"It was a slave State, wasn't it, papa, and one that seceded in the time of the Civil War?" asked Elsie Raymond.
"Yes; on the 11th of January, 1861, the State seceded from the Union and joined the Southern Confederacy. A sad thing for her, for a great deal of the desperate fighting took place within her borders. The losses in the upper counties were immense, and raiding parties frequently desolated the central ones. Forts Gaines and Morgan, defending the entrance to Mobile Bay, were besieged and taken by the United States forces in 1865, and in the same year the victory of Mobile Bay, the severest naval battle of the war, waswon by the national forces under Admiral Farragut."
"But the folks there are not rebs any more, I suppose," remarked Ned in a tone of inquiry.
"No, my son," replied the captain. "I believe the most, if not all, of them are good Union people, now proud and fond of this great country, the United States of America."
"Your story of Alabama was very interesting, I think, papa," said Elsie Raymond, "and if you are not too tired, won't you now tell us about Mississippi?"
"Yes," replied the captain. "I have told you about De Soto and his men coming there in 1540. At that time what is now the territory of that State was divided between the Chickasaw, Choctaw and Natchez Indians. It was more than a hundred years afterward, in 1681, that La Salle descended the Mississippi River from the Illinois country to the Gulf of Mexico; and in 1700 Iberville, the French governor of Louisiana, planted a colony on Ship Island, on the gulf coast. That settlement was afterward removed to Biloxi, on the mainland. Bienville, another governor of Louisiana, established a post on theMississippi River, and called it Fort Rosalie. That was in 1761, and now the city of Natchez occupies that spot. A few years later, in 1729, the Natchez Indians, growing alarmed at the increasing power of the French, resolved to exterminate them. On the 28th of November of that year they attacked the settlement of Fort Rosalie and killed the garrison and settlers—seven hundred persons. When that terrible news reached New Orleans, Bienville resolved to retaliate upon the murderers. The Chickasaws were enemies of the Natchez; he applied to them for help, and they furnished him with sixteen thousand warriors. With them and his own troops Bienville besieged the Natchez in their fort, but they escaped in the night and fled west of the Mississippi. The French followed and forced them to surrender, then took them to New Orleans, sent them to the island of St. Domingo, and sold them as slaves."
"All of them, papa?" asked Ned.
"Nearly all, I believe," replied his father; "they were but a small nation, and very little was heard of them after that. The Chickasaws were a large and powerful tribe living in the fertile region of the upper Tombigbee; the French knew that they had incited the Natchez against them, and now Bienville resolved to attack them. In 1736 he sailed from New Orleans to Mobile with a strong force of French troops and twelve hundred Choctaw warriors. From Mobile he ascended the Tombigbee River in boats for five hundred miles, to the southeastern border of the present county of Pontotoc. The Chickasaw fort was a powerful stronghold about twenty-five miles from that point.
"Bienville took measures to secure his boats, then advanced against the enemy. He made a determined assault on their fort, but was repulsed with the loss of one hundred men, which so discouraged him that he dismissed the Choctaws with presents, threw his cannon into the Tombigbee, re-embarked in his boats,floated down the river to Mobile, and from there returned to New Orleans.
"He had expected to have the co-operation of a force of French and Indians from Canada, commanded by D'Artaguette, the pride and flower of the French at the North, and some Indians from Canada, assisted by the Illinois chief Chicago, from the shore of Lake Michigan. All these came down the river unobserved to the last Chickasaw bluff. From there they penetrated into the heart of the country. They encamped near the appointed place of rendezvous with the force of Bienville, and there waited for some time for intelligence from him. It did not come, and the Indian allies of D'Artaguette became so impatient for war and plunder that they could not be restrained, and at length he (D'Artaguette) consented to lead them to the attack. He drove the Chickasaws from two of their fortified villages, but was severely wounded in his attack on the third. Then the Indians fled precipitately, leaving theirwounded commander weltering in his blood. Vincennes, his lieutenant, and their spiritual guide and friend, the Jesuit Senate, refused to fly, and shared the captivity of their gallant leader."
"And did the Indians kill them, papa?" asked Ned.
"No, not then; hoping to receive a great ransom for them from Bienville, who was then advancing into their country, they treated them with great care and attention; but when he retreated they gave up the hope of getting anything for their prisoners, therefore put them to a horrible death, burning them over a slow fire, leaving only one alive to tell of the dreadful fate to their countrymen."
"Oh, how dreadful!" sighed Elsie Raymond. "I'm thankful we did not live in those times and places."
"Yes, so am I," said her father. "God has been very good to us to give us our lives in this good land, and these good times. It isyears now since the Indians were driven out of Alabama and Mississippi. They and Florida passed into the hands of the English in 1763. In 1783 the country north of the thirty-first parallel was included within the limits of the United States. According to the charter of Georgia, its territory extended to the Mississippi, but in 1795 the legislature of that State sold to the general government that part which now constitutes the States of Alabama and Mississippi. In 1798 the Territory of Mississippi was organized, and on the 10th of December, 1817, it was admitted into the Union as a State. On the 9th of January, 1861, the State seceded from the Union and joined the Southern Confederacy. And some dreadful battles were fought there in our Civil War—those of Iuka and Corinth, Jackson, Champion Hills and other places. That war caused an immense destruction of property. The State was subject to military rule until the close of the year 1869, when it was readmitted into the Union."
The captain paused, seeming to consider his story of the settlement of the State of Mississippi completed; but Grandma Elsie presently asked: "Isn't there something more of interest in the story of the Natchez which you could tell us, captain?"
"Perhaps so, mother," he replied. "It was a remarkable tribe, more civilized than any other of the original inhabitants of these States. Their religion was something like that of the fire-worshippers of Persia. They called their chiefs 'suns' and their king the 'Great Sun.' A perpetual fire was kept burning by the ministering priest in the principal temple, and he also offered sacrifices of the first fruits of the chase; and in extreme cases, when they deemed their deity angry with them, they offered sacrifices of their infant children to appease his wrath. When Iberville was there, one of the temples was struck by lightning and set on fire. The keeper of the fane begged the squaws to throw their little ones into the fire to appease the angrygod, and four little ones were so sacrificed before the French could persuade them to desist from the horrid rite. The 'Great Sun,' as they called their king, had given Iberville a hearty welcome to his dominions, paying him a visit in person. He was borne to Iberville's quarters on the shoulders of some of his men, and attended by a great retinue of his people. A treaty of friendship was made, and the French given permission to build a fort and establish a trading-post among the Indians—things that, however, were not done for many years. A few stragglers at that time took up their abode among the Natchez, but it was not until 1716 that any regular settlement was made; then Fort Rosalie was erected at that spot on the bank of the Mississippi where the city of Natchez now stands.
