University of South Carolina Libraries
~ ""'' ' . " ~^~ _ lewis m. grist, proprietor. ";|n Jiibfpntbcnf Jamil]) ^tttospsptr: Jor t|e ^promotion tf % |difical, Social, ^grirattnral anb Commercial Interests of % &ont{i. |terms--$2.60 a tear, in advance. "VOL. 26. YORKVILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, MARCH 25, I88O. 2STO. 13. f ' : ^ __. _^_ __ _ _ ? - : i ' ; 71 ^ 77" Jl oi ~Bq C KING'S M BY MRS. MAE CHAPTER V. There happen sometimes, accidents in life from which it requires a degree of madness to extricate ourselves well. La Rochefoucald. Long and lingeringly did little Bessie Craig look out into the moonlight. Sadly and almost tearfully she watched the waning moon, and felt he would not come. Yet, still she . paced the little walk, and softly she would K open the gate and peer anxiously out. At Bb length, weary with hope deferred, she ran for |k a little distance down the road. Suddenly ^B her eye brightens and her form grows more |W erect; surely she heard voices. Then a shade of disappointment steals over her pretty faceit could not be Bowen?he would come alone, and she wanders on in thoughtless dreaminess, wondering what delays him. Ere she was - ? . . ... -/? il . aware, the voices approacn; a mm 01 me road will briftg the speakers into sight, and for the first time, she feels that she has gone too far. The road, straight now as an arrow, and the bright moonlight, will surely discover her. She hesitates but a moment, when plunging into the bushes, which line either side of the road, she hastily concealed herself. "Ha!" said one, "what is that? I surely heard a rustling !" They stopped and listened, and Bessie feared the beating of her heart would betray her. "It was only a squirrel," replied the other. "I hear nothing." "There it is, again," said his comrade, as a cracking branch broke beneath her. Again they listened. "Pshaw !" replied the other, "you would be frightened at your own shadow?it is only a squirrel in the trees. I'll swear you expect to see the Whig cavalry burst on you as they did this morning. Come on, man, and don't be such a coward." "No!" replied the first speaker, still listening, "let us wait awhile and see what'U come of it?it'll do no harm to watch." "Watch away, then, I'm going for water; I'm most dead with thirst That house ought to be about here somswhere. Where in the mischief has it gone to ?" "Don't be in such a confounded hurry, Tom ; I'll go in a minute?let's see if anything turns up. If Ferris thought we bad let any one slip past us to the Whig camp, he would think nothing of stringing us Doth up." "What's got iDto Ferris, anyhow, lately ? He was bully enough before, but he's a perfect bull dog now," replied his comrade. Why he's got hold of some cock and bull story about the Whigs rising in the upper part of the State, beating Cornwallis with one hand and Ferguson with the other, and with one foot in Charleston and the other in the mountains, making a clear sweep of the State. He's such a cursed braggart nobody believes him, and his temper, never very sweet, is now worse than the devil's." "Well, I hope to night's work will put him in a better humor. They say the Captain is to pay him handsomely if they catch the Whig trooper." "Yes, to the tune of five hundred, or more. Ferris would sell his soul for gold. You know he was bought out of the Whig ranks, and if they catch him, it will go hard with him? traitor and spy both." "The Captain's mighty anxious about Davie. If it was Marion, himself, he could not run more risk. Why, lie's almost in the hornets' nest. I don't see the use of running one's neck into a halter for a paltry Whig m^or." : . "You don't! ~T~reckon if you saw a girl with land and niggers and gold, more than you could count, in the case, and nothing between you and her but a 'paltry Whig major,' you would understand it." "Phew! That's the way the wind blows, is it? No wonder he's anxious to trap him. Well, I reckon he's got him, hard and fast, to-night." "Yes, Ferris has worked like seven devils. He's got some private spite to settle in the matter, too. Ellick Bowen, the Major's Captaiu, has got the better of Ferris two or three times, in a fight; and not only that, but he blames Bowen for taking his girl from him, and he hates him like thunder. Now, Ferris knows that it will most kill Bowen for anything to happen to the Major; so as he can't reach Bowen, he'll have his vengeance out of whatever will hurt him worst." "How did Ferris know that Davie would be there to night ?" "He didn't know it at all; but after we got whipped to-day, he re-crossed the river and dodged after the Whigs, thinkiug Bowen would stop to see his sweetheart, who lives about here somewhere, and I heard him say he would shoot him if the ball passed through the girl's heart. But Bowen didn't stop, and while Ferris was dodging for him, who should ride past but Major Davie. Ferris says he had his finger on the trigger to pull, Gut he stopped?thinking it would hurt Bowen worse to find him hung?so he won an hour or two's respite, and exchanged a bullet for a halter." * "Well, come on, let's go. I don't care if they hang him as high as Haman. Where is that house ? I'm most famished for water." And the parties moved on. Bessie waited until after their footsteps had died away. Then plunging into the woods, she hastily ran, under their shades, and reaching the back-door of the cottage, found she had outrun the Tory sentinels. It was the work of a moment to empty every arop 01 water from the pail, while ia breathless haste, she detailed to her father the events we have just narrated. "Now, dear father," said she, "do not wait to expostulate?do not deny me?saddle a horse quickly?leave him in the woods at the back of the house?make what delay you can in going to the spring for water, and leave the rest for me." "Bessie, lassie, what would you do? You could not go to the camp to night. Bide you here, and I'll away." "No ! no ! father?better meet a whole regiment of Whigs unprotected, than a Tory trooper. Do not ask me, father, it will not do." Andrew looked at his fair young child and felt it would not do. "Let rae go with you then, daughter ; it'll not do for a young thing like you to go alone." "Don't you see, father, yon must be here to detain them. Qufok ! Quick! father; they are coming. Don'fc let them know I'm here." "How can I help it, child?they will soon know a woman body is about;" and the father looked with pride around his humble cottage. "Tell them I am gone out?anything; but they must not see me," replied the maiden, in hurried excitement, as she felt the necessity of each moment. "I cannot tell a lie, Bessie," replied the old man, sadly. "Nor do I ask you, father, dear," said the maiden, tenderly, "Say I am gone to see a friend, for oh !" she murmured, "is he not the dearest aud best." the ftrwlufou. IMFlitJL; ?R, OUNTAIN. Y A. EWART. ) "My child"?said her father, hesitatingly. 