Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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lewis m. grist, Proprietor.! $nkpcnbcnf Jitmilg fUfospaptr: jfor t|t promotion of % political, Social, ^gricnltnral anh Commtrtial Interests of t|e jjontjj. TERMS?$3.00 A TEAR, IN ADVANCE. "VOL. 22. YOEKVILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, AUGUST 3, 1876. 31. JU Original LOST AND FOUND ? OR, ^ THE WHITE FAWN OF THE FOREST. by mrs. henry deas. m- . CHAPTER VI. Id a darkened chamber, some fourteen years after the occurrences recorded in the previous ? /..? _u cnapters or in is nisiory, ou uiu wuii?-ubii?i gentleman lay od a sick-bed, talking earnestly to a handsome, dark-haired youth at his side. The eager, intent expression of the latter, as he listened to the invalid's tremulous tones, denoted his interest in the recital he was listening to. "And you never heard from them again ?" he exclaimed, as the old man paused to rest, and to carry a glass of water with shaking hand to his lips. "Never. God knows what their fate may have been. The whole party were supposed to have perished, as no information in regard to them, except of an uncertain and unsatisfactory nature, was ever obtained. I tell you, r Arthur,.the wretchedness I have endured in i all these weary years since, should serve in i, some degree as atonement for my conduct to my poor Mary! I was a hard man in those days?and your aunt, God forgive her! was harder still. To her dying day she never pardoned Mary's disobedience?never got over the mortification her marriage cost her." "She never knew of her being lost, did she ?" "No; that surely would have softened her. It was six months after we got Mary's farewell letter, that she died ; and it was not un til nearly six months more that rumors concerning the fate of the emigrant band were set afloat. Ah ! if that letter had been answered, our child might have been saved. Prido, pride, has been our family curse?it has marred ray happiness in this life, and is sending me now to my grave a hopeless, heartbroken man." "Not hopeless, uncle," said Arthur, gently. "Why not ? Have I not been guilty of the destruction of my child ? Can I hope for pardon ?" "It was an error," said the young man, "but not a crime; you did not wilfully allow her to perish; and in fact you have not the r proof, even, of her death. How do you know that it ever actually occurred ? She may yet be alive." ^ "Alive, all these fourteen years, and never ^ send a word home? I can not think that, ft 4 Arthur. Notwithstanding our rejection of her ^ overtures to us, 1 know her gentle and forgivB ; ing nature sufficiently well to feel assured that B she would have sent us some tidings again, at B some time or other, from her home in the Woof tn l?t ha know of her still beiner alive. H No, no?she must have perished, and her hus band and child also. Poor little child! it B was a girl, she wrote us, and named after your K aunt Leila. I have that farewell letter of hers still. I have never parted with it. Would you like to see it, Arthur?" The young man assented eagerly; and old Mr. Chase drew from beneath his pillow a memorandum book, apd took from between the leaves a yellow, faded paper, which he placed in his .nephew's hand?poor Mary's last epistle, written to her mother and to hira previous to her departure from New York. Arthur read it silently, his heart swelling with involuntary emotion at the thought of r the cousin, of whom he had an indistinct, shadowy remembrance, as of a beautiful smiling picture seen long ago, in her happy youthI ful days, when he himself was but a tiny boy, ) writing this 6nal touching adieu, and going . f forth without a blessing or a God-speed upon ' that long, perilous journey, which must too surely have ended in her death. "If your aunt had written, or suffered me to write, an answer to that as soon as we received it," groaned the sick man, "Mary would have got it in time. Even then, if we i?i MnsSBo liar Vinahand and her. imu WUC1CU VU iCVVMV IIVI ? self back, and assured her of our pardon, I think they would willingly have changed their ^ plans and remained at home. But no?pride came in the way. 'She has disgraced us,' said her mother, 'and must suffer the consequences of her folly. We have already marked out the conduct we intended to pursue, and it would be mere weakness to vacillate now.' And so we never wrote, and our aw* child was lost to us for ever." "I should like," said Arthur, after a short I silence, "to go out West and try to 6nd out something about the real fate of that unfortunate expedition. It seems to me that if ? one were on the very spot there would be a better chance of learning the truth." "It would be a vain quest, my boy. Do you not supposethat the strictest possible investigation has already been carried out?that every effort was made long ago, that possibly . could be made, to discover the proofs of their fate? It is almost certain that not one could have survived, and that therefore they must have either died from the hardships of the journey, or been overtaken by some sudden destruction ; for had any of the party been spared, it must have been known to those who made inquiry." "At any rate, I should like to try," said Arthur, thoughtfully. "I have always had a sort of desire to go out West, and make a great fortune there." ' "Fortune! Alas, in seeking a fortune, you, too, might come to an untimely end," said ^ Mr. Chase. "No, no, Arthur, let me entreat you to put aside any such scheme which you may have formed. It can lead, I am convinced, to no good. And now that we are on the subject of your future life, I consider it a fitting opportunity to say something to you which has long occupied my thoughts. I have now, as you are aware, no direct inheritor for my own property, which is considerable, and I have always intended, since the loss of my daughter and grand-child, who should have been ray heirs, to leave it all to you, provided you agree to a certain wish I have formed." Arthur colored, and looked down. "You are very kind, uncle," he replied, in a low aud somewhat embarrassed tone. The old man looked at hira keenly, as if trying to read his thoughts. "Perhaps," he continued, presently, "you may have