Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 124 — page 14: what you’re looking at

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

a smile, “ you really startled me; you came so all of a sudden—so like a ghost; where have you kept yourself all this while?—how have you been?” “Has the pale man led the brown-eyed maiden to his wigwam?”’ said the Indian, with- out heeding her friendly welcome, and glancing anxiously around the chamber. ‘Has Asso- waum come too late?” ‘* What is the matter with you, man?’ cried the good dame, now truly terrified at the savaze’s gleaming eyes; ‘‘ what do you want of Mr. Rawson, whom you always call the pale man?” “T want nothing of him,” said the Indian, in a whisper; “not yet, but the Regulators want him.” ‘* What has he to do with the Regulators? he does not belong to the band—be does not even approve of their proceedings.” ‘tT believe it,” said the savage, smiling; but this smile convulsed his gloomy features so fearfully, that the matron really began to fear that his wife’s death had robbed him of his reason, and she looked around after the negro boy, who was engaged in saddling her horse before the door. Assowaum read, perhaps, what was passing in her mind, for he drew his hand across his brow, smoothed back his streaming hair, and said softly: * Assowaum is not sick; he came here to save your daughter—is it too late?’ “My daughter! what is the matter with her? what do you mean? speak out—what is it? what has happened to my child?” ‘Ts Marion already the pale man’s wife?’ “*No—but what bas Mr. Rawson—” “The Regulators are upon his track—he was Heathcote’s murderer.” “Good heavens!” exclaimed the matron, in terror, and she staggered to her chair, while the Indian stood calm and grave upon the threshold. “That is a slander!” she said, at last, when she had somewhat recovered from her agita- tion—‘‘a base and contemptible slander! Who is the wretch that accuses him?’ ** Assowaum |!” said the savage, in a whisper; “ Assowaum!” he repeated, after a short and breathJess pause. ‘The pale min may deny it;—I fear too that the blood of Alapaha stains his bands!” “rightful! horrible!” groaned forth the un- happy dame; “and my child—but no, it is impossible—it is an error—a fearful, dreadful error! it must and will be soon cleared up; he will prove himself pure and innocent before any tribunal” ““Onesheshin!” said the Indian. ‘But where are your people? where is the old man? where the maiden? where the pale man him- self?” ~ “He must soon be here—Marion and ‘Roberts have ridden on before to his house; the marriage is to be performed this afternoon at the justice’s. It is impossible—the devout and God-fearing man can not be a criminal! He may have killed the Regulator in a fit of anger—the man was always sneering at aud insulting bim.” “And whom did he accuse of the deed?” asked the Indian, gravely. ‘Fhe pale man had two tongues in his mouth; with one he spoke with his God, and with the other he rebuked the innocent. Was that right, when he knew that the blood was upon his own hand?’ “JT can not believe it! I can not compre- hend it?’ moaned the good dame, wringing her hands in anguish. “Does Mrs. Roberts remember the day after Alapaha’s murder?” said Assowaum, in a re- tone, ashe took from his: girdle the tomahawk which he had left with his wife on that fatal night, and laid it upon the table, “With this weapon,” he continued, almost in a whisper, yet still with a distinet, though hollow and sepulchral voice—‘! with this wea- pon the Flower of the Prairies defended herself against the cowardly murderer, and Rawson's arm was lame the next day. This button,” he added, taking it from his ball-pouch, ‘‘ Asso- waum forced from Alapaha’s fingers, which held it fast clutched in thg death-struggle. It mustybe Rawson’s—Assowaum has spoken with people who say it is one of Rawson’s buttons.” “ All this is but uncertain conjecture,” cried the matron, rising, and gazing steadfastly in the eve of ‘the red son‘of the forest; ‘it is no proof, man—it is impossible, I say—Rawson is innocent!” = Assowaum, the Avenger. “ Onesheshin! then ask him, for there he comes,” replied Assowaum, calmly. “The pale man will be still paler when Mrs. Roberts tells him that he is a murderer.” Before the matron was able to reply, the savage had thrust the tomahawk into his belt, and with noiseless step retired to a small re- cess formed by the bed, which stood in one corner of the apartment, and which was hung with a white musquito-net. The next moment the preacher’s horse stopped, covered with sweat, at the fence. His rider leaped from the- saddle, and at once stepped upon the threshold. Notwithstanding the good dame’s pallor and agitation, he was so much occupied with his own danger, that he did not observe her emo- tion, and, with a hoarse and almost inaudib'e voice, he inquired after his bride and the men; nay, an imprecation hovered upon his lips, as Mrs. Roberts, trembling indeed, but now more collected, answered that they had ridden on before, and expected him and her to follow them soon. His babitual reserve, however, re- strained every rude word; and he was about to turn, in order to ride after them, aud if posst- ble to reach his own house in time to throw himself into the boat, and to attempt to escape by water, as his flight seemed already cut off by land—when Mrs. Roberts called bim back, and begged him to approach her, He was sensible, indeed, that all further dis- simulation was but a useless waste of time, and that by delaying he might even lose the favor- able moment for escape; but still, standing in the presence of the women whom ho had so fearfully deceived, his better feelings gained the ascendency, and he resolved at le:ast to part from her in peace. With this intention, he hastily returned to the table upon which she was leaning, and now, for the first time, re- marked her changed and pallid countenance. Before he could question her concerning her agitation, however, the matron said, speaking in a very grave but still a friendly tone: “ Mr, Rawson, will you promise me to an- swer, frankly and honestly, a question that I wish to put to you?” *«] will,” replied the preacher, half-surprised half-embarrassed; “‘but I must beg you to be quick, for I—reully I must be gone—you know I have so much