Of course, in a community so organized, what can a man of honorable and humane feelings do, but shut his eyes all he can, and harden his heart? I can?t buy every poor wretch I seeI can?t turn knight-errant, and undertake to redress every individual case of wrong in such a city as thisThe most I can do is to try and keep out of the way of itClare?s fine countenance was for a moment overcast; he said, ?Come, cousin, don?t stand there looking like one of the Fates; you?ve only seen a peep through the curtain,?a specimen of what is going on, the world over, in some shape or otherIf we are to be prying and spying into all the dismals of life, we should have no heart to anything?T is like looking too close into the details of Dinah?s kitchen;? and StClare lay back on the sofa, and busied himself with his paper Miss Ophelia sat down, and pulled out her knitting-work, and sat there grim with indignationShe knit and knit, but while she mused the fire burned; at last she broke out??I tell you, Augustine, I can?t get over things so, if you canIt?s a perfect abomination for you to defend such a system,?that?s my mind!? ?What now?? said St?At it again, hey?? ?I say it?s perfectly abominable for you to defend such a system!? said Miss Ophelia, with increasing warmth ?I defend it, my dear lady? Who ever said I did defend it?? said St ?Of course, you defend it,?you all do,?all you SouthernersWhat do you have slaves for, if you don?t?? ?Are you such a sweet innocent as to suppose nobody in this world ever does what they don?t think is right? Don?t you, or didn?t you ever, do anything that you did not think quite right?? ?If I do, I repent of it, I hope,? said Miss Ophelia, rattling her needles with energyClare, peeling his orange; ?I?m repenting of it all the time ?What do you keep on doing it for?? ?Didn?t you ever keep on doing wrong, after you?d repented, my good cousin?? ?Well, only when I?ve been very much tempted,? said Miss Ophelia ?Well, I?m very much tempted,? said StClare; ?that?s just my difficulty ?But I always resolve I won?t and I try to break off ?Well, I have been resolving I won?t, off and on, these ten years,? said StClare; ?but I haven?t, some how, got clearHave you got clear of all your sins, cousin?? ?Cousin Augustine,? said Miss Ophelia, seriously, and laying down her knitting-work, ?I suppose I deserve that you should reprove my short-comingsI know all you say is true enough; nobody else feels them more than I do; but it does seem to me, after all, there is some difference between me and youIt seems to me I would cut off my right hand sooner than keep on, from day to day, doing what I thought was wrongBut, then, my conduct is so inconsistent with my profession, I don?t wonder you reprove me ?O, now, cousin,? said Augustine, sitting down on the floor, and laying his head back in her lap, ?don?t take on so awfully serious! You know what a good-for-nothing, saucy boy I always wasI love to poke you up,?that?s all,?just to see you get earnestI do think you are desperately, distressingly good; it tires me to death to think of it ?But this is a serious subject, my boy, Auguste,? said Miss Ophelia, laying her hand on his forehead ?Dismally so,? said he; ?and I?well, I never want to talk seriously in hot weatherWhat with mosquitos and all, a fellow can?t get himself up to any very sublime moral flights; and I believe,? said StClare, suddenly rousing himself up, ?there?s a theory, now! I understand now why northern nations are always more virtuous than southern ones,?I see into that whole subject ?O, Augustine, you are a sad rattle-brain!? ?Am I? Well, so I am, I suppose; but for once I will be serious, now; but you must hand me that basket of oranges;?you see, you?ll have to ?stay me with flagons and comfort me with apples,? if I?m going to make this effortNow,? said Augustine, drawing the basket up, ?I?ll begin: When, in the course of human events, it becomes necessary for a fellow to hold two or three dozen of his fellow-worms in captivity, a decent regard to the opinions of society requires?? ?I don?t see that you are growing more serious,? said Miss Ophelia ?Wait,?I?m coming on,?you?ll hearThe short of the matter is, cousin,? said he, his handsome face suddenly settling into an earnest and serious expression, ?on this abstract question of slavery there can, as I think, be but one opinionPlanters, who have money to make by it,?clergymen, who have planters to please,?politicians, who want to rule by it,?may warp and bend language and ethics to a degree that shall astonish the world at their ingenuity; they can press nature and the Bible, and nobody knows what else, into the service; but, after all, neither they nor the world believe in it one particle the moreIt comes from the devil, that?s the short of it;?and, to my mind, it?s a pretty respectable specimen of what he can do in his own line Miss Ophelia stopped her knitting, and looked surprised, and StClare, apparently enjoying her astonishment, went shop on