a sort of idea of the nature of this wish of mine, to which I have just alluded ?" ^ "Perhaps I have," said Arthur, reluctantly; j then, after a momentary struggle with himself, he added, as he raised bis eyes and fixed them candidly on his uncle's face, "if my idea is a right one, uncle, I think it only fair to tell you, before you say anything farther, that I fear it will be impossible for me to car ry out your wish " "Ha!" exclaimed Mr. Chase, in no pleased surprise. "I am indeed sorry, if that is really the case. But I may as well speak plainly at once, to avoid all misunderstanding on a very important subject, and one which I should be glad to have deBnitely settled. I alluded, then, to my desire to see you united in marriage to your cousin Charlotte, who is a most excellent girl, and would make you a capital wife." "I thought that was what you meant," said Arthur, coloring more deeply than before; "but indeed, uncle, such a marriage would not make either of us happy." r"Why not, may I ask ?" "For a very good reason, sir; we do not . - care io the least for one another?I mean, oi u I course, in that way; otherwise, we are very i good friends." "You ought to be; you have beeu playfel' lows from childhood, and have always appeared to me to get on capitally together." ; "So we have. I think Charlotte, as you say, an excellent girl, and I don't remember ever quarreling with her in my life. But as to marrying her?that's a different thing, un; cle, altogether." _ "I can tell you it would be a very good I thing?a very good thing indeed, for you," said the invalid, waxing impatient, for he bad not looked for opposition on this point, and it irritated him. "The only doubt in my raiDd is, whether Charlotte would consider it a good { thing for her. She might think Bhe could do better, you see." j Arthur was too clear-sighted not to see i through this flimsy little pretence of taking down his self-esteem.and stimulating his de ; sire to attain soraethiog not easy to be won. ! He knew that his uncle doted on him, and ; had no fear that Charlotte would refuse his ! hand should it be offered to her; though he himself had sufficient modesty not to feel equal certaiuty on the subject. "Well, uncle, may be she would," he answered, good-humoredly. "I am ?ot so vain ; as to imagine otherwise. In that case we could cry quits, for I must honestly avow that I don't want her." "Upon ray word 1" said the old gentleman. "This is the chivalry of the present day, is it ? All I can is, Mr. High-flyer, that you might go farther and fare worse. I suppose, because your cousin is a good, plain, seusible girl, not all airs and graces and fine dress like that Miss Gravely?" "Miss Gravely ! She is not my admiration, I assure you," interrupted Arthur, hastily. "May be not So much the better. But let me go on, will you ? I was going to say that I supposed you wanted something more showy and brilliant for a wife. Charlotte, I suppose, is too unpretending and matter-offact." "As to her being unpretending, I find it one of her greatest attractions," said Arthur. "But in the first place, uncle, Charlotte has always filled the position of elder sister to me?you know she is actually three years older than I am!" What of that? She'll be the better able to guide you." ----J ? ? ~ t U4 T manf o roifo fA UUIUO LUC I UUt X uuu v nnuv a nitv w guide me," said Arthur, half laughing, half vexed, yet unwilling to anger his uncle in his present feeble state, by too decided an opposition to his plans. "No, of course not. You'd like to marry some pretty fool without any brains, who'd let you go your own way without knowing whether it was a good one or a bad one. I can tell you, my money shall never go to that sort, my boy. Marry to please me, and it's you re; if not?" He abruptly broke off, and drank some more water in lieu of finishing the sentence. "I am sure, uncle," said Arthur, insinuatingly, "you would not want me to marry for j the sake of money. If I felt no real attachment?" "Real fiddlestick ! Arthur, you put me out?you really put me out," said Mr. Chase, beginning in a very loud key, but softening down at its conclusion. "Did you not tell me yourself, a minute ago, that you liked Charlotte excessively, and thought her an excellent girl?" ; "I said I thought her an excellent girl, and ' so I do ; but as to the excessive liking, I am - "..-J i/< ii ?:,i ! not sure tnat l commuted inyseu bu i?r, emu j Arthur, glancing sideways at his uncle to I judge how far it was safe to venture upon a jesting tone, "i think apple dumplings are excellent things?for people who like them ; but I am not excessively fond of them, my! self. I suppose it's because I haven't good taste." "Now, Arthur," said his uncle, frowning, "I wish you to drop that trifling tone, which I consider unbecoming?highly unbecoming, and, as I should think, your natural sense of propriety would show you, quite unsuitable to the present circumstances. You must recollect that I am on a couch of illness?it may be, one of death. At all events, I can not j i have but a few years longer to live, and surely you will not refuse to consider seriously a proposition which, if you would but accede to it, ! would, in its fulfilment, ensure your happiness and gratify me inexpressibly." Arthur was immediately sobered by Mr. Chase's serious tone ; and after a short pause, l<? in on nUararl vninfl QQ hft lftiH hjfl I lie 1 CpiICU 11-1 UU UiiVlVU fvavv, vw ?.w . ? hand affectionately on the invalid's arm? "Dear uncle, I need not tell you, I think, how earnestly I have always tried to repay your kindness to me, by being dutiful and obedient, and consulting your wishes in every particular?it has been the aim of my life to prove to you that I am deeply grateful for all you have done for me, since first you took me under your protection. Therefore I hope you will believe me, when I say that it is not mere caprice or pervisity which makes me unwilling to gratify you now. Uncle, there is no congeniality between Charlotte and me; I do like her, iu some ways ; but as to loving her, as?as?in that way, I mean," here Arthur stammered and grew confused, and blushed very red, as he touched on this delicate theme, "indeed I can't. And I do hon: estly think that