North Carolina Newspapers

: A: . v n. h vr -1 E vN V. H H 1 "Ml WILLIAM D. COOKE, ) PROPRIETOR. ) O INDEPENDEIT FAMILY NEWSPAPER. , TERMS, v TWO IJLLABS FEE ANSiCM Betotrif to all ti)e 3n tests of Eije Soutf), Cttewtow, trite1 rtiou, mttlta, ftos, tfjc iWmfccts, VOL IV. -NO. 42. RALEIGH, NORTH CAROLINA, SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 8, 1855 WHOLE NO. 198 of SELECT POETRY.' A SUMMER EVENING. . 'Tis eve, the sun behind the hill Has h-id his glorious face.; The lowering clouds, now seem set out Upon, a general race.- . Lo.ud peals of deafening thunder strike -Upon the listening, ear Man recollects his God the while His conscience too, with tear. A .ijiL-ml a .-ho .-.ter wal -J( Fro:n yonder teeming cloud, '. 'Twill soon rush on with rapid speed, . With torrents roaring loud. A solitary star peeps out, Above a dripping cloud, . That's stationed in the western sky, Hard by a flying clowd. The rain in torrents now comes down-- : It taps the window pane Th v.T.vii.g boug'i, it well nigh breaks 'lis pelting h, 11 and plain. . - 'Tis quiet now, the rain ha- evaded, " ' On come the shades of niu'ii! Bright Cynthia, now inner 5 her face, ad sends forth silver1 U.tt- .MALv.XA DONALD. Mount Pleasant, Puplin l'-. SELECTED STORY. THEKUBY CROSS; OK j.EXLDlCT AUN( d.b'S AMULET. Ill' MAKV W. J AN VI X. Latge- constellations 'burning, mellow moon ami . .' . .-ofter -ktes. ' ' ' . Bre;.uhs of tropic j ahivs in cluster, knots of Paia .' " disc ; I I.i'ntrs the ; iieav y-Uos-omed, bower, droops heavy . fruited tree, gambler Ules ot Eden, lying in dark purple depth of s a Texnysox. Willi eager, .-impetuous footsteps, Benedict Ari:i'!tl .paced the white s-a strand of a 'plaint, st'iang-. old West Indian town,- whose un ique ..M,. r;-h heai-scs, with their pillared balconies, their arabesque work, their open courts and sparkling fountains, give to it su.-li a .foreign look, and -that air. of rom.,uee so peculiar to ; f'Wiuash t'ijtes-r-M Idle lk. jay, anchor-. ed in- the" bllue, waters of tke harb r of Havana. i For Benidivt't Ain ld, in his youth, was it V- iiieivitant, trading to the West Indies, and com 1 tir.u !e i hU ou ve-sei the little sloop which rtiij ii, wi !i s-iowy utat aud tap -ring sp.irs, clear- ' iv ieJiiicd against the blue skv, lav like a thing .; of -bi-auty, idle and motionless, en the waves. I . This was not his lirst trip to the tropics; ma ny a time ere this his vessel had plowed1 the iwrt;e!S or' i he Atlantic to those islands which lie J:ke eius 1 f beauty upon the "ocean's breast, ;;-iii: -!st the fron;iig battlements of Mi 10 : t'!t.-e, -iiii(l r !e -gadautiv into the harbor of Havana, but it was to be his !;ust one; f T al- ready had the dilucul ks ar.sen between Ids natne land aiid the in h. r ei.untry there was a call for "America's brave s ,ns, tMerv drop of the tint uned hi .0 i , f y.,u h in A:n.dd's '. veins wasT roused at the tjumpet t.-ne of war. or wa; it t! ft love ot e nti'iv J,,n.. u-i.i..). . . , ,. , . liiqicded luiii . to return and enlist under tree- 1 , . , ' , , , . . , , , ' .1 " - " n 1 v. t 1 uoins oanuers, oiii in..t iieree, uuque ociiaDi - pa- i s:o:i for exeitemei-.t which eharae:etize 1 his l,fe from ehildh iud. wi.ich m ide him, in boyhood, ! ." a rover to the Bn.isii camp, then .as hastily j Lr.ii.iT'it iiini lioin a r.iin ent him tci t'n- trrri- I - 3 ' l .c as a niercna it, where lie won great wea ere lie won ureal wea. h. an I in .'ifver I fe uuparadeled braveiy whi. h di : tn giiisaed him on the battle fields of his cou 1 tiy. " . -.'".-" 1' it whv, as- the first faint notes of war, borne over the. waters, f.-li up n Bei-.e-!:et A n..u 1 s etir, amt.l the luxuriance ot thu.-e Vv est t, i- ",. ., , t , '.India is .1.1 . 11 nrir t iihiv ' 'W ,v .On 1.. good Vatp lie idle, with fit-led sail and droopiuf ! petinon, in t L- 'harb r ot 'Havana . . All, there was a struggle going on in his heart Wuveen :,is newly ar u-ed feeling of pa ttiotisui an ! .lr;-ni lit and :n ,t',. r -m.l t..n. ..; a.jHinmeaul . IV. Benedict Arnold was i rev. a eg ur th.- first dove dream of his Vouth. . ! . : t i , . . - i - -. j- upon the water- of the harl or : whv, dav after l : i . ii . , " . " . -vii.i i..i, was wnv n:s s-oei- av motion es v v hin ino.v was st.ii lanii' .. nv ir..t.iea rs: 1 7 , at r.iiihtfall, impatlentiv watchin-T t h . ,:.... i .. , i. - i , .41. ... tu ean n-aa :tuo the mrtve I W' 'sxn: waves, he" ha Utelnte- sea strand. Ufir. waves, he hastil v. strode to and fro nn I And when the evening gun oooined fr. -m 1 io Ca tle.'he dre ht little skiff front the 'vei. cove wh :re it 1 iv shelf-red, and. with a tev of l' 'id. igoious dahesd the oar, pushed out harbor. T ,:. ..-' .vi i it . -i in..