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‘.‘WISDOM, JUSTICE AND MODERATION.'
VOLUME XXV.
ROME, GA.; FRIDAY MORNING, JUNE 30, 1871.
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SAVANNAH
I CORNING news.
Till SAVANNAH MORNING NEWS is now
‘aiTWENTY-FIRST year of its existence,
cliiirlnowlcdged by the Press as one of the
leading Dailies in the South.
I ui;eir3-gatherer, the MORNING NEWS is
I r w»eiic and enterprising—up with the times
v erW particular. It is carefully and vigor-
ady edited, and is emphatically 9, JOURNAL
if TO-DAY.
ijpolitics,it is earnestly and hopefully Uom-
Kiiifi and is an unwavering advocate and dis
ced the principles of 76.
I It is printed in the interests of the people of
I *j South, of Georgia, and of Savannah.
fhe current local nows of Georgia and Flori-
I -jijmade a speciality; the commercial depart-
I jciij fall and Tollable: and the genaral make-
1 «of the paper is fresh, sparkling and piquant,
reading matter is given in each issue than
stole found in any othor daily journal south
| tfLoaisville or easi of New Orleans.
lie MORNING NEWS has a circulation eqna
I that of any nowspaper printed in Georgia,
I double that of any other Savannah Jonrnal
1affording ono of the best advertising mo-
| fans in the country.
Jltiney sent by tho Southern Express Company
I ay be forwarded at our risk and at our ox-
I wife. Addrces
1 f J. H. ESTILL,
Savannah, Georgia.
THE NEW DEPARTURE.
We have watched with interest, partak
ing of curiosity and amusement, the courso
and the progress of the “New Departure,”
Its very name is suggestive of a recreancy
to principle, for the policy and the. princi
ples of modern politics are but the same—
a change of policy involves a change of
principle, and when the great Democratic
party of the nation consents to a material
change of its policy, it but paves the way
for a corresponding change in its
principles. We are told that the new de
parture is only a change of policy, a mapping
out of a new programme, whereby the time
honored principles of party can be more
expeditiously vindicated.
A change of base is s imetimcs necessa
ry in military strategy. A change of com
manders is also oftentimes conducive to
good results, but we never hear of a
„ -• change of colors unless there is treason in
3 “ th |, Cam P- 3 Tha “onment of our flag
rtiM»s> or , n —, nn is tho abandonment of our cause,and when
one lowers his flag in the dust, ho gives
np the cause for which he fought.
In this new departure we cannot help
but see a lowering cf tho colors—not a
change of policy, but a change of pricci-
4 pies; not a change of leaders, but a bodily
transfer of rank and file into the camp of
the enemy.
If the measures of the Republican party
arc to bc accepted as fixed facts, what is
there to distinguish the two parties ono
from the other. If the principles of But
ler, of Morton and of Sballabargcr, are to
prevail, instead of the doctrines of Jeffer
son, of Madison, and of Calhoun, what is
the use of a party organization at all ? If
wo are not to fight them upon the great
questions of State sovereignty, vs centrali
zation and despotism, what are we to fight
them upon ? If the new departure means
—as it can only mean—a departure from
the principles that once gave life and vi
tality to the Democratic party, what i3 tho
use of urging any one to fall into its sweep,
for it only leads into Republicanism, and
if it is for the purpose of strengthening
the principles of that party, it would per
haps bc best to step at once into its ranks,
and become a part of its organization.—
There can be only one object in main
taining the Democratic organization, under
the new departure, and that would be to
oust the ins, and to place the ents in. This
object is a very poor one, hardly worthy
the serious efforts of a great party. The
emoluments of office only benefit tho in
cumbents, and when no principle is in
volved, cannot affect the interest of the
people.
It is not that we want the laws adminis
tered, and the country governed by our
personal friends, but that wo want them ad
ministered and governed upon principles
of sound governmental justice am^truth.
If there is to be no difference in the prin
ciples of the two parties, we can see no
great reason thatwc should exercise a pref
ercnce for the candidates.
We would not be understood as repudi
ating the validity of the reconstruction
measures. They have, when brought to
the test been declared valid by the only,
power recognized in the government as com
petentto test their validity, and as long as
they remain nnrepealed, we arc hound to
snbmit to and obey them.
If the new departure intends to convey
this principle, we can endorse it, bnt if it
goes beyond this, and claims that being val
id, they are at the same time unalter
able, irrevocable and final, then we are free
to confess that the new departure has at
tained a very wide and wonderfnl deviation
from our ideas of the true theory of the
American government. It is a * departure
that we cannot follow, because it carries
with it the abandonment of all that is true
and good in onr government, and leads ir-
resistahly into a centralized despotism.
And here again we are liable to he mis
construed, and the opposition that wc hold
against the principle of Congressional in
terference with State prerogatives, may be
taken as an opposition to the practical ef
fects of that interference. Wo do not
object to negro suffrage, if it is conferred
by the people of the States themselves in
terested, but wc do object to it when forced
upon us by tho people of another and dis
interested State.
[ The Weekly News.
The WEEKLY NEWS is a large, neatly
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tain* an are rage of
| Thirty Columns Reading Matter.
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kaev sent by the Southern Express Company
nt be forwarded at onr risk and at our expense;
J. II. ESTIIX,
Savannah, Georgia.
made off with his booty, leaving the old
man for dead. He then made for the rail
road and hailed a passing train, got aboard
and was put off at Cave Spring, where he
began to exhibit and spend his money with
a profusion that attracted immediate atten
tion.
In the meantime the senseless body of
his victim had been discovered, and the
terrible fact made known, and parties were
put at once upon the track of the scoundrel.
Being still in Cave Spring, the negro was
arrested, and a part of the money recover
ed, bnt unfortunately ho broke from the
custody of Mr. J. T. Mann, who was con
ducting him to the callaboose, and made
his escape.
Previous to his arrest he had deposited
ninety dollars with a gentleman, from whom
he afterwards withdrew twenty, leaving
seventy dollars in his hands.
