Richmond. Mr. Cartwright was present
at this dinner; so was Judge Griffin; so
was Dr. Simpson, the brother of the magnetic
young lady; so were other of John
Ackland's fellow-guests at Glenoak.

The dinner was a Union dinner, the
speeches were Union speeches, the event
celebrated was the triumph of Union sentiment
in harmony with Southern supremacy.
After the great political guns had fired
themselves off, the ladies were "admitted
from behind the screen," toasts of gallantry
and personal compliment were proposed,
and the minor orators obtained a hearing.
None of these was more voluble than Mr.
Cartwright. He rose to propose a toast.
The toast was a Union toast, for it united
the absent with the present. He would
invite the company to drink to the health
of " Our absent friends."

At this moment Mr. Cartwright was
disagreeably interrupted by a bustle and
buzz of voices among the sable attendants
at the door. " Order! order!" cried Judge
Griffin, indignantly looking round.

"Please, Massa Judge," cried one burly
nigger, bolder than his fellows, "Massa
Ackland he be in de next room, and want
to speak bery 'tic'lar with Massa Cartwright."

"By Jove, Cartwright! do you hear
that?'' exclaimed the judge. " What,
Ackland? John Ackland?"

"Yessir. Massa John Ackland he be in
a bustin' big hurry, and waitin' to see
Massa Cartwright bery 'tic'lar."

"Why not call him in?" suggested the
judge. " Every one will be happy to see
him, after all the trouble he has cost some
of us.''

"No, no," cried Cartwright, much overcome
by the surprise. "Gentlemen, I will
not detain you longer. To our absent
friends! And now," he added, emptying
his bumper with an unsteady hand, "I am
sure you will all excuse me, since it seems
that one of my absent friends is waiting to
see me."

CHAPTER VIII.

MR. CARTWRIGHT hurried to the door, and
next moment found himself face to face:
not with Mr. John, but with Mr. John's
cousin Tom, Ackland.

Mr. Tom Ackland introduced himself:
"My excuse," said he, "is, that I am
only at Richmond for a few hours, on my
way to Charleston, and that, accidentally
hearing from one of the helps here that
you happened to be in the hotel, I was
anxious to ask you whether you had lately
heard from my cousin, or received any
news of him from Charleston?"

"None," said Cartwright. "I trust
there is nothing the matter?"

"You have not even seen his name
mentioned in the newspapers?"

"No."

"Yet I presume a paragraph I have here
from a Boston paper, must also have
appeared in the Richmond journals. Pray
be so good as to look at it."

The paragraph ran thus:

"The following has appeared in the
Charleston Messenger of October 18th.
On the 16th instant, about two hours after
sundown, a Spanish gentleman, who
happened to be walking towards Charleston
along the right bank of Cooper River,
was startled by what he believed to be
the sound of a human voice speaking
in loud tones. The voice apparently
proceeded from the same side of the river as
that along which he was walking, and not
many yards in advance of him. As the
night was already dark, he was unable to
distinguish any object not immediately
before him, and, as he was but imperfectly
acquainted with the English tongue, he
was also unable to understand what the
voice was saying. He was, however, so
strongly under the impression that the
voice was that of a person addressing a
large audience in animated tones, that he
fully believed himself to be in the immediate
vicinity of a camp meeting, or other
similar assemblage, and was somewhat
surprised to perceive no lights along that part
of the bank from which the voice apparently
proceeded. Whilst he was yet
listening to it, the voice suddenly ceased,
and was succeeded by the sound of a loud
splash, as of some heavy body falling into
the water. On hastening to the spot from
which he supposed these sounds to have
arisen, he was still more surprised to find
it deserted. On examining the ground,
however, as well as he could by the
light of a few matches which he happened
to have with him, he discovered two
pieces of property, a hat and a book, but
nothing which indicated the owner of them,
and no trace of any struggle which could
lead him to suppose that their unknown
owner had been deprived of them by violence.
After shouting in every direction,
without obtaining any answer, this gentleman
then took possession of the hat and
book, and, on returning to Charleston,
deposited them, with the foregoing explanation
of the manner in which he had