1 ? / .1 . ti :J :M "Hush, hush, dear miner, eaiu ucsoie, interrupting him ; "did you not give me to the cause of liberty, and oh! think of the loss Major Davie would be to our country. Think how Captain Bowen would mourn for his friend," said she, with the rich color mantling her cheek. Think how he would chide us for giving him no warning. Think of the minister's blessing, dear father," said Bessie, entreatingly. "Right, my bairn, right; I'll saddle the roan mare, she is the swiftest and surest, and I'll put her in the shade of the big oak by the road, and may God bless you, my little lassie," said the old man, as he tearfully kissed her pure brow and rested his horny hand in her golden curls. "Strange," muttered he, as he hastened away, "the child I dandled on my knee, who so often toddled after me, should teach me my duty ; the little woman ! God guard my Margaret's bairn." Bessie had scarcely time to tie a handkerchief over her brown curls, and running out of the back door hide in the shadow of the wood, when the shaking of the gate and the loud call of the men, told her that she had just escaped. Andrew was in no hurry to hear them, and not till he had saddled the horse and placed the bridle in Bessie's hands?for he had no time to lead it farther?did he answer. Then, as if coming from the spring, he came on singing, in louder tones, as he approached the house, that beautiful Psalm, "The Lord's my shepherd." "You old Psalm singing puritan you, are you going to keep us here all night ? Confound you, come along and give us some water." But Andrew did not hear, or did not heed, and singiug louder than ever, moved about the house as if intending to close it. "You cursed old hypocrite, if you don't briug us some water, I'll crack your doting skull for you ; what in the devil do you stand gazing there for ?" said one, as Andrew peered into the moonlight. "Are you wanting anything, gentlemen?" said Andrew, with one hand raised to his ear, as if for the first time hearing the commotion. "Now listen to that will you ? Wanting anything! when we've been standing here hollering for the last half hour. Give us some water, will you ? you deaf post you," he yelled. Slowly Andrew descended the steps, and walking as slowly down to the gate, very politely asked? "Are you wanting anything, sirs? My hearing is no so gude as it was in lang syne, and I thought maybe you might be calling." "Be calling! he calling the devil! I have stood here yelling till my throat is well nigh cracked. Give us some water, will you ?" he cried, at the top of his voice. "Oh! water! certainly, gentlemen, walk in. I'm not so deaf but I can hear that I would na like to be without water mysel such a night, but come in, come in, and bide a while." "No, we can't leave the road," said the man. surlily, "bring us the water." "Oh ! come iu and sit a bit," said old Andrew, opening the gate. "It's early in the night yet, though this good moonlight we dou't light candles?come in and rest ye." "No," replied the other, impatiently, "we can't come in; for heaven's sake, bring us the water." "The water! oh ! yes," replied Andrew, as if he had just heard of it. ?"Sure, yes, I'll bring ye water, and gude fresh water it is, but will you na come in ?" and he stood with the opened gate. "No," thundered the one called Tom, and with oaths, so impressive, that Andrew thought it would be no longer safe to wait; so turning, he went up to the house,, but Bessie had taken care to leave no water there, and with the empty pail-in his hand, the old man slowly returned to them. "Gentlemen, you'll have to come in ; there's no water, and if ye'll but just bide on the steps a moment, I'll gie ye as cool a drink as ever ye tasted." Now, Andrew was anxious to get them out of the road, for he feared Bessie would emerge from the wood ere she passed its turn. T coo n Violn for it Tom lpt.'a fro in and I rest. I suppose we will get the water by waiting for it." Just as they entered the gate, a distinct sound of a horse's hoof struck upon the ear. "Hark ! what is that ?" said Jones, the other sentinel; but Andrew judging correctly that Bessie had mistaken her distance, cleverly clicked the gate almost at the same moment, and bawling like a deaf man sometimes does, said? "How far is it, do you say? Well, a matter of some hundred yards, perhaps not so much, or perhaps more; it much depends on my own feeling ; if?" "Will you hush ?" said the excited trooper, who tried, but in vain, to catch the sound. "Will I bring it ? Of course I'll bring it," said Andrew, laughing, as if "highly amused. "Do ye think I canna bring a pail of water; deed but I can, and twa of them if you like." "The old fool ! If it was anything, it's gone now; I don't hear a sound; do you, Tom r "No, I doubt if I heard it at ail, for he j banged the gate so, I thought it might be that." "I believe for my part, the fellow is more knave than fool," said Jones. "Did you not notice how he started ?" "No, I did not notice anything," replied his thirsty companion. "I believe the next thing you'll notice a leaf falling, or which way the wind blows, and argue that it is a sign of approaching Whig cavalry. Hurry your old bones now, and bring us the water, and do not stay all night." . Andrew, now