Ho had also deposited ono hundred and
two dollars with his brother, a negro liv
ing in Cave Spiing. This, with the seven
ty dollars, made one hundred and seventy
two dollars, all that has yet been recovered.
Mr. Borden was i'omediate'y carried to
the.house of Dr. Carswell, where every at
tention was paid to his wants, and he was
soon restored to consciousness, and is now
fully restored to his senses, and can relate
the'particnlars of tho assault. He is however
stiil in a critical condition, and bnt little
hope of his recovory is entertained.
THE TRI-WEEKLY
HORNING NEWS.
v
1 He TPJ-WEEKLY MORNING NEWS pre-
. k&ll the best features of the Daily and Week-
! tuitions, and is made up with an eye to the
tab of the farming community of Middle,
, ^ c m and South-western Geoigia. It con-
* U tho LATEST COMMERCIAL and
‘^EGKAPHIC INTELLIGENCE up to the
J?* going to press, and tho very large cireu-
r 10 * to which it has attained convinces us
>t fills a high place in public estimation.
•3® Tri-weekly New3 will bo sent to any ad*
' !S one year for $6 00; six months, $3 00.
ttoney sent \>y the Southern Express Compa-
our risk and expense. Address
. J. H. ESTEIX,
.meiotwlm Savannah. Georgia.
best CABINET ORGANS
At the Lowest Prices.
T
U*t the mason a hamlin cabinet or-
° are be9t in tho world it proved by the
ks h u ( ? &n ‘ mous opinion of professional music-
• 7 the award to them of seventy-five
Gold and Silver Medals
F*ai*is Exposition,
Tor y much greater than that of any
This Company manufac-
raUlass instruments, and will not
itferin.; P or gau8*' at any price, or suffer an
in? ‘jmrument to bear their name. Hav-
fcetJL t/.\ ncr . ea8Q d their facilities for mann
ed otJwSL- 6 } ntr ®d«cUon of new machinery
°SGAVQ?L ,e ' th °y aro no ^ making BETTER
w\M han EVER BEFORE, at Increased
* xe d Doi;,! U c ° 8t » w hich, in accordance with their
tir* w filing always at least remunera-
PfEEloh now offorin k at PRICES of
Plain w., B w OKK, FOUR OCTAVE ORGANS,
FIVE OCTAVE OR-
*td pin.i "1 Reed, Solid walnut case, carved
CS with FIVE STOPS (Viola, Diap-
u,le * lapro^on' 0 * 8 ' ^ remu * ant )> $l* s > Other
•ttsted f “il particulars, including ac-
0 „ 1 . **** of the different styles of organs,
V ' l *tr» r.„ m i 0nnat ‘ on which will bo of service
nolj” “““ of an organ, will be sent free
tRSU? an y °»» desiring them.
■^Trsn,^ 80114 HAMLIN ORGAN CO.
T *
LUDhER ABATES.
Sayannah; Ga.
‘"“'•‘rtandwl,.
DIABOLICAL ATTEMPT AT MURDER
AND HIGHWAY ROBBERY.
The citizens of the lower end of this
and the Western end of Polk county were
shoeked Thursday morning by the an-
noncement that Mr. Borden, an estimable
citizen of Cherokee co, was brutally mur
dered and robhed of a considerable amount
of money while on his way to this city.—
The facts of the horrible affair are those,
so far as wo have been able to ascertain
from Sheriff Lnmpkin and others.
Mr.John Borden left his home on Tar-
apin Creek, Alabama, for tho purpose of
coming to the city to discharge a debt.—
Mrs. Borden, who has arrived in the city,
says that she coanted the package of mon
ey, containing three hundred dollars, and
that her husband had some other money
about his person, but how much she docs
not know.
Mr.’ Borden had reached a. point near
Dr. Carswell’s, three milos from tho city,
where he was accosted by a negro named
Anderson Piior, who approached him from
behind, and appeared anxious to enter into
a conversation. Mr. Bordon avoided tho
familiarity, and reined his horse to ono side
of the road, but did not apprehend any
danger from personal violonoo. Suddenly
he felt a blow upon his shoulder, and turn,
ing he saw the negro in the act of striking
him again when he sprang from his horse
alighting npon tho opposite side. He had
hardly touched the ground before the fiend
repeated his blow, and he wis stricken
across the head with such force as to knock
him senseless. Tho negro then rifled his
pookets and stripped him of his coat, and
The entire community of Cave Spring
and Cedartown, is on the hunt for the
wretched robber, and it is hardly possible
that be can escape. The most intense ex
citement prevails. The murderer, if ar
rested, will pay tho penalty of his hellish
deed.
GEORGIA AFFAIRS.
The Savannah Advertiser requests its
exchanges to notify the public that the
travelling agency of that journal is with
drawn liom Mr. A. S. Canuet, and he is
no longer authorized to transact any busi
ness for it. Mr. Goo. W. Hashing has been
appointed its representative in the coun
try.
The Comptroller’s report is in the hands
of the printers, and will soon be placed be
fore the public.
The Columbus Sun says :
An old negro man, Abraham Holland,
by name, was found dead, early Sunday
morning, in Broad street, in the neighbor
hood of the Public Garden. He was qnitc
ah old man. The day before ho had been
at Mrs. Barden’s, where he had been giv
en breakfast, dinner and supper. He then
left to go across the street to see and lodge
with a negro man who lived over there.—
He never reached his destination, but fell
dead in the street and amid darkness. The
lifeless body was found after daylight. A
coroner’s inquest was held. The verdict
was the deceased came to his death from
some disease of the lungs—superinduced
by too much exposure in water. He
had lately been employed in fishing, and
would wade much in the water.
The Constitution says :
Judge Hopkins yesterday refused to
grant the motion for a new trial in the case
of Dr. Westmoreland. We learn that the
case will be taken to tho Supreme Court.
