"Come," said the planter, "come at my house to-night; to-morrow we look
at the place before breakfast, and finish the trade."
"For what?" said Charlie.
"Oh, because I got to come in town in the morning."
"I don't want," said Charlie. "How I'm goin' to come dere?"
"I git you a horse at the liberty stable."
"Well--anyhow--I don't care--I'll go." And they went.
When they had ridden a long time, and were on the road darkened by
hedges of Cherokee rose, the Colonel called behind him to the "low-down"
scion:
"Keep the road, old man."
"Eh?"
"Keep the road."
"Oh, yes; all right; I keep my word; we don't goin' to play no tricks,
eh?"
But the Colonel seemed not to hear. His ungenerous design was beginning
to be hateful to him. Not only old Charlie's unprovoked goodness was
prevailing; the eulogy on Belles Demoiselles had stirred the depths of
an intense love for his beautiful home. True, if he held to it, the
caving of the bank, at its present fearful speed, would let the house
into the river within three months; but were it not better to lose it
so, than sell his birthright? Again,--coming back to the first
thought,--to betray his own blood! It was only Injin Charlie; but had
not the De Charleu blood just spoken out in him? Unconsciously he
groaned.
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