It was just what I was expecting to hear--Arens Ringgold was at the house.

"That dam n.i.g.g.a am thar, Ma.s.sr George."

Such was literally Jake's muttered announcement.

I received the communication with as much show of tranquillity as I could a.s.sume; I did not desire that Hickman should have any knowledge of its nature, nor even a suspicion that there was anything extraordinary upon the _tapis_; so dismissing the black messenger with a word, I turned away with the hunter; and walking back to the church enclosure, contrived to lose him in the crowd of his comrades.

Soon after, I released my horse from his fastening; and, without saying a word to any one--not even to Gallagher--I mounted, and moved quietly off.

I did not take the direct road that led to our plantation, but made a short circuit through some woods that skirted close to the church. I did this to mislead old Hickman or any other who might have noticed the rapid arrival of the messenger; and who, had I gone directly back with him, might have held guesses that all was not right at home. To prevent this, I appeared to curious eyes, to have gone in an opposite direction to the right one.

A little rough riding through the bushes brought me out into the main up-river road; and then, sinking the spur, I galloped as if life or death were staked upon the issue. My object in making such haste was simply to get to the house in time, before the clandestine visitor-- welcome guest of mother and sister--should make his adieus.

Strong reasons as I had for hating this man, I had no sanguinary purpose; it was not my design to kill Arens Ringgold--though such might have been the most proper mode to dispose of a reptile so vile and dangerous as he. Knowing him as I did, freshly spurred to angry pa.s.sion by Hickman's narrative of his atrocious behaviour, I could at that moment have taken his life without fear of remorse.

But although I felt fierce indignation, I was yet neither mad nor reckless. Prudential motives--the ordinary instinct of self-safety-- still had their influence over me; and I had no intention to imitate the last act in the tragedy of Samson's life.

The programme I had sketched out for myself was of a more rational character.

My design was to approach the house--if possible, un.o.bserved--the drawing-room as well--where of course the visitor would be found--an abrupt _entree_ upon the scene--both guest and hosts taken by surprise-- the demand of an explanation from all three--a complete clearing-up of this mysterious _imbroglio_ of our family relations, that was so painfully perplexing me. Face to face, I should confront the triad-- mother, sister, wooer--and force all three to confession.

"Yes!" soliloquised I, with the eagerness of my intention driving the spur into the flanks of my horse--"Yes--confess they shall--they must-- one and all, or--"

With the first two I could not define the alternative; though some dark design, based upon the slight of filial and fraternal love, was lurking within my bosom.

For Ringgold, should he refuse to give the truth, my resolve was first to "cowhide" him, then kick him out of doors, and finally command him never again to enter the house--the house, of which henceforth I was determined to be master.

As for etiquette, that was out of the question; at that hour, my soul was ill attuned to the observance of delicate ceremony. No rudeness could be amiss, in dealing with the man who had tried to murder me.

CHAPTER SIXTY.

A LOVER'S GIFT.

As I have said, it was my design to make an entrance un.o.bserved; consequently, it was necessary to observe caution in approaching the house. To this end, as I drew near the plantation, I turned off the main road into a path that led circuitously by the rear. This path would conduct me by the hommock, the bathing-pond, and the orange-groves, without much danger of my approach being noticed by any one. The slaves at work within the enclosures could see me as I rode through the grounds; but these were the "field-hands." Unless seen by some of the domestics, engaged in household affairs, I had no fear of being announced.

My messenger had not gone directly back; I had ordered him to await me in an appointed place, and there I found him.

Directing him to follow me, I kept on; and having pa.s.sed through the fields, we rode into the thick underwood of the hommock, where halting, we dismounted from our horses. From this point I proceeded alone.

As the hunter steals upon the unexpecting game, or the savage upon his sleeping foe, did I approach the house--my home, my father's home, the home of mother and sister. Strange conduct in a son and a brother--a singular situation.

My limbs trembled under me as I advanced, my knees knocked together, my breast was agitated by a tumult of wild emotions. Once I hesitated and halted. The prospect of the unpleasant scene I was about to produce stayed me. My resolution was growing weak and undecided.

Perhaps I might have gone back--perhaps I might have waited another opportunity, when I might effect my purpose by a less violent development--but just then voices fell upon my ear, the effect of which was to strengthen my wavering resolves. My sister's voice was ringing in laughter, that sounded light and gay. There was another--only one.

I easily recognised the squeaking treble of her despicable suitor. The voices remaddened me--the tones stung me, as if they had been designedly uttered in mockery of myself. How could she behave thus? how riot in joy, while I was drooping under dark suspicions of her misbehaviour?

Piqued as well as pained, I surrendered all thought of honourable action; I resolved to carry through my design, but first--to play the listener.

I drew nearer, and heard clearer. The speakers were not in the house, but outside, by the edge of the orange grove. Softly treading, gently parting the boughs, now crouching beneath them, now gliding erect, I arrived un.o.bserved within six paces of where they stood--near enough to perceive their dresses glistening through the leaves--to hear every word that pa.s.sed between them.

Not many had been spoken, before I perceived that I had arrived at a peculiar moment--a crisis. The lover had just offered himself for a husband--had, perhaps for the first time, seriously made his declaration. In all probability it was this had been eliciting my sister's laughter.

"And really, Mr Ringgold, you wish to make me your wife? You are in earnest in what you have said?"

"Nay, Miss Randolph, do not mock me; you know for how many years I have been devoted to you."

"Indeed, I do not. How could I know that?"

"By my words. Have I not told you so a hundred times?"

"Words! I hold words of little value in a matter of this kind. Dozens have talked to me as you, who, I suppose, cared very little about me.

The tongue is a great trifler, Mr Arens."

"But my actions prove my sincerity. I have offered you my hand and my fortune; is not that a sufficient proof of devotion?"

"No, silly fellow; nothing of the sort. Were I to become your wife, the fortune would still remain your own. Besides, I have some little fortune myself, and that would come under your control. So you see the advantage would be decidedly in your favour. Ha, ha, ha!"

"Nay, Miss Randolph; I should not think of controlling yours; and if you will accept my hand--"

"Your hand, sir? If you would win a woman, you should offer your _heart_--hearts, not hands, for me."

"You know that is yours already; and has been for long years: all the world knows it."

"You must have told the world, then; and I don't like it a bit."

"Really, you are too harsh with me: you have had many proofs of how long and devotedly I have admired you. I would have declared myself long since, and asked you to become my wife--"

"And why did you not?"

Ringgold hesitated.

"The truth is, I was not my own master--I was under the control of my father."

"Indeed?"

"That exists no longer. I can now act as I please; and, dearest Miss Randolph, if you will but accept my hand--"

"Your hand again! Let me tell you, sir, that this hand of yours has not the reputation of being the most open one. Should I accept it, it might prove sparing of pin-money. Ha, ha, ha!"

"I am aspersed by enemies. I swear to you, that in that sense you should have no cause to complain of my liberality."

"I am not so sure of that, notwithstanding the oath you would take.

Promises made before marriage are too often broken after. I would not trust you, my man--not I, i' faith."

"But you can trust me, I a.s.sure you."

"You cannot a.s.sure me; besides, _I_ have had no proofs of your liberality in the past. Why, Mr Ringgold, you never made me a present in your life. Ha, ha, ha!"