"Well, as I have told you, Grand or Great Sun, the chief of the Natchez, was at first the friend of the whites; but one man, by his overbearing behavior, brought destruction on the whole colony. The home of the GreatSun was a beautiful village called the White Apple. It was spread over a space of nearly three miles, and stood about twelve miles south of the fort, near the mouth of Second Creek, and three miles east of the Mississippi. M. D. Chopart, the commandant of the fort, was so cruel and overbearing, so unjust to the Indians, that he commanded the Great Sun to leave the village of his ancestors because he, M. D. Chopart, wanted the grounds for his own purposes. Of course the Great Sun was not willing, but Chopart was deaf to all his entreaties, which led the Natchez to form a plot to rid their country of these oppressors.
"Before the attempt to carry it out, a young Indian girl, who loved the Sieur de Mace, ensign of the garrison, told him with tears that her nation intended to massacre the French. He was astonished, and questioned her closely. She gave him simple answers, shedding tears as she spoke, and he was convinced that she was telling him only the truth. So he at once repeated it to Chopart, but heimmediately had the young man arrested for giving a false alarm.
"But the fatal day came—November 29, 1729. Early in the morning Great Sun, with a few chosen warriors, all well armed with knives and other concealed weapons, went to Fort Rosalie. Only a short time before the company had sent up a large supply of powder and lead, also provisions for the fort. The Indians had brought corn and poultry to barter for ammunition, saying they wanted it for a great hunt they were preparing for, and the garrison, believing their story, were thrown off their guard, and allowed a number of the Indians to come into their fort, while others were distributed about the company's warehouse. Then, after a little, the Great Sun gave a signal, and the Indians at once drew out their weapons and began a furious massacre of the garrison and all who were in or near the warehouse. And the same bloody work was carried on in the houses of the settlers outside of the fort.
"It was at nine o'clock in the morning the dreadful slaughter began, and before noon the whole male population of that French colony—seven hundred souls—were sleeping the sleep of death. The women and children were kept as prisoners, and the slaves that they might be of use as servants. Also two mechanics, a tailor and a carpenter, were permitted to live, that they might be of use to their captors. Chopart was one of the first killed—by a common Indian, as the chiefs so despised him that they disdained to soil their hands with his blood.
"The Great Sun sat in the company's warehouse while the massacre was going on, smoking his pipe unconcernedly while his warriors were piling up the heads of the murdered Frenchmen in a pyramid at his feet, Chopart's head at its top, above all those of his officers and soldiers. As soon as the Great Sun had been told by his Indians that all the Frenchmen were dead, he bade them begin their pillage. They then made the negroslaves bring out the plunder for distribution, except the powder and military stores, which were kept for public use in future emergencies."
"And did they bury all those seven hundred folks that they killed, papa?" asked Ned.
"No," replied his father; "they left them lying strewed about in every place where they had struck them down to death, dancing over their mangled bodies with horrid yells in their drunken revelry; then they left them there unburied, a prey for hungry dogs and vultures. And all the dwellings in all the settlements they burned to ashes."
"Didn't anybody at all get away from them, uncle?" asked Alie Leland.
"Nobody who was in the buildings at the time of the massacre," replied the captain; "but two soldiers who happened to be then in the woods escaped and carried the dreadful tidings to New Orleans."
"I'm glad they didn't go back to the fort and get caught by those savage Indians," saidElsie Dinsmore. "But how did they know that the Indians were there and doing such dreadful deeds?"
"By hearing the deafening yells of the savages and seeing the smoke going up from the burning buildings. Those things told them what was going on, and they hid themselves until they could get a boat or canoe in which to go down the river to New Orleans, which they reached in a few days; and there, as I have said, they told the sad story of the awful happening at the colony on the St. Catherine."
"Were there any other colonies that the Indians destroyed in that part of our country, papa?" asked his daughter Elsie.
"Yes; one on the Yazoo, near Fort St. Peter, and those on the Washita, at Sicily Island, and near the present town of Monroe. It was a sad time for every settlement in the province."
"When the news of this terrible disaster reached New Orleans, the French began awar of extermination against the Natchez. They drove them across the Mississippi, and finally scattered and extirpated them. The Great Sun and his principal war chiefs were taken, shipped to St. Domingo and sold as slaves. Some of the poor wretches were treated with barbaric cruelty—four of the men and two of the women were publicly burned to death at New Orleans. Some Tonica Indians brought down a Natchez woman, whom they had found in the woods, and were allowed to burn her to death on a platform erected near the levee, the whole population looking on while she was consumed by the flames. She bore all that torture with wonderful fortitude, not shedding a tear, but upbraiding her torturers with their want of skill, flinging at them every opprobrious epithet she could think of."
"How very brave and stoical she must have been, poor thing!" remarked Grace. "But, papa, have not the Natchez always been consideredsuperior to other tribes in refinement, intelligence and bravery?"
"Yes," he replied; "it is said that no other tribe has left so proud a memorial of their courage, independent spirit and contempt of death in defence of their rights and liberties. The scattered remnants of the tribe sought an asylum among the Chickasaws and other tribes who were hostile to the French; but since that time the individuality of the Natchez tribe has been swallowed up among others with whom they were incorporated. In refinement and intelligence they were equal, if not superior, to any other tribe north of Mexico. In courage and stratagem they were inferior to none. Their form was noble and commanding, their persons were straight and athletic, their stature seldom under six feet. Their countenances indicated more intelligence than is commonly found in savages. Some few individuals of the Natchez tribe were to be found in the town of Natchez as late as the year 1782, more than half a century after the Natchez massacre."
"Well, well, well! I should think you youngsters might be ashamed to keep that poor captain talking and telling stories so long, just for your amusement," remarked a strange voice, coming apparently from the half open doorway of a nearby stateroom. "Can't you let him have a little rest now?"
"Of course," replied Ned. "He tells splendid stories, and we like to listen to them; but we don't want him to go on if he feels tired, for he is our own dear, kind, good papa, whom we love ever so much."
"Huh!" returned the voice; "actions speak louder than words. So don't coax for any more stories now. Have a good game of romps instead."