The Savannah News reports the follow
ing :
Mr. John Motarty, a brother of Mr.
Patrick Motarty, of this city, was drowned
between four and five o’clock yesterday af
ternoon, in the first reach of St. Augus
tine Creek. While on his way on board of
a schooner, bound to Beaulieu, with a par
ty of friends, his hat blew off, and he
jumped into a small boat to recover it. He
reached the hat and succeeded in getting
it. In attempting to get from the boat to
the schooner he fell into the water. A line
was thrown to him, but failing to catch it,
he sunk and did not rise again.
The same paper gives the following :
A few nights ago a colored gentleman
of considerable standing in the communi
ty, particularly among the lady members,
walked into a grocery store and bought a
fine large ham for his Sunday dinner, and
took oat his pocket book, containing his
week’s wages, in order to pay fot his ham.
While holding his pocket book in his hand
a nice looking mulatto girl, dressed in the
height of fashion, rushed in at the door,
and falling npon the young man’s neck,
exclaimed in the most affectionate manner,
Oh, how glad I am to meet you again,,
my long lost brother.”
The lost brother submitted to the affec-.
tionate demonstration with some astonish
ment, bnt before ho could obtain an expla
nation, liis.sister was gone, and so was his
pocket bock.
Rushing out of the door, he came in sud
den and disagreeable contact with a col
ored brother, whom he had arrested and
brought before Justice P. M. Russell, Jr.,
on a charge of assault and battery, dm
explanation of the case satisfied all parties
as well as the Justice, and it was amicably
settled. Bnt the newly found sister and
the pocket book are still among the miss
ing- .
University of Alabama.—This no
ble old Institution has been redeemed from
the polntion of radical hands. The drun
ken vagabonds and stnpid asses have been
driven out, and competent men—good and
trne, have been put in their places.
The following is the Faculty, elected by
the recent meeting of the Board of Bet
ents :
President Commodore Maury, Professor
of Moral Science; Rev. Telfair Hodgson,
Greek; W. A. Parker, Latin; W. A. Wy-
manjPuro Mathematics, D. L. Peck; Eng
lish Literature, B. F. Meek; Modern Lan
guage, J. G. Griswold, of Virginia; Mixed
Mathematics, W, M. J. Vaughn; Chemis
try, M. T. Lupton; Geometry, E. A, Smith
Commandant, G. P. Harrison; Professor of
Natural History and Surgeon, Dr. A. S.
Garnett. Peek is tho only one of the old
Faculty.
We congratulate tho Board upon its ex
cellent work, and appeal to the people of
Alabama to rally te tho support of tho dear
old University.
Hottest Day of the Season.—Last
Thursday, tho 22nd inst., was the hottest
in Rome this summer. At noon the Ther
mometer stood at 93° in the shade. Pre
viously it had not been above 88° except
one day when it was 91°. i
OUR NOVEL.
CHAP. IX.
the pic-sic.
[C'cniuwsJ.]
‘What a pity he is going away so soon.’
Miss Debby continued, as they hovered
like two restless birds of prey upon the
outskirts of the crowd. ‘I wanted him here
to receive the scorn of the. community,’
and a little; just a little bit of savagenxss
was quivering upon her voice.
‘I don’t know,' rather dubiously respon
ded her Shadow, ‘he will deny it yon know,
and her Shadow, shuddered as-an instinc
tive dread of the fine eye and strong arm
of Hiram arose before his consciousness.
‘But what if he does,’ valiantly replied
Miss Debby—strong in the consciousness
of a feminine dnty, ‘didn’t wo both sco
him, and can’t I face him in it,’she added,
with a sharp clutch of her owl-liko fingers
npon her Shadow’s bony arm. Her Shad
ow flinched a doable flinch—one from the
sharp clntch of the owl-like fingers npon
his bony arm, the other from the precarious
consequences of facing him in it.
•Yes,’ he replied, ‘bat I am glad that he
is going,’ and then gathering conrage with
the assurance that he was going, her Shad
ow continued, ‘Yon see when he’s gone, we
can he all the freer to tell all that we know
and to speak onr minds.’
‘That’s so, Major,’ acquiesced Miss Deb
by; ‘and I intend to tell all that I know,
and to -speak my mind too; yes, that I will’
she continued, with a return of her little
savagoness, ‘even if it does bring down the
proud head of old Eustace’s hyfaluting
daughter.’
‘And old Muggleton’s simpering little
weneb,’ nngallantly added her shadow.
!Oh. she’s hardly worth noticing,’ quick
ly retorted Miss Debby, with an air af high
disdain, ‘she’s too little game I love to see
the big ones turn Die.’
‘Don’t yon, though,’ greedily confided
her Shadow.
‘Yes I do,’ and Miss Debby drew in a
long breath of pare delight.
The lengthening shades of evening alone
suggested the breaking up of tho party,
and the lights of home were kindly twink.
ling through the windows ere the more dis
tant of its gay members had reached
theirs.
Hiram’s ride home was one of embarrass
ed silence on his part. Viola chattered
away with a girl’s happy voice, only paus
ing now and then to wonder what it was
that tronbled Hiram’s brow. The wonder,
however, was unexpressed, and had sue
haveenqniredthe cause he would have been
equally puzzled to answer it A vague,
undefined, and nnlocated terror oppressed
his sonl, bnt whence it came, what it was,
or what it portended, he had not tho cour
age to ask himself. It may havo been the
shadows of parting, setting so darkly in
tho morrow’s eve, that fell upon the light
of his face. It may have been the stil
darker shadows of “coming events” that
shot ont the gladness of his heart—what
ever it was, it weighed like a leaden enrse
npon his sonl, and sealed the words of his
lips.
Emma’s thoughts were cloudod by no
soch vague disqnietness. On the contra
ry, they were strangely buoyant A new
song seemed trilling in her ears, and a new
light seemed kindled in her eyes. Had
Emma have asked herself why this glad*
ness, she could not have answered, any
more than Hiram coaid have answered the
gloomy portends of his own son). She on
ly knew that it bubbled up fresh from the
hidden springs of her heart, and she im
bibed its exhiliaration without a thought of
its source, or of its end.
