The clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1883-1888, 1886-12-01

Has she had any visitors this morn
/ ing-has he been there, Louisa?'
'Dar, now, you ask me dat, Masss
Ross, just as if he didn't come ebery
morning of him life"
J ''Then he has been there reioined
} the man, 'and left her fainting. Tell
me, Louisa-oh. here is the Napoleon
that | promised
There, that am something ike, Massa
Ross, and the negress tied the gold in
the corner of her handkerchief, and
thrust 1t into her bosom. Yes, he was
there long time"
well, interrupted Ross, evidently
getting impatient, "tell me all that
passed, word for word; do not forget a
look or a syllable-and another gold
piece Is ready when you have done.
And the negress, thus stimulated, told
! him all. The scene of tender anguish
the struggle of love and pride which she
| had witnessed in the sick chamberLall
was related; and, oh how its exquisite
pathos, its touching dignity, was desc
Grated by the vulgar mind and coarse
speech of that slave womanm
Ross listened to it, his face changing
with every sentence; for, with only that
coarse witness, he did not think it ne
cessary to control his features with the
dissimulation that had become habit.
| He listened, and as he felt, thus the evil
man looked. When the woman ceased
speaking, the exrltation of fiend was
! in the smile that curled his lip.
And he was determined-spite of
| her caresses, spite of her tears. | knew
that it would be so. He is not a man to
waver, having once taken a resolution
but the child, Louisa? / have recon-
mended woman up the river to take
charge of it, but you, nay good Louisa,
must still be its nurse. 1t seems a
feeble little thing; do you not think so,
Louisap
Feeble. Lor massy! No; it's the
best-natured, healthy little thing | ever
see, " was the reply, and Louisa agitated
| her palm-leaf fan with considerable yio-
lence.
But away from you, Louisa, with
some one less kind, it may become sickly
in very little time, You know"
"Sure enoughW and Louisa half sus-
pended the action of her fan, as she fell
into fit of profound contemplation
"With you to give it medicine and
superintend, if it were i'll, should feel
quite SAFE" said Ross, and strange,
| tiendish smile crept over his lips. "Of
course, l should come and see you very
often"
ooh you would. Well, den, haven't
nothing TO say against going with the
baby"
Wherever [ send you, Louisa ?''
"Well, yes, don't care, if it isn't so
far off that you can't come once week
or so to see US, Massa Ross; but | won t
go far, now l tell you"
"Well, now, go to your charge, | viii
see you again tomorrow"
The negress arose, and, with an inso-
lent twist of her head to the left shout
der, stood in the doorway tanning her
self,
"Well, said Ross, impatiently, "well,
what are you waiting for now ?"
''Dis piece of gold in my bosom, Massa
Ross, and the negress, placed a plump
ebony hand upon her heart. ''It is gun
beginning to feel lonesome"
"Oh l had forgotten; here, here"
Louisa drew forth the pocket hand
kerchief, which, from its embroidery
and exquisite lace, must have been pur-
loined from her mistress, and second
Napoleon was nested in her bosom.
Stop" said Ross, as she was going
out; :" You said that the lady was faint
ing-that he took the child forth in his
arms. Where is it now ~
Chow should | know? | s'pose he
took the baby to your wife. She was
in the back parlor, and he turned that
way"
''There he is now. Go back into the
room I0uisa 90 back"
Ross seized his hat as he spoke, and,
leaving the slave house, wound through
the grove of fruit trees that sheltered
him from sight, and taking serpentine
path, came leisuTely forth into that part
of the garden where he had seen Mr..
Clark,
The proud man was walking hurriedly
forward, his arms folded, and one white,
aristocratic hand thrust into the bosom
of his black dress. He was very pale,
and his finely cut features bore traces Of
great internal anguish. lie saw Ross
and turned quickly toward him.
cit is over, my friend; it is all over"
he said, grasping the hand which Ross
extended, and wringing it hard. A
smile, full of proud anguish, broke the
firm and classical beauty of his mouth,
dlu lAS Cyl ctJOhC fOlub1Co VI oUtiNA III
"What is over2 what has happened?"
inquired Ross, startled, and turning
almost as white as his friend.
My wifei my childI'
"What of them? What has happened
to them, my friend -
Nothing but that which was ineyita-
BILE. But Zulima, my poor, poor wife!
It would wiring your heart to see how
from har
child"
"But the child; it is yet with herr"
''Hark?' said the other, lifting his
hand. "Do you not hear?
1t was the sound of carriage driving
rapidly from the house. Mr.. Clark
seemed listening to the sound as if his
life was departing with it-fainter and
fainter from his bosom. There was
something in his countenance which
Ross dared not disturb, though his soul
was burning with curiosity, to know
why the common sound of carriage
wheels grinding through the grayelly
soil should so profoundly agitate his
benefactor.
The sound grew distant, and died
away before another word was spoken,
then Mr.. Clark turned toward his false
friend, his nerves, hitherto drawn to
their most rigid tension, relaxed, and
his eye met the gaze with which Ross
was curiously regarding him, with an
appeal for sympathy that would have
touched heart of stone.
1T is goner' he said, in a broken
voice. My child is gone!'
"Your child gone? when? whereT
cried Ross, fearfully excited. "Surely
you have not sent the infant from its
mother so abruptly-and-and without
consulting-I mean, without informing
your best friend ~
THAT carriage-you heard it-bore
away Zulima's childr' said the unhappy
father, mournfully.
'sRut where has it gone? With whom
is it plaeed?'
at is placed with one whom have
long known, the noble and childless
wife of an old and dear friend. Myra
will be to them as an own child, till
claim her again"
"And may not know the people, and
the place." inquired the false friend
THE child of my benefactor is dear to
me as my own"
81 have pledged mysseh TO secrecy in
this It was the desire OF my friend, ,
repeated DIR. Clark: "but for that you
should know everything. All this con
cealment viii soon be over; few weeks
and this man must be sentenced. Then
| wife and child shall take possession OF
their home before the world. In this
you can held me. | can not well appe1l
in person to press forward this mans
conviction, but you, my friend, viii use
every effort to relieve me from this pain
full position Ny poor wife scarcely
suffers more than / do"
81 viii do everything that you desire.