would declare George Washington military dictator, 
 and resolve to a man to follow him blindfold. As 
 it is, I shall endeavor, unfledged stripling as our 
 reverend seniors call me, to do my full duty carry 
 out the scheme I have suggested, with your aid, 
 and be ready to take the field before the campaign 
 opens next spring. We shall have our hands full, 
 without doubt; and, between us, Dick, matters are 
 not as they should be at Boston. We need not 
 proclaim our weakness on the housetops. If we 
 did, we were irretrievably ruined an easy prey for 
 your ravening beast. Still the truth should not be 
 concealed from those whose hearts are in the cause, 
 and who have the will and the power to remedy 
 the evil. Washington's confidential letters reveal a 
 picture of poltroonery, sordid meanness and flagrant 
 peculation which would be incredible if drawn by
 
 WOODBOURXE. 57 
 
 a less scrupulous pen. He calls upon the flower 
 of the native chivalry, the real yoemanry of the 
 land, to come to the rescue; men who will freely 
 take upon themselves the solemn vow of consecra 
 tion to the holy work, and not quit the field until 
 their country takes her equal station among the 
 powers of the earth. It was well enough to adver 
 tise the world of the nature and extent of our 
 grievances; to tell King George in good, set phrase 
 that we will not longer bear the yoke of vassalage 
 to the mother country. Now, silence in the ranks. 
 No more brave words; no more paper fulminations; 
 no more exuberant outpourings of the dulce et decus 
 spirit in cataracts of rhetorical bombast. Are we 
 earnest patriots, who look upon liberty as a jewel 
 above price? Then let us take our stand without 
 delay in the- deadly breach, by the side of our 
 chosen leader. But we will talk further of this 
 another time. There is a ship lying below; can you 
 tell me anything of her movements when she sails 
 and whither bound?" 
 
 Dick. "That, sir, is the good bark Katrine, from 
 Glasgow, Hamilton & Osborn, owners. She is here, 
 I am told, to take on board the household goods 
 and chattels, Lares and Penates, of Mr. Thomas 
 Osborn, one of the firm, who has prudently deter 
 mined to go back to Scotland and stay there until 
 the storm blows over, if not for the rest of his 
 days. Non-intercourse has already rendered the 
 occupation of the Scotch merchants comparatively 
 worthless, and some of them are seeking safer and 
 more profitable investments." 
 
 Harry. "What of your neighbor, Mr. Graeme? 
 How is he affected by these troubles?"
 
 58 WOODBOUEXE. 
 
 Dick. "Generally reserved and circumspect; avoids 
 discussion, and keeps strict guard over his temper 
 when the behavior of certain of his countrymen 
 in Maryland is denounced. Yet he openly avows his 
 abhorrence of Dunmore's brutal proclamation, and 
 declares that it and other outrages, that spring-gun 
 affair particularly, are past endurance. Like many 
 others, I suspect he earnestly deprecates having to 
 resort to extreme measures, without well seeing how 
 they can be honorably avoided. His son is as out 
 spoken a rebel as Patrick Henry, and had to be 
 shipped over to Scotland to keep him out of mis 
 chief. Eeally, though, it was done more to relieve 
 his mother's anxiety of mind than because his 
 father disapproved his sentiments. By the way, Mr. 
 Graeme can give you the information you desire 
 respecting the vessel. He was once a partner of 
 Mr. Osborn, and, I believe, still retains an interest 
 in the concern. 
 
 Harry. "Which is all the better for my pur 
 pose. Will you go with me to see him to-morrow?" 
 
 Dick. "Yes, in the evening; I have an engage 
 ment will occupy the entire forenoon. A plague 
 on't! I wish they had pitched on somebody else 
 for the disagreeable job." 
 
 Harry. " What is it, Dick?" 
 
 Dick. " Oh, a most weighty affair. You see, my 
 especial friend and pitcher, the collector, has been 
 ever so long at loggerheads with an equally cross- 
 grained neighbor about a patch of alder brake, 
 which a fastidious muskrat Avouldn't have as a 
 gracious gift. There has been an interminable suit 
 in ejectment between them, and at last, sick of
 
 ^VOODBOURXE. 59 
 
 the law's delay, and sicker still of the fee bills 
 they have had to foot, they, for a wonder, agreed 
 to take it out of court, and refer it to two disin 
 terested and judicious freeholders to decide. Lastly, 
 the arbitrators have locked horns, and, "worse to 
 embroil the fray, have called me in as umpire. Do 
 you know what I mean to do?" 
 
 Harry. "Halve the loaf between the litigants?" 
 
 Dick. "No." 
 
 Harry. "Give them an equal share apiece of 
 hard crust, and decree the rest in costs? that's 
 English for equity." 
 
 Dick. "Not a bit of it." 
 
 Harry. " What then, 0, learned judge ? " 
 
 Dick. "Why, I intend to award the whole of 
 it to the frogs for a free commonwealth a new 
 Atlantis, where they may croak and croak from 
 daylight to dawn again, with none to molest or 
 make them afraid." 
 
 Carleton laughed heartily. "Capital, famous," he 
 exclaimed; "the two-edged sword of justice cutting 
 both ways at once one edge lopping off an ever 
 lasting casus belli between two tough old sticklers 
 for their rights; the other carving out a perpetual 
 paradise for the subjects of King Log. If you 
 wield a sabre with the same address, what a trooper 
 you will make. Then you can't go till evening; 
 well, that will be time enough for my business 
 with Mr. Graeme. I'm sorry his son is gone away; 
 the country can ill afford to spare such as he. Is 
 young Graeme their only child? 
 
 Dick "The only son living; they had another 
 and a daughter," there was just the least
 
 60 WOODBOUKXE. 
 
 tremor of embarrassment in his voice, and the 
 faintest shade of heightened color suffused his sun 
 burnt cheek, but they did not escape the quick, 
 sparkling eyes of his sprightly guest. 
 
 "And one fa'ir daughter," he exclaimed; "I see 
 it all now; you sly old fox, earthed at last. But 
 how is this, Dick; what have you done with your 
 other charmer of whom report tells the lovely 
 rose of Clifton? she that is said to be 'the shop 
 of all the qualities that man loves woman for.' 
 Has the fair Roseline found a Juliet in the daisy 
 of Bonhill ? Why, I took you for the very north 
 star of constancy, and, lo! you are as fickle as 
 the moon. Come, unbosom; I am dying to hear " 
 
 "Get out with your nonsense, Harry," replied 
 the persecuted swain; "it is time to go to bed/' 
 And without further ceremony he snatched up a 
 candle and conducted Carleton to his apartment for 
 the night.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Oil must amuse yourself here as best you 
 can till dinner-time, Harry," said his host 
 next morning, as he was mounting his 
 horse. "James will give you the key of 
 the library, and nothing more is wanting to install 
 you in full authority during my absence." 
 
 Carleton was not at all averse from being left 
 to himself for some hours in the pensive solitude 
 of the quiet mansion. He had not been able to 
 close his eyes immediately on retiring, fatigued as 
 he was, for thinking of its late occupant, and 
 weaving all manner of imaginary adventures out of 
 the little hank of party-colored material, which 
 Dick's strange narrative had furnished; and when 
 he did fall asleep, the memory of that disjointed 
 story he had been listening to and trying to put 
 together in congruous and intelligible form, still 
 lingered and haunted him in a tantalizing dream, 
 in which he seemed to be chasing a phantom shape 
 through scenes he had read of, until they were as 
 familiar to his imagination as any spot known to 
 his school-boy rambles. Now he saw it toiling 
 painfully up some rugged Alpine steep, and ever 
 and anon resting on its staff and gazing wistfully 
 
 6 (61)
 
 G2 WQOD.BOURXE. 
 
 at the glittering peak, which mocked its daring 
 aim ; then it appeared to be gliding like a shadow 
 among mouldering ruins and crumbling fanes, or 
 vanishing in the cloistered gloom of solemn min 
 ster or grim sepulchral vault; then, again, it is 
 seen standing lonely and weird on the deck of the 
 storm-driven vessel, and straining its wild, yearn 
 ing eyes over the dark and barren waste of waters, 
 and, at last, it returns to find its only rest under 
 the canopy of the loving oak, whose mighty arms 
 stretch forth and clasp the wanderer in an eternal 
 embrace. 
 
 On awaking from his fevered trance sleep it 
 could hardly be called he found it impossible to 
 shake off the enchantment of those nightly visions, 
 and at breakfast his host did not fail to note the 
 air of musing and absent-minded soberness, which 
 was so much at variance with his wonted rollick- 
 some and debonair gaiety. Alloway did not venture 
 to ask for an explanation of his guest's unusual 
 pensiveness, for fear of bringing on another fit of 
 teasing, and, with the ordinary polite commonplaces, 
 left him to chew the cud of whatever fancy had 
 taken possession of his thoughts. 
 
 After a short stroll over the lawn and through 
 the garden, Carleton returned to the house, and 
 taking the key from the servant, proceeded to the 
 library. He could not repress a slight feeling of 
 awe as he turned the key in the lock, but it dis 
 appeared as soon as he opened the door. 
 
 The sun, streaming in at the windows, bathed 
 the apartment in a quivering flood of mellow radi 
 ance, and far from presenting the gloomy array he
 
 WOODBOURNE. 63 
 
 had pictured, every object wore the brightest and 
 most cheerful aspect. The heavy Avails and ceiling 
 paneled in. grained oak, and glistening with a new 
 coat of varnish ; the solid furniture of shining 
 mahogany and black walnut without speck or stain; 
 the well-filled book-cases, around which no sign of 
 cobwebs and venerable dust was clinging these 
 certainly were not the common appurtenances of an 
 anchorite's devotional retreat. In one corner of the 
 room stood a large, old-fashioned cabinet, or "sec 
 retary," profusely embellished with brass ornaments 
 in the highest state of polish, and opposite to this 
 was a glass case of imposing dimensions, which 
 was stored with an omnium gatherum of rare curi 
 osities mineral substances in endless variety, relics 
 of art, objcts-de-verfu, and the like a sight such 
 as would make a virtuoso's heart leap for joy, and 
 prove by no means uninteresting to tbe man of 
 real science. The ample fireplace was adorned with 
 huge brass andirons, on which the wood was piled 
 ready to be kindled; a substantial fender of the 
 same material protected the uncarpeted and wax-pol 
 ished floor, and they, the andirons and fender, as 
 well as the shovel, poker and tongs, were burnished 
 to a degree of immaculate brilliancy that was mar 
 vellous to behold. In the middle of the room was 
 a large, round table, on which were writing mate 
 rials, several books, and bundles of papers neatly 
 tied up and sealed, and by its side stood an ancient 
 heirloom in the shape of a capacious easy-chair, 
 lined with morocco and padded with hair, and having 
 a contrivance for writing or resting a book attached 
 to one of its arms. The mantlepiece was decorated
 
 G4 WOODBOURXE. 
 
 with a pair of massive silver-plated candelabra, t\vo 
 handsome-figured porcelain vases, and various speci 
 mens of Wedgewood's ornamental wares, and in a 
 niche above it was a terra-cotta bust, which passed 
 current, on what authority is not stated, for a speak 
 ing likeness of the renowned founder of Jamestown 
 colony; one or two bronze statuettes, on bracket?, 
 of famous mythological characters, a few select pic 
 tures of English hunting and pastoral scenes, a 
 dozen chairs of sundry patterns, a commodious sofa, 
 and an inviting settee, or kind of lounge; these, 
 with the books on the shelves, the map on the 
 wall, the dove-colored window curtains and one large 
 portrait, complete our tame description of this fairer 
 dwelling of heavenly pensive contemplation than the 
 awful monastic cell to which she has been ruth 
 lessly consigned by Pope and Parnell's melancholy 
 muse. The deeply-recessed windows looked out on 
 a wildering maze of shrubs and flowers, whose glories 
 had fled the approach of winter, and at no great 
 distance in the background towered, in regal pomp 
 of purple and gqld, the majestic forest, which was 
 Woodbourne's envied ornament and pride. Through 
 the latter a wide and deep ravine, making a natural 
 vista, afforded a tantalizing glimpse of the lovely 
 prospect beyond, bounded by the dark-blue line of 
 the Potomac, and the softer azure-hued "silent hills 
 and more than silent skies'"' of Maryland. Within, 
 every object was bright and alluring, and without 
 it was so dreamy and still it seemed as if all the 
 world, like the cat demurely dozing on the garden 
 fence, had gone to sleep under the drowsy influ 
 ence of the delicious November haze
 
 WOODBOU&HS. 65 
 
 Whose vapory folds o'er the landscape strays 
 And half involves the woodland maze, 
 
 Like an early widow's veil, 
 Where dimpling tissues from the gaze, 
 The form half hides and half betrays, 
 
 Of beauty wan and pale. 
 
 Whatever of agony and torturing care the self- 
 exiled wanderer may have suffered elsewhere, or 
 what the pangs, if any, he endured in secret at 
 home, assuredly they could not be laid to the charge 
 of the tutelary genius of this delightsome abode. 
 Such was Carleton's internal conviction as he took 
 in the whole charming scene at a glance, before 
 pausing to inspect the portrait which confronted 
 him. It was that of a rosy-cheeked, fair-haired boy 
 of sixteen summers, surprisingly beautiful and. radi 
 ant with the "purple light of love and bloom of 
 young desire." Looking on that exquisite picture, 
 how vividly came rushing into his memory the 
 mournful numbers of that psalm of life he knew by 
 heart, and there was an unsuspected pathos and 
 depth of feeling in his voice as he repeated aloud, 
 the lines, 
 
 Yet see how all around them waif, 
 
 The ministers of human fate, 
 
 And black misfortune's baleful train ! 
 
 Could that handsome cavalier, proud, self-reliant, 
 panoplied in complete armor for the fray in the 
 times which tried men's souls, have had a premo 
 nition of the evil days to come ? Had the unseen 
 hand of the wizard pushed aside the mystical cur 
 tain for a moment, and revealed to his gaze the 
 maimed and broken wreck of a noble form, racked 
 
 G*
 
 CO WOODBOUKNE. 
 
 upon a bed of suffering, on a lonely island, and 
 dying far from wife, and children, and friends, and 
 sacred home? He turned away with a sigh,, and 
 \valked to the book-case. Having diverted himself 
 there for awhile with turning over the leaves of 
 one or two books, and discovered that he was in 
 no humor for reading, he at last fell to contem 
 plating the old secretary in the corner, and sur 
 mising what it might have hid away in its num 
 berless receptacles. There was no telling how old 
 it was; it had the unmistakable impress of hoar 
 antiquity; had witnessed, no doubt, the passing 
 away of several generations, and consequently pos 
 sessed the irresistible attractions which surround the 
 proverbial tomb of secrets in every old house. It 
 should be remarked, however, that we Virginia 
 people have a queer delusion on the subject of anti- 
 quarianism, and are in the habit of speaking inva 
 riably of the Old Dominion, of colonial memory, in 
 that venerating way which seems to imply an 
 antediluvian existence, and of our blessed great 
 grandams as if they flourished at a period when 
 "Pharaoh's mother's mother's mummy" was a crispy- 
 headed marvel of toddling babyhood. 
 
 To resume, our young friend was in the best 
 possible frame of mind to indulge a roving, listless 
 curiosity, and he felt himself drawn towards the 
 mysterious object in the corner by an invisible 
 power. He could not forbear smiling at the eager 
 ness with which he found himself approaching it. 
 How ridiculous, he thought, the idea of expecting 
 to discover anything here which would throw a ray 
 of light on the subject of his idle cogitations. Of
 
 WOODBOURNE. 67 
 
 course, every hole and cranny had been probed and 
 peered into a hundred times over. Still he could 
 not divest himself of a certain vague, undefined 
 sensation that he was treading on the verge of u 
 wonderful revelation due in a great measure to the 
 reflection he was then making, that Dick had only 
 examined his uncle's papers in a careless, perfunc 
 tory manner, withotit reference to any particular 
 inquiry, and, therefore, had probably overlooked or 
 forgotten many things which he might consider 
 extremely significant in clearing up the mystery 
 concerning the late Mr. Austin and the Catholic 
 priest. The first drawer he opened contained naught 
 but a pile of uninviting rubbish, newspapers, pam 
 phlets, loose sheets of paper torn from old ledgers, 
 mingled in a confused mass, which showed the little 
 value in which they were held, and the many times 
 they had been rummaged over; so with the second 
 and the third, which, in addition to the trumpery 
 we have mentioned, were filled with an endless 
 assortment of disabled household utensils. The 
 fourth drawer was more attractive in appearance, 
 though it, too, promised very little towards reward 
 ing the painful researches of a curiosity hunter, 
 presenting, as it did, one sea of letters upon letters, 
 some of them tied up in packages, whilst others 
 lying open were fastened together in piles by a 
 thread, as if arranged for easy reference. They bore 
 the address of Mr. John Austin, and embraced the 
 greater portion of his voluminous correspondence 
 with distinguished men of his day, on topics of 
 public interest matter, perchance, valuable to the 
 future historian of the colony, but wholly uncon-
 
 68 WOODBOURNE. 
 
 cerned with the fortunes of the recluse. There was 
 a MS. among them, which proved to be an unfin 
 ished memoir and biographical sketch of his father, 
 on which Mr. Richard Austin was employed at the 
 time of his death. Having given this a hurried 
 perusal, and entertained himself for some time with 
 skimming over old letters, in which politics, the 
 price of tobacco and negroes, religious squabbles, 
 Indian depredations, Braddock's expedition, and other 
 matters relating to the welfare of the colony before 
 he was born, were mixed in an inextricable melange, 
 Carleton was about to close the drawer, when a 
 familiar hand-writing on the back of one of the 
 bundles of letters he had not disturbed arrested his 
 attention. It was from his father, who had once 
 been Mr. John Austin's colleague in the House of 
 Burgesses. He untied the package, and examined 
 the contents. The letters were all from the same 
 source, and of the same general purport consult 
 ing and comparing opinions on legislative matters. 
 All but one, which appeared to be strangely out 
 of place in that company, intruded there evidently 
 through inadvertence. These documents had been 
 carefully inspected by the author of the MS., .as 
 was shown by the copious extracts of them he had 
 made. The interloping epistle was addressed to 
 Richard Austin, Esquire, Gent.; N Store, 
 
 "W County, Virginia, As Carleton stood holding 
 
 the letter in his hand, and looking wonderingly at 
 the strange superscription, he again felt the sensa 
 tion of mysterious awe creeping over him. 
 
 " Psha ! " said he, striving to throw off the spell 
 with a contemptuous shrug; "what childish folly is
 
 WOODBOUIIXE. 69 
 
 this! One would think I was in the very act of 
 unrolling the dread scroll of fate, and reading what 
 it had in store for me, when, in fact, I am only 
 halloing my idle fancy on a wild-goose chase. There 
 is nothing in Mr. Eichard Austin's melancholy his 
 tory can affect my career in life. Yet, how do I 
 know that? Who can foretell the influence which 
 one man's lightest act or word may have on the 
 fortunes of others? Is not each of us a link in 
 the chain of inscrutable destiny? But a truce to 
 moralizing; let's see what is here." He opened the 
 letter, and read as follows: 
 
 LONDOX, Feb. 12, o.s., 1775. 
 MY DEAR SIR : 
 
 Yours, under date of jSTovember IGth, 1774, came to 
 hand only a fortnight ago, the vessel having been delayed 
 on the voyage over by stress of weather. Agreeable to 
 your wishes, I lost no time in calling upoii Sir William 
 Markham, M.P., at his lodgings in this city. Our inter 
 view was of the most pleasant and satisfactory charac 
 ter. Waiving preliminaries, I showed him your letter, 
 remarking that it would best explain the nature of my 
 business. He perused it with grave interest, and, as 
 I thought, suppressed emotion. After which he said, 
 "Please do me the kindness to say to Mr. Austin, that I 
 duly received his communication, ar>d that my failure to 
 acknowledge it involves a tedious and painful explana 
 tion, which shall be made as soon as I can command 
 sufficient leisure." He then told me of a visit he had 
 from a Catholic priest, who was apparently interested 
 about the same subject, and vhom he had treated very 
 cavalierly, to say the least, not having deigned even to 
 ask his name. Was that person in Mr. Austin's confi 
 dence? IE so, where could lie be found? I replied that 
 I had never heard you speak of such a person in con-
 
 70 AVOODBOURNE. 
 
 necticm with him, ami that I would advise you of the 
 circumstance ia my answer to your letter. With that 
 our conference ended. 
 
 The master of the Speedwell lias just called to inform 
 me that his vessel will drop down on the next tide, 
 and to know if I wish to send anything on board. As 
 I have several little commissions to dispatch, I must 
 bring this letter to a close. Please tell Mr. Copland 
 that his matter received prompt attention; I sent remit 
 tance to him last week in exchange on Amsterdam, for 
 fear of accidents. I yet hope and believe we will arrive 
 at a good understanding with the colonies. Let me 
 hear from you by the first opportunity. Communication 
 with America is becoming more and more uncertain 
 every day. Did you get the books shipped per packet 
 Rover 7 I am pleased to hear that your health continues 
 to improve. With best wishes, I remain, 
 
 Fa'thfully, your friend and obedient sen-ant, 
 
 JAMES BUCHANAN. 
 
 "February 12th, 1775," repeated Carleton, looking 
 back at the date of the letter; "received April 6th, 
 and answered on the 15th of the same month. Mr. 
 Austin died shortly after; and so ends the chapter. 
 How provoking. It is plain that Dick has not seen 
 this letter. The priest again. Can he be the same 
 Julian Soule? I have a mind to write to Mr. 
 Carroll." The sound of hurried footsteps in the 
 hall interrupted the train of his thoughts, and he 
 barely had time to thrust the letter in his bosom 
 before Alloway came bursting into the room. 
 
 " Halloo, old fellow," he exclaimed, in his hearty 
 way, as his eye fell on the open drawer of the 
 secretary; "what the. deuce are you up to there? 
 Could you find nothing better to console you for
 
 WOODBOURNE. 71 
 
 my absence than is to be got by gnawing at the 
 mouldy bare bones in that lumber chest? Come, 
 I am sure you need something to wash your throat 
 and help your digestion after such a musty repast. 
 You see I am back sooner than I promised," he 
 rattled on, while Carleton was re-arranging the con 
 tents of the drawer. " One of the referees was sick, 
 and the case had to be laid over. I would have 
 been here an hour ago, if I had not chanced to 
 fall in with Bob Temple on the road. He is always 
 brimful of news, and is a kind of good-natured, 
 gossiping burr that one finds hard to shake off. 
 To tell the truth, I relish a little of Bob once in 
 a while, taken fresh, but he gets to be consumedly 
 boring on too long and too frequent acquaintance. 
 Still, there is no great harm in the prattling jay 
 bird of a creature. He had been to Clifton, he 
 said, to pay his respects to the foreign gentleman 
 from France, who is Colonel Littleton's guest. 'For 
 eign gentleman,' said I; 'do you mean the fellow 
 who bolted into our chase yesterday, and out again, 
 like a clap of thunder?' 'The very same,' replied 
 Bob. 'You see, one of the colonel's hands was down 
 at my house betimes this morning for a load of 
 oysters, and he told me as how his master and 
 young mistress were just, the day before yesterday, 
 come home from Maryland, and brought with them 
 a mighty nice gentleman, they called Mr. Conrad a 
 beau Miss Mary had caught somewhere over the 
 river. So I thought it was the civil thing to do 
 for me to ride up and call on the distinguished 
 stranger, for between us, not to go any farther, 
 there is no manner of doubt about it, he is a count
 
 72 WOODBOURXE. 
 
 or marquis, or something of the sort, as sure as a 
 gun's iron.' ' Marquis, fiddlesticks ! ' said I ; ' more 
 likely a runagate of a dancing master, or abscond 
 ing vatit-de-cliambre. Did you see him?' 'No,' said 
 he, ' he was gone to ride with Miss Littleton. I 
 sat some time waiting for them to return, when 
 who should walk in but my especial aversion, old 
 Jake Thompson' he gave Bob his title of Daily 
 Postman 'he was come for his usual dish of pol 
 itics with the colonel, and they were soon at it 
 tooth and nail, talking, and swearing, and gesticu 
 lating like mad. That sort of fuming and raving 
 did not suit me, so I left my compliments for the 
 marquis, and promised to call again.' Marquis, 
 quotha! and this philandering Monsieur Magnifico 
 is Miss Littleton's latest conquest. A second Portia 
 is my fair cousin, and this another Colchos strand 
 for many Jasons," and Dick closed the library 
 door with a bang, and led the way to the dining- 
 room in the loftiest imaginable state of scornful 
 incredulity. Carleton was too busily occupied with 
 his own thoughts to pay attention to this disdainful 
 ebullition. When they had finished their toddy, and 
 were seated together on the porch, he adroitly turned 
 the conversation into the channel in which he 
 wished it to flow.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 T had not escaped his guest's keen obser 
 vation that Mr. Richard Alloway Avas 
 more deeply agitated than he cared to 
 acknowledge by that incident concerning 
 the Catholic priest. Evidently, it had not before 
 occurred to him that there was aught of especial 
 interest in his uncle's lonely career to anybody but 
 his own family and small circle of friends. His 
 emotion, on hearing Carleton's story, was that of 
 undisguised wonder at a most unexpected revelation. 
 The fact that a stranger, whose name he did not 
 remember to have ever heard from Mr. Austin's 
 lips, was so much interested to find him out, was 
 well calculated to excite in a less sensitive mind 
 than Dick's something more serious than a transi 
 tory feeling of curiosity. Duly respecting the ten 
 der and affectionate reverence with which his friend 
 invested the memory of his uncle, Carleton observed 
 the utmost delicacy in approaching the subject. 
 
 "What a charming library you have, Dick," said 
 he; "nothing of the awful or mysterious to be seen 
 there." 
 
 "It is the brightest spot about the house," replied 
 Dick; "everything is just as uncle left it, except 
 
 7 (73)
 
 74 VVOODBOURNE. 
 
 the portrait, which took the place of one of my 
 grandfather I pointed out to you in the hall. 
 He had the room repaired and newly painted last 
 spring shortly before his death. He was very par 
 tial to it, and spent a third of his time there in 
 the old arm-chair beside the table." 
 
 Harry. "How did he occupy himself?" 
 
 Dick. "Usually in reading and meditation ; lat 
 terly he wrote a good deal, being interested in 
 preparing memoirs of his father and other eminent 
 men of that day. You may have seen the MS. 
 among those old papers?" 
 
 Harry. "I read portions of it; he has paid my 
 father the compliment of quoting extensively from 
 his letters to Mr. John Austin. He was alone, I 
 imagine, the greater part of the time." 
 
 Dick. "Yes; frequently during the day and always 
 at night until his regular hour for retiring, he had 
 the room entirely to himself. It was his custom 
 of a morning and evening, when the weather was 
 good, to walk awhile in the garden and look after 
 the flowers, of which he was very fond, and now 
 and then he would have his chair brought out in 
 the shade of the oak tree on the lawn; still, with 
 Prospero, he might truthfully say, his library was 
 his dukedom." 
 
 Harry. "And you are positively certain he left 
 nothing in the way of writings except the unfin 
 ished memoirs ? " 
 
 Dick. "That is certainly my firm belief." 
 
 Harry. "You have, then, made a thorough search 
 among his papers?" 
 
 Dick. "His papers? Why he left nothing but
 
 WOODBOURNE. 73 
 
 what you saw. Most of that rubbish in the old 
 secretary was a legacy from my grandfather; I have 
 never had the least inclination, to say nothing of the 
 leisure, to overhaul it. As for the unfinished mem 
 oirs, pendunt opera interrnpta, and so they are likely 
 to remain for this generation, if they look to me 
 for completion. But why are you so inquisitive, 
 Harry ? did you find a mare's nest in that ancient 
 heirloom ? By Jove ! old fellow " It should be 
 remarked in this place, par parenthese, that Mr. 
 Richard Alloway had a habit of frequently appeal 
 ing, in a familiar manner, to the great Olympian 
 Thunderer, whether as a meaningless expletive 
 merely, or a convenient rhetorical safety-valve, or as 
 his peculiar way of making known his veneration 
 of the ancient classics, we cannot undertake to say. 
 "By Jove! old fellow, I verily believe you are a 
 regular professor of black magic. That look, now, 
 < angels and ministers of grace defend us ! ' Do 
 they teach necromancy in your famous Wittenberg 
 in New Jersey?" 
 
 Carleton laughed, and putting off the mask of 
 simulated awe he had Avaggishly assumed, " Don't 
 be alarmed, Dick," said he; "I am not trying to 
 work upon your superstitious fears. My questioning 
 was only intended to make certain whether you 
 had ever seen this letter." 
 
 Alloway took it from his hand, and seeing to 
 whom it was addressed, became, on an instant, very 
 grave and thoughtful. When he had perused it 
 twice over, he fell into a profound reverie, and 
 began whistling in a low undertone a sign,- as his 
 friend well knew, that he was perplexed to an
 
 70 
 
 extraordinary degree. Carleton, too, dropped into a 
 brown study. To his susceptible imagination, the 
 letter revealed a fascinating scene of wild and 
 startling conjecture. It was like a voice from the 
 grave of the buried past, whose weird, unearthly 
 tone vibrated on his heart, and called up a throng 
 of fantastic and shadowy images. The torturing illu 
 sions of his last night's dream faded into nothing 
 ness before the consciousness of some unknown life- 
 mystery Avhich lay hidden, as he conceived, under 
 the ivy green an arrow's flight from where he sat, 
 pondering on the strange words he had read. 
 
 " You observed the allusion there to the priest, 
 Dick," he at length said, musingly; "he is the 
 veritable deus ex machina of our mystery. Of course 
 it can be no other than the Abbe Julian Soule." 
 
 "Like enough," replied Dick; "but it was not of 
 him I was thinking. Markham, Markham why, 
 that was the name of the unfortunate hero of 
 uncle's pathetic little romance; and, what is like 
 wise remarkable, the other prominent character, a 
 lady, was called Conrad; it is an Italian story of 
 cruelty and revenge." 
 
 Harry. "Do tell it to me, Dick." 
 
 Dick. "No, no; I would not like to mar it by 
 a hap-hazard recital; besides, it is too long to 
 remember. I have it written down in my common 
 place book just as uncle narrated it, and another time 
 yon may read it for yourself. Let me see; where 
 was it that I saw mention of Sir "William Markham? 
 Oh, I remember now; in looking over a batch of 
 old English newspapers on the top of one of those 
 book-cases in the library. It occurs in an account
 
 WOODBOUKMTE. 77 
 
 of the proceedings in Parliament; he is reported to 
 have made a strong speech in defence of the people 
 of Massachusetts. The passage was marked with a 
 pencil, but I did not see anything specially note 
 worthy in it." 
 
