Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 97 — page 11: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

—— ——<-- _ — out of it. ‘“Can’t we go a little faster, Grutus? Can’t we hurry more?’ was all she said from that time forward until they came in sight of the squire’s. Once there, she leaped from her horse, her face still as white as a“ aeet. “She do lub dat young ma ’sorbingly, no mistake,” mused Brutus, ‘£1 ° “hope he'll do wot’s right. Ef he does, itl 1. good news for him, I kin teli nim. But, be shan’t know wot I know “ili i see wor stuif he’s made of—that’s so /” and the negro hastened after Miss Bella, | As she l-aped from her horse, the door flew open and Mrs. Claiborne had her in her arms, laughing, crying, and squeezing her; and then the squire came flying out, as if twenty years younger, and the servants, little and big, gath- ered about; but, im the midst of all the joyous confusion, exclamations, questions, the girl ew paler and more quiet. Until one fact was inown, she could not respond to these hearty welcomes, ‘*She’s skeered and tired to death—that’s it!’’ exclaimed the cook. ‘‘ Let’s take herin, missus, and make some coffee, and nuss her up.” But Brutus knew what was struggling at her heart, and asked her question for her. ‘‘How’s Massa King, dis mornin’, missus? We’s berry anxious "bout him.” Mrs. Claiborne’s bright countenance grew a shade more grave, ‘* Wal, the doctor’s seen him and got the ball out, and thinks he’ll get along; but, he’s quite bad today. I think the mel has made him more feverish, but I ho ell get along better ow, Come in, child, and show your- self to him; that will be the best medicine in the world for him.” Trembling, the girl followed into the best bedroom, where, on the couch, his eyes glitter- ing with fever, and his face egy changed and e, lay Caleb. He had heard the noise in the hall: and was looking with unutterable eager- ness at the door. When he saw who entered it, a cry of joy escaped his lips, and he held out one weak hand. For a moment Bella gazed at him, striving to master herself; but, the self- control of the polished world was not hers, and after an instant’s struggle, she darted forward, dropped on her knees beside the bed, and burst into tears. ‘ There, there, child, you’re just done over,” said the matron, with womanly tact. ‘‘ Come, and lie down, in ay room ;”’ and she led the girl away, to compose herself in solitude, while Bru- tus expatiated, to his heart’s content, on the in- cidents of her rescue, as he had them from Old Hickory. For afew days Mrs. Claiborne had her hands full. Bella was so exhausted by exposure and mental distress, that, vigorous as was her cor- stitution, she was obliged to keep her bed “vr a day or two. Caleb, also, was serious): 1; his fever ran high, and his prostration pr ,ed to be extreme. But, the cool weather, lus previous good health, the lady’s excellent medicaments slowly pale, until every vestige of color faded at present, and, despite her associations, there tumult of his feelings. When they walked back and a drop or two of it would occasionally leak _ seemed to ‘member more’n yer eber did afore?’ and nursing, brought him_ ony of real danger in | afew days. To better all things, and inake his convalescence one long season of happiness, Bella had quite recovered from ber temporary illness, and had been established in his room as deputy-nurse. Caleb no longer regretted his wound; all that he desired was to get. well enough to take advan- tage of the Indian summer weather to return to the East. He could not endure the prospect of remaining the winter in Kentucky, or of allow- ing Bella to do so; for the Harpes, despite the romise of the ranger, had succeeded, as usual, making their escape, and the young man never felt, for a moment, that the eT of their search was safe. Old Hickory and his band, after three weeks of pursuit, abandoned the game for the present. But they established a sort of vigilance committee, which would ren- der it extremely dangerous for the brothers to venture into that vicinity. What the fate of the wounded one had been they could not dis- cover; though they conjectured, from the marks left about the place where he fell, that his brother had returned and carried him off, for they saw no traces of his having been buried thereabouts. Caleb long had been aware that he loved the nameless and uneducated orphan; but, his pride had struggled against his love. Her danger, and his own illness, changed all this. He de- cided upon the course which both passion and honor called upon him to pursue—to betroth himself, with Mrs. Claiborne’s approval; to ask her to carry out her plan of making one of the traveling party back to the East; and to assist him there in placing his affianced in some suita- le The Outlaw Brothers. 