For some remarkable reason, ghostly legends were uncommonly rife, aboutthis time, among the servants on Legree's place.

It was whisperingly asserted that footsteps, in the dead of night, hadbeen heard descending the garret stairs, and patrolling the house. Invain the doors of the upper entry had been locked; the ghost eithercarried a duplicate key in its pocket, or availed itself of a ghost'simmemorial privilege of coming through the keyhole, and promenaded asbefore, with a freedom that was alarming.

Authorities were somewhat divided, as to the outward form of the spirit,owing to a custom quite prevalent among negroes,--and, for aught weknow, among whites, too,--of invariably shutting the eyes, and coveringup heads under blankets, petticoats, or whatever else might come in usefor a shelter, on these occasions. Of course, as everybody knows,when the bodily eyes are thus out of the lists, the spiritual eyesare uncommonly vivacious and perspicuous; and, therefore, there wereabundance of full-length portraits of the ghost, abundantly sworn andtestified to, which, as is often the case with portraits, agreed witheach other in no particular, except the common family peculiarity of theghost tribe,--the wearing of a _white sheet_. The poor souls werenot versed in ancient history, and did not know that Shakspeare hadauthenticated this costume, by telling how

"The sheeted dead Did squeak and gibber in the streets of Rome."*

* _Hamlet_, Act I, scene 1, lines 115-116

And, therefore, their all hitting upon this is a striking fact inpneumatology, which we recommend to the attention of spiritual mediagenerally.

Be it as it may, we have private reasons for knowing that a tall figurein a white sheet did walk, at the most approved ghostly hours,around the Legree premises,--pass out the doors, glide about thehouse,--disappear at intervals, and, reappearing, pass up the silentstairway, into that fatal garret; and that, in the morning, the entrydoors were all found shut and locked as firm as ever.

Legree could not help overhearing this whispering; and it was all themore exciting to him, from the pains that were taken to conceal it fromhim. He drank more brandy than usual; held up his head briskly, andswore louder than ever in the daytime; but he had bad dreams, and thevisions of his head on his bed were anything but agreeable. The nightafter Tom's body had been carried away, he rode to the next town for acarouse, and had a high one. Got home late and tired; locked his door,took out the key, and went to bed.

After all, let a man take what pains he may to hush it down, a humansoul is an awful ghostly, unquiet possession, for a bad man to have.Who knows the metes and bounds of it? Who knows all its awfulperhapses,--those shudderings and tremblings, which it can no more livedown than it can outlive its own eternity! What a fool is he who lockshis door to keep out spirits, who has in his own bosom a spirit he daresnot meet alone,--whose voice, smothered far down, and piled over withmountains of earthliness, is yet like the forewarning trumpet of doom!

But Legree locked his door and set a chair against it; he set anight-lamp at the head of his bed; and put his pistols there. Heexamined the catches and fastenings of the windows, and then swore he"didn't care for the devil and all his angels," and went to sleep.

Well, he slept, for he was tired,--slept soundly. But, finally, therecame over his sleep a shadow, a horror, an apprehension of somethingdreadful hanging over him. It was his mother's shroud, he thought; butCassy had it, holding it up, and showing it to him. He heard a confusednoise of screams and groanings; and, with it all, he knew he wasasleep, and he struggled to wake himself. He was half awake. He was suresomething was coming into his room. He knew the door was opening, but hecould not stir hand or foot. At last he turned, with a start; the door_was_ open, and he saw a hand putting out his light.

It was a cloudy, misty moonlight, and there he saw it!--something white,gliding in! He heard the still rustle of its ghostly garments. It stoodstill by his bed;--a cold hand touched his; a voice said, three times,in a low, fearful whisper, "Come! come! come!" And, while he laysweating with terror, he knew not when or how, the thing was gone. Hesprang out of bed, and pulled at the door. It was shut and locked, andthe man fell down in a swoon.

After this, Legree became a harder drinker than ever before. He nolonger drank cautiously, prudently, but imprudently and recklessly.