- was the hour when he k-it trvst with tiie-t-t.M-ivtd one", with her who-e dark Smnish i .ve had 'burned their wav into his h-art : whose tetid-r love, w r ls aud c ircss. s woke in nil its fc O'v hts own peculiarly ardent s -uthei n tem v lauiont. . But ewn this. bo'.I, detenuin-.-d man, loving as he al.-i. i t n. tnouslv and sir.-.ivlv. eotild iai h.ngeH;-.!ger there : .eveii: his first love dream had no p,,wer to bind h'malav-; he w.s n.. I - " " - - mtrn to louerriu- his la lv's bower, while that .ower, brave -hear waning f ,r the ru-h of war an the glory T.'f co iq, -..l,,lt VAvn hisdireast. And that d -,y he La .;. "Oue more meetiti- i st j ; m th sh-id.-ia of the. old -doonsh garden ; on.- last . - - t ki-s un..n Inez elas- fiUt-Z s siv.it Ii. i .... !. .. v - .-",i.)au.i men i mast awav. Vhat Beuediet Arnold's nurnose for life he scarce knew then; but with the ut.e idea of change, of excitement, he had exclaimed: " I will no longer tarry here. The dream is sweet, passing sweet, but it must be broken." And so on, oii, out of the harbor he pushed, with hasty oar dashes the vigorous beat of the oars, the hasty strokes of his athletic arm, types of his whole life, impetuous, daring, free, aud spurning control. Once out on the bay, his skiff sailed rapidly ou close to t ie shore, whererailing vines, from the luxuriant gardens lining t.he water's edg dipped down into the tide. From the very laargi:. 01 the bay rose r dense, tangled mass of rich vegetable life, vary ing in every shade of gold and green and crim son, the rank growth of the luxuriant soil, r Forth from the matted vines gleamed mag nificent bjossoms, swaying up and down on their longS pensde stems, like gorgeous, flame winged birds flitting to and fro ; bri?ht cr'm sou petals, loosened from rip ned cdixe.-, ie.l here and there about his b :it upon the sea long feathery sprays plumed and nodded in the 'balmy -air; iinhel, ii was a perfect 'wilderness of green and bloom, au intoxicating atmosphere of odors. O, these warm Y. st Julian isles, the Eden of the world, lying . in " d-.i k purple depihs of sea i How Benedict Arno'd's trop:c heart reveled in the intoxicating richness everywhere about I loin ' And could he leave this magic clime, the sparkling water-, and the -gleaming couste'Ha tious wlrch wa ki d t i l 1 5 in.o the d.-ej) nighf skies with a sjloi v unknown to his na ive uorth- em land ' and above II, could he.' gaze no more-upon tho-e -v. s which boauivd 6u- bright- er than -the starlight for h;m v - Yes, ves-; his ivs.ilve was iiuchaiio-eable ; he must go henc, Wjiat wi.l not a' jroud, am-' bitious man do, and dare, and Miffer for Lis own au'grandiitoHiHijt.! ' And .--till on i e rowed, ovr waters xlr.rkt n ing iiit a de -p-.-r p.nrpk- in the shades uf g..tii ering night uu ler the n -i-iltieeut blaze of that, southern st:ii'iiht. a Marljght so like day. And stdi the' h'Hg ines ;uid green mosses t ailed down into the water; and ih ating .out seaward, .-oum winds teplete with odors almost sickening in their sweetness ; still .oil his head riiied showers v-f cii!sn and snowy .petals; aud oil, on,, he wail pa t .s:o.- ot be-u.ty, w hich seemed m.ire like'gj.mpsea of fairy laud thitu any reality on eartli Adi hour had elapsed Auce the rover left the .haibor, mih the f.t.l blaze 'bf a ftopio n'ght lay over laud and ? a. 14 A glorious lan 1 a magic cf;uie ! But ill's hot blood in my veins mi. situ; doled in north ern a:r-, ere l i:g." murmur, d Arnold. ' as I e drew Ins skiff assu re at an opening, . beyond whose vista, of arching vines nrght be caught glimpses of the w iiit" w ails of a vida, and stood for a moment with bar-vd head b neath the starlight,- - " A glorious land to live, and .h e m.imd love i 1 ; but such a lite would kih me. 1 nni-t h .ve action, the .-teruer strife, the. c nii at."' h: e c'aimed, as he parted tin- iu.s stifle up a flight of m irb.e steps, ai d cut . -red the' now.. :y w :tlan-.-ss beyond. (,; , l.t t'l . 11. 1 l,f here, ueatn the orirut stai u-jjnt, ci-'amea tue Aj? ., . ,, . , , - wmie wads t an old Moorh mansion bu it around an open, paved court, wh.-re a fountain play-.-d and shimmered hke sisver in the star-.igi-tt. 1 V- : There, in a quaint-lo-dc'u ' o'd ' trarj.-n. with : f. 1...... 1 ...... . n , ; . . . 1 wile iv tlnj st-neiy pa:m rea.'.d its tu-tted coronal hi ;u aioe an ..he: tr.e-, where the scarlet j pomegranate tossed h -ee -ned b'o-soms on ;h .air,. liH-i the fi:st love dieain .f l -en- iliet Arnold's ' j life begun ; and th- r- too. w re his " I'J', (!,.. i,;.,:.t ...-...t- ,1.. ..... ! ; .-. j .1 : i . . ! li;ere. too, it dsed: bu. in a.tc-r Tears, when . ' j the flush of glorv was won Inside" the watch fires of Quebec, iti the ru.