if I was to propose to her, she'd laugh at me." "Laugh at you! I'd like to see her do it," said Mr. Chase, driven upon the opposite tack to the one he had taken before. "Why should she, pray?" "Well, she'd think it ridiculous, I know," ! and Arthur's mouth relaxed a little again at ; the corners as his senses of the ludicrous preI vailed. "I tell you, she has always treated me as if I were ages younger than she; and ' I feel so, really." "And what is this mighty disparity of years, that you harp upon ? Three years 1 j what is that to make a fuss about?" "Nothing, if the disparity were on the right side. But you see it's on the wrong side, uncle." "How old are you, let me see. I've for* gotton." "I shall be twenty-one next October?on the twenty-second." "And Charlotte is but twenty-two," exI claimed Mr. Chase, triumphantly. "Twenty-three next November, I assure I you." "Well, simpleton, twenty-one from twentyj three leaves two years, doesn't it ? So she is but two years your senior, and barely that, I according to your own showing." "Well, I give that up. My arithmetic was bad, I acknowledge. But that is not the oni ly objection, as I said before. I consider dis| parity of disposition a greater drawback than disparity of years." "What fault do you find with her disposition ? I thought she had a remarkably good one." "Indeed, I think she has," said Arthur, j "but it is so entirely unsuited to mine. I am | a little flighty, I acknowledge, and may be | need pulling back, or taking down ; but to : be kept tied by the leg to?to?I mean, to ( have such a weighty counteracting influence i always bearing upon me, would make me , low-spirited. Why, uncle, Charlotte has no more imagination than?than a doll," said Arthur, casting about for a simile that should be expressive but not disrespectful. "She's I perfectly inanimate?so phlegmatic, so dreadfully sober?oh!" The interjection with which he wound up : his remarks was more expressive than every: thing he had said put together. Mr. Chase frowned again, but this time it was to counteract a smile. "In a word," he said, as testily as he could, "Charlotte has too much common-sense to suit you." "Yes, sir/' said Arthur, with a twinkle in his eyes. "She really has." "You, having, of course, a large amount of uncommon sense, can't appreciate her. I gave you credit for better judgment, Arthur. I thought, although you were young, that you had discrimination. Answer me one question, at all events?have you any other attachment ?" "I ? No, indeed, sir," and Arthur laughed outright this time, though the school boy blush suffused his face again. "I am quite fancy-free." "So much the better. Well, boy, I can't talk to you any more on this subject at presmttOAlf f AA rw II nh ao it Ifl T I CUU 1 VC CAfHCU IIJJOCI1 tvu UIUVII UO IV aw* don't consider the question settled yet, however?not at all. I'll have some farther conversation with you when I am able. Leave me now, and send Pearson to me?it's time for me to take ray tonic, I believe." CHAPTER VII. Charlotte Darcy sat in her uncle's parlor, darning, with industrious fingers, a pair of woolen socks. This was one of her established duties, for Mr. Chase fancied that no one could darn as well as she; and indeed it would have been difficult to surpass the nicety of the work, or to weave the yarn in and out of the rent with more admirable skill, making it, when repaired, look almost of a piece with the rest of the soft, fine hose. To see Char lotte as she sat thus engrossed with her work, you would have imagined that to darn a stocking well was the chief aim of her life ; the solemnity of her countenance, and her unwavering attention to her task, seeming to indicate that it was of most absorbing interest and unbounded importance. Her cousin Arthur had, somewhat irreverently, implied a comparison between Charlotte and apple-dumplings; and it must be confessed that there was a sort of likeness in her round, colorless face to those palatable but singularly uninteresting-looking articles of desert. In stature she was of medium height, of the style of figure commonly called "dumpyher complexion was dead-white, her eyes light blue and very expressionless, her features of no particular order, neither pretty nor plain ; her hair, which was scanty, was of a pale straw-color, and worn in two unpretentious little braids, tied together Id | the back, school-girl fashion, with a piece of pink ribbon. Her dress was as simple as her coiffure, consisting of a dark gingham made without flounce or furbelow of any description, and a white checked muslin apron with a bib in front. Now it was not an astonishing fact that a young gentleman of ardent temperament, with an undeniable poetic taste and a strongly-developed love for the beautiful, such as Arthur Leslie certainly was, should not feel any very keen admiration for a maiden of such unprepossessing exterior; but add to this that Charlotte's manner and disposition corresponded with her outward appearance? that she was phlegmatic, prosy and commonplace?and it will be still more reasonable to suppose that between persons of mind and temper so different as theirs there could exist no congeniality whatever. They had, it iB true, a sort of liking for each other. As Arthur had said, they had never quarrelled in their lives, but had lived harmoniously enough together during the eight years they Jiad been co-inmates of their uncle's house. Arthur had been wont to confide his boyish trou'? * ?? ?? rt/vitnin nnrl oka Dies ami ese&paues iu ma vuusiu, auu out, with the quiet superiority of senior steadiness and prudence, had extricated him from maDy juvenile scrapes, dosing him with much wholesome advice as an accompaniment to her services: end though detesting the advice, he had accepted it uncomplainingly in consideration of the services, consoling himself for the infliction by invariably acting contrary to it afterwards. He regarded her as a useful, rather tiresome, but not wholly disagreeable, and, in fact, almost a necessary appendage to his uncle's comfortable establishment, rendered all the more comfortable by her housewifely care and management. She did not interfere with his pursuits, and was affectionate enough to him in an unenthusiastic fashion of her own ; never resenting the boyish bluntness with which he sometimes addressed her, or the impatience which, it must be owned, he not unfrequently manifested on account of her "slow" ways. Altogether, they jogged on comfortably euough together?but as to the idea of any warmer feeling than now existed ever springing up between them, it oaamarl ton nponnat.ppnna ft nilft to fiherish. 