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Updated: May 25, 2025
When she reappeared, it was at the adjacent village of Logport, in the capacity of housemaid to a trader's wife, who, joining some little culture to considerable conscientiousness, attempted to instruct her charge. But the Princess proved an unsatisfactory pupil to even so liberal a teacher.
The purser of the occasional steamer which stopped at Logport with the mails reported to have been boarded, just inside the bar, by a strange bearded man, who asked for a newspaper containing the last war telegrams.
From time to time the faint echoes of the Culpeppers' life at Logport reached the upland, and the few neighbors who had only known them by hearsay shook their heads over the extravagance they as yet only knew by report.
Brown endeavored vainly to get a mitigation or suspension of the sentence. But, as on a former occasion, the Princess took matters into her own hands. A few mornings afterwards, a wicker cradle containing an Indian baby was found hanging on the handle of the door of the First Baptist Church. It was the Parthian arrow of the flying Princess. From that day Logport knew her no more.
I think I have already shown enough to indicate the incongruity of her existence with even the low standard of civilization that obtained at Logport in the year 1860. It needed but one more fact to prove the far-sighted poetical sagacity and prophetic ethics of those sincere advocates of extermination, to whose virtues I have done but scant justice in the beginning of this article.
"Wonder ef Guv'nment pays for them frocks the Kernel's girls went cavortin' round Logport in last Sunday they looked like a cirkis." "Like ez not the old Kernel gets it outer contracts one way or another. WE pay for it all the same," he added gloomily. "Jest the same ez if they were MY clothes," said the girl, with a quick, fiery, little laugh, "ain't it?
I'm going over thar to make it all right to free HIM of stealing to have YOU left out of it all and take it all on myself. Don't you be a bit feared for me. I ain't skeert of the wind or of going. I'll close reef everything, clear the creek, stretch across to Injen Island, hugg the Point, and bear up fer Logport.
"Say, Mag, what was that idea o' yours about selling some land, and taking a house at Logport?" Maggie looked up, and said passively, "Oh, THAT idea?" "Yes." "Why?" "Well," said Jim somewhat awkwardly, "it COULD be done, you know. I'm willin'." As she did not immediately reply, he continued uneasily, "Miss Preston says we kin get a nice little house that is near the Fort, until we want to build."
A few sails still gleamed on the waters of the bay; but the advancing fog wiped them out one by one, crept across the steel-blue expanse, swallowed up the white mills and single spire of Logport, and, joining with reinforcements from the marshes, moved solemnly upon the hills.
It was to pay you off for your slanders of my dead father for the selfishness that left me and Jim alone with his dead body on the Marsh. That was what sent me to Logport to get even with you to to fool and flaunt you! There, you have it now! And now that God has punished me for it by crushing my brother you you expect me to let you crush ME too."
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