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Les diagrammes sulvants illustrent la mAthode. 12 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 tMCMOCOrt HSOUITION TBT CHAtT (ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No. 2) y^PPLMO INVOE Inc 18SJ East Moin Sim* RochMtw. Nm Yor* 14609 USA (716) 462 - 0300 - PhonT^ (716) 286 - SS69 - rox i tr?.Avx^ .7 / C \ y ^tk:*::; t ; i '"Max, tcu are goimo to stat hebb?'" THE CRISIS BY WINSTON CHURCHILL -^ AOTHO. O, "UICHAED CABVEL." " THK C.«,BITT.- .XC. WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY HOWARD CHANDLER CHRISTY 7^edaionmust^ietm^,aini^ Grra, Britain Uniied StaUs. orthe TORONTO : THE COPP, CLARK COMPANY, LIMITED, 1901 /9c)/ 258083 ■ooorAuf to Afll e( Hm PM^hma na n._>^. iUnirtir o( Acfiflottcn, Co J. B. G. Ain> L. M. G. CONTENTS BOOK I oiAPm I. Which deals with Origina 11. The Mole . . . ] UL The Unattainable Simplicity IV. Black Cattle . . • • • V. The First Spark passes . VI. Silas Whipple Vn. Callers ..... Vm. BeUegarde .... IX. A Quiet Sunday in Locust Street X. The Little House . XL The Invitation XII. "Miss Jinny" Xm. The Party . . MSB 1 13 22 29 42 48 56 63 74 83 90 94 106 L IL in. IV. V. VI. vn. vin. rx. BOOK II Raw Material . Abraham Lincoln . In which Stephen learns Something The Question The Crisis . Glencoe . An Excursion The Colonel is warned Signs of the Times Richter's Scar vii 116 123 133 141 148 161 177 186 192 205 vin CONTENTS oaArrra XI. XII. XIII. XIV. XV. XVI. XVII. XVIII. XIX. XX. XXI. XXII XXIII How a Prince came Into which a Potentate comes At Mr. firinsmade's Gate The Breach becomes too Wide Mutterings .... The Guns of Sumter Camp Jackson The Stone that is rejected . The Tenth of May. In the Arsenal The Stampede The Straining of Another Friendship Of Clarence ... 218 220 228 241 260 266 261 274 288 204 810 824 832 I. II. HI. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. XI. xn. xni. xrv. XV. XVI. BOOK III Introducing a Capitalist News from Clarence The Scourge of War The List of Sixty . The Auction . • • • Eliphalet plays his Trumps . With the Armies of the West A Strange Meeting Bellegarde Once More . In Judge Whipple's Office . Lead, Kindly Light The Last Card From the Letters of Major Stephen The Same, Continued . The Man of Sorrows Annapolis • . . . firice 888 352 367 377 385 400 414 427 438 449 466 471 477 487 499 516 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS "'Max, you are going to stay here?'" . . . '^ Frtmtinpitce "' Please find Mr. Hood,' directed V.r. Colfax " .... 'Ts "'He's a bachelor,' said Vir^i- a; .what use has he got for it?'" . 6 " 'So you have come at last to try again, Mr. Brice?'" . . 114 « ' If you answer back, out you go, like that I ' " . . . .170 They told me you were not coming I '" 286 " The Captain was given an audience " 339 "Twice Stephen shook him so that his head beat upon the t»^l«" • . . . 473 It THE CRISIS BOOK I CHAPTER I WHICH DEALS WITH ORIGINS Faithfully to relate how Eliphalet Hopper came to f, t«^?il ". '° ^^'^•' ' ««°^^- Mr. Hop?^r "^0^? to tell the story now, v .en his daughter-in-irris not^hv. and sometimes he tells it in her oreSnce, f or ^18 a sham* less and determined old party Ao denies the divine ri^hi Wh^rCt^r. '*'''° T'" '« ^*^«^i°«? tobacco "^^' When Ehphalet came to town, his ron's wife Mr. Samuel D. (or S. Dwyer, as she is beginTng to cail he"! self), WM not born. Gentlemen of cfvalier and Puri^ descent had not yet begun to arrive at the Planters' Hou^ to by hunting shirts and broad rims, belts and bo W and (fepart quietly for Kansas, there to indulge inTw most pUurable of Anglo-Saxon pastimes, a free fighf to'th?Zp7oXV'^^^^^^ '" "^"^ ^^ '"^^ '"^^^'^'''^ m„Th^^V° *«^"phalefc'8 arrival, -a picture which has ^he^tend!!'iI^?h^^°^ ^? it ^«*^°^^ *^« ^^^^^^^ ^^y as ne stands m the prow of the great steamboat Louinam thinlTa ;^/ r^T' '?"'"^"^' *"d looks witrsome! f k1 V . .»»?«Je88 disquiet on the chocolate waters of the Mississippi There have been other sieh^ s7nce cCi^T^^; "'"a' "^^'.' *^r« disgust:? a kTa! cmisette lad more. A certain deck on the Paducah. black cattle. Eliphalet possessed a fortunate tempera- # J^ i 2 THE CRISIS ment. The deck was dark, and the smell of the wretches confined there was worse than it should have been. And the incessant weeping of some of the women was annoy- ing, inasmuch as it drowned many of the profane com- munications of the overseer who was showing Eliphal' t the sights. Then a fine-Hnened planter from down river had come in during the conversation, and paying no attention to the overseer's salute cursed them all into silence, and left. Eliphalet had ambition, which is not a wholly undesir- able quality. He began to wonder how it would feel to own a few of these valuable fellow-creatures. He reached out and touched lightly a young mulatto woman who sat beside him with an infant in her arms. The peculiar dumb expression on her face was lost on Eliphalet. The overseer had laughed coarsely. " What, skeered on 'em ? " said he. And seizing the girl by the cheek, gave it a cruel twinge that brought a cry out of her. Eliphalet had reflected upon this incident after he had bid the overseer good-by at Cairo, and had seen that piti- ful coffle piled aboard a steamer for New Orleans. And the result of his reflections was, that some day he would like to own s'aves. A dome of smoke like a mushroom hung over the city, visible from far down the river, motionless in the summer air. A long line of steamboats — white, patient animals — was tethered alon? the levee, and the Louuiana pres- ently swung in her bow toward a gap in this line, where a mass of people was awaiting her arrival. Some Invisible force lifted Eliphalet's eyes to the upper deck, where they rested, as if by appointment, on the trim figure of the young man in command of the Loumana. He was very young for the captain of a large New Orleans packet. When his lips moved, something happened. Once he raised his voice, and a negro stevedore rushed frantically aft, as if he had received the end of a lightning-bolt. Admiration burst from the passengers, and one man cried out Captain Brent's age — it was thirty-two. wa^^^ms9fSt^ssmmssfr-'^^m8WFW''mi WHICH DEALS WITH ORIGINS $ Eliphalet snapped his teeth toirethftr H« «,«= * words to some passeuMts of fashion tL\j parting were taking thSr lugfa^ t^ S^rr'ri Je^s ^fXnn? JreeS"gffi^J„V^.re?r„ f^: X^^^^^^^ ^nvermen; dodging the mni:f^; Se LTdraTror SScr^whTiteton^rS^/ *'if '" peopl/ofZpo".^ S^crtdTo^th ^rSTL'^t^ %VZ ^"1 lump/from n.ufh LvelTd nl'/as^dirtyCtKreT f£-,rg^--»-^7;l^^S ^«=iSnV?Sn-V-oSSS him were busv elprlrs TirJfK +1. • v^u ever}- sme of evidence and FlfnWf i^®''' suspenders much in made the rear guard ^ °* "^ ^'^^^^'^ ^^ ''^grged horses Eliphalet mopped his brow. The mules seemed to have Hm^ 4 THE CRISIS aroused in him some sense of his atomity, where the sight of the pillar of smoke and of the black cattle had failed. The feeling of a stranger in a strange land was upon him at last. A strange land, indeed I Could it be one with his native New England ? Did Congress assemble from the antipodes ? Wasn't the great, ugly river and dirty city at the end of the earth, to be written about in Boston journals ? Turning in the doorway, he saw to his astonishment a great store, with high ceilings supported by columns. The oor was stacked high with bales of dry goods. Beside him was a sign in gold lettering, " Carvel and Company, Wholesale Dry Goods." And lastly, looking down upon him with a quizzical expression, was a gentleman. There was no mistaking the gentleman. He was cool, which Eliphalet was not. And the fact is the more remarkable because the gentleman was attired according to the fash- ion of the day for men of his age, in a black coat with a deal of ruffled shirt showing, and a heavy black stock wound around his collar. He had a white mustache, and a goatee, and white hair under his black felt hat. His face was long, his nose straight, and the sweetness of his smile had a strange effect upon Eliphalet, who stood on one foot. " Well, sonny, scared of mules, are you ? " The speech is a stately drawl very different from the nasal twang of Eliphalet's bringing up. " Reckon you don't come from anywhere round here ? " "No, sir," said Eliphalet. "From Willesden, Massa- chusetts." " Come in on the Louisiana f " " Yes, sir." But why this politeness ? The elderly gentleman lighted a cigar. The noise of the rushing mules had now become a distant roar, like a whirl- wind which has swept by. But Eliphalet did not stir. " Friends in town ? " inquired the gentleman at length. " No, sir," sighed Mr. Hopper. * At this point of the conversation a crisp step sounded from behind, and the wonderful smile came again on the surface. WHICH DEALS WITH ORIGINS $ i„m^°"l'°'f ?°*°°«^'" ^^ a voice which made Eliphalet ml^!!^' ?tP**'5 ^^^*'" °"«<^ *h« Colonel, without cere- mony, "and how do you find yourself to-day suh v A ^n^ ^tXi^'^T/ )^" ^^^ °«^ l^k for ^ou 80 80on^» "Tolluble, Colonel, toUuble," said the voub^ man graspmg the Colonel's hand. « Well, Colonel^I ^w winted/' "^ ''** ' ^'' *^^ «--*y bies o? gtdi JTou " Ephum I » cried the Colonel, diving toward a counter where glasses were set out, -a custom few t^Siphalet ~ "Ephum, some of that very particular clneTritte^ den - .nt me over from Kentucky last v^eek." -,. A ^^\^y^ with hair as white as the Colonel's appeared from behind the partition. ^' I lowed ^ou'd want it, Marse Comyn, when I seed de Cap n ijommy' said he, with the privilege of an old ser vant Indeed the bottle wae beneath his^arm. ine Colonel smiled. thrc"?E' ^''"''' ""'"' ^*P'°'" "^^ ^P^^°»' »« he drew Sa^'^EpSum r^^^'" ^^^^^ '^^ ^'^P*^^"- " ^^^ ^phum I "Yes, «aA." "How's my little sweetheart, Ephum ? " "Bress your soul, sah," said Ephum, his face fallincr perceptibly, "Bress your soul, sah, fiiss Jinny'rdone gon! to Halcyondde, in Kaintuck, to see her grandma ^cSe Ephum ain't de same nigger when she's aw!y . " mel? Vtr Lt?^s"'^ ^"^^ ^^^"^^ - '"-^ ^-PPoint. I brnlltli*!" «*^d^he, stronglv, "if that ain't too bad I LJ ^ n,^"" * .5""°^^ ^°" ^'«°» New Orleans, which PllTnd ifli t^'°' '^^°^' ^^"^^^«» ^«^-«^- «"* oK " T^*,* ^ •^'"' ^'Sre," said the Colonel, heartily. « And she shall write you the prettiestnoto of thaiiks you eVer got " e THE CRISIS "Bless her pretty face," cried the Captain. "Her health. Colonel! Here's a long life to Miss Virginia Carvel, and may she rule forever I How old did you say this was ? " he asked, looking into the glass. " Over half a century," said Colonel Carvel. " If it came from the ruins of Pompeii," cried Captain Brent, " it might be worthy of her ! " " What an idiot you are about that child, Lige," said the Colonel, who was not hiding his pleasure. The Colonel could hide nothing. « You ruin her I " The bluflf young Captain put down his glass to laugh. " Rum her ! " he exclaimed. " Her pa don't ruin her I eh, Ephum ? Her pa don't ruin her I " « Lawsy, Marse Lige, I reckon he's wuss'n any." " Ephum," said the Colonel, pulling his goatee thought- fully, "you're a damned impertinent nigger. I vow I'll sell you South one of these days. Have you taken that letter to Mr. Renault ? " He winked at his friend as the old darkey faded into the darkness of the store, and con- tinued : " Did I ever tell you about Wilson Peale's por- trait of my grandmother, Dorothy Carvel, that I saw this summer at my brother Daniel's, in Pennsylvania? Jinny's foing to look something like her, sir. Um I She was a ne woman. Black hair, though. Jinny's is brown, like her Ma's." The Colonel handed a cigar to Captain Brent, and ht one himself. " Daniel has a book my grandfather wrote, mostly about her. Lord, I remember her I She was the queen-bee of the family while she lived. I wish some of us had her spirit." " Colonel," remarked Captain Lige, « what's this I heard on the levee just now about your shootin' at a man named Babcock on the steps here ? " The Colonel became very grave. His face seemed to grow longer as he pulled his goatee. " He was standing'rig^t where you are, sir," he replied (Captain Lige moved), "and he proposed that 1' should buy his influence." " What did you do ? " Colonel Carvel laughed quietly at the recollection. '^S^^VW^ WHICH DEALS WITH ORIGINS "Shucks," said he, "I just pushed him into the street, gave him a little start, and put a bullet past his ear, just to let the trash know the sound of it. Then RusseU went down and bailed me out." The Captain shook with laughter. But Mr. Eliphalet Hopper's eyes were glued to the mild-mannered man who told the story, and his hair rose under his hat. "By the way, Lige, how's that boy, Tato? Some- how after I let you have him on the Louisiana, I thought Id made a mistake to let him run the river. Easter's afraid he'll lose the little religion she taught him." It was the Captain's turn to be grave. *' I tell you what, Colonel," said he ; " we have to have hands, of course. But somehow I wish this business of slavery had never been started ! " "Sir," said the Colonel, with some force, "God made the sons of Ham the servants of Japheth's sons forever and forever." "Well, well, we won't quarrel about that, sir," said Brent, quickly. "If they aU treated slaves as you do, there wouldn't be any cry from Boston-way. And as for me, I need hands. I shall see you again. Colonel." "Take supper with me to-night, Lige," said Mr. Carvel. « I reckon you'll find it rather lonesome without Jinny." " Awful lonesome," said the Captain. " But you'll show me her letters, won't you ? " He started out, and ran against Eliphalet. " Hello ! " he cried. " Who's this ? " " A young Yankee you landed here this morning, Lige," said the Colonel. " What do you think of him ? " " Humph ! " exclaimed the Captain. " He has no friends in town, and he is looking for em- ployment. Isn't that so, sonny?" asked the Colonel, "Yes." "Come, Lige, would you take him?" said Mr. Carvel. The young Captain looked into Eliphalet's face. The dart that shot from his eyes was of an aggressive hoo- • THE CRISIS esty; and Mr. Hopper's, after an attempt at defiance, were dropped. "No," said the Captain. "Why not, Lige?" " Well, for one thing, he's been listening," said Captain Lige, as he departed. Colonel Carvel began to hum softly to himself : ** * One said it was an owl, and the other he said nay, One said it was a church with the steeple torn awav. Look a' there now I ' ' »' I reckon you're a rank abolitionist,*' said he to Eliphalet, abruptly. '^ " I don't see any particular harm in keepin' slaves," Mr. Hopper replied, shifting to the other foot. Whereupon the Colonel stretched his legs apart, seized his goatee, pulled his head down, and gazed at him for some time from under his eyebrows, so searchingly that the blood flew to Mr. Hopper's fleshy face. He mopped It with a dark-red handkerchief, stared at everything in the place save the gentleman in front of him, and won- dered whether he had ever in his life been so uncomfort- able. Then he smiled sheepishly, hated himself, and beiran to hate the Colonel. " Ever hear of the Liberator f " " No, sir," said Mr. Hopper. "Where do you come from?" This was downright directness, from which there was no escape. "Willesden, Massachusetts." " Umph 1 And never heard of Mr. Garrison ? " " I've had to work all my life." " What can you do, sonny ? " "I callate to sweep out a store. I have kept books," Mr. Hopper vouchsafed. "Would you like work here ?" asked the Colonel, kindly. The green eyes looked up swiftly, and down ajrain. " What'U you give me ? " The good man was surprised. " Well," said he, " seven dollars a week." WHICH DEALS WITH ORIGINS Many a time in after life had the Colonel reason to think over thia scene. He was a man the singleness of whose motives could not be questioned. The one and sufficient reason for giving work to a homeless boy, from the hated state of the Liberator, was charity. The Colonel had his moods, like many another worthy man. The small specks on the horizon sometimes grow into the hugest of thunder clouds. And an act of charity, out of the wisdom of God, may produce on this earth either good or evil. Eliphalet closed with the bargain. Ephum was called and told to lead the recruit to the pre^nce of Mr. Hood, the manager. And he spent the remainder of a hot day checking invoices in the shipping entrance on Second Street. It is not our place here to chronicle Eliphalet's faults. Whatever he may have been, he was not lazy. But he was an anomaly to the rest of the young men in the store, for those were days when political sentiments decided fervent loves or hatreds. In two days was Eliphalet's reputation for wisdom made. During that period he opened his mouth to speak but twice. The first was an answer to a pointless question of Mr. Barbo's {cetat 26), to the eflFect that he, Eliphalet Hopper, was a Pierce Democrat, who looked with complacency on the extension of slavery. This was wholly satisfactory, and saved the owner of these sentiments a broken head. The other time Eliphalet spoke was to ask Mr. Barbo to direct him to a boarding- house. ° "I reckon," Mr. Barbo reflected, "that you'll want one of them Congregational boarding-houses. We've got a heap of Yankees in the town, and they all flock together and pray together. I reckon you'd ruther go to Miss Crane's nor anywhere." Forthwith to Miss Crane's Eliphalet went. An'' that lady, being a Greek herself, knew a Greek when she saw one. The kind-hearted Barbo lingered in the gathering darkness to witness the game which ensued, a game dear to all New Englanders, comical to Barbo. The two contest- 10 THE CRISIS ants ealevlaUd. Barbo reckoned^ and put his money on his new-found fellow-clerk. Eliphalet, indeed, never, showed to better advantage. The shyness he had med with the Colonel, and the taciturnity practised on his fellow-clerks, he slipped off like coat and waistcoat for the battle. The scene was in the front yard of the third house in Dorcas Row. Everybody knows where Dorcas Row was. Miss Crane, tall, with all the severity of side curls and bombazine, stood like a stone lioness at the gate. In the background, by the steps, the boarder^ sat, an interested group. Eliphalet girded up his loins, and sharpened his nasal twang to cope with hers. The pre- liminary sparring was an exchange of compliments, and deceived neither party. It seemed rather to heighten mutual respect. " You be from Willesden, eh ? " said Crane. " I calcu- •late you know the Salters." If the truth were known, this evidence of an apparent omniscience rather staggered Eliphalet. But training stood by him, and he showed no dismay. Yes, he knew the Salters, and had drawed many a load out of Hiram Salters' wood-lot to help pay for his schooling. ** Let me see," said Miss Crane, innocently ; " who was it one of them Salters girls married, and lived across the way from the meetin'-house ? " " Spauldin'," was the prompt reply. " Wal, I want t' know I " cried the spinster ; " not Ezra Spauldin'?" Eliphalet nodded. That nod was one of infinite shrewd- ness which commended itself to Miss Crane. These cour- tesies, far from making awkward the material discussion which followed, did not affect it in the least. " So you want me to board you ? " said she, as if in con- sternation. Eliphalet calculated, if they could come to terms. And Mr. Barbo keyed himself to enjoyment. " Single gentlemen," said she, " pay as high as twelve dollars. And she added that they had no cause to com- plain of her table. M'^mi:^-'}^m WHICH DEALS WITH ORIGINS 11 Eliphalet said he guessed he*d have to go somewhere else. Upon this the lady vouchsafed the explanation that those gentlemen had high positions and rented her large rooms. Since Mr. Hopper was from Willesden and knew the Salters, she would be willing to take him for less. Eliphalet said bluntly he would give three and a half. Barbo gasped. This particular kind of courage was wholly beyond him. Half an hour later Eliphalet carried his carpet-bag up three flights and put it down in a tiny bedroom under the eaves, still pulsing with heat waves. Here he was to live, and eat at Miss Crane's table for the consideration of four dollars a week. Such is the story of the humble beginning of one sub- stantial prop of the American Nation. And what a hack- neyed story it is I How many other young men from the East have travelled across the mountains and floated down the rivers to enter those strange cities of the West, Che growth of which was like Jonah's gourd. Two centuries before, when Charles Stuart walked out of a window in Whitehall Palace to die ; when the great English race was in the throes of a Civil War ; when the Stem and the Gay slew each other at Naseby and Marston Moor, two currents flowed across the Atlantic to the New World. Then the Stern men found the stem climate, and the Gay found the smiling climate. After many years the streams began to move again, — westward, ever westward. Over the ever blue mountains from the wonderland of Virginia into the greater wonder- land of Kentucky. And through the marvels of the Inland Seas, and by white conestogas threading flat forests and floating over wide prairies, until the two tides met in a maelstrom as fierce as any in the great tawny torrent of the strange Father of Waters. A city founded by Pierre Laclede, a certain adventurous subject of Louis who dealt in furs, and who knew not Marly or Versailles, was to be the place of the mingling of the tides. After cycles of sepa- ration, Puritan and Cavalier united on this clay-bank in *■'■'■} la THE CRISIS nL^i!""?* PttTohaae, and swept westward together. Like the struggle of two great rivers when they meet, the waters for a while were dangerous. mS rS^ST^^J*^"'**^^' \"?**°« '*»« Puritans, at Mws Crane s. 1 he dishes were to his taste. Brown bread and beans and pies were plentiful, for it was a land of f^^!J*^- x^^^J'^".^' ^^ P""*«°» ^«™ there, and th^ at- •f?^^^^^5-.^^'''*^'^°"?''®«*tional Church. And may t be added in justice to jlr. Hopper, that he became "ci the least devout of the boarders. CHAPTER II THE MOLE For some Vbara, while Stephen A. Douglas and Frank- lin Pierce and other gentlemen of prominence were play- ing at bowls on the United States of America; while Kansas was furnishing excitement free of charge to any citizen who loved sport, Mr. Eliphalet Hopper was at work like the industrious mole, undergrouncL It is safe to affirm that Colonel Carvel forgot his new hand as soon as he had turned him over to Mr. Hood, the manager. As for Mr. Hopper, he was content. We can ill afford to dissect motives. Genius is willing to lay the foundations of her structure unobserved. At first it was Mr. Barbo alone who perceived Elipha- let's greatness, — Mr. Barbo, whose opinions were so easily had that they counted for nothing. The other clerks, to say the least, found the newcomer uncompanionable. He had no time for skylarking, the heat of the day meant nothing to him, and he was never sleepy. He learned the stock as if by intuition, and such was his strict attention to business that Mr. Hood was heard to say, privatelv, he did not like the looks of it. A young man should have other interests. And then, although he would not hold it against him, he had heard that Mr. Hopper was a teacher in Mr. Davitt's Sunday School. Because he did not discuss his ambitions at dinner with the other clerks in the side entry, it must not be thought that Eliphalet was without other interests. He was like- wise too shrewd to be dragged into political discussions at the boarding-house table. He listened imperturbably to the outbursts against the Border Ruffian, and smiled when Mr. Abner Reed, in an angry passion, asked him U '•■T5i. _-r. "-•- V j£ rjiEt u THE CRISIS to deolare whether or not he was a friend of the Divine Institution. After a while they forgot about him (all save Mitw Crane), which was what Mr. Hopper of all things desired. One other friend besides Miss Crane did Eliphalet take unto himself, wherein he showed much discrimination. This friend was none other than Mr. Davitt, min* ter for nian^ years of the Congregational Church. 'or Mr. Davitt was a good man, zealous in his work, unpre- tentious, and kindlv. More than once Eliphalet went to his home to tea, and was pressed to talk about himself and his home life. The minister and his wife were invariably astonished, after their guest was gone, at the meagre result of their inquiries. If Love had ever entered such a discreet soul as that into which we are prying, he used a back entrance. Even Mr. Barbo's incuines failed in the discovery of any young person with viuom Eliphalet "kept company." What- ever the notions abroad concerning him, he was admittedly a model. There are many kinds of models. With some young ladies at the Sunday School, indeed, he had a dis- tant bowing acquaintance. They spoke of him jk. he young man who knew the Bible as thoroughly as Mr. Davitt himself. The only time that Mr. Hopper was discovered showing embarrassment was when Mr. Davitt held his hand before them longer than necessary on the church steps. Mr. Hopper was not sentimental. However fascinating the subject, I do not propose to make a whole book about Eliphalet. Yet sidelights on the life of every great man are interesting. And there are a few incidents in his early career which have not gotten into the subscription biographical Encycloptedias. In several of these volumes, to be sure, we may see steel engravings of him, true likenesses all. His was the type of face which is the glory of the steel engraving, — square and solid, as a corner-stone should be. The very clothes he wore were made for the steel engraving, stiff and wiry m texture, with sharp angles at the shoulders, and som- bre in hue, as befit such grave creations. THE MOLE 1« Let us go back to a certain fine morning in the Septem- ber of the year 1867, wheu Mr. Hopper had arrived, all unnoticed, at the age of two and thirty. Industry had told. He was now the manager's assistant; and, be it said in passing, knew more about the stock than Mr. Hood himself. On this particular morning, about nine o'clock, he was stacking bolts of woollen goods near thut delec- table counter where the Colonel was wont to regale his nrincipal customers, when a vision appeared in the door. Visions were rare at Carvel & Company's. This one was followed by an old negress with leathery wrinkles, whose smile was joy incarnate. They entered the store, paused at the entrance to the Colonel's private office, and sur- veyed it with dismay. " 'Clar t' goodness, Miss Jinny, yo' pa ain't heah 1 An' whah's Ephum, dat black good-:o'-nuthin' I " Miracle number one, — Mr. Hopper stopped work and stared. The vision was searching the store with her eyes, and pouting. " How mean of Pa I " she exclaimed, " when I took all this trouble to surprise him, not to be here ! Where are they all? Where's Ephum? Where's Mr. Hood ? " The eyes lighted on Eliphalet. His blood was sluggish, but it could be made to beat faster. The ladies he had met at Miss Crane's were not of this description. As he came forward, embarrassment made him shamble, and for the first time in his life he was angrily conscious of a poor figure. Her first question dashed out the spark of his zeal. "Oh," said she, "are you employed here?" Thoughtless Virginia I You little know the man you have insulted by your haucrhty drawl. "Yes." "Then find Mr. Carvel, won't you, please? And tell him that his daughter has come from Kentucky, and is waiting for him." ** I callate Mr. Carvel won't be here this morning," said Eliphalet. He went back to the pile of dry goods, ano began to work. But he was unable to meet the displeas- ure in her face. 16 THE CRISIS I i ; ** What is your name?" Miss Carvel demanded. " Hopper.*'^ "Then, Mr. Hopper, please find Ephum, or Mr. F-»od." Two more bolts were taken off the truck. Out o. -he corner of his eye he watched her, and she seemed very tall, like her father. She was taller than he, in fact. " I ain't a servant. Miss Carvel," he said, with a mean- ing glance at the negress. " Laws, Miss Jinny," cried she, "I may 's 'ell find Ephum. I knows he's loafin' somewhar hereabouts. An' I ain't seed him dese five month." And she started for the back of this store. " Mammy I " The old woman stopped short. Eliphalet, electrified, looked up and instantly down again. " You say you are employed by Mr. Carvel, and refuse to do what I ask ? " "I ain't a servant," Mr. Hopper repeated doggedly. He felt that he was in the right, — and perhaps he was. It was at this critical juncture in the proceedings that a young man stepped lightly into the store behind Miss Jinny. Mr. Hopper's eye was on him, and had taken in the details of his costume before realizing the import of his presence. He was perhaps twenty, and wore a coat that sprung in at the waist, and trousers of a light bufif-color that gathered at the ankle and were very copious above. His features were of the straight type which has been called from time immemorial patrician. He had dark hair which escaped in waves from under his hat, and black eyes that snapped when they perceived Miss Vir- ginia Carvel. At sight of her, indeed, the gold-headed cane stopped in its gyrations in midair. " Why, Jinny I " he cried — " Jinny ! " ivlr. Hopper would have sold his soul to have been in the young man's polished boots, to have worn his clothes, and to have been able to cry out to the young lady, " Why, Jinny I " To Mr. Hopper's surprise, the young lady did t ^t turn around. She stood perfectly still. But a red flush str^le THE MOLE 17 upon her cheek, and laughter was dancing in her eyes. Yet she did not move. The young man took a step for- ward, and then stood staring at her with such a comical expression of injury '<•■, his Face as was too much for Miss Jinny's serenity. She iaaghH-^ . That laugh also struck minor chords upo i Mt. Hopp< ) 's heart-strings. But the young ; •'iutlemau ^ ery properly grew angry. " You've no right uo ireft me the way you do, Vir- ginia," he cried. " Why didn't you let me know that you were coming home?" His tone was one of authority. " You didn't come from Kentucky alone ! " " I had plenty of attendance, I assure you," said Miss Carvel. " A governor, and a senator, and two charming young gentlemen from New Orleans as far as Cairo, where I found Captain Lige's boat. And Mr. Brinsmade brought me here to the store. I wanted to surprise Pa," she continued rapidly, to head off the young gentleman's expostulations. " How mean of him not to be here ! " " Allow me to escort you home," said he, with ceremony. "Allow me to decline the honah, Mr. Colfax," she cried, imitating him. "I intend to wait here until Pa comes in." Then Eliphalet knew that the young gentleman was Miss Virginia's first cousin. And it seemed to him that he had heard a rumor, amongst the clerks in the store, that she was to marry him one day. "Where is Uncle Comyn?" demanded Mr. Colfax, swinging his cane with impatience. Virgina looked hard at Mr. Hopper. " I don't know," she said. " Ephum ! " shouted Mr. Colfax. " Ephum I Easter, where the deuce is that good-for-nothing husband of yours ? " " I dunno, Marse Clarence. 'Spec he whah he oughtn't ter be." Mr. Colfax spied the stooping figure of Eliphalet. " Do you work here ? " he demanded. " I callate." " What ? " 18 THE CRISIS '* I callate to," responded Mr. Hopper again, without rising. " Please find Mr. Hood," directed Mr. Colfax, with a wave of his cane, " and say that Miss Carvel is here — " Whereupon Miss Carvel seated herself uj ori the edge of a bale and giggled, which did not have a soothing effect upon either of the young men. How abominably you were wont to behave in those days, Virginia. "Just say that Mr. Colfax sent you," Clarence con- tinued, with a note of irritation. "There's a good fellow." Virginia laughed outright. Her cousin did not deign to look at her. His temper was slipping its leash. " I wonder whether you hear me," he remarked. No answer. " Colonel Carvel hires you, doesn't he ? He pays you wages, and the first time his daughter comes in here you refuse to do her a favor. By thunder, I'll see that you are dismissed." Still Eliphalet gave him no manner of attention, but began marking the tags at the bottom of the pile. It was at this unpropitious nioment that Colonel Carvel walked into the store, and his daughter flew into his arms. " Well, well," he said, kissing her, " thought you'd surprise me, eh. Jinny ? " " Oh, Pa," she cried, looking reproachfully up at his face. " You knew — how mean of you I " " I've been down on the Louisiana^ where some incon- siderate man told me, or I should not have seen you to- day. I was oflF to Alton. But what are these goings-on ? " said the Colonel, staring at young Mr. Colfax, rigid as one of his own gamecocks. He was standing defiantly over the stooping figure of the assistant manager. Oh," said Virginia, indifferently, " it's only Clarence. He's so tiresome. He's always wanting to fight with somebody." " What's the matter, Clarence ? " asked the Colonel, with the mild concern which deceived so many of the undiscerning. n.'l.'.'li ililH h lllllil IlliiiilWlllill III III Wl I III! II II mi III 1 1 Will ' ■■ '41 — fai ijri Ljjs^sr I'teJitv. h ^ PLEA8E HND AIb. IIOOO,' 1„HECTE1, Mb. CoLFAX ' M ^rJ: i \l : i I ar-jy-j!^ ti"5j v«ast''«..arjm THE MOLE 19 t^r ^Ko^^ i!"'' ^h^ ^^'"' ^»vo' fo' your daujTh- *w J*"® n^^ ^''°' *°*^ ^ *«ld him, to notify Mr Hood that Mi88 Carvel was here, and he refused." ^ Colonel Carvel pulled his goatee, and smiled. " Clarence," saiS he, "I reckon I can run this establish S?f*nr^'"' ^^y.^'^P ^'^"^ y^^ ^^^ Jinnr I've been at It now for a good many years." * ve oeen If Mr. Barbo had not been constitutionally unluckv hn might have perceived Mr. Hopper, before da^rk that e^;en! SL'J' cp^^versation with Mr. Hood about a certJL cus- wT ""^A ^'""^^ "P *^^"' *"d presently leave th^store by the side entrance. He walked as rapidly as his Ws would carry him, for they were a trifle short 7or his bodT and in due time, as the lamps were flickering, he arrived near Colonel Carvei;8 large double residence, on Tenth and Locust streets. Then he walked slowly abnT Tenth h^ eves lifted to the tell, curteined window! nIw and anon tW scanned passers-by for a chance acouaintance Mr. Hopper walked around the blo^ arrivincr or,o« opposite the Carvel house, and beside JSrRSt'^ Xch tT T'^\^''''^ }\ Eliphalet had inherited the princt pie of mathematical chances. It is a fact that thTdL- creet sometimes teke chances. Towards the back of M^ f tell In'^'v'^^' ^ ^^^" ^''^ ™ «"°k to the depth oi a tall man, which was apparently used for the purpose of getting coal and wood into the cellar. Mr. HoSsweot the neighborhood with a glance. The coastTw cS and he dropped into the area. ' Although the evening was chUl, at first Mr. Honoer perspired very freely, lie crouched in the area wWle S^e steps of pedestrians beat above his head, and took no emofed'h s hT^^H ""' '"'^ '"^^^^^^ ^« grew cooler! CoWl P hat, and peeped over the stone coping •Ju f. ^9"""®^ f h°^»® - *«'• house — was now ablaze with hghts, and tiie shades not yet dra^. Thei^ wS the dining room, where the negro butler wal moving L-^yr- L:>Bi-iiTiKWB-aiBKi- JihijwJidk. 90 THE CRISIS about the table ; and the pantry, where the bntler went occasionally ; and the kitchen, with black figures moving about. But upstairs on the two streets was the sitting room. The straight figure of the Colonel passed adross the light. He held a newspaper in his hand. Suddenly, fuU in the window, he stopped and flung away the paper. A graceful shadow slipped across the wall. Virginia laid her hands on his shoulders, and he stooped to kiss her. Now they sat between the curtains, she on the arm of his chair and leaning on him, together looking out of the window. How long this lasted Mr. Hopper could not say. Even the wise forget themselves. But all at once a wagon backed and bumped against the curb in front of him, and Eliphalet's head dropped as if it had been struck by the wheel. Above him a sash screamed as it opened, and he heard Mr. Renault's voice say, to some person below : — " Is that you, Capitaine Grant?" " The same," was the brief reply. "I am charmed that you have brought the wood. I thought that you had forgotten me." " I try to do what I say, Mr. Renault." " Attendez — wait I " cried Mr. Renault, and closed the window. Now was Eliphalet's chance to bolt. The perspiration had come again, and it was cold. But directly the excit- able little man, Renault, had appeared on the pavement above him. He had been running. " It is a long voyage from Gravois with a load of wood, Capitaine — I am very grateful." " Business is business, Mr. Renault," was the self-con- tained reply. "Alphonsel" cried Mr. Renault, "Alphonsel" A door opened in the back wall. " Du vin pour Monsieur le Capitaine." "Oui, M'sieu." Eliphalet was too frightened to wonder why this taci- turn handler of wood was called Captain, and treated wiUi such respect. w^^'-:m^w^^%m THE MOLE 81 «.iH^! u7 °* teke any wine to-night, Mr. Renault," ii^% ' ^f " ^° '°«^^«' «' y«"'» tokl cold." Mr. Renault protested, asked about all the residents of Gravois way and finally obeyed. Eliphalet's hearfwas Hberiv El^i.h.wh^^''/^^"* would have dashed for Ho ^r ^I Phajet did not possess that kind of bravery. th«Vfi M ^^^° t^"^* ^^«*^*d' ^ith the light from nortrSf nf TP ""^ ^S ^*??- ^^^*'' "^^^^^ »° ineffaceabb £?m W^nH '" r \^' "^P.P"''« '"^"^^ «« that he knew him instantly when he saw him years afterward. Little did he reckon that the fourth time he was to see him th s man was to be President of the United Stated He wore a close-cropped beard, an old blue army overcoat, and his Swmi T". * -f ^!f ^"^ * P^^"- «^ °»"ddy cowhide boote Swiftly but silently the man reached down and hauled Ehphalet to the sidewalk by the nape of the neck. hl„« V. '^^^•'^'', ^^''^"^ there ? '*^ demanded he of the blue overcoat, sternly. h«^fi?i?^v did not answer With one frantic wrench ne freed himself, and ran down Locust Street. At the corner, turning fearfully, he perceived the man in the overcoat calmly preparing to unload his wood. ra -^^Mr---mm.\ -<^^^^^'^' CHAPTER III THE UNATTAINABLB SIMPLICITT To Mr. Hopper the being caught was the unpardonable crime. And indeed, with many of us, it is humiliation and not conscience which makes the sting. He walked out to the end of the city's growth westward, where the new houses were going up. He had reflected coolly on consequences, and found there were none to speak of. Many a moralist, Mr. Davitt included, would have shaken his head at this. Miss Crane's whole Puritan household would have raised their hands in horror at such a doctrine. Some novelists I know of, who are in reality celebrated surgeons in disguise, would have shown a good part of Mr. Eliphalet Hopper's mental insides in as many words as I have taken to chronicle his arrival in St. Louis. They invite us to attend a clinic, and the horrible skill with which they wield the scalpel holds us spellbound. For God has made all of us, rogue and saint, burglar and burgomaster, marvellously alike. We read a patent medicine circular and shudder with seven diseases. We peruse one of Mr. So and So's intellectual tonics and are sure we are complicated scandals, fearfully and wonder- fully made. Alas, I have neither the skill nor the scalpel to show the diseases of Mr. Hopper's mind ; if, indeed, he had any. Conscience, when contracted, is just as troublesome as croup. Mr. Hopper was thoroughly healthy. He had ambition, as I have said. But he was not morbidly sen- sitive. He was calm enough when he got back to the boarding-house, which he found in as high a pitch of ex- citement as New Englanders ever reach. And over what ? 88 ^Bsmms'^^^s&iiS^i THE UNATTAINABLE SIMPLICITY 23 Over the prospective arrival that evening of the Brices, mother and son, from Boston. Miss Crane had received the message m the morning. Palpitating with the news, she had hurried rusthig to Mrs. Abner Reed, with the paper in her hand. Mn^et ^^^ ^°°'* ™^*'' ^'*^* Appleton Brice," said " That's just wlio I mean," answered Miss Crane, trium- phantly, — nav, aggressively. ove^wiefm^rtth ptoS^^^ ^" ^ ""'' *'^^ '"^^^ ^^'^'^ be;;irBo'a "" ^"^'^''" "^' ^^^- " ^-'* ^- -- Miss Crane bridled This was an uncalled-for insult. I giess I visited down Boston-way oftener than you, Eliza Reed. You never had any clothes." Mrs. Reed's strength was her imperturbability. "And you never set eyes on the Brice house, opposite the Common, with the swelled front? I'd like to find out where you were a-visitin . And you've never heard tell of the Brice homestead, at Westbury, that was Colonel Wilton Brice s, who fought in the Revolution? I'm astonished at you, Mirandy. When I used to be at the Dales, m Mount Vernon Street, in thirty-seven, Mrs. Charles Atterbury Bnce used to come there in her car- nage, a-callin . She was Appleton's mother. Severe I Save us, exclaimed Mrs. Reed, "but she was stiff as starched crepe. His father was minister to France. The Brices were in the India trade, and they had money enough to buy the whole of St. Louis." J- K" Miss Crane rattled the letter m her hand. She brought lortn her reserves. ° *!, " ^f ' *5? Appleton Brice lost it all, in the panic. And then he died, and left the widow and son without a cent. Mrs. Reed took off her spectacles. « I want to know 1 " she exclaimed. « The durned fool I Well, Appleton Bnce didn't have the family brains, and he was kind of soft-hearted. I've heard Mehitabel Dale ^S^fTK ,>!£■- -7aat-3»W^»t^£^ ItT u THE CRISIS they're coming say that/' She paused to reflect. "So here ? " she added. " I wonder why." Miss Crai e's triumph was not over. ** Because Silas Whipple was some kin to Appleton Brice, and he has offered the boy a place in his law office." Miss Reed laid down her knitting. " Save us I ' she said. " This is a day of wonders, Mirandy. Now Lord help the boy if he'' goin' to work for the Judcfe." " The Judge has a soft heart, if he is crabbed," declared the spinster. " I've heard say of a good bit of charity he's done. He's a soft heart." " Soft as a green quince I " said Mrs. Abner, scornfully. " How many friends has he ? " " Those he has are warm enough," Miss Crane retorted. " Look at Colonel Carvel, who has him to dinner everv Sunday." ^ "That's plain as your nose, Mirandy Crane. They both like quarrellin' better than anything in this world." "Well,' said Miss Oine, "I must go make ready for the Brices." Such was the importance of the occasion, however, that she could not resist calling at Mrs. Merrill's room, and she knocked at Mrs. Chandler's door to tell that lady and her daughter. No Burke has as yet arisen in this country of ours to write a Peerage. Fame awaits him. Indeed, it was even then awaiting him, at the time of the panic of 1857. With what infinite pains were the pedigree and posses- sions of the Brice family pieced together that day by the scattered residents from Puritan-land in the City of St. Louis. And few buildings would have borne the wear and tear of many house-cleanings of the kind Miss Crane indulged in throughout the morning and afternoon. Mr. Eliphalet Hopper, on his return from business, was met on the steps and requested to wear his Sunday clothes. Like the good republican that he was, Mr. Hopper refused. He had ascertained that the golden charm which made the Brices worthy of tribute had been THE UNATTAINABLE SIMPLICITY 26 i^L ^?™™«'°»al "upremacy, — that was Mr. Hopper's Ehphalet at WiUesden had heard a great deal of Bos ton airs and graces and intellectuality, of the favoZ few of that city who lived in mysterious houses and who crossed the sea in ships. He pitured MrHrice iskTn^ for a spoon, and young Stephen sniffing at Mrs Crane? boarding-house. And he resolved with democratic sp^rij onerea. His own discrepancy between the real and th« unagmed was no greater tLn Lt of the res't ofhis fellow! in^ti'iiiif iS!S'^^' '!"''- ^'^ ''/'''' ?^^»de that even- Cr:Z^. • i"^ bombazines and broadcloths, and Miss motfJf^r^ preserves on the tea-table. Alas, that Trl' VroundT"' '^°^™ ^' ^^^« "«^^^ ^^-^^ ^-^"P^n boJrderrwi^Tlt^"®' K^'- "°PP«^' «^°d «'>°>« ^^her Doaraers, was simplicity. None save the trulv ereat nos 'Z so n^a'uraMhit fi^ ^^°^^^"^ known). "UTfe Tn^int^S TK f ^'■'^ ^""^".'"^^ ** *^»' t^at a" were dis- appointed. The hero upon the reviewing sfand with the l^vof fL^W T" behind his head is%ne thing; the la^ of Family who sits beside you at a boardina-house and discusses the weather and the journey is quit^ anothe? They were prepared to hear Mrs. Brice ?ail at the dirt of St. Louis and the crudity of the West. Thev pictured i^lS thatTt^r'^ ^'^l!? ^ ^?' Connections, a/dTewal Sfrvard. ^ ' °°^ ^^''^ ^""^^^^ ^'^ course at She did nothing of the sort. inlhe^nifv J^^^^^iT^ f ^u^* *^^* ^"- A^°«' Reed cried in the privacy of her chamber, and the Widow Crane con- fnend, Mrs. Merrill. Not many years Uter a man named I u 'vm w liA.Aijk 26 THE CRISIS Grant wu to be in Spnnfffield, with a carpet bag, despised as a vagabond. A very homely man named Lincoln went to Cincinnati to try a case before the Supreme Court, and was snubbed by a man named Stanton. When we meet the truly sreat, several things may hap- pen. In the first place, we begin to believe in their luck, or fate, or whatever we choose to call it, and to curse our ?7r ^\ ?f^'" *** ""^^P®^* ourselves the more, and to realize that thev are merely clay like us, that we are great men without Opportunity. Sometimes, if we live lone enough near the Great, we begin to have misgivings inen there IS hope for us. * Mrs. Brice, with her simple black gowns, quiet manner, and serene face, with her interest in others and none in herself, had a wonderful eflFect upon the boarders. Thev were nearly all prepared to be humble. They grew arro- gant and pretentious. They asked Mrs. Brice ifshe knew this and that person of consequence in Boston, with whom the^ claimed relationship or intimacy. Her answers were amiable and self-contained. But what shall we say of Stephen Brice? Let us con- not Ehphalet Hopper. It would be so easy to paint Stephen in shining colors, and to make him a first-class Kf? ^J. ^ "u"* i"*^ all novelists), that we must begin with the drawbacks. First and worst, it must be con- fessed that Stephen had at that time what has been called the Boston manner " This was not Stephen's fault, but Boston 8. Young Mr. Brice possessed that wonderful power of expressing distance in other terms besides ells and furlongs, — and yet he was simple enough with it all. Many a furtive stare he drew from the table that even- l°§\v ^T'",® °^® o"* *^o of discernment present, and they noted that his were the generous features of a marked man, — if he cbose to become marked. He inher- ited his mother 8 look ; hers was the face of a strong woman, wide of sympathy, broad of experience, showing peace of mmd amid troubles — the touch of femininity was there to soiten it. ^ THE UNATTAINABLE SIMPLICITY m Her son had the ur of the college-bred. In these sur- n^t^^Sf ^^Ti "^ofir^nce by the wonderful kindli- ?r h T' ""^^"^ ^'^t^^ ^^«° *>'» ™«ther spoke to him. But he was not at home at Miss Crane's taKe, and he made no attempt to appear at his ease. This was an unexpected pleasure for Mr. Elinhalet f'ff ; kK' ''■ °?^^ **'«"^^^ *^»t »»« ^^ the onfy one at that table to indulge in a little secret rejoicing. ^But It was a peculiar satisfaction to him to reflect that these people, who had held up their heads for so many genera! tions, were humbled at last. To be humbled ^eant fn Mr. Hopper's philosophy, to lose one's money. It wZ thus he gauged the importance of his acquaintances ; it was thus he hoped some day to be gauged And he rusted and believed that the^time woSld^come when he could give his fil ip to the upi>er rim of fortune's wheel! and send it spinning downward. Mr. Hopper was drinking his tea and silently forming an estimate. He concludeS that young Brice w^as not th! type to acquire the money which his father had lost And he reflected that Steph'en must feel as strange in St Louis as a cod might amongst the cat-fish in the Mississippi. So the assistant manager of Carvel & Company resolved to indulge in the pleasure of patronizing the Bostonian. Callatm to go to work ? " he asked him, as the boarders walked into the best room. •!1^®^" 1®P^^®^ Stephen, taken aback. And it mav be said here that, if Mr. Hopper underestimated him. ce^ tainly he underestimated Mr. Hopper. "It ain't easy to get a job this Fall," said Eliphalet. "St. Louis houses have felt the panic." "I am sorry to hear that." "What business was you callatin' to grapple with ? " Law, said Stephen. Tn".?r? 'i!' ^''''^^^l^. ^l- "Wer, "I want to know." In reality he was a bit chagrined, having pictured with some pleasure the Boston aristocrat going from store to store ior a situation. " You didn't come here figurin'on makin' a pile, I guess." * ,mM. THE CRISIS "A what?" " A pUe." Stephen looked down and o\ er Mr. Hopper attentively. He took in the blocky shoulders and the square head, and he pictured the little eyes at a vanishing-point in lines of a bargain. Then humor — blessed humor — came to his rescue. He had entered the race in the West, where all start equal. He had come here, like this man who was succeeding, to make his living. Would he succeed ? Mr. Hopper drew something out of his pocket, eyed Miss Crane, and bit off a corner. " What office was you going into ? " he asked gen- ially. Mr. Brice decided to answer that. " Judge Whipple'a*^ unless he has changed his mind." Eliphalet gave nim a look mti'e eloquent than words. " Know the Judge ? " " No." Silent laughter. ** If all the Fourth of Julys weVe had was piled into one," said Mr. Hopper, slowly and with conviction, **■ they wouldn't be a circumstance to Silas Whipple when he gets mad. My boss, Colonel Carvel, is the only man in town who'll stand up to him. I've seen 'em begin a ?uarrel in the store and carry it all the way up the street, callate you won't stay with him a great while." CHAPTER IV BLACK CATTLE Lateb that evening Stephen Brice was sitting by the open windows in his mother's room, looking silently down on the street-lights below. . " Well, my dear," asked the lady, at length, " what do you think of it all ? " " They are kind people," he said. " Yes, they are kmd," she assented, with a sigh. " But they are not — they are not from among our friends, Stephen." ** I thought that one of our reasons for coming West, mother," answered Stephen. His mother looked pained. " Stephen, how can you I We came West in order that you might have more chance for the career to which you are entitled. Our friends in Boston were more tnan good." He left the window and came and stood behind her chair, his hands clasped playfully beneath her chin. " Have you the exact date about you, mother ? " " What date, Stephen ? " "When I shall leave St. Louis for the United States Senate. And you must not forget that there is a youth limit in our Constitution for senators." Then the widow smiled, — a little sadly, perhaps. But still a wonderfully sweet smile. And it made her strong face akin to all that was human and helpful. ** I believe that you have the subject of my first speech in that august assembly. And, by the way, what was it?" "It was on 'The Status of the Emigrant,'" she re- 80 THE CRISIS sponded instantly, thereby proving that she was his mother. "And it touched the Rights of Privacy," he added, laughing, "which do not seem to exist in St. Louis boarding-houses. " " In the eyes of your misguided profession, statesmen and authors and emigrants and other public charges have no Rights of Privacy," said she. " Mr. Longfellow told me once that they were to name a brand of flour for him, and that he had no redress." " Have you, too, been up before Miss Crane's Commis- sion ? " he asked, with amused interest. His mother laughed. " Yes," she said quietly. "They have some expert members," he continued. " This Mrs. Abner Reed could be a shining light in any bar. I overheard a part of her cross-examination. She — she had evidently studied our case — " "My dear," answered Mrs. Brice, "I suppose they know all about us." She.was silent a moment— "I had so hoped that they wouldn't. They lead the same narrow hfe m this house that they did in their little New England towns. They — they pity us, Stephen." "Mother I" "I did not expect to find so many New Englanders here — I wish that Mr. Whipple had directed us elsewhere — '* "He probably thought that we should feel at home among New Englanders. I hope the Southerners will be more considerate. I believe they will," he added. " They are very proud," said his mother. "A wonderful people, — born aristocrats. You don't remember those Randolphs with whom we travelled through England. They were with us at HoUingdean, Lord Northwell's place. You were too small at the time. There was a young girl, Eleanor Randolph, a beauty. I shall never forget the wajr she entered those English drawing-rooms. They visited us once in Beacon Street, afterwards. And I have heard that there are a great many good Southern families here in St. Louis." -J'-f!!^- 9 "^ tm-^ mmti^ BLACK CATTLE 31 "You did not glean that from Judge Whionle's lett«r mother," said Stephen, mischievously. ^"^^^^^^ ^®**«'» « He was very frank in his letter,''^ sighed Mrs. Brice. I imagine he is always frank, to put it delicately." mv Jrr Ir *^^»3^« «P?^e in praise of Silas Whipple, my dear. I have heard him call him one of the ablest t^Aluf *k' '°^iT- «« ^°^ » remarkable «de'a bank on pointed !c?,Slhe square MaStr *°.""' "'"'*°" ""-^ you," he added, " but th"'judL?nZZ \^T°\«^ '''»'' Mt 'b1"1S:^> *"' ««- ' I^Sf^vf jl^ra^ote "^ tha;"Mpi;;;tri^^tfe,;'^'-^ » "nought Mr. Richter laughed. wagS"" ""*" '" ^"^" "^^ •">• "The Judge pays him bir&nti:^^ wttX^Tot^thfttr *^ot ht-»^'an7iif^;'- ^ »^^' - -' ^-^ 'i^ a* gritn^sU'-ire ws.^: *„^; V^^4 '^^l beings waiting to be sold at auction M? I vnil'» T thiV^-oT -^Ki'" '^^^ »":sVSe:^'thL^ our t:^;s,^:tt{rdo';o'^x:iett sx* r iSf., V THE CRISIS I misery and the dumb heart-aches of those days I Stephen thought with agony of seeing his own mother sold before his eyes, and the building in front of him was lifted from its foundation and rocked even as shall the temples on the judgment day. The oily auctioneer waa inviting the people to pinch the wares. Men came forward to leel the creatures and look into their mouths, and one brute, unshaven and with filthy linen, snatched a child from its mother's lap. Stephen shuddered with the sharpest pain he had ever known. An ocean-wide tempest arose in his breast, — a Samson's strength to break the pillars of the temple, to slay these men with his bare hands. Seven genera- tions of stern life and thought had their focus here in him, — from Oliver Cromwell to John Brown. Stephen was far from prepared for the storm that raged within him. He had not been brought up an Abolitionist, — far from it. Nor had his father^ friends — who were deemed at that time the best people in Boston — been Abolitionists. Only three years before, when Boston had been aflame over the delivery of the fugitive Anthony Burns, Stephen had gone out of curiosity to the mass meeting at Faneuil Hall. How well he remembered his father's indignation when he confessed it, and in his anger Mr. Brice had called Phillips and Parker " agita- tors." But his father, nor his father's friends in Boston, had never been brought face to face with this hideous traffic. Hark ! Was that the sing-song voice of the auctioneer ? He was selling the cattle. High and low, caressing and menacing, he teased and exhorted them to buy. They were bidding, yes, for the possession of souls, bidding in the currency of the Great Republic. And between the eager shouts came a moan of sheer despair. What was the attendant doing now ? He was tearing two of them from a last embrace. Three — four were sold while Stephen was in a dream. Then came a lull, a hitch, and the crowd began to chatter gayly. But the misery in front of him held BLACK CATTLE 87 Stephen in a spell. Figures stood out from the group. A white-haired patriarch, with eyes raised to the sky ; a flat-breasted woman whose child was gone, whose weakness made her valueless. Then two girls were pushed forth, one a quadroon of great beautv, to be fingered. Stephen turned his face away, — to behold Mr. Eliphalet Hopper looking calmly on. " Wal, Mr. Brice, this is an interesting show now, ain't it ? Something we don't have. I generally stop here to take a look when I'm passing." And he spat tobacco juice on the coping. Stephen came to his senses. " And you are from New England ? " he said. Mr. Hopper laughed. "Tarnation I " said he, "you get used to it. When I come here, I was a sort of an Abolitionist. But after you've lived here awhile you get to know that niffeers ain't fit for freedom." *** Silence from Stephen. "Likely gal, that beautv," Eliphalet continued unre- pressed. "There's a well-known New Orleans dealer named Jenkins after her. I callate she'll go down river." "I reckon you're right, Mistah," a man with a matted beard chimed in, and added with a wink : " she'll find it pleasant enough — fer a while. Some of those other nig- pn will go too, and thev'd rather go to hell. They do treat 'em nefarious daown thah on the wholesale plantations. Household niggers I there ain't none better off than them. But seven years in a cotton swamp, — seven years it takes : that's aU, Mistah." ^ Stephen moved away. He felt that to stay near the man was to be tempted to murder. He moved away, and just then the auctioneer yelled, " Attention ! " " Gentlemen," he cried, " I have heah two sisters, the prcye'ty of the late Mistah Robe't Benbow, of St. Louis, as fine a pair of wenches as was ever offe'd to the public from these heah steps — " " Speak for the handsome gal," cried a wag. " Sell off the cart boss fust," said another. THE CRISIS '•I ', 1 ,',i jl The auctioneer turned to the darker sister. "Sal ain't much on looks, gentlemen," he said, "but sue 8 the best nigser for work Mistah Benbow had." He seized her arm and squeezed it, while the girl flinched and drew back. "She's solid, gentlemen, and sound as a What'am I bid ?'" '"'' """^ '°^^* '^^^^^^'^^^ ^^^^ «W- Much to the auctioneer's disgust, Sal was bought in for four hundred dollars, the interest in the beautiful sister havmc: made the crowd impatient. Stephen, sick at heart, turned to leave. Halfway to the corner he met a little elderly man who was the color of a dried gourd. And just as Stephen passed him, this man was overtaken by an old negress, with tears streaming down her face, who i^vofunterily. ' ^""" "^ ^'' ''^'' ^*^P^^° ^^"^^ "Well, Nancy," said the little man, « we had marvellous T \x. ^^ *^^® \° ^"^ y^^^ daughter for you with less tnan tne amount of your savings." ;; T'ank you, Mistah Cantah,^' wailed the poor woman, t ank you, suh. Praised be de name ob de Lawd. He gib me Sal again. Oh, Mistah Cantah " (the asfony in that cry), "IS you gwineter stan' heah an' see her sister Hester sol to — to — oh, ma little chile I De little chile dat I nussed, dat I raised up in God's 'ligion. Mis- tah Cantah, save her, suh, f'om dat wicked life o' sin. De Lawd Jesus 11 rewa'd you, suh. Dis ole woman'U wuk fo' yo'J *weU de flesh drops off'n her fingers, suh." And had he not held her, she would have gone down on her knees on the stone flagging before him. Her suffer- ing was stamped on the little man's face, - and it seemed to Stephen that this was but one trial more which adversity had brought to Mr. Canter. "veisity "Nancy," he answered (how often, and to how many, must he have had to say the same thing), " I haven't the money, Nancy. Would to God that I had, Nancy I " She had sunk down on the bricks. But she had not !?i !•;. iV"^^ ''''} t"" merciful as that. It was Stephen who lifted her, and helped her to the coping, where she BLACK CATTLE 39 sat with her head bowed between her knees, the scarlet bandanna awr^. Stephen Bnce was not of a descent to do things upon impulse. But the tale was told in after days that one of nis first actions in St. Louis was of this nature. The waters stored for ages in the four great lakes, given the opportunity, rush over Niagara Falls into Ontario. " Take the woman away," said Stephen, in a low voice, "and I will buy the girl, — if I can." The little man looked up, dazed. "Give me your card, — your address. I will buy the girl, if I can, and set her free." He fumbled in his pocket and drew out a dirty piece of pasteboard. It read : " R. Canter, Second Hand Furni- ture, 20 Second Street." And still he stared at Stephen, as one who gazes upon a mystery. A few curious pedes- trians had stopped in front of them. "Get her away, if you can, for God's sake," said Stephen again. And he strode off toward the people at the auction. He was trembling. In his eagerness to reach a place of vantage before the girl was sold, he pushed roughly into the crowd. But suddenly he was brought up short by the blocky body of Mr. Hopper, who grunted with the force of the impact. "Gosh," said that gentleman, "but you are inters'ted. They ain't begun to sell her yet — he's waitin' for some- bod^. Gallatin' to buy her?" asked Mr. Hopper, with genial humor. Stephen took a deep breath. If he knocked Mr. Hopper down, he certainly could not buy her. And it was a relief to know that the sale had not begun. As for Eliphalet, he was beginning to like young Brice. He approved of any man from Boston who was not too squeamish to take pleasure in a little affair of this kind. As for Stephen, Mr. Hopper brought him back to earth. He ceased trembling, and began to think. " Tarnation 1 " said Eliphalet. " There's my boss. Colonel i- . 40 THE CB18IS group. ^Jr;, And Stephen gl.„oed .b«„tly .t the were coming to » ri.ve auct on'Tsurelv not^i '^°P'° here they were on the Mvenent .t b« verv ,?d, ""^ ^'" of dark green veW vTla I '"""^ * "="»? 'x'nnet Wj and Wn-h^^'rhea^i^ll.'' 'C^'^ra'™^'^ "i^ T beaut Avtgw'^'j;^ r-iS "5! "'""'• The StepSen winced. But m.^^^.;^. i '"°*»n«. "to view, the eff^t upon vS^^"^^:^:"'^ "« »™«'. *» «e He™ w«le ^trZ'^ "PO." "" '-he.. «» po«*i ""« rasp ot tne auctioneer s voicp • Mddt°^:r»'o^?r„ntra.''"tti"r.^? "^'-i «» well, gentlemen. HSk vt^ .i*^ ^»'- f""'' »* her ture?* *■" y""- "n t she a splendid orea- '•C^t°CyySl'si?d'^'gS'?!:K^'»^ 'o "«>™ <»• over." ■^ ne said, X had no business to bring you Tou W that iT^ys^t^t^-pj^y her '" -• ■fe^i^i,^:itu^^mjr ^^; BLACK CATTLE 41 wh4 meant «f SS=h to htaV H?'i^.r'"* *''«.-»»"y elbowing to the front AnTJlf the ni«n Jenkins not Bet her ? H. h. j '^^^ r ""PPoee Mr. Colfax did and r«,rher fi!^' "^ »"»»«<» »» b»,v her if he could. ^•f< II iti CHAPTER V THE FIRST SPARK PASSES K»!I fi^-^i! §«?*lemen," shouted the auctioneer, when he ^jw^^^^^^''''^'°'\ "P**" ^^^ S"^'^ attractions, « what am I bid? Eight hundred ? " Stephen caught his breath. There was a long pause. No one cared to start the bidding. ^ " Come, gentlemen, come I There's my friend Alf Jen- nmgs. He know-s what she's worth to a nickel. What'll you give, Alf ? Is it eight hundred ? " Mr. Jennings winked at the auctioneer, and the crowd joined m the laugh. " Three hundred ! " he said. crild^ll^°*^°°^®'^ ^" mortaUy o£Pended. Then some one " Three hundred and fifty I " r.J^J^-r'^^^ ^''"**- "® ^»« recognized at once, by name, evidently as a person of importance. ^ Ihankyou, Mistah Colfax, suh," said the auctioneer, TnL f '^y^^/^r.^^ *^^"*°*^ '"^ ^« direction, while the crowd twisted their necks to see him. He stood very straight, very haughty, as if enti^jly oblivious to his con- spicuous position. " Three seventy-five ! " aarl3'**'n ^^*^' ^Istah Jcnniugs," said the auctioneer, sarcastically. He turned to the mrl, who might have we^« fn?H«/'"^f °'. HV ^P^l ^^ ^''^'' Her hands were folded m front of her, her head bowed down. The fni^iT^"" .fni ^^ ^^^^ "'*^^'* ^^^ «hi^ and raised it nn?&. i?ll!! T "y 8^^'" ^« ^^^ "yo« ain't got nothing to blubber about now." *^ Hester's breast heaved, and from her black eyes there 43 THE FIEST 8PABK PASSES a tMrxi^roL'""" "*''»''<'• «'"«»«''«i- That The white blood I " Four hundred I " Mr. Brice and C Colfl? ^- ^ *^'^ ""^^^^ B"*^ "Jbour seventy-five I " he cried. "Thank yoM,suh." "Five hundred I " snapped Mr. Colfas. fe *K ,: IH ,111 I I ^1 I I *• THE CRISIS SSw !" ^^ °°* ri° ^ ^ *^« ^""^ ^J»« ^om relish retummgr to a young lady and acknowledge a defeat. shot ufev"*"* A '^' ^^ ^iT ^'^ ^°"*"- The SouSemer Shot up fifty. Again Stephen raised it ten. He was in fu^l possession of himself now, and proof affainirthS ^nly veUed irony of the oilv man's remarks T favor tf ^;^f?. ^i\ l\ *" r»-edibly short time the btter^s dXr^ ^ ^ ^'^''^^' '^'"^ *° ^^^^* ^'^dred and t^n Then several things happened very quieklv. Mr. Jennings got up from the curb and said, "Ei^ht hundred and twenty-five," with his cigar in Ws mou^h ^wt^^l^^'ff^""? of excitement dild when sSphS; glancing at Colfax for the next move, saw that youna l^T'^A'^r^ ^'T. *^" ''^' ^y ^^ uncle? the tSg E^^Tn^hettr^hf ;r^^^^^^^ ^^- '''^^^^ ^-el, we;cTl:nCoS it!^"^ ^^ ' " ^^^ ^^^^-^ --^- " The Mr. Colfax shook himself free. " I've got to buv her now, sir," he cried. with me?" "'**' "^^ *^' ^"''^"^- "Y^'^ °^°»« »long bufhl'^^.^'A^f " ™ ^^'•^ *°»^- He struggled, win™ JS-i' '^!^^• '^' P'«J««tin8r. l^e passed Stephen, at whom he embarrassment '"ddenly he was overcome with " yH d •!' • " ■■« "'""'"<'<«'• — >»' harshly. sh?^°se^„ti'„j,r''fh;ra'/:t""'^ -"'• "Stephen Atterbury Brioc'* " Residence, Mr. Brice ! " do™fu:e°£me'4,rswS- ,".?' '"»'?»d «' '""»« it in hU face ^^Af^j^l^'^ S. "">? '" "i^^ his quill, and mdulired in .^^i ' , ."""^ ''« P»' down Mr.^ri,;^'sdisrmS ^' "* '*"»'"«'• ^ely to -Wh^t'trVr'^tiu-'t^'^'Trt'^:.'' "» -»"• boa'din'-honse." * ^'"" "■«» a Yankee ^idi^^herSi;'" ""' " P*^ "' y°" •"^■x'". too." Jn^^KaMaife'S.til'rr'o'o down promised to lead fn orwilt V . * disturbance which Seal of pantom ir'anTwWe^iS'r "d , "^f^' '^'t' » notary behind the wire "S??."?^ laughter with the eigne.!, attested, and ddiS ' stnif "^ ""^ "J^" <>"*• t.^nea .He duor m answer to his Afli^-jr" «3?riri -1 THE FIRST SPARK PASSES 47 ana oiiated. But Stephen, summon ng all his courage pushed past her to the stairs, and beSkoned HesterTo he'llid*''^ ^"'"''^^^ this -this person to see my mother," ^fl^^ir^^'^'i^^J''''^^^ ^'""^ ^^^ ^ack of her neck. She stetearrMr.'V^ ^^^T' '"^^ ^" '^' ^^" ^^'V^t unSl «frnH«^n *^ V^"''^^/.*'"'' ^P^" *"d ^^a^'' and then she nl^t Z ^l '**''' ^^V""^^ *^^ apartment of xMrs. Abner Reed. As she passed the first landing, the quadroon girl was waiting in the hall. 4«»Miuoa gm i -'9^1E''&v^i ^1 . CHAPTER VI SILAS WHIPPLE The trouble with many narratives is that they tell too much. Stephen's interview with his mother was a quiet affair, and not historic. Miss Crane's boarding-house is not an interesting place, and the tempest in that teapot is better imagined than described. Out of consideraticm for Mr. Stephen Brice, we shall skip likewise a most afifectini? scene at Mr. Canter's second-hand furniture store. That afternoon Stephen came again to the dirty flight of steps which led to Judge Whipple's office. He paused a moment to gather courage, and then, gripping the rail, « ascended. The ascent required courage now, certainly. He halted again before the door at the top. But even as he stood there came to him, in low, rich tones, the notes of a German song. He entered. And Mr. Richter rose in shirt-sleeves from his desk to greet him, all smiling « Ach, my friend I " said he, "but you are late. The Judge has been awaiting you." "Has he?" inquired Stephen, with ill-concealed anx- iety. The big young German patted him on the shoulder. Suddenly a voice roared from out the open transom of the private office, like a cyclone rushing through a gap. " Mr. Richter I " o o r " Sir I " " Who is that ? " "Mr. Brice, sir." " Then why in thunder doesn't he come in ? " Mr. Richter opened the private door, and in Stephen walked. The door closed again, and there he was in the dragon s den, face to face with the dragon, who was star- 48 SILAS WHIPPLE 49 raLii-%J ^^^ *^? *i?'°"^^- ^^« fi"* objects that caught Stephen's attention were the grizzly irav eve- brows, whicli seemed as so much brush to marf the fire of the deep-set battery of the eyes. And that battery when in action, must have been truly terrible The Judge was shaven, save for a shaggy fringe of erav ent even m the full face. ^^ Stephen felt that no part of him escaped the search of Mr. Wliipple's glance. But it was no code or course of conduct that kept him silent. Nor was it few- entirely. 1 "So you are Appleton Brice's son," said the Judge, at iMt^ His tone was not quite so gruff as it might hkve " Yes, sir," said Stephen. «.1Y''T^ ^ " ^'? tl^eJudge, with a look that scarcely tSlT approval. « I guess you've been patted on the back too much by your father's friends." He leaned whn ^°,^^« \««den cWr. "How I used to detest people who patted boys on the back and said with a smirk 'I could say that about. But, sir," cried the Judge, King- A^ir °^? ^"^/^^ ""^ *^® ^^"«^ *>^ P»P«™ that covered his desk, "I made up my mind that one day people should v.^°^T>r''T. ?^*' Zf^ "^y «P"'- -^"d you'll start fair here, Mr. Brice. They won't know your father here _ " If Stephen thought the Judge brutal, he did not say so. He glanced around the Uttle room, -at the bed in the corner, m which the Judge slept, and which during the day did not escape the flood of books and paper?: at the washstand, with a roll of legal cap beside tUpitcher. I guess you think this town pretty crude after Boston, Mr. Brice, Mr. Whipple continued. "From time im- memorial It has been the pleasant habit of old commu- nities to be shocked at newer settlements, built by their own countrymen. Are you shocked, sir ^ " Stephen flushed. Fortunately the Judge did not give him time to answer. *^ i !.' ■i 50 THE CBISIS »♦ Why didn't your mother let me know that she coming ? " " She didn't wish to put you to any trouble, sir." ♦* Wasn't I a good friend of your father's ? Didn't I ask you to come nere and go into my office ? " " But there was a chance, Mr. Whipple — " "A chance of what?" " That you would not like me. And there is still a chance of it," added Stephen, smiling. For a second it looked as if the Judge might smile, too. He rubbed his nose with a fearful violence. *' Mr. Richter tells me you were looking for a bank," said he, presently. Stephen quaked. " Yes sir, I was, but — " But Mr. Whipple tiierely picked up the Counterfeit Bank Note Detector. " Beware of Western State Currency as you would the devil," said he. "That's one thing we don't equal the East in — yet. And so you want to become a lawyer?" " I intend to become a lawyer, sir." "And so you shall, sir," cried the Judge, bringing down his yellow fist upon the Bank Note Deteetor. " I'll make you a lawyer, sir. But my methods ain't Harvard methods, sir." " I am ready to do anything, Mr. Whipple." The Judge merely grunted. He scratched among his papers, and produced some legal cap and a bunch of notes. " Go out there," he said, " and take off your coat and copy this brief. Mr. Richter will help you to-day. And tell your mother I shall do myself the honor to call upon her this evening." Stephen did as he was told, without a word. ?ut Mr. Richter was not in the outer office when he returned to it. He tried to compose hlr^self to write, although the recol- lection of each act of the morning hung like a cloud over the back of his head. Therefore the first sheet of legal cap was spoiled utterly. But Stephen had a deep sense of failure. He had gone through the ground glass door SILAS WHIPPLE 51 th^'cSte'cl^T.,^,""' *» "^ho'-l-one other »^-47fzr>^^t^'^^„ste"trofi head, one hand nlanted firmly on the eold hMd of h^u " Whom)ee I " he cried. . *;"* of ^1 there was an eloquent silence Tl,«« - ^Mfi^anT.- Then^hescrltc^yxitchofr^quiU pen, and finaUy the Judge's voice. ^ A ^1^ '^^** i?* *^®^1'« **»« °»a«er with you sir ? » overcome «>»e of you"", ridlc„lol%^dS>I*'s?r/°" ""^ ^A^|nintelligible gurgle oame from the Judge. Then w. fli THE CRISIS " Carvel, haven't you and I quarrelled enouflrh on that subject ? " " You didn't happen to attend the nigger auction this morning when you were at the court ? " asked the ColoneL blandly. " Colonel," said the Judge, " I've warned you a hundred times against the stuflP you lay out on your counter for customers." "You weren't at the auction, then," continued the Colonel, undisturbed. ♦♦ You missed it, sir. You missed seeing this young man you've just employed buy the prettiest quadroon wench I ever set eyes on. Now indeed was poor Stephen on his feet. But whether to fly in at the one entrance or out at the other, he was undecided. "Colonel," said Mr. Whipple, "is that true?" "Sir I" "MR. BRICE!" It did not seem to Stephen as if he was walking when he went toward the ground glass door. He opened it. There was Colonel Carvel seated on the bed, his goatee in his hand. And there was the Judge leaning forward from his hips, straight as a ramrod. Fire was darting from beneath his bushy eyebrows. " Mr. Brice," said he, "there is one question I always ask of those whom I employ. I omitted it in your case because I have known your father and your grandfather before you. What is your opinion, sir, on the subject of holding human beinjra in bondage ? " " The answer was immediate, — likewise simple! "I do not believe in it, Mr. Whipple." The Judge shot out of his chair like a long jack-in-the box, and towered to his full height. " Mr. Brice, did you, or did you not, buy a woman at auction to-day ? " "I did, sir." Mr. Whipple literally staggered. But Stephen caught a ghmpse of the Colonel's hand slipping from his chin over his mouth. SILAS WHIPPLE 09 " Good God, sir I "cried the Judge, and he sat down heavily. " You say that you are an Abolitionist ?' A\I?' "'Vl "* "?* '**^ **'*^- ^"* »* ^ Stephen looked gratefully at the Colonel. " 1 did not expect one, sir," he said. "^fi? ^""J ^J""^.^ deserve one, sir," cried the Judge. "J think I do," replied Stephen, quietly. ^ 1 he Judge suppressed something. « J^?*V 2 ^"""i \7'^^ ii"'^ P«"°^ ^ " h« demanded. Stephe^ '^' ^'*°''' boarding-house," said u,),^.!,'^**' *^/ Colonel's turn to explode. The guffaw ^ 0^"°?.^!?^,^"?/^"^^ «^«'y «**»er sound. ^ 1 u J*^ ^°^J ^'*^ t**« J"dge, helplessly. Asain he looked at the Colonel and this^time someth^ing 3 like ,wl^ ? T'^'^.u^'i' It. ^'*°»«- *' And what do^ you intend to do with her ? " he asked in strange tones. ^ 10 give her freedom, sir, as soon as I can find some- body to go on her bond." Again silence. Mr. Whipple rubbed his nose with more than customary violence, and looked very hard at Mr. Carvel, whose face was inscrutable. It was a solemn moment. nnJ' 2"*^«':,8^id the Judge, at length, "take off your coat, sir. I will go her bond." ^ I n I i i h 1 «* THE CRISIS I* WM Stephen's turn to be taken aback. He stood re- garding the Judge curiously, wondering what manner of man he was. He did not know that this question had puzzled many before him. " Thank vou, sir," he said. His hand was on the knob of the door, whei Mr. His voice had lost Mr. Whipple called him back abruptly, some of its gruffness. '* What were your father's ideas about slavery, Brioe ? " The young man thought a moment, as if seeking to be exact. ** I suppose he would have put slavery among the neces- sary evils, sir," he said, at length. " But he never could bear to have the Liberator mentioned in his presence. He was not »t aU in sympathy with Phillips, or Parker, or Sumner. And such was the general feeling among his friends." " Then," said the Judge, " contrary to popular opinion in the West and South, Boston is not all Abolition.'*^ Stephen smiled. "The conservative classes are not at all Abolitionists, sir." "The conservative classes I" growled the Judge, "the conservative classes! I am tired of hearing about the conservative classes. Why not come out with it, sir, and say the moneyed classes, who would rather see souls held m bondage than risk their worldly goods in an attemot to liberate them ? " ^ Stephen flushed. It was not at all clear to him then how he was to get along with Judge Whipple. But he kept his temper. " I am sure that you do them an injustice, sir," he said, with more feeling than he had yet shown. "I am not speaking of the rich alone, and I think that if you knew Boston you would not say that the conservative class there is wholly composed of wealthy people. Many of my father's friends were by no means wealthy. And I know that if he had been poor he would have held the same views." SILAS WHIPPLE 55 Stephen did not mark the quick look of approval which Colonel Carvel gave him. Judge Whipple merely rubbed his nose. " Well, air," he said, " what were his views, then ? " " My father regarded slaves as property, sir. And con- servative people^' (Stephen stuck to the word) "respect propertv the world over. My father's argument was this : If men are deprived bv vi 'ence of one kind of property which they hold unde? .hj . »w, all other kinds of oroperty will be endangerei. "ho rt „,[, will be an- archy. Furthermore, he recov»iiiz,:a th a h economic conditions in the South mak sJ v. v iccfss y t« pros- perity. Andheregarded J! ■•ov.n;«m np.a.' ween the states of the two sections as sainvK" There was a brief silen - , durwi- v/.iu.i rhe uncompro- mising expression of the oaiir- c ui j u hang^ " And do you, sir ? " he dtaiuml ;i. "I am not sure, sir, after what f s vw' joHtt.day. I I must have time to see more of it. ' " Good Lord," said Colonel Carvel, " if the conservative people of the North act this way when they see a slave sale, what will the Abolitionists do ? Whipple," he added slowly, but with conviction, "this means war." Then the Colonel got to his feet, and bowed to Stephen with ceremony. "Whatever you believe, sir," he said, "permit me to shake your hand. You are a brave man, sir. And although my own belief is that the black race is held in subjection by a divine decree, I can admire what you have done, Mr. Brice. It was a noble act, sir, — a right noble act. And I have more respect for the people of Boston, now, sir, than I ever had before, sir." Having delivered himself of this somewhat dubious compliment (which he meant well), the Colonel departed. Judge Whipple said nothing. ' I ■■■■{ i! I' CHAPTER VII OALLBBS .J' f^^^'ices had created an excitement npon their arnval, it was as nothing to the mad delirium Jwk raged at Miss Crane's boafding-housT during thT sTconl afternoon of their stay. Twenty times was Miss Crane on the Doint of requesting Mrs. Brice to le™, ^d twe^?v times, fcy the advice of W Abner Reed shnesTsted^ The °J^°"nation came when the news leiked ou ttai Mr. Stephen Bnce had bought the young woman in order to give her Ireedom. like thow who haTdone noble acts since the world began, Stephen that niriit™ both a hero and a fool. The creanj from which hfrcLTtS made is verv apt to turn. ^® ** " Phew I ' cried S^'^phen, when they had reached their E Sid' *"{^ "™"\ttat meal a Lrful ex^rienc^^J L.et s find a hovel, mother, and so and live in if wl can't stand it here any longir." ^® T 'l?°x. ^ y°" P®"^** *° your career of reforming an Institution, my «,n,'' answered the widow, sSg ^ hZliJ^ ^"^^^ ^^^ ^"*^^" «*id he, "that I should ^ve beer shouldered with that experience the first X But I have tried to think it over calmly since, and I^n aee nothing else to have done." He paused Sh^PacS^ "?t wi auTte'Ari!' 5'!;^S?"?» ^^ ^ ^rious^K « The family has never been called impetuous," replied his mother. " It must be the Western aiV^" ^ nna l^f *^^^ ^^'""^ "«^^"- ">« "^ther had not said rs^^rfe^tr^^- ^eitherhadhe. Once^m^l.' 66 0ALLBB8 ^ 80 much better if you would " "*°"^^ ^«®^ .ighf of the g^tifu™ of &^,'° "1" "'» *" "■<- Oail never foreet the oH ^« ^' ""»'»«. Nuncy. I daughter. nCde^^Z''^'J''X '» t^« »«ht o't her kercWerdol ""' ""• »"»• ""'"y P""'-? the h«,d. '"■•^':r i?:i:^-;!^<'^^« "'^ ™^ '"" "- "^^ NMj^jresMd into the room. " Mi.' Brice I » ''ns;i^» ^-«---^ '"'"-'■ ""rt "r'r"" *° ^o datroh.''S^..'^PP^, ?"" '"«'' "You may unpack them, Nancy," she said bJktntj^^a^M^ t.h^/H tm^-talce off her Hester ? " she cried ^'*'* ^°" «^°°^n' dere, " Hester is tired," said Mm ««•«« - tears came to her eyes airai^atZ^^^ had both been through S day '*'""«^^' °^ ^^'^^ '^'y "Tired," said Nancy, holding up her hands. "No'm, i . ^jS^rj>- S8 THE CRISIS She des kinder stupefied by you' goodness, she ain' tired. Mis' Brice." hirtd gfr "^^ ^""^^ ^^ ^^^ appearance of Miss Crane's infi TWJ ^.^^'^^^^ Cluyme sniflfed a little as he was ushered nto MiM Crane's best parlor, it was perhaps because of the stuffy dampness of that room. M^ Cluyn.e wto one of those persons the eflfusiveness of whose greetinrdo^s not tally with the limpness of their grafp Sf wL i?fnV of ^°i'. ^^ '">^^°^ **^«™' " » °»an who kindles a wSskerJ^'^li"' V'"'":- The gentleman had red ch^p whi-^h S"~^i?"^*°"5i^ ^""^ ^"« ^«"* «de foremost, - which demanded a ruddy face. He welcomed Stephen to St. Louis with neighborly effusion ; while his wife a round little woman, bubbled over to Mrs. BrL ' 'My dear sir," said Mr. Cliiyme, "I used often to go to Boston in the forties. In fact - ahem - 1 may dai^ Bu^whl'T ^°^IS°^r\ ^^?' °«' ^ °«^«' met yourythT But when I heard of the sad circumstances of his death, JA-^ '^? ^^ ^^.* * P«"°°»^ ^"«°d. His probityrsir and his religious principles were an honor to the Athens ImTs^uJaTk''''''^ ^,™y ^"«'»*^' Mr. Atterbury! — Mr. bamuel Atterburv, — eulogize him by the hour." Steohen was surprised. ;; Why, yes," said he, «Mn Atterbury was a friend." "Of course," said Mr. Cluyme, "I knew it Fnnr years ago, the last business trip^ iade t^Ztin, l^^i Atterbury on the street. Absence makes no differincTto some men, sir, nor the West, for that matter. They n?ver change. Atterbury nearly took me in his arms.^ 'My dear fellow,' he cried 'how long are you t^ be in you to dinner, says he, 'but step into the Tremont House and haye a bite.'- Wasn't that like AtterbuT^'' Stephen thought it was. But Mr. Cluyme was evi- dently expecting no answer. ' ^* « Well, ' saidlie, " what I was going to say was that we CALLEES ^ of the refinement, Stephen. I how I m»v f.^^ '' '""'* StepheT^ ^ *'"'' *'■»' "y """'er will go out™ «.id of m?ue oi. nT°},. u ^"^ '?' Americans ie a ZS Kno^ Nothing B.Tii- "^^"^ J-'-'kly. "I don't mean a ^. My father waa not an Abolitionist, air," safdTtephen, ;; Quite right, quite right," aaid Mr. Clnyme. " But I am not sure, since I have come he™ th.t i k. not some sympathy and .^pect for the IboSioSul ""^ voio^^.t;is^rift> ' -i? ifsSl^Kr? "i' atTouran"/ """ " "'O, -Ahtcou^n^s^li." tu fne^rf teic»hTUTrm^2^Vrie'° i" who are for gZ^.^^!^^^ '^^o^ -^J ^. 60 THE CRISIS ll » ?i it not land population here is small yet compared to the South- erners. And they are very violent, sir." Stephen could not resist saying, " Judge Whipple does ot seem to have tempered himself, sir." "Silas Whipple is a fanatic, sir," cried Mr. Cluyme. " His hand is against every man's. He denounces Doug- las on the slightest excuse, and would go to Washington when Congress opens to fight with Stephens and Toombs and Davis. But what good does it do him ? He might h J been in the Senate, or on the Supreme Bench, had hb not stirred up so much hatred. And yet I can't help liking Whipple. Do you know him ? " A resounding ring of the door-bell cut off Stephen's reply, and Mrs. Cluyme's small talk to Mrs. Brice. In the hall rumbled a familiar voice, and in stalked none other than Judge Whipple himself. Without noticing the other occupants of the parlor he strode up to Mrs. Brice, looked at her for an instant from under the grizzled brows, and held out his large hand. "Pray, ma'am," he said, "what have you done with your slave ? " Mrs. Cluyme emitted a muffled shriek, like that of a person frightened in a dream. Her husband grasped the curved back of his chair. But Stephen smiled. And his mother smiled a little, too. "Are you Mr. Whipple?" she asked. " I am, madam," was the reply. " My slave is upstairs, I believe, unpacking my trunks," said Mrs. Brice. Mr. and Mrs. Cluyme exchanged a glance of consterna- tion. Then Mrs. Cluyme sat down again, rather heavily, as though her legs had refused to hold her. " Well, well, ma'am I " The Judge looked again at Mrs. Brice, and a gleam of mirth lighted the severity of his face. He was plainly pleased with her — this serene lady in black, wh<»e voice had the sweet ring of women who are well born and whose manner was so self-con- tained. To speak truth, the Judge was prepared to dis- like her. He had never laid eyes upon her, and as he ^f CALLEB8 ef walked hither from his house he seemed to foresee a help- less little woman who, once he h*d called, would flina her Boston pride to the winds and dump her woes upon him. He looket; again, and decidedly approved of Mre. Brice and was unaware that his glance embarrassed her. Clu me?" ' ^^^ ^^^' "^" ^""^ ^'^^ ^*- *'*^ ^* ■ . '^!*lf ^ ^^^^^ ^^'"^ ^^"^ abruptly, nodded fero- ciously at Mr. Cluyme and took the hand that fluttered out to him from Mrs. Cluyme. h/* ^TZ *^^ i" n^^. • " ^^«l»»™«i that lady, " I reckon we do. And my Belle is so fond of him. She thinks there IS no one equal to Mr. Whipple. Judge, you must come round to a family supper. Belle will surpass herself." UmphI said the Judge, "I think I like Edith best of your girls, ma am." "Edith is a good daughter, if I do say it myself," said Mrs. Cluyme. " I have tried to do right by my children " She was stUl greatly flustered, and curiosity about the matter of the slave burned upon her face. Neither the sr«k? nor Mrs. Brice were people one could catechise. Stephen, scanning the Judge, was wondering how far he regarded the matter as a joke. S.^^^ll!^'^''?^^^?^'- Whipple, as he seated himself vl i^r?^^' f""^ ?! ^^^ horeehair sofa, "I'll warrant when you left Boston tliat you did not expect to own a slave the day after you arrived in St. Louis/' ** But I do not own her," said Mrs. Brice. "It is mv son who owns her." ^ This was too much for Mr. Cluyme. " What ! "he cried to Stephen. " You own a slave '^ I ou, a mere boy, have bought a negress ? " "And what is more, sir, I approve of it," the Judge put offior'^*^ " *"" ^""'"^ ^"^ **^® *^^ ^""''^ °^*" "»to my Mr. Cluyme gradually retired into the back of his chair, looking at Mr. Whipple as though he expected him to touch a match to the window curtains. But Mr Oiuyme was elastic. THE CRISIS have no right^to deptv^r brrhVn' oTfherpro^l"' of their very means of livelihood." property - ihe Judge grinned diabolicallv. Mm rin^«,« « yet too stunned to sneak n^w fel l ; ^^"7™^ was as gunppwderTn ?he ^r^' ^'^^ ®^P^"" « '""^^^^ »«iffed relic ofbat ri.r^„T h"? J° *'?'y ."y abhorrence of . " W.II .i, { ?^? '*''* °' »■"'<"> »nd peace." nin/fcb'bTtrr^J^rtfn w" '"'«'-?« '«•"• a fcny lineer^ Mr f^^*^ « "'**' *»* pointed grovelfed^ uj fcS"'^, ^"""^ » ""^i^J l>»d And the Unio, ^-iU nevT£ a^e'u^'l^ '" "^^ "»''"'• of modern timt ,» wiwd on? ^hi^ 'hj.greatest crime ir'oor Mrs. Cluyme gasped app^-^otMr-^J^ic^rownX- "^"""^ ^O" »» r««^ • J"-?^®'* approved of any other. Good niirhfc «v Orood night, madam " Rnf f« Ir. o • r "igT"*, sir. and tool hir hand It h2^ '^ '!['^ ^,* ^^""«* o^«' bowed. ThTs is not ceLt' ^'^ '"''''' ^^*^°^^^ ^^* ^« " Good night, madam," he said " I shall naii ^• pay my respecte when y'ou are noi occu^^""^^ *«^ *^ CHAPTER Vin BELLBOABDB young mi,tre» Ie»pedl„to vf«n^ Jddle fj''"* ."l" darkey to follow uoon hlinlr n.nr ""T*'- i«avmg the the s^eet, greaVy^o" tl^'ad^iSLr^t rhrn'f.hto'^^ They threw oDen their windows to wave at her Z.v"' gmia pressed W lips and stared straight ahead ' ^L "' going out to see the Russell girls at th«irf„!f. ^^ "^^^ Place on Bellefontaine Cdf esp^ciallv tl nr^'l '"'""^^ detestation for a certain voungXniee umtX «V"* t^i ••He?e\fcVars^ltf™r/ewbr?l"'"v''"'-"- •tay aU day and to-night " Ori«">». Yoa muet to MirR'us!X'"^m liTr;:^:' 't™'""^ '"-p^'-tiy at finding tie straneer ° I^ni", ' "" disappointed am going^o haveTChday ZJ iH" W*" T ""t' ' murt be sure to oome, «.d b^S^7o«?l« tr-'''"'- ^"" " You're not going ? " she said. 68 64 THE CRISIS \ " To Bellegarde for dinner," answered Virginia. " But it's only ten o'clock," said Puas. " And, Jinny ? ** " There's a new young man in town, and they do say his appearance is very striking — not exactly handsome, you know, but strong looking. " He's horrid I " said Virmnia. " He's a Yankee." " How do you know ? " demanded Puss and Emily in chorus. "^ " And he's no gentleman," said Virginia. ** But how do you know, Jinny ? " " He's an upstart." " Oh. But he belongs to a very good Boston family, they say." "^ " There are no good Boston families," replied Virginia, with conviction, as $he separated her reins. "He has proved that. Who ever heard of a good Yankee family ? " "What has he done to you, Virginia?" asked Puss, who had brains. Virginia glanced at the guest. But her grievance was too hot within her for suppression. "Do you remember Mr. Benbow's Hester, girls? The one I always said I wanted. She was sold at auction yesterday. Pa and I were passing the Court House, with Clarence, when she was put up for sale. We crossed the street to see what was going on, and there was your strong-looking Yankee standing at the edge of the crowd. I am quite sure that he saw me as plainly as I see you, Puss Russell." " How could he help it ? " said Puss, slyly. Virginia took no notice of the remark. " He heard me ask Pa to buy her. He heard Clarence say that he would bid her in for me. I know he did. And yet he goes in and outbids Clarence, and buys her himself. Do you think any gentleman would do that. Puss Russell ? " " He bought her himself ! " cried the astonished Miss Russell. "Why, I thought that all Bostoniaus were Abolitionists." I BELLEOABDE ^ o«r]P'u ?