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PAGE 18

The Virginians
by [?]

“I stand by my brother,” said Harry, turning away from the Colonel’s look, and grasping George’s hand. The sadness on their adversary’s face did not depart. “Heaven be good to us! ‘Tis all clear now,” he muttered to himself. “The time to write a few letters, and I am at your service, Mr. Warrington,” he said.

“You have your own pistols at your saddle. I did not ride out with any; but will send Sady back for mine. That will give you time enough, Colonel Washington?”

“Plenty of time, sir.” And each gentleman made the other a low bow, and, putting his arm in his brother’s, George walked away. The Virginian officer looked towards Captain Benson, the master of the tavern, saying, “Captain Benson, you are an old frontier man, and an officer of ours, before you turned farmer and taverner. You will help me in this matter with yonder young gentleman?” said the Colonel.

“I’ll stand by and see fair play, Colonel. I won’t have any hand in it, beyond seeing fair play. You ain’t a-goin’ to be very hard with them poor boys? Though I seen ’em both shoot; the fair one hunts well, as you know, but the old one’s a wonder at an ace of spades.”

“Will you be pleased to send my man with my valise, Captain, into any private room which you can spare me? I must write a few letters before this business comes on. God grant it were well over!” And the Captain led the Colonel into a room of his house where he remained occupied with gloomy preparations for the ensuing meeting. His adversary in the other room also thought fit to make his testamentary dispositions, too, dictated by his own obedient brother and secretary, a grandiloquent letter to his mother, of whom, and by that writing, he took a solemn farewell. She would hardly, he supposed, pursue the scheme which she had in view, after the event of that morning, should he fall, as probably would be the case.

“My dear, dear George, don’t say that!” cried the affrighted secretary.

“As probably will be the case,” George persisted with great majesty. “You know what a good shot Colonel George is, Harry. I, myself, am pretty fair at a mark, and ’tis probable that one or both of us will drop–I scarcely suppose you will carry out the intentions you have at present in view.” This was uttered in a tone of still greater bitterness than George had used even in the previous phrase, and he added in a tone of surprise: “Why, Harry, what have you been writing, and who taught thee to spell?” Harry had written the last words “in view,” in vew, and a great blot of salt water from his honest, boyish eyes may have obliterated some other bad spelling.

“I can’t think about the spelling now, Georgy,” whimpered George’s clerk. “I’m too miserable for that. I begin to think, perhaps, it’s all nonsense; perhaps Colonel George never–“

“Never meant to take possession of Castlewood; never gave himself airs, and patronised us there; never advised my mother to have me flogged; never intended to marry her; never insulted me, and was insulted before the King’s officers; never wrote to his brother to say that we should be the better for his parental authority? The paper is there,” cried the young man, slapping his breast-pocket, “and if anything happens to me, Harry Warrington, you will find it on my corpse!”

“Write, yourself, Georgie, I can’t write,” says Harry, digging his fists into his eyes, and smearing over the whole composition, bad spelling and all, with his elbows.

On this, George, taking another sheet of paper, sat down at his brother’s place, and produced a composition in which he introduced the longest words, the grandest Latin quotations, and the most profound satire of which the youthful scribe was master. He desired that his negro boy, Sady, should be set free; that his “Horace,” a choice of his books, and, if possible, a suitable provision should be made for his affectionate tutor, Mr. Dempster; that his silver fruit-knife, his music-books, and harpischord should be given to little Fannie Mountain; and that his brother should take a lock of his hair, and wear it in memory of his ever fond and faithfully attached George. And he sealed the document with the seal of arms that his grandfather had worn.