1?f As Charlotte sat darning her uncle's socks, there came a ring at the bell, and presently a servant entered the parlor, bearing in his hand a choice bouquet. "Mr. de Vaux's compliments, and begs Miss Darcy will accept these flowers; and hopes she is not fatigued after the party last evening." Charlotte took the flowers, an approach to a blush radiating, for an instant, over the blank whiteness of her cheek as she did so. "My compliments, and I am much obliged to Mr. deVaux. I am not feeling at all tired, to-day. Is he waiting, John?" "A servaut brought them, miss." "Oh! very well." John departed, and Charlotte, after waiting a moment to be sure that no one was near, parted the thickly-grouped blossoms in the centre and drew from their depths a small, curiously-twisted note, strongly flavored with a scent that was not born of its fragrant sur Jf mac rotKor on OSQpnfA ftf nfir lUUUUUJgO III " ?U 1UKIIVI MU WWW..V* ?- J. fumery-ehop extraction. A smile of placid satisfaction overspread her features, as she opened it and read? "Light of my soul! Your satellite, revolving within an orbit of two squares around your dwelling, yet not venturing to approach more nearly in the broad blaze of day to the luminous centre of his attraction, writes to remind you of your promise to meet bim without fail at the Gardens at 4J P. M. I await with patience the hour of your coming. "Your devoted A. de V." "Half-past four?yes, that will suit very well," murmured Charlotte. "I promised uncle to see about his broken eye-glass, and at the same time I?" Her soliloquy was interrupted by an ap| proaching footstep, and she hastily thrust the i note into her pocket as the door was opened, j and Arthur sauntered in. He threw himself in a deep chair, and leaning his head against ; the back, with his hands thrust into his pocki ets and his legs comfortably stretched out, ! watched his cousin, as, with something less of composure than usual in her manner, she busied herself arranging her flowers in a vase. <n owe vnn boon rrnthprincr thofifl at this ""'u jy" " b~' ?B hour of the day?" he inquired. "No. They were sent to me." "By whom, may I ask?" "By Mr. de Vaux," calmly replied Charlotte." "DeVaux ! It strikes me, Charlotte, you have made something of a conquest in that quarter," said Arthur, with an amused look. "Dear roe! does it, really?" was the innocent rejoinder. "Look, Arthur, how prettily these crimson and white buds are mixed. They make a nice contrast, don't they?" "Very nice. Wonder if that's owing to his taste, or to a gardener's. By the way, Lotty, I want you to walk down town with me this afternoon ; I would like you to help me choose somethings in the dry-goods line?your judgment is better than mine, you know." Charlotte bit her lips, and a perceptible shade of annoyance crossed her face; but as it was partially averted from her cousin he did Dot observe it "Couldn't we go to-morrow as well ?" she asked after a moment's hesitation. "The light is so bad now in the,afternoons, these short j days?I think the morning is better for shop- j ping, don't you ?" i "Ob ! well, it would not sig ify for what I want to buy. It is quality, not color, that I want your advice about, and gaslight will do for that. I have an engagement to-morrow ; and I heard you say you were going to Spieg' iinnla'a rrlaaa tliio offornnnn an T JCI O IUI UIIVIOO giMw HMIO w?kvauvwM| ww * thought we could get through all at one time." "I did speak of going out," said Charlotte, slowly, "but I am not sure now whether I can or not?that is?" "Oh! never mind, of course, if you don't want to," said Arthur, carelessly. "Another time will do as well; but I thought it likely this afternoon would suit you, if you had no other engagement." "If I do go," said Charlotte, speaking rather fast, and with a little pink color in her cheeks, "I must go and see Sophia Wells. I have been owing bfer a visit this great while, and I believe she is going in the country soon." "Sophia Wells 1 I must respectfully decline escorting you thither, my dear. Of all the young ladies in the world, that friend of yours is to my taste the least attractive." "I was thinking I might help you with your shopping Brat, and go there afterwards, if we went early enough," said Charlotte, apparently anxious to propitiate him, and effect an amicable arrangement. " As early as you please; dinner is over, you know, by four." Unaltlir waha!frn/1 in Km* min/t fKo VliniiUtbC UOOllIJ A OVVI * vu IU UVA U?*MV? ?MW practicability of gettiog through the shopping and reaching the Gardens by half after four; and though doubting whether it could be accomplished, she saw no way out of the difficulty, arid consented with apparent graciousness to the arrangement. This being settled, Arthur dismissed the subject at once from his thoughts, little imagining how important a one it was in his cousin's estimation. While she was wondering, with secret anxiety, whether it would be possible for her to persuade Clayton, the indexible man-cook, into having dinner a trifle earlier than usual, in order to facilitate the keeping of her appointment, his mind was reverting to his conversation with his uncle, respecting a union between them?a scheme which seemed to assume fresh absurdity of aspect the more he regarded it. Since this conversation, which had taken place a few days before, no allusion had been made to the subject, greatly to his relief. Mr. Graham's health was improving, and he had been occupied with his transitions from one stage of recovery to another, with his progress from his bed to an easy chair, and from gruel to beef tea, apparently to the exclusion of other considerations. Arthur wondered, as he watched Charlotte, who had gone back with stolid composure to her darning, whether it would be possible for any * ? _- !! body ever to tall in Jove witn ner?sun more, whether