Fort Lafayette | Page 2

his friend,
for whom horses had been sent to Richmond, to await their arrival at
the depot. So much was she absorbed in revery, that she failed to
observe a solitary horseman who approached from the opposite
direction. He plodded leisurely along until within a few feet of the
wicket, when he quietly drew rein and gazed for a moment in silence
upon the unconscious girl. He was a tall, gaunt man, with stooping
shoulders, angular features, lank, black hair and a sinister expression, in
which cunning and malice combined. He finally urged his horse a step
nearer, and as softly as his rough voice would admit, he bade: "Good
evening, Miss Oriana."
She started, and turned with a suddenness that caused the animal he
rode to swerve. Recovering her composure as suddenly, she slightly
inclined her head and turning from him, proceeded toward the house.
"Stay, Miss Oriana, if you please."
She paused and glanced somewhat haughtily over her shoulder.
"May I speak a word with you?"
"My aunt, sir, is within; if you have business, I will inform her of your
presence."
"My business is with you, Miss Weems," and, dismounting, he passed
through the gate and stepped quickly to her side.
"Why do you avoid me?"
Her dark eye flashed in the twilight, and she drew her slight form up till
it seemed to gain a foot in height.
"We do not seek to enlarge our social circle, Mr. Rawbon. You will
excuse me if I leave you abruptly, but the night dew begins to fall."
She moved on, but he followed and placed his hand gently on her arm.

She shook it off with more of fierceness than dignity, and the man's
eyes fairly sought the ground beneath the glance she gave him.
"You know that I love you," he said, in a hoarse murmur, "and that's
the reason you treat me like a dog."
She turned her back upon him, and walked, as if she heard him not,
along the garden path. His brow darkened, and quickening his pace, he
stepped rudely before her and blocked the way.
"Look you, Miss Weems, you have insulted me with your proud ways
time and time again, and I have borne it tamely, because I loved you,
and because I've sworn that I shall have you. It's that puppy, Harold
Hare, that has stepped in between you and me. Now mark you," and he
raised his finger threateningly, "I won't be so meek with him as I've
been with you."
The girl shuddered slightly, but recovering, walked forward with a step
so stately and commanding, that Rawbon, bold and angry as he was,
involuntarily made way for her, and she sprang up the steps of the
veranda and passed into the hall. He stood gazing after her for a
moment, nervously switching the rosebush at his side with his heavy
horsewhip; then, with a muttered curse, he strode hastily away, and
leaping upon his horse, galloped furiously down the road.
Seth Rawbon was a native of Massachusetts, but for some ten years
previously to the date at which our tale commences, he had been
mostly a resident of Richmond, where his acuteness and active business
habits had enabled him to accumulate an independent fortune. His
wealth and vigorous progressive spirit had given him a certain degree
of influence among the middle classes of the community, but his
uncouth manner, and a suspicion that he was not altogether free from
the degradation of slave-dealing, had, to his great mortification and in
spite of his persistent efforts, excluded him from social intercourse with
the aristocracy of the Old Dominion. He was not a man, however, to
give way to obstacles, and with characteristic vanity and self-reliance,
he had, shortly after her return from school, greatly astonished the
proud Oriana with a bold declaration of love and an offer of his hand

and fortune. Not intimidated by a sharp and decidedly ungracious
refusal, he had at every opportunity advocated his hopeless suit, and
with so much persistence and effrontery, that the object of his
unwelcome passion had been goaded from indifference to repugnance
and absolute loathing. Harold Hare, whose name he had mentioned
with so much bitterness in the course of the interview we have
represented, was a young Rhode Islander, who had, upon her brother's
invitation, sojourned a few weeks at the mansion some six months
previously, while on his way to engage in a surveying expedition in
Western Virginia. He had promised to return in good time, to join
Beverly and his guest, Arthur Wayne, at the close of their academic
labors.
A few moments after Rawbon's angry departure, the family carriage
drove rapidly up to the hall door, and the next instant Beverly was in
his sister's arms, and had