Saint Mary's beacon. [volume] (Leonard Town, Md.) 1867-1983, 1895-01-03

his annual visit to his swamp plan
tation, was struck by his decrepi
tude, and took him home with hin
to the hills, to do light work aboui
the yard. He was assigned the
cultivation Of the flower garden,
aud had abundant leisure, kinG
treatment, and palatable food.
But idleness awakened memory,
and impulses 30 long dormant thai
he thought then, dead began tos.;r.
1t was like the flow of sap in o rug
ged, winter-bonnd oak. For the
first time, he heard around ths
kitchen fire at night the story Of
Murrell aud his band--of the ne
groes and horses they had stolen,
the men they had robbed and mur-
dered. and how they we're finally
dispersed, some shot, others cap
tured and hung, and still others
forced to fee the country before
they could secure their ilI-gotten
gains, which still! remained buried,
or concealed in caves. All these
details Romeo drank in eagerly.
His young master had not sold
him.
This thought, coming first as o
timid doubt, grew into q firm con-
viction. Murreal had stolen him,
and if he could find the cave in
which he had spent the night, he
felt sure he might secure its treas
ures. How vividly he recalled
things which at the time but half
impressed him! While he lay bound
in one part of the cave, he had
heard some men enter, and after
ward the chink of money.
All the habits of his early train
ing had been long since obliterated
by the bestial degradation of the
quarters. He was now silent, Sc
cretive, watchful. Money must be
l-powerful-bring every blessing
he argued. Most OF the crimes he
had ever heard of were committed
to attain it-everything OF note was
accomplished by it, and to possess
it become absorbing passion.
His mistress was a devoted lover
OF flowers, and fond of adding to
her collection those choice wild ones
which grow in low, marshy places
in the deep woods. Romeo often
spent whole days, ostensibly in
quest of these modest beauties, but
in reality exploring every creek and
branch for miles around, in search
OF Murrelrs cave. His plans were
matured, and hinged on this ven-
ture. His heart withered and dry
as rose OF Jericho, blossomed out
afresh like that flower when washed
by the rain, as soon as he convinced
himself that he was one of Murrell's
victims, and that his Marse Aleck
had not sold him. All the allure
ments of the old life in his noun
tain home came back with irresisti-
BILE force. He must. he would find
the cave, and the money which he
was convinced that it contained;
then return to his own people to
end his days.
"Master," he qneried one day
with this thought ever uppermost
in bis mind, "ef er man wuz ter
fin' dat money, whut dem robbers
done hide, who it gwineter b'long
ter?"
elf white man should find it,
he would have a right to it; but if
a negro found il, it would 60 TO his
MASTER" replied Mr.. Moss.
"But who would do nigger b'long
ter whut dey tuck an steals" he
asked, persistently.
"Why. to his first owner, of
course.-but what are you driving
at, anyway" looking keenly at him.
"Notbin' sub, nothin'. / ies'
heern de folks i'm de kitchen talkin'
so much bout it dat I lowed I'd
Ak you" and he quickly shuffied
of.
His doubts were laid; his duty
was plain before him, and, il pos
sible, he searched with even greater
diligence, and at last his reward
came, after a long year Of failure.
One day. in tho early part of
October, while wandering near the
mouth of small creek which en-
ptied into the Mississippi, be saw
what looked like part Of a skiff,
sticking out Of q mound of rotten
leaves and mould. In an instant