it would ever come to pass that such a thing as love could be awakened in her sluggish soul?thesortof love which his romantic fancy touched with a poetic halo. Clayton did condescend, on Charlotte's representing to him the necessity of her going out early, to send in dinner at a quarter before three; and as the meal occupied but a short time, Arthur being a rapid eater and she herself feeling but little appetite on this occasion, they were able to start a little before four o'clock on their expedition?an hour which the increasing shortness of the winter afternoons made not at all too early for any one who had business to transact. They went first to the watchmaker and jeweler's store where the eye-glass had been left for repair, then betook themselves to a furnishing establishment, where Arthur desired to make sundry purchases, in the shape of cloth for a uew every-day suit, nose, necaties and other small articles of apparel, all of which, notwithstanding Charlotte's promptly rendered opinion, he took an interminable time to select. "How hard you are to please this afternoon," she was goaded into saying at length, by her extreme, though carefully-repressed, impatience. "And how fidgety you seem to be this afternoon," he retorted. "But I forgot, you have that visit to pay. It is rather inexcusable in me to keep you so long. Well, Lotty, you can go now, and I'm much obliged to you. You've helped me with all the important things, and I can do the rest very well by myself." "Are you quite sure?" "Yes, of course. You just go on now and see the adorable Sophy?and don't forget to give her my love." "Are you going anywhere else, yourself?" she lingered to ask. "Yes. I'll take a stroll down to Johnson's office. There's a little matter of business I promised uncle to consult him about." Relieved at this announcement, Charlotte set off at once for the Gardens, which were in 'just the opposite direction to the office of Mr. Johnson, the broker, glancing at her watch as she did so. It already \vanted ten minutes to five, and her heart beat with the fear that she might be too late. But as she arrived within sight of her destination, she experienced a sudden thrill of satisfaction at the discovery that her fears had been unfounded. In another moment a slim young gentleman who had been loitering near the gates, becoming cognizant of her approach, hastily advanced to meet her ; and extending his hand, bestowed a most lover-like pressure on the fat little tightly-gloved fingers she placed within it. "You are late," he murmured, bending a tenderly-reproachful glance upon her face, which was lighted up with smiles. "I was beginning to fear you were going to be so cruel as to disappoint me." "Oh, no," replied Charlotte. "The truth is, I would have been punctual if I could, but I had to go somewhere first with my cousin Arthur, and was not able to get off earlier." "Your cousin Arthur! Naughty little angel, do you want to make me jealous?" "Jealous! Really, Alpbonse, that is absurd," simpered Charlotte.^ "He is quite like my brother, you know. J3ut even brothers are exacting, sometimes." "Ah, hut not as exacting as I shall be?aB I am even now! Mon ange, you must contrive to let me see you oftener than I do. These hurried and infrequent interviews do not satisfy the cravings of my soul." "Why, I saw yofu last evening, you know," | responded Charlotte, who was now in the ; seventh heaven of felicity, as she strolled through a retired path with her Adonis at her side. Adonis-like she thought him, and so he was no doubt in his own estimation, judging from his jaunty, self-satisfied air, and the dandified mauner in which he swung bis little cane. He was tall and rather well-formed* though slender; with very black hair aud eyes, an aquiline nose, and a little black moustache just shading his lip; bis counte ance was somewhat of a Jewish cast, ana there was something foreign in the animation of his manner and the vivacity of his gestares, though not in his accent and speech. "I saw you last evening, you know; have you so soon become oblivious of the fact? It would not surprise me if you had, being aware how great an impression was made on you by Miss Walworth, that Philadelphia belle whom you gentlemen all seemed to consider so attractive." "Miss Walworth ! a mere butterfly of fash ! ion, handsome bat heartless. Her beauty, I could read at a glance, in her only dower. Politeness to our hostess, who was particularly anxious to have attention showed her as a stranger, demanded that this attention should be paid, and I could not be conspicuously neglectful. Tpyou yourself had not forbidden it, ray attention to you, you well know, would have been much more marked, on that as well as on all other occasions." "Oh! no, that would be imprudent," said Charlotte, shaking her head. I would not have my uncle vexed on any account; and he mitrht hear. Whv. Alohonse. onlv thia morn iog Arthur jested me because of the flowers you sent me." "Did he ? And what did you reply ?" "Oh! I just turned it off. I don't really think be suspected anything, you know. It is a pity one has to be so much on one's guard, sighed Charlotte, who derived, in truth, profound enjoyment from this little mystery and romance?such a very new experience in her thoroughly uneventful life. "Yes, it is a nuisance?but then, my life, we must reflect what high stakes we are playing for?at least, I am," said Mr. de Vaux, correcting himself with gallantry. Charlotte little knew all the meaning his words implied, or she would not have laid them so flatteringly to her simple soul. "Alphonse," she murmured with a coy glance, "tell me, truly, do you indeed like me so much ?" "Like you 1 Ah! Charlotte." And here followed a rhapsody unnecessary to be repeated. Suffice it to say that the lover's rhetoric fell like charming music on Charlotte's ready ear, and sank deep through that susceptible medium into the recesses of her heart. It was a very good, well-meaning little heart, on the whole, though her conscience admonished her that she was not acting worthily in this matter. Butsbe had read or heard somewhere that "all was fair in love and war," and she dreamed of a future in which her uncle, won over by Alphonse s eloquence and her