University of Virginia Library

1. CHAPTER I.
THE OLD BLOCK-HOUSE.

The day closed, and the moon, which
had been visible in the heavens all the
long day, the pale and pearly-white ghost
of herself, now began to brighten up her
half-shield and lend its silvery radiance
to the earth. The scene upon which she
shone was varied and beautiful, and its
enchantment was heightened by the soft
lustre of her beams and the mysteriously
comingled light and shade. A dark,
transparent river flowed swiftly, and with
many a flashing wave and sparkling ripple,
beneath a double arched bridge that
spanned its banks, uniting a pleasant town
upon one side, with a verdant meadow
on the other: upon which stood a Block-house
and barracks half-buried in a score
of majestic elms that grew upon the level
sward. Close to the base of the old
Block-house flowed past the deep current
of the river winding just below it
gracefully around a point, parting still
farther below to embrace a little green
island.

From the banks of the river on the
east side the shores went up with an
agreeable ascent to a ridge half a mile
distant, wooded with larch and oak, and
over which wound the road which led
from the bridge. On the west side,
clustered about the bridge and climbing
here and there the hill side, was the
pleasant town above alluded to. It was
over-looked by a dark-crested hill, which
with that on the east of the river, enclosed
the village, river, bridge and
Block-house in a narrow but picturesque
valley, about a mile wide.

The river, after passing the Block-house
and the village, made a bold course
a mile below, wheeling around a rock
known as `The Half-way-rock,' and
which presented not only a striking appearance
from insulated position at the
extremity of a low beach, but from the
the resemblance of its outline when viewed
from up the river, to a human head.
Now, in the moonlight, seen from the
Block-house, it looked like a loaded barge
coming round the point. A mile below
this rock glimpses of the white fronts
and gleaming roofs of another village
could be seen, the gilded vane of its
church kindled by the moonbeams to the

brightness of sunny gold, and looking
like a light upon the land.

The river was without bark or boat in
motion; but at one of the small piers of
the town lay three or four vessels, dark
and motionless; and at a little wharf just
below the Block-house was firmly secured
a small schooner with a swallow-tailed
stern; but her sails were furled,
and there seemed to be no one on board,
though a large newfoundland dog was
pacing up and down the deck with a regularity
and gravity that had evidently
been copied from the skipper, his master,
in his watches.

It was a summer's night and the air
was soft and pleasant, and their was just
wind enough in motion to cool the atmosphere.
The whippor-will uttered his
lonely cry from the covert of a willow
that grew near the Block-house, and over
the water the speckled night-hawk on arrowy
wing darted after the sparkling fire-fly.
With a deep, sonorous, but pleasing
murmur came to the ear the sound of the
rapids a mile above the bridge, the foaming
wreaths which were constantly borne
past on the surface of the dark river.

The Block-house was untenanted, and
stood solitary and deserted amid the
scene. The oaken shutters of its windows
were in many cases unhinged, and
grass grew in the loop-holes and crevices
of the logs. It was one of those early
structures erected by the pioneers of the
wilderness, both for the purpose of defence
and trade. It was an eight-sided
house, elevated ten feet from the ground,
upon a square base of hewn logs, strongly
secured, and enclosing a space which
had no inlet from the ground, but was
entered by a trap-door from the floor
above. This enclosure was perfectly
dark, and was used to hold stores and
amunition. The Block-house proper was
so much larger than the square of hewn
imber which raised it so far from the
ground, thal it projected six or seven feet
beyond its walls on every side, leaving a
broad shelter underneath from sun and
rain. The only access to this upper portion
of the edifice was by a ladder which
was let down as persons wished to ascend,
and drawn up after them. It had
only one door and several small windows,
and on every side was perforated with
loop-holes for muskets. The roof went
up into a point in the centre, and was
ornamented by an arrow which had once
been gilt, but was now nearly black with
time and weather.

