CHAPTER VIII. UNCLE DONALD.

Te Aroha News, Volume III, Issue 115, 15 August 1885, Page 6

CHAPTER VIII. UNCLE DONALD.

In one of the most beautiful nooks in one of the most lovely and fruitful valleys of Alle»hauieB, near the centre of the State of Virginia, surrounded by scenery as picturesque and romantic as is to be found on the continent, lay the town of Owensville. It was a prosperous and thriving town, and thus far, since its first settlement, it had been quiet and peaceful. There was no goal within its borders— no lock-up for criminals of any sort ; and its only court-house thus far had been the dwelling of its chief citizen. A. crystal stream, coming down from the mountains, and emptying into the great river not many miles distant, gave ample wafcer-power to mills and manufactories ; while, not far distant, and within the contines of the town, hundreds of men found employment in one of the richest coal mines in the country. In the central village were a hundred and fifty dwellings, with stores, shops, factories, i church, t»nd school-houses, while outlying were from fifty to a hundred farms of different sizes, all good and productive. The mine was away in a mountainous district, where only one farm had ever been located. Near the centre of the village stood a 'arge, handsome bouse, old, but well preserved, surrounded by extensive grounds, tastefully laid out and ornamented, and

planted with fruit trees and flowering shrub? and vines. In a, ooipfortably <t urn) lied apartmer-t of this houte, on jbtie evening of Monday, April 15fch, 1861, sat the ch'iei man of the to vrn —Dona ld owe\.0 we\. He was sixty years, o? agej of medium helgnt; heavily and strongly built; stout but not obese; his large, low- crowned head covered with a thick mass of sandy hair,' coarse and curling, and thfokly sprinkled with eilver. His eyes were EtnaU and sunken, keen and bright, of a silvery grey colour ; the other features being strongly mavked, and far from attractive. The overhanging brow was deeply w.lnkled, the coarse nair growing low upon it } the nose was broad, with distended nostrils j the mouth large and thick- lipped, the nether lip being very heavy; the chin broad and strong, with a lower jaw in keeping, His ears were peoulinr. The lower parts - the tips — were flattened back upon the base of the skull, signifying a fighter, while the upper parts stood out like a pair of spread wings, denoting great caution. In fact, he was a peculiar man, as will appear before we are done with him, An elegantly ornamented French clock, standing on the mantel, was chiming the hour of five, when the sharp galloping of a powerful horse broke upon the slumbering air, and aroused Donald Owen from a deep reverie. He started from his chair and went to a window overlooking the spacious frpnt yard, and' saw a horse, dust covered and flecked with foam, -with a man just coming down from the saddle on his back. " Aha ! Good !" he\exclaimed to himself ; and having takea a few turns up and dowu the room, he "**sumed his seat just in season to respond te c ap upon his door. "Come in !" he saia. And in came Mr Jacoo Wenzell, with +>he dusi of travel still on his person. He was a servitor who feared not totako such liberties, lie had put off the garb of the sea, and now appeared in a costume such as might have been worn by a well-to-do planter. He entered the room with an oath upon bis lips, exclaiming, as he threw himself into a seat: "Look ye, Owen, if Virginia remains in the Union— if she is content to hold her lot with the mudsills and cotton-spinners, I'm dor c with her. I'll find another berth. " "What's up now, Jacob? What has ba opened?" aVied the host. His voice was hoarse and husky, like a voice broken and worn in howling a^ainat storm and tempest. "I was in Was lington this morning, and Ibrought tins away a? a token that, I had been tl ere." And he turned his fuce into the light, and pointed to his right eye, which was clad in deep iro t nin^. " I had ventured to make an uncomplimentary allusion to their i ail-splitting president ; also, to their flag, when a big elephant of a clodhopper knocked me down." " Didn't you have your pistol ?" "Yes, and there