%"*ii? ''T'" «^^ ^« Carvel, oontemptu- ^^^•1. ;.''"??! W*"PPl«™t on her bond tUav." Afiaa Ruwell was likewise courageous-"! don't see why not. You have Judge Whipple every SunX ^ dinner, and he's an Abolitionist." ^ ^ Virginia drew herself up. dign1?y5* ^^^^^^ ^" °®''" '°"^*^ °**'" "^^ «^^ ^ith Puss gave way to laughter. Whereupon, despite her protests and prayers for forgiveness, Vir^a t^t to heJ wfS *^*/,? and gaUoped ol. They saw her turn north- ward on the Belief ontaine Road. Presently the woodland hid from her sight the noble nver shimng far below, and Virginia fulled VbTen between the ^teposts which markecf the eStrance toher fn^. ?K*'S \4?8rarde. Half a mile through throoOl forwt, the black dirt of the driveway flying f rom Vix^s hoo s^and there w^ the Colfax ho,ie on tie e^^e of the gentle slope ; and beyond it the orchard, and the blue grapes withenng on the vines, -and beyond that fleld^ boat hung in wisps abo^ ater. A young nejrro was busily washing the broao nda, but he stoS Tn" straightened at siflrht of the young horsewoman?^^ bambo, where's your mistress ? " while^^a" ^"""^"^ ^'"^ "^^^^^^ •** ""^ ^««^ l«««e said^Nlf '^^ atter Miss Lilly, yo' good-fo'-nuthin' niggah," 3tan theh wif yo' mouf open ^ " himTa^k.''^ "^^'"^ '^' *"'"*' ""^^^ ^^ ^»'»i°»* «^^ " Where's Mr. Clarence ? " « Young Masr ? I'll fotch him, Miss Jinny. He ^ i-C THE CRISIS ail H come home f mn aeein* that thar trottin' hoM he's gwine to race nex* week." Ned, who had tied Calhoun and was holdine his mis- tress's bridle, sniffed. He had been Colonel Carvel's jockey in his vounger days. ** Shucks I * he said contemptuously. " I hoped to die befo' the day a gemman'd own er trottah. Jinny. On'y runnin' bosses is fit fo' ffemmen." **Ned," said Virginia, **I shall be eighteen in two weeks and a young lady. On that day you must call me ♦MissJinny.'^" Ned's face showed both astonishment and inouiry. ** Jinny, ain't I nussed you always ? Ain't I come up- stairs to quiet you when yo' mammy ain't had no power ovah yo'? Ain't I cooked fo' ^o', and ain't I followed you every wheres sino^ I quit ridin' yo' pa's bosses to vic- t'nr ? Ain't I one of de f ambly ? An' yit yo' ax me to call yo* Miss Jinny ? " "Then you've had privileges enough," Virginia an- swered. "One week irom to-morrow you are to say *Miss Jinny.'" ** I'se tell you what. Jinny," he answered mischievously, with an emphasis on the word, '^I'se call vou Miss Jinny ef you 11 call me MUtah Johnton. JtRttak Johruon. You aint gwinter forget ? MUtah Johmon." ** I'll remember," she said. ** Ned," she demanded sud- denly, '* would you like to be free ? " Tne negro started. "Why you ax me dat. Jinny?" " Mr. Benbow's Hester is free," she said. " Who done freed her ? " Miss Virginia flushed. ** A detestable young Yankee, who has come out hain :o meddle with what doesn't con- cern him. I wanted, f ? vaster, Ned. And you should have married her, if you behaved yourself." Ned laughed uneasily. "I reckon I'se too oJ' fo' Heste'." And added with privileged impudence, ** There ain't no cause why I can't marry her now." BELLEOARDB ff VirginiA suddenly leaped to the ground without hiH anutanoe. "That's enough, Ned," she said, and started toward the nouse. " £r°?7 ' ^** •^•'^y •' " The call was pUintive. "Well, what?" F"""wvo. "Miss Jinnv, I seed that thar young gemman. Lan' sakes, he am' look like er Yankee— -" "Ned," said Virginia, sternly, "do you want to go back to cooking ? " He quailed. " Oh, no'm. Lan' sakes, no'm. I didn't mean nuthin ." She turned, frowned, and bit her lip. Around the cor- ner of the veranda she ran into her cousin. He, too, was booted and spurred. He reached out, boyishly, to catch her in his arms. But she drew back from his grasp. " Why, Jinny," he cried, " what's the matter ? " "Nothing, Max." She often called him so, his middle name being Maxwell. "But you have no right to do tnat. "To do what?" said Clarence, making a face. A " : ^"„. °f.'." ""wered Virginia, curtly. " Where's Aunt Lillian ? . "Why haven't I the right?" he asked, ignoring the inquiry. ® * " Because you have not, unless I choose. And I don't tt"^'®^^**^ ^"fif'y ^^*^ ™® **ill^ I* wasn't my fault. Uncle Comyn made me come away. You should have had the girl. Jinny, if it took my fortune." "You have been drinking this morning, Max," said Virginia. "Only a julep or so," he replied apologetically. "I rode oyer to the race track to see the new trotter. I've called him Halcyon, Jinny," he continued, with enthusi- asm. « And he'll win the handicap sure." She sat down on the veranda steps, with her knees crossed and her chin resting on her hands. The air was Heavy with the perfume of the grapes and the smell of S^i 1 ^^B^^^' . -AS > ^- .\.. ju.:.'^ ^ ■ .JJ.T KMjt laS&jn -^-a^ ■r-.T-^-T-mj— Hmri,. -ji MKXOCOTY RfSOUITION TfST CHART (ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No. 2) I.I lit ■a u 1^ |£ 2.2 133 116 14.0 I— 1.8 I jS A /APPLIED M/GE Ine 165 J East Main Street RochMtar, New York U609 USA (716) «2 - 0300 - Phoo* (716) 288 - 5989 - Fojc 68 THE CRISIS late flowers from the sunken garden near by. A blue haze hung over the Illinois shore. "Max, you promised me you wouldn't drink so much." " And I haven't been, Jinny, 'pon ray word," he replied. " But I met old Sparks at the Tavern, and he started to talk about the horses, and -^ and he insisted." " And you hadn't the strength of character," she said, scornfully, "to refuse." " Pshaw, Jinny, a gentleman must be a gentleman. I'm no Yankee." For a space Virginia answered nothing. Then she said, without changing her position : — " If you were, you might be worth something." " Virginia ! " She did not reply, but sat gazing toward the water. He began to pace the veranda, fiercely. " Look here, Jinny," he cried, pausing in front of her. " There are some things you can't say to me, even in jest." Virginia rose, flicked her riding- whip, and started down the steps. " Don't be a fool, Max," she said. He followed her, bewildered. She skirted the garden, passed the orchard, and finally reached a summer house perched on a knoll at the edge of the wood. Then she seated herself on a bench, silently. He took a place on the opposite side, with his feet stretched out, dejectedly. " I m tired trying to please you," he said. " I have been a fool. You don't care that for me. It was all right when I was younger, when there was no one else to take you riding, and jump off the barn for your amuse- ment. Miss. Now you have Tom Catherwood and Jack Brinsmade and the Russell boys running after you, it's different. I reckon I'll go to Kansas. There are Yankees to shoot in Kansas." He did not see her smile as he sat staring at his feet. " Max," said she, all at once, " why don't you settle down to something ? Why don't you work ? " Young Mr. Colfax's arm swept around in a circle. % W^W:'^ * BELLEGARDE 69 " There are twelve hundred acres to look after here, and a few niggers. That's enough for a gentleman." " Pooh I " exclaimed his cousin, " this isn't a cotton plantation. Aunt Lillian doesn't farm for money. If she did, you would have to check your extravagances mighty quick, sir." " I look after Pompey's reports, I do as much work as my ancestors," answered Clarence, hotly. " Ah, that is the trouble," said Virginia. " What do you mean ? " her cousin demanded. " We have been gentlemen too long," said Virginia. The boy straightened up and rose. The pride and wilfulness of generations was indeed in his handsome face. And something else went with it. Around the mouth a grave tinge of indulgence. "What has your life been?" she went on, speaking rapidly. "A mixture of gamecocks and ponies and race horses and billiards, and idleness at the Virginia Springs, and fighting with other boys. What do you know? You wouldn't go to college. You wouldn't study law. You can't write a decent letter. You don't know any- thing about the history of your country. What can you do — ? " "I can ride and fight," he said. « I can go to New Orleans to-morrow to join Walker's Nicaragua expedition. Weve got to beat the Yankees,— they'll have Kansas away from us before we know it." Virginia's eye flashed appreciation. "Do you remember. Jinny, ' he cried, "one day long ago when those Dutch hoodlums were teasing you and Anne on the road, and Bert Russell and Jack and I came along? We whipped 'em, Jinny. And my eye was closed. And you were bathing it here, and one of my buttons was gone. And you counted the rest." "Rich man, poor man, beggarman, thief, — doctor, lawyer, merchant, chief;' she recited, laughing. She crossed over and sat beside him, and her tone changed. " Max, can't you understand ? It isn't that. Max, if you would only work at something. That is why the Yankees beat i \l wr 70 THE CRISIS I ii I "' us. If you would learn to weld iron, or to build bridges, or railroads. Or if you would learn business, and go to work in Pa's store." " You do not care for me as I am ? " " I knew that you did not understand," she answered passionately. " It is because I care for you that I wisli to make you great. You care too much for a good time, for horses, Max. You love the South, but you think too little how she is to be saved. If war is to come, we shall want men like that Captain Robert Lee who was here. A man who can turn the forces of the earth to his own purposes." For a moment Clarence was moodily silent. " I have always intended to go into politics, after Pa's example," he said at length. " Then — " began Virginia, and paused. "Then — ?" he said. "Then — you must study law." He gave her the one keen look. And she met it, with her lips tightly pressed together. Then he smiled. "Virginia, you will never forgive that Yankee, Brice." "I shall never forgive any Yankee," she retorted quickly. "But we are not talking about him. I am thinking of the South, and of you." He stooped toward her face, but she avoided him and went back to the bench. « Why not ? " he said. " You must prove first that you are a man," she said. For years he remembered the scene. The vineyard, the yellow stubble, and the river rushing on and on with tranquil power, and the slow panting of the steamboat. A doe ran out of the forest, and paused, her head raised, not twenty feet away. "And then you will marry me. Jinny?" he asked finally. " Before you may hope to control another, we shall see whether you can control yourself, sir." "But it has all been arranged," he exclaimed, "since we played here together years ago 1 " BELLEGARDE 71 " No one shall arrange that for me," replied Virginia, promptly. "And I should think that you would wish to have some of the credit for yourself." « Jinny I " Again she avoided him by leaping the low railing. The doe fled into the forest, whistling fearfully. Vir- ginia waved her hand to him and started toward the house. At the corner of the porch she ran into her aunt. Mrs. Colfax was a beautiful woman. Beautiful when Addison Colfax married her in Kentucky at nineteen, beau- tiful still at three and forty. This, I am aware, is a bald statement. "Prove it," you say. "We do not believe it. It was told you by some old beau who lives upon the memory of the past." Ladies, a score of different daguerrotypes of Lillian Colfax are in existence. And whatever may be said of portraits, daguerrotypes do not flatter. All the town admitted that she was beautiful. All the town knew that she was the daughter of old Judge Colfax's overseer at Halcyondale. If she had not been beautiful, Addison Col- fax would not have run away with her. That is certain. He left her a rich widow at five and twenty, mistress of the country place he had bought on the Bellefontaine Road, near St. Louis. And when Mrs. Colfax was not dancing off to the Virginia watering-places, Bellegarde was a gay house. " Jinny," exclaimed her aunt, " how you scared me I What on earth is the matter ? " "Nothing," said Virginia — " She refused to kiss me," put in Clarence, half in play, half in resentment. Mrs. Colfax laughed musically. She put one of her white hands on each of her niece's cheeks, kissed her, and then gazed into her face until Virginia reddened. "Law, Jinny, you're quite pretty," said her aunt. "I hadn't realized it — but you must take care of your complexion. You're horribly sunburned, and you let your hair blow all over your face. It's barbarous not to wear a mask when vou ride. Your Pa doesn't look after 72 THE CRISIS you properly. I would ask you to stay to the dance to-night if your skin were only white, instead of red. You're old enough to know better, Virginia. Mr. Vance was to have driven out for dinner. Have you seen him. Clarence?" ^ "No, mother." " He is so amusing," Mrs. Colfax continued, '♦ and he generally brings candy. I shall die of the blues before supper." She sat down with a grand air at the head of the table, while Alfred took the lid from the silver soup- tureen in front of her. "Jinny, can't you say some- thing bright ? Do I have to listen to Clarence's horse talk for another hour ? Tell me some gossip. Will you have some gumbo soup ? " " Why do you listen to Clarence's horse talk ? " said Virginia. " Why don'jb you make him go to work ? " " Mercy I " said Mrs. Colfax, laughing, « what could he do?" " That's just it," said Virginia. " He hasn't a serious interest in life." Clarence looked sullen. And his mother, as usual, took his side. " What put that into your head. Jinny," she said. " He has the place here to look after, a very gentlemanly occu- pation. That's what they do in Virginia." " Yes," said Virginia, scornfully, " we're all gentlemen in the South. What do we know about business and developing the resources of the country ? Not that." "You make my head ache, my dear," was her aunt's reply. « Where did you get all this ? " "You ask me because I am a girl," said Virginia. " You believe that women were made to look at, and to play with, — not to think. But if we are going to get ahead of the Yankees, we shall have to think. It was all very well to be a gentleman in the days of my great-grand- father. But now we have railroads and steamboats. And who builds them? The Yankees. We of the South think of our ancestors, and drift deeper and deeper into debt. We know how to fight, and we know how to com- BELLEGARDE 78 mand. But we have been ruined bv " ^oro »!,« ~i j How mean of Mr. Vance not to come I YouVe bfertalk l^^^u%^^''^''^''''• ^* i^'^'^^ fashionable. I suppoJe you wish Clarence to go into a factory." s^PPose "If I were a man,'^ said Virginia; "and goinff into a factory would teach me how to make a locomotfve or a cotton press, or to build a bridge, I should go in to a fac! t£7mon^t?eL'lnTrrun'd^^'' ''' ^"^'^^« ""^'^ ^ --* I i CHAPTER IX A QUIET SUNDAY IN LOCUST STREET If the truth were known where Virginia got the opin- ions which she expressed so freely to her aunt and cousin, it was from Colorel Carvel himself. The Colonel would rather have denounced the Dred Scott decision than ad- mit to Judge Whipple that one of the greatest weaknesses of the South lay in her lack of mechanical and manufac- turing ability. But he had confessed as much in private to Captain Elijah Brent The Colonel would often sit for an hour or more, after supper, with his feet tucked up on the mantel and his hat on the back of his head, buried in thought. Then he would saunter slowly down to the Planters' House bar, which served the purposes of a club in those days, in search of an argument with other promi- nent citizens. The Colonel had his own particular chair in his own particular corner, which was always vacated when he came in at the door. And then he always had three fingers of the best Bourbon whiskey, no more and no less, every evening. He never met his bosom friend and pet antagonist at the Planters' House bar. Judge Whipple, indeed, took his meals upstairs, but he never descended, — it was generally supposed because of the strong slavery atmosphere there. However, the Judge went periodically to his friend's tor a quiet Sunday dinner (so called in derision by St. Louisans), on which occasions Virginia sat at the end of the table and endeavored to pour water on the flames when they flared up too fiercely. The Sunday following her ride to Bellegarde was the Judge's Sunday. Certain tastes which she had inherited had hitherto provided her with pleasurable sensations 74 A QUIET SUNDAY IN LOCUST STREET 75 while these battles were in progress. More than once had she scored a fair hit on the Judge for her father, — to the mutual delight of both gentlemen. But to-day she dreaded being present at the argument. Just why she dreaded it is a matter of feminine psychology best left to the reader for solution. The argument began, as usual, with the tearing apart limb by hmb of the unfortunate Franklin Pierce, bv Judge Whipple. ^ "What a miserable exhibition in the eyes of the world," said the Judge. " Franklin Pierce of New Hampshire " (he pronounced this name with in jnite scorn) " managed by Jefferson Davis of Mississippi I " " And he was well managed, sir," said the Colonel. "What a pliant tool of your Southern slaveholders! I hear that you are to give him a plantation as a re- ward. "No such thing, sir." " He deserves it,'" continued the Judge, with convic- tion. " See the magnificent forts he permitted Davis to bmld up in the South, the arsenals he let him stock. The country does not realize this. But the day will come when they will execrate Pierce before Benedict Arnold, sir. And look at the infamous Kansas-Nebraska act I That is the greatest crime, and Douglas and Pierce the greatest criminals, of the century." "Do have some more of that fried chicken. Judge," said Virginia. Mr. Whipple helped himself fiercely, and the Colonel smiled. "You should be satisfied now," said he. "Another Northern man is in the White House." "Buchanan! " roared the Judge, with his mouth full. "Another traitor, sir. Another traitor worse than the first. He swallows the Dred Scott decision, and smirks. What a blot on the history of this Republic ! O Lord ! " cried Mr. Whipple, " what are we coming to ? A North- ern man, he could gag and bind Kansas and force her into slavery against the will of her citizens. He packs I 76 THE CRISIS !! i '•'f his Cabinet to support the ruffir as you send over the borders. The very governors he ships out there, his henchmen, have their stomachs turned. Look at Walker, whom they are plotting against in Washington. He can't stand the smell of this Lecompton Constitution Buchanan is trying to jam down their throats. Jeffer- son Davis would have troops there, to be sure that it goes through, if ha had his way. Can't you see how one sin leads to another, Carvel ? How slavery is rapidly de- moralizing a free people ? " " It is because you won't let it alone where it belongs, sir," retorted the Colonel. It was seldom that he showed any heat in his replies. He talked slowly, and he had a way of stretching forth his hand to prevent the more eager Judge from interrupting him. "The welfare of the whole South, as matters now stand, sir, depends upon slavery. Our plantations could not exist a day without slave labor. If you abolished that institution, Judge Whipple, you would ruin millions of your fellow-countrymen, — jou ,ould reduce sovereign states to a situation of disgraceful dependence. And all, sir," now he raised his voice lest the Judge break in, " all, sir, for the sake of a low breed that ain't fit for freedom. You and I, who have tue Magna Charta and the Declara- tion of Independence behind us, who are descended from a race that has done nothing but rule for ten centuries and more, may well establish a Republic where the basis of stability is the self-control of the individual — as long as men such as you and I form its citizens. Look at the South Americans. How do Republics go there ? And the minute you and I let in niggers, who haven't any more self-control than dogs, on an equal basis, with aa much of a vote as you have, — niggers, sir, that have lived like wild beasts in the depths of the jungle since the days of Ham, — what's going to become of our Republic ? " " Education," cried the Judge. But the word was snatched out of his mouth. " Education isn't a matter of one generation. No, sir, nor two, nor three, nor four. But of centuries." A QUIET SUNDAY IN LOCUST STREET 77 "Sir," said the Judge, "I can point out negroes of intelligence and learning." 6 "^ «i "And I reckon you could teach some monkeys to talk *-ngli8h, and recite the catechism, and sing emotional hymns, if you brought over a couple of million from Africa, answered the Colonel, dryly, as he rose to put on nis hat and light a cigar. It was his custom to offer a cigar to the Judge, who invariably refused, and rubbed his nose with scornful violence. Virginia, on the verge of leaving, stayed on, fascinated by the turn the argument had taken. !!5^''"'..?[^j"^''',^ '^ hide-bound, sir," said Mr. Whipple. "No, Whipple," said the Colonel, " when God waskd off this wicked earth, and started new. He saw fit to put the sons of Ham in subjection. They're slaves of each other m Africa, and I reckon they're treated no better than they are here. Abuses can't be helped in any system, sir, though we are bettering them. Were the poor in London in the days of the Edwards as well off as our niggers are to-day ? " The Judge snorted. "A divine institution I " he shouted. " A black curse ' Because the world has been a wicked place of oppression since Noah s day, is that any reason why it should so con- tinue until the day of Judgment ? " The Colonel smiled, which was a sign that he was pleased with his argument. "Now, see here, Whipple," said he. "If we had any guarantee that you would let us alone where we are, to manage our slaves and to cultivate our plantations, there wouldn t be any trouble. But the country keeps on grow- ing and growing, and you're not content with half. You want everything, — all the new states must abolish slavery. And after a while you will overwhelm us, and ruin us, and make us paupers. Do you wonder that we contend for our rights, tooth and nail ? They are our rights." " If It had not been for Virginia and Maryland and the oouth, this nation would not be in existence." n 78 THE CRISIS The Colonel laughed. ** First rate, Jinny," he cried. " That's so." But the Judgtj was in a revery. He probably had not heard her. "The nation is going to the dogs," he said, mumbling rather to himself than to the others. "We shall never frosper until the curse is shaken off, or wiped out in blood, t clogs our progress. Our merchant marine, of which we were so proud, has been annihilated by these continued disturbar.es. But, sir," he cried, hammering his fist upon the table until the glasses rang, " the party that is to save us was born at Pittsburgh last year on Washing- ton's birthday. The Republican Party, sir." "Shucks I " exclaimed Mr. Carvel, with amusement. " The Black Republican Party, made up of old fools and young Anarchists, of Dutchmen and nigger-worshippers. Why, Whipple, that party's a ioke. Where's your leader ? " " In Illinois," was the quick response. "What's his name?" ''Abraham Lincoln^ sir," thundered Mr. Whipple. "And to my way of thinking he hae uttered a more sig- nificant phrase on the situation than any of your Wash- ington statesmen. « Thu government,' said he to a friend of mine, ' cannot exi»t ha\f slave and halffree.' " So impressively did Mr. Whipple pronounce these words that Mr. Carvel stirred uneasily, and in spite of himself, as though he were listening to an oracie. He recovered instantly. " He's a demagogue, seeking for striking phrases, sir. You re too intelligent a man to be taken in by such tis he." " I tell you h^ is not, sir." " I know hiiu, sir," cried the Colonel, taking down his feet. " He's an obscure lawyer. Poor white trash ! Torn down poor I My friend Mr. Richardson of Spring- field tells me he is low down. He was born in a log cabin, and spends most of his time in a drug-store telling stories that you would not listen to. Judge Whipple." " I would listen to anvthing he said," replied the Judge. "Poor white trash, sir I The greatest men rise from the A QUIET SUNDAY IN LOCUST STREET 79 my words, the day will roll i .^*"* ^^^^ ^^^ mark lotted forViceSsM 'n r^he Ph!LT^"V "^ "'^ b^^" lastyear. Nobody paid am nttenHnnJlP^'* convention vention haa heard hTm sniak a? Ml ^"^ ^^^*- ^^ *''« ««»- have been nominatedTnsteid «f \v' """"l^S^^??' ^'^ ^«»Id could have heard him hrwn l^h ^ '^"^P?*- If the nation of that miserable Cchanrn T wr'^^.' 'T'^^y ''''''^'^ ington. And while the linf^ .V t^^?^? *° ^*^ ^^ '^loom- ling, the peopb kept call nlf^V-P^^^/°"" ^«^« «. » Ge™..„y,-. ^i ^' Yon were all what ?" asked Stephen, intere3t»d " Stnyere, you might call it in Enriirf, In fh! ir , land those who seek (op hiirher rnTiSV ?u- '^*'- Uberty, and to be rid ofoppfen-a^^'ealiy ll'°J IS why we fought in '4« o«/i i^„*. "*^ »" cauea. ihat came Lre, to tfeRepntnc j^'' A"^ 't""".,;' ''''y we the pat lawyer- bStttestr^vfrl ye Zll^^^T' ^, ?h%°oZ?Cd':„^_t °2^« f ? -n£thTt\rk «t T ? ^^ ^ ^^^^ ^° war ? " head^^TS/ ^k:e-LtpX^S^^!»^'"« >"'' eig;^?^«' Y- -0">d flghtfSter?^-Y„n. a for- M:btf ^^Thrdi^its^i/^VoT °'rr ripe. This great clntrytelon3^".n'f.f ^^ *""* '* meonenirrht to South if W*i . ™"^* come with n^thLT :^„r?^S^^t^^-: --" I > 1 m. i«^; 1 » M THE CRISI8 i meree^ and see. This is not our blessed Lichtenhainer, that we drink at Jena. One may have a pint of Lichtenhainer for less than a groschen at Jena. Aber" he added as he rose, with a laugh that showed his strong teeth, '•'• we Ameri- cans are rich." As Stephen's admiration for his employer grew, his fear of him waxed greater likewise. The Judge's methods of teaching law were certainly not Harvard's methods. For a fortnight he paid as little attention to the young man as he did to the messengers who came with notes and cooled their heels in the outer office until it became the Judge's pleasure to answer them. This was a trifle discouraging to Stephen. But he stuck to his Chitty and his Greenleaf and -his Kent. It was Richter who advised him to buy Whittlesey's " Missouri Form Book," and warned him of Mr. Whipple's hatred for the new code. Well that he did I There came a fearful hour of judgment. With the swiftness of a hawk Mr. Whipple descended out of a clear sky, and instantly the law terms began to rattle in Stephen's head like dried peas in a can. It was the Old Style of Pleading this time, without a knowledge of which the Judge declared with vehemence that a lawyer was not fit to put pen to legal cap. " Now, sir, the papers ? " he cried. "First," said Stephen, "was the Declaration. The answer to that was the Plea. The answer to that was the Replication. The answer to that was the Rebutter. And the answer to that was the Surrebutter. But th^y rarely got that far," he added unwisely. " A good principle in Law, sir," said the Judge, " is not to volunteer information." Stephen was somewhat cast down when he reached home that Saturday evening. He had come out of his examination with feathers drooping. He had been given no more briefs to copy, nor had Mr. Whipple vouchsafed even to send him on an errand. He had not learned how common a thing it is with young lawyers to feel that they are of no use in the world. Besides, the rain continued. This was the fifth day. THE LITTLE HOUSE 87 His mother, knitting before the fire in her own room, greeted him with her usual quiet smile of welcome. He tried to give her a humorous account of his catechism of the morning, but failed. "I am quite sure that he doesn't like me," said Stephen. His mother continued to smile. " If he did, he would not show it," she answered. "I can feel it," said Stephen, dejectedly. " Sf ^^^^^ ^^ ^®^® ^^^^ afternoon," said his mother. "What?" cried Stephen. "Again this week? They say that he never calls in the daytime, and rarely in the evening. What did he say ? " " He said that some of this Boston nonsense must be gotten out of you," answered Mrs. Brice, laughing. " He said that you were too stiff. That you needed to rub against the plain men who were building up the West. Who were making a vast world-power of the original little confederation of thirteen states. And Stephen," she added more earnestly, "I am not sure but what he 18 right." Then Stephen laughed. And for a long time he sat staring into the fire. "What else did he say ? " he asked, after a while. "He told me about a little house which we might rent very cheaply. Too cheaply, it seeifls. The house is on this street, next door to Mr. Brinsmade, to whom it belongs. And Mr. Whipple brought the key, that we might inspect it to-morrow." " But a servant," objected Stephen, " I suppose that we must have a servant." His mother's voice fell. " That poor girl whom you freed is here to see me every day. Old Nancy does washing. But Hester has no work, and she is a burden to Judge Whipple. Oh, no," she con- tinued, in response to Stephen's glance, " the Judge did not mention that, but I think he had it in mind that Hes- ter might come. And I am sure that she would." Siuiday dawned brightly. After church Mrs. Brice and Stephen walked down Olive Street, and stood looking , 4 li 'H iH II: 6S THE CRISIS ^H at a tiny houae wedged in between two large ones with scrolled fronts. Sad memories of Beacon Street filled them both as they gazed, but thev said nothing of this to each other. As Stephen put his hand on the latch of the little iron gate, a gentleman came out of the larger house next door. He was past the middle age, somewhat scru- ^''iT^^u^^^ ^"^ *^® <^^^ fashion, in swallowtaU coat and black stock. Benevolence was in the generous mouth, m the lar^e nose that looked like Washington's, and benev- olence fairly sparkled in the blue eyes. He smiled at them as though he had known them always, and the world seemed brighter that very instant. They smiled in return, whereupon the gentleman Ufted his hat. And the kindli- ness and the courtliness of that bow made them very happv. " Did you wish to look at the house, madam ? " he asked. "Yes, sir," said Mrs. Brice. "Allow me to open it for you," he said, graciously tak- ing the key from her. " I fear that you will find it incon- venient and incommodious, ma'am. I should be fortunate, inieed, to get a good tenant." He fitted the\ey in the door, while Stephen and his mother smiled at each other at the thought of the rent. Ihe gentleman opened the door, and stood aside to let them enter, very much as if he were showing them a palace for which he was the humble agent. They went into the little parlor, Mxlch was nicely fur- nished in mahogany and horsehair. And it had back of It a bit of a dining room, with a little porch overlooking the back yard. Mrs. Brice thought of the dark and stately high-ceiled dining-room she had known throughout her married days : of the board from which a royal governor of Massachusetts Colony had eaten, and some governors of the Commonwealth since. Thank God, she had not to sell that, nor the Brice silver which had stood on the high sideboard with the wolves and the shield upon it. The widow s eyes filled with tears. She had not hoped again to have a home for these things, nor the father's armchair, nor the few famUy treasures that were to come over the mountains. THE LITTLE HOUSE gg •n^-^^Zl hT "'" '"'*'• ^'^ » y»" department, approached tlem, her eyes were fiTfiH„l*;i, ^? *^® to her for a little while ? lCthou7h^"Hte St"'"' you once more, she would die Wv » T>1 ^^ ^^^ choked by a sob. '^appy- The voice was tu^e'kto1he"Sit^°tt^,fUi'iL'''"'?.i" "'' <""-•»<• his'ZnS.'^ """" "'' "'»'»"'•" •■« ««*<»' "iti' Wa hat in J her!^n°waSd°wrif h*° "^T •"■»■ But she street, hH™ ^ 4; riS'r„nSl7),*"' "P''"^ ^°™ «« And. tt,en thef ^^f/'h^r^nfj"''"' ""^ " "«■>'• Pie»the%t^°: "^^-^r^ ^o- ^ ■*«'^ » r: 1.. . .'as; ■. ; i I CHAPTER XI THE INVITATION Mb. Euphalet Hoppeb in his Sunday-best broadcloth was a marvel of propriety. It seemed to Stephen that his face wore a graver expression on Sundav when he met him standing on Miss Crane's doorstep, picking the lint from his coat. Stephen's intention was not to speak. But he remembered wnat the Judge had said to his mother, and nodded. Why, indeed,' should he put on airjs with this man 'who had come to St. Louis unKnown and unrecom- mended and poor, who by sheer industry had made himself of importance in the large business of Carvel & Company? As for Stephen Brice, he was not yet earn- ing his salt, but existing by the charity of Judge Silas Whipple. " Howdy, Mr. Brice;" said Mr. Hopper, his glance caught by the indefinable in Stephen's costume. This v, ould have puzzled Mr. Hopper's tailor more. "Very well, Uianks." "A fine day after the rain." Stephen noddqd, and Mr. Hopper entered the house after him. "Be you asked to Virginia Carvel's party?" he asked abruptly. " I do not know Miss Carvel," said Stephen, wondering how well the other did. And if the ruth be told, he was a little annoyed at Mr. Hopper's free use of her name. "That shouldn't make no difference," said Eliphalet, with just a shade of bitterness in his tone. " They keep open house, like all Southerners, — " Mr. Hopper hesi- tated,— -"for such as come well recommended. I *mo8t callate you're n forgot,' (( 90 any THE INVITATION n X But " ™ d Mr ^'™' ''"«'^? y?" "0 »»" than .. sf! T ^' °° ."'? '" ""'• neither," he said. . SW, „Tii""''''\^«?«"y """e'e-J Stephen. wUh^tpw""'^ '«"**'• ""*■'■ '""•" -P'-O Eliphalet. thei\*Trt^;;iLT.?or'r:^Se"f„ri!;r;je^^ E'c^tciS'"^ "i' ""* °° Mr.™,?n/"adl- S^Z. ^^^1; coming-out party was the chief topic. baukrup him •• And ahe looked harf at U HopU vou/h^^d** '" ■""' P"^*"* '" "'°»»^" th«t geSman ."?''' * 8°°** "'n- ""d x)d Ihe kSs A nH ? f^w^kTAlm'""" '"^'" '">- WH^ht't'tom^' .^2;»saiFc:^&{;fSs-^rrhaTf- in l^nri » °^Sr FY""^^ ™ ^°i^' business in New Entt- lan^ said Eliphalet, "he'd been bankrupt long aJo." ^ in- « Wi/T^ ^ *1^°°^ ^°^^*^'" M^- Ahner Seed broke m. "hell get a right smart mint o' money whe?he mar! f •;ji ' i\ i' i M THE CRISIS f dent. How now, Mr. Hopper ? " *^ nof re ^*^** ^"^^^^^ mysterious and knowing. He diw MiM^cine?""^ ^°'^" **"'* P'^'*"'^ * P*"P«''" "»«* «ud Mr.'SVpef."^ '^** ^'"^^ ''^ ^^"'^ -*"^ C«l^«^" M;i'fb?okeTffV?*' ^'" "'*"^"- " "^^^ ^- A^"- .hi' ^S?K ""l^®"*^' " '^ ain't broke off. But I cftUate muonns^^' ""^'^ *^' '^™' ^°"~- S**«'» »«^ *«« Heavy at heart, Stephen climbed the stairs, thanking heaven that he had not been drawn into the ^ntr^W A partial coraprehenjion of Mr. Hoppei- was dawning upon him He suspected that gentleman of an airMessive §Z11* 'i^J- *^ V'PT °^ "«>»» that^power upon those beneath him. l/av, when he thought o^r his c^- It will be seen whether Stephen was right or wrong. n..i?S rVii^^S" **"** afternoon, as far out as a place called Lindell's Grove, which afterward became historic a Sii t^® retunied to tl.o house, his mother handed him a little white envelope. "It came while you were out," she said. f Kiv *T®^ ' r **''.^'.' *"? ***'®*^ at b" °am« ^tten across tne front ma feminine hand. In those days younir ladies did not write in the bold and masculine^ manner now p^derel. "*^''' ^^ '^'^^ ** ^^^ "''*®' "^anliJ^e* «»d " Who brought it, mother ? " with^^smnr* ^""^ ""^^ '*' *°^ ^ ^" **^®*^ ^"^ °*°**'®'' noS^w«''i^^!1'^Pw*'?"• ^?** * ^"°°y' ^«"°al little sL^hr "^T"^*^ *^^^ ^^°°^^ It was not funny to Stephen — then. He read it, and he read it again, and THK INVITATIOW „ 6^y h. wJk«l „v„ t. th. wi„dow..tni holding it in hi. in the knowl«Ige of mankind? ^" """■• '"I*"'"" tg.^SgtheL^"iSt„ZUf'°A''«, «"P'"" -"d . Bte;'^/tt'"„^rrBtrS ri ^■■ifl »'P^ 1 1 ism' I CHAPTER XII "MISS jinny" The years have sped indeed since that gray December day when Miss Virginia Carvel became eighteen. Old St. Louis has changed from a pleasant Southern town to a bustling city, and a high building stands on the site of that wide and hospitable home of Colonel Carvel. And the Colonel's 'thoughts that morning, as Ned shaved him, flew back through the years to a gently rolling Kentucky conitryside, and a pillared white house among the oaks. He was ridiag again with Beatrice Colfax in the spring- tirne. Again he stretched out his arm as if to seize her bridle-hand, and he felt the thoroughbred rear. Then the vision faded, and the memory of his dead wife became an angel's face, far — so far away. He had brought her to St. Louis, and with his inheri- tance had founded his business, and built the great double house on the corner. The child came, and was named after the noble state which had given so many of her sons to the service of the Republic. Five simple, happy years — then war. A black war of conquest which, like many such, was to add to the nation's fame and greatness. Glory beckoned, honor called — or Comyn Carvel felt them. With nothing of the profession of arms save that born in the Carvels, he kissed Beatrice farewell and steamed down the Mississippi, a captain in a Missouri regiment. The young wife was ailing. An- guish killed her. Had Comyn Carvel been selfish ? Ned, as he shaved his master's face, read his thoughts by the strange sympathy of love. He had heard the last pitiful words of his mistress. Had listened, choking, to Dr. Posthlewaite as he read the sublime service of the "MISS JINNY" 95 his moX, « i like1haT''^Y '' ^^^^"^^ ^^' ^«°d over always afrkid V^Ltg mX" ' ftet "^rK*^^ beauty to resemble her. f Cw rhat i am Hkf her Wh.n you took me on to Calvert House toTee Uncle d^^I? that time, I remember the picture by, by -1 '' ^^""^^ "Sir Joshua Reynolds." ^ "Yes, Sir Joshua." " Sh?irr. ^'^y/^r"'" «ays the Cobnel. " No " ^^?i M^®^"^* Pf T° *« remember." have''H;ed"fth W ""'^ '^"^'^'^^' "-P^--% ^^ you 1 1 is '^. 'Plr'^ !^fW>J 96 THE CRISIS **Not that I wish to be that kind," said Virginia, medi- tatively, — "to take London by storm, and keep a man dangling for years." "But he got her in the end," said the Colonel. " Where did you hear all this ? " he asked. " Uncle Daniel told me. He has Richard Carvel's diary. " "And a very honorable record it is," exclaimed the Colonel. " Jinny, we shall read it together when we go a-visiting to Calvert House. I remember the old gentle- man as well as if I had seen him yesterday." Virginia appeared thoughtful. "Pa," she began, "Pa, did you ever see the pearls Dorothy Carvel wore on her wedding day ? What makes you jump like that ? Did you ever see them ? " " Well, I reckon I did," replied the Colonel, gazing at her steadfastly. "Pa, Uncle Daniel told me that I was to have that necklace when I was old enough." " Law ! " said the Colonel, fidgeting, " your Uncle Daniel was just fooling you." " He's a bachelor," said Virginia; " what use has he got for it?" " Why," says the Colonel, " he's a young man yet, your uncle, only fifty-three. I've known older fools than he to go and do it. Eh, Ned?" " Yes, marsa. Yes, suh. I've seed 'em at seventy, an' shufflin' about peart as Marse Clarence's gamecocks. Why, dar was old Marse Ludlow — " " Now, Mister Johnson," Virginia put in severely, " no more about old Ludlow." Ned grinned from ear to ear, and in the ecstasy of his delight dropped the Colonel's clothes-brush. "Lan' sakes 1 " he cried, " ef she ain't recommembered." Recov- ering his gravity and the brush simultaneously, he made Virginia a low bow. " Mornin', Miss Jinny. I sholy is gwinter s'lute you dis day. May de good Lawd make you happy. Miss Jinny, an' give you a good husban' — " "Thank you. Mister Johnson, thank you," said Vir- ginia, blushing. 'Una A BACHELOK,' SAID VjHGIMA • ' I A ; * WHAT LSE HAS HE GOT FOR IT ? ' " I t I ''m^i.'^mn J -. m^^i^^j^m^^^im&wj§s[w-'^s^'m.i,-.yMmiim- ■^--- 2 "MISS JINNY" „ de qualit^.Mam " ^- °°"'* y°" *^ '» Ned "bout he desired to enter thrWtchen w^M hr'V*™""' '"«' to <»me mth h„„bleld sSbmi^^^^i'Sl^ '^".""K?* years). There he would .it w; t-^ five-and-twenty the whUe an undewMrenr V^f"!' '"'' •'"'yi-g on whfle Miss VireinirS Ji^f ?">*«»*«. ""J rumblings, chopped .ndSd and tkJ"^H '"*''•'"!."'' "^ woe to the unfortunate RosSlf 'l! e<>^f^ But bounds of respect 1 Woe tTw^ L i r'"**^??'' *« they came a^ inch ovm the Th i. tSH"" °' ^'■^' « beyond! Even AintpT.* ! threshold from the haU ^l wont to IffirS, whe^lSLtP'?'? ^1^"^^' '^""^^ »>"« an absolute contemjlZSsToid's""^ ^aymisohb^S^r^ """ ""'• *'»""»y^" Vi:^nia would honeyf ReTkonl-d &^ *'''t J'^ "^^^^^ "' him, me i* CbZkt^' TJ?,? ?^ •"> ""'^''ed hole of " 8 once, honey, an^^e' wh« it/ o'm*'*!' *° "'""* "P" .VeverU.ele.s Ben had, on one Ue^rlto-be-forgotten I it 1- IM "- V risa 98 THE CRISIS occasion, ordered Mammy Easter out, and she had gone. And now, as she was working the beat biscuits to be baked that evening, Uncle Ben's eye rested on her with suspicion. What mere man may write with any confidence of the delicacies which were prepared in Uncle's kitchen that morning? No need in those days of cooking schools. What Southern lady, to the manner born, is not a cook from the cradle? Even Ben noted with approval Miss Virginia's scorn fcr pecks and pints, and grunted with satisfaction over the accurate pinches of spices and flavors which she used. And he did Miss Eugenie the honor to eat one of her praleens. That night came Captain Lige Brent, the figure of an eager and determined man swinging up the street, and pulling out his watch under every lamp-post. And in his haste, in the darkness of a mid-block, he ran into another solid body clad in high boots and an old army overcoat, beside a wood wagon. " Howdy, Captain," said he of the high boots. "Well, I just thought as much," was the energetic reply ; « minute I seen the rig I knew Captain Grant was behind it." He held out a big hand, which Captain Grant clasped, just looking at his own with a smile. The stranger was Captain Elijah Brent of the Louisiana. "Now," said Brent, "I'll just bet a full carffo that you're off to the Planters' House, and smoke an El Sol with the boys." Mr. Grant nodded. « You're keen. Captain," said he. "I've got something here that'll outlast an El Sol a whole rfay," continued Captain Brent, tugging at his pocket and pulling out a six-inch cigar as black as the night. " Just you try that." The Captain instantly struck a match on his boot and was puffing in a silent enjoyment which delighted his friend. " Reckon he don't bring out cigars when you make him VKigm^'f -isTJa ■*1P "MISS JINNY" ^ Captain Grant did not reply to that nnr rMA n * • to puj the Stake, ba^ck into Us^^TTn. "" '""'«* '"«'" .. &lf " ^°" °* '"' ^'^ "> " he asked. that^I ^uId/"S""'1i tuiL'^'P.''^,"^^^ "'» *ink his arm "r^.. ij * '""ked a bundle t ghter under jSn" Carveu" \te ^ant^^'-T T^ ««!« -eethea,? ««„£/, ^^e Captain Sighed. " She ain'f Hffi^ any more, and she eighteen to-day?" ^ * ^*"^® « Sav '? ii'^' -iiT"^ *^i« ^^"^ t« ^« forehead, oay, Lige, said he, " that reminrls mo a .x. awayj^sa. the Co.fnel ^r^Ci^^.''t\^\C mtle time^ ' ' ^« •»* my ,y, on him for some haf dri^enlZ^ltuddf strllr Sf?' ^."P**'" «™* himself to enter Lcaml^aSSon^^'r -5 °°'"P'^'* tion t» the salutations oTjlckSTtL butirl"" ^'t?"" Z<-m&.?a'^feZli"r • 'TS P^ ™«« 0° the '^~§iF-$t :s*w 100 THE CRISIS you ride in my boat again. Bill Jenks said: * Are yon plum erazy. Brent? Look at them cressets.* v ^Five dollars I ' says I ; * I wouldn't go in for five hundred. To-morrow's Jinny Carvel's birthday, and I've just got to be there.' I reckon the time's come when I've got to say Miss Jinnv," he added ruefully. The Colonel rose, laughing, and hit the Captain on the back. " Drat you, Lige, whv don't you kiss the girl ? Can't you see she's waiting? The honest Captain stole one glance at Virginia, and turned red copper color. '* Shucks, Colonel, I can't be kissing her always. What'U her husband say ? " For an instant Mr. Carvel's brow clouded. " We'll not talk of husbands yet awhile, Lige." Virginia went up to Captain Lige, deftly twisted into shape his black tie, and kissed him on the cheek. How his face burned when she touched him. " There ! " said she, " and don't you ever dare to treat me as a young ladv. Why, Pa, he's blushing like a girl. I know. He's asnamed to kiss me now. He's going to be married at last to that Creole girl in New Orleans.' The Colonel slapped his knee, winked slyly at Lige, while Virginia began to sing : — ** I built me a house on the mountain so high, To gaze at my true love as she do go by." "There's only one I'd ever marry. Jinny,'' protested the Captain, soDerly, "and I'm a heap too old for her. But I've seen a youngster that might mate with her, Colonel," he added mischievously. " If he just wasn't a Yankee. Jinny, what's the story I hear about Judge Whipple's joung man buying Hester?" Mr. Carvel looked uneasy. It was Virginia's turn to blush, and she grew red as a peony. " He's a tall, hateful. Black Republican Yankee I " she said. "MISS JINNY" IQj thete ?'^"^ ' " ^^"^^*^ *^« ^*P**i°- " Any more epi- "He's a nasty Abolitionist I " ^" There you do him wrong, honey," the Colonel put " I hear he took Hester to Miss Crann's " th^ r<„ * • "T^r^^ f"^' *^^ '««- ^"^ hnVaVt^^Xr" "That boy has sand enough, Jinny; I'd liLto know f^rl^^S^ ^*r® *^** priceless opportunity to-nieht," re- torted Miss Virginia, as she flung herself out of tie room Pa has made me invite him te my party " aftir her' ^7 ' ^^^^ °°J." cried the Captain, running alter her. " 1 ve got something for you. " ^ bhe stopped on the stairs, hesitatinjr. Wherminnn ih^ Captain hastily ripped open the bundlf under h?s am and produced a very handsome India shawl. With aTrv of delight Virginia threw it over her shoulders and tZ to the long glass between the high windows. **" " H«r°f«T^' t"' V^^r ^^^^ t^« Colonel, fondly. "Who spoils you. Jinny?" ^^•'^ " Captain Lige," said she, turning to him. " If von had only kept the presents you have brought me f Jom " He is a rich man," said the Colonel, promptly « Did ^"whlT &r^'^^ \P^^«^!)*' ^'^^ ^ " he^asked^^' "Whv^'nln V- ''•'''''*'''* ^"^""S answered the Captain. w», 1 ^-.wi.^"^ Virginia, "you brought me a piece of her ^' So Tm" t^d P ''; ' ^S^ ^"^^ ashoreS it."" *!, * tI ^' ,^^*^ C' P*ai» Brent. « I had for^ottpn wl?f\ u T"* ^^'.'^ *^" ^'^"^^ dr«««' with the f Sows w^ lost " ""' ^'*'^ ^"^ ^"*^^ "^^^ ^^««^ Paris for ylu; ViLl^l ^ M? ^ ^ ^ k'^ *&" P''«°« «* ^h««l ^tter," says ' And who should be the last to leave, but the captain ? Li- 102 THE CRISIS I saw the thing in the water, and I just thought w^ ouriit to have a relic." " Liffe," said the Colonel, putting up his feet, *♦ do you remember the French toys you used to bring up here from New Orleans ? " "Colonel," replied Brent, "do you recall the rough and uncouth young citizen who came over here from Cin- cinnati, as clerk on the Vicktburgt'' " I remember, sir, that he was so promising that they made him provisional captain the next trip, and he was not yet twenty-four years of age." " And do vou remember buying the Vickthurg at the sheriff's sale for twenty thousand dollars, and handing her over to youne Brent, and saying, 'There, my son, she's your boat, and you can pay for her when you like ' ? " " Shuqks, Brent ! " said Mr. Carvel, stemlv, " your memory's too good. But I proved myself a good business man. Jinny; he paid for her in a year." " You don't mean that you made him pay you for the boat?" cried Jinny. "Why, Pa, I didn't think you were that mean I " The two men laughed heartily. " I was a heap meaner," said her father. " I made him pay interest." Virginia drew in her breath, and looked at the Colonel in amazement. "He's the meanest man I )fcnow," said Captain Lige. " H6 made me pay interest, and a rmnt julep."' " Upon my word. Pa," said Miss Virginia, soberly, " I shouldn't have believed it of you." Just then Jackson, in his white jacket, came to announce that supper was ready, and they met Ned at the dining- room door, fairly staggering under a load of roses. " Mai-se Clarence done send 'em in, des picked out'n de hothouse dis afternoon, Miss Jinny. Jackson, fetch a bowl I " " No," said Virginia. She took the flowers from Ned, one by one, and to the wonderment of Captain Lige and her father strewed them hither and thither upon the table "MISS JINNY" 103 rn!nL?\''te u^^^ ^'^ ^'^ ^y *^« ^ flowers. The Co onel stroked his goatee and nudged Captain Liire " Look-a-there, now," said he. " Any^other Toman would have spent two mortal hours stickin' 'em in chTa " Virginia, having critically surveyed her work amid exclamations from Ned and "Jackson, had gone arounTto her place. And there upon her plate lay a^jearl necklace if?n*lS. '"??"* '^' "^*?P«^ ^«^ P»^™« togetC starinrat of L^It f^'"*- J^""^ r'A "«^ *^« li"l« chiluish^^ of deh^ht, long sweet to the Colonel's ears, escaped her.^ for fe^r tW ^'^' l^ ^'T" " ^°^ ^^^^ she ctopp^d, ingly ""'^ °°* **^- ^""^ ^« °°^^«d encoSrag. ;| Dorothy Carvel's necklace I No, it can't be." res, honey,' said the Colonel. " Your Uncle Daniel sent It, as he promised. And when you go upstairs if fn^d^hTn^^el^^f ;i^^ ^' ^« '"^^^ «^-^ ^«^<^e ^^'^ them^** A\i''^^V'''?P'[ *^®y had, -just the three of tHem I And as the fresh roses filled the room with fra- grance, Virgnia filled it with youth and spS,^d Mr Carvel and the Captain with honest, manly meSment And Jackson pliecf Captain Brent (who w^ a primi favorite in that house) with broiled chicken and hofS? biscuits and with waffles, until at length he lay back in his chair and heaved a sigh of content, lighting JcigT And J' WeU," said Captain Brent, "I reckon there'll be irav fJ.T"r Y? *^;°?^*- I ^°"^dn't miss the sight^^ em, Colonel, for all the cargoes on the Mississippi Ain't there anything I can do ? " ^"Jwissippi. Ain t "No, thank you, Lige," Mr. Carvel ans'-,red. "Do I H Ms ^1 li 1 IM THB CfBISIS you remember, one morning some five veam a,n,„ ».r ^: j :. » '^"^ ^^^ ** ^^e fiil!^ "« V "~V""" "V?^ "'''''^ ^^^ *^« Uolonel, thouffht- Sion He hlT °^^""" ^."^^* ^'^t^^ » solicftorfrke poison. He has his notions. And maybe you've noticed "MISS JINNY" j^ The Captain nodded. man*8 clerk. says he. «ay8 Mr Hopper ^ind^''" '"f^' "'•^' *^ *^«"ate to" roo8teh'». Git I ' •• ^^ ' " """K y""" »««'' like a " Wright "hL"" If""" >^"' C»P'«'» «"»»■ Planters' House, vou kiow wt f ^ "iSr° ^*^®« »* the butgo VoundlSertharv:;ynl^hfan^^^^^^^^ ^^^^' ^« bits tc puc im at the oilman's trbt*^V>,°'«^gJ'.*r There wa8 a ,ilen<». Then the door-tu L» -C* ■'■'^ . c^v^j^'»mpm^y^mw^. ■- "1 '- iPtiTT. .% W.m^es^'J \ CHAPTER XIII THE PARTY m^ lo gentle Miss Anne BrJnsmade, to Puss Russell of the mischievous eyes, auv suffer greatly when she laughed at him ^ C^leT^ests^ ml'a '^ rl^r^*' therefore, that Miss tr ctf^^?^^ them too long, th^e^ ^::;:'L^;;ZX a.d^^«^^ their fathers and grandfathers. And if an oS gentle- tZV.^^r^*Sf'^P' *^" *^« ^ight be seen going^down the hall together, arm in arm. So came his lelofed I emy, Judge Whipple, who did not make an excursion to stooranST"^ "^*^.^^T^ ^*^ *be Colonel ; but t^^^^^ biUtv fS. tli'''''''? ^'- ^'««ident Bachanan'L respon^i^ nS W f f- '^''5''* P^°'°' ""*^1 *be band, which Mr. Hop- ^A«w/**?Ti,^ under the stairs, drowned their voicer As we enter the room, there stands Virginia imder th« rambowed prisms of the great chandelier, fecefvi^g BuJ here was suddenly a woman of twenty-eight, whete on?v th« evening we knew a slip of a girl. It ta^ a trick she had to become ma estic in a ball-gown. She held her head high, as a woman should, and It her slender throat glowed the pearls of Dorothy Manners. * souTs of Tinv If^^i ^^^^'^ *° ^*"^« * li"l« *^« i^to the souls of many of her playmates. Little Eugenie nearlv sheTrtotZr^^- y.T^ Cluyme was so imfre^'ed Th "^ She torgot for a whole hour to be spiteful. But Puss " Nerv' IS I " exclaimed Jinny ; "why ? " B„f «h«^T'' i^'"'^^ significantly towards the doorway. But she said nothing to her hostess, for fear of marring i^ -;! 11 f;|^...:>'\^'*s^':^J^ y>i-i='i?--£iJi' 106 THE CRISIS i^' Otherwise happy occasion. She retired with Jack Brins- made to a comer, where she recited : — v ' "Oh young Loohinvar is come out of the East; Of millions of Yankees I love him the least" " What a joke if he should come I " cried Jack. Miss Russell gasped. Just as Mr. Clarence Colfax, resplendent in new even- ing clothes just arrived from New York, was pressing his claim for the first dance with his cousin in opposition to numerous other claims, the chatter of the guests died away. Virginia turned her head, and for an instant the pearls trembled on her neck. There was a young man cordially and unconcernedly shaking hands with her father and Captain Lige. Her memory of that moment is, strangely, not of his face (she did not deign to look at that), but of the muscle of his shoulder half revealed as he stretched forth his arm. Young Mr. Colfax bent over to her ear. "Virginia,'* he whispered earnestly, almost fiercely, "Virginia, who invited him here?" " I did," said Virginia, calmly, " of course. Who in- vites any one hei^^? " But I " cried Clarence, " do you know who he is ? " " Yes," she answered, " I know. And is that any reason why he should not come here as a guest ? Would you bar any gentleman from your house on account of his convictions ? " Ah, Virginia, who had thought to hear that argument from your lips ? What would frank Captain Lige say of the consistency of women, if he heard you now ? And how give an account of yourself to Anne Brinsmade? What contrariness has set you so intense against your own argument? Before one can answer this, before Mr. Clarence can recover from his astonishment and remind her of her vehement words on the subject at Bellegarde, Mr. Stephen is making thither with the air of one who conquers. Again the natural contrariness of women. What bare- THE PAftTY am faced impudence I Has he no shame that he should hold his head so high ? She feels her color mounting, even as her reseuiment rises at his self-possession, and yet she would have despised him had he shown self-consciousness in gait or manner in the sight of her assembled guests. 'Tfe.*^ u" **.*H ^°^°°®^ ^i°^««^^' he i« plainly seen, and Miss Puss in her corner does not have to stand on tiptoe. Mr. Carvel does the honors of the Intro- duction. But a daughter of the Carvehj was not to fail before such a paltry situation as this. ShaU it be confessed that curi- osity stepped into the breach ? As she gave him her hand she was wondering how he would act. As a matter of fact he acted detestably. He said noth- ing whatever, but stood regarding her with a clear eye and a face by far too severe. The thought that he was meditating on the incident of the auction sale crossed through her mind, and made her blood simmer. How dared he behave so I The occasion called for a Httle sm?:' talk. An evil spirit took possession of Virginia. She turned. "Mr. Brice, do you know my cousin, Mr. Colfax?" she said. Mr. Brice bowed. "I know Mr. Colfax by sight," he replied. j s «» «« Then Mr. Colfax made a stiff bow. To this new phase his sense of humor did not rise. Mr. Brice was a Ywikee and no gentleman, inasmuch as he had overbid a lady for -ciesver. "Have you come here to live, Mr. Brice?" he asked. smil d ^^^ ^^ nephew sharply. But Stephen "Yes," he said, "if I can presently make enough to keep me ahye." Then turning to Virginia, he said, "Will you dance. Miss Carvel ? " The effrontery of this demand quite drew the breath from the impatient young gentlemen who had been wait- ing their turn. Several of them spoke up in remonstrance. And for the moment (let one confess it who kjiows> i ■; 110 THE CRISIS i Virginia was almost tempted to lay her arm in his. Then she made a bow that would have been quite as effective the length of the room. "Thank you, Mr. Brice," she said, "but I am engaffed to Mr. Colfax." ^ * Abstractedly he watched her glide away in her cousin's arms. Stephen had a way of being preoccupied at such times. When he grew older he would walk the length of Olive Street, look into face after face of acquaintances, not a quiver of recognition in his eyes. But most prob- ably the next week he would win a brilliant case in the Supreme Court. And so now, indifferent to the amuse- ment of some about him, he stood staring after Virginia and Clarence. Where had he seen Colfax's face before he came West ? Ah, he knew. Many, many years before he had stood with his father in the meiiow light of the long gallery at Hollingdean, Kent, Vufore a portrait of the Stu- art'^' time. The face was that of one of Lord Northwell's ancestors, a sporting nobleman of the time of the second Charles. It was a head which compelled one to pause before it. Strangely enough, — it was the head likewise of Clarence Colfax. The image of it Stephen had carried undimmed in the f ve of his memory. White-haired Northwell's story, also. It was not a story that Mr. Brice had expected his small son to grasp. As a matter of fact Stephen had not grasped it then — but years afterward. It was not a pleasant story, — and yet there was much of credit in it to the young rake its subject, — of dash and courage and princely generosity beside the profligacy and incontinence. The face had impressed him, with its story. He had often dreamed of it, and of the lace collar over the dull- gold velvet that became it so well. And here it was at last, in a city west of the Mississippi River. Here were the same delicately chiselled features, with their pallor, and satiety engraved there at one and twenty. Here was the same lazy scorn in the eves, and the look which sleep- lessness gives to the lids : the hair, straight and fine and black; the wilful indulgence — not of one life, but of THE PARTY HI generations -- about the mouth ; the pointed chin. And yet it was a face to dare anything, and to do anything. One thing more ere we have done with that which no man may explain. Had he dreamed, too, of the girl ? Of Virginia ? Stephen might not tell, but thrice had the Colonel spoken to him before he answered. "You must meet some of these young ladies, sir." It was little wonder that Puss Russell thought him dull on that first occasion. Out of whom condescension is to flow is a matter of which Heaven takes no cognizance. To use her own words. Puss thought hini "stuck up," when he should have been grateful. We know that Stephen was not stuck up, and later Miss Russell learned that likewise. Very naturally she took preoccupation for indifference. It is a matter worth recording, however, that she did not tease him, because she did not dare. He did not ask her to dance, which was rude. So she passed him back to Mr. Carvel, who introduced him to Miss Renault and Miss Saint Cyr, and other young ladies of the best French families. And finally, drifting hither and thither with his eyes on Virginia, in an evil moment he was presented to Mrs. Colfax. Perhaps it has been guessed that Mrs. Colfax was a very great lady indeed, albeit the daughter of an overseer. She bore Addison Colfax's name, spent his fortune, and retained her good looks. On this particular occasion she was enjoying herself quite as much as any young girl in the room ; and, while resting from a waltz, was regaling a number of gentlemen with a humorous account of a scandal at the Virginia Springs. None but a great lady could have meted out the punish- ment administered to poor Stephen. None but a great lady could have conceived it. And he, who had never been snubbed before, fell headlong into her trap. How was the boy to know that there was no heart in the smile with which she greeted him ? It was all over in an in- stant. She continued to talk about Virginia Springs. "Oh, Mr. Brice, of course you have been there. Of course you know the Edmunds. No ? You haven't been mmMmfmr^^^mmmmtfWB^. 112 THE CRISIS there ? You don't know the Edmunds ? I thought everv- 6orfy had been there. Charles, you look as if you we?e just dying to waltz. Let's have a turn before the music stops. And so she whirled away, leaving Stephen forlorn, a little too angry to be amused just then. In that state he spied a gentleman coming towards him — a gentleman the sight of whom he soon came to associate with all that is good and kindly in this world, Mr. Brinsmade. And now he put his hand on Stephen's shoulder. Whether he had seen the incident just past, who cau tfcU ? "My son," said he, "I am delighted to see you here. Now that we are such near neighbors, we must be nearer friends, "iou must know my wife, and my son Jack, and my daughter Anne." Mrs. Brinsmade Was a pleasant little body, but plainly not a fit mate for her husband. Jack gave Stephen a warm grasp of the hand, and an amused look. As for Anne, she was more like her father; she was Stephen's friend from that hour. "I have seen you quite often, going in at your gate,. Mr. brice. And I have seen your mother, too. I like her, said Anne. « She has such a wonderful face." And the girl raised her truthful blue eyes to his. " My mother would be delighted to know you," he ven- tured, not knowing what else to say. It was an eflfort for him to reflect upon their new situation as poor tenants to a wealthy family. "Oh, do you think so?" cried Anne. "I shall call on her to-morrow, with mother. Do you know, Mr. Brice," she continued, " do you know that your mother is just the person I should go to if I were in trouble, whether I knew her or not?" "I have found her a good person in trouble," said Stephen, simply. He might have said the same of Anne. Anne was enchanted. She had thought him cold, but these words belied that. She had wrapped him in that diaphanous substance with which voung ladies (and some- times older ones) are wont to deck their heroes. She had THE PARTr 113 terier^fit* Ty.^Tl^ ^°^ ^* '^"'^»°' ^ »re many mys- leries. But thank Heaven that she found a riT««;J;^ Ru88ell, who wa8 better pleS^ed this time Tlhe pSd hZ u^^i^rr'^S°a.^-hit"^^ -''■'"--« His to^Stephen s amazement, even Judge Whipple hfd pr4ed kerchTe? Ztl^^^ ""^'^^'^ ^^*"" ^"^^y R"««eU's hand- Fh^^K r. ??* ^® '*'' *°^°^ another acquaiatance Mr Ehphalet Hopper in Sunday broadcloth, w^ seated on the landing, his head lowered to the level of f?lf!l ^ e:nTaf fi^J: ^V'^' ^^ ^^^^ ^-1 f^erthe^ « Enjoyin' yourself ? » asked Mr. Hopper, btephen countered. ^^ "Are you? "he asked. in '?^** r" ^'*^ J^""- Hopper, and added darkly: "I ain't m no hurry. Just now they callate I'm abo.i/^nJ^ enough to manage the businesi end of ai^ffat Hke^tWs ;:! ■ 1 '.l if I I r T^:.^:^' fjiirTiP'-^r-vv^.'^-*- 114 THE CRISIS dishearten and disgust him. Kindly as he had b«en treated bj others, far back in his soul was a thihg that rankled. Shall it be told crudely why he went that night ? Stephen Brice, who would not Ue to others, lied to himself. And when he came downstairs again and pre- sented Miss Emily with her handkerchief his next move was in his mind. And that was to say go^-night to the Colonel, and more frigidly to Miss Carvel herself. But music has upset many a man's calculations. The strains of the Jenny Lind waltz were beginning to float through the rooms. There was Miss Virginia in a comer of the bi^ parlor, for the moment alone with her consin. And thither Stephen sternly strode. Not a sign dia she give of being aware of his presence until he stood before her. Ev«i then she did not lift her eyes. But she said : — " So you have come at last to try again, Mr. Brice ? " And Mr. Brice said : — " If you will do me the honor. Miss Carvel." She did not reply at once. Clarence Colfax got to his feet. Then she looked up at the two men as they stood side by side, and perhaps swept them both in an instant's comparison. The New Englander's face must have reminded her more of her own father. Colonel Carvel. It possessed, from generations known, the power to control itself. She afterwards admitted that she accepted him to tease Clar- ence. Miss Russell, whose intuitions are usually correct, does not believe this. " I will dance with you," said Virginia. But, once in his arms, she seemed like a wild thing, resisting. Although her gown brushed his coat, the space between them was infinite, and her hand lay limp in his, unresponsive of his own pressure. Not so her feet ; they caught the step and moved with the rhjrthm of the music, and round the room they swung. More than one pair paused iu the dance to watch them. Then, as they glided past the door, Stephen was disagreeably conscious of some one gazing down from above, and he recalled Eliphalet ^ijef-^'^''^'MMd''^i^^ ■^t^^mm^mf^^i n- i 'So YOU HAVE COME AT LAST TO TRY AGAIN, Mr. BricE ? ' ■m^M'w?^^, ^JhCra.i3S(E. ^bC'i^ THE PARTY 115 Hopper and his position. The sneer from Eliphalet'g face seemed to penetrate like a chilly draught. All at once, Virginia felt her partner gathering up his strength, and by some compelling force, more of will than of muscle, draw her nearer. Unwillingly her hand ti( htened under his, and her blood beat faster and her color came and went as they two moved as one. Anger — helpless anger — took possession of her as she saw the smiles on the faces of her friends, and Puss Russell mock- ingly throwing a kiss as she passed her. And then, strange in the telling, a thrill as of power rose within her which she strove against in vain. A knowledge of him who guided her so swiftly, so unerringly, which she had felt with no other man. Faster and faster they stepped, each forgetful of self and place, until the waltz came suddenly to a stop. "By gum I" said Captain Lige to Judge Whipple, "you can whollop me on my own forecastle if they ain't the handsomegt couple I ever did see." i -ti i 1 '- '.(K - -.'z: .. V '. mL^zs^s^mmuBPism BOOK II CHAPTER I RAW MATERIAL Summer, intolerable summer, was upon the city at last. The families of its richest citizens had fled. Even at that early day some braved the long railroad journey to the Atlantic coast. Amongst these were our friends the Cluymes, who come not strongly into this history. Some went to the Virginia Springs. But many, like the Brins- mades and the Russells, the Tiptons and the Rollings, worths, retired to the local paradise of their country places on the Bellefontaine road, on the cool heights above the nver. Thither, as a respite from the hot office, Stephen was often invited by kind Mr. Brinsmade, who sometimes drove him out in his -wn buggy. Likewise he had vis- ited Miss Puss Ru8S( But Miss Virginia Carvel he had never seen since the night he had danced with her. This was because, after her return from the young ladies' school at Monticello, she had gone to Glencoe,— Glencoe magic spot, perched high on wooded highlands. And under these the Meramec, crystal pure, ran lightly on sand and pebble to her bridal with that turbid tyrant, the leather of Waters. To reach Glencoe you spent two dirty hours on that railroad which (it was fondly hoped) would one day stretch to the Pacific Ocean. You generally spied one of the h:^ Catherwood boys in the train, or their tall sister Maude. The Catherwoods likewise lived at Glencoe in the summer. And on some Saturday afternoons a grim I RAW MATERIAL Uy would drop in at the little hou«, „n OUve'st! •."'"'' '" Mr. Bnnsmade's bie one whiXJl. u ! ^'"'" "«** to with Mrs. Brioe. if^m^M LT m' VP- "d take tea porohoverthegardenhJZerear „r "11 "/ °" "" ""1« watch the bob-Lled hor^^'g^' 2?%i'r' "'P'' "<• was chiefly a-Idressed to the wid?^ ^' p f """^ra't'on Whose Wholesome respect for Ils^o.tlVL t^^^^ been for the fact ^hatMr"'^^^^^^^^^ IT .?«^ ^^ "«* house, despair would have se^zWfnT"* *^ *^'« '"^th^'s ently his goinffs-out and h;f • '"" '*°«^ «^"«e. Appar- by kr. Richt?r Trufv heTi"^"'" ^f^ "oted^^ly Harvard methods And if th ^^^' ""^^^^^^ ^"e not Bostonian, Mr? Whippb thour Tlf ^"^1^° ^^^ y«"»g ^^ It was to Richter Khen owed a fZ '?" '"^^ ^«^ ^* these days. He would often tlC^ t ^^^^ ?^ gratitude in down-town beer garden with tht •'^^^ ">««! in the there came a Sunday af^innn%r'^^ ^'"'■°'*"- Then red letter^ when RiXw f **" ^^ ^® marked with a across the Rhine. The Rhin? w!?' lu^',''^*^^ *°«^ ^'°^ south of that street ™ a cointr^^f if'^"* ?.*^"*' ^^^ can society took no co^izance '^ ^ ""^'^ ^"^ ^'»«"- Lo^s^argr^e^atr u^ordtoi"^^^^^^^ ^^^ «*' set down in 111 its vigorous cnidTv -^ .^^^herland and mud of the MississippfvalleV^^^^^^^ !" *^l ™°^ ^^^^^ place of Bourbon, and black *brSr T' ^''" *««^ ^^^ rolls and fried cWcken R.rf ''''^ '*^«^«« «f ^o* houses squatting in the middle of' T^ ^"*^°* "^^'^^^t- churches%quarfrndu\"om^^^^^^^^^ Hails, where German childrL w^^Tglt' WerSTn i.-:»^ » .W- - — 118 THE CRISIS tongue. Here, in a shady grove of mulberry and locust, two hundred families were spread out at their ease. For a while Richter sat in silence, puflBng at a meer- schaum with a huge brown bowl. A trick of the mind opened for Stephen one of the histories in his father's library in Beacon Street, across the pages of which had flitted the ancestors of this blue-eyed and great-chested Saxon. He saw them in cathedral forests, with the red hair long upon their bodies. He saw terrifying battles with the Roman Empire surging back and forth through the low countries. He saw a lad of twenty at the head of rugged legions clad in wild skins, sweeping Rome out of Gaul. Back in the dim ages Richter's fathers must have defended grim Eresburg. And it seemed to him that in the end the new Republic must profit by this rugged stock, which had good women for wives and mothers, and for fathers men in whose blood dwelt a fierce patriotism and contempt for cowardice. This fancy of ancestry pleased Stephen. He thought of the forefathers of those whom he knew, who dwelt north of Market Street. Many, though this generation of the French might know it not, had bled at Calais and at Agincourt, had followed the court of France in clumsy coaches to Blois and Amboise, or lived in hovels under the castle walls. Others had charged after the Black Prince at Poictiers, and fought as serf or noble in the war of the Roses; had been hatters or tailors in Cromwell's armies, or else had sacrificed lands and fortunes for Charles Stuart. These English had toiled, slow but resistless, over the misty Blue Ridge after Boone and Harrod to this old St. Louis of the French, their enemies, whose fur traders and missionaries had long followed the veins of the vast western wilderness. And now, on to the struc- ture builded by these two, comes Germany to be welded, to strengthen or to weaken. Richter put down his pipe on the table. " Stephen," he said suddenly, « you do not share the prejudice against us here ? " Stephen flushed. He thought of some vigorous words BAW MATEEIAL uj tigt_ M«5 P„„ RusseU had «^ on the subject of the "No," said he, emphaticaUy. of J We are still falT?* ?? '*'°" y" ^''<"' »">" tion." "'^y fought our revolu- hoi'dl"* '"'^'" "^^ ^'"P'"'"' "''''y d" thoy not keep their Richter sighed. that we were nof M"" !J . ^'^ '^''- ^^^ °»««t remember for centuries ground u^der heel "do "nf ''I'' ^^""^ ^"° parliamentarian No- vour h J. *• "'?.*' Practical Americans anf English • ^3 tTr^^ '' liberty-you oar native land tTaike of ,7'^^'°^^ ^^' desert "Then our Fatheriand was French On,. ™««. 11 was leather Jahn (so we love to call 120 THE CRISIS him), it was Father Jahn who founded the Turruehulen^ that the generations to come might return to simple Get- man ways, — plain fare, high principles, our native tongue, and the development of the body. The downfall of the fiend Napoleon and the Vaterland united — these two his scholars must have written in their hearts. All summer long, in their black caps and linen pantaloons, they would trudge after him, begging a crust here and a cheese there, to spread his teachings far and wide under the thatched roofs. " Then came 1811. I have heard my father tell how in the heat of that year a great red comet burned in the sky, even as that we now see, my friend. God forbid that this portends blood. But in the coming spring the French conscripts filled our sacred land like a swarm of locusts, devouring as they went. And at their head, with the pomp of Darius, rode that destroyer of nations and homes. Napoleon. What was Germany then ? Ashes. But the red embers were beneath, fanned by Father Jahn. Napoleon at Dresden made our princes weep. Never, even in the days of the Frankish kings, had we been so humbled. He dragged our young men with him to Russia, and left them to die moaning on the frozen wastes, while he drove ofF in his sledge. "It was the next year that Germany rose. High and low, rich and poor, Jaegers and Landwehr, came flocking into the army, and even the old men, the Landatrum. Russia was an ally, and later, Austria. My father, a lad of sixteen, was in the Landwehr, under the noble Bliicher in Silesia, when they drove the French into the Katzbach and the Neisse, swollen hy the rains into torrents. It had rained until the forests were marshes. Powder would not bum. But Bliicher, ah, there was a man! He whipped his great sabre from under his cloak, crying ' Vor- wUrU! Vorw&rU!' And the Landwehr with one great shout slew their enemies with the butts of their muskets until their arms were weary and the bodies were tossed like logs in the foaming waters. They called Bliicher Marshal VorwUrU! SF*^r '^^W. ^V^'g^ BAW MATERIAL 121 "Then Napoleon was sent to Elba Bnf *i,« ^ 4. quarrelled amongst themselv^ whn« TuU V^^^l widows and the fatherless, went for nothing." Kichter paused to light his pipe. Geri^CoX'^^^^^^^^^ Napoleon we had another despot in Metternich nfffh tree which Jahn had planted g?ew, and it bS^^^^^^ The great master was surrounded by spies Mvflfw .Xfor ^/r ^r^-^ity, when h7joffi-theX^.W Tt £' 1 Students' League, of which I will tell you lat^ It was pledged to the rescue of the Vaterlanrl ^ „J*ter. SanV^r Ti7 ^^r^ ^^ hanl\rcSn L b^ood'o? wt^l'i^^f 5'^ ^r ^^^^y *^ Mannheim. Afterward he prisor becauL^^the s^o^et^es m^et at^Cho^T XlZ^^, very poor my friend. You in America know not the meaning of that word. His health broke, and when '48 wJft'hu'^^ *^ ^^^ °^*°- His hair was white and he walked the streets with a crutch. But he had s^ved ^ little money to send me to Jena. * "He was proud of me. I was big-boned and fair like my mother. And when I came home ft the end of a K^r -- 1 can see him now, as he would hobble to the door weanng the red and black and gold of the Bur sXnJha^' And he would keep me up half the niJZ-ZlinT^n^i our ,cA%«r fights^ith ?he aristocX My afher had been a noted swordsman in his day." He stopped abruptly, and colored. For Stephen was stanng at the jagged scar. He had never simmoned TS courage to ask Richter how he came by it. '^"'''''^^ *^« « Schl&ffer fights ? " he exclaimed. ^u^j^^T^^^^^' answered the German, hastily. « Some day I wiU teU you of them, and of the struggle with the troops in the Breite Strasse in March. We lost ^I told you, because we knew not how to hold what we had gLei III 122 THE CRISIS I left Germany, hoping to make a home here for my poor father. How sad his t&ce as he kissed me farewell I ^ And he said to me: ' Carl, if ever your new Vaterland, the good Republic, be in danger, sacrifice all. I have -spent my years in bondage, and I say to you that life without liberty IS not worth tlie living.' Three months I was gone, and he was dead, without that for which he had striven so bravely. He never knew what it is to have an abun- dance of meat. He never knew from one day to the other when he would have to embrace me, all he owned, and march away to prison, because he was a patriot." Richter's voice had fallen low, but now he raised it. " Do you think, my friend," he cried, " do you think that I would not die willingly for this new country if the time should come ? Yes, and there are a million like me, once German, now American, who will give their lives to preserve this Union. For without it the world is not fit to live in." Stephen had food for thought as he walked northward through the strange streets on that summer evening. Here indeed was a force not to be reckoned, and which few had taken into account. '^^''^'Wfw:f CHAPTER n ABRAHAM LINCOLN It is sometimes instructive to look back cud see how Destiny gave us a kick here, and Fate a shove there, that sent us in the right direction at t'le proper time. And when Stephen Brice looks backward now, he laughs to think that he did not suspect the Judge of being an ally of the two who are mentioned above. The sum total of Mr. Whipple's words and advices to him that summer had been these. Stephen was dressed more carefully than usual, in view of a visit to Bellefontaine Road. Where- upon the Judge demanded whether he were contemplat- ing marriage. Without waiting for a reply he pointed to a rope and a slab of limestone on the pavement below, and waved his hand unmistakably toward the Mississippi. Miss Russell was of the opinion that Mr. Whipple had once been crossed in love. But we are to speak more particularly of a put-up job, although Stephen did not know this at the time. Towards five o'clock of a certain afternoon in August of that year, 1858, Mr. Whipple emerged from his den. Instead of turning to the right, he strode straight to Stephen's table. His communications were always a trifle startling. This was no exception. " Mr. Brice," said he, " you are to take the six forty- five train on the St. Louis, Alton, and Chicago road to- morrow morning for Springfield, Illinois." "Yes, sir." " Arriving at Sprinfield, you are to deliver this enve- lope into the hands of Mr. Abraham Lincoln, of the law firm of Lincoln & Herndon.' 12S , m T 124 THE CRISIS "Abraham Lincoln," interrupted the Judife, forcibly "I tnr to speak plainly, sir. fou are to defver U in^o Mr Lincoln's hands. If he is not in Springfield, find out where he is and follow him up. Your^x^n e S?n ^ndSlntrV" ^'^ ^^^^ ^'« import^t.^Do you Stephen did. And he knew better than to armie thp s:i^r/s ^'' '^'^??'" , "^ ""'^ ''^'- 1 Eot J}emoerat of this man Lincoln, a country lawyer who had once been to Congress, and who was even now dTsprin^ the senatorship of his state with the renowned D^ugt^^ li?f 1?!^ ^ ?^'% complacent amusement, he had won a little admiration from conservative citizens who did not ^i^v' 'VI' '^""ST- V^'^P ^oviE\^^^ Squatter Sover- ^?i ^i'-*.^*^^'"'^ *^'* ^^- L^°^°^"' wl^o had once been a ml-sphtter, was uproariously derided by Northern Demo- crats because he had challenged Mr. Douglas to seven debates to be held at different towns in the stete ofTll^ m*J!f; K i 7"**" v'%'"?^ *°^ ^'^ «™««*h round pebble Fnr M^ ^ "^T^ c *^^ same sympathy and ridicule. Hor Mr. Douglas, Senator and Judge, was a national character, mighty in politics, invulnerafi; iT^he armiro ?fttff p'^V A?^ ^' T^ \^°T ^*'- «°d wide as the Little Giant. Those whom he did not conquer with his logic were impressed by his person. Stephen remembered with a thrill that these debates were going on now. One, indeed, had been held, and had appeared m fine print m a comer of the Democrat. Per- haps this Lincoln might not be in Springfield ; perhaps he Stephen Brice, might, by chance, fit upon a d^batefand step^i^rD^t"" '' *'^ ^'"^^'^^^' *^' «-^-^^« But it is greatly to be feared that our friend Stephen was bored with his errand before he arrived at the fittle wooden station of the Illinois capital. Standing on the platform after the ;rain pulled out, he summfned up courage to ask a citizen with no mustache and a beard. •msm^t^-z:,^.^ ABRAHAM UNCOLN X25 picket fence Ld^i C, EnZ!-i i t- '" "'*""? P"**** opposite untiUhey caWtTfctr'"''*' -"''ting-house with mucTpTte'S^^i XT blTirth: "?""*?"! style, of » yellow .tone, wi^lfd whUe blSdfta ^^^ wmdows «>d mighty colu„.ns capp^Tth egent^S^uS whipJ. fwt Stephen paused under the awning of rounded and did homage to the vellow nilfl Tj!f i.^ u hel^r^' y°^«f °^^°'" «aid he, "who be you lookin' for "For Mr Lincoln," said Stephen. At this the gentlemar sat down on the dirtv tnn «*^r> and gave Tent to quiet but annoying Uughtef^ "^^ '''^' I recKon you come to the wrong plaS " "I was told thiu «,oo k:„ „i>i ?,r .; „ some heat was told this was his office,'^ said Stephen, with frie&d Whar be you from ? " said the citizen, with I don't see what that has to do with it,' interest, answered our M ' it: I I it ' 1 126 THE CRISIS 'I Wal," said the citizen, critically, " if yon was froi^ Philadelphy or Boston, you might stand acquitted." Stephen was on the point of claiming Boston, but wisely hesitated. " I m from St. Louis, with a message for Mr. Lincoln," he replied. " Ye talk like ye was from down East," said the citizen, who seemed in the humor for conversation. " I reckon * old Abe's * too busy to see you. Say, young man, did you ever hear of Stephen Arnold Douglas, ali"«* «»<» to n»^h thaLrt„':tT4h ne5T^;°r« '«'• Lincoln. ^ ^^ *° """^ «•»« this man Lil^l^'ot-t': "'" *"*' """''• "«'""' of •"» opposing the him. B„t^teveDo!glaa,t':i?;-„«'^%^y» -« *»"« His companion guffawed. ^ ^' no"5Sn"*^^a1''d'tr™a':^r"^r» ■"»'* '»-> :roit!"»,^rsd"5K-f^ "" themeelvea. bSL' Ab?»^n°f T'""*?"'''* "»" of tot of this week I 5en^^„\Tdl&"eS drntf, '''!? here ma caboose, while Dong wen "^ralrSjfS ""^ S!Sii 128 THE CRISIS station and the ragged town. The baggage man told him that Mr. Lincoln was at the tayern. That tavern I Will words describe the impression it made on a certain young man from Boston ! It was long and low and ramshackly, and hot that night as the inside of a brick-kiln. As he drew near it on the single plank walk over the black prairie-mud, he saw countrymen and politicians swarming its narrow porch and narrower hall. Discussions in all keys were in progress, and it was with vast difficulty that our distracted young man pushed through and found the landlord. This personage was the coolest of the lot. Confusion was but food for his smilds, importunity but increased his suavity. And of the seeming hundreds that pressed him, he knew and utilized the Christian name of all. From behind a corner of the bar he held them all at bay, and sent them to quar- ters like the old campaigner he was. " Now, Ben, tain't no use gettin' mad. You, and Josh- way, an' Will, an' Sam, an' the Cap'n, an' the four Beaver brothers, will all sleep In number ten. What's that, Franklin ? No, sirree, the Honerable Abe, and Mister Hill, and Jedge Oglesby is sleepin' in seven." The smell of perspiration was stifling as Stephen pushed up to the master of the situation. " What's that ? Supper, young man ? Ain't you had no supper ? Gosh, I reckon if you can fight your way to the ainin' room, the gak'll give you some pork and a cup of coffee." After a preliminary scuffle with a drunken countryman in mud-caJced boots, Mr. Brice presently reached the long table in the dining-room. A sense of humor not quite extinct made him smile as he devoured pork chops and greasy potatoes and heavy apple pie. As he was finishing the pie, he became aware of the tavern keeper standing over him. " Are you one of them flip Chicagy reporters ? " asked that worthy, with a suspicious eye on Stephen's clothes. Our friend denied this. *^ You didn't talk jest like 'em. Guess to-night. you' m i ABRAHAM LINCOLN jgO -I reckon," was the cheerful reply "Nnmh-, f There ain't nobody in there bnf R^rT 'nn- ™'*®', ^°- four Beaver brothL, an' tSee L^e nfe ""1 ^ down for ye next the north window/'* " ^""^ * ^*^^" him he was emboCTt7sav . - *''" contemplating « SS? ^'*' il*?°®^" 8^o°e *o bed ? " tori7rd>,:f„f the' R^^ubrnM^?^ % ">«• «-»• novel, at anv r«t« h1 »i,i. l1 ? ""^^ '" Illinois wore seen inlS.;t«t " """'^" °* <*"»'" '«'""»™ he 1««1 with the Je^dge and J« M^nTC!S»'-'"" ?f °°''""' ^^X'V^ -b^deitd'^/t^r'aptl^^^; "Kok ouftL"T"/- ^^"P^^" «k«d Stephen. no^';'i2?„'ttk"fte''s.sit^- ^^- "'"•' story. AH the bedroom "oorf were fl^n^o™" °*~'"' one, on which the number 7 w2 inSrited ^^ Tl "^J^P' came burets of upr™.rio„s la„ghTera'^|- a euTmo^JS pemg occupied. There was a very inhospitable-looking ^ '•1 m 180 THE CRISIS two shake-downs, and four Windsor chairs in more or less state of dilapidation — all occupied likewise. A country glass lamp was balnnced on a rough shelf, and under it a young man sat absorbed in making notes, and apparently oblivious to the noise around him. Every gentleman in the room was collarless, coatless, tieless, and vestless. Some were engaged in fighting gnats and June bugs, while others battled with mosquitoes — all save the young man who wrote, he being wholly indifferent. Stephen picked out the homeliest man in the room. There was no mistaking him. And, instead of a discus- sion of the campaign with the other gentlemen, Mr. Lin- coln was defending — what do you think? Mr. Lincoln was defending an occasional and judicious use of swear words. "Judge," said he, "you do an almighty lot of cuss- ing in your speeches, and perhaps it ain't a bad way to keep things stirred up." " Well, said the Judge, " a fellow will rip out some- thing once in a while before he has time to shut it off." Mr. Lincoln passed his fingers through his tousled hair. His thick lower lip crept over in front of the upper one. A gleam stirred in the deep-set gray eyes. " Boys," he asked, " did I ever tell you about Sam'l, the old Quaker's apprentice ? " There was a chorus of " No's " and " Go ahead, Abe I " The young man who was writing dropped his pencil. As for Stephen, this long, uncouth man of the plains was beginning to puzzle him. The face, with its crude fea- tures and deep furrows, relaxed into intense soberness. And Mr. Lincoln began his story with a slow earnestness that was trulj startling, considering the subject. " This apprentice. Judge, was just such an incurable as you." (Laughter.) "And Sam'l, when he wanted to, could get out as many cusses in a second as his anvil shot sparks. And the old man used to wrastle with him nights and speak about punishment, and pray for him in meeting. But it didn't do any good. When anything went wrong, Sam'l had an appropriate word for the occasion. One H^ vd^- '*'! \.k-,j, S^ L.^C 'JMiEX* ABRAHAM LINCOLN 131 day the old man got an inspiration when he was scratnh ing around in the dirt for J^ odd-sized iron ^' Sam I,' says he, ' I want thee.' bia ^^''Ir"^' V"^ ^?u "^ **^*' °^^ ™«" »*«°. V^^ ^^ ^""^ ^'"^ *h« ^^^ shot. str^llAd nff f ?r u*^^ ^'?. Pf*^' «f°* his teeth in it, and fha^rtl^^^^^^^^^^ r'^To? theoldman. ' WhaV areyou lere for ? ' ±^^^^ 7^eJAnZ\^dst^l^^- ^orTe\taA .rr^n,^^^^^^ boots "Yoa see," coqt nued Mr. Lincoln, "voTaae th. tnow that Jin. Rioketa wa.n't to b^ tSdwfth and laughed again, a little fainter. Then the I^dt« looked as solemn as his title. ''"'^^® « v7'?iil°* ^^r *^** h«- " You commit suicide " "a^Jseht sL*^l'''f ^ '^P^^' ^^'" said Mr M^ill, and light Stephen A. Douglas here and now Thia i«n'f anymcmc. Do you know who he is ? " ^^^^nt m.r. -IC l^ -^"f ''>id Mr. Lincoln, amiably. « He's a man wit^ tens of thousands of blind follower* It's mv BTthi« r^^l/^r "^*^r ^^^^ followTrr,eJ' ^ fh«vJ T •""^^*^P^^" ™ burning to know the question ^ ofh^r r'.^ ^^'^'^ *^ ^^ *^« ^i"^« Giant! and why hi^rtln^,^ S^L-^'^-'^r- rfi" w^teiTi :mrHmi>.:m-, STEPHEN LEABNS SOMETHING 137 heard somebody say : — * ^® ^® returned he "If that ain't just like Ah« v^ ^ out of his stocking when h« wlo • ^^^^^ ^ P^l a flea with Shields, an»»««»» ^w adhere he u, ThS-e tre nnrn,™^ '° ,* "^^^^ « *<> works for that matter tLf^„f ""^^ "°^^^«' «' ancient " There is fW '• *! P"* ^^^ down anywhere " t^ earth, and coJi'l^^rS^^rl,!: ^^^tt^' 188 THE CRISIS and could suddenly behold the earth, the sea, and the vault of heaven — ' " " But you — you impostor," cried Mr. Lincoln, inter- rupting, "you're giving us Humboldt's Cosmos." Mr. Hill owned up, laughing. It is remarkable how soon we accustom ourselves to a strange situation. And to Stephen it was no less strange to be walking over a muddy road of the prairie wi;h this most singular man and a newspaper correspondent, than it might have been to the sub-terrestrial inhabitant to emerge on the earth's surface. Stephen's mind was in the process of a chemical change : Suddenly it seemed to him as if he had known this tall Illinoisan always. The whim of the sena^rial candidate in choosing him for a companion he did not then try to account for. "Come, Mr. Stephen," said Mr. Lincoln, presently, " where do you hail from ? " " Boston," said Stephen. "No!" said Mr. Lincoln, incredulously. "And how does it happen that you come to me with a message from a rank Abolitionist lawyer in St. Louis ? " " Is the Judge a friend of yours, sir ? " Stephen asked. " What I " exclaimed Mr. Lincoln, " didn't he tell vou he was?" ^ "He said nothing at all, sir, except to tell me to travel until I found you." " I call the Judge a friend of mine," said Mr. Lincoln. " He may not claim me because I do not believe in putting all slave-owners to the sword." " I do not think that Judge Whipple is precisely an Abolitionist, sir." " What I And how do you feel, Mr. Stephen ? " Stephen replied in figures. It was rare with him, and he must have caught it from Mr. Lincoln. "I am not for ripping out the dam suddenly, sir. That would drown the nation. I believe that the water can be drained off in some other way." Mr. Lincoln's direct answer to this was to give Stephen a stinging slap between the shouldfer-blades. --^"js?:-t:-^ STEPHEN LEARNS SOMETHING 139 " God bless the boy I " he cried « h<> i«. xi. . . out. Bob, take that^dL™ foTth; i-r". ^ T^ H »»ny» otepben blurted out "T t tu Ui. were an Abolitionist, Mr. iScoln'' thought you but whether slavery shall stay where if il «^tl ^ I^^ that it rf... „«t'';'Sti. ^BlJtfteC^^Sf '^r-LI « Mr 1S1\** '""^'? '«"«' '™» «■« lining aH^,,. r *<^°"'"ow and hear the debate?" Bat n^- I T "i,^' y""'"* '"™ '''"lined with thanks He Jai/hir\^T* ^ I-mcoln guessed the cause, laughed ^ '''' *^^ y°^8^ °^*^'« «h«»^der, and sipTen'Sd" ''"^'°«^ °' "^** *^« J"^« -iU -y-" nol* i'fraif nf T^ °" *^,S "^"i^^f^'" ^id Mr. Lincoln. « Fm i^fe iLTa sl^r;I H« ^ew forth from the inexhaus^ « Thiit » P ^i paper, and began to write. mm« ;! ' • ^^ ^o' ^^®° ^® ^«i finished, "a friend of rd ti.XXInfr*''''*'" '"« -™W. »dt-U 110 THE CRISIS And this ia what he had written : — « I have borrowed Steve for a day or two, and goarantee to return him a good Republican. in»»n«» u> "A. LiirooLir." RJii."