long way, and unless you have brought the savages with you, you will find none here. So, gentlemen, you may go to sleep to-night without fear of being awakened by the Yo-ho-chee.'

'Is that so certain, Miss Randolph?' inquired Gallagher, now joining in the conversation, and no longer broguing' it. 'Your brother and I have reason to believe that some, who have already raised the war-cry, are not so far off from the settlements of the Suwanee.'

'Miss Randolph! Ha, ha, ha! Why, Mister Gallagher, where did you learn that respectful appellative? It is so distant, you must have fetched it a long way. It used to be Virginia, and Virgine, and Virginny, and simple 'Gin-for which last I could have spitted you, Mister Gallagher, and would, had you not given up calling me so. What's the matter? It is just three months since we-that is, you and I, Mister Gallagher-met last; and scarcely two since Geordy and I parted; and now you are both hereone talking as solemnly as Solon, the other as soberly as Socrates! George, I presume, after another spell of absence, will be styling me Miss Randolph-I suppose that's the fashion at the fort. Come, fellows,' she added, striking the balustrade with her whip, 'your minds and your mouths, and give me the reason of this wonderful "transmogrification," for by my word, you shall not eat till you do!'

The relation in which Gallagher stood to my sister requires a little explanation. He was not new either to her or my mother. During their sojourn in the north, he had met them both; but the former often. As my almost constant companion, he had ample opportunity of becoming acquainted with Virginia; and he had, in reality, grown well acquainted with her. They met on the most familiar terms-even to using the diminutives of each other's names; and I could understand why my sister regarded 'Miss Randolph' as a rather distant mode of address; but I understood, also, why he had thus addressed her.

perfect politeness, was changed-much changed; no wonder she took notice of it-no wonder she called for an explanation.

'Quick!' cried she, cutting the vine-leaves with her whip. "Is it a travesty, or are you in earnest? Unbosom yourselves both, or I keep my vow-you shall have no dinner. I shall myself go to the kitchen, and countermand it.'

Despite the gloomy thoughts passing within, her manner and the odd menace compelled Gallagher to break into laughter-though his laugh was far short of the hearty cachinnation she had been accustomed to hear from him.

I was myself forced to smile; and, seeing the necessity of smothering my emotions, I stammered forth what might pass for an explanation. It was not the time for the true one.

'Verily, sister,' said I, 'we are too tired for mirth, and too hungry as well. Consider how far we have ridden, and under a broiling sun! Neither of us has tasted a morsel since leaving the fort, and our breakfast there was none of the most sumptuous-corncakes and weak coffee, with pickled pork. How I long for some of Aunt Sheba's Virginia biscuits and "chicken fixings." Pray, let us have our dinner, and then you shall see a change in us! We shall both be as merry as sand-boys after it.'

Satisfied with this explanation, or affecting to be so-for her response was a promise to let us have our dinner-accompanied by a cheerful laugh-my sister retired to make the necessary change in her costume, while my friend and I were shewn to our separate apartments.

*

At dinner, and afterwards, I did my utmost to counterfeit ease-to appear happy and cheerful. I noticed that Gallagher was enacting a similar métier.

Perhaps this seeming may have deceived my mother, but not Virginia. Ere many hours had passed, I observed signs of suspicion-directed equally against Gallagher as myself. She suspected that all was not right, and began to shew pique-almost spitefulness

CHAPTER LIII.

MY SISTER'S SPIRIT.

There was a period when I believed my friend in love with Virginia; that was shortly after their introduction to each other. But as time wore on, I-in her conversation with us both. ceased to have this belief. Their behaviour was not that of lovers-at least, according to my notion. They were too friendly to be in love. They used to romp together, and read comic books, and laugh, and chatter by the hour about trivial things, and call each other jack-names, and the like. In fact, it was a rare thing to hear them either talk or act soberly when in each other's company. All this was so different from my ideas of how two lovers would act-so different from the way in which I should have acted-that I gave up the fancy I had held, and afterwards regarded them as two beings whose characters had a certain correspondence, and whose hearts were in unison for friendship, but not for love.