own prayers, should give bis consent to their marriage, and crown her life with unspeakable * 1 1J i.t glory id bo aoing. one was sure sne couiu meu win bis forgiveness for the stratagems to which she now feit herself obliged to resort; and to become the wife of Alphonse de Vaux seemed to her an acme of bliss, for the attainment of which she might be pardoned some small deceit. Why she dreaded her uncle's becoming acquainted with the existence of her love affair, she could not exactly define, but she felt tolerably certain that it would not meet with his approval. Mr. de Vaux was of French parentage, though American born; he was a Papist, like all his family; and then he had no settled employment in life, but spent his time in leisure and amusement?all of which circumstances she knew would render him distasteful to Mr. Graham, even though he should find nothing personally objectionable in him. In poor Charlotte's eyes he was a hero?but then he was her first lover, and such an ardent one! Many who are heroes in their admirers' eyes are not made of sounder stuff than was this volatile, dandified Franco-American, who, while playing the devoted swain, and pouring protestations of undying affection into Charlotte's ears, bad an undoubted eye in secret to the large fortune which, it was currently reported, ehe would share equally at her uncle's death with her cousin Arthur?which, as some said, there was even a possibility of her inheriting out and out. It was already dusk when they parted, but' Charlotte, though in fear and trepidation on account of the lateness of the hour, could not do otherwise than pay her visit to Sophia VVollo?elne hnw rnnld she account for her long abseuce from home? She almost flew thither, found, to her relief, that her friend was out, left a card, and then bent her steps toward her uncle's house, feeling that she had really accomplished a great deal that afternoon. [To be Continued.] psitotjj ot tartina. HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE Early Settlement of South Carolina. BY BEV. BOBEBT LATHAN. TARLETON SENT IN PURSUIT OF THE KING'S MOUNTAIN MEN. Lord Corn wall is expected to have an easy time of it so soon as he reached Charlotte. Here he expected to rest his army, recruit his forces, replenish his supplies and ultimately march, with flying colors, through the State of North Carolina. Apparently, bis plans were wise, and he undertook, with energy, to put them into execution. On all sides he was beset with difficulties. The region of country now embraced by the counties of Mecklenburg, Rowan and Union, together with portions of adjoining counties, were full of as true Whigs as ever drew the breath of life. Over the entire region, extending from the Haw river on the east to the Broad river on the west, and from Statesville, North Carolina, on the north, to Winnsboro, South Carolina, on the south, there were settlements made by Scotch-Irish immigrants. Some of these had come into the region from Bucks, Lancaster and Chester counties, Pennsylvania, and some of them had come directly from the Emerald Isle. Like the Huguenots, the Scotch-Irish never had a colony entirely under their control; but as early as 1730 they were almost the exclusive occupants of Cumberland valley. Harrassed by the Indians, they wended their onntli nnrl ?? purlv flA 1750 thev were n fMJ DVUVU) w ?J .. J the controllers of the region of country embraced in Fairfield, Chester Lancaster and York, South Carolina, and of a considerable tract of country embraced in the State of North Carolina. Charlotte was a kind of nucleus around which the various Scotch-Irish settlements clustered. To this point the Whigs of Fairfield, Chester, Lancaster and York fled for safety on the approach of the British, and here they assembled that they might organize for the purpose of resisting the invading foe. When Cornwallis entered Charlotte, he was iD the midst of the most uncompromising en- | .1 T? ? L .11 I emiea me r>riuau guvcunucui uou m on America. Here be met, at every turn, men and women who had imbibed the spirit of John Knox?men who not only dared to think for themselves on all subjects, both political and religious, but men and women who never fgared to act with an invincible energy. Fathers had told their children about the trials and difficulties of their progenitors on the other side of the Atlantic. Mothers had. sung the songs of the martyrs to their babes in the cradle. In their dreams at night, the children bad been wafted to the land where the martyrs had lain weltering in blood. Young men and maidens had drank in the spirit of the martyrs, and tears of indignation and: sorrow alternately streamed down their cheeks. Wbeu tbeJbritisb encamped at unarlotte, the Whigs thought of "Wellwood's dark muirlands," and their blood boiled with indignation. No man ever was more disappointed than was Cornwall when he arrived at Charlotte. Foes beset him in the town and in the country, by night and by day. His vedettes were shot down, and it was only at the risk of his life that a single individual could go out of the British camp or enter it. Foraging parties had to be protected by large bodies of soldiers. The communication with Blair's mill and Camden were almost cut off by individuals who lay concealed in the thickets, ready to shoot down all who might pass between these points and Charlotte. >The mills of which Cornwall had taken possession, and by which he expected to he supplied wiin meal and flour for his army, had to be guarded with strong forces, and still they were not safe from the attacks of the Whigs. The country afforded but a scanty supply for the army, and the British concluded that the region of country around Charlotte, which is now regarded as one of the beet agricultural sections in America, was little better than a wilderness. Lieutenant Tarleton says: "The plantations in the neighborhood were small and uncultivated; the roads narrow and crossed in every direction ; and the whole face of the country covered with close and thick woods." It was true that at that time most of the plantations in the Scotch-Irish settlements were small; but a Scotch-Irishman's religion for bids laziness. The reason that the British army could not And