pretty well assured of Bessie's safety, made the trip to the spring in a reasonable time. The troope.s had evidently been conversing on the probability of any one passing, for their first question was if it were "possible for any one to reach the Whig camp by any other road than this ?" "Not unless they strike out through the wood," said Andrew, in reply. "And would it be possible for one on horseback to get through ?" "Not unless they are willing to take the fate of Absalom," laughed the old man. "Where's your wife and children ? You have got some women folks about you, ain't you?" "My wife sleeps in the church-yard,"replied old Andrew, gravely. "Well, where's the children ?" said they, for a moment awed by the old man's manners. "I have but one girl," replied old Andrew, gruffly. "Humph! I thought as much," they said. "Too many woman's knackeries about here to deny that. Well, where is she ?" "Gone to visit a friend." "A friend! What friend ? How far from here?" "Look ye, sirs, when ye tell rae who made ! my business yours, I'll talk to you about it," replied the old man, indignantly. "Hi! you're up there, are you ? Well, I tell you, a civil question requires a civil answer, and I'll make the business mine, if I see fit; so keep a civil tongue in your head, you old Scotch rascal, or maybe you'll have no head to hold it," and rising, the unwelcome visitors departed. But it is time to see how little Bessie is speeding on her journey. Giving the rein to the horse, she did not again draw it, until within the Whig camp. It was not until challenged by a sentry and demanding to be conducted into the presence of the commanding officer, that she felt the awkwardness of her position. As she rode through the camp, many a curious look was turned towards her, and many an exclamation of admiration fell upon ner ear. "Who is commanding officer?" she said to the guide. "Captain Bowen," he replied. Bessie involuntarily checked her horse. "Take me to some one elsp," said she, hurriedly. "I cannot go to him." "I guess there's no one else I can take you to; and you need not fear him, Miss, for a truer gentleman never lived." "I kuow that," said little Bessie, proudly erecting her head, "but is there no one else I could give my information to, and let me go back home ?" said she, timidly. The trooper smiled. "No, Miss, there is no choice now but to go to headquarters. Yonder he is now." Bessie looked and easily discovered Bowen among the tall mountaineers by whom he i was surrounded, from his superior height. ; He was standing with bis cap in his hand, the fire light throwing a strong reflection on his handsome face, laughing lightly with his < brother officers. Bessie saw the guide approach and give her name; she saw, too, the ? startled looks of pleasure, aod smiled ; saw the ' succeeding look of doubtful wouder, and in- 1 voluntarily she blushed deeply, and a sigh < trembled from her breast. But she had no farther time for thought. Bowen was him- ' self approaching. I "Bessie," said he, "you here! What is I wrong?" and he held out his hand to take her from the saddle, but instinctively the I woman drew back. < "Captain Bowen," said she distantly, while i a burning, flush mantled her brow and was I gradually succeeded by a death like pallor, ; "I come at the call of duty, bearing important news. Major Davie is in danger; per- I haps even now in the hands of the enemy," < and she rapidly detailed the conversation she i had overheard, only refraining from the por- j tion which referred to herself. "Ha!" replied Bowen, "this must be seen ] to; it will be necessary to detain you a few ; minutes," and he touched his cap respectfully, while Bessie thanked him in her inmost heart < for the delicacy which led him to treat her as a stranger. Ordering a sentinel to take her j to a retired part of the camp, he hastily corn- < municated with his brother oflicers, and al- i most immediately the trumpet sounded to j arms. The camp was now a scene of bustle and confusion, and Bessie wondered if order j could ever be brought out of such disorderly < elements as the mass, of busy and excited i troopers presented. The tramping of steeds, i the rattling of sabres and muskets, the call of the oflicers, the shouts of the men, all mingled, i made a din quite novel to little Bessie's ears, ] and she smiled as she caught herself listening j to catch the sound of Ellick's voice above it i all. While the troop was getting in readi- ] ness, Ellick snatched a moment to speak with j Bessie. < "You are a brave little woman, Bessie, i said he, after assuring her there was no one j by to notice them. "If it is as you say, I j have no doubt you have saved Major Davie's 1 life. I cannot tell you how proud I am of < you for it;" ] uk? ?.* o>> __:J /\rt) you, jcmiuti i a?iu one, muug uci blue eyes to his face in innocent wonder that such a stalwart specimen of manhood as the brave trooper before her, should be proud of such a mite of a body as little Bessie Craig. "Indeed, I am, Bessie," said he, laughing at her wonderment; "you are fit to be a soldier's wife." "Oh! Ellick, do you think so ?" said she, every feature beaming with satisfaction ; "do you know I thought of that ? I feared you thought me a little coward woman, and I was glad to prove that I was not afraid to do my duty; still it was not all for that I did it. I ] would have done anything to save Major Davie." { "And why Major Davie, Bessie?" said , Bowen ; "you do not know him." "But you do, Ellick, and the men said you ] loved him, and bis death would hurt you." , Ah! there was the secret of it all. j "You area very woman, Bessie," said he, warmly ; "but the men are ready and I must ( away. God bless you, Bessie ; a guard will , see you safe home after we leave," and he sprung to his saddle. j Bessie watched him take his place at the , head of his men, heard him shout "forward," ( and in a moment, she was alone with her es- j cort. , i I CHAPTER VI. Upon bis band, she laid her own, ( Light was the touch but it thrilled to the bone, i Siege of Corinth. Ellen Campbell retired to her room, but not