ame. TWO GUARDS. By N. C. IRON, AUTHOR OF ‘‘ AGNES FALKLAND,” ‘GIDEON GODBOLD,” ETC. LONDON: GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS, THE BROADWAY, LUDGATE. THH TWO GUARDS. CH ASP TER is THE PROLOGUE. Tr was a delightful evening in summer. The sun was setting, and the soft, refreshing air swept over the boundless prairie, swaying the rich verdure like a sea. Only Illinois could produce such a scene. Four travelers were passing along the plain. The chief personage of the group was a beautiful girl, whose face expressed the gratitude in her heart toward her companions. Through the swiftness of one, the ferocity of another, and the indomitable bravery of a third, she had been rescued from a terrible death. Those com- panions were the horse on which she rode, a negro, and a hound of great proportions. The lady, attired in a manner suited to the warmth of the evening, was seated upon the noble animal whose speed had not failed her in the hour of jeopardy. The dog, a powerful and majestic creature, followed at the heels of the negro, keeping his nostrils, which seemed to expand with the approach of the watchful hour of night, close to the earth, that the penetration of his eye might be aided by the keen susceptibility of his nose. The African walked beside his _ charge. Although one of Africa’s sons, he had few of the typical negro characteristics. He was tall and erect in stature, his head was finely formed, his forehead indicated intelligence, and his eyes, jet black, fairly scintillated with the fire of the soul within. He was dark in hue, but his entire appearance savored more of the Arab than of the Zambese, which he was reputed to be. He rested one hand upon the flowing mane of the horse, as he listened to the words addressed to him by his fair companion : “Why do you not consent to reside with us, Cesar? Why will you not make the Cedars your home? We love 10 THE TWO GUARDS. you, Cxesar—my father, my mother, and myself—and we want you ever near us.” Cxsar did not respond. He moved forward, his eyes cast downward. “Cesar, you saved my life. My parents say their debt is equal to my own, and so is their gratitude. Be one of our household. Abanéon that poor cottage so far away, and be to us a friend and a protector.” “T will tink, Miss Agatha, I will t'ink,” replied the negro. “This time for reflection is but an evasion,” replied the cady ; “you reject our hospitality, you refuse our seeming favors, yet you give no excuse for refusing to acquiesce in our wishes.” A tear moistened the maiden’s eye as she spoke. A drop of moisture fell upon the hand of the negro as this last sentence was pronounced. With a quick, instinctive feeling, he looked toward her eye. The night was now too dark to detect what he had thought to see; but still he knew there rested on his hand a fallen tear, which fell from a cloud upon the brow of Agatha. Though momentarily proud that he could excite such tenderness, he was shocked that he had caused such sorrow, and exclaimed : “TIl come—I’ll come, Miss Agatha. I'll leave de cabin— Tl leaye de garden, ’cause now I knows yer heart is sot on it. An’ yet I loves dat house. It was de first place whar I found rest and peace;” and now the tears came to his fine eyes. “Thank you, good Cesar,” exclaimed Agatha; “and now that I have extorted this promise from you, I will acknowledge that there is even more of selfishness in my desire than you conjecture. My father suspects that there is hostile feeling toward us among the Indians. Those chiefs who used to visit us, and exchange their goods for those they more required, and who received from me little presents for their squaws with so much pleasure, now never appear. They avoid our house, and all connection with us. Even Fleet- foot, who used so frequently to run beside me in my rides, and contend in speed with my gallant Matchless, now shuns — .this frolic pastime, and, whenever seen, disappoints both me and Matchless by retreating to the concealment of wild — recesses, whither we can not follow. Then there is the noble | 7 r? AGATHA, 11 chief whom we call Sachem. He who wore so gracefully the scarf of silk with which I presented him, as if he were my champion knight. He who was so often to be seen advancing through the spreading cedars toward my window, bearing in his powerful arms some tribute of the chase, or other tokens of his thoughtfulness and care, and summoning me, in his deep voice, as the ‘Forest Rose, to come forth and receive the homage of his gift. Ah, Cesar, my heart is sadly grieved at the indifference and neglect which I now experience from these wild hunters. Their kind and primitive attentions compensated me for many of the pleasures which I once enjoyed in a more peopled region.” The African became interested. He caught every word, as if it were a revelation for his guidance. “My father thinks they are preparing to be revenged on us for some offense of which we are unconscious, and that you will share our fate. This causes me to entreat you to join us at the Cedars, where you will not only assist in our defense, but be in greater safety yourself, Do you think that the Indians intend us injury?” “No, Miss Agatha,” replied