The situation of this structure was
very pleasant, being upon a perfectly
level green, and opposite the village, with
an agreeable prospect down the river.
About forty yards in its rear east was a
second building, constructed of hewn
timber, with thick walls, two stories in
height, and about sixty feet in length.
This had been erected fifty years before,
when the Block-house was built as quarters
for a detachment of soldiers which
were for some time stationed here to
protect the settlers against the Indians
and guard the river against the excursions
of the English and Indian from the
Canadas.

But it and the Block-house afterwards
fell into the hands of four traders who
occupied it for some time, and more than
once successfully defended it against the
attacks of Indians, who tempted with the
hope of plunder, combined together for
its capture.

But the soldier, the Indian, and the
trader had passed away and the valley
of the river smiled with harvests and the
dwellings of civilized life. The old Block-house
nevertheless remained a relic of
the early times of the country, and seemed
to stand among the modern abodes
that surrounded it, like the old warrior-patriarch
of the land.

Although it could be converted to no

use, the townsmen still let it stand,
reverencing it for the memory of the
Past; but the barrack-edifiee which embraced
all the conveniences of a dwelling-nouse
in its structure, came into the
hands of a stout old sea-captain who had
cast anchor there for life, after enduring
the storms and safely passing through the
perils of a long and honorable, and
withal prosperous sea-life.

The old barrack, though still something
severe in its aspect, from the massive
timber that composed its walls, had
nevertheless lost much of its war-like
exterior. It could be seen, even by the
moonlight, that the hand of taste had
been at work to cover and beautify its
rough exterior. It had been white-washed,
and shone like snow through the
trees as the moon in glimpses amid the
foliage of the old elms was reflected from
its front; and a little yard had been enclosed
by a low white palnig, and flowers
were cultivated in it; and woodbine,
honey-suckle, and the graceful vine of
the mountain wreath had been laught to
climb up the sides of the door and creep
a-top of the windows, and to form a
pretty net-work of tendrils and leaves, by
means of guiding twine, over half its
front wall. On each side of the door-step
was a small vase, one containing a
geranium in full bloom, the other gorgeously
laden with an hydranger.

It was very clear that there was some
body else an inmate of the barrack besides
the hardy, rich old sea-captain. But
we will not anticipate our story.

The moon had not been shining upon
the steep, coffee-pot-like roof of the Block-house
more than half an hour, leaving
one half of its walls in deep shadow,
when the sharp out-line of the shadow at
one angle was broken by another shadow,
which was plainly in motion and
seemed to be projected from that of the
building. At first it was difficult to tell
what cast this new shadow, whether a
human being or some one of the kine
that loved to lie about the Block-house,
around which they had all day cropped
the rich grass.

But the shadow, which at first advanced
slowly and with an uncertain
movement, at length was fully defined
and proved to be that of a human being.
No one, however, was as yet visible, for
the angle of the Block-house concealed
the person, whoever he was, and who
had evidently just gained the top of the
bank from the shore, and was now stooping
as he advanced to the covert of the
building. The shadow was at length lost
in that of the Block-house, and the next
moment a man appeared in the moon
lighted space that lay between it and the
barrack. He looked cautiously about
him, and listened like one who fears he
may be noticed and would escape observation.

As he turns his face towards the river,
he discovers the dark skin and flat features
of an African; a discovery which
the outline of his figure as seen in the
shadow had very clearly promised. He
was a short, bow-legged negro, with a
broad back, very long and loosely set
arms, and enormous feet projecting at the
heel more than is usual with his race.
He had on his head an old tarpaulin hat,
wore a patched sailor's jacket, and a pair
of breeches too large for his limbs. His
legs, from his knees, were encased in
long red stockings, and his feet were
thrust into an old pair of white-topped
boots, not a little soiled with age and
weather.

