In Far Bolivia: A Story of a Strange Wild Land

CHAPTER VII-"A COLD HAND SEEMED TO CLUTCH HER HEART"

Many months passed away pleasantly and happilyenough on the old plantation. The children-Roland,by the way, would hardly have liked to becalled a child now-were, of course, under the abletuition of Mr. Simons, but in addition Peggy had agoverness, imported directly from Pará.

This was a dark-eyed Spanish girl, very piquantand pretty, who talked French well, and played onboth the guitar and piano.

Tom St. Clair had not only his boy's welfare, buthis niece's, or adopted daughter's, also at heart.

It would be some years yet before she arrived atthe age of sweet seventeen, but when she did, heruncle determined to sell off or realize on his plantation, his goods and chattels, and sail across the seas oncemore to dear old Cornwall and the real Burnley Hall.

He looked forward to that time as the wearyworker in stuffy towns or cities does to a summerholiday.

There is excitement enough in money-making, it islike an exhilarating game of billiards or whist, but itis apt to become tiresome.

And Tom St. Clair was often overtired and weary.He was always glad when he reached home at nightto his rocking-chair and a good dinner, after toilingall day in the recently-started india-rubber-forest works.

But Mr. Peter took a vast deal of labour off his hands.

Mr. Peter, or Don Pedro, ingratiated himself withnearly everyone from the first, and seemed to take tothe work as if to the manner born.

There were three individuals, however, who couldnot like him, strange to say; these were Peggy herself,Benee the Indian who had guided them through theforest when lost, and who had remained on the estateever since, while the third was Brawn, the Irish wolf-hound.

The dog showed his teeth if Peter tried even tocaress him.

Both Roland and Dick-the latter was a veryfrequent visitor-got on very well with Peter-trustedhim thoroughly.

"How is it, Benee," said Roland one day to theIndian, "that you do not love Don Pedro?"

Benee spat on the ground and stamped his foot.

"I watch he eye," the semi-savage replied. "Heone very bad man. Some day you know plentymoochee foh true."

"Well," said Tom one evening as he and his wifesat alone in the verandah together, "I do long to getback to England. I am tired, dear wife-my heart isweak why should we remain here over two yearsmore? We are wealthy enough, and I promise myselfand you, dear, many long years of health andhappiness yet in the old country."

He paused and smoked a little; then, after watchingfor a few moments the fireflies that flitted from bushto bush, he stretched his left arm out and rested hishand on his wife's lap.

Some impulse seized her. She took it and pressedit to her lips. But a tear trickled down her cheek asshe did so.

Lovers still this couple were, though nearly twentyyears had elapsed since he led her, a bonnie, buxom, blushing lassie, to the altar.

But now in a sweet, low, but somewhat sad voice hesang a verse of that dear old song-"We have livedand loved together": -

 
"We have lived and loved together
Through many changing years,
We have shared each other's gladness
And dried each other's tears.
I have never known a sorrow
That was long unsoothed by thee,
For thy smile can make a summer
Where darkness else would be.
 

Mrs. St. Clair would never forget that evening onthe star-lit lawn, nor the flitting, little fire-insects, norher husband's voice.

—

Is it not just when we expect it least that sorrowsometimes falls suddenly upon us, hiding or eclipsingall our promised happiness and joy?

I have now to write a pitiful part of my too truestory, but it must be done.

Next evening St. Clair rode home an hour earlier.

He complained of feeling more tired than usual, and said he would lie down on the drawing-room sofauntil dinner was ready.

Peggy went singing along the hall to call him atthe appointed time.

She went singing into the room.

"Pa, dear," she cried merrily; "Uncle-pa, dinner isall beautifully ready!"

"Come, Unky-pa. How sound you sleep!"

Then a terror crept up from the earth, as it were, and a cold hand seemed to clutch her heart.

She ran out of the room.