 Harry. "And nothing further has been heard 
 from Mr. Buchanan?" 
 
 Dick. "0, yes; I have had one letter from uncle's 
 factor; I'll show it to you, it is such a perfect 
 model of commercial neatness and brevity." He 
 went in, and soon came back with an open letter, 
 which he handed Carleton, who read it as follows: 
 
 CHEAPSIDE, LONDON, 12th Aug., 1775, 
 ESTEEMED SIR: 
 
 Inclosed please find account of iny late correspondent, 
 Mr. Richard Austin (whose sole devisee and legatee J 
 am advised you are), stated to date of his demise, show 
 ing balance to his credit of 967, 8s. G]d., which is 
 subject to your instructions. 
 
 Begging you to accept the assurance of my sincere 
 condolence in your recent sad bereavement, I subscribe 
 myself. 
 
 Most respectfully, your obedient humble servant, 
 
 JAMES BUCHANAN, Merchant, 
 For MB. RICII'D A. ALLOWAY. 
 
 "Neat as a copper plate, and, doubtless, very cor 
 rect; but not a syllable about the baronet and the 
 priest," said Carleton. 
 
 "And pray," said Dick, "why should Mr. Bu 
 chanan suppose that I felt any interest in these 
 distinguished persons ? " 
 
 Harry. "Nothing was more reasonable than for
 
 78 WOODBOURXE. 
 
 him to infer that Mr. Richard Austin's favorite 
 nephew shared his intimate confidence, and ought, 
 therefore, to be informed of whatever pertained to his 
 private and peculiar transactions." 
 
 Dick. "Then, I am glad he did not take your 
 very reasonable view of the case. It is my opinion 
 that there is nothing to be gained by boggling after 
 this plaguey will-o'-wisp of a mystery, as you call 
 it, which, if found out, would be of as little concern 
 to you and me as what is this moment coming to 
 pass at the Antipodes,'' with which conclusive 
 remark, Alloway folded up the merchant's letters 
 and put them in his pocket. 
 
 Carleton was not a little puzzled by his friend's 
 nonchalance. He could not exactly divine what 
 was the nature of the sensations which had been 
 awakened in the young planter's mind by the dis 
 closures he had made. Was it real or feigned, his 
 repugnance to pursuing the investigation? Yet, his 
 behavior was in keeping with his general character. 
 His nature was too earnest and matter-of-fact; his 
 temper too hopeful and elastic to suffer him to 
 brood over the past, or vex his soul with chasing 
 the fleeting phantom of a heated imagination. He 
 was never at a loss for active, wholesome employ 
 ment for mind and body, and his " bosom's lord 
 sat lightly on its throne," now that he was assured 
 by the eacredest of human vows of the joy which is 
 immeasurably above and beyond all other earthly ben- 
 isons, the immediate jewel of the soul, requited love. 
 
 "It is a tough case," s:ich was Carleton's inter 
 nal reflection; "but I am not yet disposed to give 
 it up. I was always expert in unravelling tangled 
 skeins, and see if I don't yet succeed in running
 
 WOODlfOUKNE. 79 
 
 this thread off on a reel. The first thing to do 
 is to ascertain what the Abbe wants with Mr. 
 Eichard Metcalf, otherwise, Austin. That my father 
 can do when he replies to Mr. Carroll's letter. 
 But it occurs to me that Monsieur Conrad may be 
 able to give us some information on the subject; 
 at least, he can tell us who the Abbe is. He came 
 hither from Maryland in Miss Littleton's train, and 
 her sister is a near neighbor to the Carrolls', where 
 the priest is sojourning. Being fellow-countrymen 
 and strangers in a strange land, they must be known 
 to each other. Dick," said he, suddenly arousing 
 his friend from the pleasant doze into which he 
 had fallen, "suppose we call upon the Frenchman 
 in the morning?" 
 
 "You must excuse me, Harry," said Dick hastily; 
 "to-morrow I shall be busy at home; besides, I 
 want you to ride with me over the farm. I flatter 
 myself that I have made sundry improvements of 
 late, the hint of which I got from my neighbor, 
 Mr. Graeme. Speaking of him, I am reminded that 
 I have a note of invitation for you to a party at 
 Bonhill; here it is." 
 
 "A party?" exclaimed Carleton; "that is lucky. 
 I shall have a chance to see all my friends in a 
 lump. 'Mr. and Mrs. John Graeme will be pleased 
 to see Mr. Carleton at Bonhill on Friday night, 
 instant, on the occasion of their daughter's birth 
 day party.' What a beautiful hand good sign, says 
 my Lord Chesterfield, of a graceful person and an 
 amiable disposition. Come, old boy, wake up, and 
 tell me all about the Graemes.'' 
 
 But we will save Mr. Alloway tli3 trouble of 
 complying with that modest request.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 APPILY blended in mutual love and esteem 
 had been the lives of John and Ellen 
 Graeme from the day they plighted troth 
 to each other under the rowan-tree, on 
 the banks of Leven "Water, to the date of the 
 present memoirs. Goldenly bright had the hours 
 flown over their heads; their house was the garner 
 of the choicest gifts of fortune, and the neighbors, 
 one and all, came to regard them as an example 
 of matrimonial felicity, which the most inveterate 
 celibate must envy and applaud. 
 
 But now again the heavens are hung with black, 
 and the future looks dark and ominous of approach 
 ing ills. True, the entire country is involved in a 
 common trouble, the same perils menace all alike; 
 but none of her neighbors had with her experi 
 enced the actual calamities of civil war, and the 
 prospect of another sanguinary struggle between 
 'kinsmen and former friends calls up, with all the 
 dread accompaniments of horror and alarm, the 
 woeful tragedy in which she had borne more than 
 her equal portion of sorrow and suffering. To others 
 it is as yet the vague apprehension of unknown 
 and indefinable ills; to her it is the present reali- 
 
 (80)
 
 WOODBOUEXE. 81 
 
 z.ition of the acme of human misery, the sum of all 
 the wretchedness that the worst passions of the vilest 
 men can invoke upon their sinful race; ever the 
 self-same demon of wrath and desolation, red with 
 the stains of all the righteous blood shed upon the 
 earth, whether welling slow, drop by drop, from th.3 
 breast of the first victim of murderous rage, or 
 poured forth in crimson torrents 
 
 When merciless ambition or mad zeal 
 
 Has led two hosts of dupes to battlefield, 
 
 That, blind, they there may dig each others graves, 
 
 And call the sad work, Glory ! 
 
 Husband and wife had kept, with religious fidelity, 
 the vow they had made to each other long years 
 ago, and never a word had passed the lips of either 
 on the one forbidden topic. But Mr. Graeme can 
 not help perceiving the change which has come 
 over his wife's spirits, and he intuitively divines 
 the secret cause of her trouble. He sees that a 
 great dread is constantly hanging over her, threat 
 ening to fall with crushing weight. Again busy 
 memory is at work, reviving the agonies which are 
 past, and filling her soul with wretched forebodings 
 of worst to come; again 
 
 The field of the slain rushes red on her sight, 
 
 And the clans of Culloden are scattered in flight ! 
 
 9 
 
 Every day she grew more and more nervous and 
 disquieted, and her husband's anxiety increased in 
 proportion. Yet she firmly held by their mutual 
 pledge, and he was waiting for her to release him. 
 So it Avent on, until one night Mr. Graeme was 
 greatly startled to hear her gobbing violently in
 
 82 AV00DBOURNT. 
 
 her sleep, and repeating, in piteous accents, the 
 names of her father, brother and son. Next morn 
 ing the seal of the covenant was broken. She 
 unbosomed her soul to her husband, and earnestly 
 besought him to send George away to Scotland 
 until they saw how these unhappy troubles were 
 likely to end. The request was an agreeable sur 
 prise to the worthy gentleman. He had a project 
 in reference to his son's future career in life, which 
 he had forborne te mention since the lad's return 
 from Williamsburg some months agone, for fear it 
 would not meet his mother's approval in the then 
 agitated state of her mind, as it required for its 
 accomplishment a separation from George of several 
 years. 
 
 Although Mr. John Graeme was never heard to 
 set up a pretence of being a very profound scholar, 
 he was by no means so unlearned as to be an 
 object of pity on a rainy day. In all the branches 
 of practical and useful information, he was far in 
 advance of the most polished and polite of his neigh 
 bors. It had been his particular pride to keep 
 abreast with the scientific improvements of the age; 
 he was familiarly acquainted with the latest inven 
 tions of mechanical skill, and had been instru 
 mental in introducing some of them to the commu 
 nity in which lie resided. When he abandoned mer 
 cantile pursuits, he transferred to his new avocation 
 of farming his entire stock of method, energy and 
 sagacity, and his example had imparted a fresh 
 impulse to agricultural development, which was 
 especially evidenced in the inroads which the culti 
 vation of the cereals was beginning to make on
 
 WOODBOURNE. 83 
 
 the growth of the great commercial staple of the 
 colony. He was a noble instance of genuine, sturdy 
 independence. He bought nothing abroad which 
 could be as well made at home. No appliances 
 were wanting in his administration to make the 
 business of farming at once easy, economical and 
 remunerative. He had constructed, on his plan 
 tation, a smithy and a large shop, where carpen 
 ter, wheel right and cooper's work was done, and 
 where many of the implements and utensils of hus 
 bandry were made out and out from the most 
 approved models. Then there was the "ship-yard," 
 at which all manner of small boats and larger 
 river craft were built and repaired; but the splendid 
 "double mills," in the ownership of Which his 
 neighbor, Colonel Littleton, claimed a half interest, 
 were the pride and delight of the whole country 
 side, turning out flour which rivalled in quality 
 the famous Mount Vcrnon brand, with its unim 
 peachable inscription, " G. Washington ! " The par 
 aphernalia of his peculiar sanctum, the room in 
 which he entertained his particular cronies, displayed 
 the ruling characteristics of his mind; every article 
 of furniture having been manufactured on the spot, 
 from the plentiful supply of material of maple, 
 oak, cherry, walnut and pine, stored up in the 
 commodious warehouse of the neighboring forest. 
 In short, albeit Mr. John Graeme was theoretically 
 an avowed advocate of free trade and sailors' rights 
 in the broadest sense, he was in practice as per 
 fect an illustration of home-brewed, home-loving, 
 and home-protecting industry and frugality as one 
 rarely meets with now-a-days.
 
 84 WOODBOUPNE. 
 
 George's fortune was already made, as far as 
 worldly goods were concerned; he should, so his 
 father thought, learn to devote his leisure and 
 means to the prosecution of such useful aims and 
 purposes as here found abundant scope for active 
 exemplification. As a preparation for this field of 
 usefulness, it was designed that the young gentle 
 man should perfect his theoretical studies in phys 
 ical science at the University of Glasgow, after 
 which he was to visit and inspect its more recent 
 discoveries, as exhibited in the various factories and 
 workshops of Europe. 
 
 But whilst Mr. Graeme was no doubt mainly 
 solicitous to see his son embarked on his magnifi 
 cent voyag3 of scientific exploration, there was 
 another motive, we have good reason to suspect, 
 for his acceding so promptly to his wife's request. 
 Master George was a remarkably susceptible youth, 
 as the phrase is, and, more is the pity, had fallen 
 madly in love with a lady who did not see fit to 
 return his inordinate attachment. The consequence 
 was, that he had grown, of late, very miserable 
 and melancholy, and his father reasonably concluded 
 that the best remedy for the disease of unrequited 
 love was to be found in "change o' fowk and 
 change o' scene.'' Secretly, the old gentleman , was 
 himself considerably cut up by his son's lamentable 
 misadventure in the mart of matrimonial speculation. 
 He was an extravagant admirer of Miss Mary Lit 
 tleton, and had George's suit prospered, he would 
 have hailed the event with beaming satisfaction. 
 As it Avas, he did not altogether despair of its 
 being a match one of these days. George was
 
 AVOODBOURXE. 85 
 
 hardly better than a grown-up boy; his education 
 for the stern pursuits of life was just begun, and 
 nobody could foresee the difference which a few 
 years might make in those qualities which attract 
 a woman's wayward fancy. While the fair maid of 
 Clifton remained mistress of her inclinations, there 
 Avas ground for the hope that she might be per 
 suaded to look at the proposition in a more favora 
 ble light. So argued paterfamilias on the general 
 theory of probabilities. B*ut we shall presently see 
 that the capricious divinity, who regulates these little 
 matters, had decreed that his sanguine calculations 
 should be cruelly disappointed. 
 
 For the reasons we have detailed, Mr. Graeme 
 consented with alacrity to his wife's entreaties, and 
 George sailed in the next outward-bound vessel for 
 Glasgow. There let us leave him for the present, to 
 quench the flame of his ill-starred passion, and at 
 the same time to temper the ardor of his patriotic 
 soul by contact with the discreet and calculating 
 burghers of that aspiring and eminently loyal me 
 tropolis. "When he was gone, and had written to 
 tell them of his safe arrival in Scotland, and of 
 the pleasant reception he had met with among his 
 father's friends and relatives there, his mother 
 appeared to be greatly relieved, regained much of 
 her old cheerfulness, and went about her house 
 hold duties with the diligence and grace which 
 were the ruling traits of her disposition. Thus des 
 perately she clung to the faint hope of a happy 
 issue out of this last great affliction, and watched 
 with wistful eyes and palpitating heart every sign 
 and portent of the political heavens. But the clouds
 
 86 WOODBOURNE. 
 
 continued . to gather thick and fast, and every day 
 the palpable darkness was increasing; now the air 
 was filled with the sulphury vapor of war; the 
 Involution was begun in earnest, and Mrs. Graeme's 
 faith in the emblematical evening sky was shaken 
 as a reed. The hour was fast approaching; she felt 
 it was close at hand when the irrevocable decision 
 must be made, and while she prayed the more fer 
 vently that she might yet be spared the dreadful 
 ordeal, her heart indignantly spurned the base sug 
 gestion that her darling son would prove a recreant 
 to the cause of his native land. Now that she saw 
 the fearful alternative could not be much longer 
 avoided, she sought to divert her mind from the 
 contemplation of the painful scene by constant em 
 ployment. In vain her husband protested that she 
 was over-exerting herself; she only smiled at his 
 remonstrances, and said he was mistaken; the work 
 was good for her. Thus she continued to pay the 
 most assiduous attention to every demand of duty 
 until an untoward accident compelled her desist. 
 
 There had been a sort of epidemic prevailing in 
 the neighborhood during the month of August of 
 this year a virulent type of fever of which the 
 medical faculty were at loss for an explanation. The 
 distemper was said to be contagious, and every pre 
 caution was taken to prevent its spreading. Bonhill 
 did not escape its ravages; half of the servants 
 were taken down with it, and the other half were 
 stupefied with terror, waiting for their time to come. 
 Amid this scene of suffering and dismay there moved 
 a ministering spirit with the balm of solacing joy 
 und healing on its wings. It was the lovely mis-
 
 WOODBOURXE. 87 
 
 tress of the manor, fulfilling her mission with that 
 serene, unshrinking heroism, which shames the high 
 est courage of man. The plague abated, and, thanks 
 to her unwearied exertions, there was not a single 
 death from its effects on the plantation. 
 
 By a miracle of mercy the good matron escaped 
 its fangs, but the fatigue and exposure she had 
 undergone in nursing the sick so impaired her 
 health and weakened her constitution, that her phy 
 sician peremptorily commanded her to refrain from 
 her accustomed labors. Thus, reluctantly constrained, 
 she sought the needful refreshment of rest, and sur 
 rendered the sceptre for a time into her daughter's 
 hand. And, her father's word for it, that young 
 lady wiqlded it in queenly style. 
 
 Where is the woman that does not exult to exer 
 cise authority, in her rightful sphere, of course? 
 It was amusing to see the old gentleman, who was 
 used to nothing short of unquestioned obedience, 
 watching the little woman as she bustled about the 
 house, issuing her commands, and showing her love 
 of sway in a thousand nameless ways. Especially 
 did he note the delight it gave her to move all the 
 portable property in that inner shrine of his at least 
 once a day without the slightest provocation, merely 
 to intimate that her will was the supreme law of 
 the establishment. He offered not a word of remon 
 strance or complaint against such outrageous display 
 of arbitrary power; indeed he rather encouraged her 
 to play the imperial role on the grandest scale. 
 The day would come when she would have a little 
 domestic kingdom of her own, and it was high time 
 she was learning how to govern it. Like other vice-
 
 88 WOODBOUKXE. 
 
 royal personages, she was frequently a trifle more 
 exacting and unnecessarily fussy than there was any 
 occasion for; and she never failed to resent the 
 least hint that she was in any wise departing from 
 the established rules of the legitimate sovereign. 
 "Ole Missis didn't do dat way" was an affront not 
 to be tolerated, even from Aunt Dinah, a venerable 
 domestic oracle whom her mother often deigned to 
 consult. Miss Lucy was not content with sporting 
 the tawdry trappings of place; her maxim was, 
 Aut Ccesar, aut nullus ; she would be the real 
 fountain of dignity and power, or else not wear the 
 purple robe at all. Errors and blunders she might 
 commit at first; but better these than irresolution, 
 weakness and vacillation. First establish your throne 
 was what she said to herself; impress your subjects 
 with becoming deference and respect of your au 
 thority; learn to command; the minor details of 
 administration are easily learned by observation and 
 practice. This was her code, and, to our thinking, 
 Machievilli nor Oxensteirn could liave expressed it 
 with more sententious and discerning perspicacity. 
 The neighbors were wont to say of Lucy that 
 she w r as her father's own dear child. In certain 
 prominent traits of character, as well as in personal 
 appearance, there was a striking likeness between 
 father and daughter. The same sunshiny and mirth 
 ful disposition; the same self-reliance and firmness, 
 blended with gentleness and forbearance towards 
 others; the same large-hearted and spontaneous be 
 nevolence; the same shrewd and penetrating common 
 sense and even placidity of temper; the same in 
 stinctive abhorrence of ill-natured carping and evil-
 
 \VOODBOUKNE. 89 
 
 speaking in a word, every quality for which the 
 one was noted found its counterpart in. the other. 
 If not the bonniest, she was the most irresistibly 
 charming and winsome of lassies. Her figure was 
 slight, though far from being fragile, and her 
 every movement was the perfection of unconstrained 
 grace. Her complexion was a rich combination of 
 unrivalled tints; her temples were literally crowned 
 with a golden diadem of sunny locks; her eyes, 
 the color of the cloudless sky, beamed with playful 
 mirth and mischief, and her smile was a foretaste 
 of the joys of heaven. She had her mother's rare 
 gift of music, and her voice was melody itself. 
 True, the harpsichord was the only instrument she 
 had ever learned to play on, and singing simple 
 ballads and hymns was the extent of her vocal 
 attainments, but in these her execution was unri-. 
 vailed, and she was justly regarded as a musical 
 prodigy in all the region around and about. 
 
 Her sweetest songs were those of her father's 
 native land. She had the whole of Allan Ramsay 'a 
 collection by heart, and she learned them not merely 
 for the sake of gratifying Mr, Graeme's clannish 
 devotion to the customs and associations of Scotland, 
 but because there was an indescribable charm to 
 her in the language itself, which rendered it go far 
 superior to her mother tongue in expressing the 
 tenderest and most exquisite touches of sentiment, 
 humor and pathos. In this way, too, she acquired 
 so great familiarity with the dialect and current 
 literature of Scotland, that between her mother and 
 herself, her father was never at a loss for a pleasant 
 companion in his rambles whenever he felt inclined, 
 
 8*
 
 90 WOODBOUItNE. 
 
 as he often did, "to gae daunering like a gliaist 
 amang the sweet and mournfu' memories o' lang 
 syne." 
 
 And when the morning and evening air was 
 vocal with her delicious warblings, he was never 
 heard to lament that there were no linties in the 
 Bonhill woods. Thus joyous and loving, tender and 
 true, surrounded by all holy influences, enshrined 
 in her happy home like a pearl in its shell, grew 
 into the perfect form of modest maidenhood, this 
 "so fair a thing, so free from mortal taint." 
 
 To-morroAV come and gone, Miss Lucy Graeme 
 will have reached her eighteenth birthday. The joy 
 ful event is to be celebrated with appropriate fes 
 tivities with music, dancing and feasting, amid the 
 happy congratulations of her numerous young friends 
 and admirers. The invitations have gone out through 
 the length and breadth of the neighborhood, and 
 there is sure to be a goodly gathering of the beauty 
 and chivalry of the Old Dominion under Mr. 
 Graeme's hospitable roof-tree. In those days a wed 
 ding was the especial grand occasion for the dis 
 play of cheerful hilarity and festive munificence; 
 but then, as now, and as it ever will and ought 
 to be, young folks would be young folks, and they 
 were not slow in finding or inventing pretexts for 
 frolic, fun and glee, as outlets and safety-valves for 
 the effervescing spirits of abounding gaiety and 
 light-hearted mirth.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 I HE friends have returned from their visit 
 to Bonhill. A fire has been kindled in 
 the library, and there -we now find them. 
 The visitor fs reclining negligently on the 
 sofa, loosely arrayed in dressing gown and slippers, 
 garterless stockings and open shirt collar, and enjoy 
 ing, to the utmost degree, the luxurious ease with 
 out troubling his head about the dignity of the 
 position. He looks dreamily up at the ceiling, and 
 runs his fingers through his hair in a ruminating 
 way. In striking contrast to this picture of musing 
 indolence, mine host is sitting bolt-upright in a 
 straight-back chair, with a resigned and martyr-like 
 aspect, presenting a complacent exhibition of the 
 loftiest qualities of heroism and fortitude under the 
 most trying circumstances. He is gazing fixedly at 
 the rugged bust over the mantle-piece, and is obvi 
 ously rehearsing in imagination the part of the 
 redoubtable warrior in the famous scene where the 
 murderous club is hovering over his devoted head, 
 and he, wholly in the dark concerning the humane 
 intentions of the lovely Pocahontas, swears a soldierly 
 prayer or two preparatory to taking final leave of 
 his senses. 
 
 (91)
 
 92 WOODBOURNE. 
 
 Carleton (loquilei}. "Dick," said he, "I am de 
 lighted with your Scotch neighbor; was never more 
 agreeably entertained than I have been this even 
 ing, saving your delectable company." 
 
 "Ah, indeed," was the reply; "I am heartily glad 
 you were so much pleased with your visit. It is 
 a pity, though, we did not stay to supper. Such 
 ambrosial porridge, such nectareous usquebagh, and, 
 
 Apicius! what a hantle o' gude eating there is 
 about a swine!" 
 
 Harry. "Don't be a fool, Dick. I hope you have 
 not repeated that contemptible saying of Dr. John 
 son at my expense. The ioke would have been 
 sorry enough in the mouth of a clown; coming 
 from a grave moralist, it was simply disgusting." 
 
 Dick (paying no regard to the energetic dis 
 claimer). "I say, Harry, what a deal of humor 
 there is in those lines of Churchill. You remem 
 ber? The "Prophecy of Famine." 
 
 Two boys whose .birth, beyond all question, springs 
 From great and glorious, though forgotten kings, 
 Shepherds of Scottish lineage 
 
 1 forget the rest, but it was intensely witty and 
 droll the part about Sawny and Jockey, and the 
 Highland lass who scratched her lover into rest 
 and sank pleased and hungry on his breast." 
 
 Harry. "Stuff and nonsense. Churchill was a 
 coarse, vulgar calumniator just what Hogarth 
 painted him a Leer-drinking bear in a dirty, black 
 gown." 
 
 Dick (still impassably severe of mein). "Of course 
 you undertook to enlighten the benighted Jockey
 
 \VOODBOURNE. 93 
 
 on politics and got a taunt of one that makes 
 better fritters of English than Parson Hugh in the 
 play, ' Hont, tout, lad ; dinna fash yer noddle wi' 
 sic and orra deal o' fusionless whigmaleries, it's 
 fient a bit else but an auld toot on a neAV horn, 
 yer 'screed o' independence and a' that. What ken 
 ye noo o' the steam engine?" 
 
 'Admirably mimicked, Dick," cried Carleton, clap 
 ping his hands with delight and laughing heartily. 
 "What a genius you have for the languages. But 
 amor vincit omnia, to win the daughter you would 
 learn to gabble all the barbarous dialects that were 
 ever grunted or squeaked since the building of 
 Babel. Is Miss Lucy like her father?" 
 
 " The young lady," replied the imperturable Eich- 
 ard, who all this while had not taken his eyes 
 from the effigy of the Jamestown hero, "is reputed 
 to possess the combined excellent qualities of both 
 her parents. In personal appearance, she is strik 
 ingly like her father." 
 
 Harry. " Then, sir, I give you fair warning ; look 
 to your girth and stirrups, I am coming at you 
 full tilt." 
 
 "I accept the gage, most peerless mirror of knight 
 hood," retorted Dick, "and will contest the prize 
 in accordance with the ancient laws and usages of 
 our illustrious and never-to-be too highly extolled 
 order." 
 
 " Gallantly spoken, renowned Cid, Amadis de Gaul, 
 Guy of Warwick, or " 
 
 "Captain John Smith," exclaimed Dick, with 
 emphatic gusto; "he is my beau-ideal of chivalry; 
 worth an army of your huge iron-clad, spine-cleavers
 
 94 WOODBOURNE. 
 
 of romance. Where would we be now if it had 
 not been for him ? " 
 
 Harry. "A shrewd question, truly, Sir Knight; 
 in my opinion, we might have been in a much 
 worse place. But as Horatio says in the play, that 
 were to inquire too curiously. I agree with you; the 
 Smiths are an ancient, honorable and powerful clan, 
 and our John Smith, of glorious memory, was the 
 greatest son of Vulcan that ever forged a horse 
 shoe or a thunderbolt. If he had only rounded 
 the period by marrying the dusky maiden he Avould 
 have been the bright, particular star of chivalry, 
 totus, teresatque rotundus! By the beard of the 
 immortal Cid Hamete Ben Engeli, he should have 
 married her had she been a common scullery wench, 
 and her complexion the 'shadowed livery of the 
 burnished sun,' instead of being what she really 
 was a royal model of innocent simplicity and untu 
 tored loveliness, copper-colored, to be sure, setl ne 
 nimium crede colori! Honor bright, don't you con 
 sider that to be a black spot on the otherwise 
 untarnished escutcheon of the paragon of Smiths?" 
 
 Dick. "I don't view it in that light. Suppose 
 he did not love the girl?" 
 
 Harry. "Answered like the silly, sighing Strephon 
 you are. What had love to do with it, simpleton? 
 It was a question of sheer gratitude; and, more 
 Latin for you, the poet tells us, ingratum si dix- 
 cris, omnia dices! It was most reprehensible con 
 duct in Captain John Smith, say what you please; 
 and history will set a cross mark against it in 
 spite of the brilliant renown of his warlike deeds." 
 
 Dick. " He wasn't near so much to blame as
 
 WOODBOURNE. 95 
 
 Avas the pious founder of the Roman colony in his 
 treatment of Madam Dido; and isn't he cracked up 
 by Virgil and the rest as a marvellous proper 
 man?" 
 
 Harry. "It is not a parallel case, my boy, by 
 any means. ^Eneas' work had been allotted him by 
 inexorable fate, and espousing the pretty Dido was 
 not included in the programme. He was like Ulysses 
 dallying at the Calypso isle while Ithaca was yet 
 afar. With Captain John Smith it was entirely dif 
 ferent. There was nothing to prevent his taking a 
 wife at the time; and to my mind, there was poetic 
 fitness in his offering his hand to the generous 
 woman who had saved his life, and who, laying 
 aside the prejudice of caste, was worthy to mate 
 with a hero; but he did not do it, and the romance 
 was sadly marred." 
 
 Dick. "For that matter, there Avas ever so thrill 
 ing a tragedy spoiled on that memorable occasion. 
 If. as you surmise, this lovely Ariadne of the west 
 ern wilds was so frantically enamored of our hero, 
 why in the name of Melpomene did she not jump 
 in the river and drown herself, when she saw it 
 was a hopeless case?" 
 
 The sprightly cavalier was nonplussed by this 
 unexpected turn of the subject. 
 
 "I cry quits, Dick," said he. "And now, sir, 
 explain, where were your manners that you did not 
 introduce me to the Bonhill beauty this evening?" 
 
 "That's the crow you have to pick with me, is 
 it?" replied Dick. "A pretty question, indeed. I 
 might as well ask, where was your gallantry that 
 you did not pay due homage to the lady in ques-
 
 96 WOODBOURNE. 
 
 tion? You told me your business with Mr. Graeme 
 would not take up a minute's time, and there 
 you were closeted together, like a couple of sage 
 privy councillors, for two mortal hours. After the 
 interview, you sent me word that you were ready 
 to go, and I obeyed your wishes. You did not 
 once mention the lady's name." 
 
 Harry. "All right, old fellow; the fact is, I 
 preferred making my first bow en grand temie 
 to-morrow night, and as I found Mr. Graeme to be 
 most excellent company " ("And his wine did not 
 smack of creosote," interjected Dick.) "And you 
 were not at all averse from having Miss Lucy all 
 to yourself in the garden, there is '' 
 
 Dicl\ "Nothing more to be said on the subject." 
 
 Harry. "No yes, Dick; about this Frenchman, 
 now, I am consumedly puzzled " 
 
 Dick. "So am I." 
 
 Harry. "How so?" 
 
 Dick. "Just to know what the pesky, outlandish 
 jack-a-dandy is to you, that you should be taking 
 so much trouble on yourself about him and his 
 affairs." 
 
 Harry. "Exactly what your good Scotch neigh 
 bor remarked, booby, only he was not so emphat 
 ically polite in his manner of putting the question." 
 
 Dick. "Mr. Graeme? what the deuce does he 
 know about the Frenchman?" 
 
 Harry. "Nothing, further than that he is the 
 guest of Col. Littleton, who picked him up in 
 Maryland when he went to fetch his daughter home. 
 Still, there was no call that I could see for the 
 remark he made that he did not deem it incum-
 
 WOOD30URXE. 97 
 
 bent on him to be 'speering after ilka sorner in 
 the hale country side.' The topic was evidently 
 distasteful, and he dismissed it with little ceremony. 
 What possible grudge can he have against this Mr. 
 Conrad ? " 
 
 Dick. "Mr. Graeme is the last man in the world 
 to form unfavorable opinions of people without just- 
 cause. I'll be bound he has a good reason for his 
 apparent incivility.'' 
 
 Harry. "There's the rub that same 'good rea 
 son'; but no\v I think of it, let's have that little 
 romance you spoke of; I'm just in the mood for 
 listening." 
 
 Dick. "The mischief you are; well, anything to 
 keep your everlasting tongue quiet for a brief space." 
 