Cesar, decidedly. “Nor do I, Cesar,” said Agatha. “There is no such guile in the hearts of Sachem and Fleetfoot, although Jasper says that they are of a tribe of horrid villains; that the racing of Fleetfoot was a mere lure to entice me to some obscure place, and then seize me; and that the affected civilities of Sachem were of the same character, and that these would have been successful, had he not been ever on the watch to defeat their wiles.” “Jasper bad man—deceitful dog /” said Cesar, with energy. “ Cesar,” said Agatha, in a voice rather of reproach than indignation, “do you forget that Jasper is my cousin, who has*quitted a far more congenial country, that he might con- tribute to our happiness, our comfort, and our security ?” “Jasper is de dark shadow of dis region—I knows it!” exclaimed Czxsar, with a wildness which frightened the maid. She heard his words with astonishment. He was scrupu- lous never to reassert a sentiment distasteful to her, and she was well aware that, without some vital reason, he would not 13 THE TWO GUARDS. thus have repeated what hé must have known was painful for her to hear. Both moved on in silence. Cesar construed the long silence of Agatha into anger, and became mentally troubled. At length, s gentle neigh from the lady’s courser announced his near approach to the welcome stable. “ Ah, Cesar,” said Agatha, “ Matchless reminds us that we are near the Cedars. You will come with me to the house, and confirm by your voice and presence the joyful tidings that you will dwell with us.” “No, no, Miss Agatha, not dis night,” replied the black. “Why not? Why should you refuse?” asked Agatha, “My father will scarcely credit the successful pleadings of his daughter, when he hears that you would not move beyond’ the gate to assure him of the sincerity of your promise.” “ Anoder night, Miss Agatha,” said Cesar. They had now reached the gate. “ Farewell,” she said, determined not to press the matter further, “ farewell, Caesar; come to us to-morrow.” Cesar seemed uneasy. He had something more to say than the mere parting word, and hesitated how to introduce it. Agatha perceived his perplexity, and kindly remarked : “ Are you inclined to proceed with me, that you hesitate to say farewell ?” “No, Miss Agatha; but are you offended wid me?” asked Ceesar. “Tn what?’ demanded Agatha. “In speaking badly of Jasper,” said Cesar. “There is no room in my heart for anger against you, good Cesar,” replied Agatha, with impressive sweetness. “I only thought you misjudged my cousin Jasper; but, in some things, he may be equally unjust to you, though he esteems you as the preserver of his cousin Agatha. These feelings will sub- side as you are more together at the Cedars, where you will soon learn to do each other honor.” At this moment, a slight agitation was perceptible in the wood through which the road to the house was cut. In an instant, the negro protected his charge, by the interposition of his lofty form. The brave hound, whose suspicious ears had not been slumbering, was by the negro’s side, looking up f, £, AN ALARM. 13 into his face for some word or signal by which he might leap to the scene of danger, but Cesar was silent. He looked ateadfastly toward the point whence the alarm proceeded. All, however, was in repose, But a noise had been distizetly heard. It was not followed by any receding sound, so there could have been no escape. Something must still be in con- cealment in the woods. No animal of prey in those parts had the cunning to lie so tranquilly in the face of danger, and the inference of the negro was that it was a man. He thought of Sachem and Fleetfoot, and of the aspersions of the crafty Jasper; but he cast these suspicions from his mind as unworthy either of himself or his forest friends, and was about to enter the wood with his impatient hound, to solve the mystery, when Agatha, divining the next step of the fear- less African, whispered in his ear: “Tf you value my wishes, good Cesar, you will not plunge into the wood. I know it to be covered with brush and undergrowth, and might prove fatal to you and your bold hound on this dark night. Let us move onward. ‘There can be no more danger in motion than in standing as we do. But, Cesar,” she continued, perceiving that he was still inclined to the hazardous assault, “ wherever you lead there I will follow. You shall be my guide, and whether you seek the danger of the forest, or the safety of my father’s house, you shall find a close attendant.” The negro was astonished. He turned and gazed for an instant upon her, and seeing a resolute will through the lines of that face, he spoke to the dog and horse, and all proceeded hastily toward the house. There was still nearly half a mile to travel, and the negro was determined that his fair charge - should not pass over this distance unguarded. When they had reached the extremity of the drive, and were near the house, he suddenly paused, and exclaimed : “Safe now, Miss Agatha.” “Now that you are on our very threshold, Cesar,” replied Agatha, “you will not refuse our hospitality. You will come in.” “Scuse me dis night, Miss Agatha,” said Cesar, implor- ingly, as if he feared another