-ii of the battle, and the stillness of the cairn nigli:-tide, did no mem ory i f that trustii g Spanish gi;l. who had iaV-i-hed her love on the gay, gall. mU. and chival ric yo.tug Amrrioim come to his heart? of the gill who came there f tweet him under the j starlight, who cii- d, " . lo not go V as stand ing there be.--i.le h -r, amid her caresses and her tears, he said, " Inez. I must depart," Xav, Inez, beloved," h- wdiisiered ten !et - ! Iv, " nay it mtt-t be so. My country lias need of all her soiis to aid m her strugg-es, but wheu the victory is won.'theu w i.l I come b ;ek to l-.'ve thee." . Anl there, i i that hour-, Beiiedier. Arnold me .nt v. htr he utl-r- d. In li s youthful Ioe dream, thai bold -man w-is it- arer the kk gdom of h,.av, n th ,n he ever was again. Had he ."ke:-t tn.-. t ;)ti, ii,- l.i.a'i-'eil : ;uul te g ue o ick to I 1 I ' ' 1 ' ....... ,11. I 1 . i i . , . i ... . t s : . .. . '.r , a:-. a m n vi when tue oatLie-oi iu eoun- I U "K v.-oii : had he never woven f'T hni.se t -e!ie e.e- of aggrandizement and ambition he had b.-; n -pir. d the name of a " traitor.'' But the o: e of Id- mad, unquiet spirit, was s rorger far than that of affection ; he crushed -iown ail such ttiought-, and s-.id firmly, though ' "' .' ' Yet eo this he went forth from her ore-et ee dou-'. er, Inez Velas quez hal ntmg about his . iieek a slight golden eiiaiu of antique. " but ex .q ii-it-.- workmansliip, from which hung suspen ded a blood -rei cross, cut from the sparklino ru' -y stone. '" ear this when you fight your country's (allies, she ciu-d. " Wear it next to vour i heart : 'twill -ruard you from harm. It w.n" I gift t-J my tire by Granada's sovereign iu his native Spain. He has often worn it in the fray of w ar, and it proved a talisman to guard him. When the ruby gleams red as blood, safety fol lows thy steps ; but if it pales, then beware, for danger is nigh thee. Wear it for my sake ; and looking upon it, remember Inez." And this blood-red ruby cross, henceforth to be worn next to his heart, was Benedict Arnold's talisman his charm his amulet. CHAPTER II. And a voice was poured on the free winds far, And the land rose up at the sign of war. Mas. Hemans. 0, Fame ! Fame ! Fame ! next grandest word to "God. Alexander Smith. Years, thick, crowding, and full of strange, gallant, daring deeds, unknown before in the word's history, went by. An infan-t pr-ople had thrown off thHr shack!-s, aud proudly taken a place among the nations uf the earth. There were brave words thiilling thousands of stout American heart-, spoken ill Congress; there were tales of war and victory repeated over at nightfa'l bedde every hearthstone. in the luif.I ; there were battles au,d the flush of con quest. ' ' But all, the picture lias a darker side ! There were sufferings which had no parallel in the people's anna's. An army of men re solve. to " fight to ihe death," lay at Valley Forg', almost naked and starving, in the dead of a severe winter. Mothers gi de l the sword to their sons' braat, and s nt them f ith to the b ittle field a ' (Jod spe.-dv on their lips. But over all these ti'eo.hg sol i. rs the e.-igle -spiii. of a hrave man h."l sway; thioug.i all the toil and uio.-d-het ot tue agiit years war his eagle saw the future -glorious lie.-tiny of his country. And he of the e.ngle sp rit and c. e, w .s that gieat, good man, i.-org- Washington ; and be M-le him, sustaining and helping him in his ar duous tods, were biave aud gdlunt aids, foie ui' si among whoi'n t-;od l-nedict A 111. -Id. And in th.oe years ot peril and struggles, by deeds ..f gallant daring, his star attained its ze tilth. Certainly if ever 11411 w.-n glory by toil aud bravery, that man was At uold. Through the dark pine f iv.-ts of Ma:ne, with h's band of iron men, through the d. ep wi?dT iies.ses shrou te l in tnows, aeio-s rivers, cold darkafid turbid, d.-wu steeps and lapids, and !)enef?;itiug te taigledv,vnb'-ok!, fatn!.-se -f an untrodden rgioti, had he ae... i.-.,.-; eii a perilous j-jurney. Ami ttieii, when keeping guard by the watch fires without the city on the heights of Quebec, in the keen, piercing cold of a Canadian winter, on the victorious battle plaiu, the gallant deeds of this brave man at t-sled that the tide of p:i triotism ran strong w ithin ids veins. And ufteiwa'd, at Saratog-i, wh.-re hi good right arm turned the tide of battle and won the victory at the glorious .-ea lig'.t f Lake 0;;a 11 plain, wh re he wasat otice heio a id genera Am -iiea hai u'o m od of moie triug men l- ! light, her batt'es that: the sum B -I). diet Aruolrh For then, w "ipe aw..y, tnat f ui sia i, w hieti 110 hand can had no: selth d -lowii. down like cloud of blackue.