 So saying, he went to the table, and unlocking 
 a drawer, produced a folio as large as a merchant's 
 ledger; then having drawn the table nearer the 
 lire, placed on it the light from the mantlepiece, 
 and opened the book at the proper page. 
 
 " There, voracious quidnunc," said he, " the feast 
 is prepared; come and satisfy your curious soul." 
 
 "Thanks, my very kind host," retorted Carleton; 
 " I much prefer getting satisfaction through the 
 medium of my ears, first and foremost, because I 
 am not inclined to change my pleasant berth; and, 
 secondly, and chiefly, because it would take away 
 the relish from the repast for me to have to spell 
 my way through such 'a d d cramped piece of 
 penmanship,' so take your seat and begin, there's 
 a good boy." 
 
 "A plague on his impudence,'' muttered Alloway, 
 mechanically dropping into the chair. "Call that a
 
 98 
 
 WOODBOUIiNE. 
 
 bad hand; why, I can read it like a book/' With 
 which boastful assertion, he snuffed the candles, 
 cleared his throat, and launched ore rotundo into 
 "My uncle's story."
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 the Autumn of 17 ," said uncle, "I set 
 out from Geneva, where I was sojourn 
 ing, for a ramble on foot through the 
 northern provinces of Italy. Traveling at 
 leisure, I took no definite route, but wandered from 
 place to place as momentary fancy or inclination 
 dictated. In this way, I found myself in the midst 
 of a wild and picturesque region among the moun 
 tains of Tyrol. Loitering incautiously to view th 
 numberless sights of natural interest which met my 
 gaze at every step, darkness overtook me some miles 
 from the ancient city of Meran, where I expected 
 to spend the night. I was on the top of a moun 
 tain, the road was rugged and dangerous, and to 
 make the situation worse, an ugly storm was rap 
 idly approaching. In this strait, I looked around 
 for the nearest place of shelter, and seeing a thin 
 column of smoke curling up from the depths of a 
 gorge apparently but a short distance off, I turned 
 my steps in that direction. Clambering down the 
 mountain-side with much difficulty, when near the 
 bottom, my course was arrested by a bold rivulet, 
 which went dashing and foaming over its rocky 
 bed, making an insuperable barrier to my further 
 
 (99)
 
 100 WOODBOURNE. 
 
 progress. It was too late to turn back; I was 
 fearful of losing my way, and thinking it safest to 
 follow the course of the stream, I groped along 
 through the thick copse in search of a crossing. 
 I had gone but a little way, when a treacherous 
 stone slipping under my foot, I lost my balance 
 and fell over the bank into the torrent. I remem 
 ber feeling one pang of excruciating pain, and then 
 all was dark. When I awoke to consciousness, 
 I was lying on a couch in a dimly lighted room. 
 Two persons were standing by the bedside a man 
 and a, woman. 'Holy Virgin! be praised,' I heard 
 the man say in a whisper, and in the Italian 
 tongue, ' he lives ; the tea, Joanna.' He placed a 
 chalice to my lips, and I swallowed the contents, 
 which were not ungrateful to the taste, at a draught. 
 What the decoction was, I know not; but its effect 
 was magical. In a twinkling I was so much revived 
 ;is to ask where I was and how I came there. I 
 was told that I was at the manse of the cure of 
 a neighboring hamlet; that luckily the noise I made 
 in falling into the water caught the ear of a dog 
 at a chalet close by, whose baying brought some 
 shepherds to my rescue. By them I was extricated 
 and conveyed to the manse in a senseless condition. 
 I was nearly drowned, but otherwise my injuries 
 were not serious a sprained ankle and several pain 
 ful bruises made up the catalogue. My good physi- 
 s'.an, the cure, assured me that I would be well 
 aken care of, and bade me be quiet for the rest 
 of the night, w r hich injunction he reinforced by 
 giving me a composing elixir of some kind. Next 
 morning I was well enough to leave my bed,
 
 WOODBOUR]*E. 101 
 
 although disabled from walking by the injury to 
 my foot. There was nothing to do but to wait 
 patiently for it to heal before pursuing my journey, 
 and to this lot I was easily reconciled on finding 
 in my host not only a kind and skillful leach, but 
 a most agreeable and interesting companion. The 
 spot itself was very attractive, and the window of 
 my room looked out on a romantic scene. A short 
 distance from the house the rivulet widened into 
 a lake some miles in extent, which was completely 
 engirdled by mountains. On the opposite side, 
 perched upon a lofty crag, was a half-ruined castle, 
 a relic of the feudal times. This is so common an 
 object in that country, that it soon ceases to attract 
 the attention of the tourist. Each has its store of 
 dark and dismal legends, which the cicerone recounts 
 with hideous sameness of circumstance and detail. 
 Of course the castle across the lake was no excep 
 tion; but having supped full with supernatural hor 
 rors, I felt little inclination to learn its history. 
 For that reason, I was not prepared to hear that 
 it had recently been the scene of a tragedy of the 
 most harrowing description. 
 
 "It was the morning of the day I had fixed upon 
 for my departure. I was sitting on a bench in the 
 garden reading, when the cure came to me. I saw 
 from his countenance that he had something of 
 more than ordinary interest to impart, and putting 
 aside my book, turned toward him inquiringly, as 
 he seated himself by my side. 'Doubtless,' he 
 began, 'you think it was what short-sighted mor 
 tals call an accident that turned your steps hither; 
 am I not right ? ' The question took me by sur- 
 
 8*
 
 102 WOODBOUBNE. 
 
 prise. I replied, that while I believed that all our 
 acts were directed by an over-ruling Providence, yet, 
 not having the gift of prophecy, I was unable to 
 discern what there was of special significance in 
 the event to which he referred. 'You are wise, 
 my son/ said he, 'to cast from you the Atheist's 
 doctrine of blind chance; every word and deed of 
 men, casual and light as they may seem, have an 
 everlasting import for good or evil; are entered up 
 on pne side or the other of the dread account 
 book of eternity. It was the hand of God that 
 guided you to this place, for a purpose which I 
 will presently explain. One night last March, while 
 a snow storm was raging, the shepherds at the 
 chalet on yonder mountain were aroused by the 
 loud baying of a dog, and going to see what was 
 the matter, found a man in a helpless condition 
 not a stone's throw from the spot of your misad 
 venture. In obedience to my standing injunction, 
 they brought him at once to the manse. He was 
 the veriest wretch my eyes ever beheld, the merest 
 shadow of a human being in the last stage of misery. 
 I did all in my power to restore him, but my 
 efforts were fruitless. After lingering a fortnight, 
 he died of simple inanition. Before breathing his 
 last, he confessed himself of a crime which made my 
 blood run cold ; he was the victim of remorse. I had 
 great difficulty in understanding his broken and, at 
 times, incoherent narrative; but this was the sub 
 stance of it. The man was a Neapolitan, a ser 
 vant of Don Jacapo Torella, whose family is one 
 of the most wealthy and powerful in that kingdom. 
 This man,- the master, was such a villain as only
 
 WOODBOUKN'E. 103 
 
 can bp found in that land where Satan holds undis 
 puted dominion. He had an uncle, Don Lelio 
 Torella, a virtuous, good man, whose dwelling there 
 was as solitary as Lot's in Sodom. He was of a 
 somewhat eccentric disposition; had been liberally 
 educated; was fond of letters and the company of 
 learned men, and led a retired life at his villa 
 near the city. By his tact and abilities he had 
 contrived for a long time to keep clear of political 
 broils, and to maintain a strict neutrality in the 
 struggles of contending factions. He was a bache 
 lor; with him lived his niece, the only child of 
 a sister, whose husband, Eustace Conrad, was 
 killed in the affair of Villetri, fighting on the side 
 of Germany. He was of Saubian origin, as his 
 name implied, and was of royal descent. The policy 
 of Charles the Bourbon, then King of Naples, was 
 to conciliate all classes of the old nobility and 
 higher orders, and he so far succeeded in this as 
 to draw even the inveterate Don Lelio from his 
 retirement, and persuade him to take office at the 
 court. Here his caustic wit and haughty bearing 
 kept him in hot water with the prime minister, 
 who was a man of narrow views, of plebian origin, 
 and head of the third estate then beginning to 
 exert a controlling influence in public affairs. There 
 was at that time a young officer attached to the 
 garrison of Castle Nuovo, who was a special favor 
 ite of the king; he was known as Don Henri 
 Campabello. He was of English parentage, and had 
 entered the service of Naples as an adventurer, or 
 soldier of fortune. He was described as a man of 
 extraordinary personal graces, strangely contrasting
 
 104 WOODBOUKNE. 
 
 with those of his own rank by whom he was sur 
 rounded. 
 
 "'The King was an ardent sportsman, and in his 
 hunting excursions Campabello was his inseparable 
 companion. As was to be expected, this marked 
 preference of the sovereign for the society of a 
 foreigner was very distasteful to the native chivalry, 
 with all of whom, except his comrades-in-arms, 
 he was in constant danger of open rupture. There 
 was another person in whose eyes the young officer 
 found particular favor; this was Constance Conrad, 
 the beautiful niece of Don Lelio, and it was soon 
 apparent that the old nobleman, too, regarded him 
 with far more esteem than he did any other of 
 _her numerous suitors. 
 
 "'In course of time, Don Lelio fell into trouble 
 at court, having quarreled violently with Tanucci, 
 the premier, and in a fit of displeasure retired to 
 his villa. Campabello's rivals, chief of whom was 
 Don Jacapo Torella, now redoubled their efforts to 
 degrade him in the king's estimation, and with the 
 aid of the all-powerful minister, so far succeeded 
 as to prevail with Charles to order him away to 
 a distant garrison on the plausible pretext of its 
 being a more honorable station. But before the 
 king's command Avas made known to Campabello, 
 it was discovered that he had been secretly married 
 to Constance at the instance of Don Lelio, who 
 was resolved to disappoint the schemes of his rela 
 tives, whom he detested, while at the same time he 
 dreaded their enmity. The discovery was the signal 
 of the terrible troubles which followed in rapid suc 
 cession. On some frivolous accusation, easily invented
 
 WOODBOURXE. 105 
 
 in that country of diabolical plots, Don Lelio was 
 rudely seized and thrown into the dungeons of 
 the Vicaria, and shortly afterwards Campabello and 
 his wife, Avith their infant child, disappeared from 
 the scene of thickening dangers. Aware of the im 
 placable nature of their enemies, they took every 
 precaution to conceal their retreat. Whither they 
 fled was known only to one trusty servant, who 
 insisted upon sharing their lot. Alas! that this 
 poor, devoted friend should have been the innocent 
 cause of the mischief which afterwards ensued. 
 
 "'Campabello and his wife were naturally much 
 concerned about the fate of Don Lelio. After the 
 lapse of two months, no longer able to restrain 
 their anxiety, they despatched their attendant, Guil- 
 lame, on a secret mission to Naples for news. The 
 messenger returned in safety, but he brought with 
 him the worst tidings their fears foreboded. The 
 old nobleman did not long survive the brutal out 
 rage to which he had been subjected, and Don Jacapo 
 had fallen heir to his possessions. Time rolled on. 
 The child, a boy, was now a. year old; it is said 
 that he closely resembled his mother, and was 
 exceeding beautiful. He was watched over with 
 jealous vigilance by his parents; and, though they 
 had implicit confidence in his nurse, she was sel 
 dom permitted to take him out of doors. One day 
 she went to walk with the child and never more 
 returned. For days search was made for them 
 without avail. At last the body of the woman was 
 discovered floating in the water a short distance 
 from the castle.' 
 
 "'The castle!' I involuntarily exclaimed.
 
 106 AVOODBOUIINE. 
 
 "'At the foot of the high rock you see there on 
 the right of that old ruin is where they found her, 
 but there was no trace of the child. His loss was 
 a fatal blow to Lady Campabello, and soon after 
 her death the castle was deserted. This much of the 
 story was current among the villagers when I came 
 here to reside. There was no talk amang them of 
 foul play. It was generally believed that the body 
 of the child was at the bottom of the deep lake, into 
 which the nurse had, as they surmised, accidentally 
 fallen. Imagine, then, my horror, when this poor 
 wretch, in accents scarcely audible, told how he had 
 penetrated Guillame's disguise, and thus discovered 
 the retreat of the fugitives; how he had been hired 
 for a large price to avenge his master by slaying 
 his hated rival; how, foiled in that, he thought he 
 could appease his master's wrath by stealing the 
 child, and how, in carrying out that fell design, 
 he had hurled the poor woman headlong over the 
 precipice into the lake before she could cry out 
 and give the alarm. He carried the boy to Naples; 
 but instead of the reward he expected, he was 
 loaded with curses, and scourged from his master's 
 presence. 
 
 "'What shall he do in this extremity? It is a 
 desperate alternative; yet he is resolved to make 
 one more effort to regain his master's favor. He 
 makes his way back to the neighborhood of the 
 castle, taking the child with him. He finds it 
 deserted; he learns the lady's fate; sudden and 
 swift the awful retribution comes; terror and 
 remorse have seized upon him. Vile and desperate 
 as he was, he had no thought of harming the
 
 WOODBOVRNE. 107 
 
 child; indeed, a strange revulsion of feeling now 
 possessed him he could have no peace of mind 
 until he had found the father, and restored the 
 child to him. Where to look for him? While he 
 was lurking around the castle, he, one night, caught 
 fragments of a conversation between the young offi 
 cer and his wife, in which he spoke of going to 
 France, to some place near Grenoble. Going thither, 
 he could learn nothing of the object of his pur 
 suit. He left the child in the care of a peasant 
 woman, living near an old chateau, and went on 
 to Paris. Here his evil genius involved him in a 
 serious affray, in consequence of which he was con 
 demned to imprisonment for life. 
 
 " 'After three years of confinement, he made his 
 escape. His first thought, on regaining liberty, was 
 of the child. He hastened back to the place 
 where he had left it; it was gone; the woman 
 was dead, and all he could learn of the child was 
 that it had been carried away by a stranger a 
 priest no one could tell whither. Then he gave 
 up to despair. He became a vagabond upon the 
 earth, and wandering distractedly hither and thither, 
 at last is drawn by some mysterious impulse back 
 to the scene of his inexpiable crime. Ere he reaches 
 it, the blinding tempest rushes down upon him and 
 smites him senseless to the earth. How he was 
 found has been told. He had barely finished his 
 terrible story, when he fell back on his couch and 
 expired. I had listened to many a tale of human 
 suffering and crime, but nothing in all my expe 
 rience affected me as did the confession of this 
 miserable man. It was ever in my mind, and I
 
 108 WOODBOUKNE. 
 
 lived from day to day in the hope of hearing what 
 had become of the father and child. The mother's 
 grave is in the village churchyard; I had frequently 
 visited it before, but now it was invested with 
 peculiar sanctity. I went there two and three times 
 every week, always expecting that somebody inter 
 ested in the unhappy pair would come to inquire 
 for them. Time passed. I had begun to feel that 
 my hope was vain, when one morning, towards the 
 end of June, on repairing, as usual, to the ceme 
 tery, I was startled by the sight of a man stand 
 ing beside the grave of Constance. He leant heavily 
 upon his staff, and his bare head was bent down in 
 prayer. His garments were threadbare and travel- 
 stained, and he carried a knapsack strapped to his 
 shoulders. He was old, and, when in a little while, 
 he turned to go away, I saw that, although his 
 carriage was erect, his step was slow and feeble. 
 I spoke to him. He stopped, and seeing who I 
 was, saluted me respectfully. It was Guillame. I 
 took him home with me, and when he was rested 
 and refreshed, made him tell his story. Briefly, it 
 was this: The morning after Lady Constance was 
 consigned to the tomb, Campabello said to him, 
 "We must part, Guillame; I am going away." 
 Throwing himself at his feet, the faithful creature 
 implored his master, with tears, not to dismiss him. 
 Campabello was deeply touched. "So be it," he said. 
 "In an hour wo start for St. Petersburg." Here let 
 me explain what was the secret of Guillame's 
 attachment to the young Englishman. He had been 
 a soldier in the company which Campabello com 
 manded. On one occasion, a subaltern struck him
 
 WOODBOUEXE. 109 
 
 with his sword for some fancied dereliction of duty. 
 Incensed by the wanton outrage, he gave the offi 
 cer a blow in return with the butt of his musket, 
 which killed him outright. For this offence, he 
 Avas condemned to die, and the sentence would have 
 been executed but for the intercession of Cum- 
 pabello, who obtained a pardon for him from the 
 king. 
 
 " 'Arrived at their destination, the young officer 
 was kindly received by the Czar, and readily given 
 A commission in the Imperial army. His stay at 
 the capital was as short as ceremony permitted. 
 Desiring to be at once actively employed, he was 
 ordered to the frontier. Here, in time, he won rep 
 utation and honors in abundance. Ambitious of 
 distinction, and ardently devoted to the profession 
 of arms, he was in the full tide of a brilliant 
 career, when, on a sudden, his health succumbed 
 to the rigors of that inhospitable climate. His 
 death severed the last tie which bound Guillame 
 to earthly objects. He felt that his own end was 
 not far off, and yearning to look once more on his 
 native sky before closing his eyes forever, he had, 
 with toil and pain, plodded his way back to this 
 spot. His prayer had been granted, and now he 
 was ready to die, and wished to be buried at the 
 feet of his mistress. I told him the valet's story; 
 lie was amazed and shocked beyond description. 
 Xext morning he came to me equipped for a jour 
 ney his knapsack on his back and staff in hand; 
 said he was going in search of the child. His dear 
 mistress had appeared to him in a dream in her 
 angelic robes, telling him that little Edward was 
 10
 
 110 AVOODBOURXE. 
 
 alive, and commanding him to go without delay. It 
 was an idle fantasy, but I knew it was useless to 
 oppose his determination. He went, I fear, never to 
 return. You came, or rather, you were brought here 
 more dead than alive. Hearing you speak, I recog 
 nized your country in your voice. You were come, I 
 thought, in search of the lost ones. I was mis 
 taken ; yet you were directed hither by the Divine 
 Power as the means of bringing it all to light. 
 Is that not plain?' 
 
 "Father Manso's narrative made a deep impression 
 on me. The more I reflected on it, the more 
 earnest became the desire to discover the fate of 
 the poor orphan. Yet it seemed to my view an 
 almost hopeless undertaking, and I so expressed 
 myself concerning it to the good man, whose zeal 
 in the matter awakened my warmest sympathy. I 
 had no idea, I said, who the English nobleman 
 was. There were ever so many of my countrymen 
 (I did not think it worth while io undeceive him 
 as to my nativity), abroad in Europe, especially in 
 France. I had met one or more of them at every 
 stage of my travels ; but of this one, I had not 
 the least inkling. ' Stay,' said the priest ; ' I had 
 nearly forgotten it; look at this.' He drew from his 
 bosom a gold watch, and opening the case handed 
 it to me. I read the engraving, '' To Henry Mark- 
 ham, from his uncle Edward." 'That watch/ con 
 tinued the cure, 'was entrusted to me by Guil- 
 lame before he went away; it was given to him 
 by his master on his death bed. Now, at least, you 
 know what was the officer's name.' 'Yes/ said I, 
 repeating the inscription aloud; 'but it affords no
 
 WOODBOURNE. Ill 
 
 clue to the missing child; if it did, I should spare 
 no pains or sacrifice in following it up. As it 
 was, we were groping in total darkness. I could 
 only engage to do the best I could under the cir 
 cumstances.' 'Go, then, my son,' said he, 'and 
 God's blessing attend you.' 
 
 "That evening I set out to return to Geneva. 
 Thence, in a few days, I started for France, trav 
 eling through Savoy. On the way I fell ill. I 
 managed, with difficulty, to reach the monastery of 
 Grande Chartreuse, which I had visited once before. 
 There I was tenderly cared for through the severest 
 illness I have ever experienced. When the fever 
 left me, I became the prey of the worst dread 
 which can possess the wanderer in a strange land, 
 and as soon as I was strong enough to travel, I 
 turned my face homeward. Yet I did not wholly 
 forget my promise to Father Manso. As it lay 
 near my route, I Avent to the place where the. 
 miscreant had left the child. The information I 
 obtained only went to confirm his account. The 
 chateau was ruinous and desolate enough. Nobody 
 had lived there, I was told, since the old lord, 
 one Count de Villieures, died, in what year my 
 informant did not remember."
 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 EAD on, Dick," said Carleton, us Alloway 
 paused. 
 
 "That's all there is,'' said he. "Uncle 
 had great repugnance to speak of his own 
 sufferings. He had, indeed, been sick well nigh 
 unto death, and his frame was so shattered by it, 
 that he was fearful he would not be able to reach 
 home. He told mother how intensely anxious he 
 was, and how fervently he prayed that he might 
 be suffered to lay his weary burden down on the 
 spot where his pilgrimage begun." 
 
 "It is that thought which has ever embittered 
 the last hour of the poor exile," replied Carletou, 
 with feeling. "Dulce moricns rcminiscitcr Argos" 
 
 Both were silent for several minutes. At length 
 Dick said: 
 
 "You have heard the story, Harry, what do vou 
 think of it?". 
 
 Harry " Oh, its well enough as far as it goes ; 
 indeed, could not be better for a story, as you 
 say; but it is not much to the point. Campabello! 
 that's Italian for Campbell. Mrs. Graeme was a 
 Campbell, was she not?" 
 
 Dick. "Yes; the clan is legion." 
 
 (112)
 
 WOODBOUKNE. 113 
 
 Harry. "But you told me Mrs. Graeme did not 
 talk like a Scotchwoman. 
 
 Dick. "She was educated in England, I believe. 
 The fact is, I know just nothing at all about her 
 early history; yet I'll be sworn that she has no 
 more to do with that Mr. Conrad and his affairs 
 than the man in the moon." 
 
 Harry. "It may be so; but how do you account 
 for her husband's strange speech?'"' 
 
 Alloway made no reply. 
 
 Harry. "More mystery, Dickon, my boy; the plot 
 thickens, and I am more bent than ever on get 
 ting to the bottom of it. Aye," he exclaimed, 
 springing from the sofa, and glaring in true stage 
 fashion at an imaginary apparition, "I'll follow 
 thee, thou ghost or goblin damned, though thon 
 leadest me to the Stygian caves forlorn, 'mid sights 
 and sounds and shrieks unholy ! " 
 
 Alloway laughed heartily. 
 
 " "\Yhat a muddle you are making of Milton and 
 Shakespeare! Psha, Harry, let the parlez-vousing " 
 
 "Buccaneer,"' suggested his friend, seeing him 
 pause for a word. 
 
 "Anything you like, so you send him packing 
 about his business, and proceed to tell me more of 
 your grand military project. Bravo! that's the look 
 every inch a soldier in a dressing-gown! See 
 how his bosom glows, and how he pants for the 
 glorious fray; IIOAV he smelleth the battle afar off; 
 the thunder of the captains and the shouting. 
 Vincere est vivere! that's the motto for a true- 
 hero." 
 
 A remarkable change had indeed come over the 
 10*
 
 114 WOODBOURNE. 
 
 volatile spirits of the youthful cavalier. His hand 
 some face was lighted up with strange animation ; 
 the languid air and light, bantering tone were gone, 
 and he was pacing the floor with quick and nerv 
 ous steps. 
 
 "You misjudge me greatly, my dear friend," he 
 instantly replied, in a somewhat excited and im 
 passioned tone of voice, "if you think I am amhi- 
 tious of military renown, and long for the fame 
 which is to be gathered in the dreadful field of 
 revolution. Believe me, I do not aspire after the 
 trophies which are won only at the frightful cost 
 of human blood shed in deadly conflict. In my 
 ears the sound of the trumpet is a summons to 
 the carnival of death, rousing in every bosom the 
 'spirit of the first-born Cain.' War, unless it is 
 waged in defence of our country, our altars and 
 household gods, is cool, deliberate, organized, whole 
 sale murder. In the dark ages, the soldier's trad^ 
 was the one honorable profession. The sword was 
 the universal arbiter of disputes, the certain badge 
 of nobility, the true emblem of dignity and power; 
 prowess in arms was the only guerdon worthy of 
 attainment. But feudalism was unmitigated bar 
 barism, a scene of perpetual strife, rapine, anarchy; 
 a saturnalia of blood, a horrible orgy of crimes of 
 the darkest hue. The institution of knighthood was 
 the only partial gleam of humanity athwart the black 
 sky; a feeble, glimmering ray of light rendering 
 the darkness more profound. You seem to be look 
 ing into an immense, murky cavern of embattled 
 fiends, realizing Milton's description of the abode 
 of the damned. The necessity for an extra judicial
 
 WOODBOUKNE. 115 
 
 mode of repressing cruelty and redressing wrongs is 
 the strongest proof of the degeneracy of the race. 
 By the laws of their order, these martial custo 
 dians of society and vindicators of the sacred claims 
 of honor and chastity were bound themselves to 
 respect the obligations whose violation they so rig 
 orously punished in others; but although they miti 
 gated, in some degree, the ferocity of men, they did 
 not succeed in redeeming the world from the 
 dominion of brute violence. Nay, the ensigns armo 
 rial of this boasted chivalry are crimson dyed with 
 the gore of innocent victims of fanatical zeal and 
 romantic enthusiasm euphumisms for licentious pas 
 sion and ungovernable rage sanctified lust, canonized 
 murder. Tantum religio potuit saudere malorum ! 
 Godfrey of ' Bouillon led his J)and of consecrated 
 assassins on to pillage and massacre in sight of 
 Calvary, and years afterwards, on the same holy 
 ground, Richard the Lion-hearted learned his first 
 lessons in the quality of that mercy 'which becometh 
 the throned monarch better than his crown' from 
 the noble example of a Moslem prince/' 
 
 "Shade of La Mancha! what shall be done with 
 this profane iconoclast?" cried Alloway, as Carleton 
 paused in his flight to rest the wings of his elo 
 quence. " Oh, that I were such an orator as Bru 
 tus is!" 
 
 "Orator? God forbid!" said Carleton. "One 
 trumpeter of the name will do; it is high time 
 some of us were signalizing our zeal in acts, and 
 I glory in being the first to set the example. There 
 is no lack of splendid talkers among us; they are 
 as plentiful as lawyers of old in Naples. What-
 
 116 WOODBOURXE. 
 
 ever you do, my friend, I entreat you will not 
 write me down among the homines inerlissimi, quo 
 rum omnis vis virtusque in lingua sita est." 
 
 Dick. "Orator or not, you 'hae sae saft a voice 
 and slid a tongue/ that you can say three words 
 to my one. But I have yonder an authority will 
 confound your awful invective. Read what Dr. 
 Eobertson says in commendation of mediaeval chivalry 
 in his last great work the ' History of the Reign 
 of Charles V.'" 
 
 Harry. "I have read carefully every word of 
 the book. History has been my chief study of late; 
 especially everything relating to the abominations 
 of feudal despotism. Robertson's laudation of this 
 creature of military genius for its lasting beneficial 
 influence on the manners and customs of a bar 
 barous age, is all leather and prunella. Think of 
 his saying that the germ of modern as distinguished 
 from ancient civilization is contained in the bond 
 of knight-erranty. Why, sir, civilization owes more 
 to the humble mechanic of Mentz than to all the 
 mitres, sceptres and swords of Christendom. The 
 PRIXTIXG PRESS was the mighty engine which bat 
 tered down the walls of arbitrary power and freed 
 the soul from the bondage of ignorance, error and 
 superstition. To this art of arts are due the amelio 
 rations of human society all those grand reforma 
 tions which are now in process of fulfillment; in 
 the institutions of policy; in the canons of religious 
 doctrine and belief; in the essential principles of 
 jurisprudence and the enlightened precepts of gov 
 ernment, no less than in the countless appliances 
 of industry and wealth in everything that human 
 izes, elevates, refines and adorns human character."
 
 WOODBOURNE. 117 
 
 "Well for you/' said Dick, taking advantage of 
 a pause in Carleton's oration to edge in a word, 
 "that you did not live in the days of old Sir 
 William Berkeley; he would have hung you higher 
 than Hainan for that audacious speech." 
 
 "Hold your tongue, Dick," rejoined his compan 
 ion. "As I was going to remark, I am free to 
 admit that originally the word chivalry was meant 
 to denote the acme of manly virtue, the supreme 
 ideal of private worth, public zeal and religious 
 devotion. But soon the honor of knighthood became 
 a purely arbitrary distinction; a conventional char 
 ter of exclusive personal privileges; a merely fac 
 titious order of so-called nobility. It was no more 
 prized as the reward of true merit, of courage 
 tempered with gentleness and Christian courtesy; 
 no longer was it the sure evidence of substantial 
 claims to spotless renown. No, it now became the 
 paltry, unprized gift of princely favor; a thing of 
 accident, a toy, a bauble; its lustre dimmed by 
 brutal excesses, and its guerdons the insignia of 
 tyrannical power/' 
 
 Here Alloway made a desperate effort to rally to 
 the defence of the abused paladins, but he was 
 borne down by the sweeping torrent of Carleton's 
 harangue. 
 