such command as kept him from the wood, 14 THE TWO GUARDS. Agatha was deeply affected at the earnestness with which he seemed to entreat this indulgence, and replied : “On one condition, Cesar, and that easy of performance. Promise that on your return you will not examine the locality where we heard the noise, nor permit your dog to do so.” “T promise,” said the negro, after a slight hesitation, but showing evident signs of disappointment. “Then good-night, Cesar,’ gayly added the maid, as Matchless hurried his pace. “I rely upon your pledge.” In another minute, Agatha was welcomed home. Caesar, walking down the road so softly as to be unheard even by himself, soon slipped into the wood. Casting himself beneath the shelter of a clump of alders, he, with his hound, laid so noiselessly, that they seemed but to add to the deep slumber of the forest. Some time transpired, but no sound was heard. There seemed to be nothing of life around. At length, a dis- tinct tramp disturbed the profound stillness. It approached from the gate. As it gradually neared the place where the negro was hidden, it could be distinguished as the foot- steps of a man. It was Jasper Linwood, with a gun upon his arm. He paused, muttering audibly, as he reached the alders which concealed the negro and his dog: “The black scoundrel, to speak badly of me! I'd have shot the rascal on the spot, only I’m keeping him for a better fate. His black blood shall yet boil in his veins, from the stripes on his worthless carcass. I would pawn my life for the consideration which she bestows upon this negro, and the other dark skins of the forest. She, so shrewd and ready in understanding in all other things, seems blind to my passion and claims. She does not or will not comprehend that I love her. She cherishes me as her cousin, and all my attentions and my ardent efforts to please her are received as coming from arelative. This I have long endured. I have displayed patience where another might have yielded to resentment; but patience can not always last. I have laid my plans, and ihe campaign against negro, hound and Indians will soon epen. All these woodland rivals will be among the things of the past. Already the Indians regard Agatha with sus- picion, for I have taught them to believe that she is plotting for their ruin. They now avoid her presence, and though 7 {7 AGATHA’S COUSIN. 18 the ‘Forest Rose’ still pines for her aboriginal friends, they come not to the Cedars. But this black is another creature. I could not besot his dull imagination. But, ha, ha!” and he chuckled quite audibly, “P’ve applied for more distant aid, and other physicians will soon take his case in hand.” He moved off, evidently pleased at his thoughts. When he had receded some distance from the alders where he had relieved his mind by his confession, the negro advanced stealthily upon the road. His arm was around the neck of his brave hound, as if to restrain the ardor of his vengeance. His dark brows were knit, the veins of his forehead were furrowed with his anger, his mouth was compressed, and his eyes were lighted with a savage fire. As the fierce eye of the dog met that of the negro, the latter pointed with his finger toward the receding Jasper, and then clutched his own throat, as if to tutor his sagacious pupil in his mission. This lesson given, he still restrained the struggling hound; and, as the : better feelings of his nature conquered—even at this deadly moment—he quieted his canine agent, and exclaimed: “No, no, he’s her cousin. I'll not take his life. Leo, dat villain must go dis time.” The dog was obedient. The negro stood in the center of the road. The ferocious aspect of his visage gradually molli- fied into an expression of anguish, and, after painful medita- tion, he cast himself upon the ground in-despondency. “Why war dis color given to my skin?” he exclaimed ; “and, being black, why have I de feelings of de white? I is a man, yet I’s treated as a brute. Even dat scoundrel Jasper call me de broder of de wolf. ’Tis he is de brute !” The negro uttered a deep groan as he took this retrospect of his lowly state. He rose from the earth, and, with his dog ‘pressing closely to his feet, slowly moved toward his lonely hut, his figure no less erect because of the great burden of his sorrow. He thought that if in white humanity there were not men like beasts of prey, how should he have been stolen from his native soil, and made the slave and vassal of the thief. Jasper had reached his uncle’s house, and entered the room where the family had assembled. There sat his blooming cousin, but, to his astonishment, Caesar was not present. He 16 THE TWO GUARDS. soon learned from the father how the negro and his daughter had been alarmed, and that the latter had returned without entering the house. Jasper availed himself of this information to impeach the Indians, but Agatha rejected the suspicion with disdain, which caused the early retirement of the traitor. After he reached his room, he paced to and fro in great agitation. “That negro has my secret. He quitted Agatha for no other purpose than to discover whence that alarm proceeded. He has seen me, and what is probable, may have