-s, upon his i;am- Nv. thank iod, there were years whea he was no traitor To his after life belong- this foul deed. Let us not talk of it now only -f his gi"ry. Time ! was whin no truer, jn-ne patriotic heart beat in an American bosoin-thau hi-. Who, looking down the :i:n vi-ta f the fu t.re, would, have said: '"Tiiis man will betray his coutitry ?" That man of foresight and prudence. Gcoiire Washington, did not look for u h tretison wheti, i in a letter lo Coiigie-s, lecouamcaditig t'sat Ar I n -id should be sent to tlfe northern uimv, he ; -wrote : : " He is active, judicious and brave, and an offi 1 .er in whom the Tniiitia will rep--se giettt confi Idence." Arnold himself knew not io what depths he I should fall, when gilled by the tardh-ess of his 1 ctmntrv iu c uferring the rank upon him he had so fuilv earn-u, he re-igued his comtni-siou with I these proud words : ; I am ready 10 rik my Itfe for my country; but honor is-a sacrifice that no man ought to O, ii-) ; hi- star, which had risen so brightly at Ticondetoga and Quebec, which had culminated at Saratog.i had not b gun to slope down the skv of honor, when, da- ! it was a star u more, but a brilliant meteor flashing down a darkening sky a Hazing thip, " w.th brokeu masts di.s- j mantled a.-1," a drift, and gotf.ig down in a black, ! midnight sea. - I There were five long years of g'ory granted to B-.nednt Arnold .iv ye.;i-, wherein- he w rote tt.e record ot ..azznng uee is upon the scroll of fame fi-.e years wheiv ti his heart, waun and vie d ng as the fresh molten lava, had no ti.ne to cool an i h irden, and become like iron in the tcoricc of pride aud revenge, which alter watds encrusted it. i ; And in those fi.e years of glory, wheth r on i la-id or sea. amid the burning heat- of a south- ein summer, or the rigors of a northern winter, j he never once quailed before the foe. j And even then, iu the toilsome march through i the w ilderuess, ou the snow crow' ned heights of ! Quei-ec, at Saratoga, Uanbury, and Champlain, i in conquest and iu glory, still that blood-red cross hal never dimmed, butjay like a sentinel I of fire, Tuardin ' his heart that heart which. amid its dreams of glory, had well mgh forgot ten the giver of this ruby amulet sweet Inez Velasquez. CHAPTER III. I kept my course through past ingratitude ; I saw Could not but see those insults as they fell. BbowSing. His scorn is lying on my heart like snow, My eyes are weary and I fata would sleep ;' The quietest sleep is underneath the ground. '.ALEXASDEtt Smith. 1 here came a time whan, deny it as w j may, J r, 1 . . . l' xl , , e .! jjeueuiCL Aruuiu reueivcu jujui y iue iianus 01 the country, he had sa faithfully served. AVe safr fhi nnt. in nalliatn llio nriniB nf liia irnnc. tt. . e t 7 1 vi treason Heaven fort -vj there were no wrongs ' - f , , . . , ' .t . . . great enough to drive atrtrt heart to that but , . 1 , . , , to snow how a brave xnatf may sometimes be f worried into madness. '" ;:- -h L Benedict Arnold has his glory and his crimes; he tad his wrongs, too. '" - . " " There we:e aspersions cast upon his "hitherto fair fame, lie had been accused of seizing cer tain goods at Montreal without lawful warrant. Congress had appoin'ed five major generals, all his juniors in rank, without remembering in the di stribution of her favors, the hero of Quebec and Champlain. and then sought by the paltry gift of a war horse to recompense him for the blood he had shed in the service of his country.. Aikj i pioeeedings'as these terribly grilled this impetuous man. Tiue, afterward his servi ces were recognised, when the board of war de clared tlrit his character h id been unjustly as persed, and Congress gave him the rank he ha 1 so fully won ; but their tardiness and neglect had sunk into his heart to rankle there. Chaf.-d and stu og, he had resigned his com mi -sioti ; but when, at the instance of Wash ington, he was called to join the armv in the north, he did not hesi'a'e, but again went foith to light his country's battles. And then a series of brilliant victories follow ed wherein he honotel himself and America; when he was junior in command he was at once, lea ler and hero. In May, 1778, Am ld joined the army at Valley Forge, and shortly afterwards took up his residence at Philadelphia," where-he married his ioveiy child-wife, the beaiuirul Margaret Shippen, the friend and' correspondent of Major Andre, the leader of fashion and gayety iu the Quaker City, yet, witl a1, tiie friend aud companion of ner her husband. Alas, that in all thos- long years since his ship sailed out of the haibor of Havana, aud he turned its prow towards his native land, iu those .iv years' of glory on the battle field, w.th such men as Oeorge Washington, 'Ethan Allen, and Daniel Morgan tor his companion-, in the bril liant saloons of Phi adeipliia, with the bright eyes beaming upon htm, and sued a woman as Margaret Arnold for his wife, with such honors aa ' Congress eventually, though uudi'v, had' heaped upon him, alas that B -ned ct Arnold had no meni 'iyoi' the pr.