UNIVERSITY OF N.C. AT CHAPEL HILL 
 
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 THE LIBRARY OF THE 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 AT CHAPEL HILL 
 
 ENDOWED BY THE 
 DIALECTIC AND PHILANTHROPIC 
 SOCIETIES 
 
 PS 1382 
 • L 6? 
 1893 
 
LORD FAIRFA. 
 
 OB, 
 
 MASTER OF GREENWAY C0UR1 
 
 By JOHN ESTEN COOKE, 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 SURRY OF EAGLES NEST," "MOHUN," " HILT 
 TO HILT," ETC., ETC. " 
 
 CHARLESTON, S. C. 
 
 THE MARTIN & HOYT COMPANY, 
 
 MDCCCXCIII. 
 
 Copyright, 1892, by G. W. Dillingham, 
 
FAIRFAX; 
 
 OB, 
 
 THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 THREE CAVALIERS. 
 
 •N an evening of October, in the year 1748, the 
 slopes of the Blue Eidge at Ashby's Gap were all 
 ablaze with the red light of the sinking sun. 
 ^ At this hour of hours, in the month of months, 
 two horsemen coming from the east, ascended the steep 
 road above the present village of Paris, and ere long .cached 
 the summit of the mountain. 
 
 What they saw before them, looking westward from that 
 point, was worthy of attention from the most indifferent. 
 Through the foliage-embowered walls of the mountain pass, 
 the eye embraced a wondrous spectacle. 
 
 Southward, the ramparts of the great Blue Bidge rolled 
 away like waves of the ocean, disappearing in a delicate 
 mist. Beyond the Shenandoah stretched a limitless prairie, 
 starred with brilliant flowers, which the fall winds gently 
 agitated, making the expanse resemble a vast lake, whose 
 waves were of every color of the rainbow. In the dim dis- 
 tance, on the far horizon, rose the azure battlements of the 
 Great North Mountain : and in front, the Massinuttoia 
 
 524688 
 
4.6 FAIRFAX ; CB, 
 
 soared aloft- -its L \;e blue outline standing out, dear cul, 
 against the crimson curtain the sunset. 
 
 Never did artist, in his dreams of supernal glory, imagine 
 anything more lovely than this landscape. The richest col- 
 ors seemed exhausted to make up the picture. Forest and 
 prairie, river and mountain, shone in blue and gold and 
 crimson : — the rosy mist of autumn drooped above the land- 
 scape like a dream : — the enchanting Valley of the Shenan- 
 doah lay before the eyes of the travellers like some land of 
 Faery or bright realm of Arcady. 
 
 One was young, the other had reached middle age. Let 
 us draw their outlines with a few strokes of the pen. The 
 first was a boy of sixteen ; tall, straight, and full of life. 
 His hair was brown and curling, his complexion ruddy, his 
 lips smiling. He wore a jaunty little cocked hat; elegant 
 top boots ; kneebreeches of buckskin ; a broadskirted coat, 
 and white ruffles ; in his hand he carried a small rifle, and 
 behind his saddle were strapped the instruments of a sur- 
 veyor. The laughing boy rode a handsome little sorrel, and 
 his smile, his carriage, his gestures, all indicated youth and 
 joy and hope. 
 
 His companion was no longer young, and a grim smile lit 
 up the bold features, vividly contrasting with the enthusiasm 
 of the boy. The worthy was tall of stature, huge of limb, a 
 gigantic war machine, armed to the teeth and ready for com- 
 bat. Under the drooping hat flashed a pair of dark eyes be- 
 neath shaggy brows; the sarcastic lips were hidden by a hea- 
 vy black moustache which swept down into the huge beard ; 
 and behind this moustache shone a row of sharp white teeth 
 which resembled those of a bear rather than a man. His 
 dress was rough, travel-stained, and chiefly of leather ; from 
 his well-worn belt depended an enormous broadsword, which 
 clattered against his heavy boots — and the warlike person- 
 age bestrode a charger, mighty of limb, and as rough and 
 powerful in appearance as himself. 
 The two figures remained for n moment stationary, gazing 
 
THE MASTER OF GBEENWAI :OTJRT. N 11 
 
 at the landscape ; then the elder touched his horse, an<J 
 moved on. 
 
 " Come, my young friend," he said, in a species of growl, 
 "the sun's getting low yonder, and we had better push on 
 and cross the Shenandoah before dark." 
 
 "Yes, yes, Captain," returned the boy, "but I could look 
 at this scene forever — see the beautiful colors of the leaver 
 and hear the wind in the pines !' 
 
 He who had been thus addressed, smiled grimly. 
 
 " Listen to him !" he growled : " sentiment in the back- 
 wood, i'faith ! Keep it for the ladies, Master George I — it's 
 thrown away on Captain Julius Wagner, otherwise called 
 Captain Bloody Longknife, or the Devil take me !" 
 
 " Pshaw, Captain !" laughed the boy, " that is all affecta- 
 tion. You ar9 known to be romantic — to be a favorite with 
 the ladies ! As well deny that you are the prince of fron- 
 tier-fighters." 
 
 A grim smile curled the huge moustache, and with his fin- 
 ger the worthy pushed up that appendage until it stood out 
 almost horizontal. 
 
 "My young friend," was the sarcastic reply, "you are flat- 
 tering. I reply to your pleasing observation by saying that 
 my fortune, both as an admirer of the fair sex, and a defend- 
 er of the border, has been truly disgusting — more especially 
 the latter. Glorious ! the life of a soldier ! Humph ! to 
 wear your life out fighting, and then die, some day, in an 
 unremembered skirmish ! — to have an end put to you by a 
 stray bullet from the rifle of a rascally Injun ; — to be hud 
 died into a hole to everybody's satisfaction, who will get pro- 
 motion by your death ! — there's fame, there's glory, there's 
 good fortune !" 
 
 And the Captain's lip curled elaborately. 
 
 "But you have done your duty 1" said the ardent boy; 
 " that at least remains. And are you not Captain Wagner, 
 Jie Valiant?" 
 
 "Oh yes! Captain Wagner the Valiant, without a dean 
 
12 
 
 FAIRFAX; OR, 
 
 shirt ! Captain Wagner the Valiant, zn leather breeches i 
 Captain "Wagner the Valiant, in an old seedy buff coat, and 
 boots with holes, and rusty old spurs, that jingle, by my 
 faith, like the armor of Mars, that Egyptian hero I have 
 heard of ! Yes, that's all Captain Wagner is fit for — seedy 
 coat, boots in holes, rusty spurs, and fighting Injuns 1 
 W orse even than that ! I am becoming a mere courier, a 
 travelling horse, a miserable hack — I would be a dandy T 
 " A dandy !" laughed George. 
 
 " Yes, young one, a dandy, like what I have seen yonder at 
 Belhaven, i'faith ! A nicely curled fop, with silk gloves, a jew- 
 elled snuff-box, and a sweet little simper in my voice — then 
 I'd please the fair sex. Oh that Wagner was a dandy — 
 Wagner the savage ! Oh that the shaggy old bear, with his 
 gTowling voice, and long sharp teeth, could be changed into 
 a kitten, sleek and glossy, to gently pur-r-r-r-r ! — and be 
 taken up into the female lap, and smoothed down the back, 
 and made a pet of!" 
 
 George replied with a laugh much gayer than before. 
 
 " I really believe you have had bad luck lately, Captain ! 
 Is it possible that " — — 
 
 " All things are possible in this miserable world, my young 
 friend ; but I decline any statement upon this interesting 
 topic." 
 
 " Oh, now I remember ! I heard that the handsome Mrs. 
 
 Butterton " 
 
 " Don't call names, George, my friend, and let us change 
 the subject. I am getting hungry, or the Devil take me ; 
 and yonder I see the Shenandoah between us and supper. 
 The water's up and booming or 111 eat my hea d !" 
 
 And pushing on they approached the river, which roared 
 on angrily beneath the huge white-armed s^jamores, grow- 
 ing on the steep bank, and extending their boughs above 
 the current. 
 
 All at once, as George and his companion reached the 
 bank, their attention was attracted by a white object in th« 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENW A I COURT. 
 
 middle of the stream, which the fading light illumined — and 
 this object was seen to be the head of a horse, above which 
 rose a pair of shoulders, and a hat decorated with a black 
 feather. 
 
 "A good swimmer/' muttered Wagner; "who the devil 
 can he be ? — but we'll soon see. Come, Injun-hater, take to 
 water!" 
 
 And spurring his black charger into the angry current, 
 Captain Wagner began to swim with the phlegm of an old 
 traveller — George following in his wake upon his little sorrel. 
 The snorting animals ploughed their way through the 
 rapid current ; placed their feet upon the opposite bank ; 
 and with vigorous bounds reached dry land again. The • 
 rider of the white horse had already emerged from the 
 stream, and was awaiting them. 
 
 He was a young man of twenty-three or four, erect, slen- 
 der, and what is called " aristocratic " in face, bearing, and 
 expression. The frank and smiling countenance was lit up 
 by a species of joyous pride — that sunshine beaming in the 
 sky of youth — and it was plain from the young man's 
 dress, as from the carriage of his person, that he belonged 
 to the class then known as " the Gentry." His brown coat 
 was heavily embroidered ; his delicate ruffles as white as 
 snow, and his fair top boots, defining the small and slender 
 feet, of the finest leather. At his side, he wore a handsome 
 sword in a black leather belt ; behind the saddle was his 
 valise, of the same material, and his hands were cased in 
 yellow gauntlets, reaching nearly to the elbow. One of 
 those hands now reined in, with careless grace, the spirited 
 thoroughbred, dripping from the stream; with the other he 
 made a salute full of friendly courtesy to Captain Wagner 
 and George. 
 
 " Give you good day, gentlemen," he said, in a clear anu 
 Bonorous voice. ''As we are travelling in the same direction, 
 perhaps you can direct me on my way. Where are we ai 
 uhis moment?" 
 
14 
 
 FAIRFAX; OK, 
 
 "111 tell you in a few words, my friend," returned Wag- 
 ner. " You are now in the Great Valley of Virginia, other- 
 wise, the Shenandoah Valley, not a long way from that 
 assemblage of huts called Winchester; what is better, con- 
 sidering supper, you are near Greenway Court, the residence 
 of Thomas Lord Fairfax, baron of Cameron, and so forth 
 and so forth — a friend of mine, who will not let you go fur 
 ther to-night, comrade." 
 
 "Good ! I came to see his lordship." 
 
 " Well, you have only to follow us. My name is Wagner, 
 and my young friend is called Mr. George." 
 
 The stranger saluted with a motion full of grace and 
 frankness. 
 
 " You are by no means a stranger to me, Captain," he 
 replied, " and I am truly glad to make your acquaintance — 
 also yours, Mr. George. My own name is Falconbridge — 
 very much at your serviee." 
 
 " Good, good !" said the Captain, twirling his moustache. 
 " I like these little complimentary speeches : thay sweeten 
 this miserable life! Well, comrade — and observe, I must 
 decidedly have taken a fancy to you, as I call you ' com- 
 rade' all the time — a few miles from here is the white 
 post his lordship has stuck up to direct travellers to Green- 
 way. I never see that post but the long arms se6m to 
 stretch out toward me, and a voice says, ' Come on, Wag- 
 ner, supper is smoking V " 
 
 With these words, the worthy put spur to his horse, and 
 set forward, his companions following and conversing. In 
 fifteen minutes, George had completely fallen in love with 
 the young man, whose smiles and accents, full of winning 
 simplicity, won his heart. From that moment to the end of 
 the drama, these two hearts were to beat in unison. 
 
 Captain Wagner was meanwhile pushing on, through the 
 tall grass of the prairie, over which stretched a narrow 
 road, his mind absorbed in deep reflection on the subject 
 :>f supper. The last rays of sunset streaming over the great, 
 
THE MASTER OlT GEEENWAt COtJBT. IS 
 
 nowery expanse^ ailed to- attract his attention ; he moved 
 on steadily ; then a grunt was heard from the worthy, and 
 his finger pointed to a white post, glimmering in the twi 
 light 
 
 From this, a good road led to Greenway Court, scarce a 
 mile away. They followed the road; a clump of oaks rose 
 all at once before them, and a long, low mansion, in front ol 
 which some locusts grew. The travellers had reached 
 Greenway Court, the residence of Lord Fairfax. 
 
16 
 
 FAIRFAX ; OB, 
 
 n. 
 
 GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 SEEN WAY COURT was a long, stone building, 
 with an extensive portico, and the roof was over- 
 shadowed by the boughs of lofty locust trees. 
 At each end rose a slender chimney ; between, 
 upon the summit of the roof, were seen two belfries ; be- 
 neath, three or four dormer windows were brushed by the 
 October foliage. 
 
 At fifty paces from the mansion, and connected with it fry 
 a winding path, across the sward, a low stone cabin nestled 
 under a great tree — and here Lord Fairfax, sitting in state, 
 with his court of deer-hounds, had delivered the title deeds 
 of nearly all that portion of Virginia. 
 
 The grounds of the mansion wero encircled by a rude 
 fence, and to this fence Captain Wagner proceeded to 
 attach his horse, in which he was imitated by his com- 
 panions. 
 
 They were not, however, the first comers. Near at hand 
 were seen two animals, tethered in the same manner; one, a 
 plain, substantial cob ; the other a slender-legged filly, cov- 
 ered with a cloth, which evidently concealed a woman's 
 saddle. 
 
 Captain Wagner gazed intently for an instant, at the two 
 animals, which seemed familiar to him ; pulled his moustache 
 upward with his finger, nodded confidentially, and then wont 
 with long strides toward the house, his conrpanions following. 
 
 The main room, which the Borderer now entered, was 
 peculiar. It was an apartment hung around with guns, 
 blunderbuses, antlers, portraits, fishing nets, and long 
 tapering rods. The walls were rough and rudely plastered 
 
THE MASTER OF OREENWAY COURT. 
 
 17 
 
 — the furniture oaken, with the exception of two or three 
 high-backed, carven chairs of mahogany, then very rare ; 
 and on some shelves in one corner, near a buffet of oak, a 
 number of old volumes in brown leather binding were visi- 
 ble, much worn and soiled. Among these was a fine em- 
 bossed copy of the "Spectator," lately printed in London, 
 to which the owner of the mansion had contributed some 
 papers, written perhaps in the study of his friend, Joseph 
 Addison. 
 
 It will thus be seen that the apartment was a striking 
 exhibition of the commingling of two things — refinement, 
 and rudeness, of two types, the court and the backwoods. 
 This characteristic was further apparent in the jumble of sil- 
 ver plate, and cheap gaily-colored crockery on the buffet : and 
 finally, the muzzle of a rifle standing in the corner had 
 forced itself between the leaves of one of those volumes in 
 which serene Mr. Addison discussed the last refinements of 
 the luxurious society of England. 
 
 This wagrfche apartment which the travellers entered- -to 
 whose broad fire-place, with its crackling sticks, they drew 
 near. 
 
 Lord Fairfax was not visible, but two other personages 
 were seated before the fire, illuminated by the last beams of 
 sunset streaming through the western window. The first 
 was a gentleman past middle age, plainly clad, and with 
 nothing striking in his appearance. The other personage, a 
 young girl, whose figure was eminently noticeable. She was 
 apparently about twenty, with dark hair, dark eyes and radi- 
 ant complexion. Her bare arms, from which she had thrown 
 the sleeves of her riding cloak, were models of symmetry, 
 and her figure was extremely graceful. She was clad richly 
 for the border, and wore many rings upon her tapering fin- 
 gers, but no one for a moment gave a thought to h^r cos- 
 tume. The remarkable face attracted all eyes. It was a 
 singular face — the eyes dark and liquid, full of softness and 
 fire; the lips red and moist, and adapted to expr*««> f»Jl 
 
 7 
 
18 
 
 FAIRFAX; OR, 
 
 amotions; the brow lefty and snow white; the poise and cai 
 riage of the head, and equally of the person, fascinating. Thia 
 was the appearance of the young woman whom the stranger 
 gazed at with surprise and admiration. 
 
 Captain Wagner greeted the occupants of the apartment 
 with the air of an old acquaintance, acquitting himself of the 
 task of introduction with much easy unconcern, except that 
 a keen observer might have imagined from the rude frontiers- 
 man's manner that the lady was no favorite with him. 
 
 This, however, was not seen by George or Falconbridge; 
 at least they did not bow the less low, or smile the less 
 courteously. 
 
 (l See," said the Captain, stroking his beard and smiling 
 amiably, " see what pleasant people we meet at the end of 
 our journey, instead of my Lord Fairfax, who, I don't mind 
 saying, is sometimes, nevertheless, an agreeable companion. 
 Faith ! I know ray good luck, friend Argal, and would 
 rather be here than out yonder in the backwoods with some 
 surly rascal, who crouches over a wet fire and grudges you 
 your seat on the log, and your part of the blanket ! And 
 then the smoke !" continued the Borderer, bending over the 
 blaze, and snuffing up the clouds of white smoke; "faith! 
 it reminds me of my childhood — our chimney smoked !" 
 
 George smiled and sat down opposite the soldier; the 
 stranger had already taken his seat near the young lady, and 
 had entered into conversation with her. 
 
 " Well, friend Argal," said the Captain to the gentleman 
 who held in his hand a package of papers which he had 
 been examining, "what news on the border? Any Injuns, 
 eh?" 
 
 "Yes, Captain," said Mr. Argal, courteously, " reports are 
 rife about them." 
 " Eeports?" 
 
 " They say that there is imminent danger of an inroad 
 soon." 
 
 "Humph I" replied the Borderer,—" * they say* is a gretA 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 18 
 
 iar, I need not tell you, sir. But let us not frighten tha 
 fair sex. I hope Miss Bertha is well?" 
 
 And the soldier, with a movement in which a cloae 
 observer might have descried a singular coldness, turned to 
 the young girl. 
 
 She simply inclined her head, and went on conversing 
 with the stranger; toward him her air was very different. 
 It was full of a winning grace, a fascinating favor. 
 
 The Borderer did not seem to notice all this, but a vague . 
 sound from his stalwart chest indicated some concealed 
 sentiment. This, however, he suppressed in a moment, and 
 turning to Mr. Argal, he said : 
 
 "I don't see my Lord Fairfax. Where is he, my dear 
 friend?" 
 
 " He is gone a-'unting, sir," said a grave and respectful 
 voice behind the soldier, " a-'unting, if you please, sir." 
 
 " Ah ! here's old John !" cried the Borderer ; "glad to see „ 
 you, my friend. Faith, give me your hand !" 
 
 And the Captain cordially pressed the hand of the old 
 servant. Old John was Lord Fairfax's body servanl, and 
 wore his master's livery with the exception of the coat, 
 which was one of the earl's — heavily laced and ornamented 
 
 He took the offered hand of the soldier with deep respect, 
 and then drew back quietly, overwhelmed with the honor. 
 
 " He's gone a-hunting has he — the good earl ! eh? "Well, 
 when will he return, John?" 
 
 " I rayther expect him to-night, sir," said John. 
 
 "Good! — then you are not certain?" 
 
 " No, sir; very often he is gone a day or two, sir." 
 
 And John stood respectfully awaiting further questions. 
 
 "Did he expect me to-day?" 
 
 " I think rayther, sir." 
 
 " Very well, get me supper and beds for my friends." 
 Old John was in his element again; his, master's hospital* 
 ily was put in requisition. 
 "D'recily ? sir— yes, sir," he said, going toward the side- 
 
20 
 
 FAIRFAX; OB, 
 
 board. "Plenty o' beds, sir, for you and your honor's 
 
 friends — d'rectly, sir 1" 
 
 But Mr. Argal stopped him as he was going out. 
 
 "Bring up our horses first, John," he said, "I have waited 
 as long as possible to see his lordship. It is already night, 
 Bertha." 
 
 Bertha placed one hand upon her breast, and uttered n 
 
 little cough. 
 
 " Yes, sir," she said, "I wish we had gone sooner. I am 
 afraid" 
 
 And the young girl was interrupted by a violent fit of 
 
 coughing. 
 
 "What! you have a very bad attack of cold," said her 
 father. " I did not observe it before." 
 
 " Yes, sir," returned the young girl, placing her hand 
 upon her throat, and contracting her beautiful brows, as 
 though she were suffering pain; "yes, sir, I have felt it com- 
 ing on all day, but managed to suppress it until now. It 
 pains me very much:" here she paused to cough again; 
 " but if you desire it, I will " 
 
 A more violent fit here seized the young lady, and she 
 coughed until she was completely exhausted, leaning back 
 in her chair for support. 
 
 Mr. Argal looked very much annoyed. 
 
 "Permit me to say, sir," said Falconbridge, " that expos- 
 ure to the night air will aggravate Miss Argal's indisposition. 
 
 If possible she should remain here until " 
 
 1 Another fit of coughing. 
 
 " But I cannot — it will be extremely inconvenient: besides 
 the house here is limited in size, and " 
 
 "Don't fear, your honor," here interposed old John, who 
 had enttred with a hissing urn and a pile of plates the mo- 
 ment before. "Don't fear, sir; plenty of room, sir. We 
 have two spare chambers, and several beds in them, sir' my 
 master would never hear of your going, sir." 
 
 Mr, Argal hesitated, evidently annoyed. 
 
THE MASTER OF GItEENWAY COURT. 
 
 21 
 
 "Getting very cold, sir," added the hospitable John, re- 
 spectfully, "and if it's not presuming sir, the young lady, 
 sir, is " 
 
 Here the young lady coughed distressingly. 
 
 " I'll go if you wish, father," she said, in an artless, un- 
 complaining voice; "but my breast feels very badly. I 
 don't suppose it will make me very sick — if you want to go, 
 sir 
 
 " Well, well, daughter, we will remain," said the old gen- 
 tleman. " If you are really unwell, all the business in the 
 world shall not make me you take you out. See to cur 
 horses, John," he added, " and as you say there are cham- 
 bers, make one of the women prepare a bed for my 
 daughter." 
 
 "Yes, sir — d'rectly, sir." 
 
 And old John, having set the table with the ease of a 
 practiced hand, hurried out, and was heard giving orders in 
 a magisterial tone to the negroes of the establishment. 
 
 Captain Wagner remained silent, gazing into the fire; his 
 huge shoulders bending forward, as was habitual with him, 
 and his sword striking heavily from time to time against 
 the floor as he moved. 
 
 George was looking over a map of the region, which he 
 had taken from the shelves; Falconbridge and Miss ArgaJ 
 had resumed their conversation. 
 
 The young lady's cough had disappeared. 
 
 Then old John entered, marshalling in a smoking supper, 
 borne by youthful Africans; and the savory odor seemed to 
 diffuse an emotion of pleasing satisfaction through the 
 mind of Captain Wagner. 
 
 They all supped comfortably, and the Borderer was still 
 eating when they had finished. 
 
 "Faith, I'm always hungry!" he said ; "more beef, friend 
 John." 
 
 " Yes, sir — d'rectly, sir." 
 
 And old John carved rapidly. 
 
FAIRFAX ; OR, 
 
 M More everythiBg I" said the Captaio, " I've just com- 
 menced, or the devil take it." 
 
 More of everything was supplied, and at last the soldiei 
 rose, stretching himself, and yawning. 
 
 " Nearly bed-time, I think I" he said. " Come, George I 
 give up my couch " 
 
 " Your couch, Captain ?" 
 
 " Yes, that leather chair ! Vacate 1 I sleep here by the 
 fire; I know nothing of beds!" 
 
 George smiled, and resigned his broad, sloping-backed 
 chair. 
 
 " You and the rest can take the big room," continued the 
 Captain; " this young lady the small apartment Faith ! I 
 know Greenway Court by heart I" 
 
 And the Captain, having first piled some more wood upon 
 the fire, stretched himself comfortably in tbe leathern chair, 
 md closed his eyee. 
 
THE MASTER OF GKEENWAJ COTJBT, 
 
 23 
 
 m 
 
 HOW CAPTAIN WAGNER BECAME UNEASY IN HIS SLEEP. 
 
 N five minutes the Borderer was snoring with tin 
 unction which brought a smile to the faces of his 
 companions. He had c3osed his eyes with the 
 words, " Take care, my dear frieDds, I hear very 
 well in my sleep — therefore don't speak ill of me;" but this 
 seemed quite an idle boast. The Captain presented the ap- 
 pearance of a frontier Goliath, worn out by fatigue, or som- 
 niferous from the extent of his last meal. 
 
 "Come, Bertha," said Mr. Argal, rising, "we must set 
 out very early, and it would be advisable to retire, I think. 
 I see old John at the door waiting for us." 
 
 " Yes, sir — when you're ready, sir — everything right, sir/ 
 came respectfully from the door, which opened on a flight 
 of stairs, " right hand for the gentlemen — the other room is 
 ready for Miss Argal." 
 
 "Please send the maid to show me the way," said the 
 young lady, with a smile, " good-night, father, I will follow 
 in a momenV 
 
 The old gentleman nodded, and kissing her on the fore- 
 head, went out, followed by George. 
 Falconbridge rose. 
 
 " Stay and entertain me for a moment," she said, smiling 
 " until my maid comes." 
 
 He sat down quickly: so quickly that any one would have 
 understood from the movement, how gladly he complied 
 with the request. 
 
 The door closed upon Mr. Argal and George. Them 
 
24 
 
 FAIRFAX; OR, 
 
 commenced a conversation, at first upon indifferent subject* 
 in the ordinary key, but gradually becoming more confiden- 
 tial, if the word may be used, and carried on in lower tones. 
 To a curious observer, the spectacle would have possessed 
 a profound and absorbing interest — for it was that of a wo- 
 man of dazzling beauty, and immense finesse, marshalling ail 
 her dangerous powers against the heart of a frank anJ 
 truthful gentleman, into whose breast the shadow of sus~ 
 picion never had for a moment entered. The glances which 
 she cast upon him were dazzling, electric ; he felt his cheeks 
 flush, and his pulses throb. 
 
 " Then you do not think me unmaidenly ?" came in a low 
 murmur from the crimson lips. 
 
 " Because you express your satisfaction at my coming ?" 
 said Falconbridge; "how can you ask such a question?" 
 
 "I feared you might; I am so unfortunate, in never con- 
 cealing what I feel. Frankly, then, I hope you will come 
 and see me — we are almost buried in the woods." 
 
 " I surely shall. I am too happy to be able to contribute 
 to your amusement." 
 
 "No, do not say my amusement" 
 
 She stopped, blushing deeply. 
 
 " Do not look at me," she murmured, turning away, " I 
 am so foolish " 
 
 " Your room is ready, miss," said the maid, opening tho 
 door. 
 
 " Wait for me in the chamber," was Miss Argal's reply. 
 "I will come up in a moment. It is very early, is it not ?" 
 she added, turning with a languishing smile to Falcon- 
 bridge, as the maid disappeared. 
 
 "Very," he replied, " and if you'll not regard me as pre- 
 sumptuous, I will say that I have little desire to exchange 
 your society for my own thoughts or dreams." 
 
 "Of what do you dream?" she said, smiling archly, and 
 throwing at him one of those fascinating glances whiob 
 possessed such a singular attraction. 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 26 
 
 " Oh ! of many things. Of my lowland home -of the 
 fitrange land to which I go, for I have come to see about 
 some property in the wilderness which I am entitled to, bj 
 * grant from Lord Fairfax." 
 
 " Are your dreams never filled with brighter images ?" 
 
 " With brighter images ? Ah ! you mean with the forma 
 of ladies fair!" he laughed; "no, no, I have never loved." 
 
 " Then your heart is cold ?" 
 
 " Oh, no 1 I think 'tis a warm one." 
 
 The young lady sighed deeply. 
 
 " Why do you sigh so ?" he asked. 
 
 She played with the ribbon around her waist, and looked 
 in silence at the floor. 
 
 " Only my foolish thoughts," she murmured ; " I thought 
 — what a treasure it would be to me — a heart that had 
 never loved " 
 
 As she spoke she suffered the hand which played with the 
 ribbon to fall beside her. The hand of Falconbridge was 
 hanging down, and the two came in collision. Mastered by 
 a sudden and wild impulse, and forgetting every rule of 
 etiquette, he imprisoned the snowy hand in his own, and 
 raised it to his Hps. The young lady blushed, but did not 
 withdraw it. For an instant the eyes of the two persons 
 met and exchanged a long, and absorbing look : — the young 
 man's were filled with an ardent admiration, the young 
 lady's with a languishing sweetness. 
 
 "I must go now," she murmured, slowly withdrawing her 
 . hand. " Good-night !" 
 
 And with a last look, she opened the door just as the 
 maid placed her hand on the knob. Had the young lady 
 heard her step descending the stairs? 
 
 Falconbridge sat down, and leaning his head upon his 
 hand, gazed into the dying fire. Nothing disturbed the 
 silence but the heavy breathing of the soldier, who, stretched 
 in his great leathern chair, had never once moved during 
 the colloquy. 
 
 S 
 
26 
 
 FAIKFAX; OB, 
 
 " Strange I" murmured Faloonbridge ; " strange young girl ! 
 I scarcely fathom her character, or understand her singula/ 
 demeanor. They tell me that I have sound intelligence, 
 that I read men — but, pshaw ! I am quite at sea with this 
 young girl. What a dazzling, superb beauty ! Well, well— 
 this is folly!" 
 
 And he gazed again in silence into the fire. For mors 
 than half an hour he remained thus motionless — reflecting. 
 Then turning his head, with a deep sigh, and a wistful smile 
 he gazed at the form of the sleeping giant in the leathern 
 chair. 
 
 " A brave man, and with a warm, strong heart under all 
 that roughness, I see plainly I" he murmured. " How great 
 a contrast to this beautiful young creature, does he present ! 
 A strange world — yes, very strange — strangest of all that I 
 am here !" 
 
 And he leaned back in his chair, and smiled. The dying 
 fire-light lit up his youthful face, rich costume, and brilliant 
 eyes, making him resemble some picture of the Middle Age. 
 He remained thus, leaning back for a few moments, and 
 then rose. 
 
 "Well, well," he said, "all this will have its course 
 — but I soon pass — enough for one day." 
 
 And saluting the sleeping soldier with the smiling words, 
 " Happy dreams, companion !" he left the room, and retired 
 to his chamber. 
 
 No sooner had the door closed than the eyes of Captain 
 Wagner slowly opened, and he looked in the direction of 
 the door, muttering. Then his heavy moustache curled 
 slowly toward his ears, and under the mass appeared his 
 large, sharp teeth. He sat up and looked at the firo. 
 
 "Same people would say that I have done what is dis- 
 honest and unsoldierly," he muttered, kicking the brands of 
 the fire together, " let 'em ! I was asleep and I woke," he 
 added, gloomily. " I believe the sound of that voice woke 
 
THE MASTEB OF GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 27 
 
 His eyes were raised toward the ceiling, and a stranga 
 expression filled them, making them burn under their 
 shaggy brows. 
 
 " Good, good ! it's well I'm here," he muttered, " and Th 
 act a comrade's part by him, or the devil take it — but not 
 too much ! A noble fellow ! He shall not be tricked 1" 
 
 The Captain muttered something more to himself; and 
 then stopping suddenly, listened. 
 
 " There, I am at my folly again," he growled. " I'm a 
 dog and can't sleep — I am dreaming!" 
 
 But in spite of this he rose, and went to the front win- 
 dow. It was secured by the heavy shutter, through which 
 a streak of moonlight was visible. 
 
 The Borderer seemed uneasy; he walked to the other 
 window; stooped down, and for an instant seemed almost 
 to be smelling at it: and this idea appeared to cross his 
 mind, for he laughed, and returned to his place before the 
 fire. 
 
 "Ima fool," he said, "but I swear I felt uneasy: I must 
 decidedly get over this! Fm never at rest — why can't I 
 sleep?" 
 
 The fire began to burn clearly again, and give out a 
 pleasing warmth. The Borderer held his hands over the 
 blaze for a moment, then lay back in his chair; and placing 
 his huge boots upon the broad-topped andirons, began to 
 snore almost immediately. 
 
 The fire caught a fresh stick and licked it merrily, and 
 blazed aloft, but the Borderer slept on in spite of the full 
 light it poured upon him. 
 
38 
 
 FAIRFAX . OSL 
 
 IV. 
 
 HOW CAPTAIN LONGKN1FE SAW WITHOUT SEEING, AND WHAi 
 FOLLOWED. 
 
 HE long hours of the night passed on, and no 
 sound was heard throughout the slumbering 
 mansion but the subdued tick of an old clock in 
 the passage, and the heavy breathing of the sol- 
 dier. At times he would stir in his sleep, and the hea^y 
 sabre would rattle against the floor; but this noise would 
 soon shudcter and die away in the remote apartments, and 
 again all would be silent. 
 
 Without, the moonlight slept upon the wild and solemn 
 scene of forest and prairie, and nothing disturbed the quiet 
 of the chill October night, but the cry of wild birds, or the 
 stealthy footsteps of the mysterious inhabitants of the forest, 
 abroad now, while their enemies were sleeping. At times, 
 the chill wind would sweep over the tall prairie, and a sob- 
 bing sound would rise, then die away; and over all poured 
 the solemn moonlight, which seemed to brood upon the 
 wild scene like a dream. 
 
 A piercing eye, however, might have descried more than 
 one flitting form under the lofty forest; an acute ear have 
 discerned sounds which belonged neither to the bear, the 
 panther, nor the wind. Other eyes than those of wild beasts 
 were directed toward the silent mansion, which raised its 
 walls thus on the outskirts of civilization, disputing the 
 sovereignty of the great woods : — and those burning glances 
 were measuring its strength and weakness, the capacity of 
 its inmates for a mortal struggle. 
 
 The huge Borderer breathed heavily in his chair, and 
 resembled some gigantic statue come down from its pedes- 
 tal, and taking its rest while mortals slept. From time tc 
 
•THE MASfER OP GREEN WAY COURT. 
 
 29 
 
 time the flitting and bubbling fire would burn out brightly 
 and reveal the recumbent figure in its full proportions: — but 
 it already flickered and promised soon to die away. The 
 cool air already began to invade the apartment, and the sol- 
 dier turned uneasily. 
 
 At the same moment, the window opening into the pas- 
 sage stealthily creaked, and suddenly a thread of moonlight 
 silvered the floor. 
 
 Then the shutter was opened still more, the window 
 cautiously raised, and a head appeared at the aperture. It 
 was the head of an Indian boy, with long, straight, black 
 hair, sparkling eyes, and swarthy cheeks. 
 
 The head remained perfectly motionless for about five 
 minutes; only the restless and ever-moving eyes roved from 
 side to side. 
 
 At the end of this time the window was wholly raised — 
 the Indian drew his body up, and falling upon his feet noise- 
 lessly, stood within the house. 
 
 Motionless as before, he reconnoitered. The door of tlie 
 great room in which the Borderer slept, was half open, and 
 creeping stealthily toward it, the Indian looked in. At 
 sight of the warlike sleeper, he recoiled two paces, and 
 looked behind him fearfully, in order to be sure that the 
 means of escape remained. The window remained up; and 
 the sight of the opening seemed to reassure the spy. 
 
 He again approached the door — opened it a few inches 
 wider, and looked curiously in, as though to take note of 
 any other persons in the apartment. His eye then dwelt 
 upon Captain "Wagner, and he placed his hand upon his 
 girdle, from which hung a natchet. 
 
 As he did so, the Borderer opened his eyes, and looked 
 him full in the face 
 
 The Indian, with one stealthy bound arrived at the win- 
 dow, and was about to pass through, when he suddenly 
 checked himself, No noise had come from the sleeper, 
 hence he had not really waked; doubtless it was a presenti- 
 
30 
 
 FAIRFAX- OR, 
 
 ment, the eye fixed upon his face which had waked him, ot 
 rather disturbed him in his sleep. 
 
 The dull eye of the Indian boy glittered, and he dre-a 
 back into the deep shadow, out of the gleam of the fire. 
 With a muttered " ough !" he touched the forefinger of his 
 left hand with that of his right, apparently counting. 
 
 Then his roving eye turned on all sides, and he looked up 
 the short, steep stairs : — his foot rested on the first step. The 
 step was of firm oak and did not creak. The Indian 
 mounted another step, and so, stealthily, and pausing each 
 moment to listen, arrived at the top. 
 
 His first movement was to creep to the window opening 
 uporx the roof — one of the dormer windows, of which we 
 have spoken — and raise it. From the roof of the house to 
 that of the long porch, was but a step. Thence he could 
 easily glide down. 
 
 Two or three dusky forms appeared for a moment in the 
 moonlight, and then vanished beneath the solemn trees of 
 the forest. 
 
 The spy placed his hand upon the knob of Miss Argal's 
 door, and slowly and noiselessly turned it. The door 
 opened without sound. 
 
 The moonlight streamed full upon the bed, but threw the 
 features of the sleeper into shadow. It was evidently the 
 aim of the Indian, however, to ascertain the numerical 
 strength in men, of the house : and he crept stealthily, like 
 a young panther, toward the bed. 
 
 Before he could bend down close enough to see, how- 
 ever; before his black eye and hot breath had approached 
 Iier cheek, the young girl started up, and uttered a pierc- 
 ing shriek, which rang through the house like a cry of 
 death 
 
 The Indian seized his hatchet, and catching her by the 
 wrist, endeavored to raise the weapon and strike her. It 
 had become twisted in his belt, and before he sould extri- 
 
THE MASTEK OF Q BEEN WAY COURT. 31 
 
 eate it, a noise in the opposite room caught his quick ear, 
 and he arrived by a single leap at the window. 
 
 At the same moment, the opposite door was thrown 
 violently open, and Falconbridge came forth quickly, fully 
 dressed, and hurried toward the room. 
 
 The young girl, who had risen in her night-robe, ran to- 
 ward him, threw her arms round him, and sobbing, "Oh. 
 father ! father !" buried her head in his bosom. 
 
 All had taken place in a moment; but that had been time 
 enough for the soldier to rouse himself. 
 
 He now appeared at the bottom of the steps, bearing in 
 his hand a flaming torch, from the fire; and mounted with 
 a bound which shook the flooring. 
 
 " What's this ? What's this '? Speak !" he cried. 
 
 The lady clung closer to Falconbridge, burying her face 
 more deeply in his bosom. 
 
 " Oh, father ! father V was all which she uttered. 
 
 Mr. Argal and George appeared at the door half dressed 
 and uttering wondering exclamations. 
 
 " How, daughter ? — what ? how ? — the meaning of this 
 extraordinary scene ? and that noise ?" 
 
 " I don't know what it means," said Captain Wagner, with 
 a sort of ironical gloom, "but the devil eat me, if I ever saw 
 anything as striking as that picture in all my life before. 
 
 And the Borderer, with a curl of his moustache, extended 
 the huge arm bearing the torch, toward Falconbridge and 
 the lady. 
 
 "Most extraordinary 1" cried the bewildered gentleman; 
 " why, Bertha, something has frightened you 1 Look up ! 
 are you aware, daughter " 
 
 The young girl raised her head, and started, or pretended 
 to start, violently at sight of Falconbridge. No one observed 
 the sarcastic curl of the Captain's lip. 
 
 " Oh, father !" she cried, hastily retreating into her room, 
 and drawing her drapery quickly around her soldiers, " Oh, 
 It was so dreadful I" 
 
82 
 
 FAIRFAX OR, 
 
 " What !— dreadful?" 
 
 " Oh, yes sir — an Indian came to my bedside, an I aaugh 
 my wrist, and tried to kill me — oh, pir ?" 
 
 And the young girl was heard falling into a chair, ancj 
 sobbing faintly. 
 
 "An Indian in your room? you are dreaming, daughter!" 
 
 "No, sir!" said Captain Wagner, gloomily, "your daugh- 
 ter did not dream it ! — in my sleep I dreamed, I thought — 
 wretched animal that I am, to lie there like a hog — but 
 see !" 
 
 And stooping quickly, the Borderer pounced upon a por- 
 cupine quill. 
 
 "Here!" he said, "here is the proof! This is from an 
 Injun moccasin ! And that window ! Friends, 1 for one am 
 no fool!" 
 
 And the Captain hurled his torch tipon the floor, and 
 trod upon it with his iron heel. 
 
 "To your tree!" he cried, "Injuns!" 
 
 At the same instant a flight of arrows whistled through 
 the air, and passing within a few inches of the soldier's 
 head, buried themselves, quivering in the beam of the stair- 
 case. 
 
 "Bah! no rifles!" cried the Captain. "But they're on 
 us I" he cried, arriving at the bottom of the stairs by a sin- 
 gle leap, " to arms !" 
 
 As he spoke, a terrific war-whoop rang through the forest, 
 and a dozen Indians darted from the shadow, and threw 
 themselves upon the house. 
 
 Captain Wagner reached the door just as it yielded to the 
 powerful pressure of the assailants. 
 
 Having no time to draw his sword, the gigantic Borderer 
 seized one of the carved chairs, and whirling it like a straw 
 around his head, struck the foremost Indian a blow so ter 
 rible, that it literally drove him through the crowd behind 
 him, maimed and bloody. 
 
 Set on fire by the sight of blood, and devoured with his old 
 
THE MASTEB OF GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 88 
 
 fury of battle, the Borderer, without waiting for his com 
 pauions, rushed into the midst of the assailants, whirling 
 his broken weapon around his head, and bearing all before 
 him. 
 
 The Indians endeavored in vain to strike him — his gigan- 
 tic stature and sweep of arm bore them down: — they uncon- 
 sciously drew back. 
 
 The movement brought the Borderer into the moonlight, 
 which streamed full upon his face and person. 
 
 The Indians uttered a yell of rage and fear. 
 
 "Longknife!" burst from the crowd, and they retreated 
 before the soldier with almost superstitious awe. 
 
 As they did so, Falconbridge, Mr. Argal and George 
 rushed from the house, to the Captain's succor, and behind 
 them appeared the affrighted domestics with pale feces, and 
 uttering exclamations. 
 
 The Indians, spite of their numbers, lost heart — retreated 
 toward the forest — and with cries of rage dived into its 
 gloomy depths, and fled, followed by the chance-aimed balls 
 of their enemies. 
 
 Captain Wagner drew back, bending down, panting, and 
 knitting his brows. 
 
 "I counsel a return to the house, friends !" he said 
 "you'll lose nothing; all's done!" 
 
 And he turned toward the dour. Directly in his path lay 
 Ihe Indian he had struck upon the head — stunned, bleeding, 
 and insensible. 
 
 "Take the black devil in; he's not dead!" said the sol- 
 dier to the servants, " and secure every window !" 
 
 The Indian was borne into the house; every one followed, 
 and doors and windows were secured. 
 
 " A very pretty little scrimmage," said the soldier, curling 
 his huge moustache and throwing some sticks upon the fire, 
 " ough! you copper colored devil!" 
 
 And he pushed the body of the Indian with his foot. 
 
 The Captain looked at him more closely. 
 2* 
 
84 
 
 FAIRFAX ; OR, 
 
 " Playing dead," he said, contemptuously. 
 
 "Oh no ! he's dead," said George, "look 1 that brand has 
 rolled against his foot I" 
 
 "Bah! that's all you know, master George," said the 
 Captain. 
 
 And bending over the Indian, the soldier kicked away the 
 brand, and said "speak !" 
 
 The Indian remained motionless. 
 
 "Well if you're dead, my friend, I'll have your scalp V 
 
 And the Captain seized the Indian violently by the lock oJ 
 hair upon the top of his head. 
 
 The eyes opened and he made a violent, though feeble 
 effort to spring up. In an instant the Borderer was upon 
 his breast and his hands were securely tied. 
 
 " Now speak, you copper-colored devil, or you are a dead 
 man ! Speak in the Delaware 1 I know you, and under- 
 stand your lingo I" 
 
 And bending down, the Borderer uttered some words in 
 the tongue of the Delaware. 
 
 It was some time before the soldier could extract anything 
 from the Indian. At last he muttered a few words. 
 
 The Captain rose satisfied. 
 
 " Not a regular inroad," he said, " only a wandering par- 
 ty. I gathered that from the lies he tells me. Now my 
 friends be good enough to put this worthy in the cellar and 
 double lock the door, first tying his hands securely. My 
 part is over, and I'll sleep." 
 
 His direction was obeyed, and very soon the Indian cap- 
 tive was safe in the vault beneath, where Lord Fairfax kept 
 his liquors. 
 
 No one retired again. By common consent the affrighted 
 domestics huddled together in one corner of the apartment 
 —and the visitors arranged easy-chairs in the most conven- 
 ient manner for sleeping. Soon every one sank into un- 
 easy slumber — except Captain Wagner. That worthy's re- 
 pose, in his great chair before the fire, was as deep as before 
 
TEE MASTER OF GREENWAY COT7BT. 
 
 From time tc time, he would growl and grunt it is true; but 
 this was habitual with him. 
 
 There were two other exceptions to the above statement. 
 Falconbridge and Miss Argal slept neither easily nor un* 
 easily. They conversed in a low tone in one corner of the 
 room : — when the first rays of dawn entered the apartment, 
 Ihey were still conversing in the same low murmurs. 
 
86 
 
 FAIRFAX ; OR, 
 
 V. 
 
 THE ESCAPE. 
 
 |HE morning brought light and cheerfulness 
 
 , The sleepers aroused themselves; Miss Argai re- 
 I tired for a time, to make her toilet, and soon all 
 had re-assembled in the large apartment where a 
 
 plentiful breakfast was smoking upon the hospitable board. 
 
 " Suppose we have the Injun rascal up," said Captain 
 Wagner. " I think the sight of his copper-colored mug will 
 give me a better appetite." 
 
 And every one acquiescing in this suggestion, the Border- 
 er directed, several of the servants to lead up the prisoner. 
 They promptly left the apartment^ and Wagner turned tc 
 Falconbridge. 
 
 " Do you know, my dear comrade," he said, " that I think 
 ycu are the pearl of gallants ?" 
 
 " Pray, how ?" asked the young man, smiling. 
 
 " Why, you came so promptly to Miss Argal's assistance 
 last night, that you shamed us all, companion." 
 
 Falconbridge smiled again, and said : 
 
 " I deserve no praise, Captain. I had not retired. I was 
 sitting at the window thinking, as I often do — a bad habit I 
 confess — when Miss Argal screamed. To go to her assist- 
 ance was surely natural." 
 
 "Dooms natural!" said the Captain, pushing up his 
 black moustache ; " and Miss Bertha needed you." 
 
 " I — thought — it was — father," replied the young lady col- 
 oring. 
 
 " Good, good I We're not expected to see in the dark," 
 was the Borderer's sardonic answer ; ct and when Injuns ar# 
 
THE MASTER OF GKEENWAT OOUBT. 
 
 37 
 
 about, a woman may run into the arms of the first fighter 
 she sees — faith, 'twas a pretty picture !" 
 
 A suppressed flash of the young lady's eye seemed to ir ■ 
 dicate that she discovered in these words something more 
 than they expressed : but otherwise she betrayed no emo- 
 tion. 
 
 " Well, well," added the Borderer, " let us think of the 
 rascal we caught. I'm mistaken if we don't get out of him 
 the real meaning of this little scrimmage in the dark — which 
 I think was a wandering party only, that is safe a score oi 
 miles away by now in the Southwest Mountains." 
 
 Old John appeared at the door, as the words were uttered 
 —his face elongated, his eyes full of meaning. 
 
 " "Where's the copper-colored rattle-snake — the serpent T 
 cried Wagner. 
 
 "Gone, sir! clean gone!" said the old body servant, hold- 
 ing up both hands. 
 
 Captain Wagner rose with sudden energy, and hastened 
 to the cellar, followed by his companions. 
 
 " Gone, as I'm a man !" he cried, twisting his moustache. 
 " Look ! Falconbridge, he got through there, the snake I" 
 
 And the speaker pointed to a low window from which two 
 rusty iron bars had been wrested by main force. 
 
 " He managed to get his hands loose, and by this time is 
 at the end of the world. I'm a hog not to see better to his 
 tying up!" 
 
 And having thus unburdened his mind, the Captain slowly 
 retired from the cellar, shaking his head, and returned to the 
 breakfast-room. The sight of the smoking meal seemed to 
 restore his equanimity ; and his huge nostrils evidently ex- 
 perienced the utmost pleasure in snuffing up the savory 
 odor of the rich broils and hashes. 
 
 "Faith I something yet remains I" was the philosophic re 
 mark of the worthy ; " life is not gloomy when a man can 
 eat as I am going to. Come friends, let us get to work I" 
 
 And first regaling himself with a huge gulp from the pun- 
 
88 
 
 FAIRFAX ; OB, 
 
 gent " dram * which old John had concocted, the Borderer 
 applied himself with energy to the business before him. It 
 was a spectacle full of interest to see the piles of edibles dis- 
 appear before him. Not until almost everything had van- 
 ished did the Captain lean back in his chair, like a son of 
 Anak, twist his moustache, and open his lips for the pur- 
 pose of conversation. 
 
 The movements of the entire party were discussed, and 
 very soon every one had determined upon his plans of the 
 day. There was not the least danger of any attack from the 
 Indians, said the Captain, in broad day, out of the woods : 
 but his intention was to scour the surrounding country, and 
 pick up every detail George declared he would go with 
 him. 
 
 "And I," said Falconbridge, "shall accompany Miss 
 Argal as far as her home, if she will permit me." 
 
 " I shall be very glad," said the young lady, looking at him 
 with her strangely fascinating glance. Then casting down 
 her eyes, she added, " but pray do not let me inconvenience 
 you." 
 
 " 'Tis none, I assure you," he replied. " Captain Wagner 
 has spoken to me of a certain ' Van Doring's Ordinary ' in 
 the same direction, and here I purpose stopping until I ar- 
 range some business with my Lord Fairfax." 
 
 With these words, Falconbridge offered his hand to the 
 young lady to assist her in mounting her horse, which stood 
 ready at the steps. The young girl's hand was ungloved 
 like his own, and — could he be mistaken? — did the softj 
 slender fingers press and cling to his own, as if she would 
 retain the hand of the youth ? His eyes filled with sudden 
 light, and mounting his glossy white tihroughbred, he can- 
 tered off joyfully by the side of the young lady Mr Arga) 
 following more leisurely upon his cob. 
 
 " What a noble face !" said George, looking aftej them 
 " Do you know, Captain, that I can't help loving hin ** 
 
 "Who? Falconbridge?" 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 89 
 
 M Yes — though I've known him less than a day." 
 
 " Well, you're right. 'Tis as fine a head as ever I Baw on 
 human shoulders. There's only one fault I can see in it — 
 not enough of gray hairs." 
 
 " Gray hairs P 
 
 " Yes. my young friend ; he's too grand and true and un- 
 suspecting. All that won't answer in this miserable world, 
 that's full of snakes, Injuns, rascals, and deception. Don't 
 ask me what I mean — I never mean anything. Let us rath- 
 er take a drink of this fine October air, that is better by far 
 than twenty year oid Jamaica, or I'm a dandy P 
 
 And the Borderer inhaled the breezy atmosphere, drink 
 ing in life at every pore His eye wandered over the great 
 landscape of prairie, forest, mountain, and river, variegated 
 by the shadows of vast floating clouds ; and his whole face 
 glowed with pleasure. 
 
 "His lordship's got a splendid country here, friend 
 George," he said : " I envy him the look he's taking at it 
 now." 
 
 "Lord Fairfax?" 
 
 "Yes, he's in the mountains yonder, hinting, as the wortny 
 John says — is this good Baron of Cameron, and Earl of 
 Fairfax. When we shall see him, the devil only knows. He's 
 a perfect Nimrod, a wild Injun on the trail of game, a real 
 iron fellow, or I'm a dandy. I expect him back at Christmas 
 —not before!" 
 
 A sonorous neigh arrested the Captain's remarks, and twu 
 servants led up " Injunhater " and George's sorrel. They 
 were soon in the saddle, and the Borderer paus*^. only to 
 give old John his parting injunctions. 
 
 " Tell my Lord Fairfax, if he comes back before dinner, 
 that I'm coming too — Injuns and wild beasts to the contrary 
 notwithstanding. Also friend George, who rides with me. 
 And hark you, John, have up some of that old Jamaica that we 
 know about — and one of the old hams, a round of beef, some 
 
AO 
 
 FAIRFAX; OB, 
 
 fCTl* t and other trifles. You know I'm one of the iamily — 
 good day, my friend." 
 
 And leans g old John bowing hospitably and respectfully, 
 the companions set forward. 
 
 "We shall rvot p-ccompany them, as nothing in the shape oi 
 an adventure be5<jll them. After a wide circuit around the 
 Greenway Court domain, they came to the cenclxujion that 
 the wandering party of Indians had hastily nsJ Awn the re- 
 gion into the western mountains. They f c°-or x ngly re- 
 turned to Greenway to dinner, and rast. The Kxk Had ' ©i 
 made I; 3 appearance — nor bM> FMx^'^w. 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 41 
 
 VL 
 
 OAPTAIT LONGKNTFe's PBIVATE MATTERS. 
 
 N the next morning, Captain "Wagner and Georga 
 were again in the saddle — but this time they had 
 determined to take different routes. The young 
 man wished to explore the wonders of the prai- 
 rie toward the South ; the Borderer's design was to visit 
 his friends at the Ordinary which Falconbridge had selected 
 for a stopping-place. 
 
 " I'll go swill some Jamaica with Van Doring," said the 
 
 worthy Captain, " and you, George ? toward the Fort 
 
 Mountain V 
 
 " Yes ! It seems to draw me, it is so beautiful I" 
 
 " Good ! how your eyes do sparkle ! Youth ! youth 1 what 
 
 6 fine thing it is : like a fresh horse with a full feed ! But 
 
 look out for the Injuns." 
 "I'm not afraid." 
 
 " I see that plainly, and you've got a proud-looking head 
 there, George, my son. Don't let 'em scalp you. I assure 
 you, on my honor, it will ruin your appearance for life." 
 
 And saluting with his hand, the gigantic warrior set for- 
 ward on His heavy black charger toward Van Doring's. 
 
 The Ordinary was but a few miles from Green way, and th<j 
 partisan, advancing rapidly through the tall grass of the 
 prairie, and beneath the drooping boughs of the forest, waa 
 not long in reaching his destination. 
 
 It was one of those large, oddly-fashioned taverns which 
 are still found at Virginia cross roads. This one was th« 
 
*2 
 
 Fairfax ; ob, 
 
 half-way house, so to speak, between the Lowland and th6 
 Frontier. It was constructed of hewn logs, the interstices of 
 which were filled with rough plaster ; in front extended a 
 long rude porch ; before the door was a horse rack and 
 drinking trough. 
 
 As Captain Wagner drew near he perceived standing at 
 the door a sort of covered wagon, which seemed to have ar- 
 rived but a few moments before. He was looking at it care- 
 lessly, when all at once Falconbridge issued from the tavern, 
 and courteously offered his hand to a buxom dame who waa 
 on the point of getting out of the vehicle. 
 
 "La! thank you, sir," said a simpering and complaisant 
 voice, which made Captain Wagner suddenly start : but this 
 start was of so ambiguous a character that it was not plain 
 whether the soldier's emotion sprang from surprise, pleasure, 
 or dissatisfaction. But immediately the Captain threw himself 
 from Injim hater, whose bridle a stable boy received ; and 
 before the lady, with Falconbridge's assistance in front, and 
 that of a travelling companion behind, could emerge from 
 the vehicle, the gallant Captain had received into his own 
 the hand yet unappropriated, and kissed it with chivairic 
 courtesy and devout respect. 
 
 Falconbridge turned his head and saw his companion. 
 
 " Good-morrow, Captain," he said with a smile. 
 
 The buxom lady, finding her hand in contact with a 
 bearded lip, and pressed by palms of martial strength, ut- 
 tered a little affected cry and raised her modestly down- 
 cast eyes. 
 
 " Captain Wagner!" she said, with an exhibition of great 
 surprise: "Captain Wagner!" 
 
 "At your service a thousand times, madam," said tho 
 Borderer, "now and ever, or may the devil — hum ! How do 
 I find you here, madam ?" 
 
 The portly dame descended from her vehicle, smiling or 
 the Captain and the Stranger, and sending backward a Par« 
 thian glance at every moment to her companion who had 
 
THE MASTER OF GBEENWAt COCET 
 
 43 
 
 not yet descended. Her eyes were well adapted to this 
 species of employment, as they were bright and cheerful, and 
 her whole face was equally good-humored. 
 
 She was, or seemed to be, about thirty-five, and was clad 
 in a fashion rather more gaudy than tasteful. 
 
 Her companion was a little dried-up Frenchman, dressed 
 in a worn-out Court suit of the fashion of the time, and hav 
 ing on his head a cocked hat. He seemed to be in an agonj 
 of perplexity whether to drop the reins, a band-box and i 
 shawl wjjich he held in his right hand, or an old black violii 
 which he carried carefully in his left. 
 
 The lady ran forward with quite girlish vivacity to greet 
 an old fat German, who at the moment emerged from 
 the Ordinary ; and then with a shower of backward glances 
 more bright than ever, which glances were directed towards 
 Captain Wagner and his companion, entered the tavern, 
 closely followed by her shawl-carrying, much perplexed 
 French body-guard. Having reached the landlord's side, 
 she clasped the old German so tightly that he found it ut- 
 terly impossible to greet "Wagner in any other manner than 
 with the two sonorous words — "Well, Gaptain!" 
 
 The Captain stood for a moment looking after her, with 
 an expression of amazement seldom seen upon his martial 
 features. 
 
 For once in his life he seemed to be taken completely by 
 surprise ; and hesitated before he followed the enemy. 
 
 " Who would have dreamed it \" he said, pushing up his 
 shaggy moustache; "she was Miss—beautiful Miss — Van 
 Doring before espousing the lamented Butterton down yon- 
 der!" 
 
 And a sort of chuckle shook the stalwart breast of the 
 Borderer. 
 
 "Well, well! Luck has declared for niel" he muttered 
 "I'm losing time." 
 " Lose a moment more with me, Captain," said Falcon- 
 
FAIRFAX J OR, 
 
 bridge ; and laying his hand upon the Borderer's shouldei 
 
 he added, " What a noble morning 1" 
 
 The Borderer shook the hand of the young man cordially, 
 and said : 
 
 " Glorious ! comrade : really amazing is this splendid 
 morning — and faith! on my word ! I think you suit it I" 
 ''I?— how is that?" 
 
 " Why, you are as bright and jolly as the sunshine." 
 Falconbridge laughed, stretched himself, and yawned. 
 " I am fresh enough," he replied, " and you seem not at all 
 fatigued." 
 
 " Fatigued! I believe you, comrade. A pretty thing for 
 an old dog like myself, that has grown to the saddle, — whose 
 legs are getting crooked, faith ! on that account — to talk 
 about fatigue ! But let us dismiss the subject of legs. You 
 are stopping here ?" 
 
 " Yes, till I see Lord Fairfax." 
 
 " Well, you'll have a pleasant lady guest." 
 
 " This lady ? What is her name ?" 
 
 The Captain looked cunning, and hesitated before answer- 
 ing this query. 
 
 " Come," added Falconbridge, " am I not to know who the 
 lady is — her simple name ?" 
 
 " I doubt whether it would be politic for me to tell you, 
 comrade," said the Captain, shaking his head. 
 
 Falconbridge laughed. 
 
 "Politic? How so?" 
 
 " I would have necessarily to enlarge upon her character, 
 her loveliness, her advantages, as the miserable cant is — her 
 desirabilities : her thousand claims to regard, respect and 
 admiration !" 
 
 " Ah ?" laughed the young man ; " well, why not ?" 
 
 The Captain shook his head. 
 
 " You're a dooms good looking fellow," he said. 
 
 "Oh!"— 
 
 " The truth, comrade ; and if you add to this the fact thai 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COtJRT. 
 
 45 
 
 fou seem to have much time on your hands at present — by 
 which I mean that your business does not seem pressing— - 
 the motive for my caution will be plain." 
 " The motive, eh?" 
 
 " You might fall in love with this fair widow Butfrerton-- 
 my pleasant acquaintance down in the town of Belhaven, 
 which I'm told they are going to dub Alexandria, where I 
 came from. See, now, I've let the whole thing slip out." 
 
 And Captain Wagner pretended to regard his conduct 
 with supreme contempt. Falconbridge only laughed and 
 said • 
 
 " I believe you are in love, eh, Captain ? Well, I wish you 
 good luck." 
 His companion groaned. 
 
 " There's no such thing for me, comrade. I'm defeated, 
 repulsed, driven off ignominiously !" 
 
 " You have paid your addresses to the fair widow and 
 failed?" 
 
 " Something like it. I really believe that you have guessed 
 the state of things to a hair. I thought from the first, Fal- 
 conbridge, that you were a man of discrimination." 
 
 " And this is really so ?" laughed the young man, amused 
 by the Borderer's lugubrious expression ; you have really 
 proposed and been discarded ?" 
 
 " Precisely, my friend, precisely : you have guessed 
 rightly. Yes ! I was overcome, subjugated, compelled to lay 
 down my -arms : ignominiously, miserably, — I, who have 
 lived in the midst of battles, who have heard the cohorns 
 roaring from year's end to year's end — the muskets rattling 
 here, on the border, everywhere ; I who have married twice, 
 and each time paragons of women ! I thought I knew the 
 sex tolerably well, and I was mistaken. Vain thought for 
 any man to imagine he has found the key of woman ! Open 
 one lock, another, then another, the next one baffles all your 
 skill, defies all your cunning — which word I use in its ancient 
 and commendable sense — laughs at all your exertions, if, in- 
 
4* 
 
 .FAIRFAX ; Oft, 
 
 deed, locks ever latigli. And now I was that benighted in- 
 dividual ; I thought I knew their wards, and springs, and 
 windings, and turnings : I was mistaken ; and here I am a 
 mortified and humbled man, or if not that, a beaten man at 
 least, or may the — hum ! no swearing !" 
 
 " Come, Captain," replied Falconbridge, who with difficul- 
 ty refrained from laughing, so melancholy were the tones of 
 the soldier's voice, "better luck next time! You have a fine 
 opportunity to make up your losses." 
 
 " I find I have, indeed." 
 
 " Avail yourself of it." 
 
 " I will," said the Borderer, with great cheerfulness. 
 
 " As to finding a rival in me ; you need not have any fears 
 on that point, Captain," said Falconbridge, laughing. "Tin 
 on the wing — I soon pass. In a month I will not only be 
 gone, but forgotten." 
 
 "Faith! no." 
 
 "No, what?" 
 
 "You'll not be forgotten. For 111 remember you, com- 
 rade, as one of the most gallant-looking fellows I ever 
 knew." 
 
 Falconbridge laughed again and held out his hand. 
 
 " You are determined to make me a partisan of yours, 
 Captain," he said. - 
 
 " No, not at all ! I like you, my dear comrade, and I can't 
 conceal my thought. If I'm angry I growl ; if I'm pleased 
 I laugh — I conceal nothing because I can't, faith ! No : don't 
 fear Captain Longknife, who, whatever may be his faults — 
 and he has a few — is not the man to flatter. If you fear any- 
 body, let it be the man or the woman who smiles on you, and 
 holds out a friendly hand, while the other is under his or 
 ber cloak, clutching the knife that will stab you !" 
 
 And the Borderer for a moment looked gloomy. 
 
 As to Falconbridge, he laughed gaily at this ominous 
 speech, and playing with his rich swordhilt said carelessly : 
 
 * Fm not afraid, and I think two can play at the cutting 
 
THE MASTEB OF GEEEltWAY COOBT.. 
 
 47 
 
 game! Nevertheless, thanks, Captain, for the interest you 
 feel. I am going now to a different sort of combat — to en- 
 counter perhaps a more dangerous enemy." 
 
 And Falconbridge with a laugh looked westward. 
 
 " I know you are," said Wagner, gazing at his companion 
 wistfully. 
 
 " There comes Sir John, as fresh as a dew drop." 
 " A fine animal : and you are going, I don't doubt " — 
 "To see the fair Miss Bertha? Yes, indeed. "What a 
 splendid beauty !" 
 
 " Yes, very splendid : remember what I said just now." 
 "What did you say?" 
 
 "I said beware of smiles; distrust the hand thrust into 
 your own ; take care of the knife !" 
 
 And refusing to say another word, the Captain with a sul- 
 len movement of his head went into the house, his fore- 
 head bent thoughtfully toward the ground and overshad- 
 owed. 
 
 Falconbridge stood looking at him for a moment in si- 
 lence, and then laughing silently, nodded his head upward 
 and downward with the muttered words : 
 
 "Yes, yes! a queer genius — a great dreamer ! The 'smile,' 
 the ' knife ' — ' take care of them !' Oh yes ! he jests with me; 
 but he's a good comrade and I w >n't complain. Good morn- 
 ing, good Sir John ! A fair sunshine for us, and I hope you 
 are refreshed. Ho! comrade!" 
 
 And the young man vaulted into the saddle laughing. He 
 . gathered up the reins, threw a coin to the respectful hostler, 
 and set forward gaily toward the west. 
 
 "What an oddity, the Captain!" he added, "with hia 
 knives and warnings X Forward, Sir John! we are ex- 
 pected 1" 
 
 Aaid he put spur to the fine animal, who set forward more 
 rapidly than before. 
 
48 
 
 FAIRFAX ; OR. 
 
 vn 
 
 THE CAPTAIN RENEWS THE ATTACK. 
 
 APTAIN WAGNER entered the Ordinary shak- 
 ing his head mysteriously, but his reflections were 
 all at once banished by the sight of the fair Mrs. 
 Butter ton, who was seated gracefully upon a 
 cane-bottomed chair, conversing. The Capbain joined in the 
 conversation with an easy air, and soon the visit of the 
 lady to the Valley became the topic. The explanation was 
 simple. The settlers of the region, Lord Fairfax at the 
 head of them, had determined to organize a county gov- 
 ernment ; and the question at the moment was, the locality 
 of the county-seat. For this honor, the two microscopic vil- 
 lages of Stephensburg and Winchester were candidates ; 
 and as Mrs. Butterton chanced to possess a number of lots in 
 and about Winchester, she was naturally desirous that their 
 value should be enhanced by the selection of that place for 
 the seat of government. 
 
 The fair widow concluded her sensible explanation by 
 taking from a reticule, which hung jauntily upon her arm, a 
 Dumber of documents, which she gracefully handed to the 
 Borderer. 
 
 Captain Wagner looked at the papers and pondered ; then 
 pushing up his martial moustache, he said to the widow : 
 
 "I admire your business talent, my dear madam ; what a 
 *rife you would make ! what an admirable wife ! I shall re- 
 commend my friends to come and make themselves agreea- 
 ble." 
 
 " La ! Captain, you are jesting," said the lady, covering 
 her face affectedly with her fan. 
 
THE MASTER OF JREENWAY COURT. 
 
 49 
 
 "Jesting? Jest on such a subject — never!" 
 "You are a sad joker!" 
 " Not with you." 
 "Why not with me?" 
 
 "I know not, my dear madam, except it be on account of 
 Hiat high respect I have for you." 
 "Flatterer!" 
 
 " That friendship, that regard — that, I may say, hum- • 
 that, yes, that " — 
 
 Captain Wagner finished the sentence with a look which 
 RpoKe volumes. The widow fairly blushed. 
 
 " What are you talking about, daughter and Gaptain V 
 said the old German, coming up, "not fell out, I hope." 
 
 "Oh, far from it, father!" said Mrs. Butterton, laughing. 
 
 "She is a great rattle-drap at times, Gaptain," continued 
 the landlord, "and full of all sorts of notions. Here is 
 Mounseer Jambo, for instance — come here to deach danc- 
 fog." 
 
 " He is a fine artist, father," said Mrs. Butterton. 
 
 "Hum!" said Captain Wagner, "he seems to be your par- 
 ticular friend." 
 
 " Oh, yes — he is a very gallant gentleman." 
 
 Captain Wagner scowled at Monsieur Auguste Hypolite 
 Jambot, and that gentleman chancing at the moment to 
 raise his eyes, was nearly struck motionless by the look. 
 
 Indeed, Captain Wagner was a disagreeable man to have 
 for an enemy, so large of limb, and terrible in arms was he ; 
 and his scowl was one of horrible expressiveness. He 
 looked sword, pistol and blunderbuss at the very least 
 
 " I have no doubt that Monsieur Jambot is gallant, mad- 
 am," said he; "thij he has proved by condescending to 
 accompany you hither." 
 
 "Come, you look at Monsieur Auguste as if you did not 
 like him," said Mrs. Butterton. 
 
 " Not like him, madam ?" said Captain Wagner, bringing 
 
 3 
 
50 
 
 FAIRFAX; OR, 
 
 down his great, gloved hand on the table; "that's true! I 
 do not like Frenchmen." 
 
 " And I," said Monsieur Jambot, rising and bristling up 
 at these words, "I do not like, no, I have no liking foi 
 capitaines, begar!" 
 
 Captain Wagner touched his sword instinctively, but re- 
 flecting that a quarrel, and combat with so diminutive a 
 gentleman, and on so slight a provocation, was out of the 
 question, withdrew his hand, and only scowled again on 
 Monsieur Jambot. 
 
 Having thus terminated the conversation as far as the 
 dancing-master was concerned, Captain Wagner turned, 
 with great good humor and cheerfulness, to Mrs. Butterton, 
 who had counterfeited excessive trepidation: but who, see- 
 ing matters thus amicably arranged, was again all smiles. 
 
 " My dear madam," said he, " the sight of you to-day has 
 rejoiced me— and you were right in telling me your busi- 
 ness. I shall assist you in that business: I will, madam !" 
 
 "La !* thank you, Captain," said the lady. 
 
 "I will, madam," said Captain Wagner, solemnly. "I 
 pledge you my word that Winchester shall, on your account, 
 be the seat of Justice of the county of Frederick." 
 
 The widow regarded Captain Wagner witn a tender 
 glance; — not so much in return for his promised services — 
 to do her justice be it said, — as in requital of his devotedness. 
 
 " For your sake," said the Captain, in a tone inaudible to 
 the rest of the company, "I would do far more." 
 
 " You are very disinterested, Captain," murmured the 
 lady. 
 
 " Disinterested? Not so, faith !" said the Borderer; "re- 
 member what I say !" 
 
 And having overwhelmed the fair widow by this unmis- 
 takable avowal, Captain Longknife directed another scowl, 
 far more terrible than the former ones, at Monsieur Jambot, 
 who was still tuning his fiddle; and turned the conversation 
 upon indifferent topics. 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURZ 
 
 The lady smiled, the old German smoked, the dancing* 
 master meditated a solo, or frowned with lofty dignity at hifl 
 rival. 
 
 Thus some hours passed, and then the Captain, pleading 
 business with Lord Fairfax, took his departure. 
 
 It is unnecessary for us to say, that li*e a stalwart soldier, 
 the huge Enceladus had returned un terrified to the attack, 
 with better knowledge of the enemy he assaulted, and • 
 fixed determination to be victor in the struggle. 
 
52 FAIRFAX ; OR. 
 
 vm. 
 
 HOW GEORGE WAS LED BY PROVIDENCE. 
 
 r ET us now return to George, who, as the reader 
 will find, met with more adventures in his ride 
 ! than he expected. 
 
 ! The boy stood watching Captain Wagner until 
 
 that worthy and his ebon steed were swallowed by the bright 
 October foliage; and then mounting his handsome sorrel 
 left Green way Court, and — happy, laughing, joycus with 
 that rare roseate joy of youth and inexperience, and confi- 
 dence — went forth toward the South, over the swaying, 
 splendid prairie, and through the brilliant forest. 
 
 Poor words ! — for what words can describe the forests of 
 the Shenandoah Valley in October? — what painter, even, 
 though he stood in stature above Titian, and the masters of 
 all time, could place upon the canvas the resplendent glories 
 of this noble season ? Not a mere thoughtless rhapsody is 
 this — for in the heart of him who writes, a thousand Au- 
 tumn scenes live, like memories of youth, beautiful and 
 brilliant with the glories of the "jocund prime " of exist- 
 ence ! — so beautiful that, remembering them now, in days 
 not so bright, he is thankful for the treasure given him, and 
 living in his recollections, cares not for the present. 
 
 George was still in that brilliant land of youth—- with 
 senses open to its glories and delights; and so he went on 
 joyfully, and gladly, through the golden morning, drinking 
 in at every pore, the splendors of the Autumn. „ 
 
 It was one of those mornings which seem to come like a 
 blessing on the earth: when the azure sky, piled up with 
 snowy clouds, droops down upon a world of beauty; when 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWA5T COURT. 58 
 
 the cool breath of joyful winds sweer® across hill an^ val- 
 ley, with a murmurous laughter, as of myriads of merr* 
 goblins, let loose for a holiday, and reveling in their freedom 
 The variegated foliage of the waving forest, like the bannen 
 of every nation met in leaguer around the battlements oi 
 the noble mountains, shone in the clear sunlight, and the 
 rich prairie waved its gorgeous flowers from end to end oi 
 the great valley. 
 
 To George, the Autumn did not present an aspect of 
 mournfulness or decay: rather of full-handed, ripe, and 
 matured beauty His eye dwelt with delight upon the 
 forest, with its magical colors; his roving and bright glances 
 penetrated the white, delicate mist which, clearly relieved 
 against the mountain, lay,like a milky cloud along the wind- 
 ing river: — the boy's heart filled with youthful joy and 
 romance. 
 
 As he approached the mountain, the blue gradually 
 changed to green ; the undefined shadowy giants stood out 
 in bolder relief, with rocky shoulders, and belts of haughty 
 pines; — and then, after an hour's rapid riding straight on, 
 he had approached so near, that it seemed to him an easy 
 thing to push his horse up the slope, and gain the inviting 
 summit. George had, however, yet to learn that nothing is 
 more deceptive than the apparent distance between the 
 beholder and the great towering sentinel of Nature. He 
 was yet a considerable distance from the mountain, and in 
 his path lay an obstacle not to be despised — the tree-fringed 
 river. 
 
 As George drew near the river, and went along under the 
 bright foliage of the lofty trees, a thousand woodlanu sights 
 and sounds were around him. On the prairie the land- 
 scape was wild and undisturbed; he had heard no sound, 
 but the far resounding cry of the crane as he rose from some 
 streamlet's bed; had seen nothing but such air-wanderers 
 as swept the blue sky on long stately wings, far up among 
 the «louds .— fcr the most part all was still, and calm, and 
 
54 
 
 FAIRFAX; OR, 
 
 vast, as undisturbed as the landscape untouched as yet bj 
 the foot of man. 
 
 But now all was changed; the forest seemed instinct with 
 life, and joy, and beauty. Long vines fell in bright festoons 
 from the trees, and if these vines did not exhale the delicate 
 pepfume with which they flooded the forests in May morn- 
 ings, they still were beautiful with their flaunting garlands, 
 and fantastic outlines. 
 
 The pines were full of whisperings, as though the moun- 
 tain wind would never have done telling them its secrets. 
 The oaks, yellow and tail. The dogwood brilliant with its 
 crimson clustering berries. The alder- tree, like saffron, 
 and the hickory, yellow, but still strong, and graceful as a 
 youthful giant — all were full of life and motion, and the 
 voice of birds. 
 
 At distant openings the young man caught sight of more 
 than one flying deer, and on the far mountain-side he saw 
 distinctly a herd of huge elk galloping, as is their wont, into 
 the verdurous, undiscovered depths of the deep glens. 
 
 As he approached the sloping bank of the river, an otter 
 showed his brown nose, and bead-like eyes, then dived, 
 making circles as he disappeared in the bright water; and 
 at the noise a flock of wild geese, who had been feeding in 
 the tall flags, rose up with a shrill clanging scream, and 
 soared away, far into the bright clouds, on snowy wings, 
 toward the South. 
 
 George reined up his horse and gazed with delighted eyes 
 on the tranquil stream, whose surface, scarce broken into 
 ripples by the gentle wind, mirrored the drooping boughs 
 of the crimson and golden-leafed trees, and white floating 
 clouds. The woodland sights and sounds delighted him — 
 the freshness and wild grace of the fair nook with its green 
 grass, and tree- trunks and fresh water, charmed him; — never 
 had he seen so beautiful a landscape. 
 
 As he sat quietly in his saddle, gazing at the bright water, 
 from which, at intervals, the " fall fisfc " leaped into the wr; 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 55 
 
 his attention was attracted by a figure upon the opposite 
 side of the river, which at this point was not very wide. 
 This figure was that of a girl of about fifteen, who was evi- 
 dently gathering flowers. 
 
 For the purpose of reaching the water-blossoms, growing 
 far down in the shady nooks, near the surface of the stream, 
 she stooped very carelessly over — so carelessly at times, tha 
 George, who, unseen himself amid the foliage, was watching 
 her, feared every moment that her foot would slip, and she 
 would be precipitated into the stream. But the little 
 maiden took her way along the steep and dangerous bank 
 with the care and skill of one practiced in roadside wander- 
 ing; and her basket was soon full of fall flowers, which she 
 paused to gaze at with evident satisfaction. 
 
 The boy looked at her for a moment, as she stood in the 
 sunlight — glad to have seen this fresh woodland picture. 
 He then turned the head of his horse, dismissed the little 
 maiden from his mind with a careless conjecture as to her 
 presence in that wild scene, and gazing at the clouds, was 
 about to continue his way. As he touched his horse with 
 the spur, a cry suddenly resounded in his ears — a cry of 
 alarm and helplessness — and wheeling round, he saw at one 
 rapid glance that his fears had been realized. 
 
 The little maiden had boldly ventured out upon a large, 
 moss-covered log, at the end of which grew a magnificent 
 cluster of yellow primroses; and this log having turned, she 
 had lost her footing. 
 
 When George saw her she was just losing her balance; 
 and her cry of terror scarcely reached his ears, when she 
 dropped her basket, and fell into the stream. 
 
 George was one of those persons who never hesitate or 
 lose their presence of mind — whom no sudden surprise 
 affects. 
 
 The girl had scarcely touched the water before the boy 
 with a violent stroke of the spur, had driven his horse intc 
 the river, and was swimming vigorously and rapidly toward 
 her. 
 
FAIRFAX ; O* 
 
 IX. 
 
 HOW GEORGE MADE THE ACQUAINTANCE OF CANUTE. 
 
 HE girl seemed to feel that a friend was coming 
 to her rescue, for her head was turned even in 
 the midst of her struggle against the watery 
 death which threatened her, toward the boy. 
 Her garments at first afforded her some support, and 
 George thought he could easily reach her; but this hope 
 began to disappear, and his trembling hps and flushed face 
 showed his desperate anxiety. His eyes burned, and lean- 
 ing forward on his animal, he devoured the sinking form 
 with his looks, and struck the animal with his hand to has^ 
 ten its speed. 
 
 Before he had arrived within twenty yards of the young 
 girl, the water began rapidly to fill her clothing, and thus 
 to add its own weight to the weight of her body. She grad- 
 ually sank lower and lower; her long, chestnut hair rested 
 on the water, and the waves toyed with it. 
 
 Nothing but the bright face was now visible; the small, 
 bare arms were raised above the water; and a cry for help 
 issued from the child's Hps. George felt his throat choke ; 
 his eyes seemed to be starting from his head; his hands 
 trembled like a leaf. Again a faint cry came from the 
 child's hps — again the small arms beat the water; but the 
 effort only hastened her fate. A wave passed over her 
 head while George was still ten feet from her, panting, 
 overcome with horror and despair. 
 
 Then she was gone ! snatched from him I suffocated with' 
 i$ his very sight I He uttered a groan of despair. Bat 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 57 
 
 suddenly he seemed to feel that one course was left him; 
 he might still save her. He threw jdmself from the saddle 
 into the stream; passed over the space which separated 
 them with half a dozen strokes, and came to hei side. A 
 curl of hair, before he was conscious of it, glided into hia 
 hand, and the next moment the girl was in his arms, her 
 pale face lay upon his shoulder, and he swam with his al- 
 most lifeless burden to the shore. 
 
 George raised her in his arms, as though she had been 
 an infant, and bore her to a grassy bank. Here, he used 
 every means to restore her to consciousness, and at the end 
 of ten minutes had the inexpressible satisfaction of seeing 
 her open her eyes. 
 
 " Oh, sir ! I was nearly drowned, was I not ?" she mur- 
 mured. 
 
 " Yes, indeed you were," said George, gazing kindly on 
 the little face. 
 
 " Did you save me ?" said the girl. 
 
 " I believe I did," said George, smiling, to keep up hel 
 spirits; "you fell into the water, and " 
 
 " Oh, yes ! I remember all now — oh, me 1" 
 
 And with a shudder, the girl closed her eyes, overcome 
 by the recollection. 
 
 "Don't think about it any more," said the boy; "it will 
 agitate you. And you ought not to keep these wet clothes 
 on — you ought to go home at once. And I must ask you 
 your name, and where you live." 
 
 The girl sighed, and said, faintly : 
 
 " My name is Cannie Powell, and we live up in the Fort 
 Mountain, sir." 
 "Very far?" 
 " Oh, no, not very, sir/' 
 
 "Don't call me sir" said George, smiling; "I'm only a 
 boy, and it seems so constrained; my name is George." 
 
 The lips of the girl moved as though she were imprestdng 
 the name forever upon her memory. 
 8* 
 
58 
 
 FAIRFAX; OR, 
 
 " You ought to go home at once now/ ' he said, " I will gc 
 
 and catch my horse, and we will return together.'* 
 The girl's cheeks colored, and she murmured : 
 "You are very kind I But I ought not to — you wero 
 
 going " 
 
 " Nowhere ! nowhere in the world; if I had been, I know 
 my duty as a gentleman." 
 
 And George raised his head with simplicity; and castiug 
 a last look toward Cannie, went to search for his hoise. 
 The intelligent animal had not wandered far. Emerging 
 from the water, after being abandoned by his master, he 
 had quietly commenced feeding on the long grass — and now 
 allowed himself to be recaptured easily. 
 
 George led him back to the spot where the girl sat, and 
 throwing one stirrup over the saddle, helped her to mount, 
 in spite of many protestations that she could easily walk. The 
 boy only smiled, and with the air of an elderly protector, 
 led the animal by the bridle, along the narrow road, 
 through the rugged gorge. To the music of the brawling 
 Passage Creek they thus entered the Valley of the Fort. 
 
 Glancing often back at his little charge, the youth now 
 took in every detail of her face and figure. Long chestnut 
 hair fell in moist, rich curls around a delicate face, with 
 large, hazel eyes, rosy cheeks, and lips full of a grave sweet- 
 ness and simplicity. There was something fresh and pure 
 in every trait of the countenance, and the slender form pos- 
 sessed a childish grace and attraction. She was not clad 
 like the daughter of a woodman, and this fact had very soon 
 attracted George's attention. The fabric of her dress was 
 almost rich, although greatly worn; traces of embroidery 
 were visible upon the skirt; and around her neck the girl 
 wore a string of very beautiful pearls. Her small feet were 
 cased, it is true, in rough, high-reaching shoes; but her 
 white stockings were of the finest silk; and her hands had 
 evidently never been acquainted with toil. 
 
