O o '* O o O o" "

 
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 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. i2mo. 
 
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 178 WASHINGTON STREET, BOSTON, MASS.
 
 WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 BY 
 
 EMORY J. HAYNES, D. D., 
 
 PASTOR TRKMONT TEMPLE CHURCH, BOSTON, 
 
 Author of " Dollars and Duty ," ''Are These Things 
 So? Etc., Etc. 
 
 BOSTON: 
 
 JAMES H. EARLE, PUBLISHER, 
 
 178 WASHINGTON STREET. 
 
 1890.
 
 Cifyrigkt, 
 BY JAMES H. EARLK. 
 
 All rightt reserved.
 
 INDEX TO CHAPTERS. 
 
 I. SHE WAS A FARMER 7 
 
 II. DOCTOR SMILES AND His SON .... 29 
 
 III. CAPTAIN BROON AND His SON .... 46 
 
 IV. A SHOCKING LIE 73 
 
 V. His MOUNTAIN PALACE ...... 98 
 
 VI. THE WAR MEETING 122 
 
 VII. THE SOLDIER'S WEDDING 147 
 
 VIII. OFF TO THE FRONT 168 
 
 IX. HERO OR POLTROON 180 
 
 X. THE BRIDE'S CONFESSION 200 
 
 XI. To ENLIST OR NOT TO ENLIST . . . 229 
 
 XII. NOT TO BE CAMP-FOLLOWERS .... 260 
 
 XIII. THE Two COLONELS MEET .... 288 
 
 XIV. THE ACCURSED SUPERSTITION AGAIN . 310 
 XV. SINK OR FLOAT 331 
 
 XVI. WHAT THE SEA DID TO THE SOLDIER 352 
 
 XVII. AND WHAT THE GOD OF THE SEA . . 377 
 
 XVIII. UNARMED 400 
 
 2034537
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 SHE WAS A FARMER. 
 
 pretty farmer lass again!" 
 The young gentleman, Mark Broon by 
 name, son of the did sailor - merchant Capt. 
 Charles Broon, of New York, whose weather- 
 beaten sign you may see on lower Broadway, 
 looked up from whipping the daisies at the road- 
 side and held his walking-stick in poise of gen- 
 uine embarrassment. 
 
 Yet he had purposely crossed the pasture 
 and threaded the cart-track through the dew-laden 
 meadow that he might pass the white farm- 
 house, in whose door he yesterday saw this 
 same superb face. Not that it was a very res- 
 olute purpose when he left the little village 
 hotel for a morning stroll. Still he had to con- 
 fess that he hoped to see her again. She had 
 troubled his dream, more or less, the preceding 
 
 7
 
 8 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 night. But as he leaped the fence to gain the 
 highway, just behind a sheltering clump of 
 alder-bushes, in order to see a casual passer-by 
 along the road, it was decidedly embarassing 
 to catch sudden sight of her sitting calmly 
 enthroned upon the stone-wall, and watching all 
 his motions. He must have been under her 
 eye all the way across her broad acres ; a tres- 
 passer, save that no New England farmer would 
 ever so regard it, even if he had trodden the 
 grass in long serpentine traces stretching away 
 to the village street where he entered the field. 
 But if not resenting his trespass, this pretty 
 spectator must have known that he came 
 straight towards the farm-house, evidently impa- 
 tiently ; for though the roadway would have 
 added a circling mile, it would have saved him 
 the dew, not yet risen, which had soiled his 
 blackened boots and bedraggled his clothing. 
 
 While he hesitated, a " hired man " looked up 
 from his corn-planting and gave him "good 
 morning." 
 
 " Ah, good morning to you, my man," replied 
 young Broon, much relieved. "This is a noble 
 farm. The Lane place, I believe they told me. 
 Mr. Lane" 
 
 "Mr. Lane is dead an* gone, sir, two year
 
 SHE WAS A FARMER. 
 
 ago," replied the workman, leaning on his hoe 
 and glad of an excuse for a rest. His right eye 
 seemed to be turned on the intruder, his left 
 on his silent young mistress sitting yonder. 
 " Yes, this ere place is kep' up good though. 
 Mrs. Lane's a mighty hand at runnin' her 
 place. We call it the Widder Lane place neow. 
 Know her ? " 
 
 " I have n't that pleasure," said Mr. Broon, 
 resting his arms akimbo arid thinking how hot 
 the sun was becoming, all the while conscious 
 that those great blue eyes from the wall, over 
 which the maple shade and sunspots were play- 
 ing, were regarding him. 
 
 " Stayin' up here?" asked the workman. 
 
 " Yes, for a time," was the reply. 
 
 "Pleasure, I s'pose?" 
 
 "Not altogether. Have business that calls 
 me here." 
 
 " Buyin' hosses, neow, maybe ? Colts is mighty 
 high this spring." 
 
 The young fellow politely replied that he was 
 not a horse dealer, nor a cattle drover, nor a 
 speculator in hay, cheese, butter, nor any other 
 "truck." All the while he was perfectly sure 
 that the beauty on the wall was sitting like a 
 charming rural judge in court, noting this per
 
 .0 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 sonal testimony by which a city stranger gave 
 account of himself, or rather failed to give ac- 
 count of himself. For he had not yet told any- 
 thing affirmatively of his errand "in these 
 parts." He might as well. Why not, and done 
 with it ? It would soon be known from the 
 tavern gossips ; indeed he must be known from 
 his former visits of last autumn, and the work- 
 men whom he was boarding and lodging in the 
 village. So he said : 
 
 " And, now, what is your name ? You are 
 good at asking questions, my man ? " 
 
 " Dick Loyly, sir." 
 
 " Well, Dick, my name is Mark Broon. I'm 
 the gentleman who purchased the top of Red Hill, 
 that mountain over there, last fall. I see by 
 your looks that you know all about it, and are 
 now glad to see the simpleton, as you all seem 
 to think me, who is building an expensive resi- 
 dence in such a place. Some people build a 
 summer-house by the seaside, but I prefer mine 
 among the mountains." 
 
 To "no one had he before deigned so much of 
 an explanation as the last remark, which was, 
 in fact, addressed to the owner of the blue eyes 
 on the stone wall. 
 
 There he stood, a well-knit frame of medium
 
 SHE WAS A FARMER. II 
 
 stature, broad-shouldered, neatly-attired, but for 
 his bedraggling through the sparkling meadows, 
 aged just twenty-four, as we happen to know, 
 that day ; a year out of college, rich, and with 
 no errand in life but seeking one. He pushed 
 his straw hat back to catch the mountain breeze 
 and to think, though what the hat has to do 
 with the thinking machinery of embarrassed men 
 is a mystery; but the motion revealed a fine 
 brow, which you would have called high, no 
 doubt, except for its width. His brown hair was 
 cut in the close-cropped habit of the stroke-oar 
 days. A rather full moustache with flowing ends 
 became him. His face was neither fat nor lean, 
 but his color was decided bronze and red. His 
 eyes were hazel, noteworthy and honest. Indeed, 
 it was something in the eye, something in the 
 resolute mouth, and something more in the rich 
 and unusual tones of his voice that impressed 
 Blue Eyes on the wall that this stranger, Mark 
 Broon, had a mind of his own. Whether 
 to trust him or not, this city stranger, and 
 extend the frank rural hospitality which he 
 evidently sought, Blue Eyes was as yet un- 
 decided. 
 
 At present she is contrasting him with the 
 flannel -shirted, cow-hide shod hoer of the corn,
 
 12 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 whose stridulous voice is now silenced as he 
 bends again to his toil. 
 
 But there she sits, aged twenty-two ( forgive 
 the accurate record, Laura Lane ) ; her mother's 
 only child and heir, a widow's darling and rich 
 as things go among these sheep-raising hills.. 
 But there is money in the village bank's unsafe 
 safe-deposit box too, as every young farmer in 
 five townships could tell us. And those two 
 years which exceed the usually marriageable 
 twenty, I really mentioned significantly. All 
 these two years the country folk have been won- 
 dering what she would, after all, finally do with 
 her pretty self. Ripe at twenty, this cherry is 
 fairly luscious at two and twenty, still hanging 
 on the bough sitting on the wall, rather. 
 
 Her broad straw hat, decidedly wider brimmed 
 than the fashion in parasols at Newport that 
 year, looked as odd as it was fastidious ; for a 
 green veil twined round the crown flew the 
 breeze in a charming sort of way, and compelled 
 the wearer to put up a fair white arm every 
 now and then to control the whole rigging. 
 She wore white, cut and made up in her own 
 style, indescribable except that her garments lay 
 about her and clung to her in comely grace, 
 not to mention the dazzling effect as the clear
 
 SHE WAS A FARMER. I 3 
 
 sunlight rested on the white beyond the shade 
 of that big hat. In her plump, small hand she 
 held a newspaper, yet in its wrapper, to secure 
 which from the hole in the bar-post, where the 
 stage-driver daily thrust it, was her errand hither. 
 White and pink, despite the sun, were hands 
 and face ; a wonderfully clear complexion, the 
 young man had noticed, such as perfect health 
 alone can give, and, from some favored few, no 
 amount of sun or wind can tan away. Very 
 light and almost wavy hair, luxuriant, with stray 
 silken skeins of it dividing her hands' attention 
 with the veil and yet crimps were not in 
 fashion, that I know of, in '61, and so far up 
 in the country. Such hair was it that young 
 Broon, being something of an artist, longed to 
 get the effect of pure sunlight on it. Her eyes 
 well, well, it was by her eyes that I first 
 designated her in this history ; they were the 
 all-noticed and first-noticed, as they were the 
 longest remembered by strangers. " That young 
 lady with the blue eyes," people would say, in 
 indicating her. And yet I know not which I 
 would most dwell upon, were I to dare a 
 description, their beauty or their kindness, the 
 richest charm, by the way, in a woman's 
 eyes.
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 Whatever of wood nymph and wings, however, 
 had been suggested as she half reclined upon 
 the ponderous granite stones, was dispelled when 
 the young lady stepped gracefully down in good 
 solid flesh and blood, weight and stature, to the 
 soft turf. She had evidently made up her mind 
 to greet and welcome the strange young man with 
 the simple, neighborly good-will which is usual 
 among these unconventional hills. 
 
 With hat in hand, and politely bowing, Mark 
 Broon was not slow to take the overture and 
 give her, in turn : 
 
 " Good morning. The lady of the house, or 
 farm, I should say, I presume. May I introduce 
 myself ? Broon is my name, of Red Hill, if I 
 may so say ; though I hardly dare hope you 
 have heard of your new neighbor." 
 
 " Indeed I have heard of you, sir," she replied, 
 advancing now towards the bars. She showed 
 pearls in her mouth, and her voice was musical 
 and kind, like her eyes. She seemed glad, more- 
 over, that he had relieved her of the need of 
 speaking first. "We do not stand much on cer- 
 emony, we farmers, Mr. Broon, as you will dis- 
 cover, I trust, to your pleasure, if at times to 
 your annoyance. Curiosity grows like a weed in 
 the country."
 
 SHE WAS A FARMER. 
 
 "Allow me," said Broon, dropping the two 
 top bars for her egress to the highway. 
 
 '* Thank you," she replied, blushing perceptibly 
 at sight of his tact, for she had not, till that 
 minute, fully decided to walk along the highway 
 with him as she returned to the farmhouse. 
 However, there seemed to be nothing else for it 
 now, and she put a trim slipper over the bottom 
 bar precipitately, not to trouble him too much 
 and stood beside him. " Do not mind to replace 
 them, sir. Dick, put up the bars, please. 
 
 But Mark had begun to replace them as she 
 spoke. Meanwhile, Miss Laura crossed the road- 
 way to the further side. On a country highway 
 pedestrians best walk along the very edge, or 
 in the path of the wheels at least. " A safe 
 distance apart," thought she, as they began to 
 move towards the house not far away. 
 
 " So you and your mother are the best farm- 
 ers in this country ? " he said. 
 
 " Indeed ? " she answered brightly, as much as 
 to say, " Who told you all about us ? and why 
 have you been inquiring ? " But she did not 
 pursue her advantage as she continued pleasantly, 
 " And would you consider that a compliment to 
 two women ? " 
 
 " Nothing is nobler than duty well done,
 
 16 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 whatever the duty, Miss Lane. But why did 
 you challenge me with such a question ? " 
 
 " I really did not intend it as a challenge," 
 she replied. " Only " and she grew silent as 
 she picked her way through the dust. 
 
 " Only you cherish the prevalent suspicion of 
 us unfortunate city visitors ? " he said with a 
 roguish twinkle in his glance. 
 
 " Suspicions are the worst of mental compan- 
 ions, I think," was her answer. " And I enter- 
 tain none of you, sir. Yet, of course, you are 
 aware that ladies who live on a farm cannot 
 quite be strangers to work. I can milk a cow, 
 for instance, though that is not saying I do it 
 every clay. I can tell you the present price 
 of good Timothy hay or clover by the ton, of 
 butter, eggs and cheese, which, by the way, I 
 do assist in making every day. I keep the 
 accounts of the farm, and have done it ever 
 since papa died, when I'm at home." 
 
 "Then you are not always at home? Perhaps 
 you visit in the city my own city, for instance," 
 and he caught at an adjacent shrub, stripping 
 off the leaves as he made the bold venture for 
 a biographical item. 
 
 " No ; though I have been in New York. 
 We have friends there. But I referred to
 
 SHE WAS A FARMER. 
 
 absence at school. What I meant was, however, 
 that we country people credit you city people 
 with keeping how shall I say it ? " she ex- 
 claimed in charming confusion. "You think that 
 a lady's place is in the parlor, or at some ele- 
 gant ease, or busy with society, or dress, or art, 
 or, oh dear, dear ! How did I ever come to 
 express my opinions of you people so openly ! " 
 and she gave the great hat a convenient tip to 
 leeward, hiding her face. 
 
 Mark Broon laughed heartily, at which she 
 quickly peeped out from beneath the hat at 
 him, half scared, half indignant. But his next 
 word rather reassured her, for he said : 
 
 "I shall not dispute you. Perhaps I might 
 criticise the city girls more intimately, and yet 
 more severely, than you have. Perhaps I don't 
 fancy them myself overmuch. But I know some 
 city girls who can ride finely." 
 
 " Yes ? There is my filly just come down to 
 the gate. Isn't she a beauty ! Do you ride, sir ? 
 I mean do you really love a horse ? A horse that 
 really knows and loves you as my Nell does 
 me ? " all of which questions came forth in child- 
 like carelessness, the speaker apparently uncon- 
 scious that any one of them might seem sugges- 
 tive of an invitation to this strange young man.
 
 1 8 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 She was all eyes for the pretty little mare who 
 was whinnying restlessly at the gate of the 
 lane at sight of her young mistress. She now 
 began waving one of those white, round arms at 
 the animal gleefully. 
 
 " Yes, that is a fine animal. Yes, I like a 
 good, true-hearted horse, as I do any other of God's 
 creatures which is good and true. Yes, I ride. Then 
 you never saw me pass here on my lonely way ?" 
 
 He looked hard enough at her with this last 
 remark ; but it was decidedly too pointed. She 
 had given the hat, veil, and all, another deft 
 touch by this time. 
 
 And really, now, the rural beauty began to 
 see that she had gone quite far enough even 
 for rural hospitality. Had she invited him to 
 take a gallop with her ? No ; she was sure she 
 had not. Had she been airing her accomplish- 
 ments before him ? No ; she had not told him 
 that she could paint, nor speak French, nor that 
 she knew how to dress, nor that she had grad- 
 uated at that school so briefly mentioned ; a 
 school, by the way, which has to this day no 
 superior for young ladies, if it is located in a 
 certain country village. No ; she had only 
 thought, in intense self-consciousness, " I won 
 der if he knows or imagines ? "
 
 SHE WAS A FARMER. 
 
 And the reader must not charge Laura with 
 conceit either. I have betrayed her secret 
 thoughts. What young woman of two and twenty 
 is not intensely self-conscious under the eyes of 
 a fine young fellow like Mark Broon ? And 
 then, too, had she indeed not seen him pass on 
 his "lonely way" more than once? Many a knight 
 goes in and out a young lady's air-castles in the 
 course of months of day-dreams. But her best 
 vindication against conceit is the peculiar suspi- 
 cion, of being considered unsophisticated and 
 "verdant as the hills," which country people 
 harbor towards their city visitors. You must 
 confess that you wouldn't like to be patronized 
 even as a "rural beauty." I don't charge Mark 
 Broon with attempting it ; I only say that she was 
 resolved that he had better not attempt it, re- 
 solved long ago, if it should ever chance that 
 they met. 
 
 He stood now opening the little white wicket 
 to the gravelled walk which, bordered with flowers, 
 ran down from the low white farm-house. 
 
 "What a lovely spot you have made of this," 
 he said, glancing up at the cosy dwelling. 
 -"'Nothing can exceed the grace of vines, those 
 running over the dormer of a stoop, as I believe 
 you Yankees call the porch, and all about the
 
 2o A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 front door. There is character in that building, 
 Miss Lane. I'll warrant you it looks just like 
 the man who built it ; your father, perhaps." 
 
 " Yes ; papa and grandpa. That old part was 
 grandpa's work ; this extension is ray father's. 
 I know what you mean. All city houses look 
 just alike. We all are wondering what your 
 splendid house will look like." 
 
 She had not yet stepped through the gate, 
 but stood close up beside him, as the hedge 
 and a hitching post compelled her. A splendid 
 match for him in stature was she. 
 
 " I do beg the privilege of inviting you to in- 
 spect Eagleroost for yourself," said he promptly, 
 "you and Mrs. Lane. Indeed, I shall have a 
 house-warming for all my neighbors, if they will 
 do me the honor." 
 
 After that it would not do to omit it, she 
 decided at once. 
 
 "Thank you. But will you come in and meet 
 my mamma now ? Oh, I forgot, mamma's head- 
 ache day!" and she was quite at a loss again. 
 
 But he helped her quick enough by saying, 
 "You might invite me to the cheese room and 
 feed me on fresh curd. Did you ever know a 
 boy who wasn't wild over cheese curd ? " 
 
 " I could tell you more about girls and cheese,"
 
 SHE WAS A FARMER. 21 
 
 she responded with a pretty laugh, and passed 
 on before him, saying, " I certainly will give you 
 a real fresh taste. This way, please." 
 
 They turned to the right, and walked directly 
 down to the extreme end of the yard ; through 
 flocks of geese which spread their snowy wings 
 and hissed a protest as they swept disdainfully 
 towards the barns ; through rear-guard of turkeys, 
 most of which were too young to " gobble, gob- 
 ble," though gobblers there were ; through a 
 bevy of hens and chickens, which cackled across 
 the ample lawn ; and finally making their way 
 straight across the lawn itself, as smooth as 
 velvet, as rich as any suburban stretch of green 
 you ever saw, and bordered with roses, well- 
 stocked, though hardly flowering yet, it being 
 early May. 
 
 In a moment more they were in the clean, 
 cool cheeze - room. He had removed his hat 
 instinctively, i ~ :f he had entered a parlor. She 
 had snatched ort hers, and lo, the glorious blond 
 hair, on which the morning sunlight, through the 
 eastern window, was entrancingly falling ! She 
 was soon stooping and lifting, setting this tub 
 aside and that, the strong and shapely arms 
 bared to the shoulder. If he had known how 
 to assist her, he yet doubtless could not for 
 very admiration of her.
 
 22 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 Of course this eating cheese curd together, 
 and cheese of her own make, too, think of 
 that fact ! soon broke down- the convention- 
 alities altogether. That is, I mean, eating cheese 
 curd from a pretty girl's fingers, as you have to, 
 unless you can trust your own unskilled and per- 
 haps unwashed fingers to guide the palpitating 
 morsel, is the best possible introduction. By 
 the time he had tasted and complimented to his 
 satisfaction, and hers respectively, these two 
 honest-hearted young people were no longer 
 strangers. As they emerged from the house it 
 seemed quite proper for her to invite him to 
 call at any time of course for the same pur- 
 pose, the fresh cheese. They were merry almost 
 to gaiety, uttering little pleasantries as they were 
 about to part at the foot of the garden. 
 
 " But I suppose I shall see you at church to- 
 morrow," he said. 
 
 She turned on him quickly with evident sur- 
 prise. Church ? Was this handsome cavalier 
 from the great, gay city observant of the Sab- 
 bath's approach, and so punctilious for church 
 worship that he proposed to perform it in that 
 unpretending little village affair? Certainly it 
 was the last thing in her thoughts of him. 
 "But, of course," she said instantly, to herself,
 
 SHE WAS A FARMER. 
 
 knowing the custom of country lovers, "it is 
 only as a convenient trysting place that he men- 
 tions it. If I tell the truth I shall not displease 
 this young man of the world." After which, 
 casting him a merry glance, yet a searching one, 
 she said : 
 
 "Why, no, Mr. Broon. Mamma entertains small 
 favor for the Orthodox church. I go occasionally; 
 but while I don't quite believe as mamma does, 
 yet I'm very happy all the day long, as my life 
 is now ; and and don't need to well, it is so 
 soon, and " 
 
 Poor thing ! Her face lost its smiles, word by 
 word, as she noted the grave cast of uncon- 
 cealed astonishment which shadowed his. Her 
 reply, half attempting to give reasons and in- 
 tended probably to advance into confident argu- 
 ment, as was the custom with the proper young 
 men of the region and the shocked old clergy- 
 man of the village, could not maintain itself in 
 that vein before Mark's thoughtful eyes. She 
 began to pull a rose to pieces, and, to her own 
 surprise, to almost hope that he would go with- 
 out reply. 
 
 Laura Lane was not the first to be impressed, 
 and strangely overawed by that peculiar look 
 now resting on Mark Broon's fine face. Mag-
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 nanimous, yet not commanding ; pure even to 
 severity, yet kind ; it was a look of pain, more* 
 over, in this case ; and while she watched it 
 with demure glances, she noticed that its spir- 
 ited first flashes faded into a shyness, as if he was 
 disposed to retreat from some evil influence and 
 injury. Or, it might be that he was too gallant 
 to enter on debate with her and, by effort, was 
 restraining himself. At all events she was sure 
 of two things : that she had not enhanced his 
 good opinion of herself, for which was she cer- 
 tain that she cared ? and that he would not con- 
 tinue the conversation upon the religious topic, 
 as most religious people whom she had met 
 seemed to think they must do for her rescue. 
 Indeed, she concluded that undoubtedly he was 
 that, to her, inexplicable creature, a rich, edu- 
 cated and pious young man. 
 
 Recovering now his fascinating manner, he 
 said, " Very well, no doubt we shall encounter 
 each other on the road, if nowhere else. By 
 the way, may I not call for you Monday morn- 
 ing for a gallop over these hills ? You shall 
 show me many a mountain path which even I 
 have not explored." 
 
 She might possibly have done it, made the 
 appointment on the impulse of a confidence
 
 SHE WAS A FARMER. 2 $ 
 
 which Mark Broon inspired in all who met him. 
 And yet I venture that she would have found 
 some other excuse, had not her mother just then 
 most opportunely thrown open the blind of the 
 low embowered window which opened into her 
 retired room, and shown her pale, interesting face 
 thereat. 
 
 " Mamma, did you think me lost ? " This in a 
 silvery shout. Then to Mr. Broon, " Come, I will 
 introduce you most informally." 
 
 The visitor was glad to find this added way 
 into the good graces of the family. The lan- 
 guid lady, most unlike the robust farmer's 
 widow and successful manager of these flourish- 
 ing acres which he had pictured to himself, 
 greeted him kindly; had of course heard of him, 
 through the village newspaper gossip ; was not 
 always as poorly as he saw her to-day; indeed, 
 was expecting the physician any moment ; yes, 
 there was his carriage approaching over the 
 hill. Would Mr. Broon call again, and continue 
 the acquaintance so casually begun ? and yet it 
 was a guarded welcome. So much so, the 
 shrewd woman, that he hardly knew why, 
 young Broon did not venture to prefer to the 
 mother the request that the daughter had evi- 
 dently referred to her.
 
 26 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 The physician's carriage now being at the 
 the block, Broon touched his hat and was 
 about to go. But to his surprise, instead of 
 entering the house, the younger lady offered to 
 lead him by another exit towards the highway. 
 Her lead, though delicate, and with no verbal 
 expression, was decided and unmistakable. Mark 
 yielded to it. They passed away from the path 
 oy which the physician would enter. 
 
 " Do you know, our or that is, mamma's 
 physician ? I mean," she continued with an 
 unmistakable little flutter of apprehension, "did 
 you ever hear of him in the city ? " 
 
 "In New York ? Which is he ? " replied Mark, 
 turning to see two gentlemen, one of say sixty 
 years, and standing idly waiting ; the other a 
 young man perhaps five and twenty, who was 
 hitching the horse. 
 
 "The elder man is the doctor. Smiles is his 
 name," said she. Her face was strikingly pale ; 
 her voice sounded timid, and her words hesitat- 
 ing. "The other is his son, Erastus." 
 
 No; Mark had never heard of "the great Dr. 
 Smiles." Had her mother found him remarkably 
 skilful ? What was his peculiarity ? Or why did 
 she ask ? But of course he might be quite igno- 
 rant of the most famous physician without that
 
 SHE WAS A FARMER. 27 
 
 being to the man's prejudice, having himself no 
 remembrance of ever having been sick enough 
 to call one. 
 
 She was now opening the gate for him. Her 
 hand fumbled at even that familiar latch. As 
 he bent to help her, their hands touched acci- 
 dentally. Hers were as cold as ice. All the 
 light and laughter, moreover, had gone out of 
 that wonderful face. It wore an aspect of inde- 
 scribable distress. 
 
 Had he known her but a few days, instead of 
 less than a few hours, he would have offered her 
 the comfort of a direct, " What is the matter ? " 
 But as it was, he only looked it ; and feeling 
 the delicacy of the situation, was about to even 
 hasten his departure. But the young girl's eyes 
 seemed fairly to cling to him, as if for protec- 
 tion ; yet, with great self-control, she merely re- 
 marked : 
 
 " You seemed to wonder that we never went 
 to church. We have too much religion, such as 
 it is, at home." 
 
 " Too much religion ? " 
 
 "That man is a religious healer." 
 
 "A what?" 
 