to occupy—” He had not the courage to raise bis eyes to hers; he was disturbed by an emotion which he could not explain, and he felt as if he were stauding in the presence of his judge. ‘My. Rawson,” said the old dame, speaking in a low but distinct tone, “ strange things have been told me about you this morning.” ‘‘ About me? by whom?’ asked the preacher, in alarm, ‘‘ Who bas been here?” “Still they are only conjectures,” continued Mrs. Roberts, calmly; ‘“‘aud I fervently hope they may prove nothing more: but it is neces- sary that you should know what is said of you, that you may defend. yourself,” ** | do not understand—these singular words —what has happened?” stammered Rawson, growing more and more embarrassed, and he already cast a side-glance toward the door, as if he were resolved to cut short the discourse, and escape all further questioning by flight. He had been playing unconsciously with a flower, that Jay upon the table against which he was leaning, and he now took up the button which the Indian had left. upon it. , “Do not touch that button, sir! for Heaven’s sake, do not touch it!” cried the matron. ‘‘What is the matter, Mrs. Roberts?’ in- quired Rawson, again collecting himself, and resolute to end the convérsation. ‘ You seem strangely agitated. Why vot touch this but- ton? It is one of mine, which I have pro- bably—” ‘““Of yours!” cried the matron, in affright, supporting herself by the back of her chair— ‘“« yours?” “What ails you?” “That button Assowaum found in the hand of his murdered wife!” cried the dame, who, thus far, feeble and anxious, now ruse erect, and gazed steadfastly in his face; ‘‘and you— you were the murderer!” — The preacher’s hand glided with a rapid and convulsive movement beneath his vest where be doubtless wore concealed weapons; but, as he cast. a hurried glance about the chamber, his. eye met that of the Indian, who, with his rifle raised to his cheek held Rawson beneath its deadly aim and exclaimed, in a voice of thunder— “ A step, and the pale man dies!” Rawson gave himself up tor lost. Mrs. Roberts, however, remarking the threatening attitude of the savage, and thinking that the latter was about to take vengeance on the spot, for the innocent blood of bis wife, rushed toward bim, struck up the deadly weapon, and cried in terror: “Oh, not here! not here, before my eyes!” Rawson saw this movement, and he knew that this was perhaps his last chance for flight. Before the Indian, whose advance was impeded by Mrs. Roberts, could anticipate him, he darted from the door with the agility of a panther, leaped upon his horse, and the next moment disappeared behind the thicket which bordered each side of the narrow road, In furious haste the red warrior rushed after him; but, before he could again take aim at the flying form of his enemy, the thick-leaved bushes had concealed him from his view, and from the avenging ball. Assowaum now hastened to Mrs. Roberts’s horse, which S .m was holding near the fence, threw off the side- saddle, tore the bridle from the hand of the dismaytd negro, leaped upon the beast’s bare back, and, striking its sides furiously with his unarmed heel, followed upon the track of his victim. CHAPTER IX ‘You see I was right—there’s the bouse!” said Roberts, as the little cavalcade advanred upon the small clearing, and now paused before the high fence which surrounded the building that was so soon to contain Marion’s entire world. ‘‘Tndeed!” cried Harper, in astonishment, “but the marked trees would have led us in a very different direction; I thought he must live higaer up, on the hilly land. We are now aluuost like neighbors, for my house is not so very far from here, down the stream.” “Weil, Marion, how do you like the place?’ asked old Roberts, turning to his daughter, ‘eh? a little still and gloomy? Well, that’s because the river is so near, and then there’s the thick sycamores, the dark willows, and the cottouwood-trees, that stand around; for fur- ther up they are scarcer, and Steele Jately assured me—” ‘*It is very still and lonely here,” whispered Marion, grasping Etlen’s hand, as if she feared to distu.b the silence by the sound of ber own voice; “I cannot imagine what makes the place so dreary, so—fearful!” ‘Because there’s no cattle about,” said Barker; ** that’s very natural. Where there’s no suund of the cow-belis, and no bens and pigs runniog around the yard—where there’s not even a couple of dogs to leap upon you when you come home, and make such a noise that you can’t hear yourself speak, or a flock ef geese that begin to cackle just es you are calling to some one in the house—why, to my mind, such a place is bardly fit to lve in,” ‘“*But what would be the use of Mr. Rawson’s buying cattle,” asked Harper, “when in a week, perhaps, he will move again?’ “Tut, tut!’ replied Borker, “If I am to live on n place only three days, ] must bave a few chickens or pigs around me, to pick up the scattered corn, which otherwise is lost and wasted. See how the yard looks!—the grain lies strewed on the ground almost in heaps. Ah, if my old woman wes to see that!” “Yes, but thipgs will change now,” said Roberts, laughing; “ bis wife will arrange all that. But the horses are well cared for here, that’s a fact; there are troughs enough.” “ What is the matter, lien?” asked Marion, somewhat disturbed, as she beard her friend utter a low, balf-repressed exclamation; ‘‘ what is the matter?” “‘ Nothing,” replied the young girl, in em- barrassment, while she cast a rapid yet timid side glance at the house; ‘‘nuthing—it was a delusion: but it seemed to me as it | saw an eye looking out between the two upper crevices —up there.” “Where? up there?’ cried Barker, laughing. “A guest would hardly take up bis qua: ters so high; there are better places in the house to lodge a visitor in. The door is unlocked.” ‘“ Aad what a door it is!” exclaimed Harper, who now opened it, and entered the house— “remarkably strong, as if wonderfu. treasures were kept here. Well, all looks pretty well,” hg then continued, glancing around him, ‘* that is to say, for a bachelor; for the women would find fault with a good many things, 1 suppose. But that can’t be helped. Matt rs don’t ook much better with us down the river.. When Alapaha was alive, indeed,” he added, breath- at EORNIELIOOKS (EO)