"Oh, Auntie-ma!" she cried, "come, come quickly,pa won't wake, nor speak!"

Heigho! the summons had come, and dear "Uncle-pa"would never, never wake again.

This is a short chapter, but it is too sad to continue.

So falls the curtain on the first act of this life-drama.

CHAPTER VIII-FIERCELY AND WILDLY BOTH SIDES FOUGHT

The gloomy event related in last chapter must notbe allowed to cast a damper over our story.

Of course death is always and everywhere hoveringnear, but why should boys like you and me, reader, permit that truth to cloud our days or stand betweenus and happiness?

Two years, then, have elapsed since poor, brave TomSt. Clair's death.

He is buried near the edge of the forest in abeautiful enclosure where rare shrubs grow, and whereflowers trail and climb far more beautiful than anywe ever see in England.

At first Mrs. St. Clair had determined to sell all offand go back to the old country, but her overseer JakeSolomons and Mr. Peter persuaded her not to, or itseemed that it was their advice which kept her fromcarrying out her first intentions. But she had anotherreason, she found she could not leave that lonesomegrave yet awhile.

So the years passed on.

The estate continued to thrive.

Roland was now a handsome young fellow in hiseighteenth year, and Peggy, now beautiful beyondcompare, was nearly fifteen.

Dick Temple, the bold and reckless huntsman andhorseman, was quieter now in his attentions towardsher. She was no longer the child that he could lifton to his broad young shoulders and carry, neighingand galloping like a frightened colt, round and roundthe lawn.

And Roland felt himself a man. He was moresober and sedate, and had taken over all his father'swork and his father's responsibilities. But for all that, lightly enough lay the burden on his heart.

For he had youth on his side, and

"In the lexicon of youth which fate reserves

For a bright manhood there is no such word

As fail".

—

I do not, however, wish to be misunderstood. Itmust not be supposed that Roland had no difficultiesto contend with, that all his business life wasas fair and serene as a bright summer's day. Onthe contrary, he had many losses owing to thefluctuations of the markets and the failures of great firms, owing to fearful storms, and more than once owingto strikes or revolts among his Indians in the greatindia-rubber forest.

But Roland was light-hearted and young, and difficultiesin life, I have often said, are just like nine-pins, they are put up to be bowled over.

Besides, be it remembered that if it were all plainsailing with us in this world we should not be able toappreciate how really happy our lives are. The skyis always bluest 'twixt the darkest clouds.

On the whole, Roland, who took stock, and, withhonest Bill and Jake Solomons, went over the booksevery quarter, had but little reason to complain.This stock-taking consumed most of their sparetime for the greater part of a week, and when it wasfinished Roland invariably gave a dinner-party, atwhich I need hardly say his dear friend Dick Templewas present. And this was always the happiest ofhappy nights to Dick, because the girl he loved morethan all things on earth put together was here, andlooked so innocent and beautiful in her simple dressesof white and blue.

There was no such thing as flirtation here, but Dickwas fully and completely in earnest when he toldhimself that if he lived till he was three- orfour-and-twenty he would ask Peggy to be his wife.

Ah! there is many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip.

Dick, I might, could, would, or should have toldyou before, lived with a bachelor uncle, who, beingrather old and infirm, seldom came out. He had goodearnest men under him, however, as overseers, and hisplantations were thriving, especially that in whichtobacco was cultivated.

The old man was exceedingly fond of Dick, andDick would be his heir.

Probably it was for his uncle's sake that Dickstayed in the country-and of course for Peggy'sand Roland's-for, despite its grand field for sportand adventure, the lad had a strange longing to go toEngland and play cricket or football.

He had been born in Britain just as Roland was, and had visited his childhood's home more than onceduring his short life.

Now just about this time Don Pedro, or Mr. Peteras all called him, had asked for and obtained aholiday. He was going to Pará for a change, he said, andto meet a friend from England.