Her teeth, in the dim, uncertain light, seemed longer and sharper than they had been in the morningIn particular, by some trick of the light, the canine teeth looked longer and sharper than the rest I sat down beside her, and presently she moved uneasilyAt the same moment there came a sort of dull flapping or buffeting at the windowI went over to it softly, and peeped out by the corner of the blindThere was a full moonlight, and I could see that the noise was made by a great bat, which wheeled around, doubtless attracted by the light, although so dim, and every now and again struck the window with its wingsWhen I came back to my seat, I found that Lucy had moved slightly, and had torn away the garlic flowers from her throatI replaced them as well as I could, and sat watching her Presently she woke, and I gave her food, as Van Helsing had prescribedShe took but a little, and that languidlyThere did not seem to be with her now the unconscious struggle for life and strength that had hitherto so marked her illnessIt struck me as curious that the moment she became conscious she pressed the garlic flowers close to herIt was certainly odd that whenever she got into that lethargic state, with the stertorous breathing, she put the flowers from her, but that when she waked she clutched them closeThere was no possibility of making any mistake about this, for in the long hours that followed, she had many spells of sleeping and waking and repeated both actions many times At six o'clock Van Helsing came to relieve meArthur had then fallen into a doze, and he mercifully let him sleep onWhen he saw Lucy's face I could hear the hissing indraw of breath, and he said to me in a sharp whisperI want light!" Then he bent down, and, with his face almost touching Lucy's, examined her carefullyHe removed the flowers and lifted the silk handkerchief from her throatAs he did so he started back and I could hear his ejaculation, "Mein Gott!" as it was smothered in his throatI bent over and looked, too, and as I noticed some queer chill came over meThe wounds on the throat had absolutely disappeared For fully five minutes Van Helsing stood looking at her, with his face at its sternestThen he turned to me and said calmly, "She is dyingIt will not be long nowIt will be much difference, mark me, whether she dies conscious or in her sleepWake that poor boy, and let him come and see the lastHe trusts us, and we have promised him I went to the dining room and waked himHe was dazed for a moment, but when he saw the sunlight streaming in through the edges of the shutters he thought he was late, and expressed his fearI assured him that Lucy was still asleep, but told him as gently as I could that both Van Helsing and I feared that the end was nearHe covered his face with his hands, and slid down on his knees by the sofa, where he remained, perhaps a minute, with his head buried, praying, whilst his shoulders shook with griefI took him by the hand and raised him up"Come," I said, "my dear old fellow, summon all your fortitudeIt will be best and easiest for her When we came into Lucy's room I could see that Van Helsing had, with his usual forethought, been putting matters straight and making everything look as pleasing as possibleHe had even brushed Lucy's hair, so that it lay on the pillow in its usual sunny ripplesWhen we came into the room she opened her eyes, and seeing him, whispered softly, "Arthur! Oh, my love, I am so glad you have come!" He was stooping to kiss her, when Van Helsing motioned him back"No," he whispered, "not yet! Hold her hand, it will comfort her more So Arthur took her hand and knelt beside her, and she looked her best, with all the soft lines matching the angelic beauty of her shop eyes