??^ remarking that this was the first time Mr. Bnce had been called " Steve " and had not resented it. Tin^f„ K ™^«°»barra8sed. He tried to thank Mr. Tk?.. *A^2^i**^^ gentleman's quizzical look cut him t" l °** *^® °®** remark made him easp. " Look here, Steve," said he, "you know a parlor from LtTeT^?^?t r'^'^* ""^ ^^^'^^"^ ^' -^^- ^ rooWhU moth'!''""''"'^' "^' '^ "^"^ ''^^' *^ «»« Jiirn**®" ^?y T^^^' ^^°^°^°' ^»*^ J»» characteristic smile, " vou thought that you wouldn't pick me out of a bunch of horses to race with the Senator." ^^ CHAPTER IV If THE QnBsnoN Many times since Abraham Lincoln has been called to that mansion which God has reserved for the patriots who have served Him also, Stephen Brice has thoSffht of that steaming night m the low^eUed room of the ooun- try tavern, reeking with the smell of coarse food and hot humanitv. He remembers vividly how at first his eorire rose, and recalls how gradually there crept over Eim a forgetfulness of the squaUdity and discomfort. Then came a space gray with puzilmg wonder. Then the dawning of a worship for a very ugly man in a rumpled and ill-m^Je coet. "*"i'*cu You wUl perceive that there was hope for Stephen. On his shake-down that night, obUvious to the snores of his coiManions and the droning of the insects, he lay awake. And before his eyes was that strange, marked face, with its deep hues that blended both humor and sadness there. It was homely, and yet Stephen found himself reflecting that honesty wfts just as homely, and plain truth. And yet both were b^utiful to those who had learned to love them. Just so this Mr. Lincoln. He fell asleep wondering why Judge Whipple had sent It was in accord with nature that reaction came with the mommg. Such a morning, and such a place I He was awakened, shivering, by the beat of rain on the roof, and stumbhng over the prostrate forms of the four Beaver brothers, reached the window. Clouds fiUed the sky, and Joshway, whose pallet was under the sUL was m a blessed state of moisture. No wonder some of his enthusiasm had trickled away I Ml ' 142 THE CRISIS ■3 II He made his toilet in the wet under the pump outdde, where he had to wait his turn. And he rather wished he were ^omg back to St. Louis. He had an early breakfast of fried eggs and underdone bacon, and c( ffee which made him pine for Hester's. The dishes were neither too clean nor too plentiful, bemg doused in water as soon as ever they were out of use. But after breakfast the sun came out, and a crowd col- lected around the tavern, although the air was chill and .«!? '^®y, ^^" the «ow easily be turned into soldiers, if the time should come," said Mr. Lincoln. And hS added quickly, " I pray that it may not." Stephen had cause to remember that observation, and the acumen it showed, lonff afterward. * The train made sever^ stops, and at each of them 1^^t"LT\^r^\^'^'^ ^' aisles, and pauld^or a mc«t familiar chat with the senatorial candidate. Many ^H tn h ^\- "'* »PP«*r?»°« ^w the equal in rough- nws to theirs, his manner if anything waJ more demo- rSlSr^'* 'wT^ ?^.*^^ *h^« Stephen in them detected a deference whicli might almost 6e termed a homa^ Ihere were many women among them. Had our friend been older, he might have known that the presencrof good women in a political crowd portends 8ome?W. mnrl -T' ^'T ^J"^^^'^' He was destined to be stfil more surprised that day. tnZ^nJ'n^^^ ^*^ ^^^*. ^^,^^ *h«™ th« «l»«"ts of the little town of Dixon, Mr. Lincoln took off his hat, and produced tVeTuf^S'udri^^L!^ '""^^°"^'*^ -'^^ ^' p^^' "-- "Now, Joe," said he, "here are the four questions I mtend to ask Judge Douglas. I am ready for^ou. Tire Mr M^dlir* "Rnt*?^^''^ *^^"* the others," answered s/iT. Meam. But I tell you this. If you ask that lu^o ond one you'll never see thie United Sta4 Senate " """' I. M^f Kepublican party in this state will have had a blow from which it can scarcely recover," added Mr. Judd, chairman of the committee. Mr. Lincoln did not appear to hear them. His eves were far away over the wet prairie. ^ nor /ud'd nl^ ?;« ^'«^th' , «»t neither he, nor Medill, nor Judd, nor Hill guessed at the pregnane v of that Umted States of Amenca wa? eoneealed in that Question, wf.'^^^an THE QUESTION j^ 5l-v*',f'".' '■"'^ned intently. " All riorhf.." ananr».»J '«i -*« n^« f asked Mr. Medill, refle^tincr fK- .k imentof fl,o«*K«--.. ^,,^;*"^'/eneoiing the sheer wearing your«lf „„?? 1'„d '^^ «*y */ devil are you time and money on yon? " " "pendmg our than . 'rrth'«t'"'CtS'e' iSn*'^ 'ST"" 1? «^«' »« <-^^ where to set you^l^^mThe" aAt "ra'telfvl'T 1 m m this camDaiM • tn nafni, n i ^" y°" ^^7 him out of thT'r^-te Ho'ut in ilo"" "tT" ""■ ''^ coantr,' of our,, Joe. Shersick -• ^^ "™ *" " Br^The™ 'JS .!'"^r.?y ""> "olamations. he got hT teh .^iLTt **'• "*•*"'• " ««n « ever Whfre do you ^i i^^' """^ ^' ff<" t" "how for it? Mr. Lincoln smiled wearily. " P^H"*®!! 'f «^«n'" he answered simply "Good Lord I ' said Mr. Judd. ^^• Mr. Medill gulped. A^' "ill 146 THE CRISIS ♦' You mean to say, >w the candidate of the Ilepublican party, you don't care whether you get to the Senate ? " "Not if I can send Steve Douglas there with his wines broken, was the calm reply. , "^^"^^^^ ^® ^°®* answer ye», that slavery can be ex- eluded?^' said Mr. Judd. "Then," said Mr. Lincoln, "then Douglas loses the vote of the great slave-holders, the vote of the soUd bouth, that he has been fostering ever since he has had i .!.,**^°Ji..*® ^^ President. Without the solid South the Little Giant will never live in the White House. And unless I m mightily mistaken, Steve Douglas has had his eye as far ahead as 1860 for some time." AnotJier silence followed these words. There was a stout man standing in the aisle, and he spav deftly out of the open window. « v" y?? "**y ^'"? ^*®^® Douglas, Abe," said he, gloomily, but the gun will kick you over the bluff." " Don't worry about me, Ed," said Mr. LinccS. « I'm not worth it." In a wave of comprehension the significance of all this was revealed to Stephen Brice. The grim humor, the sagacious statesmanship, and (best of all) the superb self- sacnfice o' it, struck him suddenly. I think it was in that hour that he realized the full extent of the wisdom he was near, which was like unto Solomon's. Shame surged in Stephen's face that he should have misjudged him. He had come to patronize. He had remained to worship. And in after years, when he thought of this new vital force which became part of him that day, it was in the terms of Emerson: "Pythagoras was misunderstood, and Socrates, and Jesus, and Luther, and Copernicus, and Galileo, and Newton, and every pure and wise spirit that ever took flesh. To be irreat is to be misunderstood." How many have conversed with Lincoln before and since, and ktew him not I If an outward and visible sign of Mr. Lincoln's great- ness were ncbded, — he had chosen to spsak to them in ^■^^ :'fd.i ' .4 :>S.- . ■t'*'''m''^:^..^ 'f- ?-'^^m^W^iaSD'^l.^\^ ^^"':Pi^:'-. J^^^yi: THE QUESTION I47 rone otter th«. Stephen A. Dougui, the Sy^Jeor tile iJ';:L«'&fLrnas "ATtSi^r ™'? Susan from being Mr. Rickets' bride. theXXurie:st"rord:j^?irterr/ an iKdThr£.S;%?'""'^ They wiU not budge bin. Finally Mr. Lincoln took the scrap of Dane- whiot, «oo rreeport. In the distance, bands could be heard nlRvina. and along the track, line upon line of men and wS "Bob," said Mr. Lincoln, "be sure you set that riol,. in your notes. And, Steve, you sUcrdcT to me ^d AU thstsSS?' ""'" P""""* ""• """O" and all." '^' ._ u "•»' otephen saw was s regular dav-csr on a siH« track. A bras, cannon was on the^der JtSrf Lindlt CHAPTER V THE CRISIS Stephen A. Douglas, called the Little Giant on account of his intoUect, was a type of man of which our race has had some notable examples, although they are not characteristic. Capable of sacrifice to their country, per- sonal ambition is, nevertheless, the mainspring of their actions. They must either be before the public, or else unhappy This trait gives them a large theatrical strain, and sometimes brands them as adventurers. Their abilitv saves them from being demagogues. In the case of Douglas, he had deliberately renewed some years before the agitation on the spread of slavery, by setting forth a doctrine of extreme cleverness. This doc- trine, like many others of its kind, seemed at first sight to be the balm it pretended, mstead of an irritant, as it really was. It was calculated to deceive all except thinking men, and to silence all save a merciless logician. And this merciless logician, who was heaven-sent in time of need, was Abraham Lincoln. w^'*^?!?"^^*?:'!** * J^'Srgler, a political prestidigitateur. He did things before the eyes of tlie Senate and the nation. His l»lra for the healing of the nation's wounds was a patent medicine so cleverly concocted that experte alone could show what was in it. So abstruse and tested were some of Mr. Douglas's doctrines that a genius alone miffht put them into simple words, for the common people. ihe great panacea for the slavery trouble put forth bv Mr. Douglas at that time was briefly this : that the peo- ple of the new territories should decide for themselves, subject to the Constitution, whether they should have slavery or not, and also decide for themselyeg all other 148 THE CRISIS j^^ mi.ht bring with'telTtheTltrlfpleS ""'''^ to his immortal honor^bTu said thrthf^K"™""/' ""• not what he does" 1 inn^fi a ^*™' ^^d. He knows and th.^wWa'Sy intone"""'"' *' ""•««' «'"• t »"•! to- =ari„i«; uf ner ohmate. The rain had ceaLd, 100 THE CRISIS and quickly was come out of the northwest a boisterous wind, chilled by the lakes and scented by the hemlocks of the Minnesota forests. The sun smiled and frowned. Clouds hurried in the s^y, mocking the human hubbub below. Cheering thousands pressed about the station as Mr. Lincoln's train arrived. They hemmed him in his triumphal passage under the great arching trees to the new Brewster House. The Chief Marshal and his aides, great men before, were r denly immortal. The county delegations fell into then proper precedence like minis- ters at a state dinner. '* We have faith in Abraham, Yet another CowUjf for tht Bail-apliUer, Abe the Giant-killer" — so the banners read. Here, much bedecked, was the Galena Lincoln Clvi, part of Joe Davies's shipment. Fifes skirled, and drums throbbed, and the stars and stripes snaoped in the breeze. And here was a delega- tion headed by fifty sturdy ladies on horseback, at whom Stephen gaped like a countryman. Then came carryalls of all ages and degrees, wagons from this county and that couiri;y, giddily draped, drawn by horses from one to six, or by mules, their inscriptions addressing their senatorial candidate in all degrees of familiarity, but not contempt. What they seemed proudest of was that he had been a rail-splitter, for nearly all bore a fence-rail. But stay, what is this wagon with the high sapling flagstaff in the middle, and the leaves still on it ? " Weshoard the Star of Empire takes iU way. The girlt link on to Lincoln ; their mothers were /or Clay." Here was glory to blind you, — two and thirty maids in red sashes and blue liberty caps with white stars. Each was a state of the Union, and every one of thera was for Abraham, who called then» his "Basket of Flowers." Behind them, most touching of all, sat a thirty-third shac- kled in chains. That was Kansas. Alas, the mien of Kansas was far from being as sorrowful as the part demanded, — in spite of her instructions she would smile at the bovs. But the appealing inscription she bore, " Set me free I ' was greeted with st-orms of lau^htAr thn h^ldes- THE CBIMg m of the yoimgr men shouting that she was too beautiful to be free, and some of the old men, to their shame be it said likewise riiowted. No false embarrassment troubled Kan- Ta k Z^^J'^^^y P^******- ^"* **»« young men who had brought their sweethearts to town, and wefe standing hand m hand with them, for obvioun reasons saw nothing They scarcelT dared to look at Kansas, and those who dfd were so loudly rebuked that they turned down the side streets. During this part of the day these loving couples, whose devotion was so patent to the whole w<5ld, were by far the most absorbing to Stephen. He watched them having */S'!' rr*^"'i^.V!\*t^ young women blushing and crying. Say ! and « Ain't he wicked ? " and the yoSng men get- ting their ears boxed for certain remarks. He watched them standing open-mouthed at the booths and side shows, with hands still locked, or again they were chewing cream candy m unison. Or he ghmced sidewiae at them, seated m the open places with the world so far below them that even the insistent sound of i > fifes and drums rose bat faintly to their ears. And perhaps, — we shall boI say positively, — perhaps Mr. Brice s thoughts w^nt something like this, ** O that love were so simple a matter to all ! " But graven on his face was what is called the - Boston scorn." And no scorn has been known like unto it since the days of Athens. bo Stephen made the best of his way to the Brewster House, the elegance and newness of which the citizens of I'reeport openly boasted. Mr. Lincoln had preceded him and was even then listening to a few remarks of burning praise by an honorable prentieman. Mr. Lincoln himself made a few renmrks, which seemed so simple and rang so true, and were so free from political rococo and decoration generally that even the young men forgot their sweet- hearts to listen. Then Mr. Lincoln went into the hotel, and the sun slipped under a black cloud. The lobby was full, and rather dirty, since the supply of spittoons was so fer behind the demand. Like the fir- maiaent, it was diviuod into Uttie Dodies which revolved 152 THE CBISIS ;?^^ Jl^f ^*': ^J^*>«" lacked not here euppprters of the Little Giant, and discreet farmers of influence in St^^f """^ countiM who waited to hear the afternoon's debate ^^f ore deciding. These and others did not hesitate to tell . the magnificence of the Little Giant's torohlijrht procewiun the previous evening. Every Dred-Scottite had carried a torch, and many transparencies, so that the verv te-°/ -i *l*^ iS™^ ""'^^^ ^^ ^y- The Chief Lictor had distributed these torches with an unheard^f liberality. But there lacked not detractors who swore that John Dib- ble and other Lmcolnites had applied for torches for the mere pl^ure of carrying them. Since dawn the delega- tions had been heralded from the house-tope, and wairered on while they were yet as worms far out on the prairie. All the morning these continued to come in, and form in line to march past their particular candidate. The second ?!Tn r®^* ®^*^? ^^y ^^ *^« eveiit of the special over ttoe tralena road, of sixteen cars and more than a thousand pairs of sovereign lungs. With b litary precision they repaired to tl^ Brewster House, u i aEeid of them a Unner was flung : « Winnebago Jounty for the TaU fh^ And the Tall Sucker was on the st^ps to^t^ *«?k* ¥^' P^^«^f^ ^^o had arrived he evening before JT ^"^PS ""^ two and thirty gu ^ had his banners and his buntin|r, too. The neighborhc d uf Freeport was ?hf ? *S n • of Northern Democrats, ardent supporters of the lattle Giant if once they could believe that^ did not mtend to betray them. ^^f^?f i^^^ ^ his bones the coming of a struggle, and was thrilled. Once he smiled at the thought thS he had become an active partisan — nay, a worshipper — of the un- couth Lincoln. Terrible suspicion for a Bostonian, — had dL!r "*' v^« !JY ■ u^^ ^' ^«'«' »^*«' ^^ « homespun demagogue / Had he been wise in deciding before he Ld *n7fl * ^iif S^i!"^ the accomplished DougU whose name and fame filled the land? Stephen did not waver in his allegiance. But in his heart there lurked a fear of the sophisticated Judge and Senator and inss of ths world THE CRISIS J53 ponaermg in . corner of th/lobby at dinnerSr^ft"" ? SM""*^ '•"' '°8"''er to their Candida JjZ,m n! other poUtilu^ZZ^^onTuI * M™ ,'^°«', »' *'«' loolc out for this vZI min Get hL . '^.' '"?' ^^ *» where he can hear " ("t him a Mat on the etand, ge^^tet'^'n're';^^ ^eZ-heTd"-' 'I" L^co" ^d tfe,m " a d^nZf * """' ""y. f'ither'Mr. rr&ed«;SHl^%T- fiWat-e-Af£x5^'^^- ^an^ WW ^*^«"«*°d people on such a day, aad quailed. What a man of a&irs it must take to do thlt » ^•-pr^Sn«li^S,"^:^^SH£ membe,«i. .. they doCd fmm ^ f;..n^.^ '5l\''l"- Ui-t .t wa. no, n«„iy .-political debate, xiie'^ul* ^ a 154 THE CRISIS %> ■\ {' nation was here, a great nation stricken with approach- ing fever. It was not now a case of excise, but ^ exist- ence. This son of toil who had driven his family thirty miles across the prairie, blanketed his tired horses and slept on the ground the night before, who was willing to stand all through the afternoon and listen with pathetic eagerness to this debate, must be moved by a patriotism divine. In the brewt of that farmer, in the breast of his tired wife who held her child by the hand, had been instiUed from birth that sublime fervor which is part of their life who mhent the Declaration of Independence. Instinctively these men who had fought and won the West had scented the danger. With the spirit of their ancestors who had left their farmp to die on the bridge at Concord, or follow Ethan Allen into Ticonderoga, these had come to ^reeport. What were three days of bodily discomfort I What even the loss of part of a cherished crop, if the nations existence were at stake and their votes miirht save It ! * In the midst of that heaving human sea rose the bul- warks of a wooden stand. But how to reach it? Jim was evidently a personage. The rough farmers commonly squeezed a wav for him. And when they did not, he made it with his big body. As they drew near their taven, a great surging as of a tidal wave swept them off their feet. There was a deafening shout, and the stand rocked on its foundations. Before Stephen could collect his wite, a fierce battle was raging about him. Abolition- ist and Democrat, Free Soiler and Squatter Sov, defaced one another m a rush for the platform. The committee- men and reporters on top of it rose to its defence. Well for Stephen that his companion was along. Jim was recognized and hauled bodily into the fort, and Stephen aiter hina. The populace were driven off, and when the excitement died down again, he found himself in the row behind the reporters. Young Mr. Hill paused while sharpening his pencU to wave him a friendlv greetmg. ^ TR£ CRISIS IW A personage truly, to be Questioned timidly, to be appn^ched adWly. Here Indeed was a iW by th^ very look of him, master of himself and of oS^rs^ Bv J^^fi^l^TaJrlV^r' --"li- •^ren^tr-han'S: I^^ fKo K ^'^v,''.^}^ "^""^^^ *° *^« c"*^ of the coat across the broad shoulders. Here Was one to Mft » jroun«ter into the realm of emulatioZlike a character i^d fct meT^Fo^™'' °' ^'"^-^^^^ -d ^^^^^^ ana great men. For this was one to be consulted bv the ITm^^r^' ^ f «^"^.°^ ^^^y *"d power wfth^i^! netism to compel moods. Since, when he smiled vou rstj^ed^^v:' ^""™"' ""- "■^^ "- '"™«^ »2" ^^."1. '° H*^" '""^' ""> K"Iped. There w2^ bT^^ one word. How «mnft^, Abraham Lincohi looked hedde Stephen Arnold Douglas I "ewoe Had the Lord ever before made and aet over aeainst ^ittn^rT'"^'"""'"'-' Ve..for.„chr5.': nP.Tw^^"^'"*'^ speaking was in progress, but Stephen neither heard nor saw until he felt the heavy hand of his companion on his knee. ^ * thrJtwn - f^^^^^^i^g.n^^h^^y strange, like fate, between them two, he was saying. « I recklect twenty-live years ago when they was first in the Legislatur' together"^ 1 man told me that they was both admitted to fractL in the & preme Court m '39, on the mme day, sir. Then you know they was nip an' tuck after the slue young ladv Li^l/r- . • P^2'^" ^^ ^° ^^^^S'^^ togetlfer, t^e Little Giant in the Senate, and now. Lv^ thj^rfv^ ;' lu. greatest set of debates the people of this state '.er h^rd^ ?»' ''■pt-j IM THE CRI8I8 Yotmgman, th« hand of fate is in thia here, mark ;ny ^ItZl "TJiJi *""•> *°** *^? ^*^«» °^ *^»t vast human sea were .tilM A man, -lean, angular, with coat-tails No confidence was there. Stooping forward, Abraham hS {!* h^^ speak, and Stephen Brice hung his head, and shuddered. Could this shriU falsetto be tlie same voice to which he had listened only that morning? Could this awkward, yellow man with his hands behinS his back be he whom he had worshipped? Ripples of derUive i3d^'TT-^"!?^*^?J*"~'?° *^« •'^^d "^"d from ihe Z^t ww"'^ *^*;i'w "T?* t^« »g«°y oi those moments I But what was this feehnff that gradually crept over ^? Surprise? Cautiously he raised his^yes. The hands were commg around to the front. Suddenly one f ^i *!f ^^"i^''^^*^ ?ha/Pl7 back, with a determined ges- fveir thaf fil' K^ •'^5°^*'' ™ *'°'°*- ^"* ^"^ be lost even that, for his mmd was gone on a journey. And when agam he came to himself and looked upon Abraham t^hh^T^ "" V * '"•r *~°»^°"»«d- The voice was no w^K f^i* *^*^' i'* "^"^ °°^ » powerful instrument which plajred strangely on those who Wrd. Now it rose! and Mrain It fell into tones so low as to start a stir whkh spread and spread, like a ripple in a pond, until it broke on the very edge of that vast audience. « Can the peopU of a United States Territory, in any law- ful way.agatmtthe with of any citizen of the UniUd ItcAee of H^IJ^rV* lj«h™jocably writ in the recording ursok of History, for better, for worse. Beyond the ret o of politician, committee, or caucus. But what man amonjrst those who heard and stirred might say that these minS thT "".T ^r^°«i°^ eternity Lid t^e Crisis^a^aSon tlmt 18 the hope of the world? Not you. Judge DouS who sit there smiling. Consternation is aXaZ? iS your heart, -but answer that Question if you cS^ Y^ THE CRISIS tm your nimble wit ha« helped you out of many « tight cor- ner. You do not feel the nooee— as vet Yon 3^ «L gue« that your reply will make or m^r^he fortune, o CiTnX'thi' ? n r "^° ^° 1-^ SleaJtto Sort It^Th^i f^ the ship of democracy splitting on the rocks at Char eston and at Baltimore, when the power of ^n J name might have steered her safely. ^ ^^ ^°"' On- K '^ ' T*"** " i*'^" °»»° »^"* whom you despise ' One by one he is taking the screws out nfVj,^ '^^ " which vou have invented to ruTyour ship LooTC holc^ tfiem in his hands without mfxTg them, and Jhows the false construction of its secret parts. *or Abraham Lincoln dealt with abstruse niiflntinn- i« f\TpK,°^/°?,^".**^ *°^ marvelled. The simplidtv of the Bible dwells in those speeches, and they ar?now da^ was that this man who could be a buffoon, w^ose sS was coarse and whose person unkempt, could p^vS self a tower of morality and truth.^ That hrtroubled "^TLfifr.^^"" "°^ «^»°« «^« debate a^F™^ ^ft^T ^.°"'' *^°*^ *" **^ quickly to an end And Sl>f Moderator gave the signal forilr. Lir.coln it wm Stephen 8 big companion wh5 snapped the stSn 3 voiced the sentiment of those about him. ' ""^ Abe^Id^U i' him.""'' " '^ *"«*^* «^-- I <«<1-'^ think anJtWna w'tffl^i^P^t" ^- ^°"^^»«' however, seemed anytlung but baffled as he rose to reply. As he waited for the cheers which greeted him to die out, hiratti tude was easy and indifferent, as a public man's"d eSiV f^^ q?T*'°S ^^^t^ °«* ^ t'«"ble him in the leTt But for Stephen Brice the Judge stood there stripped of roff^i^wf "P' *^® ""T P®"°° °^ tJ^« Little Giant was contra^ctory, ^ was the man himself. His height was insignificant. But he had the head and shouldera oil HI S!^^Z^ f^-y'^m^nmams mmmmmmmmmmm MICROCOPY RfSOWTION TIST CHART (ANSI and ISO TEST CHART hte. 2) 1.0 |M lii lit u u M2B |4X> 23 2.2 2.0 il 1.8 A /1PPLIED IfVHGE Inc 1853 Eai< Main Strtcl Roch««t«r. Nm York 14609 USA (718) 482 - 0300 - Ph « (716) 2aa-S«89-F 158 THE CRISIS lion, and even the lion's roar. What a contrast the ring of his deep bass to the tentative falsetto of Mr. Lincoln's opening words ! If Stephen expected the Judge to tremble, he was greatly disappointed. Mr. Douglas was far from dismay. As if to show the people how lightly he held his opponent's warnings, he made them gape by putting things down Mr. Lincoln's shirt-front and taking them out of his mouth. But it appeared to Stephen, listening with all his might, that the Judge was a trifle more on the defensive than his attitude might lead one to expect. Was he not among his own Northern Democrats at Free- port ? And yet it seemed to give him a keen pleasure to call his hearers " Black Republicans." "Not black," came from the crowd again and again, and once a man shouted, "Couldn't you modify it and call it brown?'' " Not a whit ! " cried the Judge, and dubbed them " Yan- kees," although himself a Vermonter by birth. He implied that most of these Black Republicans desired negro wives. But quick, — to the Question. How was the Little Giant, artful in debate as he was, to get over that without offence to the great South? Very skilfully the Judge disposed of the first of the interrogations. And then, save for the gusts of wind rustling the trees, the grove might have been empty of its thousands, such was the silence that fell. But tighter and tighter they pressed against the stand, until it trembled. Oh, Judge, the time of all artfui men will come at length ! How were you to foresee a certain day under the White Dome of the Capitol ? Had your sight been long, you would have paused before your answer. Had your sight been long, you would have seen this ugly Lin- coln bareheaded before the Nation, and you are holding his hat. Judge Douglas, this act alone has redeemed your faults. It has given you a nobility of which we did not suspect you. At the end God gave you strength to be humble, and so you left the name of a patriot. Judge, you thought there was a passage between Scylla and Charybdis which your craftiness might overcome. 'f ^ ^" ^ «°^^^^ ^^ welcome ^ 5t;h:'n!^with\tX^^^ ''^- Lincoln's message." asked Ja1^5T*° shrugged his shoulders. Ab, I know not," he answered. «He has ^oha fn .wT\ The Judge is ill, Stephen. Doctor PoTsavs that he has worked all his life too hard. The Doc or and Colonel Carvel tried to get him to go to Glencoe But he would not budge until Miss Carvel herself comes all the exclaimed Richter, impulsively, "what wonderful women rnk'rMLlSr^^s!'-; ' ^°^' '-^ -y ^-^ -^-5 a tofe^f ?nq%"'' '"'' ^'" ^^ " " ^^^^^^^^ ^P^^^d' - iponnerr said Richter, disgusted, "you don't care" Stephen laughed, in spite of gimself . ^ a«.i!^ ^^^ T^^ ^I" ^^ answered. And becoming grave apin, added: "Except on Judge Whipple's afc^Sit Have you heard from him to-day, Carl?" ^^ ^• ' This morning one of Colonel Carvel's servants came * 161 t > . I. \ ii • 162 THE CRISIS for his letters. He must be feeling better. I — I pray that he is better," said Richter, his voice breaking. " He has been very good to me." Stephen said nothing. But he had been conscious all at once of an affection for the Judge of which he had not suspected himself. That afternoon, on his way home, he stopped at Carvel & Company's to inquire. Mr. Whipple was better, so Mr. Hopper said, and added that he "pre- sumed likely the Colonel would not be in for a week." It was then Saturday. Eliphalet was actually in the Colonel's sanctum behind the partition, giving orders to several clerks at the time. He was so prosperous and important that he could scarce spare a moment to answer Stephen, who went away wondering whether he had been wise to choose the law. On Monday, when Stephen called at Carvel & Com- pany's, Eliphalet was too busy to see him. But Ephum, who went out to Glencoe every night with orders, told him that the " Jedge was wuss, suh." On Wednesday, there being little change, Mrs. Brice ventured to despatch a jelly by Ephum. On Friday afternoon, when Stephen was ieep in Whittlesey and the New Code, he became aware of Ephum standing beside him. In reply to his anxious question Ephum answered : — " I reckon he better, suh. He an' de Colonel done com- mence wrastlin' 'bout a man name o' Linkum. De Colonel done wrote you dis note, suh." It was a very polite note, containing the Colonel's com- pliments, asking Mr. Brice to Glencoe that afternoon with whatever papers or letters the Judge might wish to see. And since there was no convenient train in the evening. Colonel Carvel would feel honored if Mr. Brice would spend the night. The Colonel mentioned the train on which Mr. Brice was expected. The Missouri side of the Mississippi is a very different country from the hot and treeless prairies of Illinois. As Stephen alighted at the little station at Glencoe and was driven away by Ned in the Colonel's buggy, he drew in deep breatha of the sweet air of the Meramec Valley. GLENCOE 16S There had been a shower, and the gun glistened on the drops on grass and flowers, and the great trees hung heavy over the clay road. At last they ctme to a white^gate^^ the picket fence, m sight of a rambling wooden houfe wi h a veranda in front covered with honeysuckle. And Then he saw the Colonel, in white marseiuis, smokint; a cigar This, indeed, was real country. "^ ^ As Stephen trod the rough flags between the hicrh grass which led toward the house, Colonel Carvel rose to hiffull height and greeted him. "You are very welcome, sir," he said gravely. "The Judge is asleep now," he added. " I regret to s^y that we had a little argument this morning, and my daughter tells me It will be well not to excite him again to-day. Jinnv 18 reading to him now, or she would be here to entertain K J^'- K^"'"- "^.f '^«°^ • " ^"^^ Mr. Carvel, " show Mr rJrice to his room. Jackson appeared hurriedly, seized Stephen's bag, and o a nrr^iT,*^''" through the cool and darkened house to a pretty little room on the south side, with matting, and roses on the simple dressing-table. After he had sat awhile staring at these, and at the wet flower-garden from between the slats of his shutters, he removed the signs ot the railroad upon him and descended. The Colonll was still on the porch, in his easy-chair. He had lighted an- other cigar, and on the stand beside him stood two tall glasses green with the fresh mint. Colonel Carvel rose, and with his own i-und offered one to Stephen. " Your health, Mr. Brice," he said. « and I hope you will feel at h.me here sir. Jackson will bring yoranythinff you desire, and should you wish te driveTl shall be de- iignted to show you the country." Stephen drank that julep with' reverence, and then the Colonel gave him a cigar. He was quite overcome by this treatment of a penniless young Yankee. The Colonel did not talk politics — such was not his notion of hospitality to a stranger. He talked horse, and no great discernment Mr'c^^veT/hSyr" '"''' '^ ^^^^^^^'^ ^^^^ '''^ ^^ I i; ml 164 THE CRISIS mi f ' *' I used to have a stable, Mr. Brice, before they rained gentleman's sport with these trotters ten years ago. Yes, sir, we used to be at Lexington one week, and Louisville the next, and over here on the Ames track after that. Did you ever hear of Water Witch and Netty Boone?" Yes, Stephen had, from Mr. Jack Brinsmade. The Colonel's face beamed. "Why, sir," he cried, "that very nigger, Ned, w ho drove you here from the cars — he used to ride Netty Boone. Would you believe that, Mr. Brice? He was the best jockey ever strode a horse on the Elleardsville track here. He wore my yellow and grecii, sir, until he got to weigh one hundred and a quarter. And I kept him down to that weight a whole year, Mr. Brice. Yes, sirree, a whole year." » " Kept him down I " said Stephen. " Why, yes, sir. I had him wrapped in blankets and set in a chair with holes bored in the seat. Then we lighted a spirit lamp under him. Many a time I took on ten pounds that way. It needs fire to get flesh off a nigger, sir." He didn't notice his guest's amazement. "Then, sir," he continued, "they introduced these damned trotting races ; trotting races are for white trash, Mr. Brice." "Pal" The Colonel stopped short. Stephen was already on his feet. I wish you could have seen Miss Virginia Car- vel as he saw her then. She wore a white lawn dress. A tea-tray was in her hand, and her head was tilted back, as women are apt to do when they carry a burden. It was so that these Southern families, who were so bitter against Abolitionists and Yankees, entertained them when they were poor, and nursed them when they were ill. Stephen, for his life, could not utter a word. But Vir- ginia turned to him with perfect self-possession. " He has been boring you with his horses, Mr. Brice," dhe said. " Has he told you what a jockey Ned used to be ^fP'W' GLENCOE jgg before he weighed one hundred and a quarter 9" f\ lo. x. Bote ^. V-rrUerrt "' ^""^' '«■» »^^^^^^^^^ Stephen.) ^ "pf I teU vn" '"« ""'"'■•■•«™n,ent foi driv^ every gue^t \J^Ii\T^ "^'^ *«' y- "i" intolerable:"^ ""' '"""«• ^""f jockey talk is ViJinra'p^r^Soli^i^i .tL^r'"" "' *"<' ^^ ■- -"-•' "ked, " K'inreYut',':^'"'^" -««- " My dear," he Ml^^y E^t^r irwith^S'twr'J^' V'" '» ■«'««?• w sayimr. He talks In k f ', ^'"? *» ""»ke out what fie " An/ „!,.: • I "" ''**P' J''st as you do — " intertfd ■"** " '"' ^^'-S' " ^eman/ed the Colonel, Virginia set down the tray. a awelp'T^'er'at' "^S'n'oT.t'"^'? m^C.^e^, with Vii^inia "''* y°" '*' '"y "o™ ? " added Miss th:te'^i'e.""!.Vw"tw'C?h'"Tj',^ «»* "o™ o" white goatee on S chTi^^^L ^ff & "w "^ ""^ speech that country bumnldn n„Vi ^' ?° * J™" ">« ""vll^'? ^H^t R«P-bS"o'onv™SiTn1riiL"o^?" '"' ve^X''it tr^TirrtKr 1 ^?1^^^™ -- r^ir^ia. "-^"^"'^^^^^^^i.t^^ The Colonel rose. '^^ !^:- 166 THE CRISIS .'ill " You will pardon my absence for a while, sir," he said. "My daughter will entertain you." Id silence they watched him as he strode off under the trees through tall grass, a yellow setter at his heels. A strange peace was over Stephen. The shadows of the walnuts and hickories were growing long, and a rich country was giving up its scent to the evening air. From a cabin behind the house was wafted the melody of a plantation song. To the young man, aftei' the burnt city, this was paradise. And then he remembered his mother as she must be sitting on the tiny porch in town, and sighed. Only two years ago she had been at their own place at Westbury. He looked up, and saw the girl watching him. He dared not think that the expression he caught was one of sympathy, for it changed instantly. " I am afraid you are the silent kind, Mr. Brice," said she ; " I believe it is a Yankee trait." Stephen laughed. " I have known a great many who were not," said he. " When they are garrulous, they are very much so." ** I should prefer a garrulous one," said Virginia. " I should think a Yankee were bad enough, but a noisy Yankee not to be put up with," he ventured. Virginia did not deign a direct reply to this, save by the corners of her mouth. "I wonder," said she, thoughtfully, "whether it is strength of mind or a lack of ideas that makes them silent." " It is mostly prudence," said Mr. Brice. " Prudence is our dominant trait." Virginia fidgeted. Usually she had an easier time. " You have not always shown it," she said, with an innocence which in women is often charged with meaning. Stephen started. Her antagonism was still there. He would have liked greatly to know whether she referred to his hasty purchase of Hester, or to his rashness in dancing with her at her party the winter before. " We have something left to be thankful for," he an- swered. " We are still capable of action." GLENCOE ler " On occasiona it is violence," said Virginia, desperately. This man must not get ahead of her. "It is just as violent," said he, "as the repressed feeling which prompts it." This was a new kind of conversation to Virginia. Of all the young men she knew, not one had ever ventured into anything of the sort. They were either flippant, or sentimental, or both. She was at once flattered and an- noyed. Flattered, because, as a woman, Stephen had con- ceded her a mind. Many of the young men she knew had minds, but deemed that these were wasted on women, whose language was generally supposed to be a kind of childish twaddle. Even Jack Brinsmade rarely risked his dignity and reputation at an intellectual tilt. This was one of Virginia's grievances. She often argued with her father, and, if the truth were told, had had more than one victory over Judge Whipple. Virginia's annoyance came from the fact that she per- ceived in Stephen a natural and merciless logic, — a fac- ulty for getting at the bottom of things. His brain did not seem to be thrown out of gear by local magnetic influ- ences, — by beauty, for instance. He did not lose his head, as did some others she knew, at the approach of feminine charms. Here was a grand subject, then, to try the mettle of any woman. One with less mettle wouk^ have given it up. But Virginia thought it would b. delightful to brin^f this particular Yankee to his knees, and — and leave him there. " Mr. Brice," she said, " I have not spoken to you sine the night of my party. I believe we danced together." "Yes, we did," said he, "and I called but was unfortu nate." "You called?" Ah, Virginia I *• They did not tell you I " cried Stephen. Now Miss Carvel was complacency itself. " Jackson is so careless with cards," said she, " and very often I do not take the trouble to read them." "I am sorry," said he, "as I wished for the opportunity if 168 THE CRISIS ll;: :■ I: to tell you how much I enjojed myself. I have found everybody in St. Louis very Jcind to strangers." Virginia was nearly disarmed. She remembered how she had opposed his coming. But honesty as well as something else prompted her to say : — '♦ It was my father who invited you." Stephen did not reveal the shock h«8 vanity had received. "At least you were good enough to dance with me." " I could scarcely refuse a guest," she replied. He held up his head. " Had I thought it would have given you annoyance," he said quietly, " I should not have asked you." " Which would have been a lack of good manners," said Virginia, biting her lips. Stephen answered nothing, but wished himself in St. Louis. He could not comprehend her cruelty. Bu.,, just then, the bell rang for supper, and the Colonel appeared around the end of the house. It was one of those suppers for which the South is re- nowned. And when at length he could induce Stephen to eat no more. Colonel Carvel reached for his broad-brimmed felt hat, and sat smoking, with his feet against the mantle. Virginia, who had talked but little, disappeared with a tray on which she had placed with her own hands some dainties to tempt the Judge. The Colonel regaled Stephen, when she was gone, with the pedigree and performance of every horse he had had in his stable. And this was a relief, as it gave him an opportunity to think without interruption upon Virginia's pronounced attitude of dislike. To him it was inconceiv- able that a young woman of such qualities as she appeared to have, should assail him so persistently for freeing a negress, and so depriving her of a maid she had set her heart upon. There were other New England young men in society. Mr. Weston and Mr. Carpenter, and more. They were not her particular friends, to be sure. But they called on her and danced with her, and she had shown thena not the least antipathy. But it was to Stephen's credit that he did not analyze further. OLENCOE 1C9 He was reflecting on these things when he got to hJH room, when there came a knock at the door. It was Mammy Easter, in bright turban and apron, — was hospitality and comfort in the flesh. " Is you got all you need, suh ? " she inquired. Stephen replied that he had. But Mammy showed no inclination to ^o, and he was too polite to shut the door. "How you like Glencoe, Mistah Brice? " He was charmed with it. " We has some of de fust fam'lies out heah in de sum- mer," said she. ♦♦ But de Colonel, he ain't much on a gran' place laik in Kaintuck. Shucks, no, suh, dis ain't much of a 'stablishment ! Young Massa won't have no lawns, no greenhouses, no nothin". He say he laik it wil' and simple. He on'y come out fo' two months, mebbe. But Miss Jinny, she make it lively. Las' week, until the Jedge come we hab dis house chuck full, two — three voung ladies in a room, an' five young gemmen on trunnle beds." " Until the Judge came ? " echoed Stephen. " Yassuh. Den Miss Jinny low dey all hatter go. She say she ain't gwineter have 'em roun' 'sturbin' a sick man. De Colonel 'monstrated. He done give the Judge his big room, and he say he and de young men gwine ober tc Mistah Catherwood's. You ain't never seen Miss Jinny rise up, suh ! She des swep' 'em all out " (Mammy empha- sized this by rolling her hands) "an' declah she gwine ten' to the Jedge herself. She ain't never let me bring up one of his meals, suh." And so she left Stephen with some food for reflection. Virginia was very gay at breakfast, and said that the Judge would see Stephen; so he and the Colonel, that gentleman with his hat on, went up to his room. The shutters were thrown open, and the morning sunlight filtered through the leaves and fell on the four-poster where the Judge sat up, gaunt and grizzled as ever. He smiled at his host, and then tried to destroy immediately the effect of the smile. " Well, Judge," cried the Colonel, taking his h md, " I reckon we talked too much yesterday." I \ 1 & ■1 i 170 THE CRISIS « No such thing, Carvel," said the Judge, forcibly. « If vou hadn't left the room, your popular sovereignty would . have been in rags in two minutes." Stephen sat down in a corner, unobserved, in expecta- tion of a renewal. But at this moment Miss Virginia swept into the room, very cool in a pink muslin. " Colonel Carvel," said she, sternly, " I am the doctor's deputy, here. I was told to keep the peace at any cost. And if you answer back, out you go, like that ! " and she snapped her fingers. The Colonel laughed. But the Judge, whose mind was on the argument, continued to mutter defiantly until his eye fell upon Stephen. "Well, sir, well, sir," he said, "you've turned up at last, have you? I send you off with papers for a man, and I get back a piece of yellow paper saying that he's borrowed you. What did he do with you, Mr. Brice ? " " He took me to Freeport, sir, where I listened to the most remarkable speech I ever expect to hear." "What 1 " cried the Judge, "so far from Boston? " Stephen hesitated, uncertain whether to laugh, until he chanced to look at Virginia. She had pursed her lips. " I was very much surprised, sir," he said. "Humph I " grunted Mr. Whipple, "and what did you think of that ruffian, Lincoln ? " "He is the most remarkable man that I have over met, sir," answered Stephen, with emphasif "Humph I" It seemed as if the grunt this time had in it something of approval. Stephen had doubt as to the propriety of discussing Mr. Lincoln there, and he reddened. Vir- ginia's expression bore a trace of defiance, and Mr. Carvel stood with his feet apart, thoughtfully stroking his goatee. But Mr. Whipple seemed to have no scruples. "So you admired Lincoln, Mr. Brice?" he went on. " You must agree with that laudatory estimation of him which I read in the Missouri Democrat." Stephen fidgeted. " I do, sir, most decidedly," he answered. ■y?3iBn»'«pe^;. m m I GLENCOE m I should hardly expect a conservative Bostonian, of tbe class which respects property, to have said that. It might possibly be a good thing if more from your town could hear those debates/' "They will read them, sir; I feel confident of it." At this point the Colonel could contain himself no longer. " I reckon I might tell the man who wrote that Democrat article a few things, if I could find out who he is," said he. ra I said Virginia, warningly. But Stephen had turned a fiery red. " I wrote it. Colonel Carvel," he said. For a dubious instant of silence Colonel Carvel stared. 1 hen — then he slapped his knees, broke into a storm of laughter, and went out of the room. He left Stephen in a moist state of discomfiture. The Judge had bolted upright from the pillows. "You have been neglecting your law, sir," he cried. '1 wrote the article at night," said Stephen, indig- "Then it must have been Sunday night, Mr. Brice." At this point Virginia hid her face in her handkerchief, which trembled visibly. Being a woman, whose ways are unaccountable, the older man took no notice of her. But being a young woman, and a pretty one, Stephen was angry. "I don't see what right you have to ask me that, sir," ne saici. » XT^^^ question is withdrawn, Mr. Brice," said the Judge. Virginia, you may strike it from the records. And now, sir, tell me something about your trip." Virginia departed. An hour later Stephen descended to the veranda, and It WM with apprehension that he discerned Mr. Carvel seated under the vines at the far end. Virginia was perched on the railing. *,»*»«« To Stephen's surprise the Colonel rose, and, coming toward him, laid a kindly hand on his shoulder. " Stephen," said he, " there will be no law until Monday 173 THE CRISIS ii Si I A little rest will do "I should like to very " I won't let the Judge have to go by the two ^k ■ Yon must stay with us until then, you good." Stephen was greatly touched. "Thank you, sir," he said, much. But I can't." " Nonsense," said the Colonel, interfere." "It isn't that, sir. I shall o'clock train, I fear." sat'^sUen^ly^^^^^^ '"'°'^ '" ^^^^^°'^' ^^°' ™«*-while, had !!/'''%" « .f '*^' y^ """^^ contrive to keep him." one slid off the railing. "I'm afraid he is determined, Pa," she answered. ni?. i?f ^T ^'- ^"t"^ ^^"^^ ^^^ t« «ee a little of th; place before he goes. It is very primitive," she explained, not much like yours in the East." Stephen thanked her, and bowed to the Colonel. And so she led him past the low, crooked outbuildings at the t^nn nr?"'^-^" '^"^ old Unde Ben busy over the prepara- tion of his dinner, and frisky Rosetta, his daughter, plav- mg with one of the Colonel's setters. Then V rSnL took a well-worn path, on each side of which the ligh grass bent with its load of seed, which entered the wood. Oaks and hickories and walnuts and persimmons spread lrnunA\^^^' ?^ ^^^"1}^ ^'^^^ *^^«ted fantastically tYn^?. ..^ ^*'''°^'• ,- ^l ^^'' ^^^""^y «««°^«d but a fit set- ting to the strong girlish figure in the pink frock before him. So absorbed wa£ he in contemplation of this, and in won- dering whether indeed she were to mar*^ her coS Clarence Colfax, that he did not see the winders of v ew unrolling in front of him. She stopped at length beside a great patch of wild rose bushel.^ They weS on Jhe edge of the bluff, and in front of theml mTle Ltic summer-house, with seats on its five sides. Here Vir- ginia sat down. But Stephen, going to the ed^e stood and marvelled. Far, far below Wm, down th7wooS steep shot the crystal Meramec, chafing over the TaUow gravel beds and tearing headlong at the deep p^l GLENCOE 173 Beyond, the dimpled green hills rose and ffill «n^ fi, wale? r i°„?n "'"' '"^"- A Crl^\Ter he' . yirginia had taken other youne men here an^ f»,« had looked only upon her. aL ye^t she w^To't offende/ This sincerity now was as new to her as that with J^hfl* he had surprised her in the Judge's room ""^'"^ And she was not quite at her easfi A ,^,.1, * ^i. simple words ot;^ his' was Impossi We" lt"h^Ls°t Tom Catherwood m the same situation she would have Tau^hed^ Clarence never so much as glanced at scenerv Hp; rephe. to him were either flippfnt, or else mX?al, a"to Rti^rp^T'^^^^° Z'^h *^® «^^«* abundance of that vallev ht hi '.l^^'"- ^u°^ ^^*^ ^^^^ ^«°»anly gesture wh S has been the same through the ages she put ap her hand deftly tucking in the stray wisp &hind. ^ ' ^he glanced at the New Englander, against whom shp ut )Z: "hi'rd^r'.f ^° ^^^^^ she'hfd fitt^eerhfm' ms tace, thinned by the summer in town, was of the sternness of the Puritan. Stephen's features wlrTsharDlv marked for his age. The will to conquer wi th^re « justice was in the mouth, and greatness of heart Tnn wirfhT ^"^"^^ T *^« ^'^^^ forehead Tiiee^es' were the blue gray of the flint, kindly yet imoerishaWe The face was not handsome. ^ "nperisnable. heririf^^"?^' *^'''- y^^^l^"^ ^ ^^ ^"P«l«e, Virginia let honored of women, feared by the false. She^w himTn '^?'VhTr""v?!r' r-d, poised evenly rheTa^^n"" abruptly^ ^ ^^ '"^ *^'' afternoon?" she asked He started at the change in her tone. II I,. dli^i 174 THE CRISIS He gave no reaaon. And she was too proud to ask it. T^r^ffi i! ^'t^/^^, ^^^ ^ "'8f« y«"°» «»en to stay. The difficulty had always been to get them to go. It was natural, perhaps, that her vanity was wounded! But It hurt her to think that she had made the overture, had ! I. J ^m"!^®*; whatever it was that set her against him, and had failed through him. " You must find the city attractive. Perhaps," she R(»d"'^' a li"Ie laugh, "perhaps it is Bellefontaine " No," he answered, smiling, " Then " (with a touch of derision), » then it is because you cannot miss an afternoon's work. You are that kind. " " I was not always that kind," he answered. " I did not work at Harvard. But now I have to or — or starve," ne said. ' For the second time his complete simplicity had dis- armed her. He had not appealed to her sympathy, nor had he hinted at the luxury in which he was brought up. fehe would have liked to question Stephen on this former life. But she changed the subject suddenly. "What did you really think of Mr. Lincoln? asked. "I thought him the ugliest man I ever saw, and handsomest as well." " But you admired him ? " " Yes," said Stephen, gravely. I' You believe with him that this government cannot exist half slave and half free. Then a day will come, Mr. Brice, when you and I shall be foreigners one to the other. " You have forgotten," he said eagerly, "you have for- gotten the rest of the quotation. ' I do not expect the Union to be dissolved — I do not expect the house to fall — but cease to be divided.' It will become all one thine or all the other." ^ Virginia laughed. " That seemed to me very equivo- cal, said she. « Your rail-aplitter is well named." " WiU you read the rest of that speech ? " he asked. she the GLENCOE 176 fiem-l^mT""^ ""' y°» ""« -"' '» Spring- heZwere^d. ""'""*"' """"""•'"-"on for Mr. Lincoln," was myself / I don't understand." Virginia puckered her lips. re;Mrn,^:Sen%''''.S:v^X' *\r* ^?" '"''•" '"e No' Wp1I»™!.%. ,y°"™o»' "hat was in that note' lawyer WW ^voi ^e S' ^T ""»?'"* R«P«bIil befo';e a c„rentToS in Vnoia '^''j"f " WV^'^I X '^'^'^ crazy on the subject ever s°n1;_h7?Z '?'t''''°*,'«^*" his sleep; he went to Snr;^l.«fir 5 **"'' ™ Lincoln in him, an§ 'now he cln^t rIS ifti „^ h "^°' *"" ^^ """ and heard him. So he writes a nZ t„™r^*°,*°'' *.■"""■ him to take you to the dX^ -1 " *^ ^""^^ »'«' "^s " BThrtoir'" ,*" ''"«*' »' •"» amazement. "He told voHo «„^H 5°- SPf "»«?'<» !" he exclaimed. wouJdo^^irrdrfsuX".'."?- "^ ""- ««" ^o- you," »id v?J'inU°''"TL''- ^^°"«'" ?°y'"»g "bout has more priiKariti J, „„ V '','\"t^'' **'• «"™- "e city e.eep^ Tr. ^B^ZZ'V'^y 't" 1^i'„n» *« I ll Hmi gj V ^^^^^^B ?j *3 fe" B^ft 1 ''M hbIk^J Ttm 176 THE CBISIS t( Why? "he asked. She did not answer, but sat tapping the seat with, her fingers. And when she ventured to look at him, he had fallen into thought. " I think it must be time for dinner," said Virginia, »♦ if you really wish to catch the train." The coldness in her voice, rather than her words, aroused him. He rose, took one lingering look at the river, and followed her to the house. At dinner, when not talking about his mare, the Colonel was trying to persuade Stephen to remain. Virginia did not join in this, and her father thought the young man's refusal sprang from her lack of cordiality. Colonel Car- vel himself drove to the station. When he returned, he found his daughter sitting idlv on the porch. * ^ "^ " I like that youn^ man, if he is a Yankee," he declared. ** I don't," said Virginia, promptly. _ " Mv dear," said her father, voicing the hospitality of the Carvels, " I am surprised at you. One should never show one's feelings toward a guest. As mistress of this house it was your duty to press him to stay." " He did not want to stay." "Do -ou know why he went, my dear?" asked the Colonel. " No," said Virginia. " I asked him," said the Colonel. " Pa I I did not think it of you I " she cried. And then, " What was it ? " she demanded. " He said that his mother was alone in town, and needed him." Virginia got up without a word, and went into Judge Whipple's room. And there the Colonel found her some hours later, reading aloud from a scrap-book certain speeches of Mr. Lincoln's which Judge Whipple had cut from newspapers. And the Judge, lying back with his eyes half closed, was listening in pure delight. Little did he guess at Virginia's penance ! CHAPTER VII AN EX0UB8I0N of dissolutipo, of L^'^:!:.o^:Snt" '"" "*'" were also to see their country a nowfir in A.« ^ V j ''^ chance the greatest power WhiK!,. the world, Der- the child of the West r^^r-T • Europe had wrangled, sa?fri£^»-^-^x;n^e-':;s" For the seed, sowed in wisdom and self-denial, was 177 ni ifi ' m mi I ! T Jl 178 THE CRISIS bearing fruit. The sound of gathering conventions was in the land, and the Freeport Heresy was not for-' gotten. We shall not mention the number of clients thronging to Mr. Whipple's office to consult Mr. Brice. These things are humiliating. Some of Stephen's income came from articles in the newspapers of that day. What funny newspapers they were, the size of a blanket I No startling headlines such as we see now, but a continued novel among the advertisements on the front page and verses from some gifted lady of the town, signed Jsieetra. And often a story of pure love, but more frequently of ghosts or other eerie phenomena taken from a magazine, or an anecdote of a cat or a chicken. There were letters from citizens who had the mania of print, bulletins of diflferent ages from all parts of the Union, clippings out of day-before-yesterday's newspaper of Chicago or Cincinnati to three-weeks letters from San Francisco, come by the ponv post to Lexington and then down the swift Missouri. Of course, there was news by telegraph, but that was precious as fine gold, — not to be lightly read and cast aside. In the autumn of '59, through the kindness of Mr. Brinsmade, Stephen had gone on a steamboat up the river to a great convention in Iowa. On this excursion was much of St. Louis's bluest blood. He widened his circle of acquaintances, and spent much of his time walking the guards between Miss Anne Brinsmade and Miss Puss Rus- sell. Perhaps it is unfair to these young ladies to repeat what they said about Stephen in the privacy of their state- rooms, gentle Anne remonstrating that they should not gossip, and listening eagerly the while, and laughing at [iss Puss, whose mimicry of Stephen's severe ways brought tears to her eyes. Mr. Clarence Colfax was likewise on the boat, and pass- ing Stephen on the guards, bowed distantly. But once, on the return trip, when Stephen had a writing pad on his knee, the young Southerner came up to him in his frank- est manner and with an expression of th) gray eyes which was not to be withstood. AN EXCURSION 179 fKr t*^'°il ! °^' ^^°*»^" *»« "id- "I hear you are the kind tTuit cannot be idle even on a holiSy^' ^. « Not a. bad a. aU thaC replied Stephen, .filing at fi^,-!^i?^ u .u • , ^® ™*^« a remarkably jrraceful S.^^^i.^^^l^'l ^^°?«^.*- "^ ^" toll, and >,if^ove ments had what might be called a commanding indoSnIe Stephen, while he smiled, could not but admire the i^^^^^ and gesture with which Colfax bade a n^^a npl ? the black to do the errand was amusing enough. Stenhen well knew it had not been such if he waSted a Sndkercfc Stephen said it was not a diary. Mr CoIfRx J^o« i well bred to inquire further; soTe neye" Found'oTth^ fhl*- "*'t''"f.'^"*;°«f *" "^^^^^t o^ the Conyention and the speechmaking for ^he m.ouri Democrat. f»,;n "J.®' T^ ^^^ ttherner, "I want to apologize for hings IVe done to y. and said about you. T fed you he'hesti^^"^^ ^'*" ^^" ^** "^^ -* '' «-^- ' " Ciff ^"ll:td\"e^n ifn^^ fn^u'gt a^' cX^^^ Ca^^lV r^Kr"''"'''"" % °^«f^* ** "»3^ "tele's. Colonel *r^^ \''''^^l occasion of my cousin's birthday ? " « ^®^i ,f*^? Stephen, in surprise. *^ WeU, blurted Clarence, boyishly, "I was r U fn He held out his hand, and Stephen took it warmly didn't TZJT*!?'^ *^'°' ^'' ^«1^»^'" he said, «^and I f^?n«r* ^ ""ff i'H^^".^ against W de^alerVther th^ sTppel 'Z.,^^ ' ^^^ ^-- M- Caryel-'?SS The winning expression died from the face of the other. rii c-fcA 180 THE CRISIS !!5 If He turned ftwftj, and leftning aorois the nil, etared at the high bluffs, red-bronzed by the autumn eun. A wort of miles beyond that precipice was a long low building of stone, surrounded by spreading trees, — tho school for young Udies, celebrated throughout tht* West, where our mothers and grandmothers were taught, — Monticello. Thither Miss Virginia Carvel had gone, some thirty days Hince, for her second winter. Perhaps Stephen guessed the thought in the mind of his companion, for he stared also. The music in the cabin came to an abrupt pause, and only the tumbling of waters through the planks oif the great wheels broke the silence. They were both startled bv laughter at their shoulders. There stood Miss Russell, the picture of merriment, her arm locked in Anne Brinsmade's. "It is the hour when all devout worshippers turn towards the East," she said. " The goddess is enshrined at Monticello." Both yoang men, as they got to their feet, were crimson. Whereupon Miss Russell laughed again. Anne, however, blushed for them. But this was not the first time Miss Russell had gone too far. Young Mr. Colfax, with the excess of manner which was his at such times, excused himself and left abruptly. This to the further embar- rassment of Stephen and Anne, and the keener enjoyment of Miss Russell. " Was I not right, Mr. Brice ? " she demanded. " Why, you are even writing verses to her I " "I scarcely know Miss Carvel," he said, recovering. " And as for writing verse — " " You never did such a thing in your life ! I can well believe it." Miss Russell made a face in the direction Colfax had taken. " He always acts like that when you mention her," she said. " But you are so cruel, Puas," said Anne. " You can't blame him." " Hairpins I " said Miss Russell. AN EXCURSION |g| He remembered his pronouns too late. "My aear, What will Mr. Brice think of us?" Lwten, Mr. Brice," Puss continued, undaunted »I shall teU you some ^oesin. Virginia vas sent ?o Monti- cello, and went withlier /ather to^^Kentucky and PeiX cXx.' " '"™™''' '^*' '^' '^''«^' ^ » Vf'o»» Clarence "Oh, Fuss .'"cried Anna. Miss Russell paid not the slightest heed. fh. i^«^°'»tl?"''^U* "«^*'" «^« ^«°* on- " I should do dc^sTrike th^at ^^^ T fi"t cousins, and the Cdone' t^f 2f.** ? *"? ^°"^ ""^ Clarence. But he isn't ^ aid ficT/*^"*^ i° **^" ^°?^ «««P* ho'«« racing "Sd R^n^Winf^ ^^^- "^ "^^^^^^ *° ^«t drive the ^lack to Snt r.nir'^T*t ^"* ^^ J^^°«^ »»d ^« another had to put a collar and chain on him. He wanted to tro fili bustenng with Walker, and she had to g^ dow^ ?n her" far M war, Mr. Bnce, just look out for him." liut — Anne interposed. ha^' monly^"*''^ ^^^^ ^**" ^"^ ^°'°^ ^ ^^' " *^** ^^*"°<'« "Puss I " cried Anne, outraged. " How dare you I " Miss Russell slipped an arm around her waist. S«n«^r' A*""^' she said, "we mustn't interrupt the Senator any longer. He is prenarinp his maiden speech." That was the way in which ifteph i got his nicLam;. It 18 scarcely necessary to add that^ht, w?ote no more untU he reached his little room in the house on Olive Street in ^h^}^ ^^ ^^*^"' *°d *^« blac^ cloud that hunir in the still autumn air over the city was in sight. It w^ dusk when the Jackson pushed her nose into tSe levee, ILd the song of the negro stevedores rose from below as they !i. 182 THE CRISIS tf;p'*- pulled the gang-plank on to the landing-stage. Stephen stood apart on the hurricane deck, gazing at the dark line of sooty warehouses. How many young men with their way to make have felt the same as ne did after some pleasant excursion. The presence of a tall form beside him shook him from his revery, and he looked up to recognize the benevolent face of Mr. Brinsmade. " Mrs. Brice may be anxious, Stephen, at the late hour," said he. " My carriage is here, and it will give me great pleasure to convey you to your door." Dear Mr. Brinsmade ! He is in heaven now, and knows at last the good he wrought upon earth. Of the many thoughtful charities which Stephen received from him, this one sticks firmest in his remembrance : A stranger, tired and lonely, and apart from the gay young men and women who stepped from the boat, he had been sought out by this gentleman, to whom had been given the divine gift of for- getting none. " Oh, Puss," cried Anne, that evening, for Miss Russell had come to spend the night, " how could you have talked to him so? He scarcely spoke on the way up in the carriage. You have offended him." " Why should I set him upon a pedestal ? " said Puss, with a thread in her mouth ; " why should you all set him upon a pedestal ? He is only a Yankee," said Puss, toss- ing her head, " and not so very wonderful." " I did not say \e was wonderful," replied Anne, with dignity. " But you girls think' him so. Emily and Eugenie and Maude. He had better marry Belle Cluyme. A great man, he may give some decision to that family. Anne I " "Yes." " Shall I tell you a secret ? " " Yes," said Anne. She was human, and she was feminine. "Then — Virginia Carvel is in love with him." " With Mr. Brice I " cried astonished Anne. " She hates him ! " " She thinks she hates him," said Miss Russell, calmly. i^v ^ ':r- <'f-. AN EXCURSION 183 Anne looked up at her companion admirinffly. Her two heroines were Puss and Virginia. Both had the same kind of danM, but in Puss the trait had developed into a somewhat disagreeable outspokenness which made many people dislike her. Her judgments were usually well founded, and her prophecies had so often come to pass that Anne often believed in them for no other reason. " How do you know ? " said Anne, incredulously. "Do you remember that September, a year ago, when we were all out at Glencoe, and Judge Whipple was ill, and Virginia sent us all away and nursed him herself ? " " Yes," said Anne. "And did you know that Mr. Brice had gone out, with letters, when the Judge was better ? " " Yes," said Anne, breatliless. "It was a Saturday afternoon that he left, although they had begged him to stay over Sunday. Virginia had written for me to come back, and I arrived in the eveninjr I asked Easter where Jinny was, and I found her—" " You found her -— ? " said Anne. " Sitting alone in the summer-house over the river. Easter said she had been there for two hours. And f have never known Jinny to be such miserable company as she was that night." ^ "Did she mention Stephen ?" asked Anne. "No." " But you did," said Anne, with conviction. Miss Russell's reply was not as direct as usual. "You know Virginia never confides unless she wants to, she said. Anne considered. " Virginia has scarcely seen him since then," she said. " You know that I was her room-mate at Monticello last year, and I think I should Jiave discovered it." " Did she speak of him ? " demanded Miss Russell. " Only when the subject was mentioned. I heard her repeat once what Judge Whipple told her father of him, — that he had a fine legal mind. He was often in my letters from home, because they have taken Pa's house next JglJ 1-Hilt-' .Jt II! ■ *1 t^ « i I i 11 184 door. THE CBI8IS never d because Pa likes them. I letters to Jinny," said Anne, "but t any desire to hear them." « l\!T^hT^ ^ "^"^^ ^i^y *o^^"* ^°»'" confessed Puss. Did she answer your letter ? " "No," replied Miss Puss, " but that was just before the hohdam you remember. And then the Colonel h^r^ her off to see her Pennsylvania relatives, and I belfe^ gtey went to Annapolis, too, where the Carvels com^ Stephen, sitting in the next house, writini? ant >i,-« account, Me dreamed that he was the' sub ec^ Va co^ ference in the third story front of the Brins-^des'. Later, when the young ladies were asleep, he carx.ed his manu 3 '?H-^'. -TT"' ^^.^^' *^^ delivereS^t intTJhe hands of his friend, t^ie night editor, who was awaiting it Toward the end of that week. Miss Virginia Carve" wm sitting with her back to one of the great^trees at Mo™ I't uX ]!!? %^T'' .^r^^^ «°^^« '^ ^ ^^il« «he tucked It under her cloak and glanced hastUy around. It wa« from Miss Anne Brmsmade. "I have told you all about the excursion, my dear and how we missed you. You may remember" (ahrAnne Mr ^Stenh^'r-' ^° 'I' ^''' "^ ^>' ''y^^ may remfX; Mr. Stephen Brice, whom we used to speak of. Pa and Ma take a great interest in him, and Pa had him invfted on the excursion. He is more serious than ever since Hp hl^'T.' full-fledged lawyer. Bu?he has a d^; humor which comes out when you know him well, of which I did not suspect him. ds mother is the dearest o'^ ni Jhter t^l/^K Sy t-s atTut t people south of Market Street, the G^an^ ^11 he did not know, that Pa was astonished. He toldlll about SidX^hlr' and how they were persecuted at home mL7tt & ' n'"- ^.* ^^ ^^^P^^ed to hear that many of them were University men, and that they were already organizing to defend the Union. I heard¥a^y Mi-xi'^'M'M AN EXCURSION lg5 ;?irii'^^^i^'^„«t^-' ""» "« -"-» - that ea»iyojfrfor°s:f brand's™ ""'i""^"" ""'»• >«■ by far, and wLt S:TS;ed' C pVl^^tht et"- is not the end. i'Lte.^1 !Lk""^ 'i''™ ""^sented- Thia Brice, a new black'akt^ In W ^1^ t T *'"; live I shaU never foreet how ™^t „.'. 1f^ "•''"'» ?» ' she said, 'It is a «iirSr.L t *" ''®'' ™<=« "hen «„4. ^ . surprise from my son. mv Var r a^a not e^ narrowed his ro?.^i ? A^^ M?^?*"? pensioned Mr. Hood. But the Colonel had a will before which, when roused, even Mr. Hopper trembled. So that Eliphalet was always polite to iiphum, and careful never to say anything in the darkey's presence agamst incompetent clerks or favorite customers, who^^by the chanty of the Colonel, remained on hi^ One spring day, after the sober home-coming of Colonel Carvel from the Democratic Convention at Charieston, iLphum accosted his master as he came into the store of a ""^fwl^;. Ephum's face was working with excitement, r.i I ?? i?® °'\^*®'' ^^*h y^"' Ephum?" asked the u V 'tS'^^^^^V V y°" h*^«°'* heen yourself lately." "No, Marsa, I ain't 'zactly." ^ Ephum put down the duster, peered out of the door of ihe private ofl&ce, and closed it softly. pr M it arse Comyn ? ' Yes? "i*«B«JB. f^^iS-r^ lilll <' j!> lii 188 THE CllISIS I se kinder supWtious 'bout him, Marw." The Colonel put down his newspaper. ^?*? he treated youWUy, Ephum ? " he asked quietly. Ihe faithful nagro saw another question in his master's face. He well knew that Colonel Carvel would not descend to ask an inferior concerning the conduct of a superior. ° " Oh ^f^h. And I ain't sayin' nuthin' gin his honesty. He straight, but he powerful sharp, Marse Comyn. An' ne jus mussiless down to a cent." The Colonel sighed. He realized that which was be- yond the grasp of the negro's mind. New and thriftier methods of trade from New England were fast replacing the old open-handedn^ss of the large houses. Competition had begun, and competition is cruel. Edwards, James, & Company had taken a Yankee into the firm. They were now Edwards, James, & Doddington, and Mr. Edwards's coolness towards the Colonel was manifest since the rise Of Ehphalet. They were rivals i.ow instead of friends. But Colonel Carvel did not know untU after years that Mr. Hopper had been offered the place which Mr. Dod- dington filled later. As for Mr. Hopper, increase of salary had not changed him. He stiU lived m the same humble way, in a sinlrle room m the Widow Crane's boarding-house, and he pSid very little more for his board than he had that first week in which he swept out Colonel Carvel's store. He was supermtendent, now, of Mr. Davitt's Sunday School, and a church officer. At night, when he came home from business, he would read the widov's evening paper, and the Colonel s morning paper at the office. Of true Puritan abstemiousness, his only indulgence was chewing tobacco. It was as early as 1859 that the teller of tiie Boatman's Bank began to point out Mr. Hopper's back to casual cus- tomers, and he was more than once seen to enter the presi- dent s room, which had carpet on the floor. EUphalet's suavity with certain delinquent customers from the Southwest was according to Scripture. When FmW _. ^-^mJ^^ THE COLONEL 18 WARNED 189 they were profane, and invited him into the stMnf K« reminded them that the city had a pohTforce i2M' While stiU a young man, he had a manner of f "W h^ W th°e lawH^ ""^'^ ^ P^°^" ^ capitalist he steti concermng mortgages in several different in ^Ki W*^®*^™ T*?°* ^^^ ^ '««»«'» ^ the sphere in which l>rovidence had placed him, and so to fc an example for many of us. 6e did not buy, o^even hi^ ?he d3r'- "«^«Pl.e^ to superintend some^f 1«S M ^ ^n' \^*°f ** Christmas-tirnVbefore Virifinia Th«r^ M*'''?°' k"*^?" '** ^ "«^»1 «° the stair-laXg There Mr. Jacob Cluyme (who had been that dav in conversation with the teller of the Boatmim's fiik? chanced upon him. Mr. Cluyme was so charmed at the f^cihty with which Eliphalet recounted the riT and fall of sugar and cotton and wheat that he invitS Mr Hop^r to dinner. And from this meal may be r^koned Hnn^T appearance of the family of wh^ch El^Set Hopper was the head into polite society. If the Climne household was not polite, it was nothing. Ellphde?^? next to Miss Belle^and heard the private^historrof many old families, which he cherished for future u^ X^ ru^ht^^t^^be^flTrt"^^^^^^ Jacob Cluyme usU There was only one person who really bothered EHpha- te n EH^^n '°? prommence, and that person was Sp- tain Elijah Brent. If, upon entering the ground-elass ?l?w^'ii""''it ^^P^' ^*h«^* *h« Colo^l Captl Lige would walk out again just as if the office weie empt^ OnL^ ^ "'\t^ "J?^^ ^^'"^ addressed always to EphSi. 2f^ ' ""u^A ^l- ."^PP^" h^^ b^d^en him good mornS^ t,?rn £^"t'^* chair toward him, the honest^Captain h^! Ten^^rJ'^K^^'^^^ ^'^^S^' ^ the house on Tenth Street, where he found the Colonel alone at break- >. 1 ^^taia sat down opposite. "Colonel," said he, without an introduction, "I don't Hi 190 THE CBISI8 i like this here buainess of letting Hopper run your store. He's a fish, I teU you." ""''*' ' The Colonel drank his coffee in silence. "Lige," he said gently, »'he's nearly doubled my income. It isn't the old times, when we ad went our own way and kept our old customers year in and year out. You know that." The Captain took a deep draught of the coffee which Jackson had laid before him. "Colonel Carvel,' he said emphatically, "the fellow's a damned rascal, and will ruin you yet if you don't take advice." The Colonel shifted uneasily. "The books show that he's honest, Lige." " Yes," cried Lige, with his fist on the table. " Honest to a mill. But if th«it fellow ever gets on top of you, or any one else, he'll grind you into dmt." "He isn't likely to get on top of me, Lige. I know the business, and keep watch. And now that Jinny's coming home from Monticello, I feel that I can pay more attention to her — kind of take her mother's place," said the Colonel, putting on his felt hat and tipping his chair. "Lige, I want that girl to have every advantage. She ought to go to Europe and see the world. That trip East last sum- mer did her a heap of good. When we were at Calvert House, Dan read her something that my grandfather had written about London, and she was regularly fired. First I must take her to the Eastern Shore to see Carvel Hall. Dan still owns it. Now it's London and Paris." The Captain walked over to the window, and said noth- ing. He did not see the searching gray eyes of his old friend upon him. " Lige I " said the Colonel. The Captain turned. " Lige, why don't you give up steamboating and come along to Europe ? You're not forty yet, and you have a he^ of money laid by." The Captain shook his head with the vigor that char- acterized him. THE COLONEL 18 WARNED IM T *"iT**" H^'* °? *"°® '**' ™® *° *«»▼«»" »»« wid- " Colonel, I tell you there's a storm cfomwi'." The Colonel pulled his goatee uneasily. Here, at last. was a man in whom there was no guile. "Lige," he said, "isn't it about time you got married'" Upon which the Captain shook his head again, even with more vigor. He could not trust himself to speak. After the Christmas holidays he had driven Virginia across the frozen river, aU the way to Monticello, in a fl®*^r 1.. r" °*^^* ^*^®" *^«y ^^ reached the school, tne light of Its many windows casting long streaks on the snow under the trees. He had helped her out, and had taken her hand as she stood on the step. "Be good, Jinny," he had said. "Remember what a short time it will be until June. And your Pa will come over to see you." She had seized him by the buttons of his great coat, and said tearfully : — o -^ " O Captain Lige I I shaU be so lonely when you are aw^. Aren't you going to kiss me? " He had put his Ups to her forehead, driven madly back to Alton, and snent the night. The first thing he id the next day when he reached St. Louis was to go straijrht to the Colonel and tell him bluntly of the circumstance! tJ i?®* ^ ,}^ ^ ^^® ^^^ ^^" ^^' Carvel said ; "but 1 d rather you d marry her than any man I can think of." II i ■M i!^ CHAPTER IX SIGNS OP THE TIMES In that spring of 1860 the time was come for the South to make her final stand. And as the noise of ffatherinff conventions shook the ground, Stephen Brice wm not the only one who thought of the Question at Freeport. The hour was now at hand for it to bear fruit. Meanwhile, his hero, the hewer of rails and forger of homely speech, Abraham Lincoln, had made a little tour eastward the year before, and had startled Cooper Union with a new logic and a new eloquence. They were the same logic and the same eloquence which had startled otephen. Even as he predicted who had given it birth, the Ques- tion destroyed the great Democratic Party. Colonel Carvel travelled to the convention in historic Chai-leston soberly and /««"ng God, as many another Southern gentleman. In old Saint Michael's they knelt to pray fo? harmony, for peace ; for a front bold and undismayed toward those who wronged them. AU through the week chosen orators wrestled m vain. Judge Douglas, you flattered yourself that you had evaded the Question. Do you see the South- ern delegates rising in their seats? Alabama leaves the hall, followed by her sister states. The South has not forgotten your Freeport Heresy. Once she loved you, now she will have none of you. Gloomily, indeed, did Colonel Carvel return home. He D- K fl ?T° ^""^ *^® ^^S ^o' w^ich his grandfather Kichard had fought so bravely. That flag was his inheri- tance. So the Judge, laying his hand upon the knee of his friend, reminded him gravely. But the Colonel shook his head. The very calmness of their argument had been portentous. 192 a.^£&. SIGNS OF THE TIBfES iftj "No, Whipple," said he. "You are a ■traiffhtforward .T; * X- " °^ * ^ifi^^ **• You of the n3 a^I^S upon taking awav from us the rights we had when our fathers ormed tfce Constitution. ^ However the nUeJ got to this country, sir, in your Bristol and Ne\^rt wriLn He ?«tj^ *?«~,^»^«° V^« Constitution wm ffin N^ Ente rndtTVotor?fitT^elS Mf r&h^^.^^^^^^^^^^^ -n the-hr stopJ:d ht^' ^"'"^P''^ *' ^"^''"P^^ ^^' Mr- Carvel "Suppose you deprive me of my few slaves, you do not fnend Samuels, of Louisiana, who depends on the laS of five hundred. Shall I stand by selfishly ^d s^e him ruined, and thousands of others Hike him ? '^ fl.f fS- ""? depressed. Colonel Carvel did not attend the adjourned Convention at Baltimore, which split once more on Mason and Dixon's line. The Democrate of ?he S^^^I^^.'""'***?*^ J^"- ^«"»^^ *»d Johnson, and the ?li« Tv' ^%»°«*^«^ ^»' nominated Breckenridge ^d wi. J^u ^, ^'^i""?' ^°*"^« *^e Colonel's ticket What a Babel of voices was raised that summer ! Each Thln^tV ^''iv''''^'^.^ ^^' ^^t^^^'^ *he extremes of Prn rS ^^PJjWic^n Neyro Worshippers and the South- ern Rights party of BrecSenridge, your conservative had S«nJ^n^l''^ a''^ candidates, -of Judge Douglas or Senator Bell. A most respectable but practically extinct body of gentlemen in ruflied shirts, the Old Line Whjs^ had hkewise met m Baltimore. A new name being nee- sZL'r'Ji ^»^^«l*¥™««lve« Constitutional Unionists. ^T^ 51- ""** ^t?'"" candidate, and they proposed to ^ve the Na ion soothing-syrup. So said Judge Whipple! ^th a grunt of contempt, to Mr. Cluyme, who was then a prominent Constitutional Unionist.' Other and most TrJ^f Ir^^n ^^'^^^t,'^^"^ '■^ Constitutional Unionists, notably Mr. Calvin Brinsmade. Far be it from any oiS I i if 3* ii ft'i ii 194 THE CRISIS to OMt ditretpeot upon the repuUble mmnben of this p^rty , whose broad wings sheltered likewise so many %nik brethren. •^°Sr®"°^*^ evening in May, the Judge was taking tea with Mrs. Brioe. The occasion was memorable for more than one event — which was that he addressed Stephen by his first name for the first time. "You're an p oirer of Abraham Lincoln/' he had said. Stephen, used to Mr. Whipple's ways, smiled quietly at his mother. He had never dared mention to the Judge his suspicions concerning his journey to Springfield and * reeoort. " Stephen," said the Judge (here the surprise came in), "Stephen, what do you think of Mr. Lincoln's chances for the Republican nomination ? " "We hear of no name but Seward's, sir," said Stephen, when he had recovered. The Judge grunted. "Do you think that Lincoln would make a good Presi- dent ? " he added. " I have thour-Ht so, sir, ever since you were good enough to give mt, the opportunity of knowing him." It was a bold speech— -the Judge drew his great eye- brows together, but he spoke to Mrs. Brice. "I'm not as strong as I was once, ma'am," said he. "And yet I am going to that Chicago convention." Mrs. Brice remonstrated mildly, to the eflfect that he had done his share of political work. He scaitjely waited for her to finish. " I shall take a younger man with me, in case anything happens. In fact, ma'am, I had thought of taking your son, if you can spare him." And so it was that Stephen went to that most dramatic of political gatherings, — in the historic Wigwam. It was so that his eyes were opened to the view of the monster which maims the vitality of the Republic, — the political machine. Mr. Seward had brought his machine from ^ew York,— a legion prepared to fill the Wigwam with W v» Ja-j) SIGNS OF THE TIMES 1«5 their bodies, and to drown with their oriee all namet lave that of their master. Stephen indeed had his eyes opened. Throujrh the kindness of Judge Whipple he heard many quiot talks between that ^ntleman and delegates from other sUtes -- 1 ennsylvania and Illinois and Indiana and elsewhere. He perceived that the Judge was no nonentity in this new party. Mr. Whipple sat m his own room, and the dele- gates came and ranged themselves along the bed. Late one night, when the delegates were gone, Stephen ven- tured to speak what was in his mind. " Mr. Lincoln did not strike me as the kind of man, sir. who would permit a bargain." "Mr. Lincoln's at home playing barn-ball," said the Judge, curtly. " He doesn't expect the nomination." "Then, said Stephen, rather hotly, "I think you are unfair to him." ^ You are expectincr the Judge to thunder. Sometimes he liked this kind of speech. "Stephen, I hope that politics may be a little cleaner when you become a delegate," he answered, with just the suspicion of a smile. " Supposing you are convinced that Abra M a Lincoln is the only man who can save the Union, and supposing that the one way to get him nominated is to meet Seward's gang with their own methods, what would you do, sir ? I want a practical proposition, sir," said Mr. Whipple, "one that we can use to-night. It is now one o clock." As Stephen was silent, the Judge advised him to go to bed. And the next morning while Mr. Seward's hench- men, confident and uproarious, were parading the streets of Chicago with their bands and their bunting, the vast Wigwam was quietly filling up with bony Westerners whose ally was none other than the state of Pennsylvania. These gentlemen possessed wind which they had not wasted in processions. And the L' \ delivered Seward and all that was his into their hands. How the light of Mr. Seward's hope went out after the tirst ballot, and how some of the gentlemen attached to 196 THE CRISIS P his person wept ; and how the voices shook the Wigwam, and the thunder of the guns rolled over the tossing waters of the lake, mar • now living remember. That day a name was delivert^ ^o the world through the mouths of political schemers which was destined to enter history 's that of the saviour of the Nation. Down in little Springfield, on a vacant lot near to > station, a tall man in his shirt sleeves was playing barn- ball with some boys. The game finished, he had put on his black coat and was starting homeward under the trees, — when ■, fleet youngster darted after him with a tele- gram. The tall man read it, and continued on his way, his head bent and his feet taking long strides. Later in the day he was met by a friend. "Abe," said the friend, "I'm almighty glad there's somebody in this town's got notorioiis at last.' In the early morning of their return from Chicago, Judge Whipple and Stephen were standing in the front of a ferry-boat crossing the Mississippi. The sun was behind them. The Judge had taken off his hat, and his gray hair was stirred by the river breeze. Illnetis had set a yellow seal on the face, but the younger man remarked it not. For Stephen, staring at the black blur of the city's outline, was filled with a strange exaltation which might have belonged to his Puritan forefathers. Now at length was come his chance to be of use in life, — to dedicate the labor of his hands and of his brains to Abraham Lincoln, uncouth prophet of the West. With all his might he would work to save the city for the man who was the hope of the Union. The bell rang. The great paddles scattered the brown waters with white foam, and the Judge voiced his thoughts. "Stephen," said he, "I guess we'll have to put shoulders to the wheel this summer. If Lincoln is elected, I have > ved my sixty-five years for nothing." As he descended the plank, he laid a hand on Stephen's our not SIGNS OP THE TIMES i^ as wi h slow srps Zv dS7?? blowing oflF her steam pitch of the stS Wonl^^^^^ T1 *^« «*««? the crack of whins r«^X.i\i. • ^'^^^^^ ^'^ ^*>oves and in thVst^'.^tto^T'^ '" ^"^^-^ ""yo" who are here vo;S' Captain L^Tl'^J^l/r/r,"' *t '^""^" I am manager, I callate." ^^ ^JThe Captain's &t was heard to come down on the do:-[mal™''tCcreT"'" "* ""<^ ""«• ' -'«'■' T"" Buf at" i^gj'^f 'rdrr^- ^'f "*"" *» see »« he emerged, returned. ^° ^""PP"' ™ *« 't^I* I^ '"avity "The Colonel will be in any minute .••■ '• ...-j i, have done Tntl^^e'mL^- ^r'^^' "^«" ^^"«^« ^^^etter vote for him, Lige," said the Judge, sitting The Captain smiled at Stephen. A man s got a lot of choice this year " said h« .» t governments, thirtv-three -overnmen^' o^ ^^"^ patched up for a y^r or two » ^ governmeDt t. - Ifl Ids THE CRISIS "Or no government," finished the Judge. "Lige, you're not such a fool as to vote against the Union? " " Judge," saia the Captain, instantly, " I'm not the only one in this town who will hpve to decide whether my gym- pathies are wrong. My tympathiei are with the South." " It's not a question of sympathy. Captain," answered the Judge, drvly. " Abraham Lincoln himself was born in Kentucky.' They had not heard a step without. « Gentlemen, mark my words. If Abraham Lincoln is elected, the South leaves this Union." The Judge started, and looked up. The speaker was Colonel Carvel himself. "Then, sir," Mr. Whipple cried hotly, "then you will be chastised and brought back. For at last we have chosen a man who is strong enough, — who does not fear your fire-eaters, — whose electors depend on Northern votes alone." Stephen rose apprehensively. So did Captain Lige. The Colonel had taken a step forward, and a fire was quick to kindle in his gray eyes. It was as quick to die. Judge Whipple, deathly pale, staggered and fell into Stephen's arms. But it was the Colonel who laid him on the horse- "Silas! "he said, "Silas!" Nor could the two who listened sound the depth of the pathos the Colonel put into those two words. But the Judge had not fainted. And the brusqueness in his weakened voice was even more pathetic — " Tut, tut," said he. " A little heat, and no breakfast." The Colonel already had a bottle of the famous Bourbon in his hand, and Captain Lige brought a glass of muddy iced water. Mr. Carvel made an injudicious mixture of the two, and held it to the lips of his friend. He was pushed away. "Come, Silas," he said. « No ! " cried the Judge, and with this effort he slipped back again. Those who stood there thought that the stamp of death was already on Ju<%e Whipple's face. SIGNS OP THE TIMES 199 But the lips were firmly closed, bidding defiance, as ever, to the world. The Colonel, stroking his goatee, regarded him curiously. "SUas," he said slowly, «'if you won't drink it for me, perfiaps you will drink it — for — Abraham — Lincoln." The two who watched that scene have never forgotten It. Outside, m the great cool store, the rattle of the tracks was heard, and Mr. Hopper giving commands. Within was silence. The straight figure of the Colonel towered above the sofa while he waited. A full minute passed. On.