-mi-e hi- lip.- had spoken, no though s for the Spanish gfrl who long ere tiiis. had been laid .o sleeo under the uav "Teen sod of her native Indian Isle! ; For sweet Inez Velasquez was dead. . Ti;c hot Spanish bio jd of her sires flowed not so strong wnthtii her veins as the gentler tide caught I'r-.m the hear; .,( her blue-- ved E-igl-.-h mother. 11. r pride c uld not crush In r tender-ne.-s. hence her lite went out in the. strugg'e. Month after month, year af.er rolled their weary vi tries into the eternity of the past, and stdl the impetuous ga.iaut American, who had Won her h -art came not. Then she itn -w thai Benedict Arnold had de serte 1 her. and tln-n --he drooped and died. Truly for the here-broken' Inez, "The rpiietest sleep was underneath the gronml.'" And thus it was in that quk nt o'd M-iori h garden, washed by the o eau tides sweeping outward from the h.-.rbor of Havana, th--v laid her down lo :deep ; thus it was that where her life began it ended ; where her heart was won, it broke ; and over her w hite headstone the starry jasmines w aved to and fro like ac'oud of hover ing ang Is, and the scarlet pomegranate blossoms fluttered dow n like a flock of flame -winged birds continually alighting upjn her grave. Poor Inez Velasquez! Aud a 1 the time, while the ruby life-tide was ebbing within thy heart, thy gift, the blood-red cross, had uever paled upon thy lover's. Still, like a thing' of firej k Ufpaed upon his breast, while the fires of ambition were smothering with- m tnesj oaieiui names, wnicn, wnen waKeued ii.i.-iti i-i i . , there, wou.d lap up the very life blood of his honor. Mep oy step ne was waging the path wnose i . , ., ., , . end was ruin. Slowly his star was sloping to its downward way. And so they made the Spanish maiden a giave amid the richness of the tropics, and all Iuxuri:un? beautiful things. Better by far f.,r ii..,i:,.t rnn',l ) I l, AA tnn r- i: i ; to &!e,r.-i, bosU-- her he Bad not lived to become j a traitor then. CHAPTER IV. 'Twas day. But now few large and bright, The stars are round the crescent moon, And now it is a dark, warm night C'OLEKIDOE. -Many perils have I passed, Nor know I why this next appear the last ! Yet so my heart forebodes, but must not fear, Nor shall my followers find me falter here. BvKots's Corsair. It w:;s the noon of night... Ever since the gray twil.ght set in had Gene ral Arnold been ctoseted in the library of his mansion, then known as the Penn Ilouse, with his bu-iness agenr, writing letters and making the necessary arrangements for the disposal o' his persona! property in Philadelphia ; for that day had he received from Washington the com mand of West Point, and the morrow's sun must see him ou his journey thither. But when midnight came, all arrangements were completed. Transfers had been made, deeds signed, large sums of gold deposited in his agent's hands, to meet the immense debts 'which he had incline.! by his lavish prodigali ty and princely style of living ; and when the i l.idlc fiv.in t lii ,.t,t t: U.-.,,,., .,.11 f.... 1. . , .. , 1 the hour ot twelve, Arnold was alone once more. ; A blowly settliug himself in his arm chair, after ; the sound of his agent's receding footsteps liad , , , b 0 1 .died along the hall, he leaned his elbow ou the 1 , , f . . , , iaoie, auu ins neaa upon nis nanu ' , 1 . -i His face looked anxious, pale and careworn ; and well it might ; for those last few months of his life had not only left tfceir iron impress upon his brow, but in his heart. Ilis very attitude betokened weariness. He Nvas weary, wearied to death, at the treasonable game he" was playing; for it was no light thing, even for that daring, indomitable, rah man, to become a traitor. lie had-an honored name ; his country re posed trust in him ; Wasniugton was his friend; j and in the great wrong he had p'anned, and 1 which seemed almost upon the eve of consum- matton, had he no cau-e for reutoise I And for fear, too ? for what if he should j fail ' It was no idle game he held in his baud ; and the stakes ivere fearfully heavy. Yonder, iu his cabinet, lay the commission ' from Congress which had raised him to the i.rank of major general ; before him. upon the table, lay the letter fiom the commander-in-chief. which confirmed him in the command of We-l j Point ; and in that tiny inlaid rosewood writing 1 de-k, which stood upon the little table in the 1 southern bow window, where Margaret Arnold ill. i i came otteu to sit near ner nu-oau-i, ana pen tier , friendly le.tteis to John Andre, lay the replies to his offers of treason. , And General Arnold's youthful wife little ;' knew that her lively lettirs, detailing the ave- ties of her life iu the Quaker City, r.nd