Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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4 ai, gkist, Proprietor. Jitbtptniitirf Jfantilj ftetosjrajjer : Jfmr tjie llrimdion af % |)olitical, facial, ^friraltnral anlr Commercial Interests of tj}t 5ont{). -TERMS?$3.00 A TEAR, IN ADVANCE. , - - ' 'K- ' ti ' ' ~ "VOL. 33. YOEKVILLE, S. .C., THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 34, 1876. , . NO. 8. - !, ?i (Original JJ'tMj. ?>* <!*&**&, A THRILLING 8T0RY OF WESTERN LIFE. ; BY MRS. HENRY DEAS. CHAPTER XV. The wiBdom of Picciola's decision soon be, came apparent, for in less than a quarter of an hoar tfre sky became entirely obscured, the. wind rapidly increased in violence, and large drops of rain began to fall. The boarders of the :,Gold Brick" came hurrying in from their work to seek refuge from the storm, and soon their-load voices and noisy laughter were echoing through the house. But Picciola, though she heard them, had been ensconced by Mrs. Mundy in her own private room, and was therefore screened from their somewhat rough company. She sat by the window, looking out at the unfamiliar landscape, which was a dreary enough one now, though it had looked cheerful and pleasant in the annahinfl- Evenini? wasaDDroaching. and she began to fear that she might be detained all night at the hotel. In fact, even if the storm should abate, it would be too late to venture forth without' the chance of finding another shelter for the night. She had no doubt, from the experience she bad had of Mrs. Mundy's j hospitality, that she would willingly accommodate ber.;!,And though anxious to pursue her journey, die had just made up her mind that it would be most expedient for her to remain, when she was startled at the sight of two horsemen galloping toward the house, in one of whom she, recognized the unmistakable figure of the very person whom she was in quest o?r*rtke dreaded Alasquez V 1 '' She involuntarily withdrew from the window', in order to escape observation; and with beating heart listened to the sounds below, which, directly after, indicated bis arrival and that of his companion at the tavern, and their reception by the landlady, who conduct ed them into the bar-room, wbere tbey couia dry their drenched clothing and obtain some "of the '"creature comforts" with which the bar of the "Gold Brick" was always liberally supplied. As soon after as it was practicable for Mrs. Mundy to leave her guests, she came bustling up to Piociola, with a face of mingled importance and alarm. ? > * i "Look here, mavourneen,"' she said, in a whisper, "if I tell ye somethin' don't ye be frightened." i "I knew," replied Picciola in the same tpp?* "I saw him from the window." "It? him, thinX Oh! but he's a villainous looking oraytur, with thim black shiny eyesand that cut across his face. I thought as soonaslset my eyes on him that I couldn't be mistaken. And now, avick, what '11 ye be doinr? , Ye'll not let him see you, sure!" "Nft-ffh-1 111). That *would do no good. I But, perfikps i might fifctout where be is 1 going. Could you find out, Mrs. Mundy, and let me know ? Then I would go right off and give information about him." "I'll be sure to ax him, quite unconcerned like, so as he'll not care whether he tells me or not. May-be he'll stay here all night." "Away went the stout hostess, quite filled wjtb the importance of her mission. She was extremely anxious to assist Picciola, as well as to have justice done to the "craytur," who so richly deserved punishment for his crimes. She found no encouragement, however, to converse with Alasquez, who proved exceedingly taciturn, and would vouchsafe only the briefest replies to her insinuating remarks. Indeed, he showed scarcely more inclination- to converse with his comrade who shared his repast, and with whom he exchanged but one , or two words while they sat at table. ' "Have you decided to remain here for the night?" asked the.latter, in a low tone, in Spanish, when their meal was finished and j they rose from their seats. "I suppose I'll have to. I have had enough ! riding to-day, and this storm" (inter-! larded here with a frightful Spanish oath) , "seems likely to last for some hours yet. And that beast of mine would only break ' down if I attempted to urge him farther." Then, turning to the landlady, he asked if she 14 at a V* iq onmnoninn onrl Viim. UUU1U OVVUUJUIVUMKV Uio VVUI^HUIVU MUVI U??M j self with % chamber and a bed, or a couple of1 beds, for the night. "Sure an' I can, eaisy enough. There's an illigant spare room up-stairs, with a lovely bed in it, big enough for three. Judy Mundy j would niver fail to find accommodation for jintlemen, like yerselves, an' that ye might swear to,'.' was the affable reply. "Come along up an' I'll show it to ye, at once, if ye like." The two men followed her op the narrow i stairs, to the second floor, where she ushered | them into the much-lauded spare-room, which happened to be exactly next to the one in which Picciola was, at that moment, sitting. "This will do," said Alasquez. glancing around. "Send us up some whisky and a couple of pipes, will you? We shall he more comfortable here than down stairs." "I'll be kindlin' the fire for ye, won't I, thin ? Sore an' it's too cold up here for comfort." "No?no fire! Nothing but what I told you, and be quick about it, if you please," said Alasquez, in a peremptory tone. Mrs. Mundy accordingly brought the pipes and a jug of liquor, which she set on the table in company with a pitcher of water, some brown sugar and two cracked mugs. And being left to themselves, the two worthies began to enjoy their seclusion, after their own fashion, pouring down whisky as though it was the mildest stuff in the world, and emitting from their pipes deuse clouds of smoke, which soon almost completely filled the room. "Phew ! this is stifling," said Alasquez, presently. And going to the window, which had been closed on account of the rain, he threw the shatter open to admit the air, and seated himself near it. Almost at the same moment, the window of the room next to it, which was not more than a yard distant, was opened in like manner; bnt so stealthily that he did not perceive the movement. 