 "Indeed, I know not how else to characterize 
 him, sir. He heals by by spiritualistic pro-
 
 2 8 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 cesses. Oh, oh, what have I said ! And yet 
 have you never heard of the widow Lane's 'super- 
 stition,' as the villagers call it ? " 
 
 And before Broon could answer, the girl had 
 flown, like some white-winged thing, up through 
 the garden shrubbery, and disappeared from his 
 sight.
 
 DR. SMILES AND HIS SON. 29 
 
 II. 
 
 DR. SMILES AND HIS SON. 
 
 4 4 y TELL you, father, it will not work ! " 
 
 *- "What will not work, my dear Erastus?" 
 answered Dr. Smiles with soft and rising inflection 
 and exasperatingly calm. 
 
 The elder man reclined in the easiest chair the 
 little hotel could afford. He rested his elbows 
 on its arms, and put the tips of his fingers^ 
 together, one by one, beginning with the 
 thumbs, which could be turned back almost in a 
 half circle. 
 
 The son took another turn up and down the 
 parlor, which the famous doctor had hired for 
 his exclusive use, not minding the price, and 
 which he improvised as an office during his 
 short and lucrative tarry among these ailing 
 country folk. His monopoly of the best room in 
 the only Bethlehem hotel open at this season 
 of the year, was not a bad advertisement either. 
 It discommoded everybody, and these were the 
 days when the represenatives of not a few wealthy
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 invalids from the cities were up here prospecting 
 for White Mountain summer board. But the good 
 doctor was by no means averse to combining busi- 
 ness with pleasure. His vast city patronage gen- 
 erally began to tell on even his iron endurance by 
 spring. Experience had shown him that severe 
 winters, a salt pork diet, and sparse physicians 
 over these vast and noble hills, made eager wel- 
 come for "the healer." He came, moreover, 
 with a sounding of trumpets. 
 
 Perhaps one had better not venture to give, 
 yet, the greatest reason for his welcome. You 
 would not call a Yankee an easy dupe in a 
 trade. He is not over credulous in a horse bar- 
 
 i 
 
 gain. He has been the boldest critic of sena- 
 tors, the most doughty defender of liberty, and 
 the ablest legislator for equal rights in all our 
 national history. Perish the hand that writes an 
 untruth against my fathers, of whom I count 
 seven generations to the soil born ! Yet I dare 
 write it that New England has been good soil 
 for the growth of superstitions and "heresies." 
 Of all the grotesque beliefs of the civilized 
 world, where will you find more strange than in 
 some of those villages where warring sects of 
 orthodoxy have impoverished each other? A vil- 
 lage of fifteen hundred souls," all told, and four
 
 DR. SMILES AND HIS SON. 31 
 
 different denominations struggling to see whose 
 church spire shall first crumble with red rot to 
 the ground. Four devoted clergymen fighting 
 starvation, and only escaping by a liberal contri- 
 bution of "hay, if they cut it themselves," pump- 
 kins and potatoes, corn and squashes, loaded into 
 the bags they carry in pastoral rounds, "dona- 
 tions" scrupulously charged in settling the salary 
 at the year's end, and other humiliating begging 
 in broadcloth! Farmers pious and high-minded, 
 the noblest of the earth, there are. Yet other 
 farmers, like the literal heathen, who never think 
 of attending the distant village church, who have 
 quietly slipped away from the old beliefs, some- 
 times with thought, and yet oftener with no 
 verdict of the mind. Merely blank to faith, and 
 given to the hard grind for a pinched fortune. 
 Often indifferent, often bitterly hating the Chris- 
 tianity they have rejected, and ready victims for 
 religious adventurers. A man who believes noth- 
 ing is preparing to believe anything. Dr. 
 Smiles is intending to erect his "Great Cura- 
 tive Religious Sanitarium" up here, and if he 
 does he may make it pay. 
 
 "What will not do, my son?" again asked 
 the doctor, as the young man stood yet silent 
 and gazing out on the blue mountains.
 
 32 A WEDDING IN WAX-TIME. 
 
 "Why, this plan of yours regarding Laura Lane 
 and myself," responded the youth, with an 
 abrupt turn. " Here I am graduated. For a 
 good year I threw myself not a little in her 
 society, by visiting my sisters at the same 
 school with her. But the girls will tell you that 
 she abominates me, except when you are present. 
 We renew the siege up here now for a month, 
 and all the advantages mine; but it is evident 
 to me that that young Broon whom I used to 
 know, by the way, at college " 
 
 " Indeed ! " 
 
 "Yes. Never would acknowledge me though, 
 by more than a distant bow, and has not about 
 the village here; did not the day we first set 
 eyes on each other up here that time at the 
 widow's. Well, he makes progress with her, 
 or can if he wishes, as I am hardly certain 
 yet that he does ; and if he hesitates I believe 
 it is on account of your intimacy with the 
 family. He's rich, and besides being rich, 
 Broon is " 
 
 But the young gentleman did not conclude 
 his sentence. Instead, he resumed his fretted 
 stride up and down the long room, the frail 
 floor trembling under his feet, the faded and 
 dusty three-ply carpet but feebly muffling his
 
 DR. SMILES AND HIS SON. 33 
 
 stalwart tread. Yet he knew that time served 
 for this important conference; the "office hours" 
 were over for the day ; the last patient had re- 
 tired, and the paternal wallet was well fattened 
 that morning. 
 
 After a while the son paused on his heel at the 
 opposite end of the great center-table, and thrust 
 his hands down yet a little deeper into his trou- 
 sers' pockets. As he did not even yet offer to fin- 
 ish his last sentence, his father coolly studied him 
 over the tips of his bent thumbs. He could 
 not say that his son was fine looking. Indeed, 
 it occurred to the sire that his Erastus had rather 
 grown in ill-favoredness of late. He confessed to 
 himself that the boy's hair was too light it 
 was flaxen and his heavy moustache too dark 
 it was large and jet black, upon honor, reader. 
 His own father smiled cynically at such a curi- 
 osity, one black eye and one decidedly blue. 
 The forehead was lumpy, yet decidedly intellect- 
 ual. The young man had a scholarly air, and 
 looked like anything but a business man, the 
 calling proposed to himself and agreed upon in 
 the family councils. Everything in this group 
 was agreed upon in family council. Tall, broad- 
 shouldered, with a waist like a long meal sack, 
 he spread his well-dressed legs apart indeed,
 
 34 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 his whole dress was in the extreme of fashion 
 and stood looking at his father, out of his 
 blue eye particularly, and yet said nothing. 
 
 " Well, Erastus," the thumbs and ringers to 
 the front, " you say Broon has something else 
 besides money to recommend him to Miss Lane. 
 What else?" 
 
 "A bright mind, for instance," faltered Eras- 
 tus. 
 
 The paternal thumbs seemed to ask, "What 
 else?" 
 
 "And a royal good heart, though I do hate 
 him ! " 
 
 Thumbs were not yet satisfied. 
 
 " And a fine person ; he's handsome." 
 
 Thumbs rolled very far back by the long white 
 forefingers of each hand in turn, still question- 
 ing. 
 
 " Well, father, I'd rather not say what else 
 straight to your face." 
 
 One thumb was now bent over till it touched 
 the wrist. The other strange fingers were all in 
 air. The coal-black eyes of Dr. Smiles glistened 
 through the forest of his own fingers, and fire 
 seemed to stream from them. The son was 
 accustomed to the spell, but yet he grew hot in 
 the glare. All the while the older face was
 
 DJR. SMILES AND HIS SON. 35 
 
 wreathed in its own peculiar tranquil smile. 
 Not a word, however, from behind the bush of 
 iron-gray whiskers and moustache. 
 
 " Well, if you will have it, father, Broon has 
 family station in the city. His father is not a 
 not a " 
 
 " Quack, my son ? " softly spoke Dr. Smiles. 
 
 " Heavens ! my father ! I have knocked a man 
 down for connecting that word with your name!" 
 Erastus brought his great hand out of pocket 
 and crashed it down on the table. His pale 
 face flushed scarlet as he continued, "You know, 
 father, that we all reverence you. To us you 
 are a divine man. But there is no use talking ; 
 the wicked world don't believe in your in 
 your art and science. So much the worse for 
 the world, say you ? Yes, because you dwell in 
 the sublime heights of Parnassus, among the 
 gods, sir. But we, the children, your daughters, 
 and I, your only son, we dwell among mankind. 
 We feel the sneer." 
 
 " Sneers, Erastus ? " 
 
 The words came from the elder man's moveless 
 face as blue flame leaps up from a spirit lamp. 
 There was no burst of anger. It was a quiet, 
 unconquerable contempt for the world's sneer. It 
 was imperturbable sneer for sneer ; and you felt
 
 36 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 that this one sneer could out-hiss the combined 
 world. 
 
 "I know, I know," said the son, plunging 
 into pockets again, and pacing the room while 
 he addressed the three-ply underfoot. " But we 
 children cannot laugh back at mankind as you 
 can ; for we do not victimize them. We meet 
 it everywhere, that we are a family of adventur- 
 ers. Not so bad if we were succeeding. You 
 make money out of the weakness of mankind, 
 but I cannot as a merchant ; your daughters 
 
 cannot. It was a mistake, our moving to S . 
 
 It is too small a city. New York was better. 
 In New York people do not scrutinize so 
 closely, for there everybody is on the make. 
 
 But in S , though you grow rich as Ned, 
 
 yet society is closed to you and us. And Laura 
 Lane's kindred in that city are well, you know 
 the mayor is her uncle, and a bucolic ex-gov- 
 ernor is another uncle. I ? There isn't a ghost 
 of a chance for me with the girl, unless " 
 
 " Unless I compel her, eh ? " broke in the 
 good doctor," as he unwound his long legs and 
 reached for a cigar. He began smoking and 
 went on to say : 
 
 "Erastus, my hopeful, I must help you. I will. 
 I am devoted to my family. Imagine yourself
 
 DR. SMILES AND HIS SOA r . 37 
 
 at our home in S . Look about you; not 
 
 many physicians, however regular" and there 
 was another shoot of the spirit-lamp flame playing 
 about that word, "regular," "are lodged like me. 
 Is not our house a petit palace ? Do we not 
 live like princes? I tell you, it pays, Erastus, 
 this quackery, though I spurn the word. What's 
 in a name, boy? It brings clean money. Men 
 lift their hats to me, and women employ me. 
 I'll marry my girls off to advantage, be sure 
 of that ; and you shall have Laura Lane. 
 D' ye hear? Mrs. Lane is a good soul. I find 
 the girl herself not altogether intractable ; she 
 obeys me. She visits at S . S is bet- 
 ter than New York because it is certain miles 
 from New York. You are dull; was I not well 
 known in New York as an unsuccessful school- 
 teacher, and a very zealot in the church, before 
 I went into the present business profession I 
 mean ? And now this family, this proud, virtu- 
 ous, benevolent, rich family of Broon ! Capt. 
 Broon. Yes." More burning spirits. "Why, sir, 
 I can put my thumb on him, if I set about it, 
 like that ! " The speaker pressed his right 
 thumb to the table, and rolled it slowly through 
 its half circle, as if it were the wheel of 
 fate.
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 "How?" 
 
 " How ? Why, how do I effect my purposes ? " 
 The doctor did here deign to regard the world's 
 ears enough to glance about the room to make 
 sure none of the world's many ears were within 
 hearing distance, when, leaning forward, half his 
 weight on that thumb, he continued, "I have in. 
 fluence with men. It is not money influence, nor 
 political, nor social. Yet where is the man who 
 can resist me ? You know how men melt 
 like wax before my eye, and under my promises 
 of restored health. Capt. Broon indeed ! Young 
 Mark Broon indeed ! Mayors and governors 
 indeed ! " 
 
 Harder and harder pressed the thumb upon 
 the poor table at each exclamation, till the pine 
 wood trembled, and the unremoved lamp, borne 
 up by a mimic Hercules, fairly shook the glass 
 shade it supported. Presently the wick might 
 almost be lighted by the fire from those black 
 glances. 
 
 "And yet, father, it is not every disease that 
 you can cure." 
 
 "What, for instance?" 
 
 "A broken heart, for instance, father." 
 
 " I don't catch your meaning," and he set- 
 tled back into the great chair, smoking at ease,
 
 DR. SMILES AND HIS SON. 39 
 
 as if the meaning could be of no account if 
 caught. 
 
 " Why, suppose this glorious girl is compelled 
 to assent some day, when all's ready, to the 
 calling of a clergymen into her mother's parlor ; 
 is compelled by your power over her to say yes 
 to the marriage ceremony, what then ? She is 
 to be my wife, and not yours. When you are 
 out of sight, what ? She'll die upon my hands, 
 sir, of a broken heart. Oh, 'tis too desperate 
 a game, father. I will not go on." 
 
 " Oh, yes you will, Erastus." This in such 
 silvery calmness, yet in such confidence of the 
 strange eyes. 
 
 "True," responded the son, sinking pliantly 
 into a chair. " I shall go on ! I always have. 
 I, at least, cannot resist you. But I shall go 
 on to destruction ; for you yourself know that 
 not all persons are sensitive to your personal mag- 
 netism. Capt. Broon may not be. Mark Broon, 
 I am sure, will not be." 
 
 "They need not be, Erastus; though I doubt 
 your doubts. I believe I could win both of them 
 if permitted sufficient opportunity. However, you 
 need not strike a man when you can set another 
 at it. Our lives are like threads in a woven 
 texture. Cut one and others unravel at a dis-
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 tance. "But yet," he added tranquilly, "what 
 need of plotting mischief against people who 
 have not yet proved my foes? Not one of 
 these persons has yet crossed our path, except 
 in your fruitful imagination. As to any favor 
 that Miss Lane has shown young Broon, why, 
 didn't it drop out 'that first day we encountered 
 him there, that the wise mother disapproved of 
 the young lady's cordial hospitality to a per- 
 fect stranger ? That shows you that their 
 acquaintance began not a month ago. She rides 
 with him. Ask her to ride with you, you dul- 
 lard. Oh, I wish I could do your wooing for 
 you ! " 
 
 "You will have to, sir, I fear," said the son, 
 dropping into a chair and covering his face with 
 his hands. 
 
 " Pshaw, man ! " resumed the elder gentleman, 
 leaning forward and slyly touching the other's 
 hand with the glowing cigar, a mere touch, 
 which made the other start, at which the fathei 
 laughed. " Pshaw, I say. Couldn't you see for 
 yourself that very first day that the rich widow 
 was on our side ? And haven't you seen enough 
 of this noble girl herself to know that she 
 would give her life to please that mother? There's 
 filial piety for you."
 
 DR. SMILES AND HIS SON. 
 
 " She is indeed a child of most loyal love ! " 
 exclaimed the young man. " Her mother is her 
 idol. Her mother's wish is her religion." 
 
 " Religion ? Exactly. There you have it again. 
 The Lanes are sceptics. And Broon, now ! I 
 have seen the fellow, every Sunday that we 
 have been here, scrupulously wending his way 
 down the street towards the churches. He must 
 be a fiery church enthusiast. Do you know 
 anything about it ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes. He is all that sort of thing," was 
 Erastus' reply, as he thrust his hands again into 
 his pockets, and pushed his legs under the 
 table. " Curious," and a smile stole over his 
 features at the memory. " He was stroke oar 
 in the best race we ever had, and yet wouldn't 
 practice on Sunday, wouldn't stay away from 
 church, wouldn't bet. I don't believe that fellow 
 ever went to Fordham or Sheepshead Bay in his 
 life ; and yet they say he drives as good horses 
 as go up Fifth Avenue. He never was a prig 
 in college, mighty popular. Of course I've seen 
 nothing of his New York life myself ; but I wrote 
 young Dr. Lathrop you know him, who is in 
 society that most exclusive society, I mean, 
 last week, asking about my rival. He says, ' He's 
 a tip-top fellow, little odd, whose only trouble
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 is that he's rather too nice in morals to enjoy 
 town, and too rich to have any serious business 
 in life.' Lathrop says," and here Erastus fum- 
 bled in his pocket for the letter which he began 
 to read, "that the fellows laugh a good deal 
 about Mark Broon's errand in life ; he is look- 
 ing for a mission, that is, some heroic adven- 
 ture, something more chivalric than adding to 
 the pile his father will leave him. But for all 
 that, he's a mighty fine chap ; worthy to be 
 trusted, etc., etc," and he folded up the letter 
 with, "Of course I didn't teH Lathrop why I 
 wanted to know." 
 
 Musing a while, the father at length resumed : 
 
 " Inexplicable human nature ! You would sup- 
 pose such a youth could find what he wanted 
 nearer than this farm-house." 
 
 " What ? So beautiful a woman as she ? Seri- 
 ously, father, where did you ever see such a 
 face, such a farm, such wealth, such inno- 
 cence ? " 
 
 " But it all depends, I foresee," continued the 
 doctor yet musing and unheeding the interrup- 
 tion, "upon whether or not he can impress this 
 fair unbeliever with his religious views. He is 
 evidently too sincere a man to wed a sceptic, how- 
 ever beautiful. Sincere ? It is the respectability
 
 DR. SMILES AND HIS SON. 
 
 43 
 
 of the thing rather than sincerity. It wouldn't 
 be respectable, according to his social circle, to 
 be joined to one of my pupils." 
 
 " But the young lady is not your disciple," 
 said Erastus, who was keeping close track of 
 his father's reasoning. 
 
 "Not exactly; yet her mother is." 
 
 With that they left it for the present and 
 went out to take a drive. The doctor was a 
 free liver, as most adventurers are. He had the 
 daily use of the finest team of horses to be 
 had in that "horse country," both for profes- 
 sional uses and excursions of pleasure. 
 
 Erastus held the reins well, and they were 
 invariably given to him while the " eminent 
 healer," as the advertisements styled him, leaned 
 back in the vehicle advantageously poised alike 
 for public exhibition and personal ease. 
 
 "Drive past the widow's place, my son," said 
 the doctor, as the animals sprang away, "and I 
 will point out to you the eligibility of that hill- 
 top for my sanitarium." 
 
 A few minutes later, as they slowed into a walk 
 past the pretty embowered cottage, the doctor 
 said : 
 
 " There ! You see this commands the whole 
 village, and yet it is a mere easy swell of the
 
 44 
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 undulating valley. It would be in full sight of the 
 railway station and the coach lines. Everybody 
 would have it in full view. A breezy spot. 
 All this maple grove at its back; that lake just 
 over the knoll. Oh, it is the situation I have 
 been searching for these years ! " 
 
 The son smiled at the mention of years, for 
 it was not yet five since the parvenu physician 
 was vexing his brains over refractory pupils and 
 the want of them, in his distant town school. 
 But the Smiles family indulged the figment on 
 the father's part, being afraid to cross him, 
 while he, on his part, spoke of years to accus- 
 tom himself to the sound, and to prevent awk- 
 ward slips that might in public betray his new- 
 ness in the healing art. 
 
 "If you were less unfortunate in .Wall Street, 
 father, and, by-the-way, do you think it wise 
 for you to dabble there so much ? You have a 
 good revenue " 
 
 "And how long will it continue so ? " was 
 the reply "I know what you mean. .Why not 
 make hay while the sun shines, husband my 
 resources, and buy the place out and out, or 
 give up the scheme altogether, confining myself 
 to private practice ? But I must spend freely ; 
 it comes natural to me, and was so to you and
 
 DR. SMILES AND HIS SON. 45 
 
 the children ; and life is short, and heretofore 
 I mean years ago life was pinched and poor 
 enough. Let's enjoy, say I ! As to the revenue 
 of private practice such as mine, it's mighty 
 uncertain. I must continue to startle the people. 
 I must have my great Sanitarium. As to buying 
 out and out what I can get as a free gift, per- 
 haps, who knows what the benevolent widow 
 may do for suffering humanity, and in memoriam 
 of the departed Lane ? There ! My idea is," 
 and he sat up to indicate with his finger the 
 advantages which the widow's present dwelling 
 presented for a beginning, "to start off with 
 this very structure. It is itself an ample old 
 affair and finely built. Fill this up first with 
 patients. Then erect the larger building just 
 beyond there." 
 
 And as the spirited colts began to be impa- 
 tient, descending the finely sloping road beyond, 
 they were soon sweeping round the little lake 
 and along the winding river, which added feat- 
 ures of the landscape's desirability for their pur- 
 poses, engrossed them afresh, as it had many 
 times before now.
 
 46 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME, 
 
 III. 
 
 . CAPTAIN BROON AND HIS SON. 
 
 TV yTARK BROON did meet Laura Lane at 
 the little village church on the Sunday 
 following his informal call at her mother's, and 
 on several other Sundays succeeding. The vil- 
 lagers remarked her presence, made all sorts of 
 guesses as to the reason why, and finally hit 
 upon the correct one. Indeed, that was evident 
 enough after a little time, for she and "the 
 young city feller " usually found each other at 
 the service's close, and walked away side by 
 side towards her home. 
 
 "She'll turn Orthodox quick 'nough, now," 
 said old deacon Pitkins, one day, as he observed 
 the couple depart. And the old man drew out 
 his jack-knife, cutting off a fresh quid of Black 
 Jack with a smile of satisfaction. "I've mourned 
 arter the backslidin' of widder Lane and Zion's 
 loss long while. But that ar young Broon's 
 sound, an'll fetch the hull family back. Fresh 
 chaw, brother Bodely ? Tackle a fresh chaw ? " 
 extending his plug to his associate deacon.
 
 CAPTAIN BROON AND HIS SON. 47 
 
 "I don't know 'bout that," responded deacon 
 Bodely; not about the "fresh chaw," which he 
 accepted readily, and with a surprised glance at 
 the unusual generosity born of a great, though 
 he feared, a deceitful hopefulness. Then, casting 
 a look round at the weather as they descended 
 the steps towards the horse-sheds and their noon 
 whittling, brother Bodely interjected : 
 
 " Pesky dry ! No hay year. Dry's punk up our 
 way. No, I don't know 'bout that fine gal's 
 bein' brought back tew the church by mere 
 courtin'. Ah, the dess'lations of Zion by these 
 ere nothin'arian beliefs ! Speret'lism and back- 
 slidin's hard tew rut eout. Besides, I see that 
 ere new-fangled healer a-hangin' round the wid- 
 der's a gud deal. His son is arter the gal 
 tew." 
 
 "No doubt, deacon, " replied Mr. Pitkins. 
 "But," (The dashes shall represent shots at the 
 mullein stalks which grew temptingly within spit- 
 ting distance of the venerable pair on a dropped 
 rail of the fence near the sheds. And they 
 were venerable, reader, if genuine rugged and 
 severe sectarian loyalty is venerable when the 
 piety is nearly dead.) "But you can see this 
 ere fine young Broon giv us a subscription of 
 a hundred dollars easy as a wink last week fur
 
 48 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 paintin' the spire you can see him a ridin' 
 hossback with that sweet-as-a-picter Miss Lane 
 putty often " 
 
 "Yes. He's trying tew plow with that heifer 
 if he can. I'd like ter see him git her. She's 
 wuth savin' tew the cause." 
 
 And yet they were good neighbors, good 
 farmers and good members as things went in 
 the village churches where "the cause" meant 
 little more than sustaining the temporalities of 
 a church dying or dead spiritually. 
 
 "He's a marster feller fur lively meetin's, is 
 this Broon," resumed "father" Pitkins. "He 
 axed me t'other day ef our prayer-meetin's 
 ware allus as dead as the one he was in Wednes- 
 day night afore " 
 
 " Leetle sprung, deacon? jest a leetle ? " 
 asked deacon Bodely, who had soon walked over 
 to the sheds where the horses stood. 
 
 " No ! Folded so ! sure's preachin', brother. 
 You can ax the parson ef that colt's fore leg 
 was ever different. Feel her all over. Go right 
 ahead wanted to know ef our preacher felt 
 discouraged ever tew think o' them dead an' 
 alive meetin's and long prayers. Hi, Zip! So, 
 so ! Put yer hand right down tew the fetlock, 
 Bodely. The little scamp ! never knew her tew 
 kick"
 
 CAPTAIN BROON AND HIS SON. 
 
 49 
 
 " But the set time tew favor Zion hain't come 
 t( w the village fur a long while, brother. She'll 
 bi white, come in white, in a few years them 
 gray hairs." 
 
 " Of course. Broon was a-sayin' that we oter 
 liev new singin' books and a organ and Sun- 
 day-school papers, an' be a-doin' mission work 
 among the hills about. Offered tew give the 
 noney that's where she over reached in the 
 >now last year a little lamp ile and powder 
 11 bring in the hair." 
 
 " ' We must pray more for spiritual power,' sez 
 Broon tew me," replied Bodely. " He was a-tell- 
 n' me of the power them city churches hez. 
 He sez, sez he not more'n a hundred an' 
 rifty fur her, deacon. Sposen 'twas Monday, I'll 
 giv ye that fur her. Broon sez that the wick- 
 edest folks on the one hand, and the most de- 
 voted sarvents of the Lord on t'other hand, 
 aire found in great cities ; and that these ere 
 churches of ourn in the country aire neither 
 cold nor hot." 
 
 " Sposen 'twas Monday, I'll take a hundred 
 and seventy-five for the colt, deacon," was Pit- 
 kin's answer, as the good man shot again at the 
 nearest nodding mullein stalk with wonderful 
 labial marksmanship.
 
 5 o A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 "Sposen 'twas Monday, I'll leave it tew Lem 
 Dowd an' Ichabod Siraras. Here, boys, yew know 
 colts, come over here." 
 
 The two young fellows drew near, munching 
 their red round doughnuts and cheese as they 
 came. To whom deacon Bodely at once re- 
 marked : 
 
 "He was a-talkin' about the speretual dearth 
 of Zion, which this ere young city feller seems 
 tew feel more'n we do ez ye wud a-heard 
 ef ye had been tew prayer - meetin' as ye ought 
 t'other night, and a-keepin' yer cuvenant vows ; 
 and we were jest sposen 'twas Monday, shall it 
 be a hundred an' fifty or seventy-five for that 
 ere colt?" 
 
 " But it's Sunday, deacon, Sunday, Sunday ! " 
 exclaimed one of the young men, with a twin- 
 kle in his eye, as he gave the venerable man 
 this mock rebuke, at the same time he came 
 near enough to pat the colt on the rump with 
 the hand he had pulled from his trousers pocket. 
 "We sha'n't help your hoss trade unless you help 
 us decide what politics this young Broon is." 
 
