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ije wis m. grist, proprietor, Jniiejpflirot Ifantilg ftetos pper: Jinr % promotion of tjre political, Social, Hgriattoral anb Conratertial Interests of % Sont|. TEBM8?$3.00 A TEAR, IN ADVANCE. VOL. 23. ~~ YORKYILLE, S. O., THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 1. 1877. 3STO. 5. fdftrg. * ? ? THE SNOW STOKM. BY WHO. The earth is frozen hard and deep, And the north-wind goes hissing by O'er land and sea, with mighty sweep The billows tossing to the sky. The heavens wear a sombre hue, That thicker grows and darker fast, As the soft snow whirls out to view, And soon upon the earth is cast. "Us beautiful?the falling snowAs it descends so pure and white; A mantle robe for all below, More radiant than the dazzling light. But seel the prattling rills are dumb, Fast fettered by an icy chain, And can no longer onward run, Leaping with joy unto the main. And hark 1 crouch'd, shiv'ring in each thorn, The birds sit chirping all the day, As if praying the piercing storm In mercy soon would pass away. But heedless quite, it rushes on, Striving hard to increase its rage, And show to all its bitter scorn, That none may try its wrath to suage. All living things for shelter flee Before the rushing tempest's blast, That shakes the earth ana rocks the sea. And blows as if 'twould blow its last. Bat rage, and bowl, and spit yonr spite, ^ And do your utmost to destroy, r The weak can well defy thy might, If God for them His power employ. Soon, peering through the clouds shall shine The sun, and with his genial glow, Unbind the brooks, and make them chime Like* marriage bells, as on they flow. Tbehlue bird, robin and the wren, The first sweet messengers of spring, Will come again where they have been, And feed with joy, and build and sing. Then, too, the trees in living green, Will put new robes of glory on, And everywhere sweet flow'rs be seen To cheer the earth that they adorn. And gamboling flocks, and lowing herd, Shall thickly crowd each grassy mead; And show how deep their hearts are stirr'd, As all in love together feed. Why, then, despond, or doubt, or fear,. Though all, be dark and drear without? A brighter day will yet appear, And time shall bring tne change about. 'Tis wise to keep the future full Of strong, bright faith and ardent hope; When all seems sad, and bleak and dull, And we our way through darkness grope. 'Tis right and brave to persevere, And keep moving, though it be slow, 1111 day shall dawn and light appear, nrv>?? shall Rome TIO more 1 Tf uoic nuiwi w*w? w? , ? ?be Jforg ?eller. "KATE KENNEDY'S GHOST. BY MBS. HENRY DBAS. CHAPTER X. The Earl commenced his narrative, withou farther preamble, as follows: "A number of years ago, when I was quit a young fellow, I went, one autumn, to pay visit to a distant connection of our family, minister, who resided in Scotland. I wen there principally with the object of grous< shooting, in company with two of my friendi We were all hospitably received by the minli ter and his wife, good-hearted country folki who exerted themselves to the utmost to roak our"stay enjoyablfi. It was about a week a! ter our arrival that I unexpectedly becam acquainted with a young girl residing in th neighborhood. I met her one afternooi walking alone in the vicinity of the mansi She was a protighe of the minister's?bis wife god-child, I think?and was frequently ? ? their house. She had, on this occasion, bee ^ paying one of her usual visits there, and wa now on her way home. I bad seen her one before, when McGregor?that was one of m friends?and I were out together, and ha been struck by her beauty and lady-like aj pearance, but had not spoken to her on tha occasion. Now, however, I took advant8g of the opportunity, and made some pretext fo joining her, introducing myself at the sam time. She was very shy at first, and seeme anxious to gee rid of me; but I fancied tha she was pleased at my notice too, and tha encouraged me to follow up my first rathe bold move. I did not suffer from excessiv modesty in those days. It is needless to de tail the manner in which, step by step, I grad ually established an intimacy between as; am *1 got to be fond of the pretty young thing She was an artless, affectionate creature, a transparent in her nature as sunlight, am soon I discovered that I had quite won he heart. I must confess that I was slightl dismayed when this knowledge dawned upoi me, for at first I had not contemplated goinj so far. Of course I knew that a marriage b? ^ tween ns would be incongruous, and woqj (moreover cause serious displeasure at hora< I was conscious, in fact, of its being a foolis affair altogether, but having got entangled i it I did not see how I could get out. Beside: J as I said before, I really was in love with bei and as long as I was with her I felt ready t do almost anything for her sake. "I considered it advisable to keep oar int macy, and indeed our acquaintanceship, a s< cret from the people around there, and I pr< ailed on ber to do the same. Poor child I 1 would have been better for her if they h^ found it out and pat a stop to it at once The truth was, I felt pulled two ways. I care enough about her to make her my wife, but was not bold enough to brave the consequet ces that would result froi^uch a step. I ha no fortune of my own, but I had expectatioc in the quarter of a rich uncle, which I feare to throw away, and I foresaw that I was mor than likely to forfeit these if I married so fa beneath me. I thought to make compr< mise, and persuade her into a secret marriag trusting to time to bring aboutyf favorabl m result. I could not explain all this to he but I told her that my people at home ha formed other plans for me, and vould no dout be disappointed at my failing to carry thei