 "As for the protection afforded the weaker sex, 
 the refinements of gallantry and all that sort of 
 Sydnean rhodomontade, the charter of knighthood 
 was not the first recognition of the righful province 
 of woman, nor admission of the benignant influence 
 of her gentle sway in curbing the headstrong pas 
 sions and softening the rugged asperities of savage
 
 118 WOODBOUKXE. 
 
 man. This uncouth gallantry was a sentimental, 
 spasmodical worship of the impersonations of phren- 
 zied fancy, not the natural spontaneous feeling of 
 devotion, love and deference for creatures endowed 
 with charms and graces which make them the living 
 fountains of the choicest blessings of society. Let 
 us give the old paladins credit for the best inten 
 tions in their ungainly schemes of reformation ; but 
 in the name of true manhood, let us at the same 
 time protest that it was not a marvellous display 
 of heroic virtue to shield helpless beauty from 
 insult and violence, and to render that homage no 
 generous heart could refuse to la belle sexe. And then 
 their immaculate tribunal of justice, their sublime 
 code, of honor, their amazing discovery that truth 
 was a Phrygian puzzle which only the sword could 
 unravel. It ought to be enough among Christian 
 people to know that duelling is condemned by the 
 word of God. But examine it on merely human 
 grounds. It is claimed to be the only honorable 
 method of disposing of mortal quarrels between 
 man and man. A combat to be honorable must be 
 fair and equal, and everybody knows that it is 
 practically impossible to put the belligerents on such 
 terms that the advantage will not be greatly in 
 favor of one or the other of them. The challenged 
 party, who is generally most in the wrong, is allowed 
 the choice of weapons, and, unless he be wholly 
 indifferent to the issue, is sure to select the death- 
 dealing instrument with which he is most familiar. 
 But what moral right have you to require the 
 injured or aggrieved party to forego any superi 
 ority he may possess? AVhat rule of justice demands 
 that you should take 3*our adversary's weapons, or
 
 WOODI30URXE. 119 
 
 even advise him with what sort of artillery you pur 
 pose to fight? Think of David's sending Goliah word 
 that he was coming forth to battle armed with a 
 sling and five smooth stones out of the brook, and 
 thereby giving the ugly giant a chance to collect 
 a magazine of boulders and bombard him to death 
 at long range. If men will resort to this san 
 guinary mode of accommodating disputes, if only 
 blood can Avash out the stains of affronted dignity, 
 then assuredly a decent respect for social obliga 
 tions plainly dictates that the combatants should 
 end the matter with as little ado as possible, and 
 whatever may be the result of the fight, the least 
 said about honor the better. Honor can never be 
 vindicated by bloody reprisals, any more than the 
 blazonry of chivalrous deeds can ennoble the per 
 petrators of cruel injustice. At the best, what 
 merit is there in being accounted a skillful or a 
 fortunate duellist ? * It is not Harry Monmouth 
 exulting over the fallen Percy, stooping to pluck 
 the budding honors from that noble crest to make 
 a garland for his own, who appears grandly heroic, 
 but Harry the King, as he is pictured by the 
 divine artist on the night before Agincourt 
 
 ' ' Upon his royal face there is no note 
 
 How dread an army hath surrounded him, 
 
 Nor doth he dedicate one jot of color 
 
 Unto the weary and all-watched night ; 
 
 But freshly looks and overbears attaint 
 
 With cheerful semblance and sweet majesty, 
 
 That every wretch, pining and pale before, 
 
 Beholding him, plucks comfort from his looks 
 
 A largess universal like the sun, 
 
 His liberal eye doth give to every one, 
 
 Thawing cold fear.' '
 
 120 WOODBOURNE. 
 
 Having rendered this magnificent quotation in a 
 way that Garrick or John Kemble could not have 
 excelled, Carleton subsided into his former recum 
 bency with the lackadaisical and insouciant air of 
 one to whom such oratorical flourishes were 
 
 " Xo more difficile 
 Than for pig to squeal er blackbird to whistle." 
 
 <; Jupiter Tonans ! " exclaimed Alloway, " what a 
 Vesuvius of eloquence. And all this tirade because 
 I happened to say that you had the bearing of a 
 soldier, longing to flush his maiden sword. I recant, 
 Harry. After all, fighting is a wretched trade, and 
 for one, I am willing to forego my share of its 
 gory and grinning honors. Excuse me for quoting 
 Shakespeare, but it is my highest aspiration 
 
 '"To live the lease of nature and pay my brcatli 
 To time and mortal custom.' 
 
 "Whatever your wise saws may say, death is an 
 ugly customer, come when and how he will ; and none 
 the more Avelcome because he has a churlish habit 
 of coming unasked and undesired. Then, for the 
 glory of the thing, what is there to choose between 
 the laureled crown of the 'hook-nosed fellow of 
 Home/ and the scalp-locks of various hues which 
 deck the robe of the mighty king of the Wampa- 
 noags ? And as for those great, hulky bullies' of 
 the grand carousal, sheathed all over in 'helm and 
 hauberk's twisted mail/ sword and lance proof, 
 what were their wrought-iron pastimes, their jousts 
 and tourneys, compared with the robust and plucky 
 rencontres of the old gladiators of the Coliseum, 
 who went at it, stripped to the buff, and hacked
 
 WOODBOUHNE. 121 
 
 the flesh off each other until nothing was left of 
 them but a, bloody array of skeleton warriors rat 
 tling defiance to death itself? But, sir, do you 
 wish to see my perfect model of a fighting animal? 
 Behold him in the wrathful, red fiend of the wil 
 derness, accoutred for the war-path; the incarna 
 tion of real chivalry in naked majesty. Talk of 
 Grecian, Roman, Saxon or Celtic courage and forti 
 tude 
 
 "'Believe me, prince, there is not an Indian 
 That traverses our vast American deserts 
 In quest of prey and lives upon his bow, 
 But better practices these boasted virtues.' 
 
 "Pour vivre en se-fait tuer, is the motto of the 
 killing trade the world over. Between the hero 
 and the brute it is but a toss-up, as you were say 
 ing, Harry." 
 
 Carletoii did not deign to notice this unseemly 
 badinage; so Dick picked his flint, and began blaz 
 ing away at him again. 
 
 " 0, for the genius of Moliere ! what a comedy 
 I would indite. L& soldat malgre lui, worth an 
 army of your mock doctors; a veritable hero, whose 
 natal star was the serenest of the heavenly orbs. 
 For a surety, my Harry is not that famous ' Hot 
 spur of the Korth,' he that kills me some six or 
 seven dozen of Scots at a breakfast." 
 
 This time the shot told; Carleton was half angry. 
 
 "You certainly can make yourself supremely ridic 
 ulous when you try, you great, hairy jack-pudding," 
 he exclaimed, snatching up the poker and making a 
 feint as if he were going to run Dick through the 
 body with it. " You know well enough that what I 
 11
 
 122 WOODBOURNE. 
 
 have said was not intended to decry the profession of 
 arms, nor to underrate the military art. Nobody 
 appreciates the character of a true soldier higher 
 than I do. The unsullied honors which are won 
 in the field of duty are above the price of rubies; 
 he does not deserve to be called a man who turns 
 his back on his country's foes. But the mercenary 
 wretch whose sword is up for hire; the blood 
 thirsty creature who fights for the mere love of 
 fighting, who delights in war for Avar's sake, as 
 Xenophon says of Clearchus " 
 
 "Are all a vile, murderous crew at the best," said 
 Dick; "the moral of all your fine talk is, that wars, 
 like plagues and earthquakes, are unavoidable calam 
 ities, and therefore the soldier's vocation will never 
 be out of fashion. "Well, as Corporal Nym says, 
 'things must be as they may.' Don't mind my chaf 
 fing, Harry; I know you will act your part as 
 becomes -a right valiant rebel, whether you like the 
 business or not. But, I say, when did the Carle- 
 tons get to be such a rebellious set ? the name once 
 stood for loyalty itself." 
 
 Harry. "Loyalty, forsooth! First tell me what 
 makes a rebel before you impugn my loyalty, as 
 you call it." 
 
 "What makes a rebel?" slowly repeated Dick; 
 "strange that I never thought seriously of that 
 question before. To be a rebel one must have com 
 mitted treason in some way. But what is treason ? 
 It strikes me that Harrington made a palpable hit 
 in his famous couplet 
 
 '"Treason doth never prosper, what's the reason, 
 For if it prosper, none dare call it treason.'
 
 AVOODBOUItNE. 123 
 
 ILirry. '''Precisely so; and hence loyalty is a 
 noun Proteus, which no lexicographer has ever been 
 able to define." 
 
 Dick. "Wait till old ' Taxation-no-Tyranny ' pub 
 lishes the second edition of his dictionary, and we 
 shall have your Proteus ' drained in a limbec to 
 his native form.' For example: Loyally a term 
 employed to denote that overpowering sensation of 
 awe and reverence which is inspired by the con 
 templation of the divinity which doth hedge a 
 king. But Ave are going to succeed in this struggle, 
 and then Ave can have a vocabulary of our OAvn, 
 which will put to shame the servile coiners of 
 words who would call a whale a weasel at the bid 
 ding of any Royal Dane." 
 
 Carleton laughed. 
 
 "Glibly said, for orator Mum. NOAV that he has 
 shaken the reefs out of his rhetorical sails, he has 
 completely taken the wind out of mine." 
 
 "And when the muss is o\ r er, and we are a free, 
 independent, and supremely happy people," continued 
 Dick, with reneAved volubility, "Avbat are we going 
 to do next? There's the rub. I should go for a 
 monarchy if I were sure of a dukedom for myself. 
 If it is to be a republic, then let us have the 
 strongest possible infusion of the aristocratical ele 
 ment. I confess I am, for one, no admirer of pure 
 and unadulterated democracy, and regret to see that 
 some of our state cooks are for putting so much 
 of that sort of leaA T en in our political loaf." 
 
 Harry. "The current of opinion sets overwhelm 
 ingly in favor of a republic. I wish you could 
 see the letters my father has received from every
 
 124 WOODBOURNE. 
 
 quarter on this subject, especially those from Col. 
 George Muson and Mr. Samuel Adamc. There is 
 no disputing the fact that the republican form of 
 government is the choice of this generation of 
 Americans. If posterity don't like it, why let pos 
 terity make one to suit themselves." 
 
 Leaving these young rebels to their dish of pol 
 itics, let us direct the reader's attention to some 
 of the other persons of our drama.
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 Y a singular combination of circumstances, 
 it so happens that the anniversary of 
 Miss Lucy Graeme's nativity is one of 
 the days in our story's calendar most 
 crowded with stirring incidents. Despite the evil 
 prediction of the immemorial weather prophet, the- 
 dawn we celebrate came not in heavy with clouds 
 and lowering with gloomy forebodings, but was 
 robed in a dreamy mantle of heavenly radiance, 
 which made every object appear as though it dwelt 
 in a perpetual realm of drowsy-headed illusion. 
 Yet it was in reality no fairy-land of shadowy im 
 ages, enchanting visions and "dreams that wave 
 before the half-shut eye"; on the contrary, it was a 
 breathing, throbbing part of that grand theatre whose 
 curtain was about to rise on the swelling scene of 
 the world's supremest hopes. 
 
 As we were saying, the eventful day was come, 
 and Bonhill resounded with the busy note of prep 
 aration. It is the little lady-regent's first essay at 
 entertaining on so large a scale, and she duly 
 appreciates the weight of responsibility which rests 
 on her pretty shoulders. Trying as the situation 
 is, enough to tax the resources of the most expe- 
 
 11* (125)
 
 126 WOODBOUKNE. 
 
 rienced adept in the occult science of housekeep 
 ing, we have no sort of misgiving that sho will 
 not come off with flying colors from the field of 
 her unwonted labors. 
 
 Eeturning from his customary morning ride, Mr. 
 Graeme found the house, as he would say, turned 
 " heels-owre-gowdie " from attic to cellar. Every 
 where the genius of distraction reigned supreme. 
 Even the paternal sanctum had not escaped the 
 invasion of the common enemy of peace and quiet; 
 it was undergoing a complete overhauling and set 
 ting to rights, preparatory to being dedicated to a 
 variety of unheard of uses, and especially for the 
 behoof of those elderly persons who preferred a 
 rubber at whist or a game of vingt-un to the 
 boisterous attractions of fiddling and dancing. Only 
 his wife's chamber was sacred ground; but the 
 self-respect of the worthy gentleman revolted at the 
 notion of being held a prisoner in his own castle, 
 and calling after the boy who was leading his 
 horse to the stable, he determined to make his 
 exit from the scene of domestic din and disorder. 
 As he was leaving the hall with that view, he was 
 intercepted by his daughter, who came tripping up 
 to him with an open letter in her hand, and in 
 the most aggravating manner actually carolling a 
 stave of one of his favorite songs. 
 
 "Nae luck about the house!" he exclaimed, taking 
 the words from her mouth, and trying his best to 
 preserve an awkward assumption of outraged dignity. 
 "Is this yer manners, to drive a body out o' doors 
 with your clatter and skirling eneugh to distrackit 
 auld Nick; and he yer ain dear faither."
 
 VrOODBOURXE. 127 
 
 "I am sure the poor, persecuted body could 
 make himself very comfortable up-stairs in mother's 
 room," was the provoking reply to his grievous 
 complaint. 
 
 "In yer mither's room; a douce answer to a 
 ceevil question. Hech, sirs! a pretty pass, the head 
 o' the family maunna hae his ain seat in his ain 
 house. That gate belyve I shall be e'en begging 
 your leddyship'a permission to wear my ain breecks. 
 What are ye snirtling at, ye little imp o' the deil? 
 Let me catch ye grinning at me again, an' I'll 
 gie ye that will gar ye laugh out o' the wrang 
 side o' your mouth." 
 
 The threat was aimed at the luckless urchin who 
 had brought the letter for Lucy from Clifton, and 
 who was detected in a broad grimace at what he 
 seemed to think was very rare fun. 
 
 "Alack, alack ! " cried Lucy, catching him by the 
 lappel of his coat, and looking up at him in a 
 commiserating way, " how I do pity the poor head 
 of the family; if he is well nigh daft at the clat 
 ter and skirling of the scrubbing-brush, what will 
 become of him when he hears the dinsome clamor 
 of the dancing and deray to-night? 
 
 '"The cushat croods, the corbie crie?, 
 The cuckoo couks, the prattling pies 
 
 To keek hir they begin ; 
 The jargon o' the jangling jays, 
 The craiking craws, the keekling kayes, 
 
 They deaved me with their din.'" 
 
 An apt representation of the melodious discord 
 one hears in a room full of gay revellers, all laugh 
 ing and talking in an undistinguishable jumble of
 
 128 -\VOODBOUENE. 
 
 hilarious sounds, and she recited it with such 
 humorous effect that Mr. Graeme's sides fairly shook 
 with laughter in spite of his efforts to maintain 
 his gravity. Yet there was a mischievous twinkle 
 in his eye as he chimed in with his daughter's 
 merry mood. 
 
 "Hout tout, lass," he exclaimed, as soon as he 
 had recovered his breath; "gang awa wi' your daf- 
 fin. Ye dinna really suppose that I care a bodle 
 mysel for your noise and dirdum and a' that; I 
 was only just the moment thinking what the gude 
 minister will hae to say anent the matter; he'll 
 be sair mistrysted, I hae nae doubt, at sic a sight 
 o' wardly vanity." 
 
 Instantly the tables were turned; the mischief- 
 loving damsel was transformed as if by magic into 
 a ludicrous picture of mingled consternation and 
 chagrin. 
 
 "Goodness sake! papa, you don't mean to tell 
 me that Mr. Waddell is coming to-night?" she 
 faltered out. 
 
 The old gentleman made no reply in words, he 
 merely shook his head solemnly sideways and down- 
 ways, as the sly twinkle lurking in his eye grew 
 more and more intolerably wicked. To account for 
 this sudden revulsion of feeling on Miss Lucy's 
 part, it is necessary to remark that Mr. Waddell 
 was the famous "new-light" preacher, who, it had 
 been given out, would hold forth in the parish 
 church on the next Sunday, and who was expected 
 to make his quarters at Bonhill towards the close 
 of the week. Now, there had never been a dissent 
 ing minister in that immediate neighborhood within
 
 \VOODBOURXE. 129 
 
 the memory of the oldest inhabitant, and the preva 
 lent opinion of such a character was far from flat 
 tering, or expressed in very reverential or even 
 respectful terms. He was generally looked upon to 
 be sour, peevish, cross and splenetic, with an elon 
 gated, kill-joy visage, a harsh, whining voice, which 
 "entuned in the nose full swetely," and with a 
 garb to match these prepossessing endowments of 
 the most puritanical pattern. With all her respect 
 for her father's pronounced religious predilections, 
 Lucy had been insensibly impressed by the obnox 
 ious popular description of the itinerant preacher of 
 the period, and the idea of having one ~ of the num 
 ber in the house on a day which had been set 
 apart for festivity and jollification was anything but 
 pleasant to contemplate. Then she knew that Mr. 
 Graeme would be mortified beyond measure if his 
 visitor was not agreeably lodged and entertained 
 with the exemplary courtesy and respectful atten 
 tion which was due to his sacred calling, and she 
 was naturally apprehensive concerning his reception 
 at the hands of the more thoughtless of the gay 
 company, who might be disposed to resent the 
 presence of a rigid presbyter as "an infusion of 
 myrrh into the festive goblet." No wonder, then, 
 that she was dismayed at the suggestion of Mr. 
 "VVaddell's intrusion on the scene of pleasure, and 
 looked as if she was ready to cry with vexation. 
 Mr. Graeme's heart melted at sight of her extreme 
 discomfiture. 
 
 "Dinna greet, lassie," said he, kissing her affec 
 tionately; "ye maunna mind my daffin. The min 
 ister will na come before to-morrow e'en, so Jamie
 
 130 WOODBOUKXE. 
 
 Gordon writes. What hae ye got there?" he asked, 
 glancing at the letter in her hand. 
 
 "It's only a line from Mary Littleton," replied 
 Lucy, " to inquire when the Katrine will sail. ' 
 
 Mr. Graeme pricked up his ears at this announce 
 ment, but his countenance immediately fell as she 
 added : 
 
 "The information is particularly desired by the 
 strange gentleman." 
 
 "The strange gentleman?" he sneeringly repeated; 
 "I dinna ken why he's aye speerin' after the ves 
 sel." 
 
 "That's Mr. Conrad's affair, my dear sir," retorted 
 Lucy, who had not yet forgiven him his cruel joke. 
 "What answer shall I make to the polite request 
 of your bubbly-jock, for such he certainly appears 
 to be from the way you speak of him." 
 
 Again her father laughed heartily. The popular 
 anecdote of the half-witted gowk who had such a 
 mortal fear of the great, gobbling turkey-cock was 
 one of his jocular stand-bys. 
 
 "The unnatural bairn," he exclaimed, "aye shootin' 
 at her auld faither wi' his ain gun. Ye mind the 
 story then? But what gars ye think I am sair 
 hadden doun by the bubbly-jock?" 
 
 "Because," was the unexpectedly round response, 
 "you give yourself more concern about him than 
 I can see any reason for." 
 
 Mr. Graeme's face reddened a little at his daugh 
 ter's bluntness; but his displeasure, if he really 
 felt any, vanished the moment he met her rallying 
 glance. 
 
 "Weel, woel, lass," said he, "ye are na far wrang;
 
 WOODBOURKE. ''SI 
 
 it's sinfu' idling o' precious time, if it is naething 
 warse. Sae, ye maun, just tell the young leddie or 
 the ." 
 
 "Bubbly-jock," said Lucy. 
 
 "Gentleman," continued her father, with reprov 
 ing emphasis on the word; "wi' my respectful 
 compliments, that the Katrine will set sail on the 
 first fair wind after twal o'clock the night, and he 
 kens when that will be precisely as weel as mysel." 
 
 "That does not sound like a polite message, 
 papa." 
 
 "It is een word for word as I got it frae your 
 cousin Ballantine at the store a while gone; but 
 say it to suit yoursel. And now I am minded to 
 ask, did you add' the postscript to the letter to 
 Geordie?" 
 
 "Yes, sir," replied Lucy, "every word as you 
 desired it the message about the model of the new 
 steam engine, and the threshing machine, and all; 
 and I also requested him to send me the latest 
 collection of songs the one just published in Edin 
 burgh." 
 
 "A' right eneugh," said her father; "yet how 
 you will get them is anither question. The Katrine, 
 I am afraid, is the last vessel we shall see frae 
 the auld countree these mony lang and weary days. 
 It gars me grew to think on't. A waefu warld. 
 It's aye the way o' it, thae folk wha hae maist 
 cause to be freenly and Christianlike and forbear 
 ing in a' their dealings with ain anither, are the 
 vera ones to fall out and gae to hacking ilk ithers 
 thrapples anent the right and the wrang o' this and 
 that metapheesical abstraction, so that there is
 
 132 WOODBOUENE. 
 
 never an end o' contention, and strife, and blood 
 shed, and destruction. I hae. my ain gude opinion 
 on the subject; but wha's the use arguing wi' a, 
 wbeen het-headed callants wha will na hearken to 
 rhyme or reason? I maun as weel, as the saying 
 is, keep my breath to cool my parritch. Ane it her 
 thing, you sent the invitations to the gentlemen 
 whase names I gave you?" 
 
 "I did, papa," said Lucy; "although I was 
 doubtful of the propriety of asking Mr. Thompson 
 to the party; his politics, you know" 
 
 " Politics ! " interrupted Mr. Graeme, with some 
 warmth; "wha's fule eneugh to talk o' politics and 
 sic like clishrnaclavers on a conveevial occasion. I 
 will hae Mr. Thompson and his' wife in the bar 
 gain; they have aye been gude neeborly bodies, as 
 far as I ken to the contrairy, and his politics is 
 his ain business. I dinna care a bodle for Whig 
 or Tory ; I'se warrant I hae them a' ' dancing the 
 reel o' Tullockgorum before the wee sma' hours the 
 night. And now I maun be ganging over to nee- 
 ber Alloway's, and hae a chat wi' that young Mr. 
 Carleton; he is a braw lad, and I hue taken a 
 prodigious fancy till him, not that I think ony 
 the less o' Maister Richard." 
 
 This last qualifying clause was intended as a 
 salve for Miss Lucys feelings, whom, he more than 
 suspected of nursing a strong partiality for the 
 cantie Laird of Woodbourne, and in whose ears his 
 praise of the captivating cavalier Carleton might 
 have an invidious bearing. But the conscious dam 
 sel, lilting forth a merry chorus, frisked away 
 beyond earshot ere he completed the sentence, and
 
 WOODBOURXE. 133 
 
 left the good gentleman to chuckle over his thread 
 bare joke as he ambled along the road to Wood- 
 bourne. 
 
 As we have intimated, the expected advent of 
 Mr. Waddell was looked forward to as an event of 
 uncommon interest, . inasmuch as his preaching there 
 would be the very first occasion that a minister 
 other than one of the Episcopal persuasion had 
 dispensed the bread of grace to perishing souls in 
 that vicinity. What gave it additional importance 
 was the fact that the rector of the parish, who 
 was a model of piety and good sense, then rarely 
 to be found among the regular custodians of ths 
 public conscience in Virginia, had given formal 
 notice from the pulpit the Sunday before that, God 
 willing, the Rev. James Waddell, of the Hanover 
 Presbytery, would hold services in that church on 
 next Sabbath, and earnestly invoked the attendance 
 of the people on his brother's ministrations. The 
 announcement gave rise to considerable stir among 
 the more strait-laced members of the congregation, 
 especially Avhen it was known that Parson Smith 
 had taken upon himself, without consulting the 
 wishes of the vestry, to tender the use of ths 
 church to a person who had been denominated, in 
 the choice language of another clergyman, "a pick 
 pocket, dark-lantern, moonlight preacher and enthusi 
 ast," and ignominiously threatened with the whipping 
 post if he persisted in his ministerial avocations. But 
 the general sentiment of the community warmly sup 
 ported the liberal course of the minister in charge, 
 and there was no danger of Mr. Waddell's being sub- 
 is
 
 134 WOODBOURNE. 
 
 jected to the shameful indignities he had met with 
 a few years before in a neighboring parish. 
 
 Latterly, there has been considerable pother in 
 certain quarters over the religious disturbances in 
 Virginia during the colonial times. In the calm 
 light of historical truth, they appear to be utterly 
 insignificant, excepting in so far as they serve to 
 throw light upon the condition of the Established 
 Church, and upon the character and conduct of 
 its ministry. They were a contemptible afterpiece, 
 following the terrible drama of persecution in 
 Europe. 
 
 There is no telling, to be sure, to what extent 
 the mischief might have been carried had it not 
 been for the discretion and forbearance which usually 
 marked the deportment of the non-conforming min 
 isters, and the wisdom and firmness of the meas 
 ures which were taken by Governor Gooch to insure 
 the observance of the Act of Toleration in its true 
 spirit and intention. The established clergy, for the 
 most part, clamorously asserted their claim to 
 exclusive jurisdiction in ecclesiastical affairs, and 
 strove in every way to nullify the operation of the 
 law. The pope, says Selden, is infallible as long as 
 he has the power to be obeyed. The parsons had no 
 trouble in supporting their dangerous pretensions as 
 long as they were aided and abetted by the civil 
 authorities; but when that prop gave way, as was 
 soon the case, the flimsy structure toppled to the 
 ground never to rise again in its pristine proportions. 
 No possible good can come of the attempt to revive 
 the discussion of these discreditable proceedings, 
 which have been made the handle of so much
 
 WOODBOUKNE. 135 
 
 unjust reproach and ungenerous criticism of the 
 Episcopal Church in Virginia. By common consent, 
 they are now ascribed by all fair-minded persons 
 to their real cause, which was found in the depravity 
 and weakness of many of those who wore the sacred 
 surplice, and who, in their daily walk and conver 
 sation, were anything else than examples of what 
 they were sent to preach. Looking back upon the 
 events of that stirring period, this feeble effort of 
 a handful of unpopular ecclesiastics to stem the 
 tide of free inquiry which was sweeping over the 
 land, excites in our breast only a passing emotion 
 of ridicule and contempt.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 HAT is Clifton yon see yonder/' said Allo- 
 way to his friend, as they were riding over 
 the farm, and having reached an elevated 
 plateau near the river, had halted to enjoy 
 the wide and delightful prospect which the spot 
 afforded. Only a portion of the front of the house 
 could be seen, but that was sufficient to give an 
 adequate conception of the stateliness of the massive, 
 reddish-brown edifice, which occupied the sum 
 mit of the lofty promontory, formed by the conflu 
 ence of the two main branches of the N river. 
 
 It is somewhat a fashion to speak of the bravest 
 of the old colonial residences in Virginia as baro 
 nial a term which is calculated by an obvious 
 association of ideas to convey the impression of an 
 imposing array of battlemented towers, frowning 
 buttresses, and like insignia of feudal pomp and 
 power. Assuredly the proud family seat of the 
 Littleton's was as richly deserving of aristocratic 
 designation as any quadrangular pile of imported 
 bricks in the colony, both by reason of its intrinsic 
 excellence, and of the dignity of its several owners. 
 Still Clifton was by no means baronial in the sense 
 in which the expression is ordinarily understood, 
 
 (136)
 
 WOODBOURNE. 137 
 
 having no sign nor token within or without of the 
 lordly majesty which strikes terror to the soul of 
 the beholder. True, the magnificent Lombardy pop 
 lars, ranged in a row and towering so straight and 
 tall that their heads pierced the blue vault above 
 them, might, to a romantic imagination, easily pass 
 for so many faithful sentinels keeping watch and 
 ward over the grisly stronghold of some uncouth 
 giant; but, as the prosy fact was, they simply served 
 the double purpose of decorating, with a tasteful 
 display of exotic ornamentation, the curtilage of a 
 substantial Virginian manor, and of furnishing a 
 noted landmark for the pilots of the various crafts 
 that plied up and down the Potomac. Its dimen^ 
 sions alone excepted, Clifton differed in nothing 
 from its less pretentious and unbaronial neighbor, 
 Bonhill, by which it was confronted from the oppo 
 site bank of the river. 
 
 The Littletons are a very ancient and eminently 
 respectable family. No African explorer ever took 
 greater pains to find the true sources of the "watery 
 Nile " than we have done in trying to trace the 
 lineage of the Littletons to its fountain head. Their 
 antiquity has completely baffled our chronological 
 investigations, and the reader must perforce be con 
 tent with the traditionary assurance that our Lit 
 tletons are genuine scions of the race which came 
 out of one of the innumerable cells in the pro 
 lific hive of nations at a period the memory of man 
 runneth not to the contrary, and that they became 
 illustrious in more ways than one in the ups and 
 downs, and ins and outs, of English history. This 
 much may, however, be set down with positive cer- 
 
 12*
 
 138 WOODBOURXE. 
 
 tainty as an episode which appropriately belongs to 
 our veracious chronicle. An ancestor of the \^ir- 
 ginia Littletons was particularly distinguished for 
 his devotion to the royal cause in the great revo 
 lution, and was claimed to have been the sole, 
 ingenious contriver of the wonderful machinations 
 which afterwards enabled the fugitive son of the 
 unhappy martyr -to elude the vigilance of his im 
 placable pursuers. This infatuated "loyalist"' fell 
 into the hands of the stern Protector, who grimly 
 nodded, and off went his head. But on the resto 
 ration of the monarchy, his son received the pos 
 thumous recompense of loyalty in the shape of a 
 huge slice of the virgin soil of the Old Dominion. 
 A cool way that Absolute Lord and Proprietary 
 Universal had of cutting "whangs out o' ither 
 folk's leather," as it no doubt appeared to the 
 untutored mind of Mr. Pope's poor Indian 
 
 "Whose soul proud science never taught to stray 
 Far as the solar walk or milky^ way,'' 
 
 and who, for lack of astronomical knowledge, had for 
 feited every right to terrestrial possessions. Possibly 
 he will be duly compensated in that "equal sky," 
 to which he has been condescendingly admitted by 
 the gracious Muse. In this case, the grateful ben 
 eficiary of royal munificence entered at once into 
 his vast territorial domain, and we do not learn 
 that there was ever a joinder on the mise to test 
 the validity of old Eowly's letters-patent. 
 
 In the after troubles which put an everlasting 
 quietus on the unfortunate house of Stuart, the 
 Virginia Littletons remained at heart faithful to
 
 WOODBOUKXE. 139 
 
 the cause of their benefactors, and being at a safe 
 distance from the theatre of strife, they were suf 
 fered to vent their loyal indignation without let or 
 hindrance, so long as they abstained from commit 
 ting the overt act of treason against the reigning 
 dynasty. No friendly remonstrance was necessary, 
 it would seem, to keep them in the bounds of cau 
 tious circumspection. The bloody fate of their 
 unlucky ancestor was an efficient warning never 
 again to lose sight of the favorite Littleton maxim, 
 "Nullum Numen abest, si sit Prudent ia" And 
 whilst their lips overflowed with cheap professions 
 of unalterable attachment to their first and only 
 love, they took good care to withhold their contri 
 bution of the material aid and comfort of purse 
 and sword, without which there was about as much 
 likelihood of the deposed Stuarts regaining their lost 
 crown as there is for any one of the present gen 
 eration of American sovereigns to wield the sceptre 
 of the "coming empire." 
 
 This harmless zeal for a lost cause descended as 
 a muniment of title from father to son along with 
 the estate, and hence we find in the present pro 
 prietor, Col. Eobert Littleton, an uproarious Jaco 
 bite in politics, and in religion, what was next of 
 kin to a papist, an inveterate highflyer, the proto 
 type of the latter-day ritualist. With him the Stuart 
 mania was a sort of hereditary disease, which colored 
 and shaped every portent of the political heavens. 
 He was perpetually flying kites "over the river to 
 Charley," and it was the most provoking thing in 
 the world to him that all his neighbors did not 
 religiously believe with him, that the restoration of
 
 140 WOODBOURXE. 
 
 his favorites would prove a panacea for every con 
 ceivable ill that could afflict the commonwealth of 
 mankind. And he is far from being the only 
 instance in history of such blind idolatry such 
 insane worship of graven images. At last, however, 
 as we are credibly informed, he was entirely cured 
 of his innate disorder. After the victory of York- 
 town the conviction suddenly dawned upon him 
 that the declaration of the United Colonies meant 
 what it said a plague on both your houses. Then 
 the cherished vision melted into thin air; he sub 
 mitted graciously to the irreversible decree, aban 
 doned the land of his forefathers to its ignomini 
 ous fate, joined heartily in the universal "all hail" 
 to the rising star of the Western Hemisphere, and 
 became in the end a blatant disciple of the 
 most advanced school of progressive democracy. But 
 we anticipate. 
 