It was quite dark when Hiram, after re
turning his sweet charge to her fond ma
ma, reached his home. Mrs. Lavender’s
eyes beamed as bright a welcome as did the
flickering lights in the window. Tea was
ready, but Hiram scarcely tasted a mouth
ful.
‘You did not enjoy yonr pic-nic, Hiram’
said his mother, with a slight uneasiness.
‘Oh yes,’ he answered, ‘the- day was a
very pleasant one indeed,’ and Hiram pat
on an effort to look cheerful. Bnt the at
tempt was a cheat, and his mother detected
it at a glance,
'You look tired,’ she said in a quiet,
motherly voice.
■Yes it is but a natural lassitude that fol
lows a joyous excitement. The day was
so pleasant that I need not bnt expect the
evening to he dull. Yet, for your sake,
mother,’ he added, arising from his
seat, and hovering over his mother, ‘I must
make the evening pleasant too. It is too
selfish to have nil the enjoyment of the day
to myself, and bring yon nothing bnt a
pettish discontent.
‘Oh, I spent a very pleasant day my
self—I had a visitor,’ replied-Mrs. Laven
der.
‘Yes, Mrs. Eustace spent tho afternoon
with me,’ continned bis mother.
‘1 am glad to hear it,’ said Hiram,
brightening np.
Hiram looked np with a slight start.
‘And she left a joy in my heart, Hiram,
hardly ever before felt;’ and Mrs. Laven
der looked np in the face of her son with
a prond and happy tenderness.
Hiram’s face flashed.
‘Was it about Emma 1 ’ he asked.
‘Yes, about Emma and about yon, 'my 1
son,’ and the fond mother pulled her strong
son’s head down to her face, and lovingly
nestled her nose in the bright, brown
locks.
‘She has told you of our hopes, mother”
‘Yes, she has told me of your hopes.’
‘And your blessing, mothor, goes out
with my love,’ asked the son.
‘Yes my blessing—my heart’s purest
blessing, rests npon you and npon the no
ble girl that yon love,’ answered the moth
er with a trembling voice and a tearful eye.
‘Then this evening ought no longer to be
dull,’ and ho kissed his mother again and
again.
‘And Mrs. Eustace loves and blesses yon
too,’ spoke the mother with a joyous utter
ance.
‘And may Heaven alway help mo to de
serve it,’ answered Hiram with a drooping
of the voice.
‘Amen’ was all the mother coaid say.
A silence ensued—broken at last by Hi
ram, who frankly repeated to his mother
the evenings interview with Emms..
<1 am not so sure, Hiram, that it was not
best to apprise Mr. Eustace of yonr inten
tions,’ said Mrs. Lavender, after he had
concluded.
‘It was only in deference to Emma’s
wishes, and the opinion of her mother that
I promised not to do so,’ he answered.
•Perhaps they are right, and this may
not he the proper time,’ replied the moth
er. I have a strong faith in yonr success,
Hiram, and Mr. Eustace is a very proud
man, and success with him is' the test of
merit. Your success in life secures his
friendship, and whatever he has heretofore
thought of you, he will be proud to bestow
the hand of his child npon yon.’
‘It is a prize worth struggling for,’ Hii
ram answered, with a glow, of enthusiasm
fighting np. his handsome face.
‘Yes, a Rachael worth a fourteen years of
toil,’ for Mrs. Lavender well knew tho
worth of Em na Eustaces' true and better
nature.
‘And I am willing to toil for her,’ said
Hiram.
‘And I will guard her so tenderly for
you,’ replied Mrs. Lavender
‘And yet, Hiram.’ Mrs. Lavender said
after a moment’s troubled thought.
‘And yet, what, mother?’ he asked as
his mother hesitated to speak.
‘It is perhaps best not said,’ replied Mrs.
Lavender with an uneasy expression.
‘There should be no secrets between ns,
Mother,’ half entreated aod half argued
Hiram.
‘I was going to say, Hiram, that I once
hoped that Viola would have married yon.’
Mrs. Lavender said this in a slightly re
gretful tone, as if the hope was not given
up withont a pang.
Hiram started with a pained surprise.
‘Oh, no, mother, I had never thought of
that. Viola is all too good for n.e. She is
so young, so artless, so innocent, pure and
good, that I coaid never think of her only
as a sweet sister—a precions sister,' he
added, with a brother’s trne enthusiasm.
‘Perhaps it is best jis it is,’ answered his
mother. ‘Viola is a tender flower that
onght to be lovingly cherished, and it
was for her sake, Hiram, more than your
own, that I had hoped to seo her destiny
placed in yonr keeping.'
Mrs. Lavender said this in a tone that
told how strong was her mother’s faith in
the truth of her son. Hiram deprecated
the implicitness of her faith, for he con
sciously felt that he was not worthy so great
a trust.
‘No, mother.’ he said, ‘I hope that Viola
will find a heart more trne than mine to
love and to bless her. She is worth more
than I can ever give. Snch excellence as
hers is all too pare and bcantifnl for snch a
lovo as mine. I can love her with a broth
er’s protecting love, just as I love her ex
cellent mother with o love that knows
no degree of tenderness from the love I
bear to yon, my own dear mother.’ And
this strong manly voice spoke as softly as a
little child’s, and again his manly head was
bowed to the face of his mother.
They arose from the table and returned
to the porch.
‘Mother,’ asked Hiram, ‘why has yonr
brother never visited yon?’
Mrs. Lavender’s voice was choked with
a sob as she replied:
‘It has always troubled me to know.
Gordon was once devotedly fond of me, bnt
since that long and terrible journey to
South America, he has not been the same
to me. I have seen him bnt onee since,
and then he was so altered from the light
hearted, dear,] loving brother that be was
when I released him from my arms three
years before, that I could not know him os
a brother. There was nothing in his na
ture to remind me of my boy brother, and
I turned from him then and there with a
strange- feeling of distrnst and alienation.