to sleep. Those bitter words rang in her ' ear. She had wounded, by her coolness, the heart she would have died to save. If she 1 had had but the courage to have extended . her hand to him. IJut coward that she was, she would suffer, hgrself, and worse, far worse, ! let him suffer rather than conquer a cruel ' modesty. She felt weak?nervous; the task 1 of undressing was wearisome. Dismissing her attendant ere the toilet for the night was more 1 than half completed, she extinguished the light and sat down at the open window. ' Major Davie, too, was restless. She could hear him in the room opposite to her own, 1 pacing to and fro, but at length the souud ' ceased and all was quiet. Sadly and dreamily gazing out on the moonlight, her attention was caught by shadows falling upon the sward. Her first impulse was to rise and look . out, but the rattling of a sabre struck her ear, 1 and instantly a sense of danger entered her mind. She remained motionless for sometime, then hearing whispered voices she sank ! on her knees and placed her ear to the sill. 1 "Place a couple of men at each door, and 1 sentinels round the house, and we'll be sure to have him," said Ferris. The voice was not familiar to Ellen, and | she only gathered enough to know there was a threatened danger to Major Davie; but y - J ~c tr SOOn mo SUUlJU ui v^ajjuiiu xj.an.ij a vuiv.c struck terror to her heart. "Quick, boys! quick! what we do must be done quickly ; we have no time to lose. Force an entrance if necessary, and haDg him to his own bed post, rather than let him escape." Ellen sprang to her feet; not a moment was to be lost. Hastily throwing her shawl around her bare shoulders, and fastening the dress that had been partially unloosed, she ran down stairs to ber uncle's room. Jerry, his man servant, slept in an ante room adjoining his master's, and was the only servant in the house. Hastily rousing him and charging him to delay the opening of the door as long as possible, without waiting to see her uncle, she ran back to Major Davie's room and knocked lightly at the door. There was no answer. Again she knocked more loudly and rapidly; but the sleeper was sleeping the sleep of a tired man, and there was no response. What should she do! Stooping to the key hole she called in a loud, excited whisper, "Major Davie! rouse! the enemy are here." Still no reply. Hark ! they are now knocking for entrance ; another moment may be too late. The brave girl, brave in subduing her woman's modesty hesitated no longer. With a firm hand she opened the door and approached the bed. The moonlight fell upon the sleeper. One stalwart arm was thrown above his head, the other rested upon his brawny chest, which heaved in deep respiration. The jetty black hair was thrown back from his brow, and the long lashes threw almost a shade beneath his closed lids. The mouth was relaxed from its usual fine expression, and a look of softness rested on the face that thrilled Ellen's heart, as she thought of the tenderness that bade the expression rest there n few short hours ago. But, it was no time for gentle memories. Agaiin, a hasty, summons at the door. "Major! Major JJavie!" cried Jilien, nenaiug over him. Still he slept on. Laying her harud lightly on the sleeper, she gently shook him. "Awake! awake, Major Davie ! Henry !" she cried in her alarm ; "you will be taken? the enemy are even now at the door." He sprang up, fully roused. "Ellen !" he cried?but she was at the door. "Quick! quick ! for God's sake, quick! The tories are forcing an entrance?in five minutes more it will be too late?dress quiokly, and come to the room opposite." It was evident that the Tories, impatient at Jerry's slow motions, were about breaking down the door, and again she called to Major Davie to hasten. Almost instantly, he came from his room, buckling his sword on as he crossed the passage. " W hat do you propose for me ?" His dark 3yes flashing in excitement; for even as he spoke, the sound of the opening door with the immediate entrance of the Tories was distinctly heard. "Here ! here!.'" cried Ellen, catching his arm, drawing him into the room and locking the door. "There is no help for it?the tree! the tree! is your only chance." "Ah ! I see," said he, and glancing out of the window to measure the distance, he dissevered the sentinels below. The bright moonlight would surely discover him if he attempted to escape, even if the noise of the yielding brandies did not. "It will not do," said he, "but I will not be found here; you must not be compromis,A T nt nnf ?n/1 fko /ton Tor 11Irn o 5Ut J-JTsh liiC UUb ?UU IUCCI VIM\J uuugvi i?" v m man. It will be but an imprisonment at any rate." "No, no," cried Ellen, mildly, "they will kill you; you do not know their hate against you. Captain Hardy commands the troop." "And how bave I exasperated him ? I 3o not even know the man." "I cannot tell you how," cried Ellen, wringing her hands iu distress. "I can only think of saving you," 6aid she, as voices were heard in the opposite apartment. She looked round the room in despair. "Here," she cried, opening a door into an inner room, "enter quick, quick! Why do you lelay ? For God's sake, Henry,' cried Ellen, ilmost beside herself with terror, "this is no Lime for pride." "By Heaven no! I will make my way, svere tbey backed by a regiment. I cannot, Miss Ellen, I cannot," replied the trooper, folding his arms calmly, though the involuntary mention of his name quickened every pulse; "let them take me, though I regret it should be here. I could not stand being Irawn like a coward from such a concealment." Ellen buried her face in her hands in utter despair. There seemed no appeal from that proud resolve, but the knockB at lier own door roused her to action. Her resolve was at once taken, and nobly did the high souled girl carry it out. There was aeither tremor in her voice nor flush on her abeek, as she firmly said? "Henry, I a^-thia_ior.my sake. Do not loom me to maiden widowfibod?!L. The warm blood mantled his olive-cheek., flushing it to a damask hue; an instant more tie hesitated?not longer could he