One other circumstance confirmed me in this belief: I observed that my sister, during Gallagher's absence, had little relish for gaiety, which had been rather a characteristic of her girlish days; but the moment the latter would make his appearance, a sudden change would come over her, and she would enter with abandon into all the idle bagatelle of the hour.

For the remainder of that day and throughout the next, this unsatisfactory state of things continued, during which time the three of us-my friend, my sister, and my self-acted under a polite reserve. It was triangular, for I had not made Gallagher my confidant, but left him entirely to his conjectures. He was a true gentleman; and never even hinted at what he must have well known was engrossing the whole of my thoughts. It was my intention to unbosom myself to him, and seek his friendly advice, but not until a little time had elapsed-not till I had obtained a full éclaircissement from Virginia.

I waited for an opportunity to effect this. Not but that many a one offered-many a time might I have found her alone; but on each occasion my resolution forsook me. I actually dreaded to bring her to a confession.

And yet I felt that it was my duty. As her brother-the nearest male relative, it was mine to guard her honour-to preserve the family escutcheon pure and untarnished.

Love, thought I, does not so exhibit itself. If there was one in whom she felt a heart-interest, it was not he who was present. No-Gallagher was not the man; and the play that passed between them was but the fond familiarity of two persons who esteemed For days was I withheld from this fraternal duty each other, without a spark of love being mixed up-partly by a natural feeling of delicacy-partly in the affection.

The dark suspicion that now rested upon his mind, as upon my own, had evidently saddened him-not from any feeling of jealousy, but out of pure friendly sympathy for me-perhaps, too, for her. His bearing towards her, though within the rules of the most

by a fear of the disclosure I might draw forth. I dreaded to know the truth. That a correspondence had passed between my sister and the Indian chiefthat it was in all probability still going on that a clandestine meeting had taken place-more than one mayhap-all this I knew well enough. But to what

length had these proceedings been carried? How far
had my poor sister compromised herself? These were
the interrogatories to which I dreaded the answer.
I believed she would tell me the truth-that is, if
entreated; if commanded, no.

Of the last, I felt satisfied. I knew her proud spirit prouder of late. When roused to hostility, she could be capable of the most obstinate resistance-firm and unyielding. There was much of my mother's nature in her, and little of my father's. Personally, as already stated, she resembled her mother; intellectually, there was also a similitude. She was one of those women-for she now deserved the title-who have never known the restraint of a severe discipline, and who grow up in the belief that they have no superior, no master upon earth. Hence the full development of a feeling of perfect independence, which, among American women, is common enough, but in other lands can only exist among those of the privileged classes. Uncontrolled by parent, guardian, or teacher-for this last had not been allowed to 'rule by the rod '-my sister had grown to the age of womanhood, and she felt herself as masterless as a queen upon her throne.

She was independent in another sense-one which exerts a large influence over the freedom of the spirit -her fortune was her own.

In the States of America the law of entail is not allowed; it is even provided against by statute. Those statesmen-presidents who in long line succeeded the Father of the Republic, were wise legislators. They saw lurking under this wicked law-which at most appears only to affect the family relations-the strong arm of the political tyrant; and therefore took measures to guard against its introduction to the land. Wisely did they act, as time will shew, or indeed has shewn already; for had the congress of Washington's day but sanctioned the law of entail, the great American republic would long since have passed into an oligarchy.

Untrammelled by any such unnatural statute, my father had acted as all men of proper feeling are likely to do; he had followed the dictates of the heart, and divided his property in equal shares between his children. So far as independence of fortune went, my sister was my equal.

Of course, our mother had not been left unprovided for, but the bulk of the patrimonial estate now belonged to Virginia and myself.

My sister, then, was an heiress-quite independent of either mother or brother-bound by no authority to either, except that which exists in the ties of the heart-in filial and sororal affection.

I have been minute with these circumstances, in order to explain the delicate duty I had to perform in calling my sister to an account.

Strange that I reflected not on my own anomalous position. At that hour, it never entered my thoughts. Here was I affianced to the sister of this very man, with the sincere intention of making her my wife.

