The News-Herald. [volume] (Hillsboro, Highland Co., Ohio) 1886-1973, 1894-01-04
CHAPTER XIV.

UnUll nearly evening Oh une neNU
day was solitary in that house. I'M
usual out-of-door labors kept lie Fevre
away from early morning till dark;
and neither Coralie nor her father ap-
peared at the breakfast or dinner
table.
"De ole massa powerful sick in de
night" said one of the women who
waited on me. '''Pears like he done
git no sleep. and Missy Coral up an
down wild him. Tell us what we do
for yo', sab, an we do um."
1 strolled down to the bayou and
strolled back. 1 tried toget interested
in book, and threw one after another
aside. Was it the natural longing for
her who had now become necessary to
my existence?-or was it the restless
ness provoked by the shadows of COM
ing events?
Coralie-always Coralie. She had
taken possession of me: / could think
of nothing else. l have ventured upon
no description of her face and form; /
will not She was all that Mr.. Dorion
had said of her, and more.
But who was it that thus thought of
her and hoped for her? A poor adven-
turer, with a few paltry dollars in his
pocket: dependent at this moment
upon her fathers hospitality.
Aye, indeedl-was that my position?
Be it so. The other side of the ques-
ton quickly appeared. There was
danger rthreatening-dang TO Coralie
The very air was full of it, since the
ill-omened visit of the previous night
l,, hi
was her fathers anxious question
What might he have said?-what could
he say?-what was it that he had
threatened to tell all through La
Fourche?-the threat of which had
forced Mr.. Bostock to the humiliating
confession that this scoundrel was his
son.
Evidently the mysterious terror that
brooded at Pierce Bostock's heart
largely concerned his daughter. The
man who sought her must seek her
under this cloud He must take his
risk. Was | prepared to do this?
Was | prepared? Yes! A thousand
times yes | would face anything,
dare anything, for her. / exulted,
with a fierce exultation, to know that
part / wanted something to dare;
something to suffer for her sake.
The parting words of lie Fevre on
the previous night REQUIRED to me.
''The old man couldn't live without
her. I've sometimes thought that the
love of he- is all that keeps him alive.
Many pr ,mising young fellows, the
sons of the wealthiest planters about
here have tried to court her, but he's
driven them all off. He has seemed to
be in perfect terror of her falling in
love with anyone. But he needn't
have troubled himself so far. She
hasn't cared straw for any of them"
Would it not be so with me, both as
to the father and daughter? | could
not tell. But l resolved to quickly
find out. Events were fast shaping
my course, and the startling occur
renee of the evening before had en-
boldened me to speak out.
1t was almost sunset when she came
down from her fathers chamber,
wearied from loss of sleep, languidly
beautiful in her white wrapper, with
her black hair unbound and fastened
back with net. She came and sat by
me on the sofa.
'sHe is asleep now," she said, antici-
pating my question. 81 hope it will
last long enough to rest his poor dis
tracted mind and his weak body. 1t
all comes from the shock of that bad
mans visit last night. He will not
talk with me about it-but in his sleep
he cries out his name, and prays him
not to speak of me-and o, Mon Dieu,
it is horrible! Can 1t be that this hid
eous man is my brotherP"
81 fear it is so. Mr.. Dorion told me
So He said that he came to the plan
tation near Vicksburg when you were
an infant, with your father; that he
was always called son; and that it
was supposed, when he went away
during your childhood, that on account
of his evil course your father had hired
him to leave"
''Ah, me! 1 have no memory of him.
Why does papa fear himP'
ST wish l knew"
"These things are dreadful What
are we to do-what will become of us?"
"Do not despair. We may never hear
of that man again"
"Ah, you do not know the condition
that poor papa is in! 1t is pitiful to see
him He begs me not to leave him; he
calls on Conrad not to betray him"
.'He is delirious."
mo, no; it is in his sleep. Since last
night, it has seemed to me as if could
never be ight-hearted or happy again.
{ 1t seems as though some dreadful
calamity was threatening us"
''You want rest and sleep yourself.
You must not be so sad"
''Am sad? Well, think of it. Here
is papa, sick with fright from that man;
he will die suddenly, some time, the
doctor says-and then there is nobody
to protect me or care for me. Mr.. LIE
Fevre, perhaps-but he is SO rough,
though his heart is good. / am
troubled"
All this was merely the natural out
pouring of the heart, by one whose life
1ad oIxuo va. haan s,runu xvhn had n0f