Now I want this matter hushed up."
Harold would have spoken, but Arthur implored him with a glance, and answered:
"What a.s.surance can you give us against your outrages in the future?"
"None."
"None! Then why should we compromise with you?"
"Because I"ve got the best hand to-night, and you know it. For her, you know, you"ll do "most anything--now, won"t you?"
The fellow"s complaisant smile caused Arthur to look away with disgust.
He turned to Harold, and they were conferring about Rawbon"s strange proposition, when Oriana raised her head suddenly and her face a.s.sumed an expression of attention, as if her ear had caught a distant sound.
She had not forgotten little Phil, and knowing his sagacity and faithfulness, she depended much upon his having followed her instructions. And indeed, a moment after, the plashing of the hoofs of horses in the wet soil could be distinctly heard.
"Them"s my overseer and his man, I guess," said Rawbon, with composure, and he smiled again as he observed how effectually he had checked the gleam of joy that had lightened Oriana"s face.
""Twas he, you see, that set the dog on Jim"s track, and now he"s following after, that"s all."
He had scarcely concluded, when a vigorous and excited voice was heard, shouting: "There "tis!--there"s the hut, gentlemen! Push on!"
"It is my brother! my brother!" cried Oriana, clasping her hands with joy; and for the first time that night she burst into tears and sobbed on Harold"s shoulder.
Rawbon"s face grew livid with rage and disappointment. He flung open the door and sprang out into the open air; but Oriana could see him pause an instant at the threshold, and stooping, point into the cabin. The low hissing word of command that accompanied the action reached her ear. She knew what it meant and a faint shriek burst from her lips, more perhaps from horror at the demoniac cruelty of the man, than from fear. The next moment, a gigantic bloodhound, gaunt, mud-bespattered and with the froth of fury oozing from his distended jaws, plunged through the doorway and stood glaring in the centre of the cabin.
Oriana stood like a sculptured ideal of terror, white and immovable; Harold with his left arm encircled the rigid form, while his right hand was uplifted, weaponless, but clenched with the energy of despair, till the blood-drops burst from his palm. But Arthur stepped before them both and fixed his calm blue eyes upon the monster"s burning orbs. There was neither fear, nor excitement, nor irresolution in that steadfast gaze--it was like the clear, straightforward glance of a father checking a wayward child--even the habitual sadness lingered in the deep azure, and the features only changed to be cast in more placid mold. It was the struggle of a brave and tranquil soul with the ferocious instincts of the brute. The hound, crouched for a deadly spring, was fascinated by this spectacle of the utter absence of emotion. His huge chest heaved like a billow with his labored respiration, but the regular breathing of the being that awed him was like that of a sleeping child. For full five minutes--but it seemed an age--this silent but terrible duel was being fought, and yet no succor came. Beverly and those who came with him must have changed their course to pursue the fleeing Rawbon.
"Lead her out softly, Harold," murmured Arthur, without changing a muscle or altering his gaze. But the agony of suspense had been too great--Oriana, with a convulsive shudder, swooned and hung like a corpse upon Harold"s arm.
"Oh, G.o.d! she is dying, Arthur!" he could not help exclaiming, for it was indeed a counterpart of death that he held in his embrace.
Then only did Arthur falter for an instant, and the hound was at his throat. The powerful jaws closed with a snap upon his shoulder, and you might have heard the sharp fangs grate against the bone. The shock of the spring brought Arthur to the ground, and man and brute rolled over together, and struggled in the mud and gore. Harold bore the lifeless girl out into the air, and returning, closed the door. He seized a brand, and with both hands levelled a fierce blow at the dog"s neck. The stick shivered like gla.s.s, but the creature only shook his grisly head, but never quit his hold. With his bare hand he seized the live coals from the thickest of the fire and pressed them against the flanks and stomach of the tenacious animal; the brute howled and quivered in every limb, but still the blood-stained fangs were firmly set into the lacerated flesh. With both hands clasped around the monster"s throat, he exerted his strength till the finger-bones seemed to crack. He could feel the pulsations of the dog"s heart grow fainter and slower, and could see in his rolling and upheaved eyeb.a.l.l.s that the death-pang was upon him; but those iron jaws still were locked in the torn shoulder; and as Harold beheld the big drops start from his friend"s ashy brow, and his eyes filming with the leaden hue of unconsciousness, the agonizing thought came to him that the dog and the man were dying together in that terrible embrace.
It was then that he fairly sobbed with the sensation of relief, as he heard the prancing of steeds close by the cabin-door; and Beverly, entering hastily, with a cry of horror, stood one moment aghast as he looked on the frightful scene. Then, with repeated shots from his revolver, he scattered the dog"s brains over Arthur"s blood-stained bosom.
Harold arose, and, faint and trembling with excitement and exhaustion, leaned against the wall. Beverly knelt by the side of the wounded man, and placed his hand above his heart. Harold turned to him with an anxious look.
"He has but fainted from loss of blood," said Beverly. "Harold, where is my sister?"
As he spoke, Oriana, who, in the fresh night air, had recovered from her swoon, pale and with dishevelled hair, appeared at the cabin-door.
Harold and Beverly sought to lead her out before her eyes fell upon Arthur"s bleeding form; but she had already seen the pale, calm face, clotted with blood, but with the beautiful sad smile still lingering upon the parted lips. She appeared to see neither Harold nor her brother, but only those tranquil features, above which the angel of Death seemed already to have brushed his dewy wing. She put aside Beverly"s arm, which was extended to support her, and thrust him away as if he had been a stranger. She unloosed her hand from Harold"s affectionate grasp, and with a long and suppressed moan of intense anguish, she kneeled down in the little pool of blood beside the extended form, with her hands tightly clasped, and wept bitterly.
They raised her tenderly, and a.s.sured her that Arthur was not dead.
"Oh, no! oh, no!" she murmured, as the tears streamed out afresh, "he must not die! He must not die for _me_! He is so good! so brave! A child"s heart, with the courage of a lion. Oh, Harold! why did you not save him?"
But as she took Harold"s hand almost reproachfully, she perceived that it was black and burnt, and he too was suffering; and she leaned her brow upon his bosom and sobbed with a new sorrow.
Beverly was almost vexed at the weakness his sister displayed. It was unusual to her, and he forgot her weariness and the trial she had pa.s.sed. He had been binding some linen about Arthur"s shoulder, and he looked up and spoke to her in a less gentle tone.
"Oriana, you are a child to-night. I have never seen you thus. Come, help me with this bandage."
She sighed heavily, but immediately ceased to weep, and said "Yes,"
calmly and with firmness. Bending beside her brother, without faltering or shrinking, she gave her white fingers to the painful task.
In the stormy midnight, by the fitful glare of the dying embers, those two silent men and that pale woman seemed to be keeping a vigil in an abode of death. And the pattering rain and moan of the night-wind sounded like a dirge.
CHAPTER VII.
Several gentlemen of the neighborhood, whom Beverly, upon hearing little Phil"s story, had hastily summoned to his a.s.sistance, now entered the cabin, together with the male negroes of his household, who had mounted the farm horses and eagerly followed to the rescue of their young mistress. They had been detained without by an unsuccessful pursuit of Rawbon, whose flight they had discovered, but who had easily evaded them in the darkness. A rude litter was constructed for Arthur, but Oriana declared herself well able to proceed on horseback, and would not listen to any suggestion of delay on her account. She mounted Beverly"s horse, while he and Harold supplied themselves from among the horses that the negroes had rode, and thus, slowly and silently, they threaded the lonely forest, while ever and anon a groan from the litter struck painfully upon their ears.
Arrived at the manor house, a physician who had been summoned, p.r.o.nounced Arthur"s hurt to be serious, but not dangerous. Upon receiving this intelligence, Oriana and Harold were persuaded to retire, and Beverly and his aunt remained as watchers at the bedside of the wounded man.