His age could not have been more
than two and twenty, his features were
large, expressive of good nature, and
contented ignorance. Upon his back he
bore a bag filled with some weight, beneath
which he had staggered, and which
had caused the erratic motion, and mystery

of outline observable in his shadow.
He now set the sack down at his feet,
and taking a long breath, said, as he
looked about him:

`Dis am berry hard work for you Cæ
sar, berry hard dis warm night. Berry
steep bank dis ribber hab, berry much
so. Dare de house ob massa cap'n ober
dere, coz dis be de house on top ob anoder
house, jiss as massa Archy 'scribe
hime partickerly to dis nigger. He say,
you come to a big rock, and hab face
like man. I come to im rock, and see
him face sure enuff, jiss like a man wid
a nose on him head—it like to scare dis
nigger, but I keeps dark and ses notin,
and den pulls over to de oder side ob de
ribber, jiss as massa Archy d'rect. Wall
I mos up by,m by, comes to a leetle island,
and I goes 'tween dat and de shore
and den I passes a leetle pint wid an oak
dippin' in der water, and den I sees de
Block-house up on de bank jiss b'low de
bridge, jiss precise as massa Archy say.
Den I ties my skiff and takes my bag ob
orange on my back, and climbs de berry
steep bank, and sure enuff, here I sees de
Brock-house settin' right on top ob anoder
house, cny de top house mos' biggest.
Dat am massa cap'n's house ober across
de green, coz it answer perfect de scription
Archy gib me. I hopes massa
cap'n 'll gib dis nigger a horn ob grog,
coz it sich a berry warm night. What
roar noise dat? It sound like em airthquake
in de West Indyz.' he cried looking
round somewhat startled, as a stronger
current of air bore to his ear a louder
reverberation of the rapids above. `Hear
dat bird keep gwain tellin me to whip
poor Will. Dis nigger hab someting else
to do, massa bird. Who dare? Dat be
somebody comin' dis way Massa Archy
tell me say noting to nobody, but jiss
leave de oranges wid miss—no—wid
massa cap'n, though I know de is for de
young lady, and den go away agen tellin
nothin to nobody as 'quires.'

`Hulloah! who are you there? Stop,'
cried a person who had issued from the
bridge a few moments previous, and had
began to approach the block-house, with
an uncertain step, as if he hardly knew
whether to advance or not; but as he got
nigher, and discovered the negro, and
saw him hurriedly about to take up his
bag and retreat, he quickened his pace
and called to him.

Cæsar would have continued on towards
the barrack with his sack once
more slung across his shoulder, but the
imperative tone and rapid step of the
other led him to stop, and see what was
wanted with him.

What are you doing here?' demanded
the young man, for he was not more
than two or three-and-twenty, coming
close to him, and looking him in the face
steadily and scrutinizingly.

`I'm ony takin' a walk, massa, by dis
ere pleasant moonlight night. It berry
pleasant.'

`What is your name?'

`Dat am berry ticklar kestion, massa,'
replied Cesar, laughing good naturedly;
`berry much so.'

`I need not ask: you are the person I
began to suspect. I know who you are.
I thought I would know that figure anywhere:
I am not mistaken. Where is
your master?' he added in an under tone,
`Who would have thought of meeting
this fellow here!'

`Cesar did not altogether like the manner
nor the questions of the stranger,
and when he said that he knew him, and
then asked in a fierce tone after his
young master, he began to put himself
on his guard, and to eye him suspiciously;
for the features of the new comer
were disguised by a handkerchief, tied
high above his chin and collar, and the
low drooping of the visor to his cap.
He looked like a person who did not wish
to be recognized. He was tall and of

good figure, and wore a shabby undress
military coat, blue infantry pants with a
white stripe down the leg, and at his belt
hung an empty sheath, the sword being
carried in his hand. This military costume
did not surprise or alarm the negro,
for the three year's war with England
was just drawing to a close, and the
roads everywhere were thronged with
discharged soldiers returning to their
homes; and so the military costume in
the towns as the plainer coat of the citizen.

`He know me, he say,' thought Cesar,
as he tried to get a sight at his features,
which the young man seemed to endeavor
to hide from him by turning his face
from the light; `I hab hear dat voice
afore, and for de life ob me I disremembers
where. It mont be in New Orleans
or Boston, or de West Ingee. But it
somewhere, sure; and I know if I hab
seen him afore, it wont on a pleasant occasion,
coz I kind ob feel it want, tho'
I doesn't know xactly when nor where
'twas. But he sure be massa Archy's
enemy, I tell dat by de way he ax ater
him.