That he did meet a friend from England there waslittle doubt, but their interview was a very short one.Where he spent the rest of his time was best knownto himself.

In three months or a little less he turned up smilingagain, and most effusive.

About a fortnight after his arrival he came to Jakeone morning pretty early.

Jake was preparing to start on horseback for thegreat forest.

"I'm on the horns of a dilemma, Mr. Solomons," hesaid, laughing his best laugh. "During the nightabout twenty Bolivian Indians have encamped nearto the forest. They ask for work on the india-rubbertrees. They are well armed, and all sturdy warriors.They look as if fighting was more in their line thanhonest labour."

"Well, Mr. Peter, what is their excuse for beinghere anyhow?"

"They are bound for the sea-shore at the mouths ofthe river, and want to earn a few dollars to help them on."

"Well, where is the other horn of the dilemma?"

"Oh! if I give them work they may corrupt our fellows."

"Then, Mr. Peter, I'd give the whole blessed lot theboot and the sack."

"Ah! now, Mr. Solomons, you've got to the otherhorn. These savages, for they are little else, arerevengeful."

"We're not afraid."

"No, we needn't be were they to make war openly, but they are sly, and as dangerous as sly. They wouldin all probability burn us down some dark night."

Jake mused for a minute. Then he said abruptly:

"Let the poor devils earn a few dollars, Mr. Peter,if they are stony-broke, and then send them on theirway rejoicing."

"That's what I say, too," said Burly Bill, who hadjust come up. "I've been over yonder in the starlight.They look deuced uncouth and nasty. So does a bull-dog,Jake, but is there a softer-hearted, more kindlydog in all creation?"

So that very day the Indians set to work with theother squads.

The labour connected with the collecting of india-rubberis by no means very hard, but it requires alittle skill, and is irksome to those not used to suchtoil.

But labour is scarce and Indians are often lazy, soon the whole Jake was not sorry to have the newhands, or "serinqueiros" as they are called.

The india-rubber trees are indigenous and grow ingreatest profusion on that great tributary of theAmazon called the Madeira. But when poor TomSt. Clair came to the country he had an eye to business.He knew that india-rubber would always command agood market, and so he visited the distant forests, studied the growth and culture of the trees asconducted by Nature, and ventured to believe that hecould improve upon her methods.

He was successful, and it was not a great manyyears before he had a splendid plantation of youngtrees in his forest, to say nothing of the older onesthat had stood the brunt of many a wild tropicalstorm.

It will do no harm if I briefly describe the methodof obtaining the india-rubber. Tiny pots of tin, holding about half a pint, are hung under an incisionin the bark of the tree, and these are filled andemptied every day, the contents being delivered bythe Indian labourers at the house or hut of anunder-overseer.

The sap is all emptied into larger utensils, and alarge smoking fire, made of the nuts of a curious kindof palm called the Motokoo, being built, the operatorsdip wooden shovels into the sap, twirling these roundquickly and holding them in the smoke. Coagulationtakes place very quickly. Again the shovel is dippedin the sap, and the same process is repeated until thecoagulated rubber is about two inches thick, when itis cooled, cut, or sliced off, and is ready for the distantmarket.

Now, from the very day of their arrival, there wasno love lost between the old and steady hands andthis new band of independent and flighty ones.

The latter were willing enough to slice the barkand to hang up their pannikins, and they would evenempty them when filled, and condescend to carry theircontents to the preparing-house. But they were lazyin the extreme at gathering the nuts, and positivelyrefused to smoke the sap and coagulate it.

It made them weep, they explained, and it wasmuch more comfortable to lie and wait for the sapwhile they smoked and talked in their own strangelanguage.

After a few days the permanent hands refused towork at the same trees, or even in the same part ofthe estrados or roads that led through the plantationof rubber-trees.

A storm was brewing, that was evident. Nor wasit very long before it burst.