"The rest can do that," said Ned; "but uncle doctor wouldn't be likely to let me romp very much."
"And you think you have to obey him, do you?"
"Of course, if I want him to cure me; and I'm very sure you would think me a naughty boy if I didn't."
"If you didn't want to be cured?"
"No; if I didn't mind my uncle doctor."
"I thought he was your brother; he's married to your sister, isn't he?"
"Yes," laughed Ned; "and that makes him my brother; but he's my mother's own brother, and that makes him my uncle. So he's both uncle and brother, and that makes him a very near relation indeed."
"So it does, my little fellow, and you would better mind all he says, even if he is a young doctor that doesn't know quite all the old doctors do."
"He knows a great deal," cried Ned indignantly; "lots more, I guess, than some of the other doctors that think they are very smart and know everything."
"Well, you needn't get mad about it," returnedthe voice. "I like Dr. Harold Travilla, and when I get sick I expect to send for him."
"But who are you?" asked Ned. "Why don't you come out of that stateroom and show yourself?"
"Perhaps I might if I got a polite invitation," replied the voice.
Ned was silent for a moment, first looking steadily toward the door from which the voice had seemed to come, then turning a scrutinizing, questioning gaze upon Cousin Ronald.
The others in the room were all watching the two and listening as if much entertained by the talk between them.
"I just know it's you, Cousin Ronald, making fun for us all," the little boy remarked at length; "and that's very kind in you, for fun is right good for folks, isn't it, Uncle Harold?"
"Yes, I think so," replied the doctor; "'laugh and grow fat' is an old saying. So Ihope the fun will prove beneficial to my young patient."
"I hope so," said the captain, "and now suppose you young folks rest yourselves with some sort of games."
"I think we would all better wrap up and try a little exercise upon the deck first, and after that have some games," said Harold, and everybody promptly followed his advice.
When they had had their exercise and played a few games, dinner was served. After that they again gathered in the saloon, and presently the young folks asked for another of the captain's interesting stories of the States.
"Well, my dears, about which State do you wish to hear now?" he asked.
"I believe we all want Louisiana, papa," replied his daughter Elsie. "We know the story of the battle of New Orleans under General Jackson—that grand victory—and pretty much all that went on in the time of the Civil War, I believe; but I don't rememberthat you have ever given us any of the early history of that State."
"Well, I shall try to do so now," her father said in reply, and after a moment's silent thought he began.
"Louisiana is the central Gulf State of the United States, and has the Gulf of Mexico for its southern boundary; the Sabine River and Texas form the western boundary, and on the east is the Mississippi River, separating it from the State of that name, which is the northern boundary of that part of Louisiana east of the river. The part west of that river is bounded on the north by Arkansas.
"That part of what is now our country was not taken by the whites from the Indians so early as the more northern and eastern parts. History tells us that Robert Cavalier de la Salle descended the Mississippi to its mouth in April, 1682, named the country Louisiana, and took possession of it in the name of the King of France. In 1699 Iberville triedto form a settlement along the lower part of the river, but succeeded only in forming the colony of Biloxi, in what is now the State of Mississippi. In 1712, Louis XIV. of France named the region for himself, and granted it to a wealthy capitalist named Antony Crozat, giving him exclusive trading rights in Louisiana for ten years. In about half that time Crozat gave back the grant to the King, complaining that he had not been properly supported by the authorities, and had suffered such losses in trying to settle the province as almost to ruin him.
"In the same year a man named John Law got the King to give him a charter for a bank and for a Mississippi company, and to grant the province to them. For a time he carried out his scheme so successfully that the stock of the bank went up to six hundred times its par value; but it finally exploded and ruined every one concerned in it.
"It had, however, accomplished the settlement of New Orleans. In 1760 a war wasbegun between England and France, in which the former took Canada from the latter. Then a good many Canadians emigrated to Louisiana, and settled in that part of it west of the Mississippi. In 1762 France ceded her possessions in Louisiana west of the Mississippi to Spain, and the country east of that river to England. New Orleans was soon taken possession of by the Spanish authorities, who proved themselves so cruel and oppressive that the French settlers were filled with dismay. The Spaniards still held that province at the time of the American Revolution, and near the close of that war the Spanish governor of New Orleans captured the British garrison at Baton Rouge."
"I suppose that was hardly because he wanted to help us," laughed Elsie Dinsmore.
"No," smiled the captain; "I rather think he wanted to help himself. The navigation of the Mississippi River was opened to all nations by the treaty of 1783, but the New Orleans Spaniards completely neutralized itby seizing all merchandise brought to that city in any but Spanish ships. In 1800 Spain ceded Louisiana back to France, but it suited Napoleon, then emperor of that country, to keep the transfer a secret until 1803, when he sent out Laussat as prefect of the colony, who informed the people that they were given back to France, which news filled them with joy.
"Jefferson was then our President, and on learning these facts, he directed Robert Livingston, the American Minister at Paris, to insist upon the free navigation of the Mississippi, and to negotiate for the acquisition of New Orleans itself and the surrounding territory. Mr. Monroe was appointed with full powers to assist him in the negotiation.
"Bonaparte acted promptly. He saw that the English wanted Louisiana and the Mississippi River, and was determined that they should not have them. They had twenty vessels in the Gulf of Mexico, and he saw that they might easily take Louisiana, andto deprive them of all prospect of that, he was inclined to cede it to the United States. He (Bonaparte) speedily decided to sell to the United States not New Orleans only, but the whole of Louisiana, and did so. On the 30th of April, 1803, the treaty was signed. Our country was to pay $15,000,000 for the colony, be indemnified for some illegal captures, and the vessels of France and Spain, with their merchandise, were to be admitted into all the ports of Louisiana free of duty for twelve years. Bonaparte stipulated in favor of Louisiana that as soon as possible it should be incorporated into the Union and its inhabitants enjoy the same rights, privileges and immunities as other citizens of the United States; and the third article of the treaty, securing these benefits to them, was drawn up by Bonaparte himself and presented to the plenipotentiaries with the request that they would make it known to the people of Louisiana that the French regretted to part with them, and had stipulated for allthe advantages they could desire; and that in giving them up France had secured them the greatest of all; for in becoming independent they would prosper as they never could have done under any European government. But he bade them, while enjoying the privileges of liberty, ever to remember that they were French, and preserve for their mother country the affection which a common origin inspires.