 These singular peculiarities of the girl's dress attracted, as 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 6£ 
 
 we have said, the attention of her companion; but he did not 
 dwell on them as strongly as he would have done, had he 
 lived longer in the wild country which they were traversing, 
 whose inhabitants still wore such rude costumes. He was 
 looking at the sweet face which riveted his eyes, and he 
 gazed at her so intently that the girl colored under his 
 look. George saw that the blush was occasioned by his 
 glance, and immediately looked away, and commenced talk- 
 ing — the girl replying with her grave sweetness, in which 
 he found a singular charm. 
 
 They thus took thek way along the wooded road, and 
 soon disappeared behind the huge trees. 
 
 Had George chanced to look back as the road turned a 
 great mossy rock, he would have seen something to startle 
 him. As the two forms disappeared, the red leaves of an 
 immense oak slightly rustled — a swarthy face peered care- 
 fully out — and the next moment an Indian, who had lain 
 close at full length on one of the great limbs, dropped 
 noiselessly to the ground. He was a young man, apparently 
 about twenty-three, with a slender figure, bare to the waist. 
 His nervous limbs were cased in fringed leggings of doeskin; 
 his feet in moccasins, profusely decorated with the quills of 
 the porcupine — and above his forehead nodded a plume of 
 bright-colored feathers, the badge of a chief. In his bear- 
 ing there was something noble and impressive; and as he 
 stood for a moment leaning with crossed arms, bare like 
 his chest, upon a long cedar bow, he presented an appear- 
 ance eminently attractive for its wild and graceful beauty. 
 
 The young Indian looked gravely in the direction taken 
 by George and Cannie — threw a quick glance toward the 
 nky — then murmuring something in a low voice, which was 
 yery musical and sad, set forward with the rapid pace of a 
 hunter, on the path which they had followed. He saw 
 them mount the winding road, and approach a little moun- 
 tain dwelling. Then, as if satisfied that further watching 
 was useless, he sighed, plunged into the forest again, and 
 was lost in the shadow of the autumn foliage. 
 
60 
 
 FAIRFAX; OR, 
 
 X. 
 
 A SINGULAR PERSONAGE. 
 
 BOUND the small house upon the side of the 
 mountain, the finest tints of autumn seemed to 
 cluster. The great oaks were like pyramids of 
 crimson; the tufted pines, resembling the tall 
 tropic palms, which wave their gigantic plumes in the 
 breezes of the Indian ocean, rose clear and beautiful against 
 the sky — and over all fell the rosy haze of autumn like a 
 happy dream. 
 
 The house was of logs, rough-hewn, and with clap-boards 
 for a roof; the windows small, and evidently constructed 
 with an eye to defence; the stone chimney in the rear 
 leaned, as it were, against a huge mass of rock, fringed with 
 close-set shrubbery. Flowers of autumn were in bloom 
 beside the low door — and the whole mansion had about ii 
 an indefinable air, which seemed to indicate the presence oJ 
 a woman or a child. George assisted Cannie to the ground, 
 and fixing the bridle of his horse to a bough, followed hei 
 into the house. The room which they entered was simply 
 furnished, but scrupulously neat; some books were lying 
 on the rude shelf used as a mantel-piece; and the whole 
 apartment was very cheerful and attractive. 
 
 As Cannie entered, an old man came to meet her; and the 
 eyes of this personage were fixed upon her companion 
 with an intentness which was for the moment not at all 
 agreeable. They seemed to look through him, and that, 
 without the least effort, and in an instant. 
 
 Then the expression of the old man's face changed; he 
 greeted the boy with collected courtesy; and when Cannie, 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 61 
 
 in a broken and agitated voice, spoke of her accident and 
 rescue, the old man's expression changed more and more, 
 and with a slight color in his pale cheeks, he held out hia 
 hand, and grasped that of George with the warmest grati- 
 tude. 
 
 George scanned the figure of his host; and this scrutiny 
 evidently resulted in a manner similar to that former one in 
 regard to the child. The old man was evidently no rude 
 backwoodsman; his countenance and eyes wore the unmis- 
 takable stamp of the student, and the man of intellectual 
 cultivation; and even in his dress the same difference was 
 discernible. He was clad in a suit which had once been 
 rich, and still exhibited trace3, beneath a thousand stains 
 and rents, of its former splendor. Upon one of the thin 
 fingers, sparkled a diamond ring, and a pair of large, gold- 
 cased glasses covered his eyes, rolling beneath their heavy 
 white eyebrows. 
 
 As Cannie related, in her grave, sweet voice, the events of 
 the morning, George read in the eyes of the old man a 
 depth of tenderness, which he had never before seen in the 
 face of mortal. When she told how George had saved her 
 life, the wan cheeks flushed, and holding out, as we have 
 said, his thin, white hand, the strange host inclosed the 
 youth's in a grasp, which resembled the pressure of steel 
 springs. 
 
 " You have saved two lives, sir," he said, with a singular 
 nobility of tone; "thanks, thanks! And now, my child," 
 he added, turning to Cannie, "go change your dress, or 
 you will be ill/ 
 
 The girl obeyed, and disappeared for a quarter of an hour, 
 during which time the singular host spoke calmly on a vari- 
 ety of subjects. There was an air of collected strength and 
 composure about the speaker, which puzzled George more 
 and more — for he felt that he was in the presence of a supe- 
 rior man. In the midst of the conversation, Cannie re-ap- 
 peared, with a primrose in ker hair, and a smile on her Upi 
 
82 
 
 FAIRFAX; OR, 
 
 — far more beautiful, George thought, than before. Shs 
 joined simply in the conversation — and an hour fled by im- 
 perceptibly, during which the youth found himself more and 
 more absorbed in the process of gazing at Cannie. Then 
 remembering his agreement with Captain Wagner, he arose, 
 and in spite of the most courteous urging, declared he must 
 depart. 
 
 " I really must return, sir," he said; " they will expect me 
 at Greenway Court." 
 
 " At Greenway Court!" said his host, with an unmi«taka 
 ble start; " are you staying at Greenway Court ?" 
 
 And the piercing eyes seemed to dive into his own, as 
 though their owner wished to read his very soul. 
 
 "Yes, I came to the Valley but a day or two since," re- 
 plied the young man, "and stopped at Lord Fairfax's. 
 What surprises you, sir ?" 
 
 " Nothing, nothing, my young friend — it Is nothing !" 
 
 And withdrawing, as it were, into himself, the speaker 
 controlled every exhibition of emotion. But George after- 
 wards remembered the quick start — and understood why the 
 utterance of the simple words produced an effect so singu- 
 lar. 
 
 With the promise that he would come very soon again, 
 to know if Cannie had recovered from her accident, he at 
 last departed — the grave, sweet face of the girl going with 
 him —her smile seeming to light him on his way. A thou- 
 and speculations chased each other through his bewildered 
 mind; he tried in vain to imagine who his eccentric host 
 could be. But he was completely at fault. He gave up 
 finally in despair; and turned with a sort of delightful re- 
 lief to -the image of the grave little maiden. 
 
 He was still absorbed in his thoughts of her, when the si- 
 lence of the lonely road was suddenly broken. The notes.of 
 a bugle rang out clear from the mountain side — the echoes 
 chased each other from cliff to cliff — and then a great tramp- 
 ling and baying was heard near at hand, and a huge stag, 
 pursued by a score of hounds, bounded into the gorge, and 
 fell bfafeding to the earth almost at the young man's feet 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY OCUttT. 
 
 38 
 
 XL 
 
 THE WILD HUNTSMAN. 
 
 HE trampling which George had heard all at once 
 became louder ; a hoarse voice hallooed to the 
 dogs ; and in an instant a tall huntsman, mounted 
 on a fiery animal of great size and muscle, thun- 
 dered from a narrow bridle-path into the open space. 
 
 The stag had fallen, but, half raised upon one knee, was 
 goring the dogs with his huge antlers. They strove to 
 clutch him by the throat, but he foiled them, one and all, 
 and several of them had already received bad wounds when 
 the huntsman reached the spot. The sight seemed to arouse 
 a wild ferocity in him. His cheeks flushed crimson, his eyes 
 glared, and leaping from his horse, he drew his couteau de 
 chasse, and threw himself into the midst of the dogs. 
 
 The stag made a last desperate effort. He seemed to feel 
 that all was over. The dangerous antlers were lowered to 
 pierce the hunter's breast — but all was in vain. The ner- 
 vous hand grasping the sharp hunting-knife, darted forward 
 — the blood spouted forth— and the stag fell to the earth, his 
 throat cut nearly through and through. 
 
 The hunter rose, and calmly wiped the blood from his 
 knife on his sleeve. Then he turned to the youth. George 
 had thus an opportunity to scan his appearance. He was a 
 man of middle age, with a tall, gaunt figure, penetrating eyes, 
 and lips which seemed to indicate a temperament rather 
 melancholy and cynical, than happy. He wore a brown pe- 
 ruke, and otter-skin cap, with a buck's tail stack in it, and 
 tall boots with heavy spurs. The remainder of his costume 
 was rich, but discolored by rain and sun. The coat had 
 
 i 
 
64 
 
 FAIRFAX; OR, 
 
 once been profusely laced, and the orange silk waistcoat 
 still showed traces of gold embroidery ; but the s*ait, like its 
 wearer, appeared to have "seen better days." The hunter 
 had carelessly wiped the blade of his fine French couteau de 
 chasse on his cuff, and now scanned with great calmness hia 
 companion. 
 
 " A stag of ten, sir," he said, in a quiet, deep voice ; " yon 
 were fortunate to be in at the death." 
 
 "It is bloody sport," returned the young man, " but won- 
 derfully exciting. What will you do with the carcass of the 
 deer, sir?" ^ 
 
 " Carry it home with me," returned the huntsman. 
 
 And, whistling to his horse, which came slowly to his side, 
 he raised the ponderous body, and threw it across the front 
 of the saddle. Then mounting, he said : 
 
 " You were going in this direction — were you not, sir ?" 
 
 George replied in the affirmative ; and followed by the 
 dogs, of whom many limped painfully, they took their waj 
 straight toward the river. 
 
 " A day for an emperor I" said the stranger in a deep voice. 
 Then all at once smiling grimly, he looked at the young man 
 and added : " but that may seem an improper distinction to 
 you — you appear to be a Virginian, and the Virginians are all 
 republicans." 
 
 "I am a loyal subject of his Majesty, George II.," re- 
 turned the boy, " but God made the sunshine for all alike— 
 did he not, sir ?" 
 
 A grim smile seemed to deepen on the stranger's face. 
 " No doubt, no doubt," was the half indifferent reply, "but 
 (he lion has more right to the forest than the jackal — if not to 
 *. the sunshine. You see, sir, that his is the divine right of 
 11 kings, and his court of tigers, leopards and panthers, have 
 |\ their privileges of nobility." 
 
 \ • George looked puzzled. The strange huntsman seemed to 
 aim at provoking discussion ; but it was difficult to reply to 
 him. 
 
THE MASTER OF GREEN WAY COURT. 
 
 " You dissent," continued the grim, speaker, " but you 
 don't reply to me. Come, say now, my chance friend — is not 
 all this proper ? Should not the lion rule the forest — the 
 eagle the air? Should not the beautiful tigers and cougars 
 be above foxes — hyenas ?" 
 
 " Oh, assuredly 1" said George, " but kings and nobles are 
 not lions or eagles always — great lords are very often foxes 
 I have heard. And tell me, is it just, sir, that because the 
 fox bites the heel of the huntsman, as in the fable, and 
 saves the life of the lion — is it just that the lion should de- 
 clare the fOxes throughout all time superior to the higher 
 class of animals ?" 
 
 "Good, good!" said the stranger, "you strike hard at 
 hereditary privilege. You are a republican — you womld 
 overturn class ? 
 
 " I would raise up worth!" said George with animation ; "I 
 would have the strong and pure, instead of the weak and 
 corrupt, at the head of affairs. I think when God gives in- 
 tegrity and powerful brain to a man, he should hold the reins 
 of power, rather than his inferiors, though his origin be as 
 obscure as a peasant's. Is not that entirely rational, sir ?" 
 
 "Hum! hum!" said the stranger with his former smile, 
 " I was not wrong in declaring you a republican — but that's 
 no matter. What care we for kings or nobles in the wilds 
 here? Here's the river." 
 
 And with these laconic words the huntsman pushed his 
 horse into the water ; and, half fording, half swimming, soon 
 reached the opposite bank. George was there as quickly, 
 and they again set forward — soon issuing from the forest 
 into the waving prairie, whose myriads of brilliant flowers 
 were glittering in the rich light of the sinking sun. 
 
 All at once two figures on horseback appeared a quartei 
 of a mile in advance of them ; and these figures plainly des- 
 cried them, and awaited their approach. 
 
 ' / 
 
66 
 
 FAIRFAX; 0»» 
 
 XIL 
 
 THE DRAMA COMMENCES. 
 
 EOKGE recognized Falconbridge and Miss ArgaL 
 He rode his white thoroughbred, she her little 
 filly — and standing in the tall grass which reached 
 nearly to the backs of their horses, they presented, 
 in the golden flood of sunlight, a richly picturesque appear- 
 ance. 
 
 "I am very glad to see yoa" said Falconbridge, pushing 
 forward and shaking George's hand, with a gay smile : then 
 bowing courteously to the stranger, he added, "give you 
 good day, sir " 
 
 The hunter inclined coolly ; but something in the face of 
 the young man, or his tone of voice, seemed to affect him 
 strangely. His penetrating gaze riveted itself upon the 
 proud, laughing features of Falconbridge. and a shadow 
 passed over his brow, like that from a floating cloud. 
 
 "It is strange !" the grim Hps murmured ; "what a sin- 
 gular resemblance l" 
 
 Falconbridge did not observe the expression or the tone. 
 He had turned to George, and began to explain how the 
 young lady and himself, in riding out, had lost their way. 
 His manner, when he addressed or looted at her, had 
 changed greatly. There was something ai dent and impas- 
 sioned in his gaze as it rested on her face ; and the lady was 
 not backward in returning it with looks almost as signifi- 
 cant of her feelings. By some fatality this emotion seemed 
 suddenly to have ripened in both hearts — thenceforth it waa 
 plain that the young lady was the fate of Falconbridge — his 
 fate for weal or wo. 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 67 
 
 " And Miss Argal," said George, when Falconbridge bad 
 told how they had circled at random over the prairie, " was 
 ehe frightened?" 
 
 " Oh no ! she has behaved like a heroine, in spite of hei 
 utter ignorance of the road back to her home." 
 
 " I can't think where we are," said the young lady, with 
 one of her pretty smiles. But for some vague reason George 
 felt as if this declaration were not true. There was an im- 
 perceptible constraint in her manner as she spoke ; and his 
 truthful instinct told him that there was deception of some 
 sort beneath her apparent candor. He did not reply, but 
 turning to his companion said : 
 
 " We are not far from Green way Court, I believe, sir." 
 
 "Some distance," returned the huntsman coolly, "but the 
 path is well beaten." 
 
 And with a courteous but cold inclination to the young 
 lady, he set forward, followed by the party. The sun ran in 
 a stream of rich purple light across the hills , and far away 
 beyond the mountains ; the golden cloud ships slowly 
 floated off into the distance and were lost : and as tha 
 shades of night descended and the stars came out, thej 
 reached the old mansion of Greenway. 
 
 The tall huntsman tied his bridle to the bough of a tree 
 lifted the carcass of the deer to the ground, and turned to- 
 ward the porch. As he did so, old John appeared upon the 
 threshold, and bowing low, respectfully approached. 
 
 " Dismount if you please, Miss Argal," said the hunter, 
 with grave courtesy, " and honor my poor house with your 
 presence." > 
 
 "Lord Fairfax!" exclaimed George, "I might have known 
 that you were Lord Fairfax — but my mind was busy with 
 other thoughts I" 
 
 And something like a blush came to the cheeks of the boy 
 The Earl smiled, and pressing the young man's hand, said 
 in a friendly tone :l 
 
 " I am glad you did not know me — had you recognized on« 
 
FAIRFAX; OR, 
 
 of those 'foxes' you spoke of,' you would have depressed 
 yourself, perhaps, less honestly." 
 
 And vsitli courteous gesture, Lord Fairfax marshalled hia 
 guests before him into the mansion. 
 
 The first object which greeted all eyes, was the huge form 
 of Captain Wagner stretched in his favorite leathern chair : 
 he was sound asleep, and his snoring resembled distant 
 thunder. It was an amusing picture. His cocked hat had 
 fallen on the floor, and half covered a pipe which had es- 
 caped from the soldier's hand. A half emptied cup of Ja- 
 maica rum at his elbow proved that the sleeper had been al- 
 so occupied by the task of drinking after dinner. The long 
 sword in its leathern scabbard had gotten between the ath- 
 letic legs of the Captain, and at every chance movement rat- 
 tled fiercely against the rowek of his spurs, or the iron heels 
 of his large horseman's boots. 
 
 " Captain Wagner!" exclaimed the Earl, " so he's here 1" 
 
 The Borderer stirred in his sleep, and the words " fairest 
 lady!" escaped from his heavy froth-soiled moustache. 
 Whether it arose from the nature of his dreams, or from the 
 vicinity of that lithe and beautiful form, we cannot under- 
 take to say : but it is certain that when Captain Wagner was 
 awakened by the loud voice of Lord Fairfax, his conduct 
 seemed to indicate anything but dreams of ladies. He 
 ptarted up, seized his sword, and overturning the flagon of 
 Jamaica with his elbow, threw himself forward, crying " In- 
 juns ! or the devil take me !" 
 
 The grim melancholy smile George had already observed, 
 passed over the face of Lord Fairfax, and he sat down, 
 courteously motioning to his guests to be seated also. Then 
 turning to the soldier, who was rubbing his eyes : 
 
 " Well, Captain Longknife," he said grimly, "sleeping on 
 duty I see. When did you arrive ?" 
 
 The Captain bowed with greit composure, and picked up 
 Uis hat. 
 
 " You, my lord," he said, " are responsible for this nap I 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 69 
 
 have taken, and if I have slept on my post, you see I was 
 ready at a moment's notice." 
 
 " True ; you came near splitting me and my friends 
 here." 
 
 "That would have been too bad," said the Captain, " to 
 split so noble a seigneur as the baron of Cameron ; such 
 brave companions as friend Falconbridge and George, or so 
 peerless a dame as Miss Argal." 
 
 With which words Captain Wagner executed a stiff incli- 
 nation toward the lady in question. 
 
 " Thanks, sir," said Miss Argal in her self-possessed voice. 
 
 "I hope in my absence you procured everything you 
 wished, Captain," said Lord Fairfax ; " old John " 
 
 "Is a trump, or I'm a dandy, my dear sir," interrupted 
 the Borderer. " Did I find all I wanted? I believe you! 
 I'm an old campaigner, and f eeling entirely at home had 
 everybody running, of course." 
 
 " Eight, right," said Lord Fairfax, smiling ; " now, with 
 your permission, we'll have supper, as I'm hungry." 
 
 "My permission !" cried the Captain, "you are jesting! 
 You could not please me better ; I am dying for something 
 to eat. my dear friend !" 
 
 Old John, who was standing respectfully in a corner, 
 openefl. his eyes at this statement, in a way that expressed 
 volumes — but he was far too hospitable to allude to the 
 Captain's performances at dinner. At a sign from his mas- 
 ter he busied himself at once to get supper — and soon it was m 
 smoking upon the board. < 
 
 Neither Falconbridge nor Miss Argal seemed in a hurry to 
 depart ; and when after the meal Lord Fairfax urged the 
 young lady to remain all night, to avoid the chill air, she 
 consented with very little difficulty. George unconsciously 
 asked himself if young ladies in his neighborhood ever re- 
 mained away thus from home, and treated the feelings of 
 their relatives with such slight ceremony : but as Falcon- 
 bridge, beyond a slight movement of surprise, indicated no 
 
10 
 
 FAIRFAX J OR, 
 
 opinion, the youth thought he was unreasonable, and blamed 
 himself for his growing dislike to the young lady. 
 
 She kept her fine eyes cast down bashfully, the greater 
 part of the time, only raising them occasionally to throw 
 toward Falconbridge one of those glances full of subtle fas- 
 cia ation, which made her so dangerous. It thus happened 
 that she did not' observe the steady look which Lord Fair- 
 lax bent upon her face. This look, full of admiration, and 
 30 striking in one who seemed to care very little for aught 
 around him, took in every detail of the surpassingly beauti- 
 ful woman's appearance: — the gently arched brows, the ripe 
 red lips, the rounded chin, and the snowy throat, against 
 which the dark curls were clearly relieved, making the white 
 skin more dazzling from the contrast. Miss Argal did not 
 observe that absorbing look; Ler marvellous acutenoss would 
 have discerned in it more than it expressed. He soon 
 turned away, and commenced talking with Captain Wag- 
 ner, and George; and thus the hours fled, and bed-time 
 came. A maid announced that the young lady's apartment 
 was prepared; and Lord Fairfax, rising, conducted her to the 
 door, which he courteously opened, and ushered her 
 through with a ceremonious inclination. She inclined her 
 head gracefully in turn, and with a quick glance from the 
 corners of her eyes toward Falconbridge, disappeared. 
 
 "What a very beautiful face this young lady hasl" said • 
 the Earl, indifferently, " who is she ?" 
 
 "The daughter of your neighbor Argal," said the Cap- 
 tain; "the new settler up there toward Sfcephensburg." 
 
 " The lady is a friend of yours, I believe, sir," said the 
 Earl, turning courteously to Falconbridge. "I do not 
 know that I have seen you in our neighborhood before." 
 
 "That is easily explained, my lord," returned FalcOii- 
 bridge, with the same easy courtesy. "I have but just 
 reached this region. I have come hither to gather infor* 
 mation as to the condition of a large tract of land which I 
 «pwn on the South Branch* by grant some years since, from 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 71 
 
 your lordsliip's agent there. As to Miss Argal, I think I 
 may style myself her Mend, though our acquaintance has 
 been short." 
 Lord Fairfax bowed and said : 
 
 " To-morrow I shall endeavor to afford you the informa- 
 tion you desire, Mr. Falconbridge, and to cut out a task for 
 you, George, my young Republican." 
 
 "Oh, then you've been debating!" said the Captain, with 
 a yawn. v 
 
 "Yes, and George is a leveller — but no matter. I cars 
 for nobody's politics. As long as he surveys accurately, and 
 you, Captain, drive off the Indians, I'm content. And now, 
 gentlemen, I must bid you good-night. I am really weary. 
 Your apartments are all prepared." 
 
 With these words the Earl inclined his head, and rang a 
 little silver bell, which speedily brought old John to the 
 apartment. In half an hour, the whole mansion was silent. 
 Were all sleeping ? 
 
FAIRFAX ; OB, 
 
 TTTT 
 
 HOW FALCONBRIDGE HAD A STRANGE DREAM 
 
 ALCONBKEDGE had a singular dream He im 
 agined that about two hours after midnight, his 
 door opened; a heavy step stealthily approached 
 his couch, which was flooded by the pallid rays 
 of the great soaring moon ; and a tall form bent down, and 
 looked long and in silence upon his face. 
 
 "What the mysterious figure was like, he could not tell, 
 as the shoulders and head were wrapped in a heavy mantle 
 completely concealing the sex and character of the visitant. 
 All that he plainly perceived, was a pair of burning eyea 
 between the folds of the mantle — dark stars, as it wera 
 which glittered as they shone upon him with a lurid lustre. 
 
 The figure remained thus motionless beside his couch, 
 lost in the deep shadow, and silently scanning the sleeper, 
 who was full in the moonlight, for what seemed to Falcon- 
 bridge, an interminable time. Mastered by a vague influ- 
 ence, which he could not throw off, the young man lay still, 
 asking himself if he were really asleep and dreaming this — 
 or half awake, and looking upon a real form. He could not 
 determine the question in his mind, and remained thus, ly- 
 ing supine and powerless before the vision, in the condition 
 of a sleep-walker, or one in a trance. 
 
 To the first sensaHon of surprise and vague discomfort at 
 the presence of the singular visitor, ere long succeeded a 
 deep curiosity to discover what would be the next action of 
 the figure. The eyes seemed to have burned down upon 
 his face for centuries, but at some time they must be with- 
 drawn. Falconbridge waited, therefore, and was not dis- 
 appointed in his expectation. 
 
THE MASTER OP GREENWAY COURT. 73 
 
 The mysterious figure slowly assumed an upright position ; 
 a deep sigh seemed to issue from its bosom ; and with head 
 bent over its shoulder, and drooping form, it slowly returned 
 toward the door through which it had entered. 
 
 The absence ©f the strange, glowing eyes seemed to give 
 ihe dreamer courage. No longer paralyzed, as it were, by 
 the magnetic glance, Falconbridge started from his couch, 
 and grasping his sword, which lay upon the table, near his 
 bed, bounded to the door. 
 
 He thought he saw it open and close upon the figure. 
 
 His sword pierced the solid wood — the clash echoing 
 through the mansion with a strange, weird sound. 
 
 Falconbridge tore open the door, and issued forth upon 
 the landing of the staircase. Nothing was to be seen. The 
 pale moonlight slept upon the rude banisters, and the 
 oaker. floor, but no form was visible. 
 
 Hi> rubbed his eyes, and returning to the apartment, 
 wrenched his sword from the wood in which the point had 
 been buried. 
 
 Had he dreamed ? Could it really have been his fancy ? 
 
 " I swear I saw it 1" he muttered, wiping the cold perspi- 
 ration from his brow, and returning to his couch; "it bent 
 over me, and looked into my face !" 
 
 With these words he deposited his sword again upon the ta- 
 ble, and lay down. He remained for an hour or more awake, 
 watching for the return of the figure, but nothing disturbed 
 the lonely silence. At last he fell asleep, murmuring; and 
 slumbered undisturbed, until the sunlight streamed into his 
 all amber through the eastern window, and waked him. 
 I 
 
?4 FAIRFAX ; OB, 
 
 XIV. 
 
 THE NEXT MORNING. 
 
 OU must have eaten a heavy supper, sir," said 
 Lord Fairfax coldly, as at breakfast the young 
 man related his strange vision; " Green way 
 Court is not ancient enough to possess a ghost, 
 and your dreams took a singular direction." 
 
 "True, my lord," returned Falconbridge, thoughtfully, 
 " but I could almost swear I was not asleep." 
 
 "Not asleep 1" said the Earl, with grave surprise. 
 " At least I think so. But plainly, I am mistaken. Yet 
 'tis strange I I seem to have seen really those lurid eyes 
 full of pain and yearning — unhappy eyes !" 
 
 And Falconbridge leaned back in his chair and sighed. 
 " There, comrade 1' said Captain Wagner, with his mouth 
 full, "stop that groaning, or you'll make me melancholy. 
 Luckily my appetite is proo f against everything — but come, 
 laugh !" 
 
 Falconbridge smiled. The sonorous voice of the soldier 
 aroused him; and his constitutional spirits gradually re- 
 turned. 
 
 "You are right, Captain," he said; "this is idle, and I 
 am carried away by sickly fancies. And yet I could have 
 sworn ! but enough. I fear I've terrified you by my ghost!" 
 he added, turning with a brilliant smile to Miss Argal; "I 
 trust your own dreams were more pleasant. 
 
 " Very pleasant," was the low reply; and George caught 
 in its passage, a quick glance, which seemed to say, "I 
 dreamed of you." 
 
 The breakfast soon afterward terminated; and Falcon 
 bridge requested the Earl to have his horse and Miss 
 
THE MASTER OF GREBNWAZ OOUBT. 
 
 76 
 
 Arga v s brought up. The young lady replied to uis lord- 
 ship's hospitable invitation to remain, that she feared her 
 father was uneasy on her account; and this excuse was con- 
 clusive. 
 
 So they departed; Falconbridge making an appointment 
 with the Earl to visit him on the next day; and soon after- 
 ward George, too, mounted his horse and left Greenway. 
 
 Was it to look at the country, or make surveys ? If so. 
 the youth evidently preferred the region of the Fort Moun« 
 tain; for in an hour or two he had crossed the river, and 
 was galloping along the road to the house of Cannie. 
 
 V 
 
H FAIRFAX J OB, 
 
 XV. 
 
 BOW LORD FAIRFAX INFORMED THE CAPTAIN OF A FAMIL1 
 PROPHECY. 
 
 OED FAIRFAX and the Captain were thus left 
 
 alone together. 
 
 The worthy Borderer lit his pipe, and stretch- 
 ing himself in his favorite leathern chair, pre- 
 pared to listen or to converse. 
 
 The Earl sat opposite in one of the carved-backed seats; 
 and, resting one arm upon a small table, prepared for busi- 
 ness. Two great deer-hound^iy at his feet, and altogether 
 he presented, in his rich costume of blue velvet, slashed and 
 ornamented with embroidery, an extremely picturesque 
 appearance, though the listless and melancholy expression 
 of his features seemed to indicate that his feelings wero far 
 from cheerful. 
 
 On the table, beneath the hand of the Earl, lay a rudely- 
 drawn map of the frontier, and beside it were a number of 
 roughly-folded letters, and an inkstand, from which a long 
 eagle's quill rose, like a bulrush bowed by the wind. 
 
 As to Captain "Wagner, that worthy was clad as usual in 
 his rough travelling dress, and heavy boots. One would 
 have imagined that the soldier never doffed these vestments, 
 so wholly a part of him did they seem; and it would have 
 astonished his acquaintances to have seen the huge sword 
 anywhere else than in its natural position, suspended from 
 the great broad belt, and between the athletic legs. 
 
 Lord Fairfax leaned back in his chair, and passed his 
 hand wearily over his brow. His features wore their ordi- 
 nary expression of gloomy, almost harsh repose, but from 
 
THE MASTER OF GItEENWAY JtORT 
 
 77 
 
 "Thus, you see, Captain," he said, at length, "that I want 
 assistance. The audacious attack upon my house here 
 which you have just related, proves that I was not wrong in 
 sending for you to come and help me. You think that thia 
 was only a prowling band, and of no strength — mere pil- 
 lagers from the recesses of the mountains, come down on a 
 momentary foray, as we say in Scotland; you may be right 
 —I do not dispute it — in fact I agree with you. But that 
 the appearance of Indians, in any numbers, east of the 
 North Mountain, is a thing to take heed of, I need not tell 
 you. Besides, I have other information which I have laid 
 before you, to which you have listened attentively, and be- 
 jrond doubt carefully considered. It comes to me in right 
 of my office. I am Lord Lieutenant, or, as they say here, 
 County Lieutenant of Frederick and the adjoining shires, 
 and this information proves to me, that a great Indian at- 
 tack may be expected at any moment. I am not sure that 
 this day will pass in peace; that a runner will not, in aa 
 hour from this time, burst into my presence to announce 
 an attack upon my manois on the South Branch." 
 
 " Not improbable," said the Captain, smoothing his mous- 
 tache, thoughtfully. 
 
 "Thus I have sent for you," continued Lord Fairfax, 
 " and I thank you for your promptness. You have grown 
 hard in these encounters, and I know your military genius 
 perfectly well." \ 
 
 "Thanks, my lord." 
 
 "Look," continued the Earl, pointing to the map; "all 
 these lands are, as you know, a part of my grant from the 
 Crown; this is the South Branch of the Potomac, and yon 
 see these crosses. You know better than I do myself that 
 they are houses of settlers. I do not wish these Indian 
 devils to ruin my lands, to scare ofl* settlers. I shall 
 never return to England at that rate." 
 
 " Does your lordship think of going back T* 
 
78 
 
 FAIRFAX ; OB, 
 
 "Assuredly," said Lord Fairfax, with a grim xt>6k; "I do 
 not expect to live all my days here in the wilderness." 
 "I thought this was your chosen home." 
 
 " You have thought wrongly, then. As soon as I have 
 eollected money enough to re-purchase Denton, I shall re- 
 turn." 
 
 "Denton, my lord?" 
 
 "The paternal estate." 
 
 "How was it sold?" 
 
 " By my ra3cally guardians; the entail was cut off while I 
 was a minor, and thus the prophecy of old Lord Thomas, 
 the founder of our house, was fulfilled — but I shall disap- 
 point him yet." 
 
 These words were uttered gloomily, but with a dark flush 
 upon the swarthy features of the Earl. 
 
 "What prophecy does your lordship allude to, pray?" 
 asked the Captain. 
 
 " Have you never heard it ?" 
 
 " Never." 
 
 "Listen, then; the story is not long. The house of Fair- 
 fax had for its founder and head, Sir Thomas Fairfax, who 
 became, for services to the Crown, Earl of Fairfax, and Baron 
 of Cameron, somewhere about the year 1600. He was a 
 sagacious man, and held great sway in Yorkshire, where 
 lies Denton — my Denton it shall be again if there is money 
 enough in the province of Virginia to re-purchase it I You 
 do not understand, Captain Wagner, the feeling a man has 
 toward a place which not only his earliest years have been 
 passed in, but in which his house has lived for centuries. 
 I love Denton, its park, its chase, its hills, and flats and 
 forests; the old dining-room, the fencing gallery, the dogs 
 and horses — yes, the very rustle of the great oaks around 
 the door ! Well, sir, that estate, as I said, was taken from 
 mo, the entail was cut off by my guardians, who, I firmly 
 believe, wore bribed to betray my interests. And so the 
 prophecy was fulfilled. But I have not told you what that 
 
THE MASTER OF GREEN WAY COURT. 78 
 
 was. I have said that the founder of the Earldom was 
 Sir Thomas Fairfax, and he was the granlfather of the Par- 
 liamentary General, the "Tom Fairfax," of the civil war, 
 whom you have doubtless heard of — whose wife was present 
 at the mock 'trial of King Charles, and created so much con- 
 fusion by crying that her husband was too politic to be 
 there. But I digress. The character of his grandson, the 
 youug general, had often caused Sir Thomas anxiety, and 
 so clear-sighted was the old first earl, that he foresaw that 
 this young man would ruin the house of Fairfax. This was 
 put regularly upon record. Charles Fairfax, son of the 
 first Earl, wrote it down. The old gentleman, walking in 
 his great parlor at Denton, about the year 1640 — a century 
 ago — was much troubled. He said that something told him 
 that General Tom, and his descendants of the same name, 
 would bring the house of Fairfax to an end. It was fulfilled 
 General Fairfax alienated his family estate to marry into a 
 powerful house. A century afterward, I felt the effect of 
 his act, and Denton escaped from my hands — I am here." 
 
 The Earl paused and looked coldly through the window. 
 
 "And this exiled your lordship?" asked the Captain, 
 with sympathy; " this act of your guardians?" 
 
 "That and other things," replied Lord Fairfax, a dark 
 shadow passing over his brow. " My life has been unfor- 
 tunate and tragic; Fate has sported with me, and woven a 
 wild mesh to entangle me; I hav* been mastered in the 
 struggle, and struck me down. Bat I'll not yield ! Let a 
 million prophecies be hurled against me — let Fate do her 
 worst [ I'll struggle and contend with her till I die 1" 
 
 The Earl set his teeth close and was silent. 
 
 " That is right, my lord," said Captain Wagner, approv- 
 ingly: "no brave man knocks under. I do not myself, be> 
 lieve in prophecies, nor any such flummery — and even am 
 disbeliever in witchcraft." - 
 
 " I have had doubts myself, on the subject of this latter, 
 and no longer place as much confidence in astrology either, 
 
80 
 
 FAIRFAX; OR, 
 
 as I did formerly," said the Earl, coldly. " A great seer in 
 Italy informed me that I would recover Denton, and hence 
 my struggling thus in the teeth of fate. I will struggle so 
 to the end — and I will collect every pistole in this colony, but 
 I will have it back." 
 
 "You have a tolerable grant of land from his Majesty, 
 here, my lord, in place of the said Denton," replied Cap- 
 tain Wagner ; "why not be content ?" 
 
 "I am not content, because I am in fact a landless man. 
 t tell you, Captain Wagner, that as long as the oaks of Den- 
 ton are not mine — the old walls, the chase — everything — I'll 
 not rest." 
 
 " Well, all that is natural, my lord." 
 
 " Certainly. And now you will understand me perfectly. 
 [ own a fourth of Virginia, and I wish to sell it." 
 
 "Zounds!" said the Captain, "it's a glorious bit of land 
 to be in the market. I'd like to buy it. " 
 
 The Earl smiled gloomily. 
 
 "You may at least help me to make it attractive to set- 
 tlers, by grants to whom I aim at realizing what I need to 
 re-purchase Denton." 
 
 "An empire for a plantation!" said the Captain; "but 
 every man to his humor. Your lordship is the best judge of 
 your own wishes — now, I'd take Virginia — but that's noth- 
 ing. I don't deny that there are drawbacks in the shape 
 of bloody savages, but well grind 'em, or I'll eat my own 
 
 war * 
 
FHE MASTER OF GBEENWAY COUBTi 
 
 XVL 
 
 SOW CAPTAIN WAGNER DECLARED WAR ON HIS PRIVATE AOOOUN1 
 AGAINST LORD FAIRFAX. 
 
 HE stalwart Borderer uttered these word, with 
 so much energy and expression, that Lor', l air- 
 fax was diverted from his gloomy thorgtic*, and 
 smiled. It was the old grim smile n^rMjasl with 
 him; but this even was more pleasant th» v - Uie gloomy 
 shadow which lay before upon his lips aD 1 ' behead. 
 
 " Captain," he said, with his sardon:* expression, " per- 
 mit me to say that your inventioD r respect of oaths is 
 truly ■wonderful.'" 
 
 " Many thanks, my lord," reta** ed the Captain, evidently 
 pleased and nattered; "I fyfcv a small genius in that line 
 which my friends have oor T*£mentedJ But after all 'tis a 
 bad habit ! a bad haK/ 1 * 
 
 And the worth oked modestly down, with an expres- 
 sion of ^iL-jvik *elf depreciation which was a treat to the 
 aut or of -£&<» papers in the "Spectator." 
 
 "I agree vnla you, Captain," replied the Earl, coolly, 
 H but 'tis nothing to our present purpose. You have spokou 
 of the Indians in time. When I touch on the subject 01 
 Denton, and the wrong done to me, I am never in my right 
 mind. What do you counsel V speak plainly and without 
 paraphrases. I require the assistance of a man who knows 
 the habits of these devils, and who can plan. I don't care 
 to acknowledge that I am a mere nothing in council as Tom, 
 the General, was before me. I am irresolute — have a mor- 
 bid inertness clinging to my mind; it is only in the chase 
 that my nerves are strung, my brain clear and vigorous." 
 M I have seen as much in your lordship," said Captain 
 
82 
 
 FAIRFAX; OR, 
 
 Wagner. " Yon are irresolute, bnt would be an excellent 
 officer for a cavalry charge. 
 
 " Speak plainly," said the Earl, indifferently, " but when 
 you have finished with me, come to the threatened Indian 
 attack. I know nothing of these matters. Come, youi 
 counsel ! I have laid before you the particulars." 
 
 " My counsel is easily given, or the devil take me," said 
 the Captain. " 'Sdeath, my lord, I know these Injun ras- 
 cals; they hold pawpawing days the year round, and will be 
 on you like an avalanche some morning; you should prepare. 
 Send runners to the South Branch, with instructions to 
 assemble the men with all the pistols, cohorns, muskets, 
 rifles and carbines to be found: entrust commissions to them 
 for persons I will designate. Such men as Martin, Miller, 
 Howard, Walker, and Kutledge— direct the levies to be trained 
 in bush-fighting, in loading while running at full speed, and 
 in everything connected with a combat, and the instruments 
 of the said combat, down to the cutting off the necks of the 
 balls of the rifles. You have no time in an' attack to un- 
 breech and extract the ball — consequently a rifle is done up, 
 or the devil take me. I will repeat to your lordship all the 
 particulars, and you shall write them down, and entrust 
 them — with the commissions you have the right as County 
 Lieutenant to issue — to the runners. As to myself, I shall 
 remain here, partly on private affairs," said the Captain, 
 curling his moustache, " and partly because my services 
 may be needed here more than yonder. It is not out of 
 probability, even, that these devils will make their swoop 
 npon Cedar Cheek, and this portion of the manor, from the 
 mountains yonder toward the North west. Let 'em cornel" 
 
 " That is a wild country, is it not ?" 
 
 "The ruins of an overturned world, grown over with 
 grass and trees, and inhabited by panthers and Injuns,* 1 
 said Captain Wagner, succinctly. 
 
 "Pardy," said the Earl, with his grim look; "I think we 
 may expect them from that quarter." 
 
 "Tfearefore I shall remain here, my lord. Zounds! I will 
 
THE x MASTER OP GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 83 
 
 have an opportunity, even here, of breaking some skulls, I 
 warrant you : I hope so at least ; my hand is getting out ot 
 practice. Since I have stopped dragging at scalplocks and 
 eating buffalo hump I have felt badly. Give me an attack 
 soon, or by the devil's horns, I will rust to death V* 
 
 The stern smile came back to the Earl's face. He liked 
 to hear the sonorous voice, the martial oaths even, of the 
 rude soldier: they were but additional proofs that the in- 
 strument which gave forth such sounds must be robust and 
 strong. The Earl needed Captain Wagner; he had esti- 
 mated his own character — its strength and weakness — with 
 perfect exactness. Brave, impetuous, even wholly fearless 
 when aroused, he was yet morbidly irresolute when un- 
 moved — could not bring himself to any determination — had 
 scarcely power to decide upon the most obvious courses. 
 He would often spend long, weary, miserable hours thus, in 
 his great dining-room, his head resting on his hand, his 
 thoughts wandering back to the past, or forward to the fu- 
 ture; and would only rouse himself at last to dash off to the 
 forest, there to drown his morbid feelings in the excitements 
 of the chase, as other men do in the stimulant of wine. 
 Thus the sight of Captain Wagner was always welcome to 
 the Earl; he was glad to hear the loud voice, the rattle of 
 spurs, the clatter of the sword; they kept him from think- 
 ing. He needed a counsellor, too, as has been seen, and 
 thus the soldier stood high in the Earl's regards. 
 
 "Well, remain!" he said, in reply to the Captain's last 
 words, "I shall have need for you in other matters, not so 
 warlike." 
 
 " In what, pray, my lord ?" 
 
 " They speak of a trial for witchcraft here soon.** 
 
 "Who?" 
 
 " These gentlemen justices of Frederick, or rather one ol 
 them, a Mr. Gideon Hastyluck." 
 
 "I know him. A crop-eared rascal!" said the Captain; 
 'ftemndsl one itches to kiok him — this Master Hastyluek. 
 
84 
 
 FAIRFAX ■ OB, 
 
 or Haste- thee-Luke, as he was formerly called. But who OB 
 the earth is to be charged with witchcraft f" 
 M An old settler here in the Fort Mountain." 
 
 "His name?" 
 
 " Powell," said the Earl. 
 
 " Old Powell ? what folly I A more peaceful man I nevei 
 knew." 
 
 k "Well, I take no part in the affair; let the gentlemen 
 justices follow their own ideas." 
 
 " They have none, my lord; they really have not, many 
 of them, capacity to follow their noses, even." 
 
 " I am sorry therefor, inasmuch as I shall have to submit 
 to them, very soon, a proposition in which I am interested." 
 
 " What is that ?" 
 
 "I wish the county seat of Frederick County to be 
 Stephensburg, over here." 
 
 " Well, my lord," said the Captain, collecting his forces. 
 
 "Well, there are gentlemen who desire that Winchester 
 should be selected." 
 
 " And ladies too, pardy 1" 
 
 "What, Captain?" 
 
 " Nothing, my lord ; I only said that there were ladies 
 who wished Winchester to be chosen." 
 "Indeed! why?" 
 " Who have property there." 
 
 "I regret it; but I cannot yield; my interests all point to 
 Stephensburg." 
 
 "Let us argue that point, my lord," said the Captain; "I 
 know that Stephensburg, from its position, as " 
 
 "Enough, Captain," said the Earl, indifferently; "spare 
 your logic, I have determined to have the county seat at 
 Stephensburg, if my influence can compass it." 
 
 " Good ! then it only remains for me, in due and honor- 
 able form, to declare war on my private account against 
 your lordship in this affair." 
 
 "Tour said Fairfax. ^ 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY OOUBfE 
 
 86 
 
 "Myself," 
 
 " You wish Winchester to be selected Y' 
 
 Yes, indeed, my lord." 
 "Why?" 
 
 " For private reasons." 
 
 " Ah ! a lady is concerned; I have heard of your gallantry 
 very often, Captain. A lady!" 
 
 " I do not deny it, my lord," said the Captain. 
 
 "Well, I am sorry to say that I cannot oblige yoursell 
 and your fair friend in this matter. I have determined on 
 Stephensburg." 
 
 "And I, my lord," said Captain Wagner, "have deter- 
 mined on Winchester. Zounds ! with, all possible respect 
 for your earlship, Winchester shall be the county seat." 
 
 The melancholy smile flitted over Fairfax's face. 
 
 "How will you compass it?" he said, "I have a majority 
 of the justices already in my favor." 
 
 " How large a majority, pray, my lord ?" 
 
 The Earl smiled again. 
 
 " You seem to forget that you have declared war," he said, 
 " but this moment. I will afford an enemy no information, 
 whatsoever." 
 
 " Ah, that is just, or may the devil take me — right, right ! 
 I must do my own nosing-out, I see — and faith, as your lord- 
 ship has so much the start of me, I will commence at once." 
 
 " And I promise not to bear the least grudge, Captain, if 
 you succeed, since we are fairly pitted, arms in hand." 
 
 " Except that my sword is shattered to the hilt, when I 
 enter the contest; yours whole and sharp." 
 
 "It is the fortune of war: so much the more glory if you 
 overcome me. 
 
 "Very well, my lord. I promise you to give you a hard 
 fight, and from this moment I sound the trumpet," said tht 
 Captain, rising. 
 
 " Where are you going?" said the Ear 1 
 
86 
 
 FAIRFAX; OR, 
 
 "I decline to reply," returned the Captain, cunningly; "] 
 follow your excellency." 
 
 "Not a bad hit, upon my honor; you are invaluable to 
 me, Captain; you alone of all my friends make me laugh. 
 Go then: but let us empty a cup before your departure." 
 
 "Willingly, my lord." 
 
 And so Captain Wagner tarried and emptied a fair flag 
 gon of Jamaica — wine he cared not for — to his own success, 
 Then assuring his lordship that on the next day, the in- 
 structions for the border settlers would be ready for him, 
 the Captain mounted his horse, and took the load to 
 Ordinary. 
 
1, 
 
 THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COUBfc 
 
 87 
 
 xvn. 
 
 MONSIEUR JAMBOT'S DEATH'S HEABk 
 
 N the main apartment of Mynheer Van Doring'a 
 Ordinary, the fair Mrs. Butterton is dancing a 
 galliard to the music of Monsieur Auguste Hy- 
 polite tTambot's fiddle. 
 That gentleman is clad in a picturesque coat with barrel 
 cuffs turned back to the elbows, a blue satin waistcoat fit- 
 ting tightly to his thin, slight figure, and pumps adorned, 
 in place of buckles, with immense rosettes of red ribbon. 
 Monsieur Jambot is thus very picturesque — but the widow is 
 resplendent. She is dressed in all the colors of the rainbow; 
 she wears rings, breastpins and bracelets without number; 
 and when she lifts her skirt gracefully in the animated 
 dance, the other hand balanced akimbo on her side, she 
 makes a full display of a pair of substantial ankles cased 
 in real silk stockings, and large, serviceable feet plunged 
 in slippers of immense elegance. 
 
 The dance comes to an end, and the fair widow fans 
 herse f, saying: 
 
 " How did I get through, Monsieur ? M 
 "Elegant! elegant!" cried Monsieur Jarabot, "but nex' 
 time you shall step not so quick, not so jig, ma chere madame !" 
 "Not so what t" asked the fair widow, laughing. 
 "Ah, my poor head!" said Monsieur J"«nxbot, ceasing for 
 a moment to tune his violin, in order to pross his forehead 
 with a theatrical air; "my poor head — I no understand 
 V Anglais ; I mean you step out too — ▼'bat v<?v <jaP 
 wte, too quick, too spirited: voild le mo* /'* 
 u Well, let us try again." 
 "Same, madame?" 
 
88 
 
 FAIRFAX J OB, 
 
 "Oil, yes ! are you tired of it?" 
 
 "Ah, non, non — I could not be tired of you when you 
 dance." 
 
 " You are very gallant, Monsieur." 
 "C'est vrai!" 
 
 " Well, then, play for me again. Do you like that tunc ? ' 
 w, Tis beautiful." 
 
 M I think so too. So you are willing to try again ?" 
 " Bavi !" 
 
 And Monsieur Jambot struck up a lively air, and Mistress 
 Butterton tripped gaily down the room to the quick music, 
 her arms akimbo, her wrist bent and resting on her side, 
 her eyes sparkling, her red-heeled shoes merrily clattering 
 on the brightly scoured floor. 
 
 " Ah, c'est grand /" cried Monsieur Jambot; " you might 
 dance the contre dance before his Majeste Louis le Grand 
 himself." 
 
 " I'm glad to hear it," said Mrs. Butterton, fanning her- 
 self, and casting a languishing glance upon her companion — 
 it was to keep herself in practice — "I am glad you think so: 
 for I shall go to a number of frolics before returning to Bel- 
 haven, and I wish to show the folks up here the difference 
 between the town and the country. I must not dance any 
 more jig tunes, for they dance them very well here: now a 
 minuet is so much better: that is a court dance!" 
 
 "A royal dance, madamel But parole d'honneur, you 
 dance minuet most elegant." 
 
 " Oh, you jest 1" 
 
 "Jest? never!" 
 
 "Shall we try one, then?" 
 
 " Out, madame : I will play and dance also." 
 
 When Monsieur Jambot danced the minuet he became, 
 for the time, a different person, so loftily did he hold his 
 powdered head, with so graceful and stately an amenity did 
 he move on the points of his high-heeled shoes to the slow, 
 gliding music. This change now passed over his counte* 
 
THE MASTER OF OREENWAY. COURT. 
 
 89 
 
 nance and manner. He held his violin as a monarth does 
 his sceptre; he took up, then laid down his cocked hat, as 
 an emperor would his crown; his whole person became at 
 once stiff and supple, erect and inclined. The lady was not 
 behind-hand. She drew herself up in a stately way, as- 
 sumed a gracious and condescending smile, and raised grace- 
 fully her long skirt, ready to step forward at the first notes 
 of the violin. 
 
 Monsieur Jambot commenced with a low prelude, full of 
 elegance. The instrument, which had at first shook from its 
 strings a bright shower of laughing and sparkling notes in 
 the gay gavotte, keeping perfect time to the rattle of the 
 lady's slippers on the floor of the apartment, now changed 
 its tone completely, as if ashamed of such inane gaiety and 
 unseemly mirth. It now gave forth a slow, ceremonious 
 strain, such as was fit and proper for great lords and ladies 
 in princely hall assembled, to bow and courtesy to each 
 other by : even for kings to incline their royal heads to in a 
 graceful, royal way, leading out princesses in gilded, picture 
 walled saloons. 
 
 As to Monsieur Jambot, he seemed to be perfectly happy, 
 he could play and dance very well at the same time, and on 
 this occasion he excelled himself. He glided, he ambled, he 
 simpered, he bowed, his very eyes seemed to be full of 
 music, and to be ready to dissolve away in fluttering de- 
 light. Those eyes were fixed upon the fair widow, and they 
 expressed, in a way quite unmistakable, the condition of the 
 owner's heart — the state of his feelings. It was very plain, 
 trom those languishing, and admiring glances, that Mon- 
 sieur Jambot was a victim to the belle passion, as he called 
 it; and would rather prefer to die for her than otherwise. 
 
 Not to do injustice to the fair widow's discrimination, we 
 will add that she understood both the look and the state of 
 Monsieur Jambot's feelings perfectly well. She was well 
 assured that he was one of her most ardent adorers, and 
 &*t he aspired to her hand; but whether this hand was to 
 
90 
 
 FAIRFAX; OK, 
 
 be reduced into possession by the dancing-master, or by 
 * Captain Wagner, the reader will discover in due time. 
 
 And now they approached each other in the graceful 
 dance, bowing, smiling, and rolling their eyes — in which 
 , Utter exercise we must say Monsieur Jambot very far ex- 
 celled his fair friend — and the music seemed to sigh forth a 
 species of luxurious delight. The lady, with her skirt raised 
 with one hand, the other hand, ot rather the wrist thereof, 
 resting on her side — executed profuse bows, and so to the 
 triumphant fiddle of Monsieur Jambot, the dance went on 
 its way in triumph. 
 
 He wound up the minuet with a graceful flourish, impro- 
 vised for the occasion, and full of beauty; and in the ex- 
 citement of the moment, sank upon his knees before the 
 fair lady, grasping her plump hand, which hand he pressed 
 rapturously to his lips. The lady stood calmly fanning her- 
 self with her disengaged hand, and looking at her admirer 
 with a roguish twinkle in her eyes. 
 
 The parties were arranged in this elegant and striking 
 tableau, when suddenly the widow turned abruptly, and 
 Monsieur Jambot rose angrily, brushing his knees. These 
 movements were caused by a very simple circumstance, a 
 circumstance which assuredly, in the ordinary course of hu- 
 man events, was not calculated to overwhelm one, or cause 
 any profound astonishment. Not to keep the reader longer 
 in ignorance, the lady and her admirer had been startled by 
 the arrival of a third personage, and this arrival was an- 
 nounced by the form of words : 
 
 " Snout of the dragon ! what do I see I Kneeling, or the 
 devil fly away with me I*' 
 
 And Captain Wagner, the hoof-strokes of whose horse had 
 been drowned by the music of the violin, stalked ink) the 
 room — a dreadful frown upon his brow, his martial spurs 
 jingling as he strode, his heavy sword half drawn, and clat- 
 tering portentously against his legs, cased in thei? heavy 
 boot* 
 
THE MASTER OP GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 91 
 
 xvnx 
 
 HOW OAPTATN WAGNER PREDICTED HIS FUTURE FAME. 
 
 ^ONSIEUE JAMBOT drew himself up, and ex« 
 claimed in a theatrical tone : 
 "Malediction !" 
 
 " What is that you say, sir V said Captain Wag- 
 ner, sternly. " I do not understand your barbarous lingo, 
 though Mistress Butterton seems to comprehend it perfectly, 
 or the devil seize me I" 
 
 And Captain Wagner threw upon the fair widow a look 
 which nearly took away her breath. She scarcely knew 
 what to reply, and found all her presence of mind unequal 
 to the task of repelling the valiant Captain, and asserting 
 her own right of action. She finally decided to burst into 
 tears. 
 
 "You are a cruel man! that you are, Captain," she 
 sobbed, " to speak to me in that way — that you are V* 
 
 The Captain was proof against tears; he knew the sex, as 
 he often said, and was not to be moved by such trifles. 
 
 " I was not addressing you, madam," he said, frowning, 
 "but this gentleman, who used toward me the highly in- 
 jurious term, malediction. In the whole course of my life, 
 madam, I have never been called a malediction by any one 
 before, and I now inform Mr. Jambo, that whatever may be 
 the fashion in his own frog-eating country, in this country 
 when one man calls another a malediction, it is a declaration 
 of mortal enmity — in which light I receive it I" 
 
 " Sacre!" groaned Monsieur Jambot, between his clenched 
 teeth, " ce maudii capitaine! I will fight him — I will abolish 
 him from ze face of zis earth 1" 
 
92 
 
 KAIEFAX; Oft, 
 
 u Abolish me F cried Captain Wagner, indignatly ; " maj 
 the devil take me, but we shall see. I have beard that you 
 teach fencing, Mr. Jambo, as well as capering; well, draw 
 your sword, pardy, or I will nail you, Monsieur, to that 
 table F 
 
 Monsieur Jambot jumped back, for Captain Wagner'f 
 sword flashed forth like lightning from its scabbard. 
 
 "Your sword! your sword!" cried the Captain. 
 
 Monsieur Jambot was no coward; and now thoroughly 
 aroHsed by the presence and insults of his hated rival, he ex- 
 ecuted two steps, professionally speaking, to the mantel- 
 piece, and took down a good rapier which hung there among 
 pepper-pods, balls of twine, and ears of corn; with which he 
 turned and faced his adversary. 
 
 "Begar!" he cried, in a great rage, "\ve shall see what 
 we shall see F 
 
 But before the Captain could put himself into position, a 
 loud screech was heard, and Mrs. Butterton rushed between 
 them with tears and sobs. 
 
 " Oh, for mercy's sake F she cried, " oh, no fighting — oh 
 you must not ! Captain — Mr. Jambot — you shall not ! Put 
 up your swords — this moment! — or — or — I shall — faint — 
 my smelling-bottle — in — my — room — Monsieur — J am ! — 
 Cap!" 
 
 "With which faintly-uttered words the lady closed her 
 eyes ; then her form swayed backward and forward, her 
 head drooped, her feet bent beneath her, and just a3 Mon- 
 sieur Jambot, with all the gallantry of the Frenchman and 
 the lover, rushed from the room to bring the smelling-bottle, 
 she yielded to " nerves," and sank back into the sturdy arms 
 of the valiant Captain. 
 
 " Oh, how could you F she said, languidly opening hei 
 eyes a moment afterward, and drawing back. 
 
 " A thousand apologies, my dearest madam — I have dona 
 wrong — forgive me F groaned her admirer. 
 
 " Ok, Captain 1" murmured the lady. 
 
FAIRFAX; OB, 
 
 93 
 
 M But to see your beautiful hand pressed to another's lips I 
 — to see another kneeling to you, which individual you might 
 in another moment have raised from his knees — May the fiend 
 seize me, madam 1" cried Captain Wagner, "but I will yet have 
 my revenge on taat perfidious rival — revenge, revenge 1" 
 
 The lady drew back pettishly. 
 
 " You care nothing for me," she sobbed, " I am angry, sir 
 and I won't be treated so, sir. You treat me too badly— 
 that you do." 
 
 " Tears !" cried Captain Wagner, tearing his hair, " tears 
 caused by me !" 
 " Yes, sir, by you." 
 
 " By me — the most devoted of your admirers— of your — 
 
 yes, of your " 
 
 '* Enemies — yes, the most bitter enemy I have." 
 "Madam!" 
 
 "You would kill my friends, because they are my 
 friends. " 
 "No, no." 
 
 "You would fight Monsieur Jambot." 
 "He is a good swordsman, I know well." 
 "And if he is ?" 
 
 "He might run through the midriff me myself— the most 
 faithful of adorers; but that would be nothing," added Cap- 
 tain Wagner, gloomily; "a broken heart and a clay-cold 
 corpse go well together." 
 
 " Whose heart is broken, sir ?" 
 
 "Mine, madam, by your coldness — your unkindness." 
 " Captain," sighed the lady. 
 
 "You turn all my virtues into faults, or may the devil 
 take me !" 
 
 " Oh," remonstrated the lady. 
 
 " If I show jealousy, you laugh at me; if I wish to driv« 
 off other — yes, other rivals, madam, you quarrel with ma" 
 "I have not quarrelled." 
 
94 
 
 FAIRFAX ; OR, 
 
 " You feign not to perceive that 1 am the most devoted 
 of" 
 
 The lady turned aside her head: the Captain pressed to 
 his lips the hand which was abandoned to him: the otner 
 covered her face. Just at this moment, Monsieur Jambot 
 re-entered, and stood transfixed with horror. 
 
 As Captain Wagner, in his profound wrath and astonish- 
 ment, had cried out violently: "Snout of the Dragon V — > 
 so now, Monsieur Jambot, with rage quite as profound, sa- 
 luted his adversary with the words : 
 
 " Milles diabks ! what do I see ?" 
 
 The Captain twirled his moustache. 
 
 " You see me," he said, curtly. 
 
 " And who are you, sacre ?" 
 
 " Captain Julius Wagner, at your service, sir." 
 
 " Captain Waggeneur, you shall answer to me zis 1" cried 
 Monsieur Jambot. 
 
 " Answer what ?" 
 
 "For your insult to me," replied the Frenchman, adroitly 
 
 avoiding a commital of himself. 
 
 "I will answer anything," said the Captain. But perceiv- 
 ing the eyes of the fair widow fixed beseechingly upon him: 
 " still," he continued, " I am not aware, Monsieur Jambot, 
 that I have insulted you half so grossly as you have me ?" 
 
 "Comment!" 
 
 " Did you not characterize me as a malediction ? answer 
 me that." 
 
 " But," eaid the lady, delighted to see the two adversaries 
 gradually cooling and speaking in more amicable tones, 
 " that is not an insult, I am sure, Captain. Malediction is 
 — I don't know exactly what — but it is not an insult." 
 
 "If that is the case, madam, and Monsieur Jambo has 
 not insulted me by this malediction t I am ready to end our 
 quarrel." 
 
 Monsieur Jambot bowed with ceremony. 
 "It shall end," he said, coldly. 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 "Good!" continued the Captain, "and now, madam, let 
 me proceed to business. I am here purely on business." 
 
 Monsieur Jambot hearing these words, understood that it 
 would not .be polite for him to remain: so taking his fiddle 
 from the floor, and restoring the rapier to its place, he be* 
 took himself to the porch, where, seated on the wooden 
 bench, he discoursed sweet music, soft enough to penetrate 
 the very heart of his mistress. 
 
 " Business, Captain ?" asked the lady, seating herself near 
 the table. 
 
 "Business, madam," said Captain Wagner, taking out a 
 paper, upon which were written, in huge, sprawling letters 
 with a pencil, a number of names; "your business." 
 
 And he seated himself on the opposite side of the narrow 
 table, spreading out the paper between them. 
 
 " My business ?" 
 
 " Yes, madam — that which brought you to the Valley." 
 
 "Oh, my lots?" 
 
 "In Winchester — yes. ' 
 
 " I now recollect your kind offer of assistance. La ! Cap- 
 tain, you put yourself to a heap of trouble." 
 
 And the lady gently agitated her fan of swan's feathers, 
 gazing thereon. 
 
 " Trouble ? no, nothing is trouble for which we expect to 
 be munificently paid, pardy !" 
 
 The lady cast down her eyes with a blush. 
 
 " Thus, then, it is," said the Captain, leaning over the 
 table, and caressing his martial moustache, as with his 
 enormous hand he pointed out the names written on the 
 paper in a double row, " thus it is. At the next meeting of 
 the Honorable Justices of the County of Frederick— which 
 county, by the horns of the devil ! — excuse me, madam — 
 should be a kingdom, for it reaches from the Blue Bidge 
 here to the Mississippi — at the next meeting of the Court 
 here, madam, the county seat, as you well know, will be 
 
06 
 
 FAIRFAX J Oft, 
 
 determined on. It will be either Stephensburg over there^ 
 
 or Winchester " 
 
 " Yes, Captain." 
 
 " And your interest," said the Captain, in a business tone, 
 • f points to Winchester ?" 
 
 " Yes, indeed — I have some excellent lots there, as I hav$ 
 before told you." 
 
 " Good ! well, I have determined, as I informed you, 
 madam, that Winchester shall be the place." 
 
 " La ! Captain ! — but how can you — there is Lord Fair 
 fax, a sweet nobleman, I am sure, but he is determined to 
 have Stephensburg chosen." 
 
 " Whether Lord Fairfax is a sweet nobleman or not, mj 
 dear madam, is not the question : nor which of these two 
 places he inclines to. I have time before court-day, and 
 I will use it in your favor." 
 
 " Oh, thank you — you are very good." 
 "No: by no means: as I said before, my reward wil'i 
 come from you. But that is beside the question. I pro- 
 cured from your worthy father, whom I met on the road 
 coming hither, these names of the justices. You will per- 
 ceive that they aro very nearly balanced equally — for and 
 against Winchester. Two names, you see, are marked 
 Doubtful. They are those of Argal and Hastyluck." 
 
 The Captain leaned over the table, as did the lady: they 
 were a great contrast : he with his dark, martial face, black 
 moustache, and grotesque humor in the eyes, buried under 
 their shaggy brows; she with her fair, plump face, and red 
 lips, and affected simper. Their eyes met, and an odd 
 smile passed over the features of each. 
 
 " I will bring over Argal and Hastyluck," said Captaiu 
 Wagner, watching his companion like a dog with head 
 lowered, " and Winchester will be chosen." 
 "In spite of Lord Fairfax?" 
 " Yes, indeed; in spite of everything I" 
 "You are so kindl" 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 97 
 
 M Ha, ha !" 
 
 u You are th§ most disinterested person in the world." 
 "No, I am selfish." 
 "Lai Captain." 
 
 " And in proof of it I shall claim the reward for my ser* 
 rices." 
 
 The lady blushed, casting down her eyes. 
 " Will you grant me what I ask, should I succeed ?" 
 " Oh, Captain," murmured his companion, with a flutter- 
 ing heart. 
 " If it is reasonable ?" 
 "If — it — is reasonable — y — es," 
 
 "Good!" cried Captain Wagner, rising, and bringing 
 his fist down on the table, like a battering ram, "then Win- 
 chester shall, from this time, be the county-seat, and shall 
 grow wealthy, and increase in population and in size, and in 
 importance and in glory! Yes, I have determined upon 
 that! Stephensburg shall have its foolish ambition over- 
 turned; for the more I ponder upon the matter, the more 
 proper does it seem that Winchester — where your lots are, 
 my dearest madam — should be the capital town of this great 
 county. I rejoice, not only for my own present sake and 
 yours, that such will be the event: but I see with pride that 
 brilliant future, when the name of Captain Julius Wagner 
 will be loved and respected by thousands now unborn: 
 when they will possibly erect statues to him here in this 
 beautiful land; and where — who knows? — some one of that 
 idle and disreputable, but still useful class called authors, 
 shall write out an account of my services in this matter, and 
 print them with types such as are used for books, and so in- 
 form the world of my patriotism ! — yes, of my chivalry, my 
 devotedness, my — hum! I think I see that bright day 
 coming, and I shall leave in my will a sum of money with 
 which my children, or grandchildren — if I have any, which 
 heaven grant ! — shall pay one of those scribblers, or Grub 
 streets, as I have heard them called, to write about my Ufa 
 
 6 
 
FAIRFAX; OB, 
 
 And therein, madam, your virtues will shine 1 therein yon 
 will be rendered, from your connection with myself, immor- 
 tal ! — therein we will go down to posterity hand in hand, 
 as I trust we shall do, even — hum ? — my horse there V* 
 cried the Captain, breaking oft* in the middle of his eloquent 
 speech. 
 
 " I am going," he added; " and now rest in peaee, mad 
 Am. Your interests are mine." 
 
 With which speech Captain Wagner took his lea?®. 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY OOUBT. 
 
 99 
 
 XIX. 
 
 OLD MEMORIES. 
 
 HILE these scenes were occuring at the Ordin 
 ary, the master of Greonway Court, leaned back 
 in his tall carved chair, absorbed in gloomy 
 thought 
 
 His pale face indicated some concealed emotion— his lips 
 were contracted sorrowfully, and the long eyelashes rested 
 on his pallid cheek. He remained long thus buried in 
 thought ; and then wearily rose erect in his seat and 
 sighed. 
 
 *' Strange ! very strange !" the Earl muttered, " that fatal 
 likeness ! Never have I seen reproduced in human face 9 
 more perfect resemblance to another ! Falconbridge ? Fal- 
 conbridge ? Whence does he come ? Pshaw ! why should 
 I wish to find out? 'Tis one of those fancies whict 
 seize on men at times : and yet I swear, as I bent 
 over him, when something drove me in the dead of night to 
 his chamber, I could have taken my oath that the face was 
 the very same — eyes, lips and everything ! How like, too, 
 the courage which made him spring up and pursue mel 
 There I recognize the likeness again, as in the form — in the 
 spirit as in the outward lineaments. Strange world! — 
 strange life I" 
 
 And for some moments the Earl remained silent, his 
 breast shaken with sighs ; his lips quivering. Then he 
 seemed to realize the folly of his emotion : and by a great 
 effort controlled himself. 
 
 " "What madness 1" he murmured, " thus to yield to the 
 ghost of the past, and shake like Hamlet at a shadow 1 I'll 
 be stronger and colder. He will come to-day or to-morrow, 
 and I mutt not excite attention by my manner. I most gov- 
 
100 
 
 FAIRFAX; OR, 
 
 ern myself. Yes— th« past mu^t be buried : it is gone. 
 Why rake in the ashes for burnt out hopes and memories 1 
 I am thousands of leagues from the scenes of other days 
 — let me not recall them ; let them sleep I" 
 
 And rising, the Earl put on his hat and gloves, and fol- 
 lowed by hi ^ stag-hounds, wan«4©rod forth to the prairie, still 
 pondering, and pursuing Ins secret thoughts. 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 101 
 
 XX. 
 
 FIEST LOVE. 
 
 EORGE pushed his horse gaily up the mountain 
 road, and ere long reached the spur upon which 
 was situated the cabin of his singular host of the 
 day before. 
 
 As he approached it he observed above the great rock in 
 rear, a light cloud of smoke which puzzled him greatly. It 
 plainly did not issue from the chimney of the house ; and as 
 no outbuildings were attached to the cabin, the smoke could 
 not be that oi the kitchen. Still, there it was : an unmis- 
 takable cloud, rising slowly it seemed from the very fissure 
 of the great mass of rock, and gentlr floating away among 
 the fir trees. 
 
 George was still occupied with this singular phenomenon, 
 when all at once a form appeared at the door of the house 
 which routed all his speculations, and gave him something 
 else to think about. 
 
 It was the figure of Cannie : and in an instant the youth 
 had thrown himself from his horse, and held in his own one 
 of the soft hands of the girl, which she abandoned to him 
 with her old air of grave sweetness and simplicity. There 
 was much less constraint in her air now, however, than at 
 first. She had evidently become acquainted with George • 
 and thus her greeting was more familiar and unceremo- 
 nious. 
 
 <£ I'm so glad you have come !" she said simply, "I did noi 
 expect to see you so soon." 
 
 "I thought you might be sick from your wetting," he 
 replied with a smile, as he looked into the pure sweet faca 
 
 Cannie smiled in return. 
 
102 
 
 FAIRFAX ; 03, 
 
 " Oh no \" she said, " I am very well, I think, though 1 
 certainly have caught cold — but I am subject to colds." 
 
 With which she coughed slightly ; and led the way into 
 the house. 
 
 " I don't see your father," said George, " is he absent?" 
 
 *'He is my grandfather," returned Cannie, in her low, 
 musical voice ; " and he is not far — shall I call him?" 
 
 " Oh no ! unless you're already very tired of me — Can- 
 nie." 
 
 George uttered the girl's name with a slight tremor in his 
 voice ; and the tell-tale blood rushed to his cheek as he 
 gazed at her. Cannie exhibited no similar emotion — indeed 
 seemed, rather, very much pleased at this absence of cere- 
 mony. 
 
 "I beg your pardon for mv familiarity," said George, 
 blushing. "I scarcely knew I was speaking so — calling you 
 plain ' Cannie.' " 
 
 " Beg my pardon ?" said the girl, in a tone of surprise, 
 " why should you ? I wish you always to call me Cannie, if 
 you please. We are frienda — and you know that you saved 
 my life." 
 
 The words were uttered very simply and sweetly, — so 
 sweetly indeed that George heard the tones of her voice 
 many hours afterwards. His confusion disappeared entirely 
 ere long : and proposing to Cannie a stroll on the mountain 
 side — a proposition to which she at once assented — the boy 
 and the girl were very soon rambling beneath the magnifi- 
 cent foliage of the autumn forest. 
 
 Bright hours full of magical tints and odors ! — filled with 
 ho much romance and delight ! They became a portion of 
 his memory and heart : and long afterwards, far away in 
 other scenes of hardship and pain, he remembered them, and 
 sighed for his bright boyhood. They wandered away along 
 the mountain side thus, with no aim in their wanderings, no 
 consciousness of the sentiment that was ripening in their 
 feaarts. George only knew that Qannie was there at his 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 103 
 
 Bide with her pure sweet face, and kind good eyes ; her hps 
 full of cheerful, loving smiles ; her voice like soft music in his 
 ears. When she rested on his arm in crossing some moun- 
 tain rivulet, or gave him her hand to mount to the summit 
 of a rock, George felt, he knew not why, a singular beating 
 of the heart, and his cheeks flushed without the least rea- 
 son. 
 
 Bright days of youth ! — brighter thoughts of the neart 1 
 They are flowers that bloom but once, and then die. "What 
 remains is the wiry stalk and bald head. It may contain the 
 seed, but the odor and the bloom, whe^re are they ? 
 
 So George and Cannie wandered away for hours : and the 
 golden autumn day sank into their hearts, and filled them 
 with its magical delight. When they came back home, they 
 were silent, and happy. It seemed but a moment since they 
 had left the house. 
 
 In the main room they encountered the old man. 
 
 " Grandpapa," said Cannie, " here is George." 
 
 The old man returned the young man's greeting with easy 
 courtesy. They then commenced conversing, Cannie joining 
 easily in their talk. 
 
 In the midst of one of the speaker's sentences, George ob- 
 served a glittering object lying on the floor. It was a car- 
 ditis, as the gold coin was then called, and George picked it, 
 up. To his astonishment it was atmost hot : and his look, 
 as he held it out, betrayed his wonder. His host took it \f ith 
 a sardonic smile, which George afterwards remembered. 
 
 " It is a coin I have just been experimenting on," said the 
 old man ; " I dropped it and forgot to pick it up. I am a 
 eavant, or chymist, Master George, you must understand. I 
 experiment on gold and silver. You no doubt saw tho 
 smoke from my furnace up there— and so lot us turn to some- 
 thing more interesting." 
 
 With these words the speaker calmly put the coin in his 
 pocket, and changed the topic with the ease and grace of a 
 thorough man of the world George had never heard sucb 
 
104 
 
 FAIRFAX ; OR, 
 
 brilliant and profound talk from any one ; and for more than 
 an hour he sat listening with delight to the absorbing mono- 
 logue of the stranger. 
 
 It was not until evening that the youth took bis depart- 
 ure ; and theo it was with a promise that he would come 
 again. 
 
 " Eemember I am lonely," said Cannie, smiling and giving 
 him her hand, " as grandpapa is often busy. Come bac> 
 soon!" 
 
 George required no urging, amd all the way Dack fcc 
 Greenway, heard her voice. 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COUBT. 106 
 
 XXL 
 
 CAPTAIN WAGNER GOlfS TO CALL ON HIS FRIENDS. 
 
 HEN Captain Wagner undertook to perform any- 
 thing, he was accustomed to set about it with a 
 rapidity and energy almost fatal, in the very be- 
 ginning, to an opponent of sluggish disposition. 
 The Captain had come to the Valley of Virginia at the 
 bidding of Lord Fairfax, to assist that nobleman' with his 
 counsel in the troublous days which were plainly lowering 
 on the border: and in so doing, the soldier had only acted 
 in conformity with his views of duty, and his war-instincts. 
 As the Indian attack was evidently delayed for the time, 
 however, as no breeze brought to the huge ears of the 
 frontiersman the rumor of battle, as he was doomed to in- 
 activity for the moment, and was not needed by his lord- 
 ship — under this state of things it seemed to thft Captain 
 that his most rational employment would be a diligent ap- 
 plication of his energies to the cause of Mrs. Butterton, with 
 the prospective view of inducing that lady to become Mrs. 
 Wagner, into which changed state she would doubtless 
 carry with her, her thousand " desirabilities." 
 
 These reflections had occurred to the soldier at his first 
 interview, and we have been present at his formal declara- 
 tion of war against Thomas, Lord Fairfax, Baron of Cam- 
 eron, and Lord Lieutenant of Frederick and the shires 
 adjacent. 
 
 The Captain, after leaving Mrs. Butterton as we have seen 
 kim do, immediately set about h.s task. 
 
 He instituted inquiries upon all sides; procured a full list 
 of the justices, with the greater part of whom he was per- 
 
106 
 
 FAIRFAX; OB, 
 
 fectly well acquainted; and with this basis of operations, 
 and the comfortable }ssurance that there was quite a formi- 
 dable party against Stephensburg and Lord Fairfax, and 
 consequently in favor of Winchester and Mrs. Butterton, 
 cheerfully took to the iiigh road, and commenced his 
 rounds. 
 
 It is not the purpoce >f this nistory to follow the valiant 
 Captain and great negotiator in his campaign, or to repeat 
 in detail the various and ev^r-ready arguments which he 
 used to impress his friends with the importance of selecting 
 the village of Winchester for the county-seat. Perhaps we 
 lose a most favorable opportunity of showing the tremen- 
 dous energy and conspicuous ingenuity of Captain Longknif e, 
 by passing thus over a series of scenes in which he was im- 
 pressive and indefatigable — but, unfortunately, we are not 
 now writing the history of Winchester. 
 
 It is enough, then, to say that the Captain returned to the 
 Ordinary, three or four days afterwards, with a countenance 
 in which might easily have been discerned an expression of 
 much pride and triumph. 
 
 "Faith, madam!" he said, bending down and pressing 
 gallantly to his lips the plump hand of Mistress Butterton, 
 who smiled, and murmured, " La, Captain !" and covered 
 her face with her fan, " faith, madam ! I begin to think that 
 I ought to have undertaken more in your behalf — to have 
 the county-seat moved to Belhaven, or, as these new-fangled 
 folks begin to call it, Alexandria, or even to Williamsburg, 
 or the village of Bichmond, or any other town in which you 
 may have property ! Be easy on the subject, my dear mad- 
 am, for this very morning I am going to finish everything. 
 I'm going to see Argal, and that rascal Hastyluck, and I 
 want company. Where's your gallant acquaintance, Fal- 
 eonbridge, our mutual friend ?" 
 
 The lady smiled, and with an innocent air, said : 
 
 ts I think he has gone before you, Captain." 
 
 "Gone before?" 
 
THE MASTEft OF GREENWAt COURT. 10? 
 
 "To Mr. Argal's." 
 And the lady laughed. 
 
 "Kather to Miss Argal's," said the Captain, frowning t and 
 looking thoughtfuL 
 "Yes." 
 
 "He's in lave!" 
 "Is he r 
 
 " Dead in love ! What a foolish fellow I" 
 
 " Hem I" said Mrs. Butterton, gently, and with a danger* 
 ous look, " do you think that is very foolish, Captain ?" 
 
 " It would not be in your case, beautiful and * 
 
 " Oh, Captain !" . ,y 
 
 "May the ! — well, that's wrong: but I will maintain, with 
 fire and sword, the good sense of the individual who falls in 
 love with you! — that is," added the Captain, guarded^, "I 
 will cut the throats of all persons, or individuals, who pre- 
 sume to do anything of the sort." 
 
 With which somewhat inconsistent declaration, Captain 
 Wagner again kissed the hand he held in his huge paw, 
 pushed up his black moustache with his finger, as was hab- 
 itual with him, and issuing forth, mounted his horse, and 
 took his way toward Mr. Argal's. 
 
108 
 
 FAIRFAX ; OR, 
 
 XXTL 
 
 THE CAPTAIN REVELS IN THE CREATIONS OP HIS FANCY. 
 
 ALCONBRIDGE !— Madam Bertha!" muttered 
 the soldier, gloomily, as he went onward, " infat- 
 uated ! Really, nothing is more astonishing than 
 this passion, or indeed madness, as one may 
 call it, which invades a man's heart when his locks are still 
 black, his moustache untouched by gray. But this is not 
 an infallible test, since I, myself, am not at all gray. But 
 then, I, myself," continued the Captain, philosophically 
 carrying on a logical fencing with himself, as with another 
 person, " I, myself, possibly am in love. In love ! what ro- 
 mance and folly, and all that ! Still the fair lady yonder is 
 not unworthy of the affection of a soldier, and a man of 
 intelligence — a good, sensible, fair, wealthy, and very engag- 
 ing widow ! If that don't satisfy an individual in search of 
 matrimony, nothing can. I'll have her ! — may the devil eat 
 me whole but I'll have her ! On ! Injun-hater, on !" 
 
 And the Captain dug his spurs into the huge sides of the 
 snorting animal, and went onward like a moving mountain. 
 
 He soon reached Mr. Argal's — dismounted — and entered. 
 It was a plain and rudely-constructed house, with few com- 
 forts about it, and scarcely discernible at the distance of 
 fifty yards, so dense was the clump of trees in which it 
 stood. 
 
 The Captain was met on the threshold by Mr. Argal, who 
 politely welcomed him, and led him into the house, where 
 dinner was being placed upon the table. The Captain 
 snuffed up the rich odor of the repast, plain as it was, and 
 
THE MASTER OP GREENWAY CCtTOT. 101 
 
 ft mild expression diffused itself over his martial counte- 
 nance. Dinner must have been invented by the earliest in- 
 habitants of the globe, Captain Wagner often said, and h6 
 hailed it as one of the greatest discoveries which had ever 
 adorned science. To say the truth, the soldier had aD 
 equally exalted opinion of the individual, or individual^ 
 who discovered breakfast, supper, intermediate meals, and 
 all descriptions of eating. 
 
 After satisfying himself that his material wants would be 
 amply supplied, Captain Wagner looked around him to see 
 where Falconbridge could be — as to Miss Argal, he never 
 felt a very great anxiety to see her: for which the honest 
 Captain probably had a good reason. They were neither 
 of them visible, but soon made their appearance, the arm of 
 the young girl resting upon that of her companion, and hei 
 bright eyes turned to him. Falconbridge grasped the hand 
 of the Captain with hearty pleasure, and declared himself 
 delighted to see him: to which the Captain replied in the 
 same tone. Then, after some conversation, the party sat 
 down to dinner. The Captain ate with great gusto, and 
 emptied more than one fair cup of wine, or — more accurate- 
 ly speaking, Jamaica rum. In those days wines were not ~* 
 much affected, especially upon the border ; the mellow rum 
 of Jamaica was the favorite beverage; and, as we have said, 
 this was Captain Wagner's chosen drink. 
 
 At the termination of the repast, and when all rose and 
 walked out in the fine October evening, the Captain found 
 himself in excellent condition for the attack upon Mr. 
 Argal. 
 
 He was speedily left alone with that individual ; for Fal- 
 conbridge and the young lady accidentally -wandered off to- 
 ward the prairie, a glimpse of which appeared through a 
 glade in the woods, toward the south; and the Captain's 
 eloquence had thus full scope and room to move in, without 
 fear of interruption 
 
 The difficulty experienced by the very best stenographer* 
 
 i 
 
110 
 
 FAIRFAX; OR, 
 
 in reporting the utterances of great orators, is proverbial 
 and undisputed. We find ourselves in this predicament in 
 relation to the harangue of Captain Wagner on this occa- 
 sion. Full of his subject, in a talkative and eloquent mood, 
 and with an important end to attain, the Captain's oration 
 was really remarkable. It was also sprinkled with the 
 newest and most impressive flowers of speech, of that 
 description which the soldier was accustomed to use in 
 decorating his utterances — and the originality and beauty 
 of these newly-coined forms of expression riveted the atten- 
 tion of his smiling and amused auditor. As to his eulogium 
 upon the town of Winchester, it was almost sublime in its 
 eloquence and enthusiasm. 
 
