Den Massa Rat de ole woman war all struck ob a heap, like. cliff, he come, and he swar like de Debble hisself. He cuss'd de ole woman and set her off cryin', and den he swar at her all de more. Dar was a gen'ral break-down, darlin'. Massa Ratcliff he 'b goin' ter gib yer fortygraf ter all de policemen, an' pay five hundred dollar ter dat one as 'll find yer. He sends us niggers all off - me an' Tarquin an' de rest - ter hunt yer up. He swar he'll hab yer, if it takes all he's wuth. He come agin ter-day an' trow de ole woman inter de highstrikes. She say he'll be come up wid, sure, an' you'll be come up wid, an' eberybody else as does n't do like she wants 'em ter, am bound to be come up wid. Yah, yah, yah! Who's afeard?" "So the hounds are out in pursuit, are they?" "Yes, darlin'. Look dar at dat man stahndin' at de corner. He'm one ob 'em." "He's not dressed like a policeman.". "Bress yer heart, dese 'tektivs go dressed like de best gem'men about. Yer'd nebber suspek dey was doin' de work ob hounds." 66 Well, Esha, I'm afraid to have you stay longer. I'm here with Miss Tremaine. She may be back any minute. I can't trust her, and would n't for the world have her see you here." "No more would I, darlin'! Nebber liked dat air gal. She 'm all fur self. But good by, darlin'! It's sich a comfort ter hab seed you! Good by!" Esha slipped into the corridor and out of the hotel. Clara put on her bonnet, threw a thick veil over it, and hurried through St. Charles Street to a well-known cutlery store. "Show me some of your daggers," said she; one suitable as a present to a young soldier." 66 The shopkeeper displayed several varieties. She selected one with a sheath, and almost took away the breath of the man of iron by paying for it in gold. Dropping her veil, she passed into the street. As she left the shop, she saw a man affecting to look at some patent pistols in the window. He was well dressed, and sported a small cane. "Hound number one!" thought Clara to herself, and, having walked slowly away in one direction, she suddenly turned, retraced her steps, then took a narrow cross-street that debouched into one of the principal business avenues. The individual had followed her, swinging his cane, and looking in at the shop-windows. But Clara did not let him see he was an object of suspicion. She slackened her pace, and pretended to be looking for an article of muslin, for she would stop and examine the fabrics that hung at the doors. Suddenly she saw Esha approaching. Moment of peril! Should the old black woman recognize and accost her, she was lost. On came the old slave, her eyes wide open and her thoughts intent on detecting detectives. Suddenly, to her consternation, she saw Clara stop before a "magasin" and take up some muslin on the shelf outside the window; and almost in the same glance, she saw the gentleman of the cane, watching both her and Clara out of the corners of his eyes. A sideway glance, quick as lightning from Clara, and delivered without moving her head, was enough to enlighten Esha. She passed on without a perceptible pause, and soon appeared to stumble, as if by accident, almost into the arms of the detective. He caught her by the shoulder, and said, "Don't turn, but tell me if you noticed that woman there, there by Delmar's, with a green veil over her face? "Yes, massa, I seed a woman in a green veil.” "Well, are you sure she may n't be the one?" "Bress yer, massa, I owt to know de chile I'ze seed grow up from a bebby. Reckon I could tell her widout seein' her face." "Go back and take a look at her. the shop." There! she steps into Glad of the opportunity of giving Clara a word of caution, Esha passed into Delmar's. Beckoning Clara into an alcove, she said: "De veil, darlin'! De veil! Dat ole rat would nebber hab suspek noting if't hahd n't been fur de veil. His part ob de play am ter watch eb'ry woman in a veil." "I see my mistake, Esha. I've been buying a dagger. Look there!" Esha, with a shudder, half of "Don't be in de street oftener Remember de fotygrafs. Dar! I "De Lord save us!" said horror and half of sympathy. dan yer kin help, darlin'? mus go." Esha joined the detective. "Did you get a good sight of her?" he asked. "Went right up an' spoke ter her," said Esha. as much dat gal as she's Madame Beauregard." "She's jes The detective, his vision of a $500 douceur melting into thin air, pensively walked off to try fortune on a new beat. Clara, now that the danger was over, began to tremble. Hitherto she had not quailed. Leaving the shop, she took the nearest way to the hotel. For the last twenty-four hours agitation and excitement had prevented her taking food. Wretchedly faint, she stopped and took hold of an iron lamppost for support. An officer in the Confederate uniform, seeing she was ill, said, "Mademoiselle, you need help. Allow me to escort you home." " To Dreading lest she should fall, through feebleness, into worse hands, Clara thanked him and took his proffered arm. the St. Charles, sir, if you please." Allow me to introduce "I myself stop at the St. Charles. myself: Robert