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WILD WORK.
A STUDY OF WESTERN LIFE.
Based
in the
on Startling Incidents which have Transpired
RED RIYER Region of Louisiana*since the War.
IRYAN.
CHAPTER IT.
Notwithstanding good Mrs. Holman’s con*
soling assurance to Lanier that Adelle would
soon oome home, the weeks went by and she
did not return. Instead, came a letter to her
parents, dutifully asking their consent to her
acceptance of a situation in the Malta Academy,
and suggesting so many reasons why the place
would be pleasant and advantageous for her, that
loosing intently forward, as though at some
vision of the to-be.
Sometimes, he had company. There were
two men especially whom he counted on to be
of use to him, one from his daring and persis
tence, the other from his shrewd judgment and
his financial sharpness. One was Morton Carls,
a former sugar planter in Cuba, now a rabid
office-seeker; the other was Devene, who had
early become a satellite of Witchell’s, and owed
they plainly saw her heart ™TnTe™ hT£at in
the desired consent was accorded in Squire Hoi- , “ totive of the pari8h in which they lived,
8ho ® ld _P_ r !?_! I had already been useful to his friend. The bill
appropriating thirty thoasand dollars for the
a school-room to the ease and liberty of her own
home, the society of her parents, and the prox
imity of a devoted lover.
It was almost as much to her own surprise as
to her father's, that Adelle bad been led into ac
cepting the situation. The little lady who had
filled it for two years, was now about to be pro
moted to the control of a widower’s household,
and good Dr. Wheatley—the School Principal—
wa6 at a loss how to supply her place. He was
deploring his dilemma one evening at Mrs.
Deal’s tea-table, when Adelle, who sat opposite,
looked up from her strawberries and cream, and
cleaning out of Lake Wisteneau had been got
through the Legislature by the new member.
The cleaning out that was done was a sham, but
the appropriation money which found its way
into Witchell's pocket was a solid reality.
These two satellites were sometimes to be seen
with Witchell in his room. Even with his
friends, he did not condescend to familiarity,
but, though he kept on the mask of reserve that
prevented over-intimacy,and confided his plans
to no one, he could be very genial and compan
ionable. Adelle had glimpses of the three sit-
half playfully proposed to take the vacated place | lonawe. Aaeuenaa glimpses huh inree su-
herself—a proposition which was quickly taken ting at the small table, across which the bottle
proposition . _ ,
up, and resulted in her receiving next day from
the academy trustees, a formal offer of Miss
Black’s situation and salary.
Adelle felt that in some respects the place
would be good for her. The regular work was
what she needed, and if she were hearing pars
ing lessons in the little academy under the oak
trees, she would not be listening to Lanier’s
half-whispered love speeches, or flushing un
comfortably under his fixed gaze while she tried
to sew.
She need never see him alone. When he
came to Maita, she could easily persuade good-
natured Birdie to make a third party in the
parlor and in the walks which she would do her
best to avoid. Placed under this restraint, the
hot-tempered young man would not be apt to
avail himself of Mr. Deal’s hearty invitation to
prolong his visits. Mr. Deal took quite a fancy
to him. Lanier had the reputation of being a
bitter and daring opponent of the new regime,
and the old fire-eater, notwithstanding his cor
dial, hospitable disposition, cherished an un
dying prejudice against everybody that had
worn the blue in the late conflict; and more par
ticularly against those, who, since the war, had
been quartered upon portions of the conquered
country, ostensibly to keep the peace, but in too
many instances, to oppress and extort. The
presence in his town of some of these ex-m'd-
Uaires, now holding civil offices by appointment
or through negro votes, was an eye sore to the
hearty old rebel. Especially was this so in the
case of Witchell, and the old gentleman would
never believe otherwise than that the Radical
Judge's choosing to board next door, was done
as a personal aggravation to him.