It was George Shelby; and, to show how he came to be there, we must go back in our story The letter of Miss Ophelia to MrsShelby had, by some unfortunate accident, been detained, for a month or two, at some remote post-office, before it reached its destination; and, of course, before it was received, Tom was already lost to view among the distant swamps of the Red riverShelby read the intelligence with the deepest concern; but any immediate action upon it was an impossibilityShe was then in attendance on the sick-bed of her husband, who lay delirious in the crisis of a feverMaster George Shelby, who, in the interval, had changed from a boy to a tall young man, was her constant and faithful assistant, and her only reliance in superintending his father?s affairsMiss Ophelia had taken the precaution to send them the name of the lawyer who did business for the StClares; and the most that, in the emergency, could be done, was to address a letter of inquiry to himThe sudden death of MrShelby, a few days after, brought, of course, an absorbing pressure of other interests, for a seasonShelby showed his confidence in his wife?s ability, by appointing her sole executrix upon his estates; and thus immediately a large and complicated amount of business was brought upon her handsShelby, with characteristic energy, applied herself to the work of straightening the entangled web of affairs; and she and George were for some time occupied with collecting and examining accounts, selling property and settling debts; for MrsShelby was determined that everything should be brought into tangible and recognizable shape, let the consequences to her prove what they mightIn the mean time, they received a letter from the lawyer to whom Miss Ophelia had referred them, saying that he knew nothing of the matter; that the man was sold at a public auction, and that, beyond receiving the money, he knew nothing of the affair Neither George nor MrsShelby could be easy at this result; and, accordingly, some six months after, the latter, having business for his mother, down the river, resolved to visit New Orleans, in person, and push his inquiries, in hopes of discovering Tom?s whereabouts, and restoring him After some months of unsuccessful search, by the merest accident, George fell in with a man, in New Orleans, who happened to be possessed of the desired information; and with his money in his pocket, our hero took steamboat for Red river, resolving to find out and re-purchase his old friend He was soon introduced into the house, where he found Legree in the sitting-room Legree received the stranger with a kind of surly hospitality, ?I understand,? said the young man, ?that you bought, in New Orleans, a boy, named TomHe used to be on my father?s place, and I came to see if I couldn?t buy him back Legree?s brow grew dark, and he broke out, passionately: ?Yes, I did buy such a fellow,?and a h?l of a bargain I had of it, too! The most rebellious, saucy, impudent dog! Set up my niggers to run away; got off two gals, worth eight hundred or a thousand apieceHe owned to that, and, when I bid him tell me where they was, he up and said he knew, but he wouldn?t tell; and stood to it, though I gave him the cussedest flogging I ever gave nigger yetI b?lieve he?s trying to die; but I don?t know as he?ll make it out ?Where is he?? said George, impetuously The cheeks of the young man were crimson, and his eyes flashed fire; but he prudently said nothing, as yet ?He?s in dat ar shed,? said a little fellow, who stood holding George?s horse Legree kicked the boy, and swore at him; but George, without saying another word, turned and strode to the spot Tom had been lying two days since the fatal night, not suffering, for every nerve of suffering was blunted and destroyedHe lay, for the most part, in a quiet stupor; for the laws of a powerful and well-knit frame would not at once release the imprisoned spiritBy stealth, there had been there, in the darkness of the night, poor desolated creatures, who stole from their scanty hours? rest, that they might repay to him some of those ministrations of love in which he had always been so abundantTruly, those poor disciples had little to give,?only the cup of cold water; but it was given with full hearts Tears had fallen on that honest, insensible face,?tears of late repentance in the poor, ignorant heathen, whom his dying love and patience had awakened to repentance, and bitter prayers, breathed over him to a late-found Saviour, of whom they scarce knew more than the name, but whom the yearning ignorant heart of man never implores in vain Cassy, who had glided out of her place of concealment, and, by overhearing, learned the sacrifice that had been made for her and Emmeline, had been there, the night before, defying the danger of detection; and, moved by the last few words which the affectionate soul had yet strength to breathe, the long winter of despair, the ice of years, had given way, and