1 "Yon were telling me," said the other man, whose name Was Juan, and" who appeared to be a sort of follower, or inferior companion, of Alasquez, judging from the tone in which the letter always addressed him, and his own eervile manner ; "you were telling me, Senor, of your plan in regard to the lady, when we were interrupted." "So I was," rejoined Alasquez. "You thought it practicable, ha ?" \ | "As far as you had explained it. But there ] i was yet more to be told, was there not ?" I | "Only to make sure from you that there ' i would be'no disappointment-~-that you would 1 ! not fail to have the horses ready at the place < I told you of. If you fail me?take care of ] your neck, Juan, for I would not give a fig 1 for its safety." I "The Sefior would wring it, doubtless," i i said Juan with a grin. "But I have never | | failed you yet, have I, Sefior ? You will do J me the justice to admit that." I I "You are tolerably trust-worthy, as far as ] my experience goes. But this is a delicate j I job, my friend?the most delicate you ever '< had in hand, I can tell you. Tis a rare prize , I am going to carry off; the rarest you ever ( saw in your life." j "And the husband?is my custody of him i still to continue ?" 1 "As long as I see fit. It may be expedient ( pretty soon to put him out of the way. In { fact, I begin to think I should have done it t before?it would have simplified matters somewhat. I have almost too many irons in ] the fire at present." "T? Jnno a+ o mnmont'a nnfiff. c JLV vau uc uuug ?? ? ujv*?vmv v ??? G whenever you chooee to give the command." "You would like the job, eh ? But do not trouble your head about that, my friend ; leave all such arrangements to me. Time ( enough to think about him when my lovely prize i&fairly in my hands." "And Dolores?pretty Dolores V' "Oh, hang Dolores! I think I shall turn her over to you. I am tired of her now?ber mawkish sentimentality palls upon one after a'time." "But the child ?" .t?"You can adopt it, if you like?provided it never comes in my sight afterwards. That is, unless I see fit to " "Hush, Sefior!" here interrupted his companion, in a low tone. "I thought I heard a noise outside?we had best speak carefully." Both listened for a moment, but heard nothing but the rattling of doors and windows ^ shaken by the wind, which was now blowing e more furiously than ever; and be.'ore Alas- t quez could reply, the shutter he bfd pushed ^ open shut to with a loud bang, excluding s both air and light, there being no othei <id- c mittanoe for the latter save through a couple of very small defaced panes of glass at the *] top of the window. The "Gold Brick," like most buildings of equally primitive construe- J tion, was deficient in modern conveniences, c and glaziers in that part of the world were | scarce. ;< t "That's pleasant," said Alasquez, with an oath. "Go down stairs, and fetch a light, 8 will you ? And give a look around, as you v go, to see that there are no eavesdroppers about." , 1:.,, s A quarter of an hour later, a young girl, D muffled in a cloak and hood, might have been * - - -A. 1 seen rapidly making her way over tne wei, sou- ^ den road, bravely breasting the high wind and v Uqjfc->J??. fr?eat tLe1rp direction of the valley. It was Picciola, who, ^ after a brief consultation with Mrs. Mundy, had thus set out on her journey homeward ; D for General K's headquarters lay on the oth- D er side of the mountains, and thither she was y now bound. In vain had the kind Irish wo- ^ man protested against the rashness of the undertaking. Neither the tempestuous weather nor the lateness of the hour daunted the fear- v less girl, or shook her resolution of at once carrying tidings to the proper authorities, of the whereabouts of the enemy they sought. n Finding ber determined, the landlady had insisted upon wrapping her in some warm outer y coverings of her own, as a better protection against the rudeness of the elements ; and fa- gl cilitated her secret exit through a buck door, with a hearty "God bles3 ye, mavourneen, t, and give ye good luck !" which sent her off i with a hopeful heart. h Fortunately there was a full moon, and by hw tke r>lnndfl spattered somewhat and n suffered a fitful radiance to penetrate the gloom of a sombre wood. Without this ad- 0 vantage, Picciola felt that she must have giv- ^ en up her undertaking in despair, at least f until returning day; but even this dim-veiled light enabled her to follow the right path, r and prevented her from becoming hopelessly entangled in the mazes of the forest. The ? tall trees sheltered her somewhat from the a wind, though she heard the boughs bend and y crack all around her in an alarming manner, while the heavy drops, shaken with force v from the leaves, came down upon her like a miuiature shower-bathe. She was soon wet D through, notwithstanding her double wraps; but she cared not for any personal inconven- j( ience, or even suffering, provided her object c was gained. The highly-strung condition of her nervous system was a support to her, and A enabled her to bear far greater fatigue than ^ she could otherwise have endured. She felt a that no effort could be too great, no exertion too violent, for the accomplishment of her r aim. That her dear Seilora had been the sub-! ject of the short dialogue Bhe had overheard, 11 she did not for a moment doubt; and to save I her from the fate which was awaiting her, | 13 what sacrifice would she not gladly make? Perhaps, Alasquez had discovered her hidingplace already. Secure as it seemed to them, who could tell by what artifice he might not have traced them to it ? At all events, whether he was bound for the Spanish