204 A BAD NIGHT'S WORK. 



repaired to the postmaster's house, where Jack the driver 

 was in waiting. 



The business was concluded, and Pompey, mounted on 

 the mare, had regained the vicinity of Squire Ramson's 

 house, when the beast made a sudden start and threw 

 him on the ground. A shot had been fired, and loud 

 groans disturbed the calm of the night. To jump to his 

 feet, and hasten in the direction of the sufferer, was the 

 affair of a moment with the negro poacher. 



Before him, at the foot of a tree, a man lay prostrate 

 on the ground, murmuring a prayer, and in the last agonies 

 of death. Poinpey recognized in the dying wretch his 

 brother Caesar, mortally wounded by a rifle ball, and 

 bathed in blood. 



" Oh, is it you, my dearest brother ? Is it you 1 " he 

 exclaimed in frantic tones. "Who has done you this 

 evil turn ? Was it Slouch, the overseer 1 Tell me, tell 

 me ; for if it was he, I will kill him ! " 



Csesar made a sign to his brother to place him with his 

 back against the tree ; and then, in broken accents, and at 

 intervals, the unfortunate negro contrived to tell his 

 melancholy tale. His wife, about two hours before, had 

 been taken seriously ill, and he therefore started off in 

 haste, without saying a word to any one, in search of the 

 district surgeon. When near the bean-field he caught 

 sight of the fire burning in the pan. Curiosity attracted 

 him towards it, and, despite the kicks and struggles of 

 the horse he rode, he had advanced almost up to the hedge. 

 Suddenly he heard the report of a gun, and felt himself 

 struck by a ball. At his scream of agony a poacher had 

 rushed to his assistance, and, throwing himself on his 

 knees, implored him to pardon his fatal error : seeing the 



