Hatchie, the Guardian Slave | Page 6

niece. Might not this circumstance open the way to
the attainment of his grand purpose?
But, while he considers, let us turn our attention to the development of
the history and circumstances of the Dumont family.

CHAPTER II.
"Lorenzo. You loved, and he did love! Mariana. To say he did Were to
affirm what oft his eyes avouched, What many an action testified--and
yet, What wanted confirmation of his tongue."
KNOWLES.
On the right bank of the Mississippi river, a few miles above New
Orleans, was situated the plantation of Colonel Dumont, which he had
chosen to designate by the expressive appellation of "Bellevue;" though,
it would seem, from the level nature of the country, it could not have
been chosen on account of any fitness in the term.
In territorial extent, in the number of slaves employed, and in the
quantity of sugar annually produced, the plantation of Colonel Dumont
was one of the most important on the river. This fact, added to the
possession of immense estates in the city, rendered its owner a man of
no small consequence in the vicinity. But, more than this, Colonel
Dumont was beloved and respected for his many good qualities of
mind and heart. In the late war with England he had served in the army,
and as an officer had won an enviable distinction by his courage and his
talents. Coming unexpectedly into the possession of this estate by the
death of an uncle, he retired, at the close of the war, from a profession
to which a genuine patriotism alone had invited him, and devoted
himself entirely to the improvement of his lands.
Colonel Dumont had been married; but, after a single year of happiness
in the conjugal state, his wife died, leaving him an only daughter in
remembrance of her. This child, at the opening of the tale, was within a
few years of maturity,--the image of her father's only love,--not less fair,
not less pure and good.
Emily Dumont was a beautiful girl, fair as the lily, gentle as the dove.
She was of a medium height, and of slender and graceful form. Her step
was light and elastic, and, if there was any poetry in her light, elegant

form, there was more in her easy, fairy-like motion. Her features were
as daintily moulded as her form. Her eye was light blue, soft, and
beautifully expressive of a pure heart. She was a little paler than the
connoisseur in female loveliness would demand in his ideal, and her
expression was a little inclined to sadness; but it was a sadness--or
rather a sweet dignity--more winning than repulsive to the gazer.
Emily Dumont, highly as fortune had favored her in the bestowal of
worldly goods and personal beauty, was still more blessed in the gifts
of an expansive mind and a gentle heart; and mind and heart had both
been faithfully cultivated by the assiduous care of her devoted father.
She was a true woman,--not a mere plaything to while away a dandy's
idle hours, not a piece of tinsel to adorn the parlor of a nabob, but a true
woman,--one fitted by nature and education to adorn all the varied
scenes of life. Although brought up in unclouded prosperity, amid
luxury and affluence, she was still prepared for the day of adversity, if
it should ever come.
As the heiress of immense wealth, her hand was eagerly sought in the
aristocratic circle around her; but thus far she had resisted all these
attacks upon her heart, and upon her prospective riches. In the crowd of
suitors who gathered around her was Anthony Maxwell. In the item of
wealth his fortune was comparatively small; and in that of a noble
character, smaller still. Emily could have forgiven him the want of the
former, but the latter was imperatively demanded. At the young
lawyer's return from the North, and on his first appearance at the bar,
Emily had regarded him with more than ordinary attention. But, after
the death of his father, the reports which reached her ears of his
dissolute habits and inclinations caused her to regard him with distrust.
His wit, accomplishments and native suavity, had procured him
admission into the circle of her more favored friends. But the report of
his vices had as promptly produced his expulsion.
The return of the army from Mexico brought with it the young officer
whom we have before mentioned. The father of this young man had
been a companion-in-arms of Colonel Dumont, and a strong friendship
had grown up between the veterans. The tie was severed only by the

death of the former, after a life of mercantile misfortunes, and finally of
utter ruin. At the period of the father's insolvency and death, Henry
Carroll, the son, was a cadet at West