the dark, despairing woman had wept and prayed When George entered the shed, he felt his head giddy and his heart sick ?Is it possible,,?is it possible?? said he, kneeling down by him?Uncle Tom, my poor, poor old friend!? Something in the voice penetrated to the ear of the dyingHe moved his head gently, smiled, and said, ?Jesus can make a dying-bed Feel soft as down pillows are Tears which did honor to his manly heart fell from the young man?s eyes, as he bent over his poor friend ?O, dear Uncle Tom! do wake,?do speak once more! Look up! Here?s Mas?r George,?your own little Mas?r GeorgeDon?t you know me?? ?Mas?r George!? said Tom, opening his eyes, and speaking in a feeble voice; ?Mas?r George!? He looked shop bewildered

The suit in which I had travelled was gone, and also my overcoat and rugI could find no trace of them anywhereThis looked like some new scheme of villainy? 17 June-This morning, as I was sitting on the edge of my bed cudgelling my brains, I heard without a crackling of whips and pounding and scraping of horses' feet up the rocky path beyond the courtyardWith joy I hurried to the window, and saw drive into the yard two great leiter-wagons, each drawn by eight sturdy horses, and at the head of each pair a Slovak, with his wide hat, great nail-studded belt, dirty sheepskin, and high bootsThey had also their long staves in handI ran to the door, intending to descend and try and join them through the main hall, as I thought that way might be opened for themAgain a shock, my door was fastened on the outside Then I ran to the window and cried to themThey looked up at me stupidly and pointed, but just then the "hetman" of the Szgany came out, and seeing them pointing to my window, said something, at which they laughed Henceforth no effort of mine, no piteous cry or agonized entreaty, would make them even look at meThey resolutely turned awayThe leiter-wagons contained great, square boxes, with handles of thick ropeThese were evidently empty by the ease with which the Slovaks handled them, and by their resonance as they were roughly moved When they were all unloaded and packed in a great heap in one corner of the yard, the Slovaks were given some money by the Szgany, and spitting on it for luck, lazily went each to his horse's headShortly afterwards, I heard the crackling of their whips die away in the distance-Last night the Count left me early, and locked himself into his own roomAs soon as I dared I ran up the winding stair, and looked out of the window, which opened SouthI thought I would watch for the Count, for there is something going onThe Szgany are quartered somewhere in the castle and are doing work of some kindI know it, for now and then, I hear a far-away muffled sound as of mattock and spade, and, whatever it is, it must be the end of some ruthless villainy I had been at the window somewhat less than half an hour, when I saw something coming out of the Count's windowI drew back and watched carefully, and saw the whole man emergeIt was a new shock to me to find that he had on the suit of clothes which I had worn whilst travelling here, and slung over his shoulder the terrible bag which I had seen the women take awayThere could be no doubt as to his quest, and in my garb, too! This, then, is his new scheme of evil, that he will allow others to see me, as they think, so that he may both leave evidence that I have been seen in the towns or villages posting my own letters, and that any wickedness which he may do shall by the local people be attributed to me It makes me rage to think that this can go on, and whilst I am shut up here, a veritable prisoner, but without that protection of the law which is even a criminal's right and consolation I thought I would watch for the Count's return, and for a long time sat doggedly at the windowThen I began to notice that there were some quaint little specks floating in the rays of the moonlightThey were like the tiniest grains of dust, and they whirled round and gathered in clusters in a nebulous sort of wayI watched them with a sense of soothing, and a sort of calm stole over meI leaned back in the embrasure in a more comfortable position, so that I could enjoy more fully the aerial gambolling Something made me start up, a low, piteous howling of dogs somewhere far below in the valley, which was hidden from my sightLouder it seemed to ring in my ears, and the floating moats of dust to take new shapes to the sound as they danced in the moonlightI felt myself struggling to awake to some call of my instinctsNay, my very soul was struggling, and my half-remembered sensibilities were striving to answer the callI was becoming hypnotised! Quicker and quicker danced the dustThe moonbeams seemed to quiver as they went by me into the mass of gloom beyondMore and more they gathered till they seemed to take dim phantom shapesAnd then I started, broad awake and in full possession of my senses, and ran screaming from the place The phantom shapes, which were becoming gradually materialised from the moonbeams, were those three ghostly women to whom I was shop doomed