11 see ee ee ee —™ - —— ee ee —— ee ble school, to remain at least a year before their | yerself, honey. I wanted yer recolleckshun to marriage should be consummated, The educa- | come back by degrees. Besides,” he added, with tion of girls in those days was not so varied as_ asly look at Caleb, ‘‘I wanted to see wedder dis young gentleman liked Miss Pella first rate for herself. I says to myself, * Hold on, Brutus, was about Bella, as we have said, the air and and see if he’s willin’ to take her as she is; for, manner of a lady. Her quick wit, with small aid, would soon teach her those things in which | if he was, den he’d be de bery one to desarve to she was deficient, while, as for natural beauty | l’arn dat he was a-marrying of de greatest heir- and grace, she would be a queen anywhere. | ess In Ole Virginny.” So it happened one lovely day, abouta month | ‘For the Lord’s sake,” exclaimed Mrs. Clai- after the accident, that Caleb, standing with borne, fairly trembling, ‘don’t keep us in sus Bella by the gate, looking at the sunset, wasin- | pense any longer—tell your story, and tell it as spired to say something to her which called upa | short as possible.” crowd of blushes, and sent the glance of those | Brutus pulled his wool, rolled his eyes around, wild, shy eyes wandering everywhere but upon | and began: his face. It was the first time he had been out; ‘ Yer reckollek, Massa Claiborne, yer buy’d of his room, and the delight of being again in ' me of de heir of de Moultrie estate, in Ole Vir- the open air had broken down the barriers of : ginny, as you was comin’ out to settle, bout doubt and reserve, and let out all the rush and | seven year ago. Wal, don’t yer reckollek what I often tol’ you, *bout dese times, what had hap- pened to our family, sah? Den we was one of e fust families, and de Moultries had but one ‘It’s all right, now. Reckon I see dem roses | chile, a daughter, and de fadder and mudder on Miss Bella’s cheeks, and Massa King as proud | were both murdered one night, and de chile as a peacock! It’shi h time ole Brutusshouldn’t | either stole or killed? Nobo y ever found de distress hisself no longer, keepin’ a secret, which | chile, or who killed de parents.” has most bu’st him open ebery day for five ‘*Why, yes, I recall it all now,” broke in the months.” uire; “Dut I declar’ L never thought of it The approval of the squire and his wife was | when [heard her story.” not withheld upon the arrangements of the ‘*Word was sent to the relatives in Norf Car’- young couple. Brutus was summoned, and bad | lina, and de next heir-at-law, he come up and listened quietly to all that was said to him; but | took possession; and all our hearts was mos’ when the orders for preparation for the journey | broke, fer we lubbed de massa and missus, and were finished, he asked: de dear little chile. De new massa, he sell off ‘* But where is J gwine to ride, Massa Clai- | some of us, and 1 was among ’em who was sol’ borne? Shall I sot on de carr’age and drive, or | —and I come out here, and nebber could hear shail I take black Nance, and ride along fur a | no more ’bout de ole plantation, An’ | allers guard, yer know?” grieved about it, night an’ day. And when “Why, you ain’t going. Who said any thing | Massa King began to tell me ‘bout dis chile, and about your going?” cried the squire. wot she said, and how old she was, and how ‘*Of course I must go ’long wid my own mis- | long she’d been stole, I guessed who it was, at sus,” said the negro, doggedly. “Sorry Ican’t | once. Dat was what made me act so dat day. b’long to you any more, square, for ye’re a kind | When I see’d her, den’ I know’d sure, for she’s massa, but, I’s Miss Bella’s nigga, now.” de pictur’ of her mudder; and she’s a Moultrie, ‘Ho! ho! ho!” roared the squire; “has Miss | sartain, sir—oue de fust families Virginny, Mas- Bella been a-buying you, without my consent? | sa King—and I’m gwine along fer a witness, fer No, Mister King, no such tricks! I gave athou- | she’s worth t’ree hundred thousand dollars if she sand dollars for Brutus, and I wouldn’t take | is a cent—dat’s so!