an abundance of supplies in the ScotchIrish settlement of Charlotte was not because the farms were not well cultivated, but because it was dangerous to enter a corn-crib or a wheat-house. At Col. Polk's mill, two miles from Charlotte, the British found twenty-eight thousand pounds of flour and a large uuantitv of wheat: but they got possession of it only after a severe skirmish. Seven miles from town, on the Beattie's ford road* it was ascertained that a large amount of grain and forage might be obtained. To secure these supplies a foraging party, protected by a body of armed men, was sent out The point of destination was a plantation owned by a man by the name of'Mclntyre. As the British advanced, they passed by a field in which a boy was plowing. He at once threw the harness off bis horse, and mounting the animal, proceeded by byp-paths to give the alarm to the neighborhood that the plunderers were coming. The women, children and servants mounted horses and fled before the British. The men left their work, and, arming themselves, fled to the woods. When the foraging party arrived at the house of Mclntyre, the family had been gone only a few moments. Everything was left to be disposed of as the British saw fit. The wagons were driven up, and the work of loading them with what ever was thought useful commenced. A party of the soldiers commenced to kill the pigs and calves which were in the yard; others undertook to catch the domestic fowls. Whilst chasing the chickens ftvnnnk tka TTQrrl ft anUiftr hv OV&T iuiu?6u .u? i - ? > , turned a bee-hive which stood against the garden fence. The bees, enraged by this ruthless invasion of their rights, issued forth in countless multitudes and stung the soldiers of his Majesty. The commanding officer, at the time, was standing in the door of the house, with one hand on each of the posts of the doorway. He was pleased at seeing so many good things, but when the soldiers began to run about dodging from the bees and slapping at them in all directions, he laughed heartily at the sport. Just at this moment twelve Whigs, armed with rifles and pistols, had crept up on the plunderers and saw and heard all that was croincr on. One of the par ty, no longer able to bear the outrage, leveled his rifle on the Captain in the door. With the keen crack of the gun, the merry Captain tumbled, a lifeless corpse, into the yard. Eleven other shots were fired by the concealed Whigs, and nine men and two horses were stretched dead upon the ground. The British cavalry began the pursuit, but soon the Whigs changed their position and poured in another volley. Again they change their position and fire at intervals. The British put their dogs on the trail of the Whigs, and one of these creatures came up with a Whig just after he had discharged his rifle. The man drew his pistol and shot the dog down. The other dogs came up, but when they saw their companion lying dead they set up an howl and returned to the wagons. The British by this time had become frightened, and suspecting an ambuscade, began to retreat at once. The Whigs hung around them, shooting down the horses until the road became blockaded with dead horses. No doubt this circumstance was in Tarleton's mind when he mentioned the narrowness of the roads about Charlotte. Such was the condition of Cornwallis, whilst at Charlotte, that he could neither receive nor send messages from any point Not only so, but he did not know what to believe as true and what to regard as false. The Whigs were all around him, and he had scarcely force enough to enable him to remain in Charlotte in safety. His supplies were wasting away, and it was with great difficulty that he received any thing from the surrounding Tka nniinfrij ohnnnHoH With AAWR UUUUilJl JL 11V WUUVIJ HWWHUUw WW m WM ww mostly milch cows?bat very few sheep. The cows were poor and the British army killed on an average one hundred each day during their stay at Charlotte. On one day they killed thirty-seven cows with calf. Surrounded by these difficulties, Corawallis thought it was best to advance toward Virginia. General Jethro Sumner, with a party of Whigs, was encamped at Alexander's mill on a branch of Rocky river. To dislodge Sumner, Com wallia was making preparations when he heard of tbe battle of King's Mountain. That memorable event took place on the seventh of October, 1780; but so closely was Cornwallis hemmed in, and so strictly were the roads and woods watched for messengers, that it was cot until the mountain men were gone that he learned certainly of the battle. So soon as it was rumored that Ferguson L-J AafiamtaA at ITins'i Mnnnt>in. rVvrn u ???-= wallissent out Lieutenant-Colonel Tarleton to assist Ferguson, in the event the romor was false; and should it torn out that Ferguson was actually killed and his army annihilated, to prevent the victorious Americans from descending into Sotfth Carolina. The Wbigs in the region of'Charlotte were fully apprised of the fact, and despatches were sent to Congress from Rocky river, beyond Charlotte, on the tenth of October; but Lord Corowallis, up to this time,wts is donbt res* peering the battle. [For an account of the battle of King's Mountain see Enquirer of January 6th and 13th, 1876.] On the tenth of October, Tarleton set out to learn the destiny of Ferguson. His force consisted of his own command, which was made up of a legion of cavalry, and a number of light infantry. On this occasion, as # often before, a three pounder was added. The force was, at the same rime, infantry and cavalry, with a small detachment of artillery. On the tenth of October, Tarleton with his force, set out in the direction of the mountain region west of the Catawba. At Smith's a t__.? i li? T:**U iora, oeiow me juuuuuu ui uiiiuo v?k.t.v,? with the main river, he learned with absolute certainty "the melancholy fate of Major Ferguson." The sad news was at once forwarded to Charleston. Already Tarleton saw that the tide of fortune had changed. At Wright's ferry, (then Bigger's,) he crossed the Catawba and pressed forward, on what we now call the Charlotte road, in the direction of Yorkville. On the eleventh, he arrived in the neighborhood of Robert 'Cairnes' mill on Turkey creek, in York county. Colonels