out; but that I was sure when once they can to know her they would be reconciled to 01 marriage, and that all would then be wel If she bad more readily yielded to ray argi meats, I believe I should have been less eari est :n persuading1 her; but she resisted i first, being very averse to take any rash ( clandestine step, and this piqued my pric and strengthened my determination to ha\ my way. And she loved me?poor litt Katie, she made no efWrt to concval her love "And you loved her," said Geraldine, in low tone. "I did, at the time, with all my heart. We] I urged my plans upon her, and persuade and argued, and worked upon her feeling until I won her consent. The end of tl matter was, that after a few weeks' absenc during which I was definitely arranging n mode of action, I returned privately to tl ineighborhood, met her at the appointed tin And place, and we went off together." "And were married ?" "Certainly not. Did X not say to you, short while a$o, that I only believed her to be dead ? If I had married her, and had not ? now the assurance of her death, how could I have ventured to form another tie ?" < "True?I beg your pardon," murmured i Geraldine; "at the moment, I forgot." < "I had arranged everything for our mar- J riage, at a certain spot on the Scottish border, ; where a friend, in whom I confided, was to 1 meet me and assist me in carrying out. my 1 plan. We reached there in safety, but en- 1 countered an unexpected difficulty. .The cler- 1 gym an, whose offices had been engaged for ( me, had been summoned away to visit a dying ' person, at a considerable distance off, and ] there* was none other in the place. I bad ^ just learned this, when another piece of news * met me?my father was dangerously ill and < impatient for my return. I knew not how to ' nnf tnlrp TTfttia with me. I ] ' AWIf* A vy UiU UVH VWMW 4 ? ? , ? could not leave her, unprotected, in a strange place. I could not send her back home, and duty urged me to join my father without delay. I owned, and still own, a small, retired ] place, in Essex, whither it had been my intention to carry my bride. There was a little cottage there large enough to make us a temporary abode, and here I meant to establish her, while under the necessity of keeping our union a secret, placing her in the care of a respectable elderly woman, whom I had engaged as housekeeper, and who was already settled at he* post. "While I was revolving in my mind the dilemma in which I was placed, my friend, who knew of my former arrangements, proposed to me a scheme which, if I would consent to it, would assist in solving the difficulty. He offered to escort Katie to Essex and place her under the housekeeper's care, where she would be quite sa? until I could join her, which in a few days I would probably be able to do. Now I had the. utmoit confidence in the honor and .integrity of this man, and I caught eagerly at his proposal, which I at once imparted to Katie, assuring her that it was the best, and, indeed, only means of extricating ourselves from our unfortunate scrape. I solemnly promised to join her at the earliest j possible opportunity, and to bring with me, when I came, a clergyman who would make us man and wife. The poor girl was so bewil dered and distressed, so worn out by our rapid journey, and so utterly unable, irom ner neip- * lesaness and inexperience, to decide-upon anything for herself, that she meekly agreed to do whatever I might think proper, putting . as she did, unquestioning faith in my judgment" G The Earl paused here for a moment, perhaps to recover from some softened emotion a which this memory stirred up within him. |t Geraldine sat silent and motionless, her eyes h fixed upon the fire, her 'face expressionless L and pale. She, too, had slumbering memories within her breast, which were brought in} to play as her thoughts were carried back to g those for off days?memories connected with p. the Earl himself, but in which he seemed to bear no conscious part I e "We therefore," continued the narrator ] with a little sigh, "decided upon this plan; 5 and placing Katie in my friend's charge, I >g bade her adieu and turned out of ray intended course in order to proceed immediately to D town-, where my father was at that time staya ing. If I had had the faintest conception of 3 the true character of the individual in whom y I placed such blind trust, no earthly considd eration would have induced me to confide h that innocent child to his perfidious keeping! ^ Geraldine, he was a traitor?a scoundrel of e the deepest, darkest dye."r "Did he,then, betray his trust?" she asked, e "You shall hear. I went on to London, d joined my father, who was already recovering from bis alarming attack; and* seeing him ,t fairly convalescent, as soon as I could make a x decent excuse for again leaving him, I started e off once more for my little Essex home, h "As I approached the house, I thought that I- it looked strangely lonely and deserted. No d signs of life were anywhere visible. What if ;. some iccident had happened to Katie on the s journey, and she had never reached her destid nation ? With a heart beating with apprer hension, I pushed open the door, which was y unlocked, and entered the hall. Here, I imn mediately found a token of Katie's presence, g in the shape of a large straw hat hanging 1 5- against the wall. I once more breathed freed ly. She was here, then, after all. I called 3. her name loudly, but she did not answer. I h opened every door, looked into every habitan ble room, but neither she nor the housekeeper i, could be found. I then concluded that they . r, must have gone out together for a little stroll, o and was about to go in quest of them, when a smothered groan fell upon my ear. I stopped, j. terrified, and listened. The groan