town or for the valley, the officer she was in quest of could have a force in waiting in each place to secure him on his arrivaJ. If only she could reach her destination in time! Another fact seemed to be established by the conversation of the two men at the tavern, namely, that Raymond was still alive. Should this indeed prove to be the case, what joy to her mistress! And what happiness to ! herself, should she prove the means of re-uni-' ting them, and thus giving proof of the in- j j tense love she bore Esther, and her gratitude . to them both ! I On, on, through the dreary forest, though her feet stumble and slip over the wet grass and scattered rocks, and the storm still beats upon her with pitiless force. On, ou, though in the dim, ghostly light, weird phantom shapes seem to rise and crowd around her, emerging from the black shadows of the trees, and the wind sbrieksar.d sighs with a voice of unearthly warning in her ears. At another time such sights and sounds would strike ter-j ror to her heart, but she will not heed them! now. "The good God sees me?the good God j | will take care of me," she whispers encourag- j ingly to herself; and fortified by this assurance, she checks the rising fears that assail her. ; Many verses of hymns and psalms, and short j sentences of prayer, taught her by her gentle I mistress, rise to her memory in this hour of peril and gloom, and frame themselves, unul tered, in her heart. Courage, little heroine There is the cave at last, where Dolores she] tered you last night. No fire burns in fron jf it now, and it is enveloped in darknesc Picciola thinks of its lonely occupant, and feeling of pity rises in her breast. Can sh be the Dolores of whom she had heard sucl scornful mention, and shall she warn her o die treachery of which she may be th6 victim [n any case, it would be well for ber to stop i tfief while and rest. Better not overtax he powers too rashly, for the longest part of he ourhey still lies ahead, and she may breal lown on the way, and utterly fail. She entered the cave, but in the dark sh< sould at first discover nothing. A smoulderinj aggot, however, still emitted a faint ligh rom one corner, and by this she Was present y able to discern the sleeping figure of he quondam hostess on the straw bed. Gentl; ipproaching her, she laid a hand on her arm md softly called Ijer name. Dolores started up with a cry?"Carlos lave you come ?" Carlos! It was not Alasquez, then, when '' r r\ 4 TV_' ihe was expecting, "it is l, l^oiores?ricci >la," answered the latter, with a feeling o relief at the discovery. "Forgive me for die orbing you, but I am so weary I though rou would not mind my stopping in to rest.' "Picciola!?again-!?why, how do you conn o be out in this dreadful storm ?" asked Do ores, passing her band in a bewildered wa; icross her brow. "I thought it was he whi lad come back. Holy Virgin, how wet yoi ire! Take care not to wet the child." "Is he there with you?" asked Piccfola enderly, as she now, for the first time, per :eived a little downy head nestled down on 1 >illow under the covering. Dolores drew, thi ilanket up more closely, and slipping out o >ed proceeded to kindle the fire; but Picciolt emonstrated with her, assuring her that sh< lad but a little while to stay. "Ob, but you must get dry?you must warn rourself before you go on! Why, you ar< naked to the skin?you must be horribly told! Do tell me why you are out in sucl veather. Do you mean to try and kill your elf?" said Dolores, rapidly chattering ii Spanish as she went on with her hospitabh 'sk. "Have you succeeded in your search' Tell me all about it, wili you not ?" "Oh, I am on the way to success, I think? ! hope; 'but I have still a great many diffi tulties before me," said Picciola, who had ta :en off her outer garments, and was wringing hem by the door. "You can not put on those things again,' aid Dolores, glancing at her. Leave then rith me and take some of mine instead." "Oh, no! they wOdld get just as wet in t hort time. It would be no use, and I mighi lot be able to bring them back." "Then hang them over this bench, close t< be fire. It will Boon burn nicely, now. ] rill get you something to eat and drink, anc hwfl Ti>u uaa'i^Hfiup wbtuyjou B?p t* 0." "I am going to find a person who will helj ae. and who is staying over the mountains aore than twelve hours' walk from here. S< ou see I cannot stay long to rest, for fear o eing too late." "Why are you in such haste ?" "Because I am afraid that that wicked mai rill escape?the one I told you of." "You know where he is, then?" "Yes, I know where he is, now; but b< lay not be there long." "And the little child?the baby. Hav< ou found him, too ?" "Not yet, the angel! But if he is alive, 1 oon will." Dolores was silent for a moment. Then urning with a gesture of almost fierce inquiry Itar nimot oka cvplnimpil na ahft lair UYYCtlU UOt g UVOV^ OUV VAWHiuvv., WMV .w. ler hand almost forcibly on her arm? "Tell me the name of the man you speak f! I must know it!" "Pedro Alasquez," replied Picciola, throwi ff her guard by the abruptness of the ques ion, but regretting her, perhaps, dangeroui rankness almost at the instant of speaking. The other drew back with an expression o elief, and, with a long breath, rejoined? "I startled you, didn't I?" But at the mo sent, I thought?never mind what I thought get foolish fancies sometimes, staying her< lone ! Almost everything scares me. An ou a little more comfortable now ?" "Yes, indeed," said Picciola, to whom th< rarmth of the fire was a luxury in her chillec nd worn-out condition. "This rest will dc oe ever so much good." "You were very right to stop, though yoi tartled me when you first came in. Yoi Doked so wild and strange, in your dripping lothes, I took you for a spirit of the storm !' "If I were a spirit of the storm, I woulc ly through the air, without trouble, to when am going," said Picciola ; "but unluckily, J m only a poor