+ ~ -
Please report pronunciation problems here. Select and sample other voices. Options Pause Play
Report an Error

in no American court of justice could
a white man be convicted of crime on
the evidence of a man of colour. He
knew that none of his slaves could give
evidence against him, even if they had
witnessed every particular of his crime.
He tied his own horse to a tree, and walked
leisurely to the gate of the field. Leaning
over it he perceived some of his own negroes
at work in the adjoining ground; amongst
them an old negro, whom he knew by
experience that he could intimidate and cow,
more easily even than the others. He
beckoned this slave to him, and said coolly,
as if it were the most natural announcement
in the world, "I have just shot a man
down; you must come along, Uncle Ned,
and help me to carry the body into the ice-
house." It was late in the summer season
and the ice-house at Glenoak was nearly
empty. Quite empty it never was. With
some difficulty Cartwright and the slave
removed the upper layer of ice, and buried
the body underneath it. "And now look ye
here," said Cartwright, "if ever you utter
to a human being about what's in that ice-
house, or what I've told you, or what you've
just been doing, I'll flay you alive and roast
you. afterwards. All the same I won't
have any talking, or hinting, or winking.
Do you understand? If you don't teach
your eyes to forget what they've seen, I'll
gouge 'em out. If you don't teach your
ears to forget what they've heard I'll cut
'em off. If you don't teach your tongue
to be silent, I'll tear it out by the roots.
So now you know what I mean. Get
along with you." Before burying John
Ackland's body, however, the murderer
had rifled the dead man, and
re-possessed himself of the forged notes which
John Ackland (as Cartwright well knew)
carried in the belt lent to him by
Cartwright expressly for that purpose.
Unluckily for Mr. Cartwright, while he was
engaged in this operation his eye was
tempted by what Mr. D'Oiley had called
"that very re-markable watch, sir," and
he hastily thrust John Ackland's chronometer
into his own pocket. But for this
superfluous felony, in all human probability
Philip Cartwright would have carried
safely with him to his own grave the
secret of his great crime.

The first question asked by the present
writer of the Virginian gentleman from
whom he received the details of this
strange story was, "How did Philip
Cartwright die?"

"Well, you see the law couldn't reach
him in Texas, which wasn't then annexed.
But John Ackland's cousin, and some of
his friends in the North, and some down
here in Virginia, constituted themselves a
committee of vengeance. They were sworn
to have Philip Cartwright's life, but to
have it according to law. They found him
in Texas, not far over the border, where
he had set up a faro bank; and they
disguised themselves, and they frequented the
bank, and they played against him, and
betted with him, till one night they
succeeded in tempting him over the border, on
the chance of plucking a fat pigeon there;
but the officers of justice were waiting for
him there; and by gad, sir, we arrested
him, and tried him all square, and hanged
him hard."

"And his daughter?"

"Poor girl, she didn't long survive her
journey to Texas, and the rough life she
had of it there. It was better for her.
She was spared the knowledge of her
father's guilt, and the humiliation of his
death, and she loved the blackguard to the

      Now Ready, price 5s. 6d., bound in green cloth,
                        THE FIRST VOLUME
                    OF THE NEW SERIES OF
                      ALL THE YEAR ROUND.
                   To be had of all Booksellers.

    MESSRS. CHAPPELL AND CO. have great pleasure
in announcing that MR. CHARLES DICKENS will resume
       and conclude his interrupted series of FAREWELL
        READINGS at St. James's Hall, London, early in
                               the New Year.
   The Readings will be TWELVE in NUMBER, and none
                    will take place out of London.
        All communications to be addressed to Messrs.
         CHAPPELL and Co., 60, New Bond-street, W.