 " A magnificent situation !" cried the Captain, pushing 
 up his moustache; "the pearl of towns, the paragon of 
 villages ! Like Rome and other cities of Asia, which grew 
 up from small beginnings. Winchester, my dear friend, is 
 destined to rule the world ! But perhaps that is too strong 
 — I wish to confine myself strictly within the most reason- 
 able bounds — I will be moderate, and say that Winchester 
 is destined to be the capital of Virginia ! I expect to see 
 his Excellency, Governor Gooch, take up his residence there, 
 and leave forever that abominable county town, called 
 Williamsburg — I expect everything; and nothing is too 
 good for that noble village! Who knows but his Majesty, 
 George II., attracted by the wide-spread fame of the place, 
 may some day set out from London on a visit to Winches- 
 ter, and delight the hearts of his faithful subjects of Vir- 
 ginia with a sight of his royal and divine physiognomy ! I 
 think I see myself his herald and king at arms, riding be« 
 fore the royal chariot, through Loudoun Street, on Injun- 
 hater, and crying to the crowd : " Make way, my friends ! 
 his Majesty is coming!' This, sir, is the future of Winches- 
 ter — and is anything so * splendid to be descried in the 
 future of Stephensburg — a mere assemblage of huts, and 
 unworthy of the Jeast attention ? You are laughing at me, 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAif COURT. Ill 
 
 my dear friend, and you think I am not impartial. Wel^ 
 maybe I'm not- — and this is all my jesting. But recollect, 
 my dear friend, what I say — recollect what Wagner said 
 when it is fulfilled: — in one year from this time, there'll be 
 a splendid wagon road from Winchester to the ferry, on the 
 Potomac, and the town will have its jail, and court-house of 
 the finest logs !" 
 
 Having uttered these words with deep solemnity, Cap- 
 tain Wagner paused a moment, and revolved the remaining 
 points of his subject not yet touched upon. 
 
 We need not follow the conversation further ; it is enough 
 to say that when Falconbridge and Miss Argal made theii 
 appearance again, Captain Wagner had received from his 
 companion a promise to vote for Winchester— a matter, he 
 said, of no importance to him, and rather in accordance with 
 his previous convictions of what would be most advisable. 
 
 " And now, Captain," said Mr. Argal, " is there any mora 
 intelligence of Indians ?" 
 
 "You heard the rumors: but that's little. I think, my 
 dear friend, that we shall hear from the South Branch be- 
 fore long. Body o' me! you can't trust those rascals, 
 because you don't see or hear them : — you can't, on that ac- 
 count, be sure that they're not at your very doors: and this 
 young lady might have been carried away yonder in a mo- 
 ment, in spite of the presence of her gallant." 
 
 " Bah ! Captain !" said Falconbridge, as he drew near, 
 smiling, " you can't frighten me." 
 
 " I wouldn't attempt it, comrade. Such men as we are 
 don't get frightened But Injuns are Injuns !" 
 
 " Well, let them come," said Falconbridge, laughing; " we 
 are equal to them in strength." 
 
 "And the women ?" 
 
 "Ah!" 
 
 "And the children?" 
 
 "You are right — I forgot them, boy that I am." 
 
 "In case the Injuns show their noses, companion," re- 
 
112 
 
 FAIRFAX ; OR, 
 
 plied the Captain, " I undertake to say that you will not 
 possibly be able to forget the said women and children." 
 " How, Captain ?" 
 
 " They have a way of squalling— an awful noise it is, oi 
 may the fiend seize me!" 
 
 " I couldn't bear that," said Falconbridge ; " I never could 
 endure the thought that a woman or a child was suffering. 
 I would close my ears to it, if I could not strike !" 
 
 " Well, you may, perhaps, have to close your ears, com- 
 panion, before the arrival of the blood- thirsty rascals." 
 
 " What do you mean, Captain ?" 
 
 " I mean that Mr. Gideon Hastyluck speaks of having old 
 Powell, up yonder, and his daughter, whose name is Cannie 
 — a sweet child — burned as witches, at the next assizes." 
 
 " Burned?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "A man?" 
 
 " And his daughter." 
 "You jest, Captain !" 
 "I'm in dead earnest I" 
 "For witchcraft?" 
 " Precisely." 
 
 " Why, it is barbarous ! — worse than the bloodiest mur- 
 der: a man and his daughter burned for witchcraft!" 
 
 "Then you do not believe in witchcraft, comrade, eh?" 
 
 " J believe nothing, and disbelieve nothing." 
 
 "\ery well," said the Captain, "that is just nry case- 
 only if that fellow, Hastyluck, makes me ang/y, I will cut 
 off both his ears. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof. 
 Let us dismiss the subject, and it's in very good time, as I 
 see the sun setting yonder, and a" storm brewing. Com- 
 rade," he said, turning to Falconbridge, " will you go ?" 
 
 There was so much sternness and gloom in Captain W T ag- 
 ner's voice, as he uttered these latter words, that Falcon- 
 bridge, for a moment, remained silent, gazing with astonish* 
 ment at him. Then his eyes turned suddenly towai d th* 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT 
 
 113 
 
 lady — her hand had pressed his arm, that was all: she was 
 looking with a smile at the evening sky. 
 
 "No, my dear Captain," he said; "I think 1*11 prolong 
 my visit a little. When I am in agreeable company, I am 
 loth to leave it." 
 
 "Good, good!" said Captain Wagner, indifferently, but 
 gazing with a wistful look at the open, careless face of Fal- 
 conbridge, "I can understand that. But I am not a young- 
 ster, and I really must go." 
 
 He turned his eyes as he spoke toward Miss Argal; and 
 his rapid glance took in every detail of her figure — her head 
 bent down — her glossy curls half covering her cheeks — her 
 rosy lipc half parted and moist — her brilliant eyes veiled by 
 the long and dusky lashes, but raised from time to time to- 
 ward her companion: all this Captain Wagner saw, and the 
 frown grew deeper. 
 
 He said nothing, however, and refusing to accept Mr. 
 Argal's invitation to remain all night, went and mounted his 
 horse, and set forward. 
 
 Ealconbridge remained half an hour longer; and then 
 seeing the storm rapidly rising, also took his departui\3 — 
 but not so sullenly as Captain Wagner. 
 
 He went on, at full gallop, gaily through the darkness 
 which lightning from time to time illuminated : and his coun- 
 tenance clearly indicated of whom he was thinking. 
 
 The dazzling beauty of the woman whom he had just left, 
 had intoxicated the young man; and he went on with the 
 carelessness of a lover, or a madman, without heeding the 
 lightning or the storm. 
 
 A brighter flash than he had yet witnessed, lit up the 
 road, and he saw a tall, dark horseman before him, who 
 could be no other than Captain Wagner — and so, upon a 
 Dearer approach, it proved. The Captain had ridden at a 
 measured pace; Falconbridge had galloped furiously; and 
 thus they had encountered each other. 
 
ill 
 
 FAIRFAX; OR, 
 
 xxm. 
 
 CAPTAIN WAGNER DISCOURSES ON THE NATURE OF r .4 OTHERS. 
 
 APTAIN WAGNER quietly returned Falcon* 
 bridge's salute; and touching his horse with the 
 spur, galloped on by his side without speaking. 
 " Well, my dear Captain," said his companion, 
 * you did not expect to see me ?" 
 " No, I did not," said the soldier. 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Because you were with a woman." 
 "Pshaw!" cried Falconbridge : "you think me a mere 
 lady's man." 
 
 " No — but how did you succeed in getting away ?" asked 
 the Captain. 
 
 " Succeed in getting away?" 
 
 "Yes, pardy! It seems there is much to attract you 
 yonder." 
 
 " Is anything more natural than that I should wish to get 
 to the Ordinary before the storm ? See ! that flash ! and 
 the thunder ! I doubt whether, even at the rapid pace we 
 are now going, we shall arrive without a drenching." 
 
 Captain Wagner made no reply, and the two horses 
 continued to devour the space with their long gallop, which 
 was so regular that but one footfall could be heard. At last 
 the Captain turned, and said, abruptly : 
 
 " Comrade, you ar? from the Lowlands, down yonder, are 
 you not?" 
 
 " Yes, from Tide-water. Why do you ask ?" 
 "Oh, mere curiosity; fine animals you have down there 
 —your horse for instance." 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAT JOURT. 115 
 
 " Yes, he's of the purest blood — out of Mariana by Both 
 well— a racer." v 
 
 " I believe you; he is eating the road like wildfire — worse 
 than a rabbit at a head of cabbage. But there is one very 
 beautiful animal which I have never yet seen in the Low 
 Country, and though the breed of horses there is superior, I 
 believe, to the mountain nags, I think we are ahead of yon 
 
 "In what, Captain?" 
 
 " Panthers," said the Captain, concisely. 
 
 " Panthers ? I have never seen tone." 
 
 " Are you sure ?" 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 "Quite sure?" 
 
 " Absolutely — there are none on Tide-water." 
 
 " That does not matter, comrade — not in the least." 
 
 " How so r 
 
 " You may have seen them since your arrival in this fine 
 country of the Valley, or the devil eat me !" 
 " I have not, however." 
 " Do you know a panther when you see it ?" 
 " No." 
 
 " How, then, can you say you have encountered none ? 
 Answer that, pardy ! companion !" 
 
 Falconbridge endeavored to make out the expression of 
 the Captain's face through the darkness. What could this 
 persistence of the soldier in one subject, a subject of no 
 fcterest to him, signify? 
 
 " Well, have it as you will, Captain," he said, smiling, 
 1 perhaps I may have seen these animals — describe one to 
 lie." 
 
 " Ah !" replied Wagner, " at last you are becoming curi- 
 ous! Well, I will do as you wish. Listen, then, to the 
 description of a panther." 
 
 " I listen." 
 
 The soldier was silent, and seemed to be struggling with 
 
116 
 
 FAIRFAX OB, 
 
 himself — debating in the depths af his acute an I vigorous 
 brain whether it were advisable or not to follow a certain 
 course. But Falconbridge did not perceive the singular 
 expression of the Captain's face, or indeed, hear his dubious 
 mutterings; the darkness shrouded completely his compan- 
 ion's person — the hoof-strokes of the horse drowned his 
 growl. The expression of the soldier's countenance would 
 have afforded his companion much food for thought. That 
 expression was both stern and pitying, gloomy and satirical 
 The Captain remained thus silent for some time, 
 " But your description of a panther, Captain," repeated 
 Falconbridge. 
 
 " Well, in the first place," said the soldier, " eyes both 
 soft and fiery — that is to say, as tender-looking as the leaf 
 of a flower in bloom, and at the same time as brilliant as a 
 flame of fire." 
 
 "Indeed!" 
 
 "Yes I extraordinary eyes, wondrous eyes; both human 
 and inhuman, attractive and repulsive, but far more fascin- 
 ating than menacing, or the devil take me ! It is only at 
 certain times that these eyes menace you, and then they 
 blaze!" 
 
 " Ah !" said Falconbridge, " then you have seen both ex- 
 pressions ?" 
 
 " Yes, often ! a wondrous pair of optics, that draw you 
 toward them, however firm you may be, as the sun 4raws, 
 I am told, the fixed stars, pardy !" 
 
 Falconbridge laughed at this illustration. 
 
 " Well," he said, " continue." 
 
 " Next the voice is not less wonderful." 
 
 "The voice ?" 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 "Of a panther? Has a panther a voice, Captain — » 
 roioe?" 
 
 " Nothing less 1 Have you never read of the strange cry- 
 
THE MASTER OF GBEENWAY OOUBT. 
 
 117 
 
 %ng of a child, which hunters have heard in the deep foresti 
 in their expeditions ?" i 
 "Ah, yes ! I now recollect " 
 
 "Well, that is one of the tones of the panther's voice 
 You understand," continued the soldier with a cold sneer — 
 " a ferocious, blood-thirsty animal, worse than a tiger, or a 
 rattlesnake, cries like a little fatling baby for its amuse- 
 ment r 
 
 "Strange, indeed 1" 
 
 "But this voice, which can sigh, and wail, and murmul 
 like a baby's, can also send terror to the strongest heart I" 
 "Yes." 
 
 " To proceed, then, with my description of this fine animal." 
 
 " Captain — your voice ! the tones of it ! how singularly 
 you speak ! but pardon me." 
 
 " Oh, my voice, it is true, can't compare with a panther's; 
 but, nevertheless, I have the advantage in one particular. I 
 have never yet seen the panther who could ease his feelings 
 with a good round 'devil take me!' But let me finish. ~" 
 Next to the eyes and the voice come the velvet covering, the 
 graceful movement, tlie beautiful, sharp teeth, and the 
 sharper claws; but here again is an astonishing thing; with 
 these teeth the fine panther, male or female, actually 
 smiles " 
 
 " Smiles ? Captain, you mean more than you say ! There 
 is a covert meaning in this description my mind struggles 
 to make out !'' 
 
 " Covert ? How is that — it is as accurate a description as 
 possible; no fiction, no imagination, or may the devil fly 
 away with me !" 
 
 " Proceed !" murmured Falconbridge. 
 
 "I was saying that as the panther, with its fine voice, 
 could not only make you shudder, but also fill you with 
 pity as for a poor little crying child, so with its fine teeth it 
 cannot only tear you to pieces, but just as easily persuade 
 you that its nature is all tenderness and love — by smiling 
 
118 
 
 Fairfax; ob, 
 
 understand — a soft, gentle, fascinating smile 1 I haie seem 
 it, or the devil take me I" 
 
 " Captain, Captain !" murmured Falconbridge, passing 
 his hand over his forehead." 
 
 " Then the claws," continued the soldier, paying no at- 
 tention to this interruption, " they are gifted with the sin- 
 gular power of drawing themselves in, and burying them- 
 selves beneath the velvety hair, you understand " 
 
 "Yes!" 
 
 " Then when they are so drawn back, you touch nothing 
 but a soft, velvet cushion, which natural historians have 
 most ungallantly called a paw — I say ungallantly, because all 
 this time I have been speaking of the female panther, or 
 perhaps I may say pantheress. You have a beautiful, soft 
 cushion before you, a pretty thing to toy and play with — 
 nothing more — no claws any where visible; you compre- 
 hend r 
 
 "Perfectly!" 
 
 " But if you happen to excite the slumbering ferocity of 
 the fine lady panther, why this beautiful, soft palm will turn 
 into a bundle of iron springs, the sharp claws will dart forth 
 like magic; and the bright teeth which you admired so 
 much will come to the assistance of the claws; and there! 
 you find the consequences of intimacy with a pantheress ! 
 When your friend, uneasy at your absence, comes to 
 search for you, he finds a mangled body, half-devoured, and 
 emptied of every drop of blood; panthers like blood !" 
 
 " Captain — Captain Wagner V murmured Falconbridge, 
 " speak to me as a friend — speak to me in plain words— -you 
 oi^an " 
 
 " That I do not like panthers, male or female," said Cap- 
 tain Wagner, sullenly ; " they are too tender and cruel, too 
 beautiful and fatal with their undulating bodies, their grace- 
 ful limbs, their soft, velvety covering, their smiles, their sighs, 
 their fascinating glances !" 
 
 "Captain! Captain!" 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 118 
 
 " They smile too sweetly and bite too ferociously ' They 
 caress too softly the victim before tearing him to pieces, and 
 lapping with a smile his heart's blood ! Would you have me 
 like the animal when I know it so well !" 
 
 Falconbridge was silent for a moment, evidently overcome 
 by this terrible allegory. At last he said, with much agita- 
 tion : 
 
 " Captain ! friend ! why have you spoken with such cruel 
 enmity of Miss Argal ?" 
 
 " I have spoken of no one," said the Captain gloomily ; 
 " I have not mentioned Miss Argal's name ! I have spoken 
 of an animal which I should fear mortally, were not my 
 muscles of force sufficient to catch that animal in my arms, 
 were she to spring upon me, and there crush her !" 
 
 Falconbridge, plunged in disturbed thought, made no re- 
 ply. They galloped on for a quarter of a mile in silence, and 
 then the moon came out between the lurid clouds. The 
 storm had passed away toward the south. 
 
 Captain Wagner, chancing to look at his companion, saw 
 that he was very pale, and that his forehead was covered 
 with a cold sweat. The words of the soldier seemed to have 
 paralyzed him, for he remained perfectly silent — with eyes 
 full of wonder, fixed far away upon the distance. 
 
 Not a word more was uttered by either of the companions 
 until they reached the Ordinary, and here they separated, 
 and retired to their beds. 
 
 With Falconbridge the night was a vigil of wonder and in« 
 credulity. 
 
120 
 
 FAIRFAX J OB, 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 REFLECTIONS OP CAPTAIN LONGKNIFE. 
 
 OME days after the scenes which we have tried 
 to make pass before the eyes of the reader, Cap- 
 tain "Wagner, who had been uninterruptedly en- 
 gaged in conferences with the Earl, bethought him 
 of paying some attention to his private affairs. According- 
 ly, one morning before the sun had risen he donned his 
 warlike accoutrements, mounted " Injunhater," and set out 
 for the Ordinary. 
 
 The sun soon appeared above the brow of the mountain, 
 and scattered the river mist before him. The landscape 
 waked up, the birds began to sing, and not to be behind 
 them, the Captain shouted lustily an old border ballad, with 
 an ardor which was superior to its musical execution. 
 
 " The fact is," he said in a confidential tone, after finishing 
 the chorus, " the fact is, I was not intended to delight the 
 world by the sweet tones of my voice. Astonishing, but 
 dooms true ! It's not given to everybody to excel in all things, 
 and this is one of my failings. On, Injunhater I" 
 
 And the worthy touched his great black animal with the 
 spur, and cantered along gaily, presenting, as he moved 
 through the burnishing sunlight, an exceedingly striking and 
 martial appearance. 
 
 ** A. fine morning, by the snout of the dragon ! M continued 
 the Captain, looking round with satisfaction on the expanse 
 of torest and prairie. "I should like to feel for once 
 like Fairfax yonder, that the world belonged to me — that I 
 was master. But wherefore ? Am I not better off by tu 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 121 
 
 than this good baron of Cameron ? First, I am a common 
 individual — and these lords must have such a weary time ! 
 Then I laugh, and the baron only sighs! He eats little 01 
 nothing, and at this moment I could devour a raw buffalo, 
 or I'm a dandy ! To end the whole matter I'm going to see 
 my wife — I'm going to breakfast with my intended ! A noble 
 woman, a real fairy, though she's so fat. But who cares ? I 
 rather like fat people ! They laugh where lean ones groan ; 
 I'll have this one ! If I don't I'll eat my head !" 
 
 And the Captain seemed inspired by the reflection and 
 pushed on more rapidly. Then as he gazed in the direc- 
 tion of the Ordinary his brow clouded — he was thinking of 
 Falconbridge. 
 
 "A noble fellow!" he muttered, — "a heart of oak — an 
 honest boy! And he's going to his doom as sure as my 
 name's Wagner. Well, I've done all I can, and more than 1 
 have liked — things must go on their way. He has had full 
 warning, and though my breast aches at the thought that 
 he's going to bleed, I am done with it. Woman, woman ! 
 why can't we male things staj away from them ? We die 
 for them — which is better than living for 'em sometimes ! 
 We laugh at 'em, sneer at 'em, curl our moustaches with a 
 high-handed air, and then we go kneel down, and make 
 fools of ourselves. Why did they enter the world ever ? 
 What is it that draws us so toward 'em ?" 
 
 The Captain knit his brows as he saw the tavern before 
 him, and after some moments of silence, muttered grimly : 
 
 " Woman ! woman ! wherever you turn in this miserable 
 world, you're sure to find a woman I — and an individual ol 
 tke masculine sex not far off !'* 
 
122 
 
 FAIRFAX j OS, 
 
 XXV. 
 
 HOW THE TOWN OP STEPHENSBURG, OTHERWISE NEWTOWN t WAS 
 SOLD FOR A FLAGON OF PUNCH. 
 
 HE Captain proceeded toward the Ordinary 
 without further reflections, or at least utterance, > 
 and was soon entering the door of the main 
 apartment. 
 
 A disagreeable picture awaited him. The handsome wid- 
 ow was leaning familiarly upon Monsieur J amboVs shoulder, 
 and conversing confidentially with that gentleman. Whether 
 she had heard the sonorous neigh of Injunhater, and arrang- 
 ed for his rider's benefit this pleasing little tableau — or 
 whether the idea of making her admirer jealous had never 
 entered the mind of the lady, we cannot say. But she cer- 
 tainly exhibited great surprise and confusion. Monsieur 
 Jambot only scowled. 
 
 On this trying occasion Captain Wagner acted with that con- 
 summate knowledge of the female character which his friends 
 declared made him so dangerous. He squeezed Monsieur 
 Jambot's lily white hand with the warmest and most frater- 
 nal regard — greeted Mrs. Butterton politely but with easy 
 indifference — and then turning his back in a careless way, 
 proceeded to converse with Mynheer Yan Poring, taking no 
 further notice either of the Frenchman or the lady. 
 
 The result of this stratagem was soon apparent. Mrs. 
 Butterton pouted, tossed her fair head, and abandoned the 
 vicinity of Monsieur Jambot, whose teeth began to grind 
 against each other. 
 
 Captain Wagner did not move. He was perfectly ab* 
 gorbed in his conversation with the fat landlord. 
 
THE MASTER OP GREENWAY COURT. 12S 
 
 The lady lightly touched his shoulder: — he turned ind it 
 ferently. 
 
 " Why do you treat me so unfriendly, Captain ?" said the 
 lady; " all because I was looking at that music ?" 
 
 " Unfriendly, madam !" ejaculated the Captain, " I am not 
 unfriendly— but I know too well what is expected of a sol- 
 dier in the presence of the fair sex. As you were convers- 
 ing with Monsieur Jambot, I was too polite to interrupt 
 you." 
 
 And the Captain raised his head with martial dignity 
 and hauteur, with which was mingled a proud misery. 
 
 Mrs. Butterton put her handkerchief to her eyes and 
 sobbed. The Captain set his teeth together, and summoned 
 all his resolution. 
 
 Another sob issued from the handkerchief. Monsieur 
 Jambot rose to his feet with ferocious rapidity. In a mo- 
 ment his little dress-sword was drawn, and he had con- 
 fronted the Captain, whom he charged, in a voice hoarse 
 with rage, with making Madame " grieve." 
 
 Captain "Wagner drew his sabre, courteously saluted, and 
 took his position with the coolness of an old swordsman. It 
 was then that Mrs. Butterton threw herself between them 
 with sobs and tears, beseeching them to be friends — for her 
 sake, for the sake of goodness gracious — and on other 
 grounds. 
 
 "For the sake of a lady," returned Captain Wagner, 
 coldly, "I am prepared to do anything. But blood will 
 come of this, or the devil take it ! Blood, sir !" 
 
 And the Captain struck ferociously, the hilt of his sword, 
 which weapon he slowly returned to its scabbard. Mon- 
 sieur Jambot declared his entire willingness to fight all the 
 Capitaines in the world, singly, or together — and then with 
 his hands superbly placed upon his hips, and his hat cocked 
 fiercely, sauntered carelessly from the apartment. 
 
 Then commenced a terrible scene between the Captain 
 and Mrs. Butterton. We forbear to relate the particular* 
 
 ' '4 
 
124 
 
 FAIRFAX; Oft, 
 
 The lady was the pleader — the soldier was the dignified 
 listener. For a long time he remained obdurate — in the 
 end he melted. When Mrs. Butterton brought him Jamai- 
 ca with her own fair hands, and provided all else which he 
 wished, with smiles breaking through tears, the Captain 
 fairly succumbed. He took the chubby hand and kissed it 
 gallantly — declared he was more her devoted slave than 
 ever — and then busied himself in mingling his morning 
 dram , for which he possessed a recipe known only to him- 
 self. 
 
 " Eeally, my dear madam," said the worthy, now com- 
 pletely mollified by the sight of breakfast coming in, "you 
 are the paragon of your sex. You resemble the goddess 
 Diana, or I'm a dandy ! — Diana rising from the sea; for 
 which reason she was called Diana Urainy. You are her 
 very image !" 
 
 "La, Captain!" said the lady with a simper, "you are 
 really too flattering !" 
 
 At the same moment, a loud and harsh voice on the stair- 
 way was heard calling. 
 
 "Who's that, in the devil's name ?" said the Borderer. 
 
 " Oh, only Major Hastyluck, who slept here last night." 
 
 " I'll wager my head against a sixpence that he didn't see 
 the way to bed, madam." 
 
 And the Captain's black moustache curled until his long 
 white teeth resembled icicles pendent from the eaves of a 
 house. 
 
 " I fear he was — intoxicated," was Mrs. Butterton's reply 
 with a smile; "how shocking!" 
 
 " Oh, dreadful, awful, really deplorable, my dear madam, 
 and what's he calling for ? — there again ! like the growl of a 
 bear, or I'm a dandy !" 
 
 In fact Major Hastyluck was calling violently to old Hans, 
 the waiter. 
 
 "G-oming, sir/ said Hans quietly: and ascending leisure- 
 ly; he was heard conversing with the Major. Soon he reap- 
 
THE MASTER OE GREENWAY COURT. 125 
 
 peared, announcing that Major Hastyluck was impatient 
 for his morning draught, and all at once a brilliant thought 
 struck the Captain. He had secured the votes of precisely 
 ane half of the justices, for the establishment of the county- 
 seat at Winchester — and Major Hastyluck's vote would 
 decide all. The reflection stimulated the worthy to a tre- 
 mendous exertion of politeness. This was no less than to 
 send up to the official gentleman, the flagon of delightful 
 punch which he had just brewed, with every ingredient, and 
 in the highest perfection. 
 
 " Take that up, Hans, my hogshead," said the soldier, 
 handing him the cup, "and present it to the Major with the 
 respects of Captain Wagner." 
 
 Hans obeyed, and very soon descended again, with the 
 request, on the part of the Major, that Captain Wagner 
 would brew him another supply. To this task the Captain, 
 who had meanwhile attended to his own wants, addressed 
 himself immediately — and very soon after the justice made 
 his appearance. He was a -little weasen man, with a dried 
 np physiogomy, of a fiery red hue, and carried himself with 
 an immense affectation of dignity and superiority. 
 
 "My dear Major!" cried the Captain, "I am really de- 
 lighted to see you — you arrive at a moment when my heart 
 h open, just as breakfast is coming. How is your health ?" 
 
 " Hum ! — hah ! — thank you, Captain Wagner, pretty well, 
 f retty well. You are lately arrived, sir ?" 
 
 " Precisely — from Belhaven, on the Potomac, down there." 
 
 " A thriving place." 
 
 "Yes, but by no means equal to Winchester, or I'm a 
 dandy!" 
 
 " Hum ! — perhaps— hum !" 
 
 And with these oracular words, Major Hastyluck sat down 
 fco breakfast, slightly staggering as he did so. His appe- 
 tite once satisfied, he rose with the same oracular expression 
 and ail. The Captain soon followed, and lighting a corn* 
 
126 
 
 FAIRFAX; Oft, 
 
 cob pipe with a reed stem, which he took from the mantel 
 piece, he addressed himself to business. 
 
 "How did you like that beverage I sent you, my deal 
 Major?" said the Captain, sending forth clouds of foamy 
 smoke; "was it a scorcher — as mild as milk, and as strong 
 as a yoke of oxen, eh ?" 
 
 "It was a pleasant draught," returned the Justice; "I 
 will freely say, more pleasant than any which I have tasted 
 for many years — ahem !" 
 
 " The fact is, I make if; by a recipe known only to myself, 
 and my respected grandmother— -formerly known by that 
 excellent lady, I mean — and as she has now, alas ! paid the 
 debt of nature, you understand, I am the sole depositary o* 
 the recipe." 
 
 This announcement seemed to excite unusual interest in 
 breast of the Major. He assumed a coaxing expression, and 
 said in a wheedling voice, almost wholly divested of his 
 habitual pomposity : 
 
 " Is it a very great secret, Captain ?" 
 
 "Secret!" cried the soldier; "I believe you ! I promised 
 my venerable grandmother that no one should ever worm it 
 out ol me." 
 
 " That is unlucky. I'd give a great deal to have it, Captain." 
 
 " Understand me," added the Borderer, curling his mous- 
 tache, and assuming a serious expression, "there was one 
 condition to my promise : that those individuals who proved 
 themselves my true friends should participate with me." 
 
 "Ah, indeed ! "Well, I trust that you regard me as one 
 of those — hum 1" 
 
 " That depends upon circumstances, my dear Major. 
 You can easily convince me, however. Prove yourself mj 
 friend — vote for Winchester for the county-seat." 
 
 " Winchester? Why, what interest have you there, Caj> 
 tain?" 
 
 " What interest ? Can you ask ? Are you ignorant, mj 
 dear friend, that I possess large and valuable estates imme* 
 
/ 
 
 1HE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT 127 
 
 Hiately in that vicinity? I and my friends, General Adam 
 Stephen, and Colonel Carter, are the real owners of all thai 
 region, or the devil take it i We let Fairfax live yonder as 
 a favor — and to make a long story short, I want the county- 
 seat at Winchester." 
 
 The Major shook his little withered head doubtfully. 
 
 "Very well, my dear comrade," returned the Captain; "J 
 don't need your vote as yet — but I warn you that you have 
 lost the only chance of getting my recipe." 
 
 The Major groaned. 
 
 " Will nothing else do, Captain ?" 
 
 "Nothing." 
 
 "And if I were to make the bargain," he added, looking 
 round guardedly, " would it be confidential ?" 
 
 " Confidential ? I wouldn't breathe it to myself." 
 
 " Then it's a bargain !" returned the worthy; " and now 
 for the recipe." \ 
 
 " Wait a moment, my dear Major," said the Captain; " in 
 business matters I always like to proceed regularly. Lei 
 me draw up something in the shape of a little contract — it 
 will prevent mistakes." 
 
 And going to a table, he requested the fair widow to 
 supply him with pen, ink, and paper. This was soon done 
 by the smiling lady, and the worthy Borderer spread a sheet 
 before him, and dipped the pen in the ink. After a mo- 
 ment's reflection, during which he assisted the operations 
 of his intellect by tugging violently at the black fringe upon 
 his Hp, he traced upon the page, in a large, sprawling hand, 
 decorated with a myriad of ornamental spatters, the follow- 
 ing lines : 
 
 "Ic is hereby agreed between Captain Julius Wagner, otherwise 
 called Captain Bloody Longknife, and Major Gideon Hastyluck, a jus- 
 tice of Frederick, in the parish of Shenandoah, which is a fine country, 
 or I'm a dandy, that in consideration of Captain Julius Wagner, some- 
 times callel Julius Caasar Wagner, giving up to the said Hastyluck the 
 recipe for making rum punch, which recipe the said Wagner got from 
 
128 
 
 FAIRFAX ] OK, 
 
 fcis aged and much deplored grandmother, who resided in Stafford 
 County, and on account of never sending for doctors, a sort of people 
 that she never could bear, succeeded in living to almost the truly sur- 
 prising and wonderful age of a hundred year3 — that as aforesaid, in 
 consideration of Captain "Wagner's giving to the said Major Hasty luck 
 the said recipe, the said Hasty luck shall vote for Winchester, when the 
 next court comes to fix the county-seat, as they are bound to do, at the 
 town of Winchester, which will prove in the opinion of us, the unde- 
 signed, the future seat of empire of the Valley. 
 
 " And to the faithful discharge of the conditions in this paper, binding 
 on us, we the underwriters, pledge our respective words, and fix our 
 seals— Captain Julius Wagner intending immediately to brew a flagon of 
 the drink above mentioned, wherewith both parties shall wet the bar- 
 gain." 
 
 Captain "Wagner executed a masterly flourish beneath thia 
 document, which he evidently regarded with much pride 
 and satisfaction — and then affixed his name in letters nearly 
 an inch long. Major Hastyhick, with a business-like air did 
 the same, and the Borderer put the agreement in his 
 pocket. 
 
 "And now for the punch, Captain — the recipe and the 
 * flagon ' which I think you speak of brewing in the latter 
 portion of that document." 
 
 "It shall be forthcoming at once, my dear Major — at 
 once." 
 
 And first carefully writing down the desired formula, the 
 worthy soldier applied himself to mingling the new supply 
 in silence. Ere long it was rapidly descending the insatiate 
 throat of Major Hastyluck ; as to the Captain, he was chuck- 
 ling to himself and muttering: 
 
 " I've the majority now, or may the — hum ! /our health, 
 my dear Major, your very good health!" 
 
 In this way was the town of Stephensburg sold for a 
 flagon of rum punch and the recipe to make it. Kercheval, 
 in his History of the Valley, says : "Tradition relates that 
 Fairfax was much more partial to Stephensburg than ha 
 was to Winchester," but an opponent " out-generalled his 
 lordship, and by treating one of the justices to a bowl of 
 
MASTKS OT (WEENWA2 COURT. 1J89 
 
 toddy, secured LJs vote in favor of Winchester, which set- 
 tled the question," This is Mr. Ker^heval's account — the 
 reader is left to judge of the relative credibility of the op- 
 posing historians — that gentleman and oursaJvM, 
 
FAIRFAX ; 0B» 
 
 THE DAGGER IN THE HEAJIT. 
 
 HE occupants of the apartment were engaged as 
 we have described, when a step was heard upon 
 the staircase, and the next moment Falconbridge 
 entered. 
 
 Since that night on which Captain Wagner had warned 
 him in his gloomy and satiric tones against "panthers," and 
 their wiles — since those mocking and mysterious words had 
 resounded in his ears, Falconbridge had lived like one in a 
 dream. His quick instinct told him that the soldier meant 
 Miss Argal. There could be no doubt upon that point. 
 His studied coldness toward the young lady, his grim ex- 
 pression when he encountered her, the shadow on his brow 
 when her name even was mentioned — all this left no room 
 for doubt. 
 
 Falconbridge had shut himself up in his room, and the 
 storm began to mutter in his heart. His thoughts, like 
 hounds unleashed, darted forward and backward, circling 
 over the whole of his life, past and future. Then they re- 
 turned with furious mouths to tear their master. Could 
 this be anything but the merest dream, as wild and unreal 
 as the sickliest chimeras, haunting the fancy of the invalid 
 turning and tossing on the couch of fever? Suspect those 
 brilliant, limpid eyes of dissimulation! — suspect that open 
 and beautiful brow of concealment I — those tender lips ol 
 falsehood, of treachery ! Treachery ? Were women treach- 
 erous t Could eyes and lips and sighs and bashful glances 
 lie ? It was incredible, monstrous ! If this were so, thea 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 181 
 
 eyerything was unreal — the world a mere phantasmagoria 
 — and life a cheat, a lie, a miserable, horrible delusion ! 
 
 Such thoughts do not pass through the heart for the first 
 time without making it bleed. The brow which ia racked 
 and furrowed by them, never afterwards can be smooth. 
 The sincere and noble honesty of this man's nature made 
 the blow one of inexpressible agony. Suspicion was no 
 customary guest with him — it pierced him mortally. Like 
 a rusty and jagged blade directed by an unskillful hand, and 
 turned from mere wanton cruelty in the wound, it stretched 
 him on the bed of torture. 
 
 He pondered thus throughout the long hours of the dreary 
 night, and for all those hours succeeding. He sent away 
 the food brought to his room, untasted. More than once 
 he mounted Sir John, and galloped toward Mr. Argal's-— 
 but it was only to return without going thither. 
 
 "Well, well,'* he said, on the morning when he re-encoun 
 tered Captain Wagner as we have seen, "all this shall end 
 I will know; I will not labor under this terrible suspicion ! 
 Suspect her? I do not. I would as soon suspect an angel 
 Still that singular look of the soldier as he .spoke ! — those 
 words full of sneering coldness! Yes, this shall end — ] 
 swear it!" 
 
 And passing his hand across his forehead, which was 
 clouded and pale from suffering and want of rest, he 
 descended. 
 
 "Give you good day, Captain," he said in his clear, noble 
 voice; "I thought I heard your cheerful accents." 
 
 " Why, welcome, welcome, comrade," returned the soldier 
 warmly, and grasping the young man's hand as he spoke, 
 " I swear the sight of you is good for sore eyes, or I'm a 
 dandy!" 
 
 The Captain seemed to feel what he said. His martial 
 countenance always softened as he gazed at Falconbridge— 
 his penetrating eyes grew wistful; this man who had fought 
 Against the hard, rough world so long, and encountered so 
 
132 
 
 FAIRFAX ; OB, 
 
 much selfishnoss, falsehood and deception, appeared to ex- 
 perience a real delight in the company of his younger com ■ 
 panion, and to regard him with a strange affection. 
 
 " I'm dooms glad to see yon after having so long a slang 
 whang with Fairfax," added the soldier, " but you are look- 
 ing badly, Falconbridge; you are as white as a ghost 
 What's the matter?" 
 
 " Nothing, nothing, comrade." 
 
 " You want fresh air, or I'm mistaken." 
 
 " I really think you are right, Captain, and I'm going to 
 take some. I see Sir John coming to the door." 
 
 " Oh, you ride — you are going to see " 
 
 " Miss Argal," interrupted Falconbridge, with his proud, 
 open look, full of sincerity and truth; "it is three or four 
 days since I saw her." 
 
 And going to the door, he threw a critical glance at Sir 
 John, who whinnied with pleasure at the sight of his mas- 
 ter. The young man, with his delicate hand half covered 
 with lace which filled his great barrel sleeves, caressed gen- 
 tly the white neck of the thoroughbred : and as he gazed at 
 the beautiful animal, full of spirit and fire, his weary brow 
 cleared up slightly. 
 
 All at once a hand me laid upon his shoulder. He 
 turned round. Captain Wagner was beside him; and his 
 face wore the same cold and gloomy expression which had 
 characterized it on the night ride. 
 
 "Falconbridge," he said in a low, earnest tone, "have 
 you any confidence in me — do you regard me as a true man 
 — as an honest soldier — as a friend ?" 
 
 " Yes," said Falconbridge, passing his hand slowly over 
 the neck of the animal, and speaking in a very low voice. 
 
 " Well, you do me no more than justice. I swear to you 
 that I love you as I would love a son, though you're no 
 chicken, but a stout-hearted and stout-armed cavalier, or 
 the devil take it ! Well, I act as your friend when I say. 
 take care what you do 1 Beware !" 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 m 
 
 And turning away, the soldier, who had lost all his cheer- 
 fulness, and gay spirit, slowly re-entered the h#use. 
 
 Falconbridge followed him with his eyes until he disap- 
 peared — turned even paler than before — and a sort of lurid 
 light broke from his eyes. He evidently hesitated for a 
 moment whether to follow and extract from the soldier a 
 complete explanation of his meaning, or seek it from the 
 person accused. His hesitation did not last long. He set 
 his teeth together like a vice, leaped into the saddle, and 
 driving the spur into the side of his horse, set forward like 
 lightning on the road to Mr. Argal's. 
 
 He drew up at the door so suddenly that his horse was 
 thrown upon his haunches. In a moment he had entered 
 the house, and was in the presence of Miss Argal, who 
 greeted him with the warmest favor. 
 
 " You have been away so long !" she said, in her caress- 
 ing voice, and with a look from her black, lustrous eyes, 
 full of such electric fascination that it turned the young 
 Ban's head P^ost; " so very long — for nearly four days!" 
 
134 
 
 FAIRFAX/ OB, 
 
 xxm 
 
 FALCONBRIDGE PABTS WITH HIS MOTHER'S BDTG. 
 
 HE breast of Falconbridge thrilled with a vague 
 excitement, and in the presence of the beautiful 
 young woman, so innocent and pure-looking, his 
 racking suspicions began to disappear, and his 
 confidence to return. Were not those suspicions mere 
 folly — a baseness and disloyalty even ? Could any one look 
 into that fair face, and believe for an instant that it 
 masked a heart full of guile ? For the instant his possess- 
 ing thought disappeared — he no longer doubted — he yielded 
 to the enchantment of eye and lip and voice- 
 But this change could not be permanent; Falconbridge 
 was no weak and vacillating boy, whose moods at the mo- 
 ment govern his opinions, and actions. Those acrid and 
 bitter meditatians during the long hours which he had 
 passed in loneliness and silence had impressed him too 
 deeply. Thus his face became overclouded, and his head 
 drooped. To the soft and caressing reproach contained in 
 the words, "You have been away so long!" he therefore re- 
 plied with sorrowful calmness : 
 
 " Are you sure you cared to see me?" 
 The young lady turned her head aside, and a slight color, 
 like the first blush of morning, stole over her cheek. Then 
 from the red Hps came in a whisper almost, the words : 
 " Very sure/' 
 
 "Falconbridge gazed at her for a moment with an ex- 
 pression of aident love, mingled with bitter anguish, and 
 said, in supjoressed tones : 
 
 "You are so beautiful! — so very beautiful 1 Are you 
 truer 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 135 
 
 She turned her bend quickly, and fixed upon him a glance 
 which seemed intended to read his very soul. Then an ex 
 pression of coldness and hauteur rose to tl s beautiful face 
 and she said with frigid ceremony : 
 
 "Are you aware of what you are saying, Mr, Falcon 
 bridge r 
 
 " Yes, yes — unhappily I am," was the young man's reply, 
 " and I can understand your resentment. You find my 
 accent harsh, my words insulting, even. You see that this 
 question is not an idle jest, Miss ArgaJ You start at my 
 address, at my coldness, the solemnity ol my demand. But 
 the question is not asked by chance. I most solemnly pro- 
 pound it ! Not my lips, not my words, no ! my heart, my 
 soul cry out to you. Answ r er me, for pity's sake, for the 
 sake of all that is pure and truthful !" 
 
 The cold expression in the eyes of the young lady grew 
 ice. With a frigid erection of her superb head, she said : 
 
 "Are you unwell, Mr. Falconbridge, or is your mind 
 affected?" 
 
 "No, no! I am well, if a man whose heart dies in his 
 breast is well ! I am sane, if a mind stretched on the rack 
 may be called sane! I mean what I say — I have heard 
 what makes me ask — do not demand what it is, I cannot 
 reply. I suffer so poignantly that I must put an end to my 
 distress, or it will put an end to me ! For worlds — for the 
 universe I would not pain you — I would die a thousand 
 deaths rather — but " 
 
 He was interrupted by the voice of the young lady. That 
 voice had suddenly dhanged. It was no longer cold; her 
 manner had passed from hauteur to anguish. Turning 
 aside and covering her face with her handkerchief, she 
 sobbed repeatedly, and at last uttered the broken words : 
 
 " If you — would not — pain me — why do you speak — so— 
 cruelly to me— -so ur feelingly — so " 
 
 There the voice died away. 
 
 The accents went to the young man's heart. The sobf 
 
186 
 
 FAIRFAX; OR, 
 
 smote down aU "his coldness. The sight of the lovely form 
 bent down, and shaken with agitation, dissipated all his 
 resolution, and drove away every suspicion, as the winds of 
 March drive away the clouds from the clear blue sky. 
 
 All the profound loyalty and truth of his nature wa? 
 aroused — all his abhorrence of injustice and unkindness 
 He took the young lady's hand in his own — pressed it 
 ardently, and begged her forgiveness for his cruel and un- 
 founded suspicion. 
 
 "Pardon me," he said, in his sincere, noble voice, casting 
 upon his companion, as he spoke, a glance of unspeakable 
 love, u pardon your poor friend for the harsh and insulting 
 words he has uttered. I know not why I spoke so — I know 
 not how these thoughts ever entered my unfortunate brain. 
 Enough ; in pity let us speak of this no more. So we are 
 friends again — are we not ?" 
 
 And he bent forward to look into her face. That face 
 was raised, and the black eyes were riveted upon his own 
 with a sorrowful forgiveness, a tender melancholy which 
 were inexpressibly beautiful. They swam in tears — but 
 through the tears broke a sad smile which made the heart 
 of the young man bound in his bosom with wild delight. 
 Carried away by a rush of emotion, he pressed the hand 
 which he held to his lips, and said, passionately : 
 
 " Do not weep — your tears make ne wretched ! Never 
 shall I forgive myself for the cruel and unmanly conduct 
 which I have to-day been guilty of. I came here with my 
 heart on fire, my brain in a tumult — I have been unjust, 
 insulting, mad, almost — I could not help it. I spoke thus 
 because my mind was whirling, my nerves trembling- —be- 
 cause — because I love you !— yes, presumptuous as you may 
 think the words in a mere stranger — I love you — with hon- 
 est, faithful love!" 
 
 Enough — we forbear from pursuing further the details oi 
 the scene between the young lady and Falconbridge. We 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 187 
 
 have little skill in reporting such dialogues, and muat Iraw 
 the veil over the rest. 
 
 He remained until late in the evening, and then returned 
 at full gallop toward the Ordinary, his face the very imper- 
 sonation of joy. At times he gazed wistfully upon his left 
 hand* from which a ring was missing — a plain gold ring 
 which had belonged to his mother. He had placed it upon 
 the finger of the young girl, for she had plighted to him her 
 troth. 
 
 Here we would gladly leave the young cavalier — with his 
 face smiling, his cheeks glowing — his pulse beating joy full y 
 as he galloped on through the prairie and forest. But the 
 fatal current of our narrative keeps us beside him. Those 
 smiles are brief ones — the bloom of the happy cheek evanes* 
 cent as the frail spring blossom — the blow awaits him. 
 
 He dismounts at the door of the Ordinary and enters. 
 The fat landlord presents him with a letter which he operas, 
 smilingly. 
 
 Ten minutes afterward he is seated in his chamber, his* 
 brow leaning upon his crossed arms, resting upon a table 
 — his cheeks as pale as a ghost's — his forehead moist with 
 icy perspiration. The shudders which pass through hii 
 frame rattle the paper still clenched in his nervous grasp — 
 but no groan issues from his lips. 
 
138 
 
 FAIRFAX: OR, 
 
 XXVHL 
 
 THE LETTER. 
 
 HIS is the letter accompanying another papei 
 which, is stained with blood. 
 
 " Mb. Falconbridge : — After much doubt I address you, 
 to warn you, as a friend, against allowing your affections io be ensnared 
 by Miss B. Argal. I have no right, sir, to pry into your matters, and 
 maybe I will get no thanks, but your courtesy to me rnaKes it impossi- 
 ble for me to see you duped. Captain Wagner will not speak out — he 
 says that he has already said more than he had a right to — and I will, 
 therefore, do so myself. The paper which I put in this letter will tell 
 you all. The poor young man was a distant reJatiTe of mine, and died 
 at my house. He wrote the paper just before his death. I will add no 
 more, except that I have no private grudge against Miss Argal, and so 
 remain, Your real friend, 
 
 Sarah Butteeton." 
 
 The paper was written in a firm hand, obscured in several 
 places by stains of blood, and ran as follows : 
 
 "Staffoeiv Va., May, 1747. 
 " I am about to commit suicide. . Before putting an end to my misera- 
 ble life, I will relate the circumstances which impel me to the act. My 
 mind is perfectly sane, my memory good — I will speak calmly. This is 
 my history : 
 
 " I was left an orphan at twenty, with no brothers or sisters around 
 me — my only brother, who was older than myself, having perished on a 
 sea-voyage. I was rich — the entire property of my parents haviug re- 
 verted to myself. I enjoyed country life ou my property, and was fond 
 of the society of young ladies, but never loved any one until I met with 
 Bertha Argal. "Her father rented a small farm near my own considera- 
 ble estate, and I met with her frequently, and conceived a passion for 
 her. She was, and is the most beautiful woman that my eyes ever bo 
 held. Unfortunately she is destitute of all those noble qualities which 
 
«mE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 139 
 
 should accompany beauty. She is false, and as cold as ice — heartless. 
 But I will not say more — let the event show. 
 
 "I loved her passionately, and very soon commenced paying her my ad- 
 dresses. She received them with manifest favor. It was not long before 
 I confessed my affection, and she told me with tears and blushes, that she 
 loved me as ardently as I said I loved her. I will never forget her words 
 or her locks ; they are engraven on my memory. Well, to be brief, we 
 vere contracted in marriage ; it was fixed for a day not more than thre6 
 months off, when my elder brother, who had been given up as lost at 
 »ea, five years before, suddenly made his appearance. He had been 
 taken prisoner by a Spanish vessel, carried to Cadiz, and thrown into t, 
 dungeon there, as a suspected character ; his identity being mistaken 
 He had finally been liberated however, and so came back. I need not 
 tell anybody who knows me, that I did not regret this, or grudge my 
 brother the estate, which as eldest son he deprived me of; reducing 
 me from an independent gentleman of large possessions, to a dependent 
 on his bounty. I loved him, and he loved me. I looked up to him; he 
 was my superior in mind as in strength and stature ; and I was content 
 to occupy my rightful position of younger brother and inferior. 
 
 "Not long after his return, Harley saw Bertha Argal, and in spite oi 
 his knowledge of my engagement, loved her. In this there was no dis- 
 loyalty — no intention to become my rival. He would have scorned the 
 imputation, but he loved her. He could not help it. The dazzling 
 beauty of the girl, her fascinating, bewildering witchery, were too much 
 for his resolution. I saw that he loved her, but at first gave myself no 
 sort of uneasiness about it. I knew that Harley was the soul of honor ; 
 would as soon cut off his right hand as commit a base action ; and as to 
 Bertha Argal, I was quite at rest. At that'time I laughed at the idea ol 
 treachery in a creature so pure and beautiful. Well, the sequel will 
 show. Six months after my brother's arrival, the young lady began to 
 grow cold toward me, and warm toward my brother. I told her of it ; 
 she laughed in my face. She grew fonder and fonder of my brother. 1 
 became angry. She sneered at my anger. If I was displeased, she said, 
 at my brother's attentions, why not bring it to the decision of arms ? 
 we both wore swords ! These satirical words impressed me horribly : 
 the young lady was coming out in her real colors. I said nothing, and 
 terminated my visit ; but I went again the next day, for I had no will tc 
 resist ; I was mad about her. Thus things continued until a month 
 ago. Then I found that she had been poisoning my brother's mind 
 against me. He became cold to me, and ere long my presence in the 
 house, our father's house, became an evident constraint on him. On© 
 morning, however, he returned from Mr. Argal's, whither he had been 
 on business with a strange glow in his cheek, and greeted me with long 
 
FAIEFAX; OR, 
 
 disused affection. He seemed to look at me compassionately. Some- 
 thing told me that this foreboded evil, and I galloped over to see Bertha 
 I had guessed correctly, She embraced that occasion, she said, to in- 
 form me that I might give up all thoughts of marrying her ; she had no 
 reason to give ; it was her decision ! She looked like a queen as sh« 
 spoke, and I remained for a moment looking at her, pale and silent- 
 Then I said, ' "Was this what made Harley so kind to me, so compassion- 
 ate ? Did you inform him of your intention?' 'Well, sir,' was her re- 
 ply, ' suppose I did ? I beg you will in future con fine yourself to youi 
 own affairs, and not subject me to the inquisition.' She was furious, 
 but as beautiful as an aroused leopardess. I was white with rage, but I 
 loved her passionately stilL I glared at her for an instant, and then 
 replied, ' This will end badly, Miss Argal— no young lady can trifle with 
 a gentleman with impunity.' Her lip curled, and she said, coolly, ' Oh, 
 you mean you are going to fight Harley ? Well, why don't you try it, 
 sir ? Are you afraid that he is a better swordsman, and will finish you ? 
 I have no doubt this is your objection, and I don't believe you would 
 dare to face him !' I solemnly declare that these were her exact words. 
 I leave the readers of this paper to decide if in many cases they would 
 not have produced that awful tragedy, a mortal contest between brothers. 
 I said nothing, however ; I looked at her with pale and trembling lips 
 only, and went away. Three days afterwards, Harley was called to Mr. 
 Argal's again, and on his return looked serious and troubled. 'Miss 
 Argal is a singular person,' he said to me after dinner, with great 
 gloom ; 'can she wish to place you and me, Ohnrles, opposite each other 
 with swoids in our hands? I should so imagine from her conversation 
 to-day ; a strange person !' I did not reply, except by some common- 
 place. I loved the young woman still with too passionate a love. I 
 could not speak against her. For more than two weeks thereafter, I was 
 her slave, her dog. I crawled back when she lashed me away, and tried 
 to kiss the hand which struck ma I say this, because all the truth shall 
 be known. I have no resolution — I never had any ; I am the powerless 
 Tic dm of this infatuation ; and if this moment Bertha Argul were to 
 enter the room, and smile on me — even after all— I would obey her in 
 anything she commanded 
 
 "But my narrative must come to an end. Four days ago 1 went to 
 see her for the last time. She met me with scorn and satirical smiles, 
 which soon became sneers. So I had determined not to be whipped 
 away, had I?' she asked : S I had come sneaking back to moan out that 
 she no longer loved me ; that she loved my brother, which she now 
 begged leave to inform me was a fact, and that I was wretched.' ' Yes, 
 I said, 'all you say is true.' 'Then joxl are a fool for your pains, sk, 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 141 
 
 she said, ' and your presence makes rne sick . You, a brother of Harlej 
 Austin ! you, with your feeble snivelling complaints, and begging, th« 
 brother of that strong, resolute man ! Yes, sir ! I love him, and he shall 
 love me ; and if you don't like that, you may put an end to yourself ; it 
 will be a matter of very small interest to me !' I looked at her as she 
 spoke, and shuddered. She was super-humanly beautiful ; I would have 
 given all the countless worlds of the sky, had I possessed them, to have 
 clasped her for a single moment in my arms. She saw her influence 
 over me, and her lip curled. ' You haven't resolution, however, for the 
 act,' she said; ' if I were a man, and fortune went against me, I'd do as 
 the ancients did, get rid of life. And now, sir, you will please leave me, 
 I am tired of you. Ah ! here comes Harley !' And turning her back on 
 me, she hastened to the window, and smiled at the visitor. 
 
 "I set my teeth close, put on my hat, and went out. Harley and T 
 passed each other with some constraint on his part ; I was quite calm, 
 for I had made up my mind. I returned to the hall and wrote on a 
 piece of paper which I knew would meet my brother's eye, the words : 
 ' Think well, before you marrjr Bertha Argal, brother. She has broken 
 my heart — attempted to drive me to a bloody combat with you, knowing 
 who would be victor, and now advises me to end my despair by my own 
 hand. I obey, for life has no longer any charm for me. Farewell. ' I 
 signed this, and have come hither to Mrs. Butterton's to write and leave 
 this paper. 
 
 M In five minutes I shall be dead. Chaeles Austin." 
 
 These were the words which Falconb ridge read — then hii 
 glance fell upon these others in addition, in Mrs. Butterton's 
 hand-writing : 
 
 " The poor young man was found dead when we ran at 
 the explosion of his pistoL This paper was lying on the 
 table. Mr. Harley Austin returned it to me, not wishing to 
 keep it ; he has since left the country." 
 
 Falconbridge remained motionless throughout the entire 
 night. As the sun streamed in, he aised his face, whicii 
 was covered with a deadly pallor, and groaned* 
 
FAIRFAX ; OB, 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 THE THREADS OF THE WOOF. 
 
 OURS, days and weeks have fled away since the 
 scenes and events which we have endeavored to 
 place before the reader's eyes. The year wanes 
 fast. The brilliant sunlight of October haa 
 yielded to the hazy influences of November. The sky is no 
 longer blue: the trees are dismantled of their splendid 
 trappings. Under the chill heaven of a leaden color, the 
 broad face of nature resembles some great hall, from which 
 the gorgeous hangings have been torn, the trophies of ban- 
 ners removed — in which the lights are slowly going out, as 
 after a great revel, when the guests have all departed. 
 
 The plover cries and the partridge whistles on the wind- 
 swept hills — the wild geese wing their way toward the 
 south — the crane stalks with a sombre and weird air among 
 the shallows of the water-courses, dreaming, you would say, 
 of other lands — and from the northwest wander cutting 
 blasts, preluding the approach of winter. 
 
 But the human hearts beneath the chilly sky beat as be- 
 fore. The personages of our drama follow still, the bent of 
 their diverse pas> ons, humors, and desires. The hot blood 
 in their veins pulsates, and hastens to and fro, as strongly. 
 
 Lord Fairfax and Oaptain Wagner hold interminable dis- ' 
 cussions on the state of the border, and the best means of 
 defence, now thit the Indian inroad may be soon expected 
 The worthy sole 'er is content to pass his time thus — alter- 
 nately debating with his lordship, and pursuing his own 
 ppecial campaign against the enemy at Van Doiing's Ordi- 
 nary: he sleeps, and eats, and drinks, and pliilosophizes, noi 
 without many camp expletives, uttered in a jovial and son- 
 
TEE MASTER )!• GREENWAI COtm. 143 
 
 orous voice, the sound of which seems encouraging to the 
 Earl, for he greets these outbreaks on the part of the Cap- 
 tain, with his uniform grim smile. 
 
 Meanwhile George is occupied by his own affairs also. 
 He surveys the surrounding lands assiduously for the Earl ; 
 sleeps often in the woods, his head resting on his knapsack; 
 and it happens that the direction of his toils is often toward 
 the south. 
 
 There the great Fort Mountain raises its double wall, blue 
 against the dun heaven, and within the embraces of the 
 shaggy arms — perched like an eagle's nest in the declivity 
 of the mountain — he sees the cottage in which Cannie lives. 
 He loves the little maiden now with the fondest devotion. 
 She has become all the world to him, and dwells in his 
 thoughts wherever his footsteps turn — in the prairie, and 
 the forest, by night and by day; it is always Cannie of whom 
 the youth is dreaming; around her he weaves that tissue of 
 romance and fancy which the bounding heart of youth 
 adorns with such resplendent gems. George goes often to 
 the mountain dwelling, and there all the outer world disap- 
 pears. He is alone in the great universe with one whose 
 grave, sweet smile lights up his life — whose frank, open 
 brow is the mirror of truth and goodness — in whose eyes he 
 finds the charm which only exists for the youthful lover 
 And Cannie now no longer looks upon him as a stranger 
 He has become day by day, more an influence upon her life 
 — her innocent heart beats fast when his tall and erect fig- 
 ure enters the doorway — when his sunny smile, lighting uj 
 the firm hps, and frank, true face, beams on her. She does 
 not disguise her affection now, for she knows it is returned 
 — but her fondness for her youthful companion never be- 
 trays itself in a manner repugnant to the most delicate 
 maiden modesty. It is Ca».nie's nature to be honest and 
 true — but she is ripening into a "young lady" now; and sc 
 George can only guess from the serious smile, and kindlj 
 eyes, her secret. 
 
144 
 
 FAIRFAX; OR, 
 
 Their lives glide on thus, and no incident breaks fch<> spell 
 which is woven day by day more closely around the young 
 hearts of the maiden and the youth. The old grandfather 
 alone with his books, his chemical machines, or with whatever 
 occupies his attention; they are by themselves in the world 
 of reverie and fancy. It is true, that from time to time, as 
 they wander like happy children along the mountain side, 
 or to the lofty brow of the sleeping giant, that a shadowy 
 figure follows and marks the way they take — but this figure 
 is unseen by them. It is the young Indian whom the reader 
 has once looked upon, on that beautiful day of October — 
 hidden among the leafy branches of the great oak, and de- 
 scending to follow, then, as now, the footsteps of the pail, 
 He still preserves his air of grave and lofty dignity — his eyes 
 have the same expression of mild truth and honesty — his 
 lips move as before, and utter the sad murmur which seems 
 to indicate a possessing thought. His eyes never wander 
 from the form of Cannie when she is in the circle of his vis- 
 ion — he seldom betrays any other emotion than a jealous, 
 watchful guardianship over her ; if his features contract 
 slightly, and his broad bosom heaves, when she bestows 
 upon her companion some little mark of her affection, this 
 exhibition of feeling is soon suppressed ; the old gravity re- 
 turns ; and the young chief glides into the deep woods, and 
 disappears, as lightly and silently as a shadow. 
 
 And Falconbridge — what of him? Has the darknesi 
 .which enveloped all his life upon that awful evening, when 
 he read the letter of the suicide, been dissipated ? 
 
 Wholly. 
 
 A few days afterwards he encountered Captain Wagner at 
 the Ordinary ; the soldier, who had been informed by Mrs. 
 Butterton of the step which she had taken, almost feared to 
 meet the young man, or witness his agony. He expected to 
 find Falconbridge bowed to the earth with anguish — to hear 
 only groans and stifled sighs — to see, in the pale cheek, the 
 lack-lustre eye, the drooping form, those evidences of suf- 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 145 
 
 fering which betray the victim of despair. Instead of 
 such a figure, he saw Falconbridge happy, smiling, buoyant. 
 His head rose proudly erect; his eyes shone with a joyous 
 light; his lips were wreathed with smiles; he was the picturo 
 ef one across whose brow a cloud has never passed. The 
 worthy Captain started, and looked with unfeigned astonish- 
 ment upon his companion. The quick eye of Falconbridge 
 discerned at once the meaning of this expression. He 
 laughed gaily, and then said, with earnest simplicity: 
 
 " I know why you start , so, comrade — why you are as- 
 tounded at seeing me thus happy-looking. That well-mean- 
 ing lady, your friend, has doubtless told you of her warning 
 to me. It was honest and kind in her — but it made me 
 very miserable." 
 
 "And then," said Captain Wagner gloomily, "what hap- 
 pened afterwards? 5 '* 
 
 "What happened? "Why what could happen, comrade? 
 I went to the person charged with this awful duplicity and 
 heartlessness. I asked her to say what was the r»'al truth — 
 and I heard it. She raged at' the accusation ; vainly at- 
 tempted to extort from me the author — and then giving way 
 to her feelings, burst into tears, and told me al T , explained 
 everything." 
 
 "Oh! she explained everything, did she?" said Captain 
 Wagner, with gloomy irony; "no doubt she made all quite 
 clear." 
 
 " Oh, perfectly ! How could your friend have seriously 
 thought that paper written by the poor unfortunate youth 
 who killed himself, an actual narrative of facts ?" 
 
 "It was all a romance then ?" said the Captain, with the 
 same sardonic contortion of his lip, " it was o; ily a little im- 
 aginary story which he amused himself in wi lting, to wile 
 away the time before he blew his brains out !' 
 
 "Captain, Captain !" said Falconbridge earnestly, " your 
 voice has a terrible sneer in it; your curling lip "strays scorn 
 and iaeredulity I" 
 
146 
 
 FAIRFAX; OR, 
 
 " Well, it betrays what I feel," returned the soldier, loot 
 ing at the young man with wistful and gloomy eyes ; " it 
 talks plainly, doe3 this curling lip you -speak of, or I'm a 
 dandy! But I'll uncurl it; I'll sneer no more; I'll not 
 wound you Falconbridge — and have only to say that 'twas 
 truly unfortunate that this mad youth made up such a horri- 
 ble story." 
 
 " Mad /" said Falconbridge, with a quick glance at his 
 companion, " then you heard of his madness!" 
 
 " No," said Captain Wagner, " but I have no doubt that is 
 the fair young lady's explanation." 
 
 " Yes, assuredly ! who could have doubted it ? The truth 
 is that the unhappy lover's tale was only the sick fancy of a 
 diseased mind. He did pay his addresses to Miss Argal — he 
 did love her passionately — but she told him frankly a hun- 
 dred times that she could not respond to his affection. She 
 tried to do this as kindly and tenderly as possible, but her 
 reply only enraged him. There was a tendency to madness 
 in his family, and this made her peculiarly anxious to soothe 
 him. He would not be soothed however; in their last in- 
 terview he yielded to a crazy fit of wrath — he rushed 
 furiously away with his hand upon his forehead, and 
 three days afterwards Miss Argal heard with inexpressible 
 astonishment and horror that he had put an end to his life. 
 The statements of the paper were the mere fabrications of 
 his rage and madness — the creations of a diseased intellect, 
 aiming at revenge. That is all. Is not the explanation per- 
 fect r 
 
 " Yes," said Captain Wagner, as calm and cold as ice, 
 f< perfect. I have rarely heard anything so simple. And 
 what did you do with the dead man's letter ?" 
 
 " I begged it of Mrs. Butter ton, she yielded — it is ashes." 
 
 Captain Wagner moved his head up and down with the 
 same icy expression ; set his teeth firmly together ; and, 
 after a moment's silence, said in a low voice : 
 
 " Falconbridge, are you a fatalist ?" 
 
.fi* MASTER OF GItEKNWAY COURT. 
 
 147 
 
 "A fatalist?" said the young mars, looking curiously at 
 his companion, " surely not, comrade. God rules us and 
 directs our lives — all issues rest in his merciful hands, and 
 we are told thdt not even a sparrow falls without the know- 
 •ege of the kind Father of the Universe. I trust in all to 
 him— as I pray to him night and morning as my mother 
 taught me at her knee. No, I am not a fatalist." 
 
 " Well, from this moment I am," said the soldier, with a 
 sombre glance ; " I don't deny your religious views — but I 
 am none the less, from this day, a fatalist !" 
 
 With these words the Captain entered the Ordinary, and 
 Falconbridge, with a serious expression, mounted his horse 
 to go to Mr. Argal's. 
 
 This was the state of things, in connection with the main, 
 personages of our narrative, at the moment when we again 
 take up the thread of events. From this time forth, each day 
 %nd hour, everything ripened and advanced toward the 
 jAtostrophe of the drax«° 
 
148 
 
 FAIRFAX; OB, 
 
 XXX. 
 
 THE ARREST. 
 
 OEOSS the prairie, sobbing mournfully now in the 
 chill, autumn wind — under the bare boughs of the 
 forest, studded here and there with evergreens, 
 ^hich only looked more cheerless from the sur- 
 rounding desolation —through the sparkling waves of the 
 Shenandoah, and into the rugged defile of the Fort Moun- 
 tain, George passed at a rapid gallop, his eyes full of gloom, 
 and his brow contracted. 
 
 Lord Fairfax had informed him that on this day " Old 
 Powell," as he was called, would be arrested on the charges 
 made against him by a justice named Hastyluck, and the 
 officials would probably go early. 
 
 Georgo had received this information on the night before, 
 with utter horror and astonishment, and had besought Lord 
 Fairfax, if the charge were witchcraft, to dismiss it as ab- 
 surd and ridiculous. His lordship had replied coolly that 
 this was quite out of his power, even if consistent with his 
 convictions ; all he could promise was, that no act of op- 
 pression should be performed; and with this George waa 
 compelted to be content. 
 
 He scarcely slept, and at daybreak was on his way to tha 
 mountain. 
 
 Never moderating the speed of his horse, whose mouth 
 was filled with foam, he rapidly ascended the steep bridle- 
 path and reached the door of the little mansion. 
 
 The scene which greeted him made his cheek flush and 
 his eyes flash Are. 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 149 
 
 The officers of the law had already arrived, and placed the 
 old man under arrest. One of them was curiously examin- 
 ing the strange coin which George had seen on a former oc- 
 casion, and which the man had picked up from among some 
 books on a table — the other was about to place upon the 
 wrists of old Powell a pair of iron hand-cuffs, in spite of the 
 tearful and trembling prayers of little Cannie, who had 
 clasped the arm of his shaggy overcoat, and begged him, 
 crying, not to use them. 
 
 George advanced quickly into the apartment, and confront- 
 ing the officer, said sternly : 
 
 " That is quite unnecessary, sir ! Mr. Powell cannot escape 
 from you !' 
 
 The officer turned hastily, and said with an insolent 
 scowl: 
 
 " Who are you, pray ?" 
 
 "My name is of no importance," George returned, with 
 a hauteur in strong contrast to his democratic opinions; "it 
 is enough, sir, that I command you in the name of Lord 
 Fairfax to conduct the prisoner unfettered to Van Doring'a 
 Ordinary." 
 
 And putting his hand into his breast he extended toward 
 the person whom he addressed a slip of paper, upon which 
 was written: 
 
 "I desire, and if necessary require that the prisoner Powell may be 
 treated with all respect, and especially brought to Court without hand- 
 cuffs. 
 
 " Fairfax. 
 
 «• Geeenwat Coubt, 5th Nov. 1748." 
 
 George's foresight had led him to ask this favor of the 
 Earl, which had been readily granted — and the vulgar 
 official had no courage to resist. He scowled at the young 
 man, whose cold, fixed look cowed him in spite of himself 
 and putting the hand-cuffs in his pocket, growled : 
 
 " Well it's nothing to me ; and you, old fellow, just come 
 
 \ 
 
150 
 
 FAIRFAX; OR, 
 
 along with you ? You'll have a hard time of it, cuffs or no 
 cuffs." 
 
 "It'll be harder 'n he thinks," here put in the other wor- 
 thy with a sneer. "If I ain't mistaken, this is a counterfeit 
 — he's a coiner, as I've heard hinted." 
 
 A flash darted from beneath the shaggy white brows of the 
 old man, and he reached forth to take the coin from the 
 hands of the speaker. But the hand fell at his side. An 
 expression of scorn which might have become a royal prince, 
 passed over his features, and he turned away. 
 
 " Mr. George," he said, bowing with courtly gravity to the 
 young man, "I need not say that I thank you from my heart 
 for this kind and thoughtful action. Of the result of this 
 foolish business I have no manner of fear. I commit my 
 child to you, in my absence — it is enough, to so honest a 
 gentleman." 
 
 Then adding calmly to the officials, who were evidently 
 impressed in spite of themselves, by the dignity and coolness 
 of his bearing, — " I will be ready in a few moments to attend 
 you," — the old man entered the inner apartment. He soon 
 returned wrapped in a comfortable overcoat, which reached 
 beneath the knee, and issuing forth, mounted the spare 
 horse which had been brought for him. How those intelli- 
 gent gentlemen, the constables, had expected him to hold 
 the bridle with his hands secured remains a mystery to thia 
 day — but the obstacle no longer existed — and with a tender 
 kiss upon Cannie's tremulous lips, and another bow tc 
 George, the prisoner set forward, between the two officers. 
 
 We shall pass over the scene between George and Cannie 
 —such distressing pictures are not to our taste. He con- 
 soled her with every possible assurance calculated to 
 calm her emotion — but all was in vain. The girl begged 
 him, with tears in her eyes, and nervous sobs, to take her to 
 her grandfather, and it was one of the hardest tasks which 
 George had ever undertaken, to resist these moving entrea- 
 ties. He did resist, however, by an immense exertion of will, 
 
TflE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 161 
 
 for he knew that to yield would be to add to the child's un- 
 happiness by showing her the old man, formally arraigned 
 for trial — and all Cannie could procure from him was a 
 promise that he would go at once and see that her grandfa- 
 ther was not treated cruelly. 
 
 " That should never be !" George said, with that flash of 
 the eye which betrayed the depth of his character, and 
 the strength of will lying beneath the calm exterior — " ho 
 would go at once ! there was nothing to fear !" 
 
 And leaping on his horse, he put spur to the animal, and 
 galloped at full speed down the mountain. 
 
 Cannie followed him with her eyes, which the tears almost 
 blinded, and prayed inaudibly for strength and protection 
 from One in whom she was accustomed to place all her trust- 
 She jsaw George disappear, in the forest — than reappear in 
 the open space, galloping violently as before : and finally, on 
 the banks of the river, saw him join the officers and their 
 prisoner. 
 
 Then the. whole cavalcade disappeared, and Cannie fell 
 upon the bench of the little porch, covering her face with 
 her hands, and uttering sobs so passionate that her bosom, 
 and the long, fair hair, which had fallen, and now rested 
 upon her shoulders, were shaken, as by a convulsion. 
 
153 
 
 FAIRFAX ; OB, 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 UGHTFOOT. 
 
 7$&ffif/' ^ preserved this attitude still, who«a a fool • 
 M$w top was heard upon the path near at hand, and 
 T^^f/^ raising her head she saw the young Indian, whom 
 hrS^jS^ we have twice alluded to in our chronicle. 
 
 He wa? clad as before, in fringed leggins, joined by a pli- 
 able garment of soft doeskin, reaching to his waist, which was 
 encircled by a leathern belt, upon one side of which were 
 secured a bundle of arrows : — his feet were protected by or- 
 namented moccasins, fitting tightly to the high instep and 
 nervous ankle: — above his brow drooped, as before, the vari- 
 egated plume, his badge of chieftainship. As he leaned upon 
 his long cedar bow and looked upon the child, his bare 
 breast slightly heaving, and his noble features full of tendei 
 pity and affection, he presented a subject for a great pain- 
 ter. 
 
 Cannie rose quickly to her feet, and hastening to his side 
 said hurriedly: 
 
 " Oh, Lightfoot ! I thought you were far away ! I know 
 ^ou will help me ! Can you take me over the river ? Grand- 
 pa is to be tried, and I must not, cannot stay here ! — Light- 
 foot, you are a good, true friend." 
 
 She stopped, overcome with agitation : — one hand resting 
 on his arm, her eyes turned up to his face beseechingly. 
 The young Indian looked into the sweet countenance with a 
 sudden color on his swarthy cheek, which betrayed the ex- 
 t tent of the interest he felt in the speaker. But when he 
 spoke, his words were calm and measured ; long training 
 had made self-control a second nature with him. We shall 
 
k THE MASTER OP GREENWAY COURT. 153 
 
 not record his reply in the broken English which was all he 
 possessed — though the sad, musical tones made that defect- 
 ive dialect not destitute of a singular charm. 
 
 " Is not Lightfoot the true friend of the Mountain Dove ?" 
 he said. " He has known her very well, and loved her for 
 many moons — and her father has been kind to the poor In- 
 dian who left his tribe to wander here among the places of 
 his childhood." 
 
 "And you have been kind, very kind to us, Lightfoot 
 You have more than once* kept the Indians from attacking 
 us — and I would have died that day when the moccasin bit 
 me, if you had not brought the herb to cure me. And now, 
 Lightfoot, you must be my friend. You must take me over 
 the river to Mr. Yeardley's — I know he will let me go in his 
 wagon to the court. Will you, Lightfoot ? — do not refuse 
 me, dear Lightfoot I" 
 
 The swarthy cheek again colored slightly, but the voice 
 was calm when he said : 
 
 " Lightfoot loves the little dove of the mountain — he will 
 do her bidding now and always — he would willingly die foi 
 her." 
 
 And with these grave words, which were accompanied by 
 a sudden flash of the eye, in which might have been read an 
 expression of deep tenderness, the young chief assumed the 
 attitude of one who waits patiently. 
 
 Cannie hastened into the house, threw a cloak upon her 
 shoulders, tied her chip hat under her chin, and came forth 
 again quickly. The two then rapidly descended the moun- 
 tain — the Indian often taking the little hand to assist his 
 companion over some obstacle in the path — and thus they 
 finally reached the river. From a sheltered nook, over- 
 shadowed by a great drooping pine tree, Lightfoot silently 
 produced a gum-log canoe, and placed the girl in it. A 
 sweep of the long paddle sent it ten yards into the current, 
 and they were soon on the opposite side of the river. As 
 carefully concealing the skiff as before, the Indian and hi* 
 
154 
 
 FAIRFAX; OR, 
 
 companion then hastened on, and before very long, came in 
 sight of Mr. Yeardley's. Lightfoot allowed the girl to go on 
 alone — and from his hiding-place saw her enter the ruc?« 
 mansion of the settler, before which a light wagon, drawu 
 by a pony, was standing. In ten minutes she came out 
 again, with the rough, but good-humored borderer, who 
 placed her in the vehicle, got in himself, and drove off. 
 
 Lightfoot leaned upon his cedar bow, and followed iho 
 wagon until it was out of sight, with his sad smile and look 
 of wistful affection. He was thinking of Cannie's parting 
 words, as she pressed his hand in both of hers and said : 
 
 " Come to our house to-morrow, Lightfoot ! — you are my 
 dear, kind friend!" 
 
 The words had made his breast thrill, and a joyful light 
 illumined his features. Then the sadness came, and he 
 murmured : 
 
 " She loves the pale-faced youth. I am naught to her. 
 But Manitou will speak. It is well." 
 
 With these words he turned and disappeared in the 
 forest 
 
THE MASTER OP GREENWAY COURT 156 
 
 I 
 
 xxxn. 
 
 HOW CAPTAIN WAGNER OVERTHREW HIS ADVERSARY. 
 
 N the main apartment of Van Doring's Ordinary, 
 the worshipful justices of the County of Fred- 
 erick were assembled, to take into consideration 
 all questions touching the order, defence, gov- 
 ernment, and general condition of the region under their 
 supervision. 
 
 The Ordinary had been selected for the place of meeting 
 at the request of Lord Fairfax." As one of the pieces of 
 business which would come before the worshipful justices, 
 was the selection of a permanent locality for the court, and 
 as Winchester and Stephensburg contended for the honor, 
 and emolument in question — said his lordship — it would be 
 fair to meet on the present (occasion at neither of those 
 places. Thus they would enter the arena of friendly com* 
 petition impartially, and without undue advantage. 
 
 These views had received the approbation of the en- 
 lightened justices, and they had accordingly assembled from 
 every direction at the Ordinary of Mr. Van Doring — riding 
 every description of animal of the horse species, and clad in 
 nhe most extraordinary diversity of apparel. Some of them 
 were gentlemen of the first class, and these were well 
 dressed, with some pretensions to grace and elegance. But 
 the majority were like Major Hastyluck, rather unfavorable 
 specimens of their species — low-browed, sharp-faced, wiry, 
 keen-looking individuals, who evidently had an eye to the 
 main chance under all possible circumstances, and, like a 
 celebrated gentleman of more modern times, thought it well 
 to be " shifty in a new country." 
 
 A large crowd of a nondescript character had assembled on 
 
156 
 
 FaikFaX; or, 
 
 the occasion — hunters, trappers, settlers — many of them 
 portly Germans, others trim, active Scotchmen:— and thia 
 crowd moved about in front of the Ordinary, drank system- 
 atically of Mynheer Van Doring's Jamaica, and during the 
 first hours of the day, entered with enthusiasm into the 
 business of trading horses — the animals being, for the most 
 part, plain to the inspection of all, at the long rack in front 
 of the tavern door. 
 
 About twelve o'clock a decided sensation was created in the 
 crowd by the appearance of a large English chariot, drawn by 
 four glossy horses, from which vehicle, when it paused before 
 the door, descended his lordship, the Earl of Fa irfax, Lieu- 
 tenant of the County of Frederick, and President of the body 
 of justices. Lord Fairfax, who carried into the wilds of the 
 New World something of the English idea of the propriety of 
 full dress, on occasions of ceremony, was very richly clad. His 
 coat was of brown cloth, decorated with embroidery; his 
 waistcoat of yellow silk, ornamented with flowers in silver 
 thread; from his bosom protruded a mass of snowy ruffles, and 
 his peruke was carefully powdered. Around him, as he issued 
 from the chariot, he drew the folds of a rich red velvet cloak 
 — and then inclining his head slightly to the admiring 
 crowd, he entered the Ordinary.* 
 
 A quarter of an hour after the appearance of his lordship, 
 the sheriff was heard uttering his loud brazen " Oyez ! oyez ! 
 oyez ! Silence is commanded — humhum — humhum- — hum ! 
 — God save the King!" — »nd the justices took their seats at 
 a long table, at the further end of the apartment, the Earl 
 occupying a large arm-chair in the centre. A little gentle- 
 man, with an irresistible business air, sat at one corner of 
 the board with a huge volume bound in leather, lying before 
 him — and near the door, at a respectful distance from the 
 
 * The chief details of this description are faithful to accurately preserved tradition. 
 •The tradition was communicated to the present writer by th6 son of a gentleman wb4 
 visited the Earl at Greenway Court — saw his handsome chariot, and red velvet cloak— 
 und dined in state at the broad board. 
 
THE MASTEE OP GKEENWAX COURT. 
 
 157 
 
 members of the court, the crowd — among whom might be 
 Been Falconbridge, George, and Captain Wagner, convers- 
 ing— -looked on with interest. 
 
 The clerk read some previous proceedings in a monoton- 
 ous voice — the justices consulted in a low tone with Lord 
 Fairfax ; — and then the Earl leaned forward and said, turn 
 ing his head first to the right, then to the left : 
 
 " Is the court prepared to vote upon the selection of a 
 county-seat? I need not inform you, gentlemen, that the 
 question will chiefly lie between Stephensburg and Winches- 
 ter. I shall, therefore, request each justice, as I address 
 him, to pronounce one or the other name, which I will note 
 down as it is uttered." 
 
 A considerable sensation among the crowd greeted these 
 words, and a hubbub of voices for a moment deafened every 
 one. 
 
 " Silence in the court I" cried the sheriff, with fierce in- 
 dignation; " silence, or the court-room will be cleared!" 
 
 " No, sir ! Winchester, or the devil take it !" resounded 
 clear and sonorous in the sudden silence, and the sherifl 
 started up with ferocious abruptness. 
 
 "Silence! Captain Wagner, you are disturbing the 
 court ! Silence !" 
 
 " My dear friend," said the voiee of Captain Wagner, as 
 that worthy advanced from the mass, with clanking spurs 
 and sabre, " I have the utmost possible respect for this most 
 honorable court, and the little remark which fell from me 
 was spoken confidentially to a friend, who is an advocate of 
 Stephensburg. Now, I'm only a poor soldier, and nothing 
 of a lawyer, but I will maintain that Winchester, and no 
 other place, ought to be selected for the county-seat. I 
 have my reasons," added the Captain, mysteriously, " and if 
 this most honorable and respectable body would listen to 
 the said reasons, I could satisfy their minds, or may 
 the" 
 
158 
 
 FAIRFAX J OB, 
 
 "What followed, or nearly followed, was lost in the Cap- 
 
 tain's huge beard. 
 
 The ghost of a smile flitted over the countenance of Lor J 
 Fairfax : — it was his favorite music, the sound of that mar- 
 tial and sonorous Toice — and he recalled all at once the 
 ' declaration of war " by the soldier, on his arrival in the 
 Valley. As to the Captain, he pushed up his great black 
 moustache with his linger — ran his eyes along the line of jus- 
 tices, among whom were Mr. ArgaL and Major Hastyluck- ■ 
 and finally concentrated his gaze upon the face of the EarL 
 with an expression which said, plainly, " Honor bright, mv 
 lord r 
 
 The lurking smile came again to the Earl's face, and turn- 
 ing to the court, he said : 
 
 " Gentlemen, if it is your pleasure, we will listen to Cap- 
 tain Wagner's reasons for selecting Winchester. He is well 
 acquainted with the country, and its interests, and if you 
 permit him, may throw light upon the question." 
 
 A glance of much admiration from the soldier rewarded 
 his gtvnerous enemy; and when the court acquiesced in the 
 Earl'r; recommendation, the countenance of the worthv, 
 which before had been filled with the elements of fear, was 
 now fringed with the radiance of hope, and expanded with 
 the delight of a great orator who feels that the moment has 
 arrived for his triumph. The Captain bowed his head, then 
 raised his martial brow erect — and extending one arm per- 
 suasively, plunged with eloquence into the middle of the 
 subject. 
 
 It is again, as on a former occasion, matter of deep regret 
 to the faithful historian of Captain Wagner's exploits, thai 
 the absence of professional reporters, at that remote period, 
 renders it impossible to accurately record the vivid elo- 
 quence of his speeches. As in the case of Patrick Henry, 
 and other celebrated men, the legend of his power alone 
 remains. We may safely say, however, that the eulogium 
 pronounced upon the town of Winchester, by the military 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 159 
 
 orator, was oi.e of transcendent beauty and stirring impres- 
 siveness — while Stephensburg dwindled away into a tenth- 
 rate cross-road assemblage of huts, unworthy of the atten- 
 tion of any one for an instant. The Captain concluded by 
 a pathetic and affecting appeal to the honorable justices to 
 be guided in their decision by no considerations of self 
 interest, by no preference tor persons — to remember that 
 unborn millions would be affected by their determination, 
 and form their opinion of the members of the court by the 
 manner in which they discharged, on this great occasion, 
 their solemn and responsible obligations. 
 
