The Wilmington daily Republican. (Wilmington, Del.) 1890-1902, 1898-11-12

night, but it was impossible to identif,
single landmark. l was in one of tn,
most unproductive sections of the Mis-
sissippi. To my right was a cottor
field, few bolls, like feoks Of snow
showing what remained Of the frs
picking, and in the distance was q sim
liar prospect To my left the fields
reaching as far as the vision extended
gave no signs of having been cultivated
for years. On the edge Of the horizon
appeared house, or, rather, a grove Of
trees, from which column of smoke,
lazily ascending, disclosed that dwell.
ing was Nesting within their embrace.
1t was evident that had come out Of
the swamp at some point quite distant
from where entered it, for everything
appeared new.
1t was to be supposed that the single
dwelling in sight was near some high
way, toward which I decided to press,
debating on the way whether to stop at
the residence of the planter, applying
for food and appealing to that chivalry
which IL ones@ the most marked char
acteristics of southerners. Surely I
could convince some one to dissociate
me from the miscreant that had brought
all this trouble. When an ignorant
negro like Pete noted the fact with only
the starlight to aid him, there ought to
be more than one white man with pene-
trating vision.
This, say, ought to be the fact, but
my experience on the previous evening
warned me that 1t was unsafe to count
upon it. had stood for part OF an hour
face to face with mob in the glare Of
light that showed my face and figure
clearly, and yet every one Of them be-
lieved me to be Hank Boyer, and that.
too, when Boyer himself was in the
room and one Of my aocusers.
1t must be confessed that my torment.
ing hunger was the deciding factor in
the problem. I determined to take the
risk and make my way to the home of
the planter, announcing myself as the
victim Of strange combination Of cir.
cumstances and begging that if I was to
be lynohed I might have the privilege
of perishing without the additional
pang Of starvation.
From where stood the ground was
open until distance of several hundred
feet was reached, when zigzag fence
led in the direction Of the house upon
which had fixed my hopes. Here and
there trees were growing, and in some
places the grass and weeds attained un-
usual height. These would afford par
tial concealment should 1t be necessary
to appeal to anything Of that nature.
The ground around me remained wet
and spongy, but the rising slope proved
that dry soil would soon be reached.
These reflections occupied much less
time than has been taken in the telling.
Turning my back on the swamp that
had been the scene Of so many stirring
experiences, I strobe in the direction Of
the plantation, little dreaming of the
still more extraordinary adventures that
awaited me.
The most puzzling features Of the
situation just then were the silence and
inactivity Of the vigilantes that
had pursued me into Black Mans
swamp. There must have been q large
number of men there, all armed and &C.
by a pack Of hounds SEEM
ingly with the ability to trail an eagle
through the air, but when I looked
around not a living man or animal was
visible, nor did any sound issue from
the dismal reoesses to show they were
within the swamp.
The curious situation was inexplain-
able, yet 1t had the best Of causes, Of
whose nature never dreamed.
With the zigzag fence on my left I
had not walked far when something in
the appearance Of the rails in advance
that were serving me as guide arrested
my attention. 1t was as if one Of the
that supported the hori.
,ontal rails had suddenly become en-
lowed with life. It moved and wabbled
lnaccountably and suggested that per-
on Or animal had something to do with
IL. Stopping short and studying it for
minute or two, the explanation ap-
peared-a man was leaning with one
arm on the top of the fence and waving
his hat with the other. Moreover, lie
was a negro, and since his face was
turned toward me it was evident he was
making some kind Of signal for my
benefit.
So far as I could ascertain, he had no
and nothing, therefore, was
to be apprehended in approaching him.
walked forward at a rapid pace, while,
looming his old hat, he came forward to
meet me. His black countenance glowed
With pleasure, mixed, as it seemed to
ne, with some misgiving. He had no
Weapon, but carried basket in one
,and, and recognized him as Erastus
Brown, Colonel Mansley's servant.
"Hello, Marse Hankl' he said when
within speaking distance. "I'ze been
ookin fur yo'."
"What do you want of me?''
"I'ze got letter for yo'. Hole on
Setting down his basket, he began
lurriedly searching his clothing for the
nissive, while looked on more perplex.
d than ever. A letter for mel Who
vas the writer, and what could it meanl
As the search progressed it became al.
lost furious. He damned big hand
rst under one shoulder, then under the