"This was a most important transaction, and its completion gave equal satisfaction to both parties. Livingston said, 'I consider that from this day the United States takes rank with the first powers of Europe, and she is entirely escaped from the power of England;' and Bonaparte said, 'By this cession of territory I have secured the power of the United States, and given to England a maritime rival who at some future time will humble her pride.'
"And that seems like a prophecy which came true, when one thinks of Jackson's victory onthe 8th of January, 1815," remarked Grandma Elsie.
"Yes," assented the captain; "that was a signal overthrow to British troops on the plains of Louisiana."
"Yes; I remember that was a great victory for our United States troops," said Elsie Dinsmore. "But who of our folks took possession now that it was bought from the French, and just when did they do it?"
"It was on the 20th of December of that same year," replied the captain, "that General Wilkinson and Governor Claiborne, who were jointly commissioned to take possession of the country for the United States, entered New Orleans at the head of the American troops. The French governor gave up his command, and the tri-colored flag of France gave place to the star-spangled banner."
"Oh, that was good," said Elsie Dinsmore; "and was Louisiana made a State at once, captain?"
"No," he replied; "it was erected into aTerritory by Congress in 1804. In 1810 the Spanish post at Baton Rouge was seized by the United States forces under General Wilkinson and the territory connected with it added to Louisiana, which in 1812 was admitted into the Union as a State."
"But, papa, was what is now the State of Louisiana all we bought from France by that treaty of 1803?" asked Grace.
"No, by no means," replied the captain. "The territory purchased by that treaty is now occupied by the States of Louisiana, Arkansas, Missouri, Iowa, Minnesota, Kansas, Nebraska, Oregon, Dakota, Colorado, Utah, Wyoming, Montana, Idaho and Washington."
"My, what a big purchase it was!" cried Ned. "But how did France get so much?"
"No doubt she just helped herself," laughed his sister. "The State went out of the Union in the time of the Civil War, didn't it, papa?"
"Yes; on the 26th of January, 1861, but was readmitted into the Union on the 25th of June, 1868."
"These stories of the States have been very interesting to me, captain," remarked Mr. Lilburn, breaking a little pause which had followed the conclusion of the brief sketch just given of the early history of Louisiana.
"I feel flattered that my crude efforts in that line should be so highly appreciated," returned the captain, with a gratified smile as he spoke, then added, "And now, if you feel like making a return in kind, Cousin Ronald, suppose you give us a page or two of Scottish history, than which I think there is hardly anything more interesting."
"I acknowledge that it is very interesting to me, a native of that land, though now feeling myself a full-fledged American, but how is it with these younger folk?" returned Mr. Lilburn, glancing inquiringly around upon the ladies and children.
It was Grandma Elsie who answered in tones of pleased anticipation, "Indeed, cousin, I should be delighted; for to me the history of that grandfather land of mine is only secondary in interest to that of this, my dear native land, largely peopled by the descendants of those who struggled so bravely for civil and religious liberty in Scotland."
"Ah, cousin mine, I am glad to ken that you care for that auld fatherland o' yours and mine," returned the old gentleman, smiling affectionately upon her. "There are many passages in her history that are interesting and heart stirring to the pride and love of the descendants of the actors in the same. But to what particular passages in her history shall I call your attention now?"
The query seemed addressed to all present, and Elsie Dinsmore answered quickly and earnestly, "Oh, tell us all you can about that beautiful, unfortunate Mary, Queen of Scots. I suppose you must have seen all the palacesand castles she ever lived in there in Scotland?"
"Yes, my bonny bairn, I have, and regard them with great interest because of her one-time occupation of them. Linlithgow Castle is now only a picturesque old ruin, yet one may stand in the very room, now roofless, to be sure, where Queen Mary was born. The walls of that castle were very thick and strong, but not then deemed strong enough to protect the royal infant, born on the 7th of December, 1542. There was rejoicing at her birth, but it would have been greater had she been a lad instead of a lass. Her father, then on his deathbed, exclaimed when he heard the news, 'Woe to the crown of Scotland; it came with a lass and it will go with a lass.'
"Her sex was a disappointment to Scottish hearts, yet still they loved her, and would do all in their power to protect and defend her, especially from the English King, Henry VIII., with whom they were then at war, and who was doing all in his power to getpossession of the little princess, purposing in time to marry her to his son, and so unite the two kingdoms under one crown."
"Why, that would have been a fine way to put a stop to the fighting between the two kingdoms, I should think," said Elsie Dinsmore.
"Perhaps, if he had offered good terms, but those he did offer were so harsh that Scotland's Parliament rejected them, and for greater security both Mary and her mother were taken from Linlithgow to Stirling Castle, a grand fortress atop of a lofty hill above the beautiful valley of Monteith. It seemed a safe place for the bonny baby queen, but some wicked, treacherous men formed a plot to carry her off to England; but it failed because her guardians were so very cautious as never to admit more than one person at a time to see her.
"So many dangers threatening her, it was thought best to crown her queen as soon as possible, and when she was nine months oldshe was one Sunday morning taken from her nursery to the chapel of the castle. There one of her nobles held her on the throne and spoke for her the words she should have spoken had she been old enough. Then the Cardinal held the crown over her head, and for a moment clasped her tiny fingers about the scepter, and buckled the sword of state around her waist. Then every peer and prelate present, one after another, knelt before her, held his right hand above her baby head, and swore to defend her with his life. But alas, alas! few o' them proved faithful to their oath.
"A strange life lay before that little babe. She was perhaps six years of age when taken to France as a safer place for her than Scotland. She was married early in life to the young King Francis II., but in seventeen months his death made her a widow. She left France for her own land, and arrived at Leith in August, 1561, doubtless little dreaming the sad fate in store for her in the British Isles," sighed the kind-hearted old gentleman,then for a moment he seemed lost in thought.
"Can you tell us in what town and castle she made her home?" asked Elsie Dinsmore.
"Holyrood Castle in Edinburgh," replied Mr. Lilburn. "It was in the chapel of that castle she was married to her cousin, Henry Stuart, Lord Darnley, in July, 1565. She was then about twenty-three years of age."
"Did she love him, Cousin Ronald?" asked Elsie Raymond.
"No doubt of it, lassie, for she had plenty of other offers; it really seemed as though every royal bachelor and widower wanted her for a wife. And small wonder, for she was very sweet and beautiful.
