The Sun.
London, England, 1864-07-30 00:00:00

THE SUN, LONDON, SATURDAY EVENING, JULY 30, 1864.

TILE MUTUAL MISTAYR.

" Tell me, pray tell me what it is that you have to com-
municate—your manner almost terrifies me," said Silvester
Langdale, as Lord Mcntalban continued to pace the room.
" Langdale," exclaimed Lord Montalban, stopping sud-
denly in the centre of the room, and speaking with an agi-
tation which drove the blood from his cheeks, "Langdale,
very shortly there wilt be a claim made in respect cf a bill
that has been discounted."

If Lord Montelban had presented some deadly weapon at
the breast of Silvester Langdale, he could not have exhi-
bited more horror in his countenance than he did at this
conimmunication. He clung to the table for support, and
with a scaroely audible voice he said--

" I know it."
" You know it ?" exclaimed Lord llontalban in a tone of
astonishment.

" I do, indeed."
" Why—why, how could you know it ?" asked Lord
Montalban, almost scared by the feeling of astonishment
which the declaration created.
" How could I know it P I do not understand you in put-
ting such a question to me."
" Langdale, I have all my life been the victim of mis-
placed confidence, but I never felt that fate which seems to
hang over me until now."
" Say not so—say not so," said Silvester Langdale in a

tone of bitter anguish.
" I see how you feel it, Langdale—the disclosure I know
could have no other result, but believe me that you cannot
feel more acutely than I do myself."
" I feel assured of that, indeed I do, and it is that assur-
ance that adds poignancy to what I may truly designate
my anguish."
" Do not, Langdale, I pray you, speak in that strain, for
it cuts me to the very heart to hear it," said Lord Mont-
alban in a tone that indeed carried conviction with it.
" Strange that ho should exhibit such a tearing under
such circumstances," thought Silvester Langdale, " but
he is Augusta's father, and that must be the reason of his
forbearance."
ic I have reproached myself Lord Montalban
commenced.
" Nay do nct do that—pray do not do that, or you w'

add to the intensity of miso;row," said Silvester Lang-
dale, interrupting his father-in-law.
After a longer discussion of the same incomprehen-
sible character, they separate without coining to an
understanding.
And so were they thus mutually deceived. How little
did they dream that each had deceived the other, and that
the damning proofs of mutual deception were in the hands
of Marl Baskerville to rise up yet as a combined vengeance
for a wrong I
The story
winds uP 'with one of those double
tragedies to which Nye are becoming almost hardened.
It is the easiest way possible to finish off a tale, and
the third volume closes, like a Christmas pantomime,
with the blue lights and the smell of gunpowder.

Zoe's Brand. By the Author of "Recommended
to Mercy." 3 Vols. Chapman and Hall.
The opening scene of the first volume of this work
introduces to us three fair school-girl friends at the
pensionn at of Madame Duchatel, in the Rue Grange,
at Paris. One of these damsels is Pauline de
Rouvray, a young damsel of Brittany, and another
is her favourite friend, the lovely Zoe Gordon. Zoe,
endearingly surnamed Cherie, is the daughter of a
Southern planter, and has been sent to Paris for
her education: we have just become acquainted
with our fascinating heroine, and listened to her
excellent eulogiurns on life and liberty,whon a change
comes over the spirit of her dream. Her father ar-
rives in Paris, and she is summoned to accompany
sets foot on American soil. Fairer and more beauti-
fulhim back to New Orleans. In happy ignorance Zoe
than any of her Parisian schoolmates, endowed
with precious gifts of intellect and education,
a lady in her manners and her bearing,
a true and
tender woman in her pure and
loving heart, poor Zoe bears, unconsciously, a
" brand" upon her brow. A drop of blood from
" the race of the Pariahs" mingles with the purer
currents in her veins.
Quadroon, who, zoo is the daughter of a
although she bears the name of
Mrs Gordon, cannot be legally the wife of a white
arema slaves,
man.
. Zoe
and
andhelria nobloet,hien the event of the death orr, Quadroon and Octoroon,
bankruptcy of their Owner, to pass with his other
chattels into the hands of the highcA bidder 1 Such
is the
"situation"
of the story, and it is one full of
interest, although already, in some respects, familiar
to us in the
Popular history of the" Quadroon" and
the melodrama of the '`Octoroon." The antipathy
of the white to the coloured race,
more especially in
the free States, is very strongly exemplified in these
pages. While Mr Gordon is conducting his
daughter on
her homeward journey, he endea-
vours to
keep her as mach as possible in the
back ground, But while staying at on hotel in
Now York poor Zo:3, all unconscious of her" brand,"
finds her way to the table (Photo, when the following
scene ensues :.....

