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Updated: June 12, 2025
Before the evening shadows had greatly lengthened, three figures appeared at the lower end of the approach to Tallwoods mansion house. Jeanne, as usual looking out from their window, saw these. "It is the old man, Madame," she commented. "And yes, Monsieur le Docteur at last thank the Bon Dieu! But one other who is that?"
"Yes, they bring up stories that at one time you and I well, that we were there at Tallwoods. But these wild people here, who shoot, and fight with knives, they are of all peoples in the world the most strict and the most moral, the most abhorrent of what is not their own custom of life. Behold, that droll Mr.
It was to these remote and somewhat singular surroundings that there approached, on the evening of a bland autumn day, along the winding road which followed the little stream, the great coach of the master of Tallwoods, drawn by four blooded carriage horses, weary, mud-stained and flecked with foam.
She was almost disconcerted that the trials of the winter had wrought no greater ravages; but after all, a smile was not absent from her lips. Not abolitionist here in the mirror, but a beautiful young woman. Certainly, whichever or whoever she was, she made a picture fit wholly to fill the eyes of the master of Tallwoods when he came to tell her the coach was ready for the journey to St.
Tallwoods, the home plantation of the Dunwody family in the West, now the personal property of the surviving son, state senator Warville Dunwody of Missouri, presented one of the contrasts which now and again might have been seen in our early western civilization.
Easily visible now against the black background of the night, there showed a flower of light, rising and falling, strengthening. "Drive!" cried Dunwody; and now the sting of the lash urged on the weary team. They swung around the turn of the shut-in, and came at full speed into the approach across the valley. Before them lay the great Tallwoods mansion house.
Mr. Jones was not satisfied. They passed apart, muttering, exclaiming, wondering. An hour later, Tallwoods mansion house was no more. The last of cornice and pillar and corner post and beam had fallen into a smoldering mass. In front of one long window a part of the heavy brick foundation remained. Some bent and warped iron bars appeared across a window.
Bill Jones, in jest perhaps, expressed to others his belief that at one time there was a woman conceal' about this place of Tallwoods! Yes! Madame knows with what ground of justice this was said. Very well! The people took it up. There was comment. There was criticism. These charges became public. It was rumored thus and so in all the district of Mr. Dunwodee. He has fought the duel oh, la, la!
Put down your guns, then. I won't turn any man away, not even an enemy. Have you eaten, gentlemen? Are you rested enough to go to-night?" An hour later clattering hoofs once more resounded along the Tallwoods road. Leaning against the pillar of the gallery, Dunwody watched them all, old friends, late foes, depart. Josephine St. Auban stood not far away.
I can stand it. But you you ought to have ease, luxury, all your life. Now look what you have done!" There came a sudden knock at the door, and without much pause. Hector entered, somewhat excited. "Monsieur, Madame!" he exclaimed. "One comes!" "Who is it?" demanded Dunwody, frowning. "Mon pere! He is come but now from Tallwoods, Monsieur." "What is wrong out there? Tell him to come in." "I go."
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