All unconscious that anything was wrong, Peggy, with Brawn, was romping about one day enjoyingthe busy scene, Peggy often entering into conversationwith some of her old favourites, when one of thestrange Indians, returning from the tub with anempty tin, happened to tread on Brawn's tail.

The dog snarled, but made no attempt to bite.Afraid, however, that he would spring upon the fellow,Peggy threw herself on the ground, encircling herarms around Brawn's shoulders, and it was she whoreceived the blow that was meant for the dog.

It cut her across the arm, and she fainted with pain.

Brawn sprang at once upon his man and broughthim down.

He shook the wretch as if he had been but a rat, and blood flowed freely.

Burly Bill was not far off, and just as the greathound had all but fixed the savage by the windpipe, which he would undoubtedly have torn out, Bill pulledhim off by the collar and pacified him.

The blood-stained Indian started to his legs tomake good his retreat, but as his back was turned inflight, Bill rushed after him and dealt him a kick thatlaid him prone on his face.

This was the signal for a general mêlée, and aterrible one it was!

Bill got Peggy pulled to one side, and gave her incharge to Dick, who had come thundering across onhis huge horse towards the scene of conflict.

Under the shelter of a spreading tree Dick liftedhis precious charge. But she speedily revived whenhe laid her flat on the ground. She smiled feeblyand held out her hand, which Dick took and kissed, the tears positively trickling over his cheeks.

Perhaps it was a kind of boyish impulse that causedhim to say what he now said:

"Oh, Peggy, my darling, how I love you! Whereeveryou are, dear, wherever I am-oh, always thinkof me a little!"

That was all.

A faint colour suffused Peggy's cheek for just amoment. Then she sat up, and the noble houndanxiously licked her face.

But she had made no reply.

Meanwhile the mêlée went merrily on, as a DonnybrookIrishman might remark.

Fiercely and wildly both sides fought, using asweapons whatsoever came handiest.

But soon the savages were beaten and discomfitedwith, sad to tell, the loss of one life-that of asavage.

Not only Jake himself, but Roland and Mr. Peterwere now on the scene of the recent conflict. Closeto Peter's side, watching every movement of his lipsand eyes, stood Benee, the Indian who had saved thechildren.

Several times Peter looked as if he felt uneasy, and once he turned towards Benee as if about to speak.

He said nothing, and the man continued his watchfulscrutiny.

After consulting for a short time together, Jake andRoland, with Burly Bill, determined to hold a court ofinquiry on the spot.

But, strange to say, Peter kept aloof. He continuedto walk to and fro, and Benee still hung in his rear.But this ex-savage was soon called upon to act asinterpreter if his services should be needed, whichthey presently were.

Every one of the civilized Indians had the samestory to tell of the laziness and insolence of theBolivians, and now Jake ordered the chief of theother party to come forward.

They sulked for a short time.

But Jake drew his pistols, and, one in each hand, stepped out and ordered all to the front.

They made no verbal response to the questions putto them through Benee. Their only reply was scowling.

"Well, Mr. St. Clair," said Jake, "my advice is topay these rascals and send them off."

"Good!" said Roland. "I have money."

The chief was ordered to draw nearer, and thedollars were counted into his claw-like fist.

The fellow drew up his men in a line and gave toeach his pay, reserving his own.

Then at a signal, given by the chief, there wasraised a terrible war-whoop and howl.

The chief spat on his dollars and dashed them intoa neighbouring pool. Every man did the same.

Roland was looking curiously on. He was wonderingwhat would happen next.

He had not very long to wait, for with his foot thechief turned the dead man on his back, and the bloodfrom his death-stab poured out afresh.

He dipped his palm in the red stream and held itup on high. His men followed his example.

Then all turned to the sun, and in one voice utteredjust one word, which, being interpreted by Benee, wasunderstood to mean-REVENGE!

They licked the blood from their hands, and, turninground, marched in silence and in single file outand away from the forest and were seen no more.

