B O Y D S P A H R
_________________________________TWO WORKS
The sun had gone down; star after star lighted up the dim vault, and now, the moon round and luminous, rose above the horizon. Jerome's heart throbbed audibly. He sat alone, and saw one light after another fade from the cabin windows; he looked toward the hall, the lamp was extinguished; one only light streamed from Ormby's bed chamber; he watched it, and it too was gone. A strange thrill swept the chords of his heart, and a dizziness his brain; he stood motionless; it was the mother, the long, long separation from Julia , his only earthly friend—and he wept. Then Ormsby, his oppressor—the lash—the long weary days of toil and suffering—all these passed before him, and the chords all vibrated to the one touch, and that was freedom. He now went softly to the cabin where Julia
De Clermont, as soon as propriety would permit, began to render his attentions to Julia quite marked. Yet his unprincipled and experienced craftiness prevented him from urging matters with undue and precipitate haste. He knew too well the unfavorable impression which such a course would produce upon her mind. His approaches were therefore made with all the insidious stealthiness of the couchant tiger, who wishes with silent and inaudible tread, to approach within springing distance of his unsuspecting victim. He saw that here was at last an object, and an occasion, worthy of his most consummate efforts; and one also, which would require the adroitest exercise of all his powers of fascination and allurement., He discovered that the part which he would be compelled to play, was that of a virtuous, honorable, and high-minded suitor; for he soon discovered also, that Julia[142] The Planter's Victim and Ellen, or, The Chained Mother