 " Oh, he's a hot R'publican. That's easy 
 'nough," replied deacon Bodely. 
 
 "And tell him," put in the other youth, 
 pointing significantly with his left elbow, for both
 
 CAPTAIN BROON AND HIS SON. 5! 
 
 his hands were in his pockets, "whether he'd 
 better hoss-whip the city chap for cuttin' him 
 out with the widder's daughter." 
 
 "There ain't no two boys in town that can get 
 that harndsome Broon on the hip lock," answered 
 Lem. "Besides, I like the feller. He's a gen- 
 tleman." 
 
 " Oh, you talk ! " said Ichabod. " You know 
 that a dozen boys are gettin' up muscle for 
 him. 'Cause he's goin' to git the girl. He'll 
 have his saddle girth slit, or his mare's tail 
 sheered, afore the summer's out, or my name 
 ain't Simms ! " 
 
 "Afore the summer's out the boys '11 have 
 more r'spect'ble fighin* to do, if the papers tell 
 the truth," thoughtfully remarked Dowd. 
 
 "Then only them as can hire substitutes, or 
 don't get drafted, can marry, eh ? Well, that 
 fust means your Broon," this from Simms bit- 
 terly. 
 
 As for the facts, these old and young observ- 
 ers had noted them accurately enough. There 
 was many a scamper over the hills, both Mark 
 and Laura being superb riders. There was an 
 occasional ride in Mark's mere skeleton of a 
 carriage, which his steads whipped over the 
 dusty road as if they were winged creatures
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 But there were comparatively few visits at the 
 widow's house, just enough for propriety, before 
 or after a ride, and brief. 
 
 There were reasons for this. The good matron 
 had had abundant occasion for the strange doc- 
 tor's attendance for a month past, and his son 
 was his driver ; and, notwithstanding her courte- 
 ous hospitality to Mark, it was evident that the 
 mother was less cordial to him in the doctor's 
 presence. Yet Mark had never been told that 
 there was not a fair field for him if he could 
 win. 
 
 And then, too, by many a little artifice, trans- 
 parent enough if one cared to look into them, 
 though he did not, Broon found it all arranged 
 for him so that somehow he made but brief 
 calls at the house, and even then only rarely 
 now that he came to think of it, not more 
 than three times met the distinguished and 
 supernatural healer and his son when there. 
 
 " Reared as I have been, Miss Lane," Mark 
 had one day ventured to blurt out, "all such 
 superstitious pretense, in the holy name of 
 religion, is indescribably offensive.*' 
 
 " Offensive ! " 
 
 And she had reddened as the rose, first 
 looking high and mighty, then cast down with
 
 CAPTAIN BROON AND HIS SON. 
 
 53 
 
 pitiful distress. It was that same aspect of ter- 
 ror which he had first seen at the garden 
 gate, of which he often thought, without 
 coming to an explanation satisfactory to himself. 
 Her confusion was so great that he would not 
 pursue the inquiry, in his own vehicle as they 
 happened to be, as to why she so dreaded this 
 man. He only added: 
 
 "I am sure you, a healthy, high-spirited girl, 
 do not yield credence to any such sepulchral 
 and unearthly notions ! " 
 
 But the young man's eyes were bent, with 
 the search of a serious man pursuing things 
 serious in the make-up of his future happiness, 
 upon her lovely features. 
 
 Her self-control was wonderful. Even as he 
 watched her she had recovered herself. And the 
 face was so pure, the beaming smile so enchant- 
 ing, that he could not, would not suspect her 
 of a wizzard's creed. Besides, just at that mo- 
 ment, at a turn of the mountain road, a new 
 and noble vista of the landscape burst upon 
 them. 
 
 "You shall teach me what to believe, Mr. 
 Broon. Just now let me point out" and she 
 fell to describing the far mountain ranges. 
 
 So passed on the few short or long weeks,
 
 54 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 short or long as you, reader, or these lovers in 
 memory, measure them. The elder Broon came 
 up from the city at length, to inspect his son's 
 latest doings, though all the boy's plans had 
 been taken and pursued with " fatherly assent 
 from the first. Imagine this father and son 
 seated on the veranda of "Eaglecroft." 
 
 "Well, Mark, if you like the place, an old 
 sailor like me can make port here well enough 
 for the summer, once in a while." 
 
 " Father," answered the young gentleman turn- 
 ing about with a serious air, "you are getting 
 too old to stick so close to business as you do. 
 You shall spend the season here and enjoy 
 your age." 
 
 " Tut, tut, boy ! Age ? Old ? There isn't a rot- 
 ton timber in the craft yet. Ha, ha ! " 
 
 It was a laugh among ten thousand ; so deep, 
 from the heart, and so full of sunshine, meanwhile, 
 was the old bronzed face. Thirty years of the sea 
 could not be bleached out by ten years of the 
 shore, but the bronze was ever bright as new. 
 Even in repose the weather-beaten countenance 
 was only rugged kind. In laughter it was in, 
 describably radiant with good-will toward all on 
 the sea-girt globe. 
 
 Mark regarded his father in a sort of hopeless
 
 CAPTAIN BROON AND HIS SON. 
 
 55 
 
 silence for a moment. The boy's eyes almost 
 expressed worship, they were so tender, pathetic 
 and reverential. He had thought he saw the 
 scar upon his father's left cheek grow deeper of 
 late, as if he were at last amenable to fatigue 
 like ordinary mortals. He had mentioned it to his 
 step-mother, a fellow-worshipper with himself. 
 
 " Great God ! can my father indeed grow old 
 like other men. And must he die, some far 
 off day?" but not aloud. 
 
 Withdrawing his gaze, and confessing himself 
 helpless in further protest against the New 
 York store, Mark continued aloud : 
 
 "You approve my choice of site then. Why, 
 father, the landscape from this veranda must 
 remind you of the sea. These white mountains 
 are pretty big waves, however." 
 
 " Yes, yes, like the sea full enough for me, 
 boy. Give me to stop ashore of that other sea 
 now, till I'm done with this world and make 
 the Jasper sea." 
 
 They sat clown upon the steps of the piazza 
 in a way that men like better than easy chairs 
 when engaged in familiar and serious confer- 
 ence. The elder man plucked a stray spear of 
 herdsgrass and began to chew it. The younger 
 man put a match to his cigar, and began to 
 smoke.
 
 56 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 " You are going to quit the cigar, one of 
 these days, Mark," remarked the captain care- 
 fully. 
 
 "I beg your pardon, sir," was the quick re- 
 ply, as Mark tossed away his cigar. 
 
 " Tut, tut ! You needn't do that," said the 
 captain. " I am not going to continue nagging 
 you about your cigar. You are old enough to 
 judge for yourself. But it does seem to me 
 that all the young men are smokers, now-a-days. 
 In all my voyages I never learned it." 
 
 "So I have heard you say, sir. I would not 
 offend you ; I am not fully persuaded in my 
 own mind about this trifle. It's not an easy 
 thing to conquer " 
 
 " Not easy for a boy who never had any 
 experience in breaking off bad habits, my son. 
 Thank God, it is the only evil habit I ever 
 knew in you. Well, well, let's not talk of it. 
 What a charming view this is ! " 
 
 It was upon one of the lower spurs of Mt. 
 Washington. Here, not by the sea, not by the 
 Hudson, had Mark Broon decided to build his 
 summer palace. Far from palace was the new 
 house as yet, though it was habitable and made 
 ready as best it could be for the entertain- 
 ment of a happy party of down-country friends 
 now supposed to be on the way hither.
 
 CAPTAIN BROON AND HIS SON. 
 
 57 
 
 Both gentlemen lapsed into silence in this 
 imposing presence of nature. The morning sun 
 rode higher up the eastern sky fresh from his 
 bath far down the coast of Maine. The advanc- 
 ing day was every moment changing the stern 
 visage of Mt. Kearsarge, by deepening or eras- 
 ing the great wrinkles in the mountainous 
 cheeks. In the distance a sheen of silver 
 showed the ocean by Portsmouth harbor, eighty 
 miles away as the crow flies. The intermediate 
 landscape seemed to have no hills, no undulating 
 line, but to be a boundless prairie in broken 
 New England. The patchwork of forest and 
 farm, the variety of color afforded by dark hem- 
 locks and lighter maples, by fields mown and 
 pastures sun-bleached, by oat stubble and white 
 buckwheat, and this patchwork, spread by un- 
 seen hands so far and wide, was an endless 
 study. The eye was fascinated by attempts to 
 trace silver ribbons which were woven and 
 plaited into the general textile, with brilliant 
 effect. Whence came that particular water ? Is 
 it the Merrimack ? And that mirror yonder, so 
 turned towards these two observers that its 
 sheen fairly flecked and dazzled them, after the 
 manner of mischievous school-boys with a hand- 
 glass, through thirty miles of distance.
 
 58 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 The shadow of passing clouds which camped 
 over the beetling crags above them, and then 
 sailed out and on to intercept the sun here and 
 there over the light-flooded plains; the sweep of 
 a mare's tail of storm-cloud far across the har- 
 vest fields of Vermont, and actually, by means of 
 a glass which the good captain whipped out, 
 the hurry of hay-makers in front of the rain ; 
 the white dust puffs that marked the ashen 
 highways, and the passing of unseen vehicles 
 along the umbragious sides of the mountain; all 
 these they saw, and in a quiet way each 
 pointed out from time to time some new dis- 
 covery. 
 
 "I say, bub," and the Captain's great crooked 
 forefinger indicated the direction, "I can hear, 
 every now and then, the music of the mowing 
 machines, I do believe, from the Connecticut 
 meadows." 
 
 "Certainly, father. It is the wind which brings 
 it. I see," pulling out his watch, "that it is 
 about time for the up trains over these two 
 railroads. I have frequently heard the long, low 
 rumble of the passing cars more than fifteen 
 miles away." 
 
 "Yes," said Captain Broon, "there she puffs, 
 on the Passumpsic road. It looks like a snake,
 
 CAPTAIN BROON AND HIS SON. 59 
 
 Ah, boy, how small a thing is a man! In yon- 
 der train are, now, let us suppose, several hun- 
 dred gay and happy beings ; yet you cannot see 
 a face. Ants are a good comparison. Only God 
 is great, Mark, only God ! How often I have 
 thought of this at sea, a ship, hull down, stag- 
 gering on before my vision." 
 
 The sincere old man ran on in this strain of 
 noble thought. He was so pure a soul that his 
 boy might have seen his every bosom thought 
 and never known a shock to filial reverence. 
 It was by such unbosomings of a rare, manly 
 nature that he had contributed more than is 
 common, in this world of strangers, to fashion 
 the boy's character. Mark never disturbed the 
 flow of this sort of vocal meditation from his 
 sire's heart. He simply sat and listened, and 
 took every word for law and gospel ; which 
 indeed it was, measured by even the Book of 
 the changeless law and the priceless gospel. 
 
 " I like this, Mark. Do you know, boy, in 
 the presence of great Nature I feel myself a 
 man again ! An old sailor is at odds among 
 crowds of men, sharp business men, on shore. 
 In New York, for instance, they run round me. 
 They are too quick for me, and get the advan- 
 tage of me. I have to hold tight to the salt
 
 60 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 money, or they would soon make you a beggar, 
 Mark. Ah, a sailor only feels himself a man 
 when on the deep ! But I'm too old now. Yet 
 here I have the same feelings as at sea. 
 Winds, storms, clouds, waves, mountains ! These 
 are bluff, honest foes. A true man can face 
 them and conquer. But the mean, small tricks 
 of modern trade, and the sharpers who are 
 abroad on shore, the storm of lies My son, I 
 don't know, sometimes, whether I want you to 
 go into business at all. You'll have enough 
 with my salt money. But you must not be idle, 
 not be idle." And he chewed the grass spear 
 between his lips and grew silent. 
 
 "I do not wish to be idle, father. I am not 
 regardless of all your wishes that I should em- 
 ploy myself in some way to benefit mankind." 
 
 "True, boy. I know your heart. But now 
 all that will depend not a little on the character 
 of your proposed wife, this beautiful girl, now, 
 that you have invited up here." 
 
 Mark Broon started. He tossed the stick that 
 he had been whittling over the cliff at their 
 feet, clasped his hands hard around his knees, 
 and bent his eyes on the tree-tops, which swept 
 away below the balcony in unbroken masses of 
 green so far. Yonder rolled the train. His car
 
 CAPTAIN BROON AND HIS SON. 6 1 
 
 riage had gone down the mountains to meet the 
 party of visitors. There was nothing to do but 
 wait. 
 
 "You see, Mark, in my sober judgment, you 
 lack nothing but a good wife for the making of 
 a first-class man. Your timbers are all sound 
 and new. Your cargo is good, fine education, 
 good common sense, a generous heart, and 
 enough in the locker, and comin' to you, to 
 keep in good repairs for a long voyage. I 
 believe you sail by the old chart. Keep to God's 
 Book, boy. I'm passenger now, unless you call 
 me the shipper. But the wife is the all-impor- 
 tant thing now. She's very fine looking; I've 
 only seen her once or twice. But has she real 
 good sober sense ? I like a matter-of-fact girl. 
 I like a June temper, not April. I like a re- 
 ligious girl,, but not one who is superstitious 
 and given to every wind that blows, Mark, 
 Why, what ails the boy ? Of course it isn't what 
 I like altogether that is to govern you. That's 
 my way of advisin' you and thinkin' aloud. 
 Art sick?" 
 
 The knit brows and pained looks which 
 Mark bent on his father were such as might 
 well betoken physical suffering ; but physical it 
 was not. Truth was, Mark Broon was keeping
 
 62 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 his first secret from his good old sire. He had 
 never lisped of the strange domination by Dr. 
 Smiles, under which Laura Lane and her mother 
 labored. He had one day started to do so, when 
 his father's honest, matter-of-fact face forbade 
 him, as peremptorily as if the firm lips had 
 said, " God forbid, boy ! The devil himself is in 
 that sort of thing ! Say good-bye and be done 
 with crazy folk." The reader can judge some- 
 thing of Mark's present distress as his father 
 went on again, getting to his feet before him 
 and standing braced, sailor fashion, legs apart. 
 
 "Why, Mark, you see I can read your very 
 soul, such friends we are. I shall love whom 
 you love. She's passing beautiful, and will always 
 look well alongside. I think she has a kind, 
 good heart, for she is friendly even to the ser- 
 vants, I saw. You say she sails by our chart 
 or 'tends the Congregational, which is all the 
 same as Methodist now-a-days. I guess she's 
 shipshape all round. I know she is there ! 
 Come, cheer up, boy. You only want to make 
 sure that the girl is steady on her tack ; that 
 she don't sheer off and lose her head. Why, 
 Mark, I like a woman to sort of swear by my 
 word, every time, thick weather or fair, to be- 
 lieve in me and me alone. Then, heaven wit-
 
 CAPTAIN BROON AND HIS SON. 63 
 
 ness, a man can just worship such a woman ! " 
 The old man's face caught the shadow of a 
 passing cloud, and his fine mouth trembled as 
 he continued, " My first wife, your mother, 
 boy" 
 
 "Don't, father," put in Mark. 
 
 " Well, I know," attributing Mark's protest to 
 pathetic recollections of the dead. " But, my 
 son, you are too much reefed to keep alongside 
 to-day, though I don't just see why, so we'll drop 
 it, and go in to see about these new servants and 
 the dinner. We want our old friends, the Hardys, 
 to eat hearty, and give the ship a good name." 
 
 As the two men strode along the wide ve- 
 randa, on their left the panorama of the wide, 
 wide world, on their right, the low, broad win- 
 dows, opening into the spacious drawing-room 
 and suit of apartments beyond, the elder man's 
 thoughts were divided between solicitude about 
 workmen, upholsterers and servants, and the graver 
 theme of the morning's converse. This of itself 
 was an evidence that the latter subject did not 
 worry him ; for with benignant content he inter- 
 ested himself in trifling comments upon this and 
 that article of furniture, or proposed amendations 
 of the building plans. When is a man with a 
 a clear conscience happier than on a vacation
 
 64 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 day, giving serious attention to the small affairs 
 of his house, of play or playthings ? 
 
 " I suppose now," remarked the captain, paus- 
 ing before the wonderful vista revealed through 
 the library windows, "that most of these shrewd 
 landsmen would say I'd better set my boy to 
 makin' more money in some business, than to 
 humor his 'sthetic fancies, just out of college " 
 
 " By making him as happy as man can be on 
 earth, pa?" 
 
 It was the plain, gentle wife who spoke, as 
 she drew near from her bustling survey of the 
 morning's house-keeping affairs. She was a 
 much younger lady than the captain's oft-men- 
 tioned "first wife" would have been had she 
 lived to walk beside him till now ; but it was 
 evident at a glance that nothing but love was 
 ever known between these three. 
 
 Mark kissed her good morning with the first 
 smile he had worn for the last hour. 
 
 "Well, Mary," the captain began in reply, 
 putting his stout arm around her, "it is no 
 secret between us that Mark will have money 
 enough. He will be rich. What is the sense, 
 before Heaven, in settin' the boy to makin' 
 more money for his life-work ? Can anybody 
 explain why I should urge him into business to
 
 CAPTAIN BROON AND HIS SON. 65 
 
 get richer ? I know that's the fashion. These 
 money-grubbers want their sons to succeed and 
 do something in the world; and by that they 
 mean money-grubbin' like their own. Why, 
 Mark, I wouldn't do it ! Sail for another port 
 and give other poor Jacks a chance. Hey ? " 
 And again the glorious laugh which shook the 
 man and shook the floor. 
 
 It was purely a safety-valve laugh, provoked 
 oy no joke, but letting off the surcharged good 
 cheer and good-will of this great heart. 
 
 "Another port it shall be, father," responded 
 Mark, his face lighting up a little, " only we 
 can't quite make out where-away on the chart, 
 as you would say, and decide in a general sort 
 of way that I am not going to live for money- 
 making." 
 
 "Right! Settle it!" roared the captain. 
 
 "But while caring for my own, I will dili- 
 gently seek to use it for the welfare of my 
 kind, and find happiness and employment in 
 such seeking." 
 
 " Right ! Though you want to figure that 
 down a little more to a point," again roared 
 the good captain. 
 
 "Exactly, father. That's it. It is easy enough 
 to say I'll avoid sordid money-getting being
 
 06 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME, 
 
 rich enough " this with a sly twinkle of the 
 eye towards the sensible Mrs. Broon, " but 
 just how or where to work best and sensibly 
 for the good of humanity is not so easy to 
 say." 
 
 " Stay ! " quickly exclaimed the bright little 
 lady of the trio. " I know you two men like 
 a book. I'll tell you just what kind of a man 
 you are to be, Mark Broon. You are to join 
 elegant leisure with philanthropy. You are to 
 entertain scholars, artists, writers, clergymen, and 
 all that like, except actors and actresses, whom 
 your father abominates." 
 
 " Right, shipmate," said the captain, in dead 
 earnest. 
 
 "You are to adorn your life with every good 
 and beautiful thing that money can buy, except 
 that you will not amble in Vanity Fair." 
 
 " Right, shipmate ! Confound the fashiona- 
 bles ! " 
 
 "You are to be no idler, but very busy with 
 noble errands. If you copy pa" she always 
 gave the captain this quaint title, " you will 
 spend half your time going to cheer up some 
 sick friend, helping some poor soul whom 
 nobody else would help, and doing it in a way 
 that nobody else would think of. You will be
 
 CAPTAIN BROON AND HIS SON, 6; 
 
 pursuing and scotching some popular error ; run- 
 ning a tilt with some one of the thousand 
 abuses and wrongs that afflict mankind." 
 
 " Right all the while ! " growled the captain, 
 all radiant with laughter ready to break out. 
 " Open their eyes ! Save any fellow you can 
 from being victimized by sharpers and adventur- 
 ers ! Fight for the under dog all the way 
 through life!" 
 
 " And this good man," the lady continued, 
 " expects you to be very ingenious in inventing 
 plans of philanthropy. Now all this is to be 
 because pa thinks commercial and society life 
 among the rich to-day are, for the most part, 
 sordid, selfish, frivolous. You are to show what a 
 high-minded Christian rich man can be, do and 
 enjoy in the world." 
 
 " Right to a logarithm ! " This the captain. 
 
 "And I predict," she concluded, releasing her* 
 self with a mischievous smile, "that our dear 
 boy will not find it easy to live so very differ- 
 ently from others of his class. Excuse me ; I 
 hear the coach-horn just below the cliffs." And 
 she broke off her half-serious banter with a 
 laugh, and darted away. 
 
 The captain, with a puzzled look on his smil- 
 ing face, which deepened into an aspect of
 
 68 
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 gravity, as if he knew how true that parting 
 shot was, turned away, saying: 
 
 "I'll go down to see about the gravelling, 
 Mark. We want room enough for a carriage to 
 wear round without tipping over." 
 
 As Mark was left alone he almost groaned 
 aloud. He recognized in the Lane household, 
 under the domination of Dr. Smiles, a problem 
 for a knight, directly in his own path. 
 
 "My father would not have the patience of 
 a moment with such strange people. Smiles and 
 my father are as darkness and light to each 
 other. And the idea that I should entertain a 
 fancy for a lady who would exchange two words 
 with such a pretender, would be to him in- 
 tolerable ! But does she ? No ; I candidly judge 
 no. It is all her mother's affair." 
 
 He walked up and down the veranda many 
 times, and more than once exclaimed aloud : 
 
 "It is all her mother's infatuation!" 
 
 Or, again, " No, of course I couldn't marry 
 any but a Christian woman. Not a heathen in 
 this Christian age ! A believer in necromancy ! 
 A believer in nothing ! " 
 
 Or, again, with a look of a fine dreamer, yet 
 sensible, on his upturned face, "To live wisely 
 and well with a prayer! ess wife ? I am not so
 
 CAPTAIN BROON AND HIS SON. 69 
 
 silly as to attempt it. Yet, said she not that 1 
 should teach her what to believe? Oh, the ma- 
 jestic creature, what a pupil ! I cannot wonder 
 at these fungus growths of misbeliefs in a re- 
 gion of such grotesque fears and lethargic 
 
 churches. When she is in S , for of course 
 
 she visits there, she is in a healthier atmos- 
 phere, I trust. I wonder what Mayor Hardy's 
 religious convictions are. But they cannot be 
 anything akin to the Smiles folly ; for my father 
 would not have acknowledged such a man as an 
 acquaintance, much less an old friend. He would 
 have protested against my inviting the Hardys 
 up here. Said they were once shipmates and 
 old skipper captains together. Fortunate, was it 
 not?" 
 
 When, observing by his watch that he had lit- 
 tle time to dress for receiving his friends, he 
 stepped rather more cheerfully down the hall and 
 sought his room. 
 
 The reader may judge of the resolute pur- 
 pose which Mark Broon was decided on, regard- 
 ing Laura Lane, by the fact that he had car- 
 ried the arrangement of this visit to his new 
 house for a week with no little trouble. 
 
 He had planned his father's visit. His step- 
 mother was to have passed the summer at the
 
 ; A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 new mansion, as the scheme was formed long 
 ago. But how to get Laura and her mother 
 there for guests ? Fortunately, as he had said, 
 he discovered his father's acquaintance with 
 Mayor Hardy, Laura's uncle. Old Capt. Broon 
 fell readily enough into the plan ; it would be 
 perfectly proper, as an assistance in social inves- 
 tigation concerning his son's possible future 
 wife. The mayor and his family were even now 
 on the approaching train. 
 
 Mark's coachman was to drive down to the 
 valley farm in the early morning for the widow 
 Lane and her daughter Laura. 
 
 " Yes ? " Laura had laughingly questioned with 
 a coy movement of the shapely head, and a hes- 
 itating glance, when Mark had proposed the 
 visit a week before. "And is it to be a real 
 visit, with certain necessary trunks and fix- 
 ings ? " 
 
 " Just the same, " Mark had answered, " as if 
 our dwellings were a thousand miles apart." He 
 spoke gravely ; his serious demeanor contrasted 
 singularly with her sunny air. 
 
 " You are eccentric. How grave you are 
 about this! I don't like you to be odd. Mamma 
 is is so unnatural, so unearthly much of her 
 time," and she gave a little shudder as her face 
 grew sedate, "that I like you to be natural."
 
 CAPTAIN BROON AND HIS SON. 71 
 
 " A thousand pardons ! " he exclaimed, looking 
 up brightly. "Now this visit is natural enough, 
 when you come to look at it," and he began 
 to toy with the handle of her sunshade as they 
 stood there under the protection of the maple 
 at her gate. "Your relatives turn out to be inti- 
 mate friends of ours. My father, in his hearty- 
 way, has invited them up here. Your cousin 
 Madge, their daughter, is with them " 
 
 " She is a real rogue, and so jolly ! " 
 
 "And they always come to the mountains 
 about this season," he insisted on pursuing. 
 
 "I dare not tell you, Mr. Broon, what she 
 said about you," exclaimed Laura, knowing well 
 the art of prolonging the conversation. 
 
 But Mark kept to his argument. 
 
 "You must remember that my house-warming 
 does not seem to take well among my curious 
 neighbors. They will not let me get very near 
 them ; and this home party is to do in its 
 stead." 
 
 " She said, " persisted the charming obstruc- 
 tionist, " that she half mistrusted your invitation. 
 A sort of convenience, their presence." 
 
 " I protest that it is not ! Father often has 
 Mr. Hardy over to dine in New York." 
 
 " But still your father does want to get ac
 
 7 2 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 quainted with that is, I mean he wants to see 
 more " and she tried to disengage the sun- 
 shade from his hand. Her great eyes almost 
 challenged him for a moment. 
 
 " Of you ? Why, yes," Broon answered frankly. 
 " But you will not, you of all persons I say, 
 think the less of me for my filial respect. 
 And, on the other hand, you will meet my 
 father. Mrs. Broon, my step-mother, has returned 
 your call." 
 
 " Yes, yes," responded the girl. " Why, cer- 
 tainly it is all right." And she surrendered the 
 sunshade handle to his reaching hand heartily.
 
 A SHOCKING LIE. 73 
 
 IV. 
 
 A SHOCKING LIE. 
 
 44 TT>EALLY, Laura," sighed Mrs. Lane Ian 
 -*-^- guidly, "you must send word up to 
 well, address it to your uncle Hardy, no, tele 
 graph up to Mr. Broon himself ; he has a pri 
 vate wire from the village. Say that I am too 
 much indisposed to go to Eaglecroft this after- 
 noon." 
 
