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He looked earnestly and long in the direction of the dead man's head, as if in meditation on its owner's untimely fate, or, possibly, on the unusual length and solidity of the shadow that tailed away from it! Fortunately he advanced no further, but, turning on his heel, walked slowly away.
That has done us too good service already to-day." "I've made something out of it, anyway," said Andy, displaying the pistol, which was silver-mounted, and altogether a very pretty weapon. "It's a regular beauty," he said, with admiration. "It will be better in your hands than in the real owner's," said Colonel Preston. By this time Andy was in the chaise, rapidly nearing the village.
"Would you rather," said I, "have your daughter a servant in a Southern family, brought up as a playmate with the children, a sharer in many of their gifts, a partner with their parents, as the children grew up, in the pride and joy of the parents, an honored member of the wedding party when a daughter is married, one of the principal mourners when the bride departs, identified with the history of the family, provided for in the will, a support guaranteed to her by law in sickness and old age, and that, too, not in a pauper establishment, but in her owner's home, and when the parents die, if she survives, taken by some branch of the family or neighbor from regard to her and to them; her moral and religious character improved under their training, a respectable standing in society conferred upon her by her connection with them, her religious privileges sacredly secured to her, any insult redressed as though it were the family's personal affair; she a partaker of their food and of all their comforts, and followed to her grave with respect and love; or, for the sake of 'priceless liberty, 'heaven's best gift to man, would you prefer to see her seated under the iron fence of a park, an old umbrella tied to the pickets for her shelter, and she, in rain and sunshine, selling 'Old Dan Tucker, 'Jim Crow, Illustrated, and pea-nuts, and sleeping you know not where?
This large fortune for those days did not include his wife's estate, or the Mount Vernon property, which he inherited from his brother. He was the richest American of his time. His management of the Mount Vernon estate would make of itself an interesting and instructive book. Of the eight thousand acres, nearly one half was under cultivation during the last part of its owner's life.
He replaced the letters in their enclosure held a general consultation, into which he threw a passing gleam of faint gaiety, as to whether being ours we had a right to burn them, or whether having passed through the post-office they were not the writer's but the owner's property, and Guy could claim them, with all their useless news, on his arrival in England.
But he had not imagined the miracle to take the form of Jersey cows, and he began to wonder dolefully what newfangled notions about machinery and manure might not also be hatching in the young owner's brain. They mounted in silence the steepest slope of the rolling land and came to a stone hedge on which John-James leant, Ishmael beside him.
See, here engraved upon the lid is the owner's name and the circumstance of his having saved my own poor life. It was that first called my attention to it, for I well recollect how my father compelled me to present it to my savior. How came it into your possession, and why have you hidden it away so carefully for all this while?
"Somebody has learned of the low state of the Cardigan fortune," he mused, "and taken advantage of it to induce the old man to sell at last. They're figuring on selling to me at a neat profit. And I certainly did overplay my hand last night. However, there's nothing to do now except sit tight and wait for the new owner's next move."
The "silver rifle," as Dick's weapon had come to be named, was well known among the hunters and the Redskins of the border-lands, and in Dick's hands its bullets were as deadly as its owner's eye was quick and true. Crusoe's education, too, had been completed. Faithfully and patiently had his young master trained his mind, until he fitted him to be a meet companion in the hunt.
On the brown stallion ambling peacefully yonder there might go the warring of the gods for two or ten thousand years; this mare with the dainty pace and the vicious eye might be sidling under a load of oaken odes in honour of her owner's family, with a few bundles of tales of wonder added in case they might be useful; and perhaps the restive piebald was backing the history of Ireland into a ditch.
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