^e Judge Whipple's bony hand opened and shut, and once his features worked. Then, without warn- ing, he sat up. "Colonel," said he, "I reckon I wouldn't be much use to Abe if I took that. But if you'll send Ephum after a cup of coffee — " Mr. Carvel set the glass down. In two strides he had reached the door and given the order. Then he came back and seated himself on the sofa. Stephen found his mother at breakfast. He had for- gotten the convention. He told her what had happened at Mr. Carvel's store, and how the Colonel had tried to persuade Judge Whipple to take the Glencoe house whUe he was in Europe, and how the Judge had refused. Tears were m the widow's eyes when Stephen finished. " And he means to stay here in the heat and go through the campaign ? " she asked. " He says that he will not stir." "It will kill him, Stephen," Mrs. Brice faltered. " So the Colonel told him. And he said that he would die wilhngly— after Abraham Lincoln was elected. He had nothing to live for but to fight for that. He had "i^^^' understood the world, and had quarrelled with it all his life.' ** He said that to Colonel Carvel ? " it Yes." "Stephen!" He ^dn't dare to look at his mother, nor she at him. And when he reached the office, half an horn- later, Mr. 1 T*ra ^XJOKt- II ^1 I i III III I IWi III I MKfl ■ >■ IBMI S doo THE CRISIS -J J Whipple was seated in his chair, defiant and unapproach- able. Stephen sighed as he settled down to hi^ work. 1 he thought of one who might have accomplished what her father could not was in his head. She was at Monti- cello. Some three weeks later Mr. Brinsmade's bugiry drew up at Mrs. Brice'a door. The Brinsmade family had been for some time in the country. And frequently, when that gentleman was detained in town by business, he would stop at the little home for tea. The secret of the good man's visit came out as he sat with them on the front steps afterward. "I fear that it wiU be a hot summer, ma'am," he had said to Mrs. Brice. « You should go to the country." "The heat agrees with me remarkably, Mr. Brinsmade," said the lady, smiling. "I have heard that Colonel Carvel wishes to rent his house at Glencoe," Mr. Brinsmade continued. " The fig- ure IS not high." He mentioned it. And it was, indeed, nominal. "It struck me that a change of air would do you good, Mrs. Brice, and Stephen. Knowing that you h**"^ fi ^^ ^^^ ^easiness concerning Judge Whipple, I He stopped, and looked at her. It was a hard task even for that best and most tactful of gentlemen, Mr. Brinsmade. He too had misjudged this calm woman. « I understand you, Mr. Brinsmade," she said. She saw, as did Stephen, the kindness behind the offer — Colonel Carvel s kindness and his own. The gentleman's benevo- lent face brightened. I'/'i'^u*^' °*^ ^®*^ Madam, do not let the thought of this little house trouble you. It was never my expectation to have it occupied in the summer. If we could induce the Judge to go to Glencoe with you for the summer, I am sure It would be a relief for us all." He did not press the matter, but begged Stephen to call m on him m a day or two, at the bank. « What do you think, Stephen ? " asked his mother, when Mr. Bnnsmade was gone. SIGNS OP THE TIMES 201 Stephen did not reply at once. What, indeed, could he say? The vision of that proud figure of Miss Virginia was before him, and he revolted. What was kindness from Colonel Carvel and Mr. Brinsmade was charity from her. He could not bear the thought of living in a house haunted by her. And yet why should he let his pride and his feelings stand in the way of the health — perhaps of the life — of Judge Whipple ? ^ f It was characteristic of his mother's strength of mind not to mention the subject again that evening. Stephen did not sleep in the hot night. But when he rose in the morning he had made up his mind. After breakfast he went straight to the Colonel's store, and fortunately found Mr. Carvel at his desk, winding up his affairs. The next morning, when the train for the East pulled out of lUinoistown, Miss Jinny Carvel stood on the plat- form tearfully waving good-by to a knot of friends. She was leaving for Europe. Presently she went into the sleeping-car to join the Colonel, who wore a gray linen duster. For a long time she sat gazing at the young corn waving on the prairie, fingering the bunch of June roses on her lap. CJlarence had picked them only a few hours ago, in the dew at Bellegarde. She saw her cousin standing disconsolate under the train sheds, just as she had left him. She pictured him riding out the Belle- fontaine Road that afternoon, alone. Now that the ocean was to be between them, was it love that she felt for Clarence at last ? She glanced at her father. Once or twice she had suspected him of wishing to separate them. Her Aunt Lillian, indeed, had said as much, and Virginia had silenced her. But when she had asked the Colonel to take Clarence to Europe, he had refused. And yet she knew that he had begged Captain Lige to Virginia had been at home but a week. She had seen the change in Clarence and exulted. The very first day she had surprised him on the porch at Bellegarde with " Hardee's tactics." From a boy, Clarence had suddenly ■i' » t i t ' 202 THE CRISIS II ^X SoiSr "^^^ * P"'Po«e' - and that was the Purpose •A^^^l ^*^® 1*^^*^ ^ nominate that dirty Lincoln," he said. "Do you think that we will submit to nigger equal- ity rule ? l^ever ! never I " he cried. « If they ILt him, I wiU stwid and fight them until my legs are shot from under "l-ound » "^^ ^^"^^ '^**'^° ^^^ Yankees from the . Virginia's heart had leaped within her at the words, and into her eyes had flashed once more the look for which the boy had waited and hoped in vain. He had the car- nage of a «)ldier, the animation and endurance of the thoroughbred when roused. He was of the stuff that made the resistance of the South the marvel of the world And well we know, whatever the sound of it, that his speech was not heroics. Nor was it love for his cousin that inspired it, save in this : he had apotheosized Vir- ginia, lo him she was the inspired goddess of the South, — His country. His admiration and affection had of late been laid upon an altar. Her ambition for him he felt WM hkewise the South's ambition for him. His mother, Virginia's aunt, felt this too, and strove against it with her feeble might. She never had had power over her son ; nor over any man, save the temporal power of beauty And to her mortification she found her- dl,!cfl?w^«" •^*'.?-^ ^^'^ P^^ ^^^ "^8^^* ^*^« been her daughter. So in Virgmia's presence she became more trivial and petty than ever. It was her one defence. It nad of course been a foregone conclusion that Clarence should join Company A. Few young men of family did not. And now he ran to his room to don for Virginia that glorious but useless full dress, -the high bearakin hat, the red pigeon-tailed coat, the light blue trousers, and the gorgeous, priceless shackle. Indeed, the boy looked stunning. He held his big rifle like a veteranfand hi feje m 1 set with a high resolve there was no mistaking. Ihe high color of her pride was on the cheek of the Hrl as he brought his piece to the salute of her, his mistress. And yet, when he was gone, and she sat alone amid the '?^\'. SIGNS OP THE TIMES 203 roses awaiting him, came wilfully before her another face that was relentless determination, — the face of Stephen Brice, as he had stood before her in the summer- house at Glencoe. Strive as she might against the thought, deny it to herself aad others, to Virginia Carvel his was become the face of the North. Her patriotism and all that was m her of race rebelled. To conquer that face she would have given her own soul, and Clarence's. Angrily she had arisen and paced the garden walks, and cried out aloud that it was not inflexible. And now, by the car window, looking out over the end- less roll of the prairie, the memory of this was bitter within her. Suddenly she turned to her father. " Did you rent our house at Glencoe ? " she asked. "No, Jinny." "I suppose Mr. Brice was too proud to accept it at your charitable rent, even to save Mr. Whipple's life." The Colonel turned to his daughter in mild surprise. She was leaning back on the seat, her eyes half closed. " Once you dislike a person, Jinny, you never get over It. I always had a fancy for the voung man, and now I have a better opinion of him than ever before. It was I who insulted them by naming that rent." " What did he do ? " Virginia demanded. ' He came to my office yesterday morning. 'Colonel Carvel, raid he, » I hear you wish to rent your house.' I said yes. ' You rented it once before, sir,' said he. ' Yes,' said I. 'May I ask you what price you got for it^' said he." "And what did you say ? " she asked, leaning forward. "I told him," said the Colonel, smiling. "But I explained that I could not expect to command that price now on short notice. He replied that they would pay it, or not consider the place." Virginia turned her head away and stared out over the fields. « How could they afford it ! " she murmured. 'Mr. Brinsmade tells me that young Brice won rather u t ^^Baf*>jiis~'^ acr".Trswr"5«iK»-. ^^^j-aT^^ucT 204 THE CRISIS Heve he deoIii.ed7ome ^rt^f^n ^".'"^P'P*"- ^ **" ferring to remaS atTheC ° *^'*""" P"^*'""- P"" pr^nl^.'" '""^ *" 8™"» "t" "« l>o««?" ri,o „ked the only worr«fhM'lifcKlS .'*'?* '" ™"1^ t* »"'«"■? Colonel Carvel sighed. But Virginia «id nothing. H CHAPTER X i bightbr's scab This vna the summer when Mr. Stephen Brice began to make his appearance in public. The very first was rather encouraging than otherwise, although they were not all so. It was at a little town on the outskirts of the city where those who had come to scoff and jeer remained to listen. •' In writing that speech Stephen had striven to bear in ?'wl^'^''?w !?""'? ""^^^ ^'- ^^"^^l*^ ^»d given him: Speak so that the lowest may understand, and the rest wdl have no trouble." And it had worked. At the haltini? lameneM of the begmninff an egg was thrown, —fortunatel? wide of the mart. After this incident Stephen fairly astonished his audience, — especially an elderly gentleman who sat on a cracker-box in the rear, out of silht of the We'no p' 206 THE CRISIS the man that owned him? "Slavery may stay where it 18, cried the young orator. " If it is content there, so are we content. What we say is that it shaU not go one step farther. No, not one inch into a northern territory." On the next occasion Mr. Brice was one of the orators at a much larger meeting in a garden in South St. Louis. Ihe audience was mostly German. And this was even a happier event, inasmuch as Mr. Brice was able to trace with some skill the history of the Fatherland from the Napoleonic wars to its Revolution. Incidentally he told th6m why they had emigrated to this great and free coun- try. And when in an inspired moment he coupled the names of Abraham Lincoln and Father Jahn, the very leaves of the trees above them trembled at their cheers. And afterwards there was a long-remembered supper in the moonlit grove with Richter and a party of his col- lege friends from Jena. There was Herr Tiefel with the httle Dresden-blue eyes, red and round and jolly; and Hauptmann, long and thin and sallow; and Komer, red- bearded and ponderous ; and Konig, a little clean-cut man with a blond mustache that pointed upward. They clattered their steins on the table and sang wonderful Jena songs, while Stephen was lifted up and his soul carried off to far-away Saxony, — to the clean little Uni- versity town with its towers and crooked streets. And when they sang the Volkmelodie, ^'Bemootter Bursehe zeiK %ch ant, — Ade I " a big tear roiled down the scar on Richter's cheek. " Fahri wohl, ihr Stnusen grad und krumm ! Ich zieh' ntcht mekr in eueh herum, DurchtSn ettch nicht mehr mit Ge$ang, Mil Larm nicht mehr und Sporenklang." As the deep tones died away, the soft night was steeped m the sadness of that farewell song. It was Richter who brought the full force of it home to Stephen. " Do you recall the day you left your Harvard, and vour Boston, my friend ? " he asked. Stephen only nodded. He had never spoken of the RICHTER'S SCAR 207 ^f the dS Z.^SiJ^*^ "■« '!,"'» "' » »'»- P'^e«i„r" i 1 f« 'IK the W." "'°' °" "™^" fi™*. ""» "The foxes?" Stephen interrupted. .we^ VoTteTsrC *'*«''-■'• ^- -» '^-." ««■ .t<^^°'lftLr "tlSl'''^'''" '"'' ."«"• TieH taking „p the ™fJL..n' ™ '«e« comes the empty carriaee with iJl s'2'rhZ^^ttTson''"'jj'ri^it^^^ a^5.,Tr?erer„:- --rr^e^^ ^^'tnZVli^^Pl'" '*^ -P ""> feir n>ng. .lm^r"'m7\L ^'" ""!''■■' ^•^"■""'i'r, salamander, M^^n^tV^^ol^ILrjoKs^peX '^^^T — :. .. .ar" ;;-» at if v:^«u>«s «wiF> J —iW 208 THE CRISIS tance in South St. Louis. In the very midat of their merriment an elderly man whom Stephen recoirnized at one of the German leaders (he afterwards became a United States general) came and stood smiling by the toble and joined in the singing. But presenUy he carried Kichter away with him. " What a patriot he would have made, had our country been spared to us I " exclaimed Herr KSnig. " I think he was the best man with the tchlUger that Jena eyer saw. l!-ven Korner hkes not to stand against him in mask and fencing hat, all padded. Eh, Rudolph ? " Herr Kprner gave a good-natured growl of assent "I have still a welt that he gave me a month since," he said. "He has left his mark on many an aristocrat." "And why did you always fight the aristocrats?" stejphen asked. They all tried to tell him at once, but Tiefel prevailed. ' ?^°*^^® *"ey were for making our country Austrian, my fnend, he cried. " Because they were overbearing, and ground the poor. Because the most of them were immoral hke the French, and we knew that it must be by morality and pure living that our Vaterland was to be res- cued. And so we formed our guilds in opposition to theirs. We swore to live by the standards of the great Jahn, of whom you spoke. We swore to strive for the freedom of tfermany with manlv courage. And when we were not duelling with the nobles, we had »chlUger-houU hmong our- « Broadswords?" exclaimed Stephen, in amazement. /'Jawohl, answered Korner, puffing heavily. The slit in his nose was plain even in the moonlight. "To keep our hands m, as you would say. You Americans are a brave peoDle — without the schlager. But we fought that we mi^ht not become effete." It was then that Stephen ventured to ask a question that had been long burning within him. "See here, Mr. Korner," said he, " how did Richter come by that scar? He always gets red when I mention it. He will never tell me." RICHTER'S SCAR j^ He would not Wive me I w^«\'S" ^'*.'^' S'*^'' ^'•''«''''- time. It waa a famol Ume T^f .^ -f, i!l. ^"'''» »' '»»« :'^Jar said SlXerJ:'''^ "^ ***' "« «"^'' the C;unt"vl'lSL'i'"^NTof " ^^ «^«^ ^^^^^^ «' and all Germany Manv ofnJ^f''T\ ^\ *' «'«"* ^ad, bear to the grave th^Z^k/j^h"' ^\l ^unchenschaft wil went to BonTILt unTve^tv of^tr^'^n"' ^°" ^^^^ach was worahipp^d. When he J^.l'^p"f ^°'^^' ^^«r« he crowds wou d Mthlr f^ 1. T^l to Berlin with his sister, Woden ^Fr^^^'Zl^rn^V^r /I? ^ ^«r« like "there is sometWn^ in W^^Ti' "°'*>™ed Herr Korner, she as Sir as a poplaf It^« «n »fw? ^i'**''' ^^^^^^^^ and ^ "It was in tKar'47 whe^ home to Berlin before his l^t ^.ii// Richter was gone One fine mornini? von k1i wl "^'^'.''^ ^ ««« his father. burg «.te on a"bLi^s't^Ho°^' "h^ iJJ^^ ^^*"^^"- that day that none of th« r?!!^- ?' i>^® l^^^^d openly stand before hfm And krl T'?. ^f "i^^^'^M dare lenge. Before night a?! Berlin ^''J'u ' *?°^. "P ^^^ <^^'^' of tlie young Li3 of f?« t "^ ^^^f^ ^^ ^^^ temerity shame V^t^sa^d we tho lr„ "* ^T^^^'J^J^' To our feared for him "^ ^''^'^ ^"'^ ^°^«d Carl Ukewise " Carl chose for his second Ebhardf * «,«« * Germanian Club at Un» a;« i m, j™*" °^ ^UJ" own Strai,e. And if vou ^iT^U '^ ^'"'^. *" ^^^ ^'•«<« that Richtercame to^i«^ T "I^' ""^C ^^end, I tell you pipe. The placrwal filled ^K^ at daybreak smokin/his ^i*r,.A^,.Aa/ron™e o^^^ °° °^^ «^^« «»d the the trees. Richter wou?d hom" f *^^ '"" ^T^"^ "P ^^^r the surgeon Hrwouldnn^K'''^^ *'?,^ °^ "«' "«^«ven arm, nSr the uaddeS l.rK ^""^ *^^ "'^'^ ^^"nd on his Nothing I So ibhal nTofk-^^' *^ "^^^ ««^«ri°g- ^^?'t£^1^^^ t^ dTviJ^TtSetlrnln^^^^^ 210 THE CRISIS no protection, but was calmly smoking the little short pipe ^jTith a charred bowl, a hush fell upon all. At the siffht of the pipe von Kalbach ground his heel in the tui5? and when the word was given he rushed at Richter like a wild beast. You, my friend, who have never heard the whistle of sharp Mhl&ger cannot know the song which a skilled arm draws from the blade. It was music that morning. You should have seen the noble's mighty strokes— Pnm und Second imd Terz und QuaH. You would have marked how Richter met him at every blow. Von Kalbach never once took his eyes from the blue smoke from the bowl He was terrible in his fury, and I shiver now to think how we of the Burchenachqft trembled when we saw that our champion was driven back a step, and then another. You must know that it is a lastmg disgrace to be forced over one 8 own line. It seemed as if we could not bear the ^§°^' ,^^^ *^®°' ^^^^6 ^6 counted out the last seconds of the half, came a snap like that of a whip's lash,— and the bowl of Richter's pipe lay smouldering on the grass. The noble had cut the stem as clean as it were a sapling twig, and there stood Richter with the piece still clenched in his teeth, his eyes ablaze, and his cheek run- ning blood. He pushed the surgeon away when he came forward with his needles. The Count was smiling as he put up his sword, his friends crowding around him, when Jibhardt cried out that his man could fight the second menmr,— though the wound was three needles long. Then Kalbach cried aloud that he would kill him. But he had not seen Gari's eyes. Something was in them that made us think as we washed the cut. ^ut when we spoke to him he said nothing. Nor could we force the pipe stem from his teeth. *^ ''Donner Schock!'' exclaimed Herr Korner, but rever- ently, «if I hve to a hundred I never hope to see snch a sight 9a that mensur. The word was given. The %chlaqer flew so fMt that we only saw the light and heard the ring alone. Before we of the Burschensehaft knew what had happened the Count von Kalbach was over his line and had flung his gchlager into a great tree, and was striding from _r RICHTER'S SCAR 2II - hk fee/'"^*^ ^' ^^^^ ^''"^ ""** **** *^ streaming down Amid a silence, Herr Korner lifted his irreat mue and emptied it slowly A wind was rising, fearing w!thU laKr^Ti?^'^n^i^*^^^"P«'-*«"toS^^ laughter. The moonlight trembled through the shff in^ eaves. And Stephen was filled with a sens! of the martel^ lous. It was as if this fierce duel, so full of nation^?Z- nificance to a German, had been fought in another exltenc! It was incredible to him that the unassuming lawyer he knew, so whoUy Americanized, had been the^her7of H Strange, indeed, that the striving life of these leSera of a European Revolution had been suddenly cut^'?nite JZ'r. -^^'Z 'r' ^ ^^P^«^ » fl«^h of that world co^ prehension which marks great statesmen. Was it not wTh an7i?\P-^'PTA*V*^ measureless force of patr oSm and high Ideal had been given to this youngest of iT nations, that its high mission might be fulfiUed ? Mws Russell heard of Stephen's speeches. She and her brothers and Jack Brinsmafe used to banter him when hi came a-visitmg in Bellefontaine Road. The time wrnot yet come when neighbor stared coldly upon LighboT when friends of long standing passed each Sther w^ih avS^S looks It was not even a wild dream that^te^J^^h Lincoln would be elected. And so Mr. Jack,^o Sde speeches for Breckinridge in the face of Mr B^- made's Union leanings, laughed at Stephen whenTe came to spend the ni^ht. fle joined fonfes with Puss in making clever fun of tie booby iuteh, which S ephen w^ wise enough to take good-naturedly. But once or S when he met Clarence Colfax at these houses he wL aware of a decided change in the attitude of that your^/enSe! man This troubled him more than he caK !dm t For he hked Clarence, who reminded him of Vii^nia ~ at once a pleasure and a pain. ^ ^^ H. is no harm to admit (for the benefit of the Societv for P«^cbcal Research) 4at Stephen still dr^aSIf ber. He would go about his work abeenUy aU the morn- { N'n i ■••II . j^/ii- . - »• l • JSC' 212 THE CRISIS ing with the dream still in his head, and the girl so vividly near him that he could not believe her to be travelling in England, as Miss Russell said. Puss and Anne were care- ful to keep him mformed as to her whereabouts. Stephen set this down as a most natural supposition on their part that all young men must have an interest in Viririnia Carvel. How needless to add that Virginia in her correspondence never mentioned Stephen, although Puss in her letters took pains to record the fact every time that he addressed a Black Republican meeting. Miss Carvel paid no atten- tion to this part of the communications. Her concern for Judge Whipple Virginia did not hide. Anne wrote of him. How he stood the rigors of that campaign were a mystery to friend and foe alike. CHAPTER XI HOW A PBINCB CAME Who has not heard of the St. Louis Agricultural Fair^ And what memories of its October days the mere mention of It bnngs back to us who knew that hallowed place as children. There was the vast wooden amphitheatre where mad trottang races were run ; where stolid cattle walked past the Chinese pagoda in the middle circle, and shook the blu ribbons on their horns. But it was underneath the tiers of seats (the whole way around the ring) that the chief attractions lay hid. These were the church booths, where fried oysters and sandwiches and cake and white candy and ice-cream were sold by your mothers and sisters for charity. These ladies wore white aprons as they waited on the burly farmers. And toward the close of the day for which they had volunteered they became distracted. Christ Church had a booth, and St. George's; and Dr. Ihayer 8, Unitarian, where Mrs. Brice might be found; aiid Mr. Davitt's, conducted by Mr. Eliphalet Hopper on strictly business principles ; and the Roman Catholic Cathe- dral, where Miss Renault and other young ladies of French descent presided; and Dr. Posthelwaite's, Presbyterian, which we shall come to presently. And others, the whole way around the ring. There is one Fair which old St. Louisans stUl delight to recall, — that of the autumn of 1860. Think for a minute. You will remember that Virginia Carvel came back from Europe, and made quite a stir in a town where all who were worth knowing were intimates. Stephen caught a elimpse of her on the street, received a distant bo\^ and dreamed of her that night. Mr. Eliphalet Hopper, in his Sunday suit, was at the ferry to pay his respects to the 213 l; '• 214 THE CRISIS i Colonel, to offer his services, and to tell him how the busi- ness fared. HU was the first St. Louis face that Virginia saw (Captain Use being in New Orleans), and if she con- versed with Eliphalet on the ferry with more warmth than ever before, there is nothing strange in that. Mr. Hopper rode home with them in the carriage, and walked to Miss Crane's with his heart thumping against his breast, and wild thoughts whirlin|f in his head. The next morning, m Virginia's sunny front room, teara and laughter mingled. There was a present for Eugenie and Anne and Emily and Puss and Maude, and a hearty kiss from the Colonel for each. And more tears and laughter and sighs as Mammy Easter and Rosetta un- packed the English trunks, and with trembling hands and rolhng eyes laid each Parisian gown upon the. bed. But the Fair, the Fair ! 117^* *^® thought of that glorious year my pen fails me. Why mention the dread possibility of the negro-worehipper Lincoln being elected the very next month? Why listen to the rumblings in the South? Pompeii had chariot- races to the mutterings of Vesuvius. St. Louis was in gala garb to greet a Prince. That was the year that Miss Virginia Carvel was given charge of the booth in Dr. Posthelwaite's church,— the booth next one of the great arches through which pranc- ing horses and lowing cattle came. Now who do you ttiink stopped at the booth for a chat with Miss Jinny? Who made her blush as pink as her Pans gown ? Who slipped into her hand the contribution for the church, and refused to take the cream candy she laughingly offered him as an equivalent ? None other than Albert Edward, Prince of Wales, Duke of Saxony, Duke of Cornwall and Rothesay, Earl of Chester and Carrick, Baron Renfrew, and Lord of the Isles. Out of compliment to the Republic which he visited, he bore the simple title of Lord Renfrew. Bitter tears of envy, so it was said, were shed in the other booths. Belle Cluyme made a remark which is best suppressed. Eliphalet Hopper, in Mr. Davitt's HOW A PRINCE CAME 215 booths, stared until his eyes watered. A great throng Mered into the covered way, kept clear for his Royid Highness and suite, and for the prominent gentlemen who accompanied them. And when the Prince was seen to turn to His Grace, the Duke of Newcastle, and the sub- scription was forthcoming, a great cheer shook the build- mg, while Virginia and the young ladies with her bowed and blushed and smiled. Colonel Carvel, who was a Director, laid his hand ptemally on the blue coat of the younff Prince. Reversing all precedent, he presented his Royal Highness to his daughter and to the other young ladies. It was done with the easy grace oi a Southern gentleman. Whereupon Lord Renfrew bowed and smiled too, and stroked his mustache, which was a habit he had, and so fell naturally into the ways of Democracy. Miss Puss Russell, who has another name, and whose haa is now white, will tell you how Virginia carried off the occasion with credit to her country. It is safe to say that the Prince forgot " Silver Heels " and "Royal Oak," although they had been trotted past the Pagoda only that morning for his delectation. He had forgotten his Honor the Mayor, who had held fast to the voung man's arm as the four coal-black horees had pranced through the crowds all the way from Barnum's Hotel to the Fair Grounds. His Royal Highness forgot himself stm further, and had at length withdrawn his hands . m the pockets of his ample pantaloons and thrust his thumbs into his yellow waistcoat. And who shall blame him if Miss Virginia's replies to his sallies enchained him? Not the least impressive of those who stood by, smiling, was the figure of the tall Colonel, his hat off for once, and pnde written on his face. Oh, that his dear wife mi^ht have lived to see this I What was said in that historic interview with a future Sovereign of England, far from his royal palaces, on Democratic sawdust, with an American Beauty across a board counter, was immediately recorded by the Colonel, together with an exact description of his Royal Highness's 216 THE CEISIS Wue coat, and Uffht, flowing pantoloons, and yeUow waiat- coat, and colowa kids; e^n the PrinceThaWt oT SSr Mid that his Grace of Newcastle smiled twice at Miss iws more than two to his credit. But suddenly a 8tr3« thing happened. Miss Virginia in the ver^ m?rl«T^f *^! frotTeKlV'^'^'^^^PP!?- hLI^Ts h'afs 4ed in S. ri Countenance, and were fixed upon a point ^^coZlei^"'^?^''^' *^^ promenade. i£r sentence was completed — with some confusion. Perhaos it la no r^tert^7i;t J^°/"^' ^'^^ mtuit&f quici: romarjcea that he had already remained too lone thii« h:?"Ta! '^^hS:^'*^ ^^ *'^ TV^"^ '' otherwfthou?d FoZJL^'k ^^ "^^ * graceful speech, and a kinrfv Followed by his retinue and the prominent citizens i moved on. And it Vas remarked W keen observere ihat ^n^^^'^ril^" ^v*y°;. ^5^ **^«^ h«ld once mow the ^«t. P ^''•/^ ^rV^"^ ^^ t«lt ^th Colonel Carvel Dear Colonel Carvel! What a true American of the old type you were. You, nor the Mayor, nor the rest S amlfe o i f ''T^ Presence. You saw in him only aa amiabfe and lovable young man, who was to succeed Y«„T """^T' r^ ^^""^^^^ °^ 8overe™s, vSa You, Colonel Carvel were not one to crinfe to rS?' Out of respect for the just and lenient loverei^ S^' mother, you did honor to the Prince. But X ^ not remind him as you might have, that your Lea tors fought for the King at J^arston Moor, anfthatTur C wW I T °°'" ^° ^"^^'^^te of Charies James C But what shaU we say of Mr. Cluyme, and of a few othera Fd?' mI Is^frr^^'*^ *^^ *^ ^ Di«.:toJof tl" frZ\^^^ J^^T?.^"/™® ^'^ <^"^. presented, in prooer fom to his Royal Highness. Her father owned a C?r- age, and had been abroad likewise m Z^aI ^ I bull aa tlift Pftirt««i A J ™**^™- -a« made no such ««« ¥ J? '^olonel. And while the celebrated converaa- taon of which we have spoken was in progress Mr rinlmt Stood back and blushecTfor his coun't^S,' ^nd'^s'Sd • A ^5/ HOW A PRINCE CAME 217 gte*&* "^^ *^" ^"*^^°^«° '' ^' ->y^ -ite who His Royal Highness then proceeded to luncheon which who St hS^ „: "°^* "^^^'^ ^^-^^^- co'Cs^rJ'enfc TnrvJ^ I ^ newspaper an account of it that I cannot forbear to copy. You may believe what he savs or^ot ust ^ you choose : "So interested was his Roy^Hi^ine^^^ ^hhf f ^^'^^"g* t^at he stayed in the ring three and a half hours witnessing these trotting matches He was beef, mutton, and buffalo tongue; beside th?m were Seat jugs of lager beer, rolls of bread and plates of a soft S caBbage cut into tiiin shreds, raw, and m?xed wUh vLeLr We's X^'^nif " ''''' '^''' "°^ mustard spooos,The ste J' .nS f Sf "^-^ ^f"^^ ®*^^°& With serving in their Inf' .? ' **^ *^® *'^ °^ °»*»^e's forks, the slices of S SeslreTto :at""UT''"^^ '' **^^ 4^"^' ^^ *"-' who aesirea to eat. While your correspondent stood looking at the spctacle, the Duke of Newcastle came in anH? sat looking too He was evidently tryLg to A^^e mc^ r^'gumtotrei'r^^ii- ^y}^^^^^^t^^^z:. Z^^v ^ 7 ^^® ^^S^^ *^e'' and cabbage also, I sud- ^L teh TC* *^ ?«^ Y^^k Alderrf en who gav^ rharl!« n^V^""^** ""^^ '^^^'^ °»«°^«^ we love and revere Charles Dickens, was not overkind to us, and saw ou^ faulte rather than our virtues. We were a iatfon TsrZ hoppe«,^d spat tobacco from early morninruntil iK f^^^-A ^^'T« «^ "« undoubtedly did, to our shame be LT^' .;^^l7^?'^ ^^- ^i^kens went dowi^ the Ohio hel?l whnT'%^'?rP^"T^ *>^ *^« ^^^ and women aSd ^tir!?*"' ^J".* ^^t^<'are. bolted through sOent meaL^ and retired within their cabins. Mr. Dickens saw oS I li "?;j~aE-i>3'»'*- .-^^,'iSfi»-^T&'#t 218 THE CRISIS anoestois bowed in a task that had been too ^reat for other blood,— the task of bringing into civilization in the compass of a century a wilderness three thousand miles in /?iu 1/°** J"^®? ^ ^''y*^ Highness came to St. Louis and beheld one hundred thousand people at the Fair we are sure that he knew how recently the ground he stood upon had been conquered from the forest. A strange thing had happened, indeed. For, while the 1 rince lingered in front of the booth of Dr. Posthelwaite's ch^ch and chatted with Virginia, a crowd had gathered without. They stood peering over the barricade into the covered way, proud of the self-possession of their younff countrvwoman. And here, by a twist of fate, Mr. Stephen Bnce found himself perched on a barrel beside his friend Kichter. It was Richter who discovered her first. Himmel ! It is Miss Carvel herself, Stephen," he cried, impatient at the impassive face of his companion. " Look Stephen, look there." ' "Yes," said Stephen, « I see." « Ach ! "exclaimed the disgusted German, « wiU nothing move you? I have seen German princesses that are peasant women beside her. How she carries it off I See, the Prince is laughing I " * Stephen saw, and liorror held him in a tremor. His one thought was of escape. What if she should raise her eyes, and amid those vulgar stares discern his own ? And vet that was within him which told him that she would ioofc up. It was only a question of moments, and then, — and then she would in truth despise him I Wedged He limeT^^ ^^^^^' ^ ™°^® was to be betrayed. Suddenly he rallied, ashamed of his own false shame. Ihis was because of one whom he had known for the short space of a day — whom he was to remember for a lifetime, llie pian he worshipped, and she detested. Abraham Lincoln woidd not have blushed between honest clerks and farmers. Why should Stephen Brice? And what, after all, was this girl to him? He could not tell. Almost the ^-Wk,, HOW A PRINCE CAME 219 first day he had come to St. Louis the threads of their lives had crossed, and since then had crossed many times aeain. always ^th a spark. By the might of generations she was one thing, and he another. They were separated bv a vast and ever-widenin^ breach only to be closed by the blood and bodies of a million of their countrymen. And yet he dreamed of her. Gradufidly, charmed like the simple people about him, btephen became lost in the fascination of the scene. Sud- denly confronted at a booth in a public fair with the heir to the Enghsh throne, who but one of her own kind might have earned it off so well, have been so complete a mistress of herself? Since, save for a heightened color, Virginia gave no sign of excitement. Undismayed, forgetful of the adminng crowd, unconscious of their stares until— untU G JtP'j^i'*"^ ""^ ^^ ^^ *»ad compelled her own. buch had been the prophecy within him. Nor did he wonder because, m that multitude of faces, her eyes had flown so straightly homeward to his. With a rough effort that made an angry stir, Stephen flung the people aside and escaped, the astonished Richter following m his wake. Nor could the honest German dis- suade him from going back to the office for the rest of the day, or discover what had happened. But all through the afternoon that scene was painted on the pages of Stephen's books. The crude booth in the darkened way. The free pose of the girl standing in front of her companions, a blue wisp of autumn sunlight falling at her feet The young Prince laughing at her tallies, and the elderly gentleman smiling with benevolence upon the \'" CHAPTER XII INTO WHICH A POTENTATE COMES Virginia danced with the Prince, « by Special Appoint- ment, at the ball that evening. So ^d her aunt, Mrs. Addwon Colfax. So likewise was Miss Belle Cluyme among those honored and approved. But Virginia wore the most beautiful of her Paris gowns, and seemed a pnncMs to one watching from the gallery. Stephen was sure that his Royal Highness made that particular dance longer than the others. It was decidedly longer than the one ne had with Miss Cluyme, although that younj? lady had declared she was in heaven. Alas, that princes cannot abide with us forever I His Royal Highness bade farewell to St. Louis, and presently that same (Hty of Alton which bore him northward came back again m like royal state, and this time it was in honor of a Democrat potentate. He is an old friend now. Senator and Judge and Presidential Candidate, — Stephen Arnold Doufflas, — father of the doctrine of Local Sovereignty, which he has come to preach. So goes the world. We are no sooner rid of one hero than we are readv for another. "^ Blow, vou bandsmen on the hurricane deck, let the shores echo with your national airs I Let the gay bunt- mg wave in the river breeze! Uniforms flash upon the giards, for no campaign is complete without the military. Here are brave companies of the Douglas Guards, the Hickory Sprouts, and the Little Giants to do honor to the person of their hero. Cannon are booming as he steps into his open carriage that evening on the levee, where the pUes of river freight are covered with people. Trans- parencies are dodging in the darkness. A fresh band stnkes up " Hail Columbia," and the four horses prance 220 INTO WHICH A POTEKTATE COMES 221 away, followed oloaely by the "Independent Broom Rangers." " The shouts for Douglas," remarked a keen observer who was present, "must have penetrated Abra- ham's bosom at Spnngfield." Mr. Jacob Cluyme, who had been a Bell and Everett man until that day, was not the only person of promi- nence converted. After the speech he assured the Judge that he was now undergoing the greatest pleasure of his life in meeting the popular orator, the true representative man of the Great West, the matured statesman, and the able advocate or national principles. And although Mr. Douglas looked as if he had heard something of the kind before, he pressed Mr. Cluvme's hand warmly. So was the author of Popular Sovereignty, " the great Bulwark of American Independence," escorted to the Court House steps, past houses of his stanch supporters, which were illuminated in his honor. Stephen, wedged among the people, remarked that the Judge had lost none of his self-confidence since that day at Fieeport. Who, seeing Uie Democratic candidate smiling and bowing to the audience that blocked the wide square, would guess that the Question troubled him at all, or that he missed the votes of the solid South? How gravely the Judge listened to the eulogy of the prominent citizen, who re- minded him that his work was not yet finished, and that he still waa harnessed to the cause of the people ! And how happy was the choice of that word hamened! The Judge had heard (so he said) with deep emotion the remarks of the chairman. Then followed one of those masterful speeches which wove a spell about those who listened, — which, like the most popular of novels, moved to laughter and to tears, to anger and to pity. Mr. Brice and Mr Richter were not the only Black Republicans who were depressed that night. And they trudged homeward with the wild enthusiasm still ringing in their ears, heavy with the thought that the long, hot campaign of their own Wide- Awakes mi^ht be in vain. They had a grim reproof from Judge Whipple in the morning. f t .S^ 222 THE CBIfllS "So you too, gentlemen, took opium Ust night,'* all he sftid. The dreaded poeaibility of Mr. Lincoln's election did not interfere with the gayeties. The week after the Fair Mr. Clarence Colfax gave a ^at dance at Bellegarde, in honor of his cousin, Virginia, to which Mr. Stephen Brice was not invited. A majority of Company A was were. Virginia would have liked to have had them in uniform. It was at this time that Anne Brinsmade took the notion of having a ball in costume. Virginia, on hear- in|f the news, rode over from Bellegarde, and flinging her reins to Nicodemus ran up to Anne s little dressing-room. " Whom have you invited, Anne ? " she demanded. Anne ran over the long list of their acquaintance, but there was one name she omitted. " Are you sure that that is all ? " asked Viiginia, search- ingly, vrh^n she had finished. Anne looked mystified. "I have invited Stephen Brice, Jinny," she said. " But — " « But ! " cried Virginia. « I knew it. Am I to be con- fronted with that Yankee everywhere I go ? It is always * Stephen Brice,' and he is ushered in wiUi a hvi." Anne was quite overcome hjr this outburst. She had dignity, however, and plenty of it And she was a loyal friend. "You have no right to criticise my guests, Virginia." Virginia, seated on the arm of a chair, tapped her foot on the floor. " Why couldn't things remain as they were ? " she said. " We were so happy before these Yankees came. And they are not content in trying to deprive us of our rights. They must spoil our pleasure, too." "Stephen Brice is a gentleman," answered Anne. " He spoils no one's pleasure, and goes no place that he is not asked." " He has not behaved according to my idea of a gentle^ man, the few times that I have been unfortunate enough to encounter him," Virginia retorted. '.•ms.::^ INTO WHICH A POTENTATE COMES 223 ** You are tbe only one who says so, then." Here the feminine got ' tter of Anne's prudence, and she added : **I saw you "»'•.. with him once. Jinny Carvel, and I am sure you never enjoyed a dance as much in your life." Virginia blushed purple. " Anne Brinsmade ! " she cried. " You may have your ball, and your Yankees, all of them you want. But I shan't come. How I wish I had never seen that horrid Stenhen Brioel Then you would never have insulted me. ' Virginia rose and snatched her riding-whip. This was too much for Anne. She threw her arms around her friend without more ado. " Don't quarrel with me. Jinny," she said tearfully. " I oould^i't bear it. He — Mr. Brice is not coming, I am sure." Virginia disengaged herself. "He is not coming?" "No," said Anne. "You asked me if he was invited. And I was g^ing on to tell you that he could not come." She stopped, and stared at Virginia in bewilderment. That young lady, instead of beaming, had turned her back. She stood nicking her whip at the window, gazing out over the trees, down the slope to the river. Miss Russell might have interpreted these things. Simple Anne I "Why isn't he coming?' said Virginia, at last. " Because he is to be one of the speakers at a big meet- ing that night. Have you seen him since you got home. Jinny ? He is thinner than he was. We are much wor- ried about him, because he has worked so hard this summer." " A Black Republican meeting I " exclaimed Virginia, scornfully ignoring the rest of what was said. " Then I'll come, Anne dear, ' she cried, tripping the length of the room. " I'll come as Titania. Who will you be ? " She cantered off down the drive and out of the gate, leavin'* a very puzzled young woman watching her from tiie wiiidow. But when Virginia reached the forest at the bend of the road, she pulled her horse down to a wtdk. ■^^•a 224 THE CRISIS She bethought herself of the gown which her Uncle Daniel had sent her from Calvert House, and of the pearls. And she determined to go as her grea^grandmother, Dorothy Shades of romance I How many readers will smUe before the rest of this true incident is told? What had happened was this. Miss Anne Brinsmade had dnven to town in her mother's Jenny lAnd a day or two before, and had stopped (as she often did) to pay a call on Mrs. Brice. This lady, as may be guessed, was not given to discussion of her husband's ancestors, nor of her own. But on the walls of the little dining-room hune a Copley and two Stuarts. One of the Stuarts was a full length of an officer in the buff and blue of the Continental Army. And it was this picture which caught Anne's eye that day. * ° "How like Stephen I" she exclaimed. And a^'^-^d- " Only the face is much older. Who is it, Mrs. Brict " " Colonel Wilton Brice, Stephen's grandfather. There 18 a marked look about all the Brices. He was only twenty years of age when the Revolution began. That Eicture was painted much later in life, after Stuart came ack to America, when the Colonel was nearly forty. He had kept his uniform, and his wife persuaded him to be painted in it. "If Stephen would only come as Colonel Wilton Brice I" she cried. " Do you think he would, Mrs. Brice ? " Mrs. Brice laughed, and shook her head. "I am afraid not, Anne," she said. "I have a part of the unifoi-m upstairs, but I could never induce him even to try it on." As she drove from shop to shop that day, Anne reflected that It certainly would not be like Stephen to wear his grandfathers uniform to a ball. But she meant to ask him, at any rate. And she had driven home immediately to wnte her invitations. It was with keen disappointment that she read his note of regret. However, on the very dav of the ball, Anne chanced to be m town again, and caught sight of Stephen pushing his INTO WHICH A POTENTATE COMES 226 way amon^ the Mople on Fourth Street. She waved her SrX *° Nicodemus to pull up at the " We are all so sorry that you are not coming," said she, , impulsively. And there she stopped short. For Anne was a sincere person, and remembered Virginia. " That is I am so son-y," she added, a little hastily. « Stephen, I siw the portrait of your grandfather, and I wanted you to come in his costume. '' Stephen, smiUng down on her, said nothing. And poor Anne, in her fear that he had perceived the shade in her meaning, made another unfortunate remark. " ? ^,^ ^^'^ not a — a Republican — " she said. "A Black Republican," he answered, and laughed at her discomfiture. "What then?" 6 « »•' Anne was very red. "I only meant that if you were not a Republican, there would be no meeting to address that night." "It does not make any difference to you what mv Doli- tocs are, does it? " he asked, a little earnestly. "Oh, Stephen ! " she exclaimed, in gentle reproof. "Some people have discarded me," he said, striving to Sill 1X6 • She wondered whether he meant Virginia, and whether He cared. Still further embarrassed, she said something? which she regretted immediately. " Couldn't you contrive to come ? " He considered. "I will come, after the meeting, if it is not too late," he said at length. " But you must not tell any one." He hfted his hat, and hurried on, leaving Anne in a quandary. She wanted him. But what was she to say to Virginia? Virginia was coming on the condition that he WM not to be there. And Anne was scrupulous. Stephen, too, was almost instantly soriy that he had promised. The Uttle costumer's shop (the only one in the city at that time) had been ransacked for the occa- sion, and nothing was left to fit him. But when he reached home there was a strong smell of camphor in his ♦ . I: ff > 226 THE CRISIS mother 8 room. Colonel Brice's cocked hat and sword and spurs lay on the bed, and presently Hester bronght m the blue coat and buff waistcoat from the kitchen, where she had been pressing them. Stephen must needs yield to his mother's persuasions and try them on — they were more than a passable fit. But there were the breeches and cavalry boots to be thought of, and the ruffled shirt and the powdered wig. So before tea he hurried down to the costumer's again, not quite sure that he was not making a fool of himself, and yet at last suffi- ciently entered into the spirit of the thing. The coat was mended and freshened. And when after tea he dressed in the character, his appearance was so striking that his mother could not refrain from some little admiration. As for Hester, she was in transports. Stephen was human, and youne. But still the frivolity of it all troubled him. He had inherited from Colonel Wilton Brice, the Puritan, other things beside clothes. And he felt in his heart as he walked soberly to the hall that this was no time for fanci iress balls. All intention of going was banished by the time his turn had come to speak. But mark how certain matters are beyond us. Not car^ ing to sit out the meeting on the platform, he made his way down the side of the crowded hall, and ran into (of all people) big Tom Catherwood. As the Southern Rights politics of the Catherwood family were a matter of note in the city, Stephen did not attempt to conceal his astonish- ment. Tom himself was visibly embarrassed. He con- gratulated Stephen on his speech, and volunteered the news that he had come in a spirit of fairness to hear what the intelligent leaders of the Republican party, such as Judge Whipple, had to say. After that he fidgeted. But the sight of him started in Stephen a train of tiiought that closed his ears for once to the Judge's words. He had had before a huge liking for Tom. Now he admired him. for it was no light courage that took one of his position there. And Stephen remembered that Tom was not risk- ing merely the displeasure of his family and his friends, but likewise somethmg of greater value than either. From INTO WHICH A POTENTATE COMES 227 childhood Tom had been the devoted slave of Virginia Carvel, with as little chance of manning her as a man ever had. And now he was endangermg even that little chance. And so Stephen began to think of Virginia, and to won- der what she would wear at Anne's party ; and to specu- late how she would have treated him if he had gone. To speak truth, this last matter had no little weight in his decision to stay away. But we had best leave motives to those whose business and equipment it is to weigh to a grain. Since that agonizing moment when her eyes had met his^ own among the curiously vulgar at the Fair, Stephen's fear of meeting Virginia had grown to the pro- portions of a terror. And yet there she was in his mind, to take possession of it on the slightest occasion. When Jud^ Whipple had finished, Tom rose. He awoke Mr. Brice from a trance. "Stephen," said he, "of course you're going to the Brinsmade's." Stephen shook his head. "Why not?" said Tom, in surprise. "Haven't you a costume ? " " Yes," he answered dubiously. "Why, then, you've got to come with me," says Tom. heartily. "It isn't too late, and they'll want you. I've a buggy, and I'm going to the Russells' to change my clothes. Come along ! " o j Stephen went. t ■ iL n CHAPTER XIII AT MB. BBINSMADE'S GATE The eastern side of the Brinsmade house is almost wholly taken up by the big drawing-room where Anne gave her fancy-dress baU. From the windows might be Men, through the trees in the grounds, the Father of waters below. But the room is gloomy now, that once was gay, and a heavy coat of soot is spread on the porch at the back, where the Upple blossoms still fall thinly in the spring. The huge black town has coiled about the place. The garden still struggles on, but the giants of the forest are dying and dead. Bellefontame Road itself, once the drive of fashion, is no more. Trucks and cars crowd the streets which follow its once rural windings, and gone forever are those comely wooded hills and green pastures, — save in the memory of those who huve been spared to dream. *^ Still the old house stands, begrimed but stately, rebuk- ing the sordid life around it. Still come into it the Brms- mades to marriage and to death. Five and sixty years are gone since Mr. Calvin Brinsmade took his bride there. Ihey sat on the porch in the morning light, harking to the whistle of the quail in the com, and watching the frightened deer scamper across the open. Do you see the bride in her high-waisted gown, and Mr. Calvin in his stock and his blue tail-coat and brass buttons? Old people will tell you of the royal hospitality then, of the famous men and women who promenaded under those Sq5? ??^®™' *"^ *^^ ^°^" ^ *^® game-laden table. In 1836 General Atkinson and his officers thought nothing of the twenty miles from Jefferson Barracks below, nor i!f dancing all night with the Louisville belles, who were Mrs. AT MR. BRINSMADE'S GATE 229 Brinsmade's guests. Thither came Miss Edwards of Ken- tucky, long before she thoueht of taking for rhusband that rude man of the people, Abraham^ Jncoln For e^ners of distinction feU in love with the place with its ^o^r^n'^r'^w '"m^u' "^^ "^^*'««^ ^'^d wrote of itTn the r journa^ Would that many of our countrymen, who think of the West as rough, might have known the quality of the Bnnsmades and their neighbors I H"""^/ oi me fhft'^n?^^ charity, of golden simplicity, was passing on that October night of Anne Brinsmade's W. thos^^ho Wnl'^h"^ •^'r T'^ '^^'^ ^ ^ driven and scattered Shl^ t% "^^ ^^^T^'i *^ ^'^ *<^ Wilson's Creek, or ShUoh, or to be spared for heroes of the Wilderness, sime were to eke out a life of widowhood in poverty Auwe^e to live soberly, chastened by what they had seen A fear a^ht%t^^^^^ "^^^^^^« ^-^ - ^« stT wa^lfLI Mayf '46r' ^® ^"^^^ "^° ^*''' remember this room in J^wi?"?f ?**^®; s^a^tled, turned upon him quickly. HRiH »?Q A/°'' ^t""^ ^^ °*y ^e'y thoughts," he i^ MexicoT" "" ""^^ ''''' ^''' then are -are stiU "And some who came home, Brinsmade, blamed God be<»u8e they had not faUen," said the Colonel. h« l«f?h iS"' "^ ""^^ ^^ ^°°«'" ^« answered; «He nas left a daughter to com .rt you." Unconsciously their eye. ^ught Virginia. In her gown of faded primrose and blue wuh its quaint stays and Ihort sleeves, she seemed to have ca .ght the very air of the decorous centurv to which it belo .ged. She was standing gainst one of tLe pilasters at the side of the room, iS FawT'^'^i?-^^ 2"" "^^'"^ ^^ ^'^y S*»»'P »°d S r John v^\J^''''T''^^ "Idylls" having appeared but the l^Jr^''''^' ^"^^ ^^ ^''^^^ ^ Klaine, a part which waltzing with Daniel Boone (Mr. Clarence Colfax) in 1 , --1 ■ 230 THE GBISIS his Indian buckskins. Eugenie went as Marie Antoinette. Tall Maude Catherwood was most imposing as Rebecca, and her brother George made a towering Friar Tuck. Even little fifteen-year-old Spencer Catherwood, the con- tradiction of the family,, was there. He went as the lieutenant Napoleon, walking about with his hands be- hind his back and his brows thoughtfully contracted. The Indian summer night was mild. It was at the very height of the festivities that Dorothy Carvel and Mr. Daniel Boone were making their way together to the porch when the giant gate-keeper of Kenilworth Castle came stalking up the steps out of the darkness, brandish- ing his club in their faces. Dorothy screamed, and even the doughty Daniel gave back a step. "Tom Catherwood I How dare you? You frightened me nearly to death." " I'm sorry. Jinny, indeed I am," said the giant, re- pentant, and holding her hand in his. " Where have you been ? " demanded Virginia, a little mollified. « What makes you so late ? " "I've been to a Lincoln meeting," said honest Tom, "where I heard a very fine speech from a friend of yours." Virginia tossed her head. " You might have been better employed," said she, and added, with dignity, " I have no friends who speak at Black Republican meetings." "How about Judge Whipple?" said Tom. She stopped. " Did you mean the Judge? " she asked, over her shoulder. "No," said Tom, "I meant — " He got no further. Virginia slipped her arm through Clarence's, and they went off together to the end of the veranda. Poor Tom I He passed on into the gay draw- ing-room, but the zest had been taken out of his antics for that night. "Whom did he mean, Jinnv?" said Clarence, when they were on the seat under the vines. "He meant that Yankee, Stephen Brice," answered ▲T MB. BBIKSMADE'S GATE 231 Virginia, languidly. **I am so tired of hearing about him." " So am I," said Clarence, with a fervor by no means false. "By George, I think he will make a Black Re- publican out of Tom, if he keeps on. Puss and Jack have been talking about him all summer, until I am out of patience. I reckon he has brains. But suppose he has addressed fifty Lincoln meetings, as they say, is that any reason for making much of him ? I should not have him at Bellegarde. I am surprised that Mr. Russell allows him in his house. I can see why Anne likes him." "Why?" "He IS on the Brinsmade charity list." " He is not on their charity list, nor on any other," said Virginia, quickly. " Stephen Brice is the last person who would submit to charity." " And you are the last person whom I supposed would stand up for him," cried her cousin, surprised and nettled. There was an instant's silence. " I want to be fair. Max," she said quietly. " Pa offered them our Glencoe House last summer at a low price, and they insisted on paying what Mr. Edwards ga e five years ago, — or nothing. You know that I detest a Yankee as much as you do," she continued, indignation growing in her voice. " I did not come out here with you to be insulted." With her hand on the rail, she made as if to rise. Clar- ence was perforce mollified. " Don't go, Jinny," he said beseechingly. " I didn't mean to make you angry — " " I can't see why you should always be dragging in this Mr. Brice," she said, almost tearfully. (It will not do to pause now and inquire into Virginia's logic.) " I came out to hear what you had to tell me." " Jinny, I have been made second lieutenant of Com- pany A." " Oh, Max, I am so glad ! I am so proud of you I" "I suppose that you have heard the result of the Octo- ber elections, Jinny." j t '.J 232 THE CRISIS " Pa said something about them to-night," she answered ; " wlnr ? " " It looks now as if there were a chance of the Republi- cans winning," he answered. But it was elation that oau^t his voice, not ffloom. " I ou mean that this white trash Lincoln may be Presi- dent ? " she exclaimed, seizing his arm. "Never! he cried. "The South will not submit to that until everv man who can bear arms is shot down." He paused. The strains of a waltz mingles with talk and laughter floated out of the open window. His voice dropped to a low intensity. "We are getting ready in Company A," he said; "the traitors will be dropped. We are getting ready to fight for Missouri and for the South." The girl felt his excitement, his exaltation. "And if you were not. Max, I should disown you," she whispered. He leaned forward until his face was close to hers. "And now? "he said. " I am ready to work, to starve, to go to prison, to help — " He sank back heavil * into the comer. " Is that all. Jinny ? " " All ? " she repeated. " Oh, if a woman could only do more I " -^ " And is there nothing — for me ? " Virginia straightened. "Are you doing this for a reward?" she demanded. " No," he answered passionately. « You know that I am not. Do you remember when you told me that I was good ior nothing, that I lacked purpose ? " "Yes, Max." "I have the ight it over since," he went on rapidly; " you were right. I cannot work — it is not in me. But I have always felt that I could make a name for myself for you — in the army. I am sure that I could command a regiment. And now the time is coming." She did not answer him, but absently twisted the fringe of his buckskins in her fingers. AT MR. BRINSMABE'S GATE 233 " Ever since I have known what love is I have loved yon. Jinny. It was so when we climbed the cherry trees at Bellegarde. And you loved me then — I know you did. You loved me when I went East to school at the MUitary Institute. But it has not been the same of late," he faltered. « Somethii^ has happened. I felt it first on that day you rode out to Bellegarde when you said that my life was of no use. Jinnv, I don't ask much. I am con- tent to prove myself. War is coming, and we shall have to free ourselves from Yankee insolence. It is what we have both wished for. When I am a creneral, will vou marry me ? " o ^ j For a wavering instant she might have thrown herself into his outstretched arms. Why not, and have done with sickening doubts ? Perhaps her hesitation hung on the very boyishness of his proposal. Perhaps the revelation that she did not then fathom was that he had not devel- oped since those childish days. But even while she held back, came the beat of hoofs on the gravel below them, and one of the Bellegarde servants rode into the light pour- ing through the open door. He called for his master. Clarence muttered his dismay as he followed his cousin to the steps. " What is it ? " asked Virginia, alarmed. " Nothing ; I forgot to sign the deed to the Elleardsville property, and Worington wants it to-night." Cutting short Sambo's explanations, Clarence vaulted on the horse. Virginia was at his stirrup. Leaning over in the saddle, he whispered : '* I'll be back in a quarter of an hour. Willyou wait?" " Yes," she said, so that he barely heard. »»Here?" She nodded. He was away at a gallop, leaving Virginia standing bareheaded to the night, alone. A spring of pity, of Mfection for Clarence suddenly welled up within her. There came again something of her old admiration for a boy, impetuous and lovable, who had tormented and defended her with the same hand. «.jii\jLi',.:': t^E-. ■ 234 THE CRISIS Patriotum, stronger in Virginia than many of ub now can conceive, was on Clarence's side. Ambition was strong in her likewise. Now was ^ae all afire w5th the thought that she, a woman, might by a single word give the South a leader. That word would steady him, for there was no question of her influence. She trembled at the reckless lengths he might go in his dejection, and a memory returned to her of a di»y at Glencoe, before he had gone off to school, when she had refused to drive with him. Colonel Carvel had been away from home. She had pretended not to care. In spite of Ned's be- seechings Clarence had ridden off on a wild thorough- bred colt and had left her to an afternoon of agony. Vividly she recalled his home-coming in the twilight, his coat torn and muddv, a bleeding cut on his forehead, and the colt quivering tame. In those days she had thought of herself unreservedly as meant for him. Dash and courage and generosity had been the beacon lights on her horizon. But now ? Were there not other qualities? Yes, and Clarence should have these, too. She would put them into him. She also had been at fault, and perhaps it was because of her wavering loyalty to him that he had not gained them. Her name spoken within the hall startled Virginia from her reverie, and she began to walk rapidly down the winding drive. A fragment of the air to which they were dancing brought her to a stop. It was the Jenny Lind waltz. And with it came clear and persistent the image she had sought to shut out and failed. As if to escape it now, she fairly ran all the way to the light at the entrance and hid in the magnolias clustered beside the gateway. It was her cousin's name she whispered over and over to herself as she waited, vibrant with a strange excitement. It was as though the very elements might thwart her will. Clarence would be delayed, or they would miss her at the house, and search. It seemed an eternity before she heard the muffled thud of a horse cantering on the clay road. fW'F'^ AT MR. BRIKSMADE'S OATE 235 Virginia stood out in the light fairly between the gate- Cta. Too late she saw the horse rear as the rider flew k in his seat, for she had seized the bridle. The beams from the lamp fell upon a Revolutionary horseman, with cocked hat and swora and high riding-boots. For her his profile was in silhouette, and the bold nose and chin belonged to but one man she knew. He was Stephen Brice. She gave a cry of astonishment and dropped the rein in dismay. Hot shame was surging in her face. Her impulse was to fly, nor could she tell what force it was that stayed her feet. As for Stephen, he stood high in his stirrups and stared down at the girl. She was standing full in the light, — her lashes fallen, her face crimson. But no sound of surprise escaped him because it was she, nor did he won- der at her gown of a gone-bv century. Her words came first, and they were low. She did not address him by name. "I — I thought that you were my cousin," she ■'aid. " What must you think of me I " Stephen was calm. *'I expected it," he answered. She gave a step backward; and raised her frightened 9ye8 to his. " You expected it ? " she faltered. »' I can't say whv," he said quickly, " but it seems to me ds if this had happened before. I know that I am talking nonsense — " Virginia was trembling now. And her answer was not of her own choosing. "It has happened before," she cried. "But where? And when ? " "It may have been in a dream," he answered her, "that I saw you as you stand there by my bridle. I even know the gown you wear." She put her hand to her forehead. Had it been a dream ? And what mystery was it that sent him here this night of all nights? She could not even have said that it was her own voice making reply. 'M 230 THE (CRISIS gon." '* * '"'* """««"•" he "id, .11 wn» of .tr«„geM« -hould not have mentiLd th«. 7?^e» ^"^1 2 She looked up at him rather wildly, fori"'^ I who Stopped you," she Ld ; "I was waiting " For whom ? " The interruption brought remembrance. "wrdidTu?!/?:?"'^'" '*"••"' »-«» fl/^" It was a mad joy that Stephen felt. « oriit ^"^^ "^^^ T *? °°°»« • " ^^ demanded. Oh, why do you ask that ? " she cried « Yon Vnn« I would not have been here had I though you were com 2^fx«lor.-^-:f£r£Z ao;!r-.--rN«ordo^fs^;-^^^ :4ir%' £*-?' i I "TUKV TOLl> HK VOU WKHii NUT COMJNO'" ■jr'T'WffcK:. AT MR. BRINSMADE'S GATE 237 because you believe one thing, and I another. But I assure you that it is mv misfortune rather than my fault that I have not pleased you, — that I have met you only to anger you." He paused, for she did not seem to hear him. She was gazing at the distant lights moving on the river. Had e come one step farther ? — but he did not. Presently she knew that he was speaking again, in the same meas- ured tone. ** Had Miss Brinsmade told me that my presence here would cause you annoyance, I should have stayed away. I hope that you will think nothing of the — the mistake at the gate. You may be sure that I shall not mention it. Good night. Miss Carvel." He lined his hat, mounted his horse, and was gone. She had not even known that he could ride — that was strangely the first thought. The second discovered her- self intent upon the rhythm of his canter as it died south- ward upon the road. There was shame in this, mingled with a thankfulness that he would not meet Clarence. She hurried a few steps toward the house, and stopped again. What shoulcl she say to Clarence now? Wnat could she say to him ? But Clarence was not in her head. Ringing there was her talk with Stephen Brice, as though it were still rapidly going on. His questions and her replies — over and over again. Each trivial incident of an encounter real and yet unreal I His transformation in the uniform, which had seemed so natural. Though she strove to make it so, noth- ing of all this was unbearable now, nor the remembrance of the firm touch of his arm about her ; nor yet again his calling her by her name. Absently she took her way again up the drive, now pausing, now going on, forgetful. First it was alarm she felt when her cousin leaped down at her side, — then dread. ** I thought I should never get back," he cried breath- lessly, as he threw his reins to Sambo. '* I ought not tu have asked you to wait outside. Did it seem long. Jinny ? " She answered something. There was a seat near by, 'j. .^ 238 THE CRISIS under the trees. To lead her to it he seized her hand, but it was limp and cold, and a sudden fear came inlio his voice. "Jinny I" "Yes.'^' She resisted, and he dropped her fingers. She remem- bered long how he stood in the scattered light from the bright windo^^s, a tall, black figure of dismay. She felt the yearning in his eyes. But her own response, warm half an hour since, was lifeless. " Jinny," he said, " what is the matter ? " "Nothing, Max. Only I was very foolish to say I would wait for you." " Then — then you won't *aarry me ? " "Oh, Max," she cried, "it is no time to talk of that now. I feel to-night as if something dreadful were to happen." " Do you mean war ? " he asked. "Yes," she said. "Yes." " But war is what we want," he cried, " what we have prayed for, what we have both been longing for to-night, Jinny. War alone will give us our rights — " He stopped short. Virginia had bowed her head in her hands, and he saw her shoulders shaken by a sob. Clar- ence bent over her in bewilderment and anxiety. " You are not well. Jinny," he said. "I am not well," she answered. "Take me into the house." But when they went in at the door, he saw that her eyes were dry. Those were the days when a dozen young ladies were in the habit of staying all night after a dance in the coun- try ; of long whispered talks (nay, not always whispered) until early morning. And of late breakfasts. Miss Rus- sell had not been the only one who remarked Virginia's long absence with mr cousin ; but Puss found her friend in one of those moods which even she dared not disturb. Accordingly Miss Russell stayed all night with Anne. AT MB. BEINSMADE'S GATE 239 unprofitable discussion as to whether Virginia wereatfalt engaged to her cousin, and in vain queried ovTr a^othT unsolved mvsterv. This mystery was taken up^tth; breakfast table t^e next morning/when Miss C^r^vel sur f^ h^ai7:X^t ^"^ ''' -^'' '-^'^'' ^^^^^^- up after a ball until noon." •' » " ""^ gei Virginia smiled a little nervously. go! MraSl^'' ^^" ^^ ^^^ '"^ '^ *-° -^- ^o- -/'^^'/^""^'"^y' "^y dear," he said. "But I under- got Bet^X''^^^ ^- "^ -"^ '- ^- *^^« '^^^-o" tol^fn"'''' ^^^ ^^^'- "T^-*^ »« --ething I wish "ril drive her in, Pa," said Jack. "You're too old Will you go with me. Jinny ? " ^^* "Of course, Jack." "But you must eat some breakfast. Jinny," said Mrs Brmsmade, glancing anxiously at the girl. ^ «Vi. ^^°^"^*^® P"* **®^° his newspaper. " Where was Stephen Brice last night. Jack ? " he ottin^LL^.^'^™^ ^"^^ "--y *^^'^« " ^k- " Why sir," said Jack, " that's what we can't make out Tom Catherwood, who is always doing queer th^l vmi know went to a Black Repub/can meeting l^tngh' S met Stephen there They came out in Tom's & to the Ru^ellsN and Tom got into his clothes first and^ode norse. But he never got here. At least I can find no one who saw him. Did you, Jinnv 9 » ^" "°** ''^ But Virginia did not raise her eyes from her plate A " Thirm?.trr'''", *""^^ '^^-^"^^ ^™- B""«-ade. mere might have been an accident, Jack," said that lady, with concern. " Send Nicodemus over ti Mr^ Ru^- 'l idl MO THE CRIgIS sell 8 at once to inquire. You know that Mr. Brice it a Northerner, and may not be able to ride." Jack laughed. « He rides like a dragoon, mother," said he. « I don't know where he picked it up." "The reMon i mentioned him," said Mr. Brinsmade, lifting the blanket sheet and adjusting his i^)ectacle8, " was because his name caught my eye in this paper. His speech last niglit at the Library Hall is one o! the few sensible Kepubhcan speeches I have read. I think it very remark- able for a man as young as he." Mr. Brinsmade began to read : " ' While waiting for the speaker of the evening, who was half an hour late, Mr. Tiefel rose in the audience and called loudly for Mr. Brice. Many citizens in the hall were astonished at the cheering which followed the men- tion of this namd. Mr. Brice is a young lawyer with a quiet manner and a determined face, wlw has 8acri6ced much to the Party's cause this summer. He was intro- duced by Judge Whipple, in whose office he is. He had hardly begun to speak before he had the ear of every one m the house. Mr. Brice's persons. 'ty ig prepossessing, his words are spoken Rharply, and lie has a singular em- phasis at times which seems to drive his arguments into the mmds of his hearers. We venture to say that if party orators here and elsewhere were as logiad and temperate as Mr. Brice ; if, like him, they appealed to reason rather than to passion, those bitter and lanM«itable diflferences which threaten our country's peace might be amicably adjusted.' Let me read what he said." But lie was interrupted by the rising of Virginia. A high color was on the girl's face as she said : — " Please excuse me, Mrs. Brinsmade, I must go and tret ready." ** • " But you've eaten nothing, my dear." Virginia did not reply. She was already on the stairs. •' You ought not have read that, Pa," Mr. Jack remon- strated ; "you know that she detests Yankees." CHAPTER XIV THE BREACH BBCOMB8 TOO WIDI Abraham Linooln! biufL^ J^* of Breed's Hill in Charlestown an American SJLI Al°r^ T? «P«^ *« ^« uttermost partToi ^^ fi- ? fu ^^- ^?? ^^'^ "°»° of the storm gatherini? in the South grew suddenly loud and louder. ^'""^""S^ '" UiH^Sl^'^.K"^^ '^^'^ *^^ "^^« in *h« black headlines and Mm Tlf *^^ newspaper, a sense of the miracXuTuJ^n him. There again was the angled, low-ceiled room of^ countnr tavern, reeking with 4d and Cm and^^^oi^ tion ; /or a central figure the man of surp^fng hoiS^HneS" — coatless, tieless, and ve8tle8s,_telliW^a -tor^ inIS -yerlnd in^t^l"'^? ^' ''''' '' ™^^^ "-" st^^st^n^ — yea, and intolerable — to many that this comedian nf A TJ I a. a«gnif:8d by Washington and the Adamsfts s^Xr^^^Z^lT'' ^-^^-had^erruX heels of Republican exultation^ Meni-re Ir^foS^ from Charleston, the storm centre. ThTtS w^ctX Abraham Lincoln got to Washington ? ^ Ufl: "! tu L™*""""^ ^»''^3^ »n December Stephen arrived late at the office to find Richter sitting idle mi his^^ concern graven on his face. ^ *^^*' Dered^^:\",^f f'^c^l no breakfast, Stephen," he whig- pered. "Listen/ Shadrach tells me he has been doinl that since six this morninir. whfin h« „.* hi- n~-- "^ 242 THE CRISIS Stephen liatened, and he heard the Judge pacing and pacing in his room. Presently the door w» flung^open, and tSev saw Mr. Whipple standing in the threshoa stem and dishevelled. Astonishment did not pause here. He came out and sat down in Stephen's chair, striking the newspaper in his hand, and they feared at first that his mind had wandered. " Propitiate I "he cried, "propitiate, propitiate, and aeain propitiate. HowWOLord?*^ Suddenly he tinedXn btephen, who was Irightened. But now his voice was natur^, and he thrust the paper into the young man's lap. "Have you read the President's messaije to Con- ^®S-**'-« ^^ ^®^P °»« ^^ I a°» spared to caU that wobbling Buchanan President. Read it. Read it, sir. You have a legal brain. Perhaps you can teU me why. If a man admite that it is wrong for a state to abandon this Union, he cannot call upon Congress for men and money to bnng her back. No, this weakling lets Floyd stock Uie Southern arsenals. He pays tributi to Barbafy. He IS for bnbing tiiem not to be angnr. Take Cuba from bDwn, says he, and steal the rest of Mexico that the maw of slavery may be filled, and the demon propitiated." They dared not answer him. And so he went back into his room, shutting the door. That day no clients saw him, not even those poor ones dependent on his charity whom he had never before denied. Richter and Stephen took counsel together, and sent Shadrach out for his dinner. rhree weeks ^e<^ '"bere arrived a sparkling Sunday, brougM down the va.. of the Missouri from tLe frozen ^rthwest. The Saturday had been soggy and warm. Thu^day had seen South Carolina leave tS^t UnionS which she was born, amid prayers and the ringing of bells. Tuesday was to be Christmas day. A young fady, who had l^tened to a solemn sermon of Dr. pdthelwkite's shpped out of Church before the prayer werrend^Sid hurned into that deserted i3ortion of the town aboui the Court House where ob week days business held its sway. &he stopped once at the bottom of the grimy flight of steos leading to Judge Whipple's office. At the top she pau^^d THE BREACH BECOMER TOO WIDE 243 thumbed law books UyneX piled 8nl ^°** V^'" hesitating step in this LerJJi^' Then,^aSTf by a^rl^ an™'?"""''' '^' "^^ ""«°'* y°" <^oming to dinner Th!Uk fell tSVel^^f '"" ""'^' ^^ «^^ ^--• you^l;."'^'''" "^^ ^^^'^ »>~^«^y' "I came to get Never before had she known him to turn awav from man or woman, but now Judge WhipDle drew hS^han5^ kerchief from his pocket andlfew K^se Xlen^^^^^^^ woman 8 intuition told her that locked t^t n hU^ieart was what he longed to say, and could not The sh^ black overcoat he wore was on the bed. Virginia nicS It UD and held it out to him, an appeal in her fves ^ He got into it. Then she hanSS Mm ffs^a?' M.n. people walking home from church tLmornLgmarvdleJ as they saw these two on Locust Street together the voun ^ girl supporting the elderly man over theSty^^^^^^^ thec^r^^^ngs. For neighbor had begun to iX'JlSru'po'n Colonel Carvel beheld them from his armchair bv th« «i ting-room window and leaned foiwaid^S a Lrt His hjs moved as he closed his Bible reVerentlv tmi marked h« place. At the foot of the s to he surprised Jackson by waving him aside, for the Cdonel hEf flung open the door and held iut his LdThis fSnd ^ hV^vf it"''""' ^"^"^'^ '^^"' ^^ ^^ own LmbLd vf^.'i^ the Colonel. "Silas, we've missed you." hJSX dont'ri^ftr;^'"^'^* ^'^ ^^^'^ camJ deeply. «he done nght? Could any good come of it all? 1^ firu''"^ "?"• ^ ""1*1 any good c Judge Whipple . j "God knows, SUas. We are human, and we can only try. •' Then Mr. Whipple marched in. It lacked a quarter of an hour of dinner, — a crucial period to tax the resources of any woman. Virginia led the talk, but oh, the pathetic lameness of it. Her own mind was wandering when it should not, and recollections she had tried to strangle had sprunpr up once. more. Only that morning in church slie had hved over again the scene by Mr. Brinsmade's rate, and It was then that a wayward but resistless impulse to eo to the Judge s office had seized her. The thought of the old man lonely and bitter in his room decided her. On her knees she prayed that she might save the bond between him and her father. For the Colonel had been moroHe on bundays, and had taken to reading the Bible, a custom he had not had smce she was a child. In the dining-room Jackson, bomng and smiling, pulled out the Judges chair, and got his customary curt nod as a reward. Virginia carved. "Oh, Uncle Silas," she cried, "I am so glad that we have a wild turkey. And you shall have your side-bone." rhe girl carved deftly, feverishly, talking the while, aided by that most kind and accomplished of hosts, her father In the corner the dreaded skeleton of the subject grinned sardomcally. Were they going to be able to keep it off ' Ihere was to be no help from Judge Whipple, who sat in grim sUence. A man who feels his soul burning is not given to small talk. Virginia alone had ever tSssesse.l the power to make him forget. '* Uncle Silas, I am sure there are some things about our tnp that we never told you. How we saw Napoleon THE BEEACH BECOMES TOO WIDE 246 Ei,l?„t ^"i* 'i"' Empress driving in the Bois, .nd how Eurtnie smiled and Bowed at thi people. I never mw v!r^t.tKt .'" ""' ''■""'" ""• *^« '^'^■ dldn'ut'-^^^A^* "* S^^'^ "'* » ■»»' l»rf in England, n . 1, V /"i '■"*• W« ""»»'' l'«l£ as nice as the Prino. ™ buiitl'H^S^r '» ^nSf^y- •» wi"do,^:;s "If- ^•" "^d the Colonel, smiling. «.„ri^ Countess ww nice to me," Continued the mrl J^ys'^vZ^l^^P ^'- But LoM Jermyn^ii: B'.FS'.?"'' "" 't'oking hU goatee. Jud« a^""'"'" **"* •">"»«• '»»y- J.ck«>n, help the J! hli "^ T'T"''^ drawing a breath. " I'm goinif to te 1 him about that queer club where ny erea^fnd father used to bet with Charles Fox. W^ Sw aTr«t SJ^^tir'"':^ ^t^^ Carvel had been " EngE Ja'^^V^^^^^ ^?^ ^"^ country and for his flajr, Viririnia " ?^nnM "i^l"' "^^^ ^^ «^"°^V spoken until Sien^ "n; lovP Lr ^f *° ''^^ *^^°^ now!when those who should loy^ that country are leaving it in passion." i.«t Tu"^*? \ **®*V ^^«"ce. Virginia did not dare to look at her father. Jut the Colonefsaid, gentry -• "Not m passion, Silas, but in sorrow." ' The Judge tightened his lips. But the effort was b«. yond h,m, and the flood within him broke W "Colonel Caryel," he cried, "Sc^th Ca^na i. ^od! ^'», 246 THE CRISIS i ■I * i She w departing in tin, in order that a fienduh practice may be perpetuated. If her people stopped to think they would know that slavery cannot exUt except by means of this Union. But let this milksop of a President do his worst. We have chosen a man who has the strenjrth to say, ' You $haU not go I * " *^ It was an awful moment. The saving grace of it was that respect and love for her father fflled Virginia's heart. In his just anger Colonel Carvel remembered that he was il 5?**/°** '^^^^ ^ **^^ only of his affection for his old fnend. " To invade a sovereign state, sir, u a crime against the sacred spint of this government," he said. "There is no such thing as a sovereign state, sir," excUimed the Judge, hotly. "I am an American, and not a Missounan. " When the time comes, sir," said the Colonel, with dig- nity, "Missouri will join with her sister sovereign states against oppression." * " Missouri will not secede, sir." « Why not, sir?" demanded the Colonel. " Because, sir, when the worst comes, the Soothing Syrup men wiU rally for the Union. And there are enough lovd people here to keep her straight" "Dutchmen, sirl Hessians I Foreign Republican hire- "°gf» »"•» exclaimed the Colonel, standing up. "We shall drive them like sheep if they oppose us. You are anllmg them now that they may murder your own Wood, when you think the time is ripe." The Colonel did not hear Virginia leave the room, so softiy had she gone. He made a grand figure of a man as he stood up, straight and tall, those gray eyes arkindle at last. But the fire died as quickly as it had flared. Pity had come and quenched it, — pity that an unselfish life of suffering and loneliness should be crowned with these. The Colonel loMfed then to clasp his friend in his arms. Quarrels they imd had by the hundred, never yet a misunderstandiiiif. God had given to SUas Whipple a nature stern and harsh that repeUed all save the charitable few whose gift it was ^"imm- THE BREACH BECOMES TOO WIDE 24: ^aa^yir **»«•«':'»««' •«*^«' Pl«^"'e than b"fn^nS Jmny presente, and tryin' to show 'em gratitude h! took me into his house and cared for me It a time when ih7n"f If a^° V^' ?'t^ ^^""^ ^'^ '^' stevedoi^s- ott^oV^p^tr n:^^^^^^^^^^^ ::i cVdVg'hrf^;?h:v^^h^^^^ *^^" '^^ '^ ^- -^ -^' wJl!!f^'^"i^^.f^*^^^ ^^°^«^^ °° his hickory stick and walked off without a word. For a while Captain iZe '^t^^^^'"''^' Then he slowly climbeS the /tef: CHAPTER XV 'V MUTTERINQS Early in the next year, 1861, — that red year in the Calendar of our history, — several gentlemen met secretly in the dingy counting-room of a prominent citizen to con- sider how the state of Missouri might he saved to the Union. One of these gentlemen was Judge Whipple; another, Mr. Brinsmade ; and another a masterly and fear- less lawyer who afterward became a general, and who shall be mentioned in these pages as the Leader. By his daush and boldness and statesmanlike grasp of a black situation St. Louis was snatched from the very bosom of secession. Alas, that chronicles may not stretch so as to embrace all great men of a time. There is Captain Nathaniel Lyon, — name with the fateful ring. Nathaniel Lyon, with the wild red hair and blue eye, born and bred a soldier, ordered to St. Louis, and become subordinate to a wavering officer of ordnance. Lyon was one who brooked no trifling. He had the face of a man who knows his mind and intention ; the quick speech and action which go with this. Red tape made by the reel to bind him, he broke. Courts-martial liad no terrors for him. He proved the ablest of lieutenants to the strong civilian who was the Leader. Both were the men of the occasion. If God had willed that the South should win, there would have been no occasion. Even as Judge Whipple had said, the time was come for all men to decide. Out of the way, all hopes of com- promises that benumbed Washington. No Constitutional Unionists, no Douglas Democrats, no Republicans now. All must work to save the ship. The speech-making was not done with yet. Partisanship must be overcome, and pa- triotism instilled in its place. One day Steplien Brice saw 260 MUTTERINGS 2ol the Leader cro into Judge Whipple's room, and presently he was sent for. After that he was heard of in various out- of-the-way neighborhoods, exhorting all men to forget their quarrels and uphold the flag. The Leader himself knew not night from day in his toil, — organizing, conciliating, compelling when necessary! Letters passed between him and Springfield. And, after that solemn inauguration, between him and Washington. It was an open secret that the Governor of Missouri held out his arms to Jefferson Davis, just elected President of the new Southern Confederacy. It soon became plain U) the feeblest brain what the Leader and his friends had per- ceived long before, that the Governor intended to use the militia (pureed of Yankee sympathizers) to save the state for the South. The Government Arsenal, with its stores of arms and am- munition, was the prize. This building and its grounds lay to the south of the City, overiooking the river. It was in command of a doubting major of ordnance ; the corps of officers of Jefferaon Barracks hard by was mottled with secession. Trade was still. The Mississippi below was practically closed. In all the South, Pickens and Sumter alone stood stanch to the flag. A general, wearing the uniform of the army of the United States, surrendered the whole state of Texas. The St. Louis Arsenal was next in succession, and the little band of regulars at the Barracks was powerless to save it. What could the Leader and Captain Lyon do without troops? That was the question that rang in Stephen's head, and in the heads of many others. For, if President Lincoln sent troops to St. Louis, that would precipitate the trouble. And the President had other uses for the handful in the army. There came a rain-sodden night when a mysterious mes- sage arrived at the little house in Olive Street. Both anxiety and pride were in Mrs. Brice's eyes as they followed her son out of the door. At Twelfth Street two men were lounging on the comers, each of whom glanced at him list- lessly as he passed. He went up a dark and narrow stair 252 THE CRISIS t\ l! fj into a lighted hall with shrouded windows. Men with sober faces were forming line on the sawdust of the floors. The Leader was there giving military orders in a low voice. That marked the beginning of the aggressive Union move- ment. Stephen, standing apart at the entrance, remarked that many of the men were Germans. Indeed, he spied his friend Tiefel there, and presently Richter came from the ranks to greet him. " My fnend," he said, " you are made second lieutenant of our company, the Black JaegertJ^ " But I have never drilled in my life," said Stephen. "Never mind Come and see the Leader." The Leader, smiling a little, put a vigorous stop to his protestations, and told him to buy a tactics. The next man Stephen saw was l^ig Tom Catherwood, who blushed to the line of his hair as ne returned Stephen's grip. "Tom, what does this mean?" he asked. " Well," said Tom, embarrassed, " a fellow has got to do what he think's right." " And your family? " asked Stephen. A spasm crossed Tom's face. " I reckon they'll disown me, Stephen, when they find it out" Richter walked home as far as Stephen's house. He was to take the Fifth Street car for South St. Louis. And they talked of Tom's courage, and of the broad and secret military organization the Leader had planned that night. But Stephen did not sleep till the dawn. Was he doing right ? Could he afliord to risk his life in the war that was coming, and leave his mother dependent upon charity ? It was shortly after this that Stephen paid his last visit for many a long day upon Miss Puss Russell. It was a Sunday afternoon, and Puss was entertaining, as usual, a whole parlor-full of young men, whose leanings and sym- Eathies Stephen divined while taking off his coat in the all. Then he heard Miss Russell cry : — " I believe that they are drilling those nasty Dutch hire- lings in secret." MUTTERINGS 253 I am sure they are," said George Catherwood. « One of the halls is on Twelfth Street, and they have sentries lasted out so that you can't get near them. Pa has an idea that Tom goes there. And he told him that if he ever got evidence of it, he'd show him the door." "Do you really think that Tom is with the Yankees'" asked Jack Brinsmade. '' Tom's a fool," said George, with emphasis, " but he wn t a coward. He'd just as soon tell Pa to-morrow that he was driUing if the Yankee leaders wished it known." " Virginia will never speak to him again," said Eugenie, in an awed voice. "Pooh!" said Puss, "Tom never had a chance with Jinny. Did he, George? Clarence is in high favor now. Did you ever know any one to change so, since this mili- tary business has begun ? He acts like a colonel. I hear that they are thinking of making him captain of a com- pany of dragoons." " They are," George answered. " And that is the com- pany I intend to join." "Well," began Puss, with her usual recklessness, "it's a good thing for Clarence that all this is happenine. I know somebody else — " re & Poor Stephen in the hall knew not whether to stay or fly An accident decided the question. Emily Russell came down the stairs at that instant and spoke to him. As the two entered the parlor, there was a hush pregnant with many things unsaid. Puss's face was scarlet, but her hand was cold as she held it out to him. For the first time in that house he felt like an intruder. Jack Brinsmade bowed with great ceremony, and took his departure. There was scarcely a distant cordiality in the greeting of the other voung men. And Puss, whose tongue was loosed again, talked rapidly of entertainments to which Stephen either had not been invited, or from which he had stayed away. The rest of the company were almost moodily silent. "^ Profoundly depressed, Stephen sat stmght in the velvet chair, awaiting a seasonable time to bring his visit to a close. L 254 THE CRISIS sli- This was to be the last, then, of his intercourse with a warm- hearted and lovable people. This was to be the end of his friendship with this impetuous and generous girl who had done so much to brighten his life since he had'come to St. Louis. Henceforth this house would be shut to him, and all others save Mr. Brinsmade's. Presently, in one of the intervals of Miss Russell's fever- ish talk, he rose to go. Dusk was gathering, and a deep and ominous silence penetrated like the shadows into the tall room. No words came to him. Impulsively, almost tearfully. Puss put her hand in his. Then she pressed it unexpectedly, so that he had to gulp down a lump that was in his throat. Just then a loud cry was heard from without, the men jumped from their chairs, and something heavy dropped on the carpet. Some ran to the window, others to the door. Directly across the street was the house of Mr. Harmsworth, a noted Union man. One of the third story windows was open, and out of it was pouring a mass of gray wood smoke. George Catherwooa was the first to speak. " I hope it will burn down," he cried. Stephen picked up the object on the floor, which had dropped from his pocket, and handed it to him. It was a revolver. CHAPTER XVI THE GUNS OP tiUMTEB Winter had vanished. Spring was come with a hush Toward a little island set in the blue waters of Charleston harbor anxious eyes were strained. Was the flag still there ? God alone may count the wives and mothers who lis- tened in the still hours of the night for the guns of Sumter One sultry night in April Stephen's mother awoke with fear m her heart, for she had heard them. Hark ! that IS the roar now, faint but sullen. That is the red flash far across the black Southern sky. For in our beds are the terrora and cruelties of life revealed to us. There is a demon to be faced, and fought alone. Mrs. Brice was a brave woman. She walked that nicht with God. ® Stephen, too, awoke. The lightning revealed her as she bent over him. On the wings of memory he flew back to hw childhood in the great Boston house with the rounded front, and he saw the nursery with its high win- dows looking out across the Common. Often in the dark had she come to him thus, her gentle hand passing over him to feel if he were covered. " What is it, mother ? " he said. She said: " Stephen, I am afraid that the war has come." He sat up, blindly. Even he did not guess the aeonv in her heart. ^ "^ " You will have to go, Stephen." It was long before his answer came. "You know that I cannot, mother. We have nothinr left but the little I earn. And if I were — '" He did not nnish the sentence, for he felt her trembling. But she 266 = f\ r 3B6 THE CRISIS said again, with that courage which seems woman's alone : — " Remember Wilton Brice. Stephen — I can get along. I can sew/' It was the hour he had dreaded, stolen suddenly upon him out of the night. How many times had he rehearsed this scene to himself! He, Stephen Brice, who had preached and slaved and drilled for the Union, a renegade to be shunned by friend and foe alike I He had talked for his country, but he would not risk his life for it. He heard them repeating the charge. He saw them passing him silently on the street. Shamefully he remembered the time, five months agone, when he had worn the very uniform of his Revolutionary ancestor. And high above the tier of his accuses he saw one face, and the look of it stung to the very quick of his soul. Before the storm he had fallen asleep in sheer weariness of the struggle, that face shining through the black veil of the darkness. If .le were to march away in the blue of his country (alas, not of hers!) she would respect him for risking life for conviction. If he stayed at home, she would n'^^. understand. It was his plain duty to his mother. And yet he knew that Virginia Carvel and the women like her were ready to follow with bare feet the march of the soldiers of the South. The rain was come now, in a flood. Stephen's mother could not see in the blackness the bitterness on his face. Above the roar of the waters she listened for his voice. " I will not go, mother," he said. " If at length every man is needed, that will be different." " It is for you to decide, my son," she answered. " There are many ways in which you can serve your country here. But remember that you may have to face hard things." "I have had to do that before, mother," he replied calmly. " I cannot leave you dependent upon charity." She went back into her room to pray, for she knew that he had laid his ambition at her feet. It was not until a week later that the dreaded news came. All through the Friday shells had rained on the THE GUNS OF SUMTER 257 little fort while Charleston looked on. No surrender yet. Through a wide land was that numbness which precedes action. Force of habit sent men to their places of busi- ness to sit idle. A prayerful Sunday intervened. Sumter had fallen. South Carolina had shot to bits " flai? she had once revered. ^ * On the Monday came the call of President Lincoln for volunteers. Missouri was asked for her quota. The out- raged reply of her governor ^.ent back, — never would she turnish troops to invade her sister states. Little did (tov- ^i7?u Vt°^^®° *o^esee that Missouri was to stand fifth of all the Union in the number of men she was to give To her was credited in the end even more men than stanch Massachusetts. The noise of preparation was in the city — in the land. On the Monday morning, when Stephen went wearily to the office, he was met by Richter at the top of the stairs, who seized his shoulders and looked into his face. The light of the zealot was on Richter's own. " We shall drill every night now, my friend, until further orders. It is the Leader's word. Until we go to the front, Stephen, to put down rebellion." Stephen sank into a chair, and bowed hU head. What would he think, — this man who had fought and suffered and renounced his native land for his convictions? Who in this nobler allegiance was ready to die for them? How was he to confiss to Kichter, of all men? "Carl," he said at length, «I — I cannot go." 1 " ^°",~ r^. ^^"°°* S° ? You who have done so much already! And why?" Stephen did not answer. But Richter, suddenly divin- ing, laid his hands impulsively on Stephen's shoulders. "AcA, I see," he said. "Stephen, I have saved some money. It shall be for your mother while you are away." A* first Stephen was too surprised for speech. Then, m spite of his feelings, he stared at the German with a new appreciation of his character. Then he could merely shake its head. "^ " Is it not for the Union ? " implored Richter. " I would ?