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His young master gave him his freedom in recognition for his bravery and supported him in comfort the rest of his life." In Clark County are many small negroe settlements formed by the old freed slaves after the war. Some had accumalated a little and brought a small piece of land and others had homes given to them by their owners. Mr. Archilles Eubank was the largest slave holder of his day, Mr.
"It means that we have got your fine son-in-law!" the other retorted with venom. "And we are going to keep him. So your distance, if you please. I know you of old, and if you come within a yard of me I will put a ball into you. Now mark that!" "You have got him?" said Hunt, restraining himself with difficulty. "Where?" "They are bringing him," Eubank answered. "You will see him soon enough."
On a sudden she rose as if she must speak or choke. "Mr. Eubank," she cried, "you are here to hunt down Mr. Fayle! You think that he is in my room! My room! I read it in your eyes, you cur! You traitor!" "Hush!" Hunt said in warning. This was no open fight such as he had dared a score of times; and the malice in the man's face frightened him.
The smuggler, on the impulse of the moment, had gone near to striking him down; in face of the pistol and common-sense he lowered his hand, cursed him, and bade him keep his distance for the cur he was; and so with the width of the track between them the two rode on, like dogs ill-coupled, Eubank keeping a squinting watch on Hunt's movements, Hunt with his face hard set, and a gleam of fear in his eyes.
"Softly, softly, Mr. Hunt," Eubank answered, his face a shade paler. "You know what I mean. There was a name wanting in your evidence in your deposition. A name lacking, d'ye take me?" "A name?" "Ay, Mr. Fayle's. And Mr. Fayle is missing, too. But I don't think," the apothecary continued cunningly, his eyes gazing far apart, "that he is in France. I think that he is nearer Romney.
He knew that in the search which had attended his arrest the premises had been ransacked from roof to cellar; that every locker and hiding-place had been laid open and discovered; and that apart from this Eubank, who had played jackal in many of his adventures, was familiar with all, even the most secret. Where, then, was Fayle? He learned only too soon.
For one thing, the girl sought no private word with him, was obtrusively public, and once gripped the nettle danger in a way that startled him. It was at the evening meal. Eubank, ill at ease and suspicious, was stealing glances this way and that, his one eye on the settle that screened the entrance, the other on the staircase door that led to the upper floor.
Hunt grunted, and wondered how long that had been so; for New Romney, where the apothecary lived, lay to the right. But he said nothing. "They have quartered three soldiers on you," Eubank continued, squinting out of the corner of one eye to mark the effect of his words, "and an officer." The smuggler checked his horse. "As if I had not done enough for them!" he cried bitterly.
She was there, and in a moment the meeting so long and tenderly anticipated was over, and the girl, gently disengaging herself with wet cheeks from his arms, turned to his companion. "You may go, Mr. Eubank," she said austerely. "We do not need you. My father is at home now." But the apothecary, cringing and smiling, faltered that he was that he was coming to the house.
And that is why they have quartered three soldiers on you." "You villain!" Hunt cried, his voice shaking with passion. "This is your work." And he raised his heavy riding-whip, and made as if he would ride the other down. The two were alone on the marsh. But quick as thought Eubank lugged a pistol from his holster and levelled it. "Softly, Mr. Hunt," he said. "Softly!
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