The Virginian. [volume] (Lynchburg [Va.]) 1822-1829, 1825-06-27

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a tone Of surprise, but not of appre-
hension. -" 4 stranger" said |.
"who is in need of hospitality."-
4 slight flush. apparently Of pain.
rose to his check rs he replied I" If
a seat by my hearth fire. and a re-
past OF mountain game, deserves the
name OF hospitality, You shall freely
share them; they are all it is in nv
power to offer" With these words
he laid aside his burthen, Invested
himself OF his outward garments,
kindled light, and sat down by the
lire. | had now an opportunity of
studying his appearance more mar
rowly; it was remarkable and in
tercsting. His form WAS tall and
graceful, though bent with years
his forehead high and bold, and his
temple partially covered with locks
I that rivalled winter in whitcness.--
His clear grey eye had military
quickness in its motion, and seemed
as it should belong TO one who had
watched the movements Of armed
bands rather than the flight of the
forest bird, or the bounds of the To-
rest deer: His face had that cduca-
ted expression which invariably cha
raCtcriZcs the cultivated man, and
that we'll bred aspect which can only
be obtained by habltual intercourse
with polished society. Struck by the
incongruity between such man and
such a habitation. | determined to
learn if possible the cause Of his ST.
tuation and the story Of his life.
With this design, after our frugal
repast was ended, and conversation
had inspired mutual confidence, |
ycntured to touch the string. The
| character of his mind as it became
developed, q the style OF his remarks
had awakened an intense interest.
which had neither the power nor
/ the design to conceal. was C0nii-
dent that | was in the presence ONO
ordinary man. " How happens it,"
said, ..that you have chosen this
solitude, so bare and so comfortless,
for the asylum OF your age ? Me
thinks that splendid mansions and
courtly society might claim, and
proudly too, form and mind like
yours for an inmate and an orna-
mcnt. What can have driven you
across the circle that encloses social
life, to this solitary abode -
" Young man." the stranger replied,
" it il but a common tale, and why
should obscure the fair light Of
youthful feeling with the shadows OF
aged suffering My tale is ono
which, when told, will leave dark
remembrance, that will hang like
a cloud on your brightest and hap
pest hours. 1t is one which |
shall tell in sadness, and not in wrath,
but which you will hear with feelings
sweIicd by both. Listen to my
words, and while | speak, should
your voice break forth in curses upon
injury and ingratitude, remember,
that | curse not, but .torgire. You
ask what has made me an exile from
life, and tenant of this wild spot !;
my answer is, the ingratitude of o.
Tiers and my own just p ide. Could
| have tanned nay high spirit, to bear
insulting pity, and scorninl charity,
[ would never have forsakcn the
haunts of men, but | prefer the sa-
wage independence of mountain
hunter to the polished seryitnde OF a
coutly parasite. You will under
stand the reason of my exile from
the events of my life.
Young stranger, you see before
YOU one whose name once sounded
far and wide across the fields of A
mcrica one whose banner your ia
theirs followed to battle forty years
ago: one who afterwards presided
in the councils Of your nation, and
whose head was raised high among
the great ones of the land. In the
tenant of this wretchcd hut you be-
hold a man of lofty ancestry and
princely fortune; the last of a time
honored family, on which the cloud
misfortuncs has settled darkly and
forever. What boots i that | should
tell You that years and years ago, ere
the freedom Of America was yet in
embryo, the name which bear was
made famous by my gallant ances-
tors on the field where the British
Lion waved bloodily and triumph
antly-that the war cry OF our lam
Iily was the loudest in conflict, and