DLAEri. AND WRITE.
To describe Mr Gordon's state of mind as he hurried tla
the dinner saloon would be impossible. To say that he
had no feeling of compassion for the girl whose percep-
tion of her actual position in society was likely soon to be
so rudely
awakened would bo untrue, for ho was
naturally kinl.h„rto3,
and his young daughter's rare
personal gifts had roused in his heart feelings both of
affection and parental pride. It was that very pride, how-
ever, which made him at that anxious moment somewhat
oblivious to Zee's claims on. bis CO3,i'adttiou, And glen, be

It remembered, he did, in common with his countrymen, so
bitterly despise the low-born, dollar-loving, unchivalrous
race, whose narrow prejudices would, as he was well aware,
lead them to outrage every pure and womanly feeling of the
delicately-reared Southern maiden.

There yet remained, nevertheless, a change of escape,
and at that, the anxious man, as he hastened onward,
eagerly caught. It might be—he did not think it probable
—but still it was on the cards that the fact of Zoe's birth
might not have become patent to that bigoted assemblage•
The gas shone brilliantly, it is true, from a hundred jets,
but by some singular piece of good fortune it might be that
no betraying dish had fallen on her low white forehead, or
on the taper fingers, which, Frenchwoman like, were, in
Zoe's case, usually covered with the most unexceptionable

of gloves.
"If so, I am all right," thought Gordon, as for a mo-
ment he placed hhnseil in the doorway and took a general
survey of the guests. "If so, lam all right, and perhaps
my best course would be to let things take their course, and
go somewhere else for my dinner.' He was turning away,
when Zoe, whose eyes had never for many minutes toge-
ther been removed from the entrance-door, caught a glimpse
of his face. _ _

"Ah l" she exclaimed in joyful accents to a neighbour
of the male sex who had, by a series of embarrassing ques
tions, shown himself to be more inquisitive than polite ;
" Ah I there is my father at last"—and, acting on the im-
pulse of the moment, she sprang from her seat to greet
him.

She did not notice the looks which at sight of Mr. Gordon
and on hearing her hasty exclamation, were exchanged be-
tween the occupants of the end of the table where she had
been seated. Very ominous looks they were, and more
than one man (her right-hand and previously most assidu-
ous neighbour was the first to move) rose from their chairs
with a kind of angry start, and a simultaneous movement,
which the bland hotel-keeper strove in vain to arrest.
Astonished, and half-frightened by the consequences
of her impulsive act, Zoe passed towards the now crowded
doorway to her father, who still remained where she had
first caught sight of him—his face pale with passion, but
with an air of indomitable resolution on his brow. To re-

join him, short as was the distance by which they were
separated, was no easy matter; for he was beginning to be
pressed againstby several excited and gesticulating Yankees,
whose wrath that they, and above all, their "ladies," had
broken bread with one of the negro race, was not to be
easily appeased.
" Well, sir," said one free-born citizen, walking close up

to the offender, and speaking with a nasal twang which at
once betrays the Northern American—" well, sir, I expect
you've made a pretty considerable mistake in bringing that
there girl here to-day. You'd best keep your smuts in your
own place, and don't think to force gentlemen to keep com-
pany with them, or you'll gat something you don't expect,
I calculate."

A scene of indescribable tumult follows, but the un-
happy offenders are extricated by the landlord, who,
however, inflicts another stab upon the awakening

Zoe :--

"There, now, you keep quiet," said the landlord when
they reached the door of their private apartments; "you
keep quiet a spell ; though of course it's direct against my
interest to say so, the sooner you and that 'ere gal leave
York the better. I,m not over fond myself of having
coloured things o' that sort about, and my best rooms isn't
for such-like company, I expect."
He was closing the door as he finished speaking, and

Zoe's heart was faint and trembling within her; for no
word that he had uttered had fallen to the ground unheard,
and the poor girl stood before her father touts and tearless,
but with anguish indescribable in her heart.
A little further on poor Z)e is yet further en-
lightened :