"She called Darnley the handsomest man she had ever seen; doubtless it was his good looks she fell in love with, but a few weeks of wifehood with him showed her that his character was far less admirable than his looks; he was vain, selfish, ungrateful, tookall her favors as a matter of course and asked for more. Soon after their marriage the English ambassador wrote of them, 'The Queen doth everything in her power to oblige Darnley, but Darnley does not do the least thing to oblige her.' She had a few weeks of happiness during their wedding journey through the interior of Scotland, but soon after that Darnley began treating her with brutal unkindness. At a public banquet, only four months after their marriage, he began to drink to excess, urging his guests to do the same. Queen Mary tried quietly to check him, but he turned upon her with such vulgar violence that she left the room in tears. And he was so insolent to the Court in general that he was soon almost universally detested."
"And I should hardly think it was possible for poor Queen Mary to go on loving him," said Elsie Dinsmore.
"Nor should I," said Mr. Lilburn; "for certainly he was very different from what she had believed him to be when she married him.And, poor lady, she greatly needed the right sort of husband to protect and help her, for the nobles who surrounded her were treacherous, unprincipled men, ready to commit any crime that would enable them to govern Scotland to suit themselves, by making the sovereign a mere cipher in their hands. I presume you all know something of the brutal murder of Rizzio?"
"Yes, sir, I believe we do; but please tell us the whole story about it," said Elsie Raymond.
"He was a singer in the chapel of Holyrood Castle, had a voice of wonderful power and sweetness, which so pleased the Queen that she made him leader of the singing in her chapel services. He was a homely man, but a clever linguist, faithful and prudent, and Queen Mary made him her private secretary. The treacherous lords wanted to get rid of him because he was not one of them, yet had so great influence with the Queen; they determined to murder him, and that on the pretencethat the Queen was so fond of him as to make Darnley jealous. It was all a pretence, just to trump up a reason for murdering Rizzio.
"One evening in March, 1566, Queen Mary was in her library at supper, with three friends as her guests—a lady, a gentleman and Rizzio. She did not know that her Lord Chancellor Morton had, just after dusk, led a body of armed men into the courtyard of this, her Holyrood Castle. Some of these men had hidden themselves in Darnley's room, just underneath these apartments of hers, and a winding staircase led up from them. Suddenly Darnley, who had come up this private stairway, entered the room, sat down in a vacant chair beside her, put his arm around her waist and gave her an affectionate kiss.
"It was a Judas kiss, for at the same time the murderers whom he was assisting had stolen softly into the Queen's bedroom, and now they crowded through the doorway intoher presence. She was alarmed, and at once demanded the reason for their intrusion.
"They said they meant no harm to her, only to the villain near her.
"Rizzio understood, and said to her, 'Madam, I am lost!' 'Fear not,' she answered, 'the King will never suffer you to be slain in my presence, nor can he forget your many faithful services.'
"The words seemed to touch Darnley's heart and make him unwilling to perform his part in the wicked work, and Ruthven exclaimed fiercely, 'Sir, look to your wife and sovereign.'
"At that Darnley forced Mary into a chair and held her there so tightly that she could not rise, while one of the ruffians presented a pistol to her side and swore a horrible oath that he would shoot her dead if she resisted.
"'Fire,' she replied, 'if you have no respect for my life,' and her husband pushed away the weapon.
"But now others of the murderous crowdwere in the room, lighting it up with the glare of torches, and Rizzio, clinging to the Queen's dress, begged piteously, 'Save my life, madam! Save my life for God's dear sake!'
"But she could not. The assassins rushed upon him, overturning the table with its lights and dishes. Queen Mary fainted, and Rizzio was dragged out into a narrow passageway and stabbed again and again until his shrieks were hushed in death. There is still a stain upon Holyrood's floor said to have been caused by his blood."
"And what about Queen Mary? Did they hurt her, Cousin Ronald?" asked Ned, much interested in the story.
"When she came out of her faint, poor lady! those lawless nobles, wicked murderers, told her she was their prisoner, then set a guard at her door, and left her to spend the night in anxiety, horror and fear."
"Oh, how wicked and cruel they were!" exclaimed Elsie Raymond. "I hope they got punished for it somehow!"
"It looks as though Darnley did," said Mr. Lilburn, "for in a little less than a year after the murder of Rizzio he, having gone with a few friends to a private house, was in the night blown up with gunpowder; and only about two months afterward Queen Mary married the Earl of Bothwell. That disgusted her best subjects, so that they made her a prisoner and forced her to abdicate in favor of her son, James VI.
"Queen Mary escaped from her prison, collected a large army, and fought for the recovery of her crown and throne, but was defeated, then fled to England. But Queen Elizabeth, though her cousin, was very jealous of her, kept her imprisoned for many years, then had her beheaded."
"Had she any right to do that?" asked Elsie Dinsmore in indignant tones.
"No," replied Mr. Lilburn; "none but the might that is said to make right. Queen Mary was in her power, with none to defend her. Queen Mary, when on trial, said to herjudges, 'I am a Queen, subject to none but God. Him do I call to witness that I am innocent of all the charges brought against me. And recollect, my lords, the theatre of the world is wider than the realm of England.'"
"And did they kill her, Cousin Ronald?" asked Ned.
"Yes; they beheaded her in Fotheringay Castle. It is said that every one was impressed by the melancholy sweetness of her face and the remains of her rare beauty as she drew near the spot where her life was to be ended. Her executioners knelt down and asked her forgiveness for what they were about to do, and she replied, 'I forgive you and all the world with all my heart.' Then turning to the women who attended her, she said, 'Pray do not weep. Believe me, I am happy to leave the world. Tell my son that I thought of him in my last moments, and that I sincerely hope his life may be happier than mine.'
"Then there was a dreadful silence as she knelt down and laid her head upon the block. In another minute the chief executioner held it up in his hand, saying, 'So perish all the enemies of Queen Elizabeth.'"
"What a shame!" cried Ned. "I hope the time came when Queen Elizabeth had to have her head chopped off."
"No," replied Mr. Lilburn; "but hers was not a happy death. She seems to have been almost crazed with grief and remorse over the death of Essex, threw herself on the floor, and lay there, refusing food and medicine for several days and nights, till death came to end the sorrowful scene."
"Then, perhaps, she suffered more than Queen Mary did in her dying time, as I certainly think she deserved to," said Elsie Dinsmore.
"Yes, I think she did," responded Mr. Lilburn; "it seems very possible that her cruel, unjust treatment of her cousin, Queen Mary, may have helped to burden her conscienceand increase her remorse till she felt that life was a burden too heavy to bear."