Witchell, having sold his landed property on
Lake Wisteteau, and bought a valuable planta
tion on the rich River region which he would
come in possession of at the end of the year,
was now busy maturing large plans for the
future. His first aim was to have himself made
a State Senator, representing three large and
impoitant parishes. This, in the existing con
dition of politics, where the people had little
or no voice in choosing their officials, could be
easily done. After this, foreseeing that the
party he belonged to, would not always have
such smooth sailing as now over the wills of the
people, and that its sway in the State was des
tined to be interrupted and weakened by dis-
sentions and discords among contending cliques,
he determined to make himself independent of
it, by acquiring popularity with the people,
forcing them to respect his qualities as a leader,
while he earned their good will in more per
sonal ways. He would farther strengthen him
self by gathering around him some strong and
daring spirits, whom he would bind to him by
ties of gratitude and interest. By this means,
he aimed to make himself the head of a fac
tion, wiser, wilier and more politic than any of
those which were now tacitly organizing through
the State, so that, when the time came for a
change in the chief State officers, he might be
strong enough to seize the supreme prize — the
chief Executor's chair, now filled by a Northern
adventurer, like himself — Waimcth, the
shrewd, crafty, daring and unscrupulous.
Money, always such a mighty lever to success,
Witchell knew was all important in attaining
his ambitious ends. He had already made
money, but he looked on this as merely the nu
cleus of the colossal fortune, he saw opportuni
ties to acquire in the future.
He had an eye to acquiring money, as well as
to gaining influence with the people, when he
determined on his change of location. The point
on Red River which he had fixed upon as his
home, was full of promise. Not only was it in
the midst of a rich cotton growing section—a
section too, where the negroes who worshipped
him were numerous and in many instances well-
to-do and even wealthy, but it was near the lit
tle riverside town of Cohatchie, now a mere
handful of houses, but destined to play an im
portant part in Witchell’s programme. He
meant Cohatohie to be the base of wide-reaching
operations. He had decided it should be the
county site of a new parish he would create.
The people in this section had long ago—even
in the ante-bellum times—eagerly desired a di
vision in the over-large parish of which they
occupied an extreme end. They had never
failed to instruct their representatives to obtain
this for them, and had hitherto been disappoint
ed so often, they despaired of ever obtaining
their right He wonld gain it for them, and earn
their gratitude and good will, while he laid the
foundation of a fortune for himself in the pros
perity that would attend the new county site.
He would take this under his special charge,
buying lots for a song, Belling them at high fig
ures to the people, who would gather in to the
young town, whose public buildings he prom
ised himself should be as elegant as the gratified
new parishioners would bear being taxed to
build.
Such schemes of self-aggrandizement floated
through the brain of the adventurer, gathering
the consistency and system of an organized
plan.
Adelle could see him sometimes, thus occu
pied with bis ambitious thoughts, from the win
dow of her room, which commanded a view of
his, across the paling and the narrow strips of
yard that intervened. His blinds were often
open for the sake of cool air, and she could see
him walking the floor with that firm, militarv
l stride, or seated at his reading table, hts head
) thrown back against the high chair, his eyes
and glasses were occasionally pushed about,
not pausing before Witchell however, for drink
ing was not one of his vices. He was temperate
almost to austerity in his appetites.
Adelle saw little of him, beyond these glimp
ses caught through half-open blinds. Occa
sionally, she had met him, bnt he volunteered
no sign of recognition, and she, confused by
consciousness of obligation to him, which she
had ungratefully received, felt her cheeks flame
and her eyes involuntarily avert themselves
when they met.
Only once had she spoken to him. She had
gone to evening chureh service, escorted by a
physician, who had been called off on a profes-; ° n the old negro s arm ir. entreaty
. ■ « • T _ in Vivo tvvinlrlnd finrrnra anr) lnnlrptl
She sent this note to her father, with a few
lines from herself, sayipg that the school was
suspended at the end of the week, because of
sickness, and they might look for her to come
home in a little while.
One afternoon, a few days afterwards, she was
sitting in the shaded gallery, watching the
clouds that piled themselves in the sky, and
noting the hot, hushed stillness of the hour,
when an old negro rods up to the gate, got off
his mule, and. coming up to the paling, said:
* Step here a minute, Miss Dell.’
She recognized Jake—an old negro that had
once belonged to her father, but since ‘freedom’
had oast his fortunes on the river, and .was stay
ing on Mr. Vincent’s place when she saw him
last spring. The adventure of the fiat, and her
rescue by Capt. Witchell, came vividly to mind
as she walked up to the paling and greeted the
old negro with her usual friendliness.