—an’ dem relatives got to step fifteen hundred. Can’t spare him /” out dat plantation, So you see, Massa Clai- ‘* ve said nothing to Brutus,” answered Caleb, | borne, I b’longs to Miss Bella, ’spite dat t?ousand in surprise. | dollars; but I guess missus is honest, and will ‘* Nobody hain’t said nothing tome,” continued | defund de money.” the negro, intensely enjoying the sensation he The air of importance with which Brutus was creating. ‘‘ ve known all along, eber since | made his concluding suggestion was so ludicrous de day Miss Bella sot her foot in dis yere house, 'asto cause a laugh from his listeners, excited dat I b’longed to her, and nobody else, shuah!” ' and amazed as they were, For weeks, Brutus had been full of hints and ‘*Tt’s allers necessary fur to hab a name to git exclamations, which had more than once excit- | married wid,” continued Brutus, undisturbed ed the curiosity of his hearers. As he had said | by the merriment; ‘‘so I introduces Miss Bella to himself, ‘‘he was bu’stin’ with his secret,” | Moultrie to Massa King ”—with a flourish, The _ betrothed girl turned upon her lover a glorious glance of joy, love, and exultation mingled, It certainly was delightful to learn that her name was an honored one, her birth as good as his, her fortune more than equal. Since he had taken her in her worst circumstances, how proud was she to be able to return his rich gifts! That was a happy and busy family that night, for they sat up until almost morning, talking the matter over, and carefully eliciting all the proof which both Bella and Brutus could bring to establish her identity. The proof was per- fectly satisfactory to those who heard it; and it was now decided that her claims should be put forward at once tothe property so justly hers. Caleb was to take the whole party at once to Virginia, to establish Bella’s rights; and when this was in a fair way of being accomplished, she was to find herself a home in some good school, until she felt prepared to assume the du- ties of her new and dxalted station. tothe house, the observing Brutus began to roll his eyes and chuckle. out. ‘* Miss Bella,” he said, turning to her, ‘‘do you ‘member dat time w’en I asked yer ’bout yer name—if yer could ’call de name of Moultrie?— and how I ast yer ’bout de plantation, and yer ‘* Yes, Brutus, it’s all grown quite plain to me lately. Il remember my old home so well that I should know it, should I see it again.” * Dat’s de talk. Vl ’lighten yer understand- in’! It’s de power of ’sociation, Miss Bella, It’s livin’ alongside o’ me has helped yer mem’ry.” **T don’t know what you are talking about,” she answered, staring at him in self-amazed per- plexity. _ “ Yer don’t purtend, Miss Bella, dat yer name isn’t Moultrie?” said the negro, stepping into the full light, and looking intently at her—“ and dat | yer don’ know yer father’s own coachman, Bru- | tus, dat carried yer to mammy Dinah dat day | yer tore yer pretty réd frock on de nail, and | We have only to add that this programme cried so hard ’bout it, and mammy sewed it | was carried out successfully. The travelers got nice, so it didn’t show? Yer don’t forget de day | out of Kentucky in safety; the heiress, within we found de hen’s nest togedder, and mammy | one year, was acknowledged mistress of the baked yer de poun’-cake? rs, Miss Bella, yer | Moultrie estates, and it was from the stately old knows Brutus too well to forget him !” family mansion that she stepped forth the morn- She gazed at him, like one upon whom a spell | ing she was made a bride What the object of the Harpes had been in was working, a light coming over her face, a new memory awakening in her eves. She stood sparing her, when they murdered her parents, a full minute after he had finished, while he and why they had brought her up as their own, looked at her appealingly; then she sprung for- | remained always a mystery. Whether they ward and threw herself into his great arms, like | hoped, through her, to ultimately gain posses- a little child, sobbing out: sion of the vast Moultrie estates, or were simply ‘“ Brutus! Brutus!” instigated by some caprice of their lawless na- _ “* Does yer know me, honey?’ he asked, strok- | ture, cannot be asserted. : ing her hair, and then setting her down on her |_ As for Old Hickory, he had many a perilous feet, and holding her off to watch her face. | hunt after the hated brothers, but their cunning “T know you well; | remember all.” | continued equal to their ferocity, and they es- ‘An’ yer understan’ why I ast so many fool- caped, unfortunately, the rifle of the ranger, to ish questions dis summer? I wasa-tryin’ of you, , per ish—history does not mention how. Their Miss Bella. Fur my own part, I was sartin who names are written in blood on the page of Ken- you was de fust time I heard of you, and see’d | tucky’s story. you, but I wanted to convince dese oders—and | THE END. CONNIE OOOLKS.(€O)