heard me utter words which must disclose the secrets of my heart. If so, he is now aware of my designs, and I only know too well that he has cunning enough to use them for his purpose. But,” he continued, while his face assumed a most demoniac aspect, “the villain shall not use this stolen revelation. He shall die! And if the ravenous wolves are not too dainty to eat black game, they may feast on his carcass before to- morrow night,” CLAP TER. Tels CAESAR. Casar was of illustrious descent, barbarously so ; still, his birth was illustrious. He was the son of an African prince, He had been seized and borne into slavery, despite his lineage. Stolen from the sunny shores of Africa, and disposed of to a New Orleans planter, he was, upon the basis of this felony, - claimed as a “lawful” serf. In the vessel that conveyed him from his native shores were many of his father’s subjects. They, like himself, had been decoyed into the subtle net of the cruel fowler. Chained and fettered, these miserable crea- tures recognized their ruler’s son. In their reverence they trowded-more closely together in their stifling prison that the royal scion might have room to live. Their brutal keepers scorned this imperial treatment, and in their derision conferred upon the royal recipient the name of Cesar. This was the first trouble of his youth, the incipient calamity of his life, and om ef ~-- : THE “MIDDLE PASSAGE.”, 12 it was one of terror. He saw hundreds of his abject friends perish in their chains, and their skeleton bodies hurled from these shambles to the ocean. When a tempest arose, and the decks were battened down for the safety of the ship—and all in that fearful hold was dark as the skins of those that filled it, the plunging of the vessel was terrible to those in that foul prison. The sick were thrown to the extent of their chains, cut and mangled by their fetters at every plunge, while the cries of the wounded, the dying, and the appalled, overcoming the roar from the surging of the sea, created such a scene of agony and horror as none could think possible to proceed from the ravings of human suffering on earth. When the storm abated and the ribald crew had leisure to examine their battered cargo, they opened the hatches and descended to the hold. There were seen chained bodies whose souls had escaped to other worlds; others so severely wounded as to make them no longer a commodity for market; and others, who, despite the bitterness of their anguish, still struggled against death. These were cast into the sea without hesita- tion or compunction. The despondency of the youthful Cesar, who escaped uninjured, caused him to envy those who were treated with such dreadful lenity. In time the vessel reached its destined port.* Cesar was led from that fetid den into the pure air. It was a grateful change, but the shore on which he was to land was that of the enemies of his race. He shuddered as he perceived that they were of the same color as his sea oppressors; but, he concealed his sorrow, and the cheer which he had spoken to his brethren on the voyage he repeated now; it seemed to lighten the depression of their hearts. It was soon made known that Cesar was a prince, which * From the years 1815 to 1825, many cargoes of negroes were run into Southern bayous, direct from Alrica. Large numbers of negroes were also first landed in Cuba, or on some of the smaller and more unfrequented West India Islands, and then run into South Carolina, Florida and Geor- gia, as opportunity offered. As late as 1840, many slaves were to be found, particularly in the rice region of the Gulf States, who could not speak or understand English—they were so recently ‘‘imported.”” In the case of the ship Wanderer, it will be remembered that, in 1858, she ran into Georgia a cargo of negroes direct from Africa. ‘The facts were all clearly roven, the captain, crew and owners known—yet Mr. Buchanan’s oflicials frought none of the scoundrels to justice. Almost the entire South approved the importation, and intimations were given that negroes were us arriving every year. 18 THE TWO GUARDS. was confirmed by his commanding appearance; and an ambi- tious planter, who wished to be served at imperial hands, purchased the royal boy; Cesar became his slave. With many of his fellow-prisoners he was conveyed to the planta- tion of his owner, there to commence a life of labor to which he was unused. But, he wisely resolved to submit readily to circumstances which were then immutable, to be an exam- ple of obedience to those of his friends who shared his ignoe miny. He endeavored to bend his stubborn dignity to the menial duties of his bondage, affecting almost a gayety in his labor, believing, in the bright hope of youth, that when he had thus dexterously lulled suspicion, he could escape te his own native land. How little he knew of American slavery! The plantation was extensive and the slaves were numerous Cesar was deeply grieved when he beheld the cruel destiny of so many of his race. He was not, however, summoned to the labors of the field, but was appointed a sort of master of the horse—to which was added the supervision of the kennel. In this character of