‘ Do you oome from the river?’ she asked.
‘ Yes, I do missy,bat I dassent let it be known.
Day halts me ebery where, an’ ax 'ain’t you
come from de yaller fever country ?’ and I swars
I aint been nigh de riber in a year. Bound to
do it, or git stopped, and I come on a arrant of , any”fever on board,
mussy, myself. I come to git a doctor for de i boat’
sick; dem our way is done give out.’
4 Did you get one ?’
'No, missy. I went to two, and when dey
heard what I wanted, <IiJ» jumped away from de
wind side o’ me, an’ Bay hi you don’t git outer
dis you raskil, I’ll sit de dogs on you.’ What’s
to be done ? Our dootor is jes worn out, wid
ridin’ and tendin’, and de fever’s on de in
crease.’
‘ That is dreadful! And you black people are
the only ones to nurse the sick?'
* Yes ; missy; but de black folks gittin’ scurt
deirselves now, sence Big Sam tuck de fever
un died, atter waitin’ on Capt. Levin; and now,
yon kin hardly git urn to nuss de sick or to
bury de dead.’
* God help the poor sufferers ! Why did they
not leave the river before it was so bad ? I am
glad my brother got away in time.’
4 When you done hear las’ from your brudder,
Miss Dell ?’ the old negro asked, eyeiDg her in a
peculiar way.
‘ Only four or five days ago, I had a letter from
him. He is camped on Lake Clear, enjoying
the hunting and fishing, only he says he can't
help being anxious about his fine crop on the
river, and wanting to run down and see about
it.’
‘ He did run down.’
* Is it possible he has been so imprudent ? I
hope he did not stay an hour, When did he go
back ?’
4 He ain’t gone back, missy.’
'What! is he there yet? My God! Uncle
Jake please do ride back as fast as you can and
tell him, for my sake, to voice away this mo
ment. Ride fast, Uncle Jake.’
She put her hand over the paling and laid it
He took it
of death and suffering, and pleased with the
chance to gossip and idle, and the opportunity
to steal; at one moment holding vociferous song
and prayer-meetings,and shedding tears over the
delirious patient; the next slipping out to rob
his hen-roost, his pig-pen, or his smoke-house.
Such is the contradictory nature of thiB people,
who, utterly inoapable of governing their own
Witchell thought a moment.
4 You cannot indeed go back to-night. It is
already nearly dark. But where can you stay ?
I think there is not a white woman left in this
part of the country. Both those houses yonder
are deserted and shut up; in that one there, a
young man lies dead since yesterday.’
He pointed, as he spoke, to the different plan-
impulses, or of pursuing any consistent course i tation houses that could be seen along the wind-
_ X" - _ _ J 1 1 __ 1_ 4. 1 3 .11 ' .f tkn M«AW f/VW m 1 1 AO aprnfifi that IavaI
of conduct, were yet, by a short-sighted policy,
or a revengeful code, promoted to ruling over a
superior race. Yet there were a few noble excep
tions to this rule of shallow inconsistency and
uncontrolled impulses on the part of the negro.
As Adelle and her gray-haired but active and
garrulous companion wound their way down to
the river, old Jake pointed to a fresh mound not
far from the sandy river bar, and said:
' Dere’s where de steamboat, Belle Bowling,
stop las’ Sunday night, and buried u young
’oman what died on board wid de fever. Dey
buried her ’bout midnight. Tony Watts seed
de lights, an’ corned down. He sed dey took
her out mighty easy, fer fear of waken de pas
sengers. Dey never does let ’em know dare’s
’fraid o’ der leavin’ de
sional errand before service was over. In a
whisper, he excused himself to her, and know
ing that Miss Deal and her father were at
church, she felt no uneasiness about the way in
which she should get home.
When the benediction had been pronounced,
and the people were streaming out of different
doors, she stood waiting for her friends to come
out with the rest But she waited in vain.