He did not seem to care for my love, and
has never sought my presence sinee,. When
onr misfortune came npon ns, I applied to
him for help, but—but—,’ and here tho
widow broke down in her voice, and Hiram
concluded—
‘Bnt he refused to help yon?’
‘He did not answer my letters. Perhaps
he never received them,’ replied the widow,
eager to clutch at the slightest sprig of
charity.
Hiram pondered a moment in silence,
and then he spoke in a half indignant tone:
“I do not care to visit him, mother. The
long neglect with which he has treated yon
shows that he is unfeeling, and I care not
to know more of him.’
‘No, Hiram, I cannot think that. Per
haps he and his family think that the cold-:
ness is on onr part. I want yon to stop in
Norfolk and see them, and may be, the ice
will be broken, and be may be reconciled
to ns again.
A sister’s old love prompted these words.
The kindly heart of Mrs. Lavender yearn
ed for the sympathy of her long silent bro
ther; and she had enjoined it npon Hiram
that he should stop at his boose, near Nor
folk, on his way to Harvard.
Hiram’s harsher pride, bnoyednpbya
just resentment, mnrmared at bis mother’s
wishes, bnt he was too anxious to please her
in all her designs, to interpose any farther
remonstrance.
'It may be, Hiram,’ his mother added,
seeing that the acquiescence of her son was
made alone in deference to her, 'that yonr
nncle Gordon thinks tnat I feel unkindly
towards him, because of the partial nature
of my father’s will, bnt this is not the ease.
God knows'I cared not if he did inherit
the greater part of my father’s great wealth.
That to me was nothing, and Gordon onght
to have known me better than to suppose
I would blame him for it.
'Perhaps,' replied Hiram with a bitter
tone, he was oonsoions of the great injus
tice he did yon in contending so harshly
for what was so rightly yonr own. It is
always easier to forgive those who have in
jured ns, than it is to think kindly of those
whom we have injured.’
'That is true, Hiram, bnt I do not feei
that my brother has injured me.’ Mrs
Lavender said this In a frank generous
tone. ‘I feel his cold neglect, bnt not any
injustice in claiming the property his father
jueathed him. He was his only son,
ana my father almost idolized him; and be
sides I had a fortune then of my own, or
yonr father had one, Hiram, and no wrong
conld be done mejn leaving the Beal estate
to Gordon.’
‘Yon say that his life has teen one of
strange adventure?’ asked Hiram after a
moment’s pause.
Yes, he was of a restless roving dispo
sition when a boy, and frequently ran away
from school and went to sea. Even at the
early age of twelve be ventured aboad a
schooner, and mads the voyage to Glasgow,
and hack withont letting .ns know where he
was until he suddenly appeared before ns
on his return. His last voyage was made
six yean afterwards. He started the day
after I was married. Even that wa3 a
clandestine on. He was led by bis evil ge
nius, Charley "Villapnghe, and together
they shipped in a vesral bound for Mazatlan
on the Pacific coast. The vessel was wreck
ed npon the coast of Chili and ho and his
companion fell in with a party that-was
preparing to cross the Cordilleras, and
they readily joined them. After the most
ty rechcd Rio de Janeiro; the others all
perishing upon the Andes. And Gordon,
when he returned was so altered that we
hardly knew hin*. To me he has never,
been the same since, My father only lived
a few days after his return, and was si re
joiced at the safe delivery of his son that
he willed him - almost his entire estate.
Bat I cared not for that, Hiram, if Gordon
would have only loved me as he did before
he went away, I conld have readily yielded
him all that my father desired him to have.
It was his great snffcrings though that al
tered his nature,’generously pleaded .the
gentle heariSd sister “we know not what he
suffered ’
‘It mast have been terriblo’ said Hiram
‘to have so changed him.’
‘His very heart seemed frozen’ replied
his mother with a sickening shndder. -‘Time
perhaps has warmed it again,’ she -added
with a hopeful sigh.
‘I will see mother, and for yonr sake
hope it has.’ answered Hiram as he tender
ly patted his mother’s head.
It was late at night before Hiram retir
ed to his bed. and then it was not to
sleep- ---J
The events of tho past few days were too
confused and crowded npon his mind to ad
mit of order or repose. The almost
wild cxtacy ofbis new born' hopes shut out
all presence of sleep. The nearly develop
ed love that thrilled his every nerve conld
not be soothed into silence, bnt kept sing
ing its songs of hope and joy into his pant
ing soul. Newly developed did we say?
Yes, newly developed, but not new—for all
unconsciously to himself it bad been wind
ing its silken chords around his heart even
from the time of his boyhood. Day after
day the silken meshes were thickened and
while his petnlcnt fancy would have scorn’,
ed to do homage to the proud court of Em
ma Eustace, his secret heart was creeping
like a poor worm at her feet.
And now that Hiram nndersteod his
own feelings; that he knew bis whole sonl
was wrapped in the power of Emma, that
his all of life depended upon her, he conld
not Bleep because an uneasy dread would
creep into his heart, and chill the warmth'
of his glowing hopes.
And when at length, after the night
had well nigh been spent in restless' tos
sings npon his pitlow, sleep did come with
the first stray streaks'of dawn, it was a
fitful sleep, crowded with strange shapes
and incongruous fancies. Serpent shapes
would creep stealthily in and ont of the
flowers that nodded by his path; serpent
eyes would twinkle from the raven hair of
his dream idol, and a serpent’s hiss wohld
intercept the music that floated from her
Ups; and then these serpent shapes would
assume an identity—their riaunns move
ments passed into the graceful motions of
Mr. Augustas Frazee. These serpent eyes
that twinkled from the raven tresses of his
dream idol, were the same that had sent
a chill of aversion into the heart of Viola.
