Bond and Free | Page 3

those with, or against, self; when reason, with its firm convictions of right and duty, is set in array against the heart, against its natural tendencies, instinct, or ardent desires; when duty demands the voluntary yielding up of what has grown to be the joy, the hope of life. Alone, with none but the All-seeing one who was near to sustain, Letitia was glad to realize that she had obtained the mastery; that the dreaded words had been spoken, even if they had cut the cord that held the curtain uplifted which now enshrouded her young life like a pall. She was glad to be alone in the contest, to feel that not even her father knew of her first great sacrifice; she determined to maintain her usual cheerful manner, and, after an hour had passed, came out singing,
"Always a maiden, never a wife."
Approaching the house, she met her father riding his favorite horse, "Black Prince;" with an exclamation of surprise she addressed him,
"Please, father, do not go this morning, wait until to-morrow, when you will be better."
"I am better now, darling," he replied; although his pale face did not verify his words. "You remember the advice of our good doctor, and I must be ready, for your sake, if I have not neglected his warning too long already. The cool morning air will invigorate me. Good-bye, my daughter."
With a farewell kiss father and daughter parted, each full of thought, looking forward with the anticipation of accomplishing a large measure of life's work during the day.
Capt. Templeton rode toward the court house, now and then checking his horse to a slow pace, as a sharp pain paled his face, or drew an involuntary groan from his lips. Then, as it passed off, he would hasten, as if his errand could not be delayed; occasionally muttering half aloud, "I must not be too late." Well did he know that a fatal disease was preying upon his heart, as a worm in the core; that vitality was liable to cease at any moment; and that like the apple, he would fall, and earth claim her dust.
Previous to the death of his wife, Capt. Templeton had executed a will; but since that event he felt that it would be well to avoid controversy, or litigation, by giving to his youngest child, Letitia, a deed to the homestead, as well as a document setting her emancipation beyond dispute.
Such papers had been given into the hands of a lawyer, and this was the day appointed for the final signing and sealing.
Upon Letitia devolved the household cares as mistress of a large family of servants, although scarcely nineteen years of age, and with these, after her father's departure, she was soon busily engaged; but an undercurrent of thought and anxiety for her father made the time pass slowly, as the cuckoo from the hall clock announced each passing hour.
When twilight approached she lingered on the veranda, hoping to see his figure, until the servants appeared, returning from work in the fields to their cabins.
Uncle Joe came up to the house; seeing his mistress, he stopped, removed his hat, and bowed.
"Have you seen your master, Uncle Joe?" enquired Letitia.
"No, Miss; but dat's jes w'at I's gwine speak 'bout. I's rollin' logs in de ole dead'nin' 'side de road, fur ter burn to-morrow, Miss, like ole Massa, he tole me fur ter do dis mornin', an' jes' as I an' Tom was hisin' a mighty big log on de pile, who comed 'long side de fence but Maus Hunt's Steve."
"Had Steve seen father, Uncle Joe?"
"Dat's jes what I's gwine speak 'bout, Miss 'Titia. Steve, he beckon' wid 'is head fur me to come to de fence, an' w'en I gets dar, he says, 'You jes go up to de big house, and tell Miss 'Titia as 'ow 'er fader's sick down to de hotel. Tell 'er as how Maus Hunt's dar wid 'im, an' said nobody should come an' tell 'er;' but I know'd I'd jes come dis way w'en he sent me ober to Maus Grigg's wid dis letter; so, Miss 'Titia, I's here."
"Yes, Joe; and we must go to him," were Letitia's composed words, although her heart beat with fear of evil. "Saddle the horses; you must be my escort."
"Yes, Miss; dar dey is; I knowed you'd say so; Tom's bringin' 'em."
The horses appeared, and, within five minutes, Letitia, accompanied by the faithful Joe, was on the way to G--.
Bolstered almost upright in the bed was the form of Capt. Templeton, his head drooping to one side, or moving restlessly against a pillow. The village doctor held his almost pulseless wrist; and opposite sat Mr. Hunt Templeton, half-brother of the dying man, when Letitia entered.
Moving softly to his bed-side, she knelt, clasped her father's hand, and