 Notwithstanding his objectionable politics, Col. 
 Eobert Littleton was generally esteemed among his 
 neighbors for possessing in a marked degree the 
 amiable traits, rough and ready manners, and really 
 hospitable disposition, which characterized his ideal 
 standard of excellence in an opulent country gen 
 tleman, as he is portrayed to the life in Fielding's 
 inimitable page. There was one insuperable obstacle 
 in the way of Col. Littleton in his attempt to play 
 the part of his illustrious pattern and exemplar 
 with complete success. He had no foils to set off 
 to advantage the salient points of imaginary resem 
 blance. The estimable schoolmaster, who had taken 
 his degrees at the University of Glasgow, and who 
 was a Presbyterian of the straitest sect, had his
 
 WOODBOUENE. 141 
 
 own orthodox notions concerning the unalterable 
 rule of right and the eternal fitness of things, and 
 the S3 he inculcated, with equal impartiality and due 
 regard for the scriptural injunction, on the deli 
 cate sprigs of the house of Littleton and the 
 unkempt offspring of the commune pecus. And so 
 far from favoring the soi-disant squires' pretentious to 
 be considered the royal vice-gerent of the parish 
 in ecclesiastical matters, good Parson Smith never 
 once thought of consulting him in reference to the 
 text or duration of the hebdomadal discourse, nor 
 of inquiring into the nature of the dreams that 
 hovered above his cushioned dormitory in the 
 chancel. Yet he not only sent his sons regularly 
 every five days in the week to the old-field school, 
 which was presided orer by the heretical Orbilius, 
 but maintained the most amicable relations with 
 the minister, paying his dues punctually in good 
 current tobacco, and quite satisfied with descanting 
 on the affairs of the Church at each stated vestry 
 meeting. For the rest, Squire Littleton, as he came 
 at last to be dubbed by the commonalty, dispensed 
 a generous hospitality in his own house, was no 
 laggard in partaking of the good cheer of his 
 neighbors, and bore his full share in every project 
 which was put forward to promote the general wel 
 fare of the community. 
 
 The master of Clifton is a widower, his wife 
 being dead years ago. His household is presided 
 over by Miss Theodora Littleton, who is so much 
 older than her brother that she may be said to 
 have reached the indefinable age at which the most 
 sanguine of superannuated maidens become reconciled
 
 142 WOODBOURXE. 
 
 to the harsh allotment, which condemns them to 
 wither on the virgin thorn in unpitied desolation. 
 Of this pattern of spinsters, we have only one other 
 remark to make before she drifts out of sight like 
 a sobby log on the swift running stream of our 
 eventful story. She was, from all accounts, an 
 admirable housekeeper, considering that she never 
 had a house of her own to keep, swayed the rod 
 of domestic empire with a firm and even hand, 
 and devoted the hours she had to spare from the 
 cares of office to the ungrateful task of endeavor 
 ing to inspire her willful niece Avith an apprecia 
 tion of the tastes and fashions which obtained a 
 quarter of a century before the young lady was 
 born. To Miss Mary Littleton, "queen-rose of the 
 rose-bud garden of girls,'' our devoirs will be paid 
 in due season. The only other inmate of the man 
 sion at present is the stranger guest, whose arrival 
 seems to have created no little commotion in the 
 usually quiet neighborhood. Col. Littleton has 
 another daughter, who is married, and lives in the 
 vicinity of Doughoregan Manor, in the Province of 
 Maryland, and two sons, who are off somewhere at 
 school. 
 
 During this interesting digression, Carleton has 
 had ample leisure for an exhaustive survey of the 
 premises. From looking at the old house, his eye 
 roves pleasantly over the fascinations of the sur 
 rounding scene. Presently he appears to be gazing 
 intently at some object on the water in front of 
 him. It was the veriest mite of a row-boat, which 
 a boy, with deft and graceful strokes, was making 
 to fly over the water with amazing rapidity.
 
 WOODBOURNE. 143 
 
 "There goes your young sportsman, Dick," said he. 
 
 "Yes," replied Alloway, "that is Archie, with his 
 inseparable rifle; but I was looking at that fellow" 
 yonder in the skiff a sailor evidently. He must bo- 
 one of the Katrine's crew; what can he want 
 here?" 
 
 The man's appearance was eccentric, not to say 
 suspicious. He was creeping cautiously along under 
 the shadow of the boughs which overhung the 
 stream, as if anxious to screen himself from obser 
 vation, and was plainly watching the movements of 
 the other little craft. While Alloway was speaking, 
 the latter was headed for the landing at Clifton, 
 seeing which, the man ran the skiff ashore, and, 
 jumping out, disappeared in the wood. 
 
 " Deserted from his majesty's service afloat, is what 
 that means, Dick," said Carleton. 
 
 "Very likely," replied Alloway. "Hallo, Harry, 
 there they are," pointing, as he spoke, in the direc 
 tion of Clifton.] 
 
 A momentary glance revealed two figures on horse 
 back a lady and gentleman as they dashed around 
 the great circle in front of the house and disap 
 peared in the mouth of the splendid avenue of 
 native poplars and cedars, which conducted them 
 out by the main entrance on the highway. 
 
 "My fair cousin, I am pleased to see," continued 
 Mr. Richard, in a tone which was intended 
 to convey the keenest irony and most superlative 
 contempt, "has at last succeeded in finding a con 
 genial companion in her equestrian excursions. She 
 will not have a chance to decline the civility from 
 me in a hurrv, will she Don ? " (patting the sym-
 
 144 WOODBOURXE. 
 
 pathizing sorrel caressingly on the neck). " Come, 
 Harry, let us go." 
 
 Running his eyes again hurriedly over the sur 
 rounding scene, Carleton, gathering up the reins, 
 turned and followed his companion. 
 
 "It is a, humiliating confession, Dickon, my boy,'' 
 said he, taking up the disagreeable topic. "The 
 Chevalier Conrad has the insidt track of us coun 
 try bumpkins. Of course they Avill be of the party 
 at" Bonhill to-night ? " 
 
 "Having been asked," replied Dick, mechanically, 
 " I know of no reason why they should not go." 
 
 "Then," said Carleton, "I mean to tax my wits 
 to the utmost but what I will learn all that is 
 to be known about this gay prince Florizel, who 
 comes masquerading here, to the dismay of the 
 native chivalry." 
 
 "You can do as you like," replied Dick; "for 
 my part, I wish Miss Littleton joy of her con 
 quest, and hope she will have the good taste not 
 to gratify your impertinent curiosity." 
 
 "Thank you kindly, my pink of good manners," 
 said Carleton, acknowledging the civil speech with 
 his best bow. "Then I am to expect neither help 
 nor favor from you. N' imports; I'll wage the fight 
 single-handed and alone, and the honor of the victory 
 will be wholly mine. But why are you so ven 
 omously spiteful towards your cousin Mary? Every 
 body says she is very beautiful, and many sensible 
 people have told me it was next to impossible to 
 resist her fascinating ways." 
 
 Dick. "Did you never see her?'' 
 
 Harry. " Yes ; once when we were both mere 
 children I remember ffoinff with mv mother on a
 
 WOODBOURXE. 145 
 
 visit to Clifton ; she was then a little brown, hazel- 
 eyed chit in a pinafore and pantalettes, and, us I 
 thought, with a considerable touch of the tiger in 
 her composition. We had a pitched battle over my 
 whip-top, and she used her claws to such good pur 
 pose that my face and hands smart at the men 
 tion of it to this day. From which early experience 
 of her mettle, I would hazard the opinion that 
 Miss Littleton, is, at all events, a decidedly plucky 
 girl in addition to her personal charms." 
 
 Dick (frowning majestically). " She certainly does 
 not lack for beauty, and is, morever, as they say, 
 very brilliant in conversation, manners, and all that; 
 nevertheless, I believe she is an artful, designing, 
 heartless coquette." 
 
 Harry. "An artful, designing, heartless coquette! 
 You shock me beyond expression 
 
 '* ' With every pleasing, every prudent part, 
 
 Say, what does Chloe want? S'ae wants a heart!' 
 
 A sad want truly. "Who reigns o'er hearts, should 
 surely have .a heart, and a big one at that. This 
 is a terrible accusation you bring against the 'famed 
 
 Belinda' of "W shire. Are you prepared with 
 
 the proofs? Where are the horrid witnesses of her 
 inhuman cruelty? Where the bleached bones of the 
 wretched victims whom this syren has lured to 
 their untimely doom? Come, I insist on your at 
 once producing the corpus delicti, as the lawyers 
 say, else the lady is acquitted, and you stand in 
 the pillory for rank perjury. What, dumb as an 
 oyster? It is then even as I conjectured you can't 
 show so much as the metacarpal of a milk-sop 
 who has been brained with my lady's fan." 
 
 13
 
 146 WOODBOLKNE. 
 
 The whole of this humorous sally was lost on 
 Mr. Eichard Alloway; he had, in the middle of it, 
 taken to whistling after his peculiarly dolorous 
 fashion, hot indeed, like the love-lorn lout, for want 
 of thought, but as a running accompaniment to 
 certain unpleasant cogitations. 
 
 "Since she is disposed of," he said, musingly, 
 "I wonder who of the lovely dears will next set 
 up for a reigning belle on the stock-in-trade of 
 her ladyship's laving , to borrow Mike's expression. 
 Mike Avas one day giving me a graphic description 
 of the heartless exactions of some of the landed 
 gentry in Ireland. ' Och, Misther Dick,' said he, 
 'they be like the locusses of Aigypt that Miss- 
 thress Murchieson (who is Mike's better half) was 
 rading to me about out of the Good Book; they 
 ates up everything as clane as the deck of a man- 
 o'-war, and gives the lavings to the poor.' " 
 
 Carleton laughed. 
 
 "Pray, who is this Mike I have heard you quote 
 so often?" he asked. 
 
 "Mike Burke," cried Alloway, seizing upon the 
 diverting theme with surprising avidity. "Is it pos 
 sible I have never told you of my Milesian treas 
 ure, the most waggishly humorous and irresistibly 
 droll of the blundering tribe of St. Patrick. Let 
 me see, hang me, if I know much more of Mike's 
 juvenile days than I do of ," 
 
 "The black-eyed troubador's," said Carleton smil 
 ing, as he pointed over his shoulder in the direc 
 tion of Clifton. 
 
 "The devil," quoth Dick. "However, its of no 
 consequence; he was sufficiently well accredited when
 
 WOODBOU113TE. 147 
 
 he came here, and has since given hostages for his 
 future good behavior. It was I who got him his 
 wife. Mike, you must know, is a sailor, a genuine 
 old, weather-beaten son of Neptune, with a hand of 
 iron, and a heart I was about to say of oak, but 
 I know it to be as soft as a woman's. There is 
 no place from China to Peru he has not visited; 
 he was with Captain Byron in his last cruise, and 
 sailed with Captain Cook in his first voyage around 
 the world; and you should hear him tell of the 
 wonders he saw 'ayont the antipodes.' But don't 
 intimate a doubt of his veracity if you value his 
 friendship. Well, he was picked up somewhere by 
 the skipper of the Katrine, with whom he made 
 one or two ' trips I forget exactly how many to 
 Virginia. In one of these flying visits he saw, 
 loved and courted in true sailor style, the buxom 
 widow Murchieson, whose late husband had been a 
 tenant of Mr. Graeme, and may be his Scotch red- 
 cousin in the eleventh degree. The widow liked 
 Mike well enough to marry him, but unluckily 
 she, in a gush of sorrowful good nature, promised 
 her deceased spouse that she would not take that 
 perilous leap in the dark a second time without 
 having obtained the consent and benison of Mr. 
 Graeme, and, for what reason I could never rightly 
 comprehend, the old gentleman positively forbade 
 the banns, or what amounted to the same thing, 
 he refused to have anything to do with the mat 
 ter. Mrs. Murchieson, he said, was old enough to 
 choose a husband for herself, and he knew nothing 
 whatever, good or bad, of this wandering Je\v of 
 an Irishman."
 
 148 \VOODBOURNE. 
 
 " I am sure that was reason a plenty for his 
 refusal," suggested Carleton. 
 
 "For Mr. Graeme, yes; but it did not satisfy 
 me. I had conceived a strong passion for Mike, 
 and he was so bent on giving over his nomadic, 
 sea-faring life, and spending the rest of his days 
 in peace and quiet under the widow's tempting 
 vine and fig tree, that I got his captain to go 
 with me to see Mr. Graeme and intercede in his 
 behalf. After considerable persuasion on our part, 
 and an earnest appeal from Miss Lucy, he at length 
 relented and signed the paper I had prepared, gay- 
 ing, as he did so, in his cautious manner: *AYeeI, 
 weel, lads, Dame Murchieson maun gang her ain 
 gate, that is, wi' my permission, and gin she finds 
 to her dool she has forgathered wi' a beggar, she 
 maun mak' the maist o' a bad bargain ; she kens the 
 proverb well enough.' Mike was happy, so was the 
 widow, and from that day we have been fast friends. 
 But I have never been able to correct one bad 
 habit in Mike. He will persist in calling Mr. 
 Graeme <yer riverence.' Doubtless he intends thereby 
 the highest possible respect; but the worthy gen 
 tleman does not like the idea of being taken for 
 a papist priest, although he has not the holy horror 
 of popery that some people profess." 
 
 Harry. "How has your interesting old sea-dog 
 fared ashore?" 
 
 Dick. "Oh, he is a very model of hen-pecked 
 Benedicts. Like a good many others who have 
 weathered that Cape of Good Hope, he found the 
 land he had reached was far from being the 'cloud 
 less Olympus' of a lover's fancy. Mrs. Murchieson,
 
 WOODBOURtfE. 149 
 
 as he still calls his wife, has her little pilfering 
 tempers, and when thoroughly roused, her wrath, 
 says Mike, is tenfold worse than the raging sea. 
 But he has his boat, and the friendly river runs 
 close by their cabin, and as soon as a speck of 
 cloud rises on the domestic horizon, he rushes 
 headlong for the beach and puts to sea, no matter 
 for the weather, until the storm ashore has sub 
 sided. He informed me once, as a great secret, 
 that he never stood in so much awe of but one other 
 being, which was the 'Admiral,' as he calls Captain 
 Cook, and surely if rank and merit went always 
 hand in hand, no man in his majesty's navy better 
 deserves the title. It mattered not how hard the 
 wind blew, if the captain was in a fret, the cross- 
 trees, said Mike, was a more comfortable berth 
 than the quarter-deck. The piping of old Boreas 
 in his most frantic mood was delightful music in 
 comparison with the terrible clangor of the speaking 
 trumpet in the hands of this born ruler of the 
 roughest of his race. But it is impossible for me 
 to do justice to Mike's hero. Have you read the 
 account of his marvellous voyage ? " 
 
 Harry. "Only such snatches of it as have ap 
 peared in the public prints." 
 
 Dick. "Then I have a rare entertainment in 
 store for you. What say you to a sail in Mike's 
 fishing smack, and a thrilling chapter or so from 
 his inexhaustible log-book?" 
 
 Harry. "I should like it of all things, next to 
 a cruise with the great 'Admiral' himself. I agree 
 with you in your estimate of Cook's abilities. He 
 has not only proved himself to be the most daring 
 
 13*
 
 150 WOODBOURXE. 
 
 and skillful navigator of the day, but he has also 
 evinced the highest qualities of a great naval com 
 mander. I wish we had a dozen like him in com 
 mand of as many good, stout ships of war, we 
 would soon teach the insolent, self-styled mistress 
 of the seas that she has no charter to ravage and 
 despoil at will, merely to make good the prophetic 
 anthem of her guardian angels, 'Britons shall 
 never be made slaves ! ' For was it not so written 
 in the book of destiny, says or sings the mighty 
 bard 
 
 " ' When Britain first at heaven's command, 
 Arose from out the azure main?' 
 
 And this gasconading twaddle was actually rewarded 
 with the guerdon of a sycophant's ambition, a sin 
 ecure office under government! Slaves, did he say? 
 What has he done with the angelic creatures, who 
 were auctioned off at Rome to the highest bidder?" 
 
 "Those were unfortunate captives, Harry," said 
 Dick, vainly trying to rescue the "free-born Bri 
 tons" from a merciless belaboring. "Part of the 
 spolia opima of the Roman conqueror." 
 
 "No such thing," continued Carleton, giving the 
 reins to his hobby-horse. "Either history is a 
 colossal lie, or these same thrasonical braggarts were 
 little better than a nation of slaves from the day 
 that Caesar planted his standard on their sacred 
 soil to that on which the Norman despot's iron heel 
 stamped out the last lingering spark of liberty, and 
 they remained for centuries the pusillanimous serfs 
 and villains of feudal tyranny. Besides, they have 
 meekly endured every phase of anarchy and revo 
 lution, passed through the flames of religious per-
 
 WOODBOURXE. 151 
 
 secution, and suffered all the calamities of lawless 
 usurpation and grinding oppression. And even now 
 they are the obedient, submissive vassals of the 
 vile tyrant, who seeks to bind us with galling 
 chains." 
 
 "Breathe awhile, Harry/' said Dick, "and at 
 'em again. Your invective is superb. What does 
 Addison say? Oh, I have it: 
 
 " ' 'Tis liberty that crowns Brittania's isle, 
 
 And makes her barren rocks and her bleak moun 
 tains smile.' 
 
 Was I ranting in good earnest, Dick?" inquired 
 his companion, with an innocent look. "Oh, how 
 I do detest the trumpery fustian stuff called elo 
 quence all sound and fury, signifying nothing. It 
 was Cortez, I believe, who said that some things 
 should be done before they were thought upon a 
 proper maxim for a foolhardy, hair-brained adven 
 turer. Yet certain it is, that over-much talking 
 about a matter of life and death importance is apt 
 to beget irresolution and fatal delay in its execution. 
 Many a flighty purpose has gone careering to the 
 limbo of vanity on the furious gale of windy 
 declamation. Has not Patrick Henry said all that 
 can be said on the subject? Then why do not 
 our conscript Fathers declare at once for indepen 
 dence, and cease to talk about it?" 
 
 "It will require a legion of light-horse to back 
 the declaration, brave captain," said Dick. 
 
 "Yes," replied the impetuous Carleton; "and 
 they can be had at a minute's warning. Every 
 man in Virginia will leap to arms at the first 
 note of that inspiring tocsin."
 
 152 WOODBOURXE. 
 
 There was nothing in this eager outburst incon 
 sistent with his previous utterances. He saw that 
 the conflict was inevitable; he anticipated the final 
 result, and his soul was rilled with the sublime 
 thought of a young nation liberated from colonial 
 bondage, and starting upon its career of imperish 
 able glory. 
 
 At this stage of the conversation, our cavaliers 
 were interrupted by a messenger, who came to say 
 that Mr. Graeme awaited their presence at the 
 house, and glad to escape from their dangerous 
 society, we will invite the reader to continue his 
 round of nmketting in more agreeable company.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 (HE lady and gentleman Avhose appearance 
 gave rise to the foregoing animadversions 
 of Mr. Eichard Alloway, in a little while 
 have returned from their morning jaunt 
 on horseback. But it is all too charming the luxu 
 rious effulgence of the glorious autumnal sky to 
 be imprisoned within doors, and they have barely 
 entered the house before they come forth again, 
 this time equipped for a walk. After a turn or 
 two on the spacious terrace, and around the grand 
 circle, and down the broad avenue, they are finally 
 discovered idly wandering through the groves and 
 glades of the deerless park which skirts the lawn 
 on the side nearest to the river. A gigantic oak 
 has been blown down in a furious gale last sum 
 mer. It is clinging desperately to life by one frail 
 root, and its proud head, now a shapeless mass of 
 ruin, hangs helplessly over a dismal hollow. To 
 the moralist it presented the familiar symbol of 
 dethroned majesty of the sure fate that overtakes 
 alike the loftiest and lowliest of mortal men. Other 
 wise rugged and forlorn, to say nothing of its 
 proximity to the deep and dark ravine, the spot 
 
 (153)
 
 154 WOODBOURXE. 
 
 had none of the attractive features of the poetical 
 trysting-place of "Love's young dream." Yet here 
 the ramblers pause; the gentleman assists the lady 
 to a seat on the gnarled trunk of the prostrate 
 giant, and himself leans gracefully against a shat 
 tered limb. 
 
 In one respect, Mr. Richard Alloway's portrait 
 of his fair cousin has not exceeded the bounds of 
 truthful delineation. It is the most bewitchingly 
 beautiful face in the world that is looking up at 
 its companion out of a wondrous glory of cluster 
 ing brown curls, and it is moreover apparent to a 
 connoisseur in such matters that the deep, earnest, 
 adoring expression of those eloquent eyes could not 
 possibly be counterfeited by the most consummately 
 wicked of coquettes. There is no denying the soft 
 impeachment 
 
 Love in her sunny eyes doth basking play, 
 Love walks the pleasant mazes of her hair, 
 
 Love does on both her lips forever stray, 
 And sows and reaps a thousand kisses there. 
 
 And in her case, these outward and visible tokens 
 of an inward and spiritual grace plainly denoted 
 that love had gone within, and nestled like a dove 
 in the warmest corner of her heart. 
 
 But, out upon the "rude Carinthian boor" of a 
 limner, who has done the handsome and houseless 
 stranger such unmannerly despite. True, his 
 abundant and flowing tresses, worn in contempt of 
 the prevailing mode, are the hue of the raven's 
 wing, but they shade a brow and features that 
 are strikingly noble, intelligent and attractive, and
 
 AVOODBOURXE. 155 
 
 so far from wearing a ferocious or even austere 
 aspect, the full, black orbs have quenched their 
 fiery darts in a flood of tenderest lustre, and repay 
 the lady her loving gaze with usury. He is speak 
 ing, and although his language is English, pure 
 and fluent, he makes no attempt to disguise the 
 marked accent which betrays his foreign nativity. 
 
 "There is no longer room for a reasonable doubt 
 on the subject," said he, pursuing a theme in 
 which he was intensely interested. "Your late 
 cousin, Mr. Richard Austin, answers perfectly to 
 the description of our incognito. No wonder the 
 Abbe's usual penetration failed him here he had 
 no earthly ground to suspect that the object of 
 his search was all that time hiding from his most 
 intimate friends. It was his nephew, you tell me, 
 with whom I had the pleasant encounter of the 
 fox hunt? I should not have divined the relation 
 ship from any external resemblance to the original 
 of the picture, as drawn by the master of the 
 Grande Chartreuse the one a frail, delicate, pale- 
 eyecl, silver-toned and morbidly sensitive student; 
 the other, a stout, hirsute, bold and devil-may-care 
 sportsman, with the brawn of a Milo, and the lungs 
 of a Stentor." 
 
 The lady smiled. 
 
 ?'It would, indeed, be difficult," she replied, "to 
 find two near kinsmen more utterly dissimilar in 
 personal appearance. But you wrong my cousin 
 Richard if you imagine he is only the stature, 
 bulk, and big assemblance of a man. He is a 
 noble-hearted, brave and generous fellow, if lie has 
 of late taken up a most unaccountable dislike of 
 me."
 
 156 WOODBOURXE. 
 
 "And thereby established his claim to my regard," 
 said Conrad, laughingly. "I readily forgive him 
 his making merry over my ridiculous misadventure; 
 it served me right for coming in at the fag end 
 of the chase to try to rob him of his well-earned 
 laurels. But his behavior in the other case " 
 
 " Nay," cried Miss Littleton, in the same ban 
 tering tone, "I reject your championship. Leave 
 me to fight my own battles with this great giant, 
 and you will, in no time, behold a bloodless tri 
 umph, no love lost, and no bones broken. After 
 all, it was a trifling matter to quarrel about, and 
 if he is as heartily ashamed of it as I am, there 
 will be no trouble in bringing about a speedy res 
 toration of our former amicable relations. On due 
 reflection, I am convinced that I was the party 
 most at fault. There can be no excuse for the 
 rude and scornful manner in which I repudiated 
 his well-meant intercession in a dear friend's behalf. 
 A woman is apt to exaggerate offences when she 
 is conscious of imprudence in giving occasion for 
 invidious criticism. I remember being exceedingly 
 indignant with him at the time, and I did not 
 scruple to berate him soundly for having been the 
 cause of a painful misunderstanding with the 
 Graemes, to whom I was really attached." 
 
 "Did he accuse you flatly of having jilted Mr. 
 George Graeme?" asked Conrad. 
 
 "Yes," replied Mary, "or at least his language 
 implied as much, and besides, he called me a lit 
 tle fury, and, I verily believe, he wished I had 
 been a man, that he might take me to personal 
 account. To be sure, he apologized for his angry
 
 WOODBOUHNE. 157 
 
 conduct, but I was so much incensed at the thought 
 of a rupture with my friends at Bonhill, the result 
 of his awkward intermeddling, that I repulsed his 
 overtures, and thus the matter stands open between 
 us at present. Unfortunately for me, the reputed 
 victim of my artful wiles was gone away to Scot 
 land, and so Dame Gossip had everything her own 
 way. But worst affliction, I had to endure my 
 good aunt's interminable lectures ; for, strange to 
 say, she obstinately refused to listen to one word 
 of explanation from me, and charged my delin 
 quencies, as she was pleased to call them, to the 
 account of setting at naught her wholesome admo 
 nitions. In such a desperate strait, there was no 
 recourse left me but to fly for shelter to my sister 
 in Maryland." 
 
 "In which hegira from persecution, you have 
 furnished another striking illustration of the pro 
 verb which has been so often exemplified in my 
 humble career, *L'ffomni5 propose ct Dieu dispose,'" 
 exclaimed the passionate lover. 
 
 " Take care how you bless your stars on the 
 event," replied the wayward damsel, with a saucy 
 glance, " for, if report be true, you have this time 
 experienced the truth of a different adage alto 
 gether, and only caught a Tartar for your pains. 
 There, let go my hand and behave like a rational 
 being. And, since you are in the sentimental vein, 
 tell me a pretty love story out of your book of 
 romantic chronicles, and, in return, I will impro 
 vise you an Indian legend." 
 
 "Another time, under favor, my gracious queen," 
 gaid Conrad. "You forget I have an appointment 
 
 14
 
 158 WOODBOURNE. 
 
 with the Abbe, which I must on no account fail 
 to keep." 
 
 "It had indeed escaped me," replied Mary, look 
 ing grave. "Are you compelled to go this after 
 noon?" 
 
 Conrad. "I am; the business between us admits 
 of no delay." 
 
 Mary. "How very provoking. I had set my 
 heart on your going to Bonhill to-night, and being 
 introduced to the company by your proper name 
 and title." 
 
 Conrad. "I fear you will be deprived of that 
 gratification. What is the distance, to Yeocomico, 
 the place at which I am to meet the Abbe?" 
 
 Mary. "Scarcely an hour's ride. What is that 
 noise ? " 
 
 There was a strange rustling sound among the 
 leaves of the fallen oak, although there was not a 
 breath of wind astir. 
 
 "Only a bird," said Conrad, replying to her 
 look of alarm. 
 
 The explanation was plausible, but it did not 
 allay Miss Littleton's suspicions. As the conversa 
 tion proceeded, she was repeatedly observed to cast 
 uneasy glances in the direction whence the sound 
 proceeded. 
 
 " Suppose now," she went on to say, " that I 
 were to insist upon your deferring this visit until 
 to morrow morning ? " 
 
 "Pardonnez-moi, ma belle amie," replied her com 
 panion; "but it is not a supposable matter. You 
 are aware that the ship is ready to put to sea 
 with the first favorable gale after midnight, and I
 
 WOODBOURNE. 159 
 
 am no more a Prospero than you are a Lapland 
 witch or other kind of contraband dealer in con 
 trary winds. Besides, the excellent father makes 
 free use of the imperative mood in his missive, 
 and we have a great many things to talk over. 
 Of course I shall be required to answer for my 
 dealings with a certain incorrigible little heretic, 
 and what have I to urge in my defence? Abso 
 lutely nothing. Only a miracle of grace can save 
 me from the awful expiation of an auto-da-fe. The 
 Abbe is a master of the art of persuasion, but 
 even his eloquence would be lost on such an ob 
 stinate rebel. Convert her! He may as well go 
 with good St. Anthony and preach salvation tot 
 the fishes." 
 
 At this audacious speech the young lady bridled 
 up with the best imitation of offended dignity she 
 could muster on so short a notice. There was one 
 subject on which these lovers had very prudently 
 resolved mutually to exercise the largest amount of 
 the liberty of liberties videlicet the liberty of dis 
 agreeing. In the archest manner imaginable, and 
 with the aptest exhibition of ironical humor, she 
 held up a taper finger, on which glittered a ring 
 begemmed with costly jewels. 
 
 "Since it is to the confessional you are going, 
 my poor penitent," said she with mock compas 
 sion, "be sure you carry the sin-offering with 
 you;" then suddenly pouting and affecting the air 
 and tone of injured beauty, which has a right to 
 be absurdly jealous and outrageously exacting, she 
 added lachrymosely, "I believe you love Father 
 Soule better than you do anybody else in the 
 world."
 
 160 WOODBOUKKE. 
 
 "Not exactly," said Conrad, earnestly. "But it 
 is quite probable I should have been unworthy of 
 the love of one body in the world had it not been 
 my good fortune to have for a mentor, at once 
 the best, the gentlest and the wisest of men. You 
 should have heard what Mr. Carroll said of him 
 if you deem . my encomium extravagant. * Father 
 Soule,' lie said to me one day, in his deliberate 
 manner, 'approaches, in my estimation, as near to 
 being a pure and perfect intelligence as it is pos 
 sible to conceive of in a finite and fallible mortal/ 
 His learning is only excelled by his piety, and 
 both are unfathomable. He is a philosopher with 
 out scepticism, a polemic without acerbity, a priest 
 without bigotry. The most subtle and profound of 
 thinkers, the most captivating of reasoners, the 
 most erudite of scholars, the humblest of believers, 
 he is what Socrates might have been had he too 
 been a Christian." 
 
 "A wonderful character, truly, for a Jesuit priest," 
 exclaimed the persistent heretic, "for such I un 
 derstand is your incomparable guide, philosopher 
 and friend." 
 
 Conrad was now constrained to take up the cud 
 gels for his tutor in downright earnest. "Yes," 
 said he, " I do not blush to proclaim it in spite 
 of the late extraordinary decree of Borne. He does 
 belong to that illustrious society which has been 
 so grievously scandalized by the conduct of un 
 worthy members, and his life has been a shining 
 example of its sublime motto All things for the 
 greater glory of God." 
 