resist the sad entreaty of those eyes. ClaspiDg her hand <md murmuring, "Heaven bless you, Ellen," tie entered the room. "What means this rude summons," cried Ellen, in answer to repeated knocks. ;. "Open the door, said Ferris, fiercely; "we have no time to bandy words." "This room is my chamber, sir; if you are a gentlemen, you will leave a lady's privacy undisturbed." "We respect no privacy that conceals a rebel; open at once, or by heaven we'll break the door down." And he shook it Dear from its hinges. "Your words are as insulting as your conduct is dishonorable and cowardly. I will aot opeD to ruffians," replied Ellen. "Then, we'll not ask your leave, Madam," replied Fefris, who seemed to be the spokesman of the party; and applying his giant strength to the door, he burst the lock from its fastenings. Ellen wrapped her shawl more closely around her, and standing immediately in front of the door, seemed to forbid their entrance. "Who are you, sir, that dares this rude entrance," she cried. "What cause is it that bids men fight against old men and helpless women, and bids you seek the hour of midnight for your triumph ? If -you seek booty, you must look elsewhere than in a maiden's chamber for it." "We seek the rebel, Davie; you've got him hid here, and we'll settle his account first, and take the booty afterward, pretty Miss," cried Ferris, coarsely. "So stand one side and let us pass." "Do not dare to touch me," cried Ellen, shrinking from his rude grasp ; "you pass not this threshold but over my dead body. But I demand to see your master. I am not accustomed to deal with such ruffians as you," said the undaunted girl, who espied Captain Hardy hanging back in the distance, ashamed of the part he was acting. "I own no master," replied Ferris, surlily; "and if you would save yourself from what you call insult, you had better keep a civil tongue in your head." "Captain Hardy was not wont," cried Ellen, contemptuously, "to need a spokesman, and if the choice he has now made is an evidence of his general tastes, I can well understand the disposition that leads him to war against women and fly from his own sex." "Capt. Hardy is here to answer for himself," the Captain replied, advancing toward her, Btung by her sarcasm; "and if Miss Campbell cannot understand the delicacy that would have saved her from meeting an acquaintance under such trying circumstances I will not attempt to explain. I come in the discharge of duty to capture a noted rebel against his king and country, and I command you in the king's name to allow me the right of search." "Miss Campbell is singularly obtuse in perceiving the delicacy that would send such a ruffian as you into her chamber," said the girl, with proud contempt, pointing to Ferris, who stood in angry impatience at this parley. "Why you should judge a rebel concealed in my room, I cannot understand, and would beg you to retire, at least until I can com plete the toilet your rude entrance interrupted." "Your evasion will answer no purpose," replied Captain Hardy. "We know that he was in the house; nay, his room gives evidence of being but recently vacated." "And why not seek him elsewhere ? Whig officers are not wont to fly to women, save where they can rescue or defend," said she, mockingly. "We have searched the house, Miss Campbell, and painful as is the duty, I must seek the rebel here. Once more I command you, in the King, my master's name, to allow me to enter." "I do not acknowledge your master's right over me, free born as I am. I. possess no slavish instincts to answer such a call. Let him seek among his slaves for rebels. Patriots fighting for their country's freedom, do not acknowledge the name," replied the intrepid girl. "Vftii aro iruatinrr time fountain." oripd Ferris, impatiently; "push the girl one side and go it." Ellen turned upon Hardy a look full of defiance. "To men of honor, the chamber of a lady should be sacred as a sauctuary. Oh ! where is the generous chivalry that was once so characteristic of the British soldier! What a degradation to your manhood! What a stain upon your honor, when such brutal humanity as you dictate to gentlemen and officers! I will defend the passage, though I perish. You may succeed and enter it; but I defy you to make the attempt." Her undaunted heroism intimidated him. He scarcely knew how to act; ashamed to enter, and yet unwilling to retreat. While hesitating, a happy thought struck Ellen; she laughed, lightly? "Gentlemen," she cried, "I will excuse your farther hearing. Think you a rebel would neglect such a means of escape as you," she said, pointing to the tree. "1 thank you for the parley. It has given what we needed?time." In an instant the room was cleared, and with muttered curses the tories dispersed themselves for the search. Ellen knew the respite was but momentary, for as soon as they would see the guards below they would be convinced of the impracticability of the escape. "My pistols, quick, Ellen ; quick?they are under my pillow. I will sell my life dearly," cried Major Davie, as he flung back the door?aDd ere he had time to question ner as to her excitement; for he had been too busily engaged in searching ways of escape to heed the parley in the adjoining room, and the noise of the crashing door had been mingled with the confusion below?Ellen ran quickly to his room, and snatching the pistols, hastened back. ."The branches come almost into the windows of the next room," he said, "and I am fain to try it. If my good steed were but below! My brave girl, farewell 1" He clasped her io his arms and kissed her tenderly. "Do not be too much alarmed on my account, dearest; even were I to fall into Hardy's hands, he is a soldier, and will know how to treat a soldier and officer." "You are lost! you are lost! if you fall into his hands," she cried ; "and I will be the cause. But hark! they come! "Fly! for God's sake fly !" and leaving her with one of the pistols yet in her hands, the trooper entered the inner room. The Tories were returning; though many had scattered through the house in search of booty, Ferris among