CHAPTER IX-THAT TREE IN THE FOREST GLADE

The things, the happenings, I have now to tell youof in this chapter form the turning-point in ourstory.

Weeks passed by after the departure of thatmysterious band of savages, and things went on in thesame old groove on the plantation.

Whence the savages had come, or whither they hadgone, none could tell. But all were relieved at theirexit, dramatic and threatening though it had been.

The hands were all very busy now everywhere, andone day, it being the quarter's end, after taking stockRoland gave his usual dinner-party, and a ball to hisnatives. These were all dressed out as gaily as gailycould be. The ladies wore the most tawdry of finery, most of which they had bought, or rather had hadbrought them by their brothers and lovers from Pará,and nothing but the most pronounced evening dressdid any "lady of colour" deign to wear.

Why should they not ape the quality, and "pohdeah Miss Peggy".

Peggy was very happy that evening, and so I needhardly say was Dick Temple. Though he never haddared to speak of love again, no one could have lookedat those dark daring eyes of his and said it was notthere.

It must have been about eleven by the clock and abright moonlight night when Dick started to ridehome. He knew the track well, he said, and couldnot be prevailed upon to stay all night. Besides, hisuncle expected him.

The dinner and ball given to the plantation handshad commenced at sunset, or six o'clock, and aftersinging hymns-a queer finish to a most hilariousdance-all retired, and by twelve of the clock not asound was to be heard over all the plantation savenow and then the mournful cry of the shriek-owl or aplash in the river, showing that the 'gators preferreda moonshiny night to daylight itself.

The night wore on, one o'clock, two o'clock chimedfrom the turret on Burnley Hall, and soon after this, had anyone been in the vicinity he would have seena tall figure, wrapped in cloak and hood, steal awayfrom the house adown the walks that led from theflowery lawns. The face was quite hidden, but severaltimes the figure paused, as if to listen and glancearound, then hurried on once more, and finallydisappeared in the direction of the forest.

Peggy's bedroom was probably the most tastefully-arrangedand daintily-draped in the house, and whenshe lay down to-night and fell gently asleep, verysweet indeed were the dreams that visited her pillow.The room was on a level with the river lawn, onto which it opened by a French or casement window.Three o'clock!

The moon shone on the bed, and even on the girl'sface, but did not awaken her.

A few minutes after this, and the casement windowwas quietly opened, and the same cloaked figure, which stole away from the mansion an hour before, softly entered.

It stood for more than half a minute erect andlistening, then, bending low beside the bed, listened amoment there.

Did no spectral dream cross the sleeping girl's visionto warn her of the dreadful fate in store for her?

Had she shrieked even now, assistance would havebeen speedily forthcoming, and she might have beensaved!

But she quietly slumbered on.

Then the dark figure retreated as it had come, andpresently another and more terrible took its place-aburly savage carrying a blanket or rug.

First the girl's clothing and shoes, her watch andall her trinkets, were gathered up and handed tosomeone on the lawn.

Then the savage, approaching the bed with stealthyfootsteps, at once enveloped poor Peggy in the rugand bore her off.

For a moment she uttered a muffled moan or two, like a nightmare scream, then all was still as thegrave.

—

"Missie Peggy! Missie Peggy," cried Beeboo nextmorning at eight as she entered the room. "What foryou sleep so long? Ah!" she added sympathizingly, still holding the door-knob in her hand. "Ah! butden the poh chile very tired. Dance plenty mooch las'night, and-"

She stopped suddenly.

Something unusual in the appearance of the bedattire attracted her attention and she speedily rushedtowards it.

She gave vent at once to a loud yell, and Rolandhimself, who was passing near, ran in immediately.

He stood like one in a state of catalepsy, with hiseyes fixed on the empty bed. But he recoveredshortly.

"Oh, this is a fearful day!" he cried, and hastenedout to acquaint Jake and Bill, both of whom, as wellas Mr. Peter, slept in the east wing of the mansion.