 The lady was reclining in a huge rocker 
 which occupied a good half of the little front 
 porch, or "stoop," of her dwelling. She was 
 already dressed for the visit, except her bonnet. 
 
 Laura was ready, even to her hat and gloves. 
 The two trunks were packed and waiting for the 
 farm wagon which should take them, "after the 
 men had finished cultivating the corn." All day 
 long Laura had been half -expecting just this 
 word from t her mother's lips ; expecting it at 
 that morning's breakfast table, and it almost 
 came, but not quite ; expecting it during the 
 forenoon, as the workman in charge came to the
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 widow for his week's orders, and her mother 
 had said : 
 
 " How can <you get on, haying almost here, 
 without me?" 
 
 But the farmer, catching a glance from Laura, 
 had managed to smooth over that objection. 
 Laura had expected her mother's change of 
 mind as they packed up, and had the more 
 swiftly performed that duty largely herself. She 
 expected a retreat as they began to dress, and 
 her tongue ran so glibly on every conceivable 
 subject, by way of occupying the maternal mind, 
 and diverting it, that by the time the dressing 
 was completed, the girl had exhausted all her 
 ingenuity, and the last diverting theme, namely, 
 whether it were best to sell certain railway 
 bonds, which the family lawyer regarded with 
 suspicion. The bond question had availed, how- 
 ever, being a knotty one, and the widow was 
 dressed at last, thanks to the bonds. 
 
 "Why, at this late moment?" exclaimed Laura, 
 ready to cry with vexation and the heat. "The 
 carriage will be here shortly. And, mamma 
 dear, because I chanced to mention how busy 
 all our men were and our horses, Mr. Broon 
 so kindly offered to send his team for us. We 
 cannot return the vehicle empty."
 
 A SHOCKING LIE. 
 
 75 
 
 Laura was still aglow with the exertion and 
 bustling about ; she was vexed, impatient, and 
 generally in that discommoded state into which 
 getting dressed under difficulties on a hot day 
 plunges the sweetest-tempered woman. And she 
 was, moreover, fully aware how hopeless was 
 every endeavor to change her mother's mind. 
 Yet she seated herself quietly, confronting the 
 widow, and tried to smile with filial obedience, 
 as she pinched the finger tips of her unbuttoned 
 glove. 
 
 "I know, daughter," resumed Mrs. Lane. "Mr. 
 Broon has been very kind. We will go to-mor- 
 row or some day this week. The heat is too 
 severe on me. Why, love, here it is the last 
 week in June ; our very hottest weather, often, 
 in the whole season ! And, besides, I must, 
 before I go, see Dr. Smiles once more. He 
 was here last night, you remember, and he ad- 
 vised me, almost, against going up into the cool 
 winds and nights of that mountain top. He is 
 to leave the village himself to-morrow ; his family 
 are, possibly, to come up and stay at the 
 Notch. He wished me to go down there, for 
 a little change." 
 
 She looked hard at her daughter as she 
 Bpoke. All day long the elder lady had been
 
 76 A WEDDING IN WAR-TitiE. 
 
 trying to get up the courage to make this com- 
 munication. It came at last desperately. 
 
 "Mamma Lane!" exclaimed Laura, with face 
 wreathed in unreal smiles, but with tones really 
 grave, " and your own brother a guest and 
 friend up there? With auntie and Madge at 
 Eaglecroft, and you and I, for of course I 
 must go where you do down at one of the 
 Notch hotels, the world would indeed then say 
 that we were gone crazy, quite! And, mamma, 
 you know already how cordially uncle Phil dis 
 likes this physician. You remember how last 
 winter, down at S , he almost forbade " 
 
 "Yes, yes, I know," was the indolent yet not 
 altogether unalarmed reply. "We will go to-mor- 
 row. Send word that it shall be to-morrow, 
 dear child. In fact, I was to send a messenger 
 to the dear doctor if we did leave our house 
 to-day; otherwise he was to call after tea. I 
 have sent no word." 
 
 Laura stood for a moment apart, with her 
 back to her mother, and drumming on the big 
 fluted column that supported the stoop, her foot 
 patting the floor, quite often the manner of any 
 only and spoiled child. Then she surveyed her- 
 self ruefully, with many a feminine idea con- 
 cerning the new travelling suit, which, like all
 
 A SHOCKING LIE, 77 
 
 her dresses, was partly her own work, and 
 partly the product of Cousin Madge Hardy's city 
 dressmaker, generally planned during the winter's 
 visit. 
 
 Disappointment is a youthful experience ; our 
 maturity and our age know little of its keenness. 
 Youth and a trifle on which the heart was 
 set and disappointed, that is the bitterness. We 
 once lamented a holiday adjourned more than in 
 after years our ship that never came to land. 
 And then, too, life was so indescribably dull of 
 late to Laura here on the farm. She often 
 asked herself why, for it had not seemed so a 
 year ago. But worst of all, what would Mark 
 Broon think of them now ? How rude, actually 
 uncivil we are. Or, we can only save ourselves 
 by assigning the real reason, mamma's subservi- 
 ance to this dreadful man ; which will seem 
 worse to the Broons than incivility. I will give 
 no reason ! No, no ; that will never do, even for 
 women, who may often do a thing because they 
 wish to ; for uncle Phil would claim a kinsman's 
 right to be angry. I must say just why. This 
 in her thought ; not for her mother's ears of 
 course. 
 
 1 'hen she turned sharply round and began, as she 
 kissed her mother and stroked her gray hairs :
 
 7 S A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 "Mamma dear, you know full well that I shall 
 be good, and give up cheerfully. You are all I 
 have to care for in the world. I often say that 
 to myself. I could die for you, mamma. I will 
 cheerfully adjourn the visit till to-morrow. I am 
 sure I'm not very good ; but I will be faith- 
 ful to my mother ! " 
 
 This was getting to be serious ; evidently a 
 prelude to something a long time intended to 
 be said. The girl was still glowing. The lis- 
 tener was gazing in astonished expectancy. 
 
 " But, mamma," Laura resumed fervently, "why 
 cannot we free ourselves from this curious doc- 
 tor and his hateful influence over us ? To be 
 sure, he can make a table tip, but what relig- 
 ion is there in that? He can produce his spirit 
 rappings, but, while I can't explain them, I'm sure 
 there is no power of a good and holy God in 
 such mean tokens. God has spoken with thun- 
 ders and revealed himself in the lightning, but 
 I cannot believe he communicates with us in 
 these silly and yet fearful knockings ! Oh, I wish 
 I believed as other people do ; I mean, as the 
 good clergyman and respectable people, and uncle 
 Phil and Madge and auntie and and Mark 
 Broon do ! " 
 
 "My dear child," sighed the mother, "I almost
 
 A SHOCKING LIE. 
 
 79 
 
 wish we did too. But in any event, you cannot 
 deny that the doctor works some remarkable cures 
 by spiritual influences. See! there they come 
 now." 
 
 At this moment the doctor's carriage whirled 
 up the little ascent just below the house and 
 made straight on, as if to pass, when, as if the 
 doctor had casually caught sight of the two 
 ladies, the horses were pulled up in sudden 
 halt. The doctor alighted in the dust of the 
 road, to keep up the seeming of an unexpected 
 visit, and he picked his way to the gate, as his 
 son turned slowly in towards the post. 
 
 ''Good evening, ladies," said he. "What a 
 glorious hour ! " 
 
 The sunbeams were falling across the earth in 
 great golden bars of dust, and evening damps 
 made truly glorious by his descending rays. 
 
 "You see I waited for you," said the widow 
 smiling. 
 
 Laura had flown away to dispatch the inimi- 
 table message to the Broons ; not by telegraph, 
 but by horse, which would intercept and turn 
 back the carriage. 
 
 "Oh, she has only a note to write," explained 
 Mrs. Lane, referring to the vanishing Laura. 
 
 "You did right, did right." said the healer,
 
 80 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 bowing in a lordly way, and seizing the patient's 
 hand without ceremony. "High, very high, your 
 temperature ! " Then with a quick and sliding 
 grasp at her wrist, " Very quick ! one hundred ! 
 Come straight in ! " 
 
 His iron grasp left her no discretion, had she 
 not been instantly and strangely obedient to his 
 command. She was led like a child into the 
 library that opened off the hall. She was com- 
 pelled into a great arm-chair, a chair which she 
 had kept in its place of honor, and never, till 
 this shrewd necromancer had induced her, had 
 she occupied that chair since her good man 
 died. With what superstitious fears had she first 
 sunk into it, all limp and shaking, when the 
 healer had so commanded ? Even now to sit 
 there was to be subjugated, instantly, by a mys- 
 tic entrancement. 
 
 " Thus again enthroned for his visit ! " ex- 
 claimed the doctor, as he stood at full height 
 before the widow, and gazed reverently over his 
 left shoulder at a life-sized crayon of the de- 
 parted Lane, above the mantle. Then clasping 
 hands before the portrait he addressed an invoca- 
 tion to it, saying, "Come, thou spirit departed! 
 Thine is the power to heal her whom thou yet 
 ownest as thy fond wife; mine it is to lift the
 
 A SHOCKING LIE. 8 1 
 
 latch, as it were, for thy return, no more." 
 And much more, delivered in a peculiar mixture 
 of grandiloquence and meekness hard to de- 
 scribe. 
 
 A woman of strong affections, to whom the 
 dead man had been almost an idol, to whom 
 there had been no other world than this world 
 till her idol faded from it, and she stood turned 
 to stone, asking of the sky and clouds and Book, 
 "Whither." How she had wept and read that 
 book which tells of the other world ! She, who 
 had scarcely ever thought to turn its pages 
 before. And, as is not unusual under such cir- 
 cumstances, to read and seek a too liberal mean- 
 ing in its fifteenth chapter of First Corinthians, 
 and its " Revelation" almost drove her mad. 
 She read it to follow a man, and not her God. 
 What a terrible five years had she passed ! The 
 farm, whose praises were in all mouths? Why, 
 when she began to breathe and live again, after 
 that period of stony madness, it was the farm 
 alone that saved her from self-destruction. To 
 do with it, their only paradise, as he had 
 planned to do ; to execute and achieve each 
 proud hope and dream of his ; to see him in 
 every field, on every hill-side, and to accus- 
 tom herself to the thought that he saw her,
 
 82 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 was indeed ever watching her. She used to 
 talk with him, as she thought, when alone. She 
 actually adored him in her evening prayers. If 
 she mentioned the name of God, it was only 
 because she felt that it might somehow be nec- 
 essary for her audience with her dead one. She 
 believed now in heaven ; but it was a heaven of 
 her own furnishing, as truly as her dwelling was. 
 It might have contained a Ruler, but Him she 
 never saw as a Christian sees Him. She had 
 abandoned the reading of those scriptures which 
 so confused her complaining heart. She accused 
 the volume which tells us more how to live 
 in this world than it gratifies a curiosity 
 about the next. She had taken to reading the 
 many strange books which stocked her husband's 
 well filled library; at first more because he had 
 thumbed and marked them than because she 
 could understand them, but after a little, since 
 she was of a bright mind it should be said, 
 becoming curious, interested, speculative, and 
 credulous of their hard incredulities. I tell you 
 all this, reader, that you may the better under- 
 stand how she so readily became a victim to 
 this conjurer of "familiar spirits." 
 
 Smiles had now seated himself with eyes closed 
 and arms folded. The twilight shadows began
 
 A SHOCKING LIE. 83 
 
 to thicken in the room and the mystic whispers 
 of leaves in the evening breeze came through 
 the window. All was expectancy. The unearthly 
 visitor would enter, doubtless, at any moment. 
 The lady had surrendered herself completely to 
 the clear anticipation. Imagination, that immeas- 
 urably strong and to us all at best an un- 
 known faculty, held her in complete and willing 
 thrall. If she heard the younger Smiles' remark 
 to Laura in the next room, whither he had fol- 
 lowed, her, "Will you allow me to open the piano? 
 it is long since I have heard your divine voice," 
 in Mrs. Lane's ears it was as an echo from an- 
 other world. 
 
 If she heard Laura's reply, "I cannot think 
 of disturbing mamma with music on occasion 
 of your father's professional services with her," 
 this, too, was as unreal as voices in a dream. 
 Poor soul, she was all eyes and ears for her spec- 
 tral visitor ! .She has yielded herself to this 
 one figment of her own brain till she would not 
 have regarded it had a straying vagabond from 
 the highway entered and laid thieving hands on 
 anything in the room. Hence, when the doctor 
 at length remarked, " He comes ! Hark ! His 
 rap ! " the lady, with a sudden spring, exclaimed, 
 " Yes, I hear ! It is he. He comes 1 " and from
 
 84 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 her chair she watched IT, as she leaned forward, 
 reaching out pathetic welcome with her trembling 
 hands. 
 
 IT might have been the creation of the shad- 
 ows that were flung across the moon-flecked lawns 
 and in at the wide old doors ; shadows that were 
 fitful because of passing clouds, which pushed 
 their silver heads up over the trees presaging 
 summer thunder later in the night. IT might 
 have been the branching vines that swayed and 
 beckoned like so many arms outstretched and 
 which tossed their counterparts upon the pretty 
 papered walls. IT undoubtedly was some one of 
 these mere incidents of peaceful twilight, to 
 healthy minds like charms unspeakable ; to hers 
 the tokens of the supernatural, which furnished 
 her visitor his expedients on this occasion. There 
 was always some slight external expedients nec- 
 essary to the doctor ; though his greatest helper 
 was the patient's own diseased imagination. He 
 preferred evening consultations ; the nerves are 
 more excitable when weary at the day's close. 
 He generally came here about twilight. In his 
 
 own office at S he had many appliances of 
 
 darkened rooms, a throne for himself, etc. At the 
 hotel his ingenuity was put to severe test. But 
 your deceiver is always ingenious ; his inventive
 
 A SHOCKING LIE. 8S 
 
 power should have tempted him to legitimate uses 
 and a legitimate livelihood. They might have pro- 
 duced a telephone. Remember, moreover, that 
 even the sick are ready to be deceived. 
 
 And now there came to this willing victim of 
 her maddening and unsanctified bereavement vi- 
 sions as fantastic as those of opiate dreams. 
 They emerged to her, at the wand-like motions 
 of this man's finger, out of the gloom. 
 
 A bust of Shakespeare, over the book-cases, 
 moved its eyes to her ! An antique shield on 
 the wall palpitated like the moving breast of a 
 breathing creature. She saw blood stains on the 
 tips of the spears which were crossed behind the 
 shield. 
 
 The room suddenly grew awful in a brilliant 
 light, no doubt, for she withdrew her out- 
 stretched hands for an instant to shade her eyes. 
 Then, as quick a c.hange, no doubt to inky 
 darkness, for she groped and felt about with 
 waving hands. 
 
 A pile of engravings in the corner became a 
 hundred portraits ; of her husband in different 
 postures ; of her only other child, a son lost in 
 his fair babyhood : of her own parents and other 
 kin, gone into the Unseen, years ago. " Com- 
 panion spirits, " softly whispered Smiles at a ven- 
 ture, shrewdly guessing at her delirium.
 
 86 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 "Yes, yes," sighed the victim. 
 At which confirmation of his sharp conjecture, 
 her visitor took up the tale of their biographies; 
 he dealt in such generalities as could not be 
 far amiss of the lives of parents, husband, child 
 and friend. 
 
 She thought she saw that huge, old fashioned 
 center - table, relic of the Mayflower days and 
 heirloom, stand poised upon one of its claw- 
 carved legs, and stretching out another leg, stalk 
 like a great fowl across the library ! All its mov- 
 able burdens rode in safety ! The pen did not 
 fall from the inkstand's side. The ink was un- 
 spilled ; and she was conscious of no housekeep- 
 er's solicitude for the scarlet coverlet ! I have 
 heard her tell these things, years away. Even yet 
 she shudders at the memory ; and, as she halts 
 in the narrative, turns to her auditors with : 
 
 " Explain it ; can you ? 
 
 " It was all in your mind. Or, may be it is 
 not yet explained scientifically ; but it will yet be. 
 After all, what religion was there in that ? " 
 
 "True enough. And yet " 
 
 But you are supposed to be in that room, a 
 spectator, my reader, years ago. 
 
 " Are we administering the proper medicines ? " 
 asked the doctor. "If so, please rap twice."
 
 A SHOCKING LIE. 87 
 
 Did you not hear the double knock? 
 
 " Is my great work worthy of all encourage, 
 ment and effort? If so, give the triple token." 
 
 Did you not hear the three sharp signals ? 
 
 " Will you guide my hand in writing a mes- 
 sage ? " 
 
 Smiles whipped out a tablet and stretched his 
 limp, quiescent hand upon the table. 
 
 For a long time there was no response. This 
 ilence, this waiting, this eager expectation 
 of a voice from that voiceless world ! This con- 
 centration of strained faculties upon unearthly 
 and unnatural hopes ! Every tick of the great 
 clock in the hall was like a hammer stroke. 
 Plow heavy is the footfall of Time when one 
 gives his whole hearing thereto. One ceases to 
 wonder that such footsteps shake down the hills 
 and grind proud temples to dust. A year is 
 nothing. We are too finite to appreciate it. It 
 is an hour, here and there in life, that reveals 
 to us what Time is. It is occasional heavy and 
 slow-stepping moments that overwhelm us ; they 
 are weightier than years. 
 
 All of which' this cold philosopher knew well. 
 He waited by the moment. The great clock was 
 now holding the whole house in awe. At least there 
 no more sound from the dining-room beyond,
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 where Erastus and Laura sat, than from the 
 library. 
 
 'At last this old conjurer broke the spell by 
 saying : 
 
 "It moves me; I write." 
 
 Oh, it was all vulgar enough. The old and 
 earliest paraphernalia and methods of a deception 
 which, no doubt, in later years, has learned newer 
 and more brilliant methods. But it was, and is 
 ever, the same old lie. I am describing it as it 
 was seen twenty years ago in New England 
 Visions, table-tippings, rappings, and "coramuni 
 cations from the spirit world." And it "de 
 ceived many," even as the Christ had mourn 
 fully foretold it should "in later and perilous 
 times." 
 
 The next step was, of course, to call in his 
 son and her daughter if he could rely on the 
 young lady's quiet assent as a witness and unpro- 
 testing, read the handwriting and pronounce this 
 day's work done. The doctor's long forefinger 
 now pointed to the room where the young peo- 
 ple sat. His lips did not move ; his extended 
 arm kept its sustained gesture. A moment 
 seemed to the staring widow an hour, a year. 
 an age. She grew amazed that mortal flesh 
 could so long support the weight of an extended 
 arm.
 
 A SHOCKING LIE. 
 
 " Oh, spare the child, doctor ! " The widow 
 gasped it. 
 
 She understood the finger. But she had grown 
 strangely unwilling to involve her daughter deeper 
 in " the mysteries" that had of late seemed to 
 cast such gloom and terror over the fair young 
 life. Still she had never got the strength to pro- 
 test till now. The struggle was like a convul- 
 sion. Poor soul ! 
 
 The finger, however, was relentless. Ages 
 wore swift on before the widow's crazy visioa 
 The finger was pointing still. Then the mother 
 yielded. 
 
 "L La Laura!" 
 
 The quavering voice of her call was heart- 
 breaking in its anguish. It was one of those 
 unnatural vocal sounds that we all have heard 
 from the parted lips of a troubled sleeper, the 
 nightmare cry. 
 
 " Laura, L L Laura ! " 
 
 And the effect of this cry, as it penetrated 
 into the next room, falling upon the affectionate 
 daughter's ears ? Well, we must make allowances. 
 This was not the first time Heaven pity the 
 child ! that she had heard such tones from her 
 mother, "while undergoing treatment." And yet, 
 there was something so unusual in this present
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 uistance, so terrorizing to the ears of affection, 
 that, with a spring, Laura Lane flew towards the 
 door. 
 
 " Oh, mamma, mamma ! " 
 
 But she did not cross the threshold ; she stood 
 upon it, with hands clasped in front of her, with 
 eyes dilated, with lips parted, yet, after her ejac- 
 ulation, uttering no sound. The pointing finger 
 of the conjurer confronted her. The death -like 
 pallor, the ghastly stare of her mother's face 
 and eyes were shocking. She had no power to 
 move forward, till Erastus, quickly at her elbow, 
 offered to assist her. 
 
 " But but I cannot enter that room ! " she 
 exclaimed pleadingly, with a turn of her head 
 towards the young man. 
 
 " It is indeed an outrage to force you there ! " 
 
 This from his lips, which were close to her ear, 
 and in subdued yet vehement utterance. To his 
 honor be it said the hot blood of indignant affec- 
 tion was flushing his features. 
 
 "Oh, sir, I thank you," quickly responded the 
 girl, at the same time grasping his arm with 
 both her hands, and for the first time in all their 
 acquaintance manifesting anything like interest in 
 him with the eyes she turned full to meet his 
 own. "Let us go out at the side door; I am
 
 A SHOCKING LIE. 91 
 
 faint ! " And she clung to the arm she had em- 
 braced as if for refuge. 
 
 " Erastus, my son ! " solemnly spoke the doc- 
 tor. 
 
 "Well, sir!" 
 
 It was decidedly defiant. All the chivalry in 
 the young fellow's soul was bestirring itself. Yet 
 he paused, for all that, midway of his second foot- 
 step towards the proposed side door. 
 
 "Well, indeed!" was the doctor's rejoinder, 
 while his pointing finger began to vibrate. Every 
 motion of the finger seemed to deride his sudden 
 resolution of rebellion. The finger bent its first 
 joint and then straightened itself again. The mo- 
 tion seemed a warning. The finger caught itself 
 on the arc of the thumb and then snapped itself 
 out again ; there was all the unspeakable con- 
 tempt of conscious power in his little movement. 
 
 The young man changed from chivalric red to 
 craven white. He looked down, after all his high 
 glancing. He bit his lip, He obeyed. 
 
 " Come, Miss Lane, let us go in with our 
 parents. I will accompany you." 
 
 If he had only known how near he this once 
 came to winning at least her respect, respect 
 without which surely there can be no love ! 
 
 " I might have known, " she stammered out in
 
 02 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME, 
 
 a helplessness that I cannot explain, " that . you 
 would not dare disobey that that man, even to 
 save a woman's reason ! '' 
 
 Erastus Smiles but shut his teeth hard together, 
 and began to relea*se her arm from his own, at 
 the same time stepping behind her as if he fully 
 expected her to precede him into the little 
 parlor. 
 
 The two young people entered the room, Eras- 
 tus taking a seat, Laura standing just within 
 the doorway, her blue eyes staring, flashing, had 
 there been light to see them. She had never 
 witnessed such extent of audacity in their visitors 
 before ; and this of itself alarmed her. She had, 
 moreover, of late begun to regard the whole 
 affair as bordering on sacrilege, thanks to Mark 
 Broon's unmistakable, though but occasional, utter- 
 ances. Yet recollect, reader, that she had been 
 literally trained with no religious faith whatever. 
 
 And now the ringer dropped to the doctor's 
 side. 
 
 " I am to read you the advice from another 
 world." he began. "It is obscure, yet the way- 
 faring man may not err therein." 
 
 Reading : " Let everything favor him," 
 
 Smiles paused impressively, and looked around 
 with a mien that asked, "To whom can that 
 apply but my benignant self?"
 
 A SHOCKING LIE. 93 
 
 Reading : " As all good men, in these later years, 
 now share their gtods, in some portion, with the 
 suffering in the world they leave behind at death, 
 I regret that I gave naught to benevolence in my 
 last will and testament. " 
 
 Another impressive pause. 
 
 Reading : "It is not yet too late" 
 
 "Not too late?" eagerly asked the widow. 
 
 " Mamma ! mamma ! " protested Laura, unable to 
 longer keep her silence. Yet such was the sway 
 of that mad hour, so utterly undefended was this 
 beautiful girl by any counter and true belief, so 
 boundless was her loyalty of love for her mother, 
 who seemed that moment like one enraptured 
 and ecstatic, that, at a mere motion of her 
 mother's hand, she stayed her own advancing foot 
 and stilled her indignant tongue. 
 
 "So readeth it: 'not yet too late,'" reiterated 
 Smiles. 
 
 " Tell me how ! " shrieked the widow, springing 
 to her feet. " If it be our money, was it not 
 all his ? If the gift of it will ease his soul, 
 give free, blessed sir ! I'll bestow all my his 
 goods to feed the poor ! If it be this home, 
 why, sir, say to him that all the trooping sick 
 shall come and stock their crutches in this yard 
 till they pile as high as in the days of Galilee!
 
 94 
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 Oh, I have read in his books of late how monks 
 and nuns were willing to turn beggars in old 
 times, surrendering princely estates and palaces 
 to obey a creed outworn. Shall not I do as 
 much at the call of the new? Take pen, sir! 
 Take pen ! Oh, thank you." 
 
 She flung herself wildly upon her daughter's 
 neck. A paroxysm of weeping now came to the 
 relief of those surcharged nerves. The dutiful 
 daughter caught her little mother in a tender 
 and strong embrace of rescue. The man Smiles 
 was busy writing now at the table. He had 
 gone far enough ; perhaps further than he had 
 intended. Indeed, he might have detected as 
 much in the alarmed face of his amazed and 
 shaking son. 
 
 " Sir ! " exclaimed Laura, " you are cruel and 
 wicked if you do not help me convey her to 
 her room." 
 
 " No, daughter," faintly whispered the mother, 
 with an effort, standing erect and beginning to 
 move away. " I am quite able to walk. Oh, 
 what an hour ! The opening heavens ! Bring me 
 the writing ! " 
 
 "Never, mamma, never!" cried Laura. "He 
 they neither of these two impostors " 
 
 "Girl!" cried Smiles the elder, advancing t-
 
 A SHOCKING LIE. 
 
 95 
 
 wards her, " how dare you ! The room is full of 
 supernal visitants ! It was your father's command 
 which I read ! And I did not read it all ; there 
 is a line for you. It reads : 'And let not my 
 daughter separate her lot from these things? 
 My son," and he turned towards Erastus, who 
 still kept silence be it said to his shame, "will 
 explain further to you. You assent? You are 
 silent. Now go with your mother, like a good 
 girl. Another day we shall know better our 
 next step." 
 
