colonel's daughter--neither one. Nor does Dick Darke
suppose it either. Though seen indistinctly under the shadow of the
trees, he identifies the approaching form as that of Julia--a mulatto
maiden, whose special duty it is to attend upon the young ladies of the
Armstrong family, "Thank God for the devil's luck!" he mutters, on
making her out. "It's Jupiter's sweetheart; his Juno or Leda,
yellow-hided as himself. _No_ doubt she's on her way to keep an
appointment with him? No more, that I shall be present at the
interview. Two hundred dollars reward for old Jupe, and the fun of
giving the damned nigger a good `lamming,' once I lay hand on him. Keep
on, Jule, girl! You'll track him up for me, better than the sharpest
scented hound in my kennel."

While making this soliloquy, the speaker withdraws himself behind a
bush; and, concealed by its dense foliage, keeps his eye on the mulatto
wench, still wending her way through the thick standing tree trunks.

As there is no path, and the girl is evidently going by stealth, he has
reason to believe she is on the errand conjectured.

Indeed he can have no doubt about her being on the way to an interview
with Jupiter; and he is now good as certain of soon discovering, and
securing, the runaway who has so long contrived to elude him.

After the girl has passed the place of his concealment--which she very
soon does--he slips out from behind the bush, and follows her with
stealthy tread, still taking care to keep cover between them.

Not long before she comes to a stop; under a grand magnolia, whose
spreading branches, with their large laurel like leaves, shadow a vast
circumference of ground.

Darke, who has again taken stand behind a fallen tree, where he has a
full view of her movements, watches them with eager eyes. Two hundred
dollars at stake--two hundred on his own account--fifteen hundred for
his father--Jupe's market value--no wonder at his being all eyes, all
ears, on the alert!

What is his astonishment, at seeing the girl take a letter from her
pocket, and, standing on tiptoe, drop it into a knot-hole in the
magnolia!

This done, she turns shoulder towards the tree; and, without staying
longer under its shadow, glides back along the path by which she has
come--evidently going home again!

The negro-catcher is not only surprised, but greatly chagrined. He has
experienced a double disappointment--the anticipation of earning two
hundred dollars, and giv