He ran from door to door knocking very loud andshouting: "Awake, awake, Peggy has gone! She hasbeen kidnapped, and the accursed savages have hadtheir revenge!"

In their pyjamas only, Jake and Bill appeared, andafter a while Mr. Peter, fully dressed.

He looked sleepy.

"I had too much wine last night," he said, with ayawn, "and slept very heavily all night. But whatis the matter?"

He was quietly and quickly informed.

"This is indeed a fearful blow, but surely we cantrace the scoundrels!"

"Boys, hurry through with your breakfast," saidRoland. "Jake, I will be back in a few minutes."

He whistled shrilly and Brawn came rushing to his side.

"Follow me, Brawn."

His object was to find out in which direction thesavages had gone.

Had Brawn been a blood-hound he could soon havepicked up the scent.

As it was, however, his keen eyes discovered thetrail on the lawn, and led him to the gate. He howledimpatiently to have it opened, then bounded out andaway towards the forest in a westerly and southerlydirection, which, if pursued far enough, would leadtowards Bolivia, along the wild rocky banks of theMadeira River.

It was a whole hour before Brawn returned. Hecarried something in his mouth. He soon found hismaster, and laid the something gently down at hisfeet, stretching himself-grief-stricken-beside it.

It was one of Peggy's boots, with a white silkstocking in it, drenched in blood.

The white men and Indians were now fully aroused, and, leaving Jake in charge of the estate, Rolandpicked out thirty of the best men, armed them withguns, and placed them under the command of BurlyBill. Then they started off in silence, Roland andBurly mounted, the armed whites and Indians on foot.

Brawn went galloping on in front in a very excitedmanner, often returning and barking wildly at thehorses as if to hurry them on.

Throughout that forenoon they journeyed by thetrail, which was now distinct enough, and led throughthe jungle and forest.

They came out on to a clearing about one o'clock.Here was water in abundance, and as they were allthoroughly exhausted, they threw themselves downby the spring to quench their thirst and rest.

Bill made haste now to deal out the provisions, andafter an hour, during which time most of them slept, they resumed their journey.

A mile or two farther on they came to a sightwhich almost froze their blood.

In the middle of a clearing or glade stood a greattree. It was hollowed out at one side, and againstthis was still a heap of half-charred wood, evidentlythe remains of a fierce fire, though every ember haddied black out.

Here was poor Peggy's other shoe. That too wasbloody.

And here was a pool of coagulated blood, withhuge rhinoceros beetles busy at their work ofexcavation. Portions or rags of dress also!

It was truly an awful sight!

Roland reined up his horse, and placed his righthand over his eyes.

"Bill," he managed to articulate, "can you havethe branches removed, and let us know the fearfulworst?"

Burly Bill gave the order, and the Indians tossedthe half-burned wood aside.

Then they pulled out bone after bone of limbs,of arms, of ribs. But all were charred almost intocinders!

Roland now seemed to rise to the occasion.

He held his right arm on high.

"Bill," he cried; "here, under the blazing sun andabove the remains, the dust of my dead sister, Iregister a vow to follow up these fiends to theirdistant homes, if Providence shall but lead us aright, and to slay and burn every wretch who has aided orabetted this terrible deed!"

"I too register that vow," said Bill solemnly.

"And I, and I!" shouted the white men, and eventhe Indians.

They went on again once more, after burying thecharred bones and dust.

But the trail took them to a ford, and beyond thestream there was not the imprint of even a singlefootstep.

The retiring savages must either have doubled backon their tracks or waded for miles up or down therocky stream before landing.

Nothing more could be done to-day, for the sun wasalready declining, and they must find their way outof the gloom of the forest before darkness. So thereturn journey was made, and just as the sun's redbeams were crimsoning the waters of the westernriver, they arrived once more at the plantation andBurnley Hall.

The first to meet them was Peter himself. Heseemed all anxiety.