was re}. peated. It came, apparently, from a cloeet at i-1 the farther end of the hall, which I had not t thought of entering. I rushed forward, and ( d tried to open the door, but it was locked, aod ' 'j the key was nowhere visible. It did not re- ' d quire any great effort of strength, however, to ' I force the lock, which I speedily, did, and en- 1 i. tering, I saw a pitiful sight. Poor old Mrs. d Graves, the housekeeper, lay stretched on the 1 is bare floor of this small, dark room, where d there was no furniture or convenience of any ( e kind, apparently, almost in the agonies of ' ir death. Her face was livid, her eyes were 1 >. sunken, and rolling wildly in their sockets, 1 e, and black lines were about her mouth. Im- ' le agine the astonishment and alarm I felt! I ' r, immediately lifted her from the floor, carried d her to a sofa in the next room, and did what >t I could to restore her. It seemed to me that 31 she must have been taken with a fit, cr someie thing of that sort, and I poured some brandy, ir which I had in a flask in my pocket, down her 1. throat, not knowing, fn my ignorance, what j- other remedy to apply. The poor old soul a- was, in a measure, restored by the dose, and, it after a time, I was able to gather from her a >r disconnected account of what had occurred." le Lord Desborougb paused again. A dark re cloud had gathered on his brow, and the le workings of his countenance betrayed the agitation he felt. Geraldine, her interest now a painfully aroused, listened almost breathlessly to hear what was coming next. 11, "She told me," continued the Earl, presentd, ly; in a low, stern voice, "that Katie had, rajs, deed, arrived there safely, under the escort of ie the fieud to whose care I had so madly eue, trusted her. That she had appeared tired ly and nervous, but otherwise well, and that for ie the first day everything seemed to go smoothie ly. The man?ber so-called protector?asserted his intention of remaiuing at the cottage until ray arrival, preteudiug that such a had been my expressed wish, though I had pot expected, or desired, anything of th< kind. "On the second afternoon, Katie, who, poo child, had been crying nearly all day, an< seemed dreadfully unhappy, came to Mrs Graves and asked if she thought she migh go out for a little walk, it was so dull ant lonely in the house. ThehouBe-keeper seeing nothing wrong in the request, of course read tly agreed to it, and Katie having put on he: hat and gone out, she thought no more of thi matter, until, about & half hour later, a lout cry in the direction of the orchard Btartlet her. She ran to the door, and presently es pied Katie running toward the house with 2 Pace of terror, and apparently in great dis tress. No one else was in sight. As she per jeived Mrs. Graves she exclaimed, breathless ly, 'Oh, Mrs. liraves, don't let him come neai me!' and when she got inside the .door sb< threw herself down, crying and wringing hei aanda, and begging to be sent home to hei mother. It Beemed that the villain, whom aame I will not mention, had met her in th< jrchard, and had dared to offer her some in lult, taking advantage of her unprotected sit nation, and supposing, probably, that he coulc make free with a girl whom he considered s< iar his inferior; but on her crying oat he hac ;urned off and left her, and she did not know vhere he now was. The housekeeper soothec aer, and tried to make light of what had oc :urred, saying that, no doubt, he was a wile foung gentleman, who didn't think it was anj larm to kiss a pretty girl when he had tb< jbance, and so on.< But Katie's mo hac seen terribly outraged by his impertinence ind it seemed impossible for her to be cob loled. "Well, somehow this blew over. The fel ow himself came in private to Mrs. Graves md explained to her that he had only meant t for a little joke, and begged her to tell Ea ,ie bow sorry be was for having offended her ind that he would be very careful not to d( mything of the sort again/ In short, as th< )ld woman expressed it, "he spoke so fair h< juite threw dust in her eyes," and she believed ivery word he said. Still, having found oui lis bold character, she said she thought il lest to keep Katie strictly under her eye vbich she did, until ODe unlucky afternoon vhen, being in want of some necessary house lold article, she was obliged to go to th< learest village, some three miles off, to pro Hire it. "Whether during her absence, Katie, of he: >wn free will, bad left the house, er this wretcl lad enticed her out, she could not tell; bui vhen she returned, neither of them were any vhere to be found. Immediately fearing thai lometj^ing was wrong, she hurried off to searct ,he grounds. A little way from the door sh< licked up Katie's scarf, and still farther 01 ler hat, which the wind was blowing aboui iver the grass. Suddenly she perceived th< nan coming toward her. He looked dreadful y excited, and she saw directly that some hing had happened, and rushing up to hin >alra/4 kim arkiAra PTnt.io was ? TnRfPftd nf Oriv g her a satisfactory answer he swore at her laying that it was no business of hers, anc hat she had better leave him alone. Thei ihe cried out, "0, you villain, you've don< tome wrong to that poor girl, as sure as J ive; but Mr. Mortimer shall know ol'it, anc ie'11 call you to account." She had scarce!) jttered the words when he flew at her like t vild beast and seized her by the throat; sh< ainted away, and knew nothing more unti she found herself lying on the floor in th< floset, where he must have dragged her and ocked her in. She said that he must have learly strangled her, for her sufferings 01 coming to were intense, and she swooned sev jral times afterward. She could not help her self in any way, and must have died of star nation had I*not arrived