them, who now secure of Davie, wished to secure the envied plate, the possession of which had long haunted his brain. Ellen had scarcely time to regain her calmness, when Captain Hardy, with his troopers, was at the door. "With this," she murmured, grasping the weapon, "I may yet intimidate them. There are but few ; he may yet escape." "Miss Campbell, your subterfuge has not availed. It is impossible for him to escape our guards. You but enforce upon me harsh measures. My duty is to take the rebel, Davie. Once more I ask you to let me pass." The Captain was evidently angry and chagrined. Ellen felt he was no longer to be put off. "I have told you I would not let you pass, Captain Hardy," she said. "I will defend the Drivacy of my room with my life." "You-would, Miss Campbell, he cried,'sarcastically. /'You hold your life cheap. Few would risklhe precious gift, on such an imaginary sancttt)^; but answer me on yourlibnor as aJady, is there nothing more' precious to pVMj&rve in tins room tlian simply your privacy? Answer me truthfully, and I will leqye you undisturbed from farther annoyance." He fixed his eyes keenly upon her. She strove to meet his look unabashed, but the guilty blood would not be subdued?it rushed in torrents to her cheeks, bathing her very brow with crimson tide?her eyes fell undefr the searching glance and her secret stood confessed. "I am answered," said he, calmly; "do not longer detain me?let me pass." She did not move. "You force me to this," he said, as he placed his hand on her arm. Shaking it from her and springing back, she cried : "Advance at your peril; for I solemnly swear I will shoot the first man dead who crosses that threshold." There was no mistaking the firmness of the intrepid girl. Every nerve was strung to high resolve, and her flushed cheeks and compressed lips testified, to her undaunted courage. "Then may God forgive you, Miss Campbell," said Hardy, standing in momentary admiration of the lovely girl; then fearlessly crossing the threshold. The next instant there was a report, and the pistol ball entered the ceiling. "You may thank God you are spared the life of a human being," said he gravely, as she covered her face and staggered back for an instant, overcome by a sense of womanly fear at the possibility of sending a soul to judgment; "but give me the pistol, I would save you from a more successful attempt." "Never," said she, firmly. "You take it from me at your risk," and again she sprang back from his touch. "By heaven ! girl," cried he, exasperated beyond all control, "you'll force me to wrest it from you. Cease this idle defiance; it only serves to hasten your lover's doom, for I swearyou have taught me never to allow him to leave this place alive." "Spare your oaths, sir, and permit me to leave it now. I would save myself insult and you the mortification of further annoying, by your rude and unmannerly conduct, a helpless maiden. Let me pass," and drawing her shawl closely around her, with a firm step and erect carriage, she swept past him, leaving him in mystified wonder that she should, at length, so quietly give up what she had so recklessly contended for. With many a muttered curse at the caprice that so annoyed him, he proceeded on his fruitless search. Maddened to find his prey escaped, he searched every nook and corner in the mansion in vain. Summoning the scattered tories, he si;ernly upbraided them with remissness in duty, and swore if Davie was not caught, he would make Ferris answer with his life. Ellen, who had sought refuge with Mr. Willoughby in the parlor, in trembling dread, heard the angry summons and the bitter curses of the disappointed men. Hoping that Davie would have the prudence to remain quietly in his retreat, Ellen determined to make another effort for him. Calling Jerry, t ft as being the most reliable of the servants, she instructed him to hasten with what speed and secresy he might, to the camp, and warn Bowi en of his friend's danger. "But how shall I get off, Miss Ellen ? They will be sure to see me." "They are all too much engaged now, Jerry. Fly, if you love me, and bid Captain Bowen come, and quickly," said she, as she followed him into the passage. "No! by heaven!" said Hardy, as he stood before her. "Your love would lend him wings ! would it ? Engaged, we are truly, but neither blind nor deaf; and hark ye, you old gray i headed sinner," said he, in towering wrath, to ! Jerry, "if you budge one inch from this room, I'll sever your doting head from your body. Be thankful your ears do not answer for your temerity now. Allow me, Miss Campliell," he continued, as with -mocking gallantry he conducted her back to the room. "And now, having proof positive that the rebel is near, I thank vou for the information and eoto start the game." Davie had become exceedingly restless in his leafy prison, and his high spirit undervaluing the danger, he determined to descend and trust the shades of night and his own good arm for a rescue. Composedly descending, he watched his momeut, and dropping lightly to the ground, cast a hasty glance around, and grasping his sword more tightly, sprang fearlessly in the open moonlight. "Who goes there?" cried a sentinel in the avenue. "Stand!" he cried, as Davie endeavored to spring past him ; "stand, or I fire." Dashing the weapon up with his sword, Davie caught it again in descending, and fearing to fire lest the noise should alarm others, drove the butt against the trooper's face with a force that laid him prostrate. But the noise bad already alarmed the sentinels who were posted near, and fighting like a tiger, the major was at length taken and carried to Hardy, who in pitiful triumph ordered him to be led into the parlor where Ellen and Mr. Willoughby sat Intending to give him a hasty shrift, he yet could not forego the dear delight of humbling him before his mistress, and compelling, if possible, the high-souled patriot to sue for mercy. With the bold and careless step of undaunted courage, the young major stood before his enemy. "A chair for the prisoner," said Hardy, in nf . 