* 258 THE CRIS18 give a fortune, if I had it. Ah, my friend, that would please me so. And I do not need the money now. I have — nobody." Spring was in the air ; the first faint smell of verdure wafted across the river on the wind. Stephen turned to the open window, tears of intense agonv in his eyes. In that instant he saw the regiment marcning, and the flag flying at its head. " It is my duty to stay here, Carl," he said brokenly. Richter tool": an appealing step toward him and stopped. He realized that with this young New Englander a oeci- sion once made was unalterable. In all Lis knowledge of Stephen he never remembered him to change. With the demonstrative sympathy of his race, he yearned to comfort him, and knew not how. Two hundred years of Puritanism had reared barriers not to be broken down. At the end of the office the stern figure of the Judge appeared. " Mr. Brice I " he said sharply. Stephen followed him into the littered room behind the ground glass door, scarce knowing what to expect, — and scarce caring, as on that first day he had gone in there. Mr. Whipple himself closed the door, and then the tran- som. Stephen felt those keen eyes searching him fron. their hiding-place. " Mr. Brice," he said at last, " the President has called for seventy-five thousand volunteers to crush this rebel- lion. They will go, and be swallowed up, and more will go to fill their places. Mr. Brice, pec pie will tell you that t^ , war will be over in ninety days. But I tell you, sir, iuat it will not be over in seven times ninety days." He brought down his fist heavily upon the table. " This, sir, will be a war to the death. One side or the other will fight until their blood is all let, and until their homes are all ruins." He darted at Stephen one look from under those fierce eyebrows. " Do you intend to go, sir ? " Stephen met the look squarely. " No, sir, he answered, steadily, " not now." *' Humph," said the Judge. Then he began what THE GUNS OF SUMTER 0-9 desk. At lencrth he drew out a letter, put on his soec tac es and re J t and finally nut it do^S agaTn. ^" Stephen," said Mr. Whipple, " you are doing a cour- in this world, we must not expect to escape peraecution sir. Two weeks ago," he continued slowl?! "two weeks' tfe^i'n^fonV;^''^^"^ ""'' ^^"^^^^ about^.atte.Tet "He remembers me ! " cried Stephen, .n Jnn •'.V^&?,T^^«d ^l^ttle. " Ur. Lincoln never forgets ««nl ^°\^T !?'^'*''« *« *^« Republican party, and sends you his kindest regards." ^ ^ This was the first and only time that Mr. Whipple spoke to him of his labors. Stephen has often laughed atThis arhkSlr^h ^V'.^'^"""^^ "°.* ^«^« hearf of th m a all had not the Judge's sense of duty compelled him to convey the message. And it was with a lighter l?eart than he had felt for many a day that he went out of the fhfr^'^^^^.T.^*^''.^!® regiments were mustered into Land oron' *\" ^^^""^ ^***"^- '^^« Leader was in coi^ Terence of nffl^°^ "» response to his appeals, despite the S^^n CftnL^n mV^W'' '*°^' *^« President had SSouri.^ Nathamel Lyon supreme command in lined fct^^f *™.T^ '^? ^°^^' j"«""? «'«^d that Zll^ i? iJr®,*^ r^ *^® regiments marched past. Here were the Black Jaegers. l?o wonder the crowd laughed Their step was not as steady, nor their files as straight as Companv A. There was Richter, his nead high his I'^^thaTnV. 'f*- ^i f-^^''^ "^ ^i"^« Ti^f^l "^-ehing lnnU\ h^i %ii i^'';5^ lieutenant that Stephen himseS should have filled. Here was another company, and at athe'rh'i f' ^'^'Z?'^^' ^'^ ''^^"^ Cathe^wood H^* father had disowned him the day before. His two Wothers^ George and little Spencer,^were in a houL not lar away, — a house from which a strange flag drooped. 11 . 1 260 THE CRISIS Clouds were lowering over the city, and big drops fall- inir as Stephen threaded his way homeward, the damp and gloom of the weather in his very soul. He went pa«t the house where the strange flag hung against its staff. In that big city it flaunted all unchallenged. Ihe house was thrown wde open that day, and in its windows lounffed young men of honored families. And while they ioked of Ge-man boorishness and Yankee cowardice they held rifles across their knees to avenge any insult to the strange banner that they had set up. In the hall, through the open doorway, the mouth of a shotted field gun could be seen. The guardians were the Minute itf^n, organ- ized to maintain the honor and digniLy of the state of Across the street from the house was gathered a knot of curious people, and among these Stephen paused. Two vounff men were standing on the steps, and one was Clar- ence Colfax. His hands were in his pockets, and a care- less, scornful smile was on his face when he glanced down into the street. Stephen caught that smile. Anger swept over him in a hot flame, as at the slave auction years aeone. That was the unquenchable fire of the war. lUe bload throbbed in his temples as his feet obeyed, — and vet he stopped. , - . j. ±x^ What right had he to pull down that flag, to die on the pavement before that house? mi •otM CHAPTER XVII CAMP JACKSON ^i^^tl M*^"1?J?,''V^^* ?"«*y M«°at'i« Guards. Yes, this is Secession Day, this Monday. And the colors are the Stars and StripS and the Arms of Missouri crossed. What are they waiting for? Why don't they move? Hark I A clatter and a cloud of dust by the market place, an ecstasy of cheers running in waves the length of the crowd. Make way for the dragoons ! Here they come at last, four and four, the horses prancing and dancinjr and pointinc: quivering ears at the tossing sea of nats and para- sols and ribbons. Maude Catherwood squeezes Virghiia's arm. Ihere, nding in front, erect and firm in the iSddle, IS Captam Clarence Colfax. Virginia is red and white 261 i ~t!!V '1^1 km^ 262 THE CEI8IS and red again,— true colors of the Confederacy. How proud she was of him now! How ashamed that she ever doubted him I Oh, that was his true calling, a soldiers life. In that moment she saw him at the head of armies from the South, driving the Yankee hordes northward and still northward until the roar of the lakes warns them of annihilation. She saw his chivalry sparing them. Yes, this is Secession Monday. Down to a trot they slow, Clarence's black thorough- bred arching his long neck, proud as his master of the squadron which follows, four and four. The square young man of bone and sinew in the first four, whose horse is built like a Crusader's, is George Catherwood. And Eugenie gives a cry and points to the rear where Maurice is nding. v ir i • Whose will be the Arsenal now ? Can the Yankee regi- ments with their slouchy Dutchmen hope to capture it? If there are any Yankees in Twelfth Street that day, they are silent. Yes, there are some. And there are some — even in the ranks of this Militia — who will fight for the Union. These are sad indeed. There is another wait, the companies standing at ease. Some of the dragoons dismount, but not the handsome 5'oung captain, who rides straight to the bright group which has caught his eye. Colonel Carvel wrings his gauntleted hand. " Clarence, we are proud of you, sir," he says. And Virginia repeats his words, her eyes sparkling, her fingers caressing the silken curve of Jefferson's neck. " Clarence, you will drive Captain Lyon and his Hessians into the river." "Hush, Jinny," he answered, "we are merely going into camp to learn to drill, that we may be ready to de- fend the state when the time comes." Virginia laughed. " I had forgotten," she said. " You will ha^"5 your cousin court-martialed, my dear," said the Colonel. Just then the call is sounded. But he must, needs press Virginia's hand first, and allow admiring Maude and Eu- CAMP JACKSON 263 gdnie to press his. Then he goes o£f at a slow cauter to join his dragoons, waving his glove at them, and turn- ing to ^ye the sharp order, « Attention ! " to his squadron. Virginia is delinously happy. Once more she has swept from her heart every vestige of doubt. Now is Clarence the man she can admire. Chosen unanimously captain of the Squadron but a few days since, Clarence had taken command like a veteran. George Catherwood and Maunce had told the story. And now at last the city is to shake oflf the dust of the North. "On to Camp Jackson I" was -the cry. The bands are started, the general and staff begin to move, and the column swin|p into the Olive Street road, followed by a concourse of citizens awheel and afoot, the horse cars crowded. Virgmia and Maude and the Colonel in the Carvel carnage, and behind Ned, on the box, is their lun- cheon ma hamper. Standing up, the girls can just see the nodduig plumes of the dragoons far to the front. Olive Street, now paved with hot granite and disfigured by trolley wires, was a country road then. Green trees y^i uiJu . M^f ^'^^y^ed rows of houses and stores, and little "bob-tail yellow cars were drawn by plodding mules to an mclosure in a timbered valley, surrounded by a board fence, known as Lindell Grove. It was then a resort, a picnic ground, what is now covered by close resi- dences which have long shown the wear of time. Into Lindell Grove flocked the crowd, the rich and the poor, the proprietor and the salesmen, to watch th*^ soldiers pitch their tente under the spreading trees. The gallant draeoons were off to the west, across a little stream which tnckled through the grounds. By the side of it Virginia and Maude, enchanted, beheld Captain Colfax shouting his orders while his troopers dragged the canvas from the wagons, and staggered under it to the line. Alas I that the girls were there I The Captain lost his temper, his troopers, perspiring over Gordian knots in the ropes, uttered strange soldier oaths, while the mad wind which blew that day played a hundred pranks. To the discomfiture of the young ladies. Colonel Carvel i "■ I Ijfi !|F1 264 THE CRISIS pulled his goatee and guffawed. Virginia was for moving away. "How mean, Pa," she said indignantly. "How can you expect them to do it right the first ^y, and in this wind?^ " Oh, Jinny, look at Maurice I " exclaimed Maude, gig- gling. " He is pulled over on his head." The Colonel roared. And the gentlemen and ladies who were standing by laughed, too. Virginia did not laugh. It was all too serious for her. " You will see that they can fight," she said. " They can beat the Yankees and Dutch." This speech made the Colonel glance around him. Then he smiled, — in response to other smiles. "My dear," he said- "you must remember that this is a peaceable camp of instruction of the state militia. There fly the Stars a' Stripes from the general's tent. Do you see that the> ? s above the state flag? Jinny, you forget yourself." Jinny stamped her foot. " Oh, I hate dissimulation," she cried. " Why can't we say outright that we are going to run that detestable Captain Lyon and his Yankees and Hessians out of the Arsenal ? " "Why not. Colonel Carvel?" cried Maude. She had forgotten that one of her brothers was with the Yankees and Hessians. "Why aren't women made generals and governors?" said the Colonel. " If we were," answered Virginia, " son*. .g might be accomplished." "Isn't Clarence enough of a fire-eater to suit you?" asked her father. / But the tents were pitched, and at that moment the young Captain was seen to hand over his horse to an orderly, and to come toward them. He was followed by Gteorge Catherwood. " Come, Jinny," cried her cousin, " let us go over to the main camp." CAMP JACKSON 265 "And walk on Davis Avenue," said Virginia, flushing with pnde. "Isn't there a Davis Avenue?" "Yes, and a Lee Avenue, and a Beauregarde Avenue," said George, taking his sister's arm. "We shall walk in them all," said Virginia. What a scene of animation it was! "Die rustling trees and ttie young grass of early May, and the two hundred and forty tents in lines of military precision. Up and down the grassy streets flowed the promenade, proud fathers and mothers, and sweethearts and sisters and wives in gala dress. Wear your bright gowns now, you devoted women. The day is coming when you will make them over and over again, or tear them to lint, to stanch the blood of these young men who wear their new gray so Every afternoon Vin^inia drove with her father and her aunt to Camp Jackson. All the fashion and beautv of tje oity were there. The bands played, the black coachmen flecked the backs of their shining horses, and walking in the avenues or seated under the trees were natty young gentlemen in white trousers and brass-but- toned jackets. AU was not soldier fare at the regimental messes. Cakes and jellies and even ices and more sub- stantial damties were laid beneath those tents. Dress parade was one long sigh of delight. Better not to have been born than to have been a young man in St. Louis, early in Camp Jackson week, and not be a militiaman. One young man whom we know, however, had little of pomp and vanity about him, — none other than the young manager (some whispered "silent partner") of Carvel & Company. If Mr. Eliphalet had had political ambition, or political leanings, during the half-year which had just passed, he had not shown them. Mr. Cluyme (no mean business man himself) had pronounced Eliphalet a conservative young gentleman who attended to his own affairs and let the mad country take care of itself. This IS precisely the wise course Mr. Hopper chose. Seeing a regiment of Missouri Volunteera slouching down Fifth Street in citizens' clothes, he had been remarked to smUe I i m rij ■ Sj.si 266 THE CRISIS oynioally. But he kept his opinions so close that he was supposed not to have any. On Thursday of Camp Jackson week, an event occurred in Mr. Carvel s store which excited a buzz of comment. Mr. Hopper announced to Mr. Barbo, the book-keeper, that he should not be there after four o'clock. To be sure, times were more than dull. The Colonel that morn- ing had read over some two dozen letters from Texas and the Southwest, tellinfr of the impossibility of meeting cer- tain obligations in the present state of the country. The Colonel had gone home to dinner with his brow furrowed. On the other hand, Mr. Hopper's equanimity was spoken of at the widow's table. At four o'clock, Mr. Hopper took an Olive Street car, tucking himself into the far comer where he would not be disturbed by any ladies who might enter. In the course of an hour or so, he alighted at the western gate of the camp on the Olive Street road. Refreshing himself with a little tobacco, he let himself be carried leisurely by the crowd between the rows of tents. A philosophy of his own (which many men before and since have adopted) permitted him to stare with a superior good nature at the open love-making around him. He imagined his own figure, — which was already gi. »ving a little stout, — in a light gray jacket and duck trousers, and laughed. Eliphalet was not burdened with illusions of that kind. These heroes might have their hero-worship. Life held something dearer for him. As he was sauntering toward a deserced seat at the foot of a tree, it so chanced that he was overtaken by Mr. Cluyme and his daughter Belle. Only that morning, this gentleman, in glancing through the real estate column of is newspaper, had fallen upon a deed of sale which made him wink. He reminded his wife that Mr. Hopper had not been to supper of late. So now Mr. Cluyme held out his hand with more than common cordiality. When Mr. Hopper took it, the fingers did not close any too tightly over his own. But it may be well to remark that Mr. Hopper himself did not do any squeezing. He took off CAMP JACKSON 267 his hat grudgingly to Miss Belle. He had never liked the custom. "I hoj^ you will take pot luck with us soon again, Mr. Hopper, said the elder gentleman. "We only have plain and simple things, but they are wholesome, sir. Dainties are poor things to work on. I told that to his Royal Hieh- ness when he was here last faU. He was speaking to me on the merits of roast beef— " " It's a fine day," said Mr. Hopper. "So it is," Mr. Cluyme assented. Letting his eaze wander over the camp, he added casuaUy : «I gee that they have got a few mortars and howitzers since yester- day I suppose that is the stuff we heard so much about, which came on the Swon marked * marble.' They say Jeff Davis sent the stuff to 'em from the Government arsenal the Secesh captured at Baton Rouge. They're pretty near ready to move on our arsenal now." Mr. Hopper listened with composure. He was not greatly interested in this matter which had stirred the city to the quick. Neither had Mr. Cluyme spoken as one who was deeply moved. Just then, as if to spai-e the pains of a reply, a "Jenny Lind" passed them. Miss iseue recognized the carriage immediately as belondnff to an elderly lady who was well known in St. iSuis ^very day she drove out, dressed in black bombazine, and heavily veiled. But she was blind. As the mother-in-law of the stalwart Union leader of the city. Miss Belle's com- ment about her appearance in Camp Jackson was not out of place. "Well!" she exclaimed, "I'd like to know what she's doing here! Mr. Hopper's answer revealed a keenness which, in the course of a few days, engendered in Mr. Cluyme as lusty a respect as he was capable of. "I don't know," said EUphalet; "but I cal'late she's got stouter. "^^**i° y°^ ^^^ ^y that?" Miss Belle demanded, la " S* ^^^^ principles must be healthy," said he, and m 268 THE CRISIS Miss Cluyme was prevented from following up this enigma. The appearance of two people on Davis Avenue drove the veiled lady from her mind. Eliphalet, too, had seen them. One was the tall young Captain of Dragoons, in cavalry hoots, and the other a young lady with dark brown hair, in a lawn dress. " Just look at them ! " cried Miss Belle. " They think ' they are alone in the garden of Eden. Virginia didn't use to care for him. But since he's a captain, and has got a uniform, she's come round pretty quick. I'm thankful I never had any silly notions about uniforms." She glanced at Eliphalet, to find that his eyes were fixed on the approaching couple. "Clarence is handsome, but worthless," she continued in her sprightly way. "I believe Jinny will be fool enough to marry him. Do you think she's so very pretty, Mr. Hopper?" Mr. Hopper lied. " Neither do I," Miss Belle assented. And upon that, greatly to the astonishment of Eliphalet, she left him and ran towards them. " Virginia ! " she cried; " Jinny, I have something so interesting to tell you. ! " Virrinia turned impatiently. The look she bestowed upon Miss Cluyme was not one of welcome, but Belle was not sensitive. Putting h«»r arm through Virginia's, she sauntered off with the 'air toward the parade grounds, Clarence maintaining now a distance of three feet, and not caring to hide his annoyance. Eliphalet's eyes smouldered, following the three until they were lost in the crowd. That expression of Vir- ginia's had reminded him of a time, years gone, when she had come into the store on her return from Kentucky, and had ordered him to tell her father of her arrival. He had smarted then. And Eliphalet was not the sort to get over smarts. "A beautiful young lady," remarked Mr. Cluyme. "And a deserving one, Mr. Hopper. Now, she is my notion of auality. She has wealth, and manners, and looks. And her father is a good man. Too bad he holds CAMP JACKSON 269 Buch views on secession. I have always thought, sir, that vou were singularly fortunate in your connection with There was a point of light now in each of Mr. Hopper's green eyes. But Mr. Cluyme continued : — " What a pitv, I say, that he should run the risk of crip pling himself by his opinions. Times are getting hard?' " Yes," said Mr. Hopper. " And southwestern notes are not worth the paper thev are written on — " *- r j X ?.V*^';^l"y°»®^as misjudged his man. If he had come to Ehphalet for information of Colonel Carvel's affairs, or of any one else's affairs, he was not likely to get it. It is not meet to repeat here the long business convereation which followed. Suffice it to say that Mr. Cluyme, who was in dry goods himself, was as ignorant when he left Eliphalet as when he met him. But he had a greater respect than ever for the shrewdness of the business manager of Carvel & Company. in.******* That same Thursday, when the first families of the city were whispering iubilantly in each other's ears of the safe amv^of the artillery and stands of arms at Camp Jackson, something of significance was happening within the green inclosure of the walls of the United States arsenal, &r to the southward. The days had become alike in sadness to Stephen. Richter gone, and the Judge often away in mysterious conference, he was left for hours at a spell the sole tenant of the office. Fortunately there was work of Richter's and of Mr. Whipple's left undone that kept him busy. This Thursday morning, however, he found the Judge getting mto that best black coat which he wore on occasions. His manner had recently lost much of its gruffness. "Stephen," said he, " they are serving out cartridges and uniforms to the regiments at the arsenal. Would you like to go down with me ? " " Doe.9 that mean Camp Jackson ? " asked Stephen, when they had reached the street I iM. iffl 270 THE CRISIS *' Captain Lyon U not the man to sit stiU and let the Governor take the first trick, sir," said the Judse. As they got on the Fifth Street oar, Stephen^ attention was at once attracted to a gentleman who sat in a comer, with his children about him. He was lean, and he had a face of great keenness and animation. He had no sooner spied Judge Whipple than he beckoned to him with a kind of military abruptness. " That is Major William T. Sherman," said the Jud^e to Stephen. " He used to be in the army, and fought m the Mexican War. He came here two months ago to be the President of this Fifth Street car line." They crossed over to him, the Judge introducing Stephen to Major Sherman, who looked at him very hard, and then decided to bestow on him a vigorous nod. " Well, Whipple," he said, " this nation is goinsr to the devil, eh?" Stephen could not resist a smile. For it was a bold man who expressed radical opinions (provided they were not Southern opinions) in a St. Louis street car earlv in'6L ^ The Judge shook his head. **We may pull out," he said. "Pull out I" exclaimed Mr. Sherman. "Who's man enough in Washington to shake his fist in a rebel's face ? Our leniency — our timidity — has paralyzed us, sir." By this time those in the car began to manifest consid- erable interest in the conversation. Major Sherman paid them no attention, and the Judge, once launched in an argument, forgot his surroundiDgs. " I have faith in Mr. Lincoln. He is calling out volun- teers." "Seventy-five thou:.jmd for three months!" said the Major, vehemently, "a bucketful on a conflagration! I tell you, Whipple, we'll need all the water we've got in the North." The Judge expressed his belief in this, and also that Mr. Lincoln would draw all the water before he got through. CAMP JACKSON 271 Now%«7m!°^\'*'? Mr. Sherman, "I'm disgusted. fn7u- ? *u*T *^ *^P ®"- The loneer we let 'em rear and kick, the harder to break 'em You dnn'f n.f«l going back to the army for nJeTm^^^' ^\Z ml ^^/''•^FV" ?^"«™ntee n>e three years ^-hr?* more h£e it'^ Turning to Stephen, he added "Don'J you si^n any three months' contract, young man." Nnr ^,1 •. ^ had offered to quarrel with the Major Nor did It seem likely that any one would. ^ " 1 m afraid I can't go, sir." ;; Why not?;' demanded Mr. Sherman. awidow'^nd'th; t^ '^' '^"^^"' """t^y' "^« mother's fnT^n« nf mt ' ^ ^"""^ . »\°»«°ey- He was a Her ^nant «?? 2r ?^*r «,c«"Panies before the call came." m Major looked at Stephen, and his expression .hanged. "Find It pretty hard ? " he asked. ^ «n5?JS ^ expression must have satisfied him, but he nodded agam, more vigorously than before. you 1st '^°'' ""'*'' ^'- ^"'''" ^" ^^- "I* ^o'^'t hurt tall*'^ Wn^'^v ^^- ^"i ^" *^°P«^ *« ^»" «"t ot the a!;^;i,. * V ^"^ discomfiture, the Major gave him another of those queer looks. His whole maSIr, and SrElljahXT"' ""^"'^' «*«P^- «*-^«l^ «'^a^ sp:4"r:\Can^^elTraVTallT^^^ °^^ ^^^ ^^^ "Yes, sir," said the Judge. " He is " gr^ffi^en^:^''' ^^^ ^"* *^ ^"^ -P"^«-»^' -^ " WeU, sir," he said, "I have yet to read a more sen- sible speech, except some of Abiham Lincoln'^ Brinl made gave it to me to read. Whipple, that speech reminded me of Lincoln. It was his style Wherfdid y°^ /?* '\ M'- Brice ? " he demanded. ^ 1 heard Mr. Lincoln's debate with Judge Dourias at t^til If 979 THE CRISIS *'I admire your {ranknen, sir/* he laicl **I meant to say that its logic rather than ita iubsta*' i reminded me of Lincoln.*' ** I tried to learn what I could from him, Major Sher- man. At length the car stepped, and they passed into the Arsenal grounds. Drawn up in lines on the green grass were four regiments, all at last in the blue of their coun- try's service. Old soldiers with baskets of cartridges were stepping from file to file, giving handfuls to the recruits. Many of these thrust them in theirpockets, for there were not enough belts to go around. Toe men were standing at ease, and as Stephen saw them laughing and joking lightheartedly his depression returned. It was driven away again by Major Sherman's vivacious comments. For suddenly Captain Lyon, the man of the hour, came into view. **■ Look at him I " cried the Major, ** he's a man after mj own heart. Just look at him running about with his hair flying in the wind, and the papers bulging from his pockets. Not dignified, eh, Whipple? But this isn't the time to be dignified. If there were some like Lyon in Washington, our troops would be halfway to New Orleans by this time. Don't talk to me of Washington! Just lookathiml" The gallatit Captain was a si^ht, indeed, and vividly described by Major Sherman's picturesque words as he raced from regiment to re^ment, and from company to company, with his sandy hair awry, pointing, gesticulating, commanding. In him Stephen recognized we force that had swept aside stubborn army veterans of wavering faith, that snapped the tape with which they had tied him. Would he be duped by the Governor's ruse of establish- ing a State Camp at this time ? Stephen, as he gazed at him, was sure that he would not. This man could see to the bottom, through every specious argument. Little matters of law and precedence did not trouble him. Nor did he believe elderly men in authority when they told him gravely that the state troops were there for peace* CAMP JACKSON 273 "To Camp Jackson?" asked Stephen. Rioter shrugged his shoulders. '■••f»l i ■« i CHAPTER XVin THB STONE THAT IS BBJBOTED That Friday morning Stephen awoke betimes with a sense that something was to happen. For a few moments he lay still in the half comprehension which comes after sleep, when suddenly he remembered yesterday's incidents at the Arsenal, and leaped out of bed. "I think that Lyon is going to attack Camp Jackson to^ "lase "He must be a bold man," murmured Mre. Brice. do\l^?" the — the Rebellion can be put "Not with seventy-five thousand men, nor with ten times that number. her'hIndShSf ^'' '^^^ '"^^^^^ "^^^ ^^ ^^^ -^^ said' *™ ^"^^ ^® ^^^ see great misery, Stephen," she He was silent. From that peaceful little room war and ite horrors seemed very far away. The morning sun poured m through the south windows and was scattered rV^^ 1^ wm'. %*^^ sideboard From above, on the wall. Colonel Wilton Brice gazed soberly down. Stephen's eyes hghted on the portrait, and his thoughts flew back to the boyhood days when he used to ply Eis father with ques- tions about It. Then the picture had suggested only the glory and honor which illumines the page of history Something worthy to look back upon, to keep one's head high. The hatred and the suffering and the teare, the heartrending, tearing apart for all time of loving ones who have grown together, - these were not upon that canvas. Wili war ever be painted with a wart ? The sound of feet was heard on the pavement. Stephen r^'tu ''^"^ at his mother. Her face was still upon her wsma^tr^ji^.^iAiM.Mjam- j ■^»^?*»«^?-Jt?T3r2, r 276 THE CRISIS "I must see what ** I am goin^ to the Arsenal," he said, is happening.' To her, as has been said, was given \»isdom beyond most women. She did not try to prevent him as he Ussed her good-by. But when the door had shut behind him, a little cry escaped her, and she ran to the window to strain her eyes after him until he had turned the corner below. His steps led him irresistibly past the house of the strange flag, ominously quiet at that early hour. At sight of it anger made him not again. The car for South St. Louis stood at the end of the line, fast filling with curious people who had read in their papers that morning of the equip- ment of the new troops. There was little talk among them, and that little guarded. It was a May morning to rouse a sluggard ; the night air tingled into life at the touch of the sunshine, the trees in the flitting glory of their first green. Stephen found the shaded street in front of the Arsenal already filled with an expectant crowd. Sharp commands broke the silence, and he saw the blue regiments forming on the lawn inside the wall. Truly, events were in the air, — great events in which he had no part. As he stood leaning against a tree-box by the curb, dragged down once more by that dreaded feeling of de- tachment, he heard familiar voices close beside him. Leaning forward, he saw Eliphalet Hopper and Mr. Cluyrae. It was Mr. Cluyme who was speaking. *' Well, Mr. Hopper," he said, " in spite of what you say, I expect you are just as eager as I am to see what is going on. You've taken an early start this morning for sight- seeing." Eliphalet's equanimity was far from shaken. " I don't cal'late to take a great deal of stock in the mili- tary," he answered. " But business is business. And a man must keep an eye on what is moving." Mr. Clryme ran his hand through his chop whiskers, and lowered his voice. " You're right, Hopper," he assented. " And if this city is going to be Union, we ought to know it right away." THE STONE THAT IS REJECTED 27T Stephen, liatening with growing indignation to this talk. 7Z ""7*1^ °^ * "**" ^^^ «*«**^ «^ *^« «^her side of the tree, and who now came forward before Mr. Hopper. He Knt^'mTteTlX^^^^ ^°^- ^' Cl"^- havi^^i"w '" "* u *^® Stranger, quietly, « I think we have met before, when your actions were not greatly to your credit I do not foi^et a face, even when I see f i^ the dark. Now I hear vou utter words which are a dis- fZlf / '^'^'^S °^T ^^""'^^ States. I have some respect for a rebel. I have none for you, sir." As soon as Stephen recov*>-ed from the shock of his sur- prise, he saw that Elipha..t had changed countenance. Ihe manner of an important man of affairs, which he had so assiduously cultivated, fell away from him. He took a step backward, and his eyes made an ugly shift. Stephen rejoiced to see the stranger turn his bacl on the manager of Carvel & Company before that dignitaiy had time to S"red ^ unconcernedly there as if nothing had Then Stephen stared at him. He was not a man you would look at twice, ordinarily. S!tT.~ !JI?* ^^} ^^ S°^ '''^'- He wore clothL that were anything but new, a slouch hat, and coaree- ^ined, square-toed boots. His trousers were creased at the knees. His head feU forward a little from his square ^^htr^ r°u A*°^^ \^'^ ^ o°« «ide, as if meditatively. He had a light brown beard that was reddish in the sun, and he was rather short than otherwise. no« 1 1^ ''^ *^** St^V^en saw. And yet the very plain- ness of the man's appearance only added to his curi^ity. Who was this stoaneer? His words, his action, too, had teen remarkable. TLe art of administering a rebuke like that was not given to many men. It was perfectly quiet, perfectly final. And then, when it was overThe had turned nis back and dismissed it. Next Stephen began to wonder what he could know about Hopper. Stephen had suspected Eliphalet of sub- ordinating principles to business gain, and hence the con- till I Sf5 ■ - -1 « ■ » i ■Jf-^W^IlW-^- -kl-i 278 THE CBISIS versation with Mr. Cluyme had given him no shock in the way of a revehition. But if Hopper were a rogue, ought not Colonel Carrel to hear it? Ought not he, Stephen Brice, to ask this man with the cigar what he knew, and tell Judge Whipple? The sudden rattle of drums gave him a start, and cruelly reminded him of the gulf of preju- dice and hatred fast widening between the friends. All this time the stranger stood impassively chewing his cigar, his hand against the tree-box. A regiment in column came out of the Arsenal gate, the Union leader, in his colonel's uniform, on horseback at its head. He pulled up in the street opposite to Stephen, and sat in his saddle, chatting with other officers around him. Then the stranger stepped across the limestone gutter and walked up to the Colonel's horse. He was still smoking. This move, too, was surprising enough. It argued even more assurance. Stephen listened intently?. " Colonel Blair, my name is Grant," he said briefly. The Colonel faced quickly about, and held out his gloved hand cordially. " Captain Ulysses Grant," said he, "of the old army?" Mr. Grant nodded. '* I wanted to wish you luck," he said. "Thank you, Grant," answered the Colonel. "But you? Where are you living now?" "I moved to Illinois after I left here," replied Mr. Grant, as quietly as before, " and have been in Galena, in the leather business there. I went down to Springfield with the company they organized in Galena, to be of any help I could. They made me a clerk in the adjutant gen- eral's office of the state. I ruled blanks, and made out forms for a while." He paused, as if to let the humble char- acter of this position sink into the Colonel's oomprehension. "Then they found out that I'd been quai^ermaster and commissary, and knew something about military orders. Now I'm a state mustering officer. I came down to Belle- ville .to muster in a regiment, which wasn't ready. And so I ran over here to see what you fellows were doing." If this humble account had been delivered volubly, &l I n 'jc>.':-:>«ijar» THE STONE THAT IS REJECTED 279 in another tone, it is probable that the citizen-colonel would not have listened, since the events of that day were to crown his work of a winter. But Mr. Grant possessed a manner of holding attention. It was very evident, how- ever, that Colonel Blair had other things to think of. Nevertheless he said kindly: — " Aren't you going in. Grant ? " »• I can't afford to go in as a captain of volunteers," was the calm reply. « I served nine years in the regular army, and I think I can command a regiment." The Colonel, whose attention was called away at that moment, did not reply. Mr. Giant moved off up the street. Some of the youn^r oflBcers who were there, laughed as they followed his retreating figure. "Comman' a regiment!" cried one, a lieutenant whom Stephen recognized as having been a book-keeper at Edwards, James, & Doddington's, and whose stiff blue uniform coat creased awkwardly. « I guess I'm about as fit to command a regiment as Grant is." "That man's fortv years old, if he's a day," put in another. " I remember when he came here to St. Louis in '54, played out. He'd resigned from the army on the Pacific Coast. He put up a log cabin down on the Gravois Road, and there he lived in the hardest luck of any man I ever saw until last year. You remember him, Joe." " Yep," said Joe. " I spotted him by the El Sol cigar. He used to brincf a load of wood to the city once in a while, and then he'd go over to the Planters' House, or somewhere else, and smoke one of these long fellows, and sit against the wall as silent as a wooden Indian. After that he came up to tb^ city without his family and went into real estate one winter. Bui he didn't make it go. Curious, it is just a year ago this month that he went over to Illinois. He's an honest fellow, and hard working enouffh, but he don't know ^-ow. He's iust a dead failure.^ "Command a regiment'" mughed the first, again, as if this in particular had struck his sense of humor. " I guess he WOP t get a regiment la a hurry. There's lots of those j-.v^ 1-: 280 II THE CRISIS military oaipet-baggere hanging around for good jobs now. "He might fool you fellows yet," said the one called Joe, though his tone was not one of conviction. "I under- stand he had a firat-rate record in the Mexican War." Just then an aide rode up, and the Colonel gave a sharp command which put an end to this desultory talk. As the First Regiment took up the march, the words "Camp Jackson" ran from mouth to mouth on the sidewalks. Catching fire, Stephen ran with the crowd, and leaping on a passing street car, was borne cityward with the drums of the coming hosts beating in his ears. In the city, shutters were going up on the stores. The streets were filled with restless citizens seeking news, and drays were halted here and there on the comers, the white eyes and frenzied calls of the negro drivers betraying their excitement. While Stephen related to his mother the events of the morning, Hester burned the dinner. It lay, still untouched, on the table when the throbbing of drums sent them to the front steps. Sigel's regiment had swung into the street, drawing in its wake a seething crowd. Three persons came out of the big house next door. One was Anne Brinsmade ; and there was her father, his white hairs uncovered. The third was Jack. His sister was clinging to him appeaUngly, and he struggling in her grasp. Out of his coat pocket hung the curved butt of a ig pepper-box revolver. "Let me ^o, Anne I" he cried. "Do you think I can stay here while my people are shot down by a lot of damned Dutchmen ? " "John," said Mr. Brinsmade, sternly, "I cannot let you join a mob. I cannot let you shoot at men who carry the Union flag." ^ " You cannot prevent me, sir," shouted the young man, in a frenzy. " When foreigners take our flag for their own, it is time for us to shoot them down." Wrenching himself free, he -w down the steps and up the street ahead of the regiment. Then the soldiers and the noisy crowd were upon them ; and while these were 'C''^?^?!* THE STONE THAT IS EEJECTED m went back iito ths ?,^!r ^- *"• ^nnsmade tamed and Stephen .„d"u: motherXw^'^lu^H" ".f"^"- ^^e i. a ^beV .he f.lte„"d'^-'^it"^1u^Cin; fe'. two yea« befoTon the ouEtf ^.^^^^^^^o^ ^ad built waU it the sidrand the brick 8^^^^^ ""'^ *t« Stephen approached iL f >;« *]f« i!?® *°*^ ®**^^® y»rd. As this worlds XI a^ii^t^"^^**'^"^^ *« bim how little big cXmc^ Ws^i ?n lf\f ^"^""^^t 0«« of the thft dayf^dtar^eTJd W v''? T'^^S regimente darken L dooSl' toth^rt^^i'n^c^^t^^^^^^ ^ s:&-sr^ «^ -other h^rflrso"ut;,;rtS^^^ As he stcwd there med.tat.ng, and payi^ no attention fj&^ -/Ss^-I > 282 THE CRISIS to those who hurried past, a few ^miliar notes were struck on a piano. They came through the wide-shuttered win- dow above his head. Then a girPs voice rose above the notes, in tones that were exultant : — " Away down South in de fields of cottoot Cinnamon seed and sandy bottom, Look away, look away, Look away, look away. Den I wish I was in Dixie's Land, Oh, oh I oh, oh I In Dixie's Land I'll take my stand, And live and die in Dixie's Land. Away, away, away. Away down Soatn in Dixie." The sone ceased amid peals of girlish laughter. Stephen was rootea to the spot. " Jinny ! Jinny Carvel, how dare you I " came through the shutters. '* We shall have a whole regiment of Hes- sians in here." Old Uncle Ben, the Catherwoods' coachman, came out of the stable yard. The whites of his eyes were rolling, half in amusement, half in terror. Seeing Stephen stand- ing there, he exclaimed : — ** Mistah Brice, if de Dutch take Camp Jackson, is we niggers gwinter be free ? " Stephen did not answer, for the piano had started again. « If ever I consent to be married, — And who could refuse a good mate? — The man whom I give my hand to. Must believe in the Rights of the State." More laughter. Then the blinds were flung aside, and a young lady in a dress of white trimmed with crimson stood in the window, smiling. Suddenly she perceived Stephen in the road. Her smile faded. For an instant she stared at him, and then turned to the girls crowding behind her. What she said, he did not wait to hear. He was stri(Ung down the hill. M^k CHAPTER XIX THE TENTH OP MAY "W^'ori!/^"^ ^^^'' ?"* ^*"^^«« surrender! i„ iS n .u »/<>«°fir lady who sat behind the blinds m Mrs Catherwoo/'s parlor. It seemed to her when she fi^hw l»«^n for the first guns of the coming battle "V^ r^"''' » '° }^' >*^ ^°"ld drown their i-oar ie^^dt^^ir''^-^^ ^^^ ^^ P'^ R"««e» ^ho never fi?Kf ^^*^. V®'' T^*^' ^* ^""Id be folly for them to f fS ;h«?il^"^:^ *°^ ^"^""« outnumber thL ten to on^ r J ^*^®°^ »ny powder and bullets." CfttwinS°*5 ^*'l^?'' ^ ^f''? ^° * hoUow," said Maude Catherwood, dejectedly And yet hopefully, too, for at the thought of bloodshed she was^ near to faiiiing. wan?t W "^^ ^^*^ 7'^?^?' P?f innately. "I believe you want them to surrender. I should rather see Clarence cfcad than giving his sword to a Yankee." an «nSLl 1'**^®'' two were silent again, and sat on through fh« S?ir ^"^'^^'^ of uncertainty and hope and dread in the darkened room. Now and anon Mr Catherwood's ti^J^K P 1™ ^a"""^.^ ^^ P^^^d ^^^ ^^- From time to sT/ tl l^°°1? ** X¥T' "^'^^ ^^^^^ »^er thought She and Puss RusseU Had come that day to dine lith K'- ^^T- Catherwood's Ben, reeking of the stable^ had brought the rumor of the marching on the camp into wf nf /K"^ "' and close upon the heels of this the^^rum- We of the drums and the passing of Sigel's regiment. It was Virginia who had the presence of^mind to slam the blinds m the feces of the troops, and the crowd had cheered her. It was Virginia who flew to the piano to play Dixie ere tiiey could get by, to the awe and^^admiration of the girls and the dehght of Mr. Catherwood, who applauded 388 t } „i 284 THE CRISIS her spirit despite the trouble which weighed upon him. Once more the crowd had cheered, — and hesitated. But the Dutch regiment slouched on, impassive, and the people followed. Virginia remained at the piano, her mood exalted patri- otism, uplifted in spirit by that grand song. At first she had played it with all her might. Then she sang it. She laughed in very scorn of the booby soldiers she had seen. A million of these, with all the firearms in the world, could not prevail against the flower of the South. Then she had begun whimsically to sing a verse of a song she had heard the week before, and suddenly her exaltation was fled, and her fingers left the keys. Gaining the window, trembling, half-expectant, she flung open a olind. The troops, the people, were gone, and there alone in the road stood — Stephen Brice. The others close behind her saw him, too, and Puss cried out in her surprise. The impression, when the room was dark once more, was of sternness and sadness, — and of strength. Effaced was the picture of the plodding recruits wiUi their coarse and ill-fitting uni- forms of blue. Virginia shut the blinds. Not a word escaped her, nor could they tell why they did not dare to question her then. An hour passed, perhaps two, before the shrill voice of a boy was heard in the street below : — '' Camp Jackson has surrendered ! " They heard the patter of his bare feet on the pavement, and the cry repeated : — *' Camp Jackson has surrendered I ** And so the war began for Virginia. Bitter before, now was she on fire. Close her lips as tightly as she might, the tears forced themselves to her eyes. The ignominy of it! How hard it is for us of this age to understand that feeling. " I do not believe it I " she cried. " I cannot believe itl" The g^ls gathered around her, pale and frightened and anxious. Suddenly courage returned to her, the courage THE TENTH OF MAY 285 ViJ^'nia ***'''*^'^ "*^"'^ *° ^*^- ^"* ** ^id not shock " And not a shot fired? " he said. Both r« t «^^^fi^«lJ" Vireinia repeated, mechanically. "No, malmT ^"^^ ^^^^ ^ ^*- "Oh, how could they I " exclaimed Vimnia. Her words seemed to arouse Mr. Cather^ood from a kind of stupor. He turned, and took her hand. rn^ T'J^k°'*'.'^i *^*^i ""^^^ *^«" smart for this yet, Mv God I he cried, "what have I done that my son shou^S hL'p^n^r ToT t^h* ^T" broth^^fiXng"?^ z:ntzr^eo'::^^h w^rthatxru&i^ Uf^* "* ^ there -to the camp. Let us stand on the httie mound at the northeast of it, on the oJrve Street Road, whence Captain Lyon's artiUei^ commanrit What Ltf"^J'''°* yesterday! Davis Avenue Tno on^er a fashionable promenade, flashing with bright dresses IhLe ^ular^evwflt"^^ ^« United Stetes rJk^ ^""^ "^'*? regiments have surrounded the camo Each commander has obeyed the mast«>r mind of 4 cS; I I ;i im (. i I 286 THE CRISIS who has oalouUted the time of marohing with preoiaion. HerCf at the western gate. Colonel Blair^ regiment is in open order. See the prisoners taking their pliuses between the ranks, some smiling, as if to say all is not over yet ; some with heads hung down, in sulky shame. Still others, who are true to the Union, openly relieved. But who is this o£Boer breaking his sword to bits against the fence, rather than surrender it to a Yankee ? Listen to the crowd as they cheer him. Listen to the epithets and vile names which they hurl at the stolid blue line of the victors. " Mudsills I " " Negro Worshippen I " Yes, the crowd is there, seetning with conflicting pas- sions. Men with brows bent and fists clenched, yelling excitedly. Others pushing, and eager to see, — there in curiosity only. And, alas I women and children by the score, as if what they looked upon were not war, but a parade, a spectacle. As the gray uniforms file out of the gate, the crowd has become a mob, now flowing back into the fields on each side of the road, now pressmg forward vindictively until stopped by the sergeants and corporals. Listen to them calling to sons, and brothers, and husbands in gray I See, there is a woman who spits in a soldier's face I Throughout it all, the officers sit their horses, unmoved. A man on the bank above draws a pistol and aims at a captain. A German private steps from the ranks, forget- f m of discipline, and points at the man, who is cursing the captain's name. The captain, imperturbable, orders his man back to his place. And the man does not shoot — yet. Now are the prisoners of that regiment all in place between the two files of it. A band (one of those which played lightsome music on the birthday of the camp) is marched around to the head of the column. The regi- ment with its freight moves on to make place for a bat- talion of regulars, amid imprecations and cries of " Hurrah for Jeff Davis!" and "Damn the Dutch I" "Kill the Hessians ! " Stephen Brice stood among the people in Lindell's Giuve, luuking up at the troops on the road, which was W iK^ THE TENTH OF MAY 287 ih^ ^/"*°v- ''^^ n ^."^ ^""^ followed. Dismoimted at i^«r «**^^ "°**^^ following, the young CapteTwIlked erect. He did not seem to hear th« nh««l ir * ^*""<* tt luS, • h" "rP"' ."" "■"^y'"? deter™ LS' of C to wt i, H- . *"" P*''P'» '" "" field, ancf the ^l^r^ upon th-eUt^i t^ -Z't &ty^SJ sSr-Y'^? ^te::rx-htL\!!f ^.■^iji m crmiflon and white in a window, — in her face FJi tfT«1Si° ^' """^ i^ ? ?« ^^'^ «f her coudn. It waJ af come. """'' "^"'^ **^^ ^*^" «^ «"ff«""g that w™ to WW^^f.r^r^^'*^ ?®^P bitterness his reason wavered What if the South should win 9 Qnrni« Tt *^*^«™"- such feeling in the N<^„ tSe peopirlw^d^Tlit rT h^f^r'^-' '^'^ *"« Seing'^f ''t^o eSota q^f H. T™ .J° §"'™ J""- "* »»w the Southern Zw Suffi't^^^Vi^^ X'7%"hrht'h VP S!™'""^' Clarence ^olCS^" owl'^ta itg^^'l^S: t Cad'^.run^ s^tl!|^l "^ ^-/"^ -r- M Presently these Sioughta were distracted by the sight M if ^:i^^^w 'ifT^ ^^1^' Wfy 288 THE CRISIS of a back strangely familiar. The back belonged to a gentleman who was energetically climbing the embank- ment in front of him, on the top of which Major Saxton, a regular army officer, sat his horse. The gentleman was pullmg a smsU boy after him by one hand, and held a newspaper tightly rolled in the other. Stephen smiled to himself when it came over him that this gentleman was none other than that Mr. William T. Sherman he had met m the street car the day before. Somehow Stephen was fascinated by the decision and energy of Mr. Sherman's slightest raovuments. He gave Major Saxton a salute, quick and grnial. Then, almost with one motion he un- rolled the ne spaper, pointed to a paragraph, and handed it to the officer. Major Saxton was still reading when a drunken ruffian clambered up the bank behind them and attempted to pass through the lin?«. The column began to move forward. Mr. Sherman slid down the bank with his boy into the grove beside Stephen. Suddenly there was a struggle. A corporal pitched the drunkard backwards over the bank, and he rolled at Mr. Sherman's feet. With a curse, he picked himself up, fumbling in his pocket. There was a flash', and as the smoke rolled from before his eyes, Stephen saw a man of a German regiment stagger and fall. It was the signal for a rattle of shots. Stones and bricks filled the air, and were heard striking steel and flesh in the ranks. The regiment quivered,— then halted at the k'ld command of the officers, and the ranks faced out with level guns. Stephen reached fcr Mr. Sherman's boy, but a gentleman had already thrown him and was covering his body. He contrived to throw down a woman standing beside him before the minie balls swished over their heads, and the h^ves and branches began to fall. Between the popping of the shots sounded the shrieks of wounded women and children, the groans and curses of men, and the stampeding of hundreds. "Lie down, Brice! For God's sake lie down I" Mr. Sherman cried. He was about to obey when a yonng man, small and ■M-?^-:'M^d:^^ '^^sim:"^^ _ THE TENTH OF MAT 289 Jgile,ran past him from behind, heedless of the nanir S^-Dpmg at the foot of the bankhe drop^d on oneCe' m g^ revolver m the hoUow of his l^t -na It ™ Jack ^rinsmade. At the same time tv n of -?« JiZ!f above lowered their barrels to cover hm tk^T* hid the scene. When ITroUed aXay, "fosmth ' vl' oXZd; ""' '""^^'"'i *« *^^ feItv:i.'roath?anS fn^^^ * young man who was hatless, and upon whose forehead was burned a black powder mark. ^ ^ Curse you I he cried, reaching out wildlv : "curee vn„ you , you let me go and Maddened, he made a rush at Stephen's throat But Stephen seized his hands and bent tfem down and h«?i them firmly while he kicked and struS ' ^^^ Vi\^T^ ^^'^ ^ he panted ; "curse you, yo V Z®"' ~ y®" "nkee upstart ! " But Stephen held on. Brinsmade becamp mnr« o«^ 2ll'af'\y.^^^ '^ ^^« office,.,tebnhe"t;^^^^^^ started down the bank, was reviled, and hesitated At that moment Major Sherman came between them. sinLn'^-r ^r''"^\'*^^' ^ » tone of command Stephen diS as he was bid. Whereupon Brinsmade "Now see here. Jack," he said, picking it up, «I don't innt ol*"??^! ^^^^ happened. Brinsmade took one lonjr Souch t^^*"'"' *"^"f «^hi« heel, and walked off ,^pTd°f through the grove. And it may be added that for some years after he was not seen in St. Louis. Than^'v °Sr®"* ^^^ ?^^^ *^° «tood staring after him Then Mn Shennan took his boy by the hand. ^ m Uf' kT' i5 "^^J' "^'^^ ««^" * fe^ things done in mv life, but nothing better than this. Perhaps the d^v a.y come when vou and I mav meet in the ~-^- -^^ aon 1 1 m to think much of may army. They us now," he added, smiling I I ■I m ^ 290 THE CRISIS " but we ma^ be of use to 'em later. If ever I can serve you, Mr. Bnce, I beg you to call on me." Stephen stammered his acknowledgments. And Mr. Sherman, nodding his head vigorously, went away south- ward through the grove, toward Market Street. The column was moving on. The dead were being laid in carriages, and the wounded tended by such physicians as chanced to be on the spot. Stephen, dazed at what had happened, took up the march to town. He strode faster than the regiments with their load of prisoners, and pres- ently he found himself abreast the little file of dragoons who were guarded by some of Blair's men. It was then that he discovered that the prisoners' band in front was playing " Dixie." They are climbing the second hill, and are coming now to the fringe of new residences which the rich citizens have built. Some of them are close! and dark. In the windows and on the steps of others women are crying or waving handkerchiefs and calling out to the prisoners, some of whom are gay, and others sullen. A distracted father tries to bre^ through the ranks and rescue his son. Ah, here is the Catberwood house. That is open. Mrs. Catheiwood, with her hand on her husband's arm, with red eyes, is scanning those faces for the sight of George. Will he ever come back to her ? Will the Yankees murder him for treason, or send him North to languish the rest of his life ? No, she will not go inside. She must see him. She will not faint, though Mrs. James has, across the street, and is even now being carried into the house. Few of us can see into the hearts of those women that day, and speak of the suffering there. Near the head of Mr. Blair's regiment is Tom. His face is cast down as he passes the house from which he is ban- ished. Nor do father, or mother, or sister in their agony make any sound or sign. George is coming. The welcome and the mourning and the tears are all for him. The band is playing '•'■ Dixie " once more. George is com- ing, and some one else. The girls are standing in a knot hamnd the old people, dry-eyed, their handkerchief in ?^ if^l^.>•^i« tx "^£: ^^ THE TENTH OF MAY 291 their handfl. Some of the prisoneis take off their hats and smile at the voung ladv with the chiselled features Sd b.own hair, who wears tie red and white of the South a« f she were born to them. Her eves are searching Ah Tt last she sees him, walking erect at the head S hi^draloris He gives her one look o1 entreaty, and tiiat sm^T^^^X should have won her heart long aeo As i f Tv L f hil f ^5^""^^'^^ ^r^« »*^ ^hem until they are gone down Ip.^n'^ ^^if T*^^'/^^ "^'S^^ ^ave seen a solftary figure Wng the line of march and striding acro^LX: *i,^tf "?^^* *^® ^^'^^^^ of the heavens were ooened anH ttie blood was washed from the grass in LindSJirl^ The rain descended in floods on ^Td^sti^ted k^^^^^^ the great river rose and flung brush fX MTnLote foreste high up on the stones of ^the levee SowaTnTht sight and sound of them and to which th^y were powerfeS ^.^^- i^^J^' ^°^ °^^^«"' »»d ^^es were there, Xvond the ram, holding out arms to them. ^ laste TntVw^A'l'f the blood? Av, whUe the day w!* 1 ?"*!^ha* of the long nights when husband and wife have lain side by side? What of the children who ^k piteously where their father is going, and who are ^f L^H of that last breakfast at home ? So in the mir1«* nf^l cheer which is saddest in life comes the thougTt that iust one year ago, he who is the staff of the house wL wont to sit down just so menily to his morning meaj! teforrZ n^ to work in the office. Why had they not thanked gS of their knees for peace while they had it ? •I THE CRISIS See the brave little wife waitin? on the porch of her home for him to go by. The sun shines, and the grass is green on the little plot, and the geraniums red. Last spring she was sewing here with a song on her lips, watch- ing for him to turn the corner as he came back to dinner. But now ! Hark I Was that the beat of the drums ? Or was it thunder ? Her good neighbors, the doctor and his wife, come in at the littie gate to cheer her. She does not hear them. Why does God mock her with sunlight and with friends? Tramp, tramp, tramp I They are here. Now the band is blaring. That is his company. And that is his dear face, the second from the end. Will she ever see it again ? Look, he is smiling bravely, as if to say a thousand tender things. " WiU, ai-e the flannels in your knapsack ? You have not for^fotten that me licine for your cough? " What courage subhme is '! at which lets her wave at him ? Well for you, little woman, that you cannot see the faces of the good doctor and his wife behind you. Oh, those guns of Sumter, how they roar in your head ! Ay, and will roar again, through forty years of widowhood ! Mrs. Brice was in the little parlor that Friday night, listening to the cry of the rain outside. Some thoughts such as these distracted her. Why should she be happy, and other mothers miserable ? The day of reckoning for her happiness must surely come, when she must kiss Stephen a brave farewell and give him to his country. For the sins of the fathers are visited on the children, unto the third and fourth generation of them that hate Him who is the Ruler of all things. The bell rang, and Stephen went to the door. He was startled to see Mr. Brinsmade. That gentleman was sud- denly aged, and his clothes were wet and spattered with mud. He sank into a chair, but refused the spirits and water which Mrs. Brice offered him in her alarm. "Stephen," he said, "I have been searching the city for John. Did you see him at Camp Jackson — was he hurt?" " I think not, jir,** Stephen answered, with clear eyes= ^^i£^i ».sf -i A^ THE TENTH OF MAY jjj "oLT ^ "^^H •«''«"~d rfter th, firing ^ ^ wife and damthter I L^ ' ^.fM '""7 ^ ««" my Mw him." ^ '"™ '*«"' ""s to find no one who tor"^ TwsTife!' J^'Tn^ ''Jtephen', '»""««<•. But t. inqni^ .boat th;^in^„?Sr'™' '^ """"" »«"»'-<' hi. I?C;C ^2 StlJird^i """ »»' ""-•" "'■> li I CHAPTER XX m THE AB8BNAL These was a dismal tea at Colonel Carvel's house in Locust Street that evening. Virginia did not touch a mouthful, and the Colonel merely made a pretence of eating. About six o'clock Mrs. Addison Colfax had driven in from Bellegarde, nor could it rain fast enough or hard enough to waeh the foam from her panting horses. She did not wait for Jackson to come out with an umbrella, but rushed through ^hc wet from the carriage to the door in her haste to urge the Colonel to go to the Arsenal and demand Clarence^ release. It was in vain that Mr. Car- vel assured her it would do no good ; in vain that he told her of a more important matter that claimed him. Could there be a more important matter than his own nephew kept in durance, and in danger of being murdered by Dutch butchers in the frenzy of their victory? Mrs. Col- fax shut herself up in her room, and through the door Yi^nia heard her sobs as she went down to tea. The Colonel made no secret of his uneasiness. With his hat on his head, and his hands in his pockets, he paced up and down the room. He let his cigar go out, — a more serious sign still. Finally he stood with his face to the black window, against wnich the big drops were beating in a fury. Virginia sat expressionless at the head of the table, still in that gown of white and crimson, which she had worn in honor of the defenders of the state. Expressionless, save for a glance of solicitation at her father's back. If resolve were feminine, Virginia might have sat for that portrait. There was a light in her dark blue eyes. Under- neath there were traces of the day's ihtigue. When she spoke, there was little life in her voice. IN THE ARSENAL 295 Aren t you going to the Planters' House, Pa ?»» The Colonel turned, and tried to smile. " I reckon not to-night. Jinny. Why ? " ^^I reckon they don't know at the Pbnters' House," he «S®°""u" J^FJ" Virginia, and stopped. J?®° "^t**^ ^« »»^«d' stroking fier hair. . Then why not go to the Barracks? Order the car- nal, and I will go with you." His smile faded. He stood looking down at her fixedly as ™ somefames his habit. Grave tenderness was^lS; Cii^ncT?" ^^ ^^ ^^°'^^^' " '^'"''^* ^"^ ^'*'' ""^^ ^ """^ The suddenness of the question took uer breath. But she answered steadily:— »«oi«ia. uut "Yes." ** Do you love him ? " qI^I *^® answered. But her lashes feU. nifrS * I ' ^'J '^ T""^*^ *** ^«' *^* her father's gaze pierced to her secret soul. * " Come here, my dear," he said. He held out his arms, and she fluttered into them. The twrs were coine at last. It was not the first time she had «^o,»^ ^' troubles against that great heart, which had ZZ^J^Atl '^""Kpi^g^- /rom childhood she had been comforted there, llad she broken her doll, had Mammy Easter been cross, had lessons gone wrong at school, vvi she lU, or wea^ with that heaviness of^spirit which is woman s inevitable lot, - this was her sanctuary. But now I This burden God Himself had sent, and none save h^r Heavenly Father might cure it. Through his great love uel ^'^ ^"^^^ ^ ""^^ ^"""^^ to divine it- only Many times he strove to speak, and could not. But presentiy, as if ashamed of her tears, she drew back from lum and took her old seat on the arm of his chair. fi.v;!:. 5; . 296 THE CRISIS fjP m By the light of his intuition, the Colonel chose his words well. What he had to speak of was anotiber sorrow, yet a healing one. " You must not think of marriage now, my dear, when the bread we eat may fail us. Jinny, we are not as rich as we used to be. Our trade was in the South and West, and now the South and West cannot pay. I had a conference with Mr. Hopper yesterday, and he tells me that we must be prepared. She laid her hand upon his. "And did you think I would care, dear?" she asked gently. " I can bear with poverty and rags, to win this war." His own eyes were dim, but pride shone in them. Jack- son came in on tiptoe, and hesitated. At the Colonel's motion he took away the china and the silver, and removed the white cloth, and turned low the lights in the chan- delier. He went out softly, and closed the door. "Pa," said Virginia, presently, "do you trust Mr. Hopper ? " Tne Colonel gave a start. " Why,jye8, Jinny. He improved the business greatly before this trouble came. And even now we are not in such straits as some other houses." " Captain Lige doesn't like him." " Lige has prejudices." "So have I," said Virginia. "EUphalet Hopper will serve you so long as he serves himself. No longer." " I think you do him an injustice, my dear,^ answered the Colonel. But uneasiness was in his voice. " Hopper is hard working, scrupulous to a cent. He owns two slaves now who aro runninfir the river. He keeps out of politics, and he has none of the Yankee faults." " I wish he had," said Virginia. The Colonel made no answer to this. Getting up, he went over to the bell-cord at the door and pulled it Jack- son came in hurriedly. "Is my bag packed?" "Yes, Marsa." " Where are you going? " cried Virginia, in alarm. . ■Jr'.ir t IN THE AKSENAL 297 worf ?hi*fcoS:'^' ''•"• '••""'• Go"*"". I got "In the rain?" He .miled, and ..tooped to kin her. New Orleai timoSw or SuX " ** '^'^ '"" bea^gXt ""eW? hL"!^ '"'°^* S'' '"''*•• •"« »>»« flow. Vkng S of LtoTy'X'^,.""'^ """'' '^ a peaceaMe%£te institution, ttevW^hot'l"" '• ' """?• rsc^»:; thelS*^^^? "?»"'°^°"*^' ^.td^hti;;!jr^^^^™-^'--'V;sir^^^^ thought i°™^theS?]th™'* me Jiuuy!" she cried. «I havS't^^dZe t CtotT"'^ *° ""^' "" »"• ^'»' " We shall see him to-dav. Aunt Lillian »» «,«» *i, • ^ i I 3"t| -; ' 1 " -i -i T.'.-'M[R3-*^j?± -- '.^v>r^&siK5tifc?::m.^' -■^jS*** 298 THE CRISIS i ** I could not sleep a wink. Jinn j, all night long. I look wretchedly. I am afraid I aii going to have another of my attacks. How it is raining I What does the news- paper say?" " I'll get it for you," said Virginia, used to her aunt's vagaries. " No, no, tell me. I am much too nervous to read it" " It says that they will be paroled to-day, and that they passed a comfortable night." " It must be a Yankee lie," said the lady. " Oh, what a night I I saw them torturing him in a thousand wajrs — the Darbarians I I know he had to sleep on a dirty floor with low-down trash." " But we shall have him here to-night. Aunt Lillian I " cried Virginia. ♦* Mammv, tell Uncle Ben that Mr. Clarence will be here for tea. We must have a feast for him. Pa said that they could not hold them." " Where is Comyn ? " inquired Mrs. Colfax. " Has he gone down to see Clarence ? " "He went to Jefferson City last night," replied Vir- ginia. " The Governor sent for him." Mrs. Colfax exclaimed in horror at this news. "Do you mean that he has deserted us?" she cried. " That he has left us here defenceless, — at the mercy of the Dutch, that they may wreak their vengeance upon us women ? How can you sit still, Virginia ? If I were your age and able to drag myself to the street, I should be at the Arsenal now. I should be on my knees before that detestable Captain Lyon, even if he is a Yankee." Virginia kept her temper. "I do not go on my knees to any man," she said. " Rosetta, tell Ned I wish the carriage at once." Her aunt seized her convulsively hy the arm. " Where are you going. Jinny ? '^ she demanded. " Your Pa would never forgive me if anything happened to you." A smile, half pity, crossed the girl's anxious face. " I am afraid that I must risk adding to your misfor- tune. Aunt Lillian," she said, and left the room. IN THE ABSENAL 299 VirgmU drore to Mr. Brinsmade's. Hia was one of the respect. Like many Southemeis, when it became a ques- n«° "^ P/u '^h^''. B"°««»~ie'« unfaltering We f o? t?^ fe /hnir ^''*'^®^ ?* C"«?°d«° Compromise meet ngs ^/^^K^r? ^' P?'"' ^^^ °°^ *»^a* it was to be wai^ and he had taken his stand uncompromisingly with the Union, the neighbors whom he had bifriendecf ^r so man v r^v'^'^H "'* ^""? themselves to regani him^^ J^nL .1,^ "T' %^ ^^^'' feelings f and almost as soon as the war began he set about that work which has been done by self^enyincr Christians of all ages,- the reliS ?ih«5'"°^- ^ "' "^^^ T^^ ^^'"^^rt the widow and the fatheriess, and mamra night in the hospital he sat through h«J«H LT- /P^'Pl?''.*^ ^' *~"^^«' rather than hot- *»eaded advice frou their own leaders. anH f^rf""^"?!**®'* ""P ''^Tl^Sre was drawn up at his door. He rami jf^^^^T*" ^'"^^^ ^^""^""S «*^ *he threshold vfr^w r^, ^ «*«P« bareheaded in the wet to hand Virginia from her carriage. Courteous and kind as ever, he asked for her father and mfpn^^ far to hide their own trials under a cheerful ?.r?;* V- -® ***^®"' '^^'^ ^'^ ^««» generous, it mat- t^S «f T'"! ™ '?°* "^ thoughtless nor so selfish that she coulcT not perceive that a trouble had come to this good man. Absorbed as she was in her own affairs, tn^'J A^T t^- *^T ^ ^ presence. The fire left he; tongue, and to him she could not have spoken harshly was led into the drawing-room. From the comer of it Anne arose and came forward to throw her arms around •^1 ■li i : (■% : j- s.ltl ,- iA"- ■•If -"JV d soo THE CRISIS rl u r^*""?;,** ^"^ *^ «°°^ ®' J0« to oonw. Yon don't nAte me? •* Hate you, Anne dear ! " "Because we are Union," said honest Anne, wishing to have no shadow of doubt. Virginia was touched. "Anne," she cried, "if you were »«rTOan, I believe I should love you." "How good of you to come. I should not have dared ^ to your house, because I know that you feel so deenlv. You — you heard ? " *^ ' "Heard what?" asked Virginia, alarmed. "That Jack has run away — has gone South, we think. Perhaps, she cned, "perhaps he may be dead." And tears came into the girl's eyes. It was then that Virginia forgot Clarence. She drew Anne to the sofa and kissed her. "No, he U not dead," she said gently, but with a conH- dence m her voice of rare quality. "He is not dead, Anne dear, or you would have heard." Had she glanced up, she would have seen Mr. Brins- made s eye upon her. He looked kindly at all people, but this expression he reserved for those whom he honored. A life of service to othere had made him guess that, in the absence of her father, thU girl had come to him for help of some ki*^'" "Virrinia U ^^ht, Anne," he said. "John has gone to fight for his principles, as every gentleman who is free should ; we must remember that this is his home, and that we must not quarrel with him, because we think differ- ently. He paused, and came over to Virginia. " There IS something I can do for you, my dear?" said he. She rose. "Oh, no, Mr. Brinsmade," she cried. And vet her honesty was as great as Anne's. She would not nave it thought that she came for other reasons. " My aunt IS in such a state of worry over CUrence that I came to ask you if you thought the news true, that the prisoners are to be paroled. She thinks it is a — " Vinrinia fl^hed, and bit a rebellious tongue. "She does not IN THE ARSENAL 3Q1 Mrtainly." ^"P*"'' '''""'• »"'* "« •'>»11 fed out diould nStWe come" ° «>»- about JoEn, I knowledge of his whereabonla B,7t i„ ^"."°' '«"«» «o a pntlema^n of thU cJty I S 1 ouXK?,*" "yT^ happened at Camp Jaikson " * **" ^^ """t R,,f°^' M !""'.«™*»'»I. Major. Sit down, sir " iUot Z 1Z Wfth'^t^""";- "{' ^ S'-the mid- not^^beUeve in naneing n..t^„Cen ta'tel' wh;iitt;ii'''to';^rj^ ^^ rj?""* -r saving yoor ton's life." ^ "^' ' '*''"*' - *"' » I . il 902 THE CRISIS ** Stephen Brice ! *' exclaimed Mr. Brinsmade, in aston- ishment. Virginia felt Anne's hand tighten. But her own was limp. A hot wave swept over her. Was she never to hear the end of this man ? "Yes, sir, Stephen Brice," answered Mr. Sherman. ** And I never in my life saw a finer thing done, in the Mexican War or out of it." Mr. Brinsmade grew a little excited. " Are you sure tnat you know him? " " As sure as I know you," said the Major, with excessive conviction. *' But,*' said Mr. Brinsmade, **■ I was in there last night. I knew the young man had been at the camp. I assed him if he had seen Jack. He told me that he had. by the embankment. But he never mentioned a word abot.c sav- ing his life." "He didn't!" cried the Major. "By glory, but he's even better than I thought him. Did you see a black powder mark on his face?" " Whv, yes, sir, I saw a bad bum of some kind on his forehead." " Well, sir, if one of the Dutchmen who shot at Jack had known enough to put a ball in his musket, he would have killed Mr. Brice, who was only ten feet away, stand- ing before your son." Anne gave a little crv — Virginia was silent. Her lips were parted. Though she realized it not, she was thirsting to hear the whole of the story. The Major told it, soldier fashion, but well. How John rushed up to the line ; how he (Mr. Sherman) had seen Brice tlux>w the woman down and had cried to him to lie down himself; how the fire was darting down the regi- ment, and how men and women were falling all about them ; and how Stephen had flung Jack and covered him with his body. It was all vividlv before Virginia's eyes. Had she any right to treat such a man wiUi contempt? She remem- bered how he had looked at her when he stood on the *^--'irr.^-.-i^"' IN THE AESENAL 303 Anne, the gist otl^hh^aZnlAr'^r^'' T° ^ at preaching than at fiehtSia Vh« I ^"°® "^^ ^'^r ha/ known in her heart bSL th.fT °°^-:»«d she est^jj^tice she could have do^rht* *'" ™ *^« ^^^ "But Jack ? What did Jack do ? " Jack would havrshot St^hen h J J "'*'' *° "^^ ^^^^^ That was the ugly part of th« «f^ ^f ,!'°* interfered, shot the man whfL^ed his Hfe T^V), ^f"" T??^^ ^^^^ neither xMr. Brinsmade nor hi« wi Jv ^® 1*?^ **^ ^^ d«ath Mr. Brinsmade anT Anne hS^n ^"^ V^»«- B"t while bed these were the ttdln^^t ^aL'ffi V' •'•' ^\^- kept It in her heart. Thfre^on S * rS ? ^^'^^^^a* who she had guessed a part of it ^^^ ^'' ™ *^<^»"«e her^'^Sf &^;-irr ^ ^-y*' to the Arsenal with own griefriong Sb ? came to SL^^V it^'T'^"^ «' ^- her. 'ke told her ma^vTtfl^ .n i*l talk cEeerHy with not one of them dfdX Wr ^^9^^^^^ ot his tmvel, but she aiought W Mef in cf;r«n^'°^*l^","oment when last secufe, she f S hLp H ^ *°^ ^^' ^ove for him at sons between yraid^Slfe?™^ ""^^^"^ ^ompari- spite of heiBelf sZ had f^ J" ?. .u^°"o°8^ Bostonian. In splendid. W^ this d^lova?rshffl' ^"^^'K' ^^'^ ™ Clarence had been caS VtL^^^^^ rescue of an enemy. StlSas tL? i?'~I^''fi' *o the out to a remorseless end --;^^3^bi^fi"\«^^ ^^^ it to keeping silence when Mr r • ^""^^ ^*^^ *^®" equal StepheS Brice M nreven^'lH i-°^ ^*°^^ to him? maae beUeved. ^^^"^ ^"^ ""other, so Mr. Brins- dntid^nh^Tbleto^^^o?^^^^^^^ ^1^ rd?Ld«h;^fe[^^^^^^^^^^ steh^"] sities,' for his mother bv ^tSl il^lS^^' »°d often neces- sities, for his mother by wrSn^ for^'"' *°^ *^^° = "Often," said Mr^T^^ ^'^f^rfCe •-^H t 'i-i been 304 THE CRISIS 1 -It unable to sleep, and have seen the light in Stephen's room until the small hours of the morning." "Oh, Mr. Brinsmade," cried Virginia. "Can't you tell me something bad about him? Just once." The 1^ gentleman started, and looked searchingly at the girl by his side, flushed and confused. Perhaps he thought — but how can we tell what he thought? How can we guess that our teachers laugh at our pranks after they have caned us for them ? We do not remember that our parents have once been young themselves, and that some word or look of our own brings a part of their past vividly before them. Mr. Brinsmade was silent, buthe looked out of the carriage window, away from Virginia. And presently, as they splashed through the mud near the Arsenal, they met a knot of gentlemen in state uniforms on their way to the city. Nicodemus stopped at his master's si^fnal. Here was George Catherwood, and his father was with him. " They have released us on parole," said George. " Yes, we had a fearful night of it. They could not have kept us — they had no quarters." How changed he was from the gay trooper of yesterdayl His bright uniform was creased and soiled and muddy, his face unshaven, and dark rings of weariness under his eyes. "Do you know if Clarence Colfax has gone home?" Mr. Brinsmade inquired. "Clarence is an idiot," cried George, ill-naturedly. " Mr. Brinsmade, of all the prisoners here, he refused to take the parole, or the oath of allegiance. He swears he will remain a prisoner until he is exchanged" "The young man is Quixotic," declared the elder Caih- erwood, who was not himself in the best of humors. " Sir," said Mr. Brinsmade, with as much severity as he was ever known to use, "sir, I honor that young man for this more than I can tell you. Nicodemus, you may drive on." And he slammed the door. Perhaps George had caught sight of a face in the depths of the carriage, for he turned purple, and stood staring on the pavement after his choleric parent had gone on. ^PIr"i^1I^K ''-■-m^'T'' IN THE ARSENAL 3^5 of the Dragoons ""^^-^^Ptem Clarence Colfax, late and'j.alT^^h'^.Hr^^^^ *<> the A^enal, city deserved. He ^f V,W -^ ^' ^^"^ "^'^ce to the bare military room of th« Z^'^'^^^'V****^ into the P^ently caVeTaptfL^ThTrntF^^^^^^ with antagonism ^dien ah« ««i J?^ Virgima tingled the city trfmble, Jho had s«tT • '' f *? ""^^ ^^ ^ade brand of her cliwe H« f i"***" ?^^^ *»" the flamincj Herculean labo^rbut ^nlv^l, ' v^l *^ "^^'^^ «f ^^ His long red hali wL unbruZ^^- '^^.*^"' »°*^ P^^^on. bl^k mSd, and hb^St unbuttoned '^^^ "^^^^^^ ^th and his eye as clear as thon^f! ^ i,' J^"^ '*^® ^^ "»ddy, hours' sleep. He b^ed to y^r" ^ ^"'''' ^'**°* twelve to be suref. Her oClc^ ol'CUrrlJ?" ^T-li^^^^' seem to trouble him. recf rrnition did not He lefiues to take the MthS .ir • ™ " eKhanged. States." "'"' °' »Uegianoe to the United astonishment. ^ ®* "^^th looked at her in Viiginia bit Ber to^T ^^'""' '""' y*"-" Captain's oonXot C ™. P"". "y »- 306 I i: THE OBISIS t I '■: -■( he will be kind enough to come in here. Mr. Brinsmade," said the Captain, « I should like a few words with you, sir." And 80, thanks to the Captain's delicacy, when Ckrence arnved he found Virginia alone. She was much agitated. She ran toward him as he entered the door, camnff hia name. ^ " Max, you are going to stay here ? " " Yes, until I am exchanged." Aglow with admiration, she threw herself into his arms. Now, indeed, was she proud of him. Of all the thousand defenders of the state, he alone was true to his principles — to the South. Within sight of home, he alone had chosen privation. She looked up into his face, which showed marks of excitement and fatigue. But above all, excitement. She knew that he could live on excitement. The thought came to her — was it that which sustained him now? She put it away as treason. Surely the touch of this experience would transform the bov into the man. This was the weak Stint in the armor which she wore so bravely for her cousin, e had grown up to idleness. He had known neither care nor responsibility. His one longing from a child had been that love of fighting and adventure which is bom in the race. Until this gloomy day in the Arsenal, Virginia had never characterized it as a love of excitement as any- thing which contained a selfish element. She looked up into his face, I say, and saw that which it is given to a woman only to see. His eyes burned with a light that was far away. Even with his arms around her he seemed to have forgotten her presence, and that she had come all the way to the Arsenal to see him. Her hands dropped limply from his shoulders. She drew away, as he did not seem to notice. So it is with men. Above and beyond the sacrifice of a woman's life, the jov of possessing her soul and affection, 18 something more desirable still — fame and glory — per- sonal fame and glory. The woman may share them, of course, and be content with the radiance. When the Governor is making his inauguration speech, does he IN THE AESENAL ^ into a glorious future we do nn^f ""?!? ""^ *'« ^'^ ^^^^^ or value the swS^ wwl\°^lt^V^^»™« about us, labored so hard to "tt^^ ''^ ""^'^ humdrum days, we ga7eTirhf' "'''« "NolZ^™ fctiuSirS" '»'J'»t"»." replied he. ntS^l'S.V?'""'' '»*'«'"■"» ^ "^"^' fkelh&n:^ ^^ And you wiU be honored for it when the news reaches «cL?n"n*^^r/:;^^'f-o-tedeagerly. ..J "I shoufd like to hear an, one say so," d,e flashed oat. pi > i %'4 308 THE CRISIS " No, said Virrinia, « our friends will force them to release you. I do not Know much about law. But you hav^ done nothing to be imprisoned for." Clarence did not answer at once. Finally he said : " I do not want to be released." " You do not want to be released 1 '* she repeated. "No," he said. "They can exchange me. If I remain a prisoner, it will have a greater effect — for the South." She smiled again, this time at the boyish touch of heroics. Experience, responsibility, and he would get over that. She remembered once, long ago, when his mother had shut him up in his room for a punishment, and he had tortured her by remaining there for two whole dajrs. It was well on in the afternoon when she drove back to the city with Mr. Brinsmade. Neither of them had eaten since morning, nor had they even thought of hunger. Mr. Brinsmade was silent, leaning back in the comer of the carri^, and Virginia absorbed in her own thoughts. Drawing near the city, that dreaded sound, the rumble of drums, roused them. A shot rang out, and they were jerked violentiy by the startinr of the horses. As they dashed across Walnut at Seventti came the fusillade. Vir- ginia leaned out of the window. Down the vista of the street was a mass of blue uniforms, and a film of white smoke hanging about the columns of the old Presbyterian Church. Mr. Brinsmade quietly drew her back into the carriage. The shots ceased, giving place to an angry roar that struck terror to her heart that wet and lowering afternoon. The powerful black horses galloped on, Nicodemus tugging at the reins, and great splotches of mud flying in at the windows. The roar of the crowd died to an ominous moaning behind them. Then she knew that Mr. Brins- made waa speaking : — "From l»ttle and murder, and from sudden death— from all sedition, privy conspiracy, and rebellion, — Good Lord, deliver us." He was repeating the Litany — that Litany which had come down through the ages. They had chanted it in IN THE ARSENAL ^ dark, barricaded steWavs of mJi^^i p "?**^ ^* °" ^« Bartholomew's nighrwTn if ''''*^ ^f™» *h'0"«I» St. ran with bW fheV^d chanf^H^^^ '"^ .^^^^^^ ^^^^^^ now it was heard Z^in^?h«v ^^^l^^"* I«dia, and Republic of Pe^e afd gL Wilf ^ ^"'^*^ '^"^ ^^« New go^^ntTeLm^'Mtet^K^^ *^^ --'^ -»^-I^ the traitor^o ^n^tor2th\^ ^"^^^t .^^ ^^e a three ware? S/^ r sh« K ^T^ ^ 'o^gbt in from the book Oh To* kS^ *'"™?'^ to blot it forever a ^P^w?^^^^^ '^^'^ ^^y^ ^ wL' her ownTteD8^^!r? i^ ^^'- ^rinamade escorted her up bade her t^f-«^%t,^r^«^^^^^^ a little at partingt'anS of the trial shfWs to J; .ff^Ti^ ^"^^^5 something her aunt, 0^^^ mofher "S^^ p^?* "'^i^* ^«°« ^itf directly home Hfi^.?^* « V . v ^"ns»nade did not go to his/ Mriri?e and iud'^t wi-' ^1"^^ ^""«« '^^^t dcSr What passed betw«tn fJ ^! J^^'?P^® ^®'« »° the parlor. presentee jXe and M? Brin'' ^^ °'* ^^° ^^^"t and sto^ a Wfa^me in th« "i^'"**^® °*?« °"t together the rain. ^ ^ "" ^^ ^^^^ conversing, heedfess of ^^^--Wi^r^ CHAPTER XXI THK STAMPEDE Sunday dawned, and the people flocked to the churches. But even in the house of God were dissension and strife. From the Carvel pew at Dr. Posthelwai.e's Virginia saw men and women rise from their knees and walk out their faces pale with anger. At St. Mark's the prayer for the President of the United States was omitted. Mr. Russell and Mr. Catherwood nodded approvingly over the sermon in which the South was justified, and the sanction of Holy Writ laid upon her Institution. With not indif- ferent elation these gentlemen watched the departure of brethren with whom thev had labored for many years, save only when Mr. Brinsmade walked down the aisle never to return. So it is that war, like a devastating flood, creeps insistent into the most sacred places, and will not be denied. Mr. Davitt, at least, f cached that day to an united congregation, — which is to say that none of them went out. Mr. Hopper, who now shared a pew with Miss Crane, listened as usual with a most reverent attention. The clouds were low and the streets wet as people walked home to dinner, to discuss, many in passion and some in sorrow, the doings of the morning. A certain clergyman had prayed to be delivered from the Irish, the Dutch, and the Devil. Was it he who started the old rumor which made such havoc that afternoon ? Those barbarians of the foreign citv to the south, drunk with power, were to sack and loot the city. How it flew across street and alley, from yard to yard, and from house to house I Privileged Ned ran into the dining-room where Virginia and her aunt were sitting, his eyes rolling and his face ashen with terror, crying out that the Dutch were marching on the city, firebrands in hand and murder in Uieir hearts. SIO THE STAMPEDE 3^^ he\H:d^"''^Betll^Zr P'^^'r^^o^^ Mia. Jinny/' ain't make ^u dear out 'dLT' ^^^^ ^ ^'^ «^he a-rattlin' off to de count^'?" ''^^ * ^°" ^"^^ ^« ^"•"dges tolm^iX;X^ht^& TtlS^^ ^^. ^^^^^ and upon her alone. Thft wS L *?* household depended bv generations^- the Je^v of th^r^^\^^^ '^ her blest slave whose CS ani^w "ir^^j*^' *^^ ^^^ ^'^^- you leave ms hWiTh.^™ ^>.'»3'= 'Whaffor What I ewineter ^„er? 0?r?''r ^ ^^ ^^^f' up de ahutte™ aWSe'Sifonefc •?» "« " i"' P« By thw time the room was filled IHi.' . •. j some c^ing, and some lauZng Wete^?°'%^T "f^^"' had come in from the kitcfim • w^ y-, '''"='« ^en women were a w^Unf W^i,' -t"" "" *««- ""d the board. OU EpCTmS^ti^jS^TjT^f ''J ""e eide- Vii^nia-s eye rested' uZtf^em' ^d S'^,^8'*''*'- affection was in it. She w«.T;^^C "'*.''?'" <>' 'o™ and riages wero indeed WtUtoJ^jLde tLri^""^ ^«' «^ M. lUnault •^nZtSufcLVrrSn^^tuiirg 'l| ^^i^^'tri^*:' 312 THE CBISI8 excitedly. Sppng her at the window, he put his hands to his mouth, cned out something, and ran in again. Vil^ ginia flung open the sash anf listened for Se dreaded sound of drums. Then she crossed quickly over to where her aunt was l^ng on the lounge. «« wuere "O Jinny; murmured that lady, who had revived, TS!''*^n\?V°°*"*^°«^ Haven't you done anytSng They wdl be here anv moment to bum us, to murder us h7a «;;7i, f ^ZE^"" ^l^ ^^y "°'* ^« l^^re to protect his mother I Why was Comyn so senseless, so thoughtlew! as to leave us at such a time I " "guwess, V,Cin1^'''*S'"^ ^^^^ " *."^ °®«^ ^ ^ frightened," said IZ ^T.*^ * °*^f ?f~ ^^"^ "»*^^ h«' aunt tremble with wi^r. "It IS probably only a rumor. Ned, run to Mr. Briusmade's and ask him about it." f^ ^i?J®''®[i?*^^ ^ 8^°' ^^^ departed at once. All honor dJr^l t'^""^ "T*^' ''^'* *™ '^^'^ memories, whose devotion to their masters was next to their love of God A great fear was m Ned's heart, but he went. And he beheved devoutly that he would never see his younj? mk tress any more. ^ *> And while Ned is running to Mr. Briusmade's, Mrs. Col- fax 18 summoning that courage which comes to pereons of her character at such times. She gathers her jewels into a k ^'^ u?®*" fi?e^^?8se8 into her trunk, with trembling S.^t''?^^''^ " "7^ '°°"^^ °°^- '^^ Pict^ of ofh«r^nJ^ v'^'^r^^-n"^^ ***« P"*« iuside the waist of her gown. No, she will not go to Bellegarde. That is too ne,^ the city With franticliaste she cWthe toun? which Ephum and Jackson carry downstairs and place be- tween the seats of the carriage. Ned had had the horses in it «nce church time It is not safe outside. But where togo? To G encoe ? It is three in the afternoon, and Jack! on explains that^ with the load, they would nit reach S ™.^l^JfK'^^*'iV*^,^- T^Kirkwood or Webster? Yes; r?Z 1*^^-^** **^^^ ^^^« *^«'«' »"d ^ould take them m for the riight. Equipages of all sorts are passing, - private carnages and pubUc, and comer-stand hacks. The black drivers are cracking whips over galloping horses. THE STAMPEDE 3^3 river comes the hoa«eThi!Jle nf .K ^*f!^*'«"- ^ ron, the Sabbath stillness ttZ It ?. . *-^® *^.*** breaking the Vii^nia leTed Zinsfc 1 Cn' ' -r*^ ^'^^r^hefed. j;atch?ng the scene^d waitfn^^r ^^'a^ ^^ ^« «*«?»' Mr. Brinsmade's. Her faT^fi ^f^S** *** '**""» '^ ^' The most alanine. re^Tf^i^"**^*-^'."" ^«" »* '"^ht the street, and sCh^l^rivZ^^ °"'^ "/ *^ ^^'^ ^'om jmoke of destruction to apla^T^th?r?»? ^!; *^« ^^*<^J^ her were gathered the (SS^^Jo V°"*^™^- Ground ^g. and Imploring her ^ott^V*"*"'.?*^' ^^ ^^^^^^ c^- Mrs. Colfax's trunf wL bToL^t T^ ^^T' , ^"^ ^^^n carriage where three Ttherm^-^hfr »"^.,P^»«ed in the a groan of despair and eZ^Ji^ * ndden to safety, group that wen? to he? he^**^ "^ ^"^"^ ^^ ^aithfS and ^f ^^ ™^®^^- ^^~ and get another carriage.'^ case witfi the necklacrS ^iT w^i l^'**^^ jewellenr mother had worn at her wedZ^ p^ il®' great^rani Easter were of no use iLI «bl i?"^ ^T*? *°** ^a'""^ again. With a flSSr ah« nn^^/l°* *^"'" downstaiii to take one last look a? th« IwSTv!