Major ' Andre's replies, which, tied together with a da nty ribbon, filled one corner of 'lur writing desk, were the veh'des of her husband's treason that, interlined b twein her ueiicaie chirogra ph', he had written promises to deliver West Point over to the British. Arnold knew that the game was begun. String his conscience ever so fiercely, it must be played through ; (vj'. in that-midnight hour, when everything was arranged, and he seemed ou tlifi very verge of siicces-, that bold, bad man trembled. Like a panorama, every scene of his eventful career passed before his mental vision the dark pine forests of Maine, the walls of Quebec, the" blue waters of Champlain, the battle field of Saratoga ; and over and above all ihi- brilliant seioli seemed written in lurid characters, as with a pen of lite, the single word, '"Traitor! tiattor!' The quiet of the n:g':t, and his rapidly rush ing thoughts, maddei e 1 him. lie rose, and j strode the room. ' 'T.s the infernal plot '" he muttered, hu-ki- lv. "By h.-aven, had any man said to me at T.conderoga or Qu b--c ' Benedict Arnold, vou w 11 one .!ay p ay the traitor,' I woufd have ground him back to dust beneath my heel! i But now now, au-1 he smote the air with i t cl nched fist, " now what am I but that accuised thing?'' j Th -u his mood changed. His lijs grew firm ! as though cut from iron ; his eve blaz.d with hate aud scorn. i ''Yet why,'' he went on, "why should it I madden mo so? Have I not had cause for this ? I Were not abuses heaped uj,on me? Dtd not a i lawless mob a'-sault me, and surr .und my iwel l ling ? Did not Congress treat me dishonorably, ... : . .i i n:.i ... rt v,,.t.". J . . . . innon in-ult me at Moinstown: And shall 1 ii i .it, c wit I. ii-o L-l - in. on in n -t if-iMiKi. thr hi.iir ot .... nv i . v...... . ... ------- - mv revenue is irgli I No! This cur.-ed cotin- ! fl-- !1 l..,r, It .1- M-.-ll If ll-.lw .rie.111 tllf , , , ,ti i i ,, cause for the deed J have done. Congress shad ,,- i have reason for reprimand now. G. orge ash- . 1 , , , , , lniTtOnSUail HOI have It IU sa uiiii. lie ieuui.cu o J me pafblicly, aud I tamely bore the insult. " 1 rrave them the be-t years of mv life the i . i. i t i. ... i ..- r.' l 1 strength oi mv mauuo -u. i siieu my o o -u , , ,r i t j i i hke wider: but. bv Heaven they've had the Iat waier, out, oy mV drop of my veins! ow-now, I c:i avenge lnvseif ! II a ! this shoii d be a ro al hour : , . , . . : ... i .... i . ana, in ins intense e.xcuemem, m.u to m.u ' fro with flashing eyes. Suddenly a white hand, sparkong with jew . els, was laid upon his arm, an said : i s 'ii voice ' ' j "General Arnold my husband !" ! lie turned and his beautiful chi d wife, c'ad 1 in white fieecv gaiments, as though attired for ! a festival, stood beside him. A soft beam l g ted his eye, and a tender smile quive-td around his Hp. " Margaret, you he-e ? he said. I thought i vou were at so.ue ui.u .. ec iv 1 i. T "to she renHud: ''but thoughts -of 1 your pale face haunted tue and so 1 order., face haunted tue and so I ordered the carriage home again. And now 1 nnd you restless and excited, pacinglhe floor. You have . . . r,-, i i i.,. -- t. .; i some tlOUb.e. 1 m-s commu cu WA ... involves you in seine way ou are id perhaps. nai is it, --ii clung to Ins arm. But these long night watches, after days of toil, are too much for you. Arnold, they are killing yo-.i. You must get sleep before you start on your journey." " Sleep ! 1 wonder if I will ever sleep a-ain !" he echoed, wildly, shaking off her arm, and walking to and fro. "Yes, I will sleep, Mar garet ; but not until I reach We-t Point. There I must needs slumber soundly and sweetlv patriots always do, do they not ?" and coiumg back and pausing beside her, he laughed ner vously. "0, my sweet wee wife does not know what a true-hearted, loyal pa" riot Benedict Arn old M'.' "I kn ow my husband for a brave aud r.oble soldier," said Mrs. Arnold proudly. Arnold groaned aloud in the bitterness of his j minima; ion, an.-, cos- d his Uce. " No ; it is nothing, Margaret. Y u are frightened. I have been making the m co-sat v arrangements for leaving Philadelphia, and am only fatigued ; that is all, he replu d, evasively. Arnold groaned aloud in the bitt- nie s of lis humiliation, and covered his face v nii id li .n The iron fangs of remorse were be-inii n r -i0 fa-ten upon his soul. A biave and noble soldier' Alas ! and j that is all! To a patriot's name he had, no" claim. Still his young wife stood beside him, plead ing that he w ould try, and sleep ere the dawn. " I can find no time for iv.-t. The hours of the night are precious. Much yet remains un done before my journey,"' was Iiis rep' v. " I -o early in the morning. You w ill join me by the ! 