were a hundred men around me who had pistols likewise—" closing with a volley of oaths. "Well, well,— l think I can set your mind at rest. Just re*d that," said Mr Owen, taking from his vest pocket a yellow envelope, from which he took a slip of paper, adding, as he passed it over, "you will keep it to yourself for the present." It was a pi in ted slip, the printing being that of the Houte Telegraph. Wenzell took it, and read as follows : [private and confidential.] "Donald Owen — Virginia will join the Confederacy on Wednesday next, the 17th. The delegates are pledged. Be ready with men and munitions. Prospects glorious. John Letchek." "Good!" exclaimed Wenzell, when he had read. " That's day after to-morrow. Whew ! won't the soft-heads at Washington open their eyes when they see. Won t their hearts sink when they hear the boom of Virginia's liberty-trained cannon ! It is the general belief at the North that our State will not go out. They think we can't afford to do it Very likely Abo Lincoln has fancied himself seated in Richmo-.d, with the blue blood at bis feet. Good ! I am satisfied. Wnen did you get this ?" " Not two hours ago. I have an instrument in my private office, communicating direct with Richmond, Norfolk, a^H, in fact, with ail the chief towns of the H ite. But enough of that for the present What of our friends from over the water ':" Jacob pulled a spittoon to his side, and having bitten a generous piece from the lump he carried in his pocket, he threw himself back like one who felt hia importance, though there was no air of presumption. "I arrived in Washington on Saturday evening, having spent Friday in Norfolk, at the Navy Yard, where a few of us have made partial arrangements for fitting out a privateer if our government shall issue letters of marque, which, of course, they will do. I had not been in Washington an hour before I a&w Captain Darrow, and with him George Bertram. I pointed them out to Dan, and left him to track them ; and he did it faithfully. He knew when their baggage was slOx*ed, and when tickets were bought for Owensville, and he discovered at what hour the young couple would start ; so I had only to quietly see the sights, and hold myself in readiness." "Not a very quiet sight when you got that black eye." " No ; but it mi<jht have been worse. I am not sure that Eertram did not discover me during that passage, Be and Darrow came up just as I was regaining my feet. However, it matters little whether he did or not. He is here, and your beautiful young niece with him. I suppose you will call her so." "I don't know as it makes much odds what I call her. She doubtless knows the true relationship. Let's see : — Ralph's fathor and I were own cousins ; and great great cousin to his daughter ; but I suppose second and third would sound better, because the cousinsbips are so many times removed." "You'd better be her uncle. It will sound better so, "seeing that you are her legal guardian." " All right. I'll be her uncle. And now about yourself. I think, for the present, you and Herter had better keep out of the way." " Certainly. They must not see us until we have settled upon the course we will pursue." " And there comes in the question, Jake, What shall that course be ? This young Englishman must be got out of our way as quickly as possible. He must not converse with our people. You cay he is a keen, penetrating fellow ?" "Yes, keen as a briar." "Then he would be a dangerous man to have around. I have thought of half-a-dozen plans without settling upon any. I wish you had got rid of him on the way." " I took the chances, Captain, and think 1 did for the best. I could not have removed him during the voyage without calling an attention to myself that would have been fatal. The trouble was— they both suspected me — Bertram and the girl. I made a blunder in Calcutta, I must confess ; but it might have been worse. You will acknowledge that my removal of Jack Ciearstar was a good piece of work." " Yes, Jake ; that was well done. You think he is dead, do you ?" "lam very sure he is. In fact, I would, be willing to swear to it. Bless your soul I if he'd been living we should have seen his hand before this."