mortal, without wings, anc nth feet that will get tired." "And bruised, too, 1 ara afraid," said .Uolo es. "Is not the path very hard to travel ?' "Yes, very slippery and rough. But, oh Dolores, if I should die of fatigue afterward do not care, provided I only reach my jour ley's end in time!" "You have great courage?great endur mce," said Dolores, looking wonderiugly al ler. "I would not venture abroad, to-night or the sake of any human being alive!" "Perhaps you could do more than you think f the necessity came," rejoined Picciola 'Listeu?has uot the rain stopped ?" "It has slackened off," said Dolores, "anc he moon is coming out." They went to the door together and lookec >ut. The storm was evidently abating. Tin slouds were hurrying in broken masses acrosi he sky, the moonlight shone, aud the rail lad almost ceased to fall; but the wind stil )lew, aud it was growing very cold. "Ugh! it freezes," said Dolores, turning jack with a shiver. "And your things an lot near dry yet." "Never mind that," said Picciola, cheerful y. "I am so glad it is clearing off! I nius rmw Thank vou for helDin? me the sec Mid time! I shall never forget you, Dolores is long as I live." She again donned her half-dried wrap lings; and on parting the two girls exchangee i warm embrace. "I shall think of you always," said Do ores, "aud I hope some time we shall mee igaiu." "And I hope we shall both be happier thei ;han we are now," said Picciola. "I am happy enough," said Dolores, witl would-be gayety, "only when I get dull some ;imes, and that makes me silly. 'Take can if yourself in that dreadful wood." Picciola, as she moved away, turned t< wave a last farewell to her friend, who stoo< n the door of the cave, holding a torch which shed a bright light over her dusky hai ind brown face, and lit up her picturesqui igure and its wei'jd surroundings; m^ing i itrange, effective^ picture, which neyer^after wards faded from the memory of its ^holder t-1 destined as it was to be indellibly impressed I 1 there by ensuing circumstances of a nature 1.1 too momentous even to be lightly dwelt upon. t' ? CHAPTER XVI. It was the second day after the storm, and Dolores stood in front of the cave, shading ? her eyes with her hand from the brightly-shif ning sun, as she gazed anxiously down the ? winding path that ran for a short distance a along the rocky edge of the cliff, then disapr : peared in the recesses of the wood. "How long he stays away," she muttered to herself, in a discontented tone. " "Twelve ? days since he was hefis, and he promised then to return very soon. I snail cue or loneliness e if be does not come. And, besides, the food g is giving out, and I and the child will starve t if he does not bring us more." She stood for some time in the same expectant attitude, until a cry from the cave reachr ed her ear; and re-entering it with a heavy 7 sigh, she approached the bed where the baby, , having just awakened from sleep, lay with flushed cheeks and wide-open blue eyes, and , little fat arms extended io entreaty to be ta' ken up. Dolores lifted him in her arms and kissed him, and wrapping a shawl around 1 him, carried him, crowing and kicking, out * into the warm sunshine, f "Little cherubI" she said, carressingly. "I b am so glad I have you to love and pet! I am t not half so lonely as I was before you came. ? But I cannot help wishing that those to whom you belong, and who have a better right to 8 you than I have, could get you back ! ' Yes, " chiquo, (darling) I would gladly restore you 7 to them, much as I should grieve to part with d you." j The child, of whatever parentage it came (and its fair and blooming complexion, and light hair and eyes, showed plainly that it was ' not of Spanish blood) seemed well pleased with its olive-skinned nurse, who ministered i in if orifK as mnnh tanHarnoM a* t.hnuch it had a been her own, and when she played with it, f testified its pleasure by its merry laughter, i and a dozen baby-signs of mirth and contenta ment, which delighted Dolores, who, scarcely more than a child herself, lost for the time the recollection of her grievances in her romp 1 with her little charge. . , t,. , a Suddenly, however, she was startled by the r sound of approaching horses' feet, and looking i up, she perceived at no great distance the ob. ject of her previous thoughts and anxiety, ri- < 1 ding rapidly toward her. Springing to her feet, she laid the baby 3 down on a heap of grass and leaves, and ea? gerly advanced a little way to meet the new comer, who was none other than Esther's - dreaded enemy, Alasquez, though known to . her by a ditferent name.' "Oh 1 Carlos," she cried, joyfully, as soon as he was within hearings "! am so glad you > have come at last 1 I was weary of looking for you." ' "Stand out of the way, will you ?" he rei joined, in a loud, surly tone, which at once banished the glad light from her face; and L she shrank submissively aside, as he rode carelessly past, almost brushing against her, though she was not in the beaten track ; and dismounting a little farther on, proceeded to > fasten his horse to the branch of a tree. [ "Give me something to drink," be said, 1 without looking at her, as he strode toward j uis ravh.? i mijuiiiy?