"Do you think she really wanted to die, and was courting death, Cousin Ronald?" asked Grandma Elsie.
"Her refusal of food and medicine looks like it," he replied; "yet one can hardly suppose that death would be anything but a terror to one whose character was so far from Christian. Her public conduct was worthy of the highest encomium, but not so with her private life. Yet I wadna wish to sit in judgment on her at this late day."
The next day was the Sabbath, the weather clear and mild enough for all, passengers and crew, to gather upon the deck for a short service of prayer, singing of hymns and a sermon read by the captain. After that there was an hour of Bible study in the saloon, Mr. Lilburn leading by request of the others.
Turning over the leaves of his Bible, "Suppose we take for our subject the Confessing of Christ before Men," he said. "Here in Romans we read, 'The word is nigh thee, even in thy mouth, and in thy heart; that is, the word of faith which we preach; that if thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised Him from the dead, thou shalt be saved. For with the heart man believeth unto righteousness; and with themouth confession is made unto salvation. For the Scripture saith, Whosoever believeth on Him shall not be ashamed.'
"What a burning desire Paul had for the salvation of souls. He said, 'Brethren, my heart's desire and prayer to God for Israel is that they might be saved.' And if we are Christians we will be often in prayer and often making effort for the salvation of souls. Let us ask ourselves if it is indeed so with us. And let us strive to make it so, earnestly doing all in our power to win souls to Christ, telling them of the great love wherewith He has loved us, bleeding and dying that we might live; and that all we have to do is simply to come, to believe, to take this offered salvation. 'Whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved.' We have only to call upon His name with real desire for His help, and in an instant He is with us, offering us full and free salvation, purchased for us by His suffering and death, so that we may have it without money and without price.Now, friends, please read in turn texts bearing upon this great subject."
Then Grandma Elsie read, "'For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life. For God sent not His Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world, through Him, might be saved.'"
Then Grace, "'Christ is the end of the law for righteousness to every one that believeth.'"
Then the captain, "'Knowing that a man is not justified by the works of the law, but by the faith of Jesus Christ, even we have believed in Jesus Christ, that we might be justified by the faith of Christ, and not by the works of the law; for by the law shall no flesh be justified.'"
Then Violet, "'By grace ye are saved through faith; and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God, not of works, lest any man should boast.'"
Harold was the next, "'God hath not appointed us to wrath, but to obtain salvation by our Lord Jesus Christ,'" he read, and that closed the lesson, the younger ones seeming to have nothing ready; then presently came the summons to the dinner table.
"Aren't we getting pretty near to Louisiana, papa?" asked Ned at the breakfast table the next morning.
"Near enough for a distant view of its shore," was the smiling reply.
"Oh, I'm glad! Are we going to stop at New Orleans, papa?"
"No; we will not go up to that city this time, but travel directly to Viamede by the shortest route."
"Oh, I am glad of that, for I just long for a sight of our beautiful Viamede; and I think I shall get well there right fast," laughed Ned.
"Maybe so, if you are careful to obey your doctor," said Harold, smiling kindly upon the little fellow.
"It will be ever so nice to get there," exclaimed Elsie Raymond. "Grandma, you were so kind to invite us all."
"Not kinder to you than to myself, since to have you all there makes the place twice as enjoyable and attractive to me," was the pleasant-toned reply.
"Will the friends and relatives about there be expecting us, mother?" asked Grace.
"I think they will, as they were written to that we expected to arrive just about the time we are now likely to reach there."
"I think we shall," said the captain; and they did, to find the expectant relatives gathered at the wharf ready to give them a joyful greeting; for dearly they all loved Viamede's sweet mistress, and they also cherished a warm affection for those who accompanied her, especially her son Harold and his bride. The congratulations to them were warm, especially those of Dr. Percival, who felt that he owed his life to God's blessing upon Harold's wise and kind treatment during thesevere illness caused by that sad fall from his horse many months ago.
And now he and his Maud had a treasure which they were very proud to show to Grandma Elsie and all the others—a lovely baby girl, another Elsie. And Dr. and Mrs. Johnson had still another to show, exhibiting it with much parental pride, speaking of it as still another namesake for their dearly loved cousin, Mrs. Elsie Travilla.
She was much moved. "I am greatly honored," she said; "so many naming their darlings for me. I have brought two with me—Elsie Dinsmore and Elsie Raymond; there is one—Elsie Keith—at the Parsonage; one at Magnolia Hall—Elsie Embury; and now these two dear babies, making six here in all. Yes, and in my more Northern home neighborhood there is my eldest daughter, named for me by her father, and there are several others, the children of friends who have honored me in the same way. I certainly am greatly honored. But, dear Dick and Rob, will it notmake confusion to have two of the same name at Torriswood?"
"Oh, I think not, cousin," laughed Dick; "ours can be Elsie P. and Rob's Elsie J."
"And, oh, Cousin Elsie, if only they get your sweet disposition along with the name," exclaimed Maud, "they will have reason to thank us for giving it to them."
"As I certainly do my father and mother," said little Elsie Keith, standing near and listening with interest to the talk about the name she bore. "They have often told me I must try to be like the dear lady relation whose name I bear."
"Dear child, may you succeed in greatly improving upon your pattern," Mrs. Travilla responded, smiling upon the little girl, gently smoothing her hair and giving her a kiss.
But now came the summons to the dinner table. By the written orders of Viamede's mistress, sent weeks before, a fine, abundant,luxurious meal had been made ready for the occasion, and soon all were seated about the hospitable board regaling themselves upon all the luxuries to be had in that part of the country at that time of the year.
They ate with appetites, at the same time enjoying "the feast of reason and the flow of soul."
The children had a table to themselves, that they might chatter to their hearts' content without disturbing the older folk, and they fully appreciated the privilege.
"Oh, Elsie Raymond!" exclaimed Mildred Keith, the eldest of the children from the Parsonage, "I haven't seen your tee-tee. Didn't you bring it along?"
"No," replied Elsie; "Ned's couldn't be brought because he was not well enough to care for it on theDolphin, and wouldn't have felt willing to leave it to other folks to be troubled with; so it had to be left at home, and as we didn't want to part them, I left mine too."
"Oh, that was good and kind in you," was Mildred's answering remark.
"So we won't have the tee-tees to make fun for us with Cousin Ronald's help," said another of the cousins. "But I know he can make fun even without the little monkeys."
"And he's always so very kind about making fun for us," said another. "He's a dear old gentleman! I'm as fond of him as if he was a near relation."