"What have you found?" he gasped.

It was a moment or two before Roland could reply.

"Only the charred remains of my poor sister!" hesaid at last, then compressed his mouth in an effortto keep back the tears.

The Indian who took so lively an interest inMr. Peter was not far away, and was watching his manas usual.

None noticed, save Benee himself, that Mr. Peterheaved something very like a sigh of relief as Roland'swords fell on his ears.

Burnley Hall was now indeed a castle of gloom; but although poor Mrs. St. Clair was greatly castdown, the eager way in which Roland and Dick weremaking their preparations to follow up the savageIndians, even to the confines or interior, if necessary,of their own domains, gave her hope.

Luckily they had already found a clue to theirwhereabouts, for one of the civilized Bolivians knewthat very chief, and indeed had come from the samefar-off country. He described the people as a raceof implacable savages and cannibals, into whose territoryno white man had ever ventured and returned alive.

Were they a large tribe? No, not large, not overthree or four thousand, counting women and children.Their arms? These were spears and broadtwo-bladed knives, with great slings, from which theycould hurl large stones and pieces of flint withunerring accuracy, and bows and arrows. And nonumber of white men could stand against these unlessthey sheltered themselves in trenches or behind rocksand trees.

This ex-cannibal told them also that the land ofthis terrible tribe abounded in mineral wealth, in silverore and even in gold.

For this information Roland cared little; all hewished to do was to avenge poor Peggy's death. Ifhis men, after the fighting, chose to lay out claims hewould permit a certain number of them to do so, their names to be drawn by ballot. The rest mustaccompany the expedition back.

Dick's uncle needed but little persuasion to giveforty white men, fully armed and equipped, to swellRoland's little army of sixty whites. Besides these, they would have with them carriers andammunition-bearers-Indians from the plantations.

Dick was all life and fire. If they were successful,he himself, he said, would shoot the murderous chief,or stab him to the heart.

A brave show indeed did the little army make, whenall mustered and drilled, and every man there wasmost enthusiastic, for all had loved poor lost Peggy.

"I shall remain at my post here, I suppose," saidMr. Peter.

"If I do not alter my mind I shall leave you andJake, with Mr. Roberts, the tutor, to manage theestate in my absence," said Roland.

He did alter his mind, and, as the following willshow, he had good occasion to do so.

One evening the strange Indian Benee, betweenwhom and Peter there existed so much hatred, soughtRoland out when alone.

"Can I speakee you, all quiet foh true?"

"Certainly, my good fellow. Come into my study.Now, what is it you would say?"

"Dat Don Pedro no true man! I tinkee much, andI tinkee dat."

"Well, I know you don't love each other, Benee; but can you give me any proofs of his villainy?"

"You letee me go to-night all myse'f alone to debush. I tinkee I bring you someding strange. Somegood news. Ha! it may be so!"

"I give you leave, and believe you to be a faithfulfellow."

Benee seized his master's hand and bent down hishead till his brow touched it.

Next moment he was gone.

Next morning he was missed.

"Your pretty Indian," said Mr. Peter, with anill-concealed sneer, "is a traitor, then, after all, and aspy, and it was no doubt he who instigated theabduction and the murder, for the sake of revenge, ofyour poor little sister."

"That remains to be seen, Mr. Peter. If he, or anyoneelse on the plantation, is a traitor, he shall hangas high as Haman."

Peter cowered visibly, but smiled his agitation off.

And that same night about twelve, while Rolandsat smoking on the lawn with Dick, all in themoonlight, everyone else having retired-smoking andtalking of the happy past-suddenly the gate hingescreaked, and with a low growl Brawn sprang forward.But he returned almost immediately, wagging his tailand being caressed by Benee himself.

Silently stood the Indian before them, silently as astatue, but in his left hand he carried a small bundlebound up in grass. It was not his place to speakfirst, and both young men were a little startled at hissudden appearance.