The Globe-republican., 1892-11-04
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CHAPTER L.

much less realize, the loneliness OF the
Louisiana plantation mansions OF 60 or
20 years ago. Those homes were set in
the midst of a wilderness whose con
tiguity of shade" as Cowper expressed
it, was broken only by intervals OF
marsh still more dreary and desolate.
For miles and miles, even now, the
solemn, moss draped woods stand SOM
Der and silent, given over forever 10
reptiles and wild beasts, and for league
upon dreary league the tall grass covers
the cosy, Shiny marshes where no Nv
ing thing is visible save the wide
winged birds and the wallowinS alll-
gators.
The effect of this strange country
upon a vivid imagination is remarkable
under the most ordinary circumstances.
In the case Of Martin Lawrence it had
a triple emphasis. To begin with, his
business enterprise was of the most I'M
usual and exciting nature; a Philadel-
phia bank had been swindled by two
sharpers supposed to be clever repre-
sentatives of the Murrell organization,
and the affair apparently involved the
honor of two or three citizens of prom
inence in Louisiana. John A. Murrell
was a man who exerted great personal
influence in a most mysterious way, but
as our story has nothing to do with him
We cannot turn aside to sketch his
methods 1t is sufficient to say that all
accounts, together with the biography
written by Virgil A. Stewart, agree in
making it clear that he was the greatest
highwayman and leader of lawlesS men
that America has ever produced. To
tamper with any Of his schemes or to
NEEDLE in any way with one OF his
affairs was a most dangerous thing.
Lawrence realized this, and, lover OF
adventure that he was, enjoyed it to the
full.
Young Lawrence had been guided al
most by chance to the residence of Col.
de Vigny. the very man whom his bust
ness errand concerned; and on the very
veranda, while being Hospitality well
coined by the Colonel, his eyes had
fallen on young girl whom he had met
in the old world.
What hurled the thought OF legal duty
clear out OF his head for time was see
ing Mile. Lucie once more, and away
out there in that lonely plantation house
amid the cypress swamp and live oak
hummocks of Louisiana.
Lucie was, if possible, still more
beautiful than when she was mere slip
of girl in Switzerland and in Paris.
Her face had taken on with its slightly
increased fuilneSS a Quieter, richer eX-
preston, as if life were somewhat more
serious to her now.
He saw at once that she remembered
him and that she desired him to trea.
her as a stranger. In an obscure, ipdi-
rect fashion he OWNED her reason for
wishing to be left unrecogniZed; at
least he felt sure that some barrier
would have to be broken between them
greater than any mere reserve of con-
ventional prudence.
Ones mind works with lightning
Swftness under such circumstances.
Lawrence felt that, in some way, every
thing depended upon the adroitness with
which lie might turn the key in the lock
of this mystery, and he at once set his
will like strong brake upon his i'm
pulses.
She stood before him but a moment
At first he was on the point of stepping
toward her and letting go the whole,
long pent-up volume of his feeling. To
see her again was like regaining sight
after long blindness, like stepping forth
to freedom after resting for years in a
noisome dunSeOn-no, thOusandfOld
more thrilling than any other experience
could just then have been, was that one
assured look into her beloved face.
She made some slight but signiii-
cant sign with her eyes and lips. II
was scarcely a movement at all; but il
said, more urgently and forcibly than
words could have done, that it would be
fatal to all his hopes-and, oh! sweet
thought, it meant that her own heart
felt the mighty need of prudence and OF
wise forbearance at this crucial point in
their two lives.
Lawrence quickly glanced at Col de
Nigny TO see if he had noticed the little
by-play. That faciie creole was ewi-
IDENTIFY quite unaware that in the space
of five seconds stroke OF fate Sill
premely important had rung out clear
and strong cchoing from heart to heart.
His dark, somewhat mysterious face
was suave and .amiable, with hospitabls
suggestions in its mobile features.
Lucie hurried away to summon serv.
ants and 10 superintend the laying of d
supper for the guest Meantime, hel
heart leaped wildly and her brain was
in happy whiri. How long she had
waited and dreamed, feeling sure that
some dav he would return! Now he
WIS mere, ouu 2SN WIN oA3 SeAoAAcs sAib
handSome!
VIVA de mattah, chile?" inquired the
old colored housekeeper, only she spoke
in the French patois Of the Louisiana
slaves. -Wha' de mattsh wild 20 now?
Yo' look SO comfusticated!"
Nothing, Zilla," replied Lueie, but
isn't it too bad that We must set guest
q cold, meager little supper like this?A
"Oh. g'long, dahlin'; come late; save
light you know
Yes, he did come Late, and there was
something in Lucie's voice that gave
peculiar emphasis to the word late; but
we must do our best.
Wait twell brekfus. Miss Lucie. an
zen We feed i'm.
Certainly Lawrence did not think the
supper light or meager when he sat down
to it opposite his host. Cold venisOn
with Jelly. French bread, rice cake,
roast pig with baked sweet potatoes and
patties of maize, preserved figs. good
butter, and syrup as clear as honey
these We're the dishes before him, and
besides there was coffee and elaret.
Lawrence did not mention his bust
ness till next morning, and, tired as he
4 Il L,,%l Ii, .1,r~i psv he