The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1884-02-23

some; for in the darkness they left the cave
and took little cautious exercise along the
shore. By the next morning they were
both hungry and thirsty; but their biscuit
were all eaten, and water was not to be had.
And in the afternoon storm came up,
which made the cave very unpleasant to
live in. Cold, damp, hungry, thirsty, John
Eveson now had need of all his spirit to
sustain his courage and to cheer his faint
ing companion. On the morning of the
fourth day, as Eveson was peering YEARLY
from the mouth Of the cave, he saw, in the
little cove close by, colored girl getting
sand in calabash One look at her honest
black face convinced Eveson, who was
quick at reading character, that he would
be quite safe in trusting his life with her.
A soft whistle drew her attention. Hear
ing it repeated, she looked earnestly about
to discover its origin, and spied the haggard
face framed in the dark sea-wall Under
standing at once-for her owners house
had been searched for the fugitives-the
girl made signal of caution, and walked
slowly towards the cave, gathering sand
and shells as she went. When near
enough, she stopped, looked carefully about
to see that no one was within hearing, and
said quickly: Tonight / bring you
bread and drink. Watt
That day passed slowly and wearily to
the fGgitives. But, as the slow hours
moved on, hope frightened, and brought
feeling of rest in assurance of succor. The
evening hours crept by with leaden feet;
midnight came; the night grew late; hope
almost died out; bitter disappointment be-
gan to be felt, and the gloom of despair
seemed to settle in that dark and lonely
cave. Then along the road again, at that
late hour, came the tramp, tramp of sol
diers marching. Oh, the agony of that
moment The black girl had surely be-
trayed them Nearer, nearer, came the
steps. Overhead now Are they stop
ping? Are they passing? Hark A
halt; silence; swift words of command;
then feet scattering in all directions for a
midnight search among the houses cluster.
ed about the cove. Again the feet assem-
BILE. The hunters stand in council, and
their feet seem to press like death on two
laboring hearts below. Have the soldiers
heard of the cave, and will they now seek
it?- The debate ceases overhead; the steps
move again. On? Yes; thank God, yes |
Forward March y On, still on! and
the steps die away in the distance In
the cave, two stifed hearts are released
from an awful pressure; two worn faces are
raised in the darkness, tears flow down
wasted cheeks, and sobs convulse wearied
bodies as two saved lads offer Thanksgiving
to heaven. The soft drip of trickling water,
the murmurous plash of little wayelets,
alone mingle with their midnight orisons.
But soon figure darkened the entrance to
the cave, and soft voice erept along the
air. "Massa massa you dar? | bring
you something to eat. God bress you,
pore massa y and tender-hearted black
Miriam wept for the sufferings of the fugi-
tives, who devoured so hungrily the food
she had brought then Mats TO ease their
weary bones she brought them too, and
comfort and hope.
She had received early intelligence of
the midnight raid of search, and had had
to remain quietly in bed until it was over
But the danger was now surely passed, she
said, and the Panther was to leave in a
day or two. In the meantime, they must
eat and sleep, and she would care for them.
| For four days longer the prisoners lay
in their cave, but comparatively comfort
able, and almost happy; then the Panther
sailed away Mrs. Plaice, Miriams owner
and mistress, had them brought to her
house, and kept concealed there until the
search for them had quite died out and
was forgotten. Then, when Eveson fell
sick of a low fever, brought on by his So
journ in the damp cave, the natural con-
clusion of such romantic adventures follow
ed easily. His hostess, very young widow,
"loved him for the dangers he had passed,
and he loved her that she did pity them. !"
On his recovery, he married his fair pre-
server, and contentedly settled down in
Bermuda
When the news went round that Mrs.
Plaice had married the young Englishman
who had recently come to Bermuda to open
a school for gentlemen's sons, the brightest
gossip never fancied any connection between
the dignifed young scholar and the Jack
tar who had deserted from the Panther.
The sharks had surely eaten poor Jack;
but just how or when Mr.. Eveson came to
Bermuda, no one knew.
Faithful Miriam had her reward. She
was tenderly cared for by Eveson while he
lived, and when he died was left by him as
"a most precious legacy to his daughter.
She was offered her freedom in 1884, when
the emancipation of slaves took place, but
refused it with scorn. She remained with
her mistress for the rest of her days, and
died in her arms at the last, at good old
age,
1t is not known what became of Wilson.