 "And pray tell me," retorted the fair disputant,
 
 WOODBOURNE. 101 
 
 " whence came the prerogative of your magnificent 
 order to that pious posy? To my thinking, it is 
 of the essence of religion the world over to ascribe 
 all honor, praise and glory to Him from whom 
 cometh every good and perfect gift. It is certainly 
 so taught in my Bible and Prayer Book. All 
 things for the greater glory of God? Why it is 
 the soul of Christian Avorship, the burden of every 
 sacred missal, the universal doxology of devotional 
 piety, and you would appropriate it to adorn the 
 phylactery of an effete monkish institution. That 
 will do, not another syllable, as you are a gallant 
 gentleman; I claim the privilege of my sex, the 
 last word. You began the dispute without warning, 
 I will put an end to it with equal abruptness. 
 You have neglected to say whether or not my 
 poor cousin's death necessitates an alteration in 
 your plans." 
 
 "That will be as the good father will decide," 
 replied Conrad, now all meek submission. 
 
 "And has not the good father's dutiful son any 
 opinion of his own on so vital a subject?" 
 
 "He-Men! It is really my poor opinion to which 
 your ladyship attaches so great value." Then grow-- 
 ing suddenly serious, he proceeded. " The plan of 
 procedure shall not be changed in a single par 
 ticular with my consent. The proofs, to be sure, 
 are not sufficient in law; there is one link missing, 
 in the chain of evidence which only Mr. Austin 
 could have supplied. But I am not a suppliant of 
 British justice. I expect no redress at the hands 
 of my father's malignant enemies ; my lot in thai- 
 regard is now irrevocably fixed ; henceforth, for 
 
 14*
 
 102 AVOODBOUKNE. 
 
 weal or woe, I am an American. My private score 
 with a sworn and implacable foe shall not turn me 
 from the line of duty; he may procrastinate the 
 day of settlement, but as a just God reigneth, he 
 will live to see the consequences of his unnatural 
 guilt. To morrow your father shall know my whole 
 history, from which time I shall assume my right 
 ful name, rank and station." 
 
 "Why not allow me the privilege of telling it 
 all to my friends this very night ? " eagerly in 
 quired Mary Littleton. 
 
 "So be it," replied Conrad, after a moment's re 
 flection. " Provided, of course, that I get back in 
 time to bear you company. Still it is proper for 
 me to inform Colonel Littleton who I am, and to 
 learn what he has to say about the after intro 
 duction. You must remember, too, there is another 
 important matter about which he is to be con 
 sulted." 
 
 The lady looked up inquiringly, but there was no 
 need of explanation ; the rosy flush which suffused 
 her cheek showed how truly she interpreted his 
 meaning glance. 
 
 "Does Father Soule approve your Bending this 
 letter to the person they call Sir William Mark- 
 ham ? " she asked, covering her momentary con 
 fusion by recurrence to the previous engrossing 
 topic. 
 
 "More than that," replied Conrad; "the letter 
 was originally written at his dictation two months 
 ago. I could not trust myself to phrase it after 
 what had occurred between us." His thin lips 
 grew tremulous with suppressed passion, and a
 
 WOODBOURNE. 163 
 
 sudden gleam like lightning from a passing sum 
 mer cloud shot from the speaker's brilliant eyes. 
 " The bloody reckoning Avas not of my seeking ; 
 my mission to England was for peace and recon 
 ciliation, to heal the gaping wounds which civil 
 broils had made in our unhappy house, and I was 
 ready to make every sacrifice but one to secure 
 that consummation. Even now, my terms are fair, 
 honorable and just. If Sir William Markham again 
 rejects them, on his head shall rest the guilt of 
 keeping open wounds that may rankle to the 
 death." 
 
 The vehemence of his manner, and his lofty 
 mien, elate and instinct with conscious power to 
 will and to do, brought a bright glow of admira 
 tion to the lovely features of his companion; but 
 before she could frame a reply, the limbs of the 
 great oak were violently shaken, which startling 
 phenomenon was immediately followed by a dull 
 thud and the crackling sound of breaking twigs, 
 as though some heavy body had fallen to the 
 ground and rolled down the side of the ravine. 
 Conrad ran to the edge and peered over. Then, 
 with a loud shout, he bounded down the bank in 
 pursuit, as fast as the dense thicket of undergrowth 
 permitted. Presently he came panting back, with 
 a small sporting rifle in his hand. 
 
 " The scamp was too fleet for me," he said ; " but 
 he has lost his gun." 
 
 "It is Archie's," replied Mary, "and here he is. 
 What is the matter child? The gentleman will 
 not harm you." 
 
 The question did not imply alarm; for barring a
 
 164 -W'OODBOUKXE. 
 
 scratch on the cheek, the lad was not hurt, and 
 his buckskin hunting suit was briar and bramble 
 proof; but his face showed signs of deep vexation 
 and shame. 
 
 "I'm not afraid of him," he said, his color 
 deepening as he shot a fiery glance at Conrad, 
 who was regarding him with a half amused, half- 
 admiring look. "Indeed, Miss Mary, it was an 
 accident my being here. I saw you coming, and 
 hid in the tree for fun." 
 
 "Queer notion of fun, you little eavesdropper," 
 said Conrad. 
 
 Again the boy's face grew crimson with indigna 
 tion, and his eyes flashed defiance at his accuser. 
 
 "It is false," he cried. "Miss Mary, you ," 
 
 "Do not believe you capable of such an act, 
 Archie," replied the lady, hastening to his relief; 
 "nor shall this gentleman do you such injustice 
 in his thoughts, if I can help it. Mr. Conrad, 
 this is the little friend of whom you have heard 
 me speak." 
 
 "And whose acquaintance I have so much de 
 sired to make," said Conrad, with winning cour 
 tesy ; " I recall the offensive expression ; there, my 
 little fellow, take your pretty gun, and with it my 
 hand, and thus, there is an end of it. Now, hie 
 away after that 'bunny" that's chattering down 
 there in the ravine, and leave Miss Littleton and 
 me to finish our conversation." 
 
 "Stay, Archie," exclaimed Mary, as the boy 
 turned to go; "who is that man?" 
 
 Conrad and the boy looked quickly in the direc 
 tion she pointed, and saw a man dressed in the garb
 
 WOODBOURKE. 165 
 
 of a sailor, some fifty paces distant, walking hur 
 riedly through the Park towards the river. Another 
 moment he was out of sight. 
 
 ' It isn't Mike/' said Archie ; " I'll run after him 
 and see ," 
 
 "No, no," said Mary, hastily; "it does not mat 
 ter. Go on to the house and tell aunt Mr Conrad 
 is going away before dinner, and don't go home 
 until I see you again ; I have something to send 
 your mother. That's a good boy; there's a kiss 
 for you." 
 
 Archie blushed in acknowledgment of the favor, 
 and, bowing gracefully to Conrad, scampered off as 
 she requested. 
 
 " Your page is very obedient, but why so thought 
 ful, lady mine?" said Conrad, observing that the 
 capricious damsel was following the boy with a 
 serious gaze. Mary started, blushing slightly. 
 
 "It is nothing," she said, "only a foolish fancy;" 
 but seeing that he still regarded her with a ques 
 tioning look, she proceeded: "You remember as we 
 were riding home this morning through the wood, 
 we heard the report of a gun. It caused me to 
 turn my head, and, fast as we Avere going, I caught 
 sight of that same man skulking among the bushes 
 near the road. He was looking straight at me, and 
 a more forbidding face, though I saw it for an 
 instant only, I never looked on. When I discov 
 ered him just now he was peering at Archie from 
 behind that tree in a stealthy manner. At once a 
 suspicion took hold of me that he was dogging 
 the boy's steps for some evil purpose. Quite ab 
 surd, wasn't it?"
 
 166 WOODBOUKXE, 
 
 " By no means," said Conrad ; " the suspicion 
 was natural enough. What a spitfire the lad is ; 
 it is well for me he was disarmed. I like his 
 spirit." 
 
 Mary. "And if he were eavesdropping, it is pre 
 cious little he got for his trouble." 
 
 Conrad. "True; what a model pair of turtle 
 doves we are to be sure." 
 
 Lovers have an incomprehensible language for 
 which there is neither lexicon nor grammar. AVhy 
 the other "dove"' should spring from her perch 
 and dart like an arrow so quickly across the glade 
 at that innocent allusion, was to the uninitiated 
 observer an unaccountably strange proceeding. Away 
 she sped through the park, nor paused in her 
 flight until she reached the open lawn and caught 
 sight of Aunt Theodora's vigilant face looking out 
 at her chamber window. Then she turned upon 
 her baffled pursuer with a silvery peal of defiance, 
 to which the discomfited swain replied with the 
 baldest pretence of supreme nonchalance. 
 
 Passing the reviewing officer with the most pre 
 cise decorum, the lovers entered the house. 
 
 "Xow," said Mary, "I must go and have a lunch 
 got ready for you while you are making prepara 
 tions for your ride." 
 
 Conrad's rapturous gaze followed her graceful 
 form as she tripped away on her errand. "Be 
 hold!" he exclaimed, in a transport of feeling, "the 
 first gift of my adopted land a treasure I would 
 not barter for all the wealth and dignities that 
 kings can bestow. The Abbe must surely approve 
 my choice, unless he intends I shall never marry.
 
 WOODBOUKXE. 167 
 
 How unlucky lie should be called away so sud 
 denly. At least Ave must contrive to detain this 
 vessel, if only for a day. He will then have an 
 opportunity of seeing her before he goes on this 
 perilous voyage." So saying, he hastened to get 
 ready for his journey.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 T is the night of the party. Bonhill is 
 aglow with a blaze of glory, and flames 
 afar like a cheering beacon from its hill 
 of pride. Cavalcade after cavalcade of 
 country beaux and belles are pouring in, and soon 
 the jocund sounds of revelry are floating gaily on 
 the palpitating air. Old Uncle Phil, the black 
 fiddler, like another Timotheus, or ebony image of 
 the musical god himself, raised on high, rules the 
 monarch of a season over as goodly a company of 
 fair women and brave men as ever moved submis 
 sive to the spell of enchanting minstrelsy. Chacim 
 a son gout. Let such as like, "dance after a Mon 
 sieur's flageolet," or, if they prefer, "have a set 
 of English viols to their concert;" but for the 
 kind of melody which puts life and mettle into 
 heel and toe, which "awakes the pert and nimble 
 spirit of mirth and turns melancholy forth to 
 funerals," there is no instrument of music which 
 bears comparison with a tuneful fiddle under the 
 skillful manipulation of some sable Orpheus from 
 Old Virginia's shore. 0, the wonderful works of 
 
 (108)
 
 WOODBOURNE. 169 
 
 nature ! Who would imagine that the soul of har 
 mony resided in the entrails of a caterwauling 
 grimalkin? How the secret was first made known 
 is a question about which there is much diversity 
 of opinion among learned Thebans, so we will cut 
 the matter short by agreeing with the "auld gabbit 
 poets," that 
 
 Jove's nimble son and leckie snel 
 M.ide the first fiddle of a shell, 
 
 On which Apollo, 
 With mickle pleasure, played himsel 
 
 Baith jig and solo. 
 
 It is the first time that Bonhill has witnessed 
 such a scene of merriment and glee; but not the 
 last by a countless number. Ofttimes have we be 
 held the like display in those cheery old halls little 
 or nothing changed, save in the names and costumes 
 of the actors; danced the same minuets and coun 
 try dances, reels and rigadoons, and cut nameless 
 fantastic capers to the lively strains of the identi 
 cal cremona bequeathed from, sooty sire to son; 
 listened to the like merry din of inarticulate voices 
 and clatter of many twinkling feet; the same glad 
 some chimes of silvery laughter, rustling of silken 
 folds, and, crowning all, the deft prompter's gutteral 
 tones calling out the figures of the dance every 
 charming feature as fresh and joyous as on that 
 first night when youth and pleasure here for 
 gathered " to chase the glowing hours with fiying 
 feet." 
 
 There is no observance here of formal ceremony 
 and staid etiquette ; all things are conducted on 
 
 15
 
 170 WOODBOUKXE. 
 
 that indescribably free and easy plan and decorous 
 regard of unstudied politeness which was the ruling 
 trait of the social gatherings of the olden time in 
 Virginia. The guests are, for the most part, known 
 to each other, and the unacquainted are soon re 
 lieved of embarrassment by a general introduction. 
 The first dance is ended; some of the company 
 are promenading in couples, others enjoying a quiet 
 tete-a-tete in a cozy corner, and, here and there, a 
 little group appears to be drawn together by the 
 magnetism of some acknowledged belle. In the 
 centre of one of these charmed circles shines re 
 splendent the beautiful star of Clifton. Her com 
 ing unattended by the strange gentleman was the 
 occasion of much surprise and some disappointment. 
 The explanation she vouchsafed of his absence only 
 served to enhance the general interest, and she was 
 made to run the gauntlet of inquisitive tongues. 
 Having borne the infliction for some time with 
 commendable suavity and good humor, she at length 
 seeks refuge from her tormentors by engaging in a 
 keen encounter of wit and raillery with a sprightly 
 young gentleman, who has only the day before 
 arrived home from a long sojourn abroad. This is 
 Mr. Charles Copland, Jr., late student of law of 
 Grey's Inn, London, where he has performed the 
 customary gastronomical exercises with more than 
 ordinary credit. Though she sustains her part in 
 the conversation with considerable spirit and vivacity, 
 it is evident on narrower scrutiny that her thoughts 
 are far from being wholly engrossed thereby. Occa 
 sionally her shafts fly at random, and once in a 
 while she is detected shooting a furtive glance
 
 WOODBOURXE. 171 
 
 across the room where Carleton is observed talking 
 to Lucy Graeme in a sedate and earnest manner, 
 which is strangely at variance with the prevailing 
 gaiety. 
 
 That arch diplomatist has lost no time in laying 
 his wily toils. Conscious of the delicacy of .the 
 undertaking, he had set about it with an adroit 
 ness which would have done credit to the genius 
 of a Temple or a Walsingham. While the dance 
 was going on he found a ready pretext for broach 
 ing the entertaining subject of his recent explora 
 tions to his partner, and so managed that Miss 
 Littleton should hear such significant snatches of 
 the story as to awaken her suspicions and arouse 
 an eager desire to hear the whole of it. Now, it 
 so happened that the object of his artful scheming 
 was at the same time revolving in her mind how 
 she could contrive to obtain certain information 
 from Mr. Richard Alloway of the supposed mys 
 terious adventures of his late uncle while in Europe, 
 and the apparently casual remarks which reached 
 her ears in the rounds of the dance satisfied her 
 that Carleton was in possession of the matter she 
 sought to discover. 
 
 Our friend Dick, we blush to record, was so un 
 gracious as to decline to meet his fair cousin's 
 advances towards reconciliation at the half-way house 
 of mutual concession ; he was inflexibly offish, stiff 
 and punctilious in his demeanor towards her. With 
 Lucy it was tout au conlrctire, not a word was 
 spoken of the disagreeable past; they glided at 
 once into their former intimate relations and were 
 the Rosalind and Celia of old, forgetful that a
 
 WOODBOURXE. 
 
 single clotul had ever darkened the heaven of re 
 ciprocal regard and congenial attachment. Presently, 
 Carleton joins the group who are gathered around 
 Mary Littleton, and claims her hand for the next 
 dance. 
 
 << Would you believe it, Mr. Carleton/' she ex 
 claimed, after acknowledging his demand, "here is 
 a gentleman all the way from London by the last 
 packet who cannot, for his life, tell a body a word 
 about the latest vogues? His talk is of nothing 
 but the long-winded debates in Parliament, the 
 grand sights he saw at my Lord Mayors show, the 
 ghostly mementoes of Westminster Abbey, the monu 
 mental mockeries of the hideous old Tower, and I 
 don't know how many other equally dull and stupid 
 things which we untraveled ignoramuses, of course, 
 never heard or read of before, and here I am 
 dying to learn if my aigrette is a-la-mode, my hair 
 properly craped, my tucker such as ladies of quality 
 wear, whether, in a word, I bs poin'-devise in all 
 all my accoutrements." 
 
 [ am glad you have come to my rescue, Carle- 
 ton," meekly responded the crest-fallen limb of the 
 law. "You see now what a fellow gets for being 
 so deucedly patriotic. I heartily wish I had stayed 
 in London after what I have gone through since 
 my return* What a dolt I was to entertain so 
 absurd a delusion. Just imagine my thinking all 
 ijhis long while that my fair country-women were 
 ever so busy, like true Spartan maids and matrons, 
 setting the example of independence clothing them 
 selves in the products of their own industrious 
 looms and spindles, knitting stockings for General
 
 WOODBOUKNE. 173 
 
 Washington's soldiers, and doing all manner of self- 
 sacrificing things, and just look at them, tricked 
 out in all their finery, chattering about the latest 
 fashions from London and Paris, and denying mo 
 the welcome they would readily bestow on any 
 smuggling pedler of new-fangled haberdashery. 
 Beauty when unadorned, adorned the most ! Senti 
 mental stuff! Why, what would a woman be with 
 out the ," 
 
 Carleton, ever ready, comes to his assistance with 
 a handy tag of rhyme: 
 
 "The powder, patches, and the pins, 
 The ribbons, jewels and the rings, 
 The lace, the paint and warlike things 
 That make up all their magazines?" 
 
 "Thank you, Harry." 
 
 " Cowley, you mean ; the words are not mine,'* 
 replied the artful chevalier, with an apologetic bow 
 to the ladies. 
 
 " Never mind," retorted Copland, " I am not afraid, 
 to adopt the quotation, it you are. Why, even Bella, 
 yonder bless her little heart, how she cried when 
 her big brother was sent away and there was no 
 one to play with her -even Bella, I say, now a. 
 woman grown, wept bitter tears of anguish in secret 
 when she heard that I had not brought her a new 
 silk gown. Well, there is nothing for me to do 
 but to swallow my mortification with the best grace 
 possible. At least there is a grain of consolation 
 in the loss of your kind favor, ladies, in the con 
 sciousness of having duly respected the laws of my 
 country. My entire invoice of imported articles is 
 
 15*
 
 174 WOODBOl'RXE. 
 
 summed up in a new book of songs for Miss Lucy, 
 and Scotch high-dried enough to keep my respected 
 father sneezing through a year's siege." 
 
 "Pray, tell me, Mr. Censor," said Mary, in the 
 same bantering tone, "what is the harm of our 
 wearing fine clothes, if we happen to have them ? 
 Then, sir, you forget that the prohibition is against 
 English goods. You might have bought Bella's 
 gown in Paris, where, I dare say, you spent the 
 worth of a dozen frolicking and sight-seeing with 
 that rantipole cousin of mine, Frank Tunstall, as 
 you told us awhile ago." 
 
 "Frank Tunstall! Did he return with you?" 
 asked Carleton. 
 
 " No," said Copland ; <: when I parted from him 
 in Paris he was preparing to set out on the grand 
 tour. Frank is become to be very much a citizen 
 of the world." 
 
 "And a greater coxcomb than ever, I imagine?" 
 said Carleton. 
 
 " Well, yes," replied Copland ; " he has cultivated 
 fashionable fopperies at a prodigious rate; yet, with 
 all his dandified airs and priggish notions, he is by 
 no means such a vapid creature as you think at 
 least, he is not deficient in spirit. By the way, 
 Miss Mary, I did not tell you how we both came 
 to be in Paris. Well, as I said, Frank's ruling pas 
 sion is to be a fine gentleman, and being hand 
 some and rich, and well-bred and all that, he soon 
 got the entree of the beau monde, where he sported 
 like a gorgeous butterfly. Could you hear him 
 descant on their daily rounds, you would not won 
 der that our dear cousins have no time to attend
 
 WOODBOURNE. 175 
 
 to the humble petitions with which we, as in duty 
 bound, have been clamorously besieging the throne 
 of kingly grace; they are literally overwhelmed with 
 the grievous cares of their unhappy state which con 
 demns them to oscillate eternally between the ex 
 tremes of ennui and dissipation. Frank deemed this 
 exquisite mode of killing time to be the acme of 
 refined beatitude, and he was was never a Sabbath 
 day's journey from his darling London, until an 
 unlucky contretemps fell out ," 
 
 "A love scrape with a maid of honor?" said 
 Mary Littleton. 
 
 "Pinked a young sprig of nobility in a duel?" 
 said Carleton. 
 
 " Neither," replied Copland ; " though quite as bad 
 as the one or the other. Returning home one night 
 from the opera, he took it into his head to ven 
 ture alone into White's, that paradise of beaux 
 yarcons and Jiommes dc, condition anglice fashion 
 able rakes and genteel sharpers where, not con 
 tent with the innocent diversion of being plucked 
 for a docile pigeon, he very foolishly suffered himself 
 to be inveigled into talking of politics. Of course, 
 in such a select assembly of loyal blades, the 
 rabble rout of American rebels were denounced, as 
 they should be, and the rash, intruding Virginian 
 was not long in finding himself an unwilling 
 auditor of all manner of scurrilous allusions, objur 
 gations and sneers, poured out without stint or 
 measure on his countrymen. He managed to keep 
 his choler down and sustain the unequal combat 
 of billingsgate and bravado until one of his assail 
 ants made some disparaging speech about General
 
 176 WOODBOUKNE. 
 
 Washington, who, among other claims to distinction, 
 has the honor to be nearly related to Frank on 
 his mother's side. A knock down, a general scuffle 
 and uproar, and all is dark to our hero until he 
 awakes next morning with a dim and confused per 
 ception of what had happened, and a humiliating 
 conviction that he was certainly demented to ven 
 ture by himself in that den full of the British 
 lion's whelps. He was lucky to get off with only 
 a bruised lip and one eye in mourning; but such 
 was his mortification that I had no trouble in per 
 suading him to pack his portmanteau and take the 
 first diligence for Dover. In a fortnight's time I 
 joined him in Paris, where I found him revelling 
 in the elysian delights of the gay metropolis and 
 railing in bad French at everything English in a 
 way that made the natives stare." 
 
 "And when is the splendid creature coming back 
 to the land of savages?" asked Mary. 
 
 "In the spring, he said," replied Copland. "I 
 shall promise him, when I write, a peifect ovation 
 from les belles-sauvages ! " 
 
 The young lawyer was in rapid retreat when he 
 discharged this Parthian arrow. As soon as he was 
 gone the little coterie dispersed, and Carleton and 
 Miss Littleton fell into line with the promenaders. 
 
 The diplomatist begins: "Miss Graeme tells me 
 she expected a rare addition to her company this 
 evening. She seems much disappointed that he did 
 not come ; to be frank, so am I." 
 
 "Indeed?" 
 
 "Yes; the gentleman to whom I allude is Mr. 
 Conrad."
 
 WOODBOUKNE. 177 
 
 " Oh, my father's guest. I have already endured 
 a siege of questioning on account of his failure to 
 put in an appearance here to-night. Pray, why are 
 you so deeply concerned about it?" 
 
 " From a better motive, I beg you will believe, 
 than impertinent curiosity. I have an important 
 reason for desiring to make Mr. Conrad's acquaint 
 ance. I am very much exercised over an investi 
 gation of certain transactions of your late cousin, 
 Mr. Richard Austin, -while traveling in Europe 
 many years ago, and I have a notion that Mr. 
 Conrad can be of service to me in the matter." 
 
 Mary was visibly disconcerted by the grave and 
 business-like precision with Avhich he opened the 
 conversation. She regarded him with a look of 
 puzzled surprise. 
 
 " Is it a confidential secret, Mr. Carleton ? " she 
 ventured timidly to ask. "In your turn, you have 
 said enough to stimulate my curiosity, of which 
 eminently feminine weakness I profess to have my 
 full share." 
 
 A preliminary scraping of the fiddle interrupted 
 Carleton's reply. 
 
 "The music is about to begin," he said; "we 
 must take our places for the dance." 
 
 "Are you fond of dancing, Mr. Carleton ? " asked 
 Mary. 
 
 " Y- es, with a pleasant partner ; usually, though, 
 I more enjoy looking on at others." 
 
 " Then, suppose you play spectator this time, and 
 continue the conversation you have started." 
 
 "I am delighted you have made the proposition." 
 
 "Where are you going, Harry?" cried Dick Allo-
 
 178 \VOODBOUKXE. 
 
 way, as they moved aside to make room for the 
 dancers. " You are wanted here to make up the 
 set," 
 
 "Please, Cousin Richard," entreated Mary, "find 
 another vis-a-vis; I ask to be excused this one 
 time." 
 
 " Certainly, if yon wish it," replied the self-con 
 stituted master of ceremonies, bowing coldly. 
 
 " What a handsome couple ! " was the general 
 comment which ran in a whisper round the room 
 as they left. 
 
 "Harry is hovering on the brink, Dick," said 
 Copland; "if he fall in, good night." 
 
 " Caught in the toils," muttered Alloway to him 
 self, '-'after the warning I gave him." 
 
 In the deserted drawing-room they found a secure 
 retreat from further interruption. Seating herself on 
 the sofa near one of the windows, Miss Littleton 
 artfully adjusted the folds of the thick damask cur 
 tain ,. ostensibly, as her glance indicated, to^ screen 
 the couple from prying eyes, but really so as to 
 throw a shadowy veil over her face and thus enable 
 her to defy penetration into the workings of her 
 mind. Thus ensconced, with a queenly inclina 
 tion she motioned her companion to a place 
 beside her, and asked with startling abruptness : 
 
 "Now, sir, what is it you would have of Mr. 
 Conrad?" 
 
 The question savored considerably of disdainful 
 hauteur. 
 
 "She treats me like an overgrown school boy," 
 thought Carleton, instinctively rubbing his calloAV 
 chin ; and, it must be confessed, appearances were
 
 WOODBOURXE. 179 
 
 decidedly against our diplomatic neophyte's success 
 ful performance of his serious role. 
 
 "I cannot hope to inspire you with the same 
 degree of interest I feel in this affair," said he; 
 "yet I may at least make bold to bespeak your 
 sympathy in behalf of an infatuated fellow-creature 
 who, following a whimsical humor of his own, is 
 at last caught floundering in a bog of troubles.'' 
 
 "Say, rather, a stargazing philosopher dropped 
 into a well," replied the veiled beauty, in the same 
 half scornful tone. " Poor fellow ! he has my heart 
 felt pity. Now for the cause of his sorrows?" 
 
 Thus conjured, Carleton rapidly and vividly por 
 trayed the maze of difficulty in which he had be 
 come entangled, bringing forward in sharp relief the 
 salient points which he considered most likely to 
 produce an effect upon his fair listener. Never was 
 eloquent raconteur rewarded with more flattering 
 attention. Impenetrably serene and still, she heard 
 him through from beginning to end. He could not 
 see her face distinctly, but the gentle heaving of 
 her bosom betrayed no symptom of quickened pul- 
 saton, and no unguarded gesture gave evidence of 
 unusual excitement. 
 
 "Strange!" she said musingly, when he was done 
 speaking, with a depth of feeling she had not 
 before evinced. " He never gaid a word to his 
 nephew of his correspondence with Mr. Buchanan." 
 
 "So I conceived at first," said Carleton, adapting 
 his language to her altered mood; "but, on after 
 thought, his silence does not appear to me in the 
 least degree surprising. He was only solicitous to 
 learn whether his former letter had reached its de.i- 
 tination. AVarnecl of his approaching end, it may be
 
 180 WOODBOUKNE. 
 
 of the suddenness of the summons Avhich awaited 
 him, he sought to divert his mind wholly from 
 worldly distractions, and to draw the curtain of 
 oblivion on the painful past. His few remaining 
 years were spent in preparing for the eternal scene; 
 death was the familiar companion of his daily 
 walks the theme of his constant meditations. He 
 lived as if the present moment might be the last 
 of earth; and, although he was apparently free from 
 mental disquietude, his soul was all the time pay 
 ing cruel rack-rent for its battered tenement, and 
 joyfully when the final notice came 
 
 'Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day, 
 Nor cast one longing, lingering look behind.'" 
 
 The melting pathos Avith which he rendered his 
 brief tribute to the memory of her afflicted cousin 
 went straight to her heart and dissipated every 
 trace of cold reserve. Her manner was unaffectedly 
 cordial and frank as she emerged from the cur 
 tained shadow and turned to him in the full-orbed 
 radiance of her glorious beauty, "enough to make 
 a world to doat." 
 
 " Many thanks, Mr. Carleton," she said, " for 
 your entertaining story. It has interested me more 
 than I have words to express. I sincerely wish you 
 may be successful in your further researches. By 
 all means I advise you to speak with Mr. Conrad. 
 But, see the dance is over, and Lucy has promised 
 to .sing for us in the interlude." 
 
 So, after all, the diplomatist took nothing for 
 his pains, though he was more than ever convinced 
 that his fair listener was not a whit the wiser for 
 his revelations.
 
 WOODBOURXE. 181 
 
 " Who says a woman cannot keep a secret ? " he 
 mentally ejaculated. '-Dissemblers by instinct, dis- 
 guisers by habit, deceivers by intuition, they are 
 masked batteries of deceitful wiles and delusive 
 temptations; 'tis theirs to wheedle and cajole, to 
 lurk in ambush for unwary man, and disarming 
 his suspicions by flattery and blandishments, to 
 shear him of his strength and deliver him over 
 bound with wythes to his adversary. Delilahs all! 
 Bah! what gammon! Man, the tyrant and despot 
 of the sex, is alone responsible for the cajoleries, 
 deceits and crafty recourses of woman. These are 
 their only weapons of warfare, and whether their 
 conduct be censurable or not, depends on the end 
 to be gained." 
 
 With these incoherent and contradictory ideas 
 chasing each othor through his discomfited brain, 
 he bowed his acknowledgments of her appreciative 
 spsech with graceful courtesy, and, resigning their 
 seats to the tired dancers, they mingled with the 
 joyous throng who were flocking around the sweet 
 songstress already seated at the harpischord. She 
 was turning over the leaves of a large new music 
 book Mr. Copland's present as the truants ap 
 proached. 
 
 "Come, Mary," she said, "choose a song for me." 
 
 But her father's cheery voice anticipated Mary's 
 selection ; the whist party had adjourned to hear 
 her sing " Rax ms ths beuk, bairn. There is a 
 sang for you. I'se warrant, nane o' them -has 
 heard it." 
 
 The enchantress obeyed his command, and pres 
 ently the touching strains of "Auld Hobin Gray''
 
 182 WOODBOUHXE. 
 
 fell upon the entranced ears of the company in a 
 shower of melodious tears. Everybody was in ecsta- 
 cies. Even the flinty-hearted "Exciseman," between 
 the music and the punch-bowl, grew rapturously 
 lachrymose, and, forgetting his so-called official 
 dignity, kissed the fair performer on both her 
 blushing cheeks. Other songs were called for in 
 quick succession, and were rendered in a way that, 
 to our taste, was the perfection of music married 
 to immortal verse. 
 
