CHAPTER XVII. "In my warmer youth, Ere my heart's bloom was soiled and brushed away, I had great dreams of mighty things to come; Of conquest, whether by the sword or pen I knew not; but some conquest I would have, I find youth's dreams are but the flutterings LOWELL. PHILIP, an elderly slave, noted for his fidelity and general good character, had been appointed as Eleanor's attendant in her rambles over the plantation. His presence was not intrusive, for he usually lingered at a respectful distance, although near enough to answer the young lady's questions. She one day wandered in a new direction. Following a small branch of Deer River, she saw something which looked like an establishment upon rather a small scale. Although very unpretending in its appearance, it was evidently superior to the little huts occupied by the field negroes. A small wigwam structure, a neat garden, and two or three booths for domestic animals, met her questioning glance. Turning to Philip, she asked "Is this place inhabited?" Philip, with a profound obeisance, replied― "Yes, ma'am, a berry queer man lib dere; dey call um a hermit." "A hermit," exclaimed Eleanor, stopping suddenly, "a real hermit" "Yes, ma'am, um lives all by umself; no wife, no child, no slave. Um takes care of umself." Eleanor was now attentively surveying the premises. No one appeared. "Um's gone fishing, I reckon," said Philip; "don't you want to see de inside of de hut?” "Would the hermit be willing?" "Yes, um never fastens doors, always willing to let folks see de place." Guided by Philip, Eleanor walked through the 'little garden, and approached the habitation. A huge rock seemed to form one side; rude boards and strong boughs interlaced with bark, were ingeniously fastened to the trunks of two large trees, which, very conveniently for the hermit's purposes, were growing against the rock. entering this sylvan abode, she perceived that the rock was hollow, and that the hermit had thus profited by the assistance rendered by nature. On His dwelling comprised wooden and the rocky. used as a store-room. two compartments, the The cave was evidently The other division served for kitchen, parlor and dormitory. Upon a small table lay some books, and a writing-desk; books also heavily loaded several swing shelves. "Dat desk," Philip said, " was always locked, but folks might look at dem books." Zimmerman! He, surely, although a lover of solitude, was a friend to society. Why had he accompanied the hermit to his lone retreat? Sir Walter Scott! Ah! who would dwell contentedly in a cave after contemplating the fascinating delineations of character sketched by the great poet and novelist? Who, after a perusal of his works, would become a recluse or a misanthrope? Ossian! thou dubious, darkling poet, with thy brave men and beauteous women, couldst not thou lure the solitary man from his cell? Saintine! in thy dear little book, thy beautiful Picciola, thou hast indeed depictured the charms of seclusion with an engrossing subject of study and reflection; but hast thou not represented the society of Teresa as incomparably more captivating? And oh, ye heavy authors, with your ponderous tomes! Greek and Latin poets, English essayists, and German theologians! did ye do aught to induce the occupant of the humble hermitage to ex change the haunts of men for this sequestered dell? While Eleanor was exploring the library of the hermit, and Philip was training the vines which had crept through the interstices of the hut, a slight rustling was heard in the vicinity, and the next moment was marked by the entrance of the proprietor. Eleanor dropped the book which she was examining, and experienced the very unpleasant consciousness that her face was becoming crimson, as she saw that instead of a decrepit old man, the hermit was quite young, of noble although slender figure, and of fine countenance. The awkwardness of her position was instantly apparent. She soon rallied, and said 66 "I hope, sir, that this is no intrusion; my attendant assured me that the place was open for inspection." The young man, with a pleasant smile, replied, "You are welcome, lady, but pray be seated; my old friend should not have allowed you to stand all this time." Bringing from the cave a block of wood, he gayly offered it to his visitor, who, imbibing the contagion of his sportive mood, accepted it with as much complaisance as if it had been a luxurious ottoman. He then threw himself upon the stump of a tree which had been left standing within the precincts of his building. "Lady," said the hermit, after a short pause, "how often do you speak with your tongue?" "Indeed, sir,” replied Eleanor, with an expression in which mirth, surprise and resentment were strangely combined, "I keep no account of the matter; but why ask such a question?" "Because I thought the tongue superfluous in your case; your thoughts are sufficiently well expressed by your eyes." "And what," asked Eleanor, her mouth twisting into a comic smile, "and what have my eyes said to you?" "I will tell you, gentle lady. They said, 'What can have induced you to quit the world for this solitude?' Have not I rightly interpreted their language?" “Oh, I cannot give you credit for uncommon powers of perception; the eyes of any visitor would have proposed the same query, and the most obtuse hermit would have penetration enough to see what was so obvious." "There, that is always my fate," said the hermit, in a mock pathetic tone, "people will give me no credit for my wondrous powers." He paused, sighed, and with unfeigned seriousness continued, “I am glad to see you, lady, for I am |