dog-keeper, he was often in attendance upon his owner and his owner’s son, in their numerous hunting- expeditions. He rode with them from plantation to planta- tion as a body servant, to all the neighboring mansions, and to distant cities. He stored the knowledge thus obtained in his designing mind. Although he performed his duties with scrupulous diligence, and engaged in any extra toil assigned him with apparent cheerfulness, still, he sighed for the free- dom and position from which he had been torn. The assi- duity of Cesar made no impression upon his insensible mas ters. They assumed that that was the consideration for which they had paid, and, had the menial service not been freely rendered they would have proceeded to extort it by the lash. Three or four years passed in this bondage had unfolded to Cesar the great difficulty of escape, though it had not driven the hope of this achievement from his heart, when there came a great pressure for field hands. Every domes- tic slave that could be spared was transferred from the house to the overseer. Still, that functionary had not obtained the “hand” he most courted, and he importuned the planter for yet more aid. 3y THE OVERSEER. 19 “ ‘Why, Flesher,” replied the planter, “ who can I give you? _ I have only three or four old crones to attend me in the house and they are deaf, half blind, and stupid.” “Why not the prince?” asked Flesher, sarcastically. “ What, Cesar ?” “ Ay, sir,” replied Flesher; “he’s young and able, and idles half his day with the dogs and horses.” “But, how will my dogs and horses be cared for ?” droned out the planter. ; “Let that be my care, sir,” responded Flesher. “Well, well, take him, Flesher,” said the planter. “TI trust all to your able management; but, remember, if my horses chafe or fret at the absence of their groom, or I hear the im- patient howling of my dogs, Cesar shall be replaced imme- diately, for I will not have the tranquillity of those fine animals disturbed for a bag or two of cotton.” Flesher quitted the presence of his master. A smile of triumph was upon his face. He hastened to give the neces- sary orders to impress Ceesar for field labor. The poor slave listened to his doom with affected calmness, but not without considerable inward suffering. He now wanted that fortitude with which he had inspired his brother bondmen in their despair, and for a time he thought to attempt that escape which he had so long contemplated ; but, he was not sure that the crafty Flesher might not have prepared for this con- tingency, and that even then his creatures might not be watch- ing the avenues of flight. There was no resource for the poor slave. Submission or the lash were at his choice. He was transferred to the power of one who would soon compel the free usage of the latter. Thus, the next morning, poor Ceesar had fallen even from his low estate, and was seen marching to the field, with his numerous brother serfs, to gather cotton. From the respectable house-servant, he, the prince, had become the beast of the field. Each picker had an allotted task. No indulgence was granted to Cesar because he was a novice. He worked, how- eyer, manfully, to discharge this burden, but he would not have conveyed the weight of cotton required to the scale had he not been assisted by his devoted friends. At night the glaves returned their cotton, which was duly weighed. To 20 THE TWO GUARDS. the astonishment of Flesher, that delivered by Casar was not a found to be deficient. An expression of disappointment passed over the visage of the overseer. Cesar thus had - escaped the punishment which the driver hoped to inflict. A suspicion, however, arose in his mind that Cesar had had assistance, and when, the next night, the fruits of his industry were weighed and found full, Flesher demanded to know if the prince had picked the cotton himself. Ceesar felt that « he was detected, although he thought that there could not b6 i an Offense when neither he nor those who aided him brought : a deficiency to the scale. Still, he would not reply, but stood unmoved and silent before his relentless judge. “ Answer me,” exclaimed Flesher ; “ did you pick all this cotton ?” Cesar did not reply. But this silence only enraged the overseer, especially when he beheld the bold front of the dauntless youth. “ Answer,” said he, in a voice of thunder, at which all but Cesar shuddered, “ did you gather all this cotton ?” “No,” said Cesar, disdaining an untruth. “So TPve detected you, you idle scoundrel. I did not ex- pect that one who had lounged in the stables so many years i would be so active in the field. But now, rascal, who assisted you? ‘Tell me this, that I may know, during this busy time, who are so very skillful and so increase their tasks. I'll turn j this discovery to good advantage.” But Cesar was obdurate. No threats of punishment, no i words of violence could extort from him the names of those : to whom his gratitude was due, although the kind delinquents stood shuddering beside, in dread of their coming fate. At length the inflamed Flesher dismissed the prince from his presence. “Go to the stables, sirrah,” he vociferated ; “look well to the horses and the dogs, and