in time to save hei ife. Whether all this had happened twe lays or more before I came, Bhe was unable t( -ell, but she was sure it was at least as long is that. As to the scoundrel himself, he hac lisappeared, and no trace of him could b( ound, then pr afterwards, though the strictest possible search was made." CHAPTER XI. "Do you think then that he had killed her?' tsked Geraldine, in an awe-struck tone. "God only knows. It seems too likely thai mcb was the case," rejoined the Earl. "Oth jrwise, it was strange that she, too, had so jompletely disappeared. If she had been any vhere in hiding, she must certainly have beec found. I was so terribly shaken by this un tooked for termination of my plans, that affcei irying every means to have the affair cleared jp, and finding them all unsuccessful, I weni ibroad, and remained several years, not being ?ble in any degree to recover my peace o mind at home. As far as that goes," he ad led, sighiug, "I have not yet recovered it, noi lo I expect ever to do so. For I cannot but feel that I have the guilt of that poor inno cent girl's unhappy end in a great measure or my own shoulders." "Did W parents ever know?" asked Ger ildine, after a pause. Lord Desborough shook his bead. "I raus confess that in that respect I behaved like t coward," he replied. "I could not make u| my mind to tell them about it. I heard, af ter my return to England, that they were botl lead. But some of the family?some broth ers, I believe?are still living. I have nevei visited that Dart of Scotland since." He looked so unhappy,.as he sat brooding in the silence which followed, over the recol lection of that dark episode, that Geraldim longed to comfort him. How readily, if shi had dared, would she have spoken words o tenderness, of consolation?yes, reader, evei to him; for in her heart, no longer passion less and cold, an unutterable yearning ha( been awakened, strengthening with each day each hour of her life. But he, still calrah distant, or, at best kind, merely with th< kindness of a friend, as he professed hirasel to be, gave her no encouragement to exprea her feelings, which she would have died rath er than betray. The Earl had, while speaking, mechanical ly retained her hand in his. He now gentl; put it aside, and rising from his seat, walket to the window and drew the curtain back. "How itstorm8!" he said, looking out. "1 dreary night, indeed, for poor Katie's ghost t 'walk,' as the Scottish people say, if so, indeed it does." "Do not speak of that again," said Geral dine, shuddering. "Its brings all my foolis! terror back." "It was wrong of me," rejoined the Ear e coming again to her. side. "Let me advise 4 you, Geraldine, to have Meredith in your i r room to-night It will make you feel more 1 1 secure to know that yon are not alone. But i i. now, let me tell you of something which is in t t my mind. Do yon know that since you have i 1 told me of your experience to-night, and also t I on that first occasion, and I have coupled it with my own, I am moved, by a very strong i r impulse, to go to my place in Essex and s 9 make another desperate search for some clue 1 1 to Katie's fate ?" i 1 "After all these years I It would be use- i - less," she replied. 1 i "I am not sure of that It seems to me e that these manifestations?visitations?what- c ever we may term them?must be Bent to us r with Borne special object The vision, on each t r occasion of its appearance, has been in the s 3 attitude of beckoning or pointing toward the c r door, as if signaling us to follow it out When 1 r it did not appear, and we simply felt its pres- 1 3 ence, it signified the same desire. Did it not c 3 bid vou three times-to 'come,' and did yon i - not feel its band V , "Yes," interrupted Geraldine, in an agita' ted voice, "but if you knew what a horrible } sensation the very remembrance causes I II 1 me? ' "I would not recall it? Well, again, L must sue for your pardon. But I thought you were too strong-minded a woman, Geraldine, to allow yourself to be so entirely overcome." 3 "I do not pretend to be strong-minded, my lord. I find, in fact, that I am very weak' minded?in more respects than one." "I have yet to discover that," said the Earl. "However, as I-was saying, I have conceived a strong desire to go to Essex and see what ' I can do there. My only difficulty is?leavi ing you here alone." "That difficulty could be obviated," said ' Geraldine, timidly, "but in a way, it is true, } which you might not find agreeable." * "And what is that, may I ask ?" 5 "By allowing md to accompany you." "Allowing you! I should be extremely ^ glad of your companionship,"- said Lord " Desborough, cordially. "But I did not pro? pose such a scheme, knowing how many dif? ficulties are in the way. For one thing alone, the house there now is barely habitable." 5 "I could make it more comfortable for you, my lord." "Nay, Geraldine, if it is on my account ^ that you wish to go?" ' "It is not on your account alone, or even 8 chiefly, that I wish it," said Geraldine, quick' ly. "The truth is* I do not care to remain 8 here alone. But if you object to my accom- 1 pauying you, I could, of course, go to my f mother's house, and remain there until your 8 return." "Heaven forbid," hastily exclain^ed the ' Earl. "Excuse me, Geraldine, I do not mean anything disrespectful?but unless you have 1 a particular desire to see your mother again already, I do not see the necessity for you to r pay her a visit so soon. Gome with me, by . all means, if you are not afraid of the incon* 1 veniences of the trip. As I said before, I 8 shall be only too glad of your society." Geraldine was secretly oveijoyed at this c permission, which waB too readily given to allow her to feel any reluctance to proht by I it. Not for worlds would she have