The Abbeville messenger. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1884-1887, 1885-10-21
BROUGHT TO LIFE.
a STORY OF OLD PLANTATION DAYS
IN A GREG LIE COLONY.

Fifty dollars a month is not much
Of a salary, but I had arrived only a
fortnight before. and had no ~acquaint-
ances in the country; therefore 1 could
not presume to ask for better terms.
& My two pupils, NJ. Rabut assured me,
were very well behaved children; the
girl was just fifteen. already a young
lady, and the ten-year boy was equally
apt at study. After all I was only re-
quired to give five hours a day to
teaching; the rest of my time was al
together my own, to be devoted either
to work or sleep, as I pleased.
"And remember" he said "your pa.
vilion is at such a distance from the
family residence that you a feel per-
fectly at home there and perfectly
quiet. OF course everybody will treat
you with the consideration due to
your position in the household. You
will observe that my poor old mothers
head is a little weak, but she is the
kindest of souls"
I accepted the situation.
Ombreville is situated on the
heights of Moka. The mule itself
walked quite cautiously up the ascents,
and as 1 was careful to keep the ami
NAL at a walk on the descents also, I
came to the conclusion that I might
just as well walk. I got down.
Without troubling himself further
about my wishes, my black who guild
ed the vehicle soon begun to urge his
animal rapidly along the road, which
made a sharp turn at the bottom of a
long steep slope. When I reached the
turn both vehicle and negro had disap-
peared. [ was all alone. 1 reckoned
that there was scarcely another league
to travel. and as it was not quite sew
en- O'clock, I would be able to be in
time for breakfast.
It was in April. A threatening
storm had been growing all the day
before on the other side of LIE Ponce
summit; on either side of the road the
trees drenched in t%orrential rain, shook
down showers of water from the leaves
with every breath of wind; the water
OF the bitches to right and left ran
with a loud murmur under the shadow
OF the high grass; the air was fresh
and allimpregnated with sweet smells;
the sun still hung at the edge Of the
forest curtain; it was a delight to
walk. From the bottom Of my heart
l thanked the intelligent black who
had imposed this pleasure upon me,
and l continued on my way.
AS l walked on I began to dream.
What future did this new land hold
in reserve for me? I had not come to.
1T with any idea of making a fortune
although a young man Of twenty
hve, l had acquired enough common
sense to save me from such allusionsl
but only to earn a good living, and
lay by enough to enable me, when an
old man, to return to France and sleep
at last under the shadow of my own
village spire.
Meanwhile. after half-an-hour walk,
had reached a point at which three
different roads forked off from the
main one. One of them, 1 knew must
lead to Om5reyille-but which? I
invoked the Triple Hecate. sat down
upon q rock, and waited.
a negro passing on the rum. potnted
out to me which road to take. SoonI
caught sight Of the lofty chimney of
the, sugar mill-then the house itself.
buried in a thick grove Of mango
trees, and, as ! feared being late. +
B B quickeDed my step. Under the yeran-
dab. already crowded, I saw people
rushing back and forward-runnjn0,
and no one. noticed ne as I assembled
the front steps except a big fat negrress
crouching at the entrance. who sobbed
and cried with renewed despair at my
coming. There was on the sofa at
fun length, lay . young gi1-almost a
child Her long. bright hair. all
streaming with water, fell over the
back Of. the sofa, and had dripped up
on the verandah until : little pool had
formed upon the flags. She was whit
81 than q Place Of marble; the siolets
ii death weSa ON her comnyassaa 13,,.,