Not knowing she was alone, they had gone out
at another door. The church was empty before
she became convinced her friends were gone,
and hurrying out, she found everybody walking
away at some little distance. She stood an
noyed and perplexed, turning her head from
right to left, in a fluttered way. Mr. Deal’s
house was at some distance from the church,
and „ne social code ot Maita made it a great
breach of propriety for a woman to walk alone
at night
‘Can I assist you?’ asked a voice. A man’s
figure stepped out from the shadow of the church
wall and stood before her. Too much confused
to know in the dim light whether it was an ac
quaintance or a stranger, she answered that she
was lost from her party, and disliked to go
home alone. He seemed to hesitate after hear
ing her voice, but the next instant, he proffered
his escort, adding, ‘ Perhaps we can overtake
your friends before they reach home.’
There seemed nothing for her to do but to
accept his attendance, and putting her hand on
his arm, she walked on by his side. They
walked so rapidly, as soon to overtake the hind
most groups, and the glare of a street lamp just
before her, showed Adelle the familiar figures
of a gentleman and lady, who lived near her
boarding house,
in his wrinkled fingers and looked at her pity
ingly-
‘De Lord help you, Miss Dell,’ he said, sadly,
‘ he can’t git away, chile. It hurts me to tell
you sich bad news, but he's got de fever;
tuck it yesterday, bad.’
She turned pale in a second, and grasped the
paling with her trembling hands.
‘ Don’t faint, missy; don’t take it to heart so.
He’s in de Lord’s hands.’
•No,’ she said hastily, ‘I won’t faint, Jake,
for I must go to my brother, now—this moment,
I will go with you.’
' Better not, Miss Dell. You’d jest take de
fever yourself, and break yer pa’s heart. I
thought you might use your 'suasion to git a
doctor for him up hore Me ar.d
brudder May will ’tend Jf^^oes’we kin, but
we’se boff ole and it takes mighty strong hands
to wait on de yeller fever. You could’nt do
much good, Miss Dell; and ’taint ’spected of you
to go. When young George Glaston was tuck,
dey sent up for his ma and his sister what was
gone to dere hill place, and der’lations wouldn’t
let ’em come, no how. Miss Annette’s sweet
heart he come down hisself, poor fellow, and
nuss’d George like a brudder, and now he’s
down and no hope for him. Dey sent George’s
body up to be buried in de famly graveyard, on
de hills, and a party o’ men rode outer de woods
jes’ ’tother side de riber swamp and drawed up
in de road fifty yards ahead o’ de wagon dat had
de corpse in it, and hollowed to de black folks
dat was gwine ’long wid it, to stop right dare
and dig a hole an’ bury de body in it, or else
git shot like dogs; kase dey shouldn’t take a
dey
you
yaller fever corpse troo de country, and
shouldn’t go troo it deyselves. Dat’ll show
‘ It is Mr. Medlock. I need not trouble you ! how dreadful folks tink de yaller fever is.’
any longer, sir. Thanks for your kindness.’
This is what she was going to say, as half with
drawing her hand, she turned to look in her
escort’s face.
But that face drove the words out of her mind,
and the blood into her cheeks. It was Capt.
Witchell. Instead of saying what she had in
tended, she stammered some incoherent words,
as she withdrew her hand from his arm. His
lip twitched; he smiled in a bitter way, as he
had done that time she shrank from him in the
boat.
‘You did not know it was I; neither did I
know who you were when I offered to accom
pany you. I think you have no longer any
need of my escort; you have come up with your
friends. Good evening !’
He turned off before she could speak. Her
first impulse was to call him back. What a lack
of womanly feeling—of common courtesy he
muBt attribute to her! But then, what right
had he to expect civility from her—he, her
father’s and her country’s enemy—the oppressor
of her people?
Yet she was troubled; her voice was agitated
and tearful, when, joining her acquaintances,
she explained that she had been left in church
by her attendant and had failed to get with her
friends. , ,
‘ One dislikes to be rude and ungrateful, even
to a carpet-bagger,’ she wrote to her friend Zoe,
that night. ‘ Does it not seem that Yate tries
to throw Capt. Witchell forever in my path?