remained without her husband's protection in this "haunted house," as she now considered it to 1 be, and she was almost equally averse to the 8 idea of returning, even temporarily,,to her ' former home, though she had herself proposed to do so. c "When will you start ?" she asked. atf A _ ? ? ? ? "An A?? " vonlSo/) ? "A8 BUU1J OS JTUU VQU gcfc 1L1WIJ, lufjuvu " the Earl. "I can be ready at any moment; to-mor- * row, if you wish it, and at as early an hour ) as you please. How long do you propose to | stay ?" C | "That must depend upon circumstances. ^ I may remain but a few days; I may be de3 tained much longer. Our best plan will be tl ' to carry a sufficient wardrobe for a week, and if^we find that we are obliged to prolong our ^ stay, we can send back home for whatever else we need. I fear, however, that it will be hurrying you too much to set off as early as to-morrow morning." , "By no means. Meredith oan put up my k things easily to-night. She will not, of course, a " go with us ?" 1 "Why not ? You can not dispense^ with " her services." 1 Geraldine smiled. "You forget, my lord, jj ' how many years I have played lady's maid for myself," she rejoined. "At home, I was ^ ' quite unaccustomed to be waited upon, and ^ t will find no difficulty in resuming my old > habits. It appears to me that Meredith, on f such an excursion, would be rather a useless * appendage." _ r "Perhaps you are right," said the Earl. a "You will, however, need some one about you to keep the house comfortable, for we can de- t 1 pend on only rough country help out there. ^ I ahall take dudson witn us?ne can turn ma j ' band, on occasion, to almost anything ; and I g think that one of the younger servants?that ? t nice-looking girl who assists to keep your 1 rooms in order, for instance?would be your } best choice." * . "You mean Alice. Yes, she will do very 1 well, I think. Well, since that is settled, and t ' it is already late, I suppose I had better not I r sit up any longer, so I will bid you good- * night," said Geraldine, rising, not without re- 1 , luctance, for her timid feeliDgs had by no [ * means been dispelled. The Earl, as usual, i 3 lighted her up-stairs. As they traversed the I e corridor a gust of wind, entering through a ( f window carelessly left open, blew out the cani die, leaving them in total darkness. To Ger- -f - aldine's excited fancy it appeared that she j 1 heard footsteps behind them, and with an in- ? , voluntary exclamation of terror she seized her t 7 husband's hand. ' 8 2 "JLJe calm, lieraidine, saia trie ?>ari, iu a ^ soothing toue, as he passed his arm gently 3 around her trembling form. "There is noth* ing here to hurt you?with me you are safe." Supporting her thus, he guided her through the darkness to her own door. Within, a bright Y light and a cheerful fire burned, and by the 1 fire sat Meredith, patiently waiting to attend her. I "How foolish you must think me," said ' o Geraldine, vexed at her own weakness, as he I, opened the door for her. "I cannot tell what has come over me this evening. I do not re member ever being so childish before." b "I cannot blame 'you," replied the Earl, "after the shock youn nerves received awhile [, ago. Remember," he added, in a lower tone, 'that if anything farther occurs to startle 'ou, I shall be within call. Take my advice, lowever, and have Meredith near by. Goodlight, now, and try to banish^all uneasy bought*. I trust you will rest undisturbed intil morning." He pressed her hand kindly, ind was gone. In spite of all her efforts, Geraldine could iot.8leep. Long after she bad retired to bed he tossed and turned uneasily on her pillow, ter overstrung nerves painfully on the alert, rhile her unconscious Abigail snored peaceully in the adjoining apartment, where, at ler mistress' desire, she had settled herself on i couch for the night. Hour after hour ihimed, and still in vain did Geraldine court epose. At last a sound fell distinctly, unmisakably, upon her ear?the sound of footteps, measured and regular, softly pacing the lorridor outside. She sat up in bed, pressing ler hand to her beating, heart, and listened, ifes, it was certainly not imagination. Some tne, or something, waswalking there. What vasit? What could it be? She was about o call for Meredith, bnt checked herself. Vfter all, what good could tht do her ? After lesitating for a short time, she determined to ise and find oat whence the sound proceeded. Anything was better than lying there, or siting up, and listening to that mysterious pace, >ace, which, after all, was not likely to be a piritual tread, since spirits were noiseless in heir movements?at least, so her experience lad taught her. She rose hastily, lest her esolution might fail her, threw on a silk wrapper that lay at hand, and lighting a canlie, softly opened her door and looked out. 1 faint glimmer, proceeding from a cross pasage near by, attracted her thither, and as she ipproached it the footsteps sounded still more ilainly. She paused, irresolute. Gould it be lossible that a thief had made his way into hehouse? But no thief would spend his ime marching up and down the passage wayB, iven were it possible for one to force his enrance through the seeurejy fastened doors >elow. As she stood uncertain whether or i tot to go on, a figure suddenly appeared at he corner where the larger and smaller coridors crossed at right angles. It was Lord 3esborough himself, who, arrayed in dressing;own and slippers, was slowly pacing to and 1 ro, by the light of a shaded lamp, placed on i table at some distance off. As he perceived her, he came forward 1 [uickly to meet her, while an exclamation of stonishmentjrose to her lips. "Geraldine, is ' my thing the matter V' he eagerly asked. "Nothing, except that I heard footsteps, 1 ,nd came to