 Such was the audacity of the man, such the 
 peculiar power of his vulgar daring that this girl 
 stood speechless, her face like marble in the 
 moonbeams, that entered as the only light, for 
 not a lamp had been touched, though it was now 
 quite night darkness; stood matchless in the sil- 
 ver glow, a creature all fears, all dismay, all 
 suffering, all helplessness ; yet so awe-inspiring 
 in her defenselessness, shielding her mother 
 there in the wide doorway, that both these men 
 gathered themselves together and stole away 
 without another word. 
 
 There be spoilers of your goods, who break in 
 to rob your house ; there be also robbers of the 
 mind, like these. I tell no tale with the com- 
 mon plot of defenseless women and vulgar burg-
 
 96 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 lary, but worse: a theft of all sound faith, sound 
 hope, sound mental state. 
 
 Of that night's after hours I have never dared 
 ask a narrative. The sobbing of the sea which 
 succeeded such a tempest; the wildness, the in- 
 coherent cry of pleasure and of pain incongru- 
 ously commingled; the abject misery of the 
 daughter, ministrant to a mother not insane, yet 
 almost. The medicines of words, of tears, of 
 lavings, of home decoctions, and, first and last, 
 of caresses. The sleeplessness as the short June 
 night was changed too quick to somber twilight 
 of the dawn again. And when the elder one 
 grew calm at length, the younger one was needy 
 of her soothing, all in turn. 
 
 The sense of shame, with apprehensions! 
 What had they written? Had they written any- 
 thing? Had they signed anything? The gray 
 light of morning making the dear old home hate- 
 ful in the younger lady's eyes. Plans and coun- 
 ter-plans for the morrow. Should they go? Had 
 they strength? Yes, yes. Laura was sure they 
 had strength for flight. Had they strength for 
 maskings hour by hour after they should come 
 beneath those kind and yet searching eyes at 
 Eaglecroft? They could not tell. 
 
 But evening would tell. Meanwhile, to sleep.
 
 A SHOCKING LIE. 
 
 97 
 
 A closed blind, a strange, unwonted stillness all 
 around the farm. Servants with slippered feet 
 creeping about and whispering. Bees r buzzing at 
 the vines. The afternoon sun declining all in 
 good time. Mr. Broon's carriage. The key 
 turned in the front of the house as if for the 
 last time, so Laura questioned in her mind. 
 
 "We do not know when we shall return," 
 was Laura's last word to the servant. "The 
 farmer will come up to Eaglecroft if he wishes 
 to consult us." 
 
 "What could you mean?" asked Mrs. Lane, 
 comfortably settling herself for the ride, "by 
 saying that we do not know when we shall re- 
 turn?" 
 
 "I don't know," was the girl's reply. 
 
 But her gaze backward, just as the farm gable 
 was shut out of view, had so much of dread 
 in it, that it might have given an answer to a 
 more critical observer. 
 
 "I have signed no papers tnat I ought not?" 
 was another remark, later on, from the mother. 
 
 "Oh, I trust God, no!" wearily sighed Laura. 
 
 Otherwise they rode on in almost unbroken 
 silence.
 
 9 8 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 V. 
 
 HIS MOUNTAIN PALACE. 
 
 sis," was Mr. Philip Hardy's 
 cheery greeting, as the carriage con- 
 veying Mrs. Lane and Laura halted under the 
 portico at Mark Broon's mountain -top lodge. 
 " I think it is high time you brought that white 
 face of yours away from home. I'm almost 
 fraid to kiss it," he did kiss it, however, 
 very promptly and affectionately, "for a good 
 breath might blow it away," patting its wan 
 cheek. "My sister, captain," as he introduced 
 her to Mark's father. 
 
 Between these two huge, handsome, healthy 
 gentlemen, all laughter and banter, beaming a 
 high-bred contentment and generous self-satisfac- 
 tion towards all the world, how frail this trem- 
 bling woman seemed. It being a family party 
 largely, there was instantly a flutter of more 
 plumage of womankind about the two gentlemen 
 than they could make a path through. The 
 pretty and amiable Madge Hardy, arms about
 
 HIS MOUNTAIN PALACE. 
 
 99 
 
 her cousin Laura, with such a profusion of 
 greetings, all sunny as herself. The two elder 
 ladies, hostess and guest, descending the stone 
 steps to add themselves to the welcome. Mark 
 Broon, on the outskirts as yet, somewhat impa- 
 tiently -waiting his opportunity; for, though the 
 dwelling was his own, he always allowed his 
 father and mother to take the lead in hospital- 
 ities, since he "was only half a man as yet, for 
 purposes of hospitality, being bachelor." 
 
 Everything wore the happy look. The magnifi- 
 cent front of the superb house radiant in its 
 fresh colors and newness, with great windows 
 and doorways wide open to the glory of the 
 summer's evening; a flush of the afterglow 
 painting its tower and gables as its flag fell 
 gracefully, dipping to the departing sun. The 
 happy look on newly-made flower-beds and strug- 
 gling young lawns; on the faces of Mark's dogs 
 that stood wagging and grinning at his back; 
 on the servants waiting to serve the new arriv- 
 als ; on the giant maples and beeches, primeval 
 dwellers here, and spared the ax wherever it 
 were possible, bowing lofty courtesies ; on urbane 
 skies, bending so near, and hanging far below 
 the curtains of fantastic cloud. Gaze which way 
 one would, on man and beast and nature, every
 
 100 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 where the happy look, which sometimes who 
 shall say it is not always, for such eyes as can 
 see it? this present glorious world takes on. 
 
 As they trooped into the house, the musicians, 
 few, yet performers not devoid of taste, ren- 
 dered their part of the honors. The melody in- 
 vaded the chambers whither the women repaired, 
 all helping) with obsequious hindrance of fin- 
 gers and tongues, the preparation for "coming 
 right down to the waiting dinner." And the 
 music was from without, coming in at the win- 
 dows as well, if the fickle breeze so pleased ; 
 you were tempted to the casement in little 
 pauses of your dressing to listen, and you forgot 
 the music in the dim, far vision over the slum- 
 bering world beneath, over which, not a score 
 of miles away, so it seemed, there arose the 
 evening star. You sat down on the cushioned 
 window ledge, Laura Lane, with Madge Hardy 
 at your hair, and chattering like a magpie, like 
 this : 
 
 "Tell me now, coz, for mamma and I think 
 he is just splendid!" 
 
 And then in the next breath, giving you no 
 chance to reply : 
 
 "Papa thinks him very, very manly." 
 
 Then: "And such a glorious house!"
 
 HIS MOUNTAIN PALACE. 
 
 Then : " Yes, mamma, we are coming." Most 
 ready." 
 
 Finally: "Why, how dull you are, child. Are 
 you indeed so tired ? It must be dreadfully dull 
 at the farm. And poor, dear auntie, too ! But 
 you will be yourself here in an hour. No one 
 can feel depressed here long, except when the 
 gentlemen get to talking about this dreadful 
 coming conflict." 
 
 " What ? " exclaimed Laura, almost for the first 
 time showing genuine interest. "Is anything 
 else going to come upon us ? " 
 
 There was something in Madge's tone, and 
 furtive, half-affrighted glance as she spoke, that 
 was worse than the words she had quoted from 
 the men's conversation, "coming conflict." 
 
 "Oh, dear, I don't know," replied Madge ris- 
 ing up from the broad window ledge on whose 
 crimson cushion her blue spread out so prettily. 
 "Let me fasten your hair just a bit. They 
 talk about a dreadful war, and all the men to 
 be called to the front, while we poor creatures 
 sit at home and There ! now you look charm- 
 ingly. Let's go down." 
 
 But Laura stood stock still, staring at her 
 cousin, her look of alarm returning, but only 
 parting her lips.
 
 102 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 "Why, coz," exclaimed Madge tugging at one 
 arm, through which she had linked her own, and 
 bending to kiss the affrighted face, "something 
 must have gone quite wrong with you to-day. 
 Or, is it the war ? I felt just as shocked at 
 first. I suppose we hear much more of it in 
 the city than you do up here ; and we were 
 so alarmed about brother, for fear he might 
 get patriotic, you know. But papa called it all 
 foolishness ; said that of course some of our 
 friends would go. You know the government 
 has a regular army. There now, tell me, are 
 you really so far along as to be apprehensive 
 for him?" 
 
 "No." Very decidedly. "Of course not, you 
 simpleton," blushing. "There, indeed! Let's go 
 down." 
 
 Whatever else Laura had said in reply to this 
 running fire of small talk was monosyllabic and 
 too uninteresting- to record. But the brilliant 
 table scene wrought its charming change on 
 every one; and it was the beginning of a charm 
 that lasted, helping, hour by hour, the stout 
 heart of youth and innocence to wear a look 
 that was not all a mask. And the elder heart, 
 of the two we are especially anxious about just 
 now, relieved of its incubus somewhat among
 
 HIS MOUNTAIN PALACE, 103 
 
 these healthy people, got something of its old 
 steadiness again, after an evening of blithe 
 society, music and busy tidings from the outer 
 world. The ladies actually got to talking dress, 
 later on ; while the gentlemen talked politics, 
 in those times of momentous politics. Then 
 there was a pairing off of such as would pace 
 the ample veranda, "to sleep the better," as 
 Capt. Broon explained, taking the widow upon 
 his arm, and adding Mrs. Hardy; the ex-mayor 
 having Mrs. Broon; and Mark with Laura and 
 Madge. 
 
 To make the picture truthful to the last detail 
 and it reveals you the Broons in a word, 
 at the final turn on the veranda, Mark stepped 
 through the window with his ladies, and seated 
 himself at the organ, which was built in an 
 alcove of the parlor. 
 
 "You will make all allowances for a half 
 finished instrument," he explained; "but we can 
 get something out of it. It is my father's 
 favorite music, and, I may add, that I am of 
 the same mind." 
 
 He was more than the average amateur per- 
 former. The evening hymn had room in the 
 open-windowed apartment, and amid these moun- 
 tain altitudes. All sung: with reverence and
 
 104 
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 gratitude, all ; but from no throat so deep and 
 heartfelt a tone as from the bronzed-faced old 
 captain's, voicing to his God a thanksgiving for 
 the day. And the captain was the priest of this 
 home. His honest prayer was as his honest 
 smile, with which, up to this sedate moment, 
 his honest features were ever beaming. 
 
 The night was better. The next day was the 
 best the Lanes had lived for weeks; and the 
 added days sustained the promise of the first. 
 Soon a week and more of these good days had 
 run away amid such delightful employments as 
 elude the pen, like the epoch when a nation 
 has no history. 
 
 The visit at Eaglecroft had been already pro- 
 longed into the third week. The time had been 
 lengthened, despite many a protest from the 
 guests, by those extended excursions about the 
 mountains which the reader, who has once taken 
 them, can but remember with thrilling pleasure. 
 It was finally agreed, this morning of which we 
 write, that the party should not yet be broken 
 up. The ladies should remain, while Capt. Broon 
 and Mr. Hardy returned to the city, for a few 
 days of business. Meanwhile, Mark was to do 
 his best for the entertainment of so many 
 ladies.
 
 HIS MOUNTAIN PALACE. 
 
 105 
 
 He had resolved to begin with Laura; and 
 his buggy and span were at the door, immedi- 
 ately after the elder gentlemen had gone down to 
 the railway station, for a drive to the Crawford 
 House. These two alone; the glorious ride in the 
 hopeful, gladsome morning should decide some 
 things. So at least the young fellow resolved. 
 
 Decide some things ? Yes ; for nothing had 
 been decided in the frolicsome week past, ex 
 cept this : the old captain had been taken pris 
 oner by the magnificent 'Laura. And Laura 
 had joined the other " adorers " of the grand 
 old man whom everybody loved. 
 
 " She'll do, Mark ! " he had exclaimed. " She 
 is the loveliest messmate I ever saw. And she 
 is as honest and good as she is beautiful. Oh, 
 what health she^ has, boy. Such a woman will 
 never give her husband the blues. But isn't 
 she just a shade sad about something, Mark?" 
 
 Truth is Laura had done marvelously well to 
 keep her sunshine with such darkness over her 
 path of duty. The sorest trial was her enforced 
 dissimulation. How she prayed God for the 
 privilege of speaking out. Yet what should she 
 say? She loved Mark Broon. She, Laura Lane, 
 had been true to him. But Laura Lane's lips 
 had spoken him false. And yet it was Smiles'
 
 106 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 lips ; not hers. It was he who misinterpreted 
 her silence, that evening. Well, why not con- 
 fess that, and explain the circumstances ? 
 
 Judge why not, reader, in the light of the 
 following scene. 
 
 It was but a day or two before, on one of 
 those majestic evenings which are only seen upon 
 mountain tops, that the whole party had been 
 sitting upon the broad veranda looking down 
 upon the misty valley overarched by brilliant 
 astral heavens. The conversation had turned 
 upon the supernatural. Mrs. Lane had boldly 
 taken her part in the round robin saying : 
 
 "I believe that mind may cure disease." 
 
 "Indeed, prayer blesses the means we use," 
 promptly exclaimed the captain. 
 
 "Yes, but I have been thinking much of late 
 of this unseen world. I believe some men have 
 powers delegated from heaven to cure." 
 
 Her brother and Mark would have gladly 
 changed the conversation, but she would not. 
 She warmly returned to the topic, asserting : 
 
 "If I could afford it, I would establish* a 
 hospital in which cures should be wrought by 
 means not generally recognized by the medical 
 men. I " 
 
 " Zounds, you would ! " exclaimed the captain,
 
 HIS MOUNTAIN PALACE IO ; 
 
 fairly forgetting himself. " And if I had my 
 way I'd blow up every patent medicine shop 
 which is stealing the wages of the poor, and 
 drive out of the country every one of these pre- 
 tenders who offer to cure by some pretended 
 message from heaven which blasphemes the God 
 I worship." 
 
 Of course the conversation changed then, 
 instantly. But no one had forgotten the old 
 captain's righteous indignation ; and, least of all, 
 Laura. 
 
 " He will never respect me as his daughter 
 when he knows all," she thought. "In this 
 high-minded and orthodox home how like tainted 
 visionaries we. How, oh, my God, did we ever 
 get entangled in such coils ? But it is too late. 
 I will tell Mark all, when, of course, he will 
 despise me as his righteous old father would. 
 Married to a witch and companion of magicians ! 
 He will never." 
 
 Hence it came about that, with a heart heavy 
 with its desperate resolution, the girl came trip- 
 ping, a lying vision of beauty and joy, to the 
 waiting carriage for the Crawford House drive. 
 
 "Laura Lane," exclaimed the lover as the 
 horses danced gaily along the drive, "you do 
 not help me to descend these sharp hills. How
 
 I0 8 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 can a man drive and be looking at you?" His 
 fine weather-colored face was fairly grave in 
 the intensity of his happiness. 
 
 " Why, you needn't look at me, Mark," she 
 said playfully; yet no woman could have wholly 
 resisted that manly compliment. She felt the 
 thrill of his admiration in every nerve. " Please 
 look to the horses, that's a good boy," she cried 
 in girlish banter ; but the woman within her 
 was mightily moved. 
 
 "I may at least look at you here for a mo- 
 ment," he responded, as they began a gentler 
 assent, "we go up here for a little, and then 
 down, down, and a mad whirl, all the way to 
 the valley. Who could deny himself the pleas- 
 ure of such an apparition of beauty as you seem 
 to me? especially if he meant to try to pos- 
 sess it forever." 
 
 He was all respect and deference in every 
 tone and motion. He was almost painfully 
 grave. His face was turned to her with that 
 reverent gaze which she had always seen him 
 give his father, only this was brighter. Then, 
 too, he had some rights ; she had known him, 
 and welcomed his attentions, now these many 
 weeks. She had encouraged him to expect this 
 moment. Her own heart pleaded his rights 
 But her resolve
 
 HIS MOUNTAIN PALACE. 
 
 109 
 
 "Mark Broon," she said, all smiles, "you 
 know that we are not not engaged, and " 
 
 " Say not so, Laura. Say that we are now 
 and forever engaged to love and keep each 
 other till death part us." 
 
 He stopped the horses, which put their noses 
 up into the low hanging maple boughs, nibbling 
 the tender leaves unforbidden. 
 
 What solid ground of plain facts we get down 
 to, ye poets and dreamers, when the final ques- 
 tion comes bluntly from an honest man. Such 
 serious business, arresting romance. 
 
 Mark Broon seemed to her, for the moment, 
 irresistible. The resolution of many hours' form- 
 ing was departing on the zephyrs that fluttered 
 her white plumes, and the under leaves of the 
 greenwood aisles. She was dressed in white; 
 her cheeks flushed into surpassing beauty of 
 contrast. For a moment she could not speak, 
 and her delicate hands toyed nervously at the 
 ends of the silken ribbon that encircled her 
 waist. Her eyes fell, and the drooping lids 
 helped her, for they shut him out ; but those 
 glorious lashes worked against her purpose after 
 all, for they inspired the man anew. 
 
 "You need not formally say yes, like the 
 story-book girl," he exclaimed.
 
 IIO A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 He had whipped off the glove from his left 
 hand, and was searching his pocket for a ring. 
 He had it, held it up flashing in a bar of sun- 
 shine that promptly and graciously streamed in to 
 envelope them. Still she did not speak. Still 
 he could have thanked kind heaven that words 
 were not needed. Her coy silence seemed a very 
 profusion of assent. He would have forced her 
 hand and put the diamond on but for his right 
 hand's grasp on the rein. He dropped the rein 
 to do it, when Laura exclaimed suddenly : 
 
 "Stop ! Heaven help me ! " 
 
 He saw her lift her eyes and look past him, 
 far off through the opening of the trees that 
 combed the cliff at their side. The wondrous 
 blue eyes, not tender now, but stern, or as near 
 to stern as such kind eyes could ever be ; their 
 blue was deeper than he had ever seen it. 
 They looked long and steadily past him, and 
 over the tinted valley, as if fixed on the ends 
 of the world. It was but for a moment ; yet, in 
 that moment her eyes, looking past him, and 
 quite resolved now, had put a thousand miles, 
 a thousand years between them. 
 
 Mark replaced the ring, and gathered up his 
 horses without a word. The road fell sharply 
 off. The animals felt their mettle. In silence
 
 HIS MOUNTAIN PALACE. 
 
 the light vehicle spun down and on, whirling 
 about the front of mountain promentories, under 
 overhanging brows of rock, with flecks of light 
 and shadow streaming over them. Laborers 
 looked up from their stone-breaking to wonder 
 at her beauty, and to envy him. Toiling pe- 
 destrians paused upon their staffs to look, and 
 vote them the happiest two souls in the moun- 
 tains. The smiling vales, a thousand feet below, 
 glanced up at them, from time to time, as if 
 these two were glad celestials, deigning to come 
 down to them. Yet never was a bright outer 
 day so dark within these two young hearts. 
 
 They must have gone on in this unexplained 
 silence for some time, each guessing at the oth- 
 er's thoughts. The precipitous highway and the 
 spirited team furnished Mark sufficient occupa- 
 tion; his fair companion had none, unless it were 
 to note the tremor of the frail vehicle, and 
 think that it surely sympathized with a part, at 
 least, of its burden. 
 
 Why had they not returned ? Sure enough ; 
 instead of subjecting themselves to twenty miles of 
 torture. Because motion was relief. Think of the 
 torture in a chair on the veranda of Eaglecroft, 
 or shut up in one of its chambers. Fly, fast and 
 far, good steeds. Fly, to the ends of the world.
 
 II2 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 At length Mark turned to say: 
 
 "We have but a mile further, and we shall 
 be at the Crawford." 
 
 As he caught sight of Laura's face, her eyes 
 were full of tears. He was sure she had been 
 weeping; or at any rate was ready to break 
 down utterly under her self-imposed trial. 
 
 " Laura, " he cried, bringing the horses to a 
 walk, "have I ever been unkind to you? I will 
 never press you for an answer nor explanation. 
 I will only too gladly be your friend as long 
 as we walk the earth. Forgive my rude silence. 
 I am self-mastered now. I claim nothing. The 
 past is all gone. I have only invited you, in a 
 friendly way, I, your host, to drive with me. 
 Come, speak, and say you believe me. You 
 shall find me a gentlemen the rest of the 
 day." 
 
 She beamed upon him, exclaiming, ardently : 
 
 "You are always a gentleman, Mark Broon ! 
 You are the noblest, truest of men!" 
 
 And she grew to look so eloquent by her 
 distress, though her words came with stammer- 
 ing and the slightest little sob in the world. 
 Who can describe it? Who has not heard it? 
 What man ever stood up before it? That half- 
 sob of a beautiful woman whom he loved; a
 
 HIS MOUNTAIN PALACE. 113 
 
 grief which was yet kept from sobbing itself 
 out by the rush of a high-spirited discourse. 
 She went on : 
 
 "I shall forever and forever revere you, Mr. 
 Broon. It is only just to you that I explain; 
 but I cannot. It is because you are so true a 
 heart that you do not ask me to. Probably you 
 will never know, for we must part to-day for- 
 ever. But you will never doubt me, that , " and 
 she stopped short. 
 
 That was the very point. Of course, no mat- 
 ter what she said, he would doubt her love 
 sooner or later. She must live on in the con- 
 sciousness that Mark believed her a girl of dou- 
 ble dealings, who had freely encouraged the ad- 
 vances of two suitors. 
 
 Mark peered into the demure face a moment, 
 as she remained silent, and then ventured, with 
 consummate delicacy breathing in his tones : 
 
 "Do you mind telling me just what I am 
 never to doubt, Miss Lane?" 
 
 At that moment a clatter of hoofs sounded 
 among the loose stones and yellow mulleins of 
 the roadside. Careless of his horse's legs and 
 his own neck, the rider perseveringly came into 
 as full view as if he had met them. He lifted 
 his hat from a knobbed forehead, and made
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 most gracious obeisance; then regained the road, 
 and showed heels. 
 
 "Oh, Mark!" How she revealed the secret 
 heart by this lapse to his given name when 
 frightened. Laura drew her fine shoulders, 
 shrinking nearer to her escort, as if the horse- 
 man had struck her. But for all that there was 
 something of such deep interest in the look 
 which she now cast after the vanishing form, 
 that of course Mark Broon misunderstood. A 
 boy in love is always a fool at the wrong 
 time. 
 
 "I see," flashed in his reply. "That, adven- 
 turer! That liver- by-his-wits ! Where's his noble 
 sire? They hunt together, I believe, generally." 
 
 Mark cast a look behind, as did Laura also ; 
 but Dr. Smiles was no equestrian, and had not 
 accompanied his son. 
 
 Mark Broon in silence began at once to make 
 his misconception greater. He thought it all 
 out in a moment or two ; how this girl was 
 "weaker than water; was a mere creature of 
 impressions and emotions; was evidently her 
 mother's own child, after all; and though seem- 
 ingly so womanly, there was yet something phys- 
 ical or mental about her that had made, or 
 would make her an easy victim to these men.
 
 HIS MOUNTAIN PALACE. 
 
 115 
 
 Had she not been trained in an atmosphere of 
 oddisms and irreligion ? What, then, could he 
 expect of the neglected conscience? Thackeray 
 and the satirists all had said that the way to 
 make a woman love you is to abuse her; had 
 said that the worst men storm and conquer the 
 best women for wives. Trouble take and fly 
 away with her! She would never be a safe 
 wife. And yet, my God, help me! How lovely 
 she seems to the eye!" 
 
 Laura Lane, too, built up her fortress of mis- 
 takes a little higher, and made it, in that 
 silence, a little more insurmountable, if pos- 
 sible. 
 
 "Of course, they will follow us. I am not 
 surprised. To-morrow some bird will fly to 
 mother, and she will insist on visiting the Craw- 
 ford. Her illness will return. Could Mark 
 Broon and I ever marry and I not be called 
 upon to abandon her, my mother, as one hope- 
 lessly enslaved ? And my property involved, I 
 am a beggar come to him ! And old Captain 
 Broon ? Shall I explain, and open my heart to 
 that dear old soul ? Can I ? Oh, unhappy 
 world, in which I, such as I, am woven in like 
 a helpless thread with vulgar sharpers and cant- 
 ing charlatans. If dear mamma were insane, I
 
 Il6 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 would lock myself in to be her loving nurse 
 till death. She is not insane. She is supersti- 
 tious, which is worse. Mark Broon, my idol, I 
 love thee too fondly to tie thee in this net of 
 rogues and hypocrites. And thou canst not 
 understand, I see." 
 
 At the conclusion, a drop of anger distilled 
 into her cup of grief and love; the effect of 
 which is, not to help us to repent, but to be 
 stout-hearted in a perverse course. Pique has 
 often masqueraded in the guise of conscience. 
 
 And yet Laura could not endure the thought 
 of being judged a flirt. She must resume the 
 conversation; she must at least indicate to him, 
 if she could not bring herself to reveal all the 
 shame of her own complication with the two 
 pretenders, that she was convinced of the in- 
 compatibility of her own and Mark's religious 
 training. She laid her hand on the lines as a 
 hint, and Mark drew up his horses under a con- 
 venient x shade, the Crawford being in full view. 
 
 "I I want you to to understand that I 
 am afraid to marry you," which was such a 
 distraught expression, and did not convey her 
 meaning at all. 
 
 Mark looked at her in blank dismay. 
 
 "That is," she hastened to resume, "even if
 
 HIS MOUNTAIN PALACE. 
 
 I were perfectly free to to marry to receive 
 your attentions. What I mean is, suppose the 
 husband loved his Bible, and the wife only tol- 
 erated it ; suppose one preferred the prayer- 
 meeting, and the other thought it inexplicably 
 uninteresting and dull ; suppose the man's very 
 soul was easily moved by " Jesus, lover of my 
 soul," and the woman's soul felt no answering 
 thrill from the hymn that could compare for a 
 moment with that of // Trovatore ; suppose that 
 in his trials he was helped by a miraculous 
 faith, but she was ever hindered by a sensuous 
 doubt ; suppose the man loved Sunday for 
 worship, and the woman preferred it for play ; 
 suppose you, Mark Broon, feared what I dared, 
 and dared what I feared Oh , my glove ! " 
 
 In gesticulating, with charming feminine nerv- 
 ousness, the girl had flirted to the ground the 
 glove with which she was toying. 
 