That dream idol was Emma Eustace, pale
as death, with nothing bnt her rare, al
most unearthly beanty left to tell his bleed
ing heart who it was. The serpent hiss
that intercepted the mosie of her voice
was the nasal twang that marked the ac
cent of the fascinating Mr. Augustas Fra
zee, for to the other rich endowments of
Mr. Augustas Frazee, he hailed from the
land of “steady habits.” He was a Yankee
fall fledged and brazen.
No wonder that Hiram started from
such a sleep with a nameless terror, and
sprang from his bed with a gladness that it
was only a dream, and that morning had
come.
CHAP. X.
fateful Shadows.
The morning was busily oeenpied by
Hiram in completing his arrangements for
the Monday's departure. The occupation
was qnite a relief to his serpent-haunted
mind, for notwithstanding the physical
fact that Hiram would not have shrank from
an encounter with any number of serpents
—would have even dared to combat the
terrible monster that so unceremoniously
whitened Mr.'Middleton Muggleton’s locks
upon the eastern Blope of the Andes, yet
he shrank with terror from the little green
eyed devils that wound themselves in and
out of his brain, leaving their slimy tracks
to chill his sonl, and shuddered at the
whisper of Dolly, as if it was the hissing
he heard in his dream.
The packing of his baggage, the writing
of letters, arranging of his mother’s papers
consumed the forenoon. After dinner he
arranged his dress with almost dandyish
care, and with an almost impatient eager
ness he set ont for the* Eustace mansion.
The walk was a pleasant one. The same
grand old trees that had shaded the path
years ago, when he attended his mother np
on her walk, gave their grateful boughs
and bright green leaves to shelter it still.
The same broad park spread its well trim-
ed paths before him, and Hiram thought, as
he stopped on a little eminence to admire
tiie scene, that a more beautiful home conld
not be found in all the world. The inha
lation of the wondrous beanty of the scene
exhifiarated his spirits, and he soon began
to torn over again the brightness of his
new-bam love. How tenderly bis heart
laid hold of that love, we need not tel! onr
readers. We old codgers who have once
npon a time trod the same rosey-arehed
ath, have bnt to recall the day “O Lang
lyne,” to realize what he felt.
Yon young laddies, with thoughts jnst
eginning to wander from bat and ball, gun
and dogs, to rosy cheeks and sparkling
eyes, have only to look_ ahead into a few
coming years, and yon too will he able to
realize what he felt. And when yon do,
my blooming yonths, you will not wonder
at the elasticity of his tread, or the glad
ness of his whistle.
‘Bnt did ho whistle, though ?’
Yes, as merrily as a mocking bird, and
all as unstudied and qaito as unconscious
ly, and it was a glad sight to see him—the
great, tall handsome man, winding through
that lordly path catching a leaf here—
a beam of joy light
ing his face, and a song of hope trilling
from his lips. We wonder if he ever will
walk that path as gladly again.
9 His glad whistle was cot short by his
arrival at the gate, the same gate against
whose cold iron baas he had leaned as a lit
tle bey to admire the wonderfnl beanty of
the flowers that bloomed within. And well
was it that the gate cut short his whistle,
or else it would hare been frozen in his
throat at the right of Mr. Augustus Fra-'
zee, pacing with the easy grace of a. mon
arch, that portico into which bnt a. few
evenings before he had led Emma as the
' minister of his life,
am conld scarcely conceal his aston
ishment as he returned the salutation of
Mr. Eustace. Mr. Eustace noticed it net,
bnt Mr. Augustus Frazee was not so ob
tuse, and the surprise seemed to afford him
a slight triumph, a* he turned to salnte
Hiram, which he did with the air of a po
lite host, receiving an unexpected stran
ger.
‘Will Mr. Lavender be seated,’ politely
bowed Mr. Augustus Frazee,
‘No, I thank yon,’replied Hiram, almost
speechless at the fellow’s impudence, *1
called to pay my respects to the ladies,’ he
added, turning to Mr. Eustace.
Mr. Eustace rang for a servant, andHi
ram was conducted to the parlor. Had
been greater. *A stranger to the house
hold yesterday, and to-day, an unusual day,
too, (Saturday) a familiar guest in the
prond house of one of the proudest of Fair
field’s lords, what can it mean.’ This rapid
ly revolved Hiram over again and again in
his mind, as hs reclined rather than set in
his seat.
In a moment Emma entered radian*
with smiles and beanty. One glance of her
bmmingeye iris sufficientmelt his rig-
id apger, andHiram areae^Jio meet her
‘I onght to apologize for my early ap
pearance,’ he said after the first solntatioa
“bnt”—
‘Ob, yon ire none too soon, Hiram,' she
answered, with > a frankness ’ that Hiram
thought exceedingly pretty.
‘Emma, I am glad to hear yon speak it,’
he answered with a sparkling gladness.
‘Yes,’ Emma contnmed;'‘I Was glad that
yon came, for 1 have been bored almost be
yond endurance today.' Th<s 1 last was
added in a tone of vexation.
Hiram looked his surprise as he led her
to a sofa, and seated hirasolf by her side.
■^Yon look surprised,' she said, ‘but yon
know not what a miserable bore Mr. Fra
zee is.’
How came : him here ?' Hiram asked
with a directness more practical than po
lite. '.
Father met him at the Union Club last
night, and was so well pleased with him
that he invited him to spend the season
with ns, which invitation he as readily ac
cepted, and so early this morning he came
bag and baggage, and is how domiciled for
the autumn, as one of the family’ replied
Emma, with an ill-concealed chagrin.
‘Oh, that’s it is it,' said Hiram, half to
himself; and then added, more aloud, ‘I
hope that yon will not find him snch a
bore after you get better acquainted 'with
him.’
‘Better acquainted with" him,’ she arid
with a venomous ? little shudder. That I
hope never to be—he is now os familiar
as if I had been nursed ia his lap. There
is hardly a room in the house that he has
not already explored.’