Clare always laughs when I make the least allusion to my ill health,? said Marie, with the voice of a suffering martyr?I only hope the day won?t come when he?ll remember it!? and Marie put her handkerchief to her eyes Of course, there was rather a foolish silenceClare got up, looked at his watch, and said he had an engagement down streetEva tripped away after him, and Miss Ophelia and Marie remained at the table alone ?Now, that?s just like StClare!? said the latter, withdrawing her handkerchief with somewhat of a spirited flourish when the criminal to be affected by it was no longer in sight?He never realizes, never can, never will, what I suffer, and have, for yearsIf I was one of the complaining sort, or ever made any fuss about my ailments, there would be some reason for itMen do get tired, naturally, of a complaining wifeBut I?ve kept things to myself, and borne, and borne, till StClare has got in the way of thinking I can bear anything Miss Ophelia did not exactly know what she was expected to answer to this While she was thinking what to say, Marie gradually wiped away her tears, and smoothed her plumage in a general sort of way, as a dove might be supposed to make toilet after a shower, and began a housewifely chat with Miss Ophelia, concerning cupboards, closets, linen-presses, store-rooms, and other matters, of which the latter was, by common understanding, to assume the direction,?giving her so many cautious directions and charges, that a head less systematic and business-like than Miss Ophelia?s would have been utterly dizzied and confounded ?And now,? said Marie, ?I believe I?ve told you everything; so that, when my next sick turn comes on, you?ll be able to go forward entirely, without consulting me;?only about Eva,?she requires watching ?She seems to be a good child, very,? said Miss Ophelia; ?I never saw a better child ?Eva?s peculiar,? said her mother, ?veryThere are things about her so singular; she isn?t like me, now, a particle;? and Marie sighed, as if this was a truly melancholy consideration Miss Ophelia in her own heart said, ?I hope she isn?t,? but had prudence enough to keep it down ?Eva always was disposed to be with servants; and I think that well enough with some childrenNow, I always played with father?s little negroes?it never did me any harmBut Eva somehow always seems to put herself on an equality with every creature that comes near herIt?s a strange thing about the childI never have been able to break her of itClare, I believe, encourages her in itClare indulges every creature under this roof but his own wife Again Miss Ophelia sat in blank silence ?Now, there?s no way with servants,? said Marie, ?but to put them down, and keep them downIt was always natural to me, from a childEva is enough to spoil a whole house-fullWhat she will do when she comes to keep house herself, I?m sure I don?t knowI hold to being kind to servants?I always am; but you must make ?em know their placeEva never does; there?s no getting into the child?s head the first beginning of an idea what a servant?s place is! You heard her offering to take care of me nights, to let Mammy sleep! That?s just a specimen of the way the child would be doing all the time, if she was left to herself ?Why,? said Miss Ophelia, bluntly, ?I suppose you think your servants are human creatures, and ought to have some rest when they are tired ?Certainly, of courseI?m very particular in letting them have everything that comes convenient,?anything that doesn?t put one at all out of the way, you knowMammy can make up her sleep, some time or other; there?s no difficulty about thatShe?s the sleepiest concern that ever I saw; sewing, standing, or sitting, that creature will go to sleep, and sleep anywhere and everywhereNo danger but Mammy gets sleep enoughBut this treating servants as if they were exotic flowers, or china vases, is really ridiculous,? said Marie, as she plunged languidly into the depths of a voluminous and pillowy lounge, and drew towards her an elegant cut-glass shop vinaigrette