1 , n 5* _ 1 _ 1 J _ anectea courtesy, uenaing nis neaa who a haughty inclination, Davie refused the offer, without speaking. "You are, no doubt, aware," said Hardy, pompously, "that I act under the commands of my superior officer when I arraign you here as a rebel, and condemn you to tne last degree of punishment for your treason." A low cry from Ellen interrupted, and Davie, biting his lips in deep emotion, said? "I must beg you, sir, as an officer and as a gentleman, to waive this mockery, and spare the feelings of those who may be interested in the life or death of a fellow being." "They have the privilege of withdrawing," said Hardy, coldly. "In the performance of my duty, I can consult no secondary feelings." "I do not understand this mockery, sir," said Davie, exasperated by the calmness of the man before him. "I claim to be a prisoner of war, aud what means this fulsome parade ? If it is simply to prove that I am a rebel, as you call us, I will save you further trouble. I am a patriot, and glory in the name." "I must beg your patience," said Hardy, sneeringly. "I am willing to grant you what v*nttntr 11no in ***? tvaiha* " ujciuj ii?} iu uij |A/ncit "I ask nor accept no mercy from your bands," said Davie, firmly; "but if not deaf to every principle of honor, I do ask you for justice." "Silence!" said Hardy, with knitted brows, "and hear my questions." "I will not," said Davie, in a determined tone. "I will know first who and what you are, who thus arraign me." "Are you mad, Henry?" said Mr. Willoughby, in terror for his young friend, to whom he was tenderly attached. Remember, you are speaking to one of his majesty's officers, Captain Hardy." Davie haughtily inclined his head and said, "Whether I shall deem it a privilege to meet one of his name and rank, remains to be seen/' "Henry, Henry," said Mr. Willoughby, in a tone between rebuke and entreaty. "Let him alone, sir," said Hardy, trembling in passion, "perhaps he will have the audacity to justify the rebellion to me." "I doubt if your education would allow you to understand the rights on which you trample ; but I am willing you should be aware that I am prepared, at any time, to assert my liberty and that of my country." "And maintain it at the sword's point, doubtless?" said Hardy, contemptuously. "Your question would not have admitted of interrogation, had I the blade in my hand and you before me on a fair field," said Davie. "It is enough. Your bold and mischievous language corresponds with the character I have heard of you. Soldiers, to your duty I" "What do you mean, Captain Hardy," said Mr. Willoughby, in strong excitement; "would you shed a man's blood on the very threshold of my door ? For God's sake, stay!" "Make your peace with Heaven, in five minutes," said Hardy, without heeding him ; "have you the rope, Ferris ?" "Die as a common felon!" said Davie, recoiling, and for the first time exhibiting any emotion. "Let me at least meet a soldier's doom ; it is all I ask at your hands." j "Spare his young blood, Captain Hardy; do not have him murdered before my eyes. I Ellen, where are vou ? Come and plead for bis life," said Mr. Willoughby, looking around for Ellen. Sbe who was most interested in this dreadful decision, had at different times striven to speak, but her voice failed her. She now sprang up, and would have thrown herself at Hardy's feet, had not Davie's arm restrained her. "Plead with him, and for me? Never, Ellen !" and clasping her in bis arms, while in weakness and terror her head rested on his shoulder, he proudly confronted his enemy. "No! I ask nothing from your hands. Die as I may, I will die like a man, and the ignominy will remain with you as my murderer." "Remove him, Ferris," said Hardy, in suffocating passion, that he could not intimidate the fearless rebel. "You will answer for this violence," said Mr. Willoughby, forgetting all his timid fears in this appalling sentence. "I have friends who will make you answer for it." Hardy smiled grimly. "Look to yourself, Mr. Willoughby; your own peril may ere long be imminent?but we waste time. Attend the prisoner." "For God'8 sake, Captain Hardy," cried Ellen, as yielding to tne vehemence of her feelings, she fell at his feet, "spare his innocent blood." "Miss Campbell forgets the modesty of her sex," said Hardy, raising her from the floor. "For whom is she pleading ?" he added bitterly. . "Ellen ?" said Davie, as unable to support herself, she would have fallen, had he not again thrown his arm around her. She would have spoken, but her tongue refused to utter, and her strength gave way. Placing the insensible form in the arms of Mr. Willoughby, he turned to Hardy, saying, "I am ready." And with his noble form drawn to its full height, and his eye sparkling as proudly as it ever did on the field of battle, he awaited the movement of the guard. There was some commotion at the door, Hardy's <fgUepoe there?attend the prisoner," was unheeded ; and as he advanced to ascertain the cause, another sound mingles with the confusion. Hark ! it is the sound of trampling hoofs, of rushing cavalry. The clashing steel and pistol shot mingled with savage yells, more hideous than all, tell of war and death. For a moment the parties hesitate. Hardy is the first to understand the cause, and springing at the door, mingles in the fray. One instant Davie hesitates. Bending over the pallid face of Ellen, he cried? Ellen! my own Ellen, there is no longer cause for fear. I hear Bowen's voice?I * am free, free," said he, joyfully. "These are sad circumstances under which to leave you, but I must away. Heaven bless you, my brave girl," and he pressed his lips to the pale brow. "Free! free!" she cried, starting up. "Is it indeed so; thank God, thank God," and with the tears rolling down her cheeks, she sank back, exhausted frcra the prolonged excitement. "Once more, Heaven bless you, Ellen.? Hark! those shouts. They miss me;" and with his clarion voice ringing in joyous answer on her ear, the trooper was gone. [to be continued.] OS 15 WAY TO UATl/H W1LII UUCK. I have seen in India, writes a traveler, native fishermen