when you have done, come here and receive the wages of your toil. Perhaps ten you'll mix up with your cries for mercy the names of your confed- erates.” He drew up the coat-sleeve of the right arm as if in prepa- ration for his hideous work. This was his wont—all knew by that familiar action what was to follow—and all prepared to eS aa FLEEING FROM THE LAS. a1 see their revered fellow lacerated with the lash. It was the last degradation in his cup of sorrow. Cesar went to the stable. He caressed his favorite steeds and wept over his beloved dogs. Time had endeared him to these animals, and he was about to say farewell. He had resolved to fly. He was not fully prepared for such a step; but, the merciless threat of the overseer determined him to attempt an escape. He knew that, in a few minutes, he should be sought. ‘Time was, therefore, precious. Still he tarried with his favorite dogs, lavishing upon them all his love and receiving their caresses. Thus he did not withdraw from the stables until success in his attempt seemed almost impossible. But, there are periods in our lives when the faculties of our minds seem for a time suspended as if unequal to the occasion. Then a mysterious Providence takes up the action. So it was in the case of Cesar, who, apparently waiting with his hounds those previous moments afforded him to escape the dreaded scourge, was unconsciously pursuing the only method _to achieve deliverance and prevent recapture. After reluctantly quitting the stable and providing himself with food, Cesar moved stealthily from hedge to hedge and field to field until he reached a small copse. Here he paused, and, concealed by the trees, looked back toward the building. Most of the slaves had retired to their cabins; but a sullen- ness seemed to pervade the scene as if something painful were anticipated. He did not, however, remain long in contem- plation. Issuing from the house whither he had been sam- moned, was seen the impatient Flesher. He approached the stables, and Cesar was well aware that the investigation there would soon disclose his flight. Dashing forward with all the speed of his young and pliant limbs, after much toil he reached the poor slave’s refuge and citadel—the swamp THE TWO GUARDS. CH AP Ta a eds THE CHASE. FiEsHer called upon Cesar at the stable door in vain. He enforced his cries with threats and imprecations; but, he elic- ited no reply, though he felt assured that his words were not unheard. Such resistance to his autocratic power was unex- ampled among these subservient people. He therefore resolved that it should not be forgotten in the approaching settlement. Then he procured assistance and lights, and a search was made; but Ceesar was not there. The search was then extended to other places; the negroes were assembled and questioned: nothing was extracted; and, at a late hour of the night, when every building Lad been minutely exam- ined, the overseer came to the distasteful conviction that Cx- sar had escaped, and that further proceedings must await the morning. That night, however, Flesher visited the planter. Nothing aroused him from his habitual indolence so quickly as the elopement of a slaye. When he had listened to the recital of his overseer—who did not adhere very scrupulously to the truth—he rose from his idler’s couch, walked to and fro the room in anger, aud then exclaimed : “We'll have him, Flesher; we'll hunt him to-morrow. He’s in the swamp and we'll quickly have him out. I did not think it of the prince. He seemed willing to do his duty. His diligence and attention were observed by my visitors. You have not been harsh with him, Flesher—I mean, of course unnecessarily so.” “Certainly not, sir,” responded the driver. ‘I ordered him to the field, as we agreed, and as necessity demanded ; but when there, he spent the day in idleness and defiance ; he commanded the other hands to fill his bags, and afforded such an example of insubordination as to endanger the conduct of the negroes of the plantation. For this I threatened him, and ordered him to the stable, but without any intention, of course, to use the lash.” a + ee < PREPARATIONS FOR PURSUIT. 23 “You behaved with great forbearance, Flesher,” said the planter. ‘“ Obedience must be maintained among our slaves. If it be necessary to resort to the whipping-post we must use it upon the man, woman or child who deserves it. We will soon catch this royal fugitive and make an example of him. Summon my friends: at least, inform them that a valuable slave has taken to the swamp, and invite them to join us in the search. Let the horses be ready early. I feel ten years younger than an hour ago. Good-night, Flesher.” At an early hour on the following morning, horses saddled for the chase and dogs in couples were assembled before the mansion of the planter, and there awaited the arrival of the invited guests. The planter, however, attired in a riding-suit, soon appeared upon the piazza. He viewed the preparations with dissatisfaction. “What have you here, Flesher?” he exclaimed. ‘“ Put up that prancing roan and bring me out bay Rolla, for he is the only courser of my stud that really enjoys a nigger-hunt ; but ke will not