^ ^^' wardrobe door, her. They were naVnfK^^ You will pardon down onlrSeK ^S fhT «T> «^« ^«» bottom, and there on tLS fJ^? ^5^** ^'^^ at the had belonged to Dorothv M^L^ ^\ ^*'°*>^ ?«^n which of the flowera of thHtL I^^^^^ ^^' ^«" "PO" one mind the memory of AMe'sW^^^^^ ^Tf.^ '''^ her episode by the eSe unnn ^if- ?°f3^,^?«« ball, -of the ^th burning faS ^ ""^^^^ ^^^ ^ *h«"ght so often Sh?i: S^^'te" fr S:^l'"\«^^ ?- -^ hear. It was her A-gi^roth^r^f^rc^ef heiL^ ^/.F^' ll ♦er 'li^i^ A.-W dU THE CRISIS the pearls. Silk and satin from Parii are loft behind. With one glanoe at the bed in which she had slept sinoe ohildhcwd, and at the picture over it which had been her mother s, she hurries downstairs. And Dorothy Mannen*s gown IS under her arm. On the landing she stops to brush her eyes with her handkerchief. If only her father were here I ^ w^^' !??™ " ^^^ **°^ *fif**°- ^^ M'- Brinsmade come? What did he say ? Ned simplv pointed out a young man standing on the steps behind the negroes. Crimson stains were on Virginia's cheeks, and the package she carried under her arm was like lead. The young man, although he showed no sijgns of excitement, reddened too as he came forward and^took oflf his hat. But the sight of him had a curious effect upon Virginia, of which she was at first unconscious. A sense of security came upon her as she looked at his face and listened to his voice. " Mr. Brinsmade has gone to the hospital, Miss Carvel," he said. " Mrs. Brinsmade asked me to come here with your mar m the hope that I might persuade you to stav where you are." '^ j j "Then the Oermans are not moving on the citv?" she said. ^ In spite of himself, Stephen smiled. It was that smile that angered her, that made her rebel against the advice he hiMl to oflfer; that made her forget the insult he had risked at her hands by coming there. For she believed him utterly, without reservation. The moment he had spoken she was convinced that the panic was a silly scare which would be food for merriment in future years. And yet — was not that smile in derision of herself— of her friends who were running away? Was it not an assump- tion of Northern superiority, to be resented ? " It is only a malicious rumor. Miss Carvel," he answered. " You have been told so upon good authority, I suppose," she said dryly. And at the change in her tone she saw his face fall. "I have not," he replied honestly, «but I will submit it to your own judgment. Yesterday General Harney super- THE STAMPEDE 3,^ ^n.''l!'^!^^Zj''^Zt' Z^'' f'^"^- Some *^l» away, to avoidT fmSS n * 9?*"*"^ *<> •«n "»' the city to relS Zm." ^ **" '" °''°"8'> "8^« » %hrSth^eot^T.r,'3t"si''™p'y'-;«^^ ninning on his black tace perapiration N<^" no&^'do5;^"^"^'>8« *-^^in this town. In the iidstof S^^h^v, "^'.,"°°* ^ """^ them, the carriaee. whew jS. 1* ^/"1 ''*'' """t calling from for her t^quXtk ^" *° *""*' '^"^ ^ M room hJ^Sot^::rblj;J^.^±T''^° «». Stephen. Ha if ue, Dui was still standing m the rain on the steps. I' I i. If 5i; i ; ( ♦"*! 316 THE CRISIS the one figure of 8ti;ength and coolness she had seen this afternoon. Distracted, she blamed the fate which had made this man an enemy. How willingly would she have leaned upon such as he, and submitted to his guidance. U^uckily at that moment came down the street a eroup which had been ludicrous on any other day, and was, iS truth, ludicrous to Stephen then. At the hid of it wis a little gentleman with red mutton^jhop whiskers, hatless, in spite of the ram beginning to faU. His face was the veiv cancature of terror. His clothes, usually neat, were awr/, and his arms were full of various things, not the least con- spicuous of which was a magnificent bronze clock. It was this object that caught Virginia's eye. But yeare passed before she laughed over it. Behind Mr. Cluyme ffor it was he) trottel^tCk^^^ thebox .:th Ned. mav follow. Ephum v?u atev t ^""Z^ 'f ***** *h« 'est bun'S^unleThe?:^ steoTl^fS^ P--« Httle Heedless of the ^h^L^SF^^ '5*°. *^^ carriage, to the carriage d^^''^^^'*^^*^«'»««nt?tephen sWlWappy^' "* ^^ """^''^ ^ CarveV he said, "I She glanced at him wildly. no, she cried, « no. Drive on Nflri f » doo^rfnrt^:^-^ ^"^^^ anVs-iSl slammed the -STeZirXl"^^^^^ -hit« atones chocolate water into fmJhanrAi ^^^ i^P" ?«1*«<1 the bluils beyond the IIW'.^..* ^^?® "^^^^ hid t^e distent levee rich^^dpSDrS^fn^*^'""^^^ ^«^»'«« the and would bave'r;S.^;fe^%^^^^^^^^ been no boats to save S 7i^i*^®/''*'** had there Attib and his Haas wei^ not L^,™ *?« l^f^^ed D«t<5h. xiiaimne were not more fearud. Oh, the mystery 4 318 THE CRISIS of that foreim city I What might not its Barbarians do when roused? The rich and poor struggled together; but money was a power that day, and many were pitilessly turned off because they did not have the high price to carry them — who knew where ? Boats which screamed, and boats which had a dragon's roar were backing out of the close ranks where they had stood wheel-house to wheel-house, and were dodging and bumping in the channel. See, their guards are black with people I Mrs. Colfax, when they are come out of the narrow street into the great open space, remarks this with alarm. All the boats will be gone before they can get near one. But Virginia does not answer. She is thinkmg of other things than the steamboats, and wondering whether It had not been preferable to be killed by Hessians. Ned spies the Barbara Lane. He knows that her cap- tain, Mr. Vance, is a friend of the family. What a mighty contempt did Ned and his kind have for foot- pasfcngers I Laying about him with his whip, and shout- \ng at the top of his voice to make himself heard, he sent the Colonel's Kentucky bays through the crowd down to t\ie Barbara' % landing stage, the people scampering to the nght and left, and the Carvel servants, headed by Uncle Ben, hanging on to the carriage springs, trailing behind. Here was a triumph for Ned, indeed I He will tell you to this day how Mr. Catherwood's carriage was pocketed by drays and bales, and how Mrs. James's horses were seized by the bridles and turned back. Ned had a head on his shoulders, and eyes in his head. He spied Captain Vance himself on the stage, and bade Uncle Ben hold to the horses while he shouldered his way to that gentleman. The result was that the Captain came bowing to the car- riage door, and offered his own cabin to the ladies. But the niggers — he would take no niggers except a maid for each ; and he begged Mrs. Colfax's pardon — he could not carry her trunk. So Virginia chose Mammy Easter, whose red and yellow turban was awry from fear lest she be left behind; and Ned was instructed to drive the rest with all haste to THE STAMPEDE ant^r^ia h% V ^^« ^- Colfax his am, loualyas the boat was cLtoff It w^ «Tjann^ prodig. he could tum an oath better ttian If ^'^ ""^^^ thS M« TS° ""^ reputato *°^ """^ °° «»e river. g;dcUe/a„d floateHo^lf ri::J^r^^^ ? ^ ^-^«- for siMals of a conflaijration jJat • ^"^H anxiously wished that the city mi jrbZ Q^V'-" *>* ^^^^ «he us may at times desire mW^ .^ '* ^*^** *he best of jahce may be fed. vS W«T?°^ *^** «^ own flame creep along the wet ^ J f ^®^^ ^ «ee the yeUow Paye to hfr eyef af th^'^Jh^^^hf o'i^th ^^^^.^ ^ tea™ had suflPered,-and before A^mof^f?' humUiation she ever hve with her aunt after wL 1 ^ ?®''' Co"W she ^n^^on with that Yankee » The ho^t?'^.^^ • " ^ariy! h« K i r«^^^' *««' was stiU ag-abs? S^nK '"^""5°^ °' ^^^ ^ he had been sent bv cirrnm!? ^^tephen. Once more people. If the city wStl^f S ^ "^^^ ^^^ and her judgment might for Z^ }u» ^ ?1™' *^at his cocksure once broken T ^''"^ ^ mistaken, his calmness ?or At Art tV^^^^^^^^ ¥^<^ *^e - turned the western flood of%ht, I^d,ta!rh^"°" ^^^^^ tom-lands. Not a sound l«»raini •toadjly up the eur«nt.Tthou.S i '■? T ^«P' 'w bow biMuit-tose of the leader of thf,,^ ^ f^ ""Wn a Jben that Captain Vauoe-s'llaf^tZlpSbollZ the^ butch." ^'''''* **^« her nght into the jaws of I t i A 322 THE CRISIS gentlemen who had begun to be shamefaced over their panic, and these went in a body to the Captain and asked him to communicate with the Juanita. Whereupon a certain number of whistles were sounded, and the Bar- harass bows headed for the other side of the channel. As the Juanita drew near, Vijyinia saw the square figure and clean, smooth-shaven nee of Captain Lige standing in front of his wheel-house. Peace crept back into her soul, and she tingled with joj as the bells clanged and the bucket-planks churned, and the great New Orleans packet crept slowlv to the Barbara't side. " You ain't goin* in, Brent ? *^ shouted the Barbara' 9 captain. "Why not?" responded Mr. Brent. At the sound of his voice Virginia could have wept. " The Dutch are sa6king the city," said Vance. ♦' Didn't they tell you?" " The Dutch — hell I " said Mr. Brent, cahnly. " Who's afraid of the Dutch ? " A general titter went along the guards, and Virginia blushed. Why could not the Captain see her? "Tm on my reg'lar trip, of course," said Vance. Out there on the sunlit river tiie situation seemed to call for an apology. " Seems to be a little more loaded than common," re- marked Captain Lige, dryly, at which there was another general laugh. "If you're really goin' up," said Captain Vance, "I reckon there's a few here would like to be massacred, if you'll take 'em." " Certainly," answered Mr. Brent ; " I'm bound for the harheeue.^' And he gave a command. While the two great boats were manceuvring, and slashing with one wheel and the other, the gongs sound- ing, Virginia ran into the cabin. "Oh, Aunt Lillian," she exckimed, "here is Captain Lige and the Juanita, and he is going to take us back with him. He says there is no danger. It is unnecessary here to repeat the moral persuasion THE STAMPEDE «^ WM at the other end. Hi, w'l.vW" £'«« '''"«« people «8ide, he rushed ae^ tSlAtt. , ^'"t'"» "" negro", anna, crying • _ ™* "matched the lady from the .toutiah gentleman dipped o"? Ll ^„„"V^' !""'«»• » e»rpet-bag in hia hand It t^^ It ."?noti;:'^? """"»'»• hy^^'s^ligt:!^; ««^-^wa ra He never knew why she bloahed «, farfouriy. i H CHAPTER XXII I THE STEAINING OP ANOTHER FRIENDSHIP Captain Lige asked but two questions: where was the Colonel, and was it true that Clarence had refused to be paroled? Though not possessing over-fine suscepti- bilities, the Captain knew a mud-^iim from a laay's watch, as he himself said. In his solicitude for Virginia, he saw that she was in no state of mind to talk of the occurrences of the last few days. So he helped her to climb the little stair that winds to the top of the texas, -—that sanctified roof where the pilot-house squats. The girl clung to her bonnet. Will you like her any the less when you know that it was a shovel bonnet, with long red ribbons that tied under her chin ? It became her wonderfully. " Captain Lige," she said, almost tearfully, as she took his arm, "how I thank heaven that you came up the river this afternoon I " "Jinny," said the Captain, "did you ever know why cabins are called ttateroomtf" " Why, no," answered she, puzzled. " There was an old fellow named Shreve who ran steam- boats before Jackson fought the redcoats at New Orleans. In Shreve's time the cabins were curtained off, just like these new-fangled sleeping-car berths. The old man built wooden rooms, and he named them after the different states, Kentuck, and Illinois, and Pennsylvania. So that when a fellow came aboard he'd say : ' What ttate am I m, Cap ? ' And from this river has the ^^ame spread all over the world — stateroom. That's mighty interettina," said Captain Lite. "Yes," said Virginia; "why didn't you tell me long ago ? " wo 884 ^ STB.n,U,0 0. ^OTHEH ™^„SHIP S2S ; f AKicaui notiZ'ta:^!^: r' £?i "O" Tuft, got tut <.u?^o^i& 2s ?»p,ss "r 'rt-t ''"'■ H'- *„ waa very much the «me^l„, *o' ''^'' ''^oceros. It lengths, ike a worn!^tm„p°f- >,;,"'' Kf^^led h«r waa a " wgle's olaw, and hia & " i"""^ reminded one of greeted only such people aTh, Tl" * P'°« /eUow. He eye^Wtion, a™ mto^"T^ '*''• "^-^-hly. -how i. the WiUiajn abandoned himaelf f„ i . "He snya that you are the W?7i 1* qualificationa." don^t believe it," Lid vJr^i^'* ^^"* °° *^« "ver. but I William cackled airain ««* j leather-padded seat af the ^Xoftht ^^. ^?' ^«' «° «»e for a longtime she sat starwl fu**? P'^°* ^^"se* where jackstaff between tS iS^|,* V^^ ^« trembKng on thl down^ but his light linS^d Tt^ ^-^l T^« '"'^ fell boat forged abreast thffo^^ *i^L*^' l^ove « the big There was the arsena] «,^^ ? °**7 ^^ South St. Louis qmof trip againat the S" '*'"''• "We've made,' I < f 'rfl 326 THE CRISIS *^j f 'T* J ^I?' ™®° *^°°8 ^® ^«^«« ^•»«i that siffnal and laughed. The joke was certainly not on tturdy Elijah isrenta An hour later, Virginia and her aunt and the Captain, foUowed bv Mammy Easter and Rosetta and Susan, were walking through the streeto of the stillest city in the Union. All that they met was a provost's guard, for St Louw was under Martial Law. Once in a while they saw the hght of some contemptuous citizen of the resi- dence district who had stayed to Uugh. Out in the sub- urbs, at the country houses of the first famiUes, people of distinction slept five and six in a room — many with only a quilt between body and matting. Little wonder that these dreamed of Hessians and destruction. In town they slept with their doors open, those who remained and had faith. Mart-a law means passes and explanations, and walking generally in the light of day. Martial law means that the Commander-in-chief, if he be an artist in well doing, may use his boot freely on poUticiana bland or beetle- browed. No police force ever gave the sense of security inraired by a provost's guard. Captain Lige sat on the steps of Colonel Carvel's house that night, long after the ladies were gone to bed. The only sounds breaking the silence of the city were the beat of the feet of the marching squads and the call of the cor- poral s relief. But the Captain smoked in agony until the clouds of two days sUpped away from under the stars, for he was trying to decide a Question. Then he went up to a room in the house which had been known as his since the rafters were put down on that floor. The next morning, as the Captain and Virginia sit at breakfast together with only Mammy Eaater to cook and Kosetta to wait on them, the Colonel bursts in. He is dusty and travel-stained from his night on the train, but his gray eves Ught with ailection as he sees his friend beside his daughter. « Jinny," he cries as he kisses her, « Jinny, I'm proud of you, my girl I You didn't let the Yankees frighten you. But where is Jackson ? '* » ^ THE OTIUmmG OF ANOTHER PEIEND8HIP 327 conversation and he refuJa^hp nL \T?^ £*'* »° the he"s2d' "^^But^tWnWutu^M ^^r^- that's sure," City isn't precisely aSet Th« ? .^*' '^'°°^- Jefferson or Will have ^^ ^litla I ??^ ^ f"* '""'^ "^^^^tia, miss the thousand tC stole in r!^ ""'t ^T^' ^« ^«°'t organizing np^theT^ A^a i^ ^"^P ^''^^^''' They're What-, this 1 hea/Zuf cL«„.^V^""- ™ «° '»'«'• CoJoTlL'^J'i'litt* """"""f" of Saturday. The to go for Woriii»S,n V^r'-' » ^11 that we have to do is AndwithSoA^o^Ieft'if, ,^ ^'" ^ ~'°" "«•" «o. the, heard the r^ K^bS hii". 'S^S" !*• 1==^ 926 THE CBISI8 friS^^f fi,^ L;°' daughter dared in that hour add to tha Ih^i I *^* "^i? by speaking out the dread that mm'm their hearte. The dolonel smoked f >r a while, not a word . A * . . ^^! ™" ^^^' »*"* see RuMell, Jinnv" he •aid, striving to be cheerful. " We mustwt the bS^ out J ^*h^Xk'to"h^ -^pped abruptly Tthe a rd perea to himself, " if I could only go to Silas I " nie good Colonel got Mr. Russell, and they went to Mr. Worington, Mrs. Colfax's Uwyer, of wh^ wlitic^ It IS not necessary to speak. There wi plent^f «ciS^ issuea tne wnt. There lacked not gentlemen of influenofi WeTtd't'r''" '^'^" *°^ C?ronel°c\"rvd"aSnh: lawyer and the Commissioner to the Arsenal. Thev were admitted to the presence of the indomitable Lyon, X iniormed them that Captain Colfax was a prisoner of Tar and, since the arsenal was Government property, noT^V^ dav?fiS;-p?' Commissioner thereupon atteSSd^ hTaffi^ iTZ'^lriX''^ "^"^ ''"* ""' *^^"^^*^°° ^°' ^' These things the Colonel reported to Virginia; and to sand quenes as to whether that Yankee rufean would Tv uphold ; whether the Marshal would not be cwt over the ^rve7he":^t'^ tS'"^^ '' ^%^^^-^ when he Tntt S^J of f^^iS ?^^ "^^ °''* *h« language, but the pur- ES?'a Lt' l^K% ^"^*!°°f • , ColonSl dkrvel had mJe but a light breakfast : he had had no dinner, and little rest on t'Le train. But he answered his sister-in-law ^th "^•^k'?^ coj^tesy. He was too honest to express! h^De which he did not feel. He had returned that^ evening to J^^Z ^°r^°ld« „^"^°«^ ^h« ^''y ^^^ serva^tTiad stra^led in from Bellegarde, and Virginia had had pre- parecT those dishes which her father loved. Mrs Co&ax &ful ""ILt' '^^"^ ''' J'^^^ ^^« *-« werTsSenUy tnankful. Jackson announced supper. The Colonel wi THE STRAINIXO OF ANOTHER FRIENDSHIP .,29 •y«i M he took his chair Sl^^S?® ^^ yearning in her caurht her fcreaat whenTTe aTw ^t Jhll^' *^*?- ^he lay ontouohed. "^* *"* '<>«1 on his plate Hr***^J'lH^^^"'*«'»Itered. -he haS^vt'^:"*^' *"''^' '"^^^ •"ff^""^ in his looK . ;:DM,heteU,oi^.^Jtehef^^^^^^^^^^ he4^t St;t:VL%h&^ "fV^ ">^- tf. t "It ia because he lovi yoJ pWn'^'^'^? ''^ ' ' firently, " it is because he wX- ^^"^"^ *^' *f''^' He said nothing to thaf vT^ • • softlv around the table Sh«^*^T «^°* "P' »»<* ^ent "fa I" ^'®- ®^® ^®"»e« %hta "W didn't I raiae you? Haven't t » ... my houae waa your hoie» ri^f k 1'*°?''* yo» that but never epeat to meZam „?^t'^^ '^'P- B"t_ waiting for J^ " ■»« "W"" of thia night f Jinny fa 3«tat'.tU':"*i?t!^.^^ro?t^"'," '!»y -» "P the 3«or wa. auufoXl^vLitlL '".' '"."'e entrj the Oh, P.. I knew you would bSng him back." die «ud. ^'^^. m-' :.! i^MMM ii^ ^-^■j'^*^ CHAPTER XXIII OF CLABENCE the conversation of a bilnit! H- *■■« "»"? topics oJ Colfax kept her room, and admitted only f few of fa"; 88S OP CLARENCE ^^ presence. ** * ^" admitted to h^r aunt's X"of ct^..""* ''«-^<=»- bJ;^s'„.^*t! han'l-'i'ntn.t^hX^o'? Z PT"""'' J--^ ^-d her snored the shalfown^ c' W .S .h '' *'?*"' 'b* h«« d«ys. But now Mrs ColW. i "haracter in happier ecy with it. VirS; B^d^l ""l""'. """'^ • P^oph- on. the years to cfmT-on tie ~in''!h'*'""°« '"r-^e' bring with them from thiaUree^'^if'^ *"* ^'^^y ^ war , her father gone (for^e IpTS f!"' «""« ^ tl>e the end). Virgin^ foi^w the li„.l V* *"'''<' «" '•> company with thia vain wLan .i " ^ ^T °' «»' in couffln-a mother. /raT mor. f^? f "r"' "■«'J» h" mother of the man she wL. ,„ ** '"^ """'« b" the aoaroely bear thXSXTTth'^J'X The girl could of the eventa of two LL .h. S*'^? the hurry and awing But now-Clarenr,3o L''™l^S" 'i?" ""er mind* would be coming home tn K*., L *^f ^f8«a- To-morrow he »b« did not love^hfrn'st :;^^{^"Jiy ^f 5'^ 'T^^^' ^'^^ and ^i«. She had cheated^Wlf 1 ^ ^**'? ^^'^^ *8^»° other feelings. She hadZ nn f^f ^f" *°^ *8^»»» ^ith the shrine where it did noTbelo„a"'^'.°ri'^ ^^^^^^y in for a while. She saw Clarp^i« ^' ^"'l'* ^'^^ answered - a fatal intimate L?wlete"^i\* ^^^^o's light -until back. And vet W . i^- ^^^ shudder and draw She woufd"car^\^4ro;^!'"" ^^'^"^'^ '^^^ I- waSr fe .J*>^^^ 834 THE CRISIS Captain Li«j 8 ohaery voice roused her from below — and her father's laugh. And a. she went down to them 8he thanked God that this friend had been spared to hiiT l7nl^ . w ^fP*^"'* ."^«' 7"°" been'^better told than at the table that evening. Virginia did not see him to her f^e ** ^"^ ^* ^'^ ^""""^^^ * *™»" " I'm going to leave Jmny with you, Lige," said Mr Carvel presently. « Woiington has i>me notion that the ^^n'f^Ti^.K' Anenal to-night with the writ. I iiiustn t neglect the .. ,y.*' Viivinia stood in front of him. tr'^^ ^°" let me go ?" lOie pleaded. af hi® ^T^ ^ **^*° *****'^' "« «*««d 4«ral^^r11.r;zx.^'"^i?eVif'r^"^ " Rescued ! " /"""if looi i We had him rescued." <^'"^\^^^^^^^^ Andalot around. When we saw 'em T^!! ^ ^' '^**'® standing and had the guard ov*rVw^rSl,T?' 7/ '^^ ^^ ^"«^ to stand back." ^^^Po^ered. But Colfax called out "Well, sir." aprisonerandgo^^tTe' ^n ht»'.r»P-^ ^ «^n There was a silence. Thi-- star^dT walterttTa^'C'tf T'^^ '^"^ *^«^ Colonel together. VirS^ia nut h t ^T^f" *°d *»»« Captain's arm. In the t of one^nd- himseff. He tWh^o7'i^""^• ^' ^'^' ^^« '^^ng taken her on ^S and ki^^:?^!, "**^">' ^^"^^ ^^ ^«^ do tliat no mZ ^ ThprL ^\' ^*"- »« ™igi»t prisoner on the gr^t blJ^S^ Jt!.l^? >?^Sr C^Ptain, a e «.v uuoK nver, who had a better right. 386 THE CRISIS £r^th« wi ''^"^^'^i " *^«y ^>ted in the silent street for the lonely car, if Chirenoe loved her as well as he uranf "''^ ""tf^ ^^ "^^f" ^^y "^^"^ ^ome, and Vinrinia went silently up to her room. Colonel Carvel sW t^^ihin^ht' *t{: «^«^ ,1^ friend as he t'S fhJ^*' T ^»*i" «la°*in9 o^e' tl»e tops of the houses the next morning when Virginia, a ghoSy fiimre c^ down the stairs and withdrewTe IcSk and hSi in tTe of^'SUr- A^t 'J^* ™ »^"^» "^« ^«' the twittering hTstnel^^^nl?^^^^ She sat long behind the curtains in her father's littlp ibrary, the thoughts whirliuK in her brain asX watched i^' f,'''''''^ ^^l of pother d^y. Whatwo^dhS forth? Once she stole so =t.ly bi^k to the entry, sel? indulgent and anhamed, to ie«r«» again the b tterTnd the sweet of that scene of tiie Sunda/before She Hum t^J^^f '? ^"'?* ^^ ^^' ^righteoed servants She seemed to feel again the cab power and eamestnesn nf h!« a T vl' ^^®° **** ^' ^ ^^^ frightened, into the sombre librarv, conscience-stricken that she sCld have yielded to this temptation then, wh«i Cl^rW- TK? f A® "*"'°J,«^ ^ angry river and the dark ni^M This had haunted her. If he iere spared, she nrave?for table and Vircrmia took refuge in it. And her eves, glancing over tHe pages, rested on this verse ?1 ^^ That beat to battle where he stands ; 1 by faee acron his fancy comes. And gives the battle to his hands." OP CLARENCE Til ^^ not a, alert then as now rll™ i r. N«w.pape„ were to the A,«„., i„ „.»„7- Cdonel Cartel wj.'^ff -'j^ ot Viiginia'g goinir with fc!». *!; ™ """Id not hear i'^„r,'^s.*- -"« '^the'"™™,^"^" i^8«. with": siumenje 1 Twice Viivini. ^I ^"' • morninB of »nent north to Alton or Columbus. My dear, you wish to rescue him, to disguise him, send him south by way of Colonel Carvel's house at Glencoe. Then he will be killed. At least, he will have died for the South. First politics, and then war, and then more politics, in this our country. Your masterful politician obtains a regiment, and goes to war, sword in hand. He fights well, but he is still the politician. It was not a case merely of fighting for the Union, but first of getting per- mission to fight. Camp Jackson taken, and the prisoners exchanged south. Captain Lyon, who moved like a whirl- INTRODUCING A CAPITALIST 341 ttuit tiir,L'!'' ^tTj^^^^^^^ '-'' -" ^^^^^ - into between the Governor and tSfolTrV^^^. ^"^^^^^^ command of the Western Department f "^'^^ ^^^*^^ ^" other. A trick for the Rebel? H V *"* ""^"P^^* ^^cJ' paced the Arsenal walks while hp^''-\k°" chafed, and state. Then two ^PnfL ^ ™'Srht have saved tlie the next th"nr?hft Wn? 7°*^ *« Washington, and Lyon, Comman^de o the^Ctt^:"'. ^?^t^^^^ «^»«r«l Would General iJn^ ^^epartment of the West. Missouri? Yes, the &ener.T'' T/'^- '^^ ^^^^^nor of safe-conduct into St Loufs h„rr^i^'T, '^^ Governor a to the General. His SlWv ' ^^^«"«««y n^n«t come deigned to go with the Uninn^l'T' ^"^ *^^ ^'^n^^al House. Conference, five W« ^"^^^^,,*« the Planters' for the Governor 'back And tv"^'' \«^f«-«onduct Lyon ended the talk H,« ^ a ^^'^ '^ ^^^ General by a Confederate cobne?wCt;n^^ lency, deserve to be writ in liT^^^^'l. *"« ^^^^1" Annals. "^"^ '" Sold on the National righftlmtVtrttv'L^^^^^ ''''' of Mi3,,,,i the troops within her Hmits ^or br?na "f'"^ '^."" "«^ ^^^^^^ whenever it pleases -or 'ov^^?^ *'°^P" ^°*« *he state into, out of, or thr^uSi thr« !. ^'^^^^'l ^* ^*« «^n ^i" to the state of Missouri' for on. I' ' f'-"' *^^° ^«"««d« to dictate to my Government ir^' '°'**"* *^^ ^^^ht unimportant, I would^^7r?Jn '" /°3^ . "tatter, however every^one in the room^) '4ee vlf /"^^"^^"^ ^" *"^° *« you, and every min! woman a^nd'^M ^^"V^"^ ^«"' ^^^ and buried." Then tiJ^nW; ?u ??'^^ '"^ ^^^^ «tate, dead " This means war In an^ hour'n ''r^' ^' '""*^""^^' ofttehrtt^dTp^hrh^^^^^^^^ room j^ttling his spurs S ctukfug^fs Se' ^"* ^' *^^ itallt'ar wa?l^n^"d^a1 ^^^^d^r^^^^^^^^^^^ ^^om- the oaks on BloodrMlintfhe^^^^J^^ ^ 11 : Jr^-^i 342 THE CRISIS this Union, had God spared him, we shall never know. He saved Missouri, and won respect and love from the brave men who fought against him. Those first fierce battles in the state I What prayers rorje to heaven, and curses sank to hell, when the news of them came to the city by the river I Flags were made by loving fingers, and shirts and bandages. Trembling young ladies of Union sympathies presented colors to regiments on the Arsenal Green, or at Jefferson Bar- racks, or at Camp Benton to the northwest near the Fair Grounds. And then the regiments marched through the streets with bands playing that march to which the words of the Battle Hymn were set, and those bright ensigns snapping at the front ; bright now, and new, and crimson. But soon to be stained a darker red, and rent into tatters, and finally brought back and talked over and cried over ; and tenderly laid above an inscription in a glass case, to be revered by generations of Americans to come. What can stir the soul more than the sight of those old flags, standing in ranks like the veterans they are, whose duty has been nobly done? The blood of the color-sergeant is there, black now with age. But where are the tears of the sad women who stitched the red and the white and the blue together ? The regiments marched through the streets and aboard the boats, and pushed off before a levee of waving hand- kerchiefs and flags. Then heart-breaking suspense. Later — much later, black headlines, and grim lists three col- umns long, — three columns of a blanket sheet I " The City of Alton has arrived with the following Union dead and wounded, and the following Confederate wounded (prisoners)." Why does the type run together? In a never-ceasing procession they steamed up the river; those calm boats which had been wont to carry the white cargoes of Commerce now bearing the red cargoes of war. And they bore away to new battle- fields thousands of fresh-faced boys from Wisconsin and Michigan and Minnesota, gathered at Camp Benton. Some came back w^ith their color gone and their red INTRODUCING A CAPITALIST did tTt^'lZr' "^^^'^^ ^'^^ «-^-- Othe. came pany, but his bok avordS tf^T^''* ^'}^^ ^"« «^d com? ter'8 hand on theJanSS^^^^^^^^ ^^ ^^""^ «i«h- The^ood German's ,;Vt^^^^^ standing W holdtng'^r bt^^ ^^^t ^^^PP^«' ^^^ - scarc?be^": Cea'rf ' He'lf V^^Fl ^"^ ^-^ -"Id already blue ^ rtroons m,f I'^'^^'k *^>^*' ^^^^^^^k^ whistle screaSltKst Ob Wt.h ^"'^"'^ ""* ^^*^ h«»' old man and the broalsronldir^^^^^ ''''^ '^^^^ *^^ ^«"nt on the edge of the Tand'ng ^""""^ "'"" '^^' ^^ «^^« offic^^^SVe^tdgeTt:^^ T^^ !>r^ ^« «- Back to the silent office wWe T. I^f ^'"''^( *« ^P^^^. The Judffe closed thp^Il, I , ^^f^""^^ mocked them. Stephen it S five f 'clockt'^' ^T ^^^^^^^ ^i°^' «nd not^Whittlesey: but' V^^^^^^ '"^.^s'^' ' H^ J' ^ with a slam, and went to Verandah HaflV. a-u '*'"V'* on a dusty floor — narrnJ oW i^ ?. *° ^"^^ recruits who kne/not he first mojfon' 'l*\"^°« ^^ suspenders, Stephen was an adiutln^li^'lH? S^^' «Jf«^/«-^. Fo; was left of them ^ *^^ ^'^"^^ Guards -what regiments BufMr SL^r\^'"'T ""^ "«" Union no? even a sSdle U Jlef to th. '"'* """Wbute a horse, -a, secret!, in tle"nTglt ^thttSLT .^tar' 844 THE CRISIS Mr. Hopper had better use for sisters to wave at them, his money. One scorching afternoon in July Colonel Carvel came into the office, too hurried to remark the pain in honest Ephum's face as he watched his master. The sure signs of a harassed man were on the Colonel. Since May he had neglected his business affairs for others which he deemed public, and which were so mysterious that even Mr. Hopper could not get wind of them. These matters had taken the Colonel out of town. But now the neces- sity of a pass made that awkward, and he went no farther than Glencoe, where he spent an occasional Sunday. To- day Mr. Hopper rose from his chair when Mr. Carvel entered, — a most unprecedented action. The Colonel cleared his throat. Sitting down at his desk, he drummed upon it uneasily. " Mr. Hopper ! " he said at length. Eliphalet crossed the room quickly, and something that was very near a smile was on his face. He sat down close to Mr. Carvel's chair with a semi-confidential air, — one wholly new, had the Colonel given it a thought. He did not, but began t»; finger some printed slips of paper which had indorsements on their backs. His fine lips were tightly closed, as if in pain. " Mr. Hopper," he said, " these Eastern notes are due this week, are they not ? " " Yes, sir." The Colonel glanced up swiftly. " There is no use mincing matters. Hopper. You know as well as I that there is no money to pay them," said he, with a certain pompous attempt at severity which char- acterized his kind nature. "You have served me well. You have brought this business up to a modern footing, and made it as prosperous as any in the town. I am sorry, sir, that those contemptible Yankees should have forced us to the use of arms, and cut short many promis- ing business careers such as yours, sir. But we have to face the music. We have to suffer for our principles. These notes cannot be met, Mr. Hopper." And the good ^?- k'^L INTRODUCING A CAPITALIST 345 h«d sat in the very chr fiM 'b?Mr'' H^'"""« "''« cariate these notes ca„ fe? "'"' " '^"""^kable ease, " I of th:';''irVjirrthe'fltr'""'E';TV ''•"- »■"» »»^ tenderly, and held i" Ehphalet picked it up Wen-t a friend-a friet^^ay'™! ''^^^Z^J-,} the man He wasC onge/eSi^'''™ r"* t''"^'''' poise, such poise as we in tvl 1 ^ ^- ^"^ ''» ''"d see in ,eathe? aud mahogany oSc^^^t? r"?"''?'"f'l '» at him uncomfortably. "* Colonel glared ." i^'l',,**''? "!P tho^ notes myself sir " of hypocrisy in t' nftt^^^^^^^^ "ot a deal the part of Samaritan He dj-d no? u^ '^^^ ^""»^P* Colonel and remind him oAL f ^* ^^'^ "?»« «ie and friendless, hi had Ln fi^ ''^^' ^ ^^^^^' ^^^^^^e^^ a drove of mules! No Buf h^i!;'?"^ '°*? ^^« «tore by which he had striven unknown «n ^ ''^' ~~*^^ ^^>^ t^^^^d years - the day when he woiS i """"^^^""^ ^«^ «« ^^ny who had ignored and insulted .f,;!^^ "' *^ ^^^^^ ^^ *h««^ When we are thouZless of ^ir ^' T ^^''^'''S ** ^^^t. with that spark in Hh f 1 ^ ^'''■'^^' ^^ ' «'^' he Mr. Carvel was disarmed h! 7 *^'^ business." desk, and none save God knew thr^^ unsteadily to his received that day. To rescnp « ^^ock that his pride untarnished since he had brm,cfhrr- ""^^"^ ^^^ «tood drew forth some blank notes S fin '?^", ^^' ^^°''^^' be before he signed them he spoke -!'^ '^'^"^ «"*• ^^^ " And°^ a^bUnetiryoTmusf in"^^^^^^^ -^ ^^ will not legally hold U ;. "lUst know that these notes abolished, \nd aU tr J!„ V"'^'"*'f^ ^^^^- The courts are invalid." ""^^ transactions here in St. Louis are Eliphalet was about to speak. have the money and int?re;t or v ""' "^'^ ^^^^' ^^^ «h«ll this business. "l need notSll vJ, • ''!""'>'' ^^^^^ i« sacred, and binding forevpr nt ^ "' ^'''\ ^^""^ "^Y word is " I'm not afraid rnJnlf y^" "'^ *"^ "^^"6." a feeble attempt It g^C 'Te^'' ""'' "^^P^' -^h last. ^ geniality. He was, m truth, awed at w'-^yoS wer^'iTh^rr;' *"» Colonel, with equal place." He satTowrand Z^^'' ^T '■""■'<• 'e»™ th U will not be lone befnr. '„ 5 "^""'"""ed more calmly .- « u Louis, and the^S Sorrnment^T ■?''^"''«» '»"> « forward. "Do you reckon w. "'';'",*?• "e leaned T57ri'*«^'M^HoppeT''''" ^°'^ "■' ■""'"^'^ faiS:' Andlf^lU^^t h'' '""l"* ">^ Colonel's simple would have ended here ""P" *""* '''^"^ »• W" hSy "Leave that to me, dolonel." he said soberly 'r;=; i ; .i r ' .. i 348 THE CRISIS Then came the reaction. Tlie g(K>d (Jolonul sighed as he Higned away that business which had been an honor to the city where it was founded. I thank heaven that we arenot concerned with the details of their talk that day. Why should we wish to know the rate of interest on those notes, or the time ? It was war-time. Mr. Hopper filled out his check, and presently departed. It was the signal for the little force which remaiVed to leave. Outside, in the store, Ephum paced uneasily, won- dering why his master did not come out. Preseritly he crept to the door of the office, pushed it open, and beheld Mr Carvel with his head bowed down in his hands. " Marse Comyn I " he cried, " Marse Comyn I " il'f Colonel looked up. His face was haggard. « Marse Comyn, you know what I done promise young Miss long time ago, befo' — befo' she done left us '^ " " Yes, Ephum." He saw the faithful old negro but dimly. Faintly he heard the pleadmg voice. ^ "Marse Comyn, won' you give Ephum a pass down river, ter fotch Cap'n Lige?" * frnirfflliT*"/^'"^ *¥ F"^**^^^' ^^^^^^ "^ ^^d a letter from the Captain yesterday. He is at Cairo. His boat 18 a t ederal transport, and he is in Yankee pay " CanV?^"^.*?^ 5 \^P forward, app-aiingly. " But de Cap n 8 yo friend, Marse Comyn. He ain't never fo'get Mm ^8°uh "''''^ ""^^ ^*'°'^°- "^ *""'* ^^ ^^ "And I am the Captain's friend, Ephum," answered the ^Iw'^T' l^- V " ^V^ ^^" "«* ^^ ^id from any man employed by the Yankee Government. No ~ not from my own brother, who is in a Pennsylvania regiment." Jiphum shuffled out, and his heart was lead as he closed the store that night. .„^'^;?*'PP®''l'*f Warded a Fifth Streetcar, which jangles on with many halts until it comes to Bremen, a German STrotrf '''i *^«nT'^ "^ *^« ""^'y- At Bremen great droves of mules hU the street, and crowd the entrances of INTROnrnTOO A CAPTTALTST 349 the sale stables there WK.v Bhots Gentlemen with th^ bellow ''*?^'"^ ^'^« Pi«tol United States Army are pLLwTn ^'^^^'^ «^ the drivers and the owners anS2n^-'° *?*^ ^'" amonir the .^als. ^ herd bZS'from thf^ '^' ^"ghtenecf ani! like a V lirlwind down the^treet T • r'''" ^"^ ^« ^"ven House. They are going to boar,' ^J^ ^'"^ ^^ ^^^ ^^'*'^«* port- to die on thi batUefields of K^ ,^T«'"n^ent trans- Mr. Hopper alights from /}?« Kentucky and Missouri stands for a while^on a corner / ^^*^,°TP^«^«»«y- He surveying the busy scene unnn?^^'?'* t^^ ^^* ^""ding! not a prophecy -Ithlt a "''"^V'^ed. Mules I Was it Carvers store? ^*^ ^'^^« ^^'«1^ «ent him into M,. a sm^^'ejlLTCo^t'of oTofTh^ ^'^'^^ '""^^^^h- «nd our fnendf. ^"® ^^ *lie offices, and perceives "Howdy, Mr. Hopper ? " savs h^ his English here. ^®- ^^ « less careful of "mart unifori, whoT^"? afr r"'/",""^ "«n '»" He oould not have bermo« t^f.^^"^^} ™PO'tance. h« face and manners wet^ZJ^ 1^°, "S^ '^'"'J'' and field service was lackino. 1 i.^ ? ? '''"■'^- The tan of under the eyes ^ "" ^ ''^^^' «nd he was bLk <-K'a^^,"rrste'''"'rT "^«'' -»' ^^- ised. Not a lump on "em r . "'*"" » '"' ■« eve» I on them there at one^eigh^y a hJaS"?' "T"' '=^'"«<» """l" Mr. Ford said thU »SJ;^ ? "' ' "ekon- such a sober face tL the r?/" "' "' conviction and same time he elan,..?^ Captain smUed. And at ti,Z buttons on hisTest "" °*"°™'y "' '^e new ifne ol th/stiS"e!^LdT""'"'"^*'°-» » Newfoundland dog by •• Wal, I jest recicon," asserted Mr. Ford, with a loud 350 THE CRISIS laugh. "Cap'ri Wentworth, al' w me to make vou The Captain squeezed Mr. Hopper's hand with fervor. fou interested in mules, Mr. Hopper?" asked tliu militarv man. " ' /Jon'fc cal'late to be," said Mr. Hopper. Let us teli ^-.r^'"'''***^ ^*« "°* ^««" presented a3 being wholly without a sense of humor. He grinned as he lookea upon this lamb in the uniform of Mars, and added' hav^a^drinkt"^^^ ^**""'^'' ^ ^"'^- ^*P'"' '" 3^«" " And a segar," added Mr. Ford. lookfn*^ff°"^r "^r/^^. ^^P^^°- "I^*« d-d tiresome lookin at mules all day in the sun." «TS^^''R ^'- ^T" *>* ^^« '"^^^"^ ^«rk does not extend to Bremen, that the good man's charity keeps him at the improvised hospital down town. Mr. Hop^r has resigned the superintendency of his Sunday SchoS£ it is triw, but he is still a pillar of the church. .f^t^! r'^S? ^^^^'^ ^^?^, *»*^^^ *^« bar, and listens to stones by Mr. Ford, which it behooves no church mem- bers to hear. He smokes Mr. Hopper's cigar and drinks his whiskey. And Eliphalet understands ^that the gld Lord put some foois into the world in order to give the smart people a chance to practise their talente. Mr. w^f^^'^^f^ "^*^"''.^^??'' '°*°^^«' ^""^ be "s«« tiie spittoon wu ireedom in this atmosphere. When at length the Captain has marched out, with a conscious but manly air, ivfr. Hopper turns to Ford - h.^ir.Tt » "'' ^'T '° presenting them vouchers at headquarters," sa^s he. " Money la worth something f T. V . *^®'® ^ grumbling about this Department in the Eastern papers. If we have an mvestigation, we'll whistle. How much to-day ? " nonJJ?/R thousand," says Mr. Ford. He tosses off a pony of Bourbon, but his face is not a delight to look upon. Hopper, you'll be a d—d rich man some day." "I cal'late to." "^ tal INTttODUCNO A rAP.TALIST .,,, '... I »"? go^t7DaT'of K^'*'''^' °^ ^'f population, by the sudden WiSi^ . business, are thrown out of emplovment When gaunt famme intrudes upon their househowTt i« but natural that they should incfuire the caZ HiLr began the French Revolution." hunger in ^If^'^'l?^'^ ""^^ ""^^ ^^^ editorial, beca^'se it appeared ThTf^'u . "^^^^^ ^^ ^<^^*une were turning raoidlv that first hot summer of the war time T Pf n^L Vi? i^ ful that our flesh and blood Tre^LTpable of th^ftv^of the guillotine. But when we think ca?mly of thLe Zvl Do Tu tS tr^"' ^ 'i"V^ P^*^ ^- ^^' --^eraTs^ insfrustS^^ SXTlet? ^^^"^ «^^^^^ -^^^ -P^ - . " Virginia, child, ' said Mrs. Colfax, peevishly one morn mg as they sat at breakfast, "wh^ do youC^^t Tn" wearmg that old gown ? It has gotten on my n^ves mv u there are no men here to dress for " not ^r;?t fw'T' ^"""i '"'''^ °«* ^y «"ch things. I do t S^^ *^* ^ «^er dressed to please men." lut, tut, my dear, we all do. I did, even after T you know that Prince Napoleon was actually coming _>_-■*<'*.■ ?«■; NEWS FROM CLARENCE the giri. .. I do no??eed heZ'wtr'''n^'"''^" """"■^d you intend to pay for them iZT °"'' "»« ""e money purpose." " ' **"""• ""d I can use it for a better in the same b.Sfh '^^h.'J^ J"Pf"°"'j' •"'"■y-" And ,. Virginia lowered her yoke ° H J°" ^° ""^ " ? " lines to-morrow ni^ht i Yl i j """ges goes through the "Pshaw I" exclaimea her aunf «t him. How do you W tha? hi' n '"^'"^^ °o* *™8t Dutch pickets to PrWs^mv? ^ ^^* *^'«»&h the tared last week, and that ^J^ i .T^'^V S^"*^^^' cap! to Jack BrinsmWe puwL^^n^1t °^^ ^"^ «"«««»^« aughed at the recoLct on! and ^^if'/^^^*^'' She laugh too. "Puss hasn't hp^n ^^""Sjnia was fain to hope that will cure hT of ^vin^'^'^u^ "'"^^ ^i'^ce. I people." ® ''^^ °* «ay"»g what she thinks of "It won't," said Virginia. from teteZd'SSenr ma^/ej^^^ ^T\''^^ ^-^ees head of a regiment," Mrs CoSafw? /°*^ *^" "^^^ ^^ the long now." ^ ^' ^**^^*^ went on. « it won't be J^^inia's eyes flashed. rememVrXttt^^^^^ And don't vou need the bare neceSkTof lif^lu^^^^.p^^^^^/ /Ly of Pr..e;s men have no arms atV'" ^'"'^°- ^"^ ^^^^ "Jackson," said Mrs. Colfax «k.: Is there any news tonlay ? » ' ^""^ ™^ » newspaper. i If I ^; 354 THE CRISIS !l • 1 fKof^?'" *T^®'*?'l ^^'^"»»' quickly. "All we know m Mrs. Colfax buret into tears. » Oh, Jinny," she cried, " how can you be so cruel I " «l,3^ ™7, ?"'!,'""» * """'• toll and lean, but wUh the room witE th.'p ^ T "'.l^'T*- <»""' i»to the s tting! room with the Colonel and handed a letter to Mni CmLz ""j ffereol n " -Prl '"'» Virginia's ha^d l"i,er! ta^ ffown ?L ?r '■""''PPe. «>"» »he thrust it in he? fh.TK~Jj giri was on fire as he whispered in her cm that he had seen Clarence, and that he was well In t!^ ^ys an answer might be left at Mr. Ru™l7houJ But t«T«v^. """'"' "■'"' '"' '"'"*• ■« «>« y-k^scouu a„H l^;;??'*' l"''^"''' i^ P"™" himself a man. Giorv ^erhiLTnl''t'£.t,td"Kt'ai'r£S And how by a miracle the moon hal risen W^^ ^l great Memphis packet bore dorutn h m'he M^bet anH i?""!,^^" ^*'^ *"^ rescued and mide^ch of and set ashore at the next landing for fflnr KoT * • ' would get into trouble. In the mtnS/ hJ had wSked Tr^ ^^^/'.^'^V'^' first providing himself^with butte^ute and rawhide boots and a bowie-knife. VirginL would tTs^gut" ""^"'"' ^^^ '"^-^ -P*-- ofTagoZt ffrelt'diffic^SLI^fr^"^^^^ for Clarence, and written under great difliculties from date to date. For nearlv a mrrrTfil he had tramped over mountains and across r?v^ boZm« waiting for news of an organized force of relte"^^^^^^^ NEWS PROM CLARENCE 355 i^^r on ,f:ipc:: rj ^r "*^^° ^ -^-» and creased the^wift G^conad^^r '^ ^?\ »* Wh he settlers because of itTbrwU^J'^^a^^^ by the Irench the Pacific railroad had^e^n C^^ where the bridge of orders. Then he learned that fh"^ ^?. *^" Governor's steamed up the Missouri and had tit ''"^'""fi^ ^^0° had ferson City without a blow .n^ *w Possession of Jef- force had /ought and W Ti ?. "^ *^**^ *^e ragged re4l undaunted, hfpushed totinT'""^"- ^««t!ore but yA'^e^^^^^^^ With two other together, until one day some roLw ^ ' ^^^^ ^^^elled leaped out of a bunch of wHlows^n H™k™.^*^ «^«tg«°« tr *'(?'*"^ «1^ three for Union soL a^"^"'.' ^^ * <^^«ek when iMr. Clarence tried to exn£ .V ^^^ ^^^y ^^"ghed since been the dapper captein of tK t^l ^^ ^'^^ '^o* W His Excellency; the Governor nf m^*^ I>ragoons. ^ edged bv all Jjd SoS„ers^ litr"""/«« *«^«wl. Mr. Col/axanlthe tvvo otW w^rl r''\^*"fi^^«d when His Excellency sat in a cLh7n ^ ^''''''f^^ ^f«re him. which had causidthelgsStarrhr^^^^^ by a camp " Colfax I » cried the Goy^nor « a^ ^n 7/'>^ «^a°»e- Louis in butternuts and rawh7dX-ots"^ Colfax of St. tion C^^^^^^^^ The Governor laughed once mor'e ""'" ^'^^^ ''•" notwhS'^^'/iT.^---' ^ -it oi clothes I You know ^ ^ry'cShSLS^^^^^^^^^ St. Louis here." had once been George. Now h^^ '"'T^' ^ther what with a huge blond Sard, and a bow^ S -^^ frontiersman trousers in place of a sword J?, "^"'^^ '*."*'^ ^^to his captain of dragoons • tZr^ ^ecogmzed his youn^ ence slept that^^gh't in th^cabT ^Fh'^^^*'^' «°^ cSS? given a hor.se, an! a brightt^w dl'^Shle^^^a^e! ' ■ f ; :r:>I 356 THE CRISIS ernors soldiers had taken from the Dutch at Cole Pamr* on the way south. And presently they made a Lc?S? with three thousand more who were th^e^lmaL^ TM« and conestogas and carrvils and S^°.? t*? "P?" ^"Sons him ready when we march into St^ LoiS/' ' *°^ ^""^ "CowSKINPKAlaiB.OthJoly. irtjng^shed Mn«eU in the flghl' We"oa'JS'4''dSStc^^"^ hir^a^csa? tT^L^ sta r e*^atr a-i^ who was used to linen sheets and eider downTrwithont fnT.^^''^"^^' or shelter; who was usedtotKelt uMe m the state, was reduced to husks "But, Aunt Lillian," cried Virginia, "he is fighting for l^WS FROM CLAREKCE would not be orea^edZn^L^Z'''^ <^-J}^M::L^II though wretched because h«ii,1T*^' "« was ^appv the life he had lonSdTor aJT^^ ."°*.^« ^er. It^^^^' he was nroving his usefulnest n^h'^"''^ iT^* PathetiTh longer tte mere idler whtlL'h^S'chTdrn. ""^ "" ^ oJpn"^;otrcomToro^/r^^^ «« .--^ ^-rs ago that wish you could see us fellZ ^rL^^^ ^?^« ^ ^^^^ ? How i ou?h.^ «l«i^ for canister, iVmSin'.ri'.5^^^*-«°"^d«,a^ Sll &u?v"' candlesticks ^Z^tt "* ^^^^* ^^^^^ vL- P '^P y*''^' courage. I ran olo ' ^ l^°°w that you hear you praying for us?' '^"^ '"* ^^^ «ewing for us, i IZ alwaynVte8tSV''HeT''#n°'* ^'*™^^ ^ «ew. She had weeks after she began sTlT^'t ^^^^^^ »»d sore dages nor her shirts nor hJ^ u *? '®1**« that her ban W. Those havlTs,t^thsS tropic sun, which were m^de in J?^"^ *^f l^«a*^ of the Union women that first summer of th''"'*'^'^ by devoted a? nightcaps by the sold?eT " W^ T''S ^ "<^i«"led diers have them, too?" ^d Vir«S '^^^i^ot ^^ sol- They were never so happy aswK ^ *^^ ^""^^ S^rh. the arrival of the Army^&l.^^^tfoT^^K?".*^^"^ «^^i°«t The long, lone dava nf V ^ j °"' ^l^^ch nfc camp to cheer th^oseffmSslpa^td^^^^^ -S a great army. Clarence mShtdL *5''' ^^*" «"«« by haps a year -pass without nfws.^nlp'"'^,,* nionth-per- a prisoner to St. Louis HnZ v--^- ^® ^^^^ brought because the Union lists Jf ^^Jf^'''^''''''^ Maude her tidings of her brother TW ^^ ^o«nded would give eied the many Union famm«?' V'^^^ H«^ «be Sv! wei^ at the front, tCpSger''^''" ''""^ ^^ brother wei. at th-rJni^r pS^^-^- -« -d br^tS Wewere speaking oFtheXneh Revolution, When, as li' ,' , ■ ' ;> , !■' 1 i '^^rt 1 11-- , 358 THE CRISIS never ran hiah^r ""X, "*'"®- J^eelmgs in eftch instance women were thrown into prisonf it H/ue Y«f -. would march swiftly into a street anSltop Lfore ato^ bell Of fl?r '^ ^?f excitement, Eugenie Renault ran^the ^n up the stos to v""'""^. '"" ^^''^^ astounded /ack! K^open Virgmia's room, the door of which she k„ i^^j ^1 , some one told the provost marahAl Wo ha^^ad the house surrounded, and tL fCi;tave t» sS^ NEWS FROM CLARENCE m « Ti!* *^»*^® ^"^ fi^^^®8 out ? " each Z' ofTh'e faS.f iT^'-Ce" ^T "' «-• " «■» ribbona, before th^S"°Xn' '^'^ "» "<• »»d "h ie will arrest you." ^**° ^-ugeme, aghast. "They they would I " ^ ^*^ fnghtened. « How I wish Her friend's fcearing C must ^T ?"'*?' "C^^ld by ^as young, and thft her feeTn * w« ''"^' *'** ^^'g^nia g^at-grandmotheraexperiencid^K^'t *&** *° those our York. It was as if sheTrbee„ wl '. "*^'5 ^'^** ^^^ white of the South. Elderlv Z^ ^ "^f *' *^e red and J^ion paused in their hot'^fS^^^irktofJ^^^^ P^" tion,--8ome sadly, as Mr Brinc«,^ to smile in admim- found an excuse ti r^race theTsZ/. JT^ gentlemen Virginia walked on air, and^w n^^fnl^'S? °^ *^«- B»t fierce an^er and exaltation She dte /^^ ^^ ^^^^^^ eyes as Tow us the citizen sen^l?. ? "^^'^rn to drop her Puss RusseU's house Cth^eXl*""* ^"^ ^^ ^«>°t of aU); she did not so mS « Xclat .?^^ ^^°'*"' ^^^^ standmg on the comer, wh^cf uld Lf ^- Z'"""^* P^oP^e delight. The citizen LeT^eanronlv ?f * ?urmur of move to arrest the you^gf^ in ii^/";,^^\.»°d made no Piws mng open the^blinianJwavllt her *"• ^'' ^'"^ I suppose it's because Mr. 17^^^^, ,,, ,,, ,, ^^^, r: i'H ; f| ■n 360 THE CBISIS Virginia, digconsolatelv. »♦ Opnio !«♦» . , ters, and show thia Yankee Gen«r:i v - ^^'^ *^ headquar- not afraid of him " °^'^'*^ Fremont that we are thif pSt!;r ' sTe ter^^ ^.^« ^^^^ ^^^°- of mansion of brick with a «?nn? / 1^ '*'" «^"^«» » We wide, with an daboTate co^o! ^"T^^/^H^ *«» and very both tall and brSra^d a hf-h^^ P^ate-glass windowi^ stone porches caoD^d hv «l»>^^^ basement. Two stately front fnd on tSe^Sde. ^The Jh^^" '^^''^' ^^°^« ^' ^^ proportional. In sSort, the hou^K tZf'T. *"^ many wealthy gentlemen in tht middle nfY^ ^"^^^ '^^ which has best stood the test of tfme th«' T^^^' which, if repeated to^av wo.;m ^^^\—ine only type tectural edncatSn wS' we ire 'V'"^^ with the Whi! yard well above the Dav«J!nf '«°e»ving. A spacious a waU of dresl^d stoni - ^^founds it, sustained by whole expS we^ltr ^^f ^^ ^?.^''«'» ^^^^e. The Alas, tLS^rit^^ .^^^^^^^^^ conservatism. Western states should Tien Jlu ^^bjack mud of our of these houses out of themfT^'^^ ^"^^'^ *^« o^^ers almost buried m's^t emD^; J^\%T °*^^ blackened, ers. Descendant^^f the ol Jfa^ir^^'*""*"^^^ ^y board- way to business or to the ?Wr« vl^^ J^^°» ^^ *beir of those who owned them S!! ?f Ti*^ * '^S^^' The sons ward again, u^tTrn^X'^;: s' x mlTr*^^ ^^ "^«*- On that summer eveni^^fJ! ®® ^'"^^ *be river. giniaandEugenTe came?8i&^t^^^^^^ ^^^'^ ^^r- great animation was Wore fhL t S?"^' * ""^°^ ^^ the commanding genes'^ nn^r* ^ ^*^^ "^^ "^^ o^er bad just returnfdfrom Pnr?^^ j?°*^ circumstance. He stance and the mSy JeTwed^/^^^ "?^ ^^^«'^"^- erars body-gua^wKoTS^e r^^ e^^ £ NEWS PKOM CLAEENCE of the Hungarian caotain v-^- ■ "'"'» militarv ev« ing uniforafs, re8Dlen,& • Yf^'"'* ga^ed at the^ul. 711-fed ho.^r.rnd sca,d/„V^,' '""• ■"«• at the skfk .nd of the half-ataWed Sit ?f t?"..""'"* "« "'« thought buramg prairies. JuVt thL f ^<'""«'™ Patriots on the vaM'"' of^?f "* fro™ the'Hrgat? Th"""" T'^^ '" Std^!!:vrr:.rh-H.f«^^^^^^^^^ charger was pawing the autt^r a ^u ''"''^' ^here his stirrup, the eve nf th e"^^®^- As he put foof f« lu a?ain to be. lor pUt,„f,'^' ■»»» (once'^SI.uS 'nJ "^thSf r? ^old'7-."-'^'- ««» a". Oh, I young officer with a & ^SK ^^ Prepared to slay the throat and choking him t; th« • ^1* "^« %i«g *^t ht How dare he marfh SdauVt.^ ?'°^'-''^^ *>^ that smile me, she said passionately to V..- ■ ^""^^ ^^ will arrest But hush ! he was speakinr « Yo^J ^^"^'*^ *^ q"«"-" Wo those were not the wor^'« „„ V^ ^^ prisoners " ? What was left for them af fo. *i, . It was not precipitate ^}:tlt^^.*H save a retreat? But -- a dignit, aSd ^^V^^J^^. ^^ Ih* l^Hl '? / «-^-=^- 802 THE CRISI8 the body-guard to one aide. And there she stood hauffh- tily until the guard and the General had thundered awty. A crowd of black-coated civilians, and quartermasters and other officers m uniform, poured out of the basement of the house into the yard. One civilian, a youngish man a little mclmed to stoutness, stopped at the gate, stared, then thrust some papers in his pocket and hurried down * J- ^*'''®®^- it"*®® ^^"^^^ **»«»ce he appeared abreast of Miss Carvel. More remarkable still, he lifted his hat clear of his head. Virginia drew back. Mr. Hopper, with his newly acquired equanimity and poise, startled "May I have the pleasure," said that gentleman, "of accompanying you home ? " Eu^nie giggled. Virginia was more annoyed than she " You must not come out of your way," she said. Then she added : "I am sure you must go back to the store. it IS only SIX o'clock." Had Virginia but known, this occasional tartness in her speech gave Eliphalet an infinite delight, even while It hurt him. His was a nature which liked to gloat over a goal on the horizon. He cared not a whit for sweet girls ; they cloyed. But a real lady was something to attain. He had revised his vocabulary for just such an occasion, and thrown out some of the vernacular. " Business is not so pressing nowadays. Miss Carvel," he answered, with a shade of meaning. "Then existence must be rather heavy for you," she said. She made no attempt to introduce him to Eugenie. " If we should have any more victories like Bull Run prospenty will come back with a rush," said the son of Massachusetts. "Southern Confederacy, with Missouri one of Its stars — industrial development of the South — fortunes in cotton." Virginia turned quickly. "Oh, how dare you?" she cned. " How dare you speak flippantly of such things ? " His suavity was far from overthrown. •'Flippantly, Miss Carvel?" said he. "I assure you NEWS FROM CLARENCE 363 that I want to see the South win " Wh»t u vi know was that words «.U«™ « • "'**' "® *^*** ""^ your father, Li wi.h?„i„r1,uVu„ty ?^"" ""* '"' pe«0„ wholly uiSy of ^ott " '""■'"" '^»"'««'- • ment Virginia uSI^ «tlTh.X^' ""h'^ "TT'? "^K" covered halfX bl«k Wh^ !t S""?*^ "^'^'J' ''« ''«' ohiidiiiThrei?? w£^he'kiw%z ?•"'' rr' ■"." prey, and hf ^eanT^ol to C'one tMe'oT'lf • '" "«•"«?' i-r:: [ ' 'f -^ ■ 1 : m THE CRISIS ir Colonel Carvel wMchhi?^.? rehearsed the «cone with befopp aZaI.' "*^ actuttUy taken place a week manner for th?- ?^.''°''' *'*^ ^« P'^P^^'^^ IWs^^^ira^d The words he HrS . r«« ?^ ^^^"^ *" ^^^ company. m Lynch s slave pen by to-morrow n\„ht itr i ? i » uoaoea.; 'And then we went — Euj?enifl anH T f« 1,^1 q.«rt»rj^ just to see what the Yank^ruld do' " ''"'■ «.^J''t.'k"''et^'ho;;ev'^t '»!'«>''»<' •8"™- "^»» brave, and to stand by yZ^clU"^ ^^F.^^^ *t H thing" aaid he, etrokijg^he go™!'..thU Jrt'„fiv °' doesn't help the South, mv deafand J. J ?' **'"'«' ^u ^ ?° *^^ °° *°y ™ore trips." The Colonel shook his head sadly. pJLrdutit-&y'l^^^ There are duties, my dear, NEWS FROM CLARENCE 36ff who wJ^tn'^taY^^ Mr. Hop,.r. checked himself ab3;UE,i^iV*!? u^^^ «te|«/*He "Howdy, ColonelT VaJd ^ *^'* P""*^'^ ^^ »»>« hat. Shy^^SToTerbTa^ptrti^^^^^ ^ ^^« intruder. Btort down the stVaryearaed * ^»f '*''if*^ ^''' ^"^h^*" of him -to warn him y^*™!?i^,*^^°\he««lf in front Then she heard the ColoLirvmvl ^' ^^^ ^"^^ ^ot what. aa ever. And yet it broke TlStu'^'^T '^"^ ^ "d'y visitor. ^ . '^'**® * "ttle as he greeted his with your daughter." *^^ ^^^^^^^ «^ talking home Ga]:;j^t/^,ij:C^^^^ 5"^ "P the stairs. as though he ^ightXl herX're"' T^''' ^^« ^^' had all at once become a terror Sh^^K u "^" « ^^^e louncre and buried her faw^n h«r K ^"^"^ ^®"«^^ «» the still leering at her withTn«» her hands, and she saw it grew calmfr ; risTnJ, sLVuron'^.!;^^? Presently^he wardrobe, and weTdown^theTtat fr'^' °/ ^''^^"^'Y dation new to her Sh« K a ^l *" »n a strange treni- before. She he^'rkened o^erTh? W °. ^° '^ '^ » ^^^ Mra. Colfax ignoid h m as coZf *??^ ^''H'J^ him that been vacant. He glanced at t^K/ "" ^^ ^'' '^^^' had for he was tasting the swlf^.f • . ^ ^'n^®' ^^^ ' oiled, who entertained Kre?ent^^^^^^^ /t was V .-ginia what it cost her. EUpE hfm««if ^ °ever guessed change of manner, andToattd o^r /w Y^^ ** her occupied.^ .L JetSl^n: reo^.^be^i p£ . i II ^fJ i •f'M 366 THE CRISIS 1^ to a guest. He oflFered Mr. Hopper a cigar with the same air that he would have ffiven it to a governor. " Thank'ee, Colonel, I don't smoke," he said, wavhig the box away. ° Mrs. Colfax flung herself out of the room. It was ten o'clock when Eliphalet reached Miss Crane's, and picked his way up the front steps where the boarders were gathered. "The war doesn't seem to make any difference in your business, Mr. Hopper," his landlady remarked ; " where have you been so late?" "I happened round at Colonel Carvel's this afternoon and stayed for tea with ^em," he answered, striving to speak casually. ^ Miss Crane lingered in Mrs. Abner Reed's room later than usual that night. CHAPTER III THE SCOUBOB OF Wa6 Jo^'^f ! ^"^ -""*"• At what ti.e shall I order thrust inlJherlZr'' •""*• »* » '»"™PaP« the girl had " TT,^T ''^' " '* I" *« K^tEe-l- " I cannot read " i^'tuVd^TrthiVofi,':??^^^^^^^ aoarcel/S'^^l^'S, ^^"i'SriT^'' ""^ ^S""' -"> "And — Clarence?" " His name is not there." kel's^J^n*^^'" ""'*™'='* ""■• ^««- "A«. the Yan- 367 i I I 'W^y^^-IS:^^-^m^:M ! 368 THE CRISIS Mra. Colfax leaned forward and caught the hem of her niece's gown. " Ob, let me stay," she cried, "let me stay. Clarence may be with them." Virginia looked down at her without pity. "As you please, Aunt Lillian," she answered. "You know that you may always stay here. I only beg of you one thing, that vr\en you have anything to complain of, you will bring it to me, and not mention it before Pa. He has enough to worry him." " Oh, Jinny," sobbed the lady, in tears again, " how can you be so cruel at such a time, when my nerves are all iii pieces ? " But she n.id not lift her voice at dinner, which was ver poor indeed for Colonel Carvel's house. All day long Virginia, assisted by Uncle Ben and Aunt Easter, toiled in the stifling kitchen, preparing dainties which she had long denied herself. At evening she went to the station at Fourteenth Street with her father, and stood amongst the people, pressed back by the soldiers, until the trains came in. Alas, the heavy basket which the Colonel car- ried on his arm was brought home again. The first hun- dred to arrive, ten hours in a hot car without food or water, were laid groaning on the bottom of great furni- ture vans, and carted to the new House of Refuge Hospi- tal, two miles to the south of the city. The next day many good women went there. Rebel and Union alike, to have their hearts wrung. The new and cheap building standing in the hot sun reeked with white- wash and paint. The miserable men lay on the hard floor, still in the matted clothes they had worn in battle. Those were the first days of the war, when the wages of our pas- sions first came to appal us. Many of the wounds had not been tended since they were dressed on the field weeks before. Mrs. Colfax went too, with the Colonel and her niece, although she declared repeatedly that she could not go through with such an ordeal. She spoke the truth, for Mr. Carvel had to assist her to the waiting-room. Then he went back to the improvised wards to find Virginia M:^^f^^~.. -R^', m THE 8C0UBGE OF WAR 3^ limp over^fe w«W Mv ^''^l^ke'.ed blood, hung They put a mattress under the Aftiu.^ %;li„f.'°;-j not leave him untU he had f»ll^ o^ Vugima did peace was come upra Us annk^ ?, asleep, and a emUe of fearful sights atoSt heT^Tj K ^- """"Vd at the ere^ sidf, she™ "^^^T^ ^ tafSl"^' ™*r s^-p^^i^f th^i^'^e r %E1¥™'"- Imess of her who knelt there. Her fare "■'man- even seen, for it was bent oV« the man ThVU'^* ""' of her voice held Viwinia as in T.^n J.? sweetness stopped greaning thaXL^ht li:t2E! ' ""* *' "■««'°* ■I.M M 370 THE CBISIS II "You have a wife?** "Yes, ma'am." "AndachUd?" X ' The answer came so painfully. " A boy, ma'am— bom the week —before I came— away." I shall write to your wife," said the lady, so gently that Virmma could scarce hear, "and teU her that you are cared for. Where does she live?" He gave the address faintly —some Uttle town in Min- nesota. Then he added, " God bless you, lady." Just then the chief surgeon came and stood over them. The lady turned her face up to him, and teara sparkled in Her eyes. Virgmia felt them wet in her own. Her wor- ship was not given to many. Nobility, character, effi- ciency, - all were written on that face. N. litV spoke in the larpe features, in the generous mouth, in the calm, gray eyes. Virgmia had seen her often before, but not until now was the woman revealed to her. "Doctor, could this man's life be saved if I took him to my nome ? The surgeon got down beside her and took the man's pulse. -Die eyes closed. For a while the doctor knelt there, shaking hia head. « He has fainted," he said. "Do you think he can be saved ? " asked the lady again. The surgeon smiled, — such a smile as a good mii Sves after eighteen hours of amputating, of bandaging, of ^vis- ing,— work which requires a firm hand, a clear eye and brain, and a good heart. ^ "My dear^rs. Brice," he said, "I shall be glad to jret you permission to take him, but we must first make him worth the taking Another hour would have been too 1^^* A ,f^gla°^ed humedly about the busy room, and -hen added. We must have one more to help us." fathw^" ^^^"^ ^"^"^^ ^""^ touched Virginia's arm. It was her "I am afraid we must go, dear," he said ; « your aunt is getting impatient." ^ "Won't you please r;o without me. Pa?" she asked. Ferhaps I can be iome use." THE SCOUEGE OF WaE 37, A?^^' ^""^ "y <'*»'■•" '•'• "»it, whe?e thev found a German company of Home G^rds dmwn u7 On the long wooden platform under the 8hec?« t^rr.],"?: caught sight of Herr iferner and SfrJ Hauptm^nn a^^^^^^ group of their countrymen. Little Korner came fom^ tS ck«p his hands. The teara ran on his cheeks, and hTcould stoodTl^%Th*'°- "^"^^^ Whinple, grim and sUen^ scooa apart. But he uncovered his head with the othflrJ when tW train rolled in. Revei^ntly they entered a cm Wrout\CaiSSr "^^ P^^f^T?^^ '"^ anU'efand'th"; Dore out the earthly remains of Lieutenant Carl Richter on RW "W'nf ^1°^ °t^^ V^^» «°«°g tho«e same o^ nn K^ HJl where brave Lyon fell, he had gladly givS s^lS'^!^*^^^ V° *^^ cemetery, as the smoke of the last ^^lJ^.t ^^^i ^?^«^ ^ *^« flickering light and drifted upward through the great trees, as the still aS waT vet quivenng wi g the notes of the buglsKjall whL™ the f?ni' W rr' ?,**",?grure, gaunt Ld bentrstLpped ml from behina the blue line of the troops. It wa^ that of Judge Whipple. He carried in his hanf a wreal of white TnTp\^S''^ff*'^^ *°> ^^'^ o^ Richter's^ave Poor Richter I How sad his life had been I And vpf he had not filled it with sadness. For many a mo/^ and many a year, Stephen could not look u^on^his em^i place without a pang. He missed the cheery son^^l Cari Richter, -as his father before him, -had lived^for ! » 376 THE CBISIS I others. Both had saorifioed their bodiee for a oauae. One of them might be pictured m he tmdged with Father Jahn from door to door through the Rhine country, or shoulder* iny at sixteen a heavy musket in the Landufehr'» ranks to drive the tyrant Napoleon from the beloved Fatherland. Later, aged before his time, his wife dead of misery, decrepit and prison-worn in the service of a thuikless country, bis hopes lived aeain in Carl, the swordsman of Jena. Then came the pitiful Revolution, the sundering of all ties, the elder man left to drag out his few weary days before a shat- tered altar. In Carl a new aspiration had sprung up, a new patriotism stirred. His, too, had been the sacrifice. Happy m death, for he had helped perpetuate that great Union which should be for all time the refuge of the oppressed. 'I CHAPTER IV TH« U8T OP 8IZTT We and gfaon^ wlen they .tarted, died of Dneumon!.^!: tte pubho lodging-home. •'xhe wijls rf Saf ho,l dw ^many teles to wring the heart. So conld jTBrin^ niad^ djd he ohooae to speak of his own charitiL St founded, and bv, correspondence, and his jonmSTof We — between early mommg and midnight, — to 5v« ^m!.' hours a day to the i«ic«ee<. ^ """ S77 : i t 378 THE CRISIS Fl Throughoat December they poured in on the afflicted city, already overtaxed. All the vny to Springfield the road was lined with remains of articles once dear — a child's doll, a little rocking-chair, a colored print that had hung in the best room, a Bible text. Anne Brinamade, driven by Nicodemus, went from house to house to solicit old clothes, and take them to the crowded place of detention. Christmas w Irawing near — a sorry Christmas, in truth. And many of the wanderers were unclothed and unfed. More battles had been fought ; factions had arisen among Union men. AnoUier general had come to St. Louis to take charge of the Department, and the other with his wondrous bodv-guard was gone. The most serious problem confronting the new general was — how to care for the refugees. A council of citizens was called at headquarters, and the verdict went forth in the never-to-be-forgotten Order» No. 24. " Inasmuch," said the General, '* as the Secession army had driven these people ttom their homes. Secession sympathizers should be made to support them." He added that the city was unquestion- ably lull of these. Indignation ^v rife the day that order was published. Sixty prominent "disloyalists" were to be chosen and assessed to make up a sum of ten thousand dollars. " They may sell my house over my head before I will pay a cent," cried Mr. Russell. And he meant it. This was the way the others felt. Who were to be on this mysterious list of " Sixty " ? That was the all-absorbing question of the town. It was an easy matter to pick the consoicuous ones. Colonel Carvel was sure to be there, and Mr. Catherwood and Mr. Russell and Mr. James, and Mr. Worington the lawyer. Mrs. Addison Colfdx lived for days in a fermented state of excitement which she declared would break her down ; and which, despite her many cares and worries, gave her niece not a litUe amuse- ment. For Virginia was human, and one morning she went to her aunt's room to read this editorial from the news- paper : — "^-m \. ^'Z ■ . Wi- THE LIST OP SIXTY 379 weU^to ^tTfll!, **' "'y I*llrfUting heart, it may be weii to jiate that we understand only two ladiM aid !Z the ten thousand dollar list." ^ * *" °" ».l?m?S;"/H °"*^' /*^°^ **» y«» »» »o cruel as to wad me that, when you know that Tarn in a state of f "nzv now? How does that relieve me? It makes H an aliX J Tw °?J^ '^'''" - ? °' importance in the city." ^^ and dmvl t'T?,'^' mad^ ffood her much-uttered threat, and drove to Bellegurde. Only the Colonel and Virginia Chnstmas eve was a steel-«ay day, and the sleet froze Jh J -fff • • ^''^^ morning Colonel Carvel had sat poking the sitting-room fire, or pacing the floor restlawlv H^ occupation was gone. He was observed LZ ffiay bv I J I^^i ^^^P^r"^- Virginia strove to amSse l5m, to^con. buf for h?rT^ " u t ^*^^"*^ ^^' Well she knew th^t oftln in Z K^r^^^ long since have fled southward, and for not J^int V "T ""^ '^V'^S^^^i^e she blamed heraelf nJJh- • ^ ^^ ^ ^^' T«» yea" had seemed to pass h«r^ii ^ ^°"«^ she had been striving to put away from fathers early £ome-coming from the store, I mvsterioul smileon his face; of Cap^n Li^ stamping nZuynto s^n ?^':'??r^°K^ uproarious Jests with ifed and^jic^ f^o* .The Captain had always carried under his arm a shape ess bunSle which he would confide to Ned ^^th a knowing wmk. And then the house would 4 ll^Jted r^l 1 ^""»™a^e came in for a long evening with Mr Carvel over great bowls of apple toddy and egg-n^ And Virginia would have her own frieni the big parior That parlor was shut up now, and icy cold. ^ ^ wnose year was his Christmas dinner at Colonel Carvel's iiM .r^-wi-i>- ♦:"-T « .-iT. *^~-<4*i^ 380 THE CRISIS I house. Virginia pictured him this year at Mrs. Brice's little table, and wondered whether he would miss them as much as they missed him. War . "v break frienifehips, but it cannot take away the sacrednbo. of memories. The sombre daylight was drawing to an early close as the two stood looking out of the sitting-room window. A man's figure mu£Bed in a greatcoat slanting carefully across the street caught their eyes. Virginia started. It was the same United States deputy marshal she had seen the day before at Mr. Russell's house. " Pa," she cried, " do you think he is coming here ? " "I reckon so, honey. " The brute I Are you going to pay ? " "No, Jinny." " Then they will take away the furniture." •' I reckon they will." ^' F.'S you must promise me to take down the mahogany bed in your room. It — it was mother's. I could not bear to see them take that. Let me put it in the garret." The Colonel was distressed, but he spoke without a tremor. " No, Jinny. We must leave this house just as it is." Then he added, strangely enough for him, " God's wUl be done." The bell rang sharply. And Ned, who was cook and housemaid, came in with his apron on. " Does you want to see folks, Marse Comyn ? " The Colonel rose, and went to the door himself. He was an imposing figure as he stood in the windy vestibule, coufronting the deputy. Virginia's first impulse was to siirink under the stairs. Then she came out and stood beside her father. "Are vou Colonel Carvel?" •' I reckon I am. Will you come in ? " The officer took off his cap. He was a young man with a smooth face, and a frank brown eye which paid its tribute to Virginia. He did not appear to relish the duty thrust upon him. He fumbled in his joat and drew from his inner pocket a paper. ft Rl THE LIST OF SIXTY 331 H-n^l''?^ ^"^®^'*' ^^ ^®' " ^y <>'der of Major General HaUeck, I serve vou with this notice to pay the sum^f three hundred ana fifty dollars for the benefit of the d^S tuU famihes which the Rebels have driven from their homi. n uexan c of payment within a reasonable time such per- »ona article, will be seized and sold at public auction i S?[l iaf sfy thd r.,mand against you." The Colonel took the paper. " Verv wpII sir " 1,0 o«;j port persons who have no claim upon me." ^ It was said in the tone in which he might have refused an inyitetion to dinner. The deputy marvelled He had Cf '^ r*"^ ^""T^ i^**^ "^^^^^ ^ad seen indignation, hysterics, frenzy. He had even heard men and women whose sons and brothers were in the army of secessioTpro claim their lovalty to the Union. But this dignity, and the quiet scorn o^ the girl who had stood silent ^sfde them! Z^U w^' , "^^^«d' ^°d casting his eyes to the vesU: ^«j^' was glad to escape from the house. The Colonel shut the door. Then he turned toward Vir- gmia, thoughtfully pulled his goatee, and laughed gently' 'Lordy, we haven't got three hundred and fifty dollars to our names," said he. ^ «""»« 1« J^? ?1!"*T^- °^ ^-' ^V" ^, capricious. That fierce val- nUL^^ .^'S^^^^i!' .""^'"^ *^^^^«« fi^^'^l blizzards from December to March, is sometimes quiet. Then the hot winds come up from the Gulf, and sleet melts, and win- dows are opened. In those days the streets will be fetlock deep m soft mud. It is neither summer, nor winter, nor spring, nor anything. ' It was such a languorous afternoon in January that a turniture van, accompanied by certain nondescript pereons frnnT^nfiy^'n*^ Stetes Police, puUed up at the curb in front of Mr. Carvel's house. Eugenie, watehing at the window across the street, ran to tell her father, wTio came out on his steps and reviled the van with all the fluency of his French ancestors. ^ ii^ir ^ ^■ . W' er'T^ve:. 382 THE CRISIS f n Mammy Easter opened the door, and then stood with her arms akimbo, amply filling its place. Her lips pro- truded, and an expression of (&f ruice hard to describe sat on her honest black face. "Is this Colonel Carvel's house?" " Yassir. I 'low you knows dat jes as well as me." An embarrassed silence, ui^^ then from Mammy, "Whaffor youlaffinat?" "Is the Colonel at home?" " Now I reckon you knows dat he ain't. Ef he was, you ain't come here 'quirin' in dat honey voice." (Raising her own voice.) " You tink I dunno whaffor you come ? You done come heah to rifle, an' to loot, an to steal, an' to seize what ain't your'n. You come heah when young Marse ain't to home ter rob him." (Still louder.) "Ned, whaffor you hidin' yonder? Ef yo' ain't man to protect Marse Comyn's prop-ty, jes han' over Marse Comyn's gun." The marshal and his men had stood, half amused, more than half baffled by this unexpected resistance. Mammy Easter looked so dangerous that it was evident she was not to be passed without extreme bodily discomfort. " Is your mistress here ? " This question was unfortunate in the extreme. " You — you white trash I " cried Mammy, bursting with indignation. " Who is you to come heah 'quiring fo' her ! I ain't agfwine — " " Mammy I " "Yas'ml Yas, Miss Jinnv." Mammy backed out of the door and clutched at her bandanna. " Mammy, what is all this noise about?" The torrent was loosed once more. " These heah wen. Miss Jinny, was gwine f 'r t' carry away all yo' pa's b'longin's. I jes' tol' 'em dey ain't comin' in ovah dis heah body." The deputy had his foot on the threshold. He caught sight of the face of Miss Carvel within, and stopped abruptly. "I have a warrant here from the Provost Marshal, :ti.> "X'""iTv5,' ■4^to.^i£/^.£'?^ jk,^*^^r^Vif:' :'>i^i -■V '-«CR<>_^ THE LIST OF SIXTT 3,3 SZ C^':, .P"~"^ P~I«'^ t» ««»fy . cWm .g^t '^i'r^ot't^^ h'" "i"*"' ™^ "^ "d handed it b«k But it" ^Tti td;.„i -' "■"'' *^" ^- "<>- »0"y I »". AndatXalht'oftt^^aTchL'S l^'^"" ^^"'"> ««<»• crystaU, he wlistkd Cn he wife ""'^ '? ""*«'«» EnrfiA RothHeld piano and Kftedlflfd" *° *" "« self o^"??: rh^JZtS air'" W' '-'^O '""'- keys. They Sd^t^ V l^fnt ""J ''? "»«*'* »«' the the hall, t.Ve out tt^le^ J-ordTotaLTv'"""'" " stoISinTelSkM^^,-^ -|h^.r;rhad once cyondale. TOe «,nZrf R«., •*^^***''"' ^olf^ at Hal- oi the what-not neTby No Tor^o?" ** '"'•'°" »>■«« they were alone, toiS Vi,^- • ' "•' ?° evening when an/ play them over to tfieP^f^ ^"'S'^^ ^^^ *»«■» out the ^niw wiU, hU 0^ d^'w ''° T* .^«»-»»8 " borders of a wood, S tf^^^J^^XMX^^^ °" *■» sang them softly to h/iself iS .hT n '^j'"?' ''»°^' """l ^toM^i^ia'^^-Jh^ i^» o-tlff V,£i the words of Emy ^W "■' ^' *""« "■« »>««« easen. of endearmenl A^n^y^t, w^'e Z^r^^n *d' - - I '• m iii| 1 1^ I nil I wp III II I ■■Ill GBK^^Btrw^:^ ''k ilu f! 884 THE CRISIS them, she glared unceasingly at the intraden. " Oh, de good Lawd'll bum de wicked I" The men were removing the carved legs. Virginia went back into the room and stood before the deputy. "Isn't there something else you could take? Some jewellery?" She flushed. "I have a necklace — " _ " No, miss. This warrant's on your father. And there ain't nothing quite so salable as pianos." She watched them, dry-eyed, as they carried it away. It seemed like a coffin. Only Mammy Easter guessed at the pain in Virginia's breast, and that was because there was a pain in her own. They took the rosewood what- not, but Virginia snatched the songs before the men could touch them, and held them in her arms. They seized the mahogany velvet-bottomed chairs, her uncle's wedding present to her mother; and, last of all, they ruthlessly tore up the Brussels carpet, beginning near the spot where Clarence had spilled ice-cream at one of her children's parties. She could not bear to look into the dismantled room when they had gone. It was the embodied wreck of her happiness. Ned closed the blinds once more, and she her- self turned the key in the lock, and went dowly up the stairs. CHAPTER V THE AUCTION »n't?SrS::;it4° ttCJS^tSf' ™y. "there ertv sales." ^ ^^^ * 8^® o^®' *<> the Secesh prop- Stephen looked up in surnrise TKo • tended sale of secession prcS? hoH il- '^f ""^^ »°^ ^^ bitterness and indignatk)S?i^J^c^ 't?^** "P ^"^"^ense ists (lukewarm) whodenLnlJl' ^^^^^ ^^^^ Union- and brutal. ThefleUnTTtut^^^^^ ^ "°j"«* secret, maj only be sunniSd Rf^^f"'- ^^^^^^ *nd the price if biidinff onTv tnn?^ 5-^ ostracism was to be Wht in handsomf fSSfe on ^ /'^l?°^ "^'^ ^^« cheap have still, after ?ort™?s causet^J^'"^il^^^« It was not that Steohen <^^nS' \ -^ remember it. made was almost the^X^^^eitlSTi' "^""^ ^""«- former circle of acquainteSes MJ^« p ^'?,'" *"**"fir ^ known. The Misses RuS showpri,-^"'^^^ ' ^°°^"^t " thej disapproved of hte ^ ticL "tk^ ''"^ ?^^^'3^ *hat that house were over iC Sh J ' ^ospitatle d^ys at on the street, pretended Zff'^'^'^x.'^' ^^®° they met Renault gave hiK?rL^f„^ ''Th^^ T? ^"^^«i« whose houses he now went wp?2' .f ^""J^^ i^milies to sentiment against forTerauetrom """"^^^ Southerner, in f^^r7iXr:i^''l^^^^^^^^ forth int. the for some distance if silenr^ ""'• ^^^^^ ^^^^^ hid&°'" «^^^ ^«' P«««-%. "I guess m do a little Stephen did not renW B..t i,. wondered what Mr vK- i ™ ™* astontahed. Ha And, a he «^lf w&t' Wd"^? T"" ?"« f""""" • thatnoeon,ideriiiorw::id^4CP'""' '^'»» ''k^wi^e **' 386 ' m^mmm ,mmr:mA' 3M THE CRISIS " You don't approve of this proceeding, fir, I suppoee," said the Judge. " Yes, sir, on large grounds. War makes many harsh things necessary." "Then," said the Judge, tartly, "by bidding, we help to support starving Union femilies. You should not be afraid to bid, sir." Stephen bit his lip. Sometimes Mr. Whipple made him very angry. " I am not afraid to bid. Judge Whipple." He did not see tHe smile on the Judge's face. " Then you will bid in certain things for me," said Mr. Whipple. Here he hesitated, and shook free the rest of the sentence with a wrench. " Colonel Carvel always had a lot of stuff I wanted. Now I've got the chance to buy it cheap." There was silence again, for the space of a whole block. Finally, Stephen managed to say : — "You'll have to excuse me, sir. I do not care to do that." " What I " cried the Judge, stopping in the middle of a cross-street, so that a wagon nearly ran over his toes. " I was once a guest in Colonel Carvel's house, sir. And — " "And what?" Neither the young man nor the old knew all it was costing the other to say these things. The Judge took a frim pleasure in eating his heart. And as for Stephen, e often went to his office through Locust Street, which was out of his way, in the hope that he might catch a glimpse of Virginia. He had guessed much of the pri- vations she had gone through. He knew that the Colonel had hired out most of his slaves, and he had actually seen the United States Police drive across Eleventh Street with the piano that she had played on. The Judge was lau 'hing quietly, — not a pleasant laugh to hear, — as they came to Morgan's great warerooms. A crowd blocked the pavement, and hustled and shoved at the doors, — roughs, and soldiers off duty, and ladies and ■^^■- THE AUCTION g^ ;^f ^u-jS^^Z X'H-A''::^ 7^«« tightly to Stephel pmhed hSl^y finely to^hi".*"? uiea aoout before the public eye, meant a heartanhftr w^ stage coach itself. There we« a.e toofa! hS un^„~ *' fa^iy bSUs .„d'5>'"Cf" P^ «' *« haU were tt.e ofte/^-C/S^^'iioSl'^^U'^.^tp^ ffi rf chUdren, now scattered and gone to war. ^^^ "' h« w,fe on her sUver wedding being sold to a ^l^brfker! li'-'wyir-' 388 THE CRISIS Stephen looked in vain for Colonel Cawel — for Virginia. He did not want to see them there. He knew by neart the list of things which had been taken from tl ^ir house. He understood the feeling which had sent the Judge here to bid them in. And Stephen honored him the more. When the auctioneer came to the Carvel list, and the well-known name was shouted out, the crowd responded V. ith a stir and pressed closer to the stand. And murmurs were plainly heard in more than one direction. "Now, gentlemen, and ladies," said the seller, "this here is a genu-ine English Rothfield piano once belonging to Colonel Carvel, and the celebrated Juclge Colfax of Kaintucky." He lingered fondly over the names, that the impression might have time to sink deep. " This here magnificent instrument's worth at the very least " (another pause) " — twelve hundred dollars. What am I bid?" He struck a base note of the keys, then a treble, and they vibrated in the heated air of the big hall. Had he hit the little C of the top octave, the tinkle of that also might have been heard. " Gentlemen and ladies, we have to begin somewheres. What am I bid?" A menacing murmur gave place to the accusing silence. Some there were who gazed at the Rothfield with longing eyes, but who had no intention of committing social sui- cide. Suddenly a voice, the rasp of which penetrated to St. Charles Street, came out with a bid. The owner was a seedy man with a straw-colored, drunkard's mustache. He was leaning against the body of Mrs. Russell's barouche (seized for sale), and those about him shrank away as from smallpox. His hundred-dollar offer was followed by a hiss. What followed next Stephen will always remember. When Judge Whipple drew himself up to his full six feet, that was a warning to those that knew him. As he doubled the bid, the words came out with the aggressive distinctness of a man who through a long life has been used to opposition. He with the gnawed yellow mustache pushed himself clear of the barouche, his smouldering cigar- butt dropping to the floor. But there were no hisses now, f 'je.. f^:^ 5*-i mSi^. THE AUCTION gg, conjecture, as to what h?«,uM S k .*"?'' ?'»»J' "«» the h» old friend. Thie who knew t^."? i;'* "•« ?'»»» <-' were few who did not) pictured VtK "''f' ('"^ "-ere little apartment where h«S ^ ""emselves the dinirv deiraotors might ha™ iid ?f i.- '"' """'^- Whatever h'S^ to av.w that V hTdht n^""' u ""* y"" «™'- he^ ^^ tremor ran through &'Tef^ *|!}".'"»8 '« gain, admiration for the fine old m.n V ^°"'" " h*™ he™ of defiance at those ateut ht?" G?™*^""^^ "''■^ S>»ri»ff SMtent enemv " som« o.rr., '™ "^ * ^'fong and con- « lukewarm feenST ^^^r^eToT^A" '"'* ""^er th» had lived, and now some ^ereTi^™ ^^"^ *« "'•«'«« he had a heart. Verilv ^1^.1^ "i"? 'o «»«!»«« 'hat But it was let out to mlnv ^ \Z^f ^ f"^' "«» home praising him wC sLl n^„ * ^^' »"^ they went 'rith bittemei. °™'' pronounced his name t«=Kuld'lkT;"ht,i8f7 he of the yeUow mus- another bid, L Ju?ge had & "? ""* ^°°' »■"» ""ake total of Colonel cK aiessme* ■? ""V""'' ™' ""e this day how fiercely he frn,^^ i. . '**»"}' "call to forth of itself; andwhen he .?,^J*'° 'he appfau,^ broke for Hm, in admirati» the letTh ofif ^f^ ?""» « f"* he stalked, looking neith«. h, fl • t ''*''' down which foUowed him, th^kful f ' '°thJ%"^'" i^'J^^ Stephen him into the service o?;u^'a*^^y "'»«>' had brought «Vc„Tn:itaJtel''tU^^^^^^^^ IJli"'- "- to put down ti^cwpet, b^t^r^?"- •'.TS'^t them okZ were stood up in the'^comer Md thTS'* ' f^T the n-lls uegroes«pthenar™ws^iltauti&;^. ~g - i liH rf?lS*-*8i&if^f'^;-^«S^''i^.«??^^ - f^-tf 390 THE CRISIS and Shadraoh had by Mr. Whipple's orders cleared a corner of his inner ofBce and bedroom of papers and books and rubbish, and there the bulky instrument was finally set up. It occupied one-third of the space. The Judge watched the proceeding grimly, choking now and again from the dust that was raised, yet uttering never a word. He locked the lid when the van man handed him the key, and thrust that in his pocket. Stephen had of late found enough to do in St. Louis. He was the kind of a man to whom promotions came unsought, and without noise. In the autumn he had been made a captain in the Halleck Guards of the State Militia, as a reward for his indefatigable work in the armories and his knowledge of tactics. Twice his company had been called out at night, and once they made a campaign as far as the Merimec and captured a party of recruits who were destined for Jefferson Davis. Some weeks passed before Aiv. Brinsmade heard of his promotion and this exploit, and yjt scarcely a day went by that he did not see the young man at the big hospital. For Stephen helped in the work of the Sanitaiy Commission too, ^nd so strove to make up in zeal for the service in the field which he longed to gi'se. After Christmas Mr. and Mrs. Brinsmade moved out to their place on the Bellefontaine Road. This was to force Anne to take a rest. For the girl was worn out with watching at the hospitals, and with tending the desti- tute mothers and children from the ranks of the refugees. The Brinsmade place was not far from the Fair Grounds, — now a receiving camp for the crude but eager regiments of the Northern states. To Mr. Brinsmade's, when the day's duty was done, the young Union oflBcers used to riae, and often there would be half a dozen of them to tea. That house, and other great houses on the Bellefontaine Road with which this history has no occasion to deal, were as homes to many a poor fellow who would never see home again. Sometimes Anne would gather together such young ladies of her acquaintance from the neighbor- hood and the cit^ as their interests and sympathies per- mitted to waltz with a Union officer, and mere would be THE At TION 391 One such oooasion oocur-ed on a Friday in J*nn*^ yellow-brown, but the north wind which f^ed the h.~ Anf sS,7.^s' C'.rL^'Xto^'iiS;"'? on f t ^TsS:^^ ^^'^ "» -" - of tJ"^«» fold tS.";^'^." JfSV.''*' P?'l\''l'en .he tojKirte:^tred^%,r;^»'"«^«: oSLTV"- J° '^"' r'™- *^ smoke froHhe euje S^" "™'"« " "» ™'>' "«> tbe hurrying 1^^0,1 to«m^ fe'Jl^f^"""' '^* » "8>>, "how 8he loved »anSd,TnvoMr " ""^"P^'" ^'*P'"° <•*- co;w''noriakfhe't°".Vit"" T^or "'' •^"* T" lei me see them. She made some joke about Spencer m fm THE CHIS18 Cfttherwood running away. What do you think the Judge will do with that piano, Stephen?*^ He shook his head. ♦♦ The day after they put it in his room he camo in with a great black cloth, which he spread over it. You cannot even see the feet." There was a silence. And Anne, turning to him timidly, gave him a long, searching look. " It is growing late," she said. " I think that we ought to ffo back." They went out by the long entrance road, through the naked woods. Stephen said little. Only a little while before he had had one of those vivid dreams of Virginia which left their impression, but not their substance, to haunt him. On those rare days following the dreams her spirit had its mastery over his. He pictured her then with a glow on her face which was neither sadness nor mirth, — a glow that ministered to him alone. And yet, he did not dare to think that he might have won her, even if politics and war had not divided them. When the merriment of the dance was at its height that evening, Stephen stood at the door of the long room, meditatively watching the bright gowns and the flash of gold on the uniforms as they flitted past. Presently the opposite door opened, and he heard Mr. Brinsmade's voice mingling with another, the excitable energy of which recaUed some familiar episode. Almost — so it seemed — at one motion, the owner of the voice had come out of the door and had seized Stephen's hand in a warm grasp, — a tall and spare figure in the dress of a senior officer. The military frock, which fitted the man's character rather than the man, was carelessly open, laying bare a gold-but- toned white waistcoat and an expanse of shirt bosom which ended in a black stock tie. The ends of the collar were apart the width of the red clipped beard, and the mus- tache was cropped straight along the line of the upper lip. The forehead rose high, and was brushed carelessly free of the hair. The nose was almost straight, but com- bative. A fire fairly burned in the eyes. ro^ AUCTION .393 ** The boy doesn't remember me»'' said the gentleman, "» quick tones, smiling at Mr. Brinsmade. 1 " J '.*^V ' ^®'" S^phen made haste to answer. He glanced at the sUr on tte shoulder strap, and said : " You are General Sherman. "Fim^rete"^'" ^*"^^'^ ^^* ^^°^"^» P*"*"» *"»»• ♦'Now in command at Camp Benton, Stephen," Mr. Bnnsmade put in "Won't you sit down, General ? " Wo, said the General, emphatically waving away the chair "No, rather stand." Then his keen face sud- denly lighted with amusement, — and mischief, Stephen thought. « So you've heard of me since we met, sir ? " " Yes, General." "Humph I Guess you heard I was crazy," said the General, in his downright way. Stephen was struck dumb. Rr;« '^^^.^^u*"^^*^'"^ ^"^ "«* »° **»e newspapers too, Brinsmade, the General went on rapidly. "I'll make em eat their newspaners for saying I was crazy. That's the Secretary of War's doings. Ever tell you what Cameron did, Brinsmade? l?e and his party were in Louisville last fall, when I was serving in Kentucky, and came to my room in the Gait House. Well, we locked the door, and Miller sent us up a good lunch and wine. After lunch, the Secretary lay on my bed, and we talked things over. He asked me what I thought about things in Kentucky. Iteldhim. I got a map. I said, *x\ow Mr Secretary, here is the whole Union line from the Potomac to Kansas. Here's McCleUan in the East with one hun- dred miles of front. Here's Fremont in the West with one hundred miles. Here we are in Kentucky, in the centre, with three hundred miles to defend. McClellan has a hundred thousand men, Fremont has sixty thousand, rou give us fellows with over three hundred miles only eighteen thousand.' 'How many do you want?' says l^ameron, still on the bed. * Two hundred thowtand before we get through, said I. Cameron pitehed up his hands m the air. 'Great God ! ' says he, ' where are they to »i J^t 394 THE CRISIS coma from ? * * The northwest is chuck full of regiments you fellov 3 at Washington won't accept,' said I. * Mark my words, Mr. Secretary, you'll need 'em all and more before we get done with this Rebellion.' Well, sir, he was very friendly before we finished, and I thought the thing was all thrashed out. No, sir I he goes back to Washington and gives it out that I'm crazy, and want two hundred thousand men in Kentucky. Then I am or- dered to report to Halleck m Missouri here, and he calls me back from Sedalia because he believes the lies." Stephen, who had in truth read the stories in question a month or two before, could not conceal his embarrassment. He looked at the man in front of him, — alert, masterful, intelligent, frank to any stranger who took his fancy, -- and wondered how any one who had talked to him could believe theu.. Mr. Brinsmade smiled. « They have to print something. General," he said. ^ r s* " I'll give 'em something to print later on," answered the General, grimly. Then his expression changed. "Brins- made, you fellows did have a session with Fremont, didn't you? Anderson sent me over here last September, and the first man I ran across at the Planters' House was Ap- pleton. * What are you in town for? ' says he. * To see Fremont,' I said. You ought to have heard Appleton laugh. * You don't think Fr^montll see yow, do you? ' says he. ' Why not?' »Well,' says Tom, 'go 'round to his palace at six to-morrow morning and bribe that Hungarian prince who runs his body-guard to get you a good place in the line of senators and governors and first citizens, and before night- fall you may get a sight of him, since you come from An- derson. Not one man in a hundred,' says Appleton, ' not one man in a hundred, reaches his chief-of-staflf.' Next morning," the General continued in a staccato which was often his habit, " had breakfast before daybreak and went 'round there. Place just swarming with Calif ornians — army contracts." (The General sniffed.) « Saw Fremont. Went back to hotel. More Califomians, and by gad — old Baron Steinberger with his nose hanging over the register." 5^i,^-?cs?»gr2* THE AUCTION dd5 'Frdmont was a Me difficult to get at, General," said Mr. Bnnsmade. " Things were confused and discouraged when those first contracts were awarded. Fremont wm a good man, and it wasn't his fault that the inexperience of hw^^uartermasters permitted some of those men to get r^°'" ^i<* *\General. "His fault! Certainly not. Good man! To be sure he was -didn't get along with Blair. These court-martials you're having Lere now have stirred up the whole country. I guess we'll hear now how those fortunes were made. To listen to those wit- SSe " ''*^®' °^ *^® ^**"^ '^ ^**®^ *^^ *^® r.S^^F}v'' i^""^^^^ ** ??