My hat," said Milburn to himself, "is old as yonder town, and better
preserved. The Calverts and Milburns have married into Mrs. Washington's
kin. Does my wife love me?"

CHAPTER XXXIV.

THE ORDEAL.

When Levin Dennis awoke in the bottom of the old wagon it was being
rapidly driven, and Van Dorn's voice from the driver's seat was heard to
say, without its usual lisp and Spanish interjection:

"Whitecar, is your brother at Dover sure of his game?"

"Cock sure, Cap'n. Got 'em tree'd! Best domestic stock in the town thar,
an' the purtiest yaller gals: I know that suits _you_, Cap'n!"

"Have they arms?"

"Not a trigger. We trap 'em at one of their 'festibals.' No, sir,
niggers won't scrimmage."

"We assemble at Devil Jim Clark's," said Van Dorn, and passed by with a
crack of his whip.

Levin, whom some friendly hand had wrapped in a bearskin coat--he had
seen one like it upon Van Dorn--next heard the slaver speak to another
party he had overtaken:

"Melson?"

"Ay yi!"

"Milman?"

"Ah! boy."

"You get your orders at Devil Jim Clark's!"

The stars were out, yet the night was rich in large, fleecy clouds,
as if heaven were hurrying onward too. Levin lay on his back, jostled
by the rough wagon, but, being perfectly sober now, he was more
reasoning and courageous, and his new-found love impelled him to
self-preservation. He might have rolled out of the vehicle and into the
woods, and at least saved himself from committing further crime, but how
would he see Hulda any more--Hulda, in danger, perhaps? Thus, even to
ignorance, love brings understanding, and Levin began to ask himself the
cause of his own misery. He knew it was liquor, yet what made him drink
if not a disposition too easily led? Even now he was under almost
voluntary subjection to the bandit in the wagon, whose voice he heard
blandly command again to some pair he had caught up to:

"Tindel?"

"Tackle 'em, Cap'n Van! Tackle 'em!"

"You are not to be in peril to-night, so keep your spirits. I expect you
to look out for the cords, gags, and fastenings generally!"

"Tackle 'em, Captin; oh, tackle 'em!"

"You and Buck Ransom there--"

"Politely, Captain; politely, sir!" exclaimed an insinuating voice from
a negro rider.

"Are to meet us all at Devil Jim's!"

"Tackle 'em, Captin!"

"Politely, Captain!"

As Van Dorn urged his way to the head of the line, Levin looked out
silently upon the flat country of forest and a few poor far