I could perceive nothing unnatural, nothing disgraceful in the alliance-neither would society. Such, in earlier times, had done honour to Rolfe, who had mated with a maiden of darker skin, less beauty, and far slighter accomplishments than Maumee. In later days, hundreds of others had followed his example, without the loss either of caste or character; and why should not I? In truth, the question had never occurred to me, for it never entered my thoughts that my purpose in regard to my Indian fiancée was otherwise than perfectly en règle.

It would have been different had there been a taint of African blood in the veins of my intended. Then, indeed, might I have dreaded the frowns of societyfor in America it is not the colour of the skin that condemns, but the blood-the blood. The white

gentleman may marry an Indian wife; she may enter society without protest-if beautiful, become a belle.

All this I knew, while at the same time I was slave to a belief in the monstrous anomaly that where the blood is mingled from the other side-where the woman is white and the man red-the union becomes a mésalliance, a disgrace. By the friends of the former, such a union is regarded as a misfortune-a fall; and when the woman chances to be a lady—ah ! then, indeed

Little regard as I had for many of my country's prejudices regarding race and colour, I was not free from the influence of this social maxim. To believe my sister in love with an Indian, would be to regard her as lost-fallen! No matter how high in rank among his own people-no matter how brave-how accomplished he might be-no matter it were Oçeola himself!

CHAPTER LIV.

ASKING AN EXPLANATION.

Suspense was preying upon me; I could endure it no longer. I at length resolved upon demanding an explanation from my sister, as soon as I should find her alone.

The opportunity soon offered. I chanced to see her in the lawn, down near the edge of the lake. I saw that she was in a mood unusually cheerful.

'Alas!' thought I, as I approached full of my resolutions- these smiles! I shall soon change them to tears. Sister!'

She was talking to her pets, and did not hear me, or pretended she did not.

'Sister!' I repeated in a louder voice. 'Well, what is it?' she inquired drily, without looking up.

'Pray, Virginia, leave off your play, and talk to me.'

'Certainly that is an inducement. I have had so little of your tongue of late, that I ought to feel gratified by your proposal. Why don't you bring your friend, and let him try a little in that line too. You have been playing double-dummy long enough to get tired of it, I should think. But go on with the game, if it please you; it don't trouble me, I assure you.

A Yankee ship and a Yankee crew,
Tally high ho, you know!

Won't strike to the foe while the sky it is blue,

And a tar's aloft or alow.

Come now, little Fan! Fan! don't go too near the bank, or you may get a ducking, do you hear?'

'Pray, sister Virginia, give over this badinage: I have something of importance to say to you.'

'Importance! What! are you going to get married? No, that can't be it-your face is too portentous and lugubrious: you look more like one on the road to be hanged-ha, ha, ha!'

'I tell you, sister, I am in earnest.'

'Who said you wasn't? In earnest? I believe you, my boy.'

'Listen to me, Virginia. I have something important-very important to talk about. I have been desirous of breaking the subject to you ever since my return.'

Well, why did you not?-you have had opportunities enough. Have I been hidden from you?' 'No-but-the fact is'

'Go on, brother; you have an opportunity now. If it be a petition, as your looks appear to say, present it; I am ready to receive it.'

Nay, Virginia; it is not that. The subject upon which I wish to speak'

'What subject, man? Out with it!'

OF

POPULAR

LITERATURE

Science and Arts.

CONDUCTED BY WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS.

No. 224.

SATURDAY, APRIL 17, 1858.

PRICE 1d.