 "With this eloquent appeal the Captain ended his oration, 
 and retired modestly into the crowd. 
 
 The smile on the Earl's face had come back in full force — 
 and turning to his associates, he said : 
 
 " Gentlemen, you have heard the reasons given by Cap- 
 tain Wagner, but I imagine you have discovered in them 
 nothing to largely modify any opinions which you may have 
 before made up. If the members of the court are ready to 
 vote, I will submit the question." 
 
 As no objection was made, the Earl called in turn the 
 name of each — making a mark as they responded, either 
 under " Winchester," or " Stephensburg," which were writ- 
 ten upon a sheet of paper. The result was that the first 
 had five marks, the latter but four — and Winchester was 
 selected as the county-seat of Frederick by a majority of 
 one. 
 
 As he inscribed the last vote — that of the worthy Major 
 Hastyluck — a slight flush invaded the swarthy cheek of the 
 Earl, and he leaned back haughtily in his arm-chair. The 
 result seemed to cause him no less surprise than dissatis- 
 tion; and for a moment he remained silent, looking coldly 
 at the court. Then with an irritated flirt of the hand ha 
 tossed down the paper, saying, simply : 
 
 " Winchester is chosen." 
 
 The Earl's displeasure did not last, however. It plainly 
 
160 
 
 FAIRFAX; OR, 
 
 subsided after the transaction of some additional ousinesa 
 of a common-place nature; and when a short period for rest 
 was taken by the court, who went to supply themselves with 
 cups of Jamaica, Lord Fairfax approached Captain Wagner, 
 and said, calmly : 
 
 "Well, you are victor, sir — I congratulate you upon your 
 triumph V s 
 
 "My lord," said Captain Wagner, making the military 
 salute, "there is something finer than to get the better of 
 an adversary — it is to act toward that adversary with ihe 
 chivalry and fairness that your lordship has displayed on 
 this occasion/' 
 
 It was the Captain's honest opinion, and the ill -humor ol 
 Ihe gratified Earl completely disappeared. 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 161 
 
 xxxni. 
 
 THE WIZARD OP THE MASSINUTTON. 
 
 T was not until late in the evening that the case 
 of the singular inhabitant of the Fort Mountain 
 came up for examination. 
 He was brought from the private apartment in 
 which he had been confined, into the main room in which 
 the array of justices were seated behind the long table, and 
 directed to sit down until he was called — "when," added 
 the individual who had arrested him, "you'll have a chance, 
 my proud-looking old fellow, to say if you are guilty, or not 
 guilty, and I've got my opinion as to how it'll turn out." 
 
 "With these comforting words the vulgar officer retired, 
 and left his prisoner to himself. That personage seemed to 
 pay no manner of attention to him who thus addressed him. 
 Had no one been beside him — no voice sounded in his ears 
 — he could not have exhibited a more perfect unconscious- 
 ness of being spoken to. He was looking with a gloomy 
 and fixed glance at Lord Fairfax, who occupied his former 
 position in the middle of the line of justices : and thus, mo- 
 tionless, stern, wrapped from head to foot in his old gray 
 over-coat, shaggy and soiled with long use, he presented a 
 singular spectacle. His long gray hair half covered his face, 
 which inclined forward, and the keen eyes, burning beneath 
 the bushy wnite eyebrows, were never removed for a mo- 
 ment from the face of the Earl. 
 
 The rude crowd swaying to and fro at the door, regarded 
 the prisoner with superstitious interest; and as the shades 
 of evening began to descend, and his figure grow gradually 
 less distinct in its outlines, they watched him with as much 
 
162 
 
 FAIRFAX ; OR, 
 
 intensity as if they had expected him ere long to melt into 
 thin air, and disappear, with a disagreeable smell of sulphui 
 only left behind. 
 
 The remote and retired life of the old man, his system- 
 atic non-attendance upon any occasions of public assembage 
 in the small towns, or at social gatherings — the mysterious 
 maimer in which he had arrived a year or two before, up 
 one knew whence — and above all, the dense smoke which 
 was frequently seen, even in the hottest days of summer, 
 curling above the summit just beneath which his cottage 
 was situated — all these things had strangely impressed the 
 rude and credulous inhabitants of the frontier, and led them 
 to bestow upon him the name by which he was known 
 throughout the region — "The Wizard of the Massinut- 
 ton." 
 
 What had induced the drunken justice, Hastyluck, to set 
 on foot a prosecution against him for diabolical proceedings, 
 it was difficult to say. It may have been some private spite 
 — or the attempt of a sottish hanger-on to bolster up a 
 damaged reputation by an affectation of zeal in his office of 
 justice — or lastly, the mere enmity of a small, ill-natured 
 mind against one apparently without friends. 
 
 However this may be, it is certain that Hastyluck set the 
 matter on foot; and in his vagabond wanderings among the 
 rude and ignorant settlers — especially those from the witch- 
 haunted land of Germany-^-he had experienced little diffi- 
 culty in impressing upon their minds the idea that every 
 misfortune which had ever happened to them had been 
 caused by the-" Wizard of the Massinutton." More than one 
 of these superstitious people were now present, prepared to 
 testify with the utmost distinctness against the prisoner — 
 and Major Hastyluck, who had spent a considerable por- 
 tion of the day in swilling Jamaica in Mynheer "Van Dor- 
 ing's inner room, now rubbed his hands and regarded thi 
 *yx> wizards seated before him with maudlin triumph. 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 165 
 
 " The prisoner, Powell," said Major Hastyluck, in a thick 
 and stammering voice, "will now be arraigned." 
 
 Lord Fairfax, whose place had thus been unceremoniously 
 assumed by the drunken Major, turned with a frown to that 
 gentleman, and said with some hauteur: 
 
 " I pray you, sir. permit the business of the court to pro- 
 ceed regularly.* 
 
 To which cold words. Major Hastyluck, who was quite 
 beyond the influence of hauteur, responded with the re- 
 markable words, uttered with shocking indistinctness; 
 
 " Hans Doppelkraut '11 tell you !" 
 
 After which the Major assumed an expression of much 
 dignity, and attempted to pare his nails with a goosequill. 
 
 The Earl bestowed a withering glance upon his associate, 
 which, however, fell powerless, and making a sign to the 
 sheriff, that excitable gentleman summoned the prisoner to 
 stand and say whether or not he was guilty of witchcraft. 
 The prisoner, thereupon, rose and said, "I am not guilty," 
 in a calm and indifferent voice. Then taking his seat, he 
 fixed his eyes as before upon Lord Fairfax. 
 
 Carl ZeUycreffer being called, testified in broad German, 
 that his child had been afflicted with internal dropsy and 
 rickets, which he believed to have been caused by the wiz- 
 ard. Being interrogated as to the foundation for this opin- 
 ion, his reply was unsatisfactory. 
 
 Hans Doppelkraut succeeded this worthy. Hans testified 
 that he believed his cattle to have been destroyed by the 
 wizard's shooting them with hair balls, as no marks of dis- 
 ease, or violence were discovered upon them : — his neighbor, 
 Flangel, who was too sick to attend, was certain that his ill- 
 ness was caused by the wizard's changing him into a horse, 
 bridling and saddling him, and riding him at full speed over 
 the very top of the Fort Mountain, to a meeting of witches 
 and wizards in the " Hog Back." He, the witness, did no* 
 know how this was — but he could say, that in his opinion 
 his own cows had been made dry by the prisoner, by fixing 
 
164 
 
 FAIRFAX J OB, 
 
 a pin in a towel for each cow — hanging the towel over a 
 door, and drawing the milk from the fringes. The officer 
 had told him they had seen a towel at the prisoner's house : 
 — and that the "Hog Back " was the most probable place 
 for a meeting, such as neighbor Flangel had declared he was 
 ridden to, saddled and bridled, with heavy spurs dug every 
 instant into his sides — which marks, by some witchcraft of 
 the prisoner, were, however y not visible when he returned to 
 his human shape. 
 
 Having given this perspicuous testimony, Hans Doppel- 
 kraut stood aside, and Joe Gunn, hunter and trapper, waa 
 called. 
 
 Joe Gunn, for his part, didn't know whether there was 
 any sech thing as witchcraft or not, and only hearn about it. 
 He had been acquainted with hunters who said their guns 
 were bewitched and wouldn't shoot straight — and when 
 Black, one of his hounds, couldn't be got to hunt of late, he 
 had burnt him in the forehead with a hot iron — after which he 
 didn't know whether he hunted or not, for, like an ongrate- 
 ful varmaint, he run away. Major Hastyluck there had told 
 him, Joe Gunn, "strange things was in the wind now- 
 abouts " — and asked him if he was well; when he, Joe Gunn, 
 told the Major that he did have a little tetch of the rhuma- 
 tiz from sleeping out o'-nights on the ground, the Major had 
 asked him solemnly if he was sure that this was not caused 
 by Powell. He, Joe Gunn, replying that in this miserable 
 world there was nothing whatsoever that was nat 'rally sar 
 tin but unsartinty, the Major had advised him to draw a pic- 
 ture of the wizard on a plank, and shoot at it with a bullet 
 containing a bit of silver. His old woman wouldn't hear of 
 any such waste of precious metals, and he fired away at the 
 picture, drawn on the fence in charcoal, with an ordinary bul- 
 let. The Major told him the bullet would hit the old wizard 
 all the same as if he was really there — and so, not wanting 
 to kill anybody, and knowing Long July Ann, his rifle, sent 
 the ball right where he put the bead, he aimed rib tho right 
 
V 
 
 THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 166 
 
 shoulder, and put it there. If the talk about wizards was 
 true, the prisoner ought to have an ounce of lead in his right 
 shoulder — which he, Joe Gunn, wouldn't like to have in his 
 own — and that was all he knew about it.* 
 
 A singular expression of surprise passed over the face oi 
 the prisoner, who nevertheless did not move. 
 
 " Search him, search him, according to the law of witch- 
 craft!" came with maudlin energy from the drunken Major 
 on the bench: — and many of the justices evidently acqui- 
 esced in the propriety of this proceeding. But before the of- 
 ficious worthies of the law could approach, the prisoner 
 rose slowly to his feet, and opened his lips to address the 
 court. 
 
 * "The belief in witchcraft was prevalent among the early settlers of the Western 
 country. To the witch was ascribed the tremendous power of inflicting strange and in 
 curable diseases, particularly on children — of destroying cattle by shooting them witti 
 hair balls, and a great variety of other means of destruction — of inflicting spells and 
 curses on guns and other tilings — and lastly, of changing men into horses, and after 
 bridling and saddling them, riding them at full speed over hill and dale to their frol- 
 Icks and other rendezvous. T . . Wizards were men supposed to possess the same 
 
 mischievous power as the witches The diseases of children, supposed to 
 
 be inflicted by witchcraft, were those of the internal dropsy and the rickets. The 
 symptoms and cure of these destructive diseases were utterly unknown in former times 
 in the country. Diseases which could neither be accounted for nor cured, were usu- 
 ally ascribed to some supernatural agency of a malignant kind. For the cure of the 
 diseases inflicted by witchcraft, the picture of the supposed witch was drawn on a 
 stump, or piece of board, and shot at with a bullet containing a little bit of silver. 
 This bullet transferred a painful and sometimes a mortal spell on that part of the 
 
 witch corresponding with the part of the portrait struck by the bullet Tho 
 
 witch had but one way of relieving herself from any spell inflicted upon her in any way 
 which was that of borrowing something, no matter what, of the family to which the 
 subject of the exercise of her witchcraft belonged ! I have known several poor 
 old women much surprised at being refused requests which had usually been 
 granted without hesitation, and almost heart-broken when informed of the caxise of 
 the refusal. When cattle or dogs were supposed to be under the influence of witchcraft, 
 they were burnt in the forehead by a branding-iron, or when dead, burned wholly to 
 asbes. This inflicted a spell upon the witch, which could only by removed by borrowing 
 as above stated. Witches were often said to milk the cows of their neighbors. This they 
 did by fixing a new pin in a new towel for each cow intended to be milked. This towel 
 was hung over her own door, and by means of certain incantations, the milk was ex- 
 tracted from the fringes of the towel after the manner of milking a cow. This hap- 
 pened," adds the reverend historian with dry humor, '« when the cows were too pool 
 to glv< much vxtik.''— Doddridge,' b Notes ; pp. 376-7, in Keretieval's History of *ftf 
 Valley of Virginia. 
 
166 
 
 FAIRFAX; OR, 
 
 At the same moment a stir was heard at the door, some 
 pitying exclamations were uttered by the crowd, and through 
 an opening which was speedily made for her, Cannie ad- 
 vanced into the court room. The wagon of good Mr. Yeardlj 
 had broken down, and she had just arrived at the Ordinary 
 —trembling, pale, shaking with an indefinable fear. 
 
 The sight of the old raan, however, seemed to give her 
 strength. The power of a resolute will, and a devotion 
 which spurned all fear, came to her assistance — without 
 shedding a tear, or hesitating a moment, the young girl, 
 with the air of a little queen, went to the side of the prison- 
 er, and throwing one arm around him, nestled close to his 
 bosom. 
 
 But the trial was too much for hex — the agitation she had 
 undergone too excessive — the proud and defiant look which 
 she directed at Lord Fairfax and the justices, was succeeded 
 by a nervous tremor, and burying her face in the old man's 
 breast, she clung to him, and sobbed wildly : 
 
 " Grand papa ! grand papa ! they shall not take you from 
 me! They shall not! — no they shall not, while I am 
 alive I" 
 
 A flood of tears followed these words, and for an instant 
 a dead silence reigned throughout the apartment. All eyes 
 were fixed upon the tall gray-haired man, clasped in the 
 embrace of the beautiful and devoted child — and as they 
 stood thus, bathed In the red light of the declining sun, there 
 was something so proud and noble in the forms of both, thafc 
 the crowd was hushed and awed. 
 
 The silence was broken by the prisoner. 
 
 " My Lord," he said, calmly, in his cold, austere voice, 
 "my Lord and Gentlemen of the Court, I beg you to take 
 notice that this presence of my child was against my wishes 
 — I would scorn to make use of any such vulgar trick to ex- 
 cite your sympathies. This absurd accusation of witchcraft 
 has been heard — the witnesses have testified — I might go tc 
 my house aga'u, cleared of the foolish imputation — but there 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COUBT. 
 
 167 
 
 Is still another charge to be brought against me, I believe 
 Before that charge is made, I crave a few moments' private 
 conversation with the presiding justice of the court- my 
 lord Fairfax. In making this request, I am not impelled 
 by any fear of the result, or any wish to conciliate your 
 lordship's favor. My child is agitated — I would be home 
 again — I have other reasons, my Lord Thomas of Denton 
 — Fairfax, I should say. I pray that I may speak with your 
 lordship." , 
 
 At the words " Lord Thomas of Denton," the Earl gave a 
 visible start and leaned forward in his chair, vainly endeav- 
 ouring to read some secret in the countenance of the prison- 
 er. But that countenance defied all his penetration — it was 
 cold and impenetrable — a mask might have conveyed more 
 expression. 
 
 Lord Fairfax-drew back with a deep sigh and a bewildered 
 look, which was extremely unusual with him — but said 
 nothing. Then seeming suddenly to recollect the request 
 of the prisoner, he rose to his feet and said hurriedly : 
 
 "I pray the court to suspend its business for a brief peri- 
 od. I am willing to grant the private interview which the 
 prisoner craves. I know not the character of the communi- 
 cation which he is about to make to me, if it be a communi- 
 cation—but trust I may rely upon the good opinion of my 
 honorable associates, that nothing will be taken into consid- 
 eration by me without their privity and advice." 
 
 Major Hastyluck, who had been for at least an hour with- 
 out a fresh potation, cheerfully replied for his brethren, that 
 they had perfect confidence in his lordship — and then the 
 Major showed the example by staggering pompously from 
 his seat toward the inner room. 
 
 Lord Fairfax, still absent and looking with vague curiosi- 
 ty toward the prisoner, made a sign to that personage, and 
 passed up the staircase to his private room. 
 
 The old man, with soothing words and a smiling caress, 
 entrusted Cannie into the hands of George, who hastened 
 
168 FAIRFAX; OB, 
 
 forward to offer her liis arm, and then wrapping his shaggy 
 over-coat more closely around him, stalked through the 
 group of insolent and astounded bailiffs after the Earl. 
 
 In a few moments the door was locked behind them, and 
 they were alone together. 
 
TEE MASTER OF GREEN* AY COURT. 189 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 THE PEISONEB AND THE JUDGE. 
 
 HE two men looked at each other for some mo- 
 ments in silence. There was something striking 
 and impressive in this silent examination by each 
 of his adversary ; and points of great similarity 
 were not wanting, at least in the carriage of their persons. 
 
 Neither of them had anything in common with the hum- 
 bler class of human beings. Both men, in their attitudes, 
 bearing, and poise of head and feet, were plainly of that 
 rank accustomed to command and not to be commanded, — 
 to question but not to be questioned. An indifferent spec- 
 tator would have said, however, that the mysterious " wiz- 
 ard " was the superior, and the stronger of the two. There 
 was something superb and haughty in the figure no longer 
 bent, but as straight as an arrow, in the eye flashing clearly 
 beneath the shaggy white eye-brow, in the proudly com- 
 pressed lip, the forehead raised calmly aloft. Lord Fairfax 
 had the air of a nobleman, but the stranger that of a mon- 
 arch. 
 
 " Well, sir," said the Earl, betraying unmistakable aston- 
 ishment, for no man had a quicker eye for the indefinable 
 evidences of superior character. " Well, sir, now for your 
 private communication. You have made a somewhat sin- 
 gular request, and used a mode of address which indicates 
 former acquaintance. Where and how did you learn that 
 * Lord Thomas of Denton ' was my name upon my patrimon- 
 ial estate, and there alone? Speak, sir 1— let us end thii 
 mystery. I listen I" 
 
 8 
 
170 
 
 FaIKFAX, OR, 
 
 And sitting down, his lordship motioned with coid cour- 
 tesy toward a chair opposite to his own. 
 
 His companion did not take the offered seat, out said 
 coolly : 
 
 "Then you do not recognize me, my lord?" 
 
 "No, sir; I find, it is true, something strangly familiar in 
 your features, but " 
 
 " Possibly I may assist your recollection," interrupted the 
 other; and throwing off his long overcoat, he stood before 
 Lord Fairfax metamorphosed from a rude backwoodsman 
 into an English gentleman clad in the most courtly and im- 
 posing costume. His coat was richly embroidered in scar 
 let — his frill snow-white, — his waistcoat of blue silk, loaded 
 with decorations, and falling over knee-breeches of the finest 
 material. 
 
 " Have you forgotten me ?" he said coldly, as he saw the 
 Earl give a great start and suddenly turn pale. 
 
 Lord Fairfax almost recoiled, as the stranger advanced 
 toward him, but by a powerful effort summoned his strength 
 again, and replied: 
 
 "I have not, sir. You are Sir William Powys!" 
 
 "Yes, my lord," returned the wizard with a frown, "I 
 am Sir William Powys ! Sir William Powys whom your 
 lordship's father stripped of nearly all his possessions in 
 Yorkshire — wlao swore enmity thirty years ago against your 
 family — whose body bears the scar of a pistol ball lodged 
 therein by your lordship, in the right shoulder here , as that 
 hunter by a strange coincidence, declared — who Las left the 
 Old World, as your lordship has left it, to come to the New, 
 and who here, as there, finds one of the house of Fairfax 
 eternally in his path, set in judgment over him, to oppose 
 him, and strive to direct him, in all his acts ; to endeavcr — 
 vainly! vainly my lord! — to thwart and to crush him! 
 Not content with alienating from me the heart of my daugh- 
 ter, and marrying her against my wishes !— not content with 
 shipwrecking my happiness and hope in the Old World, youi 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY CO CRT. 
 
 171 
 
 lordship lias followed mo hither ! — you a&semble a body oJ 
 low yeomen to try an English gentleman for witchcraft! 
 Had I not requested this interview, tho vulgar fellow who 
 arrestedme yonder would have preferred in addition a charge 
 of counterfeiting coin ! — against me. me, my lord ! Tine !" 
 
 And the old man, with flushed cheeks and forehead, looked 
 down upon the Earl with a fiery wrath which made hia 
 countenance almost terrible in its indignation. 
 
 Lord Fairfax did not immediately reply. He seemed en- 
 deavoring to control a sentiment as violent as that of his 
 companion. His compressed lips and heaving bosom indi- 
 cated the straggle which was passing in his mind, and he 
 was silent for some moments. The effort at self-control was 
 successful. His features slowly grew calm. The flush dis- 
 appeared from his face, and returning the other's gaze with 
 cold solemnity he said: 
 
 " Sir William Powys, what you have just uttered is an in- 
 justice unworthy of your character, and unlike your blood, 
 which, in all its representees with whom I am acquainted, 
 has been violent and implacable, but neither unfair nor un- 
 generous. You know well that I have had no part in origi- 
 nating this silly prosecution of you for witchcraft. You 
 know that I am simply among these people, not of them, — as 
 the Lieutenant of the county, as an official bound to act 
 officially. So much for that. And touching the subject of 
 counterfeiting, it was mentioned in my hearing but an hour 
 ago. These are the wrongs which I have inflicted upon you. 
 as you declare, in the New World !" 
 
 The Earl paused a moment, then continued gloomily: 
 
 " Of events in England I would rather not speak: except to 
 say that you have he r ... 'ual injustice. I do not be- 
 
 lieve that my father was narsn toward you — but let that 
 pass. In a single accusation, you are just. I did force a 
 quarrel with you and wound you, — I regretted it. I still re- 
 gret it; it was unnecessary. But touching the last charge,^ 
 here, Sir William Powys, I have nothing to blame myseli 
 
172 
 
 FAIRFAX; OB, 
 
 with. I honestly loved your daughter — she honestly joted 
 me; in spite of your hatred for my family, she became my 
 Countess — if against your wish, as you say, still not without 
 your legal consent. But enough, sir. These memories move 
 me bitterly. Let the past sleep. I do not speak angrily as 
 you see, Sir William; I address you as your rank and position 
 demand. I have done, sir." 
 
 There was so much nobility and sincerity in the tone of 
 the Earl, that his words evidently affected the listener 
 strangely. The menacing expression disappeared, and a 
 gloomy calm succeeded. 
 
 " My lord," he said, " I so far acquit you of this present 
 annoyance as to fully believe that you had no part in it. The 
 pain it has occasioned both me and my child, no less re- 
 main. There is, besides, no certainty that in future it will 
 not be repeated — and thus I have reason when I say that 
 the name of Fairfax is my evil genius, for you are the real 
 master and controlling influence in the country. But I pass 
 that by. You have said that my family is implacable. That 
 is only partly true of myself ; but I shall not discuss the 
 question. I shall simply say that toward yourself personal- 
 ly I have no ill feeling ; indeed I * am conscious of having 
 more than repaired all your injuries, as some day you will 
 know." 
 
 Lord Fairfax made a motion with his hand and said with 
 nobis simplicity: 
 
 " I would rather have it so than otherwise, sir." 
 
 The words seemed to dissipate still further the enmity of 
 bis companion. He sat down, and w T hen he spoke again, 
 his voice was greatly changed. It was almost sad. 
 
 "My lord," he said, "this is a strange and sorrowful 
 world — have you not found it so ?" 
 
 " Eminently," replied the Earl, sadly. 
 
 " I am more than seventy years old ; you must be nearly 
 or quite fifty. "Well, at our respective ages, men should 
 strive to forget the passions of their youth — the enmities 
 
THE MASTER GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 173 
 
 and hatreds which sear the soul. You have wronged me — 1 
 have wronged you. There let it rest. I am willing to forget 
 all, and to go upon my way without cherishing any thoughts 
 of vengeance in my heart. I will do more : I will right the 
 wrong I have done you — here the brows of the speaker 
 contracted painfully — "but not now. Let us come to tht 
 business which made me request this interview." 
 
 The Earl inclined his head with great courtesy, and lis- 
 tened. 
 
 " Nearly two years ago," said his companion, " I bought 
 of your agent here — I never.expected to see you in Virginia 
 — the tract of land upon which I live with my granddaugh- 
 ter. I removed from my small estate on the seaboard, be- 
 cause the chills and fevers of that region, for a portion oi 
 the year, render it dangerous to her constitution; and again 
 because she derives singular benefit from a mineral spring 
 in the ( fort ' yonder. I brought with me only a man and a 
 maid, intending to return in the cold season, but have re- 
 mained. One of the reasons for this decision, in addition to 
 the health of my granddaughter, was the discovery of a 
 mine of gold and silver, upon the tract, which I have worked 
 with the utmost success." 
 
 The Earl bowed with the same calm courtesy, and the 
 speaker continued : 
 
 " I know that by the charter granted to Lord Culpeper, 
 from whom you derive your property in this province, you 
 are entitled to one-fourth of the proceeds of all mines of gold 
 and silver discovered upon all lands within Lord Culpeper 'a 
 grant, and I have accordingly laid aside carefully one ingot 
 from every four, in a box marked " Lord Fairfax." In rela- 
 tion to the coin discovered by the bailiff, in one sense it is 
 counterfeit. I cast it from pure gold in a mould of clay, as 
 the amusement of an idle moment; and inasmuch as its 
 value, from the absence of all alloy, is one-fourth more than 
 that of real coin, I imagine my moral innocence of the 
 charge of coining may be established. I have made this 
 
 ! 
 
FAIRFAX ; OH, 
 
 explanation," continued the speaker, " in order to propound 
 to you an interrogatory. I do so that there may be no mis- 
 understanding, no ambiguity. Shall I be permitted to 
 remain in this region undisturbed by legal annoyances, or 
 must I go with my child to another ? The heart beats chill 
 at seventy, my lord, and a man is disposed to quiet. 1 
 would ask no favor; I would have you reply as a mere mat- 
 ter of business; I address myself to you as Lord Proprietor 
 of the Northern Neck in which I live, and chief executive 
 officer of the country." 
 
 "As such I reply, Sir William," said the Earl, calmly, 
 " that your further sojourn in the region shall be, as far as 
 lies in my power, wholly freed from all annoyance. If I 
 were not disposed to make you this assurance, with refer- 
 ence to yourself, I should do so for your granddaughter's 
 sake. I cannot forget that she would have been the cousin, 
 of my children. No more of that. In regard to the fourth 
 part of all gold mines, I do not claim that right in my char- 
 ter — or, if you insist, I reply that I wish the child to receive 
 the sum which you have laid aside — as a present from her 
 uncle by marriage. I pray you, sir, not to refuse me this 
 trifle. I shall not stop here, with your permission, in my 
 privilege of displaying my affection for my little niece. I 
 am truly proud to think of her as such ; a more perfect 
 young princess I have never seen than the child, as she 
 came to you in the court-room. But enough, sir. I shall 
 not let you offer me this gold again, as I think you intend ; 
 let us return and terminate this business. All shall end at 
 once." 
 
 And opening the door, the Earl made a courteous gesture 
 to the old man, who had again donned his long coat, to 
 precede him, which resulted in their issuing forth together. 
 In the two hearts thus close to each other, there was no 
 longer any enmity; but in the elder's there was pain, and a 
 gruel hesitation. 
 
 They entered the room where the members of the court 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. l?C 
 
 wer« seated, and in ten minutes Lord Fairfax had impressed 
 upon his associates, in private conference, the entire ab- 
 surdity of all charges brought against the prisoner. Indeed 
 the honorable justices were rather ashamed of themselves; 
 and many looks of disgust were directed toward the person 
 of Major Hastyluck, chief instigator and persecutor, who 
 was slumbering serenely with his face on the table. The 
 toils of his arduous position had overcome this watch-dog 
 of justice; after all his labors and his Jamaica, he " slept 
 welL" 
 
 The Wizard of the Massinutton was thus promptly dis- 
 charged, and in a moment two soft arms were around his 
 neck, and a face wet with tears was pressed to his thin 
 cheek. 
 
 . Cannie was crying on the old man's bosom.* 
 
 * The following extract from " A visit to the Fort Mountain," in the Southern Liter- 
 ary Messenger for February, 1811. will indicate the origin of the character of " Old 
 Powell ;" the first lines describe the Massinutton: 
 
 " On the left bank of the creek, the mountain crowds against the narrow road — on the 
 right, a granite escarpment of a thousand feet frowns down upon you — and the ravine 
 itself, clothed with a luxuriant growth of pines, cypresses, and laurels, deepens the gloom 
 of the overshadowing rocks. ... On a sultry day, dispersed along the comb of the 
 precipice, groups of these vultures (turkey buzzards) may be seen, with their broad, rusty 
 wings, half expanded to the breeze — resembling so many spirits of darkness, brooding 
 over the gulf of perdition. The view from the bank is splendid. Passage Creek is dimin- 
 ished to a rivulet, whose murmurs are faint as the dying wind in the pines around us. The 
 highway along its bank, seems but a winding footpath, over which the millboy's horse 
 —didst think it was a small brindled dog with a white spot on its back ?-*teals without 
 any apparent effort or motion of its own. What a majestic mountain ie this across the 
 defile 1 It looks like Atlas, strong enough to sustain the world upon its shoulders. 
 Within this fort a comparative abundance of wild game is still to be found, particulaily 
 wild hogs descended from the domestic breeds, but fierce as the monsters of the Py- 
 renees. It is called "Powell's Fort," after one of the first settlers of the country, th« 
 valley of the creek is also known as "the Fort.'' There is a curious and popular tra- 
 dition cherished in the neighborhood regarding " Old Powell." It is said that he wag 
 an advocate of a specie currency, and to assist the Government in the promotion c* a 
 specie circulation, (established a hard money factory on his own responsibility, a ad 
 coined thousands of the genuine "Caroltis III — Dei gratia" — procuring his metal 
 from mines in the vicinity only known to bim. Suspeeted, and fearing detectioa t 
 he hanseled up his immense treasure, and buried it at various places in the mountains. 
 Without disclosing the secret he died, an<i the barrels of silver still remain undlsturto^ 
 because undiscovered." 
 
176 
 
 FAIRFAX: 08. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 THE RESEMBLANCE. 
 
 HE old man gently caressed the soft hair of th« 
 child, and gazed into her face, which was all 
 April smiles and tears, with a depth of tender 
 affection which made the countenance, ordina- 
 rily so proud and cold, almost beautiful and winning. 
 
 Then raising his head, Sir William Powys, or the Wizard, 
 if we may be allowed to still employ the name by which he 
 was most generally known, looked around upon the crowd, 
 who regarded him with strange and superstitious interest. 
 There were many persons in the assembly whose heads had 
 moved significantly from side to side when the strange per- 
 sonage demanded a private interview with Lord Fairfax, 
 No good would result for his lordship, these wiseacres de- 
 clared, from yielding to this demand. Once alone with 
 him, the wizard would be sure to " bewitch " him — he 
 would cast a spell on him, and then vanish in a cloud of 
 brimstone. Some of these philosophers were by no means 
 pertain that if this were not the case, the mysterious wizard 
 would not be seen issuing from the window of the tavern, 
 mounted upon a handsome flying horse, once Lord Fair- 
 fax; now destined to bear the prisoner away in triumph to 
 aome diabolical revel of witches in the depths of the " Hog- 
 Back." 
 
 It resulted from this condition of public feeling, that 
 when the wizard, who had fulfilled the expectations of the 
 more moderate among the wiseacres, by procuring a prompt 
 acquittal through his interview with the Earl, looked round 
 upon the crowd, they recoiled with an unmistakable expre* 
 
THE MASTER OP GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 17i 
 
 Bion of dread, and left him standing, almost alone, with his 
 child, in the middle of the apartment. 
 
 A slight curl of the firm lip greeted this movement, and 
 the wizard was about to turn away indifferently, when 
 suddenly his eyes were riveted upon a richly-clad figure, 
 framed, as it were, in the doorway, and gazing upon him 
 with deep interest and sympathy. 
 
 That figure was that of Falconbridge, who, having 
 watched the absurd trial, and witnessed the scene between 
 the prisoner and his daughter, now rejoiced at the result, 
 and regarded them, as they stood wrapped in each other's 
 embrace, with kindly smiles and pleasure. 
 
 The wizard fixed upon the young man, as he stood thus 
 framed in the doorway, like a picture, one of those glances 
 which seem to penetrate into the soul of the person upon 
 vvhom they are riveted. There was much in the gallant 
 and graceful form of Falconbridge — in his proud, laughing 
 face, and elegant costume — to attract attention ; but the 
 look now bent upon him was not one of simple admiration 
 or curiosity. It expressed surprise, deep f erring, and a 
 species of wondering doubt. 
 
 The young man perceived the glance directed toward 
 him, and without understanding it, approached, and said, 
 kindly: 
 
 "I am rejoiced at your acquittal, sir; as much for your 
 own sake, as you seem very old, as for your little daughter. 
 My father taught me to respect and bow to purity and de- 
 votion wherever I met with them, and I think I cannot be 
 mistaken in saying that your child is both innocent and 
 courageous — faithful and noble-hearted." 
 
 "With these words, which were uttered in Lhac cone oi 
 simplicity and sincerity, which characterized his voice, the 
 young man held out his hand to Cannie, extending the 
 other toward the old man. 
 
 The girl's soft, little fingers glided into those o/ Fftlcoi* 
 
178 
 
 FAIRFAX : OR. 
 
 bridge, and a grave, sweet glance, shining through the tear* 
 in her eyes, rewarded the speaker. 
 
 " Thank you, sir,'* she said, in her low, musical voice, 
 " for speaking so kindly to us — to grandpapa. You are Dot 
 like those people who have gone — your face is kind." 
 
 And Cannie pressed the hand frankly, and looked 
 " thanks !" with her whole heart. 
 
 The old man had, however, drawn back unconsciously 
 when Falconbridge greeted him. He had not taken the 
 hand. Still, looking at him "with that strange air which we 
 have described, he said : 
 
 "What is your name, sir?" 
 
 The words were almost rude, but the tone in which they 
 were pronounced did not so impress the hearer. The 
 wizard plainly intended no slight — it was some mysterious 
 sentiment of wonder which spoke in his voice, in his abrupt 
 question : and the young man comprehended this instinct- 
 ively. 
 
 " My name is Falconbridge, sir," he replied, wth a courte- 
 ous inclination; "I have but recently come to this region." 
 
 " Falconbridge ! I thought so ! I was sure of it I" mur- 
 mured the wizard. " Strange ! Strange ! who would ever 
 have believed !" 
 
 There he suddenly stopped. By a sudden and powerful 
 effort he controlled his emotion; his countenance subsided 
 again into its customary calmness, and he bowed in return, 
 taking the hand which was still half extended. 
 
 "I t.iank you, Mr. Falconbridge," he said, coolly, "and 
 beg you will not attribute my singular question to any dis- 
 position to affront you. You bear a very remarkable resem- 
 blance to a person whom I once knew; this must be my 
 excuse for the very rude reception I have given to your kind 
 speech and sympathy." 
 
 " It is nothing — I scarcely noted it," returned the young 
 man, smiling, " and as to any kindness, I am sure, sir, 
 that I deserve no praise. My heart leaped whea your child 
 
THE MASTER OP GREENWAY COURT. 179 
 
 came so bravely to your side- -and I bow to, and honor her, 
 I have never seen a princess or a queen — but I think she is 
 worthy to be either 1" 
 
 "Oh, sir," exclaimed Cannie, blushing, "you make me 
 ft-el ashamed ! It was nothing for me to come to grand- 
 papa's side. He is all I have in world, and I love him 
 dearly, with my whole heart. And you, grandpapa," added 
 Cannie, turning and whispering to the old man with a smile, 
 " you know you love me just as dearly." 
 
 " That is very certain," was the low reply, accompanied 
 by the look which always came to the face when it was turned 
 toward the girl; " and now, my child, let us go to our 
 private room. We must remain here all night — but we will 
 return home early in the morning." 
 
 " Come with me, sir," said the voice of Lord Fairfax, at 
 the speaker's elbow, " I have ample room for you and your 
 daughter at Greenway Court — it will be far more comfort- 
 able." 
 
 "I thank you, my lord," returned the other, with a cere- 
 monious inclination, "but the nights grow chill, and my 
 daughter is delicate." 
 
 "The blinds of the chariot may be easily closed, sir," 
 said the Earl, looking wistfully at Cannie. 
 
 " Your lordship will not consider me ill-bred — that is to 
 say ungrateful — if I still decline your goodness. If my 
 child should wish at another time to visit Greenway Court," 
 added the old man, exchanging a look with the Earl, "it 
 will give me true pleasure to bring her thither — or to en- 
 trust her to our good friend here, Mr. George. May I take 
 that liberty, Mr. George?" 
 
 That liberty ! thought George, as his heart gave a bound 
 at the idea of a long gallop through the prairie, with Can- 
 nie's arm around his waist; but he suppressed his delight, 
 and replied with extreme gravity and politeness, that it 
 would give him very great pleasure. 
 
 "And now ? ray Jord," said the wizard, "let me, before I 
 
180 
 
 FAIRFAX ; OR, 
 
 leave you, say how much I am indebted, to your lordship 
 for my release from this prosecution — a prosecution which 
 I dreaded far more for the grief it caused my child than on 
 my own account. I am old, and care little what coraes to 
 me — whether of weal or woe — but she is young and tender- 
 hearted. Thanks ! thanks, again for our freedom !" 
 
 The speaker was standing as before, with his arm around 
 Cannie, and by them stood Falconbridge, smiling. Not 
 only the Earl, but George, and Captain Wagner, who were 
 near at hand, were struck with the singular resemblance 
 between the three, and afterwards spoke of it. One was 
 seventy, and gray-headed; the second twenty-three or four, 
 and in the bloom of manhood; the child, a girl of fifteen, 
 with innocent, sweet eyes, and tender hps. But the re- 
 semblance was as perfect in all three as if they were the 
 offspring of the same parents. 
 
 For a moment they remained thus motionless, then bow- 
 ing again, the wizard retired with Cannie to a private 
 room, having arranged with Mynheer Van Doling on the 
 way, for a vehicle in the morning. 
 
 Lord Fairfax turned to Falconbridge, and said ; 
 
 " I think you have not yet consulted me upon your affairs, 
 Mr. Falconbridge. If it suits your convenience at the pre- 
 sent moment, you might accept a seat in my chariot , and 
 sleep at Greenway. What say you, sir?" 
 
 " I accept your lordship's offer with many thanks " was 
 the reply. 
 
 And very soon the young man and the Earl were : oiling 
 toward Greenway, beneath the new risen moon, whio \ min- 
 gled its light with that of the setting sun, and commm icat*<? 
 to the dreary stretch of prairie land a wild and mysf erious 
 charm. 
 
 As to George, and Captain Wagner, they remained at the 
 Ordinary for reasons best known to themselves, but easily 
 comprehensible by the. reader. George staid because 
 Cannie would spend the night there ; the Captain because 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURX 181 
 
 his eloquence had triumphed in favor of Winchester; and 
 the fair Mrs. Butterton was, no doubt, ready to thank, per- 
 haps to reward him. 
 
 Meanwhile the chariot containing the Earl and Falcon- 
 bridge rollecj. on in silence. The few common-place words 
 had died away. Lord Fairfax seemed deeply preoccupied. 
 
 At last, as they approached the clump of trees, indicating 
 Greenway, the Earl raised his drooping shoulders, uttered a 
 long, deep ^igh, and muttered : 
 
 " I wonder if a single heart beats still for me, in dear old 
 England. No, I think not one ! — not one I" 
 
182 
 
 FAIRFAX: OR. 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 CAMPAIGN OP GENERAL LONGOIFE. 
 
 HE Captain twirled liis moustache. 
 
 We would call the attention of the reader to the 
 fact, which we have hitherto omitted to mention,, 
 that Captain Wagner was always engaged in 
 twirling his moustache. Or, if the statement seems extreme 
 and improbable, let us simply say that he was often thus 
 laboriously occupied, and seemed to derive much innocent 
 satisfaction from the ceremony. 
 
 On the present occasion he gave to the martial append- 
 age a jaunty and gallant curl toward the eyes; then he 
 looked at Mrs. Butterton, who was busily knitting opposite 
 the Captain, and the table by the Captain, upon which was 
 deposited the Captain's warm glass of punch and unfilled 
 pipe. 
 
 Monsieur Jambot, for the moment in deep disgrace, was 
 forlornly carrying on a sleepy conversation with Mynheer 
 Van Doring in one corner — a ceremony which resulted be- 
 tween the two in an awful mutilation of King George the 
 Second's English. In another corner George and Cannie 
 were talking in a low tone, and assisting what they uttered 
 with smiles and confidential glances. 
 
 "My dear Mrs. Butterton," said the Captain, "have you 
 any commands in Belhaven— or, as these new-fangled folks 
 will call it, Alexandria ? It's a shame to be re-christening 
 so promising a child — or I'm a dandy ! 
 
 "Any commands in Belhaven?" asked the lady with a 
 little simper and flutter; "why do you ask, Captain ?" 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 L83 
 
 "Because I think it likely that I'll go back soon to amuse 
 myself. You remain here, I believe." 
 
 These cold and cruel words made the lady's heart throb. 
 Then Captain Wagner cared nothing for her! 
 
 " les," she said, faintly, " perhaps till the spring." 
 
 U I would like to do as much myself," continued the 
 worthy, "but the rascally Injuns, whose scalps I was to 
 have, won't come, and it is repugnant to the feelings of a 
 soldier to be living on that honest fellow, Fairfax, without 
 doing him any service in return." 
 
 " Why, Captain," said Mrs. Butter ton, with evident admi- 
 ration in her eyes, for one who spoke in this free and easy 
 way of so great a nobleman, " why, Captain, his lordship is 
 delighted at your visit, and I heard him with my own ears 
 say, no longer ago than this morning, that you were worth 
 a thousand pounds a year to him in good spirits!" 
 
 "Ail flattery!" returned the soldier, "or I'm a dandy 1 
 I have remonstrated with Fairfax about that bad habit he 
 has of trying to ingratiate himself with people by flattering 
 them. He knew you were my friend — that you would re- 
 peat it — and he is trying to get around me." 
 
 " Oh, Captain ! How can you talk so of his lordship !" 
 
 The worthy laughed. 
 
 "He's only a man like anybody else, my dear Mrs. But- 
 terton ; it's not his fault that he is called Earl and Baron. 
 I'm free to say he'd be a dooms good fellow under any cir- 
 cumstances. I like Fairfax. He's no pretender. And I 
 repeat that I don't like to be eating and drinking, as / eat 
 and drink, at his expense, when the Injun devils decline 
 coming along and getting themselves done for! I was sent 
 for to eat Injuns, not beef 1 to drink blood, not Jamaica ! 
 And these Injuns — where are they ? Nowhere, or may the 
 -hum !" 
 
 The soldier terminated this sentence by swallowing a 
 mouthful of punch, which seemed to refresh him greatly. 
 " Why, Captain," said Mrs. Butterton, " you are certainly 
 
184 
 
 FAIRFAX J OR, 
 
 mistaken about the chance of an inroad. They say there's 
 no certainty of peace from day to day." 
 
 " My dear madam/' returned the Borderer, " it has been 
 my habit for a number of years to hunt up Mr. ' They Say, 
 and when I have heard his views to go and lay my plans 
 precisely to the contrary. I have no respect for ' Thov 
 Say.* I know the rascal — he is as completely ignorant ol 
 what is really going on as a mole! Even if the Injun ras- 
 cals do come along, let Fairfax send down for me! I can't 
 be neglecting my most important affairs dangling here- 
 abouts, and chopping arguments with his earlship !" 
 
 "Your affairs?'' persisted the lady, smiling, "why, Cap- 
 tain, you have no business in Belhaven, have you ?" 
 
 The conversation was taking the direction which the cun- 
 ning Captain desired. He smiled. 
 
 " Well, really," he said, " I hardly know how to reply to 
 you, my dear madam — to reply without touching upon a 
 most delicate subject — you comprehend ?" 
 
 The lady blushed, but said nothing. 
 
 "It is true," continued Captain "Wagner, "that many 
 people would say I had no business whatsoever to attend to 
 in Belhaven, like merchants, and shopkeepers, lawyers, and 
 all that small fry, who are thinking all the time of money 
 and nothing else — not like us soldiers, of honor and glory, 
 and — hem ! — love." 
 
 " Of— love ?" asked Mrs. Butterton, faintly. What could 
 the Captain mean? 
 
 "I would not refer to these matters with any one else, my 
 dear madam," said the worthy, edging his chair across to 
 Mrs. Butterton's side, and speaking in low, confidential 
 tones; " but you are my good friend, and are well acquaint- 
 ed with- -the lady." 
 
 " The lady " And Mrs. Butterton's voice died away in 
 
 her throat. 
 
 "The fair Emmelina, your friend," whispered the Cap- 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COCRT. 
 
 185 
 
 tain, bending over. But his companion's agitation made 
 her turn away her head — she could not reply. 
 
 " Miss Emmelina," continued the subtle campaigner, in 
 the same confidential tone, "is, it is true, past the bloom of 
 youth. She is nearly my own age, indeed, I fancy, and this 
 might seem to many persons an objection. But is it really 
 such ? I am tired, my dear madam, of your school-girls and 
 young misses — your sweet young creatures, full of sentiment 
 and romance — who clasp their hands when they look at the 
 moon, and read poetry verses and say, £ Oh, how beautiful!' 
 I don't say I never admired 'em, but I'm past all that, or 
 may — ahem! I now admire the ripe flower, not the bud 
 —I confess I want a wife, and it has seemed to me that 
 Miss Emmelina, your friend, whom you have so often 
 praised, would make a noble spouse — and likes me well 
 enough to give me a fair start — don't you think so — Emme- 
 lina?" 
 
 And the Captain scratched his nose, and regarded the 
 ceiling, after this tender exclamation, with an absent and 
 pre-occupied air, which was very striking. 
 
 As to Mrs. Butterton, that fair lady remained for some 
 time silent and blushing — then, on being again pressed by 
 the Captain, replied that she thought — she had hoped — she 
 — No ! Emmelina was not calculated to adorn the married 
 state. No doubt Captain Wagner would think — and hero 
 Mrs. Butterton assumed a tone meant for hauteur — that she 
 was unjust and unfriendly. Yet candor compelled her to 
 say that she knew Emmelina well, but in spite of a most 
 tender friendship for that lady, must say she was in the 
 sphere she was best calculated to fill — that of an old maid. 
 In that sphere, said Mrs. Butterton with animated feeling, 
 Emmelina was worthy of all praise. She had her little 
 faults, such as a propensity to gossip, a disposition to pry 
 into her neighbors' matters, and a talent for adding to and 
 Qploring all that she repeated, which no doubt arose from 
 her smartness. She had certainly been the cause of thai 
 
FAIRFAX ; OR, 
 
 terrible fight at the corner of King Street, where the two 
 lovers of her corner neighbor bruised each other so awful]- 
 and created such a horrible scandal; but she, Mrs. Butter- 
 ton, was quite sure that Emmelina had never expected any 
 such misfortune to take place in consequence of her com- 
 municating the trifle which she did to one of the young 
 men — it had given her great pain, and she had deeply re- 
 gretted it. With these, and a few other little drawbacks— 
 such as an undue love of money, a disposition to spend 
 nothing more than she was absolutely compelled to — a 
 strong dislike and suspicion of every one who did not belong 
 to her particular church, she was very well in her way, as 
 an old maid. Out of that condition, she, Mrs. Butterton, 
 very greatly feared that Emmelina would not be a very per- 
 fect character. She was little suited for a wife, still, if 
 Captain "Wagner thought differently, it was no affair of hers. 
 She hoped he would not find out too late the failings in 
 Emmelina's character. 
 
 Having made this lengthy speech, which the Captain lis- 
 tened to with silent attention and a subtle smile, Mrs. But- 
 terton applied herself to her knitting in a more hurried 
 manner than before, and assumed an air of studied indif- 
 ference. 
 
 " My dear madam," replied the Captain, with earnest and 
 solemn feeling, " I thank you for this interest in me, but 
 are you not misled somewhat in your estimate of the sweet 
 Emmelina, by the opinions of those persons who dislike 
 her ? Are the fair sex at all given to gossip ? I do 
 not, I cannot believe it, my dear madam! I will never 
 credit the assertion I True, I have heard it said that 
 when they get to be old women — even after the tender 
 and still blooming age of twenty-five, they experience the 
 extremest pleasure in the circulation of intelligence about 
 their friends. The irreverent and low-minded individual 
 who made this statement in my hearing, added, that the 
 truth was so dear to these angelic newscarriers, that much 
 of their existence was her and fondly dedicated to 
 
THE MASTER OF GREEN WAY COURT. 
 
 187 
 
 the task of decking it in bright apparel, and presenting it 
 in such a manner as to forcibly impress it on the minds oi 
 those who made its acquaintance. ' The poor, plain maiden 
 Truth/ this wretched person added, ' scarcely knew herself 
 when she was thus pranked out; and none of her old friends 
 could recognize her.' Now, all these base insinuations I 
 abhor and utterly reject and despise! Attribute to the 
 fair sex any such poor, narrow conduct? regard them as 
 laboring under this 1 disease,' as the low fellow worded it— 
 as the victims of a sickly craving ? Never ! never ! I don't 
 respect the man who allows his mind to be filled with such 
 base prejudices ! "What, madam ! Acknowledge that the 
 beautiful and superior sex — the better half of human beings 
 — fritter away their time and intellect on' little smirking 
 gossip and tittle-tattle ! Believe that they go round and 
 smile and whisper, and stab people in secret behind their 
 backs — and when they meet them afterwards, squeeze their 
 hands and look into their eyes with tender friendship ! Be- 
 lieve that when the female mind should grow in dignity and 
 sweetness, that it only waxes smaller and more narrow — 
 festering away into nods and smirks, and 1 guggle — guggle — 
 guggle — whish — sh — sh — sh !' beneath the breath ! Credit 
 this statement, madam ! think thus of the ladies ! — never 1 
 never ! The cynical and sneering may believe it, but Captain 
 Julius Wagner ? Never I" 
 
 The worthy uttered these indignant words with such so- 
 lemnity and emphasis that Mrs. Butfcerton experienced a 
 sentiment of admiration for the speaker and his lofty views, 
 amounting almost to enthusiasm. 
 
 "What he said of women was quite worthy of his generous 
 and liberal heart, she replied, and did him honor. It was 
 rare to find a gentleman so magnanimous toward the fair 
 sex, and she would not have him think that she intended to 
 speek harshly of her friend Emmelina. She had alluded to 
 those little foibles in her character, without the least inten- 
 tion or deaire of doing her injustice — and perhaps she was 
 
188 
 
 FAIRFAX ; OK, 
 
 mistaken in her. It was more than human nature could 
 accomplish, to bacome free from every failing — and Em- 
 melina was, perhaps, no worse than many others. 
 
 "Again I thank you, my dear madam," said the Cap- 
 tain ; " you are a friend indeed ! But let me ask if there u 
 not a chance of all these little foibles disappearing aftei 
 matrimony — I mean in case I were to become the happy- 
 hum! — possessor of the beauteous Emm elina? I have fre- 
 quently observed this singular change. There was my friend, 
 Dick Thonderguste — he married a perfect vixen, and I assure 
 you, on the word of Wagner, that in six months you wouldn't 
 have known her — she was so meek and mild! There, again, 
 was my old playmate, Charley Ryan, who always smiled 
 when people got angry. He married his cousin, a quiet, 
 sunny little thing, who seemed as good-natured and 
 soft as a May morning. And what was the consequence? 
 In a year, madam, Mrs. Ryan was a tartar— yes, a ter- 
 ror to her household, including Charley! I never dared 
 to go and see him — she looked so black at me. I would 
 sometimes call on Charley when I knew she was out ; but 
 when her footstep was heard on the porch, I would take my 
 hat unconsciously, wring Charley's hand with deop commis- 
 eration, and get off, if possible, without meeting the lady. 
 You see I was afraid of her — of that timid little thing! — I, 
 Captain Longknife ! — and all this has induced me to suppose 
 that marriage frequently changes the fair sex. Don't you 
 think so, my dear madam? — and might it not change Em- 
 melina — Emin elina !" 
 
 And the ^ orthy again gazed at the ceiling. 
 
 "It may/' said Mrs. Butterton, curtly but sadly too. 
 
 "If I return to my home yonder," however added the Cap* , 
 tain," I shall take with me the satisfaction of reflecting, mad- 
 am, that I have been of some service to you. It rejoices me 
 io reflect that this day the town of Winchester has been se- 
 lected as the county seat, I rejoice upon your account wholly 
 madam ; for confidentially speaking, I regard the village of 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 186 
 
 Winchester as the poorest place on the habitable globe. It 
 is a failure — it always will be ! — there are no men of public 
 spirit there — no natural advantages — and mark me ! there is 
 no future for Winchester ! Stephensburg, on the contrary, is 
 the pearl of, towns, the diamond of villages. It bids fair to 
 become a gigantic city. Fairfax is a man of intelligence, 
 and he understood this, and preferred Stephensburg. But 
 for you I should have gone for it — when, of course, madam, 
 it would have been chosen. But I could not desert a friend, 
 one for whom I had so great a — hum — regard ; so real a — 
 hum — attachment! I declared war against Fairfax on my 
 own private account — I went about to see the justices — I 
 made a little speech — it was nothing," said the Captain, 
 modestly, " a mere series of remarks — and I beat his lord- 
 ship, ha! ha! I say, my dear madam, that if I go, I shall 
 take away with me this pleasing reflection — if I go." 
 
 "Why do you go?" said Mrs. Butterton, fixing upon 
 Captain Wagner her most significant glance. 
 
 The Captain sighed, and looked deeply depressed. 
 
 " Because— I have not told you — " he said in almost a 
 whisper, "because there is another reason, stronger than 
 any I have given." 
 
 "Another reason?" 
 
 The Captain accidentally secured one of the lady's hands, 
 which hung at her side. 
 
 "Because I have been defeated once, madam, and am 
 afraid to remain near the enemy — like a coward! afraid! 
 Because I am subjected to the pain of seeing what I wish to 
 possess, ever before me, yet beyond my reach ! Because I 
 am humiliated, mortified, lowered in my own opinion, by 
 finding myself distanced by a professor of the frivolous art 
 of dancing and music playing" — here the Captain darted 
 a terrific scowl, full of gloomy rage, at the unconscious 
 Monsieur Jambot — " and because it does not become a sol- 
 dier to get on his knees and beg, or crouch like a hound to 
 be cut! These, madam," said Captain Wagner, with an air 
 
190 
 
 FAIRFAX; OK, 
 
 of touching sorrow, (< are the reasons which inrel me to leave 
 this neighborhood — which drive me away from your side ! 
 If I thought this fair hand, which I hold, cared to rest in 
 my clasp — if I thought it would not drop mine like a hot-- 
 hum— indifferently: — if I thought it would retain me, when 
 I was going away forever — then I would stay, for it is my 
 most coveted treasure. But this is folly — farewell! fare- 
 well !" 
 
 Having uttered these whispered words in a tone of digni- 
 fied misery and unfaltering resolve, the Captain made a mo- 
 tion to withdraw his hand and go. But strange 1 — unex- 
 pected ! — astounding event! — event wholly unanticipated or 
 thought of by the Captain ! — the hand which he would have 
 released would not suffer that ceremony to be performed. 
 With a gentle pressure it retained the soldier's, and the 
 owner of the hand turned away her blushing countenance, 
 but not before she had bestowed upon her companion a 
 glance which said plainly as glance could say: "If anoth- 
 er defeat is all that you fear, you need fear no longer — for 
 the enemy whom you are afraid of is ready to capitulate — 
 the hand which you think cold, is ready to rest here, in 
 your own for life !" 
 
 The fair Mrs. Butterton may not have made use of this 
 elegant and graceful speech, which we have skillfully attri- 
 buted, therefore, to the " glance of her eye," but before the 
 interview terminated, the overjoyed Captain received from 
 the lady's lips the assurance that she was willing to becomo 
 Mrs. Captain Wagner. 
 
 The rest of the company could not tell what made the 
 Captain's countenance shine so resplendently as he finished 
 his punch at a single gulp, or why Mrs. Butterton was so 
 gay and so sorrowful by turns. 
 
 We know the meaning of the first of these emotions; the 
 second is as simply explained. The dame was looking- with 
 pity at her disappointed suitor. Monsieur Jambot 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COUttfc 191 
 
 XXXVIL 
 
 THE EARL AND FALCONBRIDGE. 
 
 N the large apartment at Greenway Court, whose 
 picturesque decorations — stags' horns, guns, old 
 swords, and long tapering rods — were lit up by 
 the cheerful fire-light, and the more steady radi- 
 ance of two candles in the tall, silver candlesticks, the Earl 
 and Falconbridge talked long, and on many subjects. 
 
 The young man speedily found that nothing need now 
 detain him in the region. There was no longer any occasion, 
 to proceed to the far South Branch of the Potomac, whither 
 he had promised himself a trip with George, who had com- 
 pletely won his heart. The lands which he came to look 
 after, were all laid down upon the rudely-traced maps which 
 Lord Fairfax spread before him : his title was secured be- 
 yond all question; and the slight quit-rent only, a mere 
 nothing, guaranteed the right of property conclusively. 
 
 It was then that, passing away from business, the host 
 and his guest conversed on other things for hours---those 
 long hours of the autumn night, which glide by rapidly like 
 joyful dreams, for the happy and light-hearted, but which 
 lag so drearily for those whose spirits are oppressed. 
 
 Falconbridge listened with a strange interest to the mel- 
 ancholy tones of this singular man. Everything about the 
 Earl excited his imagination, Here, beyond the Blue Bidge 
 Mountains, in the Virginia wilderness, he conversed with 
 one who had once shone among the most splendid noble- 
 men of the English Court; who had lived in the brilliant 
 circle of which Bolingbroke, and Somerset, and Shaftes- 
 bury, and Joseph Addison were the ornaments; who had 
 written for the " Spectator " — and been equally distinguished 
 
192 
 
 FAIRFAX ; OR, 
 
 in fashion and in letters: this exile was his hcsfc, in the 
 lonely mansion, and in his melancholy monologue, there 
 was an irresistible attraction, a strange spell which the 
 young man could not throw off. He leaned forward in his 
 chair, and gathered every word which fell from the grim 
 lips ; every word was a new thought, a new emotion. 
 
 The gallant face of Falconbridge had in its turn strongly 
 impressed the Earl, though he exhibited little evidence of 
 the fact. "We have said that his long commerce with the 
 great world had made him wonderfully penetrating in his 
 views and judgment of character. He thus comprehended 
 quickly the man with whom he was conversing. In Fal- 
 conbridge he recognized an organization of singular nobility 
 and sincerity. The spirit breathed by the Almighty into 
 this clay, was plainly of extraordinary delicacy. He under- 
 stood the silent indications of eye, and lip, and smile, and 
 gesture; he saw in the nature of this youth, the scom of 
 falsehood; the love of truth; the pride of which made him 
 bow only before honesty and what was noble and sincere; 
 all the traits which go to form that lofty character, the true 
 gentleman. 
 
 The Earl saw all this at a single glance, and watched with 
 a grim and wistful interest, the emotions chasing each 
 other rapidly across the eloquent face. He saw that he was 
 appreciated; and this is always an agreeable conviction with 
 men of proud, strong natures, and original minds. The 
 colloquy thus came at last to embrace a great variety of 
 subjects; the different worlds in which the two men had 
 been dwellers; England over the sea, and Virginia here, 
 with all that made them what they were; the aims of roble 
 manhood, the philosoply of life; the past, the future, and 
 what lay beyond the future of this world, in the undi*cov- 
 ered realm of silence. These mortals who represented from 
 a different point of view a single class — the class whc rake 
 the pole-star Honor for their guide, and sail toward the 
 course it points, through gloom and tempest, whethei ohat 
 
THE MASTEB OF GItEENWAY COURT 
 
 193 
 
 Bail be in a crazy skiff or a mighty ship — these men, both 
 eminent for lofty traits, for cultivated intellects, and noble 
 instincts, recognized in' each other something strangely sim- 
 ilar, and gave their confidence unasked. 
 
 Falconbridge spoke without reserve of his life, his sur- 
 roundings in the Lowland, his amusements — of everything : 
 aud the Earl gave a picture in his turn of life in England, 
 without, however, touching upon his private history. It 
 was only in certain moods, and in presence of such old 
 acquaintances as Captain Wagner, that the stern and mel- 
 ancholy nobleman threw off his mask of cold reserve. His 
 manner to Falconbridge was perfectly polite, but perfectly 
 ceremonious too; the young man was plainly nothing more 
 to him than a very agreeable stranger. 
 
 " Virginia, Mr. Falconbridge," he said, " is England sim- 
 ply under a different form. It is true that our white re- 
 tainers, essentially parts of the soil, are replaced by negroes 
 who are legally serfs for life; but I question which is the 
 happier of these classes." 
 
 " I know our servants are happy," replied Falconbridge, 
 "and we love them as they love us. I have an old nurse 
 who is quite as dear to me, as many of my relations. She 
 nursed me in my childhood; has loved me in my manhood; 
 and I am less her master than she is my mistress ! for she 
 scolds, and reprimands, and makes me do just what she 
 pleases. I would rage at one half she says from any man 
 in the world, however much above me, but I can't rage at 
 her. I love her because I know she loves me, and I think I 
 would defend her at the peril of my life." 
 
 " I really think you would," returned Lord Fairfax, look- 
 ing at the speaker with grim interest; "you have a cordial 
 nature, Mr. Falconbridge." 
 
 " I don't regard my feeling as at all meritorious, my lord. 
 I should be more than a heathen were I not to love the old 
 nurse who has loved me so faithfully. I would see to her 
 comfort before that of the greatest lady in the province, and 
 
 9 
 
194 
 
 FAIRFAX ; OR, 
 
 would rather she would smile on me than have his Excel* 
 lency, the governor, take off his hat to me. That would 
 seem very simple to you if you knew how she has loved and 
 cherished me." 
 
 "I can understand," said the Earl, with the same melan- 
 choly smile. " You are a perfect democrat, and would 
 rather talk with some old t Colonel ' on Tide-water, than 
 with the greatest Duke of England." 
 
 "You are laughing at me, my lord," said Falconbridge. 
 " What would a Duke take the trouble to talk with me 
 for?" 
 
 " There might be no inequality," returned the Earl. " I 
 mean, Mr. Falconbridge. that in England, there is a. very 
 absurd mode of viewing the people of the American pro- 
 vinces. They are regarded as persons of an inferior 
 race, which is simply nonsense. A very great number of 
 persons in the Colonies here, are either descended from our 
 aobility — the sons and grandsons, it maybe, of "younger 
 sons," but of course no less inheriting the family blood — or 
 they are the offshoots of that "untitled nobility," as they 
 have been called, the country gentlemen of England. This 
 class, sir, is after all the real strength of the British Empire: 
 our peerage is the flower, simply, of the vigorous plant. 
 What matter if a coronet, or noble order, does not decorate 
 these men ? They are the life-blood of the Anglo-Saxon 
 body; the foremost men of all this world, as Shakspeare 
 writes it; and the time may come when our exhausted stem 
 will look with pride upon its nourishing offshoots, growing 
 in the soil of the west. Thus, sir," added the Earl, gravely, 
 "I may now have the honor of conversing with a young 
 nobleman above my own poor rank; one who is such by 
 right of blood, if not by title." 
 
 Falconbridge laughed as he listened to this grave state- 
 ment. 
 
 " I am afraid you flatter me, my lord," he replied, " we 
 are only gentlemen." 
 
, THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. l95 
 
 * Gentlemen !" returned the Earl, " only gentlemen ? Mv 
 dear Mr. Ealconbridge, you will find, as you go on in life, 
 that this is an unphilosophical phrase. It is no slight task 
 to be "only'" this. It is better to be a gentleman than a 
 lord —and the greatest lord can be no more. I pray that 
 the historian of my life, if I shall have one, may give me 
 that noble title only. 'Tis my sole ambition, sir, I crave no 
 more. My career has been troubled and unhappy; my for- 
 tune adverse. I am growing old in a foreign land — alone 
 in this wilderness after living at the finest Courts in Europe 
 — but this does not afflict me very greatly, 'tis a matter of 
 small importance. If my 'scutcheon is untarnished, my 
 name free from all stain, I shall think myself fortunate and 
 happy." 
 
 There was something so noble and moving in the melan- 
 choly earnestness of the speaker, that Falconbridge uncon- 
 sciously stretched out his hand. The Earl pressed it grave- 
 ly, and said : 
 
 "I take your hand as 'tis offered, sir — as the hand of an 
 honest gentleman — and now, sir, I will no longer detain 
 you with my talk. You are young and must require rest, 
 and I too am weary after this annoying day, in which I have 
 filled a position which is far from agreeable to me." 
 
 With these words the Earl rang his little bell, whioh was 
 promptly answered by the appearance of the old body-ser- 
 vant, and with grave inclinations the two men separated. 
 
 The Earl sat down in his carved chair, as the door closed, 
 and leaning his pale face upon his hand, mused long and 
 moodily. At last he rose with a deep sigh, and muttered : 
 
 "The eyes and lips of this youth ha7e a singular effect 
 upon me; they are wonderfully similar — wonderfully. Well, 
 well, I have arranged an idle trap for him yonder. He 
 must see it, and I will question him. Eollyl folly I but 
 what is life, but a tissue of folly ?" 
 
 And Lord Fairfax slowly left the apartment 
 
196 FAIRFAX ; OB, 
 
 xxxvm. 
 
 TEE PORTRAIT. 
 
 AIjCONBEIDGE found a cheerful fire burning is 
 the wide fire-place of his sleeping apartment, foi 
 the November nights were growing cold, and 
 rendered it necessary. 
 Old John saw that all was disposed agreeably for his 
 master's guest, and then respectfully edging toward the 
 door, quietly disappeared. Falconbridge was left alone, 
 seated in front of the fire, into which he gazed long, with 
 thoughtful eyes. His mind had been filled with new emo- 
 tions lately; his life subjected to many novel influences. 
 The beautiful woman, the melancholy nobleman, the jovial 
 Borderer, the wild region, into which he had been so grimly 
 welcomed by the Indian assault; all these personages and 
 objects had flooded his life with new thoughts and feelings, 
 and were now the subject of his vague reverie. 
 
 From time to time a smile would flit over the handsome 
 features of the young man; and then a frown and an expres- 
 sion of pity would succeed. Miss Argal was the origin ol 
 the happy smile, the strange letter of the mad lover who had 
 killed himself, caused the frown, and the commiserating 
 shadow. 
 
 Falconbridge mused thus for more than an hour, taking 
 no notice of the pattering drops which fell down from the 
 wax candle on the silver candlestick, without observing that 
 the fire was dying out, and that the dimly-lit apartment be- 
 gan to grow chill, as well as to assume a weird, ghost-like 
 appearance in the flickering light of the single candle. Aa 
 ^e light wavered to and fro, immense shadows chased each 
 
THE MASTER OF GREEWAY COURT. 
 
 197 
 
 other across the walls and the ceiling; a melancholy " death- 
 watch " tapped in the wainscoting; and a bough of one ol 
 the trees creaked nervously against the pane of the window. 
 A fanciful imagination might have seen shadowy faces, peer- 
 ing in through the dim panes, or fancied that goblin fingera 
 were tugging at the grating bells in the old belfries. 
 
 Falconbridge heard all these weird, low sounds, but did 
 not heed them ; he pursued his reverie. But finally hie 
 meditations came to an end; he banished them from his 
 mind, and drawing a long breath, rose erect, and looked 
 around him. As his eyes fell upon a picture hanging above 
 the mantelpiece, he almost recoiled. 
 
 It represented a gentleman of about twenty-five, clad in 
 an elegant costume, covered with embroidery. The white 
 hand, half covered with lace, was thrust into the scarlet 
 waistcoat, and the figure was erect and proud. The strange 
 circumstance, however, which impressed the young man so 
 strongly, was the startling resemblance which the portrait — 
 for such it plainly was — bore to himself. It was not so 
 much a resemblance, as a perfect copy of his own features. 
 No trait was different, no detail wanting. The clear eyes, 
 large, frank, filled with smiling pride; the clearly defined 
 lips, expressing equal resolution ani good humor; the 
 raised head, the smooth forehead, the brown curling hair, 
 all was identical with the traits of the real man. Had the 
 picture descended from the canvas into the apartment, and 
 any one been asked which was Falconbridge, which the 
 other, he would have found it impossible to decide. 
 
 The young man's astonishment was so great that he re- 
 mained for a hmg time gazing with deep wonder, and in 
 silence upon the picture. Then taking the candle from the 
 table he held it above his head, so that the light fell in a 
 clear stream upon the portrait, and muttered : 
 
 " "Why, that's no picture I s Tis my other self!" 
 
 He sat down again, but could not remove his eyes from 
 the strange portrait. Could it possibly have hung there, 
 
198 
 
 FAIRFAX ; OR, 
 
 , hen he occupied the room before, without attracting hit 
 Attention? He could not believe it. Why, then, had it 
 been hung up since ? Had Lord Fairfax placed it there ? 
 Was it intended to attract his notice ? Whose could it be ? 
 rvhat original sat for it ? It was plainly no recent picture 
 whence did it come, and why was it here in his chamber, 
 tfitb its eyes fixed on him with that motionless stare ? 
 
 The young man's mind was filled with conflicting thoughts* 
 tie could arrive at no conclusion; the strange picture was 
 as absolute a mystery to him at the end of an hour, as when 
 his eyes first fell upon it. 
 
 It was not until the old clock on the stairway struck 
 twelve, slowly and solemnly, that Falconbridge, finding the 
 apartment grow cold, retired to sleep. The strange copy 
 of himself followed him in his dreams; the eyes shone on 
 him in slumber, as when awake. 
 
 He slept uneasily, and started more than once; but finally 
 toward daybreak fell into a sweet and soothing slumber, 
 which was undisturbed by the haunting eyes. From his 
 murmured words and smiles, it was plain that the young man 
 was dreaming of his home in the Lowlands. His strange past, 
 the stranger picture, the life around him, had all disappeared: 
 he was far away from the valley and the mountains, in his 
 own land again. 
 
 When he woke, and saw the bright sun streaming in, he 
 smiled ana welcomed it. Then a sudden movement proved 
 that he recalled the night before. He turned his head 
 tjmckly. 
 
 There was the picture. 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 199 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 THE OLYMPIAN U>E OF CAPTAIN LONGKNTFE. 
 
 APTAIN WAGNER had just mounted Injun- 
 hater, and happy, triumphant, his chin in the 
 air, was about to set out from the Ordinary for 
 Greenway Court, when all at once, Falconbridge 
 emerged from the forest, and galloped toward him. 
 
 He rode one of Fairfax's horses, whose speed he had 
 well tested, according to the recommendation of the Earl, 
 and in the bright morning sun presented a very attractive 
 appearance. 
 
 "Whither bound, comrade?" said the Captain, reining 
 in the active Injun hater, "you come on like a thunder- 
 bolt !" 
 
 "I am a very harmless one, Captain/ 1 returned Falcon- 
 bridge, " and the Ordinary is my mark." 
 " You are from Greenway ?" 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Any news T* 
 
 " None at all; his lordship, whom I left a short time ago, 
 is quite well." 
 
 " Ho always is that, or the devil take it ! He rides over 
 the mountains enough to make anybody well and strong. 
 You had a pleasant time ?" 
 
 " Very pleasant." 
 
 " And a sound night's rest, doubtless 
 "Well, yes — I slept well enough; but a strange thing 
 happened." 
 
 " Strange ? What was that ? Did you have any mor* 
 visions ?" 
 
200 
 
 FAIRFAX ; OB, 
 
 No, Captain, but I saw myself.' 
 
 "Saw yourself? Oh, you mean you were guilty of th« 
 vanity of looking into a mirror, of which there are not so 
 many in this region. Well, companion, when one's as good 
 looking a fellow as you are, that's not unnatural, or may 
 the devil take it !" 
 
 " I did not say that I saw myself in a mirror — I was on 
 canvas." 
 
 " On canvas !" 
 
 " Yes, my actual self, Captain !" 
 
 And Falconbridge described the portrait, the manner in 
 which he had seen it, and the effect which it had produced 
 upon him. 
 
 " Strange enough," said the soldier ; " and did you 
 mention it to his lordship ?" 
 
 " He alluded to it himself at breakfast, and asked me if I 
 had slept well with this second nocturnal visitor — you re- 
 member the firfct ?" 
 
 "Yes, companion, and what was the explanation ?" 
 
 " A very simple one. His lordship had placed the pic- 
 ture there as an agreeable surprise to me. It was the por- 
 trait of a friend of his who bad been long dead — and my re- 
 semblance, he said, to this friend, had impressed him, upon 
 our very first meeting." 
 
 " "Well," said the soldier, " all that's very interesting and 
 striking. I never saw the picture, but mean, as soon as I 
 arrive, to go up stairs and look at it. Did you arrange your 
 business ?" 
 
 "In half an hour. I need not have come from the Low 
 country hither." 
 " And you return ?" 
 
 "Well, yes, I imagine so, Captain," said Falconbridge 
 with some hesitation, " before very long." 
 
 " I'm glad to hear it," was Captain Wagner's apparently 
 unfriendly reply. "I think of going down to see Gooch 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 20 i 
 
 who, Fm told, sails for England in the spring, and we might 
 jog along together." 
 
 " Then you have business with Governor Gooch ?" 
 
 " Yes — about my lands." 
 
 And Captain Wagner gave a twist to his moustache, which 
 made that decoration stand out prominently from his mar- 
 tial countenance. 
 
 " I own, or shall very soon own, my dear comrade, some 
 of the prettiest pieces of ground in the Virginia valley. I 
 will be mysterious, I will shirk the subject for the present, 
 but I have said what I have said," added the soldier in a 
 determined voice, as though some opponent disputed his 
 statement. " My property lies in and around the town of 
 Winchester — a noble place, Falconbridge, the pearl of the 
 entire universe. It is my intention to make Gooch build a 
 fort there, appoint me commandant, and commission me 
 generalissimo of the frontier." 
 
 "Oh! really? But he could do worse." 
 
 " Thank you, comrade — and to be frank, I agree with you. 
 Once commandant of an armed post, let me hear of the ras- 
 cally Injuns daring to set foot on my ground ! Let me 
 hear that any of the copper-nosed scoundrels think of com- 
 ing to the place or the neighborhood ! I'll march on 'em, 
 and exterminate 'em off the face of the earth ! I will make 
 the Opequon and Lost Eiver run with their blood ! I will 
 choke those streams with their miserable carcasses, as I'm 
 told Julius Ceesar did at the battle of Marathon in Africa I 
 I'll cut 'em into slices, and fry, and eat 'em ! If I don't I'm 
 a dandy, Falconbridge !" 
 
 With which words, the Captain assumed a terrific frown, 
 made a farewell sign to his companion, and setting spur to 
 Injunhater, went on toward Greenway. 
 
 Falconbridge laughed, and dismounting, gave his horse 
 into the hands of an ostler, directing him to lead the animal 
 back in the afternoon to Greenway. Then he ordered his 
 
 9* 
 
202 
 
 FAIRFAX; OR, 
 
 own horse, Sir John, to be saddled, and was ere long curb- 
 ing that intelligent quadruped, with a joyous hand. 
 
 To his inquiries regarding the wizard, his daughter, and 
 George, Mrs. Butterton replied that all three persons had 
 set out some hours before on their return to the Fort Moun- 
 tain — George riding his sorrel, the old man and his daugh- 
 ter occupying the landlord's sole vehicle. It was very plain, 
 added the dame, that Mr. George was a friend of theirs. 
 
 Replying to this significant observation with a smile only 
 and saluting the lady with a low inclination, Falconbridg* 
 set forward at a round pace, for Mr. Argal's. 
 
 He had not seen Miss Argal for almost a whoU 1 -day. 
 
THE MASTER OF GEEENWAY COURT. 203 
 
 XL. 
 
 THE BEGINNING OF THE END. 
 
 T was only a few days after these scenes, when 
 as Falconbridge arrived one morning in sight oi 
 Mr. Argal's he saw, affixed to the drooping 
 boughs of an elm, in the midst of many hounds, 
 the large chestnut, which was the favorite-riding horse of 
 Lord Fairfax. 
 
 As the young man entered he saw the Earl, who wore Lis 
 hunting costume, seated near Miss Argal, and engaged in 
 earnest conversation with her. Mr. Argal was not visible. 
 
 The young lady did not seem overjoyed at Falconbridge 'a 
 appearance — indeed her greeting was rather cool than warm. 
 It was no more than she could have bestowed upon a com- 
 mon acquaintance — and although the nice sense of delicacy 
 possessed by Falconbridge led him to approve of this re- 
 serve in the abstract, he could not divest himself of the idea 
 that something more than the presence of a third person ac 
 tuated the young lady in her demeanor toward him. 
 
 He had caught, indeed, as he entered, one of those 
 strangely fascinating glances fixed upon Lord Fairfax and 
 the circumstance, trifling as it was, made his heart sink un- 
 consciously. It was folly, he reflected, to expect a young 
 lady, because she had plighted her word to one gentleman, 
 to assume toward all others an air of coldness and indiffer- 
 ence; but none the less did the electric smile which Miss 
 Argal had directed toward the Earl make the pulse of Fal- 
 conbridge throb with disquiet, and his brow contract. 
 
204 
 
 FAIRFAX; )S, 
 
 Lord Fairfax rose courteously and greeted the jvtmg mas 
 v>ith grave politeness. 
 
 " Give you good day, Mr. Falconbridge," he said; "I am 
 glad to meet you again." 
 
 " Many thanks, my lord, — I trust you are well." 
 
 " Perfectly, sir. T am always well when I move about, as 
 ! have been doing now since daybreak." 
 
 " You have been hunting, I imagine, from your dress." 
 
 " Yes, all the morning. I had a chase after a deer, but 
 made nothing of it. It led me some miles to the west, and 
 I stopped here to see Mr. Argal and his family. I believe 
 they are friends of yours, are they not, sir ?" 
 
 " Oh yes — is not that true, Miss Bertha?" said Falcon- 
 bridge, smiling. 
 
 " Certainly, sir, we are friends," was the young lady's re- 
 ply. But the expression of the face seemed to say, " that is 
 all " — in her voice there was something strange and inde- 
 scribable; but its tones were plainly altered. 
 
 The quick ear of Falconbridge, sharpened and rendered 
 nervously acute by the depth of his infatuation, did not fail 
 to mark the change. The furrow in his brow became deep- 
 er, and he fixed upon the young lady one of those clear and 
 searching glances which aim at reading the thoughts of 
 those who are the objects of them. 
 
 The tone in which Miss Argal had spoken was either ac- 
 cidental, or she thought that she had gone too far. The in- 
 different, almost cold expression disappeared from her eyes 
 — the beautiful face broke into smiles, and holding out her 
 hand, she said: 
 
 " Friends should treat each other more kindly than you 
 do us, Mr. Falconbridge — I have not seen you for a very 
 long while!" 
 
 And with this ambiguous speech, which conveyed the idea 
 to Lord Fairfax that the young man had not called for a 
 month — but to him, the meaning that twenty -four hours was a 
 " very long while" for him to be away from her, — the young 
 
THE MASTER r 0F GREENWAY JO CRT. 205 
 
 l&dy bestowed upon Falconbridge a new edition of the 
 glance at the Earl which he had intercepted on his en- 
 trance. 
 
 " At your age, Mr. Falconbridge, said the Earl, with his 
 \\ eary smile, " I would have made many visits to Mr. ArgaTs 
 here, especially if I were detained, as I believe you are, sir, 
 at that dull old Ordinary yonder. Pray leave it, and coma 
 and stay at Green way Court as long as your affairs engagb 
 you in the region. It is really inhospitable in me to permit 
 a gentleman like yourself to thus tarry at a roadside tavern, 
 so near my house." 
 
 Falconbridge inclined his head courteously and replied: 
 
 " Many thanks to your lordship. But I shall soon return 
 now — I have been away too long already from home." 
 
 " Ah, that need not draw you, I fancy," said the Earl, 
 smiling; " when a young seigneur goes on his travels in Eu- 
 rope, we are accustomed to give him the length of his teth- 
 er." 
 
 The young man smiled in return, and shaking his head 
 replied : 
 
 " That may be true of young seigneurs, as you say, my 
 lord, but I am not such a person. My father is in strait- 
 ened circumstances, although we live well — requires my as- 
 sistance, and I must go back soon. 
 
 The Earl gravely inclined his head, and then turning to 
 the young lady, said: 
 
 " Do you expect your father to return this morning, Miss 
 Argal ? I now remember that he desires to consult me up- 
 on some land business, and my visit may save him trouble." 
 
 " Yes, he will soon return, my lord," was the reply; "I 
 am sure he will not stay long." 
 
 " I will wait then, madam." 
 
 And the Earl resumed the chair from which he had hall 
 risen. He did not look at Falconbridge. The expression 
 of the young man's countenance would have surprised him. 
 He was gazing at Miss Argal with unaffected astonishmenJ 
 
206 
 
 FAra ?Ax on, 
 
 —and he had abundant reason for doing so. Mr. Argal had 
 announced in his presence, on the evening before, that busi- 
 ness of importance made it necessary for him to go into 
 Maryland, and had begged the young man to be as much 
 with his daughter as he found it convenient — it would re> 
 lieve his mind. He had gone on the journey, which would 
 occupy two or three days, at least — and now Falconbridge 
 heard the assurance given to Lord Fairfax by his hostess, 
 that her father would "soon return," that he "would not 
 stay long " — as though he had ridden out for an hour simply. 
 
 "We shall do Miss Argal the justice to say, that no sooner 
 had she uttered the words, than she blushed and seemed to 
 regret them. She darted a rapid glance at Falconbridge, 
 played with the ribbon at her belt, turned carelessly a hand- 
 some bracelet on her snowy arm — and ended by winding 
 around her finger with graceful indifference one of the pro- 
 fuse curls of her raven hair. 
 
 She hesitated for a moment ; looked out of the window, 
 and said: 
 
 " Perhaps I have unintentionally misled you, my lord. I 
 now remember that my father has ridden to some distance, 
 and may not return so soon. If your lordship, however, 
 will remain until the evening, I shall esteem it a favor. The 
 neighborhood is very lonely." 
 
 " I regret that 'tis impossible, Miss Argal. I promised to - 
 leave a deed which I have in my pocket, for a new settler in 
 the region, who will call for it. If my body-servant were 
 with me, as is sometimes the case when I hunt, I might 
 comply with your most obliging request." 
 
 The young lady turned the bracelet round again on the 
 white arm, beat the floor with her foot, and then said: 
 
 " Our servants are all away; but Mr. Falconbridge might 
 take it for you, my lord. He might then return " 
 
 The mark was overshot. Lord Fairfax greeted the pro- 
 position with an unmistakable stare of astonishment. As to 
 Falconbridge, his face turned orimson, and from his eyes 
 
THE MASTER OF GKEENWAY CO0BT. 
 