Did I write you that I had found out it was he
who kept papa s old hound Nero from being kill
ed ? He had followed papa up here when he
came to see me, and had got left. He was dis
consolate because of it, and howled about the
streets so that the people thought he was mad
and was going to kill him, when Capt. Witchell
interfered and took him with him, fed him and
kept him, until he could send him home by a
negro. The negro would not tell who it was had
caied for the dog, but I have since found out
Really, there must be some good in the man.
The poor people around Lake Wisteneau and
about here, say he is very kind to them—gives
them corn and other provisions—‘robbing with
one hand to give with the other,’ papa says, like
Robin Hood ai>d Rinaldo Rinaldini, only our
free-booter is a licensed one, and, with his in
flexible figure and sandy locks (they are almost
red, Zoe) he looks more like a Highland Chief
rtan Italian brigand. And he has the
Scotch love of lucre my dear.’
This letter, Zoe got from the Cohatohie post-
office, as she and her brother’s family were on
their way to the hills—refugees from the yellow
fever tbs* had now broken out upon the river.
Adelle «a* exceedingly anxious about her
brother, nntil she had a note from him, telling
her ho was camped on Clear Lake with his
gun and dogs and a half dozen young fellows,and
might have a fine time, if it did not hurt him so
to think of bis orop being left to the devasta
tion of stock and negroes, just as the cotton
was bursting open and the corn was getting ripe
enough to gather.
Dreadful!’ echoed the girl, absently. 4 1
must go to him at once. I won’t tell them here
where I am going, for fear of being hindered.
I will let them suppose I have been sent for to
go home. They will lend me a horse. While it
is being saddled, Jake, you go to Dr. Pritchard,
tell him I sent you, and beg him to go to my
brother. Come back immediately. Don’t tell
anyone where I am going.’
She was ready to mount the waiting horse
when Jake rode back, having failed in his mis
sion. Dr. Pritchard said he was sorry, but he
dared not venture on the river, where the dis
ease was so virulent. He bad a family to whom
his life was important Besides, he would lose
all his practice here if it was known he had vis
ited a yellow fever patient.
They set out by themselves, riding leisurely
until out of sight of the town, for Adelle was
fearful of being delayed by arguments against
the step she was taking if her friends found it
out. Once away from the town, they increased
their speed to a gallop. As they rode, Adelle
uttering her thoughts aloud, said: 4 1 trust they
will not hear of this misfortune at home. Fath
er and mother would come, and it would prob
ably be their death. Uncle Jake, did you charge
Dr. Pritchard not to tell anyone that Derrick
had the fever?’ ,
4 Yes, missy, I told him you was afeard his
ma would hear it, and she wi«va sickly like.’
4 And have you told no one else ?’
4 Not a soul—yes, I’m tellin’ a lie—I told Capt.
Witchell. I met him jes’ dis side o’town, goin’
towards de riber. He ’treoted me to de doc
tor.’
It was a long, weary ride. It seemed to Dell
that they would never reach their journey’s end
—never leave the pines and oaks of the ‘hills’
behind. It was near sunset when they entered
the river swamp. Adelle felt the difference in
the atmosphere the moment that, after crossing
a small bayou, she rode under the great ash and
gum and oypress trees, hung with huge, festoon
ing vines, with a carpet of grass spread greenly
underneath.
The shadow and stillness of death seemed to
brood under those great trees and knotted vines.
Not a bird sang—the rustle of a snake among
the grass—the stealthy flap of an owl’s wing, as
the bird waked from his drowse on a limb over
head, flew away, skimming his level flight
among the huge tree-trunks—these were the only
sounds that broke on the gloomy silence.
It was strangely still, too, out in the broad
fields and cleared pasture lap da they soon came
upon. These were green with riotous growth,
but they bore a look of neglect and desertion.
The ootton bolls were bursting open, here and
there, and thickly in patches, with none to
pick them; the fodderhuugbrown and ungath
ered upon the corn-stalks. Labor had become
demoralized in the presence of death. The ne
groes did nothing but wander from one planta
tion to another—in some instances nursing the
sick with attentive kindness, but usually hang
ing about the plague-smitten houses, fascinated,
after the manner of their kind, with the horror
Gloomy and deserted, looked the flat, green
oountry lying within the great wall of woods
that stood darkly against the horizon—the low,
murky river flowing sluggishly through its
steep banks, the poisonous fog beginning to
rise up from it, and from the many half-dried
up sloughs, and low places, filled with rank
grass, blossoming reeds and croaking frogs.
