Vesta started up in bed and listened. It seemed to her that there were
footsteps, but they passed away, and she listened in vain for any other
sounds, till sleep fell deep and dreamless upon her, like black Lethe
winding through a desert wedding-day.
CHAPTER XXI.
LONG SEPARATIONS.
Vesta was awakened by Roxy, Virgie, and her mother all standing around
her bed at once, exclaiming something unintelligible together. It was
late morning, the whole family having slept long, after the several
experiences of two such days, and the sun was shining through the great
trees before Teackle Hall and burnishing the windows, so that Vesta
could hardly see.
"The kitchen servants have run away," Mrs. Custis shrieked, on Vesta's
request that her mother only should talk. "Old Hominy is gone, and has
taken all her herbs and witcheries with her; and all the young children
bred in the kitchen, Ned and Vince, the boys, and little Phillis, the
baby, they, too, are gone."
"I heard a strange cry or howl last night, as I dropped to sleep," Vesta
exclaimed, rubbing her eyes.
"Dear missy," cried Virgie, falling upon the pillow, "it was your poor
dog Turk; his throat has been cut upon the lawn."
"Yes, missy," Roxy blubbered, "poor Turk lies in his blood. There is
nobody to get breakfast but Virgie and me. Indeed, we did not know about
it."
"That is not very likely," said the suspicious Mrs.
Pages:
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296