find ont whose they were," she 1 eplied, more relieved than she could ex- 1 iress. "But why are you here, my lord, at 1 uch an hour?" 1 "I feared you might be disturbed, and 1 rould not go to my room," said the Earl. 1 Do you not remember that I promised to renain within call, should you need me?" "Surely," rejoined Geraldine, "you have : tot been in this passage all night?" "Yes, I have spent my time partly in walk- 1 ng up and down, partly in lounging on that 1 ofa yonder; but I felt not the slightest incli- 1 lation to sleep. Had I known that my steps ' listurbed you, I should not have moved a>out at all, but I fancied that with my slip- 1 >ers on you could not hear me." 1 Geraldine, greatly touched by this proof of lis consideration, could scarcely frame a re-11 >ly. "I do not know bow to tbaok you," she aid, in a low tone, "or express my appreciaiod of your kindness. I only regret having teen tbe cause of your suffering so mucb in- 1 lonvenionce." "It was'no such terrible inconvenience," he inswered, smiling. "I was quite willing to ose a night's rest, with such an object in 1 riew. But it is not wise in you to stand so 1 ong in this chilly passage, Geraldine, lightly 1 lad as you are. Go back to your room at ' ince, or you will surely take cold." He spoke with authority, but she lingered j t moment longer. "I entreat you to go also 1 ,nd take some rest," she exclaimed, earnestly. 'To-morrow you are going on a journey, and ' rill be quite worn out. I shall be really unlappy if you remain up any longer on my acount." ' Something in her look and tone?an invol- ! intary softening of tbe one, a tremor in the ither?struck him. He looked fixedly at her ,nd seemed as though on the point of making ome earnest reply, but checked himself as he words rose to bis lips. "Do not be unhappy, then," he said, in a wnflft vntftfl. "I will do as vou wish, though ' ' assure you I am oot at all the worse for my 1 rigil. ^ :ce more, good-night, and sleep well intil morning. You need not rise earlier han usual, as we shall not set eut before nine t'olock." 1 Geraldine accepted this as ber dismissal, ind with a murmured "good-night," slowly re- ' urned to her room, where, having again ought her pillow, she presently fell asleep, ind slumbered undisturbed until it was time o rise. The morning dawned clear and >right, and at the appointed hour they set off n a traveling carriage with Judson, the valet, ind Alice, the little chambermaid, in attenlance on their journey. i [to be continued.] Spoiled His Piety.?Horace Greeley used o affirm that newspaper men were the most >atient people, as a class, on earth ; and he vas not far from right, though there are times vhen patience ceases to be a virtue with the nost enduring. Nearly everybody in Michi- , ;an knows Burr, who used to gtart a newspa>er about once a month the year round, genirally bringing them out in Grand Rapids, , /i .! i )ut sometimes maxing a nyiug trip 10 utuer mints. Burr could stand to be told that he 1 ied about circulation, was on the fence as a 1 politician, and that be didn't know anything ibout publishing a paper; and when men i hreatened to sue or thrash him, he only < imiled a sad smile and wished that mankind | vouldn't get excited. During a religious rerival in Grand Rapids, Burr was converted, md it frequently happened that religious peo)ie called at his office to talk with him. One ' lay a minister came in, and after talking a vhile, he proposed prayer. He was in the ' ict of kneeling, when his foot struck one of ( he outside forms, which was leaning against ( i leg of the stone, ready to be lifted up, and >ver it went, making half a bushel of pi. Burr looked at the ruin wrought, thought of he two weeks of overwork, and commenced 1 aking off his coat, sayiDg: "I'm trying to be a Christian, and set a , jood example, but rat my buttons if I can't ick you in just two minutes I" The clergyman backed down stairs in no ;ime, dodging the lye brush on the way, and Burr backslid at once, and sent down for a pint of stimulant. pstotg of jr. toota. HISTOEICAL SKETCHES ~ OP THE Early Settlement of South Carolina. BT BEV. BOBEBT LATHAH. THE RETREAT OF GENERAL GREENE. [CONTINUED.] ' \ General Greene was not long in discover- ] ing the intentions of the British Earl. He [ determined to disconcert all his plans and j frustrate all his strategy. When Morgan left i the Cowpens, the forces of Greene were so situated that they could not act with any ] concert. The main force waa on Hicks' cretk, < in Chesterfield county, and Colonel Lee, with ] the main body of cavalry, was sixty miles j below Cheraw, acting in concert with Marion. ] The object which Cornwallis at first had in j view, was to rescue the prisoners captured by ] " i. .1 - n-:i: ,u;. u? . iYiorgau at me v^uwpuus. jcmuug iu tuio, u? next object was to overtake Morgan and destroy his division before it conld be joined' by Huger and Lee. So soon as Greene discovered the condition of things, he ordered Huger, Williams and Lee, to join Morgan either at Charlotte or Salisbury. It was not long before it became evident that this could not be done. Guilford Court House was then appointed as the place at which the several detachments should unite. Apparently, the existence of Greene's army 'depended upon this Onion. On the other hand, the success of the British depended upon keeping the several detachments separate. To form this junction, required everything that is requisite to constitute a military chieftain of the highest rank. Looking at the thing coolly and dispassionately, the chances were all against Greene and in favor of Cornwallis. Nothing but dire, necessity could induce any officer to undertake what Greene undertook. He knew that he was dealing with a general of no ordinary skill and courage. He