The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1856-02-14
For the National Er
IVI FsTU.
I III f B r O II II e r S
BY Z. d. E. N. soUTHwORTH.
CHAPTER lI-Concluded.

I, Valentine was in his masters chamber. sur
rounded by the trunks and boxes that had been
sent after them from New York, and had but
that day arrived. Half of them were opened
and unpacked, and a part Of their contents
scattered all over the floor They consisted of
] books, pictures, statuettes, vases, and other
beautiful fances, that Valentine had persuaded
his master to collect in New York, during the
visits he had made there while residing at the
University of Virginia. And in the midst of
the picturesque and beautiful confusion, Valen
tine sat reclining in an easy chair, fascinated
spell-bound by an illustrated volume of Shak-
speare's plays. 1t was a new purchase of his
masters, made evidently without his knowledge
or consent, for it came in a box of books direct
from the bookseller, and that was now unpaoked
for the first time Valentine had taken the
costly book from its double wrapper of coarse
and of tissue paper, and merely meant to look
at 1t before placing it in the bookcase; but that
single look was fatal to his resolution for indus
try that morning, for he threw himself back in
his masters easy chair and was soon deep in
the spells of the magic volume. Hour after hour
passed, and there be sat- his body in his mas
ters lounging chair, surrounded by the beauti-
tifu litter of books and pictures, statuettes and
vases flutes, and eolian harps and other toys, and
his spirit enchanted and carried captive by the
master magician to attend the fortunes of King
Lear. The spirit-music, of which his ear was
still conscious, came not from the eolian harp
in the window, that vibrated to the touch Of the
breeze, but from some old minstrel harper at
the court of King Lear; and the perfume that
filled the room came not from the magnolas of
the grove outside, but from rare English flow
ers tended by Cordelia, for his soul was not in
America in the nineteenth century, but in
ancient Britain in the age Of poetry and fable.
He was aroused from his day-dream by the en-
trance of Phedra, in more excitement than he
had ever seen her betray. Without word
spoken, she fell upon his neck, and, clasping
him closely, burst into tears; then, quickly
sinking down by his side, clasped his knees,
dropped her head upon them, and wept convul-
svely.
Astonished and alarmed, Valentine tried to
raise her, exclaiming, /" Mother what is the
matter? Mother why, Mother what ails
you? what has happened?"
But she chung around his knees, and buried
her face, and wept as she had never wept be-
fore. Using all his strength, the youth forcibly
unclasped her arms, and got up, and raised
her, and placed her in the chair that lie had
vacated.
snow, mother, what is the matter?" he
asked, bending afectionately over her.
"Oh, Valentine !" she said as soon as she
could speak for sobbing, "Oh, Valentine after
all. there is no will /"
"No will ~ he repeated, in quiet perplexity,
for he did not quite comprehend the cause Of
her excessive emotion. "No will, did you say,
mother?"
NO! no! no! no! !" she repeated, tearing
her hair, there is no will although he prom
ised-and l felt sure he'd keep his world
never doubted it, because he was an honorable
man, after his fashion-there was no will !"
"Well, my dear mother, what of that, that
it should distress you so?"
what of that? Oh, Valley! Valley what
question:
Indeed, do not know why you should take
the non-existence of a will so much to heart,
mother" he said, soothingly.
"Oh, Valley Valley! Master promised
faithfully that he would leave you free, and
leave you money to take you to some better
place-to some place where you would not
be she hesitated for a word; she, in her
fond, motherly pride, hated to use the term de-
spised-" where you would not be opposed for
your color-to France or to some other for
eign country. And he broke his word to me
Master broke his pledged word to me, who |
served his family so faithfully so many years.
l didn't ask for freedom for myself, only for
you'll"
Mother, don't take it to heart SO don't go |
'on so, don't"
"Hush hush! it is the Spanish woman's
curse falling on US mel she cursed me, dying"
My own dear mother, the curse recoed
upon her own malicious head, for she died
mad. 1t never reached you, who did not in
any way deserve it. 1t was you that was
wronged, not her, am sure"
Yes, yes, it was that was wronged it was
that was wronged / came to my master
with his other property-with his land, and with
his negroes and other cattle. had no mother,
for my mother was sold away from me when /
was but seven years old. was brought up by