There were reports around the country, soon after that he was sick anddying. Excess had brought on that frightful disease that seems to throwthe lurid shadows of a coming retribution back into the present life.None could bear the horrors of that sick room, when he raved andscreamed, and spoke of sights which almost stopped the blood of thosewho heard him; and, at his dying bed, stood a stern, white, inexorablefigure, saying, "Come! come! come!"

By a singular coincidence, on the very night that this vision appearedto Legree, the house-door was found open in the morning, and some of thenegroes had seen two white figures gliding down the avenue towards thehigh-road.

It was near sunrise when Cassy and Emmeline paused, for a moment, in alittle knot of trees near the town.

Cassy was dressed after the manner of the Creole Spanish ladies,--whollyin black. A small black bonnet on her head, covered by a veil thickwith embroidery, concealed her face. It had been agreed that, intheir escape, she was to personate the character of a Creole lady, andEmmeline that of her servant.

Brought up, from early life, in connection with the highest society, thelanguage, movements and air of Cassy, were all in agreement with thisidea; and she had still enough remaining with her, of a once splendidwardrobe, and sets of jewels, to enable her to personate the thing toadvantage.

She stopped in the outskirts of the town, where she had noticed trunksfor sale, and purchased a handsome one. This she requested the man tosend along with her. And, accordingly, thus escorted by a boy wheelingher trunk, and Emmeline behind her, carrying her carpet-bag and sundrybundles, she made her appearance at the small tavern, like a lady ofconsideration.

The first person that struck her, after her arrival, was George Shelby,who was staying there, awaiting the next boat.

Cassy had remarked the young man from her loophole in the garret, andseen him bear away the body of Tom, and observed with secret exultation,his rencontre with Legree. Subsequently she had gathered, from theconversations she had overheard among the negroes, as she glided aboutin her ghostly disguise, after nightfall, who he was, and in whatrelation he stood to Tom. She, therefore, felt an immediate accession ofconfidence, when she found that he was, like herself, awaiting the nextboat.

Cassy's air and manner, address, and evident command of money, preventedany rising disposition to suspicion in the hotel. People never inquiretoo closely into those who are fair on the main point, of payingwell,--a thing which Cassy had foreseen when she provided herself withmoney.

In the edge of the evening, a boat was heard coming along, and GeorgeShelby handed Cassy aboard, with the politeness which comes naturallyto every Kentuckian, and exerted himself to provide her with a goodstate-room.

Cassy kept her room and bed, on pretext of illness, during the wholetime they were on Red River; and was waited on, with obsequiousdevotion, by her attendant.

When they arrived at the Mississippi river, George, having learned thatthe course of the strange lady was upward, like his own, proposed totake a state-room for her on the same boat with himself,--good-naturedlycompassionating her feeble health, and desirous to do what he could toassist her.

Behold, therefore, the whole party safely transferred to the goodsteamer Cincinnati, and sweeping up the river under a powerful head ofsteam.

Cassy's health was much better. She sat upon the guards, came to thetable, and was remarked upon in the boat as a lady that must have beenvery handsome.

From the moment that George got the first glimpse of her face, he wastroubled with one of those fleeting and indefinite likenesses, whichalmost every body can remember, and has been, at times, perplexedwith. He could not keep himself from looking at her, and watching herperpetually. At table, or sitting at her state-room door, stillshe would encounter the young man's eyes fixed on her, and politelywithdrawn, when she showed, by her countenance, that she was sensible tothe observation.

Cassy became uneasy. She began to think that he suspected something;and finally resolved to throw herself entirely on his generosity, andintrusted him with her whole history.

George was heartily disposed to sympathize with any one who had escapedfrom Legree's plantation,--a place that he could not remember or speakof with patience,--and, with the courageous disregard of consequenceswhich is characteristic of his age and state, he assured her that hewould do all in his power to protect and bring them through.

The next state-room to Cassy's was occupied by a French lady, named DeThoux, who was accompanied by a fine little daughter, a child of sometwelve summers.