was fully persuaded that every wrong move on his part would be promptly improved by his enemy. As we have seen, Cornwallis, that he might succeed c in his undertaking, had destroyed, on the 25th i of January, all his superfluous baggage. c Having completed the arrangements for the f advance of Morgan's troope, General Greene c Bet out from the Catawba for Salisbury. A t few miles from Torrence's tavern, he and j Smitb halted, that Gen. Davidson and the mi- a litia might come up. Here, exposed to the f rain and cold, Greene remained until mid- fl ight, when he was informed of Davidson's t death and the rout of the militia at Torrenhe's 1 tavern. Had Tarleton only known where ? Greene was, with a few men he could. have captured him and thus blasted all the plans ] of the Southern army. So soon as Greene *] learned the actual condition of things with f the North Carolina militia, he set out at once v for Salisbury. 8 ^HHere he arrived some time between mid- ]( night and. day-break. Cold and wet, hungry Q and benumbed, disappointed and distressed in r spirits, he went to a tavern kept by Elizabeth p Steele. Dr. William Head, a surgeon in the c American army, was at this time quartered \ in Salisbury. General Greene immediately ^ sent for him. Read arose from his bed, and c having hastily dressed, went at once to meet ^ TTT? ,| _ A A T>. .J !iL ijreene. w Den iq? iwo met, amu, wim m- a tense anxiety, inquired what was the matter. j "Sir," said Greene, "I am here alone. I am *c worn out with fatigue. I am hungry and I a am without a cent of money." ^ These words were heard by Mrs. Steele, and f it was not long until breakfast was brought t into his room. While General Greene was G eating his breakfast, his patriotic hostess en- G tered the room with a small bag of specie in ? each band. This money, the earnings of sev- 8 eral years,, was delivered to her guest. At f Bret he refused to receive it, but Mrs. Steele forced it upon him, saying, "take it; you need G it, and I can get along without it." t In the room in which General Greene was g breakfasting, there hung a portrait of the l King of England. Greene took it down and o wrote upon the back these words: "0, George, ]( bide thy face and mourn;" and then hung the ^ portrait up again with the faee turned to the ( wall. j General Greene having learned, immediate- G ly before his arrival at Salisbury, that the ( ? tf !iL .11 ! britisb were pursuing morgan, who an poeoi- > ble speed sent bis aids and other attendants to g bear dispatches to the different detachments f of the Southern army. Some were sent to assist Huger, Williams and Lee in joining { Morgan, and others were sent to Morgan to d Inform him of the movements of the British, p The news of Davidson's death, the disper- Q sion of the militia and the advance of the J British, was known in Salisbury by a certain 7 olass of citizens before Greene arrived. A r plundering party, probably part British and t part tories, bad that night, but a short time ' before General Greene's arrival, entered the * town and plundered the houses of several of | the citizens. Evidently, it was not prudent j for Greene to remain long in a place where g he might be captured at any moment Mor- r gan's corps?at least a portion of it?soon passed through the town, and Greene followed r it. Many of the Whigs in the surrounding | country abandoned their homes, and with ^ their wives and children, followed Morgan.' E ? ' * f . * il _ t j _ During tne day ana nigni 01 me secoua ui v February, Morgan crossed the Yadkin at ' Trading or Island ford. The horses forded; * the army baggage was transported in flats. Some of the wagons belonging to the country g people, together with a number of citizens, j were still on the westside of the Yadkin. For t more than ten days it had been almost con- t stantly raining. The streams were all flush F and in a condition to be rendered impassable v by even a moderate rain. When Morgan's j forces left Salisbury, it was raining hard. n Greene knew that the Yadkin would soon be *] brim full. Hence bis push to cross. On the o night of the second of February, Earl Corn- o wallis, with the royal army, camped in Salis- a bury. The headquarters of the British Earl was in the house of Dr. Anthony Newman, li This gentleman, although a genuine Whig, h dispensed a generous hospitality to the invading foe. Here an incident occurred which will serve to illustrate the spirit of the times. The two little sons of Dr. Newman were g engaged in "playing war." Their forces were s represented by grains of corn. Part of these corns were red?these represented the Brit- 2 ish ; another part was white?these represen- ^ ted the Americans. The boys had their men ^ and their officers. Prominent among the commanders were Col. Washington and Col. fc Tarleton. The battle in whicb the boys were 11 it this time engaged in playing, was that of ;he Cowpens. Having imbibed the spirit of heir native land, they so marshalled their brcee that the white grains of corn chased ihe red. Then the little fellows, with joyful ihonts, wonld scream at the top of their voices; "Tarleton runs?-hurrah for Waahngton!" Tarleton, who was so unfortunate ts to be present, bore this innocent, but cuting, language, for a time, with becoming diglity. It is the truth, however, that hurts. The rash Englishman, no longer able to bear ;he insult, turned toCordwallis and said, "Do ?uu see those cursed little rebels?" Gornwallis ordered General O'Hara to take lis guards, the regiment of Bose, and the ravalry, and pursue hastily after Morgan.' Ee had been informed by his scouts that Morgan had not yet crossed the Yadkin. The light was dark, the roads bad and it was rainng. The result was that O'Hara did not reach the Trading ford until midnight, and vhen he did arrive, he found that Morgan's * nen, except a small detachment left to guard ;he wagons of the citizens who were following Jie army, were all over the river and the flats ill on the east bank. mi-. A ! A ... .11 . ioe Amennui nrmjr uiweu vu n?u ? ? possible speed toward Guilford Court House. 