Hiram smiled at her earnestness^ and
the green eyed snakes that had been so
busily worming themselves in and ont of his
brain, were now all wriggling in the ago
nies of strangulation beneath the strong
heel of his faith. Keep yonr heel firmly
there, Hiram, and crash them in the dost.
‘That is excusable perhaps,’ said Hiram,
‘it is a prerogative of his nature and bis
birth.’
‘Oh yes, all - Yankees are inquisitive,'
he answered,, ‘bnt it happens that tfiat pe
culiarity is my favorite aversion.’
‘It is not a laudable trait,' replied Hi
ram, ‘and • especially to ns of the Sentb,
who have so little of it in onr own compo
sition.’
‘I am surprised at father,' Emma said
with energy, lie seems perfectly infatuated
with him.'
‘Yonr father is not usually bending in
bis sympathies with stiangeis,' answered
Hiram. , V r ..
‘No, but it seeems that Mr. Frazee has
won his good opinion, and I. fear; Hiram
that his influence will not be for good,’ As
Emma said this she reached ont her hand
to Hiram as if to ask him to save her from
her dread. Hiram caught the hand and
held it closely in his.
‘Emma,’ he answered, ‘I hope that yonr
fears are idle ones; and dearest, he contin
ued, drawing her head to his breast, ‘I do
so thank yon for this friendly confidence,
yon know not what , a monntain of uneasy
doubts it has removed from my sonl.'
For a moment that beautiful head rest
ed there—rested there in a delicious repose
and security it had never before known. It
that it had found its heaven, and having felt
found it, would gladly have remained pil
lowed there lorever. When she raised it
it was to rest her beaming eyes npon his
ipy face.
There should be nothing between ns,
Hiram; there shall be nothing between ns,
and if I speak as nnbecometh a proud la
dy, I hope that yon will appreciate my lan-
ge as the words of a loving woman.’
[appreciate the inestimable worth of
year loving heart, Emma, and shall never
mistrust,' replied Hiram, with a heart wildly
beating with its joy.
Ere Emma—happy Emma could reply a
tall shadow stretched across the earpet—a
tall form darkened the parlor door. Hiram
looked np with an angry surprise, and Em-
withdrew her head with an embarrass,
ed jerk. Mr. AngnstnsFrazee, unbidden,
and unannounced, entered the room.
With an air of condescending impudence
he srid:
I ought to beg pardon for this intrusion,
bnt I got tired of the open air, and eime
in to examine the pictures and the books.’
Emma’s face flashed with annoyance as
she answered,
Yon will find a better collection o r books
in the Library, Mr. Frazee.'
‘Oh these are sufficient," he coolly an
swered, as he drew his chair to the centre
table, and began carelessly to tumble the
volumes that chanced to be npon it.
Wo will not interrupt yonr studies, sir,
said Emma, as she arose. r ‘Hiram let ns
walk in the park.' ' *■
Hiram quickly arose and offered his arm
Mr. Angnstns Frazee also arose, bnt a fiery
glance ftom Hiram’s eye as-quickly seat
ed him again.
His impudence amounts to rudeness,’
half cried Emma, as they gained the open
air.
'Is yonr -father aware of his presump
tion ?’ asked Hiram*
‘Oh, father is so completely infatuated
with,his political sentiments that he can see
nothing else abont him.’
'Yery well, Emma, do not vex yonr
thongbts 'with him,’ replied Hiram, ‘the
few moments left ns this evening are too
precious to be wasted npon unpleasant
of action to my energies,
beacon'of hope to fight n
‘E.nrai sari!v shook her
‘Toe. are fall of angnul* lo me, Hir m.
The iu ti.c is t’ark, strangely dark Oh,
Hiram, if it -.rore-noi. tinmaidcnly in me,
-wonld bog you cot to go, nr il yon-most go,
to—to—atid hero Ihe. gentle girl hesita
ted.
*To mako you my own before I do go,’ ;
almost gasped Hiram, with a fullness of
sonl that dizzied his head.
Emma’s head rested npon his shoulder.
With a true hearted woman’s pare trust in
the man she loved, she had offered her
life to his keeping. Hir.mi did not scorn
it. Ho blessed her in his heart of hearts
for the offer; and often in the darkness of
his sorrow did he curse hrinse!f for not seiz
ing the precions jewel ihat was placed in
his grasp.
“Emma,’ be said, aod his voice was low
and fall, ‘Emma, my life, my bride, my
faith in your lore is stronger titan that. I
can trust yon, my darling, to the ends of
the earth; and the little distance that inter
venes daring my college career, cannot
loosen that faith, or sever our hearts.’
Emma started np with a pained look.
Hiram could net fathom the depths of her
love, or he wonld not have spoken thus.
Emma' felt this and the sense cat to her
heart
‘It is not that I doubted yon, Hiram, or
that I doubt myself, bnt I deubt.^graisr-
tune. A frowning fate is threatening my
hopes, and I feci that if wc part this even
ing, that we part to meet no more, as I hold
yon now.’
Hiram’s heart was touched The fate
ful shadow began to darken his view as
well, and it trembled upon his torgno to
ask the girl to go with him then and there
out npon the world, as his wife.
And Emma would have went with her
true woman's heart in her hand; and that
hand clasped lovingly in his, she wonld
have turned her back npon her father’s
prond walls, upon her father’s wealth,
npon all the world beside, contented and
happy, to walk side by side with him she
‘Hiram,’ Emma said, with a sharp pres
sure of his arm, ‘do yon know that I re
gret to see yon go.’
Hiram looked nnntterable words as he
answered,
‘The knowledge is a precions assurance
to me, Emma.’
‘And yon do not think it nnmridenly in
me, to confess it,’ she asked with an ear
nestness that made her manner all the
more bewitching to him.