-' "Tia m?aumn ...j . there, is there Dot j She answered in the affirmative, and followed him to get it for him ; but he roughly de' sired her to leave him alone, as he could wait } od himself, and with a sorrowful face and slow f step she moved back to the door, and sat down just outside of it, out of his sight. His harsh manner and contradictory speech made her j believe that he was not himself, and she trembled to hear him pour out a second glass of brandy, after freely tossing off the first, for she dreaded the consequence*of such reckless 3 potations, in his already over-excited state. Presently he called out to her, and asked 3 her, with an imprecation, what she was biding for. [ "I am not hiding," she replie'd, quickly rising, and coming inside as she spoke. "What in the fiend's name are you doing, ? then ?" r "Only waiting until you wanted me, Car1 los." The gentleness of the answer should have . disarmed him, but it did not soften his savage manner, as he rejoined? * "Waiting until I wanted you, ha? Well, 1 wait here, in my sight. I do not choose to have you skulking off the moment I come 3 home. Is that your welcome to me?" "Oh, Carlos I" said the girl, tearfully. "How f can you talk to me so? You would not let me give you a better welcome." And draw. iug near to him, she timidly laid her hand upon his shoulder. He did not repulse her, 3 but fixed his fierce eyes with a searching, half3 sneering expression upon her face. "You are glad to see me, are you ?" he said 3 with an ugly smile as he thus regarded her. | "Yes," she answered, faiutly, for she was a ) little frightened at his look and tone. "You do not dook particularly happy, i What are you shaking for ?" i "Nothing?oh, why do you look at me so?" r said Dolores^piteously. "Are you angry with ' me, Carlos ?" | "Angry, my dear ? And why should I be ? angry?" [ The appellative, usually employed to deI nnte aflWrinn. had anvthinp but an affection Mv"v ?/ o - y , ate sound as he uttered it; and it increased, rather than allayed, the fears she felt. She ' | had found him angry, ill-tempered, difficult ! to deal with, many times before ; had suffered ,, harshness, rough treatment, even cruelty, at his hands; but she noticed something in his i manner now quite different from anything - she bad seen in it at aoy previous time; an t iudeBnable something that made her tremble, , and sent a cold, nameless terror to her heart. Her first impulse on his arrival had been to , fly to his arms, and pour out there the joy she . felt at his return; but that joy had quite died i out now, and she would not have dared to of1 fer him a caress, even had she been so dis' posed. 1 Directly he ordered her not to stay there gai j zing at him any longer, but to stir herself, and i | make up the fire, as it was cold. She obeyed ) him readily, glad to employ herself in any 1 : way, and hoping by her submission and doI cility to win him into a kinder mood. He did j not speak again for some time, but sat with e one hand shading his scowling brow, and his i eyes fixed on the floor, apparently raedita-! ting. Occasionally be would glance furtively t at her as she moved about doiug his bidding, -; but the sighL brought no softer expression to , his face ; and from time to time be took a fresh sip from the glass on the table beside - him, which he had replenished, for the third i time, and with a palpably unsteady band. She made up the fire, and then busied her self with some trifling arrangement of the t: scanty furniture of the apartment, until ati tracted by the crying of the child outside, who t had grown tired of being left there alone, when she hastened to fetch him in. i "Is that brat still alive?" asked Aiasquez - in the same surly tone as he had before eme ployed, as she re-entered with the little creature in her arms. 3 "Why, yes, certainly?he is quite well," she i rejoined. "You bid me take good care of i, hira, you know." r "What is he screeching for, now ?" e "He is hungry, I suppose. I am going to a feed him now. And please, Carlos, bring me a little more meal And sugar, as soon as you t can. The provisions are nearly out," said Dolores, trying to apeak in an easy and natural tone, as if ootbing were the matter. "Nearly out, are they ? You have a tolerable appetite, I should judge. Don't you fret yourself about house-keeping matters, my dear; they will not trouble you much longer." "Am I going away from here?" she asked, quickly looking up. "That is my affair," was all he vouchsafed to reply. Thus repulsed, she said no more, but busied herself ip preparing the baby's food, which stood warming in a tin cup on the coals, and when it was ready sat down on the ground to eive it to him. The child, healthy and vigor 008, partook heartily of the nourishment, although it was of quite a different sort to which he had been accustomed before he had been placed under her care. And when the meal was concluded, contentedly allowed himself to be once more laid down on the straw bed, Dolores feeling that it was her wisest plan to dispose of him thus at present, and give her undivided attention again to Alasquez. The latter, having apparently arrived at the conclusion that he had drank enough for the present, rose at length from his seat, and walking toward the fire, stood for some time in front of it, with his arms crossed behind his back. Dolores sat on a bench ntar by, silently awaiting bis pleasure. "Dolores," he said, after awhile, "I have a 1 word or two for your ears, my girl." "Yes, Carlos ?" she rejoined, in an enquiring tone. "Yes. I have. Words vou may not partic ularly care to bear me speak ; but you've got to listen to them, and the sooner the better. I don't know that there is any real reason why I should waste much time over the matter. Still, out of consideration for you, I'd like to prepare your mind a little?" He stopped, arrested, for the moment, in his Bpeecb, which be uttered in a very slow, deliberate manner, by her sudden frightened, imploring glance. "Prepare my mind 1" she faltered, half below her breath. "What for, Carlos V' . "Only for a change in your mode of life. Are you not tired of staying here alone ?" , "I do not mind it?if? if?1 "If what?" "If you will only cornea little oftener to see me, and?and be kind to me, Carlos; dear Carlos 1" Her voice gave way at the last words, and yising from her seat with a sudden impulse, she drew near him, and laid her cheek against her clasped hands on his breast. But with a movement, equally sudden, the savage cast her from him, with such brutal force that she reeled against the opposite wall. > < "I've had enough of this sentiment and j foolery," he