® ^'^^^^^l »^*1 vi^d manner in which the General set this matter forth. He himself had been present one day of the sittings of the court-martial when one of the witnesses on the prices of mules was that same seedy man with the straw-colored musb^he who had bid for Virginia's piano against the Judge. "Come, Stephen," said the General, abruptly, "run and snatch one of those pretty girls from my officers. They're hp vinff more than their share." ^ "They deserve more, sir," answered Stephen. Whereupon the General laid his hand impulsively on the young man s shoulder, divining what Stephen did not "Nonsense!'' said he; "you are doing the work in this war, not we. We do the damage — you repair it. If it were not for Mr. Brinsmade and you gentlemen who help him, where would our Western armies be ? Don't you eo to the front yet a whUe young man. We need the best we have m reserve." He glanced critically at Stephen. " You've had militarjr training of some sort; ? " ^ **Hes a captain m the Halleck Guards, sir," said Mr Bnnsmade, generously, "and the best driUmaster we've had m this city. He's seen service, too. General." the G^neSJ'clSd : 1^^^ ^'^^ '^^ *« P^^^«*' ^^^^ « It's more than I have in this war. Come, come, I knew .lit I! , - i-' t\ .. : Iv.i •' » If! f...«^;«4 J.^^^^-'' '.-^-'V-i^a^: 396 THE CRISIS ^.^ V"^^^"*-^ ^f^ '®® ^^** ^^^ «^ a strategist he'll make. Bnnsmade, have you got such a thing as a ^map ? " lib^ ^Tk'T^' had, and fed the way lick into the library. The General shut the door, lighted a clear with a single vigorous stroke gf a match, and began t% smoke with quick puffs. Stephen was puzzled how to receive freedom ^°°^* General was giving out with such a rTnn-w*^^ T^ "^^f ^'^ ^'^ ^^^ ^^^^^ ^^^ C^^neral drew ?„?t Sr ^u^ S°^^^* ^""^ P°^"^«d ^ ^^^ state of Ken- tucky. Then he drew a line from Columbus to Bowling Green, through Forts Donelson and Henry. ^ "Now, Stephen," said he, « there's the Rebel line. Show me the proper place to break it." Stephen hesitated a while, and then pointed at the « Good I " said the General. « Verv good I " He drew a heavy line across the first, and it ran almost in the bed of the Tennessee River. He swung on Mr. Brinsmade. "Very question HaUeck asked me the other day, and nat!o^ r f "f ^^^«4 '\ Now, gentlemen, thereVa man named Grant down in that part of the country. Keep your eyes on him. Ever heard of him, Brinsmade? He w»!. *?. ^f* °''''^' *,°J? * y®*"^ ^So be was less than I was. Now he 8 a general. *», "^^^ '•^collection of the scene in the street by the Arsenal fshock ^ °»orning not a year gone came to Stephen with "I saw him," he cried; "he was Captain Grant that lived on the Gravois Road. But surely this can't be the BeTmont » ^^'^^^ Paducah and was in that affair at " By gum I " said the General, laughing. " Don't won- der you re surprised. Grant has stuff in him. Thev kicked him around Springfield awhile, after the war broke out, for a mihtary carpet-bagger. Then they gave him for a regiment the worst lot of hoodlums you ever laid eyes on. He fixed 'em. He made 'em walk the plank. He made em march halfway across the state "^mm- THE AUCTION ^^ of Behnonf ^hen h *boTh *^* ."''"^ "" R«l» "ut mto the town, mi w3t G~n.'°°°.' 'T*'" ""'X «<>* •^e bwk «id chased ^m out S^ tw'^t, ^''» B«^ nver. Brinsmade vnn «.« l ■ '"■ •»»«» on the Grant did the^^t^tLg y«« ?vert''"°V'»"t "»^ horse at the top of the blul wWlefLT' ?^, *"' '"' ^s other tiying to get on tte W v ^^' ?" """ ««•> disgusted, on his* horee smoHn!; ^^' '"■• •■« ««» there, raising pandemoniSm all "±"/d \,'"8"V!?' ">« Rel>^ cried the General, eicitedlv" ,2^ . J"' ^""^ *'"«•'. sir," Hanged if he d dn't S hi \ "*" y"!" '""'^ •■« did? haunehes, slide down the^ho^- 1^°'!^ "Isht on to hi, ride him across a telteiS, pitnk onTV *' '«°'' »■"• the Kebs just stood on^'i^tenk .ni f^ 5***'"'''- And so astonished thev didD't.L„ i ?1 ""« you are useful here. T sL 3^„l ^'^ *«" "•« that to- I don't mean W^ , 'f • ^"P ' 8° '» ""'ms you have feel that you SS r?,; C„"'l'''""*"'^- »"* "*«" yoa -ln'j^o^rteX^^J'4*;.^*-"! liked the Uok .f effu- If! ililtJ 53 sa a ttm: jmm^smsm^^M CHAPTER VI ELIPHALBT PLAYS HIS TRUMPS Summer was come again. Through interminable days the sun beat down upon the city; and at night the tor- tured bricks flung back angrily the heat wi3i which he had filled them. Great battles had been fought, and vast armies were drawing breath for greater ones to come. "Jinny," said the Colonel one day, "as we don't seem to be much use in town, I reckon we may as well eo to Glencoe. ** Virginia threw her arms around her father's neck. For many months she had seen what the Colonel himself was slow to comprehend —that his usefulness was gone. The davs melted into weeks, and Sterling Price and his army of liberation faUed to come. The vigilant Union general and his a^es had long since closed all avenues to the bouth. For, one fine morning toward the end of the previous summer, when the Colonel was contemplating a journey, he had read that none might leave the city without a pass, whereupon he went hurriedly to the office of the Provost Marshal. There he had found a number of gentlemen in the same plight, each waving a pass made out by the Provost Marshal's clerks, and waiting for that officers signature. The Colonel also procured one of these, and fell into line. The Marshal gazed at the crowd, pulled oflf his coat, and readUy put his name to tbe passes of several gentlemen going east. Next came Mr. Bub Ballmgton, whom the Colonel knew, but pretended not to. " Going to Springfield ? " asked the Marshal, genially. " Yes, said Bub. "^ " Not very profitable to be a minute-man, eh ? " in the same tone. The Marshal signs his name, Mr. Ballington trying S»:V lP5^ W ibe Provost MftniTioi _., ;®^ J"8t now." ?°^y in the office'^^^«,^^«d, sweetly. There were It did not pay to Wh Z ^^""^ ^^^^d to laugh hut WM one of GT *^^ ** "^'"^ P«°Ple. Colonel Cirvel in the proclamation of martial i- life less endurable than e^r ^n*"^^^^ '""ch to make ^f fif ated. and slaves set free Thti.^^ ^*^« property oath to be taken bv all cif .w' P®?. *^®'e was a certain guardians appointed over S.n^ ^"^ S?* ^^^ ^ ha ve who swallowS this ZIL id *?J**°«; , There were many Mr. Jacob Cluyme waa If^ 5®^®' '®^* ^y iU effect/ virtuous. It C noT ^Siud f^'"^'* Vf««4 very virtuous. Mr TT/.«^ "Oufual for Mr. Cluvin« f^^Pi ^? it, bJJ'bdffi'caitel^U^^^^^^ -diSn VS! fi^W pie, which he hTne^er ii^?r. ^*^« '^^^ That summer had worn r«^o, rf ^*^*^ **"t once. I^d ^ves hot gasps X7:S' ^^jfr.'^"*- who turns took the Arkansan just a Z^^^i J^ ^^ expired. It to become weU enough t^ TL^I ?°^V¥°^»'« eart He was not preciselvaSonf^^ *f * Northern prison t^P^r^T "*1?hfe^^ -d he CtTo and grateful, and wept when hiTL^. « ^® was admiring, ^nir^'*^/^ guard, LtteJ ^orlwi*^ *^^ *^** ^^"^ g^ia wept too. He had taken L^^^ P"^°- ^ir- (who would have nothing to do^^!H S^*^ ^^«»> ^^e^ aunt her occupation. She nor her f^f^ ^^' *°^ b»*^ given his rouffh *ir1ao «* D " -"' '^^^ father never tirfid ^f uU^^ Wis departure was ahnnt ^if" *™*y* F^ was about th« time when eu^pioions were m El' '^hMbi 402 THE CRISIS growme set. The favor had caused comment and trouble, hence there was no hope of giving another sufferer the same comfort. The cordon was drawn tighter. One of the mjrsterious gentlemen who had been seen in the yicmitv of Colonel Carvel's house was arrested on the ferry, but he had contrived to be rid of the carpet-sack m which certain precious letters were carried. Throughout the winter, Mr. Hopper's visits to Locust Street had continued at intervals of painful regularity. It is not necessary to dwell upon his brilliant powers of conversation, nor to repeat the platitudes which he re- peated, for there was no significance in Mr. Hopper's tales, not a particle. The Colonel had found that out. and was thankful. His manners were better; his English de- cidedly better. It was for her father's sake, of course, that Virginia bore with him. Such is the appointed lot of women. She tried to be just, and it occurred to her that she had never before been just. Again and again she repeated to herself that Eliphalet's devotion to the Colonel at this low ebb of his fortunes had something in it of which she gd not suspect him. She had a class contempt for Mr. Hopper as an uneducated Yankee and a person of com- mercial ideals. But now he was showing virtues, — if virtues they were, — and she tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. With his great shrewdness and business ability, why did he not take advantage of the many oppor- tunities the war gave to make a fortune ? For Virginia had of late been going to the store with the Colonel,— who spent his mornings turning over piles of dusty papers, — and Mr. Hopper had always been at his desk. After this, Virginia even strove to be kind to him, but It was uphill work. The front door never closed after one of his visits that suspicion was not left behind. An- tipathy would assert itself. Could it be that there was a motive under all this plotting ? He struck her inevi- tably as the kind who would be content to mine under- pound to attain an end. The worst she could thmk of him was that he wished to ingratiate himself now, in the '.IS^K?:-: .^.'fii'R. ^ BLIPHALET Pr,AT8 HIS XRHMPS ^ "SJ " ""worthy of her. *''• '"^ P«t even thi. the j;^ '-O 'eH eo.peU«, to .peak .. he, f.^„ on deserted yon long ago fw 8„^ „L?"'"8'"' he would w! would not be fflttiZ ta thTS"*^"'''" P«>«toble. He PlM» (or the budnele when ??/* **>■.»«»' day making She remembered how^?v ^ ^1 " »™f-" the top of hu pape*"" '^J he had «uied at her over ToCrth'^S'^j''"»:^-"tea.id. bn-ke out ta th^^oj"^ ^^I '^'^ «>cond summer riot, "teStelhS/-^^^^^^^^^ toe office of tie Enirluh rvJnSS^^J "^ ™»ny soueht M'JMty'e protection wire v«™T' "'"«<' ohums onT, heads and scandal fXwy%5" "Vi *•■« '«"'• Broken w^^ 7^^'^^ 'o the "^ wUh t^ r"^* *'■»«• "h» d"M Sr- " - -ra^e^inlU-t^t ^^ ^■^ '?> Sd "" ^« ■«" -»«». to fight for the "F-ht f„7t1nou^« «?h'.fo^ t South ? " he asked. ^ Hopper fight . Y tkt rs"?u toS f 1 i ■ f I f pi ^ lit Uifl X fully have 404 THE CRISIS "I reckon not, too," said the Colonel, dryly. For the following week curiosity prompted Virffinia to take that walk with the Colonel. Mr. Hopper being still absen^ she helped him to sort the papers — those grimy reminders of a more prosperous time gone by. Often Mr. Carvel would run across one which seemed to bring some incident to his mind ; for he would drop it absently on his desk, his hand seeking his chin, and remain for half an hour lost in thought. VirginU would not disturb him. Meanwhile there had been inquiries for Mr. Hopper. The Colonel answered them aU truthfully — generally with that dangerous suavity for which he was noted. Twice a seedy man with a gnawed yellow mustache had come m to ask Eliphalet's whereabouts. On the second occasion this individual became importunate. "You don't know nothin' about him, you say?" he demanded. '' "No," said the Colonel. The man took a shuffle forward. " My name's Ford," he said. " I 'low I kin 'lighten you ft little. "Good day, sir," said the Colonel. " I guess vou'U like to hear what I've got to say." "Ephum," said Mr. Carvel in his natural voice, " this man out." Mr. Ford slunk out without Ephum's assistance, he half turned at the door, and shot back a look frightened Virginia. " Oh, Pa," she cried, in alarm, « what did he mean ? " "I couldn't tell you, Jinny," he answered. But she nohced that he was very thoughtful as they walked home. The next morning Eliphalet had not returned, but a corporal and guard were waiting to search the store for him. The Colonel read the order, and invited them in with hospitality. He even showed them the way upstairs, and presently Virginia heard them all tramping overhead among the bales. Her eye fell upon the paper they had brought, which lay unfolded on her father's desk. It was signed Stephen A, Brice, Enrolling Officer. 'show But that P# «.IPHAI,ET PWyg HIS TRCMP8 ■1 liat very aftAnn 1 ^^ fleldj broide h„ father Ti""'P',''» '» 'he w^f .„j AkI T ^"***® '»«' father tk *^, » ^'^ the wood- -^^ w teCX'o'15 £-^ '^crnToj S'^^^ house hiffh abovT ♦!, ?,*♦ *^«y would sit In fk ^'° ^«' a corncob H.» " "'ways detested ninpa ]o„. "**'• The , One afternoon when Vinn • °°"''' K^"' £^^7S » 'Se^t! VJi-- Hop- fi ^r 'r^ ' fet nW- ti'-r - »» *«.e Avenue t^LT V»"'"«?» «nd sober creatPo? J ^'" *.""• " How-dv X S"®' '*®"««- '**™ *«n ■ . I ! 1 i III I 406 THE CRISIS ^W"'* grave him her hand limply. Her greetincf would have frozen a man of ardent temperament. But it was not preoiMly ardor that Eliphalet diowed. The girl paused and examined him swiftly. There was sometlunc m the man's air tcxlay. ** So you were not caught ? " she said. Her words seemed to relieve some tension in him. He laughed noiselessly. "Jjust guess I wahn't." "How did you escape?" she asked, looking at him cunouslv. ** "Well, I dJd, first of all. You're considerable smart, Miss Jinny, but I'll bet you can't tell me where I was. now. "I do not oare to know. The place might save you again." *- o / He showed his disappointment. " I cal'lated it might interest you to know how I dodged the Sovereign State of Missoun. General Halleck made an order that released a man from enroUing on payment of ten dollars. I paid. Then I was drafted into the Abe Lincoln Volunteers ; I paid a substitute. And so here I be, exercising Ufe, and bberty, and the pursuit of happiness." " So you houffht vourself free ? " said Virginia. « If your substitute ^ts killed, I suppose you will have cause for congratulation." Eliphalet laughed, and pulled down his cuffs. "That's his lookout, I cal'late," said he. He glanced at the girl in a way that made her vaguely uneasy. She turned from him, back toward the summer house. Eliphalet's eyes smouldered as they rested upon her figure. He took a step forward. "Miss Jinny? "he said. "Yes?" "I've heard considerable about the beauties of this place. Would you mind showing me 'round a bit ? " ViMfinia started. It was his tone now. Not since that first evening in Locust Street had it taken on such assurance. And yet she could not be impoUte to a guest. .^^ «-"'HAI,ET PUV8 H,8 TRUMPS ^ Oh, Mr. Hopper ! " she cri«l .. m '""K "»«•• it tj e«r ,t hi, air of bei J «t t J"" T" '""^-wd U,„ 'I^i'* led. 5J:^[t,t^^^'» i»to ^ "^'"■'■".d path you „ . »arr^'„/'4l^V"«■P't.teIy, "did I ,,„ ^^^^ 'ho iSX'IC "^P"' i"" handkerchief to her f. ??dde4 wSd"Ci„''Sto'^,'«''»''. ^"^h"^' wi' ill at ea«M» Ti,ro ^ ""^3^ lunnv as hp «t«^j i. ^'^ ^-""^y ■"»' •»" w^ni: 'tX fret' in i-^llm 1 i ■ 1 1 lij ^TrWl-' 408 THE CRISIS i^£Tu°®^^^^ creasing across from the buttons- his face, fleshy and perspiring, showed purple veinL tod th« « wT r^'^?^^ comicafiy, like a pig'J! ^ ' marred " Wn^„T '^""^i^V'^onsol late about getting sTck «T In°f*"lM^' '^4^°S^ *^« '^^ bushes with hh stick. "I don t cal'late to be a sentimental critter I'm not much on high-sounding phrases, and such"wn«k b,S I d give you my word I'd mate a good husUnd. " ^ ^"* ^^lease l^ careful of those roseS, Mr. Hopper." "Beg pardon," said Eliphalet. He began to lose track tt^ *1J^lr '^* ™ ^^V'^l/ '^Sn he ^ve of pLrt^rU jfnnv tT5 ^ °**°'^^. ^^- ^'^i^ ^itEout a c^t, MUs Jmnv I made up my mind I'd be a rich man before I left it. If I was to die now, I'd have kept that promis? I'm ^fl te''ra' til '"''''' '^'' ^^' ^ muKoi^y i'n^ saying wnat i ve got, mind you. All in oronep fim^ I'm a pretty steady kind. I've stopped chew^r-l tW^ w^^^a time when I done that. A^n'd I donT&"nor •j'^^^L" **^ ^®^3^ commendable, Mr. Hoooer " VirmnJo said, stifling a rebeUious titter. " Su^ i?but IhfZ you give up chewing ? " ^ ^ ^"^ "'^ "I am informed that the ladies are agamst it" sairf ^. Ltt*' ~ " dead against it. You wouX't like it S a husband, now, v^ould you ? " This time the laugh was not to be put down. I confess I shouIdn'V she said. took^otf'n^aLY^ttnr^^^^^^^ «^« ^^ thetan.'^^^ ^ ^''^ do J^ L^veTadXVon the lady this seven years." ^ ^ lady r^*' "' """^"^ ' " '«''* Vi'Ki"*- "And the "The lady," said EUphalet, bluntly, "ia ««. " H. glaneed at her bewildered face^and went on «pfZ- " \^„ pleased me the first day I set eves on vn«f^tL .. marrj-. I m plain, but my folks was good peopIe/TaeJ *tmu liUPHALET PLAVfl t.,= ,. He had stopiZ^ ^!?^- , ^ °°« «f the ^"^ caught hlrX 'f- •'*' *"*""» '^r,l "'• 'horn Kliphalnf l.''^ ^ "S'on btosb nf '. suminer d«« Virginia, he. h H i g -j ^•f 410 THE CRISIS face burning with the shame of it. She was standing with her hands behind her, her back against a ^eat walnut trunk, the crusted branches of whicli hung over the bluff. Even as he looked at her, Eliphalet lost his head, and indiscretion entered his soul. " You must I " he said hoarsely. " You must ! You've got no notion of my money, I say." "Ohl" she cried, "can't you understand? If you owned the whole of California, I would not marry you." Suddenly he became very cool. He slipped his hand into a pocket, as one used to such a motion, and drew out some papers. "I cal'late you ain't got much idea of the situation, Miss Carvel," ne said ; " the wheels have been a-turning lately. You're poor, but I guess you don't know how poor you are, — eh ? T < Colonel's a man of honor, ain't he?" For her life she could not have answered, — nor did she even know why she stayed to listen. " Well," he said, ** after all, there ain't much use in your lookin* over them papers. A woman wouldn't know. I'll tell you what they say : they say that if I choose, I am Carvel & Company.'* The little eyes receded, and he waited a moment, seem- ingly to prolong a physical delight in the excitement and suffering of a splendid creature. The girl was breathing fast anddeep. "I cal'late you despise me, don't you?" he went on, as if that, too, gave him pleasure. " But I tell you the Colonel's a beggar but for me. Go and ask him if I'm lying. All you've got to do is to say you'll be my wife, and I tear these notes in two. They go over the bluff." (He made the motion with his hands.) " Carvel & Com- pany's an old firm, — a respected firm. You wouldn't care to see it go out of the family, I cal'late." He paused again, triumphant. But she did none of the thinc^s he expected. She said, simply: — " Will you please follow me, Mr. Hopper ? " And he followed her, — his shrewdness gone, for once. v^-rwrr-^v-^ kT:r ELiPHALET PtArs HIS mvm^ «t was bent forward, as ThouXiS ^"^ ™d hi" BeJd the two, he rose i™ctenTlf .JS**"'"'?-, ^I-™ h" "w * »» she said " ia u * Ti °»°J?«y from this ianl" """ *^** ^^^ i»»ve borrowed had r^^rea'^Z'ro'^'JVf '^^^ ^^^^^ and his soul that L knees sm^t^^^ofc ^jf ^^ him noCso sun as into the Colone?fface InV".'^'« ^'°t« the ha?d m the collar of El Set's „?' '*"^^ ^^ ^^^ a pointing down the path. """P^**^* « °ew coat, the other said steely. '%t ZZ t "f '' *^*^ ^«°«e' sir," he you'll neve^r get jUu. You&w.'S?"V*' ^ "^^^'n Mr. Hopper's g^t down the fla^f J^^'*"^ ^°""^' «r ^ " of his own. It tas neilher a waS^nT \^ *° ^"^^'^tion but a sort of sliding amble snll' ."°' * ^"^t* "o' a run, mares. Singing inViThe^'"^^^.^ ;-«<'"te« weate™ hj^,™ go to your Aunt Lim.n if ^''?° ^o" wiU have t fond of you, and wmCaluC" "/?t »«ni«l He i2 the war is over AnJ t "".""ne in Calvert Hoiiiu ^L I »on't pry Llo y^ur hL^1°" '"""/f «« I Wrtott" down into a good man." '' "^ ^ '»''°™ he wiU quiei ViiSrmia did not answer hnf. vj hand and held its flnZs^'o«kLT^i.^°".' '»' h" father's fhing,intoher^lit«|iS™L"'l^H;^''» «>' a few ^ --»e%H^tShf-rt.-«,g.i:.t 5,/fere^rhi^^.;.'"t^.>JJr»h^ at the «.t. The South had olaimed Cat C '"'^ "^ *^* ^■ ,1 ■ f . • s i] CHAPTER VII WITH THE ABMIBS OP THE WEST We are at Memphis, — for a while, — and the Christ- mas season is approaching once more. And yet we must remember that war recognizes no Christmas, nor Sunday, nor holiday. The brown river, excited by rains, whirled seaward between his banks of yellow clay. Now the weather was crisp and cold, now hazy and depress- ing, and again a downpour. Memphis had never seen such activity. A spirit possessed the place, a restless spirit called William T. Sherman. He prodded Memphis and laid violent hold of her. She groaned, protested, turned over, and woke up, peopled by a new people. When these walked, they ran, and they wore a blue uniform. They spoke rapidly and were impatient. Rain nor heat nor tempest kept them in. And yet they joked, and Memphis laughed (what was left of her), and recog- nized a bond of feUowship. The General joked, and the Colonels and the Commissary and the doctors, — down to the sutlers and teamsters and the salt tars under Porter, who cursed the dishwater Mississippi, and also a man named Eads, who had built the new-fangled iron boxes officiaUy known as gunboats. The like of these had never before been seen in the waters under the earth. The loyal citizens— loyal to the South — had been given permission to leave the city. The General told the assistant quartermaster to hire their houses and slaves for the benefit of the Federal Government. Like- wiTO he laid down certain laws to the Memphis papers defining treason. He gave out his mind freely to that other army of occupation, the army of speculation, that flocked thither with permit* to trade in cotton. The 414 w^. :^'-^?E^ WI.H TH. .KMIKS 0. THK WK8T «« speculators eave thfi r^r.t ^ »o the ^^ i?S.""' •'«"«' nothing, CeU.i"? 'i**'" ^i.£hS£ f^^rfe^^? ^°^" "■■^Sh? r,/"- '"' '^°''''*~^ -»nid be « was a queer ^li Itii Ij il; til 416 THE CRISIS Christmas Day indeed, bright and warm ; no snow, no turkeys nor mince pies, no wine, but just hardtack and bacon and foaming brown water. On the morrow the ill-assorted fleet struggled up the sluggish Yazoo, past impenetrable forests where the cypress clutched at the keels, past long-deserted cotton- fields, until it came at last to the black ruins of a home. In due time the ^rreat army was landed. It spread out by brigade and division and regiment and company, thr men splashing and paddling through the Chickasaw am. the swamps toward the blufifs. The Parrotto began to roar. A certain regiment, boldly led, crossed the bayou at a narrow place and swept resistless across the sodden fields to where the bank was steepest. The fire from the batten^ scorched the hair of their heads. But there they stayea, scooping out the yellow clay with torn hands, while the Parrotts, with lowered muzzles, ploughed the slope with shells. There they stayed, while the blue lines quivered and fell back through the forests on that short winter's afternoon, dragging t^iir wounded from the stagnant waters. But many were left to die in agonv in the solitude. Like a tall emblem of energy. General Sherman stood watching the attack and repul^ his eyes ever alert. He {Mtid no heed to the shells which tore the limbs from the trees about him, or sent the swamp water in thick spray over his staff. Now and again a sharp word broke from his lips, a forceful home thrust at one of the leaders of his columns. ** What regiment stayed under the bank ? *' ** Sixth Missouri, General," said an aide, promptly. The General sat late in vhe .Admiral's gunboat that night, but when he returned to his cabin in the Forest QucuTiy he called for a list of officers of the Sixth Missouri. His finger slipping down the roll paused at a name among the new second lieutenants. " Did the boys get back ? " he asked. ** Yes, General, when it fell dark." ** Let me see the (msualties, — quick." "^ ^«>= ABHIE8 OP THE WEST 4,, look m hi, face that Wed ?n , "' '*i<'''"'- He had . tiTh J'"* ""I '»^X ci'in^d*^ that might 0^ w'th the .Meomplishnient of an „5**. nothing, commped from the city, on the pastv m^£^j ^"•»« the river »e« dumped Shermaff Snt '"'* i""" '*'«'» •»»" bf„H hW'"*' that the Sol ™" r""'' "> *«1« bend of the Mississippi below h„ ""?"" "n™ at the the batteries. Day fn and I^^* °»?"^' ""t of reach of and men. Sawin^off a^l^^ T "»y '"bored, officew Poiaonou, «naItesTy1U"r£,r?r '^ """^f' knSn^ nver roee and rose and^ 3 '■?« ''!™<=hes, while Sf under their tent flies anrt^. ""* ""^ ""Pt by inches th^^«.t^f m„„,.„^ tfe batterliTt-te Sc?^? Witt the'g^/ofe ww"^»""»^ "■^- uniforms 'rVrA™''' "-^k^^ theTe^s^""^ T "K'i^ J?* Y'^^hure side of the river »mK^, ?P*.*"°n "to the air. To be sure H,« .. ?" hailed with cans in ?'«andthesn.CUretobeS« "'.""'"'' "kowSftl^e hkely to be a littlefietZ^ TK '"*' '^^ ^ut there wZ was to stay watched Sf-^J' «f of the corps thM '"^r' '"«-""'«■'>''- --hatting against the ml M.i 418 THE CRISIS t If boughs of oak and cottonwood, and snapping the -railing vmee. Some other regiments went by another muti. The ironclads, followed in hot haste by General Sherman in a navy tu^, had gone ahead, and were even then shov- ing with their noses great trunks of trees in their eaffer- ness to get behind the Rebels. The Missouri regiment spread out along the waters, and were soon waist deep, hewing a path for the heavier transnorts to come. Pres- ently the General came back to a plantation half under water, where Black Bayou joins Deer Creek, to hurry the work in cleaning out that Bayou. The light transports meanwhile were bringing up more troops from a second detachment. All through the Friday the navy great guns were heard booming in the distance, growing quicker and quicker, untU the quivering air shook the hanging things m that vast jungle. Saws stopped, and axes were poised over shoulders, and many times that day the Gen- eral lifted his head anxiously. As he sat down in the evening in a slave cabin redolent with com pone and bacon, the sound still hovered among the trees and rolled along the still waters. The General slept lightly. It was three o'clock Satur- day morning when the sharp challenge of a sentry broke the silence. A negro, white eyed, bedrwrgled, and muddy, stood in the candle light under the charge of a youni? lieutenant. The officer saluted, and handed the Gener2 a roll of tobacco. " I found this man in the swamp, sir. He has a mes- sage from the Admiral — " The General tore open the roll and took from it a piece of tissue paper which he spread out and held under the candle. He turned to a staflF officer who had jumped from his bed and was hurrVing into his coat. " Porter^s surrounded?' he said. The order came in a flash. " Kilby Smith and all men here across creek to relief at once. I'll take canoe through bayou to Hill's and hurry reenforcements." The staff officer paused, his hand on the latch of the door. ^H THE ABMIE8 OF THE WEST ^9 futth" ftol^Srtrr T ^» *»»-u|rh the pain hi8 canoe, winding 1^^^!^?,^ «^ She4an in nnth, risking hi Jfo^f;^^«^th^^^^ black lab^? Th'^^to *^^ »"«boat8 ^'^ ""'^^^ ^ brought to by ^eL:iS!r^i:'^^J^^ ^f ;«W most g„,phieally on the bavou and marchS^tS!^*^^^^ "P Jbe min at worf hitched tie barge to a ^vy tui. \* '^ ^'»«' bow he transport with a fresh lo^Tf t^l^.^""^ b« '"e* the little ?.'^°*» 'eply when the (Sinera ^£,^A^*P^»'> E«jah him. "As long as the bl? k i^^ '^ be would folW amoke-pipea until they went hv fK?^^*'*^""®'®** at the house fell like a pact ^{LrL ^ .^"^ '^^ the pilot! had gone three miCand a^f ^"'^^ ^?^^ beforeTey fJ^«"°J5. disembarked, a lighS cJS^'*. *be indomitabll Jf * !*»«. 'na'ch through tficW ^/^^ '° bis hand, and deep backwater, wherf the ^ttl^l '""^P »°d b^ast. their drums on their heaT At li^?"'^^ boys carried come to some Indian momS- *k ^!°S^b, when they were »ho rode „p to meettt^GSj"'':??'? '^e Colonel Those clumsy ironclads of hU fwl "«» landlocked. >"« '■»«. ma the Gene»i: ig^ve •«„ „„t." l-i 420 THE CRISIS The force swept forward, with the three picket com- panies in the swamp on the right. And prientlV thev came m sight of the shapeless Ironclad. ^^ITtheS^ fSS^ nels belching smoke, a most remarkable spectacle. How t^e'^Ir ^ them there was ce of the miracles of f hJi^f " ^oUowed one of a thousand memorable incidents in nnVh^»^' a memonible man. General Sherman, jumping Z\t r}^^ ?f " ."^^'^^y *»°"^ ^«t«~d through thf Sji .:. A^ ^^^ bluejackets, at sight of that famUilr fig! ure. roared out a cheer that might have shaken the droM from the wet boughs. The Admiral and the Oenend .^ «g?Sv°"'\^^'^''t'^'*^5"^°^"I^- AndtheCoffl «tutely remarked, as he rode up in answer to a summon! that If Porter was the only man whose daring couW ha^ pushed a fleet to that position, Sherman was Snly the only man who could have got him out of it ™""*^ ^^^ " Colonel," said the General, ♦^that move was well exe- cuted, sir. Admirtd did the Rebs put a buult through your rum casks ? We're just a littU tired. And no^» ItJ^^i:- t'^^'''« ?"" ^^^ ^«1°°«1 ^»»«° each ^ a ?i^K ^ h" hand, "who was in command of that company regiur."*^^ '" ^''^^P- "^ ^*°*"«^ ^^^"^ "^e » " He's a second Ueutenant, General, in the Sixth Mis- ?.uL. Captem wounded at Hindman, and flrst lieutenant feu out down below. HU name is Brice, I believe." " I thought so," said the General. Some few days afterward, when the troops were slop- ping around a^m at Young's Point, opposite VicksVrgfa gentleman arrived on a boat from St. iZL. He paused^in fltn ir *^ ^""Tl V^^ *^'**'^™ »°d astonishment the flood of waters behind it, and then asked an officer the way to General Sherman's headquarters. ThTofficer who was greatly impressed by the ^ntleman's looks/led C at once to a trestle bridge which spanned the distance fn>n \nttT ^\«^«' t^ fl««d to a house up to its first flooi' m the backwaters. The orderly saluted " Who shall I say, sir ? ♦' ^™ THB XHMIES OK THK WEST .« g.^'lij^""'"'" '-"""n^., .» the «e„„e^, „,.„ oe *;!"u. JriMm.,!,. if ,f ,,, ^,, _ . -- ~- urant you're '", wedall have been dead of few- ,„">;,/"■' Jfou surprise me," aaid Mr Rr,„ . Mr. Bnnsniade. «He has f.rf 111 [I jfij h 1 422 THE CRISIS always seemed inoffensive, and I believe he is a prominent member of one of our churches." " I guess that's so," answered the General, dryly. " If ever I set eyes on him again, he's clapped into the guard- house. He knows it, too." "Speakinff of St. Louis, General," said Mr. Brinsmade, presentiy, "have you ever heard of Stephen Brice? He Jomed vour army last autumn. You may remember talk- ing to him one evening at my house." " S®\o°« of ™y boys I " cried the General. " Remem- ber him ? Guess I do I " He paused on the very brink of relating again the incident at Camp Jackson, when Ste- p^n had saved the life of Mr. Brinsmade's own son. " Brmsmade, for three days I've had it on my mind to send frr iJiat boy. I'll have him at headquarters now. 1 like him, cned General Sherman, with tone and gesture there was no mistaking. And good Mr. Brinsmade, who liked Stephen, too, rejoiced at the story he would have to tell the widow. *♦ He has spirit, Brinsmade. I told him to * t me know when he was ready to go to war. No such * ^* °®^®' °*"® °®*' ™®* '^"^ fi"* *hing I hear of han is that he's digging holes in the clay of CWckasaw Bluff, and his cap is fanned off by the blast of a Parrott SIX feet above his head. Next thing he turns up on that little expedition we took to get Porter to sea again. When we got to the gunboats, there was Brice's company on the flank. He handled those men 8urprisingl3% sir — surprisingly. I shouldn't have blamed the boy if one or two Rebs got by him. But no, he swept the place clean." By this time they had come back to the bridge leading to headauarters, and the General beckoned quickly to an orderly. "^ " My compUments to Lieutenant Stephen Brice, Sixth Missoun, and ask him to report here at once. At once, you understand I " "Yes, General." It so haopened that Mr. Brice's company were swing- ing axes when the orderly arrived, and Mr. Brice had an axe himself, and was up to his boot tops in yellow mud. WITH THE ARMIES OF THE WEST ,23 of the bi/nwrnlhe™ ^e^l^!" P»?"<' «' the doorway were Mattered aboTsmotin^ „hn ' .*u* ""ff*™"' »ta^ reflected from the riimlitw. . '*'''*• "le sunlieht the ceiling. At l*e S "f tr"' '"'^'^' •'■"'•^d o^ ^ h« uniform, «a always a trir" "»' "™«™' Sher" h»t mth the gold braid Ztntod/*""'^-. «'» ""'t felt booted and spurred, were^^** ='*/!"'' '".^ •>« '««t. Englishman who sought the^;.i f *" ."»°''«'' «>« the in Sherman. * ' typical American found him GeneXv'olj^^'j^.^'^X^ht ^Pl'"'' "ttention was the used in telling k~ Th « *:™\*^' '? '^'' koy^^at he "Sin gives vou a LJJ^ ®*^® "" closing words • — Oenerallf a mn saysf ^ W^, W^ ^^^i' bov| after' a^ my fun just this once ' T& ti^-' ^-1'^ ^"' ^'» have a friend of youw." ^ome over We, sir. Here's otephen made his wav *^ *k r^ -mud from he«l to h«l"> °*''°" "P"" », Brinsmade, om^rrugh^ir mTIL'" "J """""f "»' the stair took Stephin's Cd. """"»•<'« »milel as he rcee „3 :4 tTat'arklSZe^J'ta S^^'V^" •»'<"'- ' "Your mother will he r«V«; 7 . endeared him to all -"1 be Rlad to Wrta S? her^^.,r?f °J! ^^^'^o" Stephen inquired fw Mr« R • "^^i^' ^^ephen." " They are well «iro«^: Brinsmade and Anne little bo^x wLcTyCC^he'TLf "?'S ''^ ^^H to a jn a box of fine ci^i;t>„fh k i"1^ ^»»We Pu? tobacco." **^' although he deplores the use of iU 'iiM^^^;W^^ •':?^^ 424 THE CRISIS " And the Judse, Mr. Brinnmade — how is he ? ** The £[ood gentleman's face fell. " He IS ailing, sir, it grieves me to say. He is in bed, sir. But he is ably looked after. Your mother desired to have him moved to her house, but he is difficult to stir from his wa3rs, and he would not leave his little room. He is ably nursed. We have got old Nancy, Hester's mother, to stay with him at night, and Mrs. Brice divides the day with Miss Jinnv Carvel, who comes in from Belle- garde every afternoon.'^ " Miss Carvel ? " exclaimed Stephen, wondering if he heard aright. And at the mention of her na^.o he tingled. "None other, sir," answered Mr. Brinsmade. "She has been much honored for it. You may remember that the Judge was a close friend of her father's before the war. And — well, they quarrelled, sir. The Colonel went South', you know.''^ "When — when was the Judge taken ill, Mr. Brins made?" Stephen asked. The thought of Virginia and his mother caring for him together was strangely sweet. " Two days before I left, sir, Dr. Polk had warned him not to do so much. But the Doctor tells me that he can see no dangerous symptoms." Stephen inquired now of Mr. Brinsmade how long he was to be with them. " I am going on 'to the other camps this afternoon," said he. " But I should like a glimpse of your quarters, Stephen, if you will invite me. Your mother would like a careful account of you, and Mr. Whipple, and — your many friends in St. Louis." "You will find my tent a little wet, sir," replied Stephen, touched. Here the General, who had been sitting by watching them with a very curious expression, spoke up. " That's hospitality for you, Brinsmade ! " Stephen and Mr. Brinsmade made their way across plank and bridge to Stephen's tent, and his mess servant arrived in due time with the package from home. But presently, while they sat talking of many things, the can- ~-^=pi WITH THE ARMIES OF THE WEST 42S confusedly. cracKer box. Stephen rose fe«t. Where aTth-^^S^^'MrB """" »» '« ">« ing about?" * " **'• Bnnsniade ww talk- Stephen opened the box with alacritv Th. n chose one and lighted it "'""'ty- Ihe General " Don't smoke, eh ? " he inquired. IVe^V'tteA'^erV'* 'ff-'™''. ""■"i «t down. I decided to eoSeloS^dV^ ^k iT""""'"? >"»■• ''"' That isn't strictly «cTrfiZt^lhiT'''V"\.>'°'' ""'• longl*'^ *««*" » <»™ft. «'. and 1 couldn't stod it any thrEirGu:.s"i?'j re«L'r" ^t:i^\ ^"^ -««' - made telle me To^were SuUn' "*'"• ^"^ ^'- «"»«- your rank in tl^eHor G^al V"""'^ "»^''- *'"" *" "Lieutenant colonel, air." " And what are you here ? " "c^Mn^^ih"' f- u ^ -"'* "■»' ">«' "»« different " tena^f^* *'"'y ''° "»'*«' '» y" «>«, a e^^ond-lieu- ^^StepW did not reply at once. Mr, Bri,«made .poke "They offered him a lieutenant-colonelcy." si,5, ^?,"?' ^^^ *^« capture of Fort Henrv ? " Stephen smiled. " Verv well a*>n««.i ♦• i "^Y?^^/ General Sherman I.aSCw;^""'"'' ""^ '^P'"^' And do you remember I said to 1 1 i 1 vou. Bi ice, whcii 4M THE CRISIS you set ready to come into this war, let me know. ' Whv didn't vou d© it ? " ^ Stephen thou^^ht a minute. Then he aaid gravely, but witlyust a suspicion of humor about his moutu : — ** General, if I had done that, you wouldn't be here in my tent to-day." Like lightning the General was on his feet, his hand on Miephen's shoulder. ''^y gad, sir," he cried, delighted, "so I wouldn't." i*M CHAPTER VIII A STBAnes MEKTIKO The ttory of the capture of Vicksburir is th« aM «m story of failure turned fnto success, br wSch m^n ? ' ^ immortal. It involves the historTof a ^i^rJTtl ' ""^^^ retraced his steps, who cared nXrfo^S,^^^ wisdom of St PrZtnt tlF^' ^,°? ^^ 8^'*^* «^ th« lo^L^^ the landW beW, .„d the cutW neid cigar that seemed to ^o with it <5f«T.K«. «'™iy ~ "' ^'"'^'2^' "" ^***" ^^^ ciianged a rl^ » f. 4» THE CRISIS whit. Motionless, he watched corps after corps splash by, h'eaid tteiT^faSite':' "''*"''^* ""^ «"^« "^^ ^^ ^* ^' At length the army came up behind the city to a place primeval, where the face of the earth was sore and tor- tured, worn into deep jforges by the rains, and flunir up n great mounds. ^tnW of the green magnolias anS the cane, the banks of clay stood forth in hideous yellow trunk that still stood tottering on the edge of a bank. Its pitiful withered roots reaching out below. The May weather was already sickly hot. ^ First of all there was a murderous assault, and a still more murderous repulse. Three times the besieirers charged, sank their color staffs into the redoubts, and three times were driven back. Then the blue army settled into the earth and folded into the ravines. Three days in that narrow space between the Unes lay the dead and wounded suffering untold aeonies in the moist heat. Then came a livT ^ ^'"**^ "^^ ^^** ^" ^®^* °^ *^® .u^xl ^.^.™ed city had no rest. Like clockwork from the Missuwppi s banks beyond came the boom and shriek of the coehorns on the barges. The big shells huni? for an instaat m the air like birds of prey, and then could be seen swooping down here and there, while now and anon a shaft of smoke rose straight to the sky, the black monument of a Lome. Here was work in the trenches, digging the flying sap by night and deepiming it by day, for officers and men alike. I^rom heaven a host of blue ants could be seen toiling m zigzags forward, ever forward, along the rude water-cuts and through the hill«. A waiting carrion from her vantage point on high marked one spot and then an- other where the blue ants disappeared, and again one by one came out of the burrow to hurry down the trench, -- each witli hig ball of clay. In due time the rincr of metri m4 sepulchred voices rumbled in the ground beneath the besieged. Counter- A STRANGE MEETING 4jg ^m^^STrTr^r^'ri'L"'"' »«-"' -'" of earth :• Hello, Reb!" " JSnrdyT yS* '^^TJi.''''. ™'*- I'w« •ng, the one for tobacco J5^.L .?°*\»«i«» were etarv- '»«>''• Theae n,J^JZl^,Jl''V '" '»«'tack and 'r~PI»d in the VioffiS ™^ .^ «««. "ometim™ »'de of a homely gteenvM^^, F?"^ °" *•>• "Wte amenitiea were fnauWUn ^S^ ^*' "i""" «»«« otW and diella with ligh^ hJ^^IT^'' "'"> "rown of aoquaint«,o«, Sf the^t tefl. °T" °" "» ^^' wooden coehorna h«,ped X ^ "'"' "P«<"' '«■» tMte^Sof'^f„lr^C--o„^ a .ie^) Not an officer or private if Th J v^u"i? ""^« »"eat. does not remember Kth of Jun^ln ♦k'^."""'«« ^J»o in an afternoon of pitilei heat 4ir^.,*^\^°"^ «^ three mes wound into posftiolTbLhird the ^T,^^^^^^ Wue hid them from the enemy, CO led ifml 5 ^**'"^" ^hich the towering redoubt on the ji'"!^? «^"^« ^hen neavenwarda. Bv commL « ''^^'fson road should rise »d night w«. hSwrSTe^rth S^r?f '"*"' <" ^.y StUlneea cloeed around tL „?•• v*^*"""*" were eUent. more, but not theSei^u h^^J"""* ii. Scarcely thousand bayonei and a hundi^dTh^f "^^ "»^* «^ «fty across the crater'sldire P».fK^ ^^®/^* ^«^ shrieking dust ! Men who iXro^'that ^r'^ "^'"' *"^ ^"^^ ^^ noon died i,. torture u.t^eX J' Ttiel of?^^^^^^ *^*«^- - wid so the hole was filled ***'*^ comrades, il 430 THE CRISIS An upright cannon nurks the spot where a scrawny oak once stood on a scarred and baked hillside, outside of the Confederate lines at Vicksbuiv. Under the scanty diade of that tree, on the eve of the Nation's birthday, stood two men who tvpified the future and the past. As at Donelson, a trick of Fortune's had delivered one comrade of old into the hands of another. Now she chose to kiss the one upon whom she had heaped obscurity and poverty and contumelv. He had oeasea to think or care about Fortune. And hence, being bom a woman, she favored him. The two armies watched and were still. They noted the friendly greeting of old comrades, and after that they saw the self-contained Northerner biting his cigar, as one to whom the pleasantries of life were past and gone. The South saw her General turn on his heel. The bitterness of his life was come. Both sides honored him for the fight he had made. But war does not reward a man according to his deserts. The next day — the day our sundered nation was born — Vicksburg surrendered : the obstinate man with the mighty force had conquered. See the grav regiments marching silently in the tropic heat into the folds of that blue army whose grip has choked them at last. Silently, too, the blue coats stand, pity and admiration on the brick-red faces. The arms are stacked and surrendered, officers and men are to be paroUed when the counting is finished. The formations melt away, and those who for months have sought each other's lives are grouped in friendly talk. The coarse army brend is drawn eagerlv from the knapsacks of the blue, smoke quivers above a nundred fires, and the smell of frying bacon brings a wistful look into the gaunt faces. Tears stand in the eyes of many a man as he eats the food his Yankee brothers have given him on the birth- dayof their country. Within the city it is the same. Stephen Brice, now a captain in General Lauman's brigade, sees with thanks- giving the stars and stripes flutter from the dome of that court-house wiiich he had so long watched from afar. A STEANGE MEETINO 431 floor, i. „ or/ffipo^dtvz tet°i iSii^ «d the Me^Ji'jh-;;,^; ^Me'To^f" Si "" ^ one of the navy's shells °^ °*"°^ '®'" weeping woman came out and^ifK k ^'*"*® °P«°«**' » federatS Colonel oTcavalrv rln ^V, ''^ ? **^^ C°°- arm, he escorted her wfar^ai t£ iSf^^ fir;ving her his bade him good by witrmuch^feSfni "'^^^^ ?»^« movement he drew some monev frnm i,; i ? *™P"J«ve upon her, and starteThuSfy I^av Lrh^'"* '^^' '' listen to her thanks Siinh ««/»? ^ ^*' "® ^^S^^ not actually bruirfeo S^^nT^t ^13^".^!:^ '" tree, he .topped and bowed. "twd-ng be.ide a paM^^S."'' ""■•" ■•• ""• """ritely. »I beg your fo;gtt«'f;V^;'^ay'^^--»"'"'f= "it wa.»y fault .in^°Lh '^'•h ^"•r^ *••» <«'^»'7 Colonel; "mv clum- week we'd been £?oed re^T^'^ ''^'' """• » ■"•«"« seemed to be all breadth, like a MnT Hi. .k i5 ^°''""' incredible. The fara wm JL^?^!l" u"" "lioulder. were ^tt^^ii'ew;™'' "^ """ «'«?•'«■'•"« -med i^^nit qn:-f'£t''wt^"'h^^£i|; Steph^.'. r«.k. "we won't added, with a twi^klt-^^.^been^^Ib'tlLnre^: JS THE CRISIS like ten yoalu since I saw the wife and children down in the Palmetto State. I can't offer you a dinner, seh. We've eaten all the mules and rats and sugar cane in town.'* (His eye seemed to interpolate that Stephen wouldn't M there otherwise.) **But I can offer you something choicer than you have in the No'th." Whereupon he drew from his hip a dented silver flask. The Colonel remarked that Stephen's eyes fell on the coat of arms. **Prope'ty of my grandfather, seh, of Washington's Army. My name is Jennison, — Catesby Jennison, at your service, seh," he said. ^ You have the advantage of me, Captain." ** My name is Brice," said Stephen. The big Colonel bowed decorously, held out a great, wide hand, and thereupon unscrewed the JBask. Now Stephen had never learned to like straight whiskey, but he tooK down his share without a face. The exploit seemed to please the Colonel, who, after he likewise had done the liquor justice, screwed on the lid with ceremony, offered Stephen his arm with still greater ceremony, and they walkea off down the street together. Stephen drew from his pocket several of Judge Whipple's cigars, to which his new friend gave unqualified praise. On every hand Vicksburg showed signs of hard usage. Houses with gaping chasms in their sides, others mere heaps of black ruins ; great trees felled, cabins demol- ish^ and here and there the sidewalk ploughed across from curb to fence. ** Lordy," exclaimed the Colonel. " Lordy I how my ears ache since your damned coehorns have stopped. The noise got to be silence with us, seh, and yesteroay I reck- oned K hundred volcanoes had bust. Tell me," said he : " wfl ;r the redoubt over the Jackson road was blown up, they said a nigger came down in your lines alive. Is that so?" ** Yes," said Stephen, smiling ; '^ he struck near the place where my company was stationed. His head ached a bit. That seemed to be all," ^^r^'^m A STRANGE MEETING 433 didv^^^^^^^^^ .How hJ^uZi)' "^'^^^^^ -^^PP^' -* 8eh — floated down the M^jL- • °®?«" - dare^ie vila, made his way Uck with tiTi T f\^''«^' O"* fellow pride of ou/ VicksburVj^y"°1r^^ 1^^?°^/ »«'• thT chiva^rouB man, a forlofnS Jn Th^ -^u!"'^^' ^ the batteries he and gome otKr^ta^* ^^ ""'^^^ ^o" ™n in skiffs - in skiffs, S wv rn ?T* *^ T" «de in De Soto, that wt^ght ^ ;ZT±'^^ !'% *? *he houses back in the face of our own^tteriT a^""^ '^«" ^« ««™« man was wounded by a trick of fe^^*"^ y«ur aruns. That (rom your coehorns whU^ eLSnl fi'- J* ^"«^d ^^t of shell He's pretty low,now3rf!j&. 5 j^*?",®' ^" Vicksburg. " Where^is hlr^'^L!^Al: »^ded the Colonel, sadlf to see the man. ^^'"^"d^d Stephen, fired with a desiw "PeS:S; y;fm!g\rh:\^rj^^^ "^'K^^ ^^^Colonel. continuS thoughtfully « T^ ^o something for him," he doctor says hefl puU Sm»imh ff k ^ *** "^^ ^"^ ^«- The air and gLi ?c^" te^^^," ^ ?'* ^'^ "»d ^ »r;p. /you ain't fooSfgT^e s^f ''^ * arm in a fK ;;lndeed I am not," safd Stephen ^onjL^liX^^^T^^^^ - ^^ ^-"> " 70U t JtKLtrg^^o^^^^^ eon. -e . a sort of gorge^wS^ tCit^^eVr^^^bSt:^!?: ^^^ 'II tii HI t i I MICROCOPr liSOlUTION TBT CHART (ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No. 2) 1^ 128 |Z5 ■ M ^^^ ■■1 |u |3j2 ■ 2.2 ■^ 136 ■■■i S 1^ u ■ 2.0 I imii 1.8 APPLIED ItVMGE In c 1653 Eait Main Strwt Rochmter. New York U609 USA (716) 482 - 0300 - Phone (716) 288 -5989 -Fox 434 THE CRISIS banks of clay. There Stephen saw the magazines which the Confederates had dug out, and of which he had heard. But he saw something, too, of which he had not heard. Colonel Catesby Jennison stopped before an open door- way in the yellow bank and knocked. A woman's voice called softly to him to enter. They went into a room hewn out of the solid clay. Car- pet was stretched on the floof , paper was on the walls, and even a picture. There was a little window cut like a port in a prison cell, and under it a bed, beside which a middle- aged Ibdy was seated. She had a kindly face which seemed to Stephen a little pinched as she turned to them with a gesture of restraint. She pointed to the bed, where a sheet lay limply over the angles of a wasted frame. The face was to the wall. " Hush ! '* said the lady, " it is the first time in two days that he has slept." But the sleeper stirred wearily, and woke with a start. He turned over. The face, so yellow and peaked, was of the type that grows even more handsoiiie in sickness, and in the great fever-stricken eyes a high spirit burned. For an instant only the man stared at Stephen, and then he dragged himself to the wall. The eyes of the other two were both fixed on the young Union Captain. " My God I " cried Jennison, seizing Stephen's rigid arm, "does he look as bad as that? We've seen him every day." "1 — I know him," answered Stephen. He stepped quickly to the bedside, and bent over it. " Colfax ! " he said. "Colfax I" "This is too much, Jennison," came from the bed a voice that was pitifully weak; "why do you bring Yankees in here ? " " Captain Brice is a friend of yours, Colfax," said the Colonel, tugging at his mustache. " Brice ? " repeated Clarence, " Brice ? Does he come from St. Louis ? " " Do you come from St. Louis, sir ? " A STRANGE MEETING 435 " Yes. I have met Captain Colfax — " "Colonel, sir." " Colonel Colfax, before the war AnrJ .f i,« ™ u 11 to go to St. Louis, i think'l canTave H ~^^^^^^ In silence they waited for Clarence's answfr Stenhp'n well knew what was passing in his mind and SeS at his repugnance to accept a favor from a Yanked Hp wondered whether there was in this case a specTal detesfa! tion And so his mind was carried far to the Lthward Me aLTStf '""I'^^y.^'^- summer-hour o7 he then of ihlril' J'^Sini^ ^ad not loved her cousin f?! tT^V ** Stephen was sure. But now, -now that the Vicksburg army was ringing with his pra se, now that he was unfortunate— Stephen si^hpd h;- « * !: was that he would be the rnstrument.^ '^^ ^'' "'"^^"^ Ihelady in her uneasiness smoothed the single sheet that covered the sick man. From afar came theTound of cheering, and it was this that seemed to rouse h?m He faced them again, impatiently. ^® steadilv^'^AnT/]?'' ^.,f member Mr. Brice," he said ddng^n vfcksbSg'^r^^'' ^^"^ "^'^"^"^^' " W^^^ - ^« Stephen looked at Jennison, who winced. Ihe city has surrendered," said that officer. "Then you can afford to be generous," he said, with a bitter laugh "But vou haven't whipped us yet bv a f o^^^^^^^^ ^"^^' " •^-"^«-' -hy in Mid "Colfax," said Stephen, coming forward, "vou're ton sick a man to telk. I'll look up tfe General It mLbe that I can have you sent North to-day." "^ a prWr^'" ^"^ *' ^'''' ^^'''''" "^^ ^^*^'"^^' ^^l^^^^' " ^^^^ ladl^li'^?li'"^^!'^ to Stephen's face. Bowing to the lady, he strode out of the room. Colonel Jennison run- nmg after him, caught him in the street. ' rou re not offended, Brice ? " he said. " He's sick — 436 THE CRISIS I I k and God Almighty, he's proud — I reckon," he added with a touch of humility that went straight to Stephen's heart. **■ I reckon that some of us are too derned proud — But we ain't cold.*' Stephen grasped his hand. " Offended ! " he said. '* I admire the man. I'll go to the General directly. But just let me thank you. And I hope, Colonel, that we may meet again — as friends." " Hold on, seh," said Colonel Catesby Jennison ; " we may as well drink to that." Fortunacely, as Stephen drew near the Court House, he caught sight of a group of officers seated on its steps, and among them he was quick to recognize General Sherman. " Brice," said the General, returning his salute, " been celebrating this glorious Fourth with some of our Rebel friends ? " "Yes, sir," answered Stephen, "and I came to ask a favor for one of them." Seeing that the General's genial, interested expression did not change, he was emboldened to go on. " This is one of their colonels, sir. You may have heard of him. He is the man who floated down the river on a log and brought back two hundred thousand percussion caps — " "Good Lord," interrupted the General, "I guess we all heard of him after that. What else has he done to endear himself ? " he asked, with a smile. " Well, General, he rowed across the river in a skiff the night we ran these batteries, and set fire to De Soto to make targets for their gunners." "I'd like to see that man," said the General, in his eager way. " Where is he ? " "What I was going to tell you, sir. After he went through all this, he was hit by a piece of mortar shell, while sitting at his dinner. He's rather far gone now, General, and they say he can't live unless he can be sent North. I — I know who he is in St. Louis. And I thought that as long as the officers are to be parded I might get your permission to send him up to-day.'* A STRANGE MEETING 437 " What's his name ? " "Colfax, sir." "No, sir, he didn't." "These vounl\fo"y' '^1 *t' ,?'"^'*^ emphatically. Rril ff °^ ^^°°**^ */« *^e backbone of this rebellion Bnce. They were made for war. They never did any: thmg except horse-racing and cock-fighting Thev rile like the devil, fight like tSe devil, but don't care a S/une sle^AnT W/l^^^h«dsomeof'em. CritteK^had wt* fK^ o',P°^ ^''''^' ^^^ *hey hate a Yankee I I Ifrinltl ^f^""' *r- . "^'« * ^^'^^i" °f that fine-Loking girl Brinsmade spoke of. They say he's eneaged to her Be a pity to disappoint her — eh ? '' ^"S^agea to iier. "Yes, General." "Why Captain, I believe you would like to marry her aT^i^la J"'^ °^^ ^^^^«' -' -<^ ^-'^ try to ^m^' Pol^'^i^^u^ ^o*^® ? ^^^^'^ ^^^ t^at young man," said the General, when Stephen had gone oflF Vith the si p oTpaper ^nv nffi^'''^'' l'"^- T " ^ ^^^ *^ d« t^»t ki^d of a fayor for fm^w?: 'T ''^!? ^ i'*^- ^^d 7«" '^oti'^e how he flared up when I mentioned the girl ? '^ nn'^^i' is.yty Clarence Colfax found himself that evening north's! a." '' *'^ '^^^^^ ^^----'^' ^-^ SI m CHAPTER IX i BELLEGARDE ONCE MOKE Supper at Bellegarde was not the simple meal it had been for a year past at Colonel Carvel's house in town. Mrs. Colfax was proud of her table, proud of her fried chickens and corn fritters and her desserts. How Vir- g-nia chafed at those suppers, and how she despised the guests whom her aunt was in the habit of inviting to some ot them ! And when none were present, she was forced to listen to Mrs. Colfax's prattle about the fashions, her tirades against the Yankees. "I'm sure he must be dead," said that lady, one sultry evening in July. Her tone, however, was not one of convic- tion. ^ A lazy wind from the river stirred the lawn of Vir- ginia s gown. The girl, with her hand on the wicker back ot the chair, was watching a storm gather to the eastward, across the Illinois prairie. "I don't see why you sav that. Aunt Lillian," she re- plied. « Bad news travels faster than good." "And not a word from Comyn. It is cruel of him not to send us a hue, teUing us where his regiment is." Virginia did not reply. She had long since learned that the wisdom of silence was the best for her aunt's un- reasonableness. Certainly, if Clarence's letters could not pass the close lines of the Federal trooL 3, news of her fathers Texas regiment could not come from Red Kiver. " How was Judge Whipple to-day ? " asked Mrs. Col- fax, presently. " Very weak. He doesn't seem to improve much " "I can't see why Mrs. Brice, — isn't that her name ? — doesn t take him to her house. Yankee women are such prudes. 438 BELLEGARDE ONCE MORE <43» ^Virginia began to rock .lowly, and her foot tapped the Buthe"ay,"he° htlM,?" '"^e^ "^ ""^^ to her. day.^, witi, her, n„^/j,VtCt':?d'man/-''™' ^^""'"^ '"■»"' she felt She thou^L offl! 1 1 P^'" ^?^ resentment and sufferinl n The heft l ^^"^ ""l" "^'^"^ ^^^^^ P^i" bed, the onl/lilht of lUeJl'^^- ^'Vf "^ ^'^ ^^« ««"o^ two women.^ Xv came d'K'''i"^ the presence of the never spoke of her snn hn ? « r ?. ^ ^\ ^^^ mother love best? VirBinirmnW „„! T '. Y^'f'' '"' «*«™ed to resented th«. IhTh^rherAlre^'hrn.^'^L^t tt w^rfwitfjenrMrt ITT' ^^^ ^T'/^^y of Vicksburg. 6nlv yeSav V?™i ^™."'5"' dffendere these to Mrf WWddi/?,., f ^ Virginia had read one of face was tumed X^'^l'dirandTh^StenT". '""'.."^ was nnf. fKn,.« f *»*"uow, ana tnat ^Jtephen's mother i( He there says very little about himself," Mr. Whipple ri-f" 440 THE CRISIS !; complained. "Had it not been for Brinsmade, we should nroZt^T*^"'^^^^T"°,>^ ^'' «y« ^^ hi^rand had promoted him. We should never have known of that exploit at Chickasaw Bluff. But what a glorious victory was Grant 8 capture of Vicksburg, on the Fourth of July^ I guess we 11 make short work of the Rebela now." No, the Judge had not changed much, even in illness. He would never change. Virginia laid the letter down, I? wi "!!. .t'^^fi ^? ^^' T" ^ «^« repressed a retort It was lot the first time this had happened. At everv Union victory Mr Whipple would loose^Kis tongue. How short^heref ' *^^ ^^ *^°"^^* ""^ °*^^"' ^^^^^^^ f^U «^2?\'^*^V*^^^ unusual forbearance, Mrs. Brice had overtaken Virginia on the stairway. WeU she knew the girls nature, and how difficult she must have found repression. Margaret Brice had taken her hand. My dear, she had said, "you are a wonderful woman." That was aU. But Virginia had driven back to Belle- garde with a strange elation in her heart. fJT^^^'"'^^- *^^ "^"/^^^ ^^ forborne to mention, and for this Virginia w^ thankful. One was the piano. But she had overheard Shadrach telling old Nancy how Mrs Brice had pleaded with him to move it, tLt h^ might have more room and air. He had been obdurate. And Colonel Carvel's name had never once passed his «f.^.^K^ ? night the girl had lain awake listening to the steamboats as they toiled against the river's current mn^l^T°' ^'^^ ^T ^^"«^ 1^«^ ^^er father at that Z h!SL^^ '° °'°'*?:^ *^^?y ^^«"g«* *h« l^eaps left by the battle s surges; heaps in which, like mounds of ashe^ the fire was not yet dead. Fearful tales she had Crd iL t^/r° ^°'P^^"^^ ^* ^°"^d«d «^«^ lying for days in the Southern sun between the trenches It Vicksburg, ir freezing amidst the snow and sleet at Donelson. ^ rT^ ¥u l^^"?fness against the North not just ? What a life had been Colonel Carvel's I It had dawned brightiy! One war had cost him his wife. Another, and he htS losi BELLEGARDE ONCE MORE 441 "^Tril^^Xt^t't'J t^at w„ a., to h™. he was perchance to see no more ""^ ""'•■• of rain, and tKhl,^i„°" .** ^l"^' "•>"« ">« frois sang She heird th^e^^ttTwre^Js^'S^tr/S """^ '"^ slowly Leaded he st^™vir»rn""'*'°- A gentleman Mr. Brinsmade. '^^ ^"8>n'a recognized him as sail^°"Hrri\m!>ZX''"."'°'"J' •">■»«• "y <»«"." he paroUed by GelZoCt ""P"^'^ " Vicksburg, and is held' r hanT " """■ "' """ "»'»«> '<'"'-^- But he " He has been wounded I " m^^tei'l me-^'l"^^' "^™- ^h, tell me, Mr. Brins- the'rein'r ifghT i^^lf^^c^^r ' ^"' ""^^ "- »" to break the ne^^to hefa^^' ^"*'""* '=''°''«^ "« "a*" folW^-ctrenrhat^'^'lr *'"' f""^ '»='>'' "hich That Us life WM s^vT^ ^^"^^^ ''*» «"» death. •Mammy Barter Th It '^'.due to Virginia and to coifax^flrin'tS C"^(Prvt k '"' r''^'-. »*"• B. sp^ns »hTwepC*";L°4tui:Sy^>;S^edn J^^^^^ : i ^i n •I ^^ 442 THE CRISIS the room and locked the door. She would creep in to mm in the night during Mammy Easter's watches and talk him into a raging fever. But Virginia slept lightly and took the alarm. More than one scene these two had m the small hours, while Ned was riding post haste over the black road to town for the Doctor. Bv the same trust v nessenger did Virginia contrive to send a note to Mrs. rice, begging her to explain her absence to Judge Wmpple. By day or night Virginia did not leave Bellegarde. And once Dr. Polk, while wal'-jng in the garden, found the girl fast asleep on a bench, her sewing on her lap. Would that a master had painted his face as he looked down at her I Twas he who brought Virginia daily news of Judge Whipple. Bad news, alas ! for he seemed to miss her greatly. He had become more querulous and exactinir with patient Mrs. Brice, and inquired for her continually. She would not go. But often, when he got into his buggy, the Doctor found the seat filled with roses and fresh f?uit. Well he knew where to carry them. What Virginia's feelings were at this time no one will ever know. God had mercifully given her occupation, farat with the Judge, and later, when she needed it more, witn Clarence. It was she whom he recognized first of aU, whose name was on his lips in his waking moments. With the petulance of returning reason, he pushed his mother away. Unless Virginia was at his bedside when he awoke, his fever rose. He put his hot hand into her cool one, and it rested there sometimes for hours. Then and only then, did he seem contented. ' The wonder was that her health did not fail. People who saw her during that fearful summer, fresh and with color m her cheeks, marvelled. Great-hearted Puss Russell who came frequently to inquire, was quieted before her triend, and the frank and jesting tongue was silent in that presence. Anne Brinsmade came with her father and wondered. A miracle had changed Virginia. Her poise, her gentleness, her dignity, were the effects which people saw. Her force people felt. And this is why we cannot BELLEGARDE ONCE MORE 443 of ourselves add one cubit to our atatnr*. u ■ n ^ , changes, — who cleftn««« .,« «* suture. It is God who trial.*^ W^y7thn?e hlnnv 1 **"" 'jvity with the fire of And yet^ Sfow manv a?r;h« '^ T^^"^ f^," chasteneth. XTfil dsTeo'rn^Ia^^^^^^^^^ '^^^ P^^oJ'l^ two women sat bv *" V,^^."^®'' »'"»'»>»& beyond, ..hile the e«itement , and he clenchfd W^fi ? ""'"J "'.^"^'" '"«" when he hekrd of the caDturenf I l' ""'' 'j'*'' '" "»" Port Hudson nt\l "*?'"'* ",' Jacltson and the fall of that'he:'rb;tte?he::L'd%;''hofdr I T-^'.""" ■">- when she looked up frorherb,S,fe if ''""il- ^"^ »"<"' dark eyee fl.ed up^on ZXd^Lk in ?h^'ofT? '" interpretation. S^e waa troubled "" "^ *"" ™* noJn °rw^ hircu'ltomT^ •?'j" ''"'^'"'*' '" ">« "«"- rockiKr^^r^iikSu'iJir'''"* '■■'""•* '""-s *•■« alwa/o, a k.--irnal"e- t"v"r S^T^r^'' dashing officer fho r r,t a ^ ^euer to a certain *„-.^ ^^^"'^^^ ^*»e C .nfederate army had been cap- pubhshed in the hateful Democrat gave Virginia news of the Judge, ^vould mention Mrs. lirice. Then face anf Jivtd L ' rr'/"' ""H^'-^-^ooM into his sat but a few mo^ ^ hf -^ ^om^thmg to tell her. He her hand ^"^ '*^* ^^ *^««« *^ go he took tured and rutl It was the Do* and sometimes Clarence would ; ( w 444 THE CRISIS M " I have a favor to beg of you. Jinny," he said. " The Judge has lost his nurse. Do you think Clarence could spare you for a little while every day? I shouldn't ask I u continued, somewhat hurriedly for him, ♦' but the Judge cannot bear u stranger near him. And I am afraid to have him excited while in this condition." " Mrs. Brice is ill? " she cried. And Clarence, watch- ing, saw her color go. " No," replied Dr. Polk, " but her son Stephen has come home from the army. He was transferred to Laumun's brigade, and then he was wounded." He jangled the keys in his pocket and continued: "It seems that he had no business in the battle. Johnston in his retreat had driven animals into all the ponds and shot them, and in the hot weather the water was soon poisoned. Mr. Brice was scarcely well enough to stand when they made the charge, and he 18 now in a dreadful condition. He is a fine fel- low, added the Doctor, with a sigh. "General Sherman sent a special physician to the boat with him. He is — " Subconsciously the Doctor's arm sought Virginia's back, as though he felt her swaying. But he was looking at Clarence, who had jerked himself forward in his chair; his thin hands convulsively clutching at the arms of it. He did not appear to see Virginia. ^^" Stephen Brice, did you say?" he cried; "will hj In his astonishment the Doctor passed his palm across his brow, and for a moment he did not answer. Virginia had taken a step from him, and was standing motionless, almost rigid, her eyes on his face. r^ ''Pl^^ " ^® ®*^^' repeating the word mechanically : " mv God, I hope not. The danger is over, and he is resting ecsily If he were not," he said quickly and forcibly, "I should not be here," ^ The Doctor's mare passed more than one fleet-footed trotter on the road to town that day. And the Doctor's black servant heard his master utter the word "fool" twice, and with great emphasis. For a long time Virginia stood on the end of the porch Ml, BELLEGARDE ONCE MORE un "rSfde^'." »'"••<' »"«'^''.r .oof, at.. ^^'^ Virginia, .it here . moment , I have .omething to tell them in her own. ^ ^ '""®**' *°^ s^® ^^ He be^an slowly, aa if every word cost him pain "Virginia, we were children together here ?*n„n„ . remember the time when I HiH n^f i , cannot not think of you L my wife AH I hTS T' ^^^"/ ^^^ together was to try to wS your aDolaust Th T ^^"^^^ n^hed^roiii-i;: 3vr^^^ - -^^ sad that I am spying thb ' ^' ^' "" * '" ™^^« ^^^ " I have had a great deal of time to think latelv Unn,, I was not brought ud sftrimioKr ^ u ^*^v» Jinny. or pleased any but m3f ,^^ ^"^ f^", ««"«'i st«4d or woJk^"* ?oTw;™ ri^ht'Xn voulolST I mu,t learn «>metlung,_do soLtSng?Ite*ome "of 'i \l 440 THE CRISIS Jl wme account in the world. I am just as useless to- « "2^'„Clarence, after what 70U have done for the oouth r He smiled with peculiar bitterness. " What have I done for her ? " he added. « Crossed the nver and burned houses. I could not build them airain. J^loated down the river on a log after a few percussion caps. That did not save Vicksburg." "And how many had the courage to do that?" she exclaimed. "Pooh," he said, "courage I the whole South has it. Courage ! If I did not have that, I would send Sambo to my father s room for his ebony box, and blow mv brains out. No, Jinny, I am nothing but a soldier of fortune. I never possessed any quality but a wild spirit for adventure, to shirk work. I wanted to go with Walker, you remember. I wanted to go to Kansas. I wanted to distinguish myself," he added with a gesture. But that is all gone now. Jinny. I wanted to distinguish myself for you. Now I see how an earnest life might have won you. No, I have not done yet." She raised her head, frightened, and looked at him searchingly. "One day," he said, "one day a good many years ago you and I and Uncle Comyn were walking along Market Street in front of Judge Whipple's office, and a slave auctiop was going on. A girl was being sold on whom you had set your heart. There was some one in the crowd, a Yankee, who bid her in and set her free. Do you remember him?" He saw her profile, her lips parted, her look far awav. one mclinea her head. "Yes," said her cousin, "so do I remember him. He has crossed my path many times since, Virginia. And naark what I sav — it was he whom you had in mind on that birthday when you implored me to make something of myself. It was Stephen Brice." Her eyes flashed upon him quickly. BELLEGABDE ONCE MOEE U7 " ^\ ^"^ "Jaro you ? " she cried. not realize that he^wrthe fdtl Ihth «: f ] I^Jf ify dress, I tit It''? h^^zffo- :h':s rjr i- He had been there whpn T «.o^ ^ . ^ ^°* '^ack. And-and-yr^T^rtouTe."™^'""" «"»« "«-"• waswa.'^gfo^l'^jj'^^rthe^oi^"'?''' '"""'-J- "' instead. It-it^™ nottog ™'^' *""' ''"^P^'' ""^ '«'«« H:w" rted''?hat'S."'?eorie?S'r''T.' 'r' y°"- JHated," exolaiZl- Y^^X^Z^^^ "^^ oom'^'lll n"ow'- ■*'"'•' ' """^^ '«'™ killed him if I " But now ? " teU y^ ttZ.^'^, :if i ' 'Jf™ not-I could not lying in Vicksburg, anTthe^toM yP.'""* J''>«'^ I was chance was to come North T'l *°''' '"«' that my only insulted him Yet hTtent oThl"^ '"'"^T'' '>'■"• brought home -to you ^4'„il° ^''/^f" ""» ^ad me I have long suspecte^d that h?3^s- ••''' '°™' ^"■'•-'"«' « T ?.' ""' >^ ""'"*' l>lding her face. " No " calmIy!?rxo^bl°r •Sd"'"''^/' ''"/«"''° «»tinued must Luhat he^ioes ^ jf Z ^^ ^^H^^ ^"^^ '^<»' a generous. He kn^w thT ''™™ ""°» to do, and Marry a Yankee I " she cried. "ClarenPP r«u have you known and loved me all mv lifp f W ? -^^' accuse me of this J Never, never, ^vlrn^""' ^"^ °^^^^* Transformed, he looked incredulous admiration. ! ! ni 448 THE CRISIS ♦'Jinny, do vou mean it ? " he cried. In answer she bent down with all that gentleness and grace that was hers, and pressed her lips to his forehead. Long after she had disappeared in the door he sat staring after her. But later, when Mammy Easter went to call her mis- tress for supper, she found her with her face buried in the pillows. .i. 1 I ! ' seemed the shroud upon a life of happiness that was dead and gone. Virginia had not been with Judge Whipple during the critical week after Stephen was brought home. But Anne had told her that his anxiety was a pitiful thing to see, and that it had left him perceptibly weaker. Certain it was that he was failing fast. So fast that on some days Virginia, watching him, would send Ned or Shadrach in hot haste for Dr. Polk. At noon Anne would relieve Virginia, — Anne or her mother, — and frequently Mr. Brinsmade would come likewise. For it is those who have the most to do who find the most time for charitable deeds. As the hour for their coming drew near, the Judge would be seeking the clock, and scarce did Anne's figure appear in the doorway before the question had arisen to his lips : — " And how is my young Captain to-day ? " That is what he called him, — "my young Captain." Virginia's choice of her cousin, and her devotion to him, while seemingly natural enough, had drawn many a sigh from Anne. She thought it strange that Virginia herself had never once asked her about Stephen's condition, and she spoke of this one day to the Judge with as much warmth as she was capable of. "Jinny's heart is like steel where a Yankee is con- cerned. If her best friend were a Yankee — " Judge Whipple checked her, smiling. " She has been very good to one Yankee I know of," he said. " And as for Airs. Brice, I believe she worships her." " But when I said that Stephen was much better to-day, she swept out of the room as if she did not care whether he lived or died." " Well, Anne," the Judge had answered, " you women are a puzzle to me. I guess you don't understand your- selves," he added. That was a strange month in the life of Clarence Col- fax, — the last of his recovery, while he was waiting for m JUDGE WHIPPLE'S OFFICE 461 be!u«fuf iJ^Z^'r^T' »«"«8:*'de was never more place run down because a great war was in proL«, StoT'nl' *'' ^"*^^^'^ 'V^ ^«* conse^r'aTh" fortune to it. Clarence gave as much as he oould. »,T J^^u^*®''°°''°^ VirgTuia and he would sit in the shaded arbor seat ; or at the cool of the day descend to the bench on the lower tier of the summer garden to steep, as it were, in the blended perfumes of the^Joses and the mignonettes and the pinks."^ He was soberer han of Tn her sZ f'''"^^ *^' "^«^^^ he pondered on the change m her. She, too, was grave. But he was tioubled to sZtTh^' r^^'?' ^'l ^^^''^'y- Was this merely strength of character, the natural result of the trials through which she had passed, the habit acquired of being fortPdl^''/"'^ comforter instead of the helped and com? torted? Long years afterward the brightly colored portrait of her remained in his eye, - the^simple Hnen gown of pmk or white, the brown hair shinTng in the Zu!dof'"Jr'^''^r'' ^^ *^« ^'^^' And tie Sa t! Sw of war '"" ^""^^ everywhere, far from the Sometimes, when she brought his breakfast on a tray in the morning, there was laughter in her eyes. In the days gone by they had been all laughter. ^ ov Jr f Jv^""^ f?^*^*^- S^e was to be his wife. He said it over to himself many, many times in the day. He would W lnnl?T' ^^^'1? ^^? f^^ "P«° ^^^ "^til she lifted her look to his, and the rich color flooded her face. He was not a lover to sit quietly by, was Clarence. And yet, not that she did not respond to his advances: he did not make them Nor could he have told why. Was it ?he chivalry inherited from a long life of Colfaxes who were &Tor f^^in^^ttr."^- ''-'''''' ^' -^ ^^<^^^^ tA^ wiT^^S '^''''^ °°' ^°d the time drew near for him to go back .0 the war, a state that was not quite estrange- ment, and yet something very like it, wt in. Poor f if! m V i ; 452 THE CRISIS Clarence ! Doubts bothered him, and he dared not g^ve them voice. By night he would plan his speeches, — impassioned, imploring. To see her in her marvellous severity was to strike him dumb. Horrible thought ! Whether ohe loved him, whether she did not love him, she would not give him up. Through the long years of their lives together, he would never know. He was not a weak man now, was Clarence Colfax. He was merely a man possessed of a devil, enchained by the power of self -repression come upon her whom he loved. And day by day that power seemed to grow more in- tense, — invulnerable. Among her friends and in the little household it had raised Virginia to heights which she herself did not seem to realize. She was become the mistress of Bellegarde. Mrs. Colfax was under its sway, and doubly miserable because Clarence would listen to her tiradjs no more. " When are you to be married ? " she had ventured to ask him once. Nor had she taken pains to hide the sar- casm in her voice. His answer, bringing with it her remembrance of her husband at certain times when it was not safe to question him, had silenced her. Addison Colfax had not been a quiet man. When he was quiet he was dangerous. " Whenever Virginia is ready, mother," he had replied. Whenever Virginia was ready ! He knew in his heart that if he were to ask her permission to send for Dr. Posthelwaite to-morrow that she would say yes. To- morrow came, — and with it a great envelope, an official answer to Clarence's report that he was fie for duty once more. He had been exchanged. He was to proceed to Cairo, there to await the arrival of the transport Indian- apolis, which was to carry five hundred officers and men from Sandusky Prison, who were going back to fight once more for the Confederacy. O that they might have seen the North, all those brave men who made that sacri- fice I That they might have realized the numbers and the resources and the wealth arrayed against them ! It was a cool day for September, a perfect day, an auspi- IK JUDGE WHIPPLE'S OFFICE 453 Thi^fS'fT^ ^®* '* T*°* ***! ^»y «^ *h« others before it. This was the very fulness of the year, the earth giving ?anwl T'*°,T ''^^" °^**""*y' th« corn in ma3 ranks, with golden plumes nodding. The forest stiU in pat&7nd A??S- 7^^ 7v?^^i^ ^^ «^^^"- the fa" ?ai!r.'l 1 !?• :.°^*?P^°? *he ^ate ^•oses for the supper who had begun to hurry on his southward journey went iit^h S'r* ^¥^T ^l«*h«« Cl«^«°«« w^ to?aft with him had been packed by Virginia in his bag, and theTwo when nT/^"^ "^ '^' twmghf on the steps^'of the houTe! when Ned came around the corner. He called his younij mjBtress by name, but she did not hear him. He caUe! again. "Miss Jinny!" She started as from a sleep, and paused. fh., - * '• Johnson," 8ai(f she, and smiled. He wore that air of mystery so dear to darkeys. "Gemmen to see you, Miss Jinny." "A gentleman ! " she said in surprise. « Where ? " " ThM f "° P°'°*®^ ^ *^® ^^° shrubbery. " What's all this nonsense, Ned ? " said Clarence, sharply. If a man is there, bring him here at once. " ^ ^ « w. / * I ¥ ^^^'^ ''°°'®' ^^'•se Cla'ence." said Ned. "He fearful skeered ob de light ob day. He got suthin' very pertickler fo' Miss Jinny." ^ ^ ° " 5** ^°^ ^°°^ h^ ^ " Clarence demanded. Robimson^'""^®^^""^®***^"^ ^'^ ^^^ '""'• ^""®'« LoJ^i® ^ord was hardly out of his mouth before Virginia had leaped down the four feet from the porch to the flower-bed and was running across the lawn toward the shrubbery. Parting the bushes after her, Clarence found ?i^K°"''" .^^o^fronting a large man, whom he recognized i wwP?!.^^'' brought messages from the South. What s the matter. Jinny ? " he demanded. « w. r* ^°* through the lines," she said breathlessly. He — he came up to see me. Where is he, Robinson ? " .1 M :i y ■f ^: i 454 THE CRISIS •'He went to Jud^e Whipple's rooms, ma'am. They say the Judge is dyine. I reckoned you knew it, Miss Jinny," Robinson added contritely. " Clarence," she said, " I must go at once." " I will go with vou," he said ; "you cannot go alone." In a twinkling Ned and Sambo had the swift pair of horses harnessed, and the light carriage was flying over the soft clay road toward the city. As they passed Mr. Brinsmade's place, the moon hung like a great round lan- tern under the spreading trees about the house. Clarence caught a glimpse of his cousin's face in the light. She was leaning forward, her gaze fixed intently on the stone posts which stood like monuments between the bushes at the entrance. Then she drew back again into the dark corner of the barouche. She was startled by a sharp challenge, and the carriage stopped. Looking out, she saw the provost's guard like black card figures on the road, and Ned fumbling for his pass. On they drove into the city streets until the dark bulk of the Court House loomed in front of them, and Ned drew rein at the little stairway which led to the Judge's rooms. Virginia, leaping out of the carriage, flew up the steps and into the outer office, and landed in the Colonel's arms. "Jinny I" " Oh, Pa I " she cried. " Why do you risk your life in this way ? If the Yankees catch you — " "They won't catch me, honey," he answered, kissing her. Then he held her out at arm's length and gazed earnestly into her face. Trembling, she searched his own. " Pa, how old you look I " " I'm not precisely young, my dear," he said, smiling. His hair was nearly white, and his face seared. But he was a fine erect figure of a man, despite the shabby clothes he wore, and the mud-bespattered boots. "Pa," she whispered, "it was foolhardy to come here. Why did you come to St. Louis at all ? " "1 came to see you. Jinny, I reckon. And when I got home to-night and heard Silas was dying, I just couldn't .-■ i-r-^ -'-^v IN JUDGE WHIPPLE'S OFFICE 4Sft resist. He's the oldest friend Fve got in St. Louis, honev. and now — now — " "^ " Pa, you've been in battle ? " "Yes/' he said. "And you weren't hurt; I thank God for that," she whispered. After a while : " Is Uncle Silas dying? " "Yes, Jinny ; Dr. Polk is in there now, and says that he can t last through the night. Silas has been asking for you, honey, over and over. He says you were very good to him,— that you and Mrs. Brice gave up evervthini? to nurse him." *- .^ e "She did," Virginia faltered. "She was here night and day until her son came home. She is a noble woman — " "Her son?" repeated the Colonel. "Stephen Brice? Silas has done nothing the last half-hour but call his name. He says he must see the boy before he dies. Polk says he is not strong enough to come." " Oh, no, he is not strong enough," cried Virginia. The Colonel looked down at her queerly. " Where is Clarence ? " he asked. She had not thought of Clarence. She turned hurriedly, glanced around the room, and then peered down the dark stairway. " Why, he came in with me. I wonder why he did not follow me up?" " Virgfinia." "Yes, Pa." " Virginia, are you happy ? " "Why, yes. Pa." "Are you going to marry Clarence ? " he asked. "I have promised," she said simply. Then after a long pause, seeing her father said nothing, she added, " Perhaps he was waiting for you to see me alone. I will go down to see if he is in the carriage." The Colonel started with her, but she pulled him back in alarm. " You will be seen. Pa," she cried. « How can you \m so reckless?" ! S ': it f i .< s i I 4M THE CBISI8 He stayed at the top of the passage, holding open the door that she might have light. When she reached the sidewalk, there was Ned standing beside the horses, and the carriage empty. "Nedl^' " Yass'm, Miss Jinny." " Where's Mr. Clarence ? *' " He done gone, Miss Jinny." " Gone ? " " Yass'm. Fust I seed was a man plump out'n Will- ums's. Miss Jinny. He was a-ewine shufflin up de street when Marse Cla'ence put out alter him, pos' has'e. Den he run." She stood for a moment on the pavement in thought, and paused on the stairs again, wondering whether it were best to tell her father. P' rhaps Clarence had seen — she caught her breath at th thought and pushed open the door. »» Oh, Pa, do you thi^k you are safe here ? " she ^ried. " Why, yes, honey, I reckon so," he answered. " ere's Clarence ? " "Ned says he ran after a man who was hiding in an entrance. Pa, I am afraid they are watching the place." " I don't think so, Jinny. I came here with Polk, in his buggy, after dark." Virginia, listening, heard footsteps on the stairs, and seized her father's sleeve. " Think of the risk you are running. Pa," she whispered. She would have dragged him to the closet. But it was too late. The door opened, and Mr. Brinsmade entered, and with him a lady veiled. At sight of Mr. Carvel Mr. Brinsmade started back in surprise. How long he stared at his old friend Virginia could not say. It seemed to her an eternity. But Mrs. Brice has often told since how straight the Colonel stood, his fine head thrown back, as he returned the glance. Then Mr. Brinsmade came forward, with his hand outstretched. " Comyn," said he, his voice breaking a little, " I have IN JUDGE WHIPPLE'S uFFlCB 457 Yora!J/;^"f« l^»H «"^ r^ a. a man c unsUined honor. S ^t^^?'^*^""*®- I "It no question,. GodwiUiudire whether I have done my duty. " ' ^ Mr. Carvel took his friend's hand. " Tmnk you, Calvin " he said. " I give you my word of honor as agentleman that I came into this city for no other n ^son than to see my daughter. And hea^ng that my old friend w^dWng I could not resist the temptation, sir — " ^^ Mr. Brinsmade finished for him. And h s voice shook. To come to his bedside. How many mei. do you think would nsk their lives so, Mrs. ' -? ♦' ^ «Th^nl ?n7^ '"-if ^' ^J: ! «^^'" "^ answered, mlc'ron h^'nS^d"'" "'^^ '" ' ' ' ^"«^ ^' »^- ^- The Colonel bowed over h«r a»^. Ja tf^J i° ^'% '^ame madam, ^ the name of my oldest and best fn nd, -- 1 thank voo u ^baty.^ have ine for him. I trust that you will all..»n)3 to add tlm. I have learned from my daughter to r.«w,ect ^ti mdmire voj T hope that your son is doing w&ll.^* ^ ' fhlfVr "■ *J'*''^ ^''"J ?**^°^^* ^»^^ " ^ but knew i«!: I . "^ ,r'® *^y'?8^» ' ***^^ *»«*^ ^v e kept him at home. hi. oik says that h mu«« nm i«ive the house, or undergo anv excitement." « "uu«j, Polrcamrout *^ h' "V '""* "^^ ***''^^' ''°*^ ^'• Mr. Brinsmade, and he patted Virjg^? « "The Judge is still asleep," he «»c atly. "And — nemay not wake up in this world." Silently sadly, they went together ,nio that little room Snw 1,-ffl "'*" ''^r Judge Whipple's ife had l,een spent. How httlt, it was I And how completely thev HUed ft, — ul^ nWK^'^Pv- *°^. *^' big Rotkeld qpveied with the black cloth. Virginia pressed her father's arm as they leaned against it, and brushed her eyes. The Doctor turned the wick of the night-lamp. ArZ^^ I? **?* upon the sleeper's face from which they U^hTtww^Ti^- Yes, and a light. The divine light which IS shed upon those who have lived for 1 II >l 4M THE CRISIS others, who have denied themselves the lusts of the flesh. For a long space, perhaps an hour, ti*ey stayed, silent save for a low word now and again from the Doctor as he felt the Judy's heart. Tableaux from the past floated before Virginia's eyes. Of the old days, of the happy days in Locust Street, of the Judge quarrelling with her father, and she and Captain Lige smiling near by. And she remembered how sometimes when the con- troversy was finished the Judge would rub his nose and say : — " It's my turn now, Lige." Whereupon the Captain would open the piano, and she would play the hymn that he liked best. It was " Lead, Kindly Light." What was it in Silas Whipple's nature that courted the pam of memories? What pleasure could it have been all through his illnefw ^c look upon this silent and cruel reminder of davs gont oy forever? She had heard that btephen Brice had been with the Judge when he had bid It in. She wondered that he had allowed it, for they said that he was the only one who had ever been known to break the Judge's will. Virginia's eyes rested on Mar- garet Brice, who was seated at the head of the bed smooth- ing the pillows. The strength of Stephen's features were in here, but not the ruggedness. Her features were large, indeed, yet stanch and softened. The widow, as if feel- ing Virginia's look upon her, glanced up from the Judge's face and smiled at her. The girl colored with pleasure, and again at the thought which she had had of the likeness between mother and son. Still the Judge slept on, while they watched. And at length the thought of Clarence crossed Virginia's mind. Why had he not returned? Perhaps he was in the office without. Whispering to her father, she stole out on tip- toe. The office was empty. Descending to the street, she was unable to gain any news of Clarence from Ned, who was becoming alarmed likewise. Perplexed and troubled, she climbed the stairs ao-ain. No sound came from the Judge's room. Perhaps 6lar- IN JUDGE WHiPPLE'8 OFFICE m^ w- ir^o^r ^l ** r°/ "*°"*"'^ P^'-^^P- her father ^dLk^^^^, She «at jown to think, -hVr elbow, on the desk in front of her, her chin in her hand, her eves at the level of a line of book, which .tood on eudlclwl PUadtngi, Blacku»■> "Tell me alwut him," said Stephen, eentlv been, and th^^ I'e Z deri^dT^ Sttl^en'^ttt'""' dreams of her! ?hX"te?v oWS).''''* T °J "»« """y beyond our ken »»„ ^j "'' ""* "' *« '-ner life hadn„t"ebeIlfoLZl°°'?°"" ? '™« "^en she Hste>,ed to he? v"ce wrth^fr"'"- ■/"'? '"'"-^ ^e modulations, M he it the^nt?'*"""''.'?'' *"■«» «•"' rc'SetrTnVsrr "terr r' *»*"^^ God uses to tie the wnrlTV Ju '"^i^^^tic force which her. Andyej'JhXiSn'reatL"" "^"'^ ""^ '» of I^t^ran^rto^Vr-rsto^'lT^Lrr- °r the'g^s'f^Ks hir Sor^'rr''/'* "^ "y- pact springy. The Southerner's eve for fw iL T qSneifcxS-S tSS-? s i: -i i I . •arhr. « ,. T • "***^^ "' eiDotion 1 Who %Hs listening intently failed to mark it. w^'^w^-iW^^'^^m-'i 464 THE CRISIS "I am glad to see that you have reooyered, Oolonel Colfax," he said. "I should indeed be without gratitude if I did not thank Captain Brice for my life,'^ answered Clarence. ' Virginia flushed. She had detected the undue &o-. cent on her cousin's last words, and she glanced apprehen- sively at Stephen. His forceful reply surprised them both. " Miss Carvel has already thanked me sufficiently, sir," he said. " I am happy to have been able to have done you a good turn, and at the same time to have served her so well. It was she who saved your life. It is to her your thanks are chiefly due. I believe that I am not going too far, Colonel Colfax," he added, " when I con- gratulate you both." Before her cousin could recover, Virginia slid down from the desk and had come between them. How her eyes shone and her lip trembled as she gazed at him, Stephen has never forgotten. What a woman she was as sho took her cousins arm and made him a curtsey. " What you have done may seem a light thing to you. Captain Brice," she said. "That is apt to be the way with those who have big hearts. You have put upon Colonel Colfax, and upon me, a life's obligation." When she began to speak, Clarence raised his head. As he glanced, incredulous, from her to Stephen, his look gradually softened, and when she had finished, his man- ner had become again frank, boyish, impetuous — nay, penitent. He seized Stephen's hand. "Forgive me, Brice," he cried. "Forgive me. I should have known better. I — I did you an injustice, and you, Virginia. I was a fool — a scoundrel." Stephen shook his head. " No, you were neither," he said. Then upon his face came the smile of one who has the strength to renounce all that is dearest to him — that smile of the unselfish, sweetest of all. It brought tears to Virginia. She was to see it once again, upon the features of one who bore a cross, — Abraham Lincoln. Clarence looked, and then be m JUDGE WHIPPLE'S OFFICE 465 warbuTCr/l.^^^^' '» «"> '^"^y> » one who "J'^»"'"»l»e whispered.' stanCtotro^tigrS- '" '^'P'"'"' -"» "« " Captain Brice I " " Yes," he answered. " My father is in the Judire's room » «>. • j " Your fathflr f »» i,^ i *^ ^^™' ^*^® said. "TK-Vv hetxclaimed. "I thought " ^^P^'tTJ^.tZX'^.'i^^^^y- so Stephen stared at her, troubled '^nj J 1 u ehan^d She took . stepwi h^"'^;;^^,"-" gose^than to see n.e' '^.^CZ^-^\^: f^C " Ym/?" 8*™" •"« "ord to Mr. Brinsmade ? " « noT'Cmrj' qS:- ""'"' ^''^ «™™'«^« -otions Then he ^^n'^^^ZX^^'^SZ^^ ^^^^T 2k CHAPTER XI LEAD, KINDLY LIGHT When the Judge opened his eyes for the last time in this world, they fell first upon the face of his old friend, Colonel Carvel. Twice he tried to speak his name, and twice he failed. The third time he said it faintly. « Comyn I " ^ "Yes, Silas." " Comyn, what are you doing here ? " "I reckon I came to see you., Silas," answered the Colonel. " To see me die," said the Judge, grimly. Colonel Carvel's face twitched, and the silence in that little room seemed to throb. " Comyn," said the Judge again, " I heard that you had gone South to fight against your country. I see you here. Can it be that you have at last returned in your {dlegiance, to the flag for which your forefathers died ? " Poor Colonel Carvel I " I am still of the same mind, Silas," he said. The Judge turned his face away, his thin lips moving as in prayer. But they knew that he was not praying. " Silas," said Mr. Carvel, " we were friends for twenty years. Let us be friends again, before — " " Before I die," the Judge interrupted. " I am ready to die. Yes, I am ready. I have had a hard life, Comyn, and few friends. It was my fault. I — I did not know how to make them. Yet no man ever valued those few more than I. But," he cried, the stern fire unquenched to the last, " I would that God had spared me to see this Rebellion stamped out. For it will be stamped out." To those watching, his eyes seemed fixed on a distant point, 466 LEAD, KINDLY LIGHT Amid profoiinienrheCnliVl"" ""» »'«'•" from wh£h he had S h?. STl '^''. "" *•>« Pi'lows it was btephen's mother who sdoWp ♦» w i j might lUten to:itttog Vi^T" r^^r* ^* ''« fi'ici^m7.?if-£Hir^^.!t:|^ him, 'No, sir, I am not Senator WiSi» °* ' ^* relation of h s/ « the Sn Y.H ^^'t' f "* ' *«» "« after that, Mrs. Brice he mtl^ h ^'^^^^ ^ ^^^ *» ^^e easier_a litSe sweeter Tknnr^w ^.t °^^ "^« * lit«« like that. But it wm bv in-? *M*^^^ *^^ ^o* all embittered when I wTaW-Hpt *^'T *5** ^ ™ spoke again, it was m^rj s'S'wly, m:rf7^l'?i:'''- *^1 them had heard him sneak in ill i?- i/^ V ' *"*° a^J' of that some of the Wernts w^i^ ^'^^ ^^°'^- " I ^«h come to me thenl S'^^^^f^^^^ ^°\ ^^'^vujg now had my little share in makinlTKf L ^J^'S^^ have done live in, as all of ^ou h^f done'^'^Yes' ^"^n *'^. P^*^« *° now doing for me T am lil ° .?