 "Of course," cried Mark, and he was out of 
 the vehicle to recover it. "You wonderful 
 woman, I protest. You are not made for augu- 
 ment. What could I fear that you would 
 dare?" 
 
 " The displeasure of your unseen Saviour, for 
 instance. " 
 
 He pushed his straw hat from his brow and
 
 Il8 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 stood there regarding her without reply; but a 
 look of inexpressible pain fell over his youthful 
 face, beclouded in the summer's day. Then, with^ 
 eyes cast to the ground : 
 
 "And what dare, that you would fear?" 
 
 " Death, for instance. " 
 
 " Don't talk of death, we are so young, " he 
 protested. 
 
 It was her turn to stare in surprise. 
 
 " Why, I thought you I thought pious people 
 were always ready to die ! " 
 
 " Yes, ready ; but not preferring. The sick, 
 the broken, the weary and the aged may pre- 
 fer to go ; but not the young and hopeful, to 
 whom life is joyous duty. The good Book says 
 ' To live is Christ, ' a mighty predicate. St. Paul 
 used the largest, fullest word which he knew in 
 all language to express what life was to him, 
 old and solitary man though he were. It is a 
 climax when "he adds, 'but to die is gain. ' 
 That is, departure is, to the Christian, when 
 God calls, more than even the grandest life can 
 be; more than the word Christ, used adverbially 
 could tell. The Christian's death has no simili- 
 tude with which earthly language can express 
 itself. It is simply more than Christ-living on 
 earth. "
 
 HIS MOUNTAIN PALACE. 
 
 119 
 
 Mark spoke with a simple eloquence which, 
 like the purest, loftiest eloquence always, is only 
 possible with an audience of one, and that one 
 the* supreme object of your earthly love. 
 
 " Oh, pity me ! " cried Laura. " Do you not 
 see that we have none of these grand ideas in 
 common? Our joys would be one only in the 
 mere fringe and hem ; but the wide breadths and 
 beautiful texture of life's joy would be different 
 for each of us. If we had sorrows, you would 
 pray, but I would not. I should hear you pray for 
 me ; but you would never hear me pray for you : 
 I do not know how. You should have a wife 
 named Faith ; for I think the Christian life 'is 
 heroic. It must be hard enough to live it, on that 
 high plane, " and her eyes wandered dreamily 
 up towards the crowning heights above them, 
 " when each helps the other. But when one 
 hinders " 
 
 " Stop ! Oh, Laura, " he exclaimed, seizing her 
 hand over the arm of the seat, " I will teach 
 you all this ! " 
 
 " You cannot. It is too late ! " 
 
 " If I cannot, God can and will. And may 
 he forgive me for boasting that I could do it ! 
 Laura, it would need but some great shock, 
 some startling call of awful duty, to open the
 
 I20 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 heart, in such a state of searching for the truth 
 as now is on your young life, to awaken your 
 faith in God. I believe, if these mountains were 
 now to begin to tremble with the crack of 
 doom, that you, with me, would be among those 
 who wait for their Lord ; yes, and never, there- 
 after, to be separated. 
 
 "If you were called to heaven, now," and her 
 trembling lips made sweetest music of the say- 
 ing, "I should never leave off looking and long- 
 ing towards the clouds that hid you." 
 
 Instantly he was at her side in the vehicle ; 
 he took her two hands, while the flecks of sun- 
 light through the maples seemed laughter over 
 the twain. 
 
 " Look with me into life like 'that, Laura. 
 For, God is my witness, that I forsee that I am 
 about to find life full of trials from this day ! " 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 " I can't tell. I think the day of Judgment 
 must be near." 
 
 "Is it the war?" 
 
 " Would you give me a tear if I went ? " 
 
 "Yes, and a ," but she paused. 
 
 " Prayer ? " 
 
 Like a flash it came, and he was exultant 
 with hope in an instant.
 
 HIS MOUNTAIN PALACE. I2 i 
 
 " Don't go ! Oh, God help me not to drive 
 you to that! Promise me!" 
 
 All our women at the North spoke like that 
 at first, those days. Our grandfathers never 
 knew such passionate love from women as the 
 war evoked for the men of our generation. At 
 mention of the war, each affrighted woman 
 opened a door in her heart so wide that the 
 hinges were almost broken, and, thrusting him 
 in to the inner keep, hid the man she loved, 
 were it father, husband, brother or suitor; then 
 she shut and bolted the doors. This, I say, at 
 the first. 
 
 Mark Broon read his hope. It might have 
 been pushed to a plighted troth even then, but 
 that they were halting directly in the roadway 
 of the many tourists, who, by this hour of the 
 day, were wandering down towards the Flume, 
 and among them Erastus Smiles ! 
 
 There was nothing to do but drive on now to 
 the hotel, unless in a whirlwind of repentance 
 she was ready to cry, " Ask me again." But 
 Erastus Smiles bowed. 
 
 Laura Lane's confused conscience stifled the 
 cry, and Mark Broon spoke to the horses to 
 move on, and Erastus Smiles strolled down to 
 wards the pool.
 
 122 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 VI. 
 THE WAR MEETING. 
 
 T IFE was gay enough, those early summer 
 * ^ days, in the mountains. That is, at the 
 first glance you would have said so. There was 
 much coming and going at all the hotels ; the 
 railway trains were never longer, the dusty 
 highways were never more cumbered with con 
 veyances, the light private buggies, the village 
 wagons loaded with city cousins, and the proud 
 Concord stages with bright colors and six-in- 
 hand. Oh, such horses ! And such exhilarant 
 rides upon the seats next and back of the 
 driver. 
 
 There was no lack of hands of New York 
 acquaintances, idle young fellows in white and 
 blue flannel, and brown faces, who strolled up 
 to Mark with : 
 
 " How are you, Broon ? " 
 
 "Ah, Broon, we've heard about your den up 
 here." 
 
 " Den ? A castle, a palace, they say in town. 
 Odd chap, that father of yours."
 
 THE WAR MEETING, 123 
 
 "Mark, old boy, you have n't cut the city for- 
 ever, and become a farmer, eh ? " 
 
 "Here, give me a shake, too. I say, that 
 magnificent creature who just went into the 
 ladies' room Beg pardon." For Broon's face 
 was very grave in spite of himself, and the 
 last young speaker made it graver. " Married, 
 Mark? Excuse me. But I really didn't know 
 it." 
 
 All this, while the horses disappeared round 
 the corner, and Mark, awaiting Laura's re-ap- 
 pearance, drifted into the crowd of city men. 
 They represented every section of the country, 
 and all had nothing to do but smoke, and talk, 
 and watch the ever-varying beauties in color 
 and shade upon the solemn, dreamy mountains 
 round. They waited for dinner and the ladies. 
 They scanned every new comer. Many, elderly 
 gentlemen, who were the majority in fact, to 
 the disgust of a hotelful of young ladies, dis- 
 cussed and discussed and hobnobbed with old 
 friends, and lighted a fresh cigar, unheeding the 
 doctor. Not a few were business associates with 
 old Capt. Broon ; and the son of the old cap- 
 tain was at once kindly and courteously re- 
 ceived. 
 
 But this July day had its cloud, to a closer
 
 WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 observer. The newspapers had been at the 
 Crawford these two hours. The newspapers how 
 the ladies began to fear them, and almost hate 
 them, -they brought a cloud every day. They 
 flew up and down these fair picturesque defiles, 
 and shut out the brilliant, clear sunlight for an 
 hour or two. The coming of the newspaper- 
 train was like the rolling up of a thunder- 
 head, a cloud with sudden rain. 
 
 And there was to be a rain, dear girls and 
 matrons, rain of tears all over our happy land ; 
 and your gay feathers were to droop, oh, so 
 sadly, and so long. The grass was to be too 
 damp to walk upon, even if your lover was 
 near; and the dews were to be darker than 
 those of these mountains, on moon-lit evenings. 
 The newspaper cloud even now thundered ; at a 
 far distance you could hear it every forenoon. 
 
 It was the thunder of civil war. Full three 
 months had the storm been murmuring; but 
 these rich and idle, these young and happy, 
 these old and shop-worn, had declined to listen. 
 The early summer of '61 saw Saratoga and New- 
 port, the mountains and the doll's cottages that 
 brocade the Atlantic sands as brilliant as ever. 
 But the farmers' wives and daughters about 
 Franconia knew and wept, and had already
 
 THE WAR MEETING. 125 
 
 parted with sons and lovers. Not so these 
 wives and daughters dressing for dinner upstairs. 
 The hostler who led Mark's colts to the stable 
 knows the history of every day, from the i6th 
 of April and the shot at Sumter until yester- 
 day ; for yesterday he saw his brother enlist, and 
 to-day he has secretly resolved he will do the 
 same. 
 
 This was the i7th of July. The papers proph- 
 esied it yesterday. To-day they say the great 
 advance is begun. On to Richmond ! Soon the 
 telegraph will be burning with the earlier tid- 
 ings of Bull Run. 
 
 In an idle sort of way, busy with his love 
 wounds, Mark Broon is laying off his duster, 
 being whisked by the puffing negro, shaking 
 hands, and thinking of the girl. He is also 
 growing desperate. With no love to live for, then 
 in what heroic way shall he die ? He wishes he 
 had lived in the time of the Crusades. 
 
 Mark cannot help hearing the stentorian tones 
 of an old merchant who is reading aloud "what 
 the Tribune says. " Everybody listened. The 
 man who had just finished reading "what the 
 Herald says, " was listening as eagerly as any. 
 The man -who held a Times rocked to and fro 
 upon the back legs of his chair and jammed
 
 I2 6 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 his heel into the slats of the veranda-railing, 
 impatient to begin in turn. Waiters and Cooks, 
 grooms, and farmers who had just driven in with 
 "stuff" to sell, put their ears to the lattice- 
 work ; and in vain did Nicholas order them 
 " away from the front of the house. " There are 
 sterner orders abroad, sirs. "Classes" are to 
 mingle again in America. Blood is to mix before 
 you are five years older, the blood of that ne- 
 gro waiter and the young millionaire to whom 
 he hands champagne by the filler there ; mix in 
 a pool at Petersburg. But then no one ^dreams 
 of that yet, as the Tribune reader finishes his 
 last dispatch. 
 
 " May God help us ! " cried the old gentle- 
 man, " I wish I was a young man ! " He sprang 
 to his feet, tossed the crumpled Tribune into a 
 score of snatching hands down on the drive and, 
 lifting his spectacles high up in his right hand, 
 began to' harangue : 
 
 "You young fellows, here, why, I should 
 think it would make your blood boil to read of 
 this glorious opportunity to go fight for your 
 country." 
 
 Mark Broon looked straight into the speaker's 
 eyes, and his handsome young face flushed in 
 an instant through all his weather color. In his
 
 THE WAR MEETING. 
 
 12? 
 
 heart, for a moment, it was as when the wind 
 suddenly changes after days of sultriness. It 
 was one of those eager instants of time, when 
 you are upon the eve of solving many problems. 
 The young fellow's lips parted, but for breath 
 and not speech. He was alive now ; the leth- 
 argy of a life-time was gone. He remembers to 
 this day that shock of a sentence from an old 
 man's lips. It was pain, shame, hope, pique of 
 love, patriotism, dreams of heroic deaths, some- 
 thing to say to father, more to say to Laura, a 
 way out, an object in life, a whirl, a way to 
 forget her if he must, and a way to make her 
 weep for him ! 
 
 It came so suddenly. But then every boy or 
 youth has it sooner or later, a galvanic shock that 
 wakes every sensibility from head to foot. His 
 character is being born then. He cannot tell 
 himself what will survive this throe. Strange 
 that he had not thought of his country before. 
 But then a woman had bewitched him ; and he 
 had been a fool in such stern times, chasing- 
 after this girl. To get a wife. What are wives ? 
 To be happy. What is happiness ? A mission ? 
 And here was a mission going a-begging. Let 
 her go marry this fortune hunter. Why, there 
 he is now, by his father's side, who is listening 
 to this "war speech" with his usual sneer.
 
 128 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 Over the ends of his bended thumbs Dr. 
 Smiles caught the old merchant's eye as the 
 latter paused to take breath. It was strange 
 how the doctor could enforce himself. The 
 white-haired orator swallowed the beginning of 
 his next sentence, and stopped, regarding Smiles. 
 Quick as a flash Smiles got in his word and 
 had the entire audience. 
 
 " But there is another side, my friend ! " 
 
 "Hear him, my countrymen " 
 
 " Yes, hear me," Smiles went on, calm, cold 
 and honey-toned. "What are you going to gain 
 by war? This gigantic North will slay a few 
 thousand of those poor Southern gentlemen 
 and " 
 
 "Who are you? A Southerner?" 
 
 With a smerk, "No sir. By five generations 
 a New Yorker. I know the South, however. 
 There is no endurance there ; they are pas- 
 sionate gentlemen of culture. We can easily 
 crush them. I say I have as profound a con- 
 tempt for their army as you have. But what's 
 the use in killing off the people from any state 
 for the mere fiction of keeping the soil in a 
 nominal union ? " 
 
 " Who are you ? " roared the merchant. " My 
 name is Stone, sir. I trust I am well known in
 
 THE WAR MEETING. 
 
 129 
 
 the South. But you ? Why, you are neither one 
 thing nor another. I was born in Charleston, 
 S. C., though loyal to my country these five 
 and thirty years, I've lived in New York. I 
 know these misguided Southrons. They will 
 fight like heroes ; and before we whip those 
 brave traitors, that son of yours for I guess 
 he is by the resemblance will be drafted if 
 he don't volunteer!" 
 
 Everybody turned eyes on the son, who grew 
 ashen as he started to spring to his feet. But 
 the doctor's toe touched the son's toe, which 
 signal nobody could see among the thick chairs. 
 Erastus sunk back as his father turned his black 
 eyes affectedly up, and exclaimed : 
 
 "God forbid that a child of mine should be 
 a shedder of blood ! Mine, sir, is the blessed 
 healing art. As to who I am, I trust there are 
 several of these fair ladies who can speak for 
 me." 
 
 The thumbs seemed to roll poor Stone, the 
 patriot and honest man, into fine powder. 
 
 At that word, everybody became conscious, for 
 the first time in this hot flash, that the ladies 
 had flocked out of the low parlor windows and 
 hall-ways to make up a brilliant and anxious 
 audience. They stole arms through arms of excited
 
 130 
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 husbands and fathers. They, silent and affrighted, 
 caught at the hands of brothers and sons. 
 Some whispered dissuasions and pleaded in low, 
 sweet tones with the men they loved " not to 
 talk horrid politics." Some, with impressive 
 palor, and some with pretty blushes of real ter- 
 ror, put faces to male shoulders, having tugged 
 in vain at arms and hands to lead the lords 
 away. 
 
 And in that perfume and flutter, that rustle 
 of lawns and silks, that bouquet of fair young 
 forms and matronly dignities; in that crush, not 
 of the ball-room, in that throng where not a 
 laugh was heard, it was quite high time that some 
 restraint should come, for half the men were 
 on their feet with rage beyond control. 
 
 A telegram did it. It ran: 
 
 " We are being whipped at Bull Run. " 
 
 It was the brush of Thursday, reader. Sun- 
 day, the 2 ist of July, a day never to be for- 
 gotten, was not yet. 
 
 " I told you so, " sneered Smiles. 
 
 "Not so, sir! You prophesied the very con- 
 trary ! " 
 
 It was Mark Broon. Poor boy, he had never 
 faced this man before. He had felt, for some 
 moments, his soul glaring at the pair without
 
 THE WAR MEETING* 
 
 using his eyes, as sometimes the soul can see 
 with the face not turned, ever since Mr. Stone's 
 first rebuff. He knew why the doctor had talked 
 on his chosen tack almost as well as if he had 
 actually overheard the smooth whisper, " There's 
 your rival, Rat ; I'll talk to egg him to the en- 
 listing point." 
 
 The telegram and the taunt had proved quite 
 too much. Mark instantly broke his resolution 
 and turned to look straight at the two. What 
 his lips said was like what flax says when the 
 flame licks it. Flash ! 
 
 " Do you call my father a liar ? " 
 
 Flash second ! from Erastus, chair-armed. 
 
 " I acknowledge no acquaintance with you nor 
 your father," replied Broon. " But since I have 
 spoken, I am willing to confess openly that I've 
 been an idle fool ! I love my country. I respect 
 and hate traitors and will go fight them. And I 
 despise the man who is on neither side ! " 
 
 " Look at a traitor ! " 
 
 "And another!" 
 
 "And another!" 
 
 It was in chorus from a handful of Kentucky 
 gentlemen, who instantly drew together and, with- 
 out perhaps intending to rally to him, about the 
 doctor still calmly seated, and about Erastus 
 half advancing. Then one said :
 
 132 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 " Perhaps you'll fight us now, young fellow ! " 
 
 Crash ! As forty chairs were pushed back and 
 as many men got on feet. Everybody was stand- 
 ing now. One united cry in soprano, discordant 
 and pitiful, as women fluttered, but, for the most 
 part, did not fly. Then " good society " in an- 
 archy as complete, as instant, as in a mining 
 camp. Human nature will always quickly lapse 
 to barbarism at sufficient provocation. 
 
 "Papa!" "Charley!" "Tom!" "Oh, my 
 husband ! " " My boy ! " " My child ! " 
 
 A vortex of white arms flashing and coiling 
 out of laces and gauzes and about men's necks ; 
 lips pouting, paling ^and pleading. Such as felt 
 that they must faint, swooped into the parlors to 
 convenient sofas. Female gray heads took shel- 
 ter also, and sat sobbing convulsively behind 
 their handkerchiefs, while others, mothers of 
 young children, clucked them together and out 
 of harm's way, ruffled charmingly. 
 
 " Oh, this dreadful war ! And I have one son 
 here and another in the South ! " The old dame's 
 tears streamed down upon her diamond - loaded 
 hands. She seemed to be fairly washing her 
 hands in the tears, rocking herself to and fro. 
 
 "And I have brothers there. Oh, how my 
 husband rails at them of late. "
 
 THE WAR MEETING. 
 
 133 
 
 The pretty speaker's cheeks were bloodless as 
 she sat clinging to her children, and pricking 
 ears to hear what next from the veranda. 
 
 But who can delineate it, that agony of horror, 
 the war among brethren? And we had grown 
 up a generation to whom wars were only in 
 histories, or in newspaper dispatches from be 
 yond seas, which our women never so much as 
 glanced at. We could not believe it, least of all 
 these women of velvet ease. 
 
 When Laura Lane came tripping down the 
 broad stair, beautiful in her own grief, and 
 thinking only of it, this is what she saw from 
 the threshold, where she paused transfixed. 
 
 The man she hated, his misshapen features 
 blazing; the man she loved, his fine face kin 
 died as she had seen it before, but now with 
 an added angry glow. Broon was advanced into 
 the center of the throng. They seemed to make 
 way for him like a leader, and to look towards 
 him for commands. Dr. Smiles was very grave, 
 for a change, and had stepped back, .half hid 
 among ladies, who were at once both shielding 
 him and themselves by him. Women will so 
 contradict themselves in danger. They were pa- 
 tients of his. 
 
 Laura thought she had never seen Mark Broon
 
 134 
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 appear so manly. She thought, "Grand!" But 
 in an instant suppressed it with : 
 
 " Foolish boy ! Oh, shame ! A public, vulgar 
 collision about poor me!" 
 
 Of course she reasoned so. She supposed 
 the rivals had never met face to face before. 
 As for the war, why, this child had been heart- 
 full of her own civil war, mother against lover. 
 It was so with half the country; we were eat- 
 ing and drinking, marrying and giving in mar- 
 riage. 
 
 Her disgrace, the humiliation of old John 
 Lane's family, was now complete. He not dead 
 three years, and yet his wife the willing victim 
 of an adventurer, his fortune squandered, his 
 daughter the bone of contention in a low 
 scrimmage in a fashionable hotel, before some 
 of the best of their old neighbors and the 
 mates of many a happier day ; for she caught 
 sight of several school-mates in the throng. It 
 was too much. She would have fled anywhere 
 to escape, but at that moment she heard Mark's 
 clear, calm reply to the challenge of the Ken- 
 tucky gentleman. 
 
 "Sirs, war is a grievous thing at best, and 
 would be doubly grievous in this presence. I 
 suppose none of us are accustomed to street
 
 THE WAR MEETING. 
 
 135 
 
 brawls. But if you are down in Virginia next 
 week we may possibly meet there. For, if God 
 spare me, I'll match bold language with deeds. 
 The loyal North will resort to the means that 
 the South has suggested. If the whole country 
 must be laid waste and made a desert to save 
 this Union, so it shall be." 
 
 Cheer on cheer kindled the young fellow. He 
 began to be without pain at the heart. He re- 
 members that he was surprised to notice how 
 almost happy he was. A natural speaker, a 
 splendid voice, the boy-spirit yet in the man's 
 body, he went on : 
 
 " I warn Southern gentlemen, that if this war 
 continues, they will see the day when this free 
 nation sets free every slave, the thing my good 
 old father has been praying for ever since I 
 can remember. And I would like to ask that 
 doctor, back among the ladies, if that isn't worth 
 the struggle ? " 
 
 Erastus was so excited as to be utterly irrel- 
 evant in picking his quarrel. 
 
 "You seem to taunt my father with being a 
 member of an abolitionist society. Father is in 
 sympathy with all advanced thinkers, but he 
 would not not fight for a nigger." 
 
 "I did not know nor refer to what you appear
 
 1 36 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 to half confess," quickly responded Mark. "But 
 as near as I can learn, your father don't fight 
 for anything when he can win by indirection. 
 Where he can make capital by posturing as an 
 abolitionist, no doubt he has " 
 "Scoundrel! Take that back, or " 
 But the tiger spring was very foolish. Mark 
 Broon was much the finer man. His gigantic 
 strength was like a vice- clasp on Erastus' fore- 
 arm. His own lifted right arm was ready for 
 a crushing blow; when, like a sunburst, Laura 
 Lane stood between them, and reached up her 
 cold hand to his wrist. That was as far as she 
 could' reach, and further than most women, for 
 she was of queenly stature. 
 
 She spoke not a word. But the soft hand 
 was so chill, and the fingers seemed to caress 
 as they entwined. Her front was commanding. 
 She regarded him only, and deigned not a glance 
 on the other man. She was so majestic, so 
 noble, and yet the sweet face so full of trou- 
 ble, that the throng, viewing her, breathed and 
 breathed again. The interval of two breaths 
 without a word seemed like an hour just then. 
 The outskirts craned their necks. The next 
 breath would have roared a cheer for this peerless 
 peace- maker. It was _in every heart already. .
 
 THE WAR MEETING. 137 
 
 But just then Mark Broon dropped his arm 
 and bent and kissed her ! He would have been 
 more than human had he not. He had this in 
 his thought: "The first shall be the last!" and 
 this in his voice : 
 
 "Forgive me this, good angel. I sincerely 
 thank you. You have saved me from' the mem- 
 ory of doing him harm. Let him go ! " 
 
 And with that he whirled young Smiles from 
 the grip of his left hand like a log, back into 
 the spasmodic clutches of his supporters. 
 
 " You shall pay for this ! " shrieked the strug 
 gling Erastus, over the shoulders of half a 
 dozen gentlemen, who mingled laughter with in- 
 dignation as they restrained him. 
 
 Mark looked at him with contempt, cooling 
 rapidly now, and answered the multitude instead 
 of young Smiles. 
 
 "I beg humble pardon of this company. I 
 have no feud to pursue with this fellow. God 
 forbid that I ever meet him again." 
 
 Then, with well-bred self-control, though she 
 could feel him yet shaking with the subsidence 
 of his fervor, he drew Laura's arm through his, 
 with the remark : 
 
 "If we can do it, shall we not make our way 
 to the dining-room?"
 
 [38 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 To dine ? No one seemed to have thought of 
 that. But the word began to spread among the 
 men, who can generally manage to eat, come 
 what will. The mention of dining began to act 
 like oil on the ugly sea. In a moment more 
 the ladies would have been grouped into threes 
 and fours of burning faces and chattering 
 tongues, and the men would have been laying 
 their hats in the rack by the dear good dining- 
 room doors. 
 
 But the telegraph again began to burn. Some 
 one came from the office with tidings. At once 
 a young fellow was reading it, standing on a 
 chair. It was the miserable news of the early 
 ill success about Manassas. It was "a mere 
 skirmish." The next tick, "It was a battle." 
 It was, no one seemed to know just what. 
 The most contradictory dispatches were received 
 and read in the space of the next five minutes. 
 In what seemed a moment, hall, veranda, steps 
 were packed again and more densely than ever. 
 A hostler stood close against Laura on the left. 
 The kitchen emptied itself into the parlors ad- 
 jacent. There was no outcry now. The reader 
 on the chair went over and over every yellow 
 sheet he had. It was necessary, for the tele- 
 graph had suddenly ceased to burn. That was
 
 THE WAR MEETING. 
 
 139 
 
 well, for hearts were burning hot enough now. 
 Do you not remember it, reader? Then pity 
 me, trying to tell how women wept and fainted ; 
 how knees trembled under age, and young blood 
 boiled. 
 
 There was no one to wait on him, but good 
 Dr. Smiles passed through and into the dining- 
 room. He had persuaded two rich old lady pa- 
 tients to hang on his arms, poor shaky things. 
 Erastus, feather-smoothed somewhat, now followed, 
 or was trying to follow, through a window, with 
 one of his sisters. 
 
 "Come, gentlemen, dine first and enlist after- 
 wards," laughed the doctor, as he wedged his 
 way along. 
 
 The throng turned its eye on the bold cynic 
 in amazement. Did you ever feel the eye of 
 Humanity turned full on you ? You, heretofore 
 insignificant, private, suddenly become the ob- 
 served, the public, the solitary among thousands, 
 who drew apart and had nothing to do with 
 you but to look at you? Not a human being 
 will approach you except with the eyes ? It is ter 
 rible to feel that the whole of your little world 
 has suddenly turned into an eye, and that star- 
 ing on you. It is fame or infamy, both unen- 
 durable alike, doubtless, in their stare. But
 
 140 
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME, 
 
 Smiles was equal to it. He was conscious of 
 power. He had had no sensibilities these several 
 years. He returned the gaze with even a satis- 
 fied look, and repeated : 
 
 " Dine first and enlist afterwards, good 
 friends." 
 