catch wild duck and teal in an ingenious manner. Say that there is a large, deep tank, with a reedy margin, and that in the centre of this tank there is a flock of wildfowl. The fisherman stealthily approaches the reeds and lets himself down into the water. He brings with him a couple of logs of wood, sufficient to float him; a very large earthen pot, into the sides of which numerous holes have been drilled,* some twine and two or three tame ducks; and having these, he now proceeds to cut some of the tank-side rushes. After this, itie goes on to put his head inside the inverted earthenware pot, around which he artfully disposes the rushes. He . goes on then to fasten the pot to his shoul-.. ders, and to tie the tame ducks to the logs' of wood, by slack strings a few feet long, and next ventures out of the rashes, and paddles noiselessly off to the flock of wildfowl in the centre of the tank. These dnly see a heap of rushes, an inverted earthenware pot, and a couple of logs of wood floating toward them. Whatever suspicions they may be apt to entertain, are qnickly dispelled by the sight of the tame ducks swimming about the pot, logs and rushes. The fisherman af length gets into the centre of the flock, and it is at once at his mer- . cy. All he has to do is quietly to stretch out his hand under water, and pull suddenly down by the legs the nearest wildfowl. He does this with a jerk?there is no noise and no flutter?and the moment he has the wild-fowl he has captured fairly down, he wrings its neck and attaches it to the twine about his person. Half an hour is quite sufficient for him to kill a hundred wild-fowl; but he Drefere a lighter load to carry to his neighboring village, so he satisfies himself with, say a score, and floas away with his tame ducks round him just in the manned he came. An Honest World.?A dozen men were loafing away the rainy hours in a business place near the ferry dock, when the conver- ? sation turned upon the subject of general ~ rascality. A citizen said he had given a boy a quarter to get changed, and had never seen bim again; another said be would'nt. .;-Jm trust his own grand-mother, and a third " xf' give $100 to see an honest man. "I have not yet lost my faith ill hjgHf(^K nature," finally remarked a man on a backvseat. "Any of you may call in a stranger to:.^ us all, and I will give him a five dollar bill , to get changed. If he fails to come back I' lose the money; if he returns you will ' how foolish your assertions are." Half a dozen men rushed to the door/ seedy, gaunt, and evil-looking African was paddling in the rain, and he was selected to make the test. "Stranger," said the man who hadn't lost confidence, "take this five dollar bill around the corner and sret it chanered and I will rive you ten cento." The black man departed without a word, and for the next ten minutes the laugh was on the man who sent him. It died away, how* ever, as the African slouched in, banded out the bill, and said : "I runned all over town an' nobody could change him." He was given his ten cents, and the man who lost the quarter by the boy said he * wouldn't have believed such an exhibition of honesty if herhad npt witnessed it, and he was willing to buy the cider for the crowd. It was only after the cider had been destroy* . ed and paid for that he learned that the bill given the negro was a base counterfeit which no one would accept.?Detroit Fret Preu. Bermuda Grass Bears no Seed.?The only method by which it can now be propagated is by cuttings. The sod is taken up and thoroughly washed; it is then run through a cutting machine and cut fine ; the cuttings, or rather choppings, are sown broadcast, and a shallow furrow turned over them as in plowing wheat. This method is suggested by Mr. Howard, in his useful treatise on "Grasses for the South;" we regret that he does not state what quantity of cuttings of this kind is needed for an acre. It would be well for some seedsman, where the grass is abundant to advertise the fact that he can supply it in sods or cuttings. The grass increases very rapidly, and if those who wish to introduce it can get by mail a small bunch of roots from some friend where it grows, they can, by carefully growing this one year, get enough to set a wide area the following spring. The value of the Bermuda as a pasture grass is more obvious than as a meadow grass. Yet, when our late friend, Mr. Afflock, of Texas, states that his regular crop was five tons of hay to the acre, and one so favorably known as Doctor Ravenel, of South Carolina, states that by the use of fertilizers, he harvested, in four cuttings, from one-eighth of an acre, at the rate of ten tons to the acre, we should think that the Southern States by growing this grass would be exporters of hay, The Language op the Hair.?Straight, lank, stringy-looking hair indicates weakness and cowardice. Curly hair denotes a quick V7% 1 _ ..1 t_ 1 J temper, r nzzy nair, set on one 8 neaa as 11 each individual hair was ready to fight its neighbor, denotes coarseness. Black hair indicates persistent resolution in accomplishing an object, also a strong predisposition to avenge wrongs and insults?real or fancied. Brown hair denotes fondness of life, a friendly disposition, ambition, earnestness of purpose, capacity for business, reliability in friendship, in proportion as the hair is fine. Very fine hair indicates an even disposition, a readiness to forgive, with a desire to add to the happiness of others. Persons with very fine light brown or auburn hair, inclined to curl or friz, are quick-tempered, and are given to resentment and revenge. Light brown hair, inclined to redness, with a freckled skin, is a certain indication of deceit, treachery and a. disposition to do something mean to a friend, who can be no longer used to advantage. We give this as we find it, and it is about as true--^^ as such things generally are, tOF There is nq fortune so good but that it may be reversed, and none so bad but it may be bettered. The sun that rises in clouds may set in splendor, and that which rises in. pleasure way set in gloom.