shouted with an oath. "I'm sick of it all, and I am sick of you, too! I am going to leave you1?that is what I wanted wnii fn nn<laNfah/l Will mftV IpflMl tftkft care of yourself, for I shall do it no longer." ' She stood looking at him, with bands still tightly clasped, and wild, dilated eyes. ] "Leave me ?" she repeated in faltering accents ''Yes, leave you?quit you, clear out; get as far away from you as I can. I shall set as many miles as possible between us, that I may never see your face (with a horrid Spanish oath) again as long as I live. Now, do you comprehend ?" It was not possible for her to do otherwise, and With a lowisry,"her head sank upon her breast. Alasquez stood regarding her for a moment or two with a cruel smile. "Another word I have to say to you," he resumed, presently. She gave no signs of hearing. "Are you listening to me ?" he asked in a louder tone. She still made no answer, and striding up to her he shook her roughly by the arm. "Will you answer me, girl? Recollect, I ? irt ha *v\ a/i/I /ah f riflinr* '' am uun iu tino uj jwu jui muiug. "Say what you will," she answered in a low, dreary tone. "Nothing can make any difference to me now?I am rained and an* done." "But you may find that there can be a difference?a very considerable difference, if I find that you have been tampering with my affairs!" he rejoined fiercely. "Tampering with ^our affairs J" she repeated, looking up. "W hat do you mean ?" "Giving information about me, you witch. Do you not know that I have means of ascertaining everything that goes on here during my absence? Do you not know that I have : found out about your entertaining spies, and j betraying ray secrets to them?ha!" He gave her another rade shake as he spoke. "Carlos, you do me wrong 1 Indeed, indeed, I have not betrayed you. I have never given one word of information about you ?" ( she protested earnestly. I "You lie! Can you deny that you had a i stranger here, spending the night, twice, and ( that she managed to get out of you an account of my behavior to you, and anint where T . I i* 1 Of) J i was io 00 iouua r "Carlos, Carlos, that is not true! You may 1 believe every word I say \ will swear it, if you wish. Some one has slandered me to 1 you." I "I ask you, do you deny that you had company here while I was gone ?" "A poor tired girl stopped here to rest, on a long journey, and I gave her a meal and a ' bed. Coining back she stopped in again, for 1 about an hour. She would not stay longer, < althongh it was in the storm, and I would j have kept her until morning. I have seen | no other living being since you went away." ( "And did you not know that she was a spy; that she was on my track ? * Answer me 1" "I did not?on my soul, Carlos, I did not. 1 She never told me so." 1 "Nevertold you so! And you were too * great a fool, I suppose, to find it out. Never | mind?the mischief is done, and I have to j make you pay for it. We may as well settle } our account at once." He bad firm hold of her now, and there was 1 a dangerous look on his face. A faint cry escaped from Dolores' trembling lips, as she I flung herself upon her knees before him. I "Carlos, in the name of the Holy Virgin , and all the saints, I swear that I am innoceut. ( Tfanu aha hftB fnilnrf Aiif. ADVthincr fthoilf. vnil. it is not through me." "Liar! little double-faced wretch 1 Do you expect me to believe you ?" "I have never deceived you yet?I am not deceiving you now. Oh! Carlos, even though my heart misgave me, when she spoke abbut the child, and told me of the little one she was searching for, and I thought then that this was perhaps the very one; I would not breathe a word of it, but was faithful to my trust. I was faithful to you?I will be faithful to you always?even if?Carlos?Carlos?oh I God, have mercy 1" She had struggled to get her arms free, and to clasp them about his knees, in the last frantic hope of disarming him, even then, by her love. But as the glitter of a swiftly-drawn weapon flashed before her eyes, a shriek, thrilling in the agony of its hopeless despair, broke from her; and as his murderous hand descended, she sank still clinging to him, prone upon the floor at his feet. Twice again, to make sure of. the completion of hie fiendish work, he stabbed her as she lay ; then with a quick, half fearful glance around, quitted the cave and went to the spot where he had left his horse. u As he was untying the bridle with shaking hands, a sudden noise broke upon his qar, and mounting in an instant, he rode away with the rapidity of a lightning flash .into the forest. (To be Continued.) pstotg of f. feottna. HISTORICAL SKETCHES ~~ OP THE Early Settlement of South Carolina. BY BEV. BOBEBT LATHAB. REGULATORS AND SCOTILLITES. The successful defence of Fort Moultrie against the British under Parker and Clinton, had a most decided effect upon all parties. The tories and loyalists began to fear for their sovereign's power in America, and the Whigs came to the conclusion that it was possible for them to throw off the British yoke and be free. For a period of about three years after the battle of Fort Moultrie, the State of South Carolina, although she was one of the thirteen colonies which had solemnly pledged their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor to resist to death the unjust acts of the British government, enjoyed comparative peace. Her sons flocked by the hundreds to the Northern colonies to aid in vanquishing the common foe. The distinction North and South ' did not then exist Massachusetts loved South Carolina, and South Carolina cherished no less love for Massachusetts. From June 28th, 1776, to January, 1779, the war was carried on, principally, in the States north of the Potomac. It was not however, during these three years, a period of perfect tranquility. For more than ten years prior to the com*, mencement of hostilities between the colonies and Great Britain, there had existed