‘Oh no, Emma, I canid net think that;
with the promise yon gave me yesterday, I
“uect no reservation of thought or cf
ling between us.’ And Hiram spoke this
in a tone so honest and frank that Emma
them in with a hungry eagerness.
d, Hiram, I dread to see yon go,’
she srid with a shudder;’ ‘a presentment of
evil oppresses my sonl, and I feel, Hiram,
that if the love we so fondly cling' to now
is to be a joy instead of a curse, that yon
should not go,’
Tho evening before Hiram conld have
mpathised with this vagne uneasiness,
for tho same gloomy forebodings choked
his own heart, bnt now a bright world of
of love and cf joy, was opened up
to him, and ho soothingly answered.
Emma, yon know not how mnch I shall
cherish yonr words—what a joy they will
be to me in my absence—what a stimulant
loved; trusting to him to lead and heeding
not, though it bc through impoverished
fields, or fortune's rosy paths
Bnt Hiram’s lips refused to otter the
wjrds bis heart so longed to speak. A
moment more and the spell was broken.
The golden moment was past. The fateful
shadow thickened into a midnight presence,
a presence so dark and so frowuiug, that it
conld almost he felt.
Emma shuddered as sho withdrew her
hand.
‘It may bc that yon arc right, Hiram,’
she said, ‘yon are not ready to many yet.
Yon have a name and a fame to earn; a
world to conciliate, and I might encumber
your efforts; yot believe me Hiram that no
earthly fame can ever make you dearer to
my heart, than yon aro this moment.’
‘And all earthly fame wonld be an nn-
meang tissue of nonsense unless shared and
sanctified by yonr precions love.’ he replied
with a tono that told how trnely he -felt tho
woid3 he said. And then after a moment
he continned: ‘I shall soon return Emma;
night and day I shall apply myself to my
studies, each moment gladdened with the
thought that it is for yon that I toil.’
After this the walk was continned in si
lence. Emma half rcproaehingly wonder
ing why she had so stooped from her wo
manly pride as to almost beg the man be
fore her to'to take herjfor his own; Hiram
looking at it in a fer different and truer
light, and secretly blessing the fullness of
that love that prompted the offer.
At length the gate that led to the high
way was reached. The snn was ready to
set. The hour of parting had come and
Hiram paused irresolute before the woman
he loved, as bnt few men can love. Bnt at
last the word was spoken, the parting was
over; Emma stood catching at thA fence for
support as her eys followed him far down
tho road. And then she turned with a
heavy heart and a listless tread to retrace
her steps to the honse.
M. Agnstns Frazee had completed his in
ventory of the hooks in the parlor, and
stood npon the steps to welcome her return
with tbc air of a familiar family man. -
- ‘Are we to congratulate ourselves upon
the riddence of yon fierce eyed gentleman,’
he asked in a tone intended to be conde
scendingly pleasant
‘I was not aware that yon were ia any
danger of being troubled with his presence’
Emma retorted with a sharpness- that
slightly unsettled the complacency of Mr.
Agustus Frazee.
‘Oh no his presence would be unbearable.
I conld not suffer mysell to 1 e tronbled by
it, for I would not permit it.’ and Mr. Au-
gnstusJFrazce'put on his fullest head of dig
nity.
‘Perhaps yon would not.’ answered Em
ma with an impatient stamp of her pretty
little foot.
‘Has Lavender gone?’ gn .’denly asked Mr.
Enstace, who though present had seemed
not to hear the words that had been , spok
en.
‘Yes sir, he is gone,’ and tho voice was
tremulous-with a weakning sense of loneli
ness.
‘Then I am glad he has, and I hope that
it is for good and all. It will save me the
disagreeble duty of ordering him oiit of my
honse.’ replied Mr. Eostaeo with an illbrcd
chuckle. ‘It's just the way Mr. Frazee
with these upstarts—only show them the
slightest attention and they walk right into
yonr house as if they were as good as yon
are. Now this fellow Lavender was invit
ed by Mrs. Eostaeo in a civil sort of a way
to eall npon her before he went away North,.
and because of this condescension, he has
been hanging around the house, and dang
ling after Emma, as if he had all his life
been used to snch treatment.’
‘The presumption of the lower class is
unbearable.’ said Mr. Fazec speaking as if
he was lifted high above the unattainable
reach of presumption.
Emma retired to her room, and cot until
she had turned the bolt ofher door, conld
she shnt ont from her mind’s eye the hate-
fill right of Mr. Agnstns Frazee.
And then when the thick walnut doer
had been securely barred, dii the conde
scending presence of Mr. Augustas Frazee
fade from the room, and she threw herself
across her bed as she cried:
‘Oh Hiram; come back and deliver me
from this man.’
Bnt Hiram heard not these words, bat
washnrrying‘alonghi3 homeward path, with
a lighter step than he had ever measured
before in all of his lift; whispering at every
step, ‘joy, joy,’ and every pebble in the
path, every leaf by its way, and eveiy bird
in its bash,'reechoed the whisper, ‘joy, joy.’
That night it was Emma’s to toss uneas
ily npon her pillow and to utter uneasy
mornings between her tronbled dreams,
while Hiram’s sleep was all musical with
chimes from the glory land.
The next day, the Sabbath, the last of
Hiram’s at-home was spent with the Mug-
gletons. Hiram and viola drove to chnrch
in the morning. They had jnst alighted,
when the pheaton of Mrs. Enstace drove
np. Mrs. Enstace, Emma, and Mr. Agnz-
tos Frazee were seated in it Hiram’s quick
partial eye discovered a clond of weariness
and pain resting npon the face, of EmmrJ
as with an averted head she shrank from
the touch of M. Angnstns Frazee’s hand as
he offered to assist her from her scat.
Mr. Angnstns Frazee looked grandly
consequential as he walked np the aisle
with the ladies, and entered the Eustace
pew; and well might he have looked grand
ly consequential, for the privilege was a
rare one, and all eyes were turned in envi-
oo3 admiration npon him and his ladies.
The more unpretending Mugglcton pew
was just opposite, and as Emma’s eye rest
ed npon UFo kneeling form of Viola, she __
would have given worlds to have '
her side. * ____