In answer to Jake’s prolonged 4 Eh-o-o-o,’ a
great, thick-lipped, stupid-looking negro,
brought over a flat As he stepped out of it
upon the sand, Adelle asked:
4 How is my brother—how is Mr. Holman ?’
‘I hearn a while ago he was d-e-a-d,’ drawled
the negro, pulling at the chain of the flat in a
leisurely way.
‘Dead !’
‘Well, no’m. ’Twant him; I dunno how he
is. ’Twar Major Kopley, down de river. He’s
had to gib up de game at las’, Jake.’
‘ He has ?’ returned Jake, and explained that
when ‘ fever corned, de Major shut hisself and
his man Dank up stairs in de ole house, wid a
bar! o’ whisky, and swore he’d stay and tough
it out. Yallow Jack ’d never come his way.
Whisky’d kill him dead’n a cotton wood stump
if he did. Well, Yallow Jack struck him las’
Monday, war’nt it Bill? and de fus’ ting he
done, when de lirum tuck him, was to jump
up outer de bed and stave in the whisky bar’l.
Den he paddled and splosh about in de licker,
over de floor, and holler out, he’s in de lake o’
fire and brimstone.’
‘ He’s dere now, sure enuff,’ Bill said, shaking
his stupid head wisely. ‘ Died a cussin’, and a
hollerin’ out de debil had ’im !’
This cheerful conversation, added to her sus
pense and distress, set every nerve in Adelle’s
body to quivering so that she could hardly keep
her seat in the saddle, when they had remount
ed on the other side of the river and were riding
the quarter of mile that lay between the cross
ing and the house where her brother lived. The
road, like most others upon this Bide of the
river, ran near the bank, with the stream on one
side and the fields (unfenced in front) upon the
other. But now, both field and river were hid
by the ranks of tall weeds that grew on either
side, crowding close to the narrow road, in which
nothing but the constant trampling of hors< s
rode by negroes, had kept them down.
At last, they were at the gate of the old weather
beaten, moss-grown house, in which Derrick had
set up his bachelor’s hall. An enormous pecan
tree shaded it at one end. fennel and coffee weeds
grow'ap to tne doorstep, the gate swung open
on its broken hinges, and hogs and little negroes
were feasting on the fallen peaches in the grass
of the orchard, while a couple of negro women
were despoiling the garden of the few cabbages
that dared to show their heads among the weeds.
With that cowardly dread that assails us, when
suspense is about to be exchanged for certainty,
Adelle shrank from asking the negroes how her
brother was. She would rather solve the dread
ful doubt with her own eyes.
She sprang from her horse so hurriedly that
her toot received a wrench that made her fall to
her knees with keen, sudden pain. In a moment,
she had mastered it, and rising to her feet, she
turned to enter the gate. But a man’s tall form
barred the way, and Capt Witchell’s voice said
calmly:
‘Miss Holman, you must not go in.’
She looked at him in haughty surprise.
‘Do not dare forbid me,’ she said. ‘My
brother is ill; I must be with him. Let me pass,
sir.’
‘ Not till you have listened to a word of rea
son. Your brother has the fever, but it is not
necessarily fatal. With good nursing, he may
recover.’
*1 have come to be his nurse.’
‘Yon have no idea of the sort of nursing a
person with yellow fever requires. Calmness
and physical strength are needed. You are
not fitted for the task. Then you are more than
likely to take the fever yourself. The fatigue
and anxiety you are suffering this moment, pre
dispose you to take it at once. Then we would
have two patients instead of one. If your broth
er should recognize you, anxiety on your account
would make him worse. The least thing tells
against the patient in this disease.’
‘ Capt. Witchell, I came here to see my brother,
to be with him while he is ill; do you think I
can stand here and know he is suffering yonder,
and yet keep away from him, through consider
ations for my own safety ?’