 20: 
 
 darted one of those flashes which at times indicated how 
 dangerous he was when aroused. 
 
 " That is — I mean " — said Miss Argal, with some agitation, 
 " I meant that your lordship might be worn out with fa- 
 tigue — you might be greatly in need of rest — and as all our 
 servants are in the woods, I thought I might treat Mr. Fal- 
 conbridge, as a friend, — without ceremony. If I have of- 
 fended you, pray pardon me," added the young lady, fixing 
 upon the young man her saddest and most beseeching 
 glance. " I am very young and inexperienced — I did not 
 think — if I have shocked you " 
 
 And turning away her head, Miss Argal seemed overcome 
 with emotion. 
 
 The young man no longer betrayed any anger. There was 
 nothing but sadness now in his eyes. He did not reply 
 for an instant; when he did speak, it was only to say: 
 
 " I freely pardon any apparent slight, Miss Argal — I am 
 sure you did not mean any — as I am sure that his lordship 
 feels that I would willingly spare him fatigue were he greatly 
 exhausted." 
 
 "No, no, sir," said the Earl with a low inclination, "by 
 no means. I am quite rested, and feel as fresh as possible." 
 
 " But you think my conduct unbecoming, my lord," mur- 
 mured the young lady, "to treat Mr. Falconbridge with 
 such rudeness and want of ceremony — I fear you regard me 
 as thoughtless and ill-bred — I pray Mr. Falconbridge will 
 pardon me !" 
 
 The cloud disappeared from the brow of the Earl. That 
 voice of subtle and wonderful melody dissipated all the dis- 
 pleasure which he had felt. Indeed he seemed fully under 
 the spell of her beauty, and had more than once displayed 
 during the progress of their interview that admiration which 
 he had conceived for her on the first day of their meeting, — 
 and which lingering unknown to him, in the depths of hia 
 nature, had come at last to be something more than a vague 
 eentiment of pleasure in her society. 
 
FAIRFAX ; Oil; 
 
 As she spoke now, or rather murmured in her low sweei 
 voice those words, " I pray Mr. Falconbridge will pardon 
 me !" all traces of displeasure disappeared, as we have said, 
 from his countenance, and the cold swarthy face almost 
 glowed: — that dark eye shone strangely. 
 
 '•'My dear Miss Argal," he said with something approach- 
 i tig feeling, " I pray you do not think so very seriously of a 
 trifle — I am sure Mr. Falconbridge so regards it. 'Twaa 
 nothing, — mere thoughtlessness I am sure. And now I am 
 constrained to leave you. Pray present my regards to your 
 father on his return, and be,g him to cafl. on me at my house. 
 I need not say that I shall feel honored should you choose 
 to accompany him — at any time." 
 
 "With these words, Lord Fairfax bowed low, and left the 
 apartment. Falconbridge followed him to the door, declar- 
 ing his intention to remain. No sooner had the two men 
 disappeared than the sad and submissive expression vanish- 
 ed from Miss Argal's face, her head rose erect, her brows 
 contracted furiously, and she imprisoned her red underlip 
 between the white teeth, — so unmistakable was the fire of 
 anger in her eyes. 
 
 When Falconbridge returned, in five minutes after bid ding 
 the Earl farewell, he found the young lady in the position in 
 which he had left her — leaning sadly on the arm of her chair, 
 and presenting the image of a statue of sad sweetness and 
 regret* 
 
 He had never loved her more than at that moment. 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COUBT. 309 
 
 XLL 
 
 PROGRESS. 
 
 WO days after Mr. Argal's return, he set out tor 
 
 Greenway Court, accompanied by his daughter, 
 who had delivered the Earl's message, and ex- 
 pressed a desire to " breathe a little fresh air." 
 Her father had readily acquiesced in this proposal, and 
 mounting their horses — Mr. Argal his stout cab, and his 
 daughter her slender-legged filly — they were soon upon the 
 road. There were two routes to Greenway Court. One led 
 by the Ordinary; another branching to the right, and fol- 
 lowing a mere bridle path, wound over the prairie, and ap- 
 proached the house on a different side. 
 
 In compliance with the request of the young lady, who said 
 she was heartily tired of the common road, they pursued 
 this latter, and very soon arrived at the Earl's. 
 
 He met them at the door, and exhibited a satisfaction 
 upon seeing Miss Argal, very unusual with one who seemed 
 hard to arouse or interest. He assisted the young lady 
 from her animal, gave her his arm, and led her into the 
 mansion with grave courtesy. Mr. Argal followed, and 
 they were, all three, seated ere long before the crackling 
 fire of light sticks, which was far from unpleasant. 
 
 Whilst her father and the Earl were engaged in discuss- 
 ing the business matters which were the occasion of the 
 visit, Miss Argal amused herself looking over the book- 
 shelves; and finally bore away a volume of the " Spectator,'' 
 in which she very soon seemed to become absorbed. She 
 presented a fascinating picture as she sat by the window, 
 poring over the book. One of her plump, white arms, from 
 
210 
 
 FAIRFAX', OR, 
 
 which the wide sleeve had fallen back, sustained her bent 
 head, the elbow resting on the window-sill, the rounded 
 wrist, adorned with its fine bracelet, half buried in the pro- 
 fuse curls of her ebon hair. Her full, but graceful figure, 
 was inclined forward, and her black eyes were nearly con- 
 cealed by the long, dark lashes, almost resting on the rosy 
 cheek. 
 
 She was still poring over the volume, when a grave and 
 courteous voice said behind her : 
 
 " Pray what have you there, Miss Argal — a romance from 
 my collection ?" 
 
 " Oh no, my lord, I never could read romances," was the 
 smiling reply; "it is a volume of Mr. Addison's 'Specta- 
 tor,' which I admire very much." 
 
 " And I also, madam," replied the EarL "He is a writer 
 of rare wit and humor." 
 
 " Oh, he certainly is !" 
 
 " Pray what paper did you open at — his attack on the 
 ladies, and their fashions? It created a great talk, I re- 
 member, at the time." 
 
 " So I suppose, my lord; but I was not reading that. I 
 was interested very much in this paper." 
 
 And she held up the book with her fascinating smile. 
 The Earl looked at it. The paper was one which he had 
 contributed to the " Spectator " in his youth. 
 
 "I have heard that Mr. Addison and Mr. Steele wrote 
 together," said Miss Argal; "can your lordship tell mo 
 which of them wrote this ? It is so elegantly composed — so 
 delightful !" 
 
 The Earl smiled. He had prided himself much on hia 
 literary reputation, and the old leaven of a former vanity 
 had not spent its strength. 
 
 "I am almost ashamed to reply after such high com- 
 mendation, madam," he said; " but truth renders it neces- 
 sary for me to say that I am myself the author of that 
 number." 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY JOURL 211 
 
 ** Yoa, my lord ! Have you ever written for the prin* 
 tors ?" 
 
 The Earl smiled again: there was something singularly 
 delightful to him in the young lady's admiration and sur- 
 prise. 
 
 " I am obliged to say yes," he answered. " I knew Mr. 
 Addison, and esteemed him highly ; and rather received, 
 than conferred a favor by having a place in the " Spectator." 
 Indeed, the man himself was of such conspicuous gifts, that 
 the greatest noblemen, much more my poor self, were hon- 
 ored by his friendship and conversation. He lived but 
 simply when I knew him first, and dressed very meanly: 
 but you forgot what he wore, and the poor apartment he 
 occupied, when his calm, clear voice began. He would 
 smoke his pipe and converse for hours, and I still recall his 
 smile, with its extraordinary sweetness and serenity, as 
 though his thoughts were fixed upon some delightful recol- 
 lection, or unseen spirits were whispering to him. All who 
 knew him admired and loved him; I was honored by his 
 friendship. He was a very great man; I am not — that ex- 
 plains all, madam." 
 
 "And you wrote this beautiful paper ?" said Miss Argal, 
 with a contemplative air, " this paper I was reading with 
 so much interest ?" 
 
 X believe so. And I think you will find my name affixed 
 at the end." 
 
 The young lady turned the leaf, and said, innocently : 
 
 "Why here it is, sure enough I 'Thomas, Lord Fairfax. 
 I ought to have looked." 
 
 Had she looked ? Yes. The connection of the Earl with 
 the " Spectator " had been known to her, and she had sought 
 for and found, and commenced reading the number marked 
 with his name. 
 
 After some more conversation on literature, the book wag 
 replaced on the shelf, and at the same moment a savory 
 
212 
 
 FAIRFAX OK, 
 
 odor invaded the apartment. The dinner hour Had arrived, 
 and with a little urging Mr. Argal remained. 
 
 Dinner was served after the English fashion, in courses, 
 and the three persons remained at table until the sun began 
 to stream through the western window. Miss Argal had 
 summoned all her wonderful powers to attract the admiring 
 attention of the Earl, and she had succeeded. She had 
 commenced by nattering his vanity; she ended by impress- 
 ing upon him the fact that she regarded him with a mixture 
 of respect and affection, which she struggled against, but 
 could not overcome. The conversation had turned upon 
 marriage and the philosophy of that relation; and the young 
 lady, in the most casual and unintentional way, had declared 
 that for her part, she never could understand the taste of wo- 
 men for " mere boys." Young men were no favorites of hers. 
 They were so terribly vain, and prided themselves so much 
 upon their youth and beauty; they seemed to bestow their 
 affection as a sort of favor on the ladies, and, indeed, she 
 never could bear them, the vain creatures! If she ever 
 thought of marrying, she would select some one else. It 
 should be a serious person; no matter if he had reached or 
 even passed middle age. She would be sure at least of hia 
 love, and could rely upon his judgment and his protection. 
 She would rather a thousand times trust her happiness to 
 such a one, than to a giddy-pated youth, however handsome 
 he might be. 
 
 All this was uttered by Miss Argal in the most innocent 
 and careless way: the mere outpouring, it appeared, of her 
 confiding disposition. And it thrilled the cold heart of the 
 weary exile with a new and delightful emotion. His vanity 
 was soothed and flattered — his admiration was excited by 
 the lovely speaker — his ears drank in the music of her voice, 
 and his eyes dwelt with unaccustomed intensity upon hei 
 countenance, so instinct with beauty and fascination. 
 
 When, very soon after dinner, Mr. Argal declared the 
 necessity of his departure, the Earl pressed him warmly to 
 
THE MASTER OF GREEN WAY COJRT. 218 
 
 remain. The young lady, as before, discovered that she 
 ] was laboring under a cough, but this only hurried her de- 
 
 parture. Mr, Argal thanked his lordship, but said that it 
 was absolutely necessary for him to return that evening. 
 And so the horses were brought up, and the Earl assisted 
 {he young lady to her seat in the saddle. 
 
 Did her ungloved hand retain his own, as it had retained 
 Falconbridge's on that evening of their first meeting ? Was 
 the slight but clearly perceptible pressure intentional ? 
 
 The Earl stood on the porch and watched them until they 
 were out of sight; the languishing smile of Miss Argal as 
 she departed, still before him. As he turned finally, and 
 re-entered the house, he muttered : 
 
 " I have never seen a beauty as superb, or a more brilliant 
 mind! Let me beware! Love a woman again? It would 
 be monstrous I" 
 
 But all the evening he was thinking of her. 
 
214 
 
 FAIRFAX; 0&. 
 
 XLTL 
 
 IN THE MOUNTAIN. 
 
 fALF an hour after the departure of Mr. Argal 
 and his daughter for Greenway Court, Falcon- 
 bridge drew up before the house, and leaping 
 from his horse, entered the mansion, smiling and 
 joyful. 
 
 His love for the young lady had reached that point now, 
 that out of her presence he scarcely lived. His life was. 
 concentrated into those hours of each day when he sat by 
 her, and looked into her eyes. All the rest was a dull, cold 
 blank to him, with no pleasure in it all. He existed, simply, 
 there at the Ordinary, and passed all his moments in mus- 
 ing upon the interview which had passed by, or on the one 
 which was to occur again on the morrow. As he mounted 
 his horse to go away, his form would droop, his eyes be- 
 come gloomy — when he put spur to Sir John, to go and 
 see her, he was the picture of buoyant joy and light-heart- 
 edness. 
 
 These words will explain the emotion of the young man, 
 when one of the servants informed him that Miss Argal had 
 departed, and above all, departed for "Lord Fairfax's." 
 
 As the words were uttered, he felt a dizziness, a sudden 
 sinking of the heart. Lord Fairfax's! She had gone to 
 Green way Court ! All the scene, when that morning she 
 had insulted him so carelessly, rushed back; he remembered 
 the whole interview; he saw her glances, her wiles, her 
 witcheries to attract his lordship. For a moment, then, he 
 stood still and gazed at the servant with an expression 
 wliich almost frightened her. 
 
THE MASTER OF GREEN WAY COURT. 
 
 215 
 
 It was f©r a moment only. His presence of mind re- 
 turned, and simply requesting her to inform Miss Argal of 
 his visit, on her return, he issued forth and mounted his 
 horse again. 
 
 Should he go thither? Yes! He would go and be a 
 witness of what he felt was the scene at Greenway — a wit- 
 ness of her smiles and cajoleries, and fascinations, aimed at 
 the Earl — he would go and sup full upon his jealousy and 
 resentment ! 
 
 And digging the spur into the side of Sir John, he set 
 forward like lightning upon the road to G-reenway. 
 
 A mile from Mr. Argal's he suddenly drew rein, so sud- 
 denly that Sir John reared and almost fell upon his 
 haunches. "Was it advisable to go there ? Would she rel- 
 ish this persistent pursuit of her — this jealous supervision, 
 as though he suspected her fidelity to him ? Was it worth 
 while to go and suffer, and get no thanks, rather coldness 
 for it ? No ! He would return to his lonely chamber and 
 see no one. 
 
 And he turned his horse's head in the direction of the 
 Ordinary, going along now very slowly, his head drooping, 
 his brow overshadowed. 
 
 "No, no," he murmured, "no, I cannot go back there. 
 Mrs. Butterton would annoy me with her wearying conver- 
 sation — I need movement, fresh air." 
 
 With these words he stopped and looked round. The 
 Fort Mountain raised its great ramparts and seemed to 
 beckon him; the prairie, swept by the wind, whispered to 
 him. He had met George in the morning, at the Ordinary, 
 on his way to the " Fort," and now remembering the fact, 
 directed his course straight toward it. 
 
 He at last reached the liver; pushed his horse through 
 the current, and skirting the noisy Passage Creek, ascended 
 the winding bridle-path toward the cottage of the wizard. 
 
 As he went onward many wild sights and sounds greeted 
 him, and dissipated, in a measure, his possessing though** 
 
216 
 
 FAIRFAX; OR, 
 
 A great eagle rose, with slow, flapping wings, from a crag 
 near at hand, and swept away into the opposite mountain: 
 a stag flitted across a distant opening, and disappeared; 
 more than once he heard in the tangled thicket near at 
 band, the stealthy tread of a panther or a bear, crackling 
 over the dry twigs, and rustling the dead leaves of the 
 forest. He went on without heeding these things, however, 
 and soon reached the steep knoll upon which the wizard's 
 co stage was situated. As he arrived at this point, he all at 
 once saw, in the porch of the house, a pleasant little rustia 
 picture. 
 
 On one of the benches a young girl was seated, graceful 
 and smiling; and her smiles seemed to be occasioned by 
 the attempt which a young man, occupying a lower seat at 
 her feet, was making to place a wreath of pale primroses on 
 her forehead. 
 
 Beside them was stretched, indolently sleeping, a huge 
 black bear, to whose presence no attention at all seemed to 
 be paid. 
 
 Cannie and George were so much interested in their oc- 
 cupation that they did not hear the foot-falls of the horse, 
 and it was not until Falconbridge had tied Sir John to a 
 bough, and ascended the declivity on foot, that they became 
 aware of his presence. 
 
 The bear rose with a growl, and exhibited a ferocious 
 • mouth filled with white, sharp teeth, but at a word from 
 the young girl, accompanied by a warning tap on his head 
 from her little hand, lay down quietly again, and dozed 
 serenely. 
 
 The boy and the girl welcomed Falconbridge with the 
 warmest cordiality, and Cannie, with a smile, informed him 
 that he need fear nothing from " Brum," who was a long 
 tried friend and pet, and quite harmless. With' these words 
 she pushed the animal with her small foot, and bade him 
 move. Bruin acquiesced with perfect good humor, and ri»< 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 217 
 
 ing lazily, waddled off to a sunny knoll, and lying down, 
 speedily went to sleep again. 
 
 Cannie, meanwhile, had entered the house, and an- 
 nounced the visit of Falconbridge to her grandfather, w r ho 
 soon came forth and welcomed him They were still ex- 
 changing courteous expressions, and the young man was 
 looking with great interest at Cannie, when another inci- 
 dent occurred. A sudden fluttering in the air attracted 
 their attention — a suppressed croak was heard — and an 
 immense hawk, with an arrow through his wing, fell almost 
 at the young man's feet. v 
 
 "Why, Lightfoot is here !" said Cannie; "he has shot the 
 hawk that was after my pigeons !" 
 
 "Who is Lightfoot?" asked Falconbridge, whose gloom 
 began to yield before the innocent smiles of the girl ; " an- 
 other friend, like the bear?" 
 
 " Oh, no sir ! he is an Indian. He is a true friend, how- 
 ever. He once saved my life, and we love him, even George. 
 There he comes — he has been to see us twice lately — he 
 lives in the mountain." 
 
 As Cannie spoke, the young Indian was seen approaching 
 down the abrupt, almost precipitous path which led up- 
 ward to the summit. From the tall mass of rock above, he 
 had seen and transfixed the hawk, and now came to pick 
 it up. He was welcomed with great affection by Cannie, 
 and when she pointed to Falconbridge, and said : " This is 
 another good friend, Lightfoot," the Indian stretched out 
 his arm, and shook hands, as he had learned to do, with a 
 grave dignity and courtesy which might have graced au 
 emperor 1 n 
 
218 
 
 FAIRFAX ; OB, 
 
 XLTTT. 
 
 «OW AN ANIMAL CHANGED THE DESTINIES OP THREE HUMAN BS 
 
 INGS. 
 
 HE day was spent happily by all. That conn* 
 dence which soon springs up between persons of 
 sincere and truthful natures, made the hours 
 glide away without constraint or ceremony. 
 The Indian and Falconbridge were not regarded in the 
 light of strangers by the old man or his daughter; and as 
 to George, we already know that he was on a footing of the 
 most perfect familiarity and friendship. As they sat on 
 the little porch, and looked forth on the beautiful scene of 
 the forest and mountain, dancing streamlet and moss-clad 
 rocks, a cheerful and inspiring influence seemed to fill every 
 bosom, and Falconbridge was no exception. The shadow? 
 which had lain upon his brow slowly passed away. His equa- 
 nimity returned. From the little mountain cottage, nestling 
 in a gash of the great lofty range, he looked down as it 
 were upon the events of the morning, there in the Lowiand, 
 and regarded them in a different and more hopeful light. 
 
 Had he not suffered himself to be carried away by a mere 
 rush of jealous and irrational suspicion — by a lit of angry 
 disappointment at not meeting the young lady ? What rea- 
 son was there to find fault with her for accompanying her 
 father on a ride across the prairie, when he doubtless had 
 some business matters to transact with Lord Fairfax? 
 Could he blame her — was there any, the least, ground for 
 complaint or dissatisfaction ? Indeed, ought he not to feel 
 some shame at having charged her with unworthy motiyea 
 even in his imagination? 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 219 
 
 When his reflections brought him to this point, the whole 
 matter was ended. A noble nature always suffers deeply 
 from the consciousness that it has committed an injustice ; 
 with such the recoil is always powerful; the longing to 
 make amends is irresistible. Falconbridge determined to be, 
 in future, more kind and unsuspicious than he had ever been 
 before ! — and thus having banished his absorbing thought, 
 he became cheerful and even joyous again. 
 
 Every object around him increased this sentiment. The 
 fresh bracing air caressed his cheeks and forehead, and filled 
 his pulses with buoyant life. He inhaled it with delight, and 
 felt the last traces of his gloomy thought disappear. His com- 
 panions were not unsuited to the scenes, nor to his change ol 
 mood — Cannie looked up into his face with her bright smile, 
 her tender eyes, and air of confiding affection. She had not 
 forgotten how he came to the side of her grandfather on the 
 day of the trial, and greeted him in his sincere voice, full of 
 sympathy and kindness — how he had held his hand cat 
 to herself, and said she was a little countess, and a good 
 daughter. She had recalled his tones and looks and words, 
 on her return, with strange pleasure; and now met him as 
 a friend whom she had known and loved. And Falsonbridge 
 derived no less pleasure from the countenance of Cannie. 
 He thought many times during the day that there was some- 
 thing in the clear eyes and innocent lips strangely familiar 
 — he seemed to have met with the girl far away in some 
 other land, of which he retained only a shadowy recollec- 
 tion. Unable to define or explain this emotion, he at last 
 yielded himself up to the charm, and was happy at her 
 side. 
 
 If he turned from Cannie or the old man, or George, who 
 was a favorite with him, it was to gaze with much interest 
 on the graceful young Indian. Lightfoot evidently excited 
 his curiosity and admiration. There was something simple 
 and majestic about the Indian — the evidence of the posses- 
 lion of those traits which Falconbridge had been taught to 
 
220 
 
 FAIRFAX; OR, 
 
 love and reverence all his life; true native dignity, sinipacity 
 and goodness. A close observer would have said, indeed, 
 that these two youths of different race and training had 
 come of the same blood. Both bore themselves with an 
 unconscious pride, — both had the native truth and honesty 
 of the forest, in eye and lip and tone of voice. 
 
 "You are from the Lowland, I believe, sir?" said the old 
 man in his calm, collected voice, "the Tide- water region?" 
 
 "Yes, sir," returned Falconbridge ; "from the banks ol 
 Chesapeake — and I seem to have met with you, or some one 
 nearly resembling you, somewhere " 
 
 And the young man seemed to reflect. 
 
 " Yes," he added suddenly, " it was in Williamsburg one 
 day ! You were conversing with his Excellency the Gover- 
 nor, on Gloucester Street — were you not, sir?" 
 
 The old man smiled, but replied guardedly. 
 
 " I have visited "Williamsburg, sir, and I am acquainted 
 with his Excellency." 
 
 " I was sure of it, Mr. Powell — I was there at College, and 
 was walking out that evening with a Mend, when I saw you. 
 Did you live near the town ?" 
 
 "No, sir," returned the other, " higher up the country. 
 You see I have come up still further into the mountains, and 
 perhaps I shall spend all my days here. There is something 
 strangely noble to my eye in these bristling ranges, and I 
 should like to sleep my last sleep on the summit of one of 
 those peaks." 
 
 " And I, too," said Falconbridge musing: "true, it is a 
 matter of small importance where the poor body rests when 
 the spirit has left it — in the depths of the ocean, in the desert, 
 in the air as the Indian race prefer — in the lowland or the 
 mountains. But something of the old preferences govern 
 us even in this. For my part I would like my gra\e to be 
 on the summit of this very mountain — on the forehead it- 
 self of the sleeping giant, if I may call it such — yonder, 
 where that great eagle is swooping toward the immense pina 
 
THE MASTER OF GREEN "WAY COURT. 
 
 221 
 
 against the sky, full in the sinking sun. And that reminds 
 me, George," added the speaker, turning to his compan- 
 ion, " that we should set out for home unless we wish to be 
 benighted. I have had a happy day, sir, and thank you all 
 for it." 
 
 "With these words Falconbridge rose. 
 
 " I have something to give you for Lord Fairfax, sir," said 
 the old man, " as you no doubt will see him. I will procure 
 it, and request you to take charge cf it." 
 
 He retired as he spoke, and soon returned with a small 
 package, secured with a heavy wax seal, which he handed to 
 Falconbridge. The young man thought it somewhat singu- 
 lar that it had not been entrusted to George, who was going 
 straight to Greenway, but said nothing, and bade all fare* 
 well. 
 
 George, however, was not ready : a circumstjx.ce which 
 he explained by saying that he wished to discover if the 
 stories about carrier-pigeons were true — and especially if 
 Cannie's favorite one " would carry a message " from Green- 
 way to the mountain. He accordingly proceeded to ccax 
 the pigeon to descend by scattering some crumbs, and grad- 
 ually approach it, as it tipped about, picking them up. 
 Cannie had meanwhile called Falconbridge's attention to her 
 prince's feathers, cardinal flowers, and primroses in a bed 
 near the fence, and the young man bent down and examined 
 them with a pleasure and interest which was rather on ac- 
 count of their mistress than their own, but no less delighted 
 the smiling girl. 
 
 As he did so, he did not observe that in turning round he 
 had dropped from the breast pocket ol his doublet the 
 package which the old man had entrusted to him. 
 
 George soon secured the pigeon, and imprisoning it care 
 (ally in his bosom, announced his readiness to depart. With 
 many cordial pressures of the hand, and kind words, the 
 two young men then mounted their horses, and were rapidly 
 proceeding on the way to their respective abodes. 
 
222 
 
 FAIRFAX; OR, 
 
 They parted at a point where they encountered the road 
 leading from Greenway to the Ordinary — George turning to 
 the right, Falconbridge to the left — with friendly smiles, and 
 a promise on George's part to come soon and see his friend, 
 at Mynheer Van Doring's. 
 
 Falconbridge rode on, busy with his own thoughts, and 
 had nearly reached the Ordinary, when suddenly he remem- 
 bered the package entrusted to him by the old man, which 
 he had intended to deliver to George for the hands of the 
 Earl. He put his hand into his doublet — it was gone! 
 Greatly annoyed at the circumstance, and wondering how 
 he had lost it, he thought at first of retracing his steps, but 
 gave up the intention, as the setting sun preluded night, 
 and he would not be able to find it. 
 
 Promising himself to search for it on the succeeding morn- 
 ing, he continued his way. 
 
 The search on the next day proved useless. 
 
 Ten minutes after the departure of the young men from 
 the mountain cottage, and soon after Cannie and her grand- 
 father had entered the house, the bear Bruin descried the 
 glittering object, and either attracted by the color, or liking 
 the flavor of the wax, bore it off to a spot in the forest, and 
 amused himself in mouthing and tearing it. Unimportant 
 as it seemed, the circumstance had an influence almost 
 fatal upon the destinies of three persons. 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COtJRT. 
 
 223 
 
 XLV. 
 
 nr WHICH CAPTAIN WAGNER REQUESTS MONSIEUR JAMBOT TO 
 PULL HIS NOSE. 
 
 HE spectacle which greeted Falconbridge as he 
 entered the doorway of the Ordinary, was one of 
 those tableaux which are only presented upon 
 extraordinary occasions, and under peculiai 
 circumstances. 
 
 In the middle of the apartment, Captain "Wagner and 
 Monsieur Jambot were locked in a tender, and fraternal 
 embrace, upon which Mrs. Butterton looked with tears of 
 joyous agitation and hysterical delight. 
 
 "What had caused this fine picture ? Let us explain. 
 
 Since the evening when Mrs. Butterton yielded to the on- 
 set of the valiant Borderer, the bosom of Monsieur Jambot 
 had been consumed by a gloomy internal fire. He had 
 speedily discovered the result of that low-toned conversation 
 between the Captain and the widow— and the discovery was 
 gall and wormwood to him. He had flattered himself, with 
 that talent for hope which characterizes his nation, tkat all 
 obstacles to an union with himself would disappear from the 
 mind of Mrs. Butterton — that she regarded Captain Wag- 
 ner with nothing more than ordinary friendship — and that 
 he himself had only to wait, and the prize would be his 
 own. 
 
 When he now found his rival successful, his own hopes all 
 crushed, the demon of revenge invaded his breast; and he 
 set about obeying its dictates. 
 
 On the evening of the day to which we have now arrived, he 
 clad himself carefully from top to toe, and paid minute at- 
 tention to every detail of his costume and appearance. His 
 
224 
 
 FAIRFAX ; OR, 
 
 silk stockings were irreproachable; his coat almost as good 
 as new; his frill immense and snow-white; his cocked hat 
 resting gallantly on his powdered peruke, the model chapeau 
 of a noble chevalier. Indeed Jambot was truly a chevalier 
 of Touraine, of no means, but vastly ancient race, — and had 
 much of the bel air in his carriage when he chose to adopt ii 
 — he was a noble still. 
 
 In this guise he presented himself before Mrs. Butterton, 
 and declared with deep sadness that in the distant land to 
 which he was soon about to proceed, he would always re- 
 member her, and speak of her to his friends with admiration 
 and respect. 
 
 The fair lady looked surprised at this announcement, and 
 said: 
 
 "Why, where are you going, Monsieur Jambot?" 
 
 " I go to my native Touraine, madame," returned Monsieur 
 Jambot with a touching air, " I am desolated to announce 
 this to madame, but 'tis necessary. I go to the home of my 
 race, to my native land. My worthy aunt has had the polite- 
 ness to die — I have some rentes — my cousin, the Vicomte 
 de Louvais, will give the poor exile home — or in the most 
 hospitable mansion of my uncle, Monsieur le Chevalier de 
 Sautry, I shall linger out, it may be, these few sad years, 
 which, alas ! will pass themselves so far from madame \" 
 
 With these words Monsieur Jambot assumed an expres- 
 sion of mingled love and sorrow, which really became him, 
 and had no little effect upon the widow. She had liked 
 iilonsieur Jambot — had indeed thought seriously of bestow- 
 ing her hand upon him — a possession which he evidently 
 coveted, He was poor and homeless, but then he was gal- 
 lant and chivalric; he might be romantic and unfit for busi- 
 ness, but then he was devoted and kind-hearted — he would 
 love her and wait upon her; she might do worse than be- 
 come Madame Jambot. These reflections, we say, had more 
 than once passed through the mind of Mrs. Butterton, and 
 now when the triste exile as he often called himself, spoke of 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 225 
 
 departing — when he addressed her in a strain of such touch- 
 ing regret and affection — the heart of the lady felt all its 
 old impressions revive, and the graces of Captain Wagner 
 for the moment quite disajDpeared from her memory. She 
 therefore responded to the touching address of her admirer 
 by looking sadly at him, and saying : 
 
 " Are you really obliged to go, Monsieur Jambot ?" 
 
 " 'Tis better/' replied her sorrowful companion; " 'tis best 
 for the peace of mind of madame'spoor friend. That friend 
 will not make himself too free with those events, he will say 
 those tragic events, which have come to desolate his life, to 
 crush his hopes, to make the life of him but a mocking 
 dream, a chimera, which disappears ! May the friend of the 
 poor chevalier be happy in one who goes to love her much, 
 though not so greatly as another ! May he feel in his na- 
 tive home, at the board of De Sautry, or on the battlements 
 of the Chateau de Louvais which makes itself admired by all 
 upon the green banks of the Loire, that he has still a friend 
 — a fair and beautiful friend in the distant land from which 
 he now goes to depart — may he know that one whom he has 
 loved, with a love so profound, so devoted, so ineffable, has 
 not forgotten him, but thinks still of him, and perhaps in 
 the bright days will murmur, 'Finally he loved me very 
 much, this poor sad chevalier — this exile !' " 
 
 The head of the fair widow sank. The mournful words 
 impressed her deeply, and revived all her old affection. 
 There was more than one emotion in her heart as she gazed 
 at him now, sadly and kindly, There was pity, regard, that, 
 sympathy which the female bosom never fails to conceive for 
 the man who loves with real devotion — there was more. 
 Monsieur Jambot was thus, after all, a nobleman ! His 
 family were Chevaliers and Viscounts ! He was going back 
 to the battlements of castles and chateaus, the possessions 
 of his uncles and cousins ! As Madame Jambot, she would 
 have sat at the right hand of the noble De Sautry, and De 
 Louvais — been, a member of that elevated and refined sooie- 
 
226 
 
 FAIRFAX; OR, 
 
 ty — this was lost to her ! Such reflections wore passing 
 through the mind of the lady, and they were not without 
 their effect upon her. She had abundant reason to know 
 that all that Monsieur Jambot said was true — and her head 
 drooped as she gazed at him. It is no more than justice to 
 add, however, that pity and grief at parting with an old 
 friend were the chief causes of her sadness. Th* tone of 
 her companion was hopeless and resigned — he was yielding 
 like an honest chevalier to a more favored rival, — without 
 complaint, with the air of a gentleman who is unfortunate 
 and retires. Could she suffer him to depart without assur- 
 ing him of her lasting affection ? 
 
 These reflections had so much influence upon her, that 
 the fair Mrs. Butterton begged Monsieur Jambot to come 
 and sit beside her. He obeyed with a resigned and touch- 
 ing air, which deepened the impression produced by hia 
 words. 
 
 The lady then proceeded to reply to his sad address. 
 Gracefully evading the allusion to "another," she professed 
 for Monsieur Jambot a lasting and most affectionate regard. 
 He had proved himseif, she said, a true friend, on very many 
 occasions — she had found from many circumstances, that 
 he was as reliable and devoted in his regard, as he was 
 kindly and sincere in his feelings, and she could not give 
 him up — she could not bid him farewell — he must not — 
 must not — go ! 
 
 With these words, the last of which were uttered in a 
 broken and agitated voice, the fair widow turned her head 
 away, placed her handkerchief to her eyes, and uttered a 
 sob. 
 
 The sound seemed to act like an electric shock upon Mon- 
 sieur Jambot. He uttered a deep groan — cried, "Oh 
 heaven! She weeps !" — and falling upon his knees, caught 
 her other hand in his own, and pressed it ardently to his 
 lips. 
 
 It was just at this moment that a heavy step resounded 
 behind Monsieur Jambot, a tremendous growl was heard. 
 
THE MASTER Of GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 227 
 
 and a sonorous voice, full of wrath and astonishment, 
 cried : 
 
 "Ho there! On his knees, or the devil fly away with 
 mo r 
 
 It was Captain Wagner : — Captain Wagner astounded ; 
 Captain Wagner furious; Captain Wagner boiling with fiery 
 jealousy and indignation, and threatening with his drawn 
 sword to let loose the bloody dogs of war upon his enemy. 
 
 Monsieur Jambot rose quickly to his feet, and returned 
 the look of the Captain with one equally ferocious. 
 
 "Ah? ventrebleu! Monsieur le Capitaine goes to get 
 angry V* he hissed in a mocking and satiric tone. " Mon- 
 sieur is of the jealous !" 
 
 " No sir ! I'm not jealous," returned the Captain, " but 
 it is my intention to spit your carcass on this little trinket 
 —to skin you, and eat you, hind legs and all, Monsieur 
 Frog-eater ! If I don't I'm a dandy and a kitten !" 
 
 With these awful words, the Captain advanced straight on 
 Monsieur Jambot, who had whipped out his little dress- 
 sword, and did not budge an inch; and in an instant the 
 weapons clashed together. 
 
 A grim pleasure at his opponent's pluck came to the 
 face of the Captain, and gravely saluting with his other 
 hand, he made a lunge at his foe which would have 
 carried out the terrible threat just uttered, had it not 
 been for an unexpected circumstance. This circumstance 
 was nothing less than the disappearance of the valiant Cap- 
 tain's head, shoulders, arm and sabre, beneath a huge horse- 
 blanket, from the folds of which the weapon of the soldier 
 made ineffectual slashes m the air. 
 
 The hysterical Mrs. Butterton had performed this feat. 
 In her agitation she had seized and made use of the huge 
 wrapping, and it had answered the purpose which she de- 
 signed. Captain Wagner resembled, as he struggled and 
 struck out wildly, one of those luckless individuals whom 
 the Venetian " Ten " doomed to the stiletto, a mantle being 
 thrown over their heads before the b|pw» 
 
225 
 
 In an instant he extricated himself, breathing fire and 
 daughter; but it was only to iind his sword arm drawn down 
 by the entire weight of Mrs. Bntterton's person. 
 
 "For shame, Captain! for shame!'' cried the ladv, with 
 blushing agitation, and pouting; "how could you treat 
 Monsieur Jambot so badly, so cruelly!" 
 
 " Ba<Iiy, madam V thundered the Captain, with Olympian 
 in ii.ii 5. :i ji* xii iSMiislzi-ri.:.. '• CnellT '. D:i I not sve 
 him with my own eyes kneeling there ! Did I not see him 
 kifffdug your hand, madam, and making Ioyc to you f 
 
 ; ii i:i >i~ _7 Li- i. — L?.t 5-oii me 
 
 lady, with a more obvious pout still; "my hand is mj own, 
 and no one else's V 
 
 "That may be, madam," returned the soldier, still irate, 
 but growing cooler at these significant words, " but 111 none 
 the less have Monsieur's blood!" 
 
 " Ton shall not fight with him, or he with you !" cried the 
 widow, again, alarmed at the Captain's ferocity; "I tell you 
 it was nothing; Monsieur Jambot is going juxpj !" 
 
 And Mrs, Bt::tert:n r sr. lily r^xi t*_c tmu:^ :: the 
 interview; forgetting, however, to mention the unimportant 
 circumstance that she had urged the nephew of the Che- 
 vaier de Sautry not to depart. The history quite changed 
 the feelings and intentions of the worthj Captain. He 
 grew gradually cooler, and soon recovered all his equanim- 
 ity, when he reflected that his rival was about to go. Had he 
 not been guilty, indeed, of wanton insult and annoyance to 
 that gentleman ? Was his ferocious attack well calculated 
 to advance hirn in the estimation of his lady love ? Did he 
 not owe Monsieur Jain do t a fall and frank explanation — an 
 apology, and a disclaimer of all intent to outrage him ? 
 
 These thoughts passed seriatim through the mind of the 
 worthy, as he listened; and at the end of the relation, his 
 mind was made up. Replacing his sword in its scabbard, 
 he fixed upon Mrs. Butterton a look foil of sorrowful but 
 ardent adoration, and said : 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 229 
 
 "I am glad tliat you arrested me in my course, madam ! 
 I was wrong. But in certain states of mind, I have always 
 observed that the most intelligent men act like fools, or non 
 compos mentis people, as the Greeks say. You understand 
 me, madam," said the Captain, with immense significance; 
 " and I leave you to decide. As to Monsieur Jambot, I am 
 willing and even desirous to assure that gentleman, for whom 
 I have a very high esteem, of my regrets. I was wrong — I 
 was a fool and ninny, or I'm a dandy ! Monsieur Jambot, I 
 have grown a pair of long ears, I'm a donkey, or the devil 
 take it! If it will be any satisfaction, and productive of 
 any pleasure to you, you are at liberty to pull my miserable 
 nose, or cut off, with that handsome sword of yours, the 
 lengthy ears of which I spoke — only I beg of you to pull 
 with a gentle and tender hand, and to leave enough of the 
 said ears to grow out agaii* -or the future historian of my 
 eventful life will write in the book which he makes about 
 my adventures, the words, c Captain Longknife was destitute 
 of ears!' which would be shocking and mortifying to my 
 descendants — to my very great grandchildren !" 
 
 "With these solemn word,s, Captain Wagner bowed cour- 
 teously to Monsieur Jambot, and added : 
 
 "I am ready to shake hands, my dear friend, and beg 
 your pardon — I'll do it — if I don't, I'm a dandy!" 
 
 "Shake hands!" cried Monsieur Jambot, whose temper 
 was excitable, but as generous as the day, " it shall not be 
 that we shake hands, Mon cher Capitaine and Mend — that 
 we embrace!" 
 
 As he spoke the worthy Jambot extended his arms, and 
 the two bloody foes were locked in a fraternal embrace. 
 rLe chin of Captain Wagner reposed affectionately beWeen 
 the shoulders of his friend; the countenance of Monsieur 
 Jambot appeared above the arm of the other; and to make 
 the whole complete, the fair lady who had caused all the 
 commotion, stood by crying — but laughing too, and rejoic- 
 ing at the result 
 
180 
 
 FAIRFAX ; OR, 
 
 It was the a that Falconbridge entered, and stood silent 
 with astonishment; but all was soon explained to him. 
 
 " The fact is, my dear Falconbridge, your friend Wagnfli, 
 is a fool," said the Captain; "but when a man grows jealouh 
 he sees things double, or I'm a dandy ! I remember hearing 
 about a black fellow who knocked up a courtship with some 
 king's daughter or other, by his nigger-witchcraft, and ran 
 off with her * — after which -he got jealous without any rea- 
 son, and choked her to death with a bolster. Falcon- 
 bridge," said the Captain, with affecting solemnity of ac- 
 cent, "beware of jealousy I" 
 
 * This somewhat free description of the " noble Moor '* of «ih?keapeare, and his 
 Beans of influencing Deedemona, was uttered in the hearing of *h« writer, by a 
 vsrthy, who added that the name of the lady, as wall a* ha could reooUest, Pas 
 iWXhs. 
 
THE PIASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 XLV. 
 
 THE LAMIA. 
 
 HE passion of Lord Fairfax for Miss Argal ripen- 
 ed rapidly, and soon attained its full strength. 
 It was one of those fatal infatuations which par« 
 alyze the reason, and lead captive the wills oi 
 the strongest and most resolute men. 
 
 From that evening when George encountered him in the 
 Massinutton, and when they met Miss Argal and Falcon- 
 bridge on the prairie, the Earl had not ceased to think of 
 her with a singular emotion. There was something in this 
 young lady which no one could describe — an impalpable 
 and wondrous fascination — which, when it had once been 
 felt, was an influence on the life, an irresistible spell which 
 could not be thrown off. Her beauty was but a small part 
 of this magnetic power. Her face, it is true, with its rosy 
 cheeks, crimson lips, and framework of black curls, was of 
 rare loveliness : her figure, both full and undulating, both 
 sweeping and redundant, was enough to attract admiration; 
 but the secret of her influence lay deeper, and was difficult 
 to define. It was chiefly, a keen observer might have said, 
 in the eye, and its expression, or its thousand expressions, 
 rather. It was a strange and wonderful pair of eyes. The 
 lamia of the poets — that mythological creature, with the 
 form of a woman, and the instincts of a serpent — might have 
 afforded an illustration of Miss Argal at times. Indeed, 
 this serpent-like glance, dark and glittering, but full of 
 caressing sweetness and subtle fascination as well, almost 
 always shone from beneath her long silken lashes. It was 
 a sidelong and wary glance, as if the person were watching 
 
232 
 
 FAIRFAX ,* OB, 
 
 — a cunning and yet confiding gaze, tying in wait, as it 
 were, for its prey. It could coax and cajole, and beseech, 
 and wheedle — it took all characters, and be wilder c<l the 
 mind, but ended by bringing the victim to her feet. 
 
 It was wonderful, miraculous, almost, what a magnetic 
 power lay in those eyes — a power to fascinate, to persuade, 
 to bend the reason, however strong-willed and imperial. It 
 had been nothing to draw the ardent and impulsive youn^ 
 man to her side — Falconbridge was ripe for a passionate 
 attachment — he was young, unsuspecting, an admirer of the 
 beautiful; with a heart which the first beautiful woman 
 might enslave from the very enthusiasm and warmth of hi? 
 nature. But Lord Fairfax ! To win that cold and collected 
 man ! — to turn the old dry nobleman, past middle life, into 
 a bashful and embarrassed lover ! To move a heart long 
 unmoved — to bend a will so resolute and determined — tc 
 make that woman-hater, or woman-fearer, yield to her wiles, 
 and follow her w^en she beckoned ! That was truly an un- 
 dertaking worthy of her ambition. She worked for it — and 
 she achieved her end. 
 
 It is not pleasant to analyze such a character. We touch 
 upon those mysterious and shifting motives and impulses 
 as the mariner in the frozen regions of the North, in the 
 gloomy night, treads cautiously and with repugnance on 
 the floating mass ol ict> which envelops his ship. There 
 was little love in question, on her part. She was attracted 
 toward Lord Fairfax by his wealth and position — by the 
 ambition of becoming his Countess, and thus becoming mis- 
 tress, in fact, of one fourth, very nearly, of the province. 
 
 Thread by thread the Neb was woven. The Earl of Fair- 
 fax soon came to feel a passionate attachment for the fas- 
 cinating woman, and to visit her regularly — sometimes in 
 the absence of Falconbridge, sometimes when he was pres- 
 ent. But he did not exhibit any indications of his passion 
 beyond this. His cold mask was never thrown off for a 
 moment His countenance with its grim, sad smile, scarce* 
 
THE MASTER OF GREEWAY COURT. 
 
 233 
 
 ly relaxed — lie was tlie same calm, and cynical philosopher 
 as before, the same courteous gentleman, but no more, 
 One thing was apparent, however, in his demeanor. He 
 avoided Falconbridge, and seemed ill at ease in his society; 
 but let it not be supposed from this that the Earl was con- 
 scious of committing an injustice in visiting the young lady 
 Miss Argal had distinctly informed him one morning, that 
 she was not bound in any way to Falconbridge — that he 
 was merely a friendly visitor who was lonely at the Ordin- 
 ary, and came over to chat with her and her father. The 
 Earl had thus set his mind at rest on the subject, and re- 
 garded himself as wholly irreproachable in the undertaking 
 which he had determined upon now, the attempt to make 
 Miss Argal his Countess. 
 
 We have forborne to describe the feelings of Falcon- 
 bridge. The task was more than we were willing to attempt. 
 There is something awful and darkly tragic in the picture 
 of a noble and great heart writhing under the dominion of 
 a mad passion for a woman, and feeling that his passion is 
 a vain one. For to this conclusion had the young man now 
 very nearly arrived. He could scarcely mistake the indica- 
 tions of Miss Argal's manner. She was no longer what she 
 had been to him. All her delightful smiles, and caressing 
 accents, had disappeared. She met him when he came with 
 ill-concealed disinclination, and opposed to his questions 
 and prayers for an explanation, an obdurate and uncon- 
 querable reserve. If she replied at all, it was only to say, 
 with cold politeness, that Mr. Falconbridge really placed 
 too much stress upon trifles; young ladies, like their svpe- 
 riors, young men, were subject to changes of mood; she was 
 not well to-day; the discussion made her head ache; was 
 there any news of interest at the Ordinary? — she supposed 
 he would soon return home now, as he had said his busi- 
 ness in the region was finished. She would advise him to. 
 The air of the mountains, after October, was very cold — he 
 would catch a catarrh — and she really would advise him, as 
 
FAIRFAX; OB, 
 
 a friend to return. Ah I there was Lord Fair fax I Would 
 Mr. Falconbridge excuse her for a moment? His lord- 
 ship was always pleased when she met him at the door." 
 
 That was all. And Falconbridge would grind his lip with 
 his teeth, bow coldly as the Earl entered, and discover that 
 he had to meet George, or Captain Wagner, at the Ordinary. 
 He would go away raging; and bury himself in his cham- 
 ber, and grow old hour by hour, in presence of his misery. 
 
 To this point the history of the persons had advanced, 
 whei- w« again return to particular scenes in the narrative*. 
 
THE MASTEK OF GREENWx ' 3oCHT. 
 
 LLVL 
 
 HOW FALCONBRinGif AiNBLEb A FiRE TO SEC BT. 
 
 T was nearly sunset, and a heavy bank of lurid 
 cloud, friu/jed with crimson, was piled up m the 
 western horizon. It was plain that a storm 
 would burst before the sunlight shone again, and 
 every eye which witnessed the magnificent spectacle, was en- 
 tranced by its grandeur and wild beauty. 
 
 Falconbri&ge alone, of all at the Ordinary, did not heed 
 it. Seated in his chamber, his shoulders bending forward, 
 his face pale, his eyes blazing at times with a menacing fire, 
 he did not move or utter a word. The events of the last 
 few days had almost paralyzed him. He seemed to be 
 growing old. His face had lost all its bloom and freshness ; 
 his bearing all its buoyant grace and pride; he stooped like 
 an octogenarian, who approaches the end of human life, 
 after .much toil and suffering and grief. 
 
 The mood of the young man's mind was piteous. Rage 
 and despair, love and hatred, a thousand warring and dis- 
 cordant passions, held riotous carnival in the heaving 
 bosom, and tore him with their burning talons. 
 
 He knew all now. He had become aware of Miss Argal's 
 intentions with regard to the Earl; and though the young - 
 lady had not distinctly broken with him, he foresaw that she 
 had resolved to do so, and would dismiss him on the first 
 favorable opportunity. Thus, then, would end his wild and 
 delicious dream. The passionate love, which permeated his 
 very life-blood, would be swallowed up in this gulf of des- 
 pair. He would be thrown off like a useless garment, whose 
 gloss has departed — which no longer excites any emotion 
 
236 
 
 FAIRFAX ; OR, 
 
 but contempt. The Countess of Fairfax, if they ever met 
 again, would smile or sneer at their past relations, and 
 greet him with an air of condescension or indifference. The 
 Earl would not insult him, perhaps — he would treat him 
 with great politeness ; a former friend of his Countess 
 wo aid be entitled to so much attention; and he would be 
 bowed out grandly from their presence, he, the silly young 
 adventurer, who had presumed to be the rival of his bet- 
 ters ! 
 
 The thought flushed the pale cheek, and brought a threaten- 
 ing flash to the eyes. He rose from his seat, and looked 
 around him with a fiery glance. Where was he ? Why was 
 he inactive? Was he to sit down and groan, and submit to 
 his fate — or go and dare the worst, and place everything 
 upon a comprehensible footing ? 
 
 Yes, he would go ! He would see her for the last time. 
 He would know, beyond all doubt, what she intended, what 
 he might expect. He would endure no longer this horrible 
 state of doubt — all should be plain. , 
 
 Falconbridge acted quickly. He went and ordered his 
 horse — passed through the main apartment without speak- 
 ing to anyone, — and was soon in the saddle. The sky began 
 to grow darker, the distant thunder to mutter; and one or 
 two vivid flashes of lightning darted across the zenith, re- 
 vealing the lurid depths more plainly. Falconbridge paid 
 no attention to these evidences of the approaching storm. 
 He struck the spur into his horse's sides; and set forward 
 at a wild pace, towards Mr. Argal's. 
 
 He soon reached the place, and the fiery light in his eyes 
 deepened and grew more menacing at the sight which greet- 
 ed him at the door. Lord Fairfax's horse stood there— indeed 
 the Earl had spent the entire afternoon with Miss Argal, her 
 father being again una> oidably absent, and the former ex- 
 cuse of her loneliness having proved successful in retaining 
 his lordship. 
 
 Falconbridge set his teeth together like a vice, dismount 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWA.Y COURT. 
 
 237 
 
 ed, and went and knocked at the door. It was opemd by a 
 servant, who did not move aside for the young gentleman. 
 
 " Miss Argal?" he said, making a step in advance. 
 
 Mistress had told her to say, replied the servant, if Mr. 
 Falconbridge came, that she was engaged and must ba 
 excused for not seeing him. 
 
 That was all. The words sounded like a death-knell in 
 the young man's ears. He simply bowed his head and de- 
 parted. He almost staggered as he walked. 
 
 His brain was turning round. He mounted his horse 
 again, and set forth on his return. Then he would not even 
 have an opportunity of arriving at a distinct understanding ! 
 What she had done once she would do again. He was to be 
 simply dismissed contemptuously, as if unworthy of atten- 
 tion, — as a common individual, whose society was disagree- 
 able. Meanwhile, Lord Fairfax was sitting by the side of 
 the young lady, laughing, it might be, at the disappointment 
 of his rival, and basking in the love-lighfc of her fascinating 
 eyes, and those smiles which now shone for him alone. 
 
 The thought maddened the young man almost. He looked 
 over his shoulder at the illuminated window, through which 
 he descried the shadows of the young lady and the Earl, 
 close beside each other. With a muttered imprecation, and 
 clenched hands, the young man struck his horse with the 
 spur, and galloped forward. But he did not proceed far. 
 Just as the house began to disappear in the trees, he reined 
 in his animal and waited — his resolution was taken. 
 
 He did not wait long. Lord Fairfax, as we have said, had 
 spent many hours with Miss Argal, and now desired to 
 reach his home before the outburst of the storm. He ac- 
 cordingly bade the young lady farewell. Falconbridge saw 
 the two forms in the brightly illuminated doorway, aud 
 mounting his horse, set forward rapidl} 7 toward Greenway. 
 
 The Earl passed within five paces of Falconbridge, but 
 the darkness, which had descended quickly, completely hid 
 ihe motionless horse and his rider. It was no part of the 
 
388 
 
 FAIRFAX; OBj 
 
 young man's design to force an explanation of the charactel 
 which he intended from the Earl, within sight or hearing of 
 Miss Argal. He accordingly permitted the tall horseman to 
 pass him at Ml gallop ; and then giving rein to Sir John, he 
 followed. 
 
 The Earl heard the quick trampling behind him, and won- 
 dered at it. The hour and the place were not calculated to 
 remove his suspicions of the pursuer — but he continued his 
 way without noticing the circumstance. 
 
 The hoof-strokes rapidly approached — he heard the quick 
 breathing of the animal behind him — then, before he could 
 speak, a violent hand was laid on his bridle, and the horse, 
 suddenly arrested, reared erect almost, quivering with 
 terror. 
 
 At the same moment a vivid flash of lightning revealed 
 
 Falconbridge. 
 
 " Sir ! Mr. Falconbridge !" exclaimed the Earl, in a voice 
 of utter astonishment and no less indignation, "pray,' what 
 is the meaning of this very extraordinary proceeding ?" 
 
 " I will inform your lordship before our interview ends," 
 returned Falconbridge, in a deep, hollow voice, which his 
 suffering had rendered almost unrecognizable. 
 
 "Are you mad, sir?*' said the Earl, from the darkness ; 
 "release my bridle!" 
 
 "Willingly," was the cold reply; "you are no coward, and 
 will not escape me!" 
 
 "Escape! coward! You shall answer for those words, 
 fiir!" 
 
 " I am ready to do so." 
 
 " In the darkness, no doubt," returned the Earl, full of 
 contempt and aroused anger, "'tis the favorite cloak of 
 assassins and lunatics." 
 
 The words were scarcely uttered when Falconbridge was 
 heard leaping from his horse Then a quick sound followed 
 —the sound of steel striking against flint — and almost im- 
 raadiatery a pile of dry leaves and prairie grass was blazing 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWA£ JOUBT. 28$ 
 
 aloft, illuminating the forest and the threatening figures 
 with its brilliant flame. 
 
 "Now," said Falconbridge, in the same hollow Toice, " if 
 your lordship is not afraid, you may dismount and listen 
 to my questions." 
 
 The word "afraid" acted like magic on Lord Fairfax. He 
 threw himself from the saddle, and gazing at his companion 
 with mingled astonishment and anger, confronted him in 
 the full blaze of the fire. 
 
 There was something strange and tragic in the scene as 
 the two men stood thus. The ruddy light streamed full 
 upon them, and they already had their hands upon their 
 swords. 
 
 " Speak, sir," said the Earl, controlling his anger ; "speak ; 
 and explain this astonishing encounter." 
 
 "I will do so," said Falconbridge, " and first I will pro- 
 pound a question to you, my lord. Have you visited Misa 
 Argal to-day?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "Were you not there when I came to the door and asked 
 for the young lady?" 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "Are you aware that the young lady is plighted to me?" 
 " Plighted, sir ! No ! She is not V 
 " Does vour lordship design giving me the lie ?" 
 And the young man advanced a step, half drawing hia 
 sword. 
 
 " Mr. Falconbridge," said the Earl, without moving, " ar« 
 you a lunatic? I design nothing, sir,— J reply to youi 
 question. I say that Miss Argal is not plighted to yaq, 
 because she assured me that she was not." 
 
 " She assured you !" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 " My lord, I do not believe you." 
 The Earl's face flushed crimson. 
 "That is a deliberate insult 1" 
 "Yesl M 
 
240 
 
 FAIRFAX; OR, 
 
 " As such I receh e it, and will make you answer for it, 
 air, at the point of the sword !" 
 
 " Good ! good !" said Falconbridge, with gloomy pleasure, 
 " now your lordship is talking like a man. I thought, aa 
 you had tricked an honest gentleman — supplanted him by 
 craft and cunning in the heart of the only woman he evei 
 loved — taken advantage of your rank and wealth to wile 
 away the affections of a lady plighted to another — I thought, 
 as you had done all this, my lord, pretending all the time 
 that you were the best friend I had, — that you would now 
 discover some means of evading my vengeance — of refusing 
 me reparation at the sword's point! I compliment your 
 lordship — you are not frightened at the sight of cold steel 
 at least — you are aroused by my rudeness and my insults ! 
 That is well, sir ! Let us end, then, all our differences at 
 once, and on this spot — with no witnesses, no preliminaries, 
 without ceremony I" 
 
 And drawing his sword, Falconbridge advanced upon the 
 Earl, whose weapon was also in his hand. 
 
 But it was not raised. The momentary madness of an- 
 ger had disappeared from the mind of Lord Fairfax — he 
 seriously asked himself if he was not dealing with a mad- 
 man. The additional consideration immediately presented 
 itself, that a combat at such a time and place, without wit- 
 nesses, would be productive of the most serious results to 
 the survivor. No evidence that the contest was fair and 
 honorable would exist. The simple fact would be that a 
 man was killed; and there were plenty of persons ready to 
 utter the word murder. If he killed the young man in that 
 lonely spot, could he produce any evidence of the provoca- 
 tion which had led to the act? Would not many of the 
 miserable newsmongers of the region say tUat jealousy and 
 rivalry had made him waylay his adversary? As these 
 thoughts passed rapidly through the brain of the Earl, he 
 drew back coldly, and sheathed his weapon. 
 
 " Mr. Falconbridge," he said, without moving, as the fa* 
 
THE MASTER OF GEEENWAV COURT. 241 
 
 rious young man advanced straight on him, "if you wish tc 
 kill me, do so. I will not even trust my sword in my hand. 
 You may not be aware of the fact, but I am, sir, that the 
 survivor in this combat will be regarded as a murderer. Bui 
 understand me, sir, I do not refuse your challenge — you 
 have outraged and insulted me in a manner which no gen- 
 tleman can bear, and by heavens ! you shall answer it I Go 
 home, and do all tlAigs decently and in order. Procure 
 your second, and write me a formal communication. Do not 
 fear, sir! You have made me as desirous of this encounter 
 as yourself, and I am willing, nay, I insist upon it — my 
 blood or your own must flow, sir !" 
 
 With which words the Earl deliberately mounted his 
 horse, and gravely saluting his adversary, continued his road 
 toward Greenway. 
 
 Falconbridge gazed after him for a few moments without 
 moving. The excess of anger in his bosom had somewhat 
 moderated, as he listened to the collected voice of the Earl 
 — but it soon returned in full force again. He had thought 
 of Miss Argal and the two shadows on the wall. With lips 
 firmly compressed, and a more fatal determination in hia 
 eye than before, he leaped into the saddle, and just as the 
 storm began to roar around him, and extinguish the fire, 
 darted forward in the direction of the Ordinary 
 
 " The net is broken !" he muttered, with a bitter snoer, 
 through his close-set teeth, "but the prey has not «*• 
 oapedl" 
 
 11 
 
245 
 
 FAIRFAX; OB. 
 
 xlvil 
 
 PRELIMINARIES. 
 
 DUEL!" said Captain Wagner, when upon 
 the following morning Falconbridge related to 
 him the events of the preceding night — " a duel ! 
 and about that woman ! By the snout of the 
 old he-dragon ! Falconbridge, both you and Fairfax are a 
 bigger pair of lunatics than I took you for." 
 
 " So let it be," said Falconbridge, pale and collected as be- 
 fore, " and I do not conceal from yon — I cannot — that Miss 
 Argal is connected with the matter." 
 
 " Connected with it! Falconbridge, don't treat me like an 
 idiot," said the Captain, gloomily, " I am sane in mind, and 
 see somewhat further than my nose." 
 The young man made no reply. 
 
 " I knew it was coming in some form or other — this mis* 
 ery, and wretchedness and blood!" continued the Captain 
 in a sombre tone, " I smelt it in the air — this bloody odor — 
 or the devil take it!" 
 
 " You were right in your warning," muttered the young 
 man, with unutterable despair m hi s altered voice 1 "Would 
 that I had taken your advice." 
 
 "About the nature of panthers, eh?" said Wagner, as 
 grimly as before; "well, I wish you had." 
 
 " It would have been well for me." 
 
 " But you did not believe me, u said the Captain, frowning 
 painfully. " And now see, Falconbridge, how things have 
 turned out. You doubted the miserable old bear who 
 (prowled at the pretty, variegated animal, with her shining 
 
THE MASTER OF ^REENWAY SOUBT. 248 
 
 coat, her brilliant eyes, her caresses, and smiles, and bright 
 glances! You were almost ready to strike your sword hilt 
 into the mouth that discoursed on the subject. And now, 
 what has happened ? You have felt the sharp claws which 
 I told you of I You have rolled into the mortal hug 1 The 
 long, glittering teeth which mangled Charles Austin and 
 left him in a pool of blood are gnawing you — you are her 
 prey!" 
 
 A groan answered the words. It was irrepressible. 
 
 " Yes, yes," murmured the young man with cruel agony 
 " y es > yes, that's all true — I am lost !" 
 
 " Not that either ! no, you re not, by the snout ci the 
 dragon!" returned the soldier; "things are not that bad at 
 least. Don't cry for spilt milk — look the thing in the face. 
 Let me speak like a doctor, comrade, and probe your wound, 
 though you shudder and cry out. I mean well — do you love 
 that woman still ?" 
 
 " I know not," was the low reply. 
 
 " Then you do love her still. And now what do you de- 
 sign?" 
 
 " Nothing." 
 
 " That means nothing. Are you going to return to her, 
 Falconbridge? Speak, and say if you are going back to 
 crouch at her feet, to be whipped and spit on, and spurned 
 like a dog! Are you going to cry and bewail, and beg her 
 to love you, and make yourself her slave, her menial ! TeD 
 me this. Speak frankly, Falconbridge — are you going to 
 return ? If so, though I love you as I would love my own 
 boy comrade, I'll wash my hands clear of the business." 
 
 " Rest easy," was the reply, in the same low voice, " I shall 
 never see her again — except to get from her the ring which 
 was my mother's." 
 
 A contraction of the pale brow and quivering lip betrayed 
 the agony of the speaker, and he was silent Then he added, 
 in a voice which was almost inaudible, 
 
 My mother gave me that ring on her death-bed, with 
 
244 
 
 FAIRFAX J OR, 
 
 her blessing. She cried as she placed it on my finger, and 3 
 never removed it until the morning when — I was mad, com- 
 panion ! Don't mind me — you see — I am thinking — of my 
 mother." 
 
 He was silent again. The words had forced their way by 
 violence as it were, through the clenched teeth, and the palo 
 lips. The eyes of the young man were dry and fixed — thero 
 were no tears in them. 
 
 " Falconbridge," said Captain Wagner, with frowning 
 brows, " stop that talk, or you'll make me cry like a baby ! 
 To think of all this — of the way you have been tricked — of 
 your honesty and true manliness — by the horns of the dev- 
 il I it makes me flush — my nerves twitch ! Would this woman 
 were a man I" 
 
 Indeed a flash of something like fiery rage darted from the 
 eyes of the soldier, and his hand stole down to the hilt of 
 his weapon. Then, as he looked into the countenance of his 
 3ompanion, this flash disappeared ; he bent down murmur- 
 ing : and the old wistful, almost tender expression returned. 
 
 " Falconbridge," he said, " my miserable old heart is bleed- 
 ing for you, as I think of what may happen in the next 
 twenty-four hours. Whatever may be the result of that 
 aombat you announce as coming, it must be horrible." 
 
 " So let it be." 
 
 "There's misery and death in the matter — the blood of 
 one or both of ycu." 
 
 " Doubtless," was the cold reply of the young man, who 
 Had completely mastered his emotion, and was calm again. 
 
 "Fairfax is an admirable swordsman ; I have played with 
 nim ; and you, do you use the short-sword?" 
 
 "Indifferent well." 
 
 " That is well — at least there will be a fair and above- 
 board fight — no unequal combat. But I know not whethe* 
 it is not unfortunate after all — if I do, may I be scalped I" 
 
 " What do you mean, Captain ?" said Falconbridge. 
 
 I mean plainly this — that in case you were ignorant ol 
 
THE MASTER OF GREEN WAY COURT. 246 
 
 the use of the small-sword, or completely out of practice, the 
 affair could not take place — it might easily be arranged — as 
 I hope it will be yet. "Without a swordsman for his oppo- 
 nent, the Earl would retire — and you would necessarily do 
 likewise." 
 
 " Never ! There would remain the pistol I" was the quick 
 reply, between the close- set teeth. 
 
 *- A villainous weapon ! No ! If there's a combat it shall 
 be with short-swords. That is fair and honorable— and 
 now what are you going to do, !f alconbridge ?" 
 
 " I shall set out at once to find some gentleman of the 
 neighborhood, who'll act as my second." 
 
 " Hum ! then you know some ?" 
 
 " One or two very slightly, but they cannot refuse me." 
 
 " Hum ! hum !" repeated the Captain, still gloomy and 
 thoughtful, but gazing at his companion from time to time 
 with the strange, wistful glance which we have noticed, " and 
 is there no possible way of accommodating this difference ?" 
 
 " None on earth. If there is no regular duel, there will 
 be a combat wherever we meet — the blood of myself or Lord 
 Fairfax must flow !" 
 
 "Misery ! misery 1" muttered the soldier; " a wretched bus- 
 iness in every way. And pray, why don't you ask me to 
 second you, Falconbridge ?" 
 
 " Because," said the young man, rewarding the speaker 
 with one of his proud glances, full of thanks and feeling 
 " because you live with Lord Fairfax, and are naturally h U 
 gecond in the matter." 
 
 " Nothing of the sort," returned Wagner, coolly; " you're 
 my friend as much as Fairfax, and by the dragon's snout, 
 I'll not have you go looking for a friend, when his lordship 
 can select one out of a hundred. Wait here, companion. 
 I'll return in an hour. Do you promise ?" 
 
 "You say 'an hour?'" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "I will wait so long, Captain — but sacrifice nothing for 
 
243 
 
 FAIRFAX; OR, 
 
 me — have no jar with his lordship. I am not worthy of 
 such friendship, or of such a sacrifice of feeling. I soon 
 pass. See the sun there, comrade! He is mounting the 
 sky — well, it is probable that I'll not see his setting. So be 
 it. 1 am tired of my life, and death cannot come too quick- 
 ly. In an hour !" 
 
 A.nd with these gloomy words, which affected the rough 
 Borderer strangely, the young man entered the building, and 
 retired to his chamber. 
 
THE MASTER OP GREENTVAT COURT. 
 
 xiiVnx 
 
 THE ABUANGEMENT. 
 
 >HE Captain set out at a thundering gallop, and 
 soon reached Greenway Court. Lord Fairfax 
 met him at the door. 
 
 " Ah ! welcome Captain Wagner," he said, 
 speaking in his habitual tone of calmness, mingled with 
 gloom; "I was just on the point of sending for you — to the 
 Ordinary, where you have been, I think." 
 " Yes, my lord. I spent the night them* 
 " And you saw Mr. Falconbridge ?" 
 "Yes, my lord This morning." 
 
 "Did he speak of the events which occurred last evening t" 
 
 " As soon as I descended. I have come as quickly as pos- 
 sible to discuss in turn with your lordship, the arrange- 
 ment of the whole affair." 
 
 The Earl inclined his head gravely, and pointed to a seat, 
 which the Captain assumed. 
 
 w Speak, Captain "Wagner," he said, calmly and courteous- 
 
 "I will do so, my lord," returned the Borderer, "and 
 frankly. It is necessary, in this miserable business between 
 yourself and Falconbridge, that I should act as the friend ol 
 your opponent. I like candor, and honesty — I prefer talk- 
 ing it out plainly. I am attached to you, my lord, I am 
 your guest, and owe much to you — but T love this young 
 man as if he was my own blood — my son ; and he's a stranger 
 here. Your lordship can find a friend who will be proud 
 to act for yoo — any one of a dozen in the country near at 
 
248 FAIRFAX ; OR, 
 
 band — while Falconb ridge is almost alone in this land. 1 
 announce this in advance, that no misunderstanding may 
 take place — and now, my lord, I await your pleasure." 
 
 " Thanks, Captain Wagner," said the Earl, with a low boAv ; 
 " it is pleasure indeed which I have experienced as you 
 spoke. I thank you, sir, for this new proof of your con''' 
 dence and esteem ; you rate me as I wish, sir, as a gentlo 
 man and an honest man. I not only acquiesce in your pro- 
 posal to act for Mr. Falconbridge, and acquit you of all want 
 of friendship in so doing toward myself — I was prepared to 
 insist upon this very course. That we understand and treat 
 each other with this confidence, is another proof of that es- 
 teem which I think we feel mutually, sir. Thanks, Captain 
 Wagner" 
 
 And the Earl inclined again. 
 
 "Now to business," he continued; "I have already dis- 
 patched a request to Colonel Carter that he will wait on me 
 here, and I think he will soon come. Do you bear any 
 communication from Mr. Falconbridge ?" 
 
 " No, my lord, I am not regularly in the position of his 
 second yet, and have avoided becoming such, in order that 
 I might act as the mutual friend of both — bound exclusively 
 to neither." 
 
 "As the friend of both?" 
 
 " Yes, my lord — and you know that such is the real truth. 
 As a friend then, in no wise connected with either, I ask, is 
 no arrangement possible without bloodshed?" 
 
 "None, none at all," returned the Earl, with gloomy calm- 
 ness; "I see no possibility of such a thing. You have 
 doubtless heard the particulars of the encounter in the wood 
 last night, and may easily understand that any explanation 
 is impossible. Let me speak more plainly, and place the 
 whole in a clear light. I have paid my addresses to Miss 
 Argal in due form, and I think she is willing to become the 
 Countess of Fairfax. Let us not speak further of this pri- 
 vate matter, which I mention only to elucidate the rest 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 249 
 
 Well, sir, I often saw Mr. Falconbridge at Mr. Argal's 
 and his attention to the young lady appeared somewhat 
 particular. I accordingly demanded of her the exact char- 
 acter of these attentions, and she assured me that they were 
 merely those of a friend. Was there any contract, definite 
 or implied, between herself and Mr. Falconbridge ? I asked. 
 None whatever, was the reply. "Why do you frown and 
 sueer so Captain, with your lip ?" 
 
 " I beg your lordship's pardon — 'tis a deplorable habit I 
 have acquired. Pray proceed." 
 
 " The rest may be related briefly. Once assured that Mr. 
 Falconbridge had no claims on Miss Argal, and believing 
 that he regarded her in the light of a familiar friend only, I 
 paid her my addresses in a more marked manner. She re- 
 ceived them in a manner which induced me to hope that my 
 attentions were agreeable, and my visits became, according- 
 ly, more frequent. Yesterday I spent the afternoon with 
 the young lady. Mr. Falconbridge called, and, to my great 
 surprise, was informed that Miss Argal was engaged, and 
 could not see him. She explained the circumstance by 
 saying that he had grown so moody and disagreeable of late 
 that she must really endeavor to break off her intimacy with 
 him — he made her melancholy. So the subject was forgot- 
 ten, and I thought no more of the young gentleman until he 
 waylaid me in the wood, and gave me the lie direct." 
 
 The Earl flushed as he spoke ; but controlled his emotion 
 and added: 
 
 * £ That is all, sir. I avoided a conflict then and there by 
 promising to meet Mr. Falconbridge at another and more 
 favorable time. You must see, Captain Wagner, that any 
 overtures from myself are utterly impossible." 
 
 The soldier knit his brows and looked more gloomy thau 
 ever. 
 
 " It's a deadly looking mixture, or I'm a dandy !" he mut- 
 tered, " and unless Falconbridge will move in the matter, 
 all's over." 
 
250 
 
 FAIRFAX \ OR, 
 
 " What do you say, Captain ?" 
 
 " Nothing much, my lord. I will go and see Falconbridge, 
 and return as soon as possible, either bearing you the 
 terms of an arrangement of the affair, or delivering his car- 
 tel." 
 
 "That is my duty," returned the Earl. "Mr. Falcon - 
 bridge will thus have choice of weapons, time and place." 
 
 " There will be no trouble about that, my lord ; now I'll 
 go and see what I can do." 
 
 With these words the soldier mounted his horse, and re- 
 turned rapidly to the Ordinary. All his attempts to more 
 the young man were utterly in vain — the arguments of the 
 Borderer fell back, so to speak, from his iron resolution, 
 like waves from an ocean rock. At the end of an hour there 
 was nothing remaining but the question of time, place and 
 weapons. The Captain returned, and found Colonel Carter 
 at Greenway, and with this gentleman he now discussed, 
 formally, as the second of Faleonbridge, the terms of the 
 combat. 
 
 It was arranged that it should take place on the same even* 
 ing at a spot within the Fort Mountain, which was secluded 
 and favorable for the purpose, and then the ^tain re- 
 turned to the Ordinary. 
 
 He had never been more gloomy. 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 251 
 
 XL2X 
 
 THE COMBAT. 
 
 S the hour which had been fixed for the combat 
 drew near, the four men entered the narrow 
 defile of the Fort Mountain, and approached th« 
 secluded spot which had been selected. 
 They dismounted, tied their horses to the hanging boughs^ 
 and advanced slowly to the arena. 
 
 Captain Wagner and his principal returned the low sa- 
 lute of Lord Fairfax, and his friend, with one equally cour- 
 teous, and then the seconds approached each other, and con- 
 versed for some moments in a low tone, which was inaudible 
 to their companions. 
 
 The preliminaries were soon arranged, and the swords 
 were produced and measured. They tallied exactly in 
 length, and were of the same weight and temper. A nod 
 from the Captain testified to his satisfaction. 
 
 At a sign from the seconds, the Earl and Falconbridge 
 then removed their coats and waistcoats, and advanced to a 
 spot indicated. They halted, saluted each otiier, and re 
 ceived the weapons from the hands of Captain "Wagner and 
 Colonel Carter. 
 
 "The terms of the combat are as follows, gentlemen/' 
 said the Captain. " You shall engage, and so proceed for 
 as loug a time as seems proper. But in no case shall any 
 personal collision of bodies take place ; there shall be do 
 clutching, and no resort to other weapons than the short- 
 sword. Should either weapon break, or the foot of either 
 party slip, or stumble, the engagement shall terminate for 
 the time. I will give the signal by raising my hand.'* 
 
252 
 
 FAIRFAX; OR, 
 
 At the appointed signal, the two men advanced upon 
 each other, and the weapons clashed together, the light oi 
 the sinking sun darting vividly from their burnished sur- 
 faces. 
 
 Both were excellent swordsmen, and soon felt that all 
 their science would be necessary. The combat was thus 
 guarded at first, and consisted of a series of fencing lunges, 
 rather than rapid thrusts, as though each were feeling the 
 wrist of his adversary. Falconbridge was the more active 
 and supple of the two — the Earl stronger and heavier in 
 his fence. Still, as the combat grew more excited, neither 
 had gained any advantage — and the blood of both gradually 
 grew heated. The Earl glared at his enemy, and a spot in 
 each cheek began to glow; on his forehead the huge veins 
 became black. Falconbridge was pale, but Hie fire in his 
 eyes contradicted his apparent calmness : his lips were set 
 together Ifke iron. 
 
 Despite his most powerful exertions the Earl could not 
 drive the young man back an inch ; and his most deadly 
 lunges were regularly parried. The old swordsman grew 
 fiery and dangerous. His cheeks glowed as if from the 
 light of a conflagration — he braced his gaunt frame until it 
 resembled a bundle of steel springs, and advanced step by 
 step upon Falconbridge. He did not yield or give ground 
 — the points of the weapons played in the very faces of the 
 combatants — the hilts were almost wrapped around each 
 other. 
 
 Then, in spite of the exclamations and protests of the 
 seconds, who hastened quickly toward them, a desperate, 
 hand to hand, stabbing-match, rather than sword-play, com- 
 menced- Both the Earl and Falconbridge received slight 
 wounds — but the sight of blood only enraged them more 
 bitterly. 
 
 In another moment each would have mortally wound- 
 ed his adversary, and so brought the combat to an end, 
 when suddenly the two men were dragged violently asunder, 
 
THE MASTER OF GKEENWAY COURT. 
 
 253 
 
 and tlie Wizard of the Massinutton interposed bis ta\l form 
 shuddering with strange emotion, between the adversaries- 
 The respective seconds of the combatants had rushed for- 
 ward, crying, " Gentlemen ! gentlemen ! this must cease ! no 
 poniard fight!" — but the towering resident of the Fort 
 Mountain had forestalled them. He had seen the party 
 when they entered the gorge, of the valley, and divining 
 their intention, hastened quickly toward them. He had 
 arrived in time, and now stood between the hot swords- 
 men, his form towering high above even that of the Earl — ■ 
 his face, generally so pale, flushed with tragic emotion. 
 
 The Earl gazed at him angrily, and raised his head 
 haughtily as their eyes encountered. 
 
 "Pray, what is the meaning of this interruption, sir ?" he 
 • said. "Are you aware that you peril your life by this pro- 
 ceeding !" 
 
 " Yes, my lord," said the wizard, still agitated in every 
 muscle of his tall, nervous frame by the singular tremor W8 
 have noticed. "Your weapon was within an ace of pene- 
 trating my breast; and Mr. Falconbridge also nearly struck 
 me. But that is little I" 
 
 " Your meaning, sir ! Stand back I" 
 
 " I will not ! You may kill me, if the act will be pro- 
 ductive of satisfaction to your lordship; but you shall not 
 even do that until you hear what I came to say to you." 
 
 There was something so resolute and gloomy in the voice 
 of the old man, and his eyes burned with such significance 
 beneath his bushy white brows, that the Earl unconsciously 
 dropped the point of his sword, and was silent. 
 
 "Your proceeding is extraordinary, very extraordinary, 
 sir," he replied, coldly, "but I respect your age, and 
 Bay no more. I only request that you will communicate to 
 me speedily what you design to inform me of — I know not 
 what rt is — then we will proceed !" 
 
 " It is necessary," returned the wizard, * that your lord* 
 ship should listen to it in private." 
 
254 
 
 FAIRFAX ; OR, 
 
 " Impossible, sir !" the Earl replied, impatiently shaking 
 his head: "I cannot, and will not leave this spot until thia 
 matter is terminated !" 
 
 " You must !" was the resolute answer. " Yes, my lord, 
 I tell you, and I know what I say — I tell you that you must 
 hear me speak, and privately. This combat shall not con- 
 tinue, if it becomes necessary for me to interpose my own 
 body between your swords." 
 
 "You speak in riddles, sir!" exclaimed the Earl; "stand 
 back !" 
 
 "Strike, then, gentlemen," replied the wizard, calmly 
 folding his arms, and not moving from the spot which he 
 occupied between the combatants; "if you wish to shed 
 blood, shed my own to commence with. I swear to you 
 that nothing shall move me but the death-blow!" 
 
 And he confronted the Earl with a majesty and determin- 
 ation in eye, lip, and bearing, which produced an effect even 
 on his angry opponent. 
 
 "Well, have your wish, sir !" said Lord Fairfax, frowning, 
 " wiih the permission of Captain "Wagner, I will retire for a 
 moment, to the distance of ten paces — is it permitted, sir ?" 
 
 "It is permitted, my lord," said the Captain. 
 
 "Well, let us make haste, sir," said the Earl: and sheath- 
 ing his sword, he followed hi3 companion, with quick steps. 
 They had proceeded about ten paces, and the wizard had 
 commenced speaking in a low, guarded tone, when the Earl 
 was observed to start violently. As he did so, his head 
 turned quickly, and he fixed upon Ealconbridge one of those 
 glances of lightning, whi<}h, on extraordinary occasions, 
 made his eyes resemble flaming brands. His face was 
 deadly pale, and the contracted lips revealed his white teeth 
 set like a vice together. He no longer opposed the will of 
 his companion, evidently — they walked a hundred yards, 
 talking in a low, agitated manner, and finally disappeared 
 behind a huge mass of rock, covered with moss and over" 
 greens, which rose on the declivity of the mountain. 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 255 
 
 The three gentlemen who Lad been left by themselves in 
 this unceremonious manner, waited patiently for a quarter 
 of an hour. Then they began to look curiously toward the 
 rocky screen. Another quarter of an hour passed slowly 
 away, and Colonel Carter, at the request of Captain Wag- 
 ner, had just gone to summon the Earl, when the two men 
 were seen returning. 
 
 An extraordinary change had taken place in the bearing 
 and appearance of Lord Fairfax. When he left the party, 
 he had carried his head proudly erect, his eyes were flash- 
 ing with anger, and the aroused thirst for blood — he had 
 resembled a warhorse, snuffing the odor of battle, and 
 champing at the hit which restrains him. Now, all this 
 had disappeared. His shoulders were drooping — his cheeks 
 were pale: his eyes, of late so fiery, were full of wistful 
 light; and he gazed upon his companions with an expression 
 of absent wonder which impressed them, with the most vivid 
 astonishment. Especially did they experience a sentiment 
 amounting to stupefaction, almost, when they saw the Earl 
 glance toward Falconbridge. In that glance there was no 
 longer any enmity, any anger — all had vanished. It was a 
 gaze almost tender in its character; and plainly an uncon- 
 scious one to the Earl. The young man wondered at it, but 
 replied only by a look haughtier than before, and calmly 
 tested the metal of his weapon by pressing the point upon 
 his boot. 
 
 Lord Fairfax soon recovered from his fit of absence, how- 
 ever, and by a great effort, summoned his habitual calm- 
 ness. 
 
 He approached Captain Wagner, and Falconbridge, and 
 bowing with grave courtesy, said : 
 
 " This affair cannot proceed, gentlemen, and the singular 
 circumstances accompanying the fact, is the entire silence 
 which I am compelled to observe at present upon the char- 
 acter of the considerations which render a further combat 
 impossible." 
 
256 
 
 FAIRFAX : OR, 
 
 Falconbridge flushed, and grasped his swoi-d in a menao 
 ing manner. 
 
 "I am aware/ 1 continued the Earl, in the same calm voice, 
 " that my words are enigmas, but I cannot prevent that. I 
 will make any apology, or follow any course which Mr. 
 Falconbridge may see fit to demand." 
 
 The seconds and Falconbridge greeted these words with 
 incredulous wonder; but the Earl did not seem to observe 
 it, and added : 
 
 " I propose, in all that relates to an affair in which Mr. 
 Falconbridge and myself hold the position of rival claim- 
 ants, to withdraw my pretensions, and retire from the field 
 — his interests shall no longer suffer from my presence — and 
 I am prepared to make him any apology which he requires, 
 for anything in which he may have thought himsell 
 wronged, by any act of my own." 
 
 The words were uttered as calmly and coldly as before, 
 in spite of a faint tinge which rose slowly to the cheek, and 
 having finished them, the Earl bowed low and was silent. 
 The seconds and Falconbridge had listened with an amaze 
 ment greater than before; but this expression in the eyes 
 of Wagner was succeeded by another of unmistakable 
 pleasure. As the Earl ended his address, he bowed low 
 and replied : 
 
 " As the Mend of Mr. Falconbridge, I accept your lord- 
 ship's proposal. We shall waive all further explanations or 
 discussions, resting content with the general disclaimer, and 
 offer which has been made. You will permit me, my lord, 
 to say on the part of Mr. Falconbridge, whom I represent, 
 that this proposition is no less characteristic of your lord- 
 ship's magnanimity, than of your fearless disregard of ap- 
 pearances. And so, gentlemen, the matter's at an end — the 
 fight's over — if it's not, I'm a crop-eared dandy!" 
 