in South Carolina two parties, which cherished toward each other bitter hatred. These parties were, at different times, known by different names; but the same individuals composed them. W hen the up country was seiuiug up, a vast multitude of strangers were brought into contact with one another, and still they were totally different from each other in their manners and customs, and especially in their notions of civil governmont. Some were intensely loyal, whilst others were as intensely republican. There was also not a few who came to the op country for no other purpose than that they might live free from all the restraints of law and good order. They were a tbieviog set of fellows, and contemplated amassing fortunes by stealing horses and negroes. The order-loving portion of the Inhabitants were, kept In a state of constant dread by these desperadoes. Prior to 1769 there was no general court, except in Charleston. There were magistrates' courts, the jurisdiction of which extended to all sums below twenty pounds. To catch and convey to Charleston one of these horse-thieves for trial, was no small job. The probability was that after being captured, he woold be rescued by his partners in crime; or, if brought to trial, he would be saved from suffering the penalties of the law by .the false swearing of his fellows. As early as 1762 the inhabitants of the Pedee and Lynch's creek region, presented a petition praying that Craven county might be divided, and that for the portion situated in fk/? />oo? fuolcfl inst.ifps be aDnointed. with ""O vvvwaTw j - r 4 out fee or reward, "to hear and determine ail cases, as well civil as criminal." These petitioners of the Pedee region were laboring under a great burden in that they were surrounded by a set of horse-thieves and cutthroats. The western section of the State, that portion between the Broad and Saluda rivers, was full of these desperadoes. This was chosen by them as a kind of headquarters, whence they sallied out in all directions to the great annoyance of peaceable citizens. Thomas Woodward, who lived in the region that is now embraced in Fairfield county, together with Barnaby Pope and Joseph Kirkland, got op an organization which was called the "Regulation," and the members of which were called "Regulators." The Regulators went to work with zeal to remedy the evils under which the county groaned. It was evidently their intention, at first, to do good by punishing outlaws; but sometimes they permitted their judgment to be controlled by their individual feelings. Horse-thieves and other violators of the rights of others - were bunted up, and according to the statutes or the Regulators, were given thirty-nine lashes an the naked back. In many instances notorious characters were dealt with more severely ; and some were shot when attempting to escape. The horse-thieves were more numerous than the Regulators at first supposed them to be. The line of demarcation between the Regulators and the horse-thieves, and horae-thief sympathisers, soon became clear and listinct. The people began to arm themselves, and a civil war seemed to be not far iistant. To prevent this, Governor Montague ippointed one Scovill to act as a kind of araitrator, with unlimited powers, of the difficulties existing amongst the citizens. Scovill was a most consummate villain. He espoused the cause of the horse-thieves, with whom he was no doubt in league, and as if war had been already declared, prepared for ;he conflict. The horse-thieves and ruffians locked to his standard. The Regulators irraed themselves and determined to resist he government as administered by Scovill. The two narties confronted each other on ^ J;he plantation of John Musgrove, afterward a ;ory Colonel. It was on the Saluda river, in ivhat is now Newberry county. Scovill sumnoned the Regulators to surrender. This hey did not do, and yet there was no one rilled, although seme shots were exchanged, [t appears that some of the more prudent of soth parties interfered and put a stop to the itrife. The parties separated without a bat;le, but still their love for each other was not ncreased nor their hatred diminished. , Tradition has preserved a most laughable , jircumstance which took place whilst the two ( sarties were drawn up in battle array. , \mongst the Regulators was one who had but ecently joined the party. He was a great , -i?i _ l! jraggart. .tie was ausuiuwjiy uuugtjr iui ? j ight- Whilst the Regulators and Scovillites j vere coufronting each other, some firing was < lone. This was more than the new-made i Regulator could stand. He showed that if he iras hungry for a fight he was no glutton. < 3e took to his heels and ran like a quarter- j lorse. It happened that he had in bis coat , >ocket a lead inkstand, in his flight, he < umped a large gully, and his coat tail flew < ip, and the pocket, with the inkstand, struck 1 iim on the back of the head. He fell on his 1 'ace, crying at the top of the voipe, "I'm shot! \ i'm shot! I'm a dead man! Gentlemen, , lon't kill me!" , In 1769, courts were established at Nine- 1 ty-Six, Orangeburg and Camden... This was all the relief the Regulators desired. Multitudes of the horse-thieves were gathered up and broaght to trial. Tradition says that 8covill was tried at Ninety-Six for stealing chickens. The evidence adduced, to prove the charges, was, that on a certain night, Colonel Scovill did steal from some one, thirtyeight chickens. Colonel Scovill most solemnly declared this was a most infamous falsehood. "There were only/' he said, "Sax and thirty, for I ate the guzzards." As a matter of course, we suppose, he was acquitted of the ofrtlon thirfiujn'/iJit />hi(>Irnni UUUlgC l/l Umlug gavivu >?n ?j( but found .guilty of having stolen thirty-six. Ridiculous as this may seem, jt is said, on good authority, to be a fact; and if so, gives us a correct idea of the kind of man that Governor Montague selected to settle