3n the seventh of February, the whole Amercan army, ineluding Lee's cavalry, arrived it the point which had been designated for a unction. On the next day, the united forces vere mustered and found to be two thousand ind two hundred Of these, five hundred trere militia, and two hundred and seventy fere cavalry. All were in sad condition. Morgan's men had been moving constantly lince the battle of the Cowpens. They, to ivoid Cornwallis, had marched one hundred ind fifty miles over bad roads, crossed by.swolen streams, in twenty days. The forces unler Huger had marched about one hundred niles. The distance traversed gives us no )roper idea of the labor these men encounterid. It was in the dead of winter. The army fagons and army teams were wretohed in the ast degree. The men were all nearly naked; here were but few blankets in either Morgan's >r Hover's come, and no small number of the oen were absolutely "barefooted. The won* ler is that these hungry and naked and bareoo ted soldiers did nqt sink beneath the toils if the maroh and breathe out their lives by he way. The trials and difficulties of the American soldiers, while in winter quarters it Valley Forge, are constantly mentioned as in example of patriotio endurance. Greene's rmy was in a far worse condition, and, yet he men were forced to march night and day; Che road over which they passed was covered vith bloodsvhich ran from their bare-feet Baffled again by an interposition of Divine 'rovidence, Cornwallis called O'Harafrom Crading ford to Salisbury. From documents bund in possession of some of the militia rho had fallen into his hands or been killed ince crossing the Catawba, Cornwallis had earned, with very great accuracy, the plans f General Greene* But for the rains which oade the Yadkin impassable, all Greene's liana would have been blasted. Unable to ross the Yadkin at Trading ford, and onwil*A Mmain inonh'vA (III) Iflt ftrflflTlA MMIM lug (A/ IOUJH1U AUHWVI f V W-v. av?> [oietly beyond his grasp, Cornwallis comaenced bis march on the west side of the river, letermined to continuelt until he would reach , point where the river could be forded. Even u this direction, the way was not entirely pen. The militia of the country had rallied . d destroyed the bridge over Grant's creek. Phis amounted to only a temporary delay; or the bridge was soon repaired and the miliia dispersed. The British army, without oeeting with any other important opposition, Qoved forward and crossed the Yadkin at the ihallow fords, and passed into the Moravian ettlement on the very day that the American orces reached Guilford Court House.' The two armies were now within twenty-five oiles of each other. In respect to numbers, he British was about three hundred the largr, and in every particular, except cavalry torses, better provided for. Cornwallis was m Greene's left, and equally as near the Shalow fords of the Dan. Having failed to preent the junction of Greene's detachments, Cornwallis now determined on forcing the k.merican General to fight. This he knew nnat ha dnnA before Greene crossed the.Dan. Jreene, on the other hand, determined, in dew of the circumstances by which he was urrounded, to make a desperate effort to keep, or the present, oat of the reach of Cornwallis. Never, daring the whole war, bad the afairs of the Sooth been in a more critical conlition. In fact, the resalt of the war was riaeed in a critical condition. If GAene was inly across the Dan, he woald be safe; bat tow was this to be accomplished J All the treams were swollen and Cornwallis was 4 tearer than Greene to points where it was tarely possible to ford the Dan. Cornwallis ras as well prepared to pursue as Greene was o retreat Under the circumstances, Greene tared not risk an engagement. Cornwallis mew thia, and hence having failed in all his trevioas plans, he determined to bring on a ;eneral fight before Greene could reach the iver and cross over into Virginia. The ooantry was filled with distress. Eve* y one that coald leave home, connected hemselves with Greene's army. All the able odied men and boys anions; the Whigs enered the army as militia soldiers. The old sen and old women and little children only rere left at home. This was the case only rhere the peooniary circumstances of the amily would not allow them to do otherwise. Che country was left to the mercy of the toie8 and British. These, in small squads, coured the country, devouring and destroy g every thing within their reach. To avoid heir treacherous cruelty, old men were forced o conceal themselves in thickets. The purK>ae of Cornwallis, when he left Winnsboro, pas to supply his army from the country hrough which he passed. This purpose he iterafiy carried out No requisitions were aade upon the British treasury for supplies. The campaign cost the English government lothing in money. It was a terrible tax upn the Whigs in the region through which thermy passed. The Length op Days.?At London, Eng. and, and at Bremen, Prussia, the longest day ias 16} hours. At Hamburg, Qermany, and at Dantzig, Russia, the longest day has 17 hours, and the hortest 7 hours. At St Petersburg, in Russia, and at Tobolsk, Siberia, the longest day has 19 hours, and the hortest 5 hours. At Tornea, in Finland, the longest day has !1} hours, and the shortest 2} hours. 'At Wardneys, in; Norway, the day lasts rom May 21st to July 2d, without interrup* ion. ' f At New York tne longest day, June 20, ias 14 hours and 56 minutes; at- Montreal, 5} hours. jd ' jM