 With this joyous outburst, the Captain twirled his mous- 
 tache violently, and picking up the coats of the combatants, 
 handed them to those gentlemen, with an air full of grace 
 
TH1 FASTER OF GREE1TWAY COURT. 25V 
 
 amd politeness. "With a clouded, and gloomy brow, Falcon- 
 bridge yielded to his representative, and the whole party 
 were soon again in the saddle, on their way back to the 
 Lowland. 
 
 The wizard was slowly retracing his steps up tk *a*hw- 
 
258 
 
 FAIRFAX; OR, 
 
 BOW FALCONBRIDGE BECOVERED HIS MOTHER* S BIRO. 
 
 N the day after the events which have just beea 
 narrated, Falconbridge set out from the Ordin 
 ary to visit Miss Argal for the last time. 
 We know the design of his visit. AJ] was 
 over — there was no longer any hope — the drama was played 
 ■ — he had fallen in the contest : but he must look upon her 
 face once more for a moment; he must recover the plain 
 gold ring which had belonged to his mother, and remained 
 in the possession of the young lady. 
 
 As he thus drew near to the secluded dwelling in which he 
 had spent so many happy hours, a painful and cruel shadow 
 swept across the broad brow of the young man. His shoul- 
 ders drooped; his lip quivered; and the heavy-looking eyes 
 were half veiled by the long lashes which almost reposed 
 upon the pallid cheeks. Falconbridge was passing through 
 that baptism of silent agony which sprinkles the hair 04 
 youth with gray. 
 
 As if to mock him, the face of nature was serene and be- 
 nignant. The chill winds had passed away — and that sea- 
 son which is called the " Indian Summer " had arrived. The 
 landscape was still, and bathed in imperceptible Hoods of 
 vapor — every outline was rounded, every angle had disap^ 
 peared — the soft mellow haze rested like a veil of gauze on 
 the distant mountains, the prairie and the forest. A dreamy 
 and mild influence seemed to pervade the whole scene, and 
 the genius of silence and repose was enthroned, where 
 lately the fresh breezes of October careered onward, rturi» 
 1 ing the dry leaves. 
 
TUE MASTEE OF GEEENWAY COUET. 
 
 259 
 
 But the young' man scarcely observed the change. His 
 own thoughts made the world in which he moved. An 
 irresistible sadness invaded, and took possession of him; and 
 he went along, unconscious of the landscape around him, 
 dead to all but his own sombre meditations. 
 
 "When Sir John stopped at the door, now so well known 
 and familiar, his master looked up with a vague, absent 
 wonder. Then slowly dismounting, he affixed his bridle to 
 a bough, and approached. 
 
 He knocked at the, door — no one answered. But hearing 
 the sound of voices in the apartment to the right, which 
 was used as a sitting-room, he turned the knob, and en- 
 tered. 
 
 The sight which greeted him sent the blood violently to 
 his heart, and an irresistible shudder ran through his frame. 
 He leaned against the frame-work of the door for support, 
 as though his limbs were about to fail him. 
 
 In the middle of the apartment Mr. Argal was holding, 
 with a vigorous grasp, both wrists of his daughter, and en- 
 deavoring to soothe her. It was the appearance of the 
 young lady, however, which made Falconbridge recoil, 
 shuddering. She was scarcely recognizable. Her dress 
 was in rude disorder — her black hair was hanging down on 
 her naked shoulders in tangled masses, and the fiery dark 
 eyes which burned beneath her knit brows, were filled with 
 an expression of rage and wildness which was terrible. The 
 small pearly teeth had bit the writhing Hp until the blood 
 tlowed — and in every muscle of her body, as in her face, the 
 visitor discerned an awful distortion. 
 
 It was evidently as much as Mr. Argal could do to hold 
 her. The nervous force which she displayed was wonder- 
 ful. The soft round arms seemed endowed with the strength 
 of a giant — and in spite of his most powerful exertions, the 
 writhing form almost escaped from her father's grasp. 
 
 " I tell you !" she cried hoarsely, and in a voice which ths 
 young man did not recognize as her own; " I tell you I saw 
 
260 
 
 FAIRFAX ; OR, 
 
 hini last night ! He was lying in liis blood I His ejei 
 called to me— I will go to him !" 
 
 "There, daughter, you are unwell," muttered the heavy- 
 hearted father, in a voice of deep anguish; " don't talk so, 
 and sit down." 
 
 " I will not ! I will go ! There, the eyes again I" 
 
 " It is your fancy, my poor child." 
 
 " My fancy ! It is false ! I tell you there he is looking 
 at me — there is blood on his bosom — blood for me to wipe 
 away !" 
 
 " My poor child " 
 
 "Let me go!" 
 
 The words were followed by a superhuman effort to dis- 
 engage herself; but the iron grasp was not relaxed. 
 
 " I loved him ! I never loved any one before i I loved 
 him with my whole heart — and he is dead 1 That man killed 
 him — he is gone 1" 
 
 " No, my child," murmured the poor father, who had ta- 
 ken no notice of the young man's entrance, " he is not dead 
 — there he stands." 
 
 "Yes, I see him — it is his spirit! He is coming like 
 Charles Austin to call me; Edmund! Edmund! I am com- 
 ing!" 
 
 And again the terrible struggle commenced. The sharp, 
 white teeth caught the crimson lip and gnawed it cruelly — 
 the round, supple form writhed violently in the grasp of 
 Mr. ArgaL The paroxysm was succeeded by an interval oi 
 comparative quiet, and the frame of the young lady exhibit- 
 ed evidences of exhaustion. A few more struggles ensued, 
 and then they ceased. Her features relaxed ; the burning 
 eyes filled with leaden langour ; the form drooped slowly, 
 and murmuring, "I loved him only!" the girl fainted in 
 the arms of her father. 
 
 Without speaking, he bore her to the sofa, and placed 
 her unresisting figure on the cushioned seat. In a moment 
 she revived, but it was only to burst into tears, and boo 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 261 
 
 hopelessly — she was plainly unconscious of any one's pres- 
 ence. Mr. Argal gazed at her for a few moments, with ar 
 expression of wretchedness, mixed with tenderness unut- 
 terable: then he turned and approached the young man. 
 
 " You are shocked at this terrible scene, I see plainlvj 
 sir/' he said in a low, collected voice; "and there is littl? 
 cause for wonder in the fact. Pray retire with me — I have 
 a few words to say to you." 
 
 As he spoke, Mr. Argal summoned a maid, who went 
 quietly to the side of her mistress with the air of one who 
 was quite familiar with such scenes, and then the two men 
 went out into the small porch. The youth walked in a 
 dream as it were — his mind was struggling — he could not 
 think connectedly. Mr. Argal placed his hand, by an uncon- 
 scious movement, upon his heart, and mastering his agita- 
 tion, said in a low voice, full of gloomy sorrow : 
 
 " Mr. Falconbridge, you have- become the depositary of a 
 terrible secret of my family. Do you understand what 
 you have just witnessed, sir ?" 
 
 " No," came from the white lips, in a tone almost inaudi- 
 ble, " I do not, sir." 
 
 "I will explain it. My daughter is mad." 
 
 The words sent a shudder through the frame of Falcon- 
 bridge, and his face turned paler than that of a corpse, but 
 he said nothing. 
 
 " The fit seized her to-day, sir," continued Mr. Argal, 
 suppressing a groan; "it was probably occasioned by the 
 affair between yourself and Lord Fairfax, which the servants 
 repeated." 
 
 The young man drew a long, deep breath, but was still 
 eilent. 
 
 " And now, sir," continued Mr. Argal, slowly recovering 
 his calmness, but speaking in a voice of heart-broken woe; 
 " and now, sir, I owe you a few words of explanation, if 
 only to vindicate my own character in this affair, from the 
 imputations which must otherwise rest upon me. I viJl be 
 
262 
 
 FAIRFAX, OR, 
 
 plain, I will conceal nothing — for I speak to a gentleman, 
 and a man of honor. I will keep back no particular. My 
 daughter has been subject to attacks of insanity, sir, from 
 her childhood. It was not a defect of her birth, but occa- 
 sioned by a dangerous fall from a fruit-tree, which inflicted 
 a deep wound upon her head, and affected the brain. Soon 
 after this incident, I observed the indications of men- 
 tal disease. Her character, which had before been as open 
 and ingenuous as the day, became secretive and subtile. 
 She would look sidewise and watch the persons with whom 
 she conversed, and store away in hidden places little objects 
 which she had taken. Then, as the years passed on, she 
 changed more and more — she became cruel and pitiless, she, 
 my own child ! who had been a very angel of goodness and 
 tenderness — whose heart would have bled at the suffering ol 
 the least insect — she grew hard and unpitying \ n 
 
 A low moan accompanied the words of the poor father; 
 he controlled his agony with difficulty, but resumed : 
 
 "The strange lustre you must have seen in my child's 
 eyes, sir, then appeared. They glittered with a morbid 
 light — an unnatural, insane light 1 It was the misfortune 
 of a poor youth to be attracted by their brightness — he 
 loved her, and when she dismissed him, at the moment 
 when one of her paroxysms was approaching, he put an 
 end to himself 1" 
 
 Again the speaker paused, and a woful contraction of the 
 lip showed the struggle which he had passed through be- 
 fore revealing these things. 
 
 " Well, to go on, sir. When she heard of the youth's 
 death, she was seized with a fit of madness. I passed 
 through a scene like that which you have witnessed to-day; 
 it made me twenty years older. But it ended: and my 
 child returned to herself again; to wring her hands and 
 weep, and exclaim that his death was caused by her act. 
 She wrote to the youth's brother and rival, a full history of 
 her mental aberration, and requested him to never approach 
 
fHE MASTTB OF GKEENWAY COURT. '263 
 
 hei again. So that terminated, and *oon afterward I re- 
 moved hither. I now come to the scenes connected with 
 yourself, sir; and T acknowledge in advance that I hav6 
 been guilty of a criminal weakness. I saw your attentions 
 to my daughter! and feared the result. But I could not 
 speak ! I should have done so, as a man of common hon- 
 esty — that is true, sir— but I could not ! Look at my face, 
 Mr. Falconbridge 1 See the vulture that is gnawing me ! I 
 have been false fco you — but I could not speak ! Oh, sir ! 
 may you never know what it is to feel this awful shame ! — 
 to be drawn one way by your honor, and another way bj 
 love for a poor insane child ! I could not reveal her awful 
 secret, degrade her in all eyes, make her name the laugh- 
 ing stock or the horror of every one ! I could not brand 
 my own child in your eyes with the stigma of madness! So 
 I paltered, sir, with my terrible responsibility. I said to 
 myself that you were only a youth, in the region for a short 
 t:me; that you would soon go, and our existence be forgot- 
 ten. My poor child denied any engagement between you — 
 I know not with what truth — I do not ask, sir. Then Lord 
 Fairfax appeared: she attracted his attention, and his ad- 
 miration. This very day I had intended to go and tell him 
 what I have told you, sir, if it killed me. That is all. I 
 have spoken, Mr. Falconbridge, with an effort, and laboring 
 under an agony of feeling which no words can describe ! It 
 is little to declare to you that my heart is broken — but that 
 is beside the question. I know not whether I should ever 
 have found courage to tell you all, if you had not chanced 
 to come when you did. But you know all now. I have 
 striven to show you that in concealing my child's condition I 
 did not act with deliberate dishonor, to entrap you. Before 
 my Maker, sir, I solemnly declare that I am guiltless at 
 least in this. I was weak, my heart was torn with fcVame 
 and anguish — I could not speak ! I should have fled from 
 the country with my daughter on the eve of her nuptials — 
 that to all 1" 
 
264 
 
 FAIRFAX ; OR, 
 
 "With heaving bosom and quivering lips, Mr. Argal vr&f 
 silent for some moments. Then he added : 
 
 "I have now told you everything, sir, and I feel less 
 shame than before. In a few weeks I go with my poor child 
 from this region — in some distant land we may bury out 
 shame and suffering. Without her, I should have no life- 
 she is dearer to me than all the world. Speak well of hor. 
 Mr. Falconbridge — she is weak, not sinful! — or if that is 
 impossible, say nothing ! God has heavily stricken her, 
 and her lot has been a terrible one — do not add to its dark- 
 ness by your enmity ov contempt ! After all, sir, however 
 much she may ha-?e wronged you, she is a woman, a mere 
 girl, and should excite your pity ! You heard her broken 
 words — in her madness — she loved you — I pray you, sir, to 
 forgive poor child and me." 
 
 The broken and agitated voice died away, and no sound 
 was hrard but the flutter of a single leaf, which parted from 
 bough of the oak above, and pattered down. The young 
 man remembered that sound afterwards, and shuddered at 
 it. To the struggling words of the sorrowful speaker he 
 made no immediate reply; his eyes were full of tears, his 
 lips refused their office. At last he mastered his emotion 
 »n a partial degree, and in a tone almost inaudible, said : 
 
 "Thanks for your confidence, Mr. Argal. I am so far 
 from blaming you for not revealing all before, that I honor 
 and respect your deep love and tenderness, and think I 
 would have acted as you did. You know me well enough 
 to believe me when I say that all this shall be locked up 
 forever in my breast. I need scarcely add that no word 
 against you or your daughter shall ever pass my lips. From 
 my heart, from my soul, from the depths of my soul, sir, I 
 pity and sympathize with you ! Your daughter is sacred to 
 me — it is as a child that I shall regard her — my heart is 
 broken like yours, but I blame no one. In the presence ol 
 that God, sir, who afflicted your childj I swear to guard hay 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 265 
 
 Aame from reproach or wrong. I have nothing to forgive 
 if I had, I should forgive her." 
 
 He held out his hand as he spoke, and a long pressure 
 was exchanged. As the two hands were thus clasped, a low 
 sob at the elbow of the young man made him start and 
 tremble. He turned and saw Miss Argal standing motion 
 less in the doorway, and holding toward him his mother's 
 ring. Her face was wet with tears — her eyes swam as she 
 gazed at him; she murmured, rather than said : 
 
 " This is your ring, sir — I have deceived you. Will you 
 forgive me ?" 
 
 The words were followed by a quiver of the bleeding lip, 
 and bursting into tears, the young lady placed her handker- 
 chief to her eyes, and went hastily to her chamber. 
 
 Falconbriclge stood looking after her, with the ring in his 
 hand, and never did the countenance of a human being ex- 
 press more unutterable anguish. He leaned against the 
 pillar of the portico for support, and uttered a groan of such 
 despairing wretchedness, that it seemed to tear its way from 
 the very depths of his being, and compress the woe of years 
 into a second. 
 
 Then, making a slight movement with his head toward 
 Mr. Argal, he slowly went and mounted his horse. The 
 bridle lay untouched upon the neck of the animal, and Fal- 
 conbridge did not speak to or direct him. 
 
 Sir John took the road at a gallop toward the Ordinary. 
 The rider seemed to be dreaming. His shoulders bent for- 
 ward; his chin rested on his breast; from time to time ho 
 passed his hand wearily across his forehead, and gazed ab- 
 sently around him. 
 
 Thp animal continued his headlong gallop. 
 
 Half a mile from the Ordinary, the young man reeled In 
 the saddle. Overcome by vertigo, he would have fallen the 
 next moment from his flying animal, when the bridle waa 
 suddenly seized, the horse thrown on his haunches, and the 
 arms of Captain Wagner caught the drooping form. 
 
266 
 
 FAIRFAX; OK, 
 
 " So it ends !" cried the gloomy and sneering voice Df the 
 soldier, " all is over V* 
 
 Two words replied to him, as Falconbridge fainted — twe 
 words, in an accent of unspeakable pity : 
 
 "Poor child 1" 
 
iHE MASTEIt OF GREE\NWA¥ COURT* 
 
 LL 
 
 THE APOLOGY. 
 
 >WO or three days have passed. It is a boautifui 
 morning of the "Indian Summer" as before. 
 The landscape of mountain and valley is repos- 
 ing beneath the mellow haze; and the air has 
 that dreamy and delightful softness which inclines the heart 
 to reverie. 
 
 In the large room of Groenway Court, Lord Fairfax ia 
 conversing with George an v i Cannie. The youth had 
 brought the girl behind him from the Fort on the preceding 
 evening — they had spent the night — and before setting out 
 to return, Cannie examined the objects around her, with 
 evident interest. 
 
 George was gazing at her with unconscious earnestness. 
 His affection for the girl had grown deeper and stronger. 
 As he came to know her better, the rare charms of her 
 mind and heart had enthralled him. Her goodness and 
 simplicity, and absence of all littleness, irresistibly attracted 
 his frank nature; and the unconscious refinement and grace 
 of the little maiden, riveted the influence which her char- 
 acter had exerted upon the boy. He thus gazed at her 
 with a fondness which was plainly uncontrollable, and the 
 Earl smiled with melancholy pleasure as he saw the youth's 
 secret. His countenance wore the old expression of sor- 
 rowful thought, but there was nothing cynical in it sow. 
 The grim look had disappeared, and though cheerfulness 
 was not there, still the face was more pleasant for the 
 change. He leaned back in his arm-chair, caressing with 
 one hand the solemn head of a huge deer-hound at his side 
 
FAIRFAX ; OR, 
 
 amd Ms gaze wandered absently but pleasantly from George 
 to Cannie. 
 
 "So, you like my house, Cannie?" lie said; "my old 
 hunting-lodge ?" 
 
 "Yes, sir — oh, yes, I mean my lord," returned the girl, 
 "I have been looking at the books and the pictures and all. 
 Fliey remind me of home." 
 
 •' Of home ? Do you remember your home ? Where was 
 that ?" 
 
 In the Low Country, sir. Bat I was born in England." 
 
 " And you do not remember England ?" 
 
 * Very slightly, sir. I look upon Virginia as my home, 
 and love it — because grandx^apa is with me. He is all I 
 have." 
 
 Tne eyes of George seemed to contradict this statement, 
 but he said nothing. Then a sigh from the Earl made him 
 turn his head, 
 
 " You are right, my child," said the old nobleman, gazing 
 at Cannie with wistful tenderness; "our real" home is the 
 land where the heart finds its rest. 'Tis a terrible disease, 
 what is called home-sickness, Cannie, and I've felt it, as 
 many others have done." 
 
 Th 3 quick look of sympathy in the eyes of the girl seemed 
 to touch the Earl, and he continued in the same tone of 
 melancholy softness: 
 
 " I was born and reared in England, and you see that I 
 am living now in another land. I long sometimes to look 
 apon the familiar old scenes, and pluck a daisy from the sod 
 of old England, my mother soil. I remember the same 
 feeling in a nobleman of my acquaintance who was exiled 
 by political troubles to France. His name was Henry St 
 John, a very brilliant person, whom you, G-eorge, have read 
 of, I am sure, and it may be Cannie, also, though he's long 
 dead, and she's very young. I had known him in London, 
 and spent many delightful hours with him — for his conver- 
 sation was wonderfully attractive. His favorite topic wai 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 2f>9 
 
 the superiority of a strong mind to misfortune — the strength 
 he possessed to bear up against obloquy and exile, sus- 
 tained by his own thoughts and his philosophy. Well, see 
 how it ended. I went to visit him in France, and a mor6 
 unhappy personage I nave rarely seen. All his philosophy 
 was gone — he had yielded. ' The burst of the cloud had gone 
 near to overwhelm him,' he said one day : and he looked 
 as he spoke toward the cliffs of England, as a child does to- 
 ward its mother. He never rested in his efforts to regain 
 his home — and sometimes I think I am his shadow in the 
 New World. I would return, and lay my bones in the soil 
 where my forefathers sleep." 
 
 The Earl was silent again, absently caressing the head of 
 the great deer-hound. 
 
 "All is the same, however, my dear," he added, in a 
 moment, "under the blue skies of home, or the stormj 
 clouds of distant countries, the one thing is to be honest 
 and true. One looks down on us who governs and directs 
 for the best — do you not feel that ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, sir — my lord," returned Cannie, to whose eyes 
 the sad tones of the old cavalier had brought tears, "indeed 
 I do, and that is enough to make us happy, I am sure ! In 
 the mountaians or the lowlands, He is still beside us. 
 Whether we are buried in the sands, or the ocean, it is still 
 the same — as Mr. Falconbridge said, you remember, 
 George." 
 
 "Mr. Falconbridge?" murmured the Earl; "do yuu 
 know him, then, Cannie ?" 
 
 "Oh yes, sir — he has been to see us, and I could not 
 help loving him. His face is so kind and true-looking — and 
 when he smiles I feel as if it was sunshine," 
 
 " That is true," said the Earl, with a bright light in his 
 eyes which made his face pleasant to behole 1 " M** Fal- 
 bridge is truly a gentleman." 
 
 " Oh, I'm sure he is. I loved him from the fbr*t ino»*>nt 
 I saw him.'* 
 
270 
 
 fAlUFAX; OR, 
 
 " He loved you as well," said a voico behind the speaker. 
 
 And Falconbridge, who had entered without attracting 
 attention, inclined his head to the company. In a moment 
 the girl, by an irresistible impulse, had risen to her feet, ana 
 caught in her own warm little hand, the thin hand of the 
 young man. Then she gazed into b?s eyes with a wistful 
 look, and said: 
 
 "You are very, very pale, sir." 
 Indeed the young man resembled a ghost rather than a 
 human being. All the laughing pride of the eye* and lip 
 had vanished; his cheeks had lost their bloom, and were fall- 
 ing away; an unspeakable sadness stamped his entire coun- 
 tenance and bearing; in a few days he seemed to have lived 
 twenty years. As he smiled now, and pressed the little 
 hand in his own, there was something so touching and pa- 
 thetic in his appearance, that Cannie could not restrain her 
 tears. 
 
 " There, there, don't cry, my dear," said Falconbridge; 
 "you distress me. The change in my appearance moves 
 you, I suppose — but 'tis nothing. I have been somewhat 
 unwell, but am better. I trust your lordship is well." 
 
 And the speaker inclined low, with stately courtesy, before 
 the Earl. 
 
 " Thanks — yes, sir — very well," replied Lord Fairfax, who 
 had scarcely moved, and still regarded his visitor with evi- 
 dent agitation. But there was nothing hostile in his emo- 
 tion. On the contrary a strange earnestness and softness 
 characterized his bearing, as he pointed to a seat, and 
 bowed low to his guest. 
 
 " Many thanks, my lord," returned Falconbridge, " but 
 my visit must be brief. In three days I shall leave this re- 
 gion, and I come to make an explanation to your lord- 
 ship." 
 
 The Earl, still singularly agitated, glanced uneasily at 
 George and Cannie. The two young persons roso wHk 
 
THE MASTER OF dREENWAY JOURT. 
 
 271 
 
 quick courtesy, and would have retired, but Faloonbridge 
 arrested them by a movement of bis band. 
 
 "No, do not retire," be said; "my explanation is not 
 a private one — and I bave entire confidence in you both, 
 George and Cannie. Pray remain, tben — and now, my 
 lord, for my business. I have come hither to say, like an 
 honest gentleman, that I have wronged you, and to beg 
 you to pardon me. I will imitate the reserve of your lord- 
 ship on the mountain yonder, and add in general terma 
 what I mean. I accused you, in my heart, and to your face, 
 in the forest there, of an unworthy and dishonorable action. 
 I insulted and outraged you, and forced you to meet me in 
 single combat. I am truly glad at the issue of that busi- 
 ness, for I wronged you, not intentionally, but no less 
 really. Since that time, I have discovered my error, and 
 your innocence. I have been ill, and had time to reflect. 
 I have risen from my sick couch to come and say to your 
 lordship, that I am sorry for my words and for my actions 
 — to declare my conviction of your irreproachable honor — 
 and to entreat your pardon and forgiveness." 
 
 With these words Falconbridge bowed low again, and was 
 silent. 
 
 " I have nothing to forgive, sir," replied the Earl, almost 
 eagerly; "I should rather sue to you — for I have wounded 
 you, I fear, deeply. On my honor, sir, the act was not ma- 
 licious — I pray you to forget all, and receive my hand." 
 
 There was something earnest and noble in the voice of 
 the Earl as he thus spoke, and a slight color came to the 
 cheek of the young man. He took the proffered hand, and 
 the eyes of the strange rivals met in one long look of deep 
 meaning. 
 
 "I shall now beg your lordship's permission to retire," 
 said Falconbridge. " I am not well, and the ride hither has 
 fatigued me. As I have declared, in three days I leave thia 
 •ountry. This will be my farewell to your lordship." 
 
 Then turning to George and Cannie, he held out his 
 
272 
 
 FAIRFAX ; OR, 
 
 hand, with the melancholy smile T^hich had excited the 
 child's tears. She cried again as she took it, and George 
 bit his hp to conceal his emotion. 
 
 "I am glad to have seen your kind face again," he said to 
 Cannie; and yours, George, though I trust you'll come to 
 see me before I go. And now, good-bye. I salute your 
 lordship, and bid you farewell." 
 
 In spite of the EaiTs hospitable invitations to remain, 
 which were uttered with great earnestness, the young man 
 then departed; and soon afterwards George and Cannie set 
 out on their return to the mountain. 
 
 "In three days!" murmured the Earl, — "then he goes 
 in three days ! But he shall not ! — no, he shall not ! How 
 noble he is, and how pale! Poor boy, my heart ached 
 when he smiled as he did. In three days '? We shall 
 see !" 
 
 As the Earl spot? thus, Captain Wagner hastily entered 
 the apartment 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 278 
 
 LIL 
 
 THE COURIER 
 
 HE appearance of the Borderer indicated news ol 
 
 importance. 
 " What has occurred ?" said the Earl. 
 " The rascals are coming !" returned Wagner, 
 throwing his hat on the table. <c At least they are on the 
 way, my lord — the Injuns!" 
 
 " Ah ! What of them ? What news of them ?" 
 " A plentjr, and too much. A courier is following me, 
 and he'll soon relate all to your lordship. Well, I think 
 we'll have stirring times at last. We'll eat 'em, or be eat by 
 'em, or I'm a dandy!" 
 
 As the Borderer spoke, the sound of a horse's hoofs was 
 heard, and in a few minutes a roughly-clad settler from the 
 frontier entered, and bowed low to the Earl. His tidings 
 were soon imparted. The Indians had crossed the Al- 
 leghanies two days before, in large numbers, and had laid 
 waste the entire South Branch manor, killing women and 
 children, and even attacking Eort Pleasant and Edwards' 
 Fort, on Gacaphon. In all directions, homes were blazing, 
 fields on fire, the dead bodies of the settlers and their fami- 
 lies were stretched across a hundred thresholds, along the 
 line of march of the savages. The incursion had been so 
 sudden that no preparation, on the part of the borderers, 
 had opposed it; and the whole region west of the town oi 
 Winchester was helpless at the feet of the advancing enemy. 
 Such was the information of the courier, who gaTe his ac- 
 count with long-drawn breaths, as one laboring under 
 great exhaustion. In fact he had ridden night and day, aud 
 
274 
 
 FAIRFAX; OR, 
 
 was worn out. Old John speedily took charge of him, is 
 obedience to the direction of his master, and the Captain 
 and Lord Fairfax were left ^lcne together. 
 
 " Well," said the Earl, his swarthy face glowing; " well, 
 Captain, there seems every probability of your prediction 
 being verified. We'll have fighting, and that speedily 
 What are the defences of the region immediately west 
 of Winchester ?" 
 
 "Few or none," returned the soldier, knitting his brow 
 and reflecting: "there's Pugh's, and Enoch's and Parker's 
 Forts, with Edwards', the strongest. Further west, toward 
 Fort Cumberland, are Pearsall's and Sellar's, and Fort 
 Pleasant, which is well fortified. But these are passed- 
 Its dooms unlucky, my lord — but these worthies seem to 
 have heard nothing of the inroad until it was on 'em, and 
 the very devil will be to pay, or I'm a dandy J WTiere's the 
 map ? I know the region by heart, but may forget some 
 places ?" 
 
 The Earl drew it out of the drawer, and they were soon 
 poring over it. The result was discouraging. The forts 
 mentioned by the Captain were all regularly laid down, but 
 no others. 
 
 " There are plenty of cabins," said the Borderer, frowning 
 thoughtfully; "but they are shells that the first blow will 
 smash. What remains? I tell your lordship I have never 
 been taken more aback. Messengers must, however, be 
 sent immediately throughout the river counties. Ill as- 
 semble the hunters and settlers around here myself, and 
 then let the bloody scoundrels look out. I have said I'd 
 eat their carcasses, and I'll do it, or my name's not Wag- 
 ner r 
 
 A quick discussion of the details then took place, and the 
 plan of operations was agreed upon. In two hours couriers 
 were departing in all directions, and Captain Wagner him- 
 self was scouring the country, to assemble the settlers in tba 
 immediate vicinity. 
 
THE MASTER W GREENWAI COUBT. 
 
 275 
 
 On iho next evening a messenger arrived with the intelli- 
 gence that the band of Indians had gone in an opposite li* 
 reetion, toward the Potomac, plundering and burning on 
 their march. 
 
 " I'll go after 'em," said the Captain, who had returned 
 from his long ride; "the boys will assemble at Winchestei 
 to-morrow, and I'll take command, as your lordship ha& 
 
 directed." 
 
 " Such is my wish, Captain," returned the Earl, " and thus 
 we may take breath for a moment." 
 
 " And I'll take some Jamaica, with your permission, my 
 lord, or zounds ! without your permission, for I'm broke 
 down ! I've been in the saddle till I feel as if I grew there, 
 I'm bow-legged, or the devil take it!" 
 
 Having swallowed his Jamaica, the Captain became more 
 tranquil, and listened in silence to tho Earl. 
 
 "And now for a private matter of my own," said the 
 Earl. " Where is Mr. Falconbridge, Captain?" 
 
 "At the Ordinary, my lord." 
 
 "Does he return to the Lowland?"" 
 
 " He ! return to the Lowland ! Who ? Falconbridge ? 
 You don't know him, my lord. He's a good heart of oak, 
 and you ought to have see his face when he heard of the 
 killing of the women and children ! It was a glorious face, 
 or I'm a dandy ! The very devil in his eyes. You don't 
 know that man as I know him. He is one of the kindest 
 and softest-hearted fellows in the world, but I'd rather go 
 through fire than arouse him ! He go to the Lowland, with 
 those women and children kicking and squalling over there, 
 as the bloody scoundrels slit their windpipes? I fancy it I 
 No ! He'll be duly in the ranks to-morrow, and I wouldn't 
 give a sixpence for the red devil that meets him !" 
 
 " Good, good I" said the Earl, with glowing cheeks, 
 " That is like him, Captain. I knew it — I was sure of itj 
 krat he is weak, you know— he has been sick." 
 
276 
 
 FAIRFAX; OR, 
 
 Ajid a strange pathos was discernible in the tones of th« 
 Earl. 
 
 " Sick or well, he is with us," returned the Captain. 
 " Your lordship seems really interested in him." 
 " I have reason to be." 
 " How so r 
 
 The Earl did not immediately reply. He mused and hes- 
 itated. Then suddenly his irresolution disappeared, and 
 turning to the soldier, he said : 
 
 " Captain, did you not think the scene on the Fort Moun- 
 tain, on the day of our duel, a very strange one ?" 
 
 "A perfect puzzle! — a mystery! I've been racking my 
 brain to understand it ever since." 
 
 "Well, I'll tell you what it meant," replied the Earl, "if 
 you will make me two promises." 
 
 " Two promises, my lord?" 
 
 "Very simple ones. The first is to guard sacredly what I 
 tell you, and the other is to go this evening, in spite of your 
 fatigue, and bring Falconbridge hither to sleep. I must 
 see him." 
 
 "I promise both, my lord — and you know me. "When a 
 thing is told to me, I put it under lock and key, and the 
 rack couldn't get me to tell it. I don't talk in my sleep, 
 and I've carried this hatred of the practice of gossiping so 
 far that I've often forgot things on purpose. I knew a man 
 once who always, when he got a letter headed ' burn this,' 
 lit one corner of it to read by. He read the last line as the 
 flame burnt his fingers, That's my habit. I don't repeat — 
 I forget," 
 
 The Earl nodded, well satisfied, and said: 
 
 " I can trust you, Captain "Wagner. I give you a mark of 
 this entire confidence now. I wish you to watch over and 
 guard the person whom you know as Ealconbridge, and to 
 explain this request, I am about to give you a brief hi*" 
 tory. Are we wholly alone?" 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY OOUBT. 
 
 277 
 
 The Captain rose and examined the doors and windows 
 then returned to his seat. 
 
 " Completely, my lord; and now I listen. ' The person 1 
 know as Falconbridge ?' Hum !" 
 
 The Earl looked into the fire for some moments, with 
 thuightful gravity; then fixing his melancholy eyes upon 
 tho Borderer, commenced the narrative which he had 
 
278 
 
 FAIRFAX ; OB* 
 
 TiTTT. 
 
 THE BALL IN THE RIGHT SHOULDER 
 
 APTAIN," said the Earl, with that look of deep 
 sadness which made his countenance at times so 
 touching, "my life has been more or less un- 
 happy from its commencement, but I think I 
 have suffered, within the last month — nay, within a few 
 days — as much as, or more, than in many years before. I 
 have learned what is one of the most sorrowful things in all 
 this world — that much happiness has been wrongfully denied 
 me by one of my fellow-creatures — that I have sighed where 
 I might have smiled — that the heaven above me has been 
 obscured and gloomy, when the simple act of a simple mor- 
 tal might have dissipated every cloud, and made the sun 
 shine brightly for me. 
 
 " But to drop these generalities and come to my narra- 
 tive. It will not be long, but shall contain the truth and 
 the whole truth. Men at my age do not make intimate 
 confidences for the pleasure of talking — and yet I experi- 
 ence something like pleasure, sir, in the thought that I am 
 about to unburden my mind of scane events and thoughts 
 which have long oppressed it. I do not conceal, neverthe- 
 less, that I have my own personal object in this matter ; I 
 repeat what I said but now, that I wish you to watch over 
 the person whom you know by the name of Falconbridge— 
 with him is connected all that I shall say. 
 
 "Listen, sir. I was born at the end of the last century, 
 at my father's house of ' Denton/ in Yorkshire, and grew up 
 in sight of the patrimonial oaks of my family — in the famil- 
 iar, rustle scenes of English life. My father, Thomas, Lord 
 
THE MASTEB OF GBEENWAY COURT. 
 
 279 
 
 Fairfax, the fifth of the name, was a cold, but not an unkind 
 man; my mother, Catherine, daughter of Lord Culpeper, 
 was a very saint on earth. Under the tuition of these be- 
 loved parents, and a worthy old gentleman who lived at 
 Denton, I grew to the age of seventeen; when I was sent to 
 the University of Oxford. There, I passed through the 
 ordinary routine of study, and neglect of study, and on 
 leaving the University, obtained a commission in the royal 
 regiment of the 'Blues/ This, however, did not hold me 
 long. I resigned my commission from distaste for the life of 
 barracks, and plunged into the whirlpool of London. 
 My rank gave me access to the finest society of the time, 
 and at nineteen I had become, my friends informed me, one 
 of the most perfect specimens of a maccaroni to be found in 
 the club-houses and drawing-rooms of the capital. I en- 
 joyed this dissipated mode of life for some months, mingling 
 with delight in the political and literary circles which were 
 ornamented by the presence of Bolingbroke, Addison, and 
 other lights of the day; and then, wearied out with play, 
 with the theatres, with fine ladies, and simpering beaux, I 
 retired to Denton, and became a country gentleman again. 
 
 " And now commences the series of events which I design 
 relating. My life hitherto had been gay and splendid — no 
 cloud had crossed the bright sky of my youth ; in the bril- 
 liant circles of London, as in the jovial scenes of Oxford, I 
 had basked in uninterrupted sunshine, and never given a 
 single thought to care; never indulged in one violent or 
 discordant emotion. I was ere long to learn that human 
 life cannot glide away in one unbroken current of limpid 
 smoothness; that there are breakers and reefs on the most 
 smiling coast, which the most experienced pilot cannot al- 
 ways avoid. I was no such experienced person, I need not 
 tell you. To great ignorance of the world, in spite of my 
 years & London, I added an excitable and headstrong temper 
 when Abused: and this defect of my blood was not long in 
 revealing Wl I bed ©ever quarrelled with anybody «l 
 
280 
 
 FAIRFAX; OR, 
 
 Oxford or in London: in both places I had lived among 
 scenes which are often disturbed by evil passions; but 1 
 passed through intact. I had gone to the tfesatres, and 
 supped with wits and gallants, played tric-trac, and wan- 
 dered forth with the Mohocks at three in the morning, on 
 their revels and absurdities, perpetrated at the expense <1 
 the watchmen of the city; all this I passed through withoul 
 once drawing my sword, without a single affair; how was I 
 to have an affair, in the apparently sluggish scene of York- 
 shire. 
 
 " There was a gentleman of the neighborhood about forty 
 years of age, whose name was Sir William Powys. He had 
 once possessed a very fine estate, but owing to his want of 
 management, and the extravagant mode of living which he 
 pursued, this great property had gradually melted away. 
 It was covered with mortgages, by means of which Sir Wil- 
 liam had, from time to time, raised large sums of money to 
 sustain him in his mode of living — and among the holders 
 of these mortgages was my father. He was neither by habit 
 nor inclination a money-lender, and long resisted the request 
 of Sir William, to advance him a large sum of money which 
 had gradually been saved from the proceeds of the Denton 
 Estate. At last, however, he yielded to the solicitations of 
 the knight, and delivered to him the sum, taking a mortgage 
 on the bulk of the Powys Court manor. This had happened 
 a year or two before my arrival — and just before I came, my 
 father had foreclosed the mortgage, and forced Sir William 
 to alienate almost his whole property. I know not if this 
 action of my father was harsh. From my knowledge of his 
 character, as from the general tenor of his life, I am con- 
 vinced that he proceeded to this apparently unkind act, in 
 the purest defence of the interests of his family. My sister, 
 since dead, was about to be married, and a settlement was 
 absolutely required on the part of the Fairfax family. Sir 
 William could not, or would not, repay the money borrowed 
 —and as I have said, the mortgage waa foreclosed Ha 
 
THE MASTER OP GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 281 
 
 parted with, his property without any overt act of enmity ; 
 but it was soon whispered throughout the shire, that the 
 knight denounced my father at his own table and elsewhere 
 as a usurer, a Shylock, a Jew money-lender, and in othei 
 terms equally insulting. 
 
 "I need scarcely say, sir, that this intelligence set my 
 blood on fire. My father was then a gray- haired man, full 
 of years ; and I knew that he was physically unable to right 
 himself. A long, well-spent life, it is true, gave the lie to 
 these base insinuations and calumnies ; but in our famih 
 we are restive under insult, no matter whether it injures or 
 not. I saw my father's face flush more than once, when 
 these expressions were unguardedly alluded to in his pres- 
 ence — and I longed for an opportunity to revenge upon the 
 calumniator the wrong which he had perpetrated toward 
 Lord Fairfax, I was determined to seek him, and pick a 
 quarrel upon some indifferent ground: and then — I said 
 with clenched teeth — I will put an end to him, or he shall 
 put an end to me.' An opportunity of carrying out my de- 
 sign soon presented itself. In the vicinity of Denton, and 
 not far from Powys Court, was the race-course of the county. ' 
 Here, upon a certain day, were assembled all the gentlemen 
 and ladies of the region around. I repaired to the race- 
 course early, but not with any design of betting. I sought 
 Sir William Powys, who would attend I heard — and I was 
 soon gratified, I descried his tall form approaching UT3orr 
 horseback, in the midst of a number of his friends; and I 
 
 7 
 
 even now recall his athletic and powerful figure, which in 
 bulk of muscle, pride of carriage, and its haughty air of su- 
 periority, threw into the background every personage about 
 him. He dismounted and gave his bridle to a groom. 
 Then, accompanied by his friends, he approached the open 
 space beneath the balcony, which was filled with ladies and 
 gentlemen, intent on the coming festivity. The horses, in 
 their sweat-cloths, were being led up and down; a hundred 
 oommente were made by the crowd who inspected tlitta. 
 
232 
 
 FAIRFAX ; OR, 
 
 and bets were every moment offered and taken by ihe gen- 
 tlemen on the various racers which had been entered. 
 
 " I approached the group, in the midst of which Sir Wil- 
 liam was standing and expatiating upon the merits of the 
 horses. As I drew near I heard him say; 
 
 " ' Three to one on the bay — in tens or hundreds.' 
 
 " ' Done, Sir "William/ responded the gentleman to ^W* 
 he spoke, and who was an acquaintance of mine. His name 
 was Sir John Colbum. 
 
 ''■ 1 1 congratulate you, Sir John/ I said, laughing; * the 
 bay's a miserable hack, and w#l probably be distanced the 
 first heat.' 
 
 " I saw Sir "William Powys turn as if an adder had stung 
 him. He was proud of his knowledge of horse-flesh; indeed, 
 it was one of his weak points — and to have his judgment 
 thus sneered at, and by a mere boy, such as I happened to 
 be, enraged him profoiindly. His eye flashed, and he sur- 
 veyed me from head to foot with a glance which was in- 
 tended to annihilate me. It failed, however. I have a fac- 
 ulty of my blood in a very marked degree — I grow cooler as 
 I become more exasperated. I hated Sir "William at that 
 moment, mortally — and I replied to his insulting look by a 
 satirical smile. This heated him more dangerously — I saw 
 his cheek turn crimson with anger. 
 
 "'And who are you, sir!' he said, in a tone o\ excessive 
 rudeness, ' who are you, that presume to put your opinion 
 Against mine T 
 
 " 'I thought you knew me, sir/ I said, with perfect cool- 
 ness, ' as I remember meeting you some years since. But 
 no matter. My name is not important — and I presume, in 
 spite of your extreme dissatisfaction, to say that in my 
 humble opinion the bay is the poorest and most ludicrous 
 horse entered ; it is hard to look at him without laugh- 
 ing in fact — and no one but a tyro would bet on him.' 
 
 " 'What do you mean, sir V said Sir William, turning white 
 with rage at my tone of disdainful indifference, and advano- 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 288 
 
 ing close to me as lie spoke, ' your meaning, sir ! — if it is an 
 insult you intend uttering, this horse-whip shall teach 
 you— !' 
 
 " In an instant we had grappled. I had designed nothing 
 of the sort; but the sight of the degrading instrument 
 raised above my head, aroused the devil in me, and made 
 me wild. I caught at it, fully intending to wrench it away, 
 and apply it to his own person — and in a moment we were 
 locked in a furious embrace. We were parted immediately 
 by the bystanders, who rushed to us with loud exclamations 
 — and a glance at the balcony above showed me that a young 
 lady had fainted, and was being borne out. 
 
 " ' "Who — is — this person?' panted Sir William, with power- 
 less fury ; 'had my right arm been unm aimed I would have 
 punished Las insolence!' And he glared at me wildly, and 
 would have tried to strike me again, had not his friends re- 
 strained him and told him my name. 
 
 "'Tom Fairfax! Tom Fairfax!' he muttered, with 
 clenched teeth ; ' very well ! this may be arranged elsewhere ! 
 Ah 1 a Fairfax, is it ?' 
 
 " ' Yes, sir,' I replied scornfully, ' my name is Fairfax, al- 
 most or quite as good a name as your own, and you shall 
 not have to wait very long for the " arrangement " you de- 
 sire r 
 
 " With these words we exchanged ceremonious bows, and 
 separated — Sir John Colburn accompanying me. , In three 
 hours all was ' arranged ' as I had promised. We were to 
 meet with pistols, at a spot near the race-course, which had 
 been agreed on. The objection to the use of short-swords 
 lay in the condition of Sir William's right arm — he had been 
 kicked a short time before by one of his horses, and some- 
 what disabled. He insisted very generously and fearlessly 
 upon swords, but his second overruled him, and pistols were 
 decided upon. 
 
 " Well, not to lengthen my narrative unduly — we met : at 
 &*a first fire my ball penetrated his right shoulder, and so 
 
284 
 
 FAIRFAX ; OR, 
 
 great was the agony which it caused him, that he fell, and 
 fainted from loss of blood. His ball did not touch me 
 The duel ended thus, and Sir William was borne home in 
 his carriage. It was his daughter who had fainted in the 
 balcony. 
 
 a So terminated," continued the Earl, "an affair which 
 was recalled to my recollection in a very strange manner 
 some time since — in the Ordinary yonder. But to resume. 
 I returned home only half pleased with the issue. Such is 
 the depravity of the human heart, and to such a height had 
 I been aroused by the wrong done my father, that — I am 
 sorry to say it, but I must be candid — I thirsted for my en- 
 emy's blood. For the present, however, this desire was 
 doomed to disappointment. I reflected — but on the very 
 next day a new means presented itself. Sir William's fam- 
 ily consisted of a son and a daughter — Edith and Arthur, 
 who were twins : — well, Arthur, on the morning after my 
 duel with his father, sent me a challenge, which I accepted 
 at once. He was a few months younger than myself, but 
 was reputed to be an excellent swordsman. I refeiTed his 
 friend to Sir John Colburn, and everything was soon agreed 
 upon — but the matter was all at once arrested. My father 
 had remonstrated with me strongly for my affair with Sir 
 William, and begged me to avoid in future any occasion of 
 renewing the quarrel. If I insisted upon fighting he would 
 meet Sir William himself. He soon found out my design of 
 meeting Arthur Powys, and rode hastily to Powys Court 
 There had never been any open quarrel between the two — 
 and their meeting, I afterwards heard, was amicable. The 
 consequence of the visit was, that the elders forbade the 
 juniors, on pain of their displeasure and forfeit of affection, 
 to proceed in the matter. In the end, both Arthur and my- 
 self were summoned to the side of the sick man — and Sir 
 William very nobly apologized for his insult to me on the 
 race-course. 
 
 "'Had I known you, sir,' he said, 'I should never hay* 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COL BT. 
 
 285 
 
 been guilty of the act of raising a horse-whip to strike you 
 — that, I need not say. I saw no indication of your rank 
 or family — and now beg to say to you, that I deeply regret 
 the whole occurrence, as I regret some very inconsiderate 
 and ill-advised expressions which I doubt not, really led 
 you to provoke me into a quarrel. There must be no more 
 contention, Viscount, and if you refuse me this request, 1 
 shall rise from my sick couch and meet you when you wlJ 
 — if you require me, this moment.' 
 
 " This speech ended all. The apology for the hasty reflec- 
 tions upon my father calmed me somewhat, and the matter 
 terminated by the withdrawal of Arthur's challenge. 
 
 " Ten days afterwards I was out fox-hunting with a num- 
 ber of gentlemen, among whom was Arthur Powys. We 
 were separated from the rest, and rode side by side at a 
 great pace. We came to a bad fence — Arthur's horse rolled 
 ; into a ditch, and he fell beneath. I drew up quickly, and 
 dismounted. His leg was cruelly fractured, and taking him 
 in my arms like a child, I held him on the saddle, and 
 slowly conveyed him to Powys Court. As I entered the last 
 gateway, the insensible figure resting upon my bosom, the 
 pale face near my own, I saw a young lady rush out, wild 
 with terror, and hasten toward me, weeping. It was Edith 
 Powys, who received from my arms the unconscious form 
 of her brother. 
 
 " Our hands touched: it was the first time. 
 
230 
 
 FAIRFAX : OB. 
 
 CHAPTER LHL 
 
 THE ORIGINALS OP THE PORTRAIT. 
 
 ITH this incident," the Earl grave. y onfcinnac^ 
 " commenced my new life. From that moment, 
 when she came crying to take the young man 
 upon her bosom, I loved Edith Powys with all 
 the ardor of youth and romance. I do not scoff at it, or 
 laugh, as some persons I think do ; love to me, sir, has been 
 a blessed reality, and solace — the supreme comfort and 
 charm of my existence. I have known many sneer at wo- 
 men, and at the passion of pure love — for myself I regard it 
 with a sacred wonder, and kneel almost humbly before a 
 true-hearted girl, be she the peasant maid or queen on her 
 throne. Oh no, sir ! women are capricious — they are fanci- 
 ful — they have many great weaknesses — but at the bottom 
 of all the folly which appears in many of them, there is 
 purest gold ! 
 
 " "Well I loved Edith Powys — she is with me still, though 
 long years have fled over me, and dulled my heart, since 
 the day when I buried her beneath the spring violets at 
 Denton. It was the decree of an All-merciful being that 
 she should love me too — in spite of all her prepossessions 
 against me. She often told me afterwards that her senti- 
 ment toward me, on the day when I grappled with her 
 father in front of the balcony on the race-course, was pure 
 hatred — and that she had registered a vow never to have 
 any other for me. But the sight of her brother bleeding 
 in my arms — pressed to my heart — this touched her and 
 paved the way for the entrance of less bitter feelings; and 
 then love came to answer the love I felt for her 
 
THE MASTER OF GBEENWAY COURT. 
 
 287 
 
 "Powys Court was no longer closed against me now. 
 Thanks to the incident which I have related, entrance was 
 freely accorded me. I had really conceived a strong friend- 
 ship for Arthur — first from the fact that we never afterward 
 look indifferently upon a person whom we have been kind 
 to— whose weak form we have carried in our arms — and 
 secondly, from another and equally natural circumstance. 
 The brother and sister were not only twins — they were the 
 most extraordinary copies of each other. Both had delicate 
 features — the same clear, frank eyes — the same 1 hps full of 
 laughing pride — the same soft brown hair. Had Edith as- 
 sumed the costume of her brother, you would have said, 
 that a miniature Arthur Powys stood before you. Had the 
 brother donned a female dress, Edith, larger it is true, and 
 more masculine, but still Edith, would have looked at you 
 with the smile of her brother. 
 
 " I have a portrait of the young man, painted some years 
 after these events — 'tis up stairs over the fireplace of one of 
 the bed-chambers. I scarce dare to look at it when melan- 
 choly oppresses me — for the resemblance to Edith Powys 
 sends a thrill of bitter anguish through my heart, and I re- 
 call all the past, as I gaze ! To continue: I say that this 
 singular resemblance between the young man and the young 
 lady, insensibly drew me to his side. In his company I was 
 almost enjoying the society of his sister. I availed myself 
 of the incident which had bound us together, and wenl 
 regularly to mk after his health. He soon improved. The 
 fracture was painful, but yielded to the treatment of the 
 physicians, and he was soon limping about the house again 
 •—leaning on my shoulder or his sister's, and smiling as be- 
 fore. He was a noble youth — one of the truest hearts I've 
 ever known. He soon came to look upon me with affection 
 and confidence, and the feud between the houses of Fairfax 
 and Powys seemed destined to terminate with the elders. 
 
 "But I had calculated without my host. Sir William 
 Powys was one of those men who never forgive. He might 
 
288 
 
 FAIRFAX; OR, 
 
 waive his enmity, for the occasion, and even utter words cf 
 courtesy and good humor — but beneath all this was the im- 
 placable memory — the rooted and ineradicable recollection 
 of his real or fancied wrong. It thus happened that the 
 keen-eyed knight watched the growing intimacy between 
 myself and his daughter with ill-disguised disapprobation 
 and opposition. He was too well bred to refuse her hand 
 before I had asked it; and evidently writhed with secret 
 anger at the past. As my object in visiting Powys Court 
 became plainer and plainer, and the artless affection of the 
 young lady was less disguised, the Knight's dissatisfaction 
 grew more intense. I saw it, and ground my teeth as I 
 thought of it, often — but that was all. In the depths of my 
 heart I think I really respected him more for it — for his loy- 
 alty to the family feud and the dislike he exhibited and 
 plainly experienced, to a match between his daughter and a 
 person, his social superior. He was only a baronet, and his 
 possessions were reduced to nothing nearly — but he never- 
 theless opposed bitterly the union of his child with one who 
 would soon be Earl of Fairfax and Baron of Cameron, with 
 ample means of keeping up both titles. Indeed there was 
 nothing small or mean about Sir William Powys. If he 
 ever committed an action which seemed to indicate those 
 qualities, you had only to search deeper, and a more noble 
 passion would reveal itself. The craving for vengeance 
 might induce him to act basely — but mere paltry love of 
 gain never could. 
 
 " Thus, to return, I was obliged still to respect the knight, 
 in spite of my bitter feelings at his manifest opposition. I 
 tried to soften h im — it was all in vain. Edith and Arthur 
 became my advocates, and would sound my praises. The 
 baronet only sneered, and asked if both of them were in 
 love with me. Thus things went on until I could no longer 
 control myself. I went to Sir William one day — confessed 
 my affection for his daughter — and requested his permiseioa 
 to pay my addresses. 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 289 
 
 u ' My permission sir !' he said, with a bitter laugh, 1 why 
 truly you are a very entertaining person.' 
 " ' Sir "William !' I exclaimed. 
 
 " 'Oh! don't let us argue,' he replied, 'I'm not such a 
 dunce, sir, as not to see beyond my nose. I have observed 
 what has taken place in my house for some months past, and 
 I therefore say that your addresses have been paid without 
 ceremony, and without my leave, sir ! You will judge your- 
 self if the act was not dishonorable !' 
 
 " His face began to flush — and my own as darkly. 
 
 " ' Sir William,' I said, t you have wronged and insulted 
 jae ! It is not becoming to do so, when I hold the position 
 toward you which I do. And permit me to say, sir, that 1 
 have done nothing unworthy of the name I bear — of the 
 name of Fairfax, which is as old and as honor ablo as that 
 of Powys ! 
 
 " His reply was a burst of rage. The comparison of the 
 two names seemed to arouse all his old enmity. He gnashed 
 his teeth, and seemed about to offer me some outrage. 
 
 " I had dared to come into his house, he said, and wile away 
 the heart of his daughter — and his son. Under the mask of 
 friendship I had beguiled her affections, and now came im- 
 pudently to ask permission to pay my addresses. No! I 
 should not have his consent! I should never marry his 
 daughter ! No person who bore the detested name of Fair- 
 fax should wed with one of the family of Powys ! He had 
 intended to express to his daughter plainly, his feelings on 
 the subject long before — but pride restrained him. He had 
 hoped that her sense of what was due to himself, as well as 
 the blood which ran in her veins, would preserve her from 
 yielding to this miserable infatuation! But he would no 
 longer preserve silence ! He would speak his mind plainly ! 
 Then, if she chose, she might marry me and welcome ! She 
 would at least have his curse for a dower ! 
 
 "The baronet uttered all this and much more with a 
 iery wrath and indignation which seemed to increase as he 
 
 13 
 
290 
 
 FAITIFAX ; OR, 
 
 proceeded. When his speech ended, he was furious, aa / 
 red with anger. I was pale. 
 
 " ' Sir William Powys,' I said, with a sinking heart, but a 
 collected voice, 'you have done what gentlemen seldom do 
 — insulted a visitor in your own house ! But I have no in- 
 sult to hurl back in return. You know well that I cannot 
 answer you — you know why. I scorn to reply to your 
 charges of dishonor — they fall harmless, for they are unjust 
 and unfounded, as you know. I shall now go, sir — this in- 
 terview ends all, as you desire. I will intrude myself upon 
 no family which scorns me — you need fear nothing, sir — it 
 will not be necessary to curse your daughter.' 
 
 "And I bowed and went away. On the portico I met 
 Edith. She was as pale as death. She had heard all 
 through the open window. With a quivering lip she held 
 out her hand, I pressed it to my lips with a groan, and 
 rode away, at a gallop, with a choking sensation in my 
 throat. I had acted as a gentleman of the house of Fair- 
 fax should act — but my heart was almost broken in the 
 struggle. 
 
 " I will hasten on in my narrative. When old events re- 
 turn they beguile me into unending details." 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 291 
 
 LV. 
 
 TV HAT THE PACKAGE TORN BY THE BEAR CONTAINED. 
 
 FEW months afterward, Edith Powys had be- 
 come my wife :— my father and mother were 
 both dead : — I was the head of the house, 
 though I had not reached my majority." 
 The Earl paused as he uttered these words, and a deep 
 sigh issued from the depths of his heart. These memories 
 evidently agitated him profoundly — but controlling his 
 emotion, he continued his narrative. 
 
 " I shall not pause to speak of the grief I experienced at 
 the loss of my parents — upon that subject T do not like to 
 say anything. I shall confine my attention to the events 
 which I wish to relate. The explanation of my marriage 
 will not be either difficult or lengthy. From the day on 
 which I held the angry interview with Sir William Powys, 
 the relations between himself, and his son and daughter, 
 tiad greatly changed. A mutual coldness sprung up. The 
 father regarded the daughter as a rebel against his author- 
 ity — an unworthy scion of the house of Powys. The daugh- 
 ter — with what justice you must decide — considered her 
 father harsh and unjust. The insults which he had heaped 
 upon an unoffending gentleman, aroused her nice sense of 
 fairness and justice, and his coldness toward herself revolted 
 her pride and self-respect; in a word, the family at Powys 
 Court were divided, and marshalled on opposite sides. 
 Arthur sided with his sister. He was never, in the remotest 
 degree, discourteous to his father; but a thousand trifling 
 incidents indicated kis opinion of the amount of blame at- 
 
292 
 
 FAIRFAX ) OB, 
 
 taching to each. Under this household discord, the baronet 
 writhed vainly. There was nothing to find fault with, no 
 disrespect ever was shown him, much less any disobedience; 
 his orders and requests were all sedulously complied with, 
 and no word of complaint was uttered. But the skeleton 
 was there. In the eyes of the young man and his sister, 
 the knight read as plainly as in a printed book, changed 
 feeling, coolness, the revolt against injustice. The baronet 
 endured it in wrathful silence — but he endured it. It broke 
 the health of his daughter. She could not preserve her 
 feeling toward her father without bleeding inwardly — her 
 cheek became paler and paler — she grew ill. Then she did 
 not rise from her couch, and the tragedy approached its 
 catastrophe. The baronet went to see her one morning, 
 and she threw her arms around his neck, and burst into 
 tears. She could not go on feeling toward him, she 
 said: it would kill her; she loved hhs* nore than her life; 
 he was her own dear father, and she had been sinful. — Then 
 her voice was choked with sobs. All the tenderness so 
 long pent up in the heart of the baronet responded. He 
 took the girl to his heart, gazed with apprehension upon 
 her white worn cheeks, and groaned aloud. An hour after- 
 ward he had passed through the great struggle between hia 
 affection and his pride. He came to Denton and begged 
 me to pardon his harsh words. Would I ride back to 
 Powys Court with him? He set his teeth close as he 
 spoke, and breathed heavily. 
 
 "I need scarcely say that I acceded to the invitation. 
 The weeks which had elapsed, had nearly killed me — my 
 health and strength were gone — I was the mere shadow of 
 myself. The loss of Edith had nearly broken my heart, and 
 I moped like an octogenarian. Thus I had no pride to op- 
 pose to the baronet. I think my face flushed with delight. 
 His horse scarcely kept up with my own as we rode toward 
 Powys Court. 
 
 "I did not see Edith, of course, but I saw Arthur. Ha 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 293 
 
 dined with us; and I could read in his frank face the happi- 
 ness he felt at the event of the morning. The baronet was 
 sedulously courteous and attentive to me during dinner, an^ 
 we sat long at the table, drinking wine and talking on a 
 variety of topics. We both understood that the whole scene 
 was a piece of acting — but when two men desire mutually to 
 carry on a drama, there is no failure in the dialogue or the 
 gesture. I knew that the obdurate father had relented; that 
 he intended Arthur to relate evury thing to Edith; and he 
 doubtless knew that I rated his sudden courtesy at its just 
 value, and comprehended its design. When I left the house, 
 I had promised to return in a few days. When I again 
 entered the old hall, I was told that Edith awaited me in 
 the drawing-room. Arthur handed me a paper as he said 
 this, smiling; and I read the words : 
 
 " 'I consent that Viscount Fairfax shall proceed in the matter upon 
 wHch we had, some months since, a discussion, if it still be the desire 
 of that gentleman. William Powys.' 
 
 "I blushed with delight, and placing the paper in my 
 bosom, hastened forward toward Edith, who came to meet 
 me with a faint color in her cheeks. Let me not speak 
 further of this scene, except to say that when I left Powys 
 Court, late in the evening, the young lady was affianced to 
 me. Six months afterward we were married. 
 
 " I now speak of a portion of my life, which stands out 
 clear and distinct from the rest, as one of the great 
 mountain headlands here, lit by the sunset, raises its 
 head above the gloomy valleys. For a time I was happy — 
 wholly, perfectly. The days glided away like hours, and 
 they were diays of unalloyed sunshine : for I loved my wife 
 with a depth of tenderness which is indescribable. She 
 bloomed in the great old hall at Denton, like a flower of the 
 spring; blessing me with her sweet smile, and tender eyes, 
 and adding a new lustre to my life. Those months are now 
 my most cherished recollection; I go away from the lonely 
 
294 
 
 FAIRFAX; OK, 
 
 present, and live again in the past. I feel her heart beat 
 
 against my own, and — I wake from the dream to stretch 
 out my widowed arms and utter a groan — for she is past 
 the stars ! 
 
 " My narrative is nearly ended. I proceed now to relate 
 events which have been a mystery to me for more than a 
 quarter of a century — which I came to comprehend but the 
 other day — on the mountain there, when I retired with the 
 personage who passes under the name of Powell, but who is 
 no other than the Sir William Powys, of whom I am speaking. 
 You start, but do not interrupt me. To continue : Left alone 
 almost, at his old country house, the baronet became silent 
 and gloomy. His daughter had been more to him than all 
 else in the world, and by removing her from his side, I had 
 added another to the long list of wrongs which he had 
 scored up in his brooding memory against the name of 
 Fairfax. Arthur was good company, and had been the 
 pride of his father; bat the young man's espousal of his 
 sister's cause, had created a <5oolness toward him on the part 
 of the baronet; and the old familiar relations between them 
 were thus interrupted. Another cause of complaint against 
 the young man was the frequency of his visits to Denton, 
 whither the baronet himself very seldom went; and thus 
 the days of the master of Powys Court were lonely and un- 
 happy. Upon my head, as- 1 now know, all the pent up 
 storm was secretly discharged. He had been forced by cir- 
 cumstances to sanction my union with Edith, but his 
 repugnance to myself remained undiminished; and this feel- 
 ing ripened rapidly into a sentiment of actual hatred — 
 smouldering silently, and only awaiting an opportunity of 
 &triking its object. This opportunity soon came. The 
 Countess of Fairfax retvirned, after the English custom, to 
 the mansion of her parents, to pass through that ordeal of 
 suffering, which God has imposed upon women as the pen* 
 alty of their entrance into the sacred world of maternity. 
 True, Edith's mother was not living, but at Powys Courfc 
 
THE MASTER OF GBEENWAY COURT. 
 
 295 
 
 she might fancy the presence of the dear form at her bed- 
 side; and to Powys Court she accordingly went. 
 
 "A month afterward, an heir of my name was born, but 
 died in twelve hours. My wife was already dead — she 
 had surrendered her existence in giving life to another 
 human being. She died with her hand in my own, smiling 
 sweetly as she always smiled when she looked at me; ae 
 she will smile, I trust, when we are reunited in heaven, 
 where sorrow and tears come no more." 
 
 The Earl pressed his hand to his forehead, and his weary 
 eyes moistened as he thus recalled the scenes of the past. 
 His brows contracted with a weary shadow, and a groan 
 which issued from the bottom of his heart, revealed the extent 
 of his suffering. He remained thus silent, and overcome bj 
 emotion for some moments, then his eyes suddenly became 
 dry again, and a flash darted froni them. A cold and men- 
 acing expression came to the quivering lip, and he con- 
 tinued : 
 
 " I said that my son died twelve hours after his birth. 
 In so declaring, I gave the statement of his nurse and Sir 
 William Powys — a falsehood Yes, a horrible, base false- 
 hood, unworthy of a menial, much more of a gentleman! 
 The truth will serve to display the awful dej^ths of depravity, 
 to which a man who profoundly hates another will descend, 
 under the influence of a thirst for vengeance. It was not 
 my son who died; it was the child of one of the maids, 
 born almost at the same moment, and substituted, in its 
 death-throes, in place of my own. The unhappy man con- 
 fessed all to me on the Fort Mountain in our interview — 
 confessed with shame and repentance, and shuddering 
 humiliation, the means which he had made use of to rob 
 me of this solace of my widowed heart. By a large bribe he 
 induced a woman of the household to make the change; the 
 child of the servant thus died in the chamber where mj 
 . dead wife was lying; mine was placed in the arms of th« 
 servant as her own. 
 
296 
 
 FAIRFAX ; OR, 
 
 "Thus, under the stimulus of h, terrible sentiment o! 
 hatred, and thirst for vengeance, did Sir William Powys 
 commit an action which has made him, he declares, supremely 
 miserable for more than a score of years. His object was a 
 double one. He aimed at depriving me of an inexpressible 
 consolation, and at securing to himself the child of his 
 daughter. It was almost with burning jealousy, he declares, 
 that he thought of me, in possession of this memorial of his 
 child, whom he loved so tenderly, and relinquished to me 
 only to make her happy. His scheme, he declares, was tG 
 rear the boy carefully, to make him heir to his entire pos- 
 sessions; and before I died to reveal the whole matter, and 
 further secure for him the earldom and wealth of the house 
 of Fairfax. Such was his design — a portion of it woefully 
 succeeded. But to return. 
 
 " I followed the dead bodies of my wife, and my supposed 
 child, to the Denton churchyard, and saw them placed in 
 the earth. Then I mounted my horse and returned to my 
 desolate home, broken-hearfced and longing for death to put 
 an end to my misery. I was destined to be struck again 
 heavily. A servant handed me a paekage as I dismounted; 
 I opened and read it with a quivering lip; then I fell into 
 a seat, almost prostrated. My guardians had cut off the 
 entail of Denton, in order to preserve the great Leeds Cas 
 tie Manor, derived from my mother, the daughter, as I have 
 said, of Lord Culpeper: the house of my forefathers was no 
 longer my own; I was tenant at Denton by sufferance. I 
 despair of conveying to you any adequate idea of the weight 
 of the blow which thus struck me. It is true the project 
 had long been under consideration, in spite of my remon- 
 strances and protests; but I was now so near my legal ma- 
 jority, that I had abandoned all fears upon the subject. I 
 was tottering when the stroke came; it almost prostrated 
 me. Denton was lost to me ! It was no longer my own I 
 The house which I was born in, which recalled to me every 
 happy moment of my youth, which my wife had lived in, 
 
THE MASTER OE GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 297 
 
 and made sacred in my eyes — Denton was the property oi 
 strangers. To my overpowering pain, succeeded a mad, 
 speechless rage; and I stormed like a child at the men who 
 had done this. I went to them and told them I would 
 never forgive them; but it was a pitiful conclusion after aH. 
 I was powerless — finally I yielded, and grew calm. I sur- 
 rendered the house and went to London. I lay there for 
 months tossing with fever — then I rose, an old man at 
 twenty-one. 
 
 " Such were the events of my early years in England.* 1 
 
298 
 
 FAIRFAX ; OB, 
 
 LVL 
 
 CONCLUSION OF THE EAKl/s NARRATIVE. 
 
 •HE rest of my narrative," continued the Eail, 
 "may be related briefiy. But, first I shall tell 
 you what you have no doubt understood ere this, 
 that the young man who passes here under the 
 name of Falconbridge is my son. Let me go on. 
 
 "After his terrible, and successful plot, Sir William 
 Powys proceeded quietly to adopt and rear the child, of 
 whom he had deprived me. But events soon occurred 
 which overthrew all his calculations. A creditor who had a 
 claim upon every foot of land which the baronet possessed, 
 forced the payment of the debt, and thus Powys Court 
 passed from its owner's hands, as Denton had escaped from 
 mine. The baronet was thrown upon the world, and had it 
 not been for his son, Arthur, would have had nowhere to 
 lay his head. The young man had married some time 
 before, and now received his father and the child under his 
 roof. 
 
 " But Sir William was haunted eternally by a single 
 thought. He dreaded the discovery by himself of the . 
 infant's identity, and the thought of being compelled by law 
 to part with him, aroused all the old hatred and jealousy in 
 his heart. The boy already began to display unmistakable 
 indications of his origin. He was the image of hits mother, 
 and no one who had ever seen Edith failed to note, and 
 refer to this resemblance. People began to inquire why the 
 haughty and aristocratic Sir William Powys had adopted and 
 received as his own child, the son of a servant in his house- 
 
THE MASEEH OF GREENIVAY COUBT. 
 
 299 
 
 hold. The gossips of the neighborhood duly seized upon 
 the matter, and began to shake their heads, and ask if that 
 poor young Lord Fairfax had really lost his child. It was a 
 yague and undefined idea in all minds ; but the question 
 was not permitted to rest. 
 
 " This state of things became at last so troublesome, thai 
 Sir William cast about him for some means of quieting the 
 gossips, and at the same time securing the infant from evei 
 falling into my hands. The means all at once presented 
 themselves, A Mr. Falconbridge of the region was about 
 emigrating to the Virginia Colony — and his wife, who was 
 childless, had taken a great fancy to the boy. Sir William 
 was not long in making up his mind. He sounded the 
 parties, and discovered that they would willingly adopt the 
 child as their own, and take charge of his future. The bar- 
 gain was soon agreed upon, and when Mr. Falconbridge 
 sailed for Virginia, he took my son with him, as his own 
 child, and bearing his name. 
 
 "Thus had crime reached its punishment. This man 
 who had inflicted upon me such a cruel vengeance, was as 
 cruelly wounded himself. He loved the boy dearly, and 
 was compelled to part with him. He continued in England, 
 dependent upon the boLtnty of his son — but after some 
 years even this was denied him. Arthur died, and his wife 
 followed him. The family had subsisted upon the saiary 
 of a county office which the young man held : and thus Sir 
 William found himself without means of support, with a 
 further cause of disquiet and apprehension. Arthur had 
 left a little daughter. You know her, under the name of 
 Cannie Powell. This daughter the poor man came to love 
 with a doting affection ; and to reai her in a manner 
 suitable to her origin and rank now became the most cher- 
 ished desire of her grandfather. Without means of doing 
 go in the Old World, Sir William came to the New. He 
 crossed the ocean, and settled upon a small tract of land on 
 the shores of the Chesapeake ; and thence came here to the 
 
300 
 
 FAIRFAX; PR, 
 
 mountains, for the health of his granddaughter. Soon aftei 
 his arrival, ho discovered a mine of silver and g >ld, and in 
 working this mine, impelled by the desire of amassing 
 money for his child, he secured that reputation for witch- 
 craft, which ended in his arrest and trial. He had frequent 
 ly seen his grandson, young Falconbridge, in the Lowland, 
 but shame had prevented him from revealing their connec- 
 tion, and even from making his acquaintance, as a stranger. 
 Assured of the fact that the elder Falconbridge loved the 
 young man, and regarded him as his son, he yielded to the 
 hard fate which kept them asunder, and dedicated his life 
 to little Cannie. When I came to Green way, a year or two 
 since, Sir William was residing in the mountain. Why I 
 emigrated to America, you doubtless know. Stripped of 
 Denton, and longing for new scenes, I came hither, and 
 took possession of my property, like Leeds Castle, derived 
 from Lord Culpeper through my mother. I never met Sir 
 William, though I often hunted in the Fort Mountain — and 
 a strange Providence threw us, for the first time, face to 
 face, in the attitude of criminal and judge. By the side of 
 the old man I saw my son, and my son's cousin ; his grand- 
 children, both ; and all strikingly alike. The strange 
 resemblance which Falconbridge, as I shall call him still, 
 bore to Arthur and Edith, impressed me powerfully on our 
 first meeting, and one night, when he slept here, I stole at 
 midnight to his chamber, led thither by an impulse which I 
 could not resist. 
 
 " You know all, now, Captain Wagner. I have related my 
 whole life. You are acquainted with the events which have 
 occurred since the young man's visit fo this region ; I 
 scarce dare to refer to them. An inscrutable Providence 
 decreed that father and son should be rivals, in a mad infat- 
 uation for a woman ; that they should oppose each other 
 sword in hand ; that they should shed each other's blood ; 
 though God be thanked, not to the death ! The man whose 
 act placed us in this unnatural attitude, revealed all before 
 
THE MASTER OF GKEENWA f JOtTRT. 
 
 SOi 
 
 ft was t^o late. In our interview on the mountain, he con- 
 fessed his crime, and prayed me in a trembling "voice to 
 forgive him. He had delivered, some time before, a package > 
 to the youth for me, containing the whole explanation, which 
 was strangely lost. But at least it came in time. No 
 power can now arm us again. I shall never look more upon 
 the woman whom my boy loves ; I will warn him against 
 her, for I feel thai she is false and dangerous. 
 
 " That is all, Captain," said the Earl, raising his head, and 
 sighing deeply, but no longer with the old painful expression. 
 " I have related a strange history — 'tis such, is it not ? — and 
 you have listened as friend listens to friend. The narrative 
 has been a singular relief to me ; I feel light-hearted 
 almost. I end by a serious and earnest petition. I impose 
 upon you a duty which I know you will gladly perform. 
 In the scenes of danger which my boy is about to enter, 
 watch over his life, and bring him back safe to me. On the 
 day of his return I will tell him that his name is not Falcon- 
 bridge ; that his blood is my blood ; that I thank the 
 Supreme Lord of this world, and all worlds, that Edmund 
 Lord Fairfax, the seventh of the name, and Baron of Cam- 
 eron in the kingdom of Scotland, for such will be my boy, — 
 is better than a mere noble, better than the greatest lord — 
 a noble and true hearted gentleman !" 
 
 The face of the glad father glowed as he spoke, and his 
 form rose erect, with a pride and happiness which is inde- 
 scribable. 
 
 "Yes, Captain!" said the Earl, with flushed cheeks, and 
 brilliant eyes, " yes, Falconbridge is a gentleman every inch 
 of him ! a nobleman by God's patent, as by the king's ! In 
 his presence, as I gazed at him, and listened to his voice, I 
 have said, "This is a chevalier of old days!" In his per- 
 suasive tones, in his clear, frank eyes, in his lips, in hii 
 whole bearing, in his rage, as when he smiled, I have seen 
 the great soul of the boy, the pure gold of Ids nature 1 1 
 have thrilled with a nameless delight, when he spoke ; I 
 
802 
 
 AlKFAX ; OB, 
 
 have gazed with \onging into his deep, true eyes . baye 
 said, 'What pride must this youth's father feel!' and yon 
 may understand now the emotion which I experience when 
 I can add, ' This is my son.' " 
 
 The Earl was silent, and Captain "Wagner did not imme- 
 diately reply. Leaning his head upon his huge hand, he 
 reflected with absorbing interest upon the remarkable 
 history which he had just heard. He remained thus absent 
 and buried in thought, for a long time after the Earl 
 ceased speaking. Then he raised his head, and uttered the 
 characteristic words : 
 
 "Yes, a trump, or the devil take it!" 
 
 The Earl smiled at the sonorous voice of the worthy 
 soldier, and said : 
 
 " You mean my son ?" 
 
 " Yes, my lord. And I beg you to observe one fact — 
 that when I say a man's a trump, I mean the trump of 
 hearts, that being the finest card, to my thinking, in the pack. 
 I have always regarded your lordship as a man of discrim- 
 ination ; I think so now more than ever, or I'm a dandy ! 
 Yes, this Falconbridge is truly a gentleman, and that's 
 better, as you say, than being a nobleman. I am not 
 myself a gentleman — don't be waving your hand, my dear 
 friend — I would have been, with training, if that satisfies you, 
 I think in fact that a real marquis was spoiled when Cap- 
 tain Julius Wagner took to the border. Nevertheless, in 
 spite of this unfortunate state of things, I am acquainted 
 with the article, and recognize it. I say Falconbridge is 
 made of real gold ! Let me hear anybody deny it ! I'll 
 slice 'em! Zounds! my lord! I loved him at first sight! 
 I couldn't keep my eyes off that proud-looking face of his — 
 and when he dangled after that woman, I nearly cried I 
 From the first, this young fellow bossed Wagner, or I'm a 
 dandy ! I am fond of your lordship, but I honestly declare 
 f hat yonder on the Fort Mountain, I hoped he'd make a 
 nole in your coat — that is to say — hum I rather than b« 
 
the master of greenway cocrt. 80S 
 
 drilled himself! Friendly, that, eh, my lord? But it's 
 true. It will show you how that boy has wrapped himself 
 around my old heart : I growl like a miserable old bear 
 when he groans — he's as much my son as your lordship's I'' 
 
 The Captain accompanied the words by a blow upon the 
 table with his fist. 
 
 " There, there," he said more calmly, "I've made a fool of 
 myself — if I haven't done a disgraceful piece of courting. 
 The fact is, my lord, I wan't a manor on the Opequon, and 
 it occurred to me that this was the way to get around you, 
 I have no sort of liking for this lofty headed youngster, but 
 I praise him, you see, to arrive at my own ends. Is the 
 ' Redbud Manor' still unoccupied, my lord?" 
 
 And the Captain gazed with a look of earnest inquiry into 
 the countenance of Lord Fairfax. 
 
 The Earl smiled. It was a happy smile — no longer grim 
 and melancholy^ as on former occasions. 
 
 " You are a bungling courtier, Captain Wagner," he said, 
 " and I predict will never become a very distinguished di- 
 plomatist. But I'll make a contract with you. Bring my 
 boy back safely, and I'll make you a deed to twice as many 
 acres as the ' Redbud ' tract. Is it a bargain ?" 
 
 " No, my lord," returned the Captain, " it is nothing of 
 the sort. The fact is, the * Redbud ' land is miserably bar- 
 ren — not half equal to my wife's property which joins it 
 No, your lordship, and at present Captain Wagner is talking 
 seriously — by the book — I'll receive no pay, for looking after 
 the youngster, any more than I would for guarding Julius. 
 Lord Wagner, the second of the name and Baron of Win- 
 chester in the Kingdom of Virginia ! I'll be by him, and 
 keep the balls off him — if I don't I'm a dandy ! And so 
 that's all. Let me now go and carry out my other promise 
 — that of bringing Lord Fairfax, the younger, to Green way. 
 The sun is getting low, and it is time to be on the road 
 Your lordship wishes him to come sleep here ?" 
 
 "Yes, Captain, You will pardon the weakness of a fathot 
 
804 
 
 FAIKFAX ; OR, 
 
 whose son is going on a perilous expedition to-morrow I 
 would see him once more." 
 
 " Eight, right ! I've had boys myself, and t know what 
 that means ; you want to have the youngster here close to 
 
 you." 
 
 The Earl smiled and inclined. 
 
 "It is one of my chief happinesses in this lonely region to 
 have by my side a friend like yourself, Captain, who under' 
 stands me. Go then — 'tis another obligation still." 
 
 " Slop that talking, my lord. Julius Wagner's a good 
 fellow, but no such great things after all. I'll go bring 
 him — whether he wants to come or not — or I'm a dandy !" 
 
 With which words, the Borderer issued forth, and mount- 
 ing Injunhater, hastened to the Ordinary. Two hours af- 
 terwards, Falconbridge, as we shall continue to call him, 
 was seated in the great apattiyviit at Green way, conversing 
 with George, thf» vA <%ptain. 
 
THE MASTER OF 3KEENWAY COURT. 
 
 806 
 
 LYII. 
 
 THE CONFLAOEATION. 
 
 E might p&use here to note the strange and mov- 
 ing attitudes which some of the personages of 
 our narrative sustained toward each other. We 
 might exhibit the good Earl in the presence of 
 his sen, listening with: smiles as the young man talks:— ^or 
 returning to the day when Falconbridge visited the Fort 
 Mountain, we might dwell on the secret attraction which he 
 felt toward his little cousin, and the sympathetic affection of 
 child in return. 
 
 We might dedicate some pages to this series of reflections, 
 but it is not necessary. It is well that such is the fact. 
 Our narrative is not ended. It must depict more than one 
 additional scene of passion before it concludes. The hours 
 are even now descending upon the actors in the valley and 
 the mountain, at the Ordinary, and Greenway. 
 
 For a long time the occupants of the old border mansion 
 continued to converse upon a variety of topics. Falcon- 
 bridge v>as gloomy and the victim evidently of an incurable 
 sadness — but he no longer cherished any ill-will toward the 
 Earl. It is true, he still wondered at the scene in the Fort, 
 and vainly racked his brain to account for the action of 
 Lord Fairfax: but a more absorbing thought filled his agi- 
 tated mind; the terrible secret which had been revealed to 
 him by Mr. ArgaL 
 
 He looked older. His countenance, which before had 
 been the model of youthful beauty, began to shrink away, and 
 present the traits of age. His cheeks were hollow, his eyes 
 dim — his lips were filled with inexpressib le sorrow ; or wore 
 
 7 
 
808 
 
 FAIRFAX; OR, 
 
 a smile of such sadness that the Earl was moved almost to 
 tears as he gazed. 
 
 As the hours drew on, however, something of this gloom 
 disappeared. Captain Wagner directed the conversation 
 toward the events of the morrow — the march on the Indians 
 — the fated struggle. Then Falconbridge aroused himself. 
 His eyes glowed, his cheek flushed — when the soldier drew 
 a picture of the murdered women and children, the face of 
 the young man became menacing and dark — the war fever 
 began to replace the sombre brooding. 
 
 George never moved his eyes for a moment from Falcon- 
 bridge. The youth seemed to be drawn to him by an irresist- 
 ible attraction. The manly eyes of the boy uttered plainly 
 the emotions of his heart — the deep affection which he felt 
 toward the other. Indeed, this feeling amounted to a pas- 
 sion almost; and if, amid the advancing scenes of our narra- 
 tive, we have not paused to dwell upon this beautiful friend- 
 ship, it was not because it did not possess all the elements 
 of an exquisite picture. From the first day of their meeting, 
 »hese two natures had embraced each other. Heart spoke 
 ',o heart, with the frankness and sincerity which spring from 
 nobility of soul. With the elder it was a sentiment of affec- 
 tion, almost tenderness — with George not only that: ho 
 looked up to his friend as to one who should be taken as a 
 model — as to his superior, and bright exemplar in all 
 bhings. 
 
 Long afterwards, when a new world had risen from the 
 ruins of the old — when a long stormy life had thrown the 
 youth into contact with all varieties of excellence and no- 
 bility and moral grandeur — when, a gray-haired man, George 
 returned to this region — he gazed on the scenes amid which 
 his friend had once moved ; and said with a sigh, which 
 sounded strangely from him, " There never was another hu- 
 man being like him !" 
 
 So the long hours fled away into the darkness of the 
 past — and at night the occupants at Greeaway retired. Ife 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY ,OURT. 
 
 807 
 
 * as the last time they ever met, all together in the old apart- 
 ment. 
 
 In an hour they were slumberirg luietly — but they were 
 destined to be awakened. 
 
 Falconbridge was sleeping as tranquilly as an infant, when 
 suddenly he felt a violent grasp on his arm, and the voice of 
 Cap tain Wagner thundered: 
 
 " Wake, comrade ! They're on us at last I" 
 
 The young man sprang from his couch and rapidly 
 dressed himself without speaking. George, who slept in 
 the same room, did the same. 
 