M That Is so. * But say— about this Englishman—you intimated that you had a plan." f "No, not a plan. I said I had thought.] A thought etruok me when I was reading the governor's telegram. Now if you held a' commiision from him— military— " " Why— blesß you J" broke' in Owen,' eagerly, "lam commissioned as general of brigade, holding military authority over three countries. "Hal My dear Donald, consider the matter as settled. 0 usb commission me to raise a company here in Owensville, and be sure I wilt find moans to put Master George Bertram out of your way." Donald Owen started to his feet with an exclamation of joy and satisfaction. He caught the full intent of his henchman, and was well satisfied. " Thus," puraued Wenzell, "we will get the youth separated from the girl, and af t9r that we can watch our opportunity." "Remembering this one thing," added Owen, hoarsely, — u He must never return to covfound us!" "That will be easily provided for." " I understand that you will attend to the wovk." ~ "Yes. Do you look to the girl, and leave the youthful husband to me." "But," urged Owen, with intense eagerness, "he is never to come back — he shall trouble me no more for ever !" '-'I so understand it." " Do it, Jacob, and you shall never regret it. You shaU need to work no more. Hark! What is that?" "That is the coach from the station, and I mast be off. If lam wanted, send for me to the Maypole. Peter will look out for me." "All right. Take Herter with you, and don't let him show himself while the Englishman is in the place." Wenzell gave his word that all should be propsrly and safely done on his part, after which Owen went to a closet in a corner of the apartment where were decanters and glasses, and mixed for himself a strong toddy of Saint Croix rum. Jacob followed his example, and when they had drunk to the success of their scheming the latter took his leave. Donald Owen had scarcely put things in order and resumed his seat when a servant appeared with the announcement that a gentleman and two ladies had arrived. "Two ladies?" repeated the host, in surprise. "Are you sure ?" " One of them may be a servant, sir." " Ah, ye 3, I remember. Yes, yes— the young lady's Hindoo maid. You may show them in and introduce them." Our hero and heroine had accomplished thetrip from Washington far more pleasantly than they had anticipated. At two or three of the more important settlements, intelligence of President Lincoln's proclama I tion calling for troops had been received, and there the people had been loud and j vociferous in their eager inquiries and acclamations ; but there had been no distur- 1 bance. They had reached the station where they were to leave the cars, at four o'clock, and shortly afterwards the coach had appeared that would convey them to their destination. Standing on the platform of the station, ! and locking in the direction of Owensville, \ as pointed out to them, our youthful adventurers saw that the scenery on the way would be picturesque, if not wild, and surely romantic ; and George obtained seats for himself and Doris upon the outside. There was a comfortably arranged seat behind that of the driver, and a step higher, which they could have to themselves. And they enjoyed it. The ride — twelve miles in extent— proved one of the most attractive and entertaining that had ever fallen to their lot. The road lay through a sinuous valley — or, rather, through a succession of valleys, blooming on every hand with the verdure of the budding spring time ; far and near, and round about them, arose densely wooded spurs of the mountains ; while here and there, in lovely nooks and sheltered glades, the cot of the husbandman gave token of civilisation. "We have nothing like this in England," said George, as they entered a deep vale, with rocky mountain face directly before them, down which dashed a silvery thread of foaming water -a sparkling cascade, losing itself in ethereal distance at the mountain's top. " Nothing like it. Such a cascade as that would be impossible, for there are no mountains for its bed — no such mountains as these. There are wild moun taios in Scotland ; but even there you will not find these surroundings, ' "God grant that the demon of war may not lay its devastating touch upon these peaceful scenes !" murmured Doris from the depths of her heart. The driver, who had heard her earnest ejaculation, and who appeared to be a righthearted man, glancing back towards her, said : " I don't think there's any fear, lady. If the war should happen to take a turn in this section of the country, ifc would naturally follow the great gaps. There ain't no gap hereabouts. This road ends in the mountains, a few miles beyond Owensville." \ While he was speaking, the puffing of a locomotive and the rumbling of cart wheels sounded near at hand, and presently they saw the steam and smoke rising above the trees to the left. George asked if it was the same railway by which they had come from Washington, " No," answered the driver. And he ex plained to them that it was a train fromthe coal mine. A few years si ice there had been opened, within the