run without the music of milk-white Leo, the king of his majestic race, who would detect a runaway were he amphibious, and buried ten feet beneath the waters of the swamp. To Rolla and Leo must be assigned the honors of the day. It is a royal chase, and the imperial Cesar shall be followed by horse and hound well worthy of his dignity. Ha, Rolla, my brave steed,” he continued, as the horse was brought forward, “I learn from your eye that you are up to this day’s sport. I hear the ringing voice of Leo, too. He is already on the scent and impatient to be gone, for he knows that, in this day’s chase, he is to be allowed to taste the game.” At this moment two gentlemen approached the house. They were well mounted, rode side by side; their smiles betokened that they came on some pleasing errand. “Welcome, friends, welcome,” exclaimed the planter, as he shook the new-comers by the hand. “I knew you would not permit me to ride alone. Descend and take refreshments.” The visitors passed within the house. During all this period, Flesher was in agitation. He was alarmed at the manner in which the willful planter had disar- ranged his plans. He had selected several hounds, and now all werr teiected but the favorite Leo, and the recapture of 24 THE TWO GUARDS. the slave was to depend on this one dog. He sought Beau- mont Tourville, the planter’s son. “T fear,” he said, “that this day’s work will prove a dis- appointment.” “Tndeed,” replied Beaumont; “do you think Cesar will escape this army of detectives? If he does, he deserves his liberty. The prince will then merit a realm of his own.” “What!” cried Flesher, “lose the best slave upon the plantation 2?” “T thought him so,” said Beaumont, coolly, “ but my father tells me that you have reported him otherwise.” “T informed your father that his conduct was mutinous and deserving of a severe example,” said Flesher. “And I dare say,” continued Beaumont, “that you also hinted to the pvor boy what the nature of that ‘example’ would be, which drove him in terror to the swamp.” “TY only cautioned him,” observed Flesher. “If I did not enforce industry and discipline among these slaves, where would be our cotton or our safety ?” “T never interfere in plantation matters,” said Beaumont, relighting his cigar, “ but I know that, for three years, when out of your jurisdiction, Cesar discharged his duties in a manner which did not need that gentle ‘ caution’ which you thought necessary to inflict in only three days’ rule. I fear that the poor slave is less a runaway from his owner than from his owner’s delegate—that he has taken to the swamp not'so much for a love of freedom as from the dread of the whipping-post.” “T did not come to discuss these matters, Mr. Beaumont,” said Flesher. ‘“ The object is to recover this young scoundrel. For this purpose I procured dogs from Mr. Roy’s plantation, but your father has rejected them, and ordered white Leo for the hunt.” “ Well,” replied Beaumont, “and can that noble animal be equaled on any plantation in the South ?” “But he’s kn¢-yn to the game,” said the crafty Flesher, *and might befrind the quarry. Would you hint this to your father ?” “ Shrewdly suggested,” exclaimed Beaumont, sarcastically. “You want me to impeach the fidelity of the matchless Leo NEGRO-HUNTING. 35 to my worthy sire—a charge which you are too prudent to prefer. I decline the mission. Ifyou have any doubts as to the qualifications of the hound, it is your duty, not mine, to intimate them, for, should a disappointment ensue, as you predict, the onus of so great a failure will be attributable to you.” Beaumont quitted the overseer, and joined the party whom he saw issuing from the house, confident that Flesher would not venture to provoke the storm that would arise should an attempt be made to substitute other dogs for Leo. The over- seer was annoyed and disconcerted, both at the refusal and the significant allusions of the son. Still, if he would not address the impetuous father on the tender subject of the dog, he was fruitful in resource, and, determining to provide against disaster, he hastened away to put a more likely stratagem in force. The gentlemen were soon mounted. Horses and dog, with many attendant slaves, moved toward the swamp. Flesher was some way behind; but, still further in the rear, was a negro, stealing from bush to bush, as if to avoid observation. He was guiding something, which was so closely folded in dark cloth as to be undistinguishable. The elder Tourville was in the highest glee. No one would have recognized in the horseman who rode that gallant bay, beside his good friend and neighbor Bagot, the inert planter of the preceding day. “ Gentlemen,” he said, “as we ride to cover I may as well relate that Cesar, the runaway, is said to bea prince. I imported him from the barbarous shores of Africa. His sable father was prince of Wara, and, ages ago, the family are said to have descended to the plain beneath the highest peaks of the Mountains of the Moon. I know no more of his lengthy pedigree. yen this was not narrated by himself, but by some of his father’s subjects whom I purchased with him. It is to be regretted that his ancient lineage is not more