4 Your parents deserve also to be considered.
What would they suffer, knowing that you both
are in danger ? But if you could do your brother
any good ’
4 You have said that good nursing may Bave
him.’
4 It may, and he shall have it I will myself
be his nurse.’
4 You ? You will do what his sister must not ?
You will expose yourself to danger when she
draws back—you, a stranger, an ’
4 Enemy, you would say, but I have no en
mity for him, nor any of these people. In the
end it will be proved. But let that pass. I shall
not risk much by attending on your brother.
I have been several times in the midst of yellow
fever; I have experience in nursing it; it re
quires constant watchfulness to see that the
patient does not uncover himself in his delir
ious tossings. The bed-oovering must be held
down by force. Much depends upon this.’
4 Is my brother delirious ? Ob, how he must
suffer! Capt. Witchell, stand aside, I will see
my brother if I die for it.’
4 No, Miss Holman, I will not let you see him.
The doors of that house are locked, the keys are
in my pocket. I will not permit you to enter.’
His determined, calm look made her falter.
That look on a man’s face—the look of knowing
what he is about, and being resolved to hold to
it—usually masters a woman, and turns opposi
tion into trust. But she tried to stand firm
against it
• What do you mean, sir ? What right have
you to oppose me?’
4 The right of common sense, Miss Holman.
I have told you I shall nurse your brother, and
that he shall want for nothing. I have sent a
messenger to N. for a physician. I know him,
and he will come for me. The negroes will
help nurse your brother. They are frightened,
but they will obey me*’
* But I cannot go back and leave my brother
this way, not knowing what hiB fate may be;
indeed, I cannot. Let me at least stay near
here; and promise that you will let,me know if
he is worse.’
ings of the river for miles across that level
country.
4 What can I do ?’
•You must not stay out any longer. It is dan
gerous, now that the sun nas set. There are
nothing here but the negro cabins, but there is
one of these you might stay in to-night—at
least It is only occupied by an old negro wo
man. She is eccentric, and the negroes shun
her and call her a witch; so that they will not
intrude upon you. One of her hobb’es is to be
always washing and scrubbing, and you will
find everything about her perfectly clean. She
scrubs her cabin inside and out every little
while; I have seen her. You will be bttter there
than anywhere I can think of no#. Let me
take you there at once. It is advisable that you
get in out of the evening ail; and I must go
back to your brother.’*
She hesitated and stood as if bewildered. It
was all so strange. This country so gloomy and
waste—looking in spite of its wealth of green;
that old weather-beaten house, lying among the
weeds like a stranded wreck; death all around;
death in the air one breathes, and her only
brother lying yonder delirious of the fatal fever,
and nursed by a man he hated, and this same
man getting the mastery over her will, making
her look up to him, and trust to him to plan
for her safety.
It all seemed so strange. She had put her
hand to her brow in confused thought. As it
fell again to her side Capt. Witchell took it
quietly, drew it within his arm, and, without
a word guided her steps away from the house
towards the row of cabins that faced the river
farther up. One of these was isolated from the
others, and stood back under a tall cotton wood
tree. Before the door of this cabin several fires
were blazing and crackling, sending up bright
sparks through the dusk, and beside them, dis
tinct in the glare, stood the tall, withered figure
of an old negro woman, who was heaping on the
fires the brush and cypress knees she had
brought up from the swamp. She wore a big-
flowered cotton dress, faded and fantastically
bepatched, but clean; a strip of red shawl was
tied about her head, under which shone her
small, keen face and sharp little eyes. Captain
Witchell pointed to the figure standing among
the smoke and glare.
‘ If you should ask me, with Banquo, who is
this—so withered and so wild in her attire? I
would make answer—it is Aunt Margaret—the
reputed conjuress—who is herself desperately
afraid of being ‘conjured.’ She is a queer
character, a little crazed at times, but perfectly
harmless; and there is usually a method in her
madness. Those fires, for instance, she has
kindled them every evening since the fever
made its appearance. I can’t tell where she got
the idea, but it is a good one. The heat kills
the floating germs of the disease, which are es
pecially active and plentiful in the still air of
night and twilight.’