territory of Owensville, one of the most valuable coal deposits in the country. The coal was not only of the very best quality, but the mine was unusually easy to work. At length they reached OwensvilJe, "Here is Mr Owen's house," the driver said, as he reined up before the archway of the chief residence of the village; and shortly thereafter two men-servants appeared upon the scene, ready to render all assistance needed. "Is this Mr Bertram?" the foremost asked, touching his cap visor as he spoke. George nodded assent. " Your baggage will be taken care of, sir. Here comes Susan, she will show you the way into the house. The maßter is expecting you." Acting under the advice of Capt. Darrow, George had written to Donald Owen from New York, informing him of the arrival of the daughter of Ralph Owen and her husband : so he was prepared for this recognition. Susan Draper, one of the handy tervants of the household, was a bright little eirl, twenty years of age, and if looks could" be believed, she conceived a love for Doris at first sight, and she took to the little Hindoo i maid as to a sister. George saw that the two men were handling the trunks and boxe3 with care, and then, drawing his wife's arm within his own, the twain followed Susan into the wide hall, where Donald Owen met them. They looked at him, and he looked at them. The youth knew that he had met an enemy. He saw it in the quick, searching glance of the basilisk eyes. What Donald Owen thought was this : " The young man is smart and intelligent, and he suspects me j bat neither his smart-

. '•' j" ness nor his foresight can save him. I have the first move, and can check him how and, when I please;'' ' * '. ; On her part, Doris simply thought that the nearest liyiag relative of her father — ' and, so far as she knew, the only — stood before her. The first look he turned upon her was a smile, and her heart warmed towards him. He caught the grateful expression, and. on tVe instant, took advantage of it. With both hands extended, he moved quickly forward. " Doris I My dear niece 1 Permit me to call you so, though your father was my beloved cousin. Sweet child, I cannot tell you how the sight of you gladdens my heart. With tbe exception of my son Eupert, now absent at'college, you and I are the last of our house— its only living representatives. It shall be mine to make you happy if I can. You will call me uncle ?" "Yea certainly, if you wish it." "I do wish it. Bless your sweet face. I am glad you are here. And you, young man, I give you a hearty welcome. If you will make yourself at home, you will please [ me. Now, this way. Susan, you will conduct the lady to her chamber ; see that her luggage is carried up and opened for her, and render her what help you can. And this Miss — who is she ?" " Uncle, tbis is Leila Saba, my maid and my very dear friend. Though of Hindoo parentage, she was born beneath the roof of an English family, and has been brought up with me from childhood. Leila, this is my Uncle Donald." Mr Owen gave his hand to the brighteyed Indian girl, and was evidently struck by her strange beauty. He welcomed her warmly, and then sent her away with the others, after which he turned to the remaining guesb. 'Mr Bertram, we are in the primitive fashion here. We eat breakfast in the morning j we dine at noon ; and sup in the evening. Our supper will be the ne::t meal, and will Boon be ready. I suppose you would like to go to your room and get at a change of clothing before anything else is done." George answered that the arrangement of the meals suited him exactly, and, if it was agreeable, he would go to his room before he supped. " Your private apartment is next door to your wife's, and there is a door of communication between them ; so you can j arrange matters as you plea3e." ' The youth thanked him, and after a few I more remarks of commonplace character, a servant was called to ca^ry up his luggage to his room. Susan and Leila were putting the finishing touches upon Doris's toilet when there came a light rap upon the door communicating with the hall Susan answered the summons, and found Donald Owen there in person. He wished to see his dear niece. "Comein, uncle," she said, brightly, going to the door. " Are you ready for supper, my dear?" he asked, but without stepping over the threshold. " All ready, uncle. Susan has been very handy and very kind." "Bless your bright face!" he cried, taking her hand kindly, " what a pleasure it is to have you here ! My dear, we have a few moments before tea, and 1 have come to ask you to give them to me There are a few questions on family matters, which I wish to ask you alone. Will you come with me to my library ? I will not detain you long." Doris did not think it strange. In fact, she had no time to think. This man, in a measure, might hold her destiny i-a his hands, and she was desirous to please him. Leila would certainly have detained her had opportunity been given her, but Donald seemed to distrust her. As he spoke he smilinecly put forth his hand, and when his fair ward had taken it he led her away without further remark. (To be Continued.)