 At length the obliging Lucy had to give over 
 from sheer exhaustion of fatigue, and, be it recorded 
 for an example worthy of imitation on like occa 
 sions, no importunity could prevail with one of the 
 other less gifted daughters of song there assem 
 bled to break the dulcet charm she had woven. 
 AYe cannot stay to dwell on each delightful feature 
 of this festive scene. A sterner task imperatively 
 claims our attention. In diversions such as we 
 feebly described, interlarded with a profusion of 
 creature comforts, the tide of enjoyment flowed on 
 in an unbroken stream to a late hour of the night. 
 Instead of his national Tullocliyorum, Mr. Graeme 
 was well content to let young folks and old frisk 
 through the intricacies of the Virginia reel, and 
 when the merry guests took their leave, Lucy had 
 abundant cause for unalloyed satisfaction. Mr. Wad- 
 dell might come now and welcome. 
 
 "Dick," said Carleton, with a sleepy yawn, as 
 they Avere riding slowly home, " Mary Littleton is, 
 as you say, a beautiful enigma. I have lost the 
 wager." 
 
 " I am glad of it," was the consoling reply, and 
 the matter was dropped.
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 T was well nigh day-break when the two 
 friends arrived home from the party at 
 Bonhill. Harry did not wait to be in 
 vited, but went straight to bed, and was 
 soon lost to the music of the cock's shrill clarion 
 and echoing horn. Not so Mr. Richard Alloway; 
 he had other business on his hands. It was his 
 rule not to permit the pursuit of pleasure at any 
 time to interfere with the regular routine of his 
 domestic administration. Social indulgences were 
 never by him carried to an excess which unfitted 
 him. for the performance of his daily avocations 
 with scrupulous exactitude. So, donning his worky- 
 day clothes, he called up the servant, who was 
 sleeping by the fire in the hall, ordered a fresh 
 horse, and sallied forth on his accustomed round. 
 In addition to the ordinary tasks, there was a 
 stalled ox to be slain that morning, an operation 
 which he always superintended in proper person. 
 The first faint streaks of the dawn were glim 
 mering in the east, the air was crisp and frosty, 
 and a soft, feathery mist hovered above the earth, 
 
 (18C)
 
 181 WOODBOUKNE. 
 
 making the dark wood appear like an enchanted 
 island in the midst of a vapory sea. 
 
 "Silent was then the forest bound, 
 Save the red breast's note and the rustling sound 
 Of frost-nipped leaves that are dropping around, 
 Or the deep-mouthed cry of the distant hound 
 That opens on his game." 
 
 "What a morning for a fox-hunt, was Alloway's 
 first thought; his next was for a ride, and turning 
 into the road which led through the wood, he gave 
 the rein to his horse, and went dashing along at 
 a pace which soon stirred the sluggish blood into 
 a warm glow. As he came in sight of the main 
 highway, the dim outline of a human form whisked 
 rapidly across the open space in front of him. He 
 saw it only for a second; but there could be no 
 mistaking that burly frame and rolling gait. 
 
 "Ship ahoy!" shouted Dick, in a voice which 
 made the leaves rustle and quiver on the trees. 
 
 The figure halted suddenly, and was heard pant 
 ing and blowing like a porpoise. 
 
 "Hilloa, ye bloody ould buccaneer, where the 
 divil are ye cruising to this time o' the morning?' 7 
 was Mr. Alloway's best essay at an Irish saluta 
 tion, as he rode up to the old sailor. 
 
 "Och, Misther Dick," replied Mike, slowly re 
 gaining his presence of mind; "and its only your 
 self to be sure. Bad cess I mane top o' the 
 mornin' and the blessin' o' St. Patrick to your 
 honor; but you've knocked me down on my bame 
 ends intirely." 
 
 ''Hulled you at the first shot, and made you
 
 WOODBOUHNE. 185 
 
 round to in a hurry; rather ticklish for a crazy 
 old ship under a full press of sail, eh? Well, you 
 are my prize, Mike, and I shall see you safe into 
 port. You are the very man I was looking for. 
 So, vast heave ; put your helm up or down, any 
 way you please, so you steer a bee-line for Wood 
 bourne house." 
 
 While Dick was rattling on in this comical vein, 
 the nmquihile Jack-tar Avas holding fast to both 
 his sides and struggling hard to recover breath 
 sufficient to give utterance to the contending emo 
 tions which convulsed his sturdy form and im 
 parted to his countenance a fearful expression, 
 somewhat rueful and exceeding wroth. On the 
 ground at his feet lay a rusty old Brown Bess of 
 a musket, which he eyed vengeful ly. Dick had not 
 observed him closely before, owing to the dimness 
 of the light. 
 
 " Och, the murtherin', thievin' vaggabins, Misther 
 Dick," he at length blurted out, and paused for a 
 fresh start. 
 
 "Who, Mike? Why, what on earth is the matter 
 with you?" asked Dick, eagerly; he had, never seen, 
 the old sailor in such a passion before. 
 
 "Matther wid me? Ye may well ask that; an' 
 sure wouldn't it be matther enough if the moradin' 
 villains had run away with your honor's own beau-< 
 tifnl boat ? By the bones uv my ancestors, it ig 
 myself that will be afther purshuin' the dirty 
 blackguards to the ind o' the world, an' my name 
 is not Michael Burke." 
 
 " Not afoot and overland, Mike ? " said Dick, re 
 pressing an inclination to laugh, " Come, tell me 
 
 1C*
 
 186 WOODBOURNE. 
 
 what has happened to put you in such a terrible 
 stew." 
 
 Thus entreated, Mike, with many ejaculations of 
 rage and a free use of the choicest epithets his 
 vocabulary of nautical maledictions afforded, related 
 his pitiful story. He could not tell precisely what 
 was the hour, but it was after midnight last gone, 
 that he was awaked by the furious barking of his 
 faithful house-dog, which told as plainly as if the 
 animal had spoken the words that there were 
 thieves about. Jumping out of bed, he ran to the 
 window in time to see a party of strange men 
 making off with his boat, which was kept moored 
 In a small cove at the foot of the garden. To 
 snatch up his gun and rush to the door, all un 
 mindful of the plight he was in, was the work of 
 an instant; but, before he could raise the latch, 
 his wife awoke in a great fright, and, with a loud 
 screech, at one bound precipitated herself upon him 
 and immediately went into violent hysterics. She 
 had taken due advantage of Mike's helpless condi 
 tion on retiring for the night to give him a piece 
 of her mind, and now she was convinced her long- 
 suffering spouse was meditating summary revenge ; 
 so she clung to him like grim death, Aveeping and 
 praying, and howling and begging for mercy all in 
 a breath. It was a fortunate diversion for the 
 marauders ; as by the time Mike had succeeded in 
 assuring "swate Misthress Murchuson " that she 
 was not the object of his murderous thoughts, and 
 to make her understand what was the real cause 
 of alarm, the boat had cleared the mouth of the 
 cove and was safe from pursuit. But Mike had
 
 WOODBOUKNTE. 187 
 
 not been a bold sea-rover for nothing. He watched 
 the "bloody pirates" until they were out of sight, 
 and the water being as smooth as glass and the 
 stars shining brightly, he had no trouble in seeing 
 them, when they had gotten an offing, lay their 
 course for the mouth of the Potomac river. His 
 plan was conceived and put in execution with a 
 celerity and vigor which would have reflected honor 
 on the bold and enterprising commander of the 
 Endeavor himself. Shouldering his trusty musket, 
 and giving Mrs. Murchuson a wide berth for fear 
 she might offer to interpose an obstacle to his 
 design, he scudded away under full sail for the 
 neighboring port of entry, where he was sure to 
 find the assistance he needed in carrying his 
 rapidly concocted plan into effect. 
 
 "You can count on me for help, heart and hand, 
 old friend," exclaimed Alloway, when the sailor had 
 finished his tale. " Hurry forward and have every 
 thing in readiness ; I will join you without delay," 
 and, speeding Mike on his way, he hastened home 
 ward. 
 
 At the lawn gate he met James, the butler, who 
 v,-a3 looking for him with a note, which had just 
 that moment been brought by a servant from Clif 
 ton. The bearer said his orders were to take it as 
 quickly as possible to Mr. Alloway, and not to 
 tarry for an answer. Dick glanced at the super 
 scription; it was from Mary Littleton. With an 
 explanation of surprise he hastily opened the letter, 
 and read the following alarming summons: '
 
 188 AVOODBOURXE. 
 
 "DEAR COUSIN RICHARD : 
 
 "Please come to me as speedily as you can. 
 Something dreadful has happened; I know not what. 
 Don't delay; every moment is as precious as life. 
 
 " Your distressed cousin, 
 
 "MARY LITTLETON/' 
 
 " Good heavens ! " thought Alloway, what can be to 
 pay at Clifton?" But there was no time for specu 
 lation. His gallantry alone would have prompted 
 immediate obedience to his cousin's command; but, 
 from his knowledge of her firm and courageous 
 temper, he was forced to conclude that this bewil 
 dering missive was far from being the inspiration 
 of the ordinary pangs and fears which wars and 
 women are said to have in common. 
 
 "James," said he to the servant, "go tell your 
 Uncle William he need not wait for me, and see 
 that Mr. Carleton is not disturbed until I get 
 back. Stay there is another thing I was near for 
 getting. Get a horse, and ride as fast as you can 
 on the road to Yeocomico until you overtake Mr. 
 Burke. Tell him not to stop for me; he'll under 
 stand. That's all I have to say," he added, seeing 
 the man was hesitating for further orders, and 
 plunging into a nigh path through the wood he 
 proceeded to obey Miss Littleton's mandate at the 
 top of his horse's speed. 
 
 The excitement of a night's frolicking is not con 
 ducive of sound slumber. Such was Carleton's ex 
 perience when ho found himself Avide awake after
 
 WOODBOURNE. 189 
 
 having slept an hour or two, little refreshed and 
 the prey of nervous restlessness. His senses were 
 not yet recovered from the giddy whirl of intoxi 
 cation, and the gay and merry scenes he had just 
 quitted danced before his eyes in a wild phantas 
 magoria of revelry. One object only was clearly 
 discernible in the ever-shifting maze of fancy, a 
 picture never to be erased from memory which 
 "seen became a part of sight'' that of the daz 
 zling vision of womanly perfection, the queenly 
 creature who had sat and listened so intently to 
 his strange story, her glorious eyes shining like 
 stars in the dusky twilight sky, and her head 
 resting on one fair hand which pressed back the 
 luxuriant mass of hair she suffered with careless 
 art to float in rich undulations over her neck and 
 shoulders. Beyond the lingering sense of sore 
 chagrin at the failure of his deep-laid scheme to 
 surprise her heart's secret, he did not try to 
 analyze the sensations, very near akin to love, with 
 which she had inspired him. He was convinced by 
 that one interview that the interesting stranger was 
 master of the situation, and he was not the man 
 "to build a fair house on another man's ground.'' 
 Finding it utterly vain trying lo woo the drowsy 
 god back again, he arose, dressed in haste, and de 
 scended to the hall. Seeing nobody stirring about 
 the house, he concluded his host was still a-bed, 
 and that the best thing he could do to while 
 away the time until Alloway made his appearance, 
 was to take another leisurely survey of that charm 
 ing pleasure ground the library. This time it is 
 the books which attract his particular regard. Of
 
 190 WOODBOURN'E. 
 
 these there are a great variety principally standard 
 Avorks in every department of letters, and many of 
 them exceedingly rare and curious specimens. Mr. 
 John Austin was something of a bibliophile, and, 
 although he did not exactly regard everything as 
 fish which came to his net, he was far from in 
 dulging the "hide-bound humor" of a severely 
 censorious judgment in gathering his supplies of 
 mental pabulum. Evidently he thought, with his 
 favorite author, that he could not more safely and 
 with less danger scout into the regions of sin and 
 falsity than by reading all manner of disquisitions, 
 and hearing all manner of reason. The valuable 
 collection was mainly the result of his liberal dis 
 position and untiring industry, but his son had en 
 riched it by the addition of the most recent Eng 
 lish and French publications. 
 
 What were Carleton's sensations as he gazed wist 
 fully at this rich mine of treasured lore ? While 
 at College he had frequently been heard to declare 
 that it was the darling object of his ambition to 
 become a distinguished scholar to erect an en 
 during monument of his fame in that congenial 
 field of intellectual enterprise. But another career 
 was marked out for him by the hand of over 
 ruling destiny. From blissful academic dreams, he 
 has been rudely awakened by the rush and roar of 
 angry, surging waters. In the vortex of a mighty 
 revolution he must plunge, and, Percy-like, drag up 
 drown'd honor by the locks. Young as he was, he 
 was well fitted to bear an active and shining part 
 in the stirring events of the period. The faculties 
 of some men are developed Avith amazing precocity.
 
 WOODBOUE^E. 191 
 
 At an early age, before they have reached the arbi 
 trary limit of parental pupilage, their matchless 
 powers seem to have attained the fullest stature, 
 and they need only the spur of opportunity to call 
 them into vigorous play. Experience is, indeed, in 
 dispensable to the complete fruition of genius; it 
 corrects the judgment, informs the understanding, 
 enlarges the heart, and chastens the spirit, incul 
 cating prudence and enforcing the necessity of vig 
 ilant self-control. But while it points out the true 
 mark and gives steadiness to the aim, it adds 
 nothing to the strength of the arm that bends the 
 springing bow. That is the jealous boon of the 
 Almighty Giver bestowed for great purposes on the 
 chosen instruments of providential design. To this 
 favored class, the eagles of their kind, belonged 
 Henry Carleton. To a joyous and sanguine tem 
 perament, and a ready and sparkling wit, he united 
 a judgment sagacious, ripe and discerning beyond 
 his years, a daring and determined spirit, and a 
 soul which glowed with the vestal fire of sincerely 
 patriotic devotion. With such qualities, it is no 
 wonder that in after years he won .the intimate 
 confidence and friendship of the most severely just 
 judge of the motives and conduct of his fellows 
 "the man who was first in war, first in peace, 
 and first in the hearts of his countrymen." It is 
 true, lie does not appear to be directly involved 
 with the train of circumstances which form the 
 ground work of the present narrative; yet we have 
 thought proper to accord him a passing tribute, 
 and to express the hope that his appearance in 
 ever so subordinate r, part on our mimic stage may
 
 192 WOODBOURNE. 
 
 afford some foreshadowing of the character he dis 
 played in real action. 
 
 On this occasion our cavalier seems to be greatly 
 puzzled to find such light diversion as accords with 
 the excited frame of his mind. At length he 
 selects at random a volume of the handsome new 
 edition of Pope, which is a portion of Mr. Richard 
 Austin's latest contributions to the stock of mis 
 cellaneous literature. It is all correspondence. There 
 is a folded page on which a passage has been 
 marked with a pencil. He reads it aloud: "Great 
 God! what an incongruous animal man is! How 
 unsettled in his best part, his soul, and how change 
 able and variable in his frame of body; the con 
 stancy of the one shook by every notion, the tem 
 perament of the other affected by every blast of 
 wind. What is he altogether but one inconsistency ? 
 Sickness and pain are the lot of one-half of him; 
 doubt and fear the portion of the other. What a 
 bustle we make about passing our time, when all 
 our span is but a point. What aims and ambi 
 tions are crowded in this little instant of tmr life 
 which is rounded Avith a sleep. Our whole extent 
 of being is no more in the eye of Him who gave 
 it than a scarce perceptible moment of duration. 
 Those animals whose circle of being is limited by 
 three or four hours, as the naturalists tell us, arc 
 yet as long-lived and possess as wide a scene of 
 action as man, if we consider him with a view to 
 all space and all eternity. Who knows what plots, 
 what achievements a mite may perform in his king 
 dom of a grain of dust within his life of some 
 minutes, and of how much less consideration than
 
 WOODBOU11XE. 193 
 
 this is the life of man in the sight of God, who 
 is from ever and forever! Who that thinks in this 
 train but must see the world and its contemptible 
 grandeurs lessen before him at every thought. "Tis 
 enough to make our brains stupefied in a poize 
 of inaction, void of all desires, of all delights, of 
 all friendships." 
 
 Carleton mused: "'TVere a twinge indeed, thought 
 he, could extort such a lugubrious note as this 
 from the sweet swan of Twickenham. lie must 
 have been woefully haunted with blue-devils. Could 
 it be imagined that the maudlin creature who vented 
 this nauseating rheum of splenetic humor was the 
 same author who wrote the "Messiah" and the 
 "Essay on Man?'' A pitiable world it would be 
 if everybody in it moralized in so desponding and 
 distempered a train. It is a blessed thing that 
 man is an incongruous animal many sided, many 
 handed, and many minded; if he were not, what a 
 humdrum affair would be the epic of human life? 
 For all the snarling of mangy cynics, he is a most 
 marvellous piece of mechanism, well deserving the 
 eulogy of the divinest of bards "noble in reason, 
 infinite in faculties, in form and moving, how ex 
 press and admirable, in action how like an angel, 
 in apprehension how like a god!" Such is the 
 light in which he should be taught to regard him 
 self, and without the just pride which is the mani 
 festation of the Divinity which stirs within him, 
 he would be more despicable than the tiniest midge 
 that disports its brief hour in the sunbeam." 
 
 "It is to be hoped," he continued, speaking 
 aloud, "that Mr. Richard Austin was not prevailed 
 
 17
 
 194 WOODBOUKXE. 
 
 upon to swallow such empirical stuff as an anti 
 dote for the bane of a miserable life. Dick's a 
 happy fellow; how I envy him his knack of taking 
 the world so easy. Had this peripatetic personage 
 been my uncle, I would not have had a day's 
 peace of mind until I had fully realized the folly 
 of that wisdom which is to be had by prying into 
 forbidden secrets. Call it what you will, childish 
 superstition, idle curiosity but if this old house 
 belonged to me, it should be made to give up its 
 secret, or else I would blow it up with gun 
 powder." 
 
 " Playing Guy Fawkes, eh ? " cried a voice behind 
 him.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 T was Alloway who had come hurriedly 
 into the room unperceived. Carleton 
 started at the sadden apparition. " Why, 
 Dick," he exclaimed, " I thought you were 
 all this time fast asleep, and here you are looking 
 as if you had been riding a steeple-chase, and you 
 are as solemn as an owl and as mysterious as the 
 devil. Hang it all! Don't stand there gaping like 
 a moon-calf in a dumb show, but out with it at 
 once. "What in the world have you been doing?" 
 
 "In a moment, Harry." He went out, gave an 
 order to the servant and returned. "Now," said 
 he, "sit down and let me have your undivided 
 attention. It is a real mystery this time; I sin 
 cerely trust it may not lead to a tragical dis 
 closure." 
 
 " He is evidently in earnest," thought Carleton, 
 seating himself in the nearest chair, arrectis auribus. 
 
 "Eead that," said Dick, giving him Miss Little 
 ton's note, by way of dramatic prologue. 
 
 On perusing it the last shade of incredulity van 
 ished from his brow; he listened eagerly. Briefly 
 
 (195)
 
 19G WOODBOUKXE. 
 
 recounting the occurrences we Lave narrated. Allo- 
 way went on to say: "When I arrived at Clifton 
 I found my cousin waiting for me in the parlor. 
 She was very pale, but perfectly composed and 
 self-possessed. It is surprising what wonderful com 
 mand over their feelings some women have. After 
 thanking me in one earnest word for my prompt 
 ness, she at once made known the reason of her 
 importunate message. Colonel Littleton and herself 
 were the last of the company to leave Bonhill, sho 
 having lingered to speak with Mrs. Graeme. On 
 reaching home, she had barely gone to her room 
 before she heard the furious galloping of a horse, 
 and, as it stopped in front of the door, a voice, 
 which she instantly recognized as Mr. Thompson's, 
 bawled out: 'Littleton, Littleton!' Her father had 
 not quitted the hall, and going quickly to the 
 door exclaimed, as he opened it and caught sight 
 of the collector, 'My God, neighbor, what is the 
 matter with you?' Alarmed, she ran to the win 
 dow and looked out. There sat old Jake on his 
 horse, a figure to look upon. He was in a state of 
 excitement bordering on phrensy; his features were 
 convulsed with rage, and he was talking and ges 
 ticulating at a fearful rate. She could not make 
 out what he was Baying, farther than that some 
 thing was the matter with Archie, and now and 
 then she was convinced that she caught an un 
 complimentary allusion to her father's guest. Pres 
 ently, he wheeled his horse around, and, throwing a 
 parting word over his shoulder, went flying down 
 the avenue with break-neck speed. Hurrying down 
 stairs, she met her father. She had never seen him 
 more agitated and distressed. ' This is a terribly
 
 "WOODBOTJRNE. 19? 
 
 bad business, my daughter,' he said. 'Thompson's 
 little boy has been spirited away carried off in the 
 night; two of his hands are reported to be miss 
 ing, and he himself is as mad as a March hare, 
 for he swears that Mr. Conrad is the cause of it 
 all.' Well nigh fainting with apprehension and 
 alarm any other woman would have swooned away 
 on the spot she besought him to tell her .how it 
 happened. He replied that he could not get a clear 
 or definite account from the Collector, he raved so 
 incoherently; but, at her earnest entreaty, he very 
 promptly ordered his horse and set out in pursuit 
 of his demented neighbor. When he was gone, her 
 fears increased, and, in her extremity, she sent for 
 me. You remember that fellow we saw yesterday 
 on the river in a skiff?" 
 
 Carleton. "The sailor? Yes, and the boy also." 
 
 Alloway. "The villain was following Archie, and 
 if any harm has befallen the poor lad he is prob 
 ably the author of it." Hero he related the ad 
 venture of the oak, with which the reader is familiar, 
 
 Carleton. "No doubt the rascal had a hand in 
 it very likely the principal; but he must have 
 had help in such a daring undertaking." 
 
 Dick." Precisely what the Collector said, only he 
 accuses Mr. Conrad of being the prime mover in 
 the scheme of villainy, and that was the greatest 
 source of trouble to my fair cousin, as much aa 
 she felt on Archie's account. ' Nothing,' said she, 
 'could be more absolutely false, not to say prepos- 
 perous.' I do not know what possessed me, but I 
 started to say something about the suspected party 
 being a stranger, and immediately wished the words 
 
 17*
 
 198 TVOODBOURNE. 
 
 Lad choked me. 'Stay,' she cried and you should 
 have seen how the blood rushed into her face and 
 then flowed back upon her heart, leaving her as 
 white as an alabaster figure, while her eyes sparkled 
 and flashed like two great diamonds 'I know what 
 it is you would say. Stranger let him be; but, for 
 the sake of your own dear honor, breathe not a 
 syllable of the unjust suspicion which your looks 
 imply. It is no time for explanations. Still as I 
 have invited this conference in a matter of the 
 most delicate and distressing nature, you have a 
 right to expect my entire confidence shall be given 
 you. In due time you will be fully gratified. For 
 the present it is enough for you to know that he 
 in whose behalf I bespeak your interest is my 
 affianced husband, the peer of the best gentleman 
 in the land.' Jupiter, how splendidly she said that, 
 and how thoroughbred she looked!" 
 
 Seeing Carleton smile at this last characteristic 
 simile, he quickly continued, " It was impossible to 
 gainsay this candid declaration. The starch was 
 completely taken out of me. I felt an indescribable 
 thrill of sympathy and admiration, and hastened to 
 assure my lovely cousin that my poor service was 
 entirely at her command. And had she ordered me 
 to bring her the head of the Grand Turk, I should 
 have started, I verily believe, post-haste for Con 
 stantinople on horseback." 
 
 " O Dea c:rte ! What a wonderful metamorphosis 
 the heartless coquette has undergone ! " Carleton 
 could not resist the temptation of saying. 
 
 "I deserve your ill-timed sarcasm, Harry," said 
 the penitent Richard, "but I beg yon will not again 
 interrupt me. As I was saying, I asked her how I
 
 WOODBOURXE. 199 
 
 could best aid her in the matter. She replied that 
 Mr. Conrad was now at Yeocomico, whither he 
 went yesterday afternoon on business. He was ex 
 pected back some time during the morning. Of 
 this her father knew nothing. She wished that I 
 would seek him as speedily as possible, and apprise 
 him of what has happened before that hot-headed 
 old blunderbuss of a tory brings the hue and cry 
 of the country about his ears a result which would 
 exasperate the high-spirited gentleman .beyond en 
 durance, besides being to her mortifying in the 
 extreme. This I readily undertook to do, and seeing 
 that she had glanced repeatedly at the clock and 
 noted every swing of the pendulum, 'one word 
 more,' said I; 'may I take Mr. Carleton with 
 ine?' 'As you please,' said she; and off I went 
 like a shot, and here I am, and breakfast is ready, 
 and our horses are at the door. You see, Harry," 
 added Dick, persuasively, ""it is a ticklish piece of 
 business, and I shall need your tact to help me 
 through with it." 
 
 "Anything to oblige yon, Dick," said Carleton; 
 "but I must confess that the salt has lost its 
 savor. Miss Littleton's affianced husband! I'm 
 sped; "tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide' 
 say, Dick, why not let the old tory and the French 
 man fight it out a-la-mort?" 
 
 "Come, Harry," replied his host with dignity; 
 "it is no time for pleasantry. I feel acutely for 
 Mr. Thompson, and do earnestly hope that nothing 
 evil has happened to poor little Archie." 
 
 "I stand reproved, Dickon," protested Carleton, 
 " so, en avant I ''
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 HE morning meal hurriedly partaken, Allo- 
 way and Carleton mounted their fleet 
 steeds, and in nowhile gained the sum 
 mit of the high hill within a mile of 
 the port of entry, from which was a full view of 
 the broad Potomac. The first object which greeted 
 their sight on its placid bosom was the gallant 
 bark Katrine, looming upon the horizon like some 
 " huge bird of heavenly plumage fair," every stitch 
 of her canvas being flung out to catch the light 
 breeze. At this stage, the intersection of two roads, 
 they were joined by another horseman, who came 
 thundering along the highway known as the 
 "Neck" road, bloody with spurring, fiery-red with 
 speed. 
 
 "Jupiter!" exclaimed Alloway, "if it is not the 
 Collector." 
 
 It was indeed Mr. Jacob Thompson, still in a 
 towering rage and looking the incarnation of ven 
 geance and destruction. His clothes, which had not 
 been changed since the party, were scarcely dis 
 tinguishable in pattern for the mud with which 
 
 (2.C)
 
 WOODBOUBXE. 201 
 
 he was covered from head to foot; his gaunt and 
 burly form trembled with passion, and he shook 
 his clenched hand at the ship, shouting as he did 
 so with the cry of a baffled tiger: 
 
 ''Gone, by God! the infernal black pirate." 
 
 'For Heaven's sake, Mr. Thompson," cried the 
 friends in a breath, "what is the meaning of this 
 pother?" 
 
 " 0, you marauding scoundrel ! " exclaimed the 
 irate old gentleman, taking no notice of the ques 
 tion ; " I'll be even with you yet I'll live to see 
 you hanging like a dog at the yard-arm of your 
 own vessel." 
 
 "Who is it?" inquired Dick, eagerly; "surely 
 not Captain Dent?" 
 
 "It is Dent, sir," roared the Collector, as if he 
 defied Dick to deny it ; " Dent, the deceitful, pala 
 vering, kidnapping villain." 
 
 Dick. "Kidnapping! Have they carried Archie 
 off in the vessel?" 
 
 Collector. "Archie is gone, sir; and, what is more, 
 two of my best hands." 
 
 "Dnnmore's proclamation," chimed in the mis 
 chievous Carleton, by way of adding fuel to the 
 flame of the old gentleman's wrath. 
 
 "D n Dunmore!" he exclaimed; "the black 
 hearted, white-livered poltroon. He ran away at the 
 first gun, and left the like of me to the tender 
 mercies of rebels, thieves and murderers. He will 
 get his deserts when the King hears of these out 
 rages. Haven't you brought the country to a pretty 
 pass among you ? No law, no officers, no any 
 thing just a d d den of savages and wild beasts.
 
 202 WOODBOURXE. 
 
 You go and kick up a row because you want to 
 live without paying your taxes to the government 
 you belong to; and this man they call a governor 
 gets scared and sneaks off, and then calls upon the 
 negroes to help him. A pretty way to put down 
 one rebellion by raising a worse; and he never once 
 asks leave of their owners whether they be loyal 
 men or not. He shall be impeached as sure as 
 there is a Parliament sitting in London." 
 
 Seeing that the old gentleman was so beside him 
 self with anger that nothing was to be gotten from 
 him but an incoherent tirade of abuse of everybody 
 and everything, Alloway thought to divert the tide 
 of his wrath by saying that Carleton and he were 
 out in search of Mr. Conrad. It was the signal of 
 another explosion. 
 
 "Looking for him, are you? Then you may as 
 Avell turn round and go back home. You'll not 
 see the rascal again in a hurry, I'll be bound. I 
 knew him for a d d French spy as soon as I set 
 eyes 011 him; I said as much to Littleton. Eh! 
 Why, there he is now." 
 
 It was not Conrad as the friends naturally sur 
 mised, but Colonel Littleton, approaching them from 
 the direction of Yeocomico. As he rode up his 
 greeting was constrained and embarrassed, and 
 although he tried hard to master his emotion, per 
 plexity and chagrin were plainly visible in his face. 
 
 "You are early abroad after the frolic last night, 
 young gentlemen," said he to Alloway and Carle- 
 ton, and then, as the former was about to reply, 
 turning quickly to Mr. Thompson, he continued, 
 "Come, neighbor, it's no use tarrying here; I'll 
 see you home."
 
 WOODBOURXE. 203 
 
 The Collector gave a vengeful glance at the 
 Katrine. She had by this time rounded Smith's 
 Point, and was standing down the bay. Then, 
 without a word, he accepted Colonel Littleton's 
 proposal, and they rode away together. Recovering 
 from his surprise, Alloway called to Colonel Little 
 ton to inquire whether he had seen or heard aught 
 of Mr. Conrad in his ride. 
 
 " He's gone ! " replied the 'Squire, sharply and 
 without turning his head. 
 
 The young cavaliers sut regarding each other in 
 blank astonishment. 
 
 "Well, Harry,", said Dick, drawing in a deep 
 breath, and emitting it in a most musical, most 
 melancholy whistle, "what's to be done now?" 
 
 Even the quick-witted Carleton was for once 
 dumbfounded. "Would it were bed-time and all 
 w r ere well," he Avas in the act of saying, when he 
 was interrupted by a hoarse voice calling: "0, Mr. 
 Richard, I certainly am glad to see you," and at 
 the same moment an old man, dressed like a fisher 
 man, shambled out of a thicket near the road and 
 stood before them. He stuck the paddle, which 
 he carried on his shoulder, in the ground, and 
 leant on it with both hands. 
 