a difficulty between honest men and thieves. The Regulators, on the breaking out of the war between the colonies and England, were generally Whigs; whilst the Scovillites were tories or loyalists. The two parties still continued ; but under their new names, Whig and It must be confessed that the Whigs, often acted imprudently and sometimes very rashly. In the western section of the State, there were many men of influence who refused, they said, from conscientious.scruples, to take any part with the Whigs in throwing off the yoke of Great Britain. Amongst these we might mention the three Cunninghams?Patrick, Robert and William (geuehtlly * known as "Bloody Bill,") BroWh, Fl'etch&ll, and some others. Whether gentler measures would have won these men over or not, it would have been wiser, and with all due, respect to the gallant old Whigs of 1776, it i would'have been more honorable; to have first tried gen- Metier measures, and then acted; as thjB circomstances of the case Bright demand. Tt'is nptfjjjjM claimed for the Whigs of jL77<5 that they^?^r infalliKlo Hn tK? oniifpftpi. it js admitted they were but men, liable to do irironfjjjjflp their zeal for the AmeiWn cause; the Wbig leaden attempted,; by abuse,' to dragoon * the loyalist^ to side with them. TbrAt which was at first a speck on the face ofr tbe heavens, soon enveloped everything. l!>iffeience_,_ of opinion was merged into determined opposition in every respect. Robert Cunningham and his brother, 'Fatrick, were men of very considerable influence in their region of country/ They were of Scotch descent, and were loyalists. Robert was the first Judge appointed.^or Ninety-Six district, and before him the notorious Scovill was tried.) Patrick was deputy surveyor-general of the province of South Carolina; Lord William Campbell, then governor bf 'the province, opened up a secret correspondence with these up-country loyalists. They were tj)ld to make all possible preparatipns for resistance, bet to.be quiet until a blow was struck by the British government. It is, however, no easy matter to keep men of violent pasriohs within the bonadd Qflfeoderation. It is no less difficult tofrestrain violent parti sans from acts and words that are calculated to develope slight dislikes into open and avowed hatred. Thus one word led to another, and one violent act was but the forerunner of another act more violent. Finally, the different parties assembled under leaders of their own choice, or self-constituted leaders, armed themselves and prepared for civil war. Late in August of 1775, the Rev, William Tennantand William Henry Drayton, visited the Ninety-8ix region. - They .made an honest attempt to conciliate the people. Both these men were enthnsiastid'on the'subject of American rights, and although they were honest in their efforts to advance a righteous cause, they were not always prudent in dealing with those who could not, or at least would not, see things as they saw them. Vague and false rumors were put in circulation by both parties. It was reported that the royalists were preparing to seize the agents of the Council of Safety; whilpt it was as firmly asserted that it was the purpose of the Whig party to force, by an appeal to arms, the royalists to sign the articles of association. The royal assembled in camp on the Enoree. Drayton oalled oat the militia aod prepared to ma&h against them and drive them from the country. His proclamation is dated September the 13th, 1775. Moses Kirkland, who bffi been appointed a captain by the Whigs, bat who had turned traitor, fled to Charleston and went on board the Tamar. On the lflth of September, a treaty was entered into between the hostile parties, signed on the part of the Whigs by William Henry .Dray ton, and on the part of the royalists by Colonel Thomas Fletchall, Captain John Ford, Captain Thomas Greer, Captain Evan McLaurin and Captain Benjamin Woflord. In this treaty it was a?i*eed that all parties'should go home and live in -peace. . Robert Cunningham claimed that he was not pound by the articles of this treaty, and still continued to "> in nniuwitinn ti\ the Whiff Dili up IUV pwp?v ? 0 party. He was arrested'and taken to Charleston and confined, i This aronsed Patrick Cunningham, and he made a desperate effort to rescue his brother before he would reach the city. In this he failed; but he succeeded in capturing a quantity of powder, which the authorities of South Carolina were sending as a kind of conciliatory present to the Cherokee Indians. Both Wbigs and royalists Were now furious. Major Andrew Williamson, who commjfhded the militia in the Ninety-Six district, was ordered to call out his men and proceed at once to capture the powder. The royalists were as keen for battle as the Whig militia, and far more numerous. Williamson and his men wefe forced to take reftige in a stockade. For three days they were closely besieged and made to suffer. The condition of things was for some days critical. At last ' ~ ? ? ? j 'mAa ili A a treaty was again euterouiubu uunccu ?us contending parties. It was agreed that hoe- ' tilities should cease on both sides. These treaties were only temporary in their results. The Ninety-six district was thoroughly aroused?neighbor against nejghbor-pand, in some instances, brother against brother. Io keep the royalists in awe, Colonels Richardson and Thomas were sent into: this region. The royalists were aided and abetted by Governor Campbell, and did tbecoontty a jreat injury by stirringbp the Cherokee Indians to hostilities. These deluded savages were persuaded by John 8tuart and his brother Henry, together with several other persons, to take up arms against the Whigs. The plans of StUaVt and his cotleftgaes were defeated ; but'still the Indians commenced to massacre the whites almost simultaneously with the battle of Fort Moultrie. These lniian wars grew out of the bid contests between the Regulators and Scovillites.