r.
Rainsfield; who, they understood, was engaged with some person, Mr.
Billing had sent word to say, had been waiting to see him.

CHAPTER XIV.

"Nature, indeed, denies them sense,
But gives them legs and impudence,
That beats all understanding."

WILLIAMS.

When the black boy, whom John Ferguson had named Billy, was released by
his captors, after the castigation we have seen him subjected to by
Rainsfield and Smithers, he made the best of his way to Fern Vale; and
there, with his bleeding back substantiating his statement, told his
tale of woe. John and his friend Tom Rainsfield could hardly credit
their sight; the latter especially, who could not think but that if his
brother had any hand in the barbarity it must have been as a passive
instrument at the disposal of Smithers. The young men felt for the poor
aboriginal, and in their sympathy tended his wounds and gave him what
assistance they could. With the black the injury sank deep into his
heart; savage as he was he felt the ignominy of his treatment; and he
cherished that feeling of deep revenge which is innate in the natures of
all God's creatures, but especially in those, who like the savage, have
never had an ethic inculcation to restrain their passions. He gave vent
to his agony, as he lay prostrate on his pallet, in wails of anguish and
vituperative mutterings; uttered in the unintelligibleness of his own
language.

After the subsiding of the first surprise and indignation the agitation
of his own thoughts too much occupied John's mind to admit of his being
much diverted by the sorrows of his black boy; and Tom was too much
affected by the dejectedness of his friend to entertain any lasting
concern for the sable sufferer. As he sat ruminating on the incidents
of the day, until he fell into a reverie almost as deep as one of those
indulged in by his companion, he roused himself by uttering the
following exordium: "Cheer up, John, my dear fellow; don't permit
yourself to feel disappointed, for I am sure from the glimpse Eleanor
has had to-day of Smithers' real nature she cannot entertain any respect
for him; and, as for her ridiculous persistence in binding herself to a
foolish engagement, I have no doubt she will now see the necessity of
abandoning it."

"My dear Tom," replied the other, "I cannot consent to oppose the claims
of Bob Smithers so long as Eleanor herself holds them sacred. She
admitte