 "Good morning, Mr. Bragg,'' said Dick; "you 
 seem tired." 
 
 "An' well I mought be," replied the fisherman ; 
 "I have walked every blessed step of the way from 
 my house, as hard as I could put foot to the 
 ground, with this here letter for Mr. Graum, which 
 it was sent to him by a gentleman on board of 
 the vessel, and he told me to be sure he got it
 
 204 WOODBOURXE. 
 
 betimes this morning. Xow, Mr. Richard, if you 
 be going soon ," 
 
 "I can save you the rest of the journey? Cer 
 tainly," replied Alloway, taking the letter from the 
 old man's hand; "so you saw the Katrine off?" 
 
 Bragg. "Yes, sir; I was 'long side of her when 
 she weighed anchor. You see, the Captain wanted 
 me to bring him some oysters." 
 
 Dick. "Had she many passengers?" 
 
 Bragg. " I can't speak for certain about that. 
 I didn't see nobody but the Scotch gentleman as 
 give me the letter. There was two niggers in a 
 big boat beggin' and entreatin' of the Captain in 
 the pitifullest manner to take 'em on board; but 
 he told 'em to go back home and give his re- 
 specks to their master and tell him he wasn't in 
 the nigger kidnappin' business at this pertickler 
 time. While they was a chaffin, I seen another big 
 boat come out of the creek. Soon as ever them 
 darkies got sight of her they 'peared to know egg- 
 zactly what was to pay, for they let go the painter 
 and shot for shore 'way up the river. Then come 
 the chase, " 
 
 "Thank you, Mr. Bragg, that's all I wish to 
 know," said Dick, preparing to go. 
 
 "Hold on one second, Mr. Richard," said the 
 fisherman; "what is the matter with Mr. Thomp 
 son ? He come straining by me like he wan't 
 caring if he killed his horse or broke his own 
 neck." 
 
 "They were his negroes who were running away," 
 replied Alloway, and commending the loquacious 
 fisherman to a more appreciative audience, he and
 
 WOODBOURXE. 205 
 
 Carleton were oif again on the wings of the wind. 
 They separated at the road leading to "Woodbourne, 
 Alloway proceeding directly to Bonhill. 
 
 The day was now far spent; Mr. Graeme was 
 not long returned from his usual ride. Discarding 
 ceremony, the young man rushed into his presence 
 and, thrusting the letter into his hand, exclaimed: 
 "For Heaven's sake, Mr. Graeme, tell me quickly 
 what news is in it." 
 
 The good gentleman stared at his excited neigh 
 bor us if he thought he had surely "gane gyte;" but 
 he was so completely knocked off his balance as to 
 be incapable of resenting the indecorous proceeding. 
 Hastily breaking the seal, he ran his eye over the 
 letter in search of the explanation of this un 
 gracious intrusion on his privacy. Suddenly his 
 manner changed; he became fearfully agitated, and 
 his countenance betrayed a variety of indescribable 
 emotions. Recovering his habitual self-control by a 
 strong effort, he slowly and attentively reperused 
 the letter, and, having done so, remained some 
 minutes in deep thought. Then he rose from his 
 chair, and, turning to Alloway, said in a calm and 
 decided tone: "Bide here a time, Eichard, lad; 
 aiblins ye might wish to speak a word wi' Lucy; 
 but ye maunna be ganging hame before my return 
 frae Clifton ; " and before his visitor could utter a 
 word in reply, he snatched up his hat and cane 
 and left the room. In the hall he met his daughter, 
 to whom he communicated something in a low, 
 earnest tone, and ere another hour elapses, he is 
 seen in close conference with Mary Littleton and 
 her father, 
 is
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 HOROUGHLY worn down by the day's 
 rough work, Carleton as soon as he reached 
 Woodbourne threw himself to rest on the 
 settle in the library. "Well," said he, 
 "this beats cock-fighting out of sight, as Bob Tem 
 ple would say, and fox-hunting, too, from the way 
 my limbs ache ; just enough of the flavor of vil 
 lainy to give it relish. What can that rascally 
 skipper be up to? Mary Littleton's fiancee has de 
 camped, too; the old, sorrowful story; it's a sad 
 business; yet, what's the loss of one lover to a 
 girl who has a pack of them that will come at 
 her whistle? Who knows that it may not yet be 
 my turn? Psha! I verily believe I arn getting to 
 be as big a ninny as the rest of them. Amour tu 
 perdis Troie! A deep saying that of the divine 
 Pascal; there's indeed no guessing what would have 
 happened to the human family had Madam Cleo 
 patra's nose been a little shorter. Heigh ho! This 
 is excellent sport for the piping times of peace; 
 but it is not the way to purge these English hence. 
 Shame upon the whole tribe of lusty young fel-
 
 WOODBOURXE. 207 
 
 lows, myself among the number, to be dancing 
 attendance here on a pair of black or blue eyes, or 
 else galloping over the country after hounds and 
 horn, when they should be in the trenches at 
 Boston with muskets in their hands. But Rome 
 was not built in a day; neither can a cavalry 
 company be recruited and equipped for service in 
 the twinkling of an eye. I have gained one im 
 portant point. Alloway has engaged to help me, 
 and he is a tower of strength. I have always en 
 tertained a warm regard for Dick's amiable quali 
 ties, but I had no conception before of the amount 
 of good, stern stuff that was in him. Bold, alert, 
 sharp-sighted and strong-limbed, he is a born stark 
 trooper. I wish I had a hundred just like him 
 enlisted for the war and determined to fight to the 
 bitter end." With which patriotic aspiration his 
 soliloquy ended, and another minute he was fast 
 locked in the embrace of the drowsy god. 
 
 He had been scarcely an hour asleep before he 
 was awakened by the entrance of a visitor. It was 
 the young lawyer. He, too, showed evident signs 
 of having been considerably jostled from his usual 
 placid and sedate demeanor. 
 
 "All alone, Harry?" he exclaimed, barely giving 
 Carleton time to say good morning. "Where's Allo 
 way? What's all the muss about? The whole 
 country is up in arms, but devil a soul can tell 
 what it means. Dick, they say, is in the secret; 
 where can I find him?" 
 
 Here James, who had ushered in Mr. Copland, 
 explained the cause of his master's detention at 
 Bonhill.
 
 208 WOODBOURNE. 
 
 "But he must have told }*ou everything, Harry; 
 that's the next best evidence. Tell me, now, the 
 exact truth of the matter ; I have had enough of 
 Temple's palaver." 
 
 "What I know is soon told/* replied Carleton. 
 *' It seems that this Captain Dent, with what mo 
 tive is beyond conjecture, has abducted old Mr. 
 Thompson's foster-son, and it is moreover surmised 
 by some people that a certain foreign adventurer, 
 in whom a lady acquaintance of ours is said to be 
 interested, had a hand in the nefarious transaction." 
 
 Copland. "The Frenchman? Why, Bob Temple 
 just now informed me that he and Miss Littleton 
 were engaged to be married." 
 
 Harry. "The tattling coxcomb! What does he 
 know about it?" 
 
 Copland. "Next to nothing, I a.m well satisfied, 
 and therefore I shall have to call a more reliable 
 and better informed witness. Come to the book, 
 Harry. I must have the truth, the whole truth 
 and nothing but the truth concerning that little 
 tete-a-tete last night." 
 
 Evidently Carleton was not in a humor to relish 
 his friend's bantering tone. He had suddenly lapsed 
 into gravity. "No offence, Charley," he said, "but 
 I must insist on dropping the subject ; it sounds 
 so unfeeling our jesting considering the turn 
 things have taken. What you have heard is very 
 true; they are betrothed. Dick Alloway had the 
 assurance from Miss Littleton's own lips this morn 
 ing. Why he went away on the vessel I cannot 
 divine; but of one thing I have no manner of 
 .doubt he is not implicated in the kidnapping 
 affair."
 
 WOODBOURNE. 209 
 
 Copland. "It is a pretty case, Harry, and my 
 professional acumen is greatly piqued; but since 
 you wish it, I will forego the examination for tha 
 present. Gone, eh? taken French leave! What wa.s 
 the tune we were dancing to last night? < Mai- 
 brook has gone to the wars.' A thousand pardons, 
 Harry; what was you going to say?" 
 
 Harry. "Having dismissed that disagreeable topio, 
 tell me what is the news abroad. I did not have 
 a chance to question you at the party last night." 
 
 Copland. "My intelligence is summed up in one 
 word war; they mean to lick us into terms if 
 they can. Such is the pronounced purpose of the 
 Ministry, and the body of the people applaud it. 
 During my three years' stay in London I was a 
 close observer, and read with care the real exposi 
 tors of public sentiment. The secret of Lord 
 Chatham's popularity and influence lay in the unex 
 ampled success of his war policy, conducted as it 
 was with such wonderful spirit and energy. The 
 results added immensely to the British possessions, 
 and placed the nation on the pinnacle of power 
 and greatness. The land resounded with the lo 
 Triomphe of the Great Commoner, the people's idol, 
 a very god, and what was of more importance to 
 us, the sincere friend of America, inflexibly opposed 
 to every scheme tending to subject us to unright 
 eous burthens. The jubilee over, the day for audit 
 ing arrives the remorseless piper presents his bill. 
 Lo, the budget foots up the enormous sum of 
 140,000,000 the whole of it spent by Lord Chat 
 ham in his glorious campaigns. He is naturally 
 looked to for suggesting the way to pay it; but 
 
 18*
 
 210 WOODBOl'BXE. 
 
 he is no financier; such, drudgery is beneath the 
 notice of a great statesman; he turns the business 
 over to his brother-in-law, Granville. That minister 
 tries the old-fashioned plan. New duties, imposts 
 and excises are the order of the day. The country 
 is in a ferment of indignation; the cities grow riot 
 ous, and Ciderland, especially, is ready to raise the 
 standard of open rebellion. In despair, ministers 
 resort to the colonies for help. These, they say, 
 have been the sole gainers by the war, have been 
 saved from the tender mercies of tomahawk and 
 scalping-knife by British valor; they must foot the 
 bill. The colonies flare up, and their attitude 
 creates alarm among the merchant princes of Lon 
 don, Liverpool and Bristol. Granville points to the 
 war-budget of his predecessor, and demands to know 
 where he is to get money to meet the deficit in 
 the treasury. Pitt retorts with a humorous sally, 
 but the ' Gentle Shepherd * is not so easily laughed 
 out of court. He reiterates the significant question, 
 and sober business men realize its grave importance. 
 It is plain to them that every source of legitimate 
 revenue must be tapped or the credit of the nation 
 will be irretrievably damaged. Thus the question of 
 the right to tax the colonies became the one absorb 
 ing theme of parliamentary debate and popular 
 agitation. In proportion to our earnestness in pro 
 testing against the outrage, did public opinion in 
 England manifest itself in favor of the King's de 
 termination to make the experiment, and now the 
 nation as a whole is, in my judgment, fully pre 
 pared to support the most vigorous measures the 
 administration may devise for our subjugation. You
 
 WOODBOURXE. 211 
 
 can't imagine how contemptuously they speak of 
 us. I was mad enough to fight a hundred times 
 before I left London, but managed to keep my 
 temper from getting the better of my discretion." 
 
 Harry. "What you say corroborates Mr. Arthur 
 Lee's opinion in a recent letter to my father. 
 Well, I, for one, do not regret the course events 
 have taken. With my good old preceptor, Dr. 
 Witherspoon, I believe the people of America are 
 not only ripe for independence but rotting. It is 
 too late now for the government to retrace its steps. 
 Our terms have risen since the guns opened on 
 Boston. We can be satisfied with nothing less than 
 the unequivocal renunciation of the right to tax us 
 against our consent, and guaranteeing to us by 
 irrepealable grants local home government, involving 
 the retrenchment of the executive functions of vice- 
 regents, and an increase of legislative authority in 
 the provincial assemblies. In a word, we must 
 have all and singular the privileges, immunities 
 and franchises of English subjects. These they are 
 not likely to give, and the end is foreseen. To 
 your tents, Israel ! " 
 
 Copland. "Why, Harry, you are an improved 
 edition of Nat Bacon." 
 
 Harry (enthusiastically). " You could not pay 
 me a dearer compliment. Bacon fired the first gun 
 for American liberty; may it.be my glorious privi 
 lege to shoot the last mother's son of its enemies." 
 
 Copland (professional caution could not stand be 
 fore the fiery zeal of his companion). "You are a 
 trump, Harry," he warmly replied. "Still I cannot 
 h'3lo wishing the crisis had been put off until I
 
 212 AVOODBOURNE. 
 
 had finished the round of the inns of courts. 
 However, that's no great matter; this revolution, if 
 it succeeds, will make many sweeping changes in 
 the principles and practices of the common law, 
 and I may have to unlearn half I know at present. 
 But who have we here?" 
 
 It was another visitor come to learn the exact 
 particulars of that astounding outrage. Soon another 
 and another arrived in breathlesss haste. The 
 exciting news had flown far and wide over the 
 country; the untiring "postman" was in his ele 
 ment, doing yeoman service and sending the intelli 
 gence with lightning speed in every direction. 
 Gathering volume as it passed from mouth to 
 mouth, it at last swelled into the most extravagant 
 dimensions, past all whooping, and rumor after 
 rumor of the most absurd description glided swim 
 mingly along on the top wave of popular credulity 
 to the remotest corner of the colony. 
 
 In no while Carleton found himself to he the 
 cynosure of quite an imposing assembly of indig 
 nant young patriots, who were unanimously agreed 
 that it was high time to put a stop to such high 
 handed and lawless proceedings. He improved the 
 occasion to harangue them on the abominations of 
 tyranny in general, and the grievous oppressions of 
 British rule in particular. The fruits of his glow 
 ing phillippic were a round dozen able-bodied vol 
 unteer recruits for the horse company. 
 
 It was after candle-light when Alloway returned; 
 the company were all gone, and Carleton was again 
 alone. His host was whistling as he entered, a 
 signal which foreboded other strange developments.
 
 AVOODBOURNE. 213 
 
 " Here you are at last ! " cried Carleton, " charged 
 to the muzzle with inscrutable wisdom, to judge 
 from your looks. Come, out with it; I am heartily 
 disgusted with this everlasting game of blind-man's 
 buff." 
 
 "Blind-man's buff with a vengeance!" replied 
 Dick, dropping into a chair and stretching his 
 limbs with an air of intense weariness. "Throw 
 me the slippers there in the corner. What a re 
 lief to get rid of these plaguey hard boots; now I 
 am comfortable. "Well, Harry, we are at a dead 
 fault; the trail is as cold as a wedge lost beyond 
 recovery;" and, to give emphasis to the startling 
 announcement, he stared hard at his friend with a 
 visage that was comically blank and rueful. 
 
 Bewildered as he was, Carleton could not help 
 laughing. " Lost ! " he repeated ; " where ? in Mr. 
 Graeme's punch-bowl ? " 
 
 "In Chesapeake bay," replied Dick, with unmoved 
 countenance; "the pirate has captured your mighty 
 hero, and away goes your little romance. If I was 
 not so sleepy, I would a tale unfold " 
 
 Harry. "Not a wink of sleep shall you have 
 until you tell me what you know;" and suiting 
 the action to the word, he locked the door of the 
 room and put the key in his pocket. 
 
 Dick. "And shall I not take mine ease in mine 
 inn, Hal?" 
 
 Harry. "When you have done with your pro 
 voking tomfoolery, not before. Come, sir, the story, 
 the story ! " 
 
 Dick. " Sheath your impatience, Hal. Will not a 
 song do as well? Captain Kidd, you know 
 
 " 'And he sailed and he sailed ' "
 
 214 WOODBOURNE. 
 
 Harry. "I verily believe you are tipsy in good 
 earnest. Your conduct is outrageous. Here I have 
 been the best part of the day (Dick, sotto voce, 
 'As dry as a powder-horn,') entertaining a score 
 or more of your friends and neighbors while you 
 have been " 
 
 Dick. " In better company. AYell, insatiable news 
 monger, sit down and hearken to my tale, and 
 much may it enlighten you." 
 
 But highly as we respect Mr. Eichard Alloway's 
 powers of narration, we prefer to tell the story in 
 our own way, and in our own good time.
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 the Christian calendar, the Sabbath is 
 the first day of the week. Of old, it 
 was the seventh and last day which the 
 Almighty Maker hallowed and blessed for 
 His own. By the change it became doubly sancti 
 fied, celebrating the victory over death and the 
 grave, and forever typical of the rest which is pre 
 pared for the saints in heaven. 
 
 It cannot be denied that very loose notions at 
 this time prevailed in Virginia as to the due ob 
 servance of the Lord's day, but with the exception 
 of that phase of profanity more or less common 
 to every age and country since the Christian era 
 began, the people were duly regardful of every 
 thing that pertained to the sanctity of religious 
 institutions. 
 
 It was Sunday, the last day of Carleton's proposed 
 sojourn at "Woodbourne, and, judging from the signs 
 of the weather, it was the last, too, of that delightful 
 interlude of the seasons Avhich, in this latitude, goes 
 by the name of the Indian Summer. The wind 
 was blowing great guns from the northwest; cloudy 
 
 (215)
 
 216 WOODBOURNE. 
 
 racks went sknrrying across the welkin's face, 
 darkening the sun and shooting cold lances through 
 shivering lights and livers, and the leaves of the 
 forest were falling thick and fast under the savage 
 flail of the tempest. Harry was sitting at the win 
 dow watching the limbs of the great oak on the 
 lawn, as they swayed to and fro in the gale. 
 
 "I am thinking there will be a slim attendance 
 at church this blustering morning," said he, turn 
 ing to Dick, who had just come in and was 
 toasting his shins by the fire. 
 
 "Never you fear for that," replied his friend. 
 "Between curiosity to hear the 'new-light' preacher, 
 and the desire to talk over yesterday's doings, they 
 won't mind the weather if the wind does blow. 
 Ugh! but it's a nipper nevertheless, right from the 
 North Pole." 
 
 Harry. "It will be as great a treat to me as 
 to the rest of the benighted heathen hereabouts. I 
 haven't heard a good rousing sermon since I left 
 Nassau Hall. Mr. Waddell is said to be a man of 
 extraordinary parts; he'll be sure to stir things up 
 from the bottom. You will catch it, you miserable 
 sinner." 
 
 Dick. "For what, more than the rest -of you?" 
 
 Harry. "Why, for your two notoriously beset 
 ting sins horse-racing and fox-hunting." 
 
 Dick. "If that's all, let it blow till it crack. I 
 do certainly love a fine horse, and can boast of 
 the fastest to be found in the four counties. As 
 for fox-hunting, I freely confess that I am some 
 what addicted to the good old gentlemanly pastime 
 which has come down to us from remotest an-
 
 AYOOD30URXE. 217 
 
 tiquity, and which, by the hye, was especially hon 
 ored by your mighty hero, Harry the Fifth of 
 England." 
 
 Harry. "I never heard before that he was so 
 passionately fond of the chase. Where did you get 
 your information ? " 
 
 Dick. "Kot from Shakespeare! Still it is a his 
 torical fact. Why, did you never read the story 
 of his coming one day to see his darling Kate in 
 Paris with a fox-tail stuck in his helmet in place 
 of a plume ? What did that signify, I should like 
 to know?" 
 
 Harry. "Rightly interpreted, it meant that he 
 had won the brush that is to say, the wife and 
 her rich dowry of lands, chattels arid heredita 
 ments." 
 
 Dick. "Anyhow, it was a royal recognition of 
 the glorious sport which has always been the pride 
 and delight of free-born Britons. The preachers 
 had as Avell be done canting about the cruelty 
 of it. What were birds and beasts of prey dogs 
 and men included made for but to exterminate 
 pestiferous vermin and keep the world from being 
 overrun by vegetarians and herbivorists ? It is 
 ridiculous, past endurance to hear one of these 
 sleek parsons, whose paunch is with 'good, fat 
 capon lined,' and whose life is one happy dream 
 of green goose and chicken-pie, railing at the bar 
 barous custom of destroying the poor innocent 
 foxes." 
 
 Harry (laughing). "You are perfectly incorrigi 
 ble, Dick. You wouldn't dare to make that speech 
 in Mr. Graeme's hearing." 
 
 19
 
 218 WOODBOfRXE. 
 
 Dick "Why not? The old gentleman is as keen 
 a sportsman as any of ns. You would be charmed 
 to hear him describe his famous badger- hunts when 
 he was a pranksome lad in Scotland. But it's 
 time we were getting ready for church." 
 
 In the midst of what was once a magnificent grove 
 of oaks and hickories, cedars and poplars, hard by 
 a spring of the purest and coolest water that ever 
 refreshed the thirst of man and beast, rises a ven 
 erable pile dedicated long years ago by Christian 
 prayers to the worship of the living God. The 
 date is on the wall. It was built A. D. 1706, of 
 bricks, they say, brought all the way from Eng 
 land, hard enough when they came out of their 
 native kiln, but so much the harder for their sea- 
 change as to defy the ravages of old Edax Tern- 
 pus. It is in much better preservation than many 
 similar edifices in Virginia of much later date of 
 erection, and has undergone occasional repairs and 
 alterations from time to time. Some of these better 
 ments had better been left off, in our opinion. A 
 new roof was indispensably necessary; but, alas, 
 the sacreligious genius of modern improvement has 
 gone inside and ransacked and disfigured at such 
 a tasteful rate that the original architect would 
 not be able to recognize his goodly handiwork. 
 Especially do we miss from its place the quaint 
 old-fashioned pulpit, with its overhanging sounding- 
 board, which, in the wantonness of juvenile fancy, 
 we expected to see come down like a well-fitting 
 lid and imprison the Rev. Thumbtext in a living 
 tomb. Mayhap the dread of such a catastrophe led 
 to its removal. Outside everything speaks of ruin
 
 WOODBOURNE. 219 
 
 and decay. The wall, which enclosed a space of 
 two acres, in the centre of which stands the 
 church, has crumbled to the earth in a dozen 
 places; the vestry-room is a dismantled wreck, 
 fragments of broken tombstones are strewn around, 
 and the frequent yawning hollows within the pale 
 remind the passenger how soon he may be the 
 prey of dumb forgetfulness. The old church has 
 seen strange sights in its day, and experienced a 
 variety of uses little dreamed of by its pious 
 founders. In the war of 1812, as many living wit 
 nesses can testify, it furnished commodious quarters 
 for a squad of valorous militiamen, charged with 
 the duty of watching the enemy's war vessels, 
 which were constantly running in and out of the 
 river and sending their barges ashore to set fire to 
 houses and hay-stacks. They performed their part 
 like veterans, if we are to believe the stories of 
 their prowess related by a surviving member; on 
 one occasion actually marching ten miles in a 
 single night, and reaching their destination in time 
 to cook their breakfast by the smoldering embers 
 of a once proud mansion, and to fire a volley of 
 oaths at the hindmost sloop-of-war now hull-down 
 on the horizon. Then it became by day a school- 
 house, where young ideas were trained to such ex- 
 pertness in throwing stones as not to leave a whole 
 pane of glass in the large mullioned windows; 
 and at night it served as a grateful couching-place 
 for beasts of the field, as well as a favorite roosting- 
 place for birds of evil omen. At another time, 
 within our memory, it was the debatable border land 
 of two fiercely contending religious clans, who well
 
 220 WOODBOURXE. 
 
 nigh came from words to blows in disputing their 
 mutual claims to rightful possession. And, lastly, 
 in the height of the late terrific contest between 
 the States it was again converted into a barracks 
 for the accommodation of a choice band of Belt- 
 sacrificing heroes of the last ditch, who generously 
 forewent their share of the splendid laurels which 
 bloom on the perilous ridges of battle and besido 
 the paths of crimson glory, and were humbly con 
 tent with the meaner sort that grew in the neigh 
 boring morass, in which they found at once the 
 modest recompense of a soldier's reward and a 
 secure hiding-place from the insolent foe. Away 
 with mawkish "whimpering and sentimental cant ! 
 What is yonder ancient pile of brick and mortar 
 but the rude work of profane human hands, and as 
 for those mournful relics of the forgotten dead, 
 why, if every grave were covered with a stone the 
 surface of the earth would in no while become 
 one vast tessellated pavement of lying epitaphs. The 
 moral is plainly written: You must do something 
 more than " building churches," if you would not 
 have your name buried in the tomb of oblivion by 
 the next nnvenerating generation. 
 
 Mr. Eichard Alloway prognosticated rightly; there 
 was a large concourse of people of both sexes and 
 all size.?, and of different complexions of color and 
 creed, to hear the word expounded by that inter 
 loping schismatic, as he was obstinately denounced 
 by the most bigoted churchmen. The ill-natured 
 sneers at the Presbyterian preacher's expense only 
 the more inflamed the popular heart, which was 
 now thoroughly imbued with the sentiment of re-
 
 \VOODBOURXE. 221 
 
 ligions toleration. The services had not begun 
 when onr friends arrived; it yet lacked some min 
 utes of the appointed hour, and the minister had 
 not made his appearance. The greater part of the 
 male portion of the congregation, sheltered from 
 the blast under the lee of the church, were ex 
 changing neighborly greetings and descanting upon 
 current news, prominently the exciting occurrences 
 of the previous day. Presently there is a -cautionary 
 whisper; the conversation ceases, and all eyes are 
 turned upon the tall, spare, clerical-looking gentle 
 man who, conducted by Lucy Graeme, walks quickly 
 across the yard to the side entrance of the church, 
 receiving, as he passed, the respectful salutations 
 of the assembly, which he acknowledged with grace 
 ful, dignified courtesy. A murmur of approbation 
 betokened the favorable impression his looks and 
 carriage had produced, as following his example, 
 the crowd poured into the church until it, was 
 filled to its utmost capacity. Kever before or since 
 was there such another gathering within those 
 sacred walls. Our description is taken from a letter 
 in the family archives, which says that the audi 
 ence were "literally jammed, crammed and packed 
 like herrings in a barrel," the writer, a bouncing 
 damsel of fifteen, having sat through the entire 
 services on her father's knee. Yet, despite the dis 
 comfort, the most perfect quiet and decorum reigned, 
 and from beginning to end the preacher had their 
 undivided attention. 
 
 Mr. Waddell's sermon was appropriate to the 
 existing state of public affairs; his text being the 
 tenth verse of the seventh Psalm of David. The 
 
 19*
 
 222 WOODBOURNE. 
 
 one great leading proposition was presented in a 
 compact, logical arrangement of convincing argu 
 ments, and enforced by the breathed spell of genuine, 
 unaffected eloquence. The people of America had 
 invoked the help of the God of battles as their 
 only strength and rock of defence. On one condi 
 tion only could they expect to obtain the deliver 
 ance for which they prayed from Him who "judgeth 
 the righteous and is angry with the wicked every 
 day." The discourse, so unlike in matter, style 
 and mode of delivery to any which had ever before 
 emanated from that pulpit, produced a profound 
 and lasting impression on the vast congregation, 
 and good Mr. John Graeme, overjoyed to see how 
 much his neighbors were affected by the "halesame 
 screed," could not have been more happy had the 
 sweet bells of Saint Mungo been chiming in his 
 ears. It was matter of becoming pride and grat- 
 ulation to his dying day, that memorable visitation 
 of grace, as he was wont to call it. The sermon 
 was such as might have been expected from the 
 wonderful preacher then in the vigorous prime of 
 manhood, who, long years afterwards, grown feeble 
 with age, palsied, sightless, yet all, more inwardly 
 illumined with celestial light, extorted a glowing 
 tribute from one who knew himself how to touch 
 with a master's hand the chords of human thought, 
 passion and feeling. The services w r ere concluded 
 by a fervent appeal to the Lord of Hosts that He 
 would sustain and cheer the hearts and nerve the 
 arms of the people in the struggle which was. before 
 them, and speedily guide them by the path of 
 victory to peace and freedom. The people went
 
 WOODBOUEXE. 223 
 
 away pondering deeply on what they had heard, 
 and even 'Squire Littleton was constrained to ac 
 knowledge that the "new-light" doctrines were in 
 the main sound and scriptural, albeit there was no 
 good word spoken in behalf of his persecuted saints, 
 the blessed Stuarts. 
 
 It was observed that Mary Littleton did not come 
 to church. Lucy explained her absence in a whis 
 per to Dick Alloway; she had remained at Bonhill 
 to bear Mrs. Graeme company. As the congrega 
 tion were dispersing Mr. Graeme drew his young 
 neighbor one side, and imparted to him a piece of 
 news which astonished him to an extraordinary de 
 gree. He gave one prolonged whistle, and then 
 suddenly remembering where he was as he met 
 Lucy's surprised look, he blushed to the roots of 
 his hair, clumsily fastened the carriage door on the 
 skirt of the old gentleman's coat, and went to seek 
 his horse in utter bewilderment and confusion. 
 
 " Wonders will never cease, Harry," he exclaimed 
 when they were gotten clear of the crowd ; " Mike 
 Burke has disappeared; gone in the night, the Lord 
 knows where." 
 
 "The mischief!" replied Harry, with an incred 
 ulous stare. " How did you learn that ? " 
 
 "From Mr. Graeme, who had it directly from 
 the sailor's wife," said Dick. "He stole away in 
 his boat under the cover of darkness without a 
 word of warning, and left no clew to his inten 
 tions save a piece of plank stuck endwise in the 
 sand, on which he had sketched with charcoal the 
 picture of a ship under full sail with a small boat 
 following in her wake."
 
 224 -WOODBOURNE. 
 
 "Which means plain enough that Mike has de 
 serted to the enemy," said Harry. " He'll have a 
 lively time cruising after the Katrine in this 
 weather. Well, it can't be helped, and really I 
 don't see why yon should be so much troubled 
 about it in one way or the other. Your jolly old 
 sea-dog has as much right as anybody else to choose 
 sides in the fight ; and having once served with 
 credit in his Majesty's navy, he has only gone back 
 to his first love. That's my solution of the matter, 
 leaving out of view the probability of domestic 
 provocations too grievous to be borne." 
 
 " He was well posted about the vessel's move 
 ments," Dick went on to say. "She did not put 
 directly to sea as Ave supposed, but will run into 
 the Eappahannock to complete her cargo, touching 
 at Hobb's Hole and Merry Point; Mr. Osborn, on 
 winding up his affairs here, having exchanged his 
 negroes with Col. James Gordon, of Lancaster, for 
 tobacco. The rascal could easily intercept her with 
 a fair wind. Conrad and Archie out of their 
 clutches, I wish they were at the bottom of the 
 ocean." 
 
 Harry made no reply to this wrathful explosion; 
 it was plain that Dick was in no mood for trifling. 
 He was both deeply mortified and sorely distressed. 
 Mike's shameful flight was the unkindest cut of 
 all; it was the culmination of black ingratitude. 
 
 OF PART I.
 
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