`You have'nt answered me? Where
is your master or whatever he is to you,
Archer Worthington?' repeated the soldier,
in a peremptory tone. `Is he in
this country? Has he returned?'

`Well, I don't know who dis gemman
is dat axes so many kestions,' answered
Cesar, moving on, and so I begs to be excuse
from answerin' them. Dese is war
times, and folk cant be too ticklar who
dey talk wid.'

With these words he moved on across
de green. The young man advanced a
step or two, and placing himself before
him, said sternly.

`Tell me whither you are going?'

`Massa, dis free country, for nigger
walk where he choose,' answered Cesar,
very resolutely, and with a something in
his tone that showed the stranger that it
would not be safe to rouse his anger.

`Cesar,' he said suddenly changing his
tone, `I am a friend to your master, his
particular friend? Seeing you here
shows me that he has returned, and I
am anxious to see him again, after his
long absence. You ought to treat a friend
and townsman of your master's more civilly.'

`How you know I belong massa Archy?
I nebber here afore? Where you
see me?'

`Where did I ever see you?' repeated
the young man with some embarrassment,
like guilty hesitation.

`Yes, massa.'

`Well, I dare say, I have seen you
often before. Oh, it was in the South, I
think. But, no matter. What have you
in that sack?'

`Oranges.'

`And what are you going to do with
them?'

`Massa, jiss show me your face and
eyes, and den, may be I tell you,' answered
Cesar, in a tone as if he didn't
like the way he was interrogated. `Indeed
his liveliest suspicions in reference
to the stranger were roused, and he made
up his mind that, whoever he was, he
was an enemy; and should, therefore,
get nothing out of him.

`You are going to that house!' said
the man, pointing emphatically to the barrack,
in one of the lower windows of
which a candle shone through the leaves
of the mountain wreath that trelliced the
window.

`I may go dar, and I may go odder
whar,' answered Cesar. `Massa, please
step out ob de way? coz people gets into
diffikilties sometimes dat stands in
oder people's way; and in dis case dis
nigger no be sponsible for consequences.'

`Very well, I'll remember you,' answered
the young man, evidently suppressing

his anger, and fearing to rouse
the negro, whom he saw loosen a knife,
stuck in a leather strap that hung at his
waist. `Do you know who lives in that
house?' he added, as he stepped aside.

`I'll ax em when I gets to de door,'
responded Cesar, moving on direct for
the dwelling of the rich old sea-captain.

The stranger stood and watched him,
and saw him enter the little passage across
the flower garden to the door, and knock
at it. He saw a person—a female, whose
face, seen by the moonlight, was fair and
youthful, come to the the door, and beheld
the negro place in her hand a note.
He knew it was a note, for it shone white
in the moon beams, as she took it. He
heard an expression of joy, as it seemed
to him, from her; and the negro with his
sack was received into the house, and the
door closed.

`Fiends crush this Archer Worthington!'
he muttered fiercely through
his clenched teeth as he witnessed
all this. `There is no doubt that he
has returned—he and this infernal
faithful negro with him, who, I wish, was
in the bottom of the sea, ere I had ever
met him. But he has not recognised me
in my beard and mustache, and careful
concealment of my features and voice.
How strange that I should have met him
of all others here to-night on this very
spot. When I was crossing the bridge I
saw the fellow land cautiously and noiselessly,
as if he was at some mischief, and
so excited my suspicions; and as he gained
the block-house, even at the distance
I was, I thought I recognised in his figure
that of one familiar to me. And so it
proved. His master must be in the country,
and escaped after all. If so, then I
am defeated on all sides. But I will not
give up the fair Blanche as lost. She
loves Worthington. That was clear to
me from the first. and I have just had
proof of it in the delighted exclamation
that escaped her when she took the letter
from the negro, and recognized by moonlight
the handwriting. This shows she is
familiar with it. I will wait and see this
negro when he comes out, and he shall
let me know whether Worthington has
returned, or I will have his black heart
out.'

With this determination the young man
drew back into the shadow of the projecting
story of the Block-house, and
there paced to and fro watching the house
across the green like a wolf in an ambush.