 The word was electric. Enlist! 
 
 With a bound Mark Broon mounted the stair, 
 and shouted : 
 
 " I propose that we enlist first and dine after- 
 wards. Come, boys, let us raise a company 
 right here ! Clear us that table by the parlor 
 door. Tom Stone, I believe you are your fath- 
 er's son. You have heard the old gentleman's 
 war speech. Sit down at that table and take 
 our names. Put me down first, if I may venture 
 to claim so much honor." 
 
 "Hold, gentlemen," spoke a quiet voice, and 
 a matter-of-fact man pushed his way into the 
 crowd. " I happen to be a recruiting officer, 
 regularly commissioned by the governor of this 
 state. Have been working all the forenoon 
 among the farmers and such, round the hotel; 
 didn't expect so high game. Here are regular 
 papers. But this means business, boys. Now 
 then ! " 
 
 And he threw the sheets Who can forget
 
 THE WAR MEETING. 141 
 
 those scrolls that "meant business?" down on 
 the marble-top. He was seated and his portable 
 ink-bottle was slipped out of pocket in a mo- 
 ment. He held up the pen for "Whose hand 
 first?" 
 
 Ah, poor Laura ! Has it come to this ? You 
 were standing just below Mark, your breast 
 heaving, your matchless face, your glorious eyes 
 upturned in a sort of wondering worship, when 
 Mark spoke again: 
 
 "All right, sir. Put me down." 
 
 You did not sob, Laura Lane, as many of 
 the women about you began to do. You seemed 
 to turn to stone. But oh, such shape of 
 stone ! 
 
 "That I cannot do, young man," said the of- 
 ficer to Mark. "You must come and take the 
 pen. Every man above one and twenty can sign. 
 Here ! " 
 
 The outstretched pen was like a magician's 
 wand, The throng parted under it. Mark ad- 
 vanced soberly through the opened way, and 
 took the pen and signed. 
 
 Yet Vanity Fair did not cheer. It was in 
 stupor. This "meaning business" had benumbed 
 it. The tension, however, was awful. This si- 
 lence could not last. My God, what war of
 
 142 
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 thoughts, invasions, pillage and burning of youth- 
 ful hopes and charges of desperate resolves, in 
 those silent moments! And as yet there was 
 not another hand to take the pen which Mark 
 held out. 
 
 "Just ask the musicians," proposed the home- 
 spun recruiting officer, "to give us 'Hail Colum- 
 bia' or 'America.' " 
 
 The foreign fellows shook themselves, and be- 
 gan the latter dear old melody with horn and 
 fiddle. There were not many pieces, but at the 
 beginning of the second line you would not 
 have known that there were any. A hundred 
 voices, two hundred, three hundred, within doors, 
 without upon the lawns and gravel, voices of 
 men, women, children sung. They roared it; they 
 piped it. Look at that old farmer in his blue 
 frock, he with the hay-fork over his shoulder, 
 who would have thought he could sing? They 
 sung it with a strange solemnity. Not a face 
 smiled. They sung it as if the words were 
 weapons. The men marked time with their feet; 
 it answered for the drum-beat. But oh, how it 
 struck the women's hearts ! The building seemed 
 a living, throbbing thing. The very flag, that 
 lazily twined about the staff up in the July heat 
 seemed to catch its meaning, and shook itself
 
 THE WAR MEETING. 
 
 143 
 
 out on the sky. Some one from without caught 
 sight of the flag. Of course, everybody was 
 thinking of it and wanting to see it. 
 
 " See ! She streams to the North, as if going 
 South!" 
 
 Then cheer on cheer went up. Yet the 
 music rolled on. Words, or no words, men sung. 
 The women grew out of their tearfulness and 
 fluttered little handkerchiefs in air. Yet not a 
 few of these women were like the dead ; struck 
 down, you would have said, by a breath, when 
 some one shouted the name of their sons or 
 husbands or brothers who had grasped the pen. 
 
 For all this while now the pen was busy. 
 The line was like the voters' line at the ballot 
 box. That was right. The younger people .who 
 read this narrative cannot realize it. This de- 
 scription seems to you extravagant. In fact, it 
 is written in pale colors. There were hours in 
 '6 1 when men crowded, pushed, contended for 
 the enlisting pen. It was a sublime frenzy, but 
 God save us from the need of ever seeing it 
 again. 
 
 Now dine, ladies and gentlemen. But your 
 cook is a soldier with your son. The house is 
 unmanned. Well, well, that will not matter, for 
 to-morrow many of the guests will be gone into
 
 WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 camp, up here in the country village of Bethle- 
 hem, and Mark Broon will be captain of the 
 new company, "meaning business." Dine, now; 
 you had better; for it will be the last time to 
 some of you that the whole family sit at the 
 same table. What? You will not dine? You 
 have no stomach for green things ? You should 
 have gone in with the dear doctor and his son, 
 who have already finished a hearty dinner so 
 good naturedly. Indeed, the noble man is in the 
 best of humor; even half proposes congratulating 
 "Captain Broon," but upon reflection thinks bet- 
 ter of it, and turns rather to congratulate his 
 own son. 
 
 The doctor finds no especial comfort in the 
 benignant smiles he turns on his own family, 
 whose faces are pale with the consciousness of 
 that coldest of all kinds of cold social ostra- 
 cism ; nor in the faces of such Southerners as 
 frown while the stiff lips nibble. It was a din- 
 ner with snatches of patriotic song whistled and 
 caroled amid hurrahs and laughter, sobs and an- 
 gry cries. Yet the doctor wiped his lips com- 
 placently the while, and kept Erastus at his side. 
 Finally he remarked: 
 
 "We have been sitting here two hours, chil- 
 dren," consulting his watch. "I think the storm
 
 THE WAR MEETING. 
 
 has swept by, and our house is standing yet r 
 my boy." 
 
 " Curses ! But just look at that pair," growled 
 'Erastus, with a stare towards the wide front 
 hall. 
 
 "Oh, fie," was the doctor's response. "You 
 do not seem to take into the account my pa- 
 tient, her mother." 
 
 There they were. Mark was helping Laura 
 into his buggy at the door. In a sort of dream 
 the young hero of much congratulation and fre- 
 quent applause had managed to get through the 
 lionizing of the last hour. He was sure of 
 nothing but that Laura Lane had been clinging 
 to his arm now for some time, and pleading to 
 be taken up to Eaglecroft. He had an idea that 
 forty different men had offered to telegraph to 
 his father; that thirty or forty men had gone 
 to order his colts, and brought them round, and 
 now were all trying to help him and Laura into 
 the vehicle; and that he had explained that he 
 must drive up for the night, but would surely 
 be on hand when the company was organized in 
 the morning. He was certain that for a long 
 time lie protested that he would not be captain, 
 and finally gave over protests helplessly. 
 
 He was glad when the parting cheers grew
 
 146 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 fainter ; when the clouds of red dust shut them, 
 departing, out of view; and he could turn and 
 look on this, girl at his side.
 
 THE SOLDIERS WEDDING. 147 
 
 VII. 
 
 THE SOLDIER'S WEDDING. 
 
 U "X7"OU have eaten nothing since morning, 
 Laura," Mark began. " I know of a 
 farm-house, if these horses" feathering the whip 
 over their swelling flanks "will ever climb this 
 hill and bring us there, where we can stop for 
 a glass of fresh milk." 
 
 But Laura only clung to him. 
 
 "Look, there it is, with its red gable!" 
 
 But Laura made no reply. 
 
 "And the cows are just coming home," he 
 resumed. "I'll call for a glass. Meanwhile I'll 
 make a soldier of the cow-boy for my com- 
 pany." 
 
 "But I am not hungry, Mark." 
 
 Red and white flesh and blood, with downcast 
 eyes, toying with the fringe of the robe. 
 
 "It is strange," with a bright look up and 
 full at him, "how different you men are from 
 us women. You are hungry! And yet your 
 very soul must be full of your great errand."
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 Then after a shy pause: 
 
 "And still you seem to have been giving 
 thought to poor me." 
 
 "Because I thought you ought to eat enough 
 to live? Say rather a thousand higher thoughts 
 of you than that, Laura Lane," he exclaimed, 
 with a laugh almost cheery, and catching at the 
 overture. 
 
 In the enthusiasm that now swayed him all 
 conventionalities seemed of small account. Yet 
 it is not probable that he would have ven- 
 tured to resume the serious subject of their 
 morning ride had she not thus frankly encour- 
 aged him; for it was not six hours since, along 
 this very road, he had pledged her his honor 
 never to return to the tender theme again, 
 to trouble her. 
 
 Pages of attempted description, however, could 
 not present so graphic a picture of those exact- 
 ing times as appears in the simple fact that, in 
 the next moment, Mark Broon seized Laura 
 Lane's hand, and exclaimed: 
 
 "After what has transpired to-day, Laura, and 
 here, on the eve of what is to transpire, it may 
 be almost to-morrow, what is there left to you 
 and me but be wed?" 
 
 She started; but she did not offer to release
 
 THE SOLDIER'S WEDDING. 
 
 149 
 
 her hand. The sublime crisis in the life of a 
 great nation had wrought its ripening effect 
 upon her girlish mind as upon his. The spoiled 
 child of the morning was a woman at evening. 
 How startling it often was in those awful days 
 to mark the sudden maturing of youth; the lad 
 of fifteen years took up the weapons of a man, 
 and with difficulty could he be dissuaded ; the 
 mere child wore the countenance of maturity, 
 fearing and hoping, weeping and praying at her 
 mother's side, as her sire or brothers spoke of 
 "the duty of the hour." As a sunny week in 
 January has been known to swell the buds al- 
 most like June, so did youth ripen before its 
 time; so were courtships shortened, and decisions 
 of the heart, which usually need years, were 
 taken in a day. And yet I, who have lived to 
 see the generation born of such marriages, have 
 failed to note any less happiness in them, or in 
 the homes they have blessed. 
 
 "To be married, I say, Laura." 
 
 She did not yet reply. Scratch of hoofs 
 climbing the pebbly hill; song of birds in the 
 cool of evening all about them, and caw of 
 winding flocks of crows, high up against the 
 tender-tinted sky; the light of that great burn- 
 ing sun, low down and red as blood, cast over 
 them and all things.
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 "You do not answer me, " he said, reverently 
 raising her hand to his lips. 
 
 " At once, Mark ? " 
 
 This she said, with a demure glance aside, to- 
 wards him, but hardly up into his impassioned 
 face. 
 
 "Yes, at once. That is, within the week, 
 Laura." 
 
 " It is so short a time, " she resumed, yet un- 
 mistakably yielding, moment by moment, but with 
 little motions of alarm as if shrinking back from 
 her own new-found peace and happiness. 
 
 "It it is so very short a time," repeating it. 
 
 " It is so grand a time ; a time of war." 
 
 "What will the world say?" 
 
 " Who dare wish ill to the soldier's wife ? 
 Besides, Laura, I cannot tell how noble, how 
 grand, how lovely you have come to be in my 
 eyes from this day's revelation of you. I can- 
 not live without you. I can live through every- 
 thing for you. I will not leave you undefended 
 amid such toils as I see laid for you." 
 
 "But mother?" 
 
 " You can defend her better as my wife." 
 
 " But we can have no wedding," and she 
 laughed and looked down charmingly, apologizing 
 for this, a woman's reason.
 
 THE SOLDIER'S WEDDING. 151 
 
 " Which shows, my dear girl, that you yield 
 to me. Thank God ! It shall be a soldier's wed- 
 ding at least ; and that's going to be the fash- 
 ionable kind, this season, Laura Lane. Depend 
 on that!" 
 
 Then that celestial rapture was sent to them 
 which is meant by Heaven for most of us, if 
 we will receive it. They were for the time the 
 two only earthly beings. They demanded of the 
 universe, "Who objects?" And the universe held 
 its peace. It was well for the universe; for the 
 man never before felt so strong. He could defy 
 the world. He could defy death. And then, 
 after a little, the woman looked pleadingly into 
 his face and said : 
 
 "But you surely will live to come back again, 
 dear Mark?" 
 
 " I will ! " he answered. 
 
 As if the power of life and death was all his 
 own. Indeed, he felt a religious solemnity in 
 the reply. God would speed the right ; and Mark 
 Broon had never felt himself so near right in 
 his life as in the two great steps he had taken 
 this day. He was a new man, with new aims, 
 wife and country. 
 
 When had he ever lived such a day? It 
 seemed years since the morning. In the silence
 
 152 
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 that is more vocal than speech he found him- 
 self studying her glove which lay in her lap 
 since she had removed it to put on the ring. 
 But who can analyze the nameless charm that 
 emanates from these small tokens ? Who can 
 write how nature grows sentient and sympathiz- 
 ing ; that song of evening bird, the evening 
 clouds that begin to wear faces of benediction, 
 the highway maples that whisper, " It is well ; " 
 and the wild flowers that encourage them, " It 
 will all come out right ; " or who can interpret 
 what the mountain stream is saying to her, as 
 it murmurs at the roadside? 
 
 Then there came over him a feeling of his 
 unworth ; that possibly he was very selfish, after 
 all, in thus making sure of her. He could 
 hardly feel his right to her. As much right had 
 he to the sunset splendors ! After a while, 
 amid all the nameless small chat, which everybody 
 knows and nobody could write down, he must say 
 this serious thing to her ; confess that he had 
 no right to claim her ; she was far too good 
 and noble for him, etc. To all of which he 
 got the usual reply of good women, reassuring 
 him once for all. At any rate to most men 
 that courtship reassurance is once for all ; they 
 never harbor such doubts of their rights and 
 worth again.
 
 THE SOLDIER'S WEDDING. 
 
 153 
 
 An indescribable journey that, the remnant of 
 that summer evening's winding, loitering climb, 
 high up among the clouds of leaves, and clouds 
 of moon-silvered mists to distant Eaglecroft. And 
 the fires of this day's kindling are still burning 
 brightly all the way ; fires of heroism, fires of 
 love. With the man at least there are no signs of 
 reaction ; he talks incessantly of war and country, 
 of his embryo company, of whom he will make 
 lieutenants, of the men and utterances he had 
 heard and encountered that day, of all the great 
 patriotic speeches he had declaimed from his 
 school-days ; and generally aired his heroism, 
 which, we confess, he had proved this day was 
 ready for deeds, all in her admiring eyes and 
 raptured ears. 
 
 This display of himself was the highest pos- 
 sible compliment to her whom he loved and 
 trusted, whose admiration was the sweetest reward 
 on earth to him. He turned his heart inside 
 out for her to look upon, and his dreams, his 
 hopes, his plans. 
 
 I hope she appreciated it, had the fine discern- 
 ment to detect its delicate devotion to herself, 
 as I believe she had, and I trust the reader 
 has. 
 
 For herself Laura Lane would not, could not
 
 154 
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 take much account of obstacles that surely were 
 before her ; as mountains in the distance but 
 add the picturesque to the road you are travel- 
 ing. Her spirits kept pace with his, for the 
 present. At length, as they drew near the jour- 
 ney's end, that other problem, of their religious 
 difference, began to reassert itself and demand 
 her attention. She ventured to speak, after a 
 while, her thoughts, saying : 
 
 "Mark, there is never a sky so bright that no 
 clouds obtrude." 
 
 "What clouds obtrude?" he asked stoutly. 
 
 "Well, Mark, perhaps there are only small 
 flecks of cloud left. I am sure that you know 
 that you are are able to approach the unseen 
 God more intimately than I. Yet it is strange 
 how near that Great Protecting Power has be- 
 come, in very thought, because we since we 
 need Him so much now." 
 
 He suffered her to stammer through her new 
 confession of faith without assistance to the end, 
 delighted beyond words himself that she had 
 been driven into faith as a refuge. 
 
 " It is not the first time, Laura, that a doubt- 
 ing, or, at least, a mislead and blinded human 
 soul has fled to God in a storm. I foretold 
 you it would be so."
 
 THE SOLDIER'S WEDDING. 155 
 
 "These dreadful days at least drive human 
 hearts together." 
 
 " Yes ; and they will drive many hearts to the 
 protecting God. Now, here we are at home. I 
 am sure your religious atmosphere will clear, my 
 dear. Indeed, I think it has already. Come 
 now, daughter of Yankee land, you are no dis- 
 believer. You are a child of the Puritans, Blood 
 will tell. You are a daughter of the old heroes, 
 and I am going to prove a true son. Eh ?" 
 
 There was so much of almost unnatural excite- 
 ment in the young fellow's mind that Laura 
 found herself borne along with it. It was an 
 enthusiasm. It was irresistible. 
 
 "I I think I ought to tell you about our 
 family affairs," she managed to get in. 
 
 But they were at the horse-block ; they were 
 alighting. His arm was about her as he con- 
 ducted her along the veranda. The truth of her 
 affection for him insisted on being allowed its 
 perfect repose, for the present at least. 
 
 " Leave all such affairs to my shrewd, my 
 honest and strong old father," he said, as they 
 slipped through the open low window into the 
 dining-room. 
 
 It was a late supper ' that these two took in 
 the new dining-room of Eaglecroft; and there
 
 BEDDING IN WAR-TIME, 
 
 were only those two and the servants. As they 
 finished, Mark's eyes wandered about the hand- 
 some apartment for a moment, when he said : 
 
 "And you shall be mistress here till the 
 master returns. By morning, Laura, the captain, 
 my father, will be here; and before you wake 
 out of the good sleep I pray for you, I'll have 
 the news all broken, and he'll kiss you as his 
 daughter when you come down." 
 
 Poor girl ! it was well on into night now ; 
 and besides he would not have suffered her had 
 she begun to tell the mixed tale of her entan- 
 glement with the Smiles family. Indeed, it came 
 to her like a shock that she had forgotten all 
 about it ; that she was almost engaged, or how 
 was it ? with Erastus. The last mention of 
 the honest old sea captain's name brought every- 
 thing to mind. 
 
 Yet youth must have its sleep. Thank God, 
 youth can procrastinate. Dear, kind Procrastination, 
 though called the thief of time by envious Age, 
 whose time is short, thou art the friend of 
 youth. Thou layest on to-morrow the heavy load 
 that is killing to-night, thou takest from young 
 hearts the present grief and fretfulness, giving 
 sleep, yes, giving present sweets. Art slow and 
 dull ? It is false ; thou, Procrastination, art quick
 
 THE SOLDIERS WEDDING. 
 
 157 
 
 to snatch, to pounce upon and carry off a 
 present joy from the very clutch of a stolid 
 sorrow. 
 
 And so Laura Lane slept, and dreamed bright 
 dreams, on the very eve of many battles. 
 
 At the foot of the stairs, the next morning, 
 there stood the old captain, with his strong 
 face all smiles, one hand pulling his watch from 
 his fob, and the other extended towards her. 
 She could not disturb his look of honest confi- 
 dence by saying, as she had resolved on while 
 dressing : 
 
 "Come, you two gentleman, and hear the con- 
 fession of a poor fatherless girl, before we go 
 further." 
 
 Not she, for the old man's great hand got 
 hers, and his deep tones began: 
 
 "Well, daughter, it's hardly ladies' watch on 
 deck yet, but I thought you might be early. 
 We've much to do the next few hours. With 
 true love I greet ye, my daughter. I'll use that 
 word now. God grant to bless the boy and you. 
 Yes, bless the boy and you ! " 
 
 The dear old heart, so genuine, so strong, 
 and so fatherly ! All tears in an instant, she 
 went close up and kissed him and clung to 
 him, even as he handed her along to Mark, who 
 now drew near.
 
 I5 8 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 "You will go to meet mamma with me, 
 Mark ? " she asked timidly, as he was about to 
 lead her out to view the morning from the ve- 
 randa. 
 
 " No, dearest ; I have relegated both the 
 mothers to my father. Who can resist him ? " 
 
 An hour's walking and wooing, in the glory 
 of the sunrise, in the breath and perfume of 
 leaves shining wet in dew, with glimpses through 
 tree-tops of the far-stretching lowlands, from 
 which the mists were lifting with portents to 
 this enraptured pair. 
 
 When at length they came in-doors, the old 
 captain was waiting for them by the library, 
 with the two mothers on either arm, " like a 
 tug between two ships." His hearty voice cried 
 out : 
 
 " It's all right, children. Yes, yes. I brought 
 'em round easily enough," and he laughed be- 
 tween every word. Then more gravely : 
 
 "All right, except "this going off to the wars. 
 Hem!" An instant's recurrence to that thought 
 was enough to choke his utterance. " God bless 
 ye." And he was silent. 
 
 The women made their dash at the young 
 people. There were tears and little outcries. 
 There was a sweep of white down the broad
 
 THE SOLDIERS WEDDING. 159 
 
 stair, and Miss Hardy on the scene, astonished, 
 informed, then set in the bouquet of emotion 
 somewhere, like one passion flower more. 
 
 Then there was the breakfast, which the two 
 men ate ; but the women ? The idea ! 
 
 After that the wedding fixings for the wom- 
 en's heads and hands, and the war fixings for 
 the men's-. 
 
 Mark was to be gone all the following day, 
 agreeable to his promise made to the men who 
 had informally elected him captain. When he 
 left, to drive down the mountain, it was under- 
 stood that he should engage the clergyman for 
 that day week ; but by afternoon he had tele- 
 graphed back to Eaglecroft, and got assent to 
 put it " three days away; for his men were to 
 be forwarded like a mob to help save the capi- 
 tal" 
 
 You can hardly credit me, reader, you stickler 
 for proprieties ! No ; but it was a time of war. 
 It is difficult for the swift pen to put to paper 
 the domestic events that trod upon each other's 
 heels, those days, in many a New England 
 home, usually most sedate and orderly ; swiftly, 
 yet not with confusion, and not without reason, 
 events that ordinarily consume months or even 
 years, were transpiring in hours.
 
 l6o A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 In a whirl of war times at Eaglecroft every- 
 thing went on. Unfortunate Mrs. Lane was 
 prostrated one hour and recovered the next ; on 
 the whole the shock was good for her, being 
 stimulating to self-forgetfulness. Her heart-of-oak 
 brother came hurrying up from the city the 
 next morning and promptly ranged himself, fully 
 assenting, on Laura's side. 
 
 "We will fix the farm business somehow, and 
 take care of her," meaning the widow, " between 
 us," with a roguish glance at Mark's father. 
 
 The new uniform came, and they must all 
 handle the shining sword, for in those days real 
 swords were strange toys in all hands; the 
 shoulder straps with two little bars were mys- 
 teries, and impossible to have been got with 
 such disgatch except for that man of resources, 
 the sharp recruiting agent, whom we saw at the 
 hotel. 
 
 Somehow, the prettiest wedding dress in the 
 world was fashioned; and as for the other ladies, 
 why, it was to be simply a family affair. The 
 day came, and the old clergyman from the vil- 
 lage came. The hour came and passed. They 
 were wed. It was, I remember, Monday morn- 
 ing, at eleven o'clock, and as fair a day as ever 
 was spread on the brilliant July earth.
 
 THE SOLDIERS WEDDING. 161 
 
 There was an honest attempt made, usually, 
 at those strange weddings- of '61, to be merry, 
 as all should be upon a wedding day. And 
 there was, indeed, no lack of high excitement, 
 at least, to kindle laughter and speed the happy 
 hours ; but it was quite too plain that it was 
 excitement, and not the flow of joyous spirits, 
 after all. The cloud was at hand; in an hour 
 more it would shut out the sun, do your best 
 with your obliging cheer, kind neighbors. 
 
 "I have locked the door to the library, 
 Mark," cried Mr. Hardy, shaking the key in 
 the young man's face. 
 
 The telegraph instrument was in the library. 
 Yet, the sly fellow, this same patriotic mayor 
 used that key every fifteen minutes to enter and 
 read the tape that had begun to print off nightly 
 tidings. For a time, however, he kept those 
 tidings to himself. 
 
 "I have told those musical fellers to skip all 
 national airs," said the old captain. "I thought 
 we would keep well off shore of all these war 
 troubles for one day, at least." 
 
 And the old sailor took his place in the fam- 
 ily glee with a zest that provoked- you to broad 
 laughter during the short time that he "com- 
 manded " it.
 
 1 62 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 The air was full of sweet sounds. The lawns 
 were crowded with servants, looking on through 
 the windows ; even the wood-choppers and the 
 road-menders were there, wishing this happy 
 couple well. And so ran on the time till noon. 
 One short hour. It must have been just about 
 an hour after the clergyman's last words that 
 Mr. Hardy, who had been showing evident 
 signs of uneasiness as Mark watched him, came 
 from the furtive library visit with a face so 
 grave that it could not but provoke question. 
 
 " Look here, old comrade, what's in the 
 wind ? " This from the old captain, as he seized 
 his arm. 
 
 "I must know, too," said Mark, quickly ap- 
 proaching. 
 
 "Come aside, then," was Mr. Hardy's whis- 
 pered reply. 
 
 By noon of that day came the tidings of the 
 saddest sorrow this republic had ever known. 
 That terrible Sunday at Manassas, and the 
 utter defeat of the Union arms! The capital 
 itself probably now burning! Every available 
 man to the front without an hour's delay ! 
 
 Mark sought out his wife and led her apart. 
 The dread news was given by Mr. Hardy to 
 everybody, and dispersed them into groups of
 
 THE SOLDIER'S WEDDING. 163 
 
 twos and threes. Mark held his wife's face 
 between his hands, and, kissing it over and 
 over, began to say: 
 
 "It would have been only a week or two 
 more at best, darling. You will show all these 
 people what a heroine you are. You know the 
 war gave you to me." 
 
 Laura answered not a word, but clung about 
 him helplessly for a little. Indeed, they con- 
 versed without words. She felt his thoughts ; he 
 felt her thoughts. Who but knows how it is ! 
 Who but knows what it is ! It is in the touch 
 of hands, in the pressure of the person, in the 
 silent spurn of speech. It is the heart's inter- 
 view, and not the heart's audience ; for it is 
 seeing, and not hearing. They gazed upon each 
 other's souls in rapture and in agony! 
 
 They knew this was to be the parting, for 
 before sunset Mark's company was to march out 
 from the village green to join the regiment. 
 Whatever the wife would say in secret must be 
 said now. Yet she made no explanations. Why 
 should she, being at last this one's wife? That 
 fact overwhelmed the past. All entanglements, 
 all inconsistencies in action, all fears were over- 
 laid by this supreme present. If Mark ever 
 should care to inquire, one word would satisfy
 
 1 64 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 him : " I am your wife. Whatever was between 
 me and that man matters not, since I became 
 your wife." 
 