"And you had a wedding at your house just a little while ago," said another. "I like both Cousin Harold and Cousin Grace, and it seems nice that they are married to each other."
"But does Cousin Violet like it? I heard the folks say it would make her mother to her brother."
"Yes; but, besides, it makes mamma and Sister Grace sisters; so Gracie can say mamma or sister, just as she pleases; but I don't believe it will make a bit of difference in their love for each other."
"No; I don't believe it will, or make her, your mother, and Dr. Harold feel at all differently toward each other. I dare say they will all feel and act toward each other about as they did before the wedding."
"I'm sorry your sisters Lu and Eva didn't come this time and bring that little Mary. Why didn't they and Chester come?"
"Chester couldn't well leave his business, Sister Lu didn't want to leave him, and Eva thought home was better for Baby Mary," Elsie Raymond said in reply. "It seemed hard to leave them behind, but papa said it couldn't be helped. Oh, I wish you could all see Baby Mary! She is such a dear, pretty little thing."
But all the talk was not going on at the children's table; the grown folks were doing their full share, and that with evident enjoyment.
"We understood, Cousin Elsie," said Dr. Percival, "that the cousins from the Oaks and Fairview were to be here."
"Yes, and I think they will be in a few days, coming by rail. They were not quite ready to start when we were, nor would the yacht have held us all. And we may hope for another carousal when they do get here," she added with a merry look and musical laugh.
"Ah, that's a pleasant prospect, if we are to be invited to take part in it," laughed the doctor.
"Ah, Dick, you surely know that is of course," she returned with a look that said more than her words. "A family party here without you in it would hardly be worthy of that name to me."
"Ah, cousin, you are indeed kind to say and to feel so, for I don't seem to myself to deserve to be so estimated by you. I am really worth but little except as a physician; and Harold here can outdo me in that line," he added, giving Harold a warmly affectionate look and smile.
"I must beg leave to differ as to that, CousinDick," returned Harold brightly. "I know of no physician to whom I would sooner trust the life of any ailing dear one than to yourself."
"Thanks; that is certainly a very strong endorsement you give me," laughed Dick, coloring with pleasure.
"And I can give you the same," said his half brother and partner, Dr. Johnson. "We seem to be a family of remarkably good physicians, if we do say it ourselves," he added with a hearty laugh.
"I don't think you need; you may safely trust to other folks doing it," remarked Captain Raymond pleasantly.
"But don't expect any of us to get sick in order to give you fellows a chance to show your skill," observed Mr. Dinsmore gravely.
"Oh, no, uncle; we can find plenty of patients among the constant dwellers in this region; so you may feel quite safe from our experimenting upon you—unless you get upan accident that will call for our aid," said Dick.
"I assure you I have no idea of doing that, even to help my nephews and grandson to plenty of employment to keep them out of mischief," laughed Mr. Dinsmore.
"And you needn't, grandpa, so far as I am concerned," said Harold, with a humorous look and smile. "This is Grace's and my honeymoon, you know, and we are entitled to a full holiday."
"So you are, and I shall do nothing to interfere with it," returned Mr. Dinsmore with assumed gravity, but a twinkle of fun in his eye.
"Are Chester and Lu coming with the other party, uncle?" asked Maud.
"No; I understand that Chester has too much business calling for his attention, and that Lu, like the good, affectionate wife that she is, could not be persuaded to leave him; and Eva remains at home for their sake and that of her baby."
And so the talk went on till all the courses of the grand dinner had been served and heartily partaken of.
Then all, old and young, gathered in the drawing-room and spent a pleasant hour in friendly chat. After that cordial good-nights were exchanged, accompanied with plans and promises in regard to future intentions, and one after another the relatives and guests departed for their own homes.
Little, feeble Ned had already been taken to his nest for the night, but the other children were now permitted a brief sojourn upon the front veranda, made delightful by the sweet scent of the orange blossoms upon the trees and the many lovely flowers adorning the moonlighted lawn, that light giving them also a charming view of the more distant landscape.
It was a bright, cheerful party that gathered about the Viamede breakfast table the next morning.
"Southern air seems to agree finely with my young patient thus far," remarked Dr. Harold, looking smilingly at Ned, who was partaking of the good fare provided with an appetite such as he had not shown before since the beginning of his illness.
"Yes, uncle doctor, I'm hungry this morning, and everything tastes good," laughed Ned. "But Viamede victuals always were ever so nice."
"And home victuals poor and tasteless?" queried the lad's mother, feigning a look of grieved surprise.
"Oh, no, mamma; home victuals are good—very good—when one is well, so as to have a good appetite," returned Ned reassuringly.
"Very true, son," said his father; "and you used to show full appreciation of them. So mamma need not feel hurt that you so greatly enjoy your present fare."
"And p'raps his good appetite will make the little chap strong enough for a row on the bayou a bit arter gittin' done his breakfast," said a rough voice, seemingly coming from an open doorway into the outer hall.
"Now, who are you talking that way about me?" queried Ned, turning half way round in his chair in an effort to catch sight of the speaker.
"Who am I? Somebody that knows a thing or two 'bout boys an' what they can do, an' what they like; an' I guess you're not much different from other fellows o' your age an' sect. Be ye now?"
"No, I guess not," laughed Ned. "I don't belong to any sect, though. But I suppose you mean sex. I'm of the male kind."
"Oh, you are. Then I s'pose you're braveenough to venture a row on the bayou without fear o' bein' drowned?"
"Yes, indeed, with all these grown-up folks along to take care of me," laughed Ned. Then looking across the table at Mr. Lilburn, "Now that was just you talking, Cousin Ronald, wasn't it?"
"Why, Neddie boy, do you think that is the kind of English I speak?" queried Mr. Lilburn in a hurt tone, as if he felt insulted by such a suspicion in regard to his knowledge and use of the English tongue.
"No, Cousin Ronald, I didn't mean any harm; but haven't you different kinds of voices for different times and occasions?" returned Ned. "And weren't you kindly trying to make a bit of fun for me?"
"Ah, little chap, you seem to be good at guessing," laughed Mr. Lilburn; "a bit of a Yankee, aren't you?"
"No, sir; I'm a whole one," cried Ned, echoing the laugh. "But, papa," turning to hisfather, "can't we get in a boat and have a row on the bayou?"
"Well, Ned, I suppose that might be possible," was the smiling rejoinder. "Suppose we take a vote on the question. All in favor of the proposition say aye."