We must study Bell's Life where it treats of other topics than these familiar ones, to be made aware how numerous and influential-for it has lots of money-the sporting world, the beer-and-skittle population, really is. What enormous concourse of people, it seems, assemble nightly at the Spotted Horse, or the Weasel Asleep, to see, not a pugilistic encounter (for on an occasion of that sort whole towns are covered with a locust flight of the fancy,' and special trains break down with the weight of them), but the mere 'posting' of the third or fourth depositmoney of twenty-five pounds for the great fight for two hundred pounds, between the Lively Butcher and Young Sambo. How much more crowded (we read) the great room at the Lower Welsh Harp is sure to be, on Wednesday next, at the scaling, which is to take place between twelve and one, and whereat neither man must exceed in weight ten stone; where the venue or whereabouts of the forthcoming mill will also be disclosed, which may, however, be learnt even now by safe hands at the Bell and Cauliflower, Barbican, or at Jemmy Durdan's, Crown. What really large sums of money seem to be betted upon these events! how flush of the 'needful,' the 'Californian,' the 'stumpy,' our sporting friends appear to be! How great must be the aggregate amount of deposits in the hands of the editor of Bell's Life alone, for all these matches, in which the total sums contended for vary from four pounds to five hundred. Possessing, thus, considerable wealth, the sporting world, however, is far from being proud or exclusive, the most distinguished members of it being almost invariably referred to by familiar titles, such as these

THE SPORTING WORLD. WE who live cleanly, and have eschewed, perhaps never tasted sack, should nevertheless, it is fitting, turn our attention sometimes to the publicans upon whom also the sun is yet permitted to shine, and for whom-rather superfluously-the waters flow; if even with no other purpose than enjoying a pleasant Pharisaic comparison. These publicans are positively very numerous, and form a considerable, and unhappily by no means uninfluential portion of society. Let us with delicate hand, then, lift a corner of the flaring bar-curtain which conceals them, and let in upon them the pure ray serene of our intelligent observation. The Canadian philosopher has observed that 'Life is not all beer and skittles;' but it is quite clear that he did not comprehend in that remark the well-known and popular journal called Bell's Life. There is a number of that accredited organ of the sporting world now lying before us, and it is our purpose having not so much the interests of science (the culture of the fistic art is there so denominated) as the amusement of the public in view-to dissect it. We find, then, in these annals of a single week, information concerning no less than forty-eight fights, recent or to come; notices of fifty-two pedestrian matches; of fifteen pigeon-shooting engagements; of twelve 'shows' of a canine character; of three rattings; of five matches at quoits; of seven wrestlingmatches; of twenty-eight boat-races; of four performances at bowls; of two rabbit coursings; of three swimming-matches; of one effort of bird-fancy; and of five encounters at a game called Nurr and Spell: besides many score descriptions of yachting, of steeple--Billy Duncan, Young Reed, Doe of Paddington, chasing, of cricket, of chess, and of racing. With these Nat Langham, and Jem Ward. Of this latter gentlelast more legitimate sports, almost all of us, including man, we read: 'Jem Ward is again sparkling in the ladies, are acquainted. Scarcely a Quaker sister his old horizon (King's Arms, Whitechapel Road); of us Britons but must have heard, for instance, that he has painted a picture which he has challenged Blinkbonny won the Derby of '57 with plenty in the world for colour, and can be seen at his house.' hand; she must surely have some 'wet' Quaker We do not consider ourselves capable, nor are we cousin, or cousin no Quaker at all, who is as interested desirous, of criticising this passage, only, with the in the spring meetings at Newmarket as her respect-greatest humility, we should so very much like to able papa is in those at Exeter Hall. Perhaps no well-know what it means. regulated middle-class family in the metropolis is so fortunate that no single member of it at any period has ever had a bet upon some 'coming event,' even if he may have never dropped into Tattersall's to pick up a thing or two upon a Sunday. We are confessedly a racing nation, from the aristocratic followers of the head of the 'great Conservative party,' down to the no less credulous professional gentry of the ring, who call Aphrodite, Aphrodight, 'because Mr Davis says so, and he must know.'

One great peculiarity of the ring is the anonymous character of almost all its heroes at the commencement of their profession; they seem to be quite content to lose all individuality in a name such as 'the Novice,' or even to do without a name at all. For instance: Alec Keene has an old man, fifty-eight years of age, he will back to fight Jesse Hatton for ten pounds, or twenty pounds, a side, at catch-weight.' Our own weight, although we are far from stout, is certainly not what we should understand by 'catch