This lady, having gathered, from George's conversation, that he was fromKentucky, seemed evidently disposed to cultivate his acquaintance; inwhich design she was seconded by the graces of her little girl, whowas about as pretty a plaything as ever diverted the weariness of afortnight's trip on a steamboat.

George's chair was often placed at her state-room door; and Cassy, asshe sat upon the guards, could hear their conversation.

Madame de Thoux was very minute in her inquiries as to Kentucky,where she said she had resided in a former period of her life. Georgediscovered, to his surprise, that her former residence must have beenin his own vicinity; and her inquiries showed a knowledge of people andthings in his vicinity, that was perfectly surprising to him.

"Do you know," said Madame de Thoux to him, one day, "of any man, inyour neighborhood, of the name of Harris?"

"There is an old fellow, of that name, lives not far from my father'splace," said George. "We never have had much intercourse with him,though."

"He is a large slave-owner, I believe," said Madame de Thoux, with amanner which seemed to betray more interest than she was exactly willingto show.

"He is," said George, looking rather surprised at her manner.

"Did you ever know of his having--perhaps, you may have heard of hishaving a mulatto boy, named George?"

"O, certainly,--George Harris,--I know him well; he married a servant ofmy mother's, but has escaped, now, to Canada."

"He has?" said Madame de Thoux, quickly. "Thank God!"

George looked a surprised inquiry, but said nothing.

Madame de Thoux leaned her head on her hand, and burst into tears.

"He is my brother," she said.

"Madame!" said George, with a strong accent of surprise.

"Yes," said Madame de Thoux, lifting her head, proudly, and wiping hertears, "Mr. Shelby, George Harris is my brother!"

"I am perfectly astonished," said George, pushing back his chair a paceor two, and looking at Madame de Thoux.

"I was sold to the South when he was a boy," said she. "I was bought bya good and generous man. He took me with him to the West Indies, set mefree, and married me. It is but lately that he died; and I was going upto Kentucky, to see if I could find and redeem my brother."

"I heard him speak of a sister Emily, that was sold South," said George.

"Yes, indeed! I am the one," said Madame de Thoux;--"tell me what sortof a--"

"A very fine young man," said George, "notwithstanding the curse ofslavery that lay on him. He sustained a first rate character, bothfor intelligence and principle. I know, you see," he said; "because hemarried in our family."

"What sort of a girl?" said Madame de Thoux, eagerly.

"A treasure," said George; "a beautiful, intelligent, amiable girl.Very pious. My mother had brought her up, and trained her as carefully,almost, as a daughter. She could read and write, embroider and sew,beautifully; and was a beautiful singer."

"Was she born in your house?" said Madame de Thoux.

"No. Father bought her once, in one of his trips to New Orleans, andbrought her up as a present to mother. She was about eight or nine yearsold, then. Father would never tell mother what he gave for her; but, theother day, in looking over his old papers, we came across the bill ofsale. He paid an extravagant sum for her, to be sure. I suppose, onaccount of her extraordinary beauty."

George sat with his back to Cassy, and did not see the absorbedexpression of her countenance, as he was giving these details.

At this point in the story, she touched his arm, and, with a faceperfectly white with interest, said, "Do you know the names of thepeople he bought her of?"

"A man of the name of Simmons, I think, was the principal in thetransaction. At least, I think that was the name on the bill of sale."

"O, my God!" said Cassy, and fell insensible on the floor of the cabin.

George was wide awake now, and so was Madame de Thoux. Though neither ofthem could conjecture what was the cause of Cassy's fainting, still theymade all the tumult which is proper in such cases;--George upsetting awash-pitcher, and breaking two tumblers, in the warmth of his humanity;and various ladies in the cabin, hearing that somebody had fainted,crowded the state-room door, and kept out all the air they possiblycould, so that, on the whole, everything was done that could beexpected.

Poor Cassy! when she recovered, turned her face to the wall, and weptand sobbed like a child,--perhaps, mother, you can tell what she wasthinking of! Perhaps you cannot,--but she felt as sure, in that hour,that God had had mercy on her, and that she should see her daughter,--asshe did, months afterwards,--when--but we anticipate.