21st. Till-then, adieu, .Margaret, sweet Wife, for I must b d you leave me now."' And with the gallantry of a lov.-r. he kiss, d her, and was leading her to' the door of the apartment. Margaret Arnold took her husband's arm. As they p issed beneath the high marble man tel, whereon a solitary candle burned and flick ered iu t.he tall bronze candelabra. Arnold's eye caught the glimpse of something red and bright upon his wite's neck. Rapidly thrusting his hand into his bosom he as rapidly drew it forth again ; then bending over her, aud gia.-ping the ornament, he asked in a husky voice : ' Margaret, how came you by this?" For there siispeneded from her dainty white neck, by the slender chain of. gold, and burning red as fire upon her bosom, hung the ruby crcs. ' Tnis 1" echoed Mrs. Arnold, taking the cross from her husband's fingers. " 0, to be sure, I tound ,t w heie Ueuetal Arnold slyly deposi ed it iu my writing d sk ! . How kind and thou -htful of vou to make me such a bi thd v gift ! buthow qtuvr to put it there-!' Bu pr ',' j sd'ter that there came tidings which caused Ben where dia you prU ure it I I a-su e mum..;, edct Arnold's, cheek to turn pale, and bis heart with my new jewel-. I vva- quit- the ii i e of 1 to thrill with fear. the party to-i.-ight, and was ;.s..e l some half For the warming of the paling cross Lad dozen tunes where they were purchased, or if j proved true. Andre was a prisoner ; his scheme they were family jewels. Indeed, one gentle man sought the priv.lege of examining them, and declared the ruby real, of immeii.se value, aud the antique workmanship of the chain ex quisite. Pray, where did you g.-t them, Arn old ?" she playfully retort d. Ce.-tr.d Ann -Id saw her mi-take, Lr .-he had not noticed his quivering. white lips, and he le solvcd to profit by it, and iu as calm a voice as he could assume, he replied : "So my Maggie ;is p eased with her gift ? j Well, then, I am glad ; but go now yet leave ! me the cross tind chain. I would like to ex amine their workm uisl ip at my leisure, fur it is a foreign trinket, lb ere, go now." And le criving the cross from her hand, they paited, wdih a good-night kis, at the door. G. neral Arnold went back, and sto -d beneath the liht unou the mantel and gazed long and ' - "I earnestly up n the trinkt t he bell. " I must have dropped it from my neck into her writing desk," he murmured, remembering how, at dead of night, he had risen from his bed to write in his wife's letteis me ages to 'Major Andre. '' How strange that I did not miss it ? ' "But. ha ! what is it ? What if her w-ud-, ! u lne l d, . lite, but an IQie sUl)elS!l:l II. sno-.h-l - , "... prove true ' 1 i le y are sh neked true, aim i am lost ! And Arnoi I aloud ; for- Inez Velasquez's gift, ihe luby cross, i bad grown pa.e beneath Ins gaze, ? 1 , , . , 1 Mmutes, long to him as hours, went by ; and ! , ... . : he oulv murmure-1 m a strange, liollow oice . i . 1 . " T s ha fad. The warning came, but too " I shall fail. The warning came, 1 late too late ? And then, as waters will sometimes bubble , . . . , , . - up clear and binpid from the dce ola k spring, I 1 . . , 1 , ., . , - . . , - . , ,,.;, nau. 1 memorhs of th it l.ve ! 1 l i j OU'll. ; jlC wai)der. d Ids pvps. he wandered in . ... . , n.t , ,i..,t ait iUV " ll'l J - , , - s, il,h. TiriI M I) J i, if 1 1 1 I iU.CH "0'- "-' ------ 1 i of. tropic skies, breathed air, fragrant ot pom - ; granate and orange; and one by one, as a nionKt counts his beads, he said over the biofcen vows uttered in thai sweet, sweet sp. ing ime of the i i i nearu " Dead, dead !" he murmure ; sa.l'y. " I know it all i.mv Ad these loi.-ir 'va s cal.n-.t naie j e v and her heart u,)t h-u. ; u . , thus k L:ts bet;I1 tVom mj y.utl. j . r. 0(Kj j,ni ioveiy thing 1 have "t ' - '.. . . . . . cursed in mv path, and now, now, he added in , a bo,jow with this warning of ,ny doom, what have I U lock forwaid to but death, or, ' f. . . . .-... fr .-...I e c 1 .' ?' worse iai, luuieinj-.. c.... . , , . m with a hfcavy heart Benedict Arnold set forth for -West Point. CHAPTER V. Listen f There's shame, and hisssing, and con tempt, and none but laugh who names me ; none but spits measureless scorn upon me. Browsing. - The 21st of September came, the day arrant ged for the consummation of Arnold's treason, f r delivering the stronghold of the American army, West Point, up to General Clinton, At iiold, who had been joined that day by his , 1 vely wife, was at tile garrison ; but all her ' fascinations failed to drive the moodiness from ' h:s brow, or the dark f-ars which held him i ' thrall from his heart. That omen of the ruby cross had exerted a I wonderful e ffect upon him. He was by nature .... iuhuiim ii om superstition, or any Deliet in the wondeiful Sometimes he strove to believe jtlmt it-.WM bft the a;:cv of bis own excited ,, biain ; yet it would not do. He had become ; nervous and weak in the extreme, and the veri- ., , e-t trifle discomposed and annoyed him, i And th. re, ever before his eyes, he saw the -ingle terrible word "traitor," but the game was begun, and heimust play it out. i It was a brilliant festival- night at West j Point ; for a ball wa given, by the young offi- cers of5 the garrison iivlionor of their cominau.