 " They're on us, or the devil fly away with it !" cried the 
 Captain ; " come, hurry ! His lordship's waiting by tjiis 
 time. I sent the messenger to his room!" 
 
 " The messenger ?" asked Falconbridge, coolly. 
 
 "Yes! Just look out and you'll see what news he 
 brought !' 
 
 As he spoke, the Captain raised the curtain of the window 
 and pointed to the west. Above the belt of forest soared a 
 tongue of flame, and the country was illuminated for miles 
 by a great conflagration. 
 
 " The Ordinary!" said George. 
 
 "Yes, the Ordinary! By the horns of the devil 1 You 
 are right ! Come, friends ! There's not a moment to lose I M 
 
 And the Captain hurried down to the large apartment 
 where, while sleeping as his wont was on one of the couches, 
 the messenger from the tavern had aroused him. 
 
 Lord Fairfax was already dressed, and speaking rapidly 
 to the man who had brought the intelligence. George and 
 Falconbridge entered, a3 he was doing so. 
 
 The news was quickly communicated to all. The band of 
 Indians who had made a feint of directing their inarch to- 
 ward the Potomac, did sc only to mask their real plan. 
 They had turned back suddenly and descended upon Win- 
 chester, and the Green way Court manor, burning and mur- 
 dering as they went. They had come thu§, duly to the 
 
808 
 
 FAIRFAX, 08, 
 
 neighborhood of the Ordinary, and at onc« proceeded to 
 attack that mansion. The occupants could make little or no 
 resistance — the savages had taken the place and set it on 
 fire an hour before. The fat landlord, Van Doring, had 
 been killed on his threshold — every servant but the one who 
 related these events had fallen victims to the assailants; 
 and the savages had finally hastened away, in a southern 
 direction, carrying with them as prisoners, Mrs. Butterton, 
 Monsieur Jambot and Major Hastyluck, who had slept at 
 the tavern — as beasts of burden to bear the plunder on 
 their shoulders. 
 
 The Captain bounded again as he heard this, and growled 
 rather than said: 
 
 " To horse I" 
 
 With which words he rushed from the apartment. In ten 
 minutes every one was mounted, and a hurried consultation 
 was held as to the propriety of leaving Greenway undefend- 
 ed. 
 
 "They're gone southwest ! I know 'em," growled Cap- 
 tain Wagner ; " the attack on us here would have been made 
 before this if they had not been afraid that the house was 
 regularly garrisoned 1" 
 
 The servant who had brought the intelligence corrobo- 
 rated this view, and stated that he had heard the Indians dis- 
 cuss, in broken English, the question of attacking Green- 
 way. They had given up the idea, upon the identical 
 grounds mentioned by the Captain — and had hastened tow- 
 ard the south, leaving him tied in the burning house, from 
 which he had managed, however, to escape. 
 
 This settled all doubt: and in a moment the four men 
 were spurring rapidly to the scene of the catastrophe. 
 
 A horrible spectacle awaited them. The mansion was 
 wrapt in flames, and in front were lying no less than six 
 dead bodies, among whom was seen the portly form of 
 Mynheer Van Doring, scalped and bleeding from many 
 mortal wounds. A sight if anything more terrible was pre* 
 
THE MASTER OF GEEENWAI COCTBT, 
 
 809 
 
 sented a few paces off. Several infant children, belonging 
 to the dead servants of the establishment, were hanging in 
 trees, transfixed with arrows. The Indians had evidently 
 perpetrated this shocking tragedy in sport; and while the 
 Earl and his companions were gazing at the contorted 
 forms, another barbarity still was revealed. The stable of 
 the Ordinary was burning like the mansion, and the cries oi 
 some cattle and sheep which were shut in, made the night 
 hideous to the listeners.* 
 
 The first act of the party was to drag the dead bodies 
 out of the flames, and liberate the cattle which went bellow- 
 ing with terror into the forest. Then the Captain leaped 
 into the saddle and cast a rapid glance around him. A 
 number of settlers, for the most part hunters, had assem- 
 bled, attracted from their homes by the flames of the burn- 
 ing mansion. To these the Borderer, who seemed on fire 
 with rage, addressed himself in quick, brief words. His 
 directions were succinct and simple. They were to disperse 
 in all quarters and arouse the inhabitants — the men would 
 meet at the " Three Oaks," near the house of Mr. Argal — 
 a point in the prairie which every settler was acquainted 
 with. He himself would spend the night in scouring the 
 country. The various parties would assemble at daybreak, 
 or sunrise at the latest. 
 
 These directions were rapidly obeyed. The hunters dis- 
 persed and hurried away, disappearing with long strides in 
 the gathering darkness. 
 
 * " The Indians dragged the dead body back to the house, threw it in, plundered 
 the house of what they chose, and then set fire to it While the house was in flames 
 consuming the body of Mr. Painter, they forced from the arms of their mothers, four in- 
 fant children, hung them up in trees, shot them in savage sp*art, and left them hanging. 
 They then set fire to a stable in which were inclosed a parcel of sheep and calves, thus 
 cruelly and wantonly torturing to death the dumb animals. After these atrocities, 
 they moved off with forty-eight prisoners, among whom were Mrs. Painter, five of 
 her daughters and one of her sous: a Mrs. Smith and several of her children, among 
 them a lad of twelve or thirteen years old, a fine, well grown boy, and remarkably 
 fleshy. This little fellow, it will preser tly be seen, was destined to be the victim oi 
 
 savage cruelty Oae of the Painter -vith Myer, ran over thai nigh.* ta 
 
 Powell's fort"— KEBCFunoL, Page 105. 
 
510 
 
 FAIRFAX J OR, 
 
 "Now friends !" said Captain "Wagner to the Earl and hia 
 companions, " let every man imitate me. There's no time 
 for ceremony ! I could bite off my head for this hoggish 
 stupidity of mine I I trusted that fellow who brought me 
 the news that the band had gone back, and would slay him 
 where he stood if he were here 1 To work ! I will go and 
 bring the boys from Winchester, where they were to assem- 
 ble to-day — for days coming. Go arm, gentlemen ! arm; 
 this is only the beginning of the sight you're going to see !" 
 
 And saluting, the Borderer put spur to his huge animal, 
 and took the road to Winchester at a thundering gallop. 
 
 " I will return to Green way Court, gentlemen," said the 
 Earl, with his old grim expression, " I will send all my ser- 
 vants in every direction — and then join you at the ' Three 
 Oaks ' at daybreak." 
 
 With these words he left the room and soon disappeared 
 like the Captain, at a rapid gallop. 
 
 George and Falconbridge looked at each other. The 
 same thought had occurred to them at the same instant. 
 The Indians had gone southward — in the direction of Mr. 
 Argal's — in the direction of the Fort Mountain ! 
 
 No word was uttered: a simultaneous movement of the 
 head — the spur in the sides of the horses — and they separ- 
 ated and were lost in the darkness. 
 
THE MASTED OF GREEOTAT OOUBT. 
 
 811 
 
 THE SEARCH. 
 
 ALCO^BRIDGE pushed his spirited animal until 
 
 the coarser rather bounded than ran. 
 
 The great trees flitted by like spectres; tha 
 prairie glimmered, and fled behind him; /dart- 
 ing onward like some phantom of the German poets, he re- 
 sembled rather the wild image of a feverish dream, than a 
 real man of flesh and blood. 
 
 A terrible dread had seized upon him. The Indians had 
 gone directly toward Mr. Argal's. She was slain perhaps — 
 even now she might be weltering in her blood ! That ten- 
 der and beautiful face might be gashed by the tomahawk — 
 the scalping-knife might have encircled the white temples, 
 — and the mass of raven curls which he had often twined 
 around his fingers might be hanging at the belt of a savage ! 
 
 The thought maddened him almost, and he felt, with 
 something like a dreadful shudder, that he loved this woman 
 still. 
 
 All the nobility and pity of his high nature was aroused 
 She had trifled with him perhaps — she had played with his 
 deep love — but after all, she was a woman, a weak woman ! 
 She was even more than that ! She was a poor feeble girl, 
 smitten by the hand of the Almighty, and irresponsible ! 
 Could he think of her lying in her blood on the threshold, 
 and turn away coldly with the thought, " She has deceived 
 me — I care nothing ?" 
 
 No, that was not possible. She was sacred to him still— 
 if all was ended between them. His life was a bauble ; of 
 
812 
 
 I AIRFAX; OB, 
 
 * 
 
 do value ; he cared naught for it : he would fulfill that 
 promise which he had made to her father. Ho would still 
 guard her from harm, and if necessary, die for her. 
 
 He fled on more rapidly. Sir John panted, and the foam 
 flew from his jaws. Then suddenly the house rose in the 
 darkness. 
 
 All was silent. The young man leaped to the ground anu 
 rushed in. 
 
 As he entered he stumbled and almost fell over a dead 
 body. An awful shudder convulsed him. He scarcely 
 dared to look down. Leaning for an instant against the 
 framework of the door, a sort of mist passed before him, 
 and he shook from head to foot. Then he summoned all 
 his strength, and knelt down, passing his trembling hand 
 over the figure. It was a woman, but not the form of her 
 he sought. A deep breath filled the bosom of the young 
 mar. as he rose erect. Stepping over the corpse of the 
 ssrvant, he hastened in, and going to the fire-place, struck a 
 light. The apartment was all at once illuminated. An 
 awful spectacle presented itself. 
 
 All around lay the corpses of the servants of the establish- 
 ment, in attitudes of indescribable agony, as they had died. 
 The room was rifled, the furniture broken. On more than 
 one object was a bloody stain which indicated a desperate 
 struggle. This, however, was the least of the spectacle. 
 There was another element — an object, or rather five objects 
 which sent the blood to his breast, and made him turn sick 
 with horror. 
 
 jlu the four corners of the room were affixed, by knives 
 driven through them into the wall, the quartered body of 
 Mr. Argal. On the summit of a stake which leaned against 
 the mantel-piece, the bleeding head of the unhappy man 
 looked, with a ghastly grin upon the features, at the in- 
 truder.* 
 
 * M The remaining two " Indiana, «' rasolved not to give up their prey, fcand it ne- 
 cmezry to proceed more cautioner ; and going to the lea*', exposed side of the bouNt 
 
^KF MASTER OF GREEN WAY COURT. S18 
 
 The young man recoiled before the terrible sight, step by 
 step, until he touched the opposite wall. He seemed en- 
 deavoring to fly from the grinning mouth, the lack-lustre 
 ©yes. 
 
 Then suddenly he remembered the object of his visit, 
 which had disappeared from his mind for an instant. Her 
 figure was not among the corpses on the floor — was it else- 
 where ? 
 
 With the flaring light raised above his head, he rushed 
 through the house from top to bottom — with clenched teeth 
 — breathing heavily- — searching for what he dared not to 
 think of. 
 
 It was not visible. Then she too had been carried away 
 prisoner — every moment that he tarried, increased the dis- 
 tance between them. Hurrying back to the main room, he 
 passed through it with averted head and shuddering limbs. 
 Stepping over the dead body of the woman at the threshold, 
 he ground the light beneath his heel, and leaving the ac- 
 cursed mansion with its horrors to darkness and silence, 
 leaped into the saddle and darted off in the direction of 
 the "Three Oaks." 
 
 cne was raised upon the shoulders of the other to an opening in the logs, some dis- 
 tance above the level of Mr. Williams, who did not consequently observe the manoeu- 
 vre, from which he fired and shot Mr. Williams dead. The body was instantly quar- 
 tered and hung to the four corners of the building, and the head stuck upon & fene* 
 stake in front of the door. This brave man was the father of the venerable Ed 
 «rud Williams, the olerk of Hardy County Court ' '— Kkrchevau 
 
 14 
 
314 
 
 FAIRFAX ; oa, 
 
 LIX 
 
 AT THE HOUSE IN THE MOUNTAIN. 
 
 EOKGE had meanwhile directed his course as ra« 
 pidly as Falconbridge toward the Fort Mountain. 
 
 The same terrible fear made his heart turn cold, 
 and his temples throb with fever. His imagina- 
 tion also made a picture for itself — the form of a young 
 girl stretched dead upon the ground, all mangled, and 
 bloody from the blows of the savages. 
 
 They spared no age or sex — hence they could not have 
 passed over Cannie, if they had gone, as they probably had 
 done, to the Fort Mountain. The child whom he loved 
 more than he loved his life, was dead — she would smile for 
 him no more — all his future was to be darkness and despair. 
 
 With a quivering lip, and eyes moist yet fiery, George fled 
 across the prairie at a desperate pace, driving the spur, cru- 
 elly, into the sides of his animal. 
 
 More than once the horse stumbled and nearly fell in the 
 tall grass, but a powerful lift of the bridle held him up : — 
 again he fled onward, like the shadow of a darting bird 
 across the wide expanse, toward the river. 
 
 The stream was reached, and soon crossed. Into the 
 frowning gorge, up the winding road, over rocks and fallen 
 trees which the animal cleared bound after bound, the boy 
 rushed on. 
 
 His horse reaied and almost fell at the door of the moun- 
 tain dwelling — the ascent had been cruelly exhausting. 
 
 George entered. An old servant was holding Mr. Powel] 
 m kis arms, and staunching a deep wound in his temple 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAT COURT. 815 
 
 The old man was insensible — the servant was groaning and 
 uttering exclamations. 
 
 It was some time before George could extort anything 
 from the servant, who only cried, " such a country 1 such a 
 country ! Oh ! for England again 1" 
 
 At last he was mastered by the stern tone and resolute 
 command in George's voice — he v related what had happened, 
 
 An hour before, the Indians, in large numbers, had sur- 
 prised the dwelling, and carried off Cannie. His master 
 had fought desperately, bat was soon overpowered — a blo"W 
 from a tomahawk had struck him down. Then the housa 
 had been rifled, and the band hurried away, right over the 
 summit of the mountain. 
 
 " And where were you ?" thundered the youth, in a tone 
 which made the servant quake; "cowardly wretch ! Why are 
 you alive, to speak to me— when your mistress is a pris- 
 oner of the Indians ?"' 
 
 The truth soon came out. The servant had fled into the 
 woods, and returned only when, from his hiding-place, he 
 saw the band depart. 
 
 As he finished his reluctant explanation, the old man 
 opened his eyes, and looked vaguely around. 
 
 " George," he murmured, " where is Cannie ?" 
 
 And with a violent movement he strove to rise to his feet. 
 
 " Sit still, Sir William ! there, sit still I" said the servant, 
 holding him. 
 
 " What have you done with my child ?" cried the old man, 
 flushing to the temples, and speaking in a tone of such terri- 
 ble anguish that it made the hearers tremble; "where is my 
 child ? Bring her hither !" 
 
 He resembled a lion at bay as he thus spoke, with glaring 
 eyes; but his strength suddenly failed him. The blood gushed 
 from the deep wound; and stretching his arms out wildly 
 he exclaimed, as he fell fainting: 
 
 "My child! my child!" 
 
 George's face had turned so pale that it frightened the 
 
116 
 
 PAIUFAX; OB, 
 
 servant and made him recoil. His teeth were clenched, and 
 
 his eyes burned with a steady and meaning flame, which in- 
 dicated the depth to which his nature was aroused. No one 
 would have recognized in the man of resolute coldness, who 
 stood gazing at the inanimate form, the gay and smiling boy 
 which he had always appeared to be. 
 
 G eorge was passing through that ordeal which tempers 
 the metal, and makes the soul steel for the real struggles of 
 life. 
 
 " Take care of your master, and bind up his wound," he 
 said hoarsely, " I leave him in your charge. If he asks for 
 his daughter, or for me, when he revives, say I told you I 
 had gone to bring her back or to die with her 1 Remem- 
 ber !" 
 
 And leaving the room, he mounted his panting animal 
 and pushed down the steep declivity as he had ascended. 
 
 The gorge was passed — the river crossed — through the 
 prairie, which began to glimmer in the first light of daybreak, 
 he rapidly advanced toward the " Three Oaks." 
 
 Many settlers had assembled, and others were approach- 
 ing from every quarter. Above the crowd, motionless as a 
 statue, on his white horse, the form of Falconbridge rose 
 clearly against the sky. 
 
 From the north, Captain "Wagner, followed by *» numb** 
 of hunters, approached at a tremendous gallop. 
 
THE MASTER OF GREEN WAY COURT. 
 
 317 
 
 CHAPTER LX 
 
 THE DEVIL'S GARDEN. 
 
 T is the evening succeeding the scenes which hare 
 just been related. 
 Tbe sun is near its setting. 
 A stream of crimson light, as red as blood, 
 bathes the ViJJtys and mountains, coloring tree trunks, 
 and mossy rocks and flowing streams, with its ruddy splen- 
 dor. 
 
 As the day declt&es, the deep flush ascends the trees, and 
 creeps up the precipices — with a stealthy crawl, like some 
 variegated wild animal, disappearing in the depths of the 
 gorges. 
 
 Finally it raises thr$ golden crown from the top of the 
 Blue Bidgs — fades from the pines of the wave-like Massinut- 
 ton, and lingers for an mstant on the Great North Mountain, 
 and those serried ranges which extend, like the huge ribs of 
 some prostrate giant, through the region which ia watered 
 by Lost Eiver. 
 
 One pinnacle only at last remains illuminated. It raises 
 its mighty head abruptly from the valley, at a point not 
 many miles south of the spot where Lost Eiver sicks and 
 disappears at the base of the mountain, which vainly seeks 
 to bar its advance. 
 
 There is something no less curious than majestic aboui 
 this vast pile, which is appropriately styled, by one who haa 
 described it, a " truly wonderful work of Nature." 
 
 Between two ranges of the bristling mountain, a strip of 
 ground, about half a mile wide, 
 
SiS 
 
 FAIRFAX; OR, 
 
 the liead of " Trout Kun," and continues to mount gradually 
 for the distance of three miles. Then it suddenly termi- 
 nates in a dizzy precipice — a vast Titanic pile of dark granite, 
 such as the giants who warred against the gods might have 
 heaped up as a memorial of one of their slain brethren. 
 The immense mass is entirely separate from the surround- 
 ing mountains — yawning chasms upon each hand present an 
 impassable gulf — in front the precipice descends as straight 
 as an arrow to the depth of five hundred feet. 
 
 The details of this singular natural wonder, are no lesa 
 striking than the object itself. 
 
 A portion of the summit is covered with flat rocks, form 
 ing a natural pavement — interrupted here and there by fis- 
 sures, — and on the eastern edge stands a gigantic bust in 
 granite — the head, neck and shoulders, clearly defined: — 
 the whole presenting to the eye "a frowning and terrific ap- 
 pearance." Near this figure, which gives its name to the 
 peak, formerly stood a granite pillar, ten or twelve feet high 
 — two or more feet in diameter, and four-square. This pil- 
 lar has been broken from it3 base by some convulsion of the 
 earth or the elements, and declines in the form of an arch 
 across one of the fissures of which we have spoken. 
 
 This is the summit. But the strange details of the peak 
 are not exhausted. About a hundred feet below the base of 
 the statue a door leads into deep caverns in the rock. After 
 leaving the entrance, the explorer finds himself in an apart- 
 ment with level floor and ceiling — from which a flight ol 
 stone steps ascend to another still larger. In like manner 
 twelve flights of steps give access to twelve apartments —the 
 last of which is just beneath the pavement of the summit, 
 and is lighted by one of the fissures already described.* 
 
 Such is " The Devil's Garden." And to this wild scene 
 we now beg the reader to accompany us. 
 
 For a time no living thing is seen, except some huge eagle, 
 sailing by on broad wings, above Lost Kiver, a flying fallow 
 
 * The description of this singular place is token, almost word for word, from K«rohe> 
 Y»i's " History of the Valley. "—Appendix, page 465 ;— heading " TM DtoU'i Garden*" 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY. COURT. 819 
 
 deer, 01 3. bear, slowly shaking his black bead, and vanish- 
 ing in tlie tangled thickets of the mountain side. 
 
 The sun slowly sinks, and his last beams linger on the 
 weird-looking statue, and the vast mass of piled up granite 
 which soars above. 
 
 The wild scene, with its billowy ranges, and glimmering 
 torrents grows wilder — the denizens of the night begin to 
 wake in their lairs and prowl abroad to seek their prey — 
 over the immense horizon, all bristling with jagged peaks 
 and precipices, the solemn grandeur, and rude magnificence 
 slowly yield to a brooding gloom, — the scene is i-n over 
 turned world, convulsed and shattered — the very genius ol 
 desolation descends and reigns, on his blood-red throne oL 
 mountains. 
 
 The blazing shield at last sinks beneath the horizon, and 
 night stretches its broad pall, prepared to throw it over the 
 whole. 
 
 At this inomont a slight rustling might have been heard 
 at the entrance to the caverns, on the declivity of the peak, 
 and a swarthy face appeared at the opening, followed ere 
 long by a strange and repulsiv e -l oking figure, which re- 
 mained for a time motionless in the gathering gloom. 
 
820 
 
 FAIRFAX ; OR. 
 
 CHAPTER LXL 
 
 THE HALF^ttEED. 
 
 HE figure which thus obtruded itself upon tht 
 wild scene, belonged apparently to no nation or 
 class, if, indeed, to the race of human beings! 
 It was nevertheless possessed of a revolting in- 
 terest, and a lover of the horrible and picturesque united 
 would have feasted his eyes upon the animal. 
 
 He was a half-breed, about five feet high, with a deep yel- 
 low, or sallow complexion, a gigantic breadth of chest, long 
 monkey-like arms, and legs which resembled the crooked 
 and gnarled boughs of a distorted oak. His forehead was 
 scarcely an inch in height; his small eyes, as cunning and 
 cruel as a serpent's, rolled beneath bushy brows; his nose 
 was crooked like a hawk's bill, and the hideous mouth, 
 stretching almost from ear to ear, was disfigured with pro- 
 truding tusks like those of a wild boar. The half-breed was 
 clad a& an Indian, with doeskin leggins and breeches, but 
 hi^ rugged chest and shoulders were bare. His enormous 
 fiat feet were cased in huge moccasins; and in his belt he 
 carried a knife, a horseman's pistol, and a tomahawk, to the 
 unwiped edge of which still clung a quantity of bloody hu- 
 man hair. 
 
 Such was the figure which now cautiously emerged from 
 the cavern, and cast a keen and searching glance upon the 
 panorama of forest, mountain and river. This look seemed 
 to plunge into the obscurest depths of the gorges, beneath 
 the heaviest foliage, and to descry every object within the 
 rantre of human vision. 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 821 
 
 " All's safe so far !" muttered the half-breed in a guttural 
 and discordant voice, with a slight French accent ; " they 
 have either not followed us, or the trick has deceived them. 
 We may lay low here a day or two safely, until the alarm haa 
 blown over — then to work again !" 
 
 As he spoke, with a sneering and horrible smile, a light 
 hand was laid upon his shoulder. He started and turned 
 suddenly, half drawing his long knife. Then at sight oi 
 the intruder on his reverie, he returned the weapon slowly, 
 as if against his will, to its place, and said sullenly, with an 
 unconscious scowl, full of hatred and menace : 
 
 " What does the son of War Eagle want with me ?" 
 
 "I would speak to the Yellow Serpent," said a grave, col- 
 lected voice in the Indian tongue; "the day is done, and 
 the hour has come for talking." 
 
 With these words the young Indian, Lightfoot, who was 
 the intruder, leaned back against the rock, and fixed hig 
 eyes upon the threatening countenance of his companion. 
 
 Lightfoot was clad as we have seen him on a former oc- 
 casion. His slender but nervous limbs, with their rounded 
 but clearly defined muscles, were cased in pliant doeskin ; 
 his narrow feet, with the lofty, instep, based themselves 
 firmly on the crag ; above his forehead waved the variegated 
 plume which indicated his chiefship. There was the same 
 calm air of grave, almost melancholy dignity — the same 
 clear yet mild expression in the eyes ; as before, his figure, 
 and attitude, and whole bearing were characterized by the 
 simple and exquisite grace of a nobleman of the great for- 
 ests. 
 
 "And what does Lightfoot come to say? — talk it out I" said 
 the discordant voice, which attempted to assume an accent 
 of friendly interest ; " the time is passing, and much must 
 be done." 
 
 "Will the serpent return to the war-path again?" said 
 lightfoot as before in the Indian tongue — then, with a sud« 
 den change in his expression, from gravity to scorn, he ad- 
 
322 
 
 FAIRFAX ; OR, 
 
 ded, ' but there is no war trail ! The brakes are on the 
 path to the cabins of women and childen. The white war- 
 riors are away, and the Catawbas creep over the fences in 
 the night — they are rabbits, not panthers !" 
 
 And the lip of the Indian curled. His words produced a 
 strong effect on the half-breed. The snake-like eye flashed 
 fire, and with a guttural sound like the growl of a wild an- 
 imal, he laid his hand on his knife, and seemed about to 
 throw himself upon the .speaker. 
 
 The young Indian did not move a muscle, or remove his 
 scornful eyes from the face of his companion. With a 
 movement wholly simple and unostentatious, he rested his 
 hand on the hilt of a long poniard in his belt, and contin- 
 ued to gaze at the other. 
 
 "Does Lightfoot know what he is saying?" said the 
 half-breed, growling and letting his hand fall. 
 
 " Yes, the truth," was the reply. 
 
 "/am one of these Catawbas." 
 
 " I know that you are." 
 
 " And you tell me to my face I am a rabbit: you dare ?" 
 "I dare!" said Lightfoot, with superb scorn, "it is little 
 to dare !" 
 
 Again the hand of the Yellow Serpent wandered to his 
 weapon : but he seemed to want courage to attack his ad- 
 versary. A glance at the precipice near which they were 
 standing — a glance as rapid as lightning, and full of horri- 
 ble menace — betrayed the thought which passed through 
 his mind. But it was not carried into act. The young man 
 seemed to exert a singular influence over him — he evidently 
 hated him bitterly, but he cowered almost before his eye, 
 and yielded in the contest. The threatening scowl disap- 
 peared : the hand fell again : with a grin which was even 
 more repulsive than the frown, he said, in a wheedling and 
 insinuating voice : 
 
 " Lightfoot is bold and outspoken as he has always been 
 *-«s his great father was before him, for whom twelve tribes 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 323 
 
 mourned when the blood ran out of his brave bosom. Bui 
 let the Yellow Serpent give Lightfoot a piece of advice. 
 These words are dangerous, and the warriors would want t« 
 kill him. They are nothing to the Serpent. He is a half- 
 breed, and knows more than the redfaces. He is Light 
 foot's friend and would serve him." 
 
 " Yellow Serpent," said the young Indian, returning U 
 his calm expression, " do you believe in the Great Spirit ?" 
 
 The half-breed grinned and replied: 
 
 " I believe in the Great Evil Spirit — what the palefaces 
 call the Devil — for he talks to me, and tells me what to do." 
 
 I believe that, Serpent. But there is a good Spirit, too, 
 and he is the bad Spirit's master." 
 
 The half-breed shook his head. 
 
 " Are you certain of that, Lightfoot ?" 
 
 u I am certain. It is Manitou — the great and good. The 
 Dove of the Mountain told me this long ago." 
 
 " Ah ! ah ! the Dove of the Mountain !" was the grinning 
 and sneering reply ; " you are a friend of the Dove !" 
 
 " I am. She has made me better. I am evil, but not so 
 much as I was." 
 
 " It is a pity that the- tribe took her prisoner. But whal 
 about the Great Spirit ?" 
 
 " I would ask if you think you do right, Yellow Serpent 
 when you put to death women and children ?" 
 
 " They are whites," said the half-breed with very great 
 surprise; "you see we strangle the brood when they are 
 voung, to get rid of them." 
 
 " You are cowards ! Yes, lache ! lache /" said the young 
 Indian with sudden vehemence, and using a term which he 
 had derived from the French allies of the savages, " lache ! 
 You are a dog, Yellow Serpent 1 But, no, not even doga 
 would be so cowardly 1" 
 
 And the young Indian's eyes were terrible for their depth 
 of indignation. The half-breed cowered before him, and 
 dared not speak. He seemed to want nerve. With a dark 
 
824 
 
 FAIRFAX J OR, 
 
 scowl, which had in it something tragic and dangerous from 
 its subtlety, and veiled menace, he muttered : 
 
 Lightfoot is a great sagamore. The Serpent is not as 
 noble as he is. Let Lightfoot speak." 
 
 "Listen, then, Yellow Serpent," said the Indian, stretch- 
 ing out his hand, and speaking in a voice of such nobility 
 and solemn earnestness that the furious and shuddering 
 half-breed was subdued by its very tones: " listen, Serpent, 
 and pay attention to what I am about to say. In this world 
 are two tribes of men — they are the evil and the good. 
 There is but one master over all, the Great Spirit. The Evil 
 One is his slave, but is not chained. It is his business to 
 make the tribes commit evil; and even now he is in your 
 heart, though you do not see him. But the Good Spirit is 
 not idle, or indifferent to the happiness of his creatures. He 
 is yonder in the clouds looking down, and watching. He 
 speaks in the thunder of the mountains — the lightning is the 
 flash of his eye; his finger marks the track of the rivers; he 
 is the Father of this world and its people. Not a tribe 
 roams the forest, from the sand hills of the mighty lakes, 
 to the Big Water of the South— -from the Minnehaha to the 
 land of Shawandasee — which is not beneath his eye. He 
 sends to all, the bright seasons, the moon of strawberries, 
 and the moon of cohonks ; — mondamin grows for all, and 
 plenty crowns the feasts of all the mighty tribes of the 
 beautiful world. But in these tribes there are some whom 
 the Master of Life looks on with smiles — there are others 
 upon whom he frowns. He frowns on the bad, on the cruel, 
 on the oppressors of the weak, on the slayers of women and 
 children ? Once these evil people made him angry, and the 
 sea swept over them — but the land was repeopled; then they 
 grew as evil as before. The Master sent his son to heal the 
 sick ones, and to make men pure again. They nailed him 
 on a cross, and killed him ! But before he died he told them 
 many things, and among the rest he said, 'Let the children 
 come to me — the Master loves them, and his land is f ull of 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 825 
 
 them. He lcrved them because they were weak and helpless 
 — and he told the tribes, not the redfaees only, but all, to 
 love each other, and forgive even their enemies. The Mas- 
 ter said that ! And now what are you doing, Yellow Ser- 
 pent? You are killing the women and the children who 
 never wronged you ; you are not even acting like a warrior, 
 and meeting the palefaced braves in battle, — you are lache I 
 lache 1 You have said rightly ! The Evil Spirit whispers in 
 your ear, and sets you to do his work I You are his slave, 
 Yellow Serpent." 
 
 And the young Indian, with a cold and collected air, 
 leaned back against the rock from which he had half risen 
 in the ardor of his address. 
 
 His words seemed to affect the half-breed strangely. A 
 sullen and gloomy expression came to his hideous features, 
 and ho cowered, almost. The young chief plainly exercised 
 a singular dominion over the monster. Then this sullen 
 air disappeared — a flash of concealed hatred darted from 
 his eyes — lastly, the former crafty and insinuating grin suc- 
 ceeded. 
 
 " Lightfoot is a great brave," he said; * the Serpent can- 
 not talk with the son of War Eagle. I think I will tell the 
 tribe what he says, and in future they shall spare the women 
 and children of the pale-faces, whom Lightfoot* loves better 
 than his own tribe. Oh, yes ! we will not kill any more !" 
 
 The Indian shook his head. 
 
 " Yellow Serpent," he said, " I know you very well, and I 
 do not trust you. The word of a brave is his word — yours 
 is the word of a half-breed. You hate me, and are envious 
 of me, because when we rise at the same moment to speak 
 to the tribe, the warriors say, ' Let us hear the son of War 
 Eagle.' You would destroy me — but I fear you not. Be- 
 ware 1 You have said that I love the pale -faces. That is 
 true. They are the children of the Great Spirit, like the 
 red-faces. They have been kind to me, and I will speak for 
 them as I have spoken to council. Enough* They are on 
 
FAIRFAX ; OB. 
 
 the warmth even now, and the bullet for jour tieart maf 
 be moulded. Yellow Serpent, you are evil; the Devil of the 
 whites, truly, is your friend. Beware of him — he will teai 
 you limb from limb, and devour you. I have spoken 1" 
 
 And turning away, the young Indian swept the landscape 
 with a comprehensive glance, and re-entered the cavern, 
 depths of which he disappeared. 
 
 The half-breed, who seemed to be agitated strangely, 
 though under a magnetic influence, remained motionleae. 
 This influence was slowly dissipated: his crafty grin re- 
 turned, and with a menacing flash of the glittering eyes, he 
 followed Lightfoot into the care. 
 
 For five minutes he had been covered by a dozen ri&ea, 
 from the depths of the opposite mountain, wbsr* Cto*Uia 
 Wagner and his party lay oonoa&lod. 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COUBT. 827 
 
 lxil 
 
 THE TRAIL. 
 
 HE party had sf t Dut from the " Three Oats ' in 
 twenty minutes after the arrival of Captain Wag- 
 ner. That worthy, who, now that the contest 
 was approaching, grew as cold and deliberate as 
 an automaton, would not wait for Lord Fairfax, and his 
 troop. In brief, quick words, he delivered his orders — ex- 
 plained that he was officially f-ommanding for the Earl, the 
 Lieutenant of the county— aud reviewed the arms and 
 equipments of the party. Th^y were hunters for the most 
 part, and carried rifles and powder-horns. Nearly every 
 one had his provision of jerked beef for the expedition. 
 
 The rapid examination having proved satisfactory, the 
 Captain took the head of the party, and directed his march 
 straight toward the Cedar Creek Mountain to the west, in 
 which direction his knowledge of the country and of the 
 habits of the Indians told him that the band had gone. 
 
 They marched rapidly and silently until noon without 
 finding any traces; but all at once they came upon a cabin, 
 rifled of its contents and half-burned. The fire had evi- 
 dently gone out, and a miserable-looking woman who had 
 escaped on the appearance of the savages, and only re- 
 turned when they went off, was crouching by the chimney 
 corner. Captain Wagner learned from her that his views 
 were correct in relation to the direction taken by the band, 
 and all set forward with new ardor. 
 
 They soon entered the wild range of the Cedar Creek 
 Mountain, and here, in the soft earth along the' stream, 
 
328 
 
 FAIRFAX; »B, 
 
 Btruck on an unmistakable trail. At points also distant onlj 
 a few yards from each other, the boughs were bent down 
 sfnd broken, and the prints of feet were easily traced in th« 
 earth. 
 
 Captain "Wagner pointed these out to Falconbridge. 
 
 " Miss Argal's," he said, briefly, indicating a deep, narrow 
 footprint; " and there's my friend's, broader and heavier." 
 
 They pushed forward with new ardor, and followed the 
 footprints for several miles. Then the Captain suddenly 
 drew rein, and exclaimed: 
 
 " Stop ! what's this V The marks are no longer to be 
 Been." 
 
 And the Borderer dismounted and examined the ground 
 in every direction. The female footprints had disappeared; 
 but in place of them were unmistakable indications of blood. 
 An ominous frown passed over the face of the Captain, and 
 he looked at Falconbridge. He was trembling. As to 
 * George, he was as pale as death. 
 
 "It's nothing," said the Borderer, assuming a stolid look; 
 " see, here are the broken boughs still." 
 
 In fact, these indications of the route which the band had 
 taken, as well as heavy moccasin footprints, were still visi- 
 ble. As the prisoners had undoubtedly resorted to this 
 device to direct the search of their friends, those prisoners 
 were yet alive. 
 
 " May the devil take me if I understand that !" said the 
 Captain, frowning, " but we'll push on." 
 
 The path now lay toward the north. They had fol- 
 lowed it for five miles, when it suddenly entered a stream a 
 hundred yards wide. Captain Wagner plunged in and 
 forded. On the opposite shore there was no sort of indica- 
 tion of the passage of the band. The broken bushes had 
 continued regularly to the stream — there they suddenly 
 stopped. 
 
 Could they have taken to canoes ? No, the band waa 
 evidently too numerous, and the savages could have brought 
 
THE MASTEK OF GKEENWAY OOUIIT. 329 
 
 none with them. What was the explanation? Why had 
 those marks disappeared? The Borderer knit his brows 
 and reflected ; then suddenly he pushed back through the 
 water and went straight to one of the limbs which had been 
 bent down and broken. He examined it attentively for an 
 instant, and then leaped into the saddle again. 
 
 "About face, friends," he said, "we are on the wrong 
 trail. Follow!" 
 
 And he set forward, quickly, returning over the ground 
 which they had just traversed. 
 
 "What is the meaning of this retreat, Captain?" said 
 Falconbridge, who seemed possessed by a sort of reckless 
 excitement, "we lose time." 
 
 " We have lost much," was the brief reply. 
 
 " Those broken boughs " 
 
 "Are devices. Look at 'em, Falconbridge! Don't you 
 perceive that they are thicker than any woman could break 
 — and more than one higher than any but a man could 
 reach ? Then observe how plain they are ! As much as to 
 say * Come on! don't mistake !' Prisoners never could have 
 broken 'em without being noticed — it's a blind,, and soon 
 you'll see !" 
 
 Without further words the Borderer pushed forward, 
 followed by the party, who knew him well, and did not 
 think it at all necessary to question him. They soon 
 reached the spot where the blood was visible, and the foot- 
 prints of the females disappeared. 
 
 "Friends,''* said the Borderer, after nosing the ground for 
 some moments, like a dog, and examining the dry grass and 
 twigs in every direction, "we are on the trail again. At 
 this spot the bloody rascals discovered the trick of the wo- 
 men to direct us, and one of 'em was struck with a toma- 
 hawk ! No blazing eyes Falconbridge, or George ! — maybe 
 it was a friend of mine ! If so, I'll hew down the devils to 
 the last man, or die ! But come ! The device is plain I The 
 women were taken up, or their shoes removed here; and the 
 
FAIRFAX ; OK, 
 
 fellows sneaked oil with 'em, leaving no tracks, while a pari 
 of the band went off north breaking limbs and stamping in- 
 to the ground to mislead us. When they came to the river, 
 they waded in the shallows for a mile, and then doubWl 
 back to join the main body." 
 
 "Why, there are no tracks here," said Falconbridge, 
 eagerly. 
 
 " That's so — to your eyes, it may be, comrade. But I can 
 see 'em. Look at that sprig of grass broken by a moccasin, 
 and see this stick ? Follow, friends ! I'm on the track — I 
 can smell 'em 1" 
 
 And the Borderer set forward rapidly. His predictions were 
 soon verified. At the distance of a quarter of a mile from 
 the bloody spot, the traces of feet again became visible, and 
 the narrow marks of high-heeled shoes. The pursuit was 
 now more rapid and sure. On the banks of Trout Eun thej 
 all at once found other footprints approaching from the 
 north; and Captain Wagner called the attention of Falcon- 
 bridge to the circumstance, with a significant look. 
 
 At the head of the stream, which the party reached, as 
 the sun began to sink, all the footprints disappeared again ; 
 but a curl of the Hp betrayed the feelings of the Borderer. 
 
 "They are a bungling set of rascals after all," he said; 
 "and don't know their trade, or I'm a dandy! Come, 
 friends, back !" 
 
 " Back, Captain 1" exclaimed Falconbridge, with sur- 
 prise. 
 
 "Yes, comrade — you are too curious for a hunter or a 
 war party. Come by my side, and I'll explain as I go." 
 
 The hunters had exhibited none of Falconbridge's sur- 
 prise. They obeyed implicity the directions of the Borderer, 
 and followed silently in the footsteps of his horse. Turn- 
 ing a huge shoulder of the mountain, he said to Falcon- 
 bridge as they proceeded : 
 
 " This is the whole thing, companion The red snakes 
 ha™ crawled into the caves on the Devil's Garden, three 
 
THE MASTER OF GREEHTWaV CODR1. 851 
 
 miles from the place we stopped at. If we bad gone on 
 they would have seen us, and perhaps laid an ambush for us. 
 At any rate, we could have done nothing." 
 
 " Yes, I see, but may I ask your plan ?" 
 
 "Certainly. You are my second in command, and it ia 
 simple. I am going to skirt this big shoulder, and mount 
 the peak yonder. From the top of it you will see the pre- 
 cipice of the Devil's Garden, in which the enemy are con- 
 cealed, not two hundred yards in front of you. A gulf sep- 
 arates it. But I know a way of passing over — there is a 
 path which is covered with pine bushes, winding down into 
 the gorge. As soon as night comes on, if we see good we'll 
 make the onset. I think the cards are pretty well shuffled, 
 and the game is about to begin, comrade !" 
 
 As he spoke, the Captain dismounted, and advised all 
 who were mounted to imitate him. He took the saddle 
 from the back of his horse, and hobbling his legs, turned 
 him loose into a little glen, where there was grass and 
 water. The rest did likewise : and then headed by the 
 Borderer, they cautiously wound up the precipitous moun- 
 tain, the summit of which they reached as the sun sank 
 from sight. 
 
 "Look, Falconbridge !" said Wagner, putting stealthily 
 aside the heavy pine boughs beneath which they were con- 
 cealed; "there are two of the red devils at the mouth of the 
 Devil's Cave!" 
 
 As we haye seen, these were Lightfoot and the Hali 
 breed. 
 
882 
 
 FAIRFAX; 01. 
 
 LXHL 
 
 LIGHTF00T AND C ANNIE. 
 
 HE interior of the cavern presented a singula! 
 
 appearance. 
 
 A bright fire was burning, and on all sides were 
 piled up articles which the savages had carried 
 off with them from the plundered dwellings . These objects 
 were indicative of the mingled barbarism and childish sim- 
 plicity of the Indians. There was much gaily-colored 
 crockery; many bright linsey and other fabrics were seen 
 scattered about; and a few strings of beads, and brass rings, 
 taken from the dead bodies of the women whom they had 
 slain, and brought, not without unwillingness, to the general 
 mass, were the objects of longing and covetous glances. 
 
 The Indians were forty or fifty in number, and were scat- 
 tered about the large cavern in various attitudes, pictur- 
 esque and graceful, or odd and grotesque. Here a great 
 warrior was broiling a piece of venison at the blazing fire in 
 the centre, the savory odor diffusing itself throughout the 
 cave: — there an Indian boy was striving to put together the 
 broken pieces of a red crockery dish^ which he had guarded 
 on the march with a jealous care which indicated the high 
 ^alue which he placed upon it. In a corner a number oi 
 the braves were sleeping tranquilly in the' red light, the 
 blood of the slain still staining their tomahawks, and more 
 thai, one gory scalp hanging from their girdles, but slum- 
 bering, nevertheless, like infants, under the stupefying 
 effects of a long march, a heavy meal, and some rum which 
 they had taken from the Ordinary, 
 
THE MASfER OF oREENWAY COURT. 333 
 
 In an obscure corner to which the light of the fire scarce- 
 ly penetrated, a number of captives, male and female, with 
 their hands securely tied, were huddled together upon the 
 the floor of the cavern, under a guard, who watched them 
 with grave intentness. Neither Monsieur Jambot nor 
 Major Hastyluck was visible, however : — and we may aa 
 well say here that these worthies had been " pricked on- 
 ward " under heavy loads, by another portion of the band, 
 who had hurried westward, and were never more heard of in 
 that region. Hastyluck, doubtless, drank punch among the 
 Sioux and Catawbas — when he could get it — for the re- 
 mainder of his life : and Monsieur Jambot taught the minuet 
 and reel to youthful savage maidens. 
 
 Lightfoot passed through the group, who made way for 
 the young chief with evident respect, and slowly ascended 
 the rugged stairway into the next cave above. 
 
 In this were confined, under guard of a single Indian, who 
 stood outside, Mrs. Butterton, Miss Argal, and Cannie. 
 
 The two former were sleeping, wrapped in shawls, near a 
 blazing fire, on piles of dry grass which had been arranged 
 for them — their feet swollen and frayed by the long journey 
 — their skirts cut oft below the knees — a necessity to facili- 
 tate their movements.* 
 
 Mrs. Butterton was slumbering fitfully; her dress was 
 stained with blood, and a wound was visible upon one of 
 her large fat arms; from which wound, indeed, had flowed 
 the blood which the pursuing party discovered at the point 
 uf divergence of the two routes. The dame had been dis- 
 covered bending down and breaking the branches, and one 
 of the chiefs had struck her with his tomahawk. The 
 wound was not dangerous, however. She slept uneasily, 
 but evidently without much physical pain. But, from time 
 to time, her features would become distorted by an expres- 
 
 * See Kercheval in many places- This was a systematic practice among the Indians 
 with their female captives. 
 
FAIRFAX; OR, 
 
 sion of fear, and she would raise her hands wildly and mur- 
 mur some broken and indistinct words, which the young 
 Indian sentinel would listen to with grave interest. Miss 
 Argal slept as quietly and sweetly as a child. 
 
 Cannie was awake, and when the light tread of the youn^ 
 Indian attracted her attention, the little face became 
 brighter, and she held out her hand to Lightfoot with the 
 air of a child who sees a protector approach. The smile 
 with which she greeted him was inexpressibly sad; but hie 
 presence was evidently a comfort to her. 
 
 " Oh, I am so glad to see you, Lightfoot !" she said, wip- 
 ing away two tears which hung like dew-drops upon her 
 fye-lashes; "this place frightens me, and it is like home to 
 iee you." 
 
 The word home seemed to direct the girl's thoughts to her 
 grandfather, and with a sudden rush of blood to her cheeks, 
 she placed both hands upon her face and sobbed. 
 
 " Oh, me ! they have killed him ! they have killed him !" 
 
 Lightfoot stood for a moment, silently regarding the girl 
 as she half reclined upon the couch of dry grass, her frame 
 shaken by sobs, her breast heaving, her long chestnut curia 
 falling wildly about her shoulders. An expression of un- 
 speakable love and tenderness came to his eyes ; and he 
 seemed unable for the moment to command his voice. 
 
 He controlled his emotion, however, with the wonderful 
 art of his race, and made a movement of his hand toward 
 the young Indian who stood on guard. 
 
 " Go," he said, in the Catawba tongue, " I would speak 
 with the captive." 
 
 The sentinel obeyed with an alacrity which indicated per- 
 fect willingness to join his companions below, and disap- 
 peared. The cavern was left thus untenanted except by the 
 two persons, and the sleepers, whose heavy breathing in- 
 vaded the silence. 
 
 Lightfoot took the hand of the girl in his own, with ia 
 air of the deepest respect, and said, mildly : 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COtJftT. Stfo 
 
 "No, they have not killed your grandfather, Mountain 
 Dove. You know that I came from the forest as the Ca- 
 tawbas made their attack. Had I arrived sooner," added the 
 young Indian, raising his head proudly, " it would nevei 
 have happened, for they obey the son of War Eagle. I 
 came in time to stop the knife which would have scalped 
 the old man : — he is scarcely injured, and will soon walk the 
 mountain again." 
 
 " Oh, are you sure, Lightfoot ?" cried Cannie, removing 
 her hands quickly, and raising her wet face, " are you sure r 
 Dear Lightfoot! you love Cannie — do you not? Do not 
 deceive me ! I am only a child," she added, weeping silent- 
 ly, " and very weak, but I can bear it — I won't cry ! Are 
 you certain that grandpa was not killed ?" 
 
 " He was only wounded, and not badly. I struck down 
 the arm of the warrior who would have scalped him; and 
 you know the tribe directly commenced their march." 
 
 There was an air of such simplicity and sincerity about 
 the young Indian as he spoke, that his words carried con- 
 viction to his hearer. Her eyes sparkled with sudden de- 
 light, her breast was filled with a long, deep breath, which 
 seemed to afford her inexpressible relief, and seizing the 
 Indian's hand, she exclaimed with touching earnestness 
 and affection : 
 
 "How can I ever love you enough, dear Lightfoot, for 
 protecting grandpa ? I will love you until I die !" 
 
 And carried away by glad emotion, before he was con- 
 scious of her intention, Cannie raised the hand which she 
 held to her lips, and imprinted upon it a long, lingering 
 kiss. 
 
 A shudder of delight ran through the frame of the young 
 Indian. His face flushed, and the eyes which were gener- 
 ally so calm and clear, suddenly filled with impetuous 
 emotion. A thrill of happiness agitated his pulses, at tha 
 contact )i the soft, warm hps, and he drew away the hand, 
 
836 
 
 FAIRFAX; OR, 
 
 with a look of such unspeakable tenderness that C&nnii 
 colored to tne roots of her hair. 
 
 That look had revealed to her in an instant, with the ra- 
 pidity of lightning, as it were, the secret of the young 
 Indian. For years she had known that he had a deep 
 affection for her — from her childhood he had visited tho 
 mountain cottage regularly, and always exhibited his fond- 
 ness — but now she saw plainly that there was a deeper feel- 
 ijng in his heart. The instinct of womanhood explained all 
 this to her — she saw for the first time, with agitated eyes, 
 that the young Indian loved her as a youth loves a maiden. 
 
 And Lightfoot was not backward in discerning the new 
 relations which must exist from that moment between him- 
 self and Cannie. He saw that his glance had betrayed him, 
 that she had witnessed his tremor of delight — that she had 
 understood at last his real feelings. They had grown up 
 together, as youth and child — they were no longer such. 
 It was a man who was sitting beside the woman whom he 
 loved with a devotion and tenderness which absorbed his 
 very being, 
 
 For some moments deep silence reigned in the cavern. 
 Both were too much overcome to speak. A vague pain and 
 pity, not unmingled with tenderness, filled the bosom of 
 the young girl; and from time to time, she stole a furtive 
 glance at the Indian, her cheeks burning with blushes, her 
 lips trembling. Never had she looked so beautiful as at 
 that instant. The curls of her chestnut hair fell in glossy 
 masses around the pure young face with its innocent and 
 grave sweetness — the slender figure inclined side wise, in an 
 fittitude of exquisite grace — the head was bent over the left 
 shoulder, and nearly rested upon it: — in outline and car- 
 riage, in the entire character and expression, of the girl, 
 there was no longer anything of the child: it was a woman, 
 and a woman of surpassing loveliness, who had burst into 
 bloom — passed suddenly from the bud to the perfect flower 
 Had sorrow oaused thi* rapid development ? It may havi 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 837 
 
 been so. But often a similar phenomenon taires place with- 
 out any visible reason. 
 
 It was then that the young Indian proved the nobility of hig 
 nature. Instead of taking her hand, he drew his own away. 
 Instead of gazing into the blushing and agitated face, to 
 discern if his feelings were returned, he lowered his eyes 
 For some moments his gaze remained fixed upon the floor 
 of the cavern, and the heaving muscles of his chest alone 
 indicated the terrible war of emotion in his bosom. 
 
 When he raised his head he had become calm again. 
 There was no longer any light in his eyes, any flush in his 
 cheeks; and the lips were firm again. A grave sweetness 
 and serenity, just tinged with melancholy, had replaced the 
 sudden rush of ardent emotion. It was the face full of seri- 
 ous and noble dignity to which she was accustomed : and 
 Cannie blushed again, as she looked into the clear eyes, as 
 the woman's thought came to her — he is so noble, and he 
 loves me ! 
 
 For some moments they sat gazing thus in silence at each 
 other. Then the young Indian gravely took her little hand 
 in his own, and pressed it to his lips, with the expression of 
 a devotee at the shrine of his saint. 
 
 " Lightfoot is a poor weak boy," he said, in a low voice, 
 which had not recovered its calmness wholly; "he has done 
 wrong. But the little Mountain Dove will forgive him — 
 will she not ?" 
 
 "Forgive you, Lightfoot?" murmured Cannie, almost in- 
 audibly, " why, what have you done ?" 
 
 "What was wrong," said the young man, shaking his 
 head, sadly. " I cannot conceal anything — my father al- 
 ways made me act honestly — I have tried to be the son of 
 War Eagle in truth, and this puts the words in my mouth. 
 I have done wrong, because I have spoken with my 
 eyes to the Dove, as a young pale-face may speak — and 
 said, £ I love you/ I am not a pale-face, I am a poor In- 
 dian, and inferior to the tribe beyond the Big Water. It if 
 15 
 
338 
 
 FAIRFAX j OR, 
 
 not right that my father's son should do this— that he 
 should come to the little white Dove when she has no 
 friend near her — when she is a captive in the hands of 
 Lightfoot's tribe — and say, ' I love you, and would have you 
 love me as your chosen warrior.' No, no," said the young 
 Indian, his cheeks filling in spite of every effort, and his 
 voice trembling, "that is wrong, and my father's spirit 
 frowns upon me froin the sky !" 
 
 And turning away his head, the speaker uttered a deep 
 sigh, which, but for his immense self-control, would have 
 turned into a groan. 
 
 The girl blushed and avoided his gaze as he spoke ; but 
 now recovering her voice, said in low, broken accents : 
 
 " You pain me, Lightfoot ! You hurt Cannie. Do not 
 talk thus. I am only a child, and you must love me as be- 
 fore — for — for — I love you dearly — dear, dear, Lightfoot!" 
 
 She had not intended it. She never would have uttered 
 the words had she reflected for a single instant upon the 
 meaning which he must attach to them. It was an impulse 
 of irresistible pity and kindness which carried her away — ol 
 woman's tenderness for one who loved her and suffered — 
 of admiration and old affection, and lonely weakness. She 
 burst into a flood of tears as she spoke, and then suddenly 
 drew her hand away. 
 
 The young Indian had seized it with passionate tender- 
 ness, and covered it with kisses. 
 
 "No — no!" she sobbed; "do not! do not, Lightfoot ! I 
 did not mean — how unhappy — how miserable I am !" 
 
 And the voice died away in an inarticulate murmur. The 
 Indian drew back, and folded his arms. He saw his terrible 
 error in an instant, and in its whole extent. His heart 
 turned cold, and with close-set teeth he remained as 
 silent and rigid as a statue, his dark eyes burning with 
 a fixed and immovable despair. The girl spoke first : 
 her voice was broken and agitated. Sobs interrupted it, at 
 every instant. 
 
THE MASTER OF GREEWAY COURT. 
 
 330 
 
 " I was — -wrong : it was cruel to — mislead yon. I will 
 not affect — any ignorance of your meaning! Will you— 
 pardon me? I am not strong and calm like you, Light- 
 foot," she continued, wiping her eyes, and continuing mora 
 calmly, "I am only a child, and I could not help saying 
 how much I — loved you, as my dear, dear friend and play- 
 mate, at our dear little home ! I did not think — but I will 
 not speak of that any more! Indeed, you are very dear 
 to me, for you have been kind and good to me always, 
 »nd to grandpapa, and I admire, and look up to you, Light* 
 foot. I am only a child yet, and not a woman. You will 
 love me, will you not, as a child — as you always loved me — 
 and I will love you. You'll be my brother and friend, will 
 you not, Lightfoot ?" 
 
 And Cannie, with all the simplicity and innocence of a 
 child, looked into the young Indian's agitated face, smiling 
 through her tears, and appealing to him, as it were, for car© 
 and protection. 
 
 A last contraction of the Indian's features betrayed the 
 depth of the despair which he controlled with a will of iron, 
 He had conquered himself. His face grew calm and grave 
 again — he returned the confiding look of the girl with one 
 of brotherly kindness and affection. 
 
 " I thank the Great Spirit, who has blessed the poor son 
 of War Eagle with these moments," he said, raising his 
 noble head and eyes toward heaven, " I thank the Master of 
 Life more than all for placing me where I may show the 
 young Dove of the mountain that I am her friend. Let her 
 cease to remember the wild words which Lightfoot has ut- 
 tered — they came from his lips without asking him to let 
 them.- But the blood shall flow out of his heart as readily 
 for the Dove who has spoken to him so kindly. Yes, yes, I 
 tvill be your friend, Mountain Dove — the hour is near when 
 I will prove it. Forget now the words I have spoken, and 
 sleep. But pray for the poor son of War Eagle first." 
 
 "Oh, yep X i Cannie, wiping away her tears, "let us 
 
840 
 
 FAIRFAX ; OR, 
 
 pray together as we have often done at home, Light- 
 foot!" 
 
 And taking the Indian's hand, the young ghl knelt at nil 
 side, and inunnured a prayer for him, for her grandfather. 
 
 and for all "whom she loved. 
 
 It was a touching spectacle, to see the young man and 
 the girl thus kneeling beside each other in the gloomy 
 cavern, only half revealed by the stray gleams of the dying 
 tire. They were of different and hostile races — they were 
 in deadly peril — the hours that came rapidly would decide 
 life or death for them — but they prayed They prayed as 
 tranquilly and hopefully, their hunble prayer, as though 
 they knelt at home in the little mountain dwelling. And 
 mortals may do as much everywhere. 
 
 TVhen Lightfoot slowly retired, his face was quite cairn. 
 His great soul was untroubled. He had yielded his heart 
 and future to the " Master of Life," and was tranquil. 
 
 Fifteen minutes after he had disappeared down the stair- 
 case, the Half-breed, "who had been concealed in a dark 
 nook at the entrance, glided out. and entered the c&Tern 
 from which he had just emerged. 
 
THE MASTER OP GREENWAT COUBT. 84] 
 
 LXIV. 
 
 rHE SLAVE AND HIS MISTRESS. 
 
 l 
 
 pg^f XHAUSTED by the painful conflict of emotion, 
 in the scene with Lightfoot, Cannie had quickly 
 followed his injunctions, and fallen asleep. 
 When the Half-breed stole, with the stealthy 
 step of a creeping tiger, into the apartment, the girl was 
 lying upon her couch of dry grass, and breathing regularly 
 as she slumbered. The hideous being paused for a moment 
 upon the threshold; and then, with a cowed and humble 
 air, approached the group, his eyes fixed on the form ol 
 Miss Argal. 
 
 This man, if he may be called such, was one of those 
 strange and anomalous beings who appear from time to 
 time on the earth, to falsify, it would seem, every rule and 
 maxim in relation to human character. Deformed in body 
 and mind — a revolting monster to the eye, and no less a 
 repulsive object to the mind — he yet possessed a strange 
 sensitiveness to beauty and nobility, and cowered before 
 them as a slave before the whip of the master whom he re- 
 cognizes. We have seen that in the interview with Light- 
 foot, the Half-breed, in spite of his hatred and jeaiousyj 
 was unable to meet the eye of the young chief. The j)res- 
 ence of the son of War Eagle defeated all his calculations — 
 his influence in the tribe was seriously lessened —the youth 
 had called him a slave, and what was more terrible still, had 
 used the word which made his blood boil within him — the 
 word " lache !" Yet in spite of all this, in spite of his most 
 powerful efforts, he had been compelled, by some irresistible 
 power, to crouch before the youth, and bend his back to the 
 
842 
 
 FAIRFAX , OR. 
 
 lash, and submit his own will to the nobler nature of hit 
 insulter. 
 
 This singular submission of the lower nature to the higher, 
 now influenced him in his feelings for Miss Argal. His 
 training and previous life had all tended to degrade the fe 
 male sex in his mind. Among the Indians they were 
 scarcely more than beasts of burden, and to say that he 
 resembled a woman was the most terrible insult that could 
 be inflicted on a brave. Nevertheless, the young lady ruled 
 him despotically from the first moment of their meeting. 
 Her strange and extraordinary beauty, the brilliant fascina- 
 tion of her eyes, her exquisite grace of attitude, and undula- 
 ting movements, all impressed him deeply, and made his 
 pulses throb. He had killed her father with his own hand, 
 and quartered the body. It was the Half-breed who stuck 
 the bleeding head upon the stake, and inflicted a last gash, 
 as he danced gaily around it, like a goblin of darkness. It 
 was his iron clutch which had dragged Miss Argal from her 
 chamber, into the light, and his tomahawk had been lifted 
 above her head, to dash her brains out. 
 
 The tomahawk had not fallen. The torches had no 
 sooner poured their bloody light upon the beauty of the 
 young lady, than true to his strange instinct, the Half-breed 
 recognized his superior. His arm fell — he recoiled, as it 
 were, before her; and then, thrilling with a vague and 
 secret pleasure at the thought that she was in his power, 
 he had protected her from insult and injury, with the fury 
 of a father who guards the person of his beloved daughter. 
 
 At the thought that she was in his power ! Such was really 
 the first reflection of the Half-breed — the flattering unction 
 which he laid to his fierce and degraded soul. He soon dis- 
 covered that their relative positions were reversed. He was 
 the slave of her beauty and exquisite grace, and lik<> a slave 
 he applied himself to the task of waiting on his mistress. 
 The burdens which the tribe had placed upon Miss Argal'e 
 pretty round shoulders, and beneath which she had bent 
 
TRS MASTER OF GREENWA.Y OOUBT. 843 
 
 down, ciying, were indignantly removed. He took them on 
 his own enormous back, to appease the Indians, and walked 
 by her side, grinning hideously, and conversing with the 
 captive. 
 
 She had soon discovered the influence which she pos- 
 sessed over her conqueror, and had applied herself to the 
 task, throughout the march, of deriving benefit from it 
 Fortunately, a falsehood of the Half-breed prevented the 
 poor girl from being bowed down to the ground by the hor- 
 rible recollection of her father's dissevered body. She had 
 been removed from the building before the Half-breed slew 
 him; and the monster coolly informed her that he had 
 escaped in the darkness, and was unhurt. Thus, Miss 
 Argal, unoppressed by this terrible tragedy, and convinced 
 that her father, whom she loved dearly, was safe, gave 
 her attention to the conquest of her captor, without effort. 
 She had dazzled him with the magnetic lustre of her eyes ; 
 sent a shiver through his deformed and rugged frame, by 
 touching his huge, knotty hand with her own little white 
 one, as soft as satin; she had smiled, upon the Half-breed, 
 as she alone knew how to smile; and very soon perfected 
 her conquest. Before they reached their place of conceal- 
 ment, she had not only secured for herself every comfort 
 and convenience, she had also induced her slave to treat 
 Cannie and Mrs. Butterton without cruelty, even respect- 
 fully. She would pass her arm around Cannie when the 
 child grew faint, and send the Half-breed to the stream to 
 procure water for her. He was her captive, and she used her 
 power to ameliorate the condition of her companions, with 
 whom she shared every comfort. 
 
 And on all this, the strange being had looked with appro- 
 bation and a species of pleasure. It evidently delighted 
 him to humble himself before the beautiful woman. He 
 seemed thus to approach nearer to her. He was less her 
 abhorrence when she smiled on him, than when she trem- 
 bled before him, and recoiled as his captive. And here w« 
 
844 
 
 FAIRFAX; OR, 
 
 notice another trait in this bloody animal. His physical 
 deformity had been, throughout his life, as sore a point 
 with him as a clubfoot or a cast in the eye is to a beau or a 
 fashionable young lady. He had found himself the terror 
 and horror of the Indian maidens. They retreated hast:!;, 
 when he approached them and avoided any chance of inc. ; 
 ing him. One and all of them had striven vainly to concc... 
 the mingled fear and disgust which they felt for his person, 
 with its crooked, gnarled limbs, its gigantic torse, its low. 
 flat forehead, wide mouth, and protruding tusks. He had 
 loved one of these maidens — as he could love — as her slave. 
 Her beauty had attracted him and he had sued for her hand; 
 but the maiden had almost fainted when his sallow face ap- 
 proached her own — when his huge mouth expanded into a 
 hideous grin of servile admiration. When he took her hand 
 in his great rugged paw, on which the black veins stood out 
 like whip-cords, she had shuddered, and drawn it hastily 
 away. When he pressed her to tell him what her feeling 
 toward him was, she had replied, with a trembling voice, 
 that she was afraid of him ; but he read in her pale, sick face 
 that she regarded him with irresistible disgust. 
 
 Suck had been the weakness, such the fortune of the Half 
 breed throughout his life. He had early left the peaceful 
 home of his tribe, and joined the predatory band of the Ca- 
 tawbas. On the war-path, in the midst of blood and peril, 
 his deformity would not be observed. His great strength 
 and ferocity had soon gained for him a conspicuous position 
 in the tribe. He became a chief, and was what in other 
 walks of life we would call a rapidly rising man. But the 
 recollection of his deformity never left him. He yearned 
 for some object upon which to expend his pent-up feelings. 
 "What those feelings were he never stopped to inquire, nor 
 do we feel able to describe them. The Half-breed was a 
 monster of ferocity and blood, but he was still human, and 
 not wholly destitute of human emotion. At times his crav- 
 ing for something — if only an animal — to love him, wu 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 846 
 
 enormous, irresistible almost. He would remain for dayi 
 in his wigwam, scarcely tasting food, brooding over bis con- 
 dition, and struggling in bis benighted and sullen . mind to 
 understand wby be bad been created, and whar bis life 
 would be. When be came forth, and the tribe whispered 
 and nodded at him, and followed him with their eyes as his 
 squat figure went by — muttering fearfully that the Yellow 
 Serpent had been communing with spirits — he would gnash 
 nis teeth with scorn, and despise the shallow fools, and feel 
 that lie was alone in the world. Then he would return to 
 the war-pajth with a bloody ardor, which struck terror into 
 all hearts; he would slay women and children without mer- 
 cy;, he would reap undying honor from his associates — to 
 go back and writhe and growl in his den like a wounded 
 wild animal, whose body is festering with poisonous blood 
 and corruption. 
 
 This was the thorn in the ferocious soul of the Half-breed 
 — the secret wound which made him mad with pain almost. 
 He knew his own mental and physical deformity, the dis- 
 gustingly hideous body and mind which he possessed; and 
 he cowered before those who were superior to him. He 
 crouched in the presence of a pure and noble soul like 
 Lightfoot's. He obeyed with the alacrity of a slave the 
 commands of the beautiful woman who was in his power. 
 He waited upon her, and followed her directions like a ser- 
 vant. It is true that at times, as he had attempted in the 
 presence of Lightfoot, he would struggle to assert the supre- 
 macy which he really possessed — the power which he could 
 exert over the band — his authority; but the endeavor was 
 vain. True to his instinct, as we have said before, he would 
 yield in the struggle, bow his head before what he recog- 
 nized as above him, and take the position of the slave agahij 
 awaiting tne order of his superior. 
 
 Thus the Half-Breed was almost delighted when Misa 
 Argal commanded him to do anything. Her subtle instinct 
 soon taught her that this was the best manner of treating 
 35* 
 
348 
 
 FAIRFAX ; OB, 
 
 him. The penetrating eyes of the young lady discerned the 
 secret of her power, and she was not backward in availing 
 herself of it. His respect and submission seemed to increase 
 with her arbitary demeanor. There was a strange charm., 
 too, in thus humbling the master of her fate. As we have 
 already said, she used her power like a kind, tender woman, 
 to soften the lot of her companions, especially Cannie. She 
 had taken a strong fancy to the child indeed, and supplied 
 her with every comfort she had. She took off her own 
 wrapping and threw it around the little shoulders, and 
 seemed really distressed when Cannie would not receive it. 
 At least the girl should have everything which she could 
 procure for her, however; and the slave-master, the Half- 
 Dreed, was calmly directed to bring this or that object foi 
 Cannie, and attend to all her wants and even wishes. The 
 savage would grin and hasten to obey. His reward was 
 the approving smile of his empress — that smile which said 
 to him, as he basked in it with fierce pleasure, u Others may 
 think you are hideous and repulsive, but I am fond of you, 
 because you comply with my wishes." It was the long 
 sought balm for his degraded soul— the salve which softened 
 his festering wound. He could thus forget for a time his 
 debasement, and submit his fierce head, like a conquered 
 wild animal, with grumbling delight, to tl" e soft white hand 
 which caressed it without fear or disgust. 
 
 Once arrived at their place of concealment, the Half-breed 
 had applied himself assiduously to the task of making th6 
 young lady's retreat, and that of her companions, as comfort- 
 able as possible. He had gone to some distance and pro- 
 cured a large quantity of dry grass for their couches. This 
 he had arranged in the most convenient manner; and then 
 he had brought a quantity of the linsey shawls which had 
 been stolen, to protect them from the cold air ol the cavern. 
 A fire had then been kindled, some supper brought, and the 
 savage had retired as a servant retires after fulfilling thi 
 commands of his mistress. 
 
THE MASTER OF GREEtfWAY COTJKT. 
 
 ffl 
 
 Every arrangement connected with the concealment of 
 the tribe had been hurried through by the Half-breed — 
 every trace of their presence obliterated. He had .finally 
 gone to make a last survey of the horizon, before returning 
 to the magnet which attracted him in the cavern above 
 W e have seen how he was detained by Lightfoot, how they 
 conversed for a time, and how the young Indian re-entered 
 first. When the Half-|3reed followed him, he found that he 
 had mounted to the upper cavern where the three females 
 were; and he stealthily glided up the staircase behind him. 
 Concealed in a dark nook of the cave he had heard the en- 
 tire conversation between Lightfoot and Cannie, had thrilled 
 with a strange awe as they prayed, and remained in his 
 place of concealment until the young Indian had retired, 
 and Cannie, as he knew by her regular breathing, was 
 asleep. 
 
 Be then entered and approached Miss ArgaL 
 
848 
 
 FAIRFAX : DB. 
 
 LXV. 
 
 CALIBAN AND MIRANDA. 
 
 HE young lady stirred in her sleep, and a trai&or 
 ran through her frame. The vicinity of the 
 crouching and hideous figure seemed to exert a 
 magnetic influence upon her. 
 The Half-breed remained for some time silent and mo- 
 tionless at her side, gazing with a species of ferocious and 
 yet servile admiration upon the beautifcl countenance, 
 around which fell the profuse ebon curls — afraid apparently 
 to awaken the sleeper. Finally he grew bolder ; he crawled 
 like a stealthy panther toward the pillow of the girl, and 
 took in his huge knotty fingers, one of the dark curls and 
 gazed at it with the air of a child who holds a toy which fills 
 it with delight. 
 
 The movement awoke the sleeper, and for an instant she 
 gazed with a dreamy air into the revolting mask, rather than 
 human countenance, upon which the red gleam of the fire- 
 light fell, lighting up every repulsive detail — thG snake-Kke 
 eyes, the grinning mouth, the hooked nose, and narrow fore- 
 head, like a dog's or an ape's. Another tremor ran through 
 Mib*s Argal's form, and she quickly ro^e, leaning upon one 
 hand, and looking silently at the Half-breed. In this gaze, 
 however, there was no trace of fear. Despite the wild and 
 frightful scene, the horrible appearance of the intruder, and 
 the half-darkness of the cavern, slip did not tremble or ex- 
 hibit any sign of terror. On the contrary, she recovered 
 almost instantly the air of mistress, which we have referred 
 to, and said in a tone of anger : 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 349 
 
 "Why did you come and wake me?" 
 
 The savage cowered, and retreating two paces, said hum- 
 bly, but cunningly : 
 
 "I came to see if the White Haven," such was tile Tiame 
 he had given her, " was well wrapped up and warm. Tht 
 cave is cold and damp — and she is weary with the journey." 
 
 " Well," said Miss Argal calmly, " you see tbit I am pro- 
 vided for — and now leave me." 
 
 The Half-breed made an unconscious motion to obey, fol- 
 lowing his instinct — but some other impulse counteracted 
 the first. 
 
 " Let us talk a little, first," he said, grinning with a polite 
 air. " Let the White Raven talk to the Yellow Serpent." 
 " I am weary." 
 
 " Nevertheless you must talk," returned the; Half-Breed 
 obdurately, " you are my captive, and I am not sleepy." 
 
 Miss Argal saw from the tone of these words that she had 
 lost a portion of her former power over him, and her mar- 
 velous tact made her instantly change her manner and ex- 
 pression. 
 
 " Well," she said, " if you treat me as your captive, I must 
 submit, and obey you. Of what shall we talk, Yellow Ser- 
 pent?" 
 
 The old fascinating glance which had charmed Falcon- 
 bridge came back ; and the dangerous smile of the dazzling 
 beauty played upon the ugly dwarf, as it had played upon 
 the young cavalier. The Half-breed thrilled with a vague 
 delight as she looked thus at him, and said : 
 
 " We will talk of the future, when you will be the Yellow 
 Serpent's wife." 
 
 Lt Your wife!" 
 
 " Yes," was the resolute, almost savage reply, " you shall 
 be my wife ! I have sworn it, and it shall be so. I am 
 unmarried, I am a great brave, and you shall be my wife, or 
 I will keep you from being any other warrior's wife — you 
 must die, or be mine I" 
 
S50 
 
 FAIRFAX; OR, 
 
 The ferocious eyes glared as lie spoke, and the lips curled 
 fiercely. Instead of becoming angry, Miss Argal smiled more 
 sweetly than before. The will of the strange animal pleased 
 her, whilst it put her upon her guard and aroused all her 
 ■finesse to meet the occasion. She assumed the pouting air 
 of a child, and with a glance filled with blandishment, said: 
 
 "Why do you wish to have me for your wife, Yellow Ser- 
 pent ? You say that you are a great brave, if so, why have 
 you not selected some maiden of your tribe?" 
 
 The hideous face was darkened: the eyes scowled bitterly: 
 
 " Because the maidens despise me, and get sick when I 
 go near them," he growled; " they are frightened by my 
 ugliness ! You only are not frightened, and I have sworn 
 by the Evil Spirit that you shall be mine, "White Raven — 
 mino only! You need not try to escape me! I will kill 
 myself rather, but I will kill you first. I will be your slave 
 if necessary — but rather than see you leave me, or spurn 
 me, I will plunge my knife into your heart, and we will die 
 together V s 
 
 He was ferocious, imperial, as he thus spoke. There waa 
 something almost attractive in the fierce animal's air. He 
 resembled an aroused tiger. It was the beauty of strength 
 and bloody determination. 
 
 And instead of frightening Miss Argal, it drew her. Her 
 feminine nature, in spite of the disgusting figure of the 
 speaker, recognized his power and passion. She looked at 
 him almost with pleasure, and said smiling : 
 
 " "Well, but suppose you were my husband, how could I 
 live away from home, in your land f 
 
 "You need not," returned the savage, returning to hia 
 submissive air, " I will follow you back and become a white. 
 Still there is much to make you go with me. I am no 
 common Indian. I am a great chief, and my squaw will be 
 a great woman in the tribe. She shall live daintily, every 
 one shall wait on her. I will be king in the band, but she 
 will be the king's king — his beautiful queen. The tendered 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 851 
 
 game shall be brought to the table of the White Raven— the 
 finest plunder shall be her own — the maidens shall dance 
 before her, and she shall wear the handsomest clothes] to be 
 got in the settlements." 
 
 " That is well;. I like that, but I cannot go." 
 
 "Why? You must 1" 
 , "I cannot." 
 
 " You shall !" 
 
 Miss Argal became submissive and tranquil. She put hei 
 Hands to her eyes and murmured : 
 
 " Why do you speak to me so cruelly ?" 
 
 Some sobs succeeded, and she looked through her tears 
 at the Half-breed, with such a lovely air of uncomplaining 
 sorrow, that he felt all his anger leave him. He cowered 
 before her, and said : 
 
 " The Yellow Serpent did not mean to make the White 
 Raven cry. He is her slave." 
 
 The young lady dried her tears, and shaking her head, re- 
 plied : 
 
 " You act like a master, and I no longer have any regard 
 for you. When you were kind to me, I liked you ; but now 
 I hate you." 
 
 And she turned away her head with an air of offended 
 dignity. The Half-breed was conquered by his captive. As 
 she yielded to his will, so now he submitted like a slave to 
 her displeasure. The resolute expression disappeared — his 
 eyes sank before her, and he said humbly : 
 
 "The Yellow Serpent did not mean to speak roughly. 
 He is no savage — he is almost a white, and knows how ten- 
 der-hearted the white maidens are. Let the White Raven 
 become the wife of the Serpent, and he will be her servant 
 for life. He is a Half-breed, he cares nothing for the Ca- 
 fcawbas. He will go and live like an Englishman in a house, 
 and hunt game, and till the ground, and wait on the Whifc* 
 Raven. He is her friend." 
 
 " You do not prove it," said Miss Argal, coldly. 
 
S52 
 
 FAIRFAX; OB, 
 
 " How must I?" 
 
 " Bescue me and my companions." 
 
 « When ?" 
 
 "To-night." 
 
 The savage hesitated and reflected. He evident^ doubted 
 " If I do so," he said at length, " will you go away with 
 
 me !" 
 
 It was Miss Argal's turn to hesitate — it was only for an 
 instant however. With her former fascinating smile shfl 
 said : 
 
 " I will go away with you." 
 " And be my wife ?" 
 " Yes," 
 
 The hideous mask flushed with joy, and a broad grin re- 
 vealed the long hog-like teeth. The young lady almost re- 
 coiled before the horrible countenance— ^she grew faint as 
 she saw the Half-Breed gaze upon her as a hawk does upon 
 a dove which he has nearly caught in his clutches. He 
 seized her hand, and would have pressed it to his ugly 
 month, but she suddenly drew it away, and said with a 
 quick return to her air of offended dignity. 
 
 " Let my hand go, and now let us talk of the means oi 
 escape. How will you devise it ?" 
 
 The Half-breed drew back humbly, and said : 
 
 " I must think of that. But it will be impossible to take 
 the others." 
 
 And he pointed to Mrs. Butterton and Cannie. Miss 
 Argal assumed an air of resolute determination, and replied: 
 " Then I will not go with you." 
 <• Not go!" 
 
 " No — unless you rescue them, too V 1 
 
 "Why, what do you care for them?" 
 
 " They are my friends — I love the little one dearly." 
 
 And bending over the young girl, she smoothed with a 
 soft hand Cannie's disordered tresses. Her smile, as she 
 thus caressed the little head, was one of exquisite sweetness, 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 353 
 
 and showed how much warmth of heart was concealed be- 
 neath the warped and strangely disturbed nature of tha 
 poor girl. Her savage companion was not unaffected joy the 
 manner of the young lady. He was evidently pleased, and 
 said at length : 
 
 " I will try. But you at least shall be rescued. I am 
 tired of my life in the band, and have been thinking that 
 you are right in wanting to return to the white settlements. 
 Yes, I will give up the war-path ! I will go back with you — 
 White Kaven, you shall make me a pale-face, like my father." 
 
 The snake-like eyes grew thoughtful, and even soft, as the 
 man spoke, and he plainly returned in memory to some 
 scene of the past. Miss Argal caught the changed manner, 
 with her quick and acute instinct, and said : 
 
 " Was your father a white V 
 
 " Yes," returned the Half-breed, " he was a hunter who 
 married an Indian girl, of the Catawbas. My mother died 
 when I was a baby, and my father soon afterward. The 
 tribe took me, and one day my old granny, who nursed me, 
 showed me where my father and mother were buried in the 
 woods by Belle Eiviere — which the English call the Ohio. 
 I never cried but once — I cried that day. Yes, I did cry 
 afterwards when granny was killed by a white — I split his 
 head with my tomahawk though ! I wanted him to come 
 to, afterwards, to stick burning splinters in his body, and 
 roast him till he yelled and died in the flames I" 
 
 The scowl had come back, — the bloody instinct was re- 
 vived: — but it disappeared again, very soon before the smiles 
 of his companion. She had evidently marshalled all of her 
 attractions for the task of subduing to her will, and making 
 a slave of, the singular being in whose power she found her- 
 self. No one could have discovered in her air or expression 
 the least indication of disgust, as she looked at and spoke to 
 him. Her smile was as dazzling, her eyes dwelt upon his 
 countenance with as pleased and gratified a look, as if it waa 
 the face of a gallant young gentleman, and not a sallow, do- 
 
854 
 
 FAIRFAX; OR, 
 
 formed apa In half an hour her dominie tx over him was 
 complete. He was gazing at her with a species of submis- 
 sive ecstasy: the soft hand, figuratively speaking, had 
 smoothed with its caresses the bristling head of the animal, 
 and with delighted growls, he crouched and cowered at the 
 feet of his mistress and keeper. 
 
 The details of the project of escape were quickly arranged. 
 At daylight the Half-breed would return to the cavern 
 where she slept — and pass through the fissure in the roof oi 
 the highest cave to the area above, with the three women- • 
 he would leave Mrs. Buttertonand Cannie at a place of safety, 
 near a neighboring fort, — and then he and Miss Argal would 
 proceed to a spot in the Alleghanies, where a New Light 
 missionary lived, and be married. Afterwards they would 
 seek the northern settlements. 
 
 This was the Half-breed's plan. It is unnecessary to say 
 that it was not Miss Argal's. Her design was to escape 
 without the assistance of the Half-breed ; — her colloquy 
 on the subject had a very simple object. That object was 
 the discovery of the means which her captor would make 
 use of to effect the escape. She had attained a knowledge 
 of all now: — the fissure in the upper cave would permit them 
 to pass: — and long before daybreak, they would all be far 
 away. 
 
 As this thought passed through her mind, Miss Argal be- 
 stowed upon the Half-breed, her most winning and confid- 
 ing smile. She graciously gave him her hand to kiss — sub- 
 nutted to the ceremony without moving a muscle — and then, 
 'ieclaring that she needed rest, smiled him out of the cav- 
 ern. 
 
 The animal went away, shuddering with ill-concealed de- 
 light, and gazing on the young woman until an abutment of 
 the rock hid her from his view. 
 
 With a sneering smile, Miss Argal then turned, and has- 
 tily, but with a wary hand, awoke her companions. 
 
THE MASTEB OF GREENWAY COURT. 356 
 
 LXVL 
 
 LIGHT SHINING IN DARKNESS. 
 
 HE three women consulted for some time m 
 animated whispers, and their plan was rapidlj 
 formed. 
 
 They would remain quiet until the Indians 
 went to sleep; and then, when the cavern was all silent, and 
 occupied only by slumbering forms, would steal up the 
 staircase into the cave above, ascend to the next, then to the 
 next — and finally make their exit through the fissure in the 
 roof of the last. Thereafter, escape would not be difficult. 
 As soon as day-light came they would be able to make their 
 way back by the path which they had followed in coming 
 — the broken twigs would direct them. 
 
 "And then, Cannie," said Miss Argal, placing her arm 
 around the girl, drawing the little head down to her bosom, 
 and kissing the white brow ; " then, Cannie, dear, you will 
 get back to your grandfather, and we will all be happy 
 again." 
 
 " Oh, yes ! I long to see grandpapa I" returned the girl, 
 clasping her hands; " he is miserable about me, I know, and 
 would be following me, if he had not been wounded — Oh ! 
 so cruelly wounded 1" 
 
 A sob accompanied the words. 
 
 ' There, don't cry," said the young lady, smoothing the 
 gill's curls, w hope for the best — and one thing which I rely 
 upon more than all, is just what you have spoken of — a par- 
 ty must be coming to rescue us. I know they are coming." 
 
 " Yes," said Mrs. Butterton, " Captain Wagner will not 
 gtfty long — but oh 1 my poor, poor father V 
 
366 
 
 FAIRFAX; OB, 
 
 And a sob, deeper than Cannie's, came from the "warm- 
 hearted woman's lips. 
 
 " Captain Wagner will surely come," said Miss Argal, a 
 shadow of anguish passing over her countenance, "and — Mr. 
 Falconbridge 1" 
 
 She paused a moment, overcome apparently by some cruel 
 memory: then controlling her emotion, added : 
 
 1 ; We must go, however, and meet them. That is part of 
 my plan. The Indians will follow us, unless they are afraid^ 
 but the pursuers will not suffer them to re-capture us." 
 