She took no notice of their approach, but,
passing from one little fire-heap to another,
pushed up the crackling brush and muttered her
satisfaction as the tongues of flame leaped up
and the sparks flew out. Captain Witchell
touched her on the shoulder, upon which she
turned and oourtesied in a stately way. But on
bis explaining Adelle’s situation, and his wish
that she should find shelter for the night in her
house, she shook her head, declaring—‘ Can’t
let nobody stay in my house. I might be blind,
or stiff-dead in de mormn’; too many tryin’ to
put bad eye on ole Margaret!’
Fear of being ‘cunjured’ haunted this old
creature continually, and it was not until after
much persuasion from Captain Witchell, aided
by the silver-piece he pressed in her hand—and
supplemented at last by a stern declaration of
authority, that she was induced to promise
Adelle a shelter in her house, and kindness and
attention at her hands.
4 She will keep her word faithfully once she
has given it,’Capt.Witchell said. ‘I have occa
sion to know she is staunch and honest, in spite
of her crotchets. She will make you as comforta
ble as she can. And now go in; I must get
back to my patient. I will send you word to
night how be is.’
He was gone, and she had said no word in
acknowledgement of his kindness. Why was
he doing this ? What was his motive for the
generous deed he was performing? Was it
4 policy ?’ Was this merely a step towards
gaining popularity with that better class of cit
izens who were so opposed to him ? Of course
nothing really disinterested and noble could be
the moving principle of such a man, and yet —
4 What time did Capt. Witchell come down
here ?’ she asked old Margaret.
4 1 see him crossin’ de riber ’bout three hours
by sun. Heard he had cum down to see Majer
Kopley on business and found out he’s dead,and
dat dis one up here’—pointing to the house
where Derrick lay—‘was like to die, and his
nusses scared and runned away—ole Jake fust
one, do’ he brags so on hisself, and make out
he’s sich a brave Christian. Jake’s a sateful old
hypocrick, but he’s not much worse’n de bal
ance. Bound he’ll not go nigh dat sick young
man, less Witchell makes him. He can make
’em all do anything he wants to.’
4 How ?’ Adelle asked, seeing that the old ne
gro’s face put on a look of mystery.
4 Ah ! dat’s it. He’s got de power.’ She point
ed down as if to signify that the ‘power’ came
from below.
Adelle obeyed Capt. Witchell’s injunction to
go in doors. Seated in a rude poplar chair,
that had been scoured to immaculate whiteness,
she watched old Margaret, flitting witch-like,
around her pots and ovens, lifting a ‘spider’ lid
to show the corn loaves turning to a rich brown,
and peering into an oven from which escaped a
savory steam. A negro came to the cabin door,
set down a wooden tray full of things, and with
the words, ‘Cap’n Witchell sent ’em,’ vanished.
•Might ’er had manners to come in and set it
on the table,’ grumbled the old woman, inspect
ing the contents of the various vessels that filled
the tray. ‘Flour; where de lard to make it up
wid, I wonder? Oh, here it is. Sugar; mighty
scase of it; spec dat triflin’ nigger been stuffin’
hisself wid it on de way. Coffee; drefful little,
shrivly grains. What dat in de tin cup?
A-h-h-h r
The sniff she took of the contents of the cup,
had the effect of suddenly putting her in a good
humor, and, after sweetening the ‘dram’ to her
taste and drinking it eagerly down, she was
ready to fly around with an alacrity that sur
prised Adelle. The odor of parching coffee
Boon diffused itself through the room, a little
square table was drawn out and spread with a
clean, coarse cloth, a gayly flowered plate, enp
and saucer, were deposited upon it, and then,
the covered oven disclosed its savory mystery—
a rabbit baked crisp, bnt juicy,—the brown
dodgers were turned out, and these, with a
saucer of golden honey, the steaming coffee and
a small, rich, red-hearted watermelon, sliced
down and Set up on end in the middle of the
table, constituted the supper to which hunt
Margaret invited her guest to sit down. She
herself took a seat by the hearth, pretending to
poke the Are, while she covertly watched Adelle
with satisfaction, as she drank the coffee and
ate a slice of the bread and honey.
When the supper was over, Adelle drew
(Continued on 6th page.)