- j der and his youthful aiid beautiful wife. There j w.-re many brilliant gatherings in those days' i for America had accomplished belles and beau j ties, and gay and gallant raeo but none where j -gayer or braver met than on that night at the ' old foi tress of West Point. . Such men as General Hamilton and Lafay- el te, such beautiful women as Margaret Arnold joined in the dance, and the walls resounded with the echoes of laughter, and strains of inulsic. . v. At ruidn'ght, with a cautious, stealthy tread Arnold left the revellers, and 6toIe to a lonely unfrequented spot some little way distant with in the American lines. And there, awaiting him, he found Maj. John Andre ; there he delivered to him the papers the papers which were to give West Point into the po-sessiou of the enemy the plans and drafts of the fortifications. Base traitor ! There was much to be said, many instruc tions to be given ; for in the excitement of Li, revengeful hopes, Arnold had forgotten his fears, and the morning dawned and found them ilill together. ' Major Andre could not effect his return to the British camp by dayliglfl ; hence he must lie concealed till evening shades again shrouded the eaith. '1 hat day went by, and -in the" darkness of -night, Andre set forth upon his tjourney ; but had failed ; he was in danger. . Then followed ten long weary days ; days of agony to brave John Andre, iu his solitary confinement, his trial, and his doom ; days of terror, and shame, and fear lo the traitor, who ! lay concealed on board the sloop of war "Vul J lure ;" and when in agony of reinor.-e, he heard 1 the solemn rni.aite guns booming over the wa ! ttr, and telling the tale of the unhappy Andre's ! death, when the Vulture stood out to sea, he ! sit mute aud white in the cabin, with the stain . j of a teirible sin the murder of John Andre upou his soul. j Then, convulsively grasping the ruby cross, he cried, '"Inez, In?z, thou art avenged ! Thy gift did wain m , but too late too late ! The danger came nigh, and I had no power to turn it from me." And ihe unhappy rnau strode the floor, and wrung his hands in his misery "Henceforth my n un i will be spoken will be spoken among my countrymen with loathing ; it will be a bve-word and a shame ; and this, th'-s it is to be a traitor " Long he sat ; then a dash of the old passion ai'I pride came back to his heart and trembled n Ids tongue. ; "But, Hor fool, pooV pitiful fool that I am, to sit thus, snivelling like a very child True I have failed htre, but Avurica shall not be for gotten. Perish those whimpers and regrets ; j perish all memories pi me past an memories, ave ot my wrongs. And thou, lying Daooier, to the gleaming trinket in his hand, "thou, too, who ga vest warning of my danger Joo late for my redemption : thou, too, shall be buried deep iu these waters, as an oblivion. And he flung it far through the cabin window into the sea. And never again, lying close upon his breast, I was that ruby cross a charm, an amulet to j keep away the fiends of evil, gnawing evermore j at Benedict Arnold's -heart. For the star of his glory, which had riseri'at I Quebec, blazed with noontide splendor on Late ' Champlain, and culminated at Saratoga, had I set for ever. I England paid him gold as the price of his j honor, and England gave him a gTave. Pity, ! too, she did not have the honor (?) of his birth ; ! and alas that America's fair escutcheon must ' ivmain tarnished by such a name as thai of "At teJict Arnold the Traitor English Gypsies in- the Umted States. A band of English Gypsies are encamped in I the woods norm ol lioboken, near me main i 1 T load. The company consists of three families, numbering twenty seven persons. They were landed here last week by the ship Neptune, fr. m Liverpool, almost destitute of money, They will probably wander away South before the approach of cold weather. Several com panies of these people are now travelling in va rious parts of the country, going North in sum mer season, and turning to a wanner latitude in the fall. Their manner of supporting them- V -elves, according to their own account, is by ; telling fortunes, trading horses, and J repairing topper kettles, tin-ware, fec, but the most im nottant. item it.f their income is nrobabW thit I which they okain by pilfering. New York JJJLjJt to. I'll. i" 'i -f !1 I ft' 1 L