 " We will trust in God, at least," said Cannie, with touch- 
 ing simplicity; " you know if we trust in Him He will not de- 
 Bert us; and all He does is for the best." 
 
 Miss Argal did not reply. She seemed suddenly absorbed 
 in painful reflection, continuing to caress the girl's hair 
 Then she turned her dark eyes upon the little face, and 
 gazed at Cannie with au expression of such hopeless anguish 
 that it made the girl's countenance flush with pity and sym- 
 pathy. No one could have recognized in the changed fea- 
 tures of Miss Argal, the proud and imperial woman of the 
 past. The penetrating eyes no longer glittered with their 
 dazzling and seductive magnetism; the lips no longer curled 
 with disdain or provoking coquetry. The eyes were bathed in 
 moisture — the lips quivered. The drooping lashes nearly 
 rested upon the pale cheek; and as Cannie gazed, tear after 
 tear flowed silently down, and fell upon her upturned face. 
 
 "You are crying!" said the girl. " Oh! what are you cry- 
 ing for?" 
 
 The arm of the young lady tightened its fold around the 
 slender form, and bending down her head, she pressed a kiss 
 upon the girl's Hps, and burst into tears. 
 
 " I am crying because I am so bad, and you make me so 
 ashamed/ she said in a broken voice ; "lam so untruthful 
 and bad, and miserable ! Oh ! Cannie ! what you have said 
 breaks my heart ! — for I do not trust in God ! I have tried 
 but I cannot! I cannot! I am evil and miserable! and He 
 hates me I" 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 357 
 
 1 Oh, no !" returned the girl, mingling her tears with 
 those of her companion, " He does not hate you ! He can- 
 not, if you feel that you have done wrong and asl^ His for- 
 giveness I" 
 
 " I cannot ask it ! I am unfit to pray ! Once I prayed 
 at mamma's kiiees — but I have not prayed for years— I have 
 done so much evil ! But — but — Cannie — do you know 1 " — 
 
 And the poor girl sobbed convulsively. 
 
 " Do you know — I am — my mind is not sound — I am out 
 of my head — sometimes! — always, I think: — and I have 
 thought that He will pardon a poor — miserable — insane girl 
 — for her wickedness ! Oh ! teach me to pray, Cannie — you 
 pity me and do not turn away — I almost think God will for- 
 give me if you kneel and ask Him to. May I kneel down 
 with you?" 
 
 Cannie scarcely knew how, but in a moment she was 
 kneeling upon the floor of the cavern — between the two wo- 
 men in the same posture — and praying in a low, broken, but 
 earnest voice. She could not tell how the words came — she 
 did not hesitate an instant, nevertheless ; her prayer was 
 tearful, impulsive, and filled with deep feeling. 
 
 When she rose, Miss Argal leaned her head upon the ten- 
 der bosom, encircled Cannie's neck with her arm, and sob- 
 bing, exhausted, trembling with emotion, whispered faintly 
 in her ear: 
 
 " I think God has heard me, and forgiven me." 
 
 The dying firelight no longer fell upon a countenance full 
 of anguish and shame: — a sad smile played over the lips 
 and half-closed eyes : — the heart pressed to the heart of 
 the child, beat tranquilly. 
 
 At the same moment Lightfoot entered the o*w*a? 
 
858 
 
 FAIRFAX : OB. 
 
 LXVH 
 
 THE RIVAL OP THE HALF-BREED. 
 
 HE young Indian approached the group with the 
 silent tread of his race, and pausing before them, 
 folded his arms and said : 
 "I have come to show the Mountain Dove and 
 her companions that they have a friend." 
 
 Cannie raised her head eagerly, and fixing an earnest, 
 blushing look upon the Indian murmured : 
 " Will you go away with us, Lightfoot ?" 
 The Indian inclined his head. 
 
 " The tribe are going to sleep. Soon they will be slum- 
 bering. Then I will carry you off, an J place you on the 
 homeward path." 
 
 Cannie clasped her hands and g.'tzed so gratefully into 
 Lightfoot's face, that the bloGd rushed to his cheeks, and it 
 required all his self-control to suppress the tremor which 
 ran through his frame. He did suppress it, however : in a 
 moment he had recovered his presence of mind: and obey- 
 ing a gesture from the girl, he came silently, and sat down 
 near the group. 
 
 Their plans were quickly communicated to him, and the 
 expression of eye which greeted the announcement, was one 
 of unmistakable satisfaction. His reply was, that their 
 plan was his own. He had thought at once of the fissure 
 in the upper cave, and he came to prepare them for the 
 moment, when he would silently conduct them to the 
 place. 
 
 They conversed thus for a quarter of an hoar in whis- 
 
THE MASTER OF GEEENW AY COURT. 35U 
 
 peis, and arranged all the details of the scheme. As sool 
 as the savages, in the lower cave were sunk in] deep sleep, 
 they would be able to put their project in execution: and aa 
 there were many indications of the fact that the braves 
 were, one by one, yielding to their long day's journey, the 
 realization of the hopes of the party did not seem very far 
 distant. 
 
 Lightfoot remained then, silent and motionless in hia 
 place, listening with the keen ear of the Indian, to all noises 
 which ascended in muffled murmurs from below. One by 
 one these noises died away : — the muttered " Oughs " of the 
 warriors, as they wrapped their blankets around them, and 
 addressed themselves to sleep, became less and less fre- 
 quent : : — finally all sounds lapsed into silence, with the 
 exception of the heavy breathing which indicated the slum- 
 ber of the tribe. 
 
 It was no part of the young Indian's plan, however, to 
 carry out his enterprise at once. He was well acquainted 
 with the echoing peculiarities of the cavern — and his de- 
 sign was to wait patiently until the troubled sleep of the 
 warriors became a very heavy, log-like insensibility : and 
 this would not take place for an hour or two. By that 
 time, the sentinel also would be nodding over the fire, and 
 they might proceed without difficulty to their undertaking. 
 
 This had been communicated to the three women, and by 
 the advice of Lightfoot, they had lain down to snatch the 
 hasty slumber requisite to support them in their flight. All 
 obeyed, and worn out with excitement, were soon asleep. 
 
 Lightfoot remained thus silent and motionless for two or 
 three hours, wearily listening, when, all at once, a cautious 
 step descended the winding staircase from the upper cav- 
 ern. He rose, for this could scarcely be one of the Indians 
 With his hand on his knife he waited. Then at sight of 
 the figure which appeared at the mouth of the cavern, he 
 uttered a low exclamation of astonishment. 
 
 It was the figure of Falconbridge. 
 
FAIRFAX OB, 
 
 LXYHL 
 
 THE MARCH OF THE HUNTERS. 
 
 [HE appearance of Falconbridge is easilj ex- 
 
 , plained. 
 
 I Captain Wagner and Ms companions Lad no 
 sooner crept to their hidden position on the 
 
 brow of the opposite precipice, and concealed themselves 
 beneath the heavy foliage of the dense pines, than a council 
 of war was called. 
 
 The question to be determined was a simple one. Should 
 they make an attack before nightfall upon the occupants of 
 the cavern, trusting to their superior arms, or wait until 
 midnight, when the band was asleep, and then surprise 
 them, and put them to the knife? Some members of 
 the party advocated the former plan, and urged the fact 
 that the Indians were, no doubt now, according to their 
 invariable habit, overcome with liquor. They had certainly 
 carried off from the Ordinary as much rum as sufficed, by 
 the account of the servant who had escaped — and nothing 
 would be easier than to pile up brush at the mouth of cav- 
 ern, set fire to it, and force the Indians to an open combat, 
 as the alternative of being suffocated by the dense smoke. 
 
 This proposition found favor with numerous members 
 of the party, but they waited to hear the opinion of Cap- 
 tain Wagner. The Borderer, who had listened attentively, 
 and when the speaker ceased, closed his eyes, and with knit 
 brows reflected rapidly, now shook his head, and growled : 
 
 "It won't do! Friend Huger, your scheme is a good 
 one, I don't deny, and shows that you have been after thia 
 sort of game before — but there's a flaw in it, that kills. I 
 
THE MASTER OP GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 don't object to smoking the copper-faced devils, and suiTo- 
 cating 'em; if I could do it, I would put ever^ Injun in 
 America in the big cave I've heard of, in the Blue Ridge up 
 the valley yonder, heap up whole pine trees at the mouth, 
 set 'em afire, and smoke iny pipe with pleasure as I heard 
 'em yelling and howling in the death agony. That would 
 be good sport, or the devil take me ! But it won't do here I 
 These varmints are not the only people in the cave. 
 
 " To our certain knowledge there are three ladies in the 
 hands of these miscreants. Mrs. Butterton, Miss Argal, and 
 little Miss Cannie from the mountain yonder, George says. 
 Now the smoke would suffocate the women, too, and that's 
 not a part of our plan. I according^ reject it, as commandant 
 of the troop, and will give my own views, which I shall 
 carry out, unless they are met by others better. I know the 
 * Devil's Garden ' by heart. There is a path from this ridge 
 along the precipice, which will take us from one side of the 
 gulf to the other. I propose that we wait until past mid- 
 night, when the scoundrels will be dead asleep — and then we 
 can make the attack. We can approach in either of two 
 ways. The cave can be entered from the opening yonder 
 where the two savages were talking, or through a cleft in 
 the rock above, near the strange rock like a man. We may 
 then rescue the women, and make an end of the whole 
 party." - 
 
 This proposition was unanimously approved of, and the 
 hunters concealed themselves more carefully, awaiting the 
 hour when they were to commence their march along the 
 winding path toward their enemies. 
 
 The " moon had risen some time before, slowly ascending 
 like a shield of fire above the wild eastern ranges, and now 
 poured a flood of splendor upon the gigantic pinnacle which 
 towered above; on the yawning chasms and gUmmering 
 masses of piled up rock : on the gorges bristling with droop- 
 ing evergreens; and on the river which glittered in its rays 
 like a writhing serpent. The great orb ihone tranquilly, 
 16* 
 
Fairfax; or, 
 
 and the yellow light slept on the weird scene as peacefallj 
 as though it were untenanted by mortal — not the lurking- 
 place of deadly foes who would soon grapple in a mortal 
 struggle. 
 
 At ten paces from the rest of the hidden party, George 
 and Falconbridge conversed in low tones of their fears and 
 hopes, and all the emotions of their hearts. Long before, 
 indeed from the first moment of their meeting almost, they 
 had become bosom friends: heart spoke to. heart: each re- 
 cognized a brother: and now, on the perilous border, in the 
 wild night, with those whom they loved more than life in 
 mortal danger, the bond of brotherood was drawn closer 
 still, until the two natures almost were combined into one. 
 Each trembled with vague dread of the result of the in- 
 tended attack. Would they arrive in time? Had not the 
 Indians, even now, put their captives to death ? Were Ber- 
 tha Argal and Cannie Powell still breathing, or had they 
 fallen victims, hours before, to the savage cruelty which had 
 slain young children at the Ordinary, and dismembered the 
 dead body of the unhappy Mr. Argal ? 
 
 So the two young men passed the long hours in shudder- 
 ing dread — impatient, longing, panting for the contest — 
 eager for the signal which would solve their doubts and end 
 their fears. 
 
 At last it came. Captain Wagner passed the word cau- 
 tiously along the line, and taking the head of the party, set 
 forward on the precipitous and almost imperceptible path 
 which wound down the steep declivity. It was only to be 
 followed by careful observation, leading, as it did, beneath 
 die dense foliage of the evergreens, along the edge of the 
 precipice, where the moon's rays scarcely penetrated— and 
 more than one of the party, winding, single file, down into 
 the gorge, had to grasp the drooping boughs to prevent 
 themselves from being hurled into the chasm beneath. 
 
 At last the bed of the small stream was reached, and the 
 body of hunters commenced the ascent of the towering pin- 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 86$ 
 
 nacle. This would have been entirely out of the cpestios 
 near the outer edge, which was, as we have said, a sheet 
 precipice of five hundred feet, but at the point which they 
 had reached, about a quarter of a mile from the precipice, 
 it was possible to ascend, though this even was an under- 
 taking of great difficulty. The masses of rock in the pa't 
 of the party were huge and almost impassable — the tangled 
 underwood very nearly a complete barrier — but the trianed 
 and active hunters overcame all obstacles, and slowly made 
 their way, preceded by Captain Wagner, toward the sum- 
 mit. 
 
 It was nearly daybreak. Already faint streaks began to 
 appear in the eastern sky, the harbingers of dawn; and all 
 was more profoundly quiet in the wild scene than even upon 
 the night before. 
 
 At last the party reached the top, and a hurried consul- 
 tation was held. The result was that an examination oi 
 the fissure, and the entrance to the cavern beneath the man'a 
 bust, should be made, and to the latter Captain Wagner 
 addressed himself. Falconbridge, his second in command, 
 repaired with a portion of the hunters to the fissure. 
 
 He soon reached it, and bidding the men await his re- 
 turn, let his body down through the yawning aperture, into 
 which the moon's rays plunged, and felt his feet base them- 
 selves upon a jutting crag near the entrance. From this 
 abutment, he found no difficulty in picking his way, though 
 it required great caution, into the cavern nearest the sum- 
 mit. 
 
 From this he descended, directed by chance gleams of 
 fire-light, playing upon the roof, to the next, then to the 
 next, and so to the cave in which Lightfoot was watch- 
 ing over the slumbers of Mrs. Butterton, Cannie, and Miss 
 ArgaL 
 
864 
 
 FAIRFAX ; OB, 
 
 THE SON OF WAR EAGLE. 
 
 T sight of the young man, as we have said, 
 
 Lightfoot, who had risen to his feet, with his 
 hand on his knife, uttered a low guttural excla- 
 mation of astonishment. 
 The two persons, who represented so nobly the great 
 races from which they drew their blood, remained for some 
 moments motionless, surveying each other without speak- 
 ing. They were strongly contrasted, and yet singularly 
 alike in those subtler and less perceptible traits which un- 
 derlie the mere outward appearance. There was the same 
 frank gaze, clear, penetrating, unshrinking — the look of the 
 eagle upon the sun : the same proud simplicity of attitude ; 
 the same erect carriage of person. They stood thus, no 
 inapt representatives and types of the Caucasian and the 
 Indian — the civilized European and the untutored North 
 American — the court and the trackless wilderness. 
 
 Their glance was not one of hostility or suspicion. Each 
 had recognized in the other a pure and noble soul — but still 
 the inevitable circumstances of their position made them 
 use due caution. It was not two boys filled with chimerical 
 ideas of human goodness and unwavering confidence, who 
 stood thus, confronting each other. They were strong 
 men— with their feelings deeply aroused — opposed at a 
 critical moment, on a critical occasion. 
 
 Lightfoot, without removing his hand from his knife, said 
 is a low tone ; 
 
 "Why is the young pale-face in the heart of his ene- 
 naes?" 
 
THE MASTER OF GREESTWAY COURT. jJ65 
 
 Falconbridge pointed to Miss Argal, and replied : 
 "I came to seek her." 
 " She is your friend?" 
 " More than rny friend." 
 
 " The young man uttered the words with such dangtroua 
 animation and distinctness, that Lightfoot raised his hand 
 quickly, and said in a whisper \ 
 
 " Hist ! Beware how you speak so loudly. The mem- 
 bers of the tribe will wake at the noise, and your blood will 
 flow." 
 
 £ M care not," returned Falconbridge, who gazed with 
 flushed cheeks at Miss Argal as she slumbered serenely, a 
 happy smile playing fitfully upon her lips ; " so she is saved 
 from the diabolical cruelty of these savage beasts, I count 
 my own life as nothing." 
 
 The words affected Lightfoot like a blow. His head rose 
 haughtily, and he fixed upon Falconbridge one of those 
 burning glances which seem to measure the foe — as a tiger 
 measures the enemy upon whom he is about to spring 
 But the emotion of rage was plainly instinctive. It did not 
 last. The expression of menace disappeared almost as 
 quickly as it came, and a deep sadness fell like the shadow 
 of a cloud on the flashing eyes and proud lip. "With droop- 
 ing head, the Indian murmured : 
 
 " Be silent ! I am the son of "War Eagle, and in other 
 days the blood of him who uttered such words would have 
 run out of his Leart ! But my heart is changed. Lightfoot 
 no longer strikes in this quarrel. His heart says, ' Yes, my 
 tribe is erne), fs bloody ' — but he is still a Catawba, a chief. 
 Let the young pale-face respect the feelings of a chief." 
 
 The noble voice went to the heart of Falconbridge. His 
 cheeks reddened with impulsive shame, at thus wounding, 
 unnecessarily, the feelings of his companion. He stretched 
 out hj.s hand, and said, frankly : 
 
 " I would beg forgiveness — I meant not to hurt you, son 
 of War Eagle Let us speak not as foes, but as brothers 
 
866 
 
 tfAIWAX; OR, 
 
 for I know, I feel, that you are here as the protector of 
 women and children. I would know that even if one of 
 those children were not this one before nib." 
 And he pointed to Cannie. 
 
 The Indian gravely took the proffered hand, and ther 
 said : 
 
 "Does the young pale-face come to rescue the young 
 
 woman ?" 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Does he come alone ?" 
 
 And the penetrating eyes of the Indian chief looked full 
 into the eyes of his companion. Falconbridge replied, with 
 ready presence of mind, that he alone had made his way to 
 the cavern. He felt instinctively that in this critical mo- 
 ment, when the aid of Lightfoot was of inestimable value, 
 it would be wholly unnecessary and equally cruel to present 
 to him the tragic alternative of acting with his own tribe 
 against the whites, or with his adopted people against the 
 Indians. He evaded thus the question, and added quickly : 
 
 "What plan of escape have you devised?" 
 
 Lightfoot, in low, rapid tones, explained everything, and 
 added: 
 
 " The hour has nearly arrived. The band are sleeping— 
 I will go and reconnoitre. But before the son of War Eagle 
 goes, let him say to the young pale-face that his tribe are 
 not wholly fierce and cruel — they are very noble often; 
 though their eyes are different from the eyes of the whites. 
 The Good Spirit made the world of land and water, and val- 
 ley and mountain — he traced out the rivers, and rolled 
 round the seasons, through the hours of unremembered 
 year?, for all the tribes of all the mighty nations. He gave 
 to one of these great tribes, the whites, another land— to us 
 ho gave the prairies blooming with a hundred flowers — the 
 great wide forests — the pathless lakes — and lofty mountains, 
 We lived in the prairies, and upon the mountains — we pad- 
 dled on the lakes. The Evil Spirit often made us fight with 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENE AY COURT. ytM 
 
 e&e^ ether; but not always. Then came the pale- faces, and 
 they dyed the soil with the blood of braves. Wherever arf 
 Indian met a white, he met an enemy — it was life or death. 
 This has made all the tribes so bloody — this makes the Evil 
 Spirit laugh, and triumph. The son of War Eagle felt his 
 heart turn cold within him — he wandered from his tribe — 
 one day a prophet of the whites spoke to him of the Son of 
 the Great Spirit, and he listened. Then he left his people, 
 and became a believer. To-day he would not bear his knife 
 against either — he would turn away, and bury his sufferings 
 in silence. If the knife strikes him, let it strike — he will 
 die a Christian chief of the Catawbas !" 
 
 With these words, thi? young Indian left the cavern, and 
 noiselessly descending the winding stair to the cave be- 
 neath, disappeared from the eyes of his companion. Fal- 
 conbridge looked after him for a moment, then hastily going 
 to Miss Argal's side, laid his hand upon her arm. 
 
 The young lady opened her eyes, and gave a qui k start, 
 as she saw Falconbridge. Then covering her face with h®3 
 hands, she murmured with burning blushes: 
 
 " Do not speak to me— -I am not worthj 
 
868 FAIRFAX; OB, 
 
 CHAPTER LXX. 
 
 THE CONFESSION. 
 
 ALCONBRIDGE displayed an emotion evei 
 greater than that of his companion. His face 
 flushed with passionate emotion, and his breast 
 
 ^%^-^) heaved, as he gazed upon the woman whom he 
 loved, even more than ever it seemed to him, now that she 
 was helpless and surrounded by bloody enemies. 
 
 The nature of this man was one of those which remem- 
 bers the good and forgets the bad. He no longer recalled 
 the terrible wrong which the yor.ng lady had inflicted upon 
 him — he no longer thought of her as the woman who had 
 trifled with him, broken his heart, and laughed in his face 
 when he suffered. She was only the poor stricken girl 
 whose will and heart were diseased by an awfnl visitation 
 of the Supreme Ruler of the universe — he thought of her, 
 as ?he struggled in her father's arms that day, and cried, 
 " ! .oved him only n — as she looked when she came with 
 Btioaming eyes, and broken accents, and prayers for pardon, 
 to return his mother's ring. As he looked at her now, and 
 heard her murmur, "Do not speak to me — I am not worthy," 
 his heart was filled with an inexpressible love and pity." 
 
 Of the feelings of the young lady herself, it is scarcely 
 necessary to speak. The change which had taken place in 
 her whole being has been described — we have rapidly 
 touched upon, with a sort of fear, at undertaking sucli a 
 picture, the scene when another light than that of earth il- 
 luminated the gloomy depths of her soul: — and we know 
 thus what she felt in looking upon the victim of her untruth 
 and cruelty. 
 
 She scarcely dared to meet his eyes, and turned away, 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT, 369 
 
 covering her blushes of shame, as we have said, with her 
 hands. For more than a minute Falconbridge did not speak 
 — emotion had overcome him. Then he regained his self- 
 possession, and said: 
 
 "Do you think that I remember the past, with bitterness? 
 No, I do not. Look up, it is a faithful, do voted friend who 
 speaks to you." 
 
 " How can I ?" murmured the young lady, removing hex 
 hands from her face, but averting her head; " I am filled 
 with such shame, sir, that it almost kills me I" 
 
 " Do not speak thus ! Do not even refer to the past I" 
 
 " I must," she said in a low tone, glancing with unutter- 
 able sadness at him, and then looking away again, " I must, 
 Mr. Falconbridge, for I have acted toward you in so base a 
 manner, that it almost breaks my heart to think of it. But 
 do not think too cruelly of me ! One of my bitterest pangs, 
 even here in this gloomy place, where I have so much else 
 to make me miserable^ is the recollection of my dishonorable 
 conduct toward yourself. Do not interrupt sir," she said, 
 as he was about to speak, and gazing now with sorrowful 
 and shrinking modesty into his face; u do not stop me, Mr. 
 Falconbridge. You know I am a poor insane creature, and 
 I know not whether I shall have the mind or memory to 
 speak as I wish to speak to you, if I do not go on now. I 
 say, that I have been guilty of dishonor to you, and I musl 
 confess it all, before I can feel that you have forgiven it — I 
 do not know if you can. You came to the Valley, and from 
 our first meeting I determined to engage your affection, that 
 I and my father might be compelled to live no longer in this 
 solitude. I practiced upon you those wiles which it is the 
 sad misfortune of woman to possess — I succeeded in my 
 aim — and then I deceived you, basely, dishonorably, shame- 
 fully!" 
 
 Her face was crimson as she spoke. The effort which she 
 made in thus speaking, was plainly immense, passionate, 
 cruel 
 
 • A 
 
FAIRFAX; OR, 
 
 "I met Lord Fairfax," she went on, " and 1 broke my faith 
 with you — I treated you as no lady can treat a gentleman 
 without degrading herself; I sneered at you when you com- 
 plained; turned my back when you remonstrated; when 
 you begged me with that deep love which should have been 
 my pride, and honor, to be true to my plighted word, I laughed 
 in your face. Mr. Falconbridge!" said the young lady with 
 quivering lips and hands which trembled so much that they 
 were almost unable to put back the mass of raven curls 
 which fell over her face, " 3Ir. Falconbridge, it almost kills 
 me to utter these words ! — it makes me sick at heart ! — I am 
 so humiliated and degraded in my own eyes, that I could 
 sink through the earth for shame ! But I must speak I 
 Yes, sir, I behaved toward the most honorable and noble 
 gentleman I've ever known in a maniier which I can scarcely 
 believe as I think of it — I repeat it, with base, base dis- 
 honor ! — and on my knees I beg, I pray your forgiveness ! 
 Stop, Mr. Falconbridge ! — do not speak — let me add what I 
 know you are thinking at this moment — let me tell yoa my 
 only excuse for this terrible conduct. But I need not — I 
 see in your eyes that you have recalled it. Oh, yes, sir! 
 that is my sole excuse — it is something, is it not, sir? 1 
 was only a poor miserable creature — with my head whirling, 
 my mind unsound — my heart depraved and awfully wicked 1 
 I was not always so, sir! Once I was true and pure — 
 mamma taught me to be good and tender — but i could not 
 remain so ! Against my better nature I acted with awful de- 
 ception — I wounded you, and made you suffer without pity J 
 — but — but, through it all — I can scarcely find strengtn to 
 confess it, for you may misunderstand me — it escaped me, 
 papa says, in that mad attack which you witnessed — I — 
 loved you, — Edmund! — as you loved me — with my whole, 
 entire heart ! — you only ! Do not think me unmaidenly !" 
 she sobbed, turning away, and blushing to the roots of her 
 hair; "do not think that I wish you to return to mel That 
 
THE MASTER OF GftEENWiY COUBT. 871 
 
 ean never be, if yon even desired it ! We must part fo: jver, 
 fcfter this terrible night ! We can never meet more, but I 
 am changed, and I can pray for you — I can pray to God to 
 forgive me my great sin — as I pray you humbly to do so — 
 you, whom I have wronged so terribly and basely!" 
 
 She stopped, sobbing convulsively, — overcome by the wo- 
 ful confession, so repugnant to a woman: shaken by a depth 
 and poignancy of shame and anguish which no words can de- 
 scribe. 
 
 And JFalconbridge was as passionately moved as herself. 
 Her words had struck him like sharp arrows, recalling as they 
 did all his suffering, his long agony, his despair. This wuS 
 not the dominant feeling in the breast of the young man, 
 however. An unutterable compassion and tenderness made 
 his heart throb. His frame trembled, and he vainly essayed 
 to speak. In a few moments, however, he had mastered his 
 agitalion, and had opened his hps, when suddenly Lightfoot 
 stood beside them. 
 
 " Come ! — there is no moment to lose !" said the Indian 
 in a low, quick voice, " the sentinel is asleep, and the day is 
 breaking I" 
 
 The Indian cautiously awoke Mrs. Butterton and Gannio 
 as he spoke — and they silently rose from their couches. 
 Falconbridge had only time to bend over Miss Argal, to presa 
 her hand to his Hps and say in a deep broken voice : 
 
 "I forgive you from my hea»* \ May God forgive all w$ 
 Bins aa completely 1* 
 
 / 
 
/ATRFAX; OR, 
 
 LXXL 
 
 THE FLIGHT. 
 
 HE three women quickly made their prepara- 
 tions, and signified their readiness to follow theii 
 
 guides. 
 
 Lightfoot went in front, cautioning the mem- 
 bers of the party, in a low tone, to make nonoiao; and thus 
 gliding like shadows, they ascended the first flight of steps, 
 leading to the next cavern above. 
 
 There, Lightfoot paused a moment to H&teru His quick 
 ear seemed to have caught some slight sound of hostile im- 
 port. Bending his head, like a crouchiEg wild animal, his 
 keen eyes plunged into the half-darkne&s, his acute ears 
 strove to discern the repetition of the noise. It seemed to 
 have existed only in his imagination; and with a silent 
 movement of the hand, he motioned to the party to fol- 
 low. 
 
 The ascent became steeper and more difficult. In more 
 than one place the steps of the huge staircase were wanting, 
 and the women had to be lifted in the arms of their compan- 
 ions. Falconbridge and lightfoot, it ma^ easily be be 
 tieved, experienced singular emotion as the forms of those 
 , whom they loved were thus clasped in their arms, resting 
 upon their hearts. The young Indian was still agitated by 
 the cruel scene of his disappointment in the cavern: his face 
 glowed as he lifted the girl, and with all the respect and 
 tenderness of a brother, placed her safely upon the ledge 
 above. And if such an emotion invaded the breast of Eight- 
 foot, what a rush of painful delight must Falconbridge feay« 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENE AY COURT. 878 
 
 felt, as Miss Argal's cheek nearly touched his own, as he* 
 dark curls brushed against his bosom ! 
 
 But it was no time for reflection — no time to indulge 
 these inevitable emotions of the youthful heart. The mo- 
 ments rushed onward, winged with terrible peril — all was at 
 stake; the issues of life and death must soon be decided. 
 
 The party hurried onward as rapidly as the broken and 
 jagged pathway would permit. They had ascended thus 
 very nearly to the entrance, and were mounting the last pre- 
 cipitous staircase leading to the fissure in the pavement 
 above, beyond which lay hope, freedom, life. Lightfoot 
 again raised Cannie, and then assisted Mrs. Butterton to 
 ascend. Falconbridge held out his arms for Miss Argal, and 
 she obeyed his gesture. 
 
 The young man and the girl were thus clasped, as it were 
 in each other's embrace, when a roar like that of a furious 
 wild beast was heard, and followed by twenty Indians, the 
 Half-breed rushed up the staircase. He had gone to seek 
 Miss Argal, had discovered the escape of the three women, 
 and hastily calling to his companions, followed them. 
 
 He had arrived just in time to see Miss Argal clasped to 
 the bosom of Falconbridge, and the sight aroused in him 
 the furious devil of blood and death. By a superhuman 
 bound he reached the plateau beneath the fissure, just as the 
 three women were thrust upward by their companions — but 
 in spite of his reckless daring he recoiled. 
 
 Falconbridge had seized a huge mass of rock, and lifting 
 it above his head, hurled it downward. The Half-breed 
 avoided it by a movement to one side as rapid as lightning, 
 and it rebounded from the jagged floor, burst into fragments, 
 and sent throughout the gloomy caverns a sombre roar, 
 echoing and rebellowing from side to side. 
 
 Lightfoot and Falconbridge took instant advantage of the 
 diversion, and passing through the opening, found them- 
 selves in the air above, in the midst of the\party of hunters 
 who were rushing to their assistance. 
 
374 
 
 FAIRFAX ; OR, 
 
 The Indians appeared at the fissure, their red faces dis- 
 torted with rage and ferocity — above all, the hideous coun- 
 tenance of the Half-Breed, which resembled that of some 
 horrible demon, wild with rage and disappointment. But 
 at sight of the hunters armed to the teeth, with levelled 
 rifles, the heads disappeared, amid cries of fury and fear. 
 A volley from the whites followed, and a howl frcm the cav- 
 ern replied to it. More than one of the savages had been 
 killed by the unerring balls. 
 
 Then a new phenomenon appeared. At the moment when 
 the hunters were hastily reloading their pieces, a dense 
 cloud of lurid smoke rose slowly through the fissure, and as- 
 cended in the first rays of morning. Captain Wagner's 
 quick eye had discerned, from his position at the mouth of 
 the cavern, the escape of the captives — he had quickly 
 heaped together vast quantities of dry boughs — these had 
 been set on fire, and in the midst of the thick smoke his men 
 advanced to the attack. 
 
 The smoke swept upward toward the more elevated cav- 
 ern in which the entire tribe, by this time, were assembled. 
 Thus the captives huddled together upon the lower floor 
 were unharmed. Their bonds were quickly cut, and the 
 women escaped — the men seized arms from- the floor and 
 joined the whites. 
 
 At the head of his party, thus swollen in numbers, Cap- 
 tain Longknife rushed up the staircase of the cavern, firing 
 his pistols. Volleys from the hunters behind him were add- 
 ed — and very soon they had arrived within sight of the fis- 
 sure. 
 
 The huge borderer presented an appearance almost fright- 
 ful. His shaggy black hair and beard were singed by the 
 flames — his bulky form looked gigantic amid the clouds of 
 smoke — with his immense sabre whirled above his head, he 
 struck right and left with a fury which made him resemble 
 Borne mad giant of the old mythology. 
 
 More than once the cry of "Longknife! Longknife I" is- 
 
IKE MASTER OF GREEN WAY COURT. 
 
 875 
 
 sued from the terrified savages, who seemed to regard him 
 with superstitious awe and horror. They recoiled before 
 him, and crowded tumultuously toward the fissure. At every 
 moment the advancing hunters stumbled over dead bodies 
 — they breathed heavily in the lurid smoke: but with wild 
 shouts and discharges of fire-arm3 rushed upward. 
 
 The black fissure then disgorged before the eyes of the 
 party above, a furious crowd of savages. Their enemies 
 followed, and in an instant the final struggle commenced 
 upon the plateau of the gigantic pinnacle, which now shons 
 brightly in the light of day. 
 
876 
 
 FAIRFAX 4C| 
 
 Lxxn. 
 
 THE BOBBER EB AND THE HALF-BBEED. 
 
 HE struggle was furious, horrible, mortal. 
 
 All the most intense and acrid passions, which 
 agitate the human soul, were spurred to wild 
 and incredible activity, and the combatants seemed 
 to have made up their minds to conquer or die, without 
 thought of retreat or flight. 
 
 The enemies were nearly a perfect match. It is true, that 
 the Indians exceeded the hunters in numerical strength, 
 but the superiority of the arms used by the latter gave them 
 a decided advantage, and more than made up for the in- 
 equality of numbers. The area upon which they contended 
 — the summit of the dizzy precipice — was limited, and thus 
 the whites fought under favorable circumstances, for they 
 could not easily be surrounded. 
 
 Captain Wagner led the party of hunters: and beside 
 him Falconbridge advanced into the press, dealing such 
 blows with his sword that every opponent went down before 
 him. The two men seemed possessed with the battle ardor 
 in its fullest extent — that fury of the soul which animates 
 the blood of men, as animal ferocity does the blood ol 
 beasts, turning the mildest human beings into wolves and 
 tigers. Captain Wagner did not lose his presence of mind, 
 however. He led his men with the reckless courage of one 
 who commands a forlorn hope; but with the cool general- 
 ship,- also, of a veteran campaigner. He advanced, step by 
 step, beating down every opponent — delivering his orders 
 La a loud, rtrident tone, which rose above tke apron* — md 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 377 
 
 embracing, even at the instant when he gave his blows, the 
 entire field of action at a glance. 
 
 Falcombridge was beside him — and beside Falconbridge 
 was George. The youth was thoroughly aroused. His 
 habitual calmness and amiability had completely dis 
 appeared. His head was tossed back with fearless pride, 
 and in his heaving bosom, his burning eyes, his lips set 
 close together, might have been seen the evidences of a na- 
 ture of immense depth and strength — of dauntless will— oi 
 inflexible hardihood and determination. There was no 
 longer anything of the boy about him — he was the full- 
 armed warrior, rejoicing in the deadly contest. His sword 
 descended with unerring precision upon the writhing pha- 
 lanx of Indian warriors, and he was beside Falconbridge 
 wherever he advanced. 
 
 It was in the midst of this mad struggle, that all at once, 
 George heard a woman scream — and this scream he recog- 
 nized as issuing from the lips of Cannie. It was so wild 
 and piercing, so filled with distress and anguish, that the 
 young man's heart turned cold with apprehension. With a 
 hurried assurance to Falconbridge that he would return in 
 an instant, George threw himself backward, and clearing at 
 a single bound, two or three dead bodies, rushed in -the 
 direction of the spot from which he had heard the cry oi 
 distress. 
 
 A few words will explain it. 
 
 Cannie, Mrs. Butterton, and Miss Argal, had been hastily 
 conducted to the rear of a large mass of rock, on the east- 
 ern edge of the plateau, not far from the curious granite 
 bust, in order to screen them from the balls of the savages, 
 a large portion of whom carried rifles and pistols, procured 
 from the dwellings which they had plundered on their 
 march. A cleft in the rock afforded a favorable hiding- 
 place, and in this cleft, accordingly, the throe women 
 crouched, listening with terror, to the noises of the desper- 
 ate conflict Beside them Lightfoot leaned, with folded 
 
873 
 
 FAIRFAX) OK, 
 
 anas, depressed head, and heaving bosom, against ths 
 rock. A terrible struggle was going on in his breast. AH 
 the old instincts of the savage chieftain were aroused with- 
 in him, by the din of the combat — by the clashing weapons, 
 the discharge of fire-arms, the yells and shouts, as the ene- 
 mies closed in the mortal contest. His limbs trembled— a 
 shudder passed through his frame — and his glowing eyes 
 resembled balls of fire. But those eyes were not directed 
 toward the place of combat — his nervous fingers did not 
 clutch the weapon at his girdle. He could take no part 
 against either of the bands, for neither was his foe. He was 
 a Catawba, it is true, but he was also a friend of the whites 
 —a Christian; and to terminate any indecision which he 
 felt, came the thought that his presence was necessary to 
 the safety of Cannie. 
 
 Thus he curbed the wild battle instinct raging in hiB 
 breast — suppressed the tremor which agitated his frame ; 
 his feet rooted themselves in their place, and with folded 
 arms he awaited the end of the contest. 
 
 The three women were less capable of controlling their 
 feelings. They listened with terror to the shouts and dis- 
 charges. Every rifle shot, to their excited imaginations, 
 rung the death-knell of the person for whom they felt the 
 deepest solicitude. Above all, Cannie thought of George, 
 and the peril in which he must be, with blanched cheeks, 
 and eyes full of wild anguish. She saw him pale and bleed- 
 ing, beneath the trampling feet — her imagination conjured 
 up, for itself, a horrible spectacle — and unable longer to 
 bear the terrible suspense, she rose to her feet, passed 
 hastily by Lightfoot, and going to the edge of the rock, 
 looked toward the combatants. 
 
 As she reached the point, she suddenly recoiled with that 
 cry of terror which George had heard and obeyed. 
 
 An Indian, with a hideous scowl upon his features, met 
 her face to face, and raised above her head a long, glitter* 
 ing knife, which descended like a flash of lightning toward 
 her bosom. 
 
THE MASTER OF GRE£N"WAY COURT. 
 
 879 
 
 But the weapon did not bury itself in her heart. It 
 found another sheath. Lightfoot had seen her peril — his 
 face flushed crimson — and arriving at the spot, with a sin- 
 gle bound, he had thrown himself between the girl and the 
 descending knife. 
 
 It entered his bosom, and buried itself to the very hilt. 
 
 The savage recognized his brother warrior, and chief, too 
 late, and uttering a howl of terror at his action, disap- 
 peared in the direction of the main contest, at the moment 
 when George reached the side of the girl. 
 
 Cannie had thrown her arms wildly around the young 
 Indian, vainly endeavoring to sustain him from falling. 
 Her strength was unequal to the task, however; Lightfoot 
 tottered faintly, raised his eyes to heaven, and extending 
 his arms, fell backward, dragging the girl with him, to the 
 earth. 
 
 George hastened to their assistance, but he had come too 
 late. The weapon had evidently inflicted a mortal wound- 
 Almost fainting at the awful sight, at the pale, calm face, 
 and half-closed eyes of the dying man, Cannie supported 
 his form in her arms, and looked up at George with an ex- 
 pression in her eyes which haunted him to the day of his 
 death. There was in it such a depth of anguish, a tender- 
 qcss so profound and passionate, that the young man felt 
 his cheeks flush in unison w T ith the girl's emotion, and his 
 pulses throb. 
 
 Cannie spoke to the dying man in quick, hurried tone?, 
 which were scarcely recognizable. She bedewed his fore- 
 head with her tears — besought him to speak to her — and 
 used every means to arouse him, and recall him to con- 
 sciousness. Miss Argal and Mrs. Butterton hastened to her 
 assistance- -and all three of them chafed his brow and 
 hands. It was of no avail — the young Indian exhibited no 
 signs of life beyond a faint movement of the chest — and 
 George saw, with inexpressible anguish, that his friend was 
 dying. As he gazed at the serene face, drooping languidly 
 
830 
 
 FAIRFAX ; OB, 
 
 toward the bare shoulder, at the eyes veiled by their long 
 black lashes, at the slowly heaving bosom, which, at every 
 pulsation, forced a few drops of the Indian's life-blood 
 through the wound, the young man's throat seemed to 
 choke with tears, and a groan issued from his lips. 
 
 But it was no time to indulge in regrets. The combat in 
 which his friends were engaged, began to roar more furi- 
 ously than before. The cries of his companions recalled 
 him to the contest; and at the moment when he roused 
 himself to a consciousness of his duty, these shouts were 
 redoubled, and replied to from the slope, by which Ihe peak 
 was reached. 
 
 A quick glance in the direction of these latter cries, re- 
 vealed their origin. At the distance of a quarter of a mile 
 Lord Fairfax, who had found the trail of the hunters, was 
 seen sweeping onward toward the pinnacle, followed by 
 twenty mounted men, who plunged their spurs into their 
 foaming animals, and rushed upward, to the relief of their 
 friends. The sight banished completely the softer emotion 
 which George had experienced. His face flushed again with 
 the animal instinct of war — and hastily stooping, he raised 
 the languid body of Lightfoot in his arms, and bore it to 
 the cleft in the rock, where the women could minister to 
 him, if he revived, without danger from the bullets of the 
 enemy. 
 
 He then bade them, in hurried accents, keep close within 
 their place of concealment; and in the midst of a hundred 
 frantic shouts, hastened back to the scene of contest. 
 
 The Indians, in his absence, had been slowly driven back, 
 step by step, and were beginning to revolve the propriety 
 of flight, when they heard the cries of the party coming up 
 the mountain. Ac the same moment another incident took 
 place, which completed their despair, depriving them of all 
 " heart of hope." 
 
 Captain Wagner 3 as we have said, plunged, at the head ol 
 his man into the Tery centre of the savages, and with hi* 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 881 
 
 sabre, of immense weight and length of blade, hewed down 
 every opponent who stood in his path. Breathing hoarsely, 
 dealing gigantic blows with a ferocity now thoroughly 
 aroused, and shaking from him, so to speak, as a bear shakes 
 off the dogs, the most powerful warriors who assailed him, 
 he had left behind him a long train of dead or dying, who 
 had bit the dust beneath his arm. He was destined, how- 
 ever, to find a foeman worthy of his steel. This was the 
 powerful Half-breed, who had hitherto fought in another 
 part of the press, but who now advanced toward the sol- 
 dier, uplifting, with both hands, a huge axe, which he had 
 seized from a pile of stolen utensils in the cavern. 
 
 The countenance of the Half-breed resembled, at this 
 moment, the mask of a fiend, or rather the veritable physi- 
 ognomy of a demon incarnate, let loose upon the material 
 earth. His eyes were blood-shot, and burned with a lurid 
 lustre, suggestive of blood and death. His hideous mouth 
 was distorted into a sneer, which rendered it a thousand 
 times more repulsive ; on his broad chest, and enormous 
 ari^d, the muscles stood out like knots, or excrescences. 
 
 He advanced straight upon Captain Wagner, and aimed 
 a terrible blow at his head — a blow which would have felled 
 the most powerful ox. The soldier parried it with his 
 sword, but the result was unhappy for him. The sabre 
 yielded to the immense stroke, and snapped within six 
 inches of the hilt. 
 
 The Half-breed uttered a howl of triumph, and throwing 
 his chest backward, whirled the axe with both hands, and all 
 his strength, above his head, delivering the blow with the 
 full swing of the deadly weapon. 
 
 But he had met an enemy as wary and self-possessed as 
 himself. The axe did not descend. With a bound of as- 
 tonishing rapidity, Wagner leaped upon the Half-breed, and 
 seized him by the wrist and throat. The axe was no longer 
 of any use to him — the grasp upon his throat required the 
 use of his hands — with another howl, more furious than the 
 former, the savage dropped the weapon and clutched his 
 onemy in a terrible and deadly embrace. 
 
S82 
 
 FAIRFAX OR, 
 
 Then commenced a struggle awful for its ferocity and the 
 mortal determination of the combatants. It was a contest for 
 life or death, and each felt that the resultmust be doubtful 
 Both were men of immense physical strength — both aroused 
 to the last fury of passionate hatred; neither gained, at first, 
 any advantage. The superior stature of Captain Wagner 
 counted in his favor; but the deformed Half-breed had trained 
 his huge muscles, by constant exercise, until they were as hard 
 and elastic as steel; and this more than balanced his want of 
 height. He wrapped himself around the frame of the Bor- 
 derer like a deadly boa-constrictor, tightening the grasp of 
 his crooked arms and legs, and striving, it seemed, to crush 
 the breastbone of his adversary. 
 
 Thus locked in a deadly embrace, the enemies made gi- 
 gantic efforts to terminate the struggle. The Half-breed 
 had no arms — having discharged his pistols, and dropped 
 his knife and tomahawk in the melee. The Borderer had a 
 knife, but it was tangled in his belt, and he could not draw 
 it, until his foe was prostrate beneath him, and his own 
 arms free from the paralyzing pressure. They staggered 
 from side to side, stumbling and nearly falling over the 
 dead bodies; writhing like wild animals, and uttering hoarse 
 growls; exerting their great strength to an extent almost 
 supernatural in the breast to breast contest for life. 
 
 Then a new and more terrible feature was added to the 
 struggle. Step by step they had detached themselves from 
 the rest of the combatants, and now they found themselves 
 rapidly approaching the ledge of rock which ran around the 
 brink of the precipice. The Borderer's back was turned to 
 it, and he was not aware of his peril until it was almost too 
 late to guard against it. He heard, at the instant, a sort of 
 hissing growl, and a sudden and diabolical grin distorted 
 the face of the Half-breed. Breathing heavily, and gnash- 
 ing his boar-like tusks, he forced his enemy toward the 
 dizzy precipice, and suddenly, as they reached the very 
 verge, buried his sharp teeth in the Borderer's throat. 
 
THE MASTER OP GREENWAY COURT. 883 
 
 Wagner uttered a hoarse cry, and staggered back. The 
 dog-like bite, deep into his throat, had taken him unawares, 
 and nearly paralyzed him. His head grew dizzy, his right 
 hand released its hold upon the Half-breed: clinging like a 
 tiger, to the Borderer's throat, the malignant savage pushed 
 him, inch by inch, to the verge. 
 
 A glance behind him showed the soldier his awful peril. 
 He saw the, sheer descent of five hundred feet beneath him, 
 the plateau at its foot, a bed of shattered rocks: and upon 
 that plateau, his mangled corpse would be lying in three 
 seconds, unless he could disengage the hideous monster's 
 teeth from his throat. 
 
 His brain reeled. A shudder passed through his frame — 
 and a sort of chill invaded his breast. The heart of ''this 
 man, who had braved a thousand perils, who had led his 
 men into the bloodiest gulfs of battle, who had set his life, 
 a hundred times, upon the hazard of the die, without giving 
 so much as a thought to the event — the heart of this stal- 
 wart soldier, who had never felt fear in the midst of any 
 danger, now recoiled and died within him at this horrible 
 thought — at the idea of death in a shape so hideous and 
 revolting. / 
 
 He summoned all his remaining strength, and made a 
 al effort to hurl from him the monster, whose fangs were 
 buried in his bleeding throat. The effort was vain. The 
 jagged teeth clung closer still — their grip was firmer, and 
 they gnawed at the quivering flesh with hound-like ferocity. 
 The Borderer uttered a stifled cry, and let fail his other 
 arm, with w T hich he had endeavored to repel his enemy. 
 The act preserved him. The Half-breed had forced his 
 opponent to the very brink, and was about to hurl him 
 over, when he felt a blade, keen and mortal in its stroke, * 
 enter his breast. The Borderer's hand had fallen upon the 
 knife in his belt — he had drawn it and struck. The mon- 
 ster's hold relaxed, the teeth clutched at his enemy's throat 
 with a last despairing effort — and uttering a hoarse gro\v]« 
 he «*H&$aYC*ed to drag the Borderer with him in his falL 
 
884 
 
 FAIRFAX; OB, 
 
 Captain Wagner had just strength enough to recovei 
 himself. His body oscillated, as it were, upon the brink; 
 and he staggered back, as the hideous form of the Half- 
 breed disappeared like a mass hurled from some war-like 
 engine in the yawning chasm, where it was dashed to pieces 
 upon the rocks. 
 
 As the Borderer turned from the terrible contest, wiping 
 his streaming brows, and breathing heavily, he saw the In- 
 dians give way. Then, all at once, with loud shouts and 
 the discharge of pistols and carbines, the party, headed by 
 Lord Fairfax, bore down upon them, and completed the 
 rout: — the remnant of the band disappeared in the forest, 
 with howls of hatred and despair. 
 
 At the same moment the sun rose above the eastern 
 mountain, and poured his tranquil light upcn the spectacle 
 of blood and death. 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 885 
 
 LXXIH. 
 
 THE YOUNG INDIAN. 
 
 T the mouth of the cleft in the rock, where the 
 women had concealed themselves, Cannie holds 
 upon her breast the head of Lightfoot, who is 
 dying. 
 
 The young chief exhibits no evidences of suffering — no 
 Tear of his impending fate. His countenance is calm and 
 untroubled; his eyes are filled with a serene, happy light; 
 the courage of his race and his new-found faith, have come 
 to nerve him ior the journey through the vale of shadows. 
 
 As he looks up into the face of the young girl, who gazes 
 at him with .inexpressible anguish and compassion, a faint 
 smile wanders over his countenance, and a sigh escaping 
 from the parted lips, seems to indicate deep happiness. 
 
 " The Dove of the Mountain is unhurt," he murmurs ; 
 " the head of the son of War Eagle rests upon her heart ! 
 Has the day dawned, Mountain Dove, and is the combat 
 over ? Have the children of the Catawbas gone away ?" 
 
 " Yes," murmured Cannie with a sob. 
 
 The Indian caught the almost imperceptible sound, and 
 said : 
 
 "Why do you cry ? Is your heart sad for me? Do not 
 cry for me — I am not unhappy — oh, no, not unhappy I" 
 
 " You are dying, Lightfoot," returned the girl, suppress- 
 ing, by a violent effort, a rush of tears. 
 
 "Dying? Yes, that is true, little Dove," he said; "but is 
 that anything to grieve afc ? The world is very dark and 
 sad, and I go from it to another land where there is never 
 any darkness. You gave me this hope and happiness, for 
 you taught me what to believe, and what my duty was. 
 Without you, I should never have been anything but an 
 Indian warrior — I am dying, but I am happy." 
 17 
 
886 
 
 FAIRFAX ; OR, 
 
 "And for me! oh, you are dying for me!" exclaimed th* 
 girl, nearly beside herself with anguish; "you gave your 
 life to protect me from that blow. Would I had died be- 
 fore you — in your place, Lightfoot — dear, dear Lightfoot; 
 my heart is breaking as I think " 
 
 She stopped, nearly suffocated by emotion, and crying 
 bitterly. 
 
 "Do not weep!" said the Indian, earnestly, with glowing 
 cheeks; " you wound me ! I thank the Master that he per- 
 mitted the poor Indian to save the little Mend who gave 
 him the great hope of another land ! See the sun ! there 
 he rises ! Before he rests in the mountains the son of War 
 Eagle will be smiling as he stands in the present 'if the 
 Master of Life !" 
 
 As he sj)oke, a slight convulsion passed over his frame, 
 and his eyes began to grow dreamy and absent. The girl 
 saw, through her tears, with a sudden chill at the heart, 
 that his mind had commenced to wander, as the spirit does 
 when it approaches death. 
 
 "Oh, yes!" she exclaimed, "you will stand in the pres- 
 ence of God, and he will smile upon you, for you are pure 
 and good — oh, so good and kind, dear, dear Lightfoot! 
 You are dying because you protected a poor child, and the 
 Saviour will receive and bless you!" 
 
 "All!" murmured the Indian, his head slightly droop- 
 ing, " was that my father's whisper ? Does War Eagie talk 
 from the happy hunting-grounds to his child ? I will go to 
 meet him !" 
 
 And the young chief attempted to rise, but fell back 
 faintly. 
 
 " No, no !" cried the girl in a low, frightened tone, and 
 trembling, "do not try to rise — lean on me — you are dy- 
 ing, Lightfoot 1" 
 
 The words arrested his failing attention, and he looked 
 up into her eyes with a sad smile. 
 
 "Dying?" he said faintly; "do you say that the son of 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT, 387 
 
 War Eagle is dying? Yes — now I see, I remember! Tho 
 knife ! You are the Mountain Dove, are you not, little one ? 
 I loved you — did I not try to save you ? I thought — but 
 that shadow! Why does it creep so slowly, slowly? And 
 th6 wind ! Is it the wind or the voices of other years in 
 the forest where I roamed as a chief of the Catawbas ? It 
 is a brave, great tribe — the son of War Eagle is a chief! 
 There, the wind again — and it blows from the mountain 
 where the old man lives with the maiden. Is that a rose in 
 your hair, little Dove, and who is wandering with you ? A 
 youth of the palefaces ! He is a noble-looking boy, but he 
 can never love you as the poor Indian loved you. You are 
 more to him than the skies and rivers, than the prairie and 
 the forest — you are his life; without you he would die!" 
 
 A glow came to the face, upon which the pallor of death 
 was slowly settling. By a last effort, he raised his drooping 
 head, with a parting gleam in the joyful eyes, and it fell 
 back upon her shoulders with the face turned upward to the 
 sky. 
 
 "It was not the wind!" he murmured, close to her ear: 
 " it is my father, who is whispering to his child, and blesses 
 me as I go, Do you hear — 'My son dies well!' Yes, the 
 son of War Eagle, the child of the Catawbas dies well, since 
 he dies for the little Dove. Farewell, I am going to the 
 Master! — the sun, how it shines ! — how the Master smiles !" 
 
 And the voice died away. With a bright light on his 
 face, the young chief fell back into the arms of Cannie, and 
 expired upon her bosom. 
 
 At the distance of ton paces, and not far from the strange 
 granite bust, Lord Fairfax held, in the same manner, upon 
 his breast, the hea4 of Ealconbridge, who was dying in hia 
 arms. 
 
 Within five yards of the young man lay the body of Ber- 
 tha Argal — beautiful in death as in life. 
 
583 
 
 FAIRFAX: OB. 
 
 lxxtv. 
 
 THE YOUNG CAVALIER. 
 
 HE young girl who has played so woeful a part 
 in our drama — who, under the influence ci 
 some Fatality, it would seem, had wrecked in 
 their freshest bloom the hopes and happiness ol 
 a noble heart — this child of error and unhappy weakness, 
 had blotted out the record of her fault, by one supreme and 
 all-embracing act of courage and devotion. 
 
 She had sacrificed her life ill the vain attempt to pre- 
 serve that of her lover. 
 
 It was at the moment w£en Lord Fairfax was ascending 
 the slope, when Captain Wagner was struggling with the 
 Half-breed, that Falconbri* Ige, finding himself nearly sur- 
 rounded by a number of the savages, retreated, fighting 
 desperately, toward a rock, against which he designed to 
 place his back. 
 
 The tide of conflict had rolled in another direction, and 
 borne George and his companions from his side; he was 
 thus left alone to oppose his enemies. 
 
 Thus contending with all the desperation of a knight oi 
 the Middle Ages surrounded by a cloud of Saracens, Fal- 
 conbridge retreated, step by step, toward the rock which 
 we have mentioned — on the opposite side of which was the 
 cleft in which Miss Argal and the two others were con- 
 cealed. 
 
 Cannie and Mrs. Butterton were bending over Lightfoot, 
 and did not hear the clash of Falconbridge's weapon, as he 
 parried the blows aimed at him. But Miss Argal heard it 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAY COURT. 
 
 889 
 
 — and something in her heart told her that the man whom 
 she loved was in danger. 
 
 With the impulsive and daring girl, to determine was to- 
 act. She hastily left the hiding-place, and passing round 
 the rock, found herself in the midst of the Indians. 
 
 She did not look at them. Her burning eyes were fixed 
 upon the youth, who contended single-handed against hig 
 adversaries. At the same instant she saw the Indians draw 
 back, as by a concerted movement — one of them, who was 
 behind, levelled his rifle tit the breast of Falconbridge — and 
 fire leaped from the muzzle. 
 
 The ball which was intended for the young man, entered 
 *jhe bosom of Miss ArgaL With the activity of a tigress 
 whose young is threatened, the girl had bounded forward, 
 and thrown one arm round his neck, protecting his body 
 with her own. 
 
 He heard the discharge — the young girl's wild cry of 
 anguish; he felt her form weigh heavily upon his breast. 
 An awful horror for a moment made his heart ice — but 
 then the blood rushed back like a torrent of raging fire. 
 With the hoarse cry of a lion lashed to fury, he deposited 
 the form of the girl upon the ground, and throwing himself 
 with insane rage upon the crowd of savages, plunged his 
 sword right and left into every breast which opposed him. 
 His mad passion was so frightful and deadly, his face so 
 terrible in its menace, that the bravest of the savages re- 
 coiled before him with superstitious dread. 
 
 But the unseen Euler of the world had decreed that all 
 the courage, all the strength, all the immense passion of 
 Falconbridge should avail him nothing; his last hour ap- 
 proached. In his headlong advance, his foot slipped in 
 blood; he fell upon one knee, and his sword striking against 
 the rocks, was broken close to the hilt. As he essayed to 
 rise, one of the savages levelled his pistol, and the ball en- 
 tered his breast. 
 
 With a last look toward the sky, Falconbridge, like 
 
890 
 
 FAIRFAX ; OR, 
 
 Lightfoot, fell backward, the blood welling from the wound, 
 and staining his white ruffles with crimson. 
 
 The Indians had begun to waver already, as they saw the 
 advance of Lord Fairfax ; the form of the Half-breed had 
 disappeared in the gulf beneath ; as Falconbridge fell, they 
 hastily retreated, and finally disappeared down the slope 
 beneath the boughs of the evergreens. 
 
 "When Lord Fairfax leaped from his horse, the first object 
 which greeted his gaze, was the body of Falconbridge. He 
 seized it in his arms with a hoarse cry, and at the pressure 
 of the father's heart to the son's, the young man opened his 
 eyes and gazed about him faintly. 
 
 "My son! my child!" cried the Earl, with inexpressible 
 anguish; "my boy, speak to me! Where are you wound- 
 ed? Oh ! in the bosorc fesre V 
 
 And with trembling, bat rapid hands, the Earl tore open 
 the young man's waistcoat and shirt. Pushing hastily aside 
 a small gold locket which hung from Falconbridge's neck 
 by a fine steel chain, he searched for the wound. He did 
 not search long ; turning suddenly pale, the Earl seemed 
 about to faint. 
 
 Immediately over the heart, a circular spot of blood indi- 
 cated the place where the ball had entered. 
 
 He saw that all was over. His knowledge of gunshot 
 wounds told him this one was mortal — and turning away 
 his head, the stern old nobleman uttered a sob which tore 
 its way from his inmost heart, like a cry of agony and des- 
 pair. 
 
 " Yes, yes !" said a panting and broken voice at his el- 
 bow, "yes, friend, you are right; you are not deceived; he's 
 as good as gone from this earth ! Falconbridge I Falcon- 
 bridge I look at me once more, comrade ! It is Wagner that 
 speaks to you !" 
 
 And the rude Borderer, who had hastened with giant 
 strides to the spot, threw himself upon his knees at the 
 side of the young man, and inclosed his pale hand in a 
 grasp of iron. 
 
THE MASTER OF GBEENWAY COUBT. 
 
 891 
 
 " Look at me, comrade !" growled the Captain, in hoarse 
 And tragic accents, "you see me, don't you? Come, open 
 your eyes! I'm Wagner, the old bear that loved you, and 
 here's George, who's got hold of your other hand. Don't 
 be talking, for your wound is sure to bleed, only look up, 
 companion ! Black day ! miserable hour !" groaned the 
 speaker despairingly; "a bullet has done for him — all's 
 over with the boy !" 
 
 As he spoke, the young man slowly opened his eyes, and 
 looked round with a dreamy glance, at the faces beside 
 him. 
 
 " Companion !" he muttered, as his glance fell on Wagner, 
 "is she saved?" 
 
 "There, stop talking 1" cried the soldier, with a glow 
 in his cheeks, " stop that talking, I say." 
 
 " Ah ! comrade, you are there," he murmured, " and she 
 — she is — gone ! I remember I" 
 
 As he uttered these words, which were almost inaudible* 
 the cheeks of Falconbridge flushed, and then turned white 
 again: a convulsion passed over his frame, and made the 
 hot blood gush from his bosom. With a faint attempt to 
 rise, he fell back with a low cry into the arms of Lord Fair- 
 fax, whose strength seemed about to desert him. 
 
 " Kouse 1 rouse ! my child !" he exclaimed in an agony of 
 despair; "do not die without looking at your father —it will 
 kill me!" 
 
 And the grim Earl strained the fainting and languid 
 form to his breast so wildly, that it seemed to infuse a por- 
 tion of his own life into Falconbridge. 
 
 He slowly opened his eyes. His glance fell upon the face 
 of George, which was bathed in tears. The boy held his 
 white cold hand, and kneeling, pressed it to his throbbing 
 heart. The wandering eye of Falconbridge arrested itself 
 is it fell upon the agitated countenance — his lips moved, 
 kiA he endeavored, vainly, to speak. 
 
 "Bend your ear to his lips, George," groaned Wagner, 
 "fee's going, and has uot something to say." 
 
392 
 
 FAIRFAX ; 
 
 George quickly obeyed, and placed Ms ear to tne *«ratk 
 
 of Falconbridge. 
 
 "I am dying," was tne low murmur; "I am going — to 
 leave you, George ! I always loved you — dear companion — 
 as I know that you loved me 1 Tou will do me a last favor," 
 he said, raising his hand feebly to the locket on his breast; 
 " see that I am buried on the mountain yonder— by the pine 
 which — we looked at on that autumn day — and bury her be- 
 side me ! — this locket — it contains a woman's hair — her hair 
 — don't let them remove it from my bosom, George !" 
 
 "Oh, no! I swear it! I will protect it with my life!" 
 exclaimed the weeping youth. 
 
 "And now, farewell!" murmured Falconbridge, a sor- 
 rowful smile passing over his pale face; "I am dying — am J 
 not?" 
 
 " It won't be long !' muttered Captain Wagner, his fiery 
 eyes moistened with tears; "five minutes I give him! — mis- 
 erable day 1 Oh, why did he ever come on the trail! Fal- 
 conbridge ! Falconbridge ! look here, comrade I Look al 
 Wagner, who's crying like a baby at your knees !" 
 
 The young man heard the appeal of the Borderer, and 
 turned his eyes upon his face. 
 
 "Friend! — true and tried!" he murmured, faintly, "we 
 must part ! Remember me — when I am gone!" 
 
 "Remember you! Until my grave is dug, IH love and 
 think of you, my boy, and cherish you ! My heart is bleed- 
 ing, look you ! — my poor old heart !" 
 
 He stopped, overcome by emotion. 
 
 The face of Falconbridge grew soft and serene: then a 
 Blight color came to the pale cheeks ; and by a great effort 
 he turned his eyes in the direction of Miss Argal's body, and 
 faintly stretched out his hands. 
 
 "He wants to have her by him when he goes!" groaned 
 the Borderer; "he's faithful to the death !" 
 
 And the soldier rose quickly, and going to the spot where 
 file pale, cold form of the young lady lay, took it in nil 
 
THE MAJSTEB GREENWAI WWW. 
 
 m 
 
 arms, and brought it to the side of Falconbridg \ Tho face 
 of the Borderer was white, and his frame shudd*,r©4 as ne 
 thus held close to his breast the body ©f the woman whom 
 he had seen so often, smiling and beautiful in life. But ho 
 did not falter — he deposited the inanimate figure at th« 
 ^ide of the youth. 
 
 As the eyes of the dying man fell upon the pale features 
 the exquisite face, as of one who was sleeping- tranquilly 
 and happily, his lip quivered, and a tremor agitated him, 
 making the blood well, in a crimson stream, from tha 
 wound in his bosom. 
 
 " She is gone before me!" he murmured in a whisper; " i» 
 the day about to wane, companion ? — this darkness I 'Tis 
 a grand, beautiful world — with its flowers and . sunshine I— 
 but — another land ! — see how it shines above me as I go I" 
 
 These words were his last. With a final movement, 
 which exhausted all his strength, he bent toward the dead 
 body of the young lady, and encircling it with his arms, died 
 with his head upon her bosom. 
 
884 FAIEFAX; OR, 
 
 CHAPTEE LXXT. 
 
 THE DAUGHTER OF THE STARS. 
 
 ITH the death of him who has illustrated oof 
 poor pages more than all his co-mates, the chroni- 
 cle might fitly terminate. 
 
 Falconbridge once dead, his figure removed, his 
 eyes no longer dwelling upon the prairie, the mountain, and 
 the river, — both the scene and the actors appear dreary and 
 sad: the life of the drama has departed. 
 
 But we linger for a brief space before bidding the reader 
 farewell. The vortex which drew into its bloody depths so 
 many forms, did not spare, in its final effect, another being. 
 
 The bodies of the whites and savages, who had been slain, 
 were buried ; and the hunters, at the head of whom rode 
 the Earl and Captain Wagner, returned toward Green way 
 Court 
 
 Scarcely a word was uttered by the two leaders upon the 
 march. They scarcely turned their heads, for, in a litter of 
 boughs behind them, were borne the dead bodies of Bertha 
 Argal, and Falconbridge. 
 
 Then a procession of hunters, bearing a litter upon their 
 shoulders, ascended the mountain, and the young man and 
 the girJ "^ere laid at the foot of the great pine which he had 
 looked at that day, — beneath whose shadow he had wished 
 to be buried. The cavalcade returned to the lowland again 
 —silent and sorrowful; all were thinking of the youth an* 
 maiden who were sleeping their last sleep. 
 
 One murmur, alone, was mingled with the hoof-strokea of 
 the horses. The leader of the troop, with white, cold lip% 
 whispered strangely. 
 
THE MASTER OP GREENWAY ۩tfRT. 
 
 "It is welll" 
 
 Then, many days afterward, the silence of the moTtntaia 
 fastness was broken by the noise of a horseman ascenditag 
 the winding road to the dwelling, which we have visited 
 more than once. 
 
 This horseman is George, He is going to see Cannie, 
 and his face is very pale: — for the child is lying dangerously 
 fli. 
 
 The exposure upon the march with the Indians had ag- 
 gravated, terribly, her tendency to disease of the lungs; and 
 Boon after her return, she had been seized With an acute at- 
 tack. A physician had been hastily sent for from the settle- 
 ment east of the Blue Kidge; but after an examination of 
 the condition of the sufferer, he had shaken his head, and 
 framed away hopelessly. 
 
 The disease had invaded the vital organs, and the death 
 of the child was only a question of time. 
 
 She lingered until the cold, sad winter had passed away, 
 till the violets of spring were blooming in the grass, till 
 the birds were carolling in the mild blue sky, which drooped 
 like a canopy above the headlands and rivers, and the 
 prairie glittering with a million flowers. 
 
 Then the life of the little sufferer waned rapidly. 
 
 George was ever beside her — controlling the sobs which 
 tried to force their way from his lips — and smiling upon 
 her hopefully and sweetly. 
 
 She knew how much he had loved her now — she knew 
 that this love had increased until it eame to be a portion of 
 his life. She would often take his hand, and with smiles of 
 deep tenderness, and swimming eyes, thank the boy for his 
 kindness and goodness, through all the days since he had 
 met her, and saved her life. 
 
 And George would laugh and chide her for her sorrowful 
 air — for her talk about dying, and seeing her "last violets" 
 — then his feelings would overcome him, and throwing him- 
 self down en his knees at her 
 
k.i in the counten^e solb: or press his quivering lip 
 to i\e little white ttanil, and cry' like a child, until he wat 
 exhausted. 
 
 Beside her, day and night, the old gray-haired man 
 watched her ever/ movement — vhe color in her cheeks — the 
 quick, short breaths — the brows knit at thaes with sudden 
 and acute pain. His life seemed absorbed in his child; and 
 as her strength, became weaker and weaker, Ma ^ery heart's 
 blood seemed to ebb away with her own. 
 
 Thus the winter waned away, and the spring ua.ne gladly 
 — but it brought no life to Cannie. 
 
 She had clearly drawn near to that mysterious world 
 which lies beyond the stars, and yet only a step fron every 
 human being. Lying serenely on the little white couch be- 
 side the window, she resembled rather a pure white flo * sr 
 than a mortal maiden — a snow drop, delicate and fragile.- 
 and transient — which the first breath of wind would blow 
 away. 
 
 She would lie thus for hours with the old man's hand ir 
 her own, gazing out on the wild landscape of mountain an«i 
 gorge, with a dreamy smile — very happy it seemed, in soma 
 thought, which came to her; wholly willing to submit to the 
 fate which now awaited her at any instant. 
 
 At last the invisible hand was stretched out. It was 
 beautiful evening of May. The sinking sun threw a flush et 
 crimson light on the opposite mountain — on the lofty pine* 
 — and far down on the gliding waters of the Shenandoah, 
 the "Daughter of the Stars," which murmured and die& 
 away, as the soft breeze of evening came and went, bearieg 
 up from the prairie the delicate odor of flowers, 
 
 " The time has come, dear, for me to leave you," she saia 
 faintly; "don't grieve for me, grandpapa — I shall be happy. 
 «id I will meet you in heaven." 
 
 He pressed his lips with sudden agony to her thin whito 
 hand — but the low soft vol' again begged him not to grieva 
 fer Ik*. 
 
THE MASTER OF GREENWAT COUBT. 
 
 397 
 
 A b she spoke, she saw George come at a swift gallop up 
 the mountain, and her cheek flushed gladly. He was soon 
 beside her. 
 
 "I thought I never should see you any more," she mur* 
 mured, smiling; "I am going away from you, George." 
 
 The young man sobbed and fell almost powerless upon 
 his knees at the bedside. 
 
 " Oh do not 1 do not speak thus !" he said; " you will live ! 
 you will live to be my own 1 oh, you must not die !" 
 
 "God has called me," she answered; "I cannot stay. Re- 
 member me, grandpapa, and George, when I am gone — re- 
 member little Cannie, who loved you so I — who — will meet 
 you where — suffering never comes !" 
 
 She never spoke again. Bending over her couch, they 
 caught her last sigh. 
 
 The old man clasped his hands, and slowly raising his 
 eyes to heaven, murmured with a low, terrible groan: 
 
 " God take the spirit of my child, and may I follow her 1" 
 
 George buried his face in the counterpane, and pressing 
 his lips wildly to the pale cold hand, only moaned. 
 
 When he rose and looked at her with streaming eyes, she 
 was smiling upon him, even in death. 
 
 Thus she passed away, like a flower, a leaf, a dream of 
 the spring, — and they laid her as she had desired them— by 
 the side of Falconbridge. The story of her life became 
 known to the inhabitants of the region, and it was said that 
 a young gentleman from the low country had nearly died of 
 grief. Then a song began to float about, set to plaintive 
 music — the production it may be of some native bard, of 
 some youth, who was touched by the pathetic story, and 
 who, personating George, sang his grief and despair. He 
 sang it in these simple and unpolished lines, which, handed 
 down traditionally, tell of the sweetness and tenderness ol 
 the maiden — the sorrow of her lover: 
 
 " Down on Jlie Shee&ndoah roving, 
 Long tta» I lingered by the show, 
 
893 
 
 FAIRFAX; OR, 
 
 Cannie by my side, dear and loring— 
 Now she is laughing there no more 
 
 "Bright as a sunbeam on the mountain: 
 Pair as the lily by her side, 
 Fresh as the water in the fountain, 
 Was Cannie, my young Virginia bride 
 
 " Oh ! all the world is sad and dreary 
 Nothing brings me solace all the day — 
 Daytime and night-time I am weary— 
 Cannie's forever gone away ! 
 
 11 Long time I loved her; now a-roaming 
 Wide o'er the world cold and poor, 
 Ofttimes I think I see her coming, 
 Ofttimes I hear her by the shore I" 
 
 Such were the homely lines, to which were attached thii 
 chorus, full of pathos; 
 
 " Oh she was an angel, 
 Last year she died, 
 Toll the bell, a funeral knell 
 For my young Virginia bride ! " 
 
 The melody was sad and plaintive — like the whisper of 
 the wind in the mountain pines — the sigh of the autumn 
 breeze in the broomstraw at twilight; — like the gentle and 
 murmurous lapse of the waves, as they glide away beneath 
 drooping boughs, or under the bending flowers of the 
 meadows. 
 
 By the side of her cousin, whom she had loved so dearly, 
 iiear the grave of Falconbridge, the pure and noble, the 
 child thus serenely slumbered. In the vast wild solitude, 
 on the brow of the great precipice, beneath the outstretched 
 arms of the mighty pine, which bent in the wind, or swayed 
 under the feet of the eagle, these children of nature slept in 
 peace. 
 
 A few words will terminate our chronicle. 
 
tfHE MASTER OP GBEENWAY COURT. 
 
 LXXVL 
 
 THE HEAET OF LOED FAIRFAX. 
 
 INCE the events which we have related, more 
 than thirty years have passed. 
 
 The month of October, 1781, is drawing to its 
 close. 
 
 In a house in Winchester, a man of about eighty, with 
 long gray hair, thickly powdered; a thin, worn countenance, 
 bearing the marks of illness; and an attenuated figure clad 
 in a richly embroidered dressing-gown, sits in a large arm- 
 chair, supported by pillows, extending his hands from time 
 to time toward a cheerful blaze in the wide fireplace. 
 
 At three paces from him, erect, silent, and watchful, stands 
 an old servant, with hair as gray as his master's, but a face 
 still hale and ruddy in spite of his great age. 
 
 " John," says the invalid, in a thin, weak voice. 
 
 « My lord." 
 
 And the old servant approaches his master. 
 
 " "What noise was that, which I heard ? They were shout* 
 mg in the street, I thought. Has any intelligence arrived 
 from the army? You came in a moment ago, and must 
 be informed. What intelligence ? " 
 
 Old John hesitates. Upon his countenance it is easy to 
 read an expression of acute pain. 
 
 "Speak!" Lord Fairfax says, in his weak and faltering 
 voice. "Lord Cornwallis has not evacuated Yorktown! 
 It is not possible 1" 
 
 " No my lord," is the low reply. 
 
 " What then r 
 
400 
 
 FAIRFAX 0% 
 
 John hesitates again. His master turns toward him witfc 
 querulous energy. 
 
 " Am I to have a reply, or are you dumb ? " he says. 
 
 Old John sighs, and looks at Lord Fairfax with deep 
 affection and sympathy. 
 
 "The news is bad, my lord," he says, "and I would 
 rather not tell it." 
 
 " Bad ? speak ! I am not a baby ! CornwalHs has not 
 evacutated Yorktown, you say — what then ?" 
 
 " Worse than that, my lord." 
 
 Lord Fan*fax rose suddenly erect in his chair. 
 
 " Worse ? what do you ni«u*n ?" 
 
 Ol3 John groans this turn 
 
 " I thought to keep the news from you, my lord. But 
 you order me to speak, and I obey your order. My lord, 
 Cornwallis has surrendered his army." 
 
 "Surrendered!" 
 
 " Yes, my lord !" groans old John. 
 
 "To George Washington?" 
 
 "Yes, my lord." 
 
 Lord Fairfax sinks back, and. a groan of inexpressible an- 
 guish tears its way from the trembling breast. 
 
 " That boy ! that boy I" he murmurs, " the child whom I 
 brought up! The English dominion in North America 
 overturned by that curly pate J" 
 
 A spasm passes over the features of the old earl, as he 
 utters these words. He totters in his chair. Suddenly he 
 extends his arms toward the old servant, closes his eyes f 
 and murmurs. 
 
 " Take me to bed, John, it is time for me to die !" * 
 
 Six months afterwards he was dead. 
 
 Eia word* 
 
THE MASTER OF GREEK WAT OCUBT. 
 
 401 
 
 LXXYIL 
 
 THE HEART OF GEORGE. 
 
 MONTH after this scene — that is to say, in No- 
 vember, 1781 — a cavalier coming from the east 
 by way of Ashby's gap, forded the Shenandoah, 
 G&MIMssSc and entered the Valley. 
 
 \He was a man of about fifty, tall, powerful, as straight as 
 an arrow, and with something proud and imposing in his 
 appearance and carriage. His eyes were clear and pene- 
 trating, his lips firm, the poise of the head indicative of 
 command. He wore the full dress uniform of a general of 
 the American army, and rode an excellent horse, which went 
 along gaily beneath his powerful rider, through the Novem- 
 ber sunshine. 
 
 Passing to the left of the little village of Millwood, the 
 stranger threw a glance toward " Saratoga," the residence 
 of General Morgan, which was seen on a hill across the 
 woods, on his right; then he continued his way, reached 
 the town of White Post, turned to the left at the post,- which 
 still stood in the main street, and pushing on, reached 
 Greenway Court, in its great lawn, backed by woods. 
 
 Dismounting in front of the deserted mansion, the stran- 
 ger tethered his horse to a bough, pushed open the decayed 
 door, and entered the house. 
 
 All was silent and dreary. The rooms were bare and 
 desolate. The panes of the windows were broken; the spi- 
 ders had woven their webs everywhere; and the dust lay 
 half an inch deep on the discolored floor. 
 
 The stranger gazed around him for a mement. Threw a 
 
402 
 
 FAIRFAX ; JB, 
 
 glance toward the staircase, as if he thought of ascending it 
 out apparently gave up the design, and a moment after- 
 wards left the house, going back to his horse. 
 
 He had not uttered a word. With a parting glance at the 
 mansion, he mounted, and rode in the direction of the 
 Massinutton. 
 
 He crossed the river, and entered the gorge, along the 
 bank of Passage Creek, as the sun was declining. 
 
 Pushing on, as though he were afraid of being benighted, 
 he followed the narrow and winding road up the slope of th* 
 mountain, and in half an hour came in front of a snial 
 house, with a great rock at its back. 
 
 A moment afterward, he had dismounted, approached 
 the house, and forced an entrance through the creaking 
 door. 
 
 The house was deserted. Some broken furniture alone 
 indicated that it had once been occupied. The stranger 
 looked around him with painful earnestness, and then went 
 toward a small apartment, upon one side of the main room, 
 his heavy heels armed with huge spurs clashing upon the 
 decayed floor, and arousing a hundred echoes. 
 
 The smaller apartment was bare like the larger, but the 
 stranger suddenly stooped and picked up an object from 
 the floor. It was a small portion of a woman's or a child's 
 ruffle, apparently — such as at that period decorated the up- 
 per edge of the bodica An imperceptible tremor passed 
 over the stalwart frame of the personage as he gazed at the 
 object in his hand; then having satisfied his curiosity ap~ 
 pare* tly, he placed it in his bosom. 
 
 Returning to the front door of the mansion, he cast a final 
 look around him, taking in at a glance every feature, every 
 detail. All was ruinous, deserted; the spot had a melan 
 choly air about it — and the stranger slowly remounted his 
 horse, and left it, muttering: 
 
•CHE MASTER Off GREENWAT COURT. 408 
 
 " I can scarcely realize that it is the same 1" 
 Instead of returning by the same road, he directed his 
 way along a devious bridle-path toward a mighty pine which 
 raised its trunk against the sky, on the very summit of the 
 mountain, at the point where it sank suddenly into the val- 
 ley. After great exertion, his horse stumbling frequently, 
 he reached a spot beyond which it seemed impossible to 
 proceed. He solved the difficulty by dismounting and ad- 
 vancing on foot. Even then the a'scent was arduous. The 
 huge masses of granite were piled up like a Titanic pyramid, 
 but he finally surmounted all obstacles and reached the foot 
 of the great pine. 
 
 It grew in a narrow patch of soil, encircled by rocks; at 
 its foot were three graves, marked by moss-covered slabs of 
 marble. 
 
 The stranger stopped to breathe for an instant, and his 
 glance swept the immense horizon of mountain, valley and 
 river. From his great elevation he looked down upon a 
 vast extent of country stretched beneath him like a map, 
 and the view was sublime in its wild magnificence. 
 
 But the wanderer had evidently come with no intention 
 to gaze at the landscape. He dwelt upon it for a moment 
 only — then his glance was directed toward the grave-stones. 
 
 He stooped down, and pushing aside the moss, read the 
 inscription upon the largest of the three. 
 
 The inscription was as follows: 
 
 " Beneath this ftone lies 
 Edmund Viscount Fairfax, only fon of Thomas 
 Lord Fairfax, of Denton, England. 
 God rest him." 
 
 The stranger gazed long and sorrowfully upon the words, 
 recalling plainly some scenes of the past which the name on 
 the stone suggested. His head drooped, and a deep sigh 
 issued from his lips as he murmured: 
 
 \ 
 
*04 
 
 FAIRFAX ; OB, 
 
 u There lies the noblest heart I have ever known— a great, 
 /lie soul, full of kindness and honor — a gentleman of the 
 antique days of knighthood. Yes, yes, God rest him ! The 
 Supreme, the All-seeing, the Bewarder of charity and love, 
 and faith — has He not received to his eternal rest this noble 
 suffering soul ? Who was ever like him ? I have met with 
 no other human being so great! Falconbridge 1 Falcon- 
 bridge ! your death was a glorious one ! You died as you 
 had lived — a true gentleman !" 
 
 The head drooped lower as these almost inaudible words 
 escaped from the lips of the stranger. He remained for 
 some time, gazing at the stone, his shoulders drooping, his 
 breast heaving — then drawing a long breath, he fixed his 
 eyes upon the one beside it, which bore this inscription only 
 "To the memory of 
 
 Bertha Argal, 
 Beautiful and unhappy." 
 " Yes, yes,'* the stranger murmured, " very beautiful — very 
 unhappy — poor child of misfortune !" 
 
 And his sad glance wandered toward the third tomb- 
 stems. He seemed almost to dread deciphering it—but set- 
 ting his lips close, knelt down and read what was cut upoa 
 the marble. 
 These were the words: 
 
 " Here lies the body of Cannie, 
 the daughter of an Englifh 
 gentleman : 
 Born in England, May the 10th, 1733, 
 Died in Virginia, May the 9th, 1749* 
 'And he took them up in his arms, put his hands upon them, 
 and blessed them.' " 
 
 The stranger riveted his eyes upon this inscription witli 
 an expression of such anguish that it was plain the stone 
 covered a great sorrow. His broad breast was shaken, hi* 
 
"•HE MASTER OF GREENWAT COURT. 405 
 
 | dear, penetrating eyes slowly filled with tears, and kii 
 J eheeks flushed with passionate emotion, 
 j* Mastered by a sudden impulse, he took from his pocket • 
 < pencil, and after the words: 
 
 " Here lies the body of Cannie ..." 
 
 «Tote, iD addition: 
 
 . . . 4 ' And the heart of Gkokgs, 
 Born in Weftmoreland, Virginia. 
 February 2 2d, 1732: 
 Died the fame day and hour, 
 May 9th, 1749. 
 
 As tL<3 stranger finished the addition to the inscription, 
 two tears rolled • down bis cheeks, and fell upon the stone, 
 Burying his face in the long grass growing upon the grave, 
 he sobbed, rather than said, in a hoarse and broken voice: 
 
 " Farewell youth ! farewell happiness I farewell dream of 
 my boyhood 1 The earth is dreary since you went hw%j 
 Farewell until we meet again !" 
 
IT I