 And he saw this by interview. He disdained 
 to recall such trifles as lovers' quarrels and girl- 
 ish freakishness. He, the husband and the hero! 
 Somehow he could only think and feel in the 
 immense and the heroic. His great errand had 
 made him great. In rare moments, once or 
 twice in a lifetime, it is given to nearly all 
 men to be great men. In those early days of 
 patriotic vehemence, debts, sorrows, looms, an- 
 vils, cases at court, aged quarrels, plans of 
 wealth, the children's schooling, everything else 
 shrunk to the size of trifles beside the vast 
 purpose : To WAR FOR THE UNION." 
 
 What wonder, then, if, from his high summit, 
 the husband-hero looked with contempt upon the 
 trash of jealousies and heart-burnings with which 
 he had distracted himself on the Smiles' ac- 
 count? All that was "before the war," a 
 phrase to be long used in this land. All that 
 was before he became a man or she a woman; 
 before he became a husband or she a wife; be- 
 fore he became a hero or she a heroine. 
 Heaven bless her! How he trusted her, and 
 trusted Heaven with her safe-keeping.
 
 THE SOLDIER'S WEDDING. 165 
 
 And then, too, they both believed the world 
 had changed. This is always the outlook from 
 the wedding-day windows, but especially wedding 
 days of '6 1. 
 
 Laura spoke of it, remarking: 
 
 " Do you really believe, Mark, that this great 
 war is going to change the hearts of all the 
 people about us, and make them as kind as 
 as charitable, if you please as they all seem 
 to us now ? " 
 
 " Or, is this the out-look from wedding-day 
 windows always-?" he replied, smilingly supplying 
 her suppressed alternative. 
 
 "Yes, especially wedding-days in times of war. 
 Can the selfish world be trusted to keep its 
 fair promises to you soldiers? Will the present 
 admiration of the hero guard all the hero's pos- 
 sessions ? " 
 
 " What harm can the world do us ? " 
 
 " I wonder how your social world will look 
 on me, when I go down to the city with 
 you?" 
 
 "Why, with royal welcome, of course. Indeed, 
 they had better!" his worshipful gaze changing 
 into a defiant one. 
 
 "All your church people, for instance," feel- 
 ing her way back to the miserable theme of
 
 1 66 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 * 
 
 her supposed, her acknowledged, religious incom- 
 patibility. 
 
 "My dear girl," with affectionate decision, "I 
 will hear no more of that. You are a believer! 
 And somehow, you trembling thing, I am confi- 
 dent that creatures of the Smiles genus will 
 never cross our path nor crawl into our sight 
 again." 
 
 "At any rate," she resumed, after a brooding 
 silence, "we two have but one sorrow for this 
 hour, the sorrow of parting." 
 
 "And even that is thrilling. We have a great 
 double joy; that we have been wed these three 
 hours, and are of high rank among God's 
 earthly servants because we suffer so keenly for 
 the sake of serving." 
 
 They sat, trembling with rapture and with 
 grief, upon the broad veranda, whence the white 
 tents of the camp far down in the valley could 
 be seen ; sat, left to themselves, till the carriage 
 should make haste for the drive down the 
 mountain. 
 
 They sat in prayer, withal, towards the last, 
 and she suggested it; or rather she, observing 
 his closed eyes, through which a tear was at 
 length struggling, softly whispered : 
 
 "Let me hear you, dearest. It will teach me 
 how."
 
 THE SOLDIER'S WEDDING. 
 
 If a pang struck through him at the thought 
 that it might more properly have been the 
 other way, that a man's wife should have been 
 his teacher in approach to the throne of infinite 
 mercy, he hid the pain and tightened his large 
 hand upon her small one, and spoke his petition 
 to the Universal Father. The low murmur of 
 the manly voice, trembling with the tenderness 
 of youth's opulent emotion, lifting the two lives 
 into the protection of the Great Wing, made at 
 least the union of the two souls complete, for 
 this world. 
 
 Then the craunching of the carriage wheels 
 over the fresh gravel, drawing nigh.
 
 !68 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 VIII. 
 OFF TO THE FRONT. 
 
 /-pHE bells! The bells! The bells of Beth- 
 -*- lehem ! 
 
 As the colts which Mark drove flew along 
 the country road, which ended in the main 
 street of the village, they pricked ears to the 
 strange ringing of the bells. The driver and his 
 bride remarked upon the bells, and their hearts 
 beat quicker for their melody. Old . Captain 
 Broon, with the other ladies of the family, fol- 
 lowing close behind, hushed his cheery conver- 
 sation the invariable sign of excitement with 
 him being a solemn speechlessness, and ordered 
 the coachman : 
 
 "Crowd on more sail, Tom! Keep close to 
 Mark ! " 
 
 Through the fine dust that swirled upward in 
 the evening red of a sundown deeply tinted ; 
 through the "Indian file" of pedestrians that 
 from a hundred farms lined the roadway, and 
 skurried out to let them pass ; through vehicles
 
 OFF TO THE FRONT. 
 
 of every kind that, loaded with old men and 
 women and children, filled the winding path be- 
 tween the stone walls, green with wild vines; on 
 they bowled, and .to the music of the bells. 
 
 The bells that called to worship yesterday, 
 and every Sunday since they were first hung 
 in those New England steeples, this day, for 
 the first time, called to war. In New England 
 villages all the church bells do make this ex- 
 ception : they ring hi case of fire. But this 
 was not the fire-bell note. The same bells also 
 toll at every villager's death, and tell his age. 
 But this was not the death bell. They ring, 
 indeed, on the morning of the Fourth of July. 
 But this was not the note of Independence 
 Day. They ring for the worship of God in 
 Sabbath's holy calm ; and there is, to the Yan- 
 kee born, no sweeter melody than the tranquil 
 ringing of the old "first bells, at nine o'clock;" 
 a music, wind-borne over meadow and glassy 
 stream, over hill farms, upland pastures, mingled 
 with the diapason of forest trees, echoed from 
 the blue mountains. JBut the bells of this July 
 evening were not calling to the house of prayer. 
 Their note and clamor were indescribable. They 
 mingled all their former tidings in tidings new. 
 Not a ringer knew that he pulled a tocsin.
 
 A WEDDIh-G IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 But what else could he pull, his heart beating 
 tocsin as he sweated by the great doors of 
 the church this summer night ? Fire, Death, 
 the Fourth, Worship ! Ah, who can forget how 
 the bells used to ring when "our company" 
 marched away ! 
 
 The village in holiday attire for that which 
 was not a holiday. Not many flags. Haste, ye 
 shuttles ! Weave flags enough for us and the 
 generation before us, for we have no flags. 
 Meanwhile hang we red and white and blue in 
 shapes so vulgar that we laugh as we cheer 
 them, passing the window. Then we grow 
 hushed because of the aged face all tears at 
 the window; the face gazing down the street 
 whither the decrepit feet could not follow the 
 young feet that have just passed out at the 
 gate. 
 
 Reader, you and Mark Broon and his bride 
 of these four hours, and all that hied along, 
 and I, saw frequent sights to damp our cheeks. 
 
 On thresholds of the villagers' peaceful homes, 
 the man and his sire, the man and his babe, 
 for crutch and cradle could not go to the 
 Green. 
 
 The lovers, man and maid, beneath the old 
 trysting maple, secreted, yet seen.
 
 OFF TO THE FRONT. 171 
 
 The invalid wife, with marble cheek, against 
 her good man's cheek of bronze ; the pet hound 
 that leaped after his young master, and made 
 mournful notes as he lay down to his chain. 
 
 The boy-soldier himself, knowing and yet not 
 knowing what all this meant, as he, so smartly 
 dressed in regimentals, paused and turned with 
 one last look at the tree and trellis, at the 
 gable with his chamber dormer, at the hoe, the 
 plow, the harvest-cart, and then at the musket 
 in his white-gloved clutch, which reminded him 
 to march away. 
 
 "Three cheers for Captain Broon!" 
 
 If it was three, it was three hundred that 
 Mark and Laura had heard since they turned 
 the corner and began to slowly cross the open 
 space that formed the Green. The horses trod 
 softly, for the people were many. It was here 
 that the tents had stood these last few days ; 
 tents that are packed in yonder cars this hour 
 now, and the engine pants impatiently for the 
 living remnant of its load. 
 
 Here is high confusion waiting for the order 
 which this young officer has come to ordain. 
 Just now he sits and looks at this running to 
 and fro; this bundling of treasures in small 
 compass and hiding them in knapsacks ; this
 
 1/2 
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 darting about of messengers, who are children 
 and boys and women, with the last little dis- 
 patches and freights from home and to home; 
 this clasping of hands and clinging upon necks ; 
 this vowing and laughing, vowing and weeping. 
 The young commander sits yet in his vehicle 
 his groom by the colts, and leans forward, not 
 in West Point form, on the hilt of his new 
 sword, while his wife toys with the belt and sash ; 
 sits very thoughtfully, not only seeing, but hear- 
 ing all these patriotic sounds, and over all the 
 wild, glad ringing of the bells. 
 
 At the head of the Green stands the church. 
 Its old white front is topped by a steeple, 
 which bears a clock. The tongue in its throat 
 is to keep up this unclocklike clangor till the 
 finger on its face marks the hour. Capt. Broon 
 compares his watch with the clock, and turns 
 to say: 
 
 "It is time, Laura," 
 
 He put out his hand for the trappings which 
 she held, and in doing so caught her two hands 
 for a moment. Their eyes met. She attempted 
 to speak, but the trembling lips curled helplessly 
 and in silence her lashes fell. O Heaven, the 
 women ! the women ! How calm they often 
 were outwardly, the day "the boys marched
 
 OFF TO THE FRONT. 
 
 away!" But, Heaven, on what tempests of un- 
 rest didst Thou look when these women' were 
 alone ! 
 
 With a spring Mark Broon was standing on 
 the ground and buckling on his accoutrements. 
 
 "No, no, papa," eagerly cried Laura, as Mark's 
 father came quickly to cheer her. "Help me to 
 get down, please. I am all courage now. I 
 want to tie his sash." 
 
 And she and a thousand other wives, in pro- 
 saic '61, did literally belt their knights for holy 
 war, as in the days of chivalry. She was pass- 
 ing lovely as she did it, too, bending in grace, 
 touching with tasteful fingers this gear of pa- 
 rade, and all red and white by turns, regarding 
 bow and tassel with arched movements of her 
 neck. Lovely, so that the neighboring women 
 forgot for the nonce their sorrows to gaze upon 
 her, and to whisper: 
 
 "The captain's wife." 
 
 "Yes, and a bride." 
 
 "The bride of to-day!" 
 
 "How can he leave her?" 
 
 "How ? " And the speaker, a matron of 
 forty, with a babe at her breast, flashed fire in 
 her dark eyes. "How? How, think you, my 
 Enoch goes and leaves us six? My Enoch for 
 twenty years 1 "
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 And now Laura had rest from her heartache 
 in her pride. She stood insensible of her 
 mother's caresses, the kisses and tears of sweet 
 Maud Hardy, and the other Mrs.' Broon's tender 
 words ; all of whom, with the old captain, clus- 
 tered about her. But gazing only on her hus- 
 band, now advancing towards his men, she was 
 comforted in a most restful and pure admiration 
 of him. She gloried in him! She delighted in 
 every line of his martial figure as he stood 
 alone some paces before the men, as yet un- 
 formed. She foresaw him colonel of a regiment, 
 a general, a great general, and the country's 
 idol ! It was a thrilling dream. There were 
 many such poetesses those days. She started 
 at the silence as the bells now ceased to ring, 
 and waited, with a curious trembling, for him to 
 speak the sharp word of command. 
 
 " Attention, company ! " 
 
 The hundred militiamen heard it. The ten 
 hundred spectators heard it, clear, startling, and 
 stilling every chattering tongue. How absolute 
 the order seemed! It was consummation. It 
 was reality at last. Thus and so sharply ended 
 this picnic, this play-day at soldiering on the 
 greensward of the village. There were many who 
 had said it "would never come to this;" but
 
 OFF TO THE FRONT, 175 
 
 it had. As for Mark, he felt that with that 
 opening of his lips he began the war; and for 
 this valley he did. 
 
 "Fall in!" 
 
 The bustling sergeant dressed his men in 
 line. 
 
 Strangely serious, as it had never seemed be- 
 fore on any "June training," or other day of 
 mimic parade, sound now the crisp orders of 
 the manual of arms; for this was sober reality. 
 There was conscience in every movement. And 
 when did Aldershot or Champs de 'Mars ever 
 furnish such conscience in the spectator faces 
 round about review ? 
 
 The people drew the circle of their presence 
 in; they were near enough almost to touch the 
 officers. But they needed no police to keep the 
 decorous peace. The very children, perched on 
 shoulders of the wife and grandsire, held their 
 tongues. No cheers resounded. The border ma- 
 ples ceased to whisper, for the breeze died with 
 the sun. Under the leaves, aslant, the red ray 
 shot its parting glory, and flashed on the bayo- 
 nets of the soldiers and brass of the musicians, 
 while making the men's shadows into a giant 
 troop upon the distant turf. 
 
 The aged pastor, the old Emeritus, bared his
 
 I7 6 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME, 
 
 head and took his place at Mark's side. The 
 prayer was not loud; but who failed to hear its 
 every throbbing syllable? It was not long; but 
 what did it leave unsaid? For hearts were so 
 one that the slightest word meant volumes of 
 the great thoughts with which each breast was 
 filled. Once the old man paused, as deep emo- 
 tion choked his utterance. It was not when he 
 invoked God's blessing on the men, nor when 
 he spoke of loved ones left at home; nor when 
 he asked for a shield from bullets and fevers, 
 from fears and temptations ; nor yet when he 
 tenderly petitioned that these returning safe 
 should find no death-emptied chair nor cradle at 
 the fireside, for we never dreamed that the 
 child would outgrow the cradle ere this sad busi- 
 ness was done. No ; the white-haired pastor 
 stumbled in his prayer and paused, with great 
 tears coursing down his jocund cheeks, when he 
 told Heaven of the father-land, and attempted 
 to speak of the "dear old flag." Strange that 
 it was so; yet it was. 
 
 In those days men used to kiss the flag; 
 used to stop and look up at it, laid out 
 against the New England hills and sky, and 
 find their hot eyes cooled with sudden dews, 
 they could not tell just why. The flag was
 
 OFP TO THE FRONT. 
 
 everywhere in sight before long, we so hungered 
 for it. It seemed to spring up like the green 
 sprouts upon corn-hills, as if it were a growth 
 of nature, that summer. You remember it, 
 brother, as you looked out from some high fore- 
 land over a wide landscape, "the flag" every- 
 where, everywhere, peeping and flashing near 
 and far through the foliage and against the pur- 
 ple hills. 
 
 As the preacher sought to give this sentiment 
 tongue, he could no more than name it. There 
 was a universal sob! It was the heart-throe of 
 these hundreds. It was sublime. It was terri- 
 ble. It was new. God helped us to a certain 
 habitude as months passed, or we should have 
 died of this awful emotion too oft repeated ere 
 the five long years passed away, 
 
 "Amen!" 
 
 That was the way he left it. Abruptly: 
 "Amen!" In 'an instant Capt. Broon's command 
 rescued us. 
 
 "Attention, company! Shoulder arms!" 
 
 Laura wondered how he could get voice for 
 it, and she could scarce restrain herself from 
 flying at him with one more eager embrace. 
 
 "Not so, daughter," said the old sea captain, 
 putting his arms about her and kissing her, bus
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME, 
 
 ruddy face damp with weeping. "Not so. No 
 doubt you have had your good-bye, child. I 
 gave you my hour with him, up on the veranda. 
 Now he goes. See! Isn't he a splendid boy?" 
 
 The band struck up the music of a march. 
 Was ever such a band? Mark's pocket had pro- 
 vided for the throwing together of pieces for 
 "the band" for just this emergency. The 
 throng parted for their advance. The order 
 rang, and they began the long campaign amid 
 cheers that drowned all sobs. It was the revul- 
 sion of feeling, the sight of rhythmic movement, 
 and the martial strains that inspired and made 
 possible such hurrahs. There was such a lusty 
 uproar from these rural throats, and given with 
 breath after breath in this invigorating air, as 
 would make the cheer of city crowds seem piping 
 treble. It was a good round cheer on cheer, and 
 not a yell. This afterwards became a historic 
 difference upon the battlefield. The North roared 
 their hurrahs; the South yelled theirs. 
 
 Laura sat in her husband's vehicle, with the 
 groom doing his best to keep the colts in 
 order, driven as they now were as close in upon 
 the train as was possible. Old Capt. Broon, in 
 the dray with the other ladies, was also per- 
 mitted to urge his team into the dense throng 
 that filled the depot yard.
 
 OFF TO THE: FRONT. 
 
 The last of the line had filed into the cars. 
 The instrumental music had ceased, and "the 
 boys" were singing, in a sort - of desperate, 
 wild way, what might or might not have been 
 "Hail Columbia." Young Capt. Broon stood 
 alone upon the platform, with the point of his 
 new sword pecked into the planking under his 
 feet, like a walking stick, no doubt awkwardly, 
 looking the while at that bright lady, his wife 
 these five hours. He saw no one else; she saw 
 no one else. He forgot, for the moment, that 
 he was a soldier; but she did not; she would 
 have died if. she had forgotten that. Her only 
 refuge was in remembering that patriotic fact. 
 
 " How grand he is ! How heroic he is ! He 
 goes to save the Union. He is a soldier, and 
 I am a soldier's wife. I will smile, I will be 
 all good cheer. He shall remember me so." 
 
 And from the tips of her white fingers she 
 gave him fond love with brave adieu. 
 
 But he mounted the car steps as the train 
 moved away, as if, of a sudden, his feet 
 weighed each a ton. 
 
 There is this difference between man and 
 woman : his heart fell then, but beat high again 
 an hour after; her heart beat high then, but 
 fell for many, many hours after.
 
 ISO A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 IX. 
 
 HERO OR POLTROON. 
 
 /"TAHE throng was dispersing, and young Mrs. 
 * Broon's driver was about to rein out for 
 the return, the old captain shouting from his 
 carriage that it was " best to get up the moun- 
 tain before dark," when Dr. Smiles did not 
 dart the doctor glided always, where other 
 men would dart or step out boldly, but glided 
 to the side of the dray, with : 
 
 " Ah, my d-e-a-r Mrs. Lane ! A most unex- 
 pected pleasure." At the the same time taking 
 up that lady's hand before she could raise it 
 from her lap. 
 
 " Drop anchor, Tom ! " 
 
 Laura overheard the old captain's roar to the 
 driver. 
 
 "You'll swamp the the man alongside the 
 ladies." 
 
 Laura did not need to look over her shoulder. 
 She recognized the first voice, with a shudder 
 indescribable. But the second voice was such a
 
 HERO OR POLTROON. l8i 
 
 great refuge. The smooth tones, then the 
 rough tones. The mean and the manly. The 
 very voices seemed to the young wife to grap- 
 ple with each other in the air of nightfall. 
 She knew the two speakers had never met till 
 this moment, and that it was almost too dark 
 for the old captain to read the features at the 
 carriage side. Therefore, it must have been an 
 intuitive recognition on the captain's part, or 
 else a disrelish of the doctor's voice that pro- 
 voked such severity in the old man's tones. 
 
 " Stop, coachman," Laura said promptly. 
 " Heaven hide me. What a day this ! " 
 
 Then realizing to whom she was speaking, she 
 strove to appear calm before her servant. But 
 it seemed more than the young heart could con- 
 tain. This being ensnared again, on her poor 
 mother's account, by the evil genius whom she 
 had for some hours put clean out of her 
 world ; this, after all that the day had done since 
 sunrise to thrill every sensibility of her being ! 
 
 "Oh, thank God, it is rugged captain Broon 
 who faces him this time," she thought. " How 
 often I have wished these two men could meet, 
 and the true one annihilate the false one ! But 
 this is not the place, nor the time." 
 
 She flew after Mark and nestled in his pro-
 
 jg 2 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 faction ; and then, alas, flew back again to this 
 carriage seat, where her body had been all the 
 time. 
 
 " Why, good Dr. Smiles, you here ? " 
 
 It was Mrs. Lane's quite cordial reply. Then 
 continuing, the lady introduced him all round. 
 
 " Yes, I am here," the man resumed, one 
 hand holding a spoke of the wheel, and the 
 other attempting again to get the lady's hand. 
 "You are aware that I am prospecting up 
 here for a site. I am still intending to found 
 my great Remedial Cosmopolitan, Religio-magnetic 
 Institute amid these salubrious mountains, kind 
 friends." 
 
 "Ah, doctor, still engaged in your great be- 
 nevolent work, I see," Mrs. Lane replied, be- 
 ginning to fan herself excitedly. 
 
 " Precisely thus," he answered. 
 
 Then, hoping that it was safe to do so, judg- 
 ing from the eager interest in her face, he re- 
 leased the carriage wheel and put his thumbs 
 together, rolling them in the old manner, and 
 saying : 
 
 "I supposed you must have been informed of 
 our continued tarry in the mountains by Miss 
 Laura " 
 
 " ' Miss ? ' Did you say ' Miss,' my friend ? "
 
 HERO OR POLTROON. 183 
 
 The father had so completely taken his son's 
 wife into his heart, that he was promptly jeal- 
 ous over Smiles' ignorance. 
 
 " Yes, sir. I have the honor to know this 
 lady's daughter very well. Indeed, I may say 
 she and my son " 
 
 "Your son, friend?" 
 
 The captain's good-natured roar was louder 
 than usual, for even he was now somewhat warm 
 with excitement and decidedly fretted with impa- 
 tience to be gone. Then to listen to the doc- 
 tor's last was too much. 
 
 " Your son, sir ? Why, it is my son ! He's the 
 hero, God bless him ! We have just sent the 
 boy to God only knows what. And there sits 
 his wife ! Do you know that yonder young lady 
 is my son's wife ? " 
 
 Smiles started as if he had been struck. 
 Indeed, he was struck. There was a sharp little 
 crack as Mrs. Lane's fan descended, all too fa- 
 miliarly, so others thought, on his shoulder, and 
 the lady leaned over the side of the vehicle to 
 say : 
 
 "It is true, doctor. Laura and young Mr. 
 Broon were married this very noon ! It was very 
 sudden." And she put the spread fan to her lips 
 as she presumed to add confidingly, " Come up
 
 1 84 
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 to Eaglecroft to-morro\v, and I'll tell you aL 
 about it. Do now. I shall need your professional 
 services after this day." 
 
 " Glad to see you, my friend," said the cap- 
 tain, promptly seizing the opportunity. "Glad to 
 see you any day, or the family will be, for I 
 may be away. But I see my son's wife has 
 driven off, and we you must excuse our haste 
 to get up the hill, sir, before it lowers darker." 
 
 With a bound the restless horses tore away 
 after the lighter vehicle, which was already spin- 
 ning up the village street far in front of them. 
 The old captain was the very soul of hospitality 
 and old-time politeness, always after his own 
 rough, kind fashion, and it offended his own 
 sense of propriety a little to look back, on sec- 
 ond thought, and see Dr. Smiles still standing 
 nonplused where the carriage had left him. So 
 he turned apologetically to Mrs. Lane, saying: 
 
 "Your friend will come aboard us at Eagle- 
 croft, madam, of course. You see, Laura sailed 
 off, and I wanted to keep in her wake. A 
 great doctor, you say?" 
 
 "Yes," was the faint answer. 
 
 "Oh, captain," exclaimed Madge Hardy, excit- 
 edly, "I do so hope he will not. I just think 
 him a horrid man, and his son is is Aun-
 
 HERO OR PALTROON. 
 
 tie," for the young girl caught sight of some- 
 thing in her aunt's face "forgive me, auntie. 
 We shall never agree about that that gentle- 
 man and his son. But it will never do now, 
 you yourself must know, auntie, for oh dear!" 
 
 She hid her confusion in a sudden turn 
 aside. 
 
 Captain Charles as we may designate him 
 till Captain Mark wins a higher title, if he ever 
 does looked hard at the two ladies, and mean- 
 while finally settled his own instinctive suspicions 
 of the doctor into confirmed aversion. It was 
 marvelous, the woman-like intuitions of this stout 
 old dreamer of the sea. He was so pure, so 
 true, and so unselfish himself that his recoil 
 from the reverse in character was as prompt as 
 it was just. Indeed, his friends came to regard 
 and use him like a divining rod, in business 
 and elsewhere, wherewith to read men ; while 
 his own family trusted the reflections of his 
 face, confronting strangers, like a mirror. Mrs. 
 Broon read it now in the half-lights of twilight 
 and the summer moon, and took quiet alarm on 
 Mrs. Lane's account. As for Laura, why, she 
 was beyond danger or solicitude, in the good 
 step-mother's mind, being wedded wife these six 
 hours.
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 After a long silence, which everybody observed, 
 as they began to ascend the mountain, Captain 
 Charles drew a deep breath, and said: 
 "A great doctor. Ye-a-s." 
 
 He had a peculiar way of drawling out that 
 affirmative particle thoughtfully and conclusively, 
 yet with a shade of no in it. The family always 
 interpreted the drawled yes or no. 
 
 "A religio - hyfaluten, low -rigged, fore-and-aft 
 sort of a what, did he say?" 
 
 As no one else seemed likely to answer, his 
 wife said, quietly : 
 
 "Remedial Institution, father. Let's drop the 
 subject." 
 
 "Ye-a-s. I suppose that young gentleman who 
 approached him as we left him, hull down, was 
 his son, eh, Miss Madge?" 
 
 "Do, father, let us change the subject," 
 earnestly remonstrated Mrs. Broon ; for, with a 
 woman's instinct, she read Mrs. Lane's troubled 
 and excited frame of mind. "Tom, we must 
 keep young Mrs. Broon in sight. Don't you see 
 how she flies up the mountain?" 
 
 So let her fly ; for she and you and I know 
 that it is best if, indeed, it will avail her. 
 
 No sooner had this young wife disappeared 
 from his sight, than Dr. Smiles turned and
 
 HERO OR PALTROON. 187 
 
 beckoned to Erastus. The son approached 
 promptly; and the depot being a quiet and neