Honest David returned to his house and bed. It proved, however, to be a night of interruptions, for he had hardly gotten between the sheets and fallen into a sound slumber before there came a loud knocking at the front door. David—and in fact his whole household—was aroused thereby, and hastening to the window, he tried to learn what was the matter. He saw in the yard below three men standing by three horses and heard the quick and eager words of Judge LeMonde: "Hurry, Friend David, and come to our help. My barn was broken into about midnight and my horses Velox and Dolly stolen from it. We are almost sure the thieves headed this way down the river, for where the county road meets the river road we examined the hoofprints as best we could, and decided the horses turned this way."

"Yes, Judge, I'll help you all I can, and will be down in a hurry." Honest Hester left the window and was soon down in the yard, followed presently by his sons, wife and daughter Henrietta, all greatly excited by the news.

Judge LeMonde continued: "We three have ridden our horses very hard, and cannot hope to overtake the thieves without fresh animals. They were careful to take my best blooded stock, and had considerable start of us. Will you kindly favor us with the loan of some of your horses? With them I think we may overtake the rascals."

"That I will, Judge," said Hester, "and my boys and I will go along to help capture the rogues. I am sure you are on the right track, for half an hour ago I saw two men riding past on horseback, and I suspicioned one horse was your Dolly, for it had a white star in its forehead, but I was not dead sure."

The men now hurried to the barn, and Jim was taken out to do something besides pawing in his stall. Other horses were brought out and soon seven men vaulted into saddles,—Judge LeMonde, his son George, his servant Mose, David Hester and three of his stalwart sons. One son remained behind to care for the three horses, which were covered with mud, foam, sweat, and were badly winded.

Though in such haste, Judge LeMonde could not forget his duty to the ladies. He apologized for so rudely disturbing their slumbers, and thanked them for their interest and sympathy in his undertaking. They lifted their hats and were away down the road. Madam Hester and her daughter waved them adieu, watching the riders as far as they could in the dim light.

As they were passing through the hamlet of Bridgewater Mose saluted his master by lifting his hand to his wooly head (in the hurry of starting he had not thought of his hat), and said: "Mas'r LeMonde. I 'spect we mus' ride like de win' in dis stretch ob de race; fer I had hearn der is a byroad ten miles furder on which leads inter a mighty wild place wid many windin' paths; an' ef de tiefs gets dar, dey'll sho' give us de slip."

David Hester, having traveled this road before, corroborated the negro's words.

Judge LeMonde replied: "The advice Mose gives is very good, so we must travel with utmost speed, for we must make every effort to capture the scoundrels."

With this they all gave rein to their horses and made rapid progress down the road. The men were so intent on watching the road and guiding their horses that few words were spoken as they went along.

Those who are acquainted with the river road below Bridgewater will remember that the knobs come very near to the river and the road runs close to the foot of the hills. Hence there is not much chance for a horseman to escape from his pursuers except by outriding them.

Sam Wiles and Zibe Turner had come within three miles of the place of which Mose had spoken. They were congratulating themselves on their good fortune, when the quick ears of Turner heard the sounds of horses' hoofs some distance in the rear. "Pard," he said, "hear dat? Da air on our track, sure as shootin', an' by de sound I know der is sev'ral on 'em."

"What can we do?" asked Wiles. "De knobs air too steep to climb, for der ain't no roads about here, an' de ribber is near us on de left. Our only chance is to reach de forks of de road 'fore dey can overtake us. But Dolly is purty well played out. Der ain't much go in her. How is Velox standin' it?"

"My hoss shows his blood an' trainin'," said Turner. "He's all in a sweat an' lather an' he breathes fast, but I tink he's good for de distance. You'uns must gib Dolly mo' whip and spur. Better to kill her dan to be tuk."

Wiles thought the monster dwarf's words sensible, and he drove the cruel spurs into poor Dolly's sides without mercy and lashed her with the whip. The gallant mare responded with increased speed. But it was like the flicker of a candle almost consumed.

Just at this time, the morning now beginning to break, the thieves were discovered by their pursuers, who, thus encouraged, sent up a shout together and urged their horses to greater speed. The animals, still comparatively fresh, increased their gait and gained rapidly upon those ahead. It was now a desperate race. Horseflesh was not considered by either party,—only a wild desire to escape by one and a determination to bring the outlaws to justice by the other.

Strange to say, the dwarf became the leader in this terrible emergency, perhaps because he felt there was yet considerable reserve power in his mount, Velox. "Hang to her a leetle longer, Sam," he cried. "One quarter mile mo', an' we can shake 'em off. Speak to Dolly, gib her her head, an' spur her in a fresh place."

This Wiles did. "Go it, Dolly! Good girl! Show 'em your heels! A few rods mo'."

But it was no use. The limit of her strength was reached. Her breath came in gasps, her flanks trembled, she began staggering as she ran, and when within a hundred feet of the turn she fell head foremost, throwing her rider to the ground and falling heavily on her side.

Even in this predicament the monster dwarf did not lose his nerve; he halted Velox a second and said to his chief: "I'll git away on Velox an' cum to yer help ef I can. Keep a stiff upper lip. Nevah say die. Dat's my holt. Good-by."

With this he again drove the spurs into Velox's side, and was off. It was time, for his pursuers were shouting, "Halt! Halt!" and then the sharp crack of rifles was heard, and balls went whizzing by Turner's head. But he was soon at the turn, and with one wild yell of mingled triumph and hate he turned to the right, plunged into the thick woods, and was lost to sight. He had escaped.

In the meantime Sam Wiles, half dazed by his fall, was still lying on the ground when the Judge and his men rode up. Quickly the Judge said to Hester: "You hold Wiles and I will attend to Dolly."

They all dismounted and Hester did as requested. The Judge, George, and Mose drew near to faithful Dolly, and the Judge knelt down and took her head in his lap and spoke to her in soothing tones. He asked for water for her and George ran for some, but it was too late. Her eyes were already becoming glazed in death; but she gazed up into her owner's face with a look of recognition. Then a shiver went through her frame, she closed her eyes, and ceased to breathe.

The Judge and George wept, and were not ashamed to show their tears; while Mose, who had always cared for the horse, sobbed aloud in his grief, and on a sudden impulse of anger administered a kick to prostrate Wiles, the "po' white trash," who had killed Mas'r's hoss.

Judge LeMonde gave directions for Mose to bury Dolly's body in a decent manner, and then the rest prepared to return to their homes.



CHAPTER XVII.

Lynch Law or the Gospel.

Wiles, the captive horse thief, was given Mose's horse to ride and, closely guarded by the six men, they all retraced their journey up the river road. Wiles was sullen and morose, having little to say. His look was that of a guilty and disappointed man, yet he carried a don't care, half defiant air which was more assumed than real.

Bad news travels fast. The very atmosphere seems to tear it from house to house. Farmers had begun to pass along the road in their wagons; they heard and spread the account of the horse-stealing. It flashed through the hamlet of Bridgewater with incredible rapidity. As men heard the reports they became wildly excited and grimly determined to punish the thieves if caught. Some, by nature more excitable than others, left their work and rode down the road to aid as best they could in the pursuit. These met the party as it was returning, and swelled their number. They were not backward in expressing their opinions of the culprit as they cast black and angry looks upon him.

These people of the "bottoms" were of a higher class than the "poor whites" who abode in the hills. They lived in far better houses, they had better school and church privileges, and their sense of moral values was keener than the others. While as a rule they were not experts in grammar and rhetoric, their language was much superior to that heard in the back districts.

"Lynch him," "Fill his carcass with bullets," "String him up high as Haman," "He's been in many scrapes like this; now we've caught him, let's make short work of him," "Hanging is too good for him; he ought to be skinned alive,"—such were some of the expressions which saluted Wiles' ears, and they did not serve to make his nerves any more quiet.

When the men reached Bridgewater the morning was well advanced and they were met by a considerable company from the village and surrounding plantations. There were a few women among the crowd and a few children. Any one looking upon that gathering could see that they threatened vengeance. Hiram Sanders, the herculean blacksmith, was their leader. This was the blacksmith who was a terror to all wrestlers, and who was never whipped except once, and then by Jasper Very. When Jasper came into those parts Sanders said: "I've licked all the preachers who have come around here and I intend to lick this one." The two met on horseback, dismounted, and began their bout. The blacksmith had found his match and Very with a desperate effort threw the fellow over an adjoining fence. Sanders' pride and fighting spirit were both broken, and he humbly said: "If you please, Mr. Preacher, will you be so kind as to throw my horse over the fence too?" His defeat put Sanders on good terms with Very and now they were close friends.

As the men guarding Wiles entered Bridgewater they were met and stopped by the crowd which had gathered. The mighty blacksmith walked up to Judge LeMonde and, addressing him in a respectful manner said: "Judge, we have heard about this bad scrape; but we want to know the straight of it, and you will obleege us by telling it from first to last!"

Judge LeMonde stated the facts in a clear and simple manner. As he proceeded with his account the feelings of the crowd became more and more aroused; and when he closed with a description of Dolly's death a general cry of denunciation was raised.

Then up spoke Sanders to the people: "Friends and feller citizens, this is a case which needs keerful thought and treatment. It is a case which only men should decide, and I ask that all the women and children go back home and all the men of this company adjourn to the bridge over Honey Crick near by, that we can quietly give this matter all the attention it requires."

His request was heeded and soon some thirty or forty men were on the bridge, with Wiles seated on a log which had been placed in the middle of the structure. The men disposed themselves in any way they saw fit, some leaning against the bridge railing, others sitting on the floor with their legs hanging over the water, and others bringing logs or sticks upon which to sit.

As this was likely to be mob law Sanders, and not Judge LeMonde, was elected chairman and the deliberations commenced at once. Sanders said: "Men, what have you got to say ag'inst the prisoner! Let any one speak that wants to."

William Hester, honest David Hester's oldest son, was the first to respond: "We on the river bottom have endured this Wiles crowd a good while. We know they are a curse to this section. They steal our hosses and whatever they can lay their hands on. They make 'licit whisky in the hills and knobs. They are lazy and shiftless, and no count in general. They scare our women, and are a nuisance and pest all around. I say we oughter make an example of Wiles, the ringleader of the gang, and put him out of the way of killing any more hosses by making him stretch a rope from this bridge."

"You have listened to what Bill Hester has said. Has any other gentleman any remarks to make?" asked their chairman.

Abner Hunt, a fiery little man, whose plantation joined that of David Hester, spoke in rapid tones, emphasizing his words with vigorous gesticulations: "I fully agree with what Bill has said. Most all the people living on these here bottoms are peaceable and law-abiding and it is too bad that a few desprit villians should keep the county in a state of terror and alarm. If there were some big rattle snakes in our midst, we would try to ketch and kill them; and these human rascals are worse than rattlers. My vote is to string him up quick."

"We want a free and full discussion of this case, and I wait to hear any one else speak," said Sanders.

Then Hans Schmidt, a large, fair-faced German, arose, and said: "Mine freunds, dis ist a wery serious matter, und we must consider it with much deliberation. Gott's Book tells us to luv our enemies, und we should not show hate und refenge to any man. We all know Wiles is vun great rogue, und I would give much money to see heem out of the bottom; but I would not like to haf a hand in lynching heem. I tink it is better for the law to take its course and for us to deliver heem up to prison."

These words acted like sparks to gunpowder, and several in the crowd cried: "No! No!" "Hang him!" "Don't let him escape!" A few others said they agreed with what Schmidt had proposed.

When quiet was restored, one more speaker was heard. His name was Damon Craig. He was a hill farmer who made a good living for himself and family by industry and economy on the thin soil above the river bottom. All highly respected him and his words had much weight: "Thur is al'ys danger in takin; a hoss thief to jail. Dey air slick by natur' and der bizness makes 'em slicker. You'uns can't trust sich a feller as Wiles ur Turner a minit. Ef you'uns put 'im in jail he mought 'scape, and aryhow we don't know but sum smart lawyers might cl'ar 'im ur git a light sentence for 'im. So I'm in favor uv riddin' de kentry uv 'im right now, and I'll be de fust to pull de rope."

This speech was received by nods of assent and cries of "Good!" "Good!" "That's the talk!" by many in the crowd.

After Craig had spoken Sanders looked at Judge LeMonde and thus addressed him: "Judge, you are the most interested person in this company. You have lost two fine hosses and been put to the most trouble. It is only right that we should hear from you before we take a vote. Would you like to say anything?"

Upon this invitation Judge LeMonde arose from the log upon which he was sitting. His clothing was bespattered with mud and his face showed the struggle both physical and mental through which he had passed. But even with these limitations he appeared the typical judge. A serious but composed look was in his eyes. It was with deep feeling that he addressed the group of determined men.

"Neighbors and friends," said he, "many of you I have known from my youth, and I am glad to call you friends. I wish to thank you for the interest you have shown in my welfare by aiding me in every possible way to regain my stolen property; and while my good Velox is now far away from me, probably never to return, and my noble Dolly is buried by the roadside, you have helped to capture the chief criminal in the affair. I do not wonder that this dastardly act has stung you to the quick and that your honest hearts cry out for justice to be visited upon the guilty. But you will pardon me if I differ from most of you as to how that justice should be administered. Let us remember that the sovereign State of Kentucky has laws upon her statute books meting out just punishment for all crimes. She has suitable machinery for the execution of those laws—courts, judges, lawyers, police, jails, penitentiary—and it is the duty of all citizens to abide by the laws they have made. Therefore I cannot agree with your arguments nor justify your wish to take the law into your own hands. My voice is, let the miserable culprit be taken to the county jail, be tried before the court and receive his punishment in a lawful manner."

Judge LeMonde's speech made a visible impression on the men and possibly his advice would have been heeded had not Sanders, the chairman, spoken. These were his words: "With all respect to the Judge's remarks I think his premises are wrong. We have an unwritten law in Kentucky that hoss thieves should be put out of the world as soon as they are caught and proved guilty. It saves time, danger of escape, and expense to the State. This is a clear case for Wiles was caught in the very act, and we are quite sure this is not his first offense. My opinion is the county should be rid of such trash, and the sooner the better. We will now vote on the case. All in favor of hanging Sam Wiles at this time for hoss stealing raise your hands." Thirty hands were lifted up. "All opposed raise your hands." Five put up their hands and a few refused to vote.

In spite of protests made by Judge LeMonde and others, preparations for the tragic act were quickly made. A man had cut a clothesline in his yard and had brought it to the bridge.

Hiram Sanders spoke quickly and with a tone of authority: "Damon Craig, take this rope, tie a small stone to one end, and throw it over that big limb of the tall walnut tree standing by the crick."

Damon Craig instantly obeyed, and with one attempt the rope was thrown over and both ends were near the ground. It was the work of only a minute or two to bring the miserable prisoner under the limb and to adjust the rope in the form of a hangman's knot around his neck.

When this was done Sanders said: "Wiles, we don't want to send you out of this world without giving you a chance for preparation; so if you want to pray or to send any message to your dad or mam, we'll wait for you."

Wiles was a man not without physical courage, and in this trying hour his grit did not fail him. He cast one hurried glance around, as though looking for some allies to aid him, but none were in sight. He gazed into the faces of those standing near him to see if there were any relenting; but the stern and determined looks of most of these men showed him it was useless to expect mercy from them. All hope seemed gone. Wiles, apparently wishing more to show a brave front to man than a humble and contrite spirit to God, simply said: "I've nuthin' to say to de likes uv you'uns; only I defy ye to do yer wu'st."

"Haul away!" cried Sanders, and a dozen men seizing the rope, began pulling it, tightening the noose around Wiles' neck; but before they had lifted the body free from the ground a loud beating of horses' hoofs was heard in the direction of Bridgewater. Instinctively the men ceased from their work to look down the road. Perhaps there was a tremor of fear and condemnation in their hearts. We believe that every man who purposes in his heart to help lynch one of his fellow men, if he allows reason and conscience half a chance to be heard, will not engage in the attempt.

Presently two men came in sight, riding as though their lives depended upon their haste. They were Jasper Very and John Larkin, who had heard of the proposed lynching. The riders spurred their horses across the bridge and flung themselves from their saddles, but not before Jasper Very had shouted in his loudest voice: "Men, I call upon you in the name of God to stop this wicked act." Then, rushing up to the condemned man, who was already gasping for breath, he pulled the rope from over the limb sufficiently to loosen the knot around Wiles' neck. The lynchers were too much surprised to resist.

While John Larkin held the weakened prisoner Jasper Very removed the rope from his neck, and the two preachers helped Wiles to a seat on the bridge. Here Very stood over him as though he were his guardian angel. His eyes blazed with a fire never seen in them before. His gigantic form seemed to swell to larger proportions. He looked the incarnation of power tempered with pity. Very spoke with his heart hot within him: "Men of Kentucky, I am ashamed of your actions this day. What you purpose doing is a stain upon our State. It is a crime the memory of which, if committed, you will not be able to hide from your minds till life's last hour. Do you not know that two sins can never make an act right? How do you dare to hurry this man into the presence of his Maker unprepared? How can you meet such a sin at the judgment day? There are the courts. Let Sam Wiles be tried in them. You are well aware that our laws are very severe against horse-stealing, and when brought to the bar of justice the prisoner will suffer the full penalty of his deeds. But there is a higher law than those in our criminal courts. It is God's law, given to the children of men amid the thunders of Mount Sinai when the whole mountain was black with a thick cloud of smoke, which rolled away as from a great furnace into the sky. God descended in fire upon the mount. Thunders roared, lightnings flashed, and the peaks trembled to their foundations. The trumpets sounded louder and louder and the awful voice of almighty God 'shook the earth.' What were the commandments there given? One of them was: 'Thou shalt not kill.' Do not think that lynch law is not murder. It is murder of a very deplorable kind; for the perpetrators of the deed are not one but many, so that many are guilty of shedding their brother's blood. In the name of Him whose I am and whom I serve as a humble ambassador, I call upon you to desist from this proposed crime, conceived in passion and carried forward under great excitement. Listen to the voice of reason, and your consciences will approve your course."

What the majesty of the law could not do under the words of the honored Judge, the power of the gospel accomplished through the agency of the backwoods preacher.

Hiram Sanders was the first to yield. "Neighbors," he said, "what the preacher spoke is true. I think we will sleep sounder tonight if we spare the prisoner, though he is a sneaking, onery critter. But let the law take its course. We must see that he is securely guarded and lodged in jail without a mishap."

Under a strong guard Wiles was taken up the river road to be placed in the county jail. The planters and others returned to their usual work, while Judge LeMonde and his company rode home at their leisure.



CHAPTER XVIII.

Apple Blossoms.

May Day had come in Kentucky, and all the air was sweet with the odor of blossoms. Jasper Very had made an afternoon call at Judge LeMonde's mansion; and the day being so charming he had invited Miss Viola to walk with him to the apple orchard which was in full bloom. The two walked down the gentle hill on which the house was built and proceeded along a private road leading north toward the knob. They passed by tilled fields in which green things were peeping through the soil. They skirted a pasture where horses and cows were grazing in perfect content. Then they went through a wide gateway and at once came into the apple orchard.

The apple blossom was Jasper's favorite flower. He thought an apple tree in bloom was the nearest approach to Eden's tree of life of any sight on earth. And to behold scores of these trees filled him with such strange, happy feelings that it was difficult for him to control his emotions.

As they walked up the gradual slope which was the beginning of the swell of the knob they gazed upon many trees so thick with blossoms that they looked like gigantic bouquets. Under one of these trees they sat down upon a rustic seat and looked upon the myriads of blossoms above and around them. The mystic scene—radiant sunshine, smiling landscape, balmy, odorous air, humming of bees, and pyramids of apple blossoms—increased the preacher's rapturous love of nature, God's revelation of his glory, and by a reasonable transition his heart beat with a warm, tender, and holy affection for the beautiful girl at his side. Her mind also was open to the beauties of the scene, and a thousand voices were calling her to sip the magic waters of love. She removed her broad hat and, letting it fall by her side, held it there with careless grace by one of its strings. Her golden hair added an exquisite touch to the picture.

Jasper was the first to speak: "Miss Viola, what is so beautiful as an apple tree in bloom? Our heavenly Father seems to have mixed the elements of nature to make this blossom with a skill not seen elsewhere. It combines the pure whiteness of the plum or cherry with the delicate color of the pink or rose. How beautiful is the shading! How the pink tint improves the white and the white the pink! Every separate blossom is fit to adorn the head of a fairy; and when you look upon this wilderness of bloom, you feel that the floral world can go no farther with its gift of beauty. As I sit under this bower of loveliness I am inclined to adapt the poet's words:

'My willing soul would stay In such a place as this, And sit and sing herself away To everlasting bliss.'"

"I am not surprised," said Viola, "that you are enraptured with this scene. To my mind the perfection of out-of-doors life is to be among the apple blossoms, to feast one's eyes upon their delicate colors, and to inhale their sweet odor. The Hesperides of the ancients must have had a pleasant task in guarding the golden apples which Terra gave to Juno as a wedding gift."

"Yes," remarked Jasper; "and not only has mythology used this fruit to embellish the joy and sacredness of the marriage rite, but the Holy Bible makes the apple tree a type of the lover and of love; for we read: 'As the apple tree among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among the sons.' And, 'Comfort me with apples.' Such pictures as these suggest the purest affection. May I not say they promote love?"

Viola was not willing to give a direct answer to his question, so she artfully changed the subject, saying: "The sun will soon descend behind the forest trees, and we must leave the apple blossoms and their lessons and betake ourselves to the house."

She placed her hat upon her head and arose to go. The preacher also arose, thinking to himself: "I wish I could change the apple blossoms into orange blossoms and see them crowning her golden hair."

They had walked along the farm road, and had nearly reached the garden gate when they saw the slave Mose running rapidly toward the house. They were just ascending the hill when the black man, getting within speaking distance, cried out: "Miss Vi'la, Ah jist cum frum town, an' what do yo' 'spose? Sam Wiles hab' 'scaped frum jail. He got out las' night. Sumhow he got a file an' cut two ba's out'n his cell winder an' crep' through. In sum way he clim' ober de yawd fence an' got cl'ar 'way. De she'ff an' constables is now chasin' 'im an' callin' on all who can to help run 'im down. Ah's gwine to hurry to de house to tell Mas'r LeMonde uv de 'scape."

With this remark Mose ran on, his white eyeballs rolling in his excitement and his head bobbing from one side to the other.

In a few minutes Viola and Jasper were with Judge LeMonde and the rest of the house. The Judge was questioning his faithful servant: "Did the officers think he had any help in escaping?"

"Yessar, sum one mus' 'a' sperited dat file inter de jail, an' ob cou'se no ossifer would 'a dun it."

"Who do they think was his helper?"

"Zibe Turner. Two er free in de town see 'im sneakin' roun', but befo' dey could grab 'im he war gone. He seems to be in league wif de debil, an' can become inwisible when he wants ter."

"But how could the monster dwarf get the file to him?"

"It am 'sposed he had a secret talk wif de colored cook, Dinah, an' sum way cum it ober her—bewitched her mor'n likely ur gib 'er a big lot ob money—an' she passed de file in sum ob Wiles' food, an' he cut his way out."

"But his cell was in the second story, and how did he reach the ground?"

"He made a rope ob de bedclothes an' clum down dem. Dey thinks he frew de same rope ober de wall, an' Turner held de outer end while Wiles clum to de top; den he could easy drap to de bottom. Ah 'spects dey bof cl'ar out togedder, an' by dis time air way back on de knobs safe an' sound."

Judge LeMonde said: "We must do all we can to recapture Wiles and arrest Turner, for they are desperate men, and will stop at nothing to secure their own ends. However, I am afraid it will be almost impossible to take them if they have reached the fastnesses of the hills. They can hide in caves, ravines, and forests, and, being so well acquainted with the region, they can well-nigh defy pursuit."

The Judge's opinion was sound; for after the officers and citizens had hunted them for days with the aid of bloodhounds, and found them not, the effort was abandoned.



CHAPTER XIX.

A Proposal Without Words.

It was on a Tuesday afternoon in the latter part of June when a note was presented to Jasper Very by a farmer living near his boarding place who had been quite a distance up river.

The note read as follows:

Silver Springs Camp Ground, June 23, 18—.

The Rev. Jasper Very,

Dear Mr. Very:—The Silver Springs Camp Meeting which began a few days ago is having fine success. It is well attended and many are beginning the Christian life.

I had planned to make Thursday the great day of the feast; but Rev. Enoch Foy, who was to preach that evening, is sick and sends word he cannot come. In my extremity I turn to you and ask you to fill the gap without fail.

Knowing how willing you always are to help a brother minister in need, I shall look for you without expecting a reply to this note. Please do not disappoint us. I send this message by Mr. John Boley, who returns to your neighborhood today.

Sincerely yours in the Master's work,

Ezra Thompson.

Jasper Very prayerfully considered the invitation and, as his engagements permitted him to accommodate his good friend Thompson, he decided to preach at the camp meeting. He little dreamed that all his future life was to be colored by that simple note. So often men's destinies turn upon apparently trivial events.

As the journey was long Jasper decided it would be pleasant to have a few of his friends accompany him. So he betook himself to Judge LeMonde's house and asked the Judge and his wife to make two of the party, but they had matters which forbade their going. He then spoke to Viola and George and requested them to go.

Early Thursday morning Jasper Very rang the doorbell at "Mount Pisgah." Miss Viola herself answered the bell and led the preacher into the drawing-room. She gave him this information: "George is to drive six of us to the camp meeting in our three-seated carriage. Miss Stella Nebeker will sit with George; on the middle seat my cousin, Miss Alice LeMonde, and Miss Bertha Nebeker, Stella's sister; and they have appointed you and me to occupy the third seat. The carriage will be driven up presently and we have a surprise for you; but do not get too excited."

The preacher could not imagine what the surprise was, but he had to possess his soul in patience. He had not to wait long for he presently heard the sound of wheels. He and Viola stepped out on the piazza.

What did he see? Reader, can you guess? No. He saw Velox. The noble horse was on the near side of the carriage and Prince on the off side.

Very cried out: "Of all things, if there isn't Velox! George, you naughty boy, why didn't you tell me? Where did you find him?"

The preacher ran to the splendid creature, proud, sleek and glossy as ever, and put his arm over his neck, and stroked and patted his face. "George you must tell me all about the way you succeeded in getting your horse back to the plantation."

George said: "Hold your horses, pastor, and when we are speeding in the carriage I will the tale relate."

The six were soon seated in the vehicle. George spoke to the willing horses and they were off, through the plantation grounds, along the county road to the river highway up which they were to travel twenty miles. It was a charming day in June and the road now was in fine condition. A gentle shower the night before had laid the dust and brightened the face of nature. The leaves on the stately forest trees were full grown and in perfection. The river to their right sparkled in the bright sunlight.

Presently George began his tale for the special benefit of the preacher, the rest having heard it in more or less detail:

"A few days ago I went down to Paducah to sell a large part of our abundant hay crop. I went to the big warehouse of Youtsey and Fry on one of the principal streets and was talking to Mr. Sydney Youtsey on the sidewalk, when I saw a splendid carriage drawn by two fine bay horses coming along the street. A Sambo, black as the ace of spades, was driving with a high sense of his importance; and in fact he handled the reins and whip like a professional. In the back seat reclined a portly gentleman, dressed in faultless style, and by his side his wife of ample proportions, also garbed in the height of fashion.

"While the turnout was some distance away I was sure that the near horse was Velox. As luck would have it the man in the carriage had some business with Youtsey and Fry and ordered Sambo to drive up to the curb. Greatly excited I cried out to Sydney Youtsey: 'That bay on the left is my Velox.' I hastened to the side of the carriage, and, lifting my hat, said to the man: 'Excuse me, sir, but that horse standing here next to the sidewalk is my animal, named Velox. He was stolen from my father's barn up country a few weeks ago by two desperate thieves. My name is George LeMonde, son of Judge William LeMonde, of 'Mount Pisgah.''

"The gentleman addressed expressed great surprise at this announcement, saying:

"'This is a very strange statement. For a long time I wanted a mate for my bay horse Hamlet and instructed my groom to visit the livery stables and other places where horses are kept for sale. He tried for weeks to find a suitable match, but without success. At last, going to one of the largest and most reputable stables in Paducah, he saw this animal you claim, and paying a large price for the same, brought him to my plantation just outside of the city.'

"'Probably,' I said, 'the man who brought Velox to the city gave him into the hands of a party who may have sold him to an honest and upright stable keeper from whom you bought the horse.'

"'But how do I know your story is true, that you own this horse?' the planter asked.

"I told him if his servant would drive the carriage into the warehouse and unharness the near horse, that I would convince him that he was my animal.

"The planter consented, and soon Velox was standing before us entirely free from his harness. I moved away from him about ten feet. Stretching out my right hand open toward him, I said in a quiet tone of voice: 'Come Velox, come to your master.' Instantly the horse walked up to me and touched my hand with his lips. I put my soft felt hat on my head, and spoke to the horse again: 'Come, Velox, and lift my hat off my head.' He walked up to me the second time and, seizing my hat between his teeth, gently raised it from my head.

"This not only surprised the planter and the rest, but was satisfactory proof to him that the bay was my horse.

"Mr. Harcourt, for that was the planter's name, remarked: 'These tricks seem to demonstrate that what you claim is true, but I paid a fancy price for this animal, $500, and I do not feel like losing such a sum.'

"'Neither shall you lose it, sir,' said I. 'This very day I will write you a check for the amount, if you will give my Velox to me.'

"To this Mr. Harcourt agreed. The pair were driven back to his plantation, and that afternoon Sambo brought him to me. I handed him the check to give to his master. Going to a store near by I bought a saddle and bridle and, putting them on Velox, I mounted him and rode him back to 'Mount Pisgah.' And here he is, sound as ever," and George snapped the whip over the trotting pair so that they increased their speed a bit.

The day was bright and balmy, the steeds were willing, and they made good progress. But the drive was long and it was late dinner time when they arrived on the camp ground. They were welcomed by Ezra Thompson and others and, after resting a short time and partaking of a substantial meal for which their long ride had prepared them, they were ready for the afternoon services. These were of the old camp meeting order, and blessed were the results. An earnest preacher handled the Word of God skillfully, and it became the sword of the Spirit which cut through skepticism, indifference, and sin, and pierced the consciences of many. A blessed altar service closed the meeting.

Jasper Very ate only a light supper. Following his usual custom he went into the woods to pray, to meditate, and to get his sermon into order for the evening. When he came back those who saw him were struck with his look. It was something like that of Moses when he came down from the mount. His face seemed to shine with the light of God. Jasper's natural mein was bold, commanding, and aggressive, so that some thought him domineering and severe; but now his manner was full of humility and peace. He was like a man who had seen a vision of eternal love; his soul was filled with a deep sympathy for sinful men and a great yearning to turn them from the error of their ways. Tonight the fighter was gone, and the pleader took his place.

Before he preached the congregation sang that appealing hymn:

"Show pity, Lord; O Lord, forgive."

Viola LeMonde's confidence as a singer had increased with her recent attempts, and tonight her sweet, pure soprano voice rose clear and strong as she sang with the assembled multitude. Jasper Very heard her voice, and it seemed to him sweeter than the note of an angel, and it moved him one step higher in his grand preparation to speak his Master's word. While the eyes of all were fastened upon him he opened the Bible and read the text: "The Spirit and the bride say, Come. And let him that heareth say, Come. And let him that is athirst come. And whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely."

It is impossible for any report to do justice to that sermon. An abstract of it has come down to us; but it is little more than a skeleton, lacking the flesh and blood and abounding life of the original.

Jasper began by describing the apostle John's imprisonment on the Isle of Patmos. There he was in the Spirit on the Lord's day when he heard a voice saying unto him: "Write." John took the flaming pen of inspiration and wrote those wonderful scenes found in the book of Revelation. But before writing his final "Amen" he gives one last, universal, gracious invitation to all men to come to the water of life and be saved. With marvelous unction and power Jasper spoke of the invitation coming from God's Spirit and from his Church, the bride, to all thirsty souls: "Whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely." At this place the preacher reached the climax of his theme. With the full power of his noble voice he brushed away all artificial distinctions among men, crying out that God is no respecter of persons, but that all men are invited to come to him for salvation. In earnest tones he besought his hearers to know that they are all included in the great invitation; the blacks as well as the whites, the poor farmer on the hills as well as the rich planter in the valley, the outcasts from society, such as moonshiners, horse thieves and gamblers, equally with the moral citizen who yet needed a personal deliverance from sin. All that is required is the will to come.

At last his emotions almost overcame him. Like his Master weeping over Jerusalem, this strong man wept before the people. Throwing into his voice much tenderness, sympathy, love, and persuasion, he called upon them to come forward, kneel in the straw, and seek a merciful Savior's pardon. His appeal was with many most effective; and when the congregation arose and started a gospel hymn, scores crowded to the altar seeking forgiveness and peace.

For an hour Jasper, Viola, and the rest who had come from "Mount Pisgah" labored with the penitents at the altar. At half past nine o'clock, long before the service closed, they started for home. They were all lifted to a high plane of spiritual experience, and for some time each was busy with his or her own thoughts and few words were spoken. The moon had risen and was throwing her mild light through the thick trees as best she could. Gradually George LeMonde and the three girls got into a more talkative and merry mood. Now and then a happy laugh floated through the forest, and was heard by the wakeful owl as he sat perched on some high branch, or with rush of wings flew through the air seeking his prey. They spoke of the camp meeting and the commoner events of every day life, occasionally asking the opinion of Jasper and Viola concerning this or that event or notion. But George on the front seat was too much occupied with guiding the horses through the uncertain light and with the chat of the fair girl at his side to pay much attention to those in the rear seats, and the two girls in the middle naturally kept their eyes and ears turned forward. This left Jasper and Viola in a measure to themselves. They spoke occasionally to each other, but their words were fewer than their thoughts.

Jasper's heart in the meeting had been aflame with love to God and his fellowman, and what better soil than that can there be for a man's love for a pure and beautiful woman to spring and grow? All the wealth of his great nature was even then being given to the woman at his side, and he felt the hour had come to make that love known. And Viola was ready to receive it as a most precious gift and in return to offer a yet richer treasure, a woman's unsullied affection.

In that carriage was about to take place the world's most wondrous mystery—two lives, which for months had been drawn together more and more strongly by a power which no man can understand, at last meeting and blending in a union which God in heaven makes and which eternity cannot sever.

Jasper did not need words to express his love nor Viola to receive it. They were more than half way home when Jasper moved his large, honest, chivalrous right hand over to Viola and took her small, beautiful hand in his. She did not resist the act, but let her little hand lie in his broad palm. That was all. Their betrothal was as silent as the meeting of God and a human soul. Words were not needed. They seemed out of place. They would have appeared almost a profanation. In fact they could not then have been spoken. The light carriage robe covered those two hands, and the laughing girls in the next seat did not suspect that just behind them an engagement without words was taking place. What joys, what sorrows, what tragedies and comedies occur so near us that we can almost touch them with our fingers, and yet we are unconscious of their existence?

So they rode along by the quiet river. Sometimes the stream was hidden by high and mighty trees and willows growing by its bank; at other times they saw the placid waters, and the moonbeams shining upon it making a pathway of silver light.

At last the horses turned into the great gateway, the carriage wheels crunched upon the graveled drive, and soon they were before Viola's home. It was very late, after midnight. George took his team to the barn, for he would not call up Mose at that time of night. Alice LeMonde and her two girl friends at once went upstairs.

Viola opened the drawing-room door, and she and Jasper entered. They stood by the piano, leaning against it. She looked up into his face with a happy smile in her deep blue eyes and a tender flush in her pink cheeks. Jasper, gazing down upon her with inexpressible feelings of reverence and love, imprinted a kiss upon her pure brow, thus sealing their unspoken troth. They walked together to the broad staircase where they parted bidding each other good-night.



CHAPTER XX.

Kidnapped.

The hour was late the next morning when Jasper Very awoke from a refreshing sleep. At first the incidents of the past night did not arrange themselves in proper order before his mind, but soon the succession of events and their meaning became clear. He arose, dressed, attended to his ablutions and devotions, and sat down to think. This was the tenor of his thoughts: "What a fortunate being I am to have gained the love of this true and noble woman. I feel myself unworthy of such affection and confidence. A new idea of God has come to me. He gives himself for those whom he loves. And in a new sense I am willing to sacrifice my all for her whom I love. Heretofore I have looked to my own interests as to food, clothing, lodging, and other things. Perhaps I have been a bit selfish. Now I shall delight also to plan for her well-being and happiness. When the marriage rite is said, how gladly shall I promise to 'love, comfort, and keep her in sickness and in health, to bestow upon her my worldly goods, and to keep her only unto myself.' Jasper, a precious treasure has been entrusted to your keeping, a treasure the most valuable on earth, and you must be careful to keep it from all harm."

At this moment his soliloquy was interrupted by a knock at the door, and Nora's announcement: "Please, sur, breakfast is waitin' fer yo' in de dinin' room."

"Thank you, Nora, I shall be down presently." And he descended the stairs without loss of time.

You ask, reader, what were the thoughts of Miss Viola when she awoke from her deep sleep? As the writer is a man he cannot tell. No man can sound the depths of a woman's heart. She only can understand her motives, her desires, her modes of thinking, her varying moods. She holds the key to the inner chambers of her nature, and no masculine hand can seize that key and unlock those apartments.

However, we believe we are able to fathom some of the ideas which passed through our heroine's mind that bright morning. We can take it for granted that she was very happy; that the future looked very promising, though she was impressed by the responsibility of becoming a minister's wife.

When Jasper Very descended the stairs and entered the dining-room he found Viola and her mother awaiting him, the rest having eaten some time before. The ladies cordially greeted their guest, and the meal was partaken of with a seasoning of pleasant conversation.

After breakfast the twain went into the drawing-room, and there the stalwart preacher took his own darling into his arms, and for the first time their lips met in a rapturous kiss. They sat side by side on the beautifully upholstered sofa, and looked the splendid couple they were.

If the night before, silence was golden, surely this morning speech was silver. Jasper said: "Viola, my dear, I am giving a new meaning to that Scripture passage: 'This is my commandment, that ye love one another.'" "And I," replied Viola, "feel like expressing as my sentiment those words in the Song of Songs: 'My beloved is mine, and I am his.'" "Well," said the parson, "we must seal that ownership with another kiss." It was readily given and received, and we are afraid several more followed to keep the first company.

Then they fell to talking about the future: how they hoped some day to establish a home of their own; how they would walk hand in hand through life bearing its burdens, and meeting the exacting duties of the ministry with mutual helpfulness.

Thus they conversed for a long time on the new and opening vistas of life. At length Viola said: "Jasper dear, let us take a walk this fine morning toward the great knob, and enjoy together the beauties of nature. It seems as though nature itself would delight to shower its blessing upon us."

Jasper was willing, and they went as before to the apple orchard, but instead of stopping there they climbed the ascent to the foot of the knob. Then they entered the woods which covered the great elevation from near its base to the top. They emerged into a zigzag foot-path, difficult to follow, and climbed up and up. Many times the strong arm of Jasper had to help the maiden at his side to surmount steep and bush-entangled places.

At last after much exertion they reached the top of the knob, where they beheld a wide-extended view. Below them lay Judge LeMonde's broad plantation and many others on the right hand and on the left. Beyond these ran the beautiful river through the landscape like a ribbon of silver, and they saw in the far distance valleys and hills and majestic knobs, making altogether a picture of surpassing loveliness.

The man and the woman were enchanted with the scene and Jasper, full of deep emotions, cried out: "Bless the Lord, O my soul: and all that is within me, bless his holy name. He watereth the hills from his chambers; the earth is satisfied with the fruit of thy works. He causeth the grass to grow for the cattle, and herb for the service of man."

Viola exclaimed: "My father's plantation is called 'Mount Pisgah,' and this view reminds me of that other scene Moses saw on his 'Mount Pisgah.'"

They sat under one of the great forest trees crowning the brow of the knob and feasted their eyes on the near and the distant prospect. They heard the birds singing in the trees, and saw the saucy squirrels running up and down the hickory and other trees. Jasper spoke of his present engagements, saying on that afternoon he must visit a family down the river, and the next day he had an appointment to begin a two days' meeting in a distant township of the county.

Viola told of her plans. She intended tomorrow morning to have Mose drive her to a number of the families attending the mission school. She wished to become better acquainted with them, to show a friendly interest in their welfare, and to teach the boys and girls some further rudiments of knowledge, and tell them a number of interesting Bible stories.

This knowledge gave Jasper much concern, and he said: "My dear Viola, I have now even more than a pastor's regard for your safety and welfare. Are you not afraid to travel those lonely hills without any protector save Mose? While the mission school gradually is improving the moral tone of that region, you know there are some depraved and desperate persons living about there who would not hesitate to steal your horses, or your purse, or commit other crimes, if it were to their seeming advantage to do so?"

"Yes, I know that, dear Jasper, but hitherto the Lord has protected me, and I believe I can trust him to hold me safely in the hollow of his almighty hand. If I am called to suffer in his cause, I am willing. I have no fear of physical violence, and I am sure duty calls me to that settlement tomorrow."

"Well, my beloved, may heaven still safeguard you, and may you continue to be a blessing to that community which needs reformation, education and the gospel so much."

Viola spoke: "It is getting near dinner time, and we must not be late for that meal as we were for breakfast." With that they arose, and proceeded down the knob and on to the mansion.

After dinner Jasper Very bade them all a cordial good-by, and proceeded on his errand of mercy to a family who needed his ministrations.

Early the next morning Viola, seated in her phaeton with faithful Mose holding the reins over Prince and Bess, started to the mission school settlement. She had taken with her some things which would interest the children—candy for the little ones and some bright books for those older. The distance was considerable, but at last they arrived at the cabin of Mart Spink, where they were cordially received.

Viola stepped down from the carriage and, entering the house, soon had the whole family around her. Their minds seemed famished for knowledge. She first opened a paper bag and passed several pieces of candy to the younger children, Elmira, Robert and Jonathan. She offered the bag to the parents and to Susanna, and they helped themselves sparingly. She then brought out from her satchel a nicely bound copy of Aesop's Fables, and presented the book to Susanna. The girl was both surprised and pleased. Opening her wonderful eyes wide, she thanked her teacher in few words. Viola also gave the family some of the simpler school books used in the public schools and a few volumes of a religious nature. After a further half hour spent in pleasant conversation Viola left the cabin, and directed Mose to drive to the Sneath home.

She found Harrop Sneath sitting under the shade of a tree about as lazy and contented as ever. He was smoking tobacco contained in a corncob pipe. But Viola noticed a decided improvement in the cabin. It was cleaner than when she first saw it, and had a bit more of furniture in it. All the children showed the benefit they had received from attending the mission school. Jemima, the oldest daughter, revealed the greatest improvement. Her eye was brighter, her dress cleaner and better fitting, and her demeanor showed more intelligence and self-possession.

Viola distributed sweets and books to this family much as she had done to the other, and they were gladly received. She led the talk to things which would interest their minds—prospects for good crops, the sewing circle recently organized for women and girls, the picnic which the mission school expected soon to have.

She told them several thrilling Bible stories about David slaying Goliath, Daniel in the lions' den, the three Hebrew children.

It was nearing dinner time and the mother invited Viola to partake of their plain fare. She said: "You air u'st to all de good tings money can buy. We'uns cayn't gibe you much, but sich as we'uns hab you air welcome to."

Viola replied: "I am really greatly obliged to you, Mrs. Sneath, for your kind invitation, and will gladly dine with you today. It is not so much the amount or kind of food one is given but the spirit in which it is given that counts."

"Jist so," said Mrs. Sneath, "so we'uns'll all set down soon to corn pone and pork. Please ask your nigger to unhitch his hosses and put 'em in de bawn. He'll find sum hay der for 'em. De nigger shall hab sum dinner too."

Viola putting aside any punctilious feelings she had, partook of the homely meal with what grace and relish she could command, and thanking them all for their kindness, bade them good-by.

Viola visited a number of other families in the afternoon, and toward the evening of the long summer day instructed her servant to turn the horses toward home. They were not far from the cabin of the monster dwarf, Zibe Turner. A strange feeling of fear and apprehension sprang up within her. Was it caused by her nearness to the home of this wicked man, or by a premonition of danger?

They were passing through one of the densest parts of the great forest. The sun was yet some distance above the horizon, but his slanting rays could throw only a dim light through that mass of wood and foliage.

Suddenly two men sprang from behind high bushes by the roadside. They had black cloth masks over their faces. Holes were cut in the masks through which the bandits could see. One man was tall and broad. The other was short and thickset. The shorter man leaped to the horses' heads and, seizing the reins, stopped their progress. The other stepped to the side of the phaeton, and said in a voice he tried to disguise: "Lady, we'uns do not mean to harm you, but you must cum wid us."

Viola, though dreadfully frightened, straightened herself up in the carriage, and replied: "What do you men mean by stopping a carriage on the highway, and thus disturbing peaceable citizens? I call upon you to go, let go the reins of my horses, and allow my servant to drive me home."

"Dat is fur from our wish," said the desperado, "and if you won't walk away quietly wif us, we'uns will have to tote you away."

With this the highwayman (who was no other than Sam Wiles) jumped into the vehicle, and seizing the young woman around the waist, was dragging her forcibly to the ground. Viola could make no successful resistance in the grasp of this powerful man, but he met resistance where he little expected it. The slave held the buggy whip in his hand, and hastily reversing his hold on the whip, brought the butt end of it down with much force on the miscreant's head. Wiles was half stunned by the blow, but he would not release his hold on Viola, and cursed the black with dreadful oaths.

But it was the work only of a second for the terrible dwarf, Zibe Turner, to spring to the front of the carriage, and grabbing Mose in his sinuous arms, he drew him to the earth, then struck him a terrific blow on his head, and threw him to the ground. What the blow might not have done (for a negro's skull is very thick) the fall accomplished; for when he fell Mose's head struck the protruding root of a great oak tree, and the blow was of sufficient violence to stun the black man. Zibe Turner let the negro lie by the side of the road, and going to the horses led them to a trunk of a tree and, taking the hitch strap, tied it to a lower limb. The outlaws' purpose this time was not stealing horses.

In the meantime Sam Wiles carried Viola, vainly struggling, about one hundred feet up the road and turned to the right, where not far away a two-seated wagon stood, with two horses hitched to it. Wiles lifted Viola, now exhausted and half dead with fear, into the rear seat and sat down beside her. Presently the monster dwarf appeared and, freeing the horses, jumped on to the front seat. Turning the horses into the road, he drove in an opposite direction to that which Viola had been taking.

No words were spoken by any of the party and the horses pursued their way through the darkening forest. After a time they were driven by the dwarf into the enclosure before his mother's cabin. She was at the door, evidently expecting them. The devil which was in her caused her to cry out in hideous glee: "An' so you'uns cotched her did you'uns? Good. Now we'uns'll see what de Jedge'll do. Will he put gentl'men ob de hills in de jug ag'in? De debil blast 'im and all his kind." Looking at Viola, who now had braced herself for any approaching ordeal, remembering that she was Judge LeMonde's daughter, the hag said: "Now, my purty lady, we'uns'll see who'll wear fine clothes, an' eat de best tings, an' go round de kentry convartin' de people. We'uns count dat you'll get a taste of how we'uns live. Don't hurt yer digestion ner spile yet purty looks longin' ter see yer pa an' ma an' dat cussed preacher."

The monster dwarf here broke in, speaking in his deep voice: "Ma, dat's nuff now. Tell sis to git ready in a hurry, for we'uns have a long drive before us."

Sis was soon ready—the tall, raw-boned, homely young woman, a fit member of this ogre family, but with a little less of depravity in her makeup and looks. She was dressed in a long calico gown, heavy coarse shoes, and a much worn hat, whose flowers appeared worse than "the last rose of summer," after it had faded.

Viola maintained silence, and awaited developments. The plan soon unfolded itself. Sis Turner got up into the rear seat beside Viola. Zibe Turner mounted to the front seat, took the reins in his right hand, spoke to the horses, and away they went, leaving Sam Wiles looking after them. What was the character of his thoughts?

Turner drove his team along a faintly marked country road always toward higher ground. On and on they went for miles, the way in many places becoming so dark, that the only direction was the avenue made by the cutting down of the trees. Sometimes they came to such serious obstructions in the road that the driver had to get down to remove them. At last the way was so narrow they had to leave the wagon and proceed on horseback.

After climbing higher and higher they arrived at a small open place near the top of the knob. In its midst was a diminutive log cabin, consisting of only one room. Turner stopped his horses in front of the cabin, dismounted, and requested the girls to do the same. He unbarred the door, and the three entered. By means of flint, steel, tinder, and burnt rags Turner made a light. Viola observed that the cabin was of about the same order as the Sneath home she had visited that morning. A large fireplace was on one side. There was no window, and only one door. Two cheap beds were in two corners of the room. In another corner there were a number of bundles of provisions. A few cooking utensils were on the hearth, and a few dishes were on the table. The door on the inside was secured by a heavy bar which fell into a strong socket, the bar being fastened by a stout padlock.

Zibe Turner spoke: "Miss LeMonde, dis cabin is to be yer hum for a while. My sister is to be comp'ny for ye, an' also yer guard. No harm is to cum to ye, if ye do what ye air told. I'm goin' to leave now, an' sis'll tend to yer wants. Good-night to bof uv you'uns."

With this he left the cabin, and drove away.



CHAPTER XXI.

The Search.

As the time for the evening meal was approaching at Judge LeMonde's mansion, his wife said to him: "I wonder what is keeping Viola so long today. She told me before starting, she would be home by sundown, and it surely is time she were back."

The Judge responded: "Do not be alarmed. She may have been kept longer than she expected at some of the places she visited. The days are very long now, and the twilight lingers. Besides, there will be moonlight tonight and if they are delayed they can easily see their way over the big road by the light of the moon. Mose is a trustworthy fellow and we know he is a careful driver."

At this time Nora knocked at the door, announcing that supper was ready. Madam LeMonde was not fully at ease, but went with the rest to the dining-room. The repast was rather a quiet one, and when it was finished dusk had fully settled over the valley. The Judge and his wife went to the piazza and looked down the plantation private way, but could see no sign of carriage or horses. They together walked to the large gate which opened on the county road, opening the gate, and went the short distance to the river road along which the returning carriage would come. They stood and strained their eyes looking down the highway, but could discern no vehicle of any kind approaching.

For some time they stood looking and listening, and then returned to the house. Now they were anxious indeed; and so was their son George who had been to the barn on some business with one of the hostlers.

Madam LeMonde exclaimed: "What can be keeping them? Surely some accident or harm has befallen them. Viola would never stay away from home as late as this unless she had company with her. I am very nervous and disturbed. What can we do?"

George spoke up and said: "Do not be distressed, mother. If the carriage does not come in a few minutes, I will get Velox and ride along the road to meet it and to be of help, if it is needed."

"Do so, my son, for this will help to relieve me of suspense," said his mother.

They waited until it was quite dark, for the moon had not yet risen, though it would show itself presently. Then George decided to go at once. Hurrying to the barn, he saddled and bridled his noble horse and instantly went along the road, his horse trotting rapidly.

About five miles down the road George met Mose coming in the phaeton, but Viola was missing. Terribly anxious for the safety of his sister, the white man asked the slave what had happened.

Mose was still somewhat dizzy from the blow he had received from the monster dwarf and his fall on the root of the oak, but he told the story as far as he knew, and added some particulars about himself.

He said he lay for a long time unconscious by the side of the country road, but at last his senses came back to him. His head pained him very much, and a great swelling was over his right eye. In the dim light he saw the horses hitched under the tree.

He tried to rise from the ground, but found it impossible at first. After making a number of attempts, he managed to get up on his feet and went to the phaeton reeling like a drunken man. He untied the horses and almost fell into the seat. He managed, however, to keep the horses in the road and drove them as best he could till he met "Mas'r George."

George considered whether it were better for him to ride furiously after the outlaws, or to return to the plantation with Mose. He chose the latter course, and before a great while they came up the private way to the mansion.

The Judge and his wife, and indeed the whole household, were anxiously awaiting them. When the phaeton drove up and no Viola in it, Madam LeMonde became hysterical and almost fainted. She screamed: "Where is my daughter? Where is she? What has happened to her? Tell me quickly."

The Judge was compelled to quiet his wife before he could hear the story of his daughter's abduction.

The group returned into the house. Entering the sitting-room they discussed what was best to be done. The Judge requested his son George to ride as fast as possible to the county seat, arouse the sheriff and ask him to select a posse as soon as he was able, to search for the missing girl. This George proceeded to do. He rushed to the barn and mounting a fresh horse set off at all speed on his errand.

Judge LeMonde hastily wrote some notes containing a brief account of his daughter's seizure and, entrusting them to his most faithful slaves, instructed them to deliver the notes to those addressed. These were his most intimate neighbors and friends in the valley. He requested them to meet him at "Mount Pisgah" early in the morning.

As the Judge could do no more that night he suggested that they retire to their rooms, and seek rest. This they did, but no sleep came to him nor to his wife that night. Their thoughts were with the girl:

"Where is she? Have they murdered her? What could be their object in carrying her away? Was it revenge? How difficult it will be to find her. But Oh! that morning would come, so that the attempt can be made!"

Thus they beat the walls of darkness with unavailing questions, and even their prayers were mixed with natural forebodings and fears.

With the first dawn of day Nora, who also had passed a restless night, awoke the fat cook (for she in spite of sympathy for the family had slept soundly) and asked her to get coffee and toast as quickly as possible. This was soon prepared, and the Judge and his wife drank the stimulant and ate a little toast.

Presently thereafter the neighbors began to arrive. They were greatly affected by the foul deed, and vowed the direst punishment upon the outlaws in case they were captured. They offered to the family every assistance in their power. They spoke comforting words to the afflicted Judge, who showed the marks of his mental anguish and sleepless night in his haggard face. They sent their respects to Madam LeMonde, who was too prostrated to see them at this time.

When all were arrived it was decided to await the coming of the sheriff and posse when all would go to the spot where Viola was taken, and from that point scour the wilderness under the sheriff's lead.

The sun was not high in the heavens when the sheriff and a company of eight determined-looking men rode up to the mansion. No words were wasted. All were eager to depart. The leader ordered the company and planters to fall in, and away they went with swift pace toward the place they sought. Judge LeMonde and George rode with the sheriff. Mose, nearly recovered from his hurt, was in the company as guide.

They came to the place where the carriage was stopped, and Mose took time to point to the very spot where his head came in contact with the root of the oak. They followed the road along which Sam Wiles went with the struggling Viola in his arms. They turned to the right, and saw the hoof prints of the horses the marauders had hidden with the wagon in the brush.

Examining the road carefully (a road very little traveled) they saw wagon tracks which might have been those made by the wagon in which the kidnappers sat with their victim.

Suspecting that the men would go first to the cabin of Zibe Turner, they went to this house, and found the old mother at home. From her they could get no satisfaction. She denied that she had seen Viola LeMonde lately. Shaking her bony arm at the Judge and the rest, she commanded them to begone from her premises.

The searchers, leaving the enclosure, rode a short distance into the woods and there stopped. They decided to follow the flight as before by means of the horse hoof and wagon tracks. This they did, but soon the way became merely a path, and then the path ended in the unmarked woodland.

All trace of the fugitives was thus lost. The sheriff then divided his company into parties of two men each, and sent them in different directions in such a manner as to cover as much ground as possible. Before dismissing them, he told them to search diligently the ground traversed, especially the wildest and deepest parts of the hills. They were to ride their horses when the way permitted, otherwise to go on foot.

Not one of these men needed urging. They were all fired with a grim determination to find if possible the place where the beautiful captive was imprisoned. They took no account of their own personal affairs, of hunger and fatigue, of the difficulties of travel through the uncleared forests. The clothing of some became torn with briers and sharp rocks, their shoes were damaged with stones, fallen limbs, muck and mire. Their hands were pierced by many thorns, as they pushed their way through the wilderness.

The first day passed without finding any trace of the missing maiden.

Where was Jasper Very while these thrilling events were taking place? As we have intimated, he had gone to a distant part of the county to hold a two days' meeting. All unconscious of the terrible evil that had fallen upon his betrothed, he was pursuing his Master's work with his accustomed zeal and success.

Before leaving home to visit her mission school people Viola had informed her mother of the new and intimate relations existing between Jasper Very and herself. The mother was much pleased with the engagement and, woman like, could not keep the news from her husband. She told him the story. He also was pleased with the information. The night he sent word to his neighbors of the abduction he wrote a longer note to Jasper Very, acquainting him of the villainous occurrence. This message he sent to the preacher by a trustful servant, Joshua.

The servant rode through the night, but did not reach the village till the middle of the next morning. Horse and man were very much exhausted. The eight o'clock meeting was just closing and the preaching service was about to begin, when Joshua rode up to the little meeting-house. Jasper, looking through the open door, saw Joshua, whom he knew as one of Judge LeMonde's slaves.

Thinking something was wrong, Jasper hurried from the church and spoke to the messenger. Joshua gave him the note. As he read its contents, a heavy groan escaped his lips and he almost fell to the ground. With a tremendous effort at self-control, but with tears coursing down his manly cheeks, he said to Joshua: "Man, you and your horse are very tired. A livery stable is just around the corner. Put up your horse there, and the owner will tell you where you can get food and rest."

He then went into the church and said: "Friends, I have just received news which is very urgent, requiring my presence in another part of the county. I am sorry I cannot preach here this morning, but I must be excused, and I will ask the Rev. Irby Trynor kindly to take my place." With these words he hurried from the building, and going to the stable of his stopping-place, quickly put saddle and bridle on trusty Bob, and rode like a Jehu in the direction of "Mount Pisgah."

Darkness was settling on the river bottom when Jasper Very came along the road passing by Judge LeMonde's plantation. Riding to the corner he turned to the right, went up the county road to the big gate, opened it, and passed up to the piazza. The Judge and George had returned from their unsuccessful search a half hour before. The planters had gone home for the night, promising to renew the hunt next morning. The sheriff and his men were accommodated at various houses, some stopping at "Mount Pisgah."

As Jasper dismounted the Judge himself met him. For a moment the two strong men could find no words to speak. They shook hands together and looked the sorrow they felt. Then the Judge invited Jasper into the house, ordering a servant to take Bob to the barn. Jasper was most anxious to know all the particulars of the case, and the Judge told him every detail. Their tired, hungry bodies craved some refreshments which were served to them, and soon they went to their rooms to seek that rest which the strenuous efforts of the morrow required.

In the quiet of his room Jasper had a great fight with his own heart. Fierce temptations assailed him. He would have vengeance. If he found those atrocious men he would kill them, if he could. His feelings found vent in some of the imprecatory psalms. Such cattle as Wiles and Turner were not fit to live; they polluted the earth upon which they stood. If arrested, they should suffer the direst penalties of the law.

But after this paroxysm had spent itself, his feeling became calmer. Prayer, like a healing balm, came to his aid. He was able to commit even this trial to the wisdom and help of almighty God.

Thus he found repose in sleep, and in the morning arose with a clear mind, a refreshed body, and a preparation for the heavy duties of the day.

That day the search was renewed with the same vigor as yesterday, but even with the help of Very, who passed through the wilderness like a tornado, the hiding place of the desperadoes was not discovered.

The searchers returned to their abodes well nigh exhausted and discouraged. Judge LeMonde requested Jasper Very to pass the night at "Mount Pisgah," and this the preacher did.

After supper they were sitting on the piazza going over the incidents of the day, and planning what course they would best take on the morrow, when one of them, looking in the direction of the big gate, saw a light shining apparently on one of its posts. He called the attention of the rest to it. They wondered what it could mean. It could not be a firefly. It was not the light of a lantern in the hands of some one walking; the light was too steady. The Judge said to George: "My son, run down the lane, and see what that light means." George needed no urging, but at once went with swift pace to the gate. There he beheld a lighted candle stuck on the top of the right post of the gate. Below the candle was a piece of paper tied with a string, and the string made fast to the post.

George brought both candle and paper to the group on the piazza. The Judge took the paper into the sitting room. On the paper was some writing done with a sprawling hand. He had some difficulty in deciphering it, but at last made out its contents. This is how it read:

"judg lemond yer Dater iz wel and in Gud hans. You must gib 1000 dollars in Gold and She wil kum hum put Mony in Holler Tre whar Riber Bens 4 mile belo bridge-water nex Mundy Eve. If de Man Who Kums for de Gold gits shot or tuk yer Dater wil dy.

"Sind Po Wite."

Judge LeMonde was some time deciphering the note. When he understood it, he called the sheriff and the other men into the room, and read aloud the writing. At once a council was held. The Judge said: "Evidently the bandits have put the time of payment next Monday evening to give me opportunity to get the money from the bank. Sheriff, what do you advise?"

The officer thought deeply for a while, and then answered: "Those are very desperate and determined men. Their reason for abducting your daughter is now plain—it was for ransom. Of course, Judge, you do not put one thousand dollars in the scale against Miss Viola's life. It is outrageous to think of gratifying the wishes of those scoundrels, but I am afraid it must be done, if we cannot circumvent them before that time. We have still tomorrow and Monday to continue the search. Perhaps we can discover their hiding place in these two days."

Jasper Very said: "We must be more diligent, if possible, than before in seeking the captive. Tomorrow is the Sabbath, but I feel it my duty to give up all my church engagements to help find the missing one."

"Tomorrow," added the sheriff, "we will cover new territory in the forest, and let us hope for success."



CHAPTER XXII.

The Rescue.

While the men at "Mount Pisgah" were planning how to deliver Viola from her captors, Mart Spink, father of Susanna, the girl with the wonderful eyes, was down with a severe chill in his cabin among the hills. Cold shivers ran up and down his back, as though a lizard shod with ice were making a playground of it. Then the cold struck his head, and his teeth began to chatter worse than if he were climbing "Greenland's icy mountains." Soon his whole body was in a frigid state which made him cry out for bedclothes, and more bedclothes, and still more blankets and quilts. He shook so with his chilly sensations that the bedclothes above him were in perpetual motion, and the mattress under him was agitated with the motions of his body. Then came on the terrible fever, which was worse than the chill, as the pain of fire is harder to bear than the cold of ice. Poor Spink seemed to be burning up. A dreadful headache seized him, which was only a little relieved when his wife applied cloths wrung out of cold water to his forehead. After some hours came the great sweat, which saturated his night shirt and a portion of his pillow and bedclothes.

This attack was so violent it bordered on a "congestive chill," which the settlers knew to be very dangerous. His wife waited upon him all night, not wishing to keep the children up, and in the morning he was very weak and she much worn.

Susanna rose early and took the pail to milk Brindle. What was her surprise to find the barn door open, and when she looked into the building she saw that their young horse, Chester, was missing. He had pushed the barn door ajar and disappeared. She dropped her pail, ran into the house, and told her mother the news. Mrs. Spink thought it best to inform her husband of the occurrence, though he was still quite ill.

Spink spoke from his bed: "That hoss has prob'ly went back to his old hum. You'uns knows I bought him of a feller away back on de knobs. Sum one must go find 'im. I can't go, nuther can yer ma. Elmiry an' the boys must do the chores. So, Susanna, you must get Maud out'n de barn, an' go after de hoss. It's a long trip, an' I'm sorry ye hav ter go. Take a snack (food) with yer, fer ye'll git hungry."

Susanna replied: "Don't be troubled, pa. I can ride as good as a man. I will gladly go, and try my best to find Chester." Her marvelous eyes shone with a brilliant light, and in a few minutes she was gone.

The girl's quest for the horse might have reminded her of Saul's search for his father's asses, had she been better acquainted with the Bible. As Saul failed to discover the animals, but found a kingdom, so the maid did not find the horse, Chester, but discovered a startling situation.

Her way led by Zibe Turner's cabin, then to the knob, and along its side, ever up toward the former home of the horse. When she had nearly reached the top she came to the little open space containing the hut in which Viola LeMonde was imprisoned.

There was an old well by the hut, but its sweep had rotted down, and the water was stagnant and unfit to drink. Hence, Elmira Turner, the guard of Viola, was compelled to go to a spring one-eighth of a mile distant to get pure water. Having barred the cabin on the outside, she was on such a trip when Susanna rode up.

The rider, with a girl's curiosity, came to the hut to look it over. Viola heard the horse's tread and, looking between two logs from which the chinks had fallen, saw her young friend. "Susanna, dear," she cried, greatly excited, "Sam Wiles and Zibe Turner have taken me by force and brought me here. My guard, Elmira Turner, has gone to the spring for water. Ride as fast as you can, and tell my father or some other friend of my whereabouts."

Susanna was surprised beyond measure at the discovery, and her heavenly eyes glowed like two stars.

"O my dear teacher," she exclaimed, "I have heard that you were carried away. I wanted to help in the search but was not able. This is awful. I will ride back as quick as possible, and try to find some one to come to aid you."

With this she turned her horse about, and applied whip and spur to Maud. Regardless of obstructions frequently in her path—fallen limbs, saplings growing close together, bushes coming to the breast of her steed, springy soil and uneven ground—she rode with a swift pace. Her dark hair streamed behind her. With firm hands she held the reins, and her bright eyes traced the direction to take and also looked for some of the searchers.

She was riding through a thick wood, tolerably free from underbrush, when she was overjoyed to see Jasper Very riding toward her on his well known horse, Bob. The preacher showed the marks of his exertions. His face was flushed, his hair never very amenable to brush and comb, was rumpled by contact with bushes, twigs and leaves. He was moving along swiftly, ever looking for some signs which would lead him to his beloved. He had become separated from his companion, John Larkin.

Susanna and Jasper saw each other about the same time, and in a trice their horses were face to face. Almost breathless with hard riding and excitement the girl told what she had learned.

The preacher was affected as though a current of electricity had passed through his body. For a minute he was too bewildered to think, but by an effort of will he became somewhat more calm and considered what was best to be done.

He said: "Susanna, how can we thank you enough for this information? God bless you for bringing it to me. Now ride as rapidly as possible to your home and ask your father please to loan us a horse and buggy. Bring them along the road as far as you can with ease. If I get Miss Viola out of the hut, I will give her a place on Bob's back, and we will ride till we meet the buggy. Is it possible for you to direct me to the hut?"

"Yes, Mr. Very. When I returned, thinking I might have to act as pilot to the cabin I kept the way in my mind, and I think I can tell you pretty well how to go." She then indicated the route in considerable detail, and Jasper was sure he could find the place.

What deep emotions stirred his breast as he hurried forward! He knew that his darling was alive. This was a great satisfaction. But she was in dire peril. He must rescue her at once at all hazards. He would dare the danger alone, for the searchers being scattered through the wilderness, there was no one to whom he could look for help.

He had learned that Elmira Turner, the monster dwarf's sister, was guarding Viola, and he rightly supposed that Sam Wiles or the dwarf would picket the hut most of the time.

Without any great difficulty Jasper Very followed the route given him by Susanna. At last he saw a little before him the opening in the forest of which he had been told. He dismounted from Bob, and hid him in a thicket. Then he cautiously crept forward and, coming to the edge of the clearing, screened himself behind a big walnut tree and reconnoitered the surroundings. The coast seemed clear. He walked quickly to the door of the hut and said in a loud voice: "Viola, Jasper is here, and has come to take you home. I find the door is locked on the inside, but not the outside. Can you unfasten the door?"

"O Jasper," said Viola, "the woman with me holds the key to the lock, and she will not give it to me."

"No, indeed, I'll not," said Elmira Turner, "an' I defy you to git in. My brother'll be here soon, an' if you want to save yer hide, it will be healthy for you to make yo'self sca'se right off."

"Woman," shouted Very, "if you will not unlock the door I'll break it down."

"Try it," said she.

Jasper did try. He was the strongest man in the county, and it seemed that now the strength of ten men was given him.

The door was made of thick oak. The cabin may have been built extra strong to shelter some former inmates, if attacked by Indians. But at this time the door was weakened by age and exposure to the elements; also it was somewhat worm eaten.

Jasper put his right shoulder to the door, and pushed with all his might. The door cracked a little, but did not break. He took the broken well sweep and, using the larger end (which contained some sound wood) as a battering ram, fiercely assaulted the obstruction. This weakened the structure, but it did not yield. Then Jasper, summoning all his mighty strength, hurled himself against the door, and it fell in with a crash.

He at once passed inside the hut. Taking hold of Viola, he was leading her to the opening, when Elmira Turner, seized hold of the girl to keep her in the room. A struggle ensued. Jasper did not want to strike the Turner woman or treat her roughly. So he was compelled to force Viola from her grasp by main strength. This he did, and taking his betrothed in his arms, stepped out into the sunlight.

Just then the sound of a shot rang out on the stillness of the summer air, and Viola became limp and apparently lifeless in her lover's arms.

Zibe Turner, the monster dwarf, had come to the clearing in the nick of time. He saw the open door. He beheld the rescuer bearing out the captive in his arms. Murder sprang up at once in his heart. He decided to kill the preacher then and there. This he had wanted to do for a long time. But the excitement of the occasion and his own dreadful hate unsteadied his nerves a trifle. When putting his rifle to his shoulder, he aimed at Very's heart, crying out: "Dat's my holt!" The bullet missed its mark, and entered the right shoulder of the lovely Viola.

When the dwarf saw the unexpected result of his shot, even his resolution failed him, and he proceeded no further with his murderous work.

Jasper Very looked down on the senseless form of his beloved, and cried out in the bitter agony of his soul: "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?"

Holding her as he would a little child in his arms, he strode out of the clearing. Quickly coming to his horse, Bob, he unhitched his rein, and holding the unconscious girl tenderly but firmly in his left arm, he swung into the saddle.

With anguish in his soul and unaccustomed tears in his blue eyes, he pressed one kiss upon the pale lips of her who was dearer to him than life. Holding her in as comfortable position as possible, he started down the knob.

Viola gave little if any signs of life. She was wholly unconscious, her face was as pale as death, her eyes were closed, there was no perceptible pulse.

Jasper rode as carefully as possible, but was a considerable time reaching the more open section of the country. At last he came to the very primitive road along which he had not ridden far, when he beheld approaching the horse and buggy he had requested Susanna to get.

Susanna was the driver, and was amazed at what she saw—her Sunday School teacher lying like one dead on the preacher's arm.

Time was too precious for many words of explanation, and it was the work of only a minute or two to place Viola in the buggy, and for Jasper to get in beside her. Susanna rode Bob.

Jasper Very's plan was to take the wounded maiden to Mart Spink's house, and then to hurry for medical help, if she were living.

Driving as rapidly as was consistent with the seriousness of the case, they at last reached the home of Susanna. The daughter rushed into the house and told her mother the tragic story in brief. The woman was greatly shocked, and at once went to the buggy and told Jasper Very that Viola could be put into a bedroom adjoining the one in which her husband lay. Mart Spink was much better now. Such is the way of chills and fever.

Jasper, seeing faint signs of life in Viola, left her to the tender ministries of Mrs. Spink and Susanna, while he rode with all haste for a doctor who lived several miles away.

The women undressed the patient, and put her into the bed. They bathed her wound, and bandaged it as best they could. Fortunately it had not bled excessively.

In due time the physician, who was also a surgeon, came. He probed for the ball, and succeeded in extracting it. He gave those restoratives and remedies which the state of medicine in those days and in that region warranted. He ordered that the patient be kept perfectly quiet, and that no persons but her mother (who became her nurse) and Mrs. Spink should enter the room.

For days and weeks the life of the lovely girl hung in an even balance. Great was the interest which this calamity aroused in the whole country around. The news of the shooting spread with great rapidity. By night all the searchers had heard of it, and as the kidnaped maiden was found and restored to friends, their work in that particular was done, and most of them returned to their homes.

As the golden autumn days came Viola gained a little strength and was able to be moved to "Mount Pisgah." Here Jasper and her intimate friends were permitted to see her for short periods. Her face was as white as the pillow upon which she lay. Her blue eyes had lost their bright, but not their kind and loving, look. Her golden hair was still beautiful, and it seemed an aureole around her head.

One bright day she felt able to hold a longer conversation than before with her betrothed. Very sat by the bedside, holding the thin white hand. The slender finger could scarce retain the beautiful engagement ring her lover had given her.

"Jasper, dear," she said, "how happy I am that I received the cruel ball instead of you. All the suffering I have gladly borne for your sake. Yes, and if it were my lot to be an invalid while life lasts, I would willingly bear the burden, knowing that by the cross I suffer my beloved is able in the full strength of his manhood to preach the gospel and minister to the wants of human souls. So there are compensations in all the ills of life."

"My precious one," said the preacher, "your words are those of her who lives very near the heart of God. The finest thing in the world is sacrifice and suffering for the benefit of others. But you must put far away the idea of being a constant invalid. Gradually you are regaining your health, and before long we shall see you as lively and jolly as ever. By Christmas time I want to behold roses in your cheeks, and see you skip about like a roe upon the mountains. Keep up a brave, trustful spirit, and I believe all will be well."

He kissed his betrothed tenderly, stroked her beautiful hair, and retired from the room.



CHAPTER XXIII.

A Battle With Moonshiners.

Sam Wiles and Zibe Turner, the monster dwarf, were not captured by the sheriff and his men. For a number of days after the wounding of Viola LeMonde the officers and others kept a sharp watch on the cabins of both outlaws, and tried to find them in some of the fastnesses of the hills. But the bandits were too cunning for them. They seldom dared to enter their homes, but spent most of their time in the open or in the shelter of the cave where the illicit whisky was made. Some of their confederates were usually near them, ready to give them warning of any officer's approach.

At last the climax came. It was a hot evening in mid-August. Judge LeMonde was sitting under the pine trees, attempting to catch any breeze which might blow from the river when, looking down the road leading to the big gate, he saw a woman approaching.

It was Jemima Sneath, and she was evidently laboring under great excitement. Her eyes were deep sunken and glowed like coals of fire. They showed what was in her heart—jealousy, hate, anger, recklessness, courage, determination. Her thick black hair was loosely put together, stray locks falling here and there about her face and neck.

"Jedge LeMonde," she said, "I am Jemima Sneath, and I live back in de hills. I hev somethin' I wish to tell you. Can I see you by yerself?"

"Certainly, my good woman," replied the Judge, "let me lead you into my private office."

When they were seated Jemima began her story: "Jedge, I have cum to you for revenge. For more'n two years I have bin Sam Wiles' gal, and a year ago he promised to marry me. I have bin true to 'im and bin willin' to set de day any time. But lately his love for me has growd cold, and he has bin goin' with annoder gal in de hills. Yisterday dis gal and I met and had sum words, and she up and tol' me that Sam Wiles had left me for her. With dis I sprung upon her like a wild cat and tore her clothes, scratched her face, and pulled part of her hair out by de roots. Den I left her and marched straight to Sam's cabin, and asked im if wat de gal said was true. He said it war, dat he had lost his luv for me and put it on Kate Sawyer. Sumthing like a knife seemed to cut my heart, and I wanted to die. I left Sam Wiles, sayin': 'Sam, good-by forever; you have broke my heart, and I'll break yourn.'"