^®^' *^ **" ^^ you are opinion of frthr I I'e" t^ Me't'od^i^dl''^"" been softened Ihen ? tank T^'^^t ff"' ' """'-> I^™ He did." '*""■* '^'^ that He sent you when pilW. "''"" "^"""l l"" head, and a tear feU upon hia m 468 THE CRISIS ** I have done nothing,** she marmored, ** nothing." ** So shall they answer at the last whom He has chosen,** said the Judge. " I was sick, and ye visited me. He has Eromised to remember those who do that. Hold up your ead, my daughter. God has been good to you. He has given you a son whom all men may look in the face, of whom you need never be ashamed. Stephen," said the Judge, "come here." Stephen made his way to the bedside, but because of the moisture in his eves he saw but dimly the gaunt face. And yet he shrank back in awe at the change in it. So must all of the martyrs have looked when the fire of the faggots licked their feet. So must John Bunyan have stared through his prison bars at the sky. " Stephen, ' he said, " you have been faithful in a few things. So shall you be made ruler over many things. The little I have 1 leave to you, and the chief of this is an untarnished name. I know that you will be true to it because I have tried your strength. Listen carefully to what I have to say, for I have thought over it long. In the days gone by our fathers worked for the good of the people, and they had no thought of gain. A time is com- ing when we shall need that blood and that bone in tnis Republic. Wealth not yet dreamed of will flow out of this land, and the waters of it will rot all save the pure, and corrupt all save the incorruptible. Half-tried men will go down before that flood. You and those like you will remember how your fathers governed, — strongly, sternly, justly. It was so that they governed themselves. Be vigilant. Serve your city, serve your state, but above all serve your country." He paused to catch his breath, which was coming pain- fully now, and reached out his bony hand to seek Stephen's. " I was harsh with you at first, my son," he went on. "I wished to try you. And when I had tried you I wished your mind to open, to keep pace with the growth of this nation. I sent you to see Abraham Lincoln — that you might be bom again — in the West. You were bom again. I saw it when you came back. I saw it in LEAD, KINDLY LIGHT 449 CoaMli«t°l,P'^"J"' «":?'• ^^ '"dde" eloquence. hi8 apirit might possess their 8pii?t I " °"^^ *^** ine last word was scarcely audible Thnv «fonf^j * doS^y *^ "^^ '<""■• ^-ffl^K ««» robbing, from the " You «n't gwine away, Marae Jedge ? " I J:te^'^'^tffiS,.^»- ■'-e se^ed me weU. no:e°o"^^&"J:;er^:L'r^i'^rt^etrs^'~ man was against me. Yon -y"S We ^k^lf ZT ^;^H^!CJe^Sed.^"^'''»^«-^^^'"^-^^^ "Uncle Silas I » she faltered. wet upon her.laShes as she u^Jid the'buUon a^TsThJolT There, on apiece of cotton twine, hun^ a little kev S^I took It off, but still his hands held her. ^* ^^^ 1 I ^^'S; 470 THE CRISIS "I have taved it for you, my dear," he said. "God blew you— why did his eyes seek Stephen's?— "and make your life happy. Virginia — will you play my — hymn — once more — once more?" They lifted the night lamp from the piano, and the medicine. It was Stephen who stripped it of the black cloth it had worn, who stood by Virginia ready to lift the hd when she had turned the lock. The girl's exaltation gave a trembling touch divine to the well- remembered chords, and those who heard were lifted, lifted far above and beyond the power of earthly spell. " f*'1'J!^*"**^y ^*K*»*' »°>*<* *•»• enoiroling gloom, Lead Thou me on 1 » • » J**®,"^^^' *" ***'''^' *"<* ' *°^ f*r from home, Lead Thon roe on. Keep Thou mj feet I I do not Mk to see The distant soene ; one step enough for me." A sigh shook Silas Whipple's wasted frame, and so he died. CHAPTER Xn f| f i THE LAST OABD Mb. Brinsmadb and the Doctor were the first to leave the httle room where Silas Whipple had lived and worked and died, Mr. Brinsmade bent upon one of those errands which claimed him at all times. He took Shadrach with him. Virginia sat on, a vague fear haunting her, — a fear for her fathers safety. Where was Clarence? What had he seen '/Was the place watched ? These questions, at first intruding upon her sorrow, remained to torture her. Softly she stirred from the chair where she had sat before the piano, and opened the door of the outer office. A clock m a steeple near by was striking twelve. The Coionel did not raise his head. Only Stephen saw her ^°J,!?^ u ^" eyes foUowing her, and as she slipped out lifted hers to meet them for a brief instant through the opening of the door. Then it closed behind her. I^irst of all she knew that the light in the outer office was burning dimly, and the discovery gave her a shock. Who had turned it down ? Had Clarence ? Was he here ? Fearfully searching the room for him, her gaze was held by a figure in the recess of the window at the back of the room. A solid, bulky figure it was, and, though uncertainly outlined in the semi-darkness, she knew it. She took a step nearer, and a cry escaped her. The man was Eliphalet Hopper. He got down from tne sill with a motion at once sheepish and stealthy. Her breath caught, and instinctively she gave back toward the door, as if to open it again. « Hold on I " he said. " I've got something I want t« say to you. Miss Virginia." '471 l^ ii«i :.£^CE^SGI-' JJ 472 THE CRISIS sSnTni ' '^?>Pi repeating to herself. BuT how to It ? Suddenljr an idea flashed upSn her. "* '^ 1 ain t here to see the Judge." nn^^ Qf Pa)\and quite motionless. And she faltered " What do you mean ? " thJ|»^ t ;, -^l^^,!^ ^- was ^riLrarh?rno"w,Tn^ Clr'^ ^A^id-^Ju donT^ M^r! L:;"V ^'^^^ "- aorn^^eirJ^he^-^ By^a'sZim'J «i '^1,™ *^*^°?' »»«^ lids half closed. S him^TClft '^^- T^«^'«d her terror and looked "How I^re l?u «Z W ^"^ "^S ''^k intensified now. she ^id -l/rJ^^f^ ""f *^^ ^h»t ha« happened! " ahe said. If Colonel Carvel were here, he wouff- HU He^^Sin^Sff /* ^^"f"'® *"d *h« ^o^d, involuntarily He wiped his forehead, hot at the very thought ^ Thin T^'«^i°- ^ ^v ^^"^l^i'ned' in fainXearted irony. Then, remembering his advantage, he stepped close 4Xr. "fe*^ ill ••Twice Stephen shook him so that his head beat cpojj the table" f i . -••^;/.^-' i^. -j^ii^l '-^^i ' *ss THE LAST CAED 473 tWr^^^^ttar^^^^^ VHeis.here,inthat ^^^^^^^^ W hi. hung if I Still hi« K0I """^^ ' >^' if yo" choose ! " stre^ ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ ^^^--^ and his face closer. And her "tL^^rbutl^^r^^^^^ *" P5^'': ^« ««id hoarsely, op?n^"Xtts*«^^^^^^ f -^ ^ear the door She heard it close aJaTn anr. f /? **^^^ ^^^^ ««"nd- She knew the stepiTe knew fh«*'*'P ^''^^ *^« ^°«°»- leaped at the souSd of it inTn^er ""T' '"^ ^'' ^'^'' sleeve came between them ^nS^pi"- J"^ ^''™ ^^ ^ blue gered and fell acroi t h! k 1^ E^^Phalet Hopper sta^- Sis face. Above h,^ towL'etstenh'' 't?'-^' ^« ^^^^ ^« was the impression tW 0^11 v^^^^^ ^."'^^- ^^"'^'•^^ thought of^ the scene ever«ff. "^^"^ ?"°' *°^ «<> «he pointe of tempered steer^HtflT'^c ^.^^^ ^'^^^ like "ShaU I km Toa" «Pe« ' Be careful , met he.,. Even he eo9d ^n^r^^^ 'l™ ^ '"'» «ye» yearning, in thet?di?kM«denL^^T. *? 'fP*?'' tl-* there made him tremble SlT.K' j'*"^ y*' ''''»' •>« »" ^ "Plea^ .it dZ/^shert^^-'/W. tumbling too. touch me again while you arehe™ " 'He -he won't f 474 THE CRISIS Ehphalet Hopper raised himself from the desk, and one of the big books fell with a crash to the floor. Then they saw him shrink, his eyes fixed upon some one behind them. Before the Judge's door stood Colonel Carvel, in calm, familiar posture, his feet apart, and his head bent forward as he pulled at his goatee. "What is this man doing here, Virginia?" he asked. She did not answer him, nor did .speech seem to come easily to Mr. Hopper in that instant. Perhaps the sight of Colonel Carvel had brought before him too vividly the memory of that afternoon at Glencoe. All at once Virginia grasped the fiUness of the power m this man's hands. At a word from Lim her father would be shot as a spy —and Stephen Brice, perhaps, as a traitor. But if Colonel Carvel should learn that he had seized her, — here was the terrible danger of the situation. Well she knew what the Colonel would do. Would Stephen tell him ? She trusted in his coolness that he would not. Before a word of reply came from any of the three, a noise was heard on the stairway. Some one was coming up. There followed fo-ir seconds of suspense, and then Clarence came in. She saw that his face wore a worried, dejected look. It changed instantly when he glanced about him, and an oath broke from his lips as he singled out Eliphalet Hopper standing in sullen aggressiveness beside the table. "So you're the spy, are you?" he said in disgust. Then he turned his back and faced his uncle. "I saw him in Williams's entry as we drove up. He got awav from me.' r & j A thought seemed to strike him. He strode to the open window at the back of the office, and looked out. There was a roof under it. " The sneak got in here," he said. " He knew I was waiting for him in the street. So you're the spy, are you ? " Mr. Hopper passed a heavy hand across the cheek where Stephen had struck him. mE££SBSk^.jrGfm2 Ti r^^ =ri_r^aiB)'JsiSr~^:EZ9mst!S > "7^ THE LAST CARD 47ff the' Co W^'* *** "^^'" ^' "*'"*' ""''^ * ""'^"^"^ »^^«« »* fiercl/'^'' "^^^^ ^"^ ^""^ '^'''''^ ^^''^ • " *^«™anded Clarence, "I cal'late that A. knows," Eliphalet replied, jerking his head toward Colonel Carvel. " Where's his Confed erate uniform? What's to prevent mrcalW up the" provost's guard below?" he continued, Lh a smi?e^hat was hideous on his swelling face. ver* ™ rl^^ ^^^^^^^ who answered him, very quickly and "Nothing whatever, Mr. Hopper," he said. "This is the way out." He pointed at the door. Stephen, who was watching hiin, could not tell whether it were a grim smile that creased the corners of the Colonel's mouth as lie added, "You might prefer the window." Mr. Hopper did not move, but his eyes shifted to Vir- ?u°'^ lul^' S.*6P^e» deliberacely thrust himself between them that he might not see her. "What are you waiting for ? " said the Colonel, in the o.Z^'^r ^^^r ^^^"^^ ^^^® ^®° ^r ominous warning. btiU Mr. Hopper did not move. It was clear that he had not reckoned upon all of this; that he had waited in the window to deal with Virginia alone. But now the verv force of a desire which had gathered strength in manv years made him reckless. His voice took on the oilv quality la which he was wont to bargain. ..4^*'® }^ ^*^™ *^°"* *^^« business. Colonel," he said. We won t say anything about the past. But I ain't set on having you shot. There's a consideration that would stop me, and I cal'late you know what it is." Then the Colonel made a motion. But before he had taken a step Virginia had crossed the room swiftly, and flung herself upon him. ^ " Oh, don't. Pa .' " she cried. " Don't I Tell him that I will agree to it. Yes, I wiU. I can't have you — shot." Ihe last word came falteringly, faintly. "Let me go, —honey," whispered the Colonel, gently. His eyes did not leave EHphalet. He tried to disengage ) \ ' ^e^MKi&s.^ ?r,'::s9^mGm Tv3r 476 THE CRISIS himself, but her fingers were clasped about his neck in a passion of fear and love. And then, while she clung to him, her head was raised to listen. The sound of Stephen, Brice's voice held her as in a spell. His words were com- ing coldly, deliberately, and yet so sharply that each seemed to fall like a lash. "Mr. Hopper, if ever I hear of your repeating what you have seen or heard in this room, I will make this city and this state too hot for you to live in. I know you. I know how you hide in areas, how you talk sedition in private, how you have made money out of other men's misery. And, what is more, I can prove that you have had traitorous dealings with the Confederacy. General Sherman has been good enough to call himself a friend of mine, and if he prosecutes you for your dealings in Mem- phis, you will get a term in a Government prison. You ought to be hung. Colonel Carvel has shown you the door. Now go." And Mr. Hopper went. ^m,' CHAPTER XIII FROM THE LETTERS OF MAJOR STEPHEN BRICB Of the Staff of General Sherman on the March to the Sea, and on the March from Savannah Northward Headquarters Military Division of the Mississippi. GoLDSBORO, N.C. March 24, 1865. thRl""^ .^"^"""t^ '' T^^^ ^°^*^. ^*^°^°» Campaign is a thing of the past. I pause as I write these woJds — thev seem so incredible to me. We have marched the four hundred and twenty-five miles in fifty days, and the Gen eral himself has said that it is the longes^tVnd most i^^^ portent march ever made by an organized army in a civihzed country. I know ttat you will not be misled by t^e words « civilized country." Not until the history of this campaign is written will the public realize tS wide rivers and all but impassable swamps we have crossed with our baggage trains and artillery. The roads (by courtesy so called) were a sea of molasses ; and every mile of them has had to be corduroyed. For hZ'ii''T^1^r'! ^ ^^ ^°* ^"*« y«" ^'o^ Savannah vZ *^^yj*"«^^«/ «* "3 ^?5 storting at that season of the Lio™«i k T-^^'^.r '"''"^'^ "°* S") *e° °^iles, and I most solemnly believe that no one but " Uncle Billv " and an tTUf^^'''' V .t^^ ^^l^^PP^d ^y ^^^ ««»ld have gone ten miles. Nothing seems to stop him. You Save Sf. i*^J V^"'?^^ ^° ?® *«°« <^^ "^y letters ever since ^my Ge^eX'"" ''^ * ^^"^^ admiration for It seems very strange that this wonderful tactician can be the same man 1 met tliat day going to the Arsenal in the street car, and agam at Camp Jackson. I am sure that his- 477 I , 478 THE CRISIS tory will give him a high place among the commanders of the world. Certainly none was ever more tireless than he. He never fights a battle when it can be avoided, and his march into Columbia while threatening Charleston and Augusta was certainly a master stroke of strategy. I think his simplicity his most remarkable trait. You should see him as he rides through the army, an cx-ect figure, with 1 13 clothes all angular and awry, and an ex- pause of white sock showing above his low shoes. You can hear his name running from file to file ; and some- times the new regiments can't resist cheering. He gen- eralhr says to the Colonel : — © s " Stop that noise, sir. Don't like it." On our march to the sea, if the orders were ever given to turn northward, " the boys " would get very much de- pressed. One moonlight night I was walking my horse close to the General's over the. pine needles, when we overheard this Conversation between two soldiers: — ^ "Say, John," said one, "I guess Uncle Billy don't Know our corps is goin' north." " I wonder if he dcos," said John. " If I could only get a sight of them white socks, I'd know it was all right." The General rode past without a word, but I heard him telling the story to Mower the next day. I can find little if any change in his manner since I knew him first. He is brusque, brt kindly, and he has the same comradeship with oflBcers and men and even the negroes who flock to our army. But few dare to take advantage of it, and they never do so twice. I have been very near to him, and have tried not to worry him or ask many foolish questions. Sometimes on the march he will beckon me to close up to him, and we have a conversation something on this order : — " There's Kenesaw, Brice." "Yes, sir." Pointing with his arm. "Went beyond lines there with small party. Rebel battery on summit. Had to git. Fired on. Next day I M'-«*5i'V4JES5-"3»¥^'r-&>T'^«>K'i WC FROM THE LETTERS OF STEPHEN BRICE 479 thought Rebels would leave in the night. Got up before dayhght, fixed telescone on stand, ani waited. ^aVched v«?v .Jr'^T* J^S ^^^- S»^ ^""^ blue man creep up. Thought r^ """^"^ '^''''^^ ^ ^**- ^^^ »°»«- talk^ 4ZJ'''' ^''i'' H°^idJa of the vividness of his talk. When we make a halt for any time, the general officers and their staffs flock to headq^uarter; to liftenTo ?t1« ft?'-rT^-° ^V^l^'^^ ^^« ™^«' *^« perceptioS of It 18 like a lightning flash, - and he acte as qSickly. .fSl- *^«,^*y' I^ave just found the letter he wrote me, offering this staff position. Please keep it carefully,^ It IS something I shall value all my life. ^' Gaylesville, Alabama, October 26. 1864 Major Stephen A. Bbice: "«r-6o, ioo4. Dear Sir, — The world goes on, and wicked men sound asleeo !^™o5 work, -.80 If you expect to share in our calamity come down I offer you this fast chance for staff dutrand hope you have had enough in the field. I do not wish to hurj you, but you can't get aboard a ship at sea So ifyou Yours truly, W. T. Sherman, Major General. One night -at Cheraw, I think it was -he sent for me to telk to him. I found him lying on a bed of Spwiish moss they had made for him. He'^asled me a greatTany questions about St. Louis, and praised Mr. BrinsS especially his management of the Sanitary Commission. Cr.^fl^\ ^^^^i^' after a while, "you remember when Grant sent me to beat off Joe Johnston's army from Vicks- burg. You were wounded then, by the way, in that dash agTir JoTntn.^"^* ^'^'^^'^ ^^ «"^^^' ^« -- - ^-He's wUy, Sherman,' said he. 'He's a dangerous "'Grant,' said I, 'you give me men enough and time ' TZ-smag!imsssasMW%s-z- ?5r'T?'ae«' -:?-' arfPeiviHP ^wp5B«t t. 480 THE CRISIS de^l^'*"*** ^^^ °^*' ***® ground, and Vm not afraid of the Nothing could sum up the man better than that. And now what a trick of fate it is that he has Johnston before him again, in what we hope will prove the last gasp of the war I He hkes Johnston, by the way, and has the greatest respect for him. ® I wish you could have peeped into our camp once in a while. In the rar" bursts of sunshine on this march our premises have been decorated with gay red blankets, and sombre gray ones brought from the quartermasters, and white Hudson s Bay blankets (not so white now), all beine between forked sticks. It is wonderful how the pitching of a few tents, and the busy crackle of a few fires, and the sound of voices —sometimes merry, sometimes sad, depend- ing on the weather, will change the look of a lonely pine knoll. You ask me how we fare. I should be heartily ashamed if a word of complaint ever fell from my lips. But the men ! Whenever I wake up at night with my feet in a puddle between the blankets, I think of the men. Ihe corduroy roads which our horses stumble over through the mud, they make as well as march on. Our flies are carried in wagons, and our utensils and provisions. Ihey must often bear on their backs the little dog-tents, under which, put up by their own labor, they crawl to sleep, wrapped in a blanket they have carried all day, perhaps waist deep in water. The food they eat has been m their haversacks for many a weary mile, "and is cooked m the little skillet and pot which have also been a part of their burden. Then they have their musket and accoutre- ments, and the " forty rounds " at their backs. Patiently, cheerily tramping along, going they know not where, nor care much either, so it be not in retreat. Ready to make roads, throw up works, tear up railroads, or hew out and build wooden bridges ; or, best of all, to go for the John- nies under hot sun or heavy rain, through swamp and mire and quicksand. They marched ten miles to storm Fort McAllister. And how the cheers broke from them when the pop pop pop of the skirmish line began after we came FROM THE LETTERS OF STEPHEN BRICE 481 in sight of Savannah ! No man who has seAn hnf ««* shared their life may talk of persona? ha^ds^ip. ' "'* pffj!.- ""'^•"'^ *^ ^^'' Prettv little town yesterday so effecting a junction witf ScUeld, who got in wi?f 'the lit fl u?\*^!, ^^y ^^^«'«- I a°» writing at General xtsdav 'at fif r:'T ^5^'^ "f ' b^^ -' ' I'atr on luesaay at Benton ville, and we have come hither in smoke, as usual. But this time we thank Heaven thlt It IS not the smoke of burning homes, -only some resfn the « Johnnies" set on fire before they left ^ ^ I must close. General Sherman has just sent for me. On Board Despatch Boat " Martin." r» „ ^^ Sea, March 25, 1865. Dear Mother : A most curious thing has hannened But I may as well begin at the beginning. Then I stopped writing last evening at the^ summons of the General, I was about to tell you something of the battle of Bentonyille on Tuesday last. Mower charged throueh as bad a piece of wood and swamp as I ever saw and cS withm one hundred yards of JoCon hlmsdfT'who ^al at the bridge across Mill Creek. Of course we did Znl know this at the time, and learned it from prisoners As I have written you, I have been under fire very w! ''"'1 '°"''°? *° ^^^ «*»«f- When the battle opele/ wrthe'i'b^hTnd tV' ' ''^'^i V'"" '""^ Genera? who was tnen behind the reserves) I would see litHe f.^ Z^yi ir'^^f^^ ""' gWinformaUon" beyond the line of battle into the woods. I did nnt fl„j tk favorable to landscape views, and just as I was turnfne my horse back again I caught sight of a commotion Tom! distance to my right, ^^he Rebel skirmish C had faUen back just that instant, two of our skirm^ers were grappling with a third man, who was fighting desper^^^^^^^^ I struck me as singular that the fellow was not^r^ray' but had on some sort of dark clothes ^ ^' I could not reach them in the swamp on horseback and was m the act of dismounting wheS the man fell and then^they set out to carry lim to the r^ar^ stm 482 THE CBISIS farther to my right, beyond the •wamp. I shouted, and one of the skirmiahers came up. I aaked him what the matter was. " We've got a spy, sir,- he said excitedly. "A spy I Here?" ^ "Yes, Major. He was hid in the thicket yonder, lying flat on his face. He reckoned that our boys would run right over him and that he'd get into our lines that way. Tim Foley stumbled on him, and he put up as good a fight with his fists as any man I ever saw." Just then a regiment swept pasi us. That night I told the General, who sent over to the headquarters of the 17th Corps to inquire. The word came back that the man's name was Addison, and he claimed to be a Union sympathizer who owned a plantation near by. He de- clared that he had been conscripted by the Rebels, wounded, sent back home, and was now about to be pressed in again. He had taken this method of escaping to our lines. It was a common story enough, but General Mower added m his message that he thought the story fishy. This was because the man's appearance was very striking, and he seemed the type of Confederate fighter who would do and dare anything. He had a wound, which had been a bad one, evidently got from a piece of shell. But they had been able to find nothing on him. Sherman sent back word to keep the man until he could see him in person. It was about nine o'clock last night when I reached the house the General has taken. A prisoner's guard was resting outside, and the hall was full of officers. They said that the General was awaiting me, and pointed to the closed door of a room that had been the dininj? room. I opened it. Two candles were burning in pewter sticks on the bare mahogany table. There was the General sitting beside them, with his legs crossed, holding some crumpled tissue paper very near his eyes, and reading. He did not look up when I entered. I was aware of a man standing, tall and straight, just out of range of the jandles' rays. He wore the easy dress of a Southern planter, with the broad ■*im-^wmF-^- .■j^j\4]S'.M FROM THE LETTERS OF STEPHEN BRICE 483 felt hat. The head was flung baok so that there was just a patch of light on the chin, and the lids of the eyes in the shadow were half closed. My sensatiou<} are worth noting. For the moment I felt precisely as I had when I was hit by that bullet in Lauman's charge. I was aware of something very like pain, yet I comd not place the cause of it. But this is what since has made me feel queer: you doubtless re- member staying at Hollinffdean, when I was a boy, and hearing the story of Lord Northwell's daredevil Royalist ancestor, — the one with the lace collar over the dull-gold velvet, and the pointed chin, and the lazy scorn in the eyes. Those eyes are painted with drooping lids. The first time I saw Clarence Colfax I thought of that picture — and now I thought of the picture first. The General's voice startled me. " Major Brice, do you know this gentleman ? '* he asked. " Yes, General." "Who is he?" " His name is Colfax, sir — Colonel Colfax, I think." " Thought so," said the General. I have thought much of that scene since, as I am steam- ing northward over green seas and under cloudless skies, and it has seemed very unreal. I should almost say supernatural when I reflect how I have run across this man again and again, and always opposing him. I can recall just how he looked at the i^ave auction, which seems so long ago : very handsome, very boyish, and yet with the air of one to be deferred to. It was suffi- ciently remarkable that I should have found him in Vicks- burg. But now — to be brought face to face with him in this old dining room in Goldsboro' I And he a prisoner — a spy. He had not moved. I did not know how he would act, but I went up to him and held out my hand, and said : — " How do you do, Colonel Colfax ? " I am sure that my voice was not very stead v, for I can- not help liking him. And then his face ligLted up and liir^B-aiJBar-sapv-.'w ^atm rib^. ......iLf. .iw-*^ y-nprn^BT-wnWffTSH'Tt ' 484 THE CRISIS he gave me his hand. And he smiled a. me and amin at the General, as much at to say that it was all over. He has a wonderful smile. " We seem to run into each other, Major Brioe," said The pluck of the man was superb. I could see that the General, too, was moved, from the way he looked at him. And he speaks a little more abruptly at such times. " Guess that settles it, Colonel,^' he said. "I reckon it does. General," siiid Clarence, still smiling. The General turned from him to the table with a kind of jerk and clapped his hand on the tissue paper. " These speak for themselves, sir," he said. " It is very plain that they would have reached the prominent citizens for whom they were intended if you had succeeded in your enterprise. You were captured out of uniform. You know enough of war to appreciate the risk you ran. Any statement to make ? " " No, sir." " Call Captain Vaughan, Brice, and ask him to conduct the prisoner back." "May I speak to him. General?" I asked. The Gen- eral nodded. I asked him if I could write home for him — or do any- thing else. That seemed to touch him. Some day I shall tell you what he said. Then Vaughan took him out, and I heard the guard shoulder arms and tramp away in the night. The General and I were left alone with the mahogany table between us, and a family portrait of somebody looking down on us from the shadow on the wall. A moist spring air came in at the open windows, and the candles flickered. After a silence, I ventured to say : — "I hope he won't be shot. General." "Don't know, Brice," he answered. " Can't tell now. Hate to shoot him, but war is war. Magnificent class he belongs to — pity we should have to fight those fellows." He paused, and drummed on the table. " Brice," said he, " I m gomg to send you to General Grant at City Point PROM THE LETTERS OP STEPHEN BRICE 485 with despatches. I'm sorry Dunn went back yesterday, but it can't be helped. Can you start in half an hour ? '^ "Yes, sir." ♦♦ You'll have to ride to Kinston. The railroad won't be through until to-morrow. I'll telegraph there, and to General Easton at Morehead City. I^'ll have a boat for you. Tell Grant I expect to run up there in a day or two myself, when things are arranged here. You may wait until I come." " Yes, sir." I turned to go, but Clarence Colfax was on my mind. " General ? '^ "Eh I what?" " General, could you hold Colonel Colfax until I see you again ? " It was a bold thing to say, and I quaked. And he looked at me in his keen way, through and through. "You saved his life once before, didn't you?" " You allowed me to have him sent home from Vicks- burg, sir." He answered with one of his jokes — apropos of some- thing he said on the Court House steps at Vicksburg. Perhaps I shall tell it to you sometime. " Well, well," he said, " I'll see, I'll see. Thank God this war is pretty near over. I'll let you know, Brice, before I shoot him." I rode the thirty odd miles to Kinston in a little more than three hours. A locomotive was waiting for me, and I jumped into a cab with a friendly engineer. Soon we were roaring seaward through the vast pine forests. It was a lonely journey, and you were much in my mind. My greatest apprehension was that we might be derailed and the despatches captured ; for as fast as our army had advanced, the track of it had closed again, like the wake of a ship at sea. Guerillas were roving about, tear- ing up ties and destroying bridges. There was one five-minute interval of excitement when, far down the tunnel through the forest, we saw a light gleaming. The engineer said there was no house there" — I -T-- 488 THE CRISIS that it must be a fire. But we did not slacken our speed, and gradually the leaping flames grew larger and redder until we were upon them. Not one gaunt figure stood between them and us. Not one shot broke the stillness of the night. As dawn broke I beheld the flat, gray waters of the Sound stretching away to the eastward, and there was the boat at the desolate wharf beside the warehouse, her steam rising white in the chiU morning air. cSn CHAPTER XIV THE SAMB, CONTINUED Hbadquartebs Armies of thk UmTED States, CiTT PowT, ViBOiNiA, March 28, 1865. Deab Motheb : I arrived here safely the day before yesterday, and I hope that you will soon receive some of the letters I forwarded on that day. It is an extraordinary place, this City Point ; a military city sprung up like a mushroom in a winter. And my breath was quite taken away when I firet caught sight of it on the high table-land. The great bay in front of it, which the Appomattox helps to make, is a maze of rigging and smoke-pipes, like the harbor of a prosperous seaport. There are gunboats and supply boats, schooners and square-riggers and steamers, all huddled together, and our captain pointed out to me the Malvern flying Admiral Porter's flag. Barges were tied up at the long wharves, and these were piled high with wares and flanked by squat warehouses. Although it was Sunday, a locomotive was pufBng and panting along the foot of the ragged bank. High above, on the flat promontory between the two rivers, is the city of tents and wooden huts, the great trees in their fresh faint green towering above the low roofs. At the point of the Wuff a large flag drooped against its staff, and I did not have to be told ^t this was General Grant's headquarters. There was a fine steamboat lying at the wharf, and I had hardly stepped ashore before they told me she was President Lincoln's. I read the name on her — the Eiver Queen. Yes, tiie President is here, too, with his wife and family. There are many fellows here with whom I was brought 487 : II 488 THE CRISIS up in Boston^ I am living with Jack Hancock, whom you wm ^remember well. He is a captain now/and h^a a^alJ r'^K^^^'u °''.'^^^ "y «*<'^- I ^e^t straight to hnT ^™°*^ headquarters, -just a plain, rough slaJ house such as a contractor might build for a temoorarv Sl^ZL Vl '^' ^'^^ ^^?^^ *°d *^« Stars and S^iS distinguish It from many others of the same kind A m^lLf ?f "^ n' '*^''? ^^^"^°^ °^*«^^« «^ it' and they told me that the General had walked over to get his mail He IS just as unassuming and democratic as "my general." General Rankin took me into the office, a rude^Som, «^d nl^A ""T ** *^^ ^^^^ ^^^^ there. Presently the door opened, and a man came in with a slouch hat on and his r fet rrLt^d^. ^^ ^-^^^^ ^ ^^^^^- ^^ -- ^ nothil*^ ^^ general-in-chief. He stared at me, but said «t.ff^®T *t *¥^ i« Major Brice of General Sherman's lUnkin brought despatches from Goldsboro'," said He nodded, to, k oflf his hat and laid it on the table and reached out for the despatches. While reading theS he did not move, except to light another cigar. I am getting hardened to unrealities, — perhaps I should sav marvels, now. Our country abounds in them. It did not seem so strange that this sUent General with the baggy trousers was the man who had risen by leaps and bounds in four years to be general-in-chief of our wmies. His face looks older and more sunken than it did on that day in the street near the Arsenal, in St. Louis, when he was just a mihtary carpet-bagger out of a job. He 18 not changed otherwise. But how different the im- TtTa'Xrl^yY '"' "'° ^ ^"''^^'*^ ^°^ *^« ^^^^ -- He made a sufficient impression upon me then, as I told you at the time. That was because I overheard his well-merited rebuke to Hopper. But I little dreamed that I was looking on the man who was to come out of THE SAME, CONTINUED 489 the West and save this country from disunion. And how quietly and simply he has done it, without parade or pomp or vainglory. Of all those who, with every means at their disposal, have tried to conquer Lee, he is the only one who has in any manner succeeded. He has been able to hold him fettered while Sherman has swept the Confederacy. And these are the two men who were unknown when the war began. When the General had finished reading the despatches, he folded them quickly and put them in his pocket. "Sit down and tell me about this last campaign of yours. Major," he said. I talked with him for about half an hour. I should rather say talked to him. He is a marked contrast to Sherman in this respect. I believe that he only opened his lips to ask two questions. You may well believe that they were worth me asking, and they revealed an in- timate knowledge of our march from Savannah. I was interrupted many times by the arrival of different gen- erals, aides, etc. He sat there smoking, imperturbable. Sometimes he said " yes " or " no," but oftener he merely nodded his head. Once he astounded by a brief question an excitable young lieutenant, who floundered. The General seemed to know more than he about the matter he had in hand. When I left him, he ai?ked me where I was quartered, and said he hoped I would be comfortable. Jack Hancock was waiting for me, and we walked around the city, which even has barber shops. Every- where were signs of preparation, for the roads are getting dry, and the General preparing for a final campaign against Lee. Poor Lee I What a marvellous fight he has made with his material. I think that he will be reckoned among the greatest generals of our race. * Of course, I was very anxious to get a glimpse of the President, and so we went down to the wharf, where we heard that he had gone off for a horseback ride. They say that he rides nearly every day, over the corduroy roads and through the swamps, and wherever the boys see that fi"- •»B:TFaL".?*"f s»fT.2HiHi^B«a««* 490 THE CRISIS m\ tall hat they cheer. They know it as well as the lookout tower on the flats of Bermuda Hundred. He lingers at the campfires and swaps stories with the officers, and entertains the sick and wounded in the hospitals. Isn't it like him ? He hasn't changed, either. I believe that the great men don't change. Away with your Napoleons and your Marl- boroughs and your Stuarts. These are the days of sim- ple men who command by force of character, as well as knowledge. Thank God for the American I I believe that he will change the world, and strip it of its vainglory and hypocrisy. In the evening, as we were sitting around Hancock's fire, an officer came in. " Is Major Brice here ? " he asked. I miiiped up. " The President sends his compliments. Major, and wants to know if you would care to pay him a little visit." If I would care to pay him a little visit I That officer had to hurry to keep up with me as I walked to the wharf. He led me aboard the Biver Queen^ and stopped at the door of the after-cabin. Mr. Lincoln was sitting under the lamp, douched down in his chair, in the position I remembered so well. It was as if I had left him but yesterday. He was whittling, and he had made some little toy for his son Tad, who ran out as I entered. When he saw me, the President rose to L great height, a sombre, towering figure in black. He wears a scraggly beard now. But the sad smile, the kindly eyes in their dark caverns, the voice — all were just the same. I stopped when I looked upon the face. It was sad and lined when I had known it, but now all the agony endured by the millions, North and South, seemed written on it. "Don't you remember me, Major?" he asked. The wonder was that he had remembered me I I took his bi|f, bony hand, which reminded me of Judge Whipple's. Yes, It was just as if I had been with him always, and he were still the gaunt country lawyer. THE SAME, CONTINUED 491 "Yes, sir,'* I said, "indeed I do." He looked at me with that queer expression of mirth he sometimes has. " Are these Boston ways, Steve? '* he asked. " They're tenacious. I didn't think that any man could travel so close to Sherman and keep 'em." " They're unfortunate ways, sir," I said, " if they lead you to misjudge me." He laid his hand on my shoulder, just as he had done at Freeport. " I know you, Steve," he said. " I shuck an ear of corn before I buy it. I've kept tab on you a little the last five years, and when I heard Sherman had sent a Major Brice up here, I sent for you." What I said was boyish. " I tried very hard to get a glimpse of you to-day, Mr. Lincoln. I wanted to see you again." He was plainly pleased. " I'm glad to hear it, Steve," he said. " Then you haven't joined the ranks of the grumblers ? You haven't been one of those who would have liked to try running this country for a day or two, just to show me how to do it ? " " No, sir," I said, laughing. •* Good I " he cried, dapping his knee. " I didn't think you were that kind, Steve. Now sit down and tell me about this General of mine who wears seven-leagued boots. What was it — four hundred and twenty miles in fifty days? How many navigable rivers did he step across? He began to count on those long fingers of his. "The Edisto, the Broad, the Catawba, tiie Pedee, and — ? " " The Cape Fear," I said. "Is — is the Greneral a nice man?" asked Mr. Lincoln, his eyes twinkling. " Yes, sir, he is that," I answered heartily. " And not a man in the army wants anything when he is around. You should see that Army of the Mississippi, sir. They arrived in Goldsboro' in splendid condition." He got up and gathered his coat-tails undsr his arms, and began to walk up and down the cabin. I 408 THE CRISIS " What do the boys call the General ? " he asked. I told him " Uncle Billy." And, thinking the story of the white socks might amuse him, I told him that. It did amuse him. " Well, now," he said, " any man that has a nickname like that is all right. That's the best recommendation you can give the General — just say ♦ Uncle Billy.' " He put one lip over the other. " You've given ' Uncle Billy ' a good recommendation, Steve." he said. " Did you ever hear the story of Mr. Wallace's Irish gardener ? " "No, sir." ^ "Well, when Wallace was hiring his gardener he asked him whom he had been living with. "'Misther Dalton, sorr.' " ♦ Have you a recommendation, Terence ? ' " ♦ A ricommindat^on is it, sorr ? Sure I have nothing agin Misther Dalton, though he moightn't be knowing just the respict the likes of a first-class crarthener is entitled to."* He did not laugh. He seldom does, it seems, at his own stories. But I could not help laughing over the " ricommiudation " I had given the General. He knew that I was embarrassed, and said kindly : — "Now tell me something about * Uncle Billy's Bum- mers.' I hear that they have a most effectual way of tearing up railroads." I told him of Poe's contrivance of the hook and chain, and how the heaviest rails were easily overturned with it, and how the ties were piled and fired and the rails twisted out of shape. The President listened to every word with intense interest. "By JingI" he exclaimed, "we have got a general. Caesar burnt his bridges behind him, but Sherman burns his rath. Now tell me some more." He helped me along by asking questions. Then I began to tell him how the negroes had flocked into our camps, and how simply and plainly the General had talked to them, advising them against violence of any kind, and explaining to them that "Freedom " meant only the liberty to earn :,f^W*-^ THE SAME, CONTINUED 493 their own living in their own way, and not freedom from work. '•* We have got a general, sure enough," he cried. *' He talks to them plainlv, does he, so that they understand? I say to you, Brice, he went on earnestly, " the impor- tance of plain talk can't be overestimated. Any thought, however abstruse, can be put in speech that a boy or a negro can grasp. Any book, however deep, can be written in terms tnat everybodv can comprehend, if a man only tries hard enough. When I was a boy I used to hear the neighbors talking, and it bothered me so because I could not understand them that I vised to sit up half the night thinking things out for myself. I remember that I did not know what the word demonttrate meant. So I stopped my studies then and there and got a volume of Euclid. Before I got through I could demnutrate everything in it, and I have never l^en bothered with demonstrate since." I thought of those wonderfully limpid speeches of his : of the Freeport debates, and of the contrast between his style and Douglas's. And I understood the reason for it at last. I understood the supreme mind that had conceived the Freeport Question. And as I stood before him then, at the close of this fearful war, the words of the Gospel were in my mind. ** So the last shall be first, and the first, last ; for many be called, but few chosen." How I wished that ai "^hose who have maligned and tortured him could talk with him as I had talked with him. To know his great heart would disarm them of all antagonism. They would feel, as I feel, that his life is so much nobler than theirs, and his burdens so much heavier, that they would go away ashamed of their criticism. He said to me once : " Brice, I hope we are in sight of the end, now. I hope that we may get through without any more fighting. I don't want to see any more of our countrymen killed. And then," he said, as if talking to himself, " and then we must show them mercy — mercy." I thought it a good time to mention Colfax's case. He has been on my mind ever since. Mr. Lincoln listened W^r»t^- ^:- 494 THE CRISIS attentively. Once he sighed, and he was winding his long fingers around each other while I talked. **I saw the man captured, Mr. Lincoln," I oonoluded. " And if a technicality will help him out, he was actually within his own skirmish line at the time. The Rebel skirmishers had not fallen back on each side of him." " Brice," he said, with that sorrowful smile, " a tech- nicality might save Colfax, but it won't save me. Is this man a friend of yours ? " he asked. That wfU9 a poser. " I think he is, Mr. Lincoln. I should Uke to call him so. I admire him." And I went on to tell of what he had done at Vicksburg, leaving out, however, my instru- mentality in having him sent north. The President used almost Sherman's words. " By Jing I " he exclaimed. (That seems to be a favor- ite expression of his. ) " Those fellows were born to fight. If it wasn't for them, the South would have quit long ago." Then he looked at me in his funny way, and sai{ " See here, Steve, if this Colfax isn't exactly a friend of yours, there must be some reason why you are pleading for him in this way." " Well, sir," I said, at length, " I should like to get him oflf on account of his cousin. Miss Virginia Carvel." And I told him something about Miss Carvel, and how she had helped you with the Union sergeant that day in the hot hospital. And how she had nursed Judge Whipple." " She's a fine woman," he said. " Those women have helped those men to prolong this war about three years. And yet we must save them for the nation's i^e. They are to be the mothers of our patriots in days to come. Is she a friend of yours, too, Steve? " What was I to say ? " Not especially, sir," I answered finally. ** I have had to offend her rather often. But I know that she likes my mother." « Why ! " he cried, jumping up, " she's a daughter of Colonel Carvel. I always had an admiration for t^t man. THE SAME, CONTINITED 495 An ideal Southern gentleman of the old school, — courte- ous, as honorable and open as the day, and as brave as a lion. You've heard the story of how he threw a man named Babcock out of his store, who tried to bribe him ? " ** I heard you tell it in tiiat tavern, sir. And I have heard it since.'' It did me good to hear the Colonel praised. " I always liked that story," he said. " By the way, what's become of the Colonel ? " " He got away — South, sir," I answered. " He couldn't stand it. He hasn't been heard of since the summer of '68. They think he was killed in Texas. But they are not positive. They probably never will be," I added. He was silent awhile. " Too bad 1 " he said. " Too bad. What stuff those men are made of ! And so you want me to pardon this Colfax?" '* It would be presumptuous in me to go that far, sir," I replied. "But I hoped you might speak of it to the General when he comes. And I would be glad of the opportunity to testify." He took a few strides up and down the room . "Well, well," he said, "that's my vice — pardoninff, saying yes. It's always one more drink with me. It — ' he smiled — "it makes me sleep better. I've pardoned enough Rebels to populate New Orleans. Why, ' he con- tinued, with his whimsical look, "just before I left Washington, in comes one of your Missouri senators with a list of RelKjls who are shut up in McDowell's and Alton. I said: — " ' Senator, you're not going to ask me to turn loose all those at once? ' " He said just what you said when you were speaking of Missouri a while ago, that he was afraid of guerilla warfare, and that the war was nearly over. I signed 'em. And then what does he do but pull out another batch longer than the first! And those were worse than the first. " ' What ! you don't want me to turn these loose, too ? ' 496 THE CRISIS mercifuT'' ^""^ ^'' ^'^^''^- ^ ^^^ i* wiU pay to be ♦* » Then dumed if I don't,' I gaid, and I signed 'em," StBAMSB « RlV«K QUCKM." Ow THE Potomac, April 9, 1805. DF.AR Mother: I am glad that the telegrams I have been able to send reached you safely. I have^t had tfme to write, and this will be but a short letter. You wi 1 be surprised to see this heading. I am on the Presiden 's boat, in the President's party, fcund with him for Washington. And this is how it hap^ned : ?he verv afternoon of the day I wrote you, Gene^S Sherman S the salutes, and was on the wharf to meet him. That same afternoon he and General Grant and Admiral Porter went aboard the Biver Queen to see the President How I should have liked to be present at that interview 1 G«n«!!i r ^""l *'m®'' I*'®^*" ^"^ °"* «f *^« cabin together : S!n ft 1?'*''^ • '^®°*' *?^ ''"«^^°^' ^ ^^i ; General Sher- man talking vivaciously; and fincoln and the Admiral smiling and Ustening That was historic I I shall ^ver expect to see such a sight again in all my days. YoS can imagme my surprise when the President called me from amZl T '^?- '°i? *i ^"^^ ^^«^«^« ^i^ the other "l\tl\mt%?lin^^r' ^' "^^ ^^"^"^^'" ^- -^• " He never told me that," said the General. 1 guess he s got a great many important things shut up inside of him," said Mr. Linck, LnterLgly^" But he gave you a good recommendation, Sherman. He said that you wore white socks, and that the boys liked vou ^d^lled you 'Uncle Billy.' And I told ^im that ^as the best recommendation he could give anvbodv " wjJwIf ^"^^*«°?i- ^^^ the General only looked at me T^^h^r "^"" °° *^'""^^ everything, and thent THE SAME, CONTINUED 497 m "Brioe,** he said, "you'll have my reputaMon ruined. "Shennan," said Mr. Lincoln, "yow don't want the Maior riffht away, do you? Let him stay around here fo?^a wh§e%dth me. 1 think he'll find it interesting." He looked at the general-in-ohief, who was smiling just a little bit. "I've got a sneaking notion that Grants going to do something." Then they all laughed. "Certainly, Mr. Lincoln," said ray General, "you may have Brice. Be careful he doesn't talk you to death — he's said too much already." That is how I came to stay. ^ , ^ j I have no time now to tell you all that I have seen and heard. I have ridden with the President, and have gone with him on errands ol mercy and errands of cheer. 1 have been almost within sight of what we hope is the last struggle of this frightful war. I have listened to the ffuns of Five Forks, where Sheridan and Warren bore their own colors in the front of the charge. I was with Mr. Lincoln while the battle of Petersburg was raging, and there were tears in his eyes. Then came the retreat of Lee and the mstant pursuit of Grant, and— Richmond. The quiet General did not so much as turn aside to enter the smoking city he had be- sieged for so long. But I went there, with the President. And if I had one incident in my life to live over again, I should choose this. As we were going up the river, a dis- abled steamer lay across the passage in the obstruction of pUes the Confederates had built. Mr. Lincohi would not wait. There were but a few of us in his party, and we stepped into Admiral Porter's twelve-oared barge and were rowed to Richmond, the smoke of the fires still darkening the sky. We landed within a block of Libby With the little guard of ten sailors he marched the mile and a half to General Weitzel's headquarters, — the presi- dential mansion of the Confederacy. You can imagine our anxiety. I shall remember him always as T saw him that day, a tall, black figure of sorrow, with the high silk 2k wr ■ --TmerataXM. THE CRISIS hat we h»Te learned to love. Unafraid, his heart rent with pity, he walked unharmed amid such t ilt as I have rarely aeen. The windows filled, the » ahead of us became choked, as the word that the T :na¥nt was comma ran on Uke quick-fire. The mob shout^jd and puuhed. Drunken men reeled against him. The negroes wept aloud and cried hoeahnas. They pressed upon him that they miprht touch the hem of his coat, and one threw himself on his knees and kissed the President's feet. Still he walked on unharmed, past the ashes and the ruins. Not as a conqueror was he come, to march in tri- umph. Not to destroy, but to heal. Though there were many times when we had to fight for a path through the crowds, he did not seem to feel the danger. Was it because he knew that his hour was not vet come? •' To-day, on the boat, as we were steaming between the green shores of the Potomac, I overheard him reading to Mr. Sumner: — ® <*DanoMi is in his ffraT8$ After life's fitful fever he sleeps well ; ^reason has done his worst ; nor steel, nor poison. Mahoe domestic, foreign levy, nothing. Can touch hun further." WiLLABD's HOTKL, WASHINGTON, April 10, 1865. I have looked up the passage, and have written it in above. It haunts me. CHAPTE-. XV THE MAN OF SORROWS The train waa late — very late. It was Virginia who first caug^ht sight ot iLo new dome of the Capitol through the slanting rain, but shs merely pressed her lips together and said nothing. In the dingy brick station of the Hajtimore and Ohio Railroad more than one person paused to look after them, and a kind-hearted lady who had been m the car kissed the girl good-by. " You think that you can find your uncle's house, my dear? she asked, glancing at Virginia with concern. Through all of that long journey she had worn a look apwt. "Do you think you can find your uncle's house ? " Virginia started. And then she smiled as she looked at the honest, alert, and squarely built gentleman beside her. "Captain Brent can, Mrs. Ware," she said. "He can find anything." Whereupon the kind lady gave the Captain her hand. "You look as if you could, Captain," said she. "Re- member, if General Carvel is out of town, you promised to bring her to me." " Yes, ma'am," said Captain Lige, "and so I »halV' "^ Kerndge, kerridge I Right dis-a-way I No sah, dat am t de kerridge vou wants. Dat's it, lady, you'se lookin' at it. Kerridge, kerridge, kerridge I " Virginia tried bravely to smile, but she was very near to tears as she stood on the uneven pavement and looked at the scrawnv horses standing patiently in the steady downpour. All sorts of people were coming and going, army officers and navy officers and citizens of states and terntories, driving up and driving away. 500 THE CRISIS And this was Washington I She was thinking then of the multitude who came here with aching hearts, — with heavier hearts than was hprs that day. How many of the throng hurrying by would not flee, if they could, back to the peaceful homes they had left? But perhaps those homes were gone now. Destroyed, like her own, by the war. Women with chil- dren at their breasts, and mothers bowed with sorrow, had sought this city in their agony. Young men and old had come hither, striving to keep back the thoughts of dear ones left behind, whom they might never see again. And by the thousands and tens of thousands they had passed from here to the places of blood beyond. " Kerridge, sah I Kerridge I " "Do you know where General Daniel Carvel lives?'* " Yes, sah, reckon I does. I Street, sah. Jump right in, sah." Virginia sank back on the stuffy cushions of the rattle- trap, and then ,t upright again and stared out of the window at the dismal scene. They were splashing through a sea of mud. Ever since they had left St. Louis, Cap- tain Lige had done his best to cheer her, and he did not intend to desist now. " This beats all," he cried. " So this is Washington I Why, it don't compare to St. Louis, except we haven't got the White House and the Capitol. Jinny, it would take a scow to get across the street, and we don't have ramshackly stores and nigger cabins bang up against fine houses like that. This is ragged. That's what it is, ragged. We don't have any dirty pickaninnies dodging among the horses in our residence streets. I decLare, Jinny, if those aren't pigs ! " Virginia laughed. She could not help it. "Poor LigeT" she said. "I hope Uncle Daniel has some breakfast for you. You've haa a good deal to put up with on this trip." "Lordv, Jinny, said the Captain, "I'd put up with a good deal more than this for the sake of going any- where with you." THE MAN OF SORROWS 501 " Even to such a doleful place as this ? " she sighed. " This is all right, if the sun'll only come out and dry things up and let us see the green on those trees," he said. " Lordv, how I do love to see the spring green in the sun- light ! ' She put out her hand over his. »'Lige," she said, "you know you*re just trying to keep up my spirits. You've been doing that ever since we left home." " No such thing," he replied with vehemence. " There's nothing for you to be cast down about." " Oh, but there is I " she cried. " Suppose I can't make your Black Republican President pardon Clarence ! " "Pooh!" said the Captain, squeezing her hand and trying to appear unconcerned. "Your Uncle Daniel knows Mr. Lincoln. He'll have that arranged." Just then the rattletrap pulled up at the sidewalk, the wheels of the near side in four inches of mud, and the Captain leaped out and spread the umbrella. They were in front of a rather imposing house of brick, flanked on one side by a house just like it, and on the other by a series of dreary vacant lots where the rain had collected in pools. They climbed the steps and rang the bell. In due time the door was opened by a smiling yellow butler in black. " Does General Carvel live here ? " " Yas, miss. But he ain't to home now. Done crone to New York." ^ " Oh," faltered Virginia. " Didn't he get my telegram day before yesterday? I sent it to the War Department." "He's done gone since Saturday, miss." And then, evidently impressed by tlie young lady's looks, he added hospitably, " Kin I do anything fo' you, miss ? " " I'm his niece. Miss Virginia Carvel, and this is Captain Brent." The yellow butler's face lighted up. " Come right in. Miss Jinny. Done heerd de General speak of you often — • yas'm. De General'U be to home dis a'ternoon, suah. 'Twill do hini good ter see you. Miss 502 THE CBISIS J^uay. He's been mighty lonesome. Walk right in, Cap'n, and make yo'selves at home. Lizbeth — Lizbeth I " A yellow maid came running down the stairs. " Heab's Miss Jinny." " Lan' of goodness I " cried Lizbeth. " I knows Miss Jinny. Done seed her at Calve't House. How it vou. Miss Jinny?" ^ ' "Very well, Lizbeth," said Virginia, listlessly sitting down on the hall sofa. " Can you give us some breakfast ? ^' »'Yas'm," said Lizbeth, "jes' reckon we kin." She ushered them into a walnut dining room, big and high and sombre, with plush-bottomed chairs placed about — walnut also ; for that was the fashion in those days. But the Captain had no sooner seated himself than he shot up again and started out. " Where are you going, Lige ? " " To pay off the carriage driver," he said. "Let him wait," said Virginia. "I'm goinir to the White House in a Httle while.^' " What — what for ? " he gasped. "To see ^our Black Republican President," she replied, with alarming calmness. "Nov, Jinny," he cried, in excited appeal, "don't go doin' any such fool trick as that. Your tfncle Dan'l will be here this afternoon, ffe knows the President. And then the thing'll be fixed all right, and no mittake.** Her reply was in the same tone — almost a monotone which she had used for three days. It made the Captain very uneasy, for he knew when she spoke in that way that her will was in it. " And to lose that time," she answered, " may be to have him shot." "But you can't get to the President without creden- tials," he objected. " What," she flashed, "hasn't any one a right to see the President ? You mean to say that he will not see a woman in trouble ? Then all these pretty stories I hear of him are false. They are made up by the Yankees." Poor Captain Lige ! He had some notion of the multi- .'."tf. MMffiJWt-f THE MAN OF SORROWS 603 tude of calls upon Mr. Lincoln, especially at that time. But he could not, he dared not, remind her of the princi- pal reason for this, — Lee's surrender and the appry. -jhrng end of the war. And then the Captain had never seen Mr. Lincoln. In the distant valley of the Mississippi he had only heard of the President very conflicting things. He had heard him criticised and reviled and praised, just as is every man who goes to the White House, be he saint or sinner. And, during an administration, no man at a distance may come at a President's true character and worth. The Captain had seen Lincoln caricatured vilely. And again he had read and heard the pleasant anecdotes of which Virginia had spoken, until he did not know what to believe. As for Virginia, he knew her partisanship to, and un- dying love for, the South ; he knew the class prejudice which was bound to assert itself, and he had seen enough in the girl's demeanor to fear that she was going to demand -rather than implore. She did not come of a race that was wont to bend the knee. " Well, well," he said despairingly, " yoa must eat some breakfast first, Jinny." She waited with an ominous calmness until it was brought in, and then she took a part of a roll and some coffee. " This won't do," exclaimed the Captain. " Why, why, that won't get you halfway to Mr. LilTicoln." She shook her head, hali smiling. " You must eat enough, Lige," she said. He was finished in an incrediblj'^ tL3r<; time, and amid the protestations of Lizbeth and the yeilow butler they got into the carriage again, and splashed and rattled toward the White House. Once Virginia glanced out, and catching sight of the bedraggled Sags on the houses in honor of Lee's surrender, a look of pain crossed her face. The Captain could not represd a note of warning. '* Jinny," said he, ♦» I have an idea that you'll find the President a good deal of a man. Now if you're allowed to see him, don't get him mad^ Jinny, whatever you do." 504 THE CRISIS \rU'. Virginia stared straight ahead. " If he is something of a man, Lige, he will not lose his temper with a woman." Captain Lige subsided. And just then they came In sight of the house of the Presidents, with ita beautiful portico and its broad wings. And they turned in under the dripping trees of the grounds. A carriage with a black coachman and footman was ahead of them, and they saw two stately gentlemen descend from it and pass the guard at the door. Then their turn came. The Captain helped her out in his best manner, and gave some money to the driver. "I reckon he needn't wait for us this time. Jinny," said he. She shook her head and went in, he following, and they were directed to the anteroom of the President's office on the second floor. There were many people in the corri- dors, and one or two young officers in blue who stared at her. She passed them with her head high. But her spirits sank when they came to the anteroom. It \. as full of all sorts of people. Politicians, both pros- perous and seedy, full faced and keen faced, seeking office; women, officers, and a one-armed soldier sitting in the corner. He was among the men who offered Virginia their seats, and the only one whom she thanked. But she walked directly to the doorkeeper at the end of the room. Captain Lige was beside her. " Can we see the President ? " he asked. " Have you got an appointment ? " said the old man. "No." "Then you'll have to wait your turn, sir," he said, shaking his head and looking at Virginia. And he added: " It's slow work waiting your turn, there's so many gov- ernors and generals and senators, although the session's over. It's a busy time, miss." Virginia went very close to him. " Oh, can't you do something ? " she said. And added, with an inspiration, " I mtut see him. It's a matter of life and death." She saw instantly, with a woman's instinct, that her • I', asf*' ■ Tii^ - THE MAN OF SORROWS 506 words 1 sd had their effect. The old man glanced at her again, as if demurring. " You're sure, miss, it's life and death ? " he said. ^ " Oh, why should I say so if it were not ? " she cried. " The orders are very strict," he said. " But the Presi- dent told me to give precedence to cases when a life is in question. Just you wait a minute, miss, until Governor Doddridge comes out, and I'll see what I can do for you. Give me your name, please, miss." She remained standing where she was. In a little while the heavy door opened, and a portly, rubicund man came out with a smile on his face. He broke into a laugh, when halfway across the room, as if the memory of what he had heard were too much for his gravity. The door- keeper slipped into the room, and there was a silent, anxious interval. Then he came out again. "The President will see you, miss." Captain Lige started forward with her, but she restrained him. " Wait for me here, Lige," she said. She swept in alone, and the door closed softly after her. The room was a big one, and there were maps on the table, with pins sticking in them. She saw that much, and then — ! Could this fantastically tall, stooping figure before her be that of the President of the United States ? She stopped, as from the shock he gave her. The lean, yellow face with the mask-like lines a& up and down, the unkempt, tousled hair, the beard — why, he was a hundred times more ridicu- lous than his caricatures. He might have stood for rnany of the poor white trash farmers she had seen in Kentucky — save for the long black coat. "Is — is this Mr. Lincoln ? " she askcl, her breath taken away. He bowed and smiled down at her. Somehow that smile changed his face a little. " I guess I'll have to own up," he answered. " My name is Virginia Carvel," she said. " I have come all the way from St. Louis to see you." ;-:•! ■ < m .•T.i. -.iiif t-'.-n^wsfTi^Bnr*. sm THE CRISIS *' Miss Carvel," said the President, looking at her in- tently, " I have rarely been so flattered in my life. I — I hope I have not disappointed you." Virginia was justly angry. " Oh, you haven't, * she cried, her eyes flashing, "because I am what you would call a Rebel." The mirth in the dark comers of his eyes disturbed hh more and more. And then she saw that the President was laughing. "And have you a better name for it. Miss Carvel?" he asked. " Because I am searching for a better name — just now." She was silent — sternly silent. And she tapped her foot on the carpet. What manner of man was this ? "Won't you sit down?" said the President, kindly. "You must be tired after your journey." And he put forth a chair. "No, thank you," said Virginia; "I think that I can say what I have come to say better standing." "Well," said Mr. Lincoln, "that's not strange. I'm that way, too. The words seem to come out better. That reminds me of a story they tell about General Buck Tan- ner. Ever heard of Buck, Miss Carvel? No? Well, Buck was a character. He got his title in the Mormon war. One day the boys asked him over to the square to make a speech. The General was a little uneasy. "* I'm all rirfit when I get standing up, Liza,' he said to his wife. * Then the words come right along. Only trouble is they come too cussed fast. How'm I going to stop 'em when I want to ? ' "♦Well, I du declare. Buck,' said she, ♦! gave you credit for some sense. All you've got to do is to set down. That'll end it, I reckon.' " So the General went over to the square and talked for about an hour and a half, and then a Chicago man shouted to him to dry up. The General looked pained. "* Boys,' said he, *it's jest every bit as bad for me as it is for you. You'll have to hand up a chair, boys, because I'm never foiniir to get shet of this goldarned speech any other way |roing «Pv THE MAN OP SORBOWS «)7 Mr. Lincoln had told this so comically that Viririnia was forced to Wh, and she immediately hated heSdf LTZ"'^'' °°"L*^ j°^" ** ""°*» » *i°»« certainlyiouinot feel the cares and responsibilities of his office. He should have been a comedian. And yet this was the Prudent the Confederacy. And she was come to ask him a favor Virginia swallowed her pride. ^kT,,^'* ^^^^^^l**'" «hf began, « I have come to talk to you about my cousin. Colonel Clarence Colfax." ^ "1 shaJl be happy to talk to you about your cousin Colonel Colfax, isfiss Carvel. Is L your thiJS^r Wh " He is my first cousin," she retorted. «WWH%^'J/^ city?" asked Mr. Lincoln, innocently, why didn't he come with you ?" ^-wjr- Coif?,' !;r?? V°" ^^^ ^ " A^? ""^- " He is Clarence SlSSeSfte'siC^ °°" ^ "^^'^"^^ ^" *^« '^-r^^^ *^« "Which army ?" asked Mr. Lincoln. Virginia tossed her head in exasperation, in^f S^l"^ Joseph Johnston's army," she replied, try. ing to be patient. " But now." she gilptd, " now he Ss been a^rested as a s^y by General Sh^Xu'L army.'' " That s too bad,'^ answered Mr. Lincoln. «^?*lr*°^ *hey are going to ihoot him*." « That s worse," said Mr. Lincoln, gravely. "But I expect he deserves it." ** ^ " 01^ no, he doesn't," she cried. « You don't know how ^T% V- ? I "' ^?f^ *^«^» *he Mississippi onTlo^ «a„H. J''^^^?' ^^ *^'°"?^* ^*°^ thousand and thof: sands of percussion caps. &e rode across the river when ^o^h'^rtt; tidTeeTsii^^^^^^ ^' •"* ^« *^ ^« ^^ mfhe Sit^ th^^A."^^*''' * ^-^ «^^-" "Miss Carvel," said he, "that argument reminds me of a storjr about a man I used to know in the old days 2 Illinois. His name was McNeil, and he was a lawyer. 608 THE CRISIS One day he was defending a prisoner for assault and battery before Judee Drake. "'Judge,' says McNeil, »you oughtn't to lock this man up. It was a fair fight, and he's the best man in the state in a fair fight. And, what's more, he's never been licked in a fair fight in his life.' " * And if your honor does lock me up,' the prisoner put in, *I'll give your honor a thunderin' big lickin' when I get out. • " The Judge took off his coat. "'Gantlemen,' said he, 'it's a powerful queer argument, but tl*e Court will admit it on its merits. The prisoner will please to step out on the grass.' " This time Virginia contrived merely to smile. She was striving against something, she knew not what. Her breath was coming deeply, and she was dangerously near to tears. Why? She could not tell. She had come into this man's presence despising herself for having to ask him a favor. The sight of his face she had ridiculed. Now she could not look into it without an odd sensation. What was in it ? Sorrow ? Yes, that was nearest ii. What had the man done ? Told her a few funny stories —given quizzical answers to some of her questions. Quiz- zical, yes ; but she could not be sure then there was not wisdom in them, and that humiliated her. She had never conceived of such a man. And, be it added gratuitously, Virginia deemed herself sometUi^^ of an adept in dealing with men. "And now," said Mr. Lincoln, "to continue for the defence, I believe that Colonel Colfax first distinguished himself at the time of Camp Jackson, when of all the prisoners he refused to accept a parole." Startled, she looked up at him swiftly, and then down again. "Yes," she answered, "yes. But oh, Mr. Lin- coln, please don't hold that against him." If she could only have seen his face then. But her lashes were dropped. "My dear young lady," replied the President, "I honor him for it. I was merely elaborating the argument which H THE MAN OP SORROWS yoa have begun. On the other hand, it is a pity that he should have taken oflf that uniform which he adorned, and attempted to enter General Sherman's lines as a civiUan. — as a spy." * He had spoken tiiese last words very gently, but she was too excited to heed his gentieness. She drew herself un, a gleam in her eyes like the crest of a blue wave in a storm. A spy I she cried ; "it takes more courage to be a my than anything else in war. Then he will be shot. You are not content in the North with what you have gamed. You are not content with depriving us of our rijghts, and our fortunes, with forcing us back to an alle- priance we despise. You are not content with humiliat- mg our generals and putting innocent men in prisons. But now I suppose you wiU shoot us all. And aU this mercy that I have heard about means nothing —nothing— " Why did she falter and stop ? "Miss Carvel," said the President, " I am afraid from what 1 have heard just now, that it means nothing." Oh, the sadness of that voice, — the ineffable sadness, — the sadness and the woe of a great nation I And the sorrow m those eyes, the sorrow of a heavy cross borne meekly, — how heavy none will ever know. The pain of a crown of thorns worn for a world that did not understand. No wonder Virginia faltered and was silent. She looked at Abraham Lincoln standing there, bent and sorrowful, and It was as if a Hght had fallen upon him. But strang- est of all in that strange moment was that she felt his strength. It was the same strength she had felt in Stephen Bnce. This was the thought that came to her. Slowly she walked to the window and looked out across the green grounds where the wind was shaking the wet trees, past the unfinished monument to the Father of her country, and across the broad Potomac to Alexandria in the hazy distance. The rain beat upon the panes, and tiien she knew that she was crying softly to herself. She had met a force that she could not conquer, she had looked upon a sorrow that she could not fathom, albeit she had known sorrow. 610 THE CRISIS Presently she felt him near. She turned and looked through her tears at his face that was all compassion, .'.nd now she was unashamed. He had placed a chair behind her. ** Sit down, Virginia," he said. Eyen the name fell from him naturally. She obeyed him then like a child. He remained standinff. ** Tell me about your cousin,*' he said ; ** are you going to marry him ? " She hung an instant on her answer. Would that save Clarence ? But in that moment she could not have spoken anything but the truth o save her soul. ** No, Mr. Lincoln," she said ; ** I was — but I did not love him. I — I think that was one reason why he was so reckless." Mr. Lincoln smiled. **The officer who happened to see Colonel Colfax cap- tured is now in Washington. When vour name was given to me, I sent for him. Perhaps he is m the anteroom now. I should like to tell you, first of all, that this officer de- fended your cousin and asked me to pardon him." ** He defended him I He asked you to pardon him I Who is he ? " she exclaimed. Again Mr. Lincoln smiled. He sti^ode to the bell-cord, and spoke a few words to the usher who answered his ring. The usher went out. Then the door opened, and a young officer, spare, erect, came q^uickly into tne room, and bowed respectfully to the President. But Mr. Lincoln's eves were not on him. They were on the girl. He saw her head lifted, timidly. He saw her lips part and the color come flooding into her face. But she cUd not rise. The President sighed. But the light in her eyes w ci reflected in his own. It has been truly said that Abraham Lincoln knew the human heart. The officer still stood facing the President, the girl staring at his profile. The door closed behind him. " Maior Brice," said Mr. Lincoln, " when you asked me to pardon Colonel Colfax, I believe that you told me THE MAN OF SORROWS Ml he WM inside his own skinnish lines when he was cap- tured. "^ •* Yes, sir, he was." Suddenly Stephen turned, as if impelled by the Presi- dent s wze, and so his eyes met VirginU's. He fonrot time and place, — for the while even this man whom he rever^ above all men. He saw her hand tighten on the arm of her chair. He took a step toward her, and stopped. Mr. Lmcoln was speaking again. " ^.P^* !° » P^«»» a lawver's plea, wholly unworthy of him. Miss Virpfinia. He asked me to let your cousin o£f on a technicality. Whac do you think of that ? " "Oh I "said VirginU. Just the exclamation escaped her — nothing more. The crimson that had betrayed her deepened on her cheeks. Slowly the eyes she had yielded to Stephen came back again and restei on the President. And now her wonder was that an ugly man could be so beautiful. "I wish it understood, Mr. Lawyer," the Pr^ident con- tinued, "that I am not letting off Colonel Colfax on a technicality. I am sparing his life," he said slowly, "because the time for which we have been waiting and longmg for four years is now at hand — the time to be merciful. Let us all thank God for it." Virrinia had risen now. She crossed the room, her head lifted, her heart lifted, to where this man of sorrows stood smiling down at her. " Mr. Lincoln," she faltered, « I did not know you when I came here. I should have known you, for I had heard • j~" 1. ^^rd Major Brice praise you. Oh," she cried, "how I wish that every man and woman and child m the South might come here and see you as I have seen you to-day. I think — I think that some of their bitter- ness might be taken away." Abraham Lincoln laid his hands upon the girl. And Stephen, watching, knew that he was looking upon a benediction. *^ "Virginia," said Mr. Lincohi, "I have not suffered by the South, I have suffered unth the South. Your sorrow wmB^^m THE CRI9IB ^ been my -orrow - ^eToerA^ w^ ^^ Ce What you have joet, f have J^ gained." , gained?' he added whUmely, J nav V^^^ ^^^^^ ^ere ^He led her gently to ^« ^^^^^ of blue tky shone flving before tKe ^^..^tl^^S^^rm he pointed acroee above the Potomac. With B'" »°^. ^ . ^ ^j^^ie a shaft tSe river to the «>^i^«"*^^^,"!^ of ^Mexandria. ^ of sunlight feU on the white ^^-^ ^ A^ flew "In the first days of tiu- v ^, u . . ^. g^^n Uved there in sight of the phioe . bo.v .uc ..^V ,^^g^ .j^, anddied.^'l^sedtowal. t -t n..,, ^^ ^^etimes,- Washington had not n; ^' ^_^ » .. i(. to be put in Bometim^es I wondered ua-:i;'=^^; ^ ^^ch. "That Sony just there." ,^''« ^ \%^^o\)d b.ve known that ^Viongr he contwueu. '^'^ ^j j^ ^„ my this was our V^^}'^''''' Z ^ U^ J the great nation punishment. Before ^« ^•«^:' ^' nn^o be ^ped out in ^e has destined ^^^}>^^^'' . iririnm. You love it stiU. blood. You loved that flag, Wr^^mm. .^^ ^^ 1 say in aU ^^^^l^lS^k ^d South, may look day come when this Natioo, ^^* ^ ^pon thousands SlJk upon it with reverence^ Tbousa^ .^ ^^ of brave Amencajis ^^T* ^^^i^e day oome agam when ^^;1flrethtkag^^"- there nL-Was^^ tag -better still." ^^^ ^pon Virginia'. When he got up a^n h? ^^^^ ^ai ai it. Ill to; Jt'^f tl iLe^. ^STve iread, .poken to h. about the matter." . beyond them hot '11 have to him jm both. L his face ber night THE JIAN OF SORROWS M3 Harlan was here making a speech to a crowd out of the window and my boy Tad was sitting behind him. "»What shall we do with the Rebels?' said HarUn to Che crowd. ** ' Hang 'em I ' cried the people. *♦ * No,' says Tad, ♦ hang on to 'em.' "And the boy was right. That is what we intend to do,--haM on to 'em. And, Steve," said Mr. Lincoln, putting bis hand again on Virginia's shoulder, "if you have th J sense I think you have, you'll h.'ng on, too." I'or an instant he stood smiling at lUw blushes, — he to whom the power was given to set apart his cares and his troubles and partake of the happinesH of others. For of such was his happiness. Then the President drew out his watch. " Bless me I " he said, " I am ten minutes behind my appointment at the Department. Miss Virginia, you may care t • thank the Major for the little service he has done you. You can do so undisturbed here. Make yourselves at home." As he opened the door he paused and looked back at them. 1 he smile passed from his face, and an ineffable expression of longing — longing and tenderness — came upon It. Then he was gone. For a space, whilo his spell was upon them, they did not stir. Then Stephen sought her eyes that had been so long denied him. They were not denied him now. It was Virgmia who first found her voice, and she called mm by his name. "Oh, Stephen," she said, "how sad he looked ! " He waa close to her, at her side. And he answered her m the earnest tone which she knew so well. "Virginia, if I could have had what I most wished for m the world, I should have asked that you should know Abraham Lincoln." Then she dropped her eyes, and her breath came quickly. "I — I might have known," she answered, "I mitrht have knowu what he was. I had heard you talk of him. « i< Xw^'" 514 THE CEISrS I had seen him in you, and I did not know. Do you re- member that day when we were in the summer-house together at Olencoe, long ago ? When you had come back from seeing him ? " " As yesterday," he said. " You were changed then," she said bravely. " I saw it. Now I understand. It was because you had seen Mr. Lincoln." '♦ When I saw him," said Stephen, reverently, " I knew how little and narrow I was." Then, overcome by the incense of her presence, he drew her to him until her heart beat against his own. She did not resist, but lifted her face to him, and he kissed her. " You love me, Virginia I " he cried. " Yes, Stephen," she answered, low, more wonderful in her surrender than ever before. " Yes ~ dear." Then she hid her face against his blue coat. " I — I cannot help it. Oh, Stephen, how I have struggled against it I How I have tried to hate you, and couldn't. No, I couldn't. I tried to insult you, I did insult you. And when I saw how splendidly you bore it, I used to cry." He kissed her brown hair. " I loved you through it all," he said. " Virginia I " " Yes, dearest." " Virginia, did you dream of me ? " She raised her head quickly, and awe was in her eyes. " How did you know ? " ** Because I dreamed of you," he answered. "And those dreams used to linger with me half the day as I went about my work. I used to thmk of them as I sat in the saddle on the march." " I, too, treasured them," she said. " And I hated my- self for doing it." "Virginia, will you marry me ? " "Yes." "To-morrow?" " Yes, dear, to-morrow." Faintly, " I — I have no one but you — now." THK MAN OF SORROWS si-, .t,^""" •" '^'' ''" to W». and .he gloried in hi, guIrftou'iW? *" '^"^ y-. "««." he ..id, ..„d Ad?w. '**' '""° '■'"• «"'*^y' ">-» '"nied toward 1 J.^ Stephen," .he cried, " the sun hu come out «t glirte;^™'tenri^tnd\K"'f ""'■' "x' "">•» the e«th entered into tKh" '°^'"" »«" «"«» »' CHAPTER XVI ANNAPOLIS It was Virginia's wish, and was therefore sacred. As for Stephen, he little cared whither they went. And so they found themselves on that bright afternoon in mid- April under the great trees that arch the unpaved streets Of old Annapolis. They stopped by direction at a gate, and behind it was a green cluster of lilac bushes, which lined the walk to the big plum-colored house which Lionel Carvel had built. Virginia remembered that down this walk on a certain dav in June, a hundred years agone, Richard Carvel had led Dorothy Manners. They climbed the steps, tottering now with age and disuse, and Virginia playfully raised the big brass knocker, brown now, that Scipio had been wont to polish until it shone. Stephen took from his pocket the clumsy key that General Carvel had given him, and turned it in the rustv lock. The door swung open, and Virginia stood in the hall of her ancestors. It was musty and damp this day as the day when Richard had come back from England and found it vacant and his grandfather dead. But there, at the parting of the stairs, was the triple-arched window which he had de- scribed. Through it the jellow afternoon light was flooding now, even as then, checkered by the branches in their first fringe of green. Rut the tall clock which Lionel Carvel used to wind was at Calvert House, with many another treasure. They went up the stairs, and reverently they walked over the bare floors, their footfalls echoing tluougli tlie silent house. A score of scenes in her great-grandfather's 516 ^ «s» ANNAPOLIS 617 in! T\ y*T"'?- u"^^ ™ **»« room -the corner one at the baclfc of the main building, which looked out over the desert'^d garden -that had been Richard's mothers. She recfa'ied how he had stolen into it on that summer s dav after his return, and had flung open the flutters. They were open now, for their locks were off. Ihe prie-dieu was gone, and the dresser. But the hitrh whJf.T . ^'^' '^'JT^ ""^ '^ P^PPy counterpane and white curtains ; and tlie steps by which she had entered it. And next they went into the great square room that had been Lionel Carvel's, and there, too, wa« the roomy bed on which the old gentleman had lain with the gout, while Kichard read tu him from the Spectator. One side of it looked out on the trees in Freshwater Lane, and the other across the roof of the low house opposite to where the sun danced on the blue and white waters of the Chesapeake. "oney, said Virginia, as they stood in the deep recess of the wi-dow, "wouldn't it be nice if we could live here always, away from the world ? Just we two I But vou would never be content to do that," she said, smiling re- proachfully " You are the kind of man who must l^ in the mwJst of things. In a litUe while you will have far more besides me to think about." A ^\^^ ^"*^^ ^^ ^^^^ ^^^ note of sadness in her voice. And he drew her to him. " We all have our duty to perform in the world, dear." he answered. "It cannot be all pleasure." u" ^?l~^^^ Puritan ! " she cried. "To think that I should have married a Puritan I What would my great- great-great-great-grandfather say, who was such a stanch Royalist? Why, I think I can see him frowning at me now, from the door, in his blue velvet coat and silver- laced waistcoat." " He was well punished," retorted Stephen ; « his own grandson was a WTiig, and seems to have married a woman of spirit. " She had spirit," said Virginia. « I am sure that she did not allow my great-grandfather to kiss her — unless she wanted to." 618 THE CKI8I8 And she looked up at him, half smUin^, half poutinir, altogether bewitching. * "From what I hear of him, he was something of * man," said Stephen. " Perhaps he did it anyway." "I am glad that Marlborough Street isn't a crowded thoroughfare," said Virginia. When they had seen the dining room, with its carved mantel mad silver door-kaobs, and the ballroom in the wing, thev came out, and Stephen locked t^ door again, rhey walked around the house, and stood looking down the terraces,— once stately, but crumbled now,— where Dorothv Inid danced on the green on Richard's birthday. Beyond and below was the spring-house, and there was the place where the brook dived under the ruined wall, — where Dorothy had wound into her hair the lilies of the valley before she sailed for London. The remains of a wall that had once held a balustmde marked the outlines of the formal garden. The trim hedges, for seventy years neglected, had grown inconti- nent. The garden itself was full of wild green things -oming up through the brown of last season's growth. 3 It m the grass the blue violets nestled, and Virginia ficked some of these and put them in Stephen's coat. ** You must keep uhem always," she said, " because we ^t them here." They spied a seat besi.le a hoary trunk. There on many a spring day Lionel Carvel had sat reading his aoMette. And there they rested now. The sun hung low over the old-world gables in the street beyond the wall, and m the level rays was an apple tree du/zling white, hke a bride. The sweet fragrance which the day draws from the earth lingered in the air. It was Virginia who broke the silence. "Stephen, do you remember that fearful afternoon of the panic, when you came over from Anne Brinsmade's to reassure me ? " *' Yes, dear," he said. « But what made you think of It now ? " She did not answer him directly. ANNAPOLIS 519 I lieheved what you said, Stephen. But you were so strong, HO calm, so sure of yourself. I think thn made ITen*"^'"^ ^ ' thought how ridiculous I mi have He prefl8epie." He laughed. "That was the mowt uncomfortable of all, for me." "Stephen," she said, stirring the leaves at her feet "you might have teken me in your arms the night Judire Whipple died — If vou had wanted to. But you were strong enough to resist. I love you all the more for that." Again she said : — 520 THE CRISIS ^J ♦ " ^}^^«^ y^^ another, deareat, that we were most strongly drawn toother. I worshipped her from the day I saw her in the hospital. I believe that was the beginning of my charitv toward the North." " My mother would have chosen you above aU women, Virginia," he answered. ' In the morning came to them the news of Abraham Lincoln 8 death. And the same thought was in both their hearts, who had known him as it was given to few to know him. How he had lived in sorrow ; how he had died a martvr on the very day of Christ's death upon the cross. And they believed that Abraham LincolW gave world country even as Christ gave his for the And so must we believe that God has reserved for this INation a destiny high upon the earth. Many years afterward Stephen Brice read again to his wife those sublime closing words of the second inaugural : — " With malice toward none, with charity for all, with firm. ! •« <*« rtght as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in, to bind up the nation's wounds, to care for htm who shall have borne the battle, and for his widow and his children — to do all which may achieve and cnensh a just and lasting peace among ourselves and with aU nations. AFTERWORD The author has chosen St. Louis for the prmcioal scene of this story for many reasons. Grant aKw man were hving there before the Civil War?and Abmlmm Lincoln was an unknown lawyer in the neiUlK»rW sZ «hnl r""- ^^ ,*^, ^^'^ °°« ^^ ^^^ »»"»» of this bSok to show the remarkable contrasts in the lives of the^ weat ?Z ""^l.T"^ out of the West. This old city of St Louis, which was founded by Laclede in 1765, like wi^ became the principal meeting-place of two gr^t strel^ C^oSriX'^ToY ^- V'^ted^rreT^Tn'^: wrs^t^^Sfn^^he^^det^^^^^^^^ iTfe ^\tTn^ "^'^ ^'^'^^r^ -d Virgrn7a."'But thJ whioh w ^P^'^^'^.^^^f took on the more liberal tinge which had characterized that of the Royalists, even toX cTsm^oflh '^«'^"^1^.^°"'^^ ^'^^^^^^^^ wime the ^eu! ciam of the Roundheads was the keynote of the Puritan character in New England. When this great count^^ ours began to develop, the streams moved westward ; one over what became the plain states of Ohio and Indian^ and nUnois, and tbe other across the Blue Ridge Mountains into Kentucky and Tennessee. They mixed along the Une of Th^°«' can the German element in St. Louis be ignored. J^JT f ^*^^^ ^l ^^'^ P^**P^« ^" ^*»« Ci^il War is a mat- ter of history. Tlie scope of this book has not permitted tne author to introduce the peasantry and trading classes who formed the mass in this movement. But Richter, the o?r ?,vhe umversity-bred revolutionist who emigrated after 48, IS drawn more or less from life. And the duel described actuallv took place in Berlin. St. I^uis is the author's birthplace, and his home — 521 ' S22 THE CRISIS the home of thoee friends whom he has known from child- hood and who have always treated him with unfalterinir kindness. He ben that they wiU believe him when he says that only such characters as he loves are reminiscent of those he has known there. The city bos a large popu- Ution, —large enough to include all the types that are to be found in the middle West. One word more. This book is written of a time when feelmg ran high. It has been necessary to put strong speech into the mouths of the characters. The breach that threatened our country's existence is healed now. Ihere is no side but Abraham Lincoln's side. And this side, with all reverence and patriotism, the author has tried to take. Abraham Lincoln loved the South as well as the North. ■.m-'^ iifv ; afl^-~ir» .."; " .-V.*4:.«r^-i»