Oriana, despite her agitation, slept well, her rest being only disturbed by fitful dreams, in which Arthur"s pale face seemed ever present, now smiling upon her mournfully, and now locked in the repose of death. She arose somewhat refreshed, though still feverish and anxious, and walking upon the veranda to breathe the morning air, she was joined by Harold, with his hand in a sling, and much relieved by the application of a poultice, which the skill of Miss Randolph had prepared. He informed her that Arthur was sleeping quietly, and that she might dismiss all fears as to his safety; and perhaps, if he had watched her closely, the earnest expression of something more than pleasure with which she received this a.s.surance, might have given him cause for rumination.
Beverly descended soon afterward, and confirmed the favorable report from the sick chamber, and Oriana retired into the house to a.s.sist in preparing the morning meal.
"Let us take a stroll by the riverside," said Beverly; "the air breathes freshly after my night"s vigil."
"The storm has left none but traces of beauty behind," observed Harold, as they crossed the lawn. The loveliness of the early morning was indeed a pleasant sequel to the rude tempest of the preceding night. The dewdrops glistened upon gra.s.s-blade and foliage, and the bosom of the stream flashed merrily in the sunbeams.
"It is," answered Beverly, "as if Nature were rejoicing that the war of the elements is over, and a peace proclaimed. Would that the black cloud upon our political horizon had as happily pa.s.sed away."
After a pause, he continued: "Harold, you need not fear to remain with us a while longer. I am sure that Rawbon"s confederates are heartily ashamed of their partic.i.p.ation in last night"s outrage, and will on no account be seduced to a similar adventure. Rawbon himself will not be likely to show himself in this vicinity for some time to come, unless as the inmate of a jail, for I have ordered a warrant to be issued against him. The whole affair has resulted evidently from some unaccountable antipathy which the fellow entertains against us."
"I agree with you," replied Harold, "but still I think this is an unpropitious time for the prolongation of my visit. There are events, I fear, breeding for the immediate future, in which I must take a part. I shall only remain with you a few days, that I may be a.s.sured of Arthur"s safety."
"I will not disguise from you my impression that Virginia will withdraw from the Union. In that case, we will be nominal enemies. G.o.d grant that our paths may not cross each other."
"Amen!" replied Harold, with much feeling. "But I do not understand why we should be enemies. You surely will not lend your voice to this rebellion?"
"When the question of secession is before the people of my State, I shall cast my vote as my judgment and conscience shall dictate.
Meanwhile I shall examine the issue, and, I trust, dispa.s.sionately. But whatever may become of my individual opinion, where Virginia goes I go, whatever be the event."
"Would you uphold a wrong in the face of your own conscience?"
"Oh, as to that, I do not hold it a question between right and wrong, but simply of advisability. The right of secession I entertain no doubt about."
"No doubt as to the right of dismembering and destroying a government which has fostered your infancy, developed your strength, and made you one among the parts of a nation that has no peer in a world"s history?
Is it possible that intellect and honesty can harbor such a doctrine!"
"My dear Harold, you look at the subject as an enthusiast, and you allow your heart not to a.s.sist but to control your brain. Men, by a.s.sociation, become attached to forms and symbols, so as in time to believe that upon their existence depends the substance of which they are but the signs.
Forty years ago, in the Hawaiian Islands, the death-penalty was inflicted upon a native of the inferior caste, should he chance to pa.s.s over the shadow of one of n.o.ble birth. So would you avenge an insult to a shadow, while you allow the substance to be stolen from your grasp.
Our jewel, as freemen, is the right of self-government; the form of government is a mere convenience--a machine, which may be dismembered, destroyed, remodelled a thousand times, without detriment to the great principle of which it is the outward sign."
"You draw a picture of anarchy that would disgrace a confederation of petty savage tribes. What miserable apology for a government would that be whose integrity depends upon the caprice of the governed?"