fully recorded, for then the tablets of history might have been enriched with the knowledge of the spectes to which this race belonged when they quitted the ark of Noah.” Mr. Bagot smoothed his flowing beard, a habit he had of awakening his intellectual lore, and was about to open largely 7 ie ots ER THE TWO GUARDS. upon the subject of ethnography, when, just at this crisis, Leo attracted attention to the field. The air rung with his cries, and he was seen struggling against the efforts of three sturdy slaves, who, with difficulty, retained him by a thong. “Soho!” cried the elder Tourville. “Soho!” echoed the visitors. “He has the scent,” cried Tourville. “Slaves, let go the thongs—give him the run! See—see that noble beast! Was ever deer so beautiful and fleet? There is the promise of recapture in those lungs. Ha, what is that?” suddenly exclaimed the angry planter, as another dog passed swiftly, full on the scent. Tourville turned to demand some explanation. Filesher had ridden up, and was at the planter’s elbow. The sneak- ing negro was no longer to be seen, though the black cloth, now dropped, might have been seen in the background. “What means this, Flesher?” exclaimed the excited planter. “ Who dares thus to defy my orders ?” “Sir,” said the overseer, in his very blandest style, “I’m not less astonished than yourself; but, as the hound dashed by, I saw that it is none of ours. It is a truant from some other plantation, I suppose, and, being fond of the sport, and hearing the bark of Leo, joined in the chase. I much regret the circumstance, sir, but he is no match for Leo. No hound can reap laurels with our Leo in the chase.” These words of adulation appeased the planter’s ire, and he responded, in the pride of ownership : “Yes, Flesher, you are right. Where Leo runs no hound should join the chase that seeks renown.” Young Beaumont Tourville perceived the wily cheat. He saw the cautious negro following in the rear, and was amused at the difficulty the poor slave encountered in retaining in concealment his unruly charge. Then, when Leo gaye tongue, he saw the negro dashed upon the ground, and from the darl. wrapper issue a powerful bloodhound, who, true to his instinct, followed in the trail of the poor fugitive Cesar. But Beaumont, as he had before observed, “never interfered in plantation matters,” and, on this principle, declined to unde- ceive his father. - The horsemen now went forward at a rapid pace. WHAT'S THAT ? g “Look to your safety,” cried the elder ‘Touryille, as he flew through the air upon his gallant steed; “the paths are narrow, and the swamp is deep.” ; They followed the loud baying of the dogs in silence. Yet none rode in that dreadful hunt as did the now exultant Flesher. Every feeling of the animal man was aroused; he intensely enjoyed the hunt. His late expression of anxiety and rage was gone; he was now exultant. Bending forward on his panting steed, that his tutored ear might first catch the shriek of the poor victim when mangled by the dogs, he plunged on, like an avenger, to be = at the struggle. He was the type of a “good overseer,” while Cesar, alas, was the type of a bad slave. How pitiless are the tender mercies of the law and civilization which conspired to produce this drama of Cesar and Flesher ! The hunters had ridden some distance, when a cry was heard. It was an unusual sound—a shriek, a howl, a long cry of agony. Hach rider, as if by consent, drew rein in astonishment. “What's that?’ demanded the elder Touryille, looking toward his friends. “He’s caught—he’s caught!” vociferated Flesher. ‘“ He’s struggling with the dogs!” The whole party were appalled as they beheld his exultant countenance. ‘Touryille exclaimed : “Why, Flesher, you are mad. You have lost your reason to call that a negro’s voice. Beaumont,” he continued, address- ing his son, “you are ever chary of your words, but your judgment is shrewd; what cry was that?” “T think, sir, it was that of a hound in great agony or death.” “You are right, Beaumont. That is my fear,” replied Touryille. Then he added: “Should it be Leo!” “Tt is not Leo, sir,” interfered Beaumont. ‘No degree of suffering would force such a cry from him.” g en said, Beaumont, my son,” said the father, with a smile; “your assurance gives me new courage. We will again pa ow Dborses in quick ‘motion, and hunt down this runaway” The intrep’ ‘p.anter now put Rolla to his best speed, and 28 THE TWO GUARDS. was closely followed by the others. The clang of hoofs rung through the swamp with a dull, heavy sound, as if they betokened the coming doom of the poor negro whom they hunted. After riding some distance, another halt was called. Spread upon the narrow pathway, and steeped in his own blood, was the dead body of a bloodhound. At a glance, the planter saw it was the strange dog. All stood looking at the lifeless body; but the impatient Flesher could not brook delay. . “The slave has killed the hound!” he vociferated. “Let us ride on! Vengeance is on his heels! Leo is on his trail! I would give my ears to-see him brought to bay !” “Silence, Flesher,” said the planter, angered with his intemperate zeal; “if you can not assist us with your reason, do not