ed,
and from that day he was his brother's enemy. Jaspar's business was
gone, and he never allowed his spirit of revenge even to interfere with
his interest; so he availed himself of his brother's offer.
Colonel Dumont trusted much to the gentle influence of his family circle
to soften Jaspar's moroseness, and infuse some principle of charity and
love. But these anticipations proved vain. He was cold and taciturn.
Business alone could call forth the display of his energy, of which he
was possessed of a liberal share. The society of Emily and other ladies
he seemed to shun. The gentle influence of domestic life seemed entirely
wasted upon him. Colonel Dumont was forced to believe his brother a
misanthrope, and no longer strove to soften his character. Emily
regarded his coldness as his natural manner, and left him to the full
enjoyment of his eccentricity. Between persons of such opposite
dispositions there could be, of course, but little sympathy, and that
little was entirely upon one side.
The demon of Jaspar's nature displayed itself in the cane-field and in
the sugar-house, which Colonel Dumont rarely visited, having intrusted
the entire management of the estate to him, his own attention being
occupied by the exterior business of the plantation, and by his city
possessions. The poor negro, who was compelled to submit to cruel usage
and short fare, knew Jaspar's nature better than uncle or niece. His
advent among them had been the era from which they dated the life of
misery they led--a life so different from that they had been accustomed
to under the superintendence of the more Christian brother.
Jaspar Dumont managed the "negro stock" in the true spirit of a demon,
and as such the "hands" learned to regard him. Runaways, which, under
the mild management of his brother, were rarely known, were common now;
and almost the only amusement Jaspar knew was to hunt them down with
rifle and bloodhound.
This state of things Colonel Dumont saw, but he did not appreciate the
reason of it. Himself a rigid disciplinarian, he wished not to
interfere, though the cruelty of Jaspar pained his heart. His failing
health had latterly withdrawn his attention still more from the
plantation, and Jaspar drew the reins the tighter when he saw that the
humane eye was removed from him.
Such was Jaspar Dumont, whom we left in Maxwell's office at the close of
our first chapter.
On the day succeeding the departure of Henry Carroll, C
|