Lacey and Hill were encamped, at the same time, with Sumter's army on Bullock's creek. The British and American forces were only a few miles apart. During the absenoe of Tarleton, Ccrnwallis having learned the particulars of the battle of King's Mountain, determined to fall back. In other words, he found out that the Whigs would not suffer him to advance. On the fourteenth, his Lordship broke up camp and left Charlotte. On the sixteenth, Tarleton was ordered to join Cornwallis at the Nation ford. No American can be absolutely indifferent to the events which transpired during the Revolutionary war. Wherever the British went, events took place which are interesting to every American ; but they are deeply interesting to those residing in the region in which these events transpired. Doring the Revolutionary war there was no such place as Yorkville. The ground was then covered with native forest. The crossstreet near the Court House was a stand for deer-hunters. A man by the name of Henderson regarded it as a favorable place to kill a deer. Much of the ground upon which the town of Yorkville now stands was a kind of I twts -1 t J? / TTT T swamp, w nere me oouse 01 tt . x. vmwsuu, Esq. is situated, was a huckleberry pood, and where the Enquirer office stands a maple swamp. No Utfdttn through the town. The Charlottej^Hnoed to the right, at Dobson's, twj^pmes from town, and pained through the plantation of Thomas W. Clawson. A road Teadiog from the Crowder'a creek settlement passed through the eastern edge of where the town stands. The traces of it oan be seen between the present Charlotte and Lincoln roads on the plantation of Georro H. O'Leary. It ran near by the gate of Bichard J. Withers, through the lot of W. B. Steele, and near the residence of J. A. Batchford, two miles from town. We have in our possession a petition directed to William Wynn, the King's commissioner at Bocky Mount, Tryon county, North Carolina, asking his excellency to grant permission to open a road from Matthew Bigger's, on Catawba, to Talipot's ferry on Broad river. This document is dated April the 21st, 1772. On the 9th of August, of the same year, the petition was granted by Wil- * liam Wynn. Evidently the part of this road, which was east of the present town of Yorkville, was what is now called the Charlotte road. Talbot's ferry was twenty miles above Fishdam ferry. Whether the road ?? ? *V.;. tima nn nnt at a era nnnhlp WOO uyGUCU Olt vuio mmv vi uwy nw wiv ? ??? * w to say positively. We think, however, it was not; for on the 28th of March, 1778, the General Assembly of South Carolina passed a law establishing a ferry on Matthew Big ger's land on the Catawba, and opening a road from the ferry to Talbot's ferry on Broad river. This is the same road for the opening of which a petition was sent, six years before, to William Wynn. ? ? The Nation ford road ran about two miles sooth of the site of Yorkville. It passed by the residences of A. J. Davinney and J. T. Lowry, out into what is now called the Pinckney road at taker's old field. The only house within the present corporate limits of Yorkville, at the time of the Revolutionarv war. stood neaf the King's Mountain road in the north-wee tern corner of the lot on which stands the .King's Mountain Military School. A largSfc&fckory marks the place. The first settler was a man by the name of Matthew Dickson. On the lot now occupied by Edgar P. Williams, Matthew Dickson kept a store, in which he and a relation sold whisky, treacle, (molasses,) salt, delf and other useful articles. Matthew Dickson came to the region with the Crowder's creek Scoth-Irish emigrants, perhaps before Braddock's defeat. He married a Miss Carson, a relative of the Carsons in the neighborhood of Pisgah church in the lower edge of Gaston county, North Carolina. The marriage of Matthew Dickson and Miss Carson took place in Gettysburg. When Tarleton and his men passed from Bigger's ferry to Cairns' (then Ross') mill, they went near by the house of Matthew Dickson, who was with Sumter's army. Mrs. Dickson was at home. They had several negroes. Two of the negro men left their families and followed the British. Mrs. Dickson, when she heard that Tarleton was at the Nation ford, set out to recover the negro men. She rode one horse and led another, causing a negro woman to do the same thing. The led horses were for the negro men to ride back on. When she arrived at the British camp, she made known the object of her visit. Tarleton told her that her negroes were in camp, but remarked, "you have four fine hnroAfl T think the beat thin? vou can do is to return; for if you remain liere long you will have to walk home." The good woman, anxious to save her horses, took his advice and returned, leaving the negro men with the British. When she returned home she her husband at home, and on consultation * was determined by them to abandon their % present abode and go to Salisbury. Both of them thought that the region in which they lived would be for a long time the seat of the war. From Salisbury, Matthew Dickson and family went beyond Broad river, 8outh Car* olina, and settled on Six-and-Twenty creek in Pendleton district, about six miles from old Pendleton Court House. One reason he gave for not coming back from Salisbury to his lands in York, was that having heard that the town lands joined his, he thought it would be impossible to raise his boys right so near a little village. Matthew Dickson owned the lands west of the Lincoln road as far as the present corporate limits of the town. On the sonth they were bounded by a line running a short distance south of the old male academy; on the north they extended as fhr as the Murphr branch. Mathew Dickson having abandoned miaaa -W? . TMJMA Miroe lamia, iuvj woic vaacu up uj ' tiuupi William 8mith, and from bins pawed through several bands into the possession of the present owners. Many of the descendants of Matthew Dickaott are living in Anderson county. It is worthy of note that tfraBaas, on Turkey creek, at Whose place: Tarleton lay in camp for several days, wae the grand-father of Dr. J?. M. -Boss' of Yorkvitta Col. Boss was a gallant officer and fonght bravely at Brier creek, at which place he was killed by the Indians,. V"