At that there was a simultaneous aye from the voice of each one at the table.
Then Grandma Elsie said, "I think it would be enjoyable, but probably the cousins may be coming in to make their party calls before we get back."
"I think not, mamma, if we start early and do not go too far," said Violet; "and we can leave word with the servants that our absence will be short, so that any one who comes will be encouraged to wait a bit."
"I should think they well might," smilingly added Mrs. Lilburn, "seeing what a delightful place they would have to wait in, and plenty of interesting reading matter at hand."
"Yes, I think we really might venture it,"said Dr. Harold, "especially as the little jaunt will probably be for the health of all taking part in it."
So it was decided upon, and the plan carried out shortly after leaving the table.
Every one, especially the younger folk, seemed delighted with the idea and eager for the start. Ned was well wrapped up under the supervision of his mother and uncle, and seated in a part of the boat where there could not be any danger for him of even a slight wetting.
All found it a delightful trip, and returned refreshed and strengthened, the younger ones full of mirth and jollity.
It so happened that they were just in time to greet an arrival of cousins from Magnolia Hall and the Parsonage, presently followed by those from Torriswood. Cordial greetings were exchanged and an hour or two spent in pleasant intercourse, in which plans were laid for excursions here and there through the lovely surrounding country andentertainments at one and another of their homes.
"Don't wait for the coming of the rest of your party of relatives," said Dr. Percival. "We will look forward to the pleasure of having you all again, with that agreeable addition to the company."
"Thank you, Dick," returned Grandma Elsie with her own sweet smile, "we can hardly have more than would be agreeable of these lovely excursions or the delightful visits to the hospitable homes of our kith and kin in this region. And the oftener any or all of you visit us here at Viamede, the better."
"And please understand that we all echo in our hearts the sentiments just expressed by our mother," supplemented Violet in her sprightly way.
"Yes," laughed the captain; "I can vouch for the correctness of my wife's strange and strong assertion."
"And I," added Harold, "join with my brother physician in recommending for thehealth, as well as present enjoyment of us all, the taking of an unlimited number of these delightful excursions by land and water."
"Now let's follow that good prescription," laughed Elsie Dinsmore, and the other young people received the suggestion with clapping of hands and words of most decided approval.
A merry, enjoyable fortnight followed before the expected increase in their numbers, during which Cousin Ronald often entertained them with exhibitions of his skill as a ventriloquist. It did not mystify and puzzle them as it had done when they first made his acquaintance, but, nevertheless, was the exciting cause of much mirth and hilarity. Especially when there happened to be some neighbor present who was ignorant of the old gentleman's peculiar talent; and that often made the call of such casual acquaintances the more desirable and welcome. The relatives from Magnolia Hall, Torriswood and the Parsonage were often visitors at Viamede, sitting with its family on the verandain the afternoons and evenings, and quite frequently callers, more or less intimate, would be there with them; and if Mr. Lilburn felt in the mood or was urged by one or more of the young folks of the family to try his skill, he would kindly do so.
Early one evening, when the gathering was larger than usual, Ned crept to Cousin Ronald's side and whispered in his ear an urgent request for a bit of the fun he alone could make. "Perhaps, sonny boy, if an idea comes to me," replied the old gentleman in the same low key. "Go back now to your mother and be quiet and easy for your health's sake."
Ned obeyed, and leaning on his mother's lap, with her arm around him, listened eagerly for he hardly knew exactly what.
Presently a voice was heard, seemingly coming from a clump of bushes not far away, "Ladies and gentlemen, young folks too, what good times you're having! While I'm but a poor fellow, wandering and homeless in astrange land, no roof to cover me, no bed to sleep in, and nothing to eat. Ah, woe's me! What can I do but lie down and die?"
"No, you needn't," called out Ned. "Go round to the kitchen and ask politely for something to eat, and you'll get it."
"I don't believe they'd give me a bite. I'm not a beggar, either, an' to take to that trade wad be worse nor dying an honest, upright, self-supporting man."
"Why, who is it, and what does he want?" queried one of Viamede's visitors in tones of surprise and disgust.
"Let's go down and see; give him some money, if he'll take it, to buy himself some supper and pay for a night's lodging," said another guest, jumping up and moving toward the veranda steps.
"Tell him we will give him something to eat—send it out there to him, if he wishes," said Grandma Elsie, speaking very soberly, though she felt pretty certain they would find no one there.
The lads hurried down to the bushes that seemed to hide the stranger, and Ned clapped his hands in ecstasy over the idea that they had been so easily and completely duped.
"They'll be greatly surprised and disappointed," said Elsie Dinsmore, "and it's almost too bad, for they seem very kind-hearted and ready to help one in distress."
The other young folks were laughing in an amused way.
"And it was just you, Cousin Ronald, wasn't it?" asked Elsie Raymond.
"Why, what a strange idea!" exclaimed the old gentleman. "I haven't been down there on the lawn for hours."
"But maybe your voice has," laughed Elsie.
"Oh, here they come to tell us about it," exclaimed Alie Leland, as the lads were seen hurrying back in a very excited way.
"There's nobody there!" cried one. "We searched all about and couldn't find a soul."
"No, indeed, we couldn't, and it's very mysterious, I think," added the other.
"Looks as if he'd run off before you got there," said Ned.
"He couldn't. There wasn't time," panted the foremost lad as they came up the steps of the veranda.
"Well, then, it's his own fault if he misses getting something to eat," said Ned, trying hard to keep from laughing.
"Strange how blind some folks are," remarked the same strange voice, seeming now close to the veranda, and followed by a profound sigh.
"Why, there he is again, and nearer than before!" cried one of the lads who had been trying to find him, and both peered eagerly over the railing; but to their evident astonishment, could see no one.
"Dear me, where in the world is he?" exclaimed again the boy who had first spoken. "His voice sounded even nearer than before and yet he's nowhere to be seen."
"Oh, let's look under the veranda," suggestedthe other. "Perhaps he may have crept in there."
"Oh, yes, if Mrs. Travilla is willing," returned his companion.
"I have no objection," she said pleasantly, and they proceeded to look, but soon announced that there was no one to be found there.
"And it certainly isn't worth your while to take such trouble to find so good for naught a scamp," returned Mr. Lilburn in his natural voice. "I wadna try it any more, lads."
"Ha, ha, ha. I knew you couldn't find me!" laughed the invisible speaker, the voice this time apparently coming from the roof of the veranda.