Onslow, Captain in Regiment. May I ask whom I have the pleasure of assisting?" "Miss Brown. I'm stopping a few days with my friend, Miss Tremaine." "Indeed! I was to call on her this evening. We may renew our acquaintance." "Perhaps." Clara suddenly put down her veil. Approaching slowly like a fate, rolled on the splendid barouche of Mr. Ratcliff. He sat with arms folded and was smoking a cigar. Clara fancied she saw arrogance, hate, disappointment, rage, all written in his countenance. Without moving his arms, he bowed carelessly to Onslow. "That's one of the prime managers of the secession movement." "So I should think," said Clara; but Onslow detected nothing equivocal in the tone of the remark. Having escorted her to the door of Miss Tremaine's parlor, he bowed his farewell, and Clara went in. Laura had not yet returned. CHAPTER XXVII. DELIGHT AND DUTY. "According to our living here, we shall hereafter, by a hidden concatenation of causes, be drawn to a condition answerable to the purity or impurity of our souls in this life that silent Nemesis that passes through the whole contexture of the universe, ever fatally contriving us into such a state as we ourselves have fitted ourselves for by our accustomary actions. Of so great consequence is it, while we have opportunity, to aspire to the best things." - Henry More, A. D. 1659. IT T may seem strange that Onslow and Kenrick, differing so widely, should renew the friendship of their boyhood. We have seen that Onslow, allowing the æsthetic side of his nature to outgrow the moral, had departed from the teachings of his father on the subject of slavery. Kenrick, in whom the moral and devotional faculty asserted its supremacy over all inferior solicitings, also repudiated his paternal teachings; but they were directly contrary to those of his friend, and, in abandoning them, he gave up the prospect of a large inheritance. To Onslow, these thick-lipped, woolly-headed negroes,what were they fit for but to be hewers of wood and drawers of water to the gentle and refined? It was monstrous to suppose that between such and him there could be equality of any kind. The ethnological argument was conclusive. Had not Professor Moleschott said that the brain of the negro contains less phosphorus than that of the white man? Proof sufficient that Cuffee was expressly created to pull off my boots and hoe in my cotton-fields, while I make it a penal offence to teach him to read! Onslow, too, had been fortunate in his intercourse with slaveholders. Young, handsome, and accomplished, he had felt the charm of their affectionate hospitality. He had found taste, culture, and piety in their abodes; all the graces and all the amenities of life. What wonder that he should narcotize his moral sense with the aroma of these social fascinations! Even at the North, where the glamour they cast ought not to distort the sight, and where men ought healthfully to look the abstract abomination full in the face, and testify to its deformity, how many consciences were drugged, how many hearts shut to justice and to mercy! With Kenrick, brought up on a plantation where slavery existed in its mildest form, meditation on God's law as written in the enlightened human conscience, completely reversed the views adopted from upholders of the institution. Thenceforth the elegances of his home became hateful. He felt like a robber in the midst of them. The spectacle of some hideous, awkward, perhaps obscene and depraved black woman, hoeing in the corn-field, instead of awakening in his mind, as in Onslow's, the thought that she was in her proper place, did but move him to tears of bitter contrition and humiliation. How far there was sin or accountability on her part, or that of her progenitors, he could not say; but that there was deep, immeasurable sin on the part of those who, instead of helping that degraded nature to rise,. made laws to crush it all the deeper in the mire, he could not fail to feel in anguish of spirit. Through all that there was in her of ugliness and depravity, making her less tolerable than the beast to his æsthetic sense, he could still detect those traits and possibilities that allied her with immortal natures, and in her he saw all her sex outraged, and universal womanhood nailed to the cross of Christ, and mocked by unbelievers! The evening of the day of Clara's arrival at the St. Charles, Onslow and Kenrick met by agreement in the drawing-room of the Tremaines. Clara had told Laura, that, in going out to purchase a few hair-pins, she had been taken suddenly faint, and that a gentleman, who proved to be Captain Onslow, had escorted her home. "Could anything be more apt for my little plot!" said Laura. "But consider! Here it is eight o'clock, and you're not dressed! Do you know how long you've been sleeping? This will never do!" A servant knocked at the door, with the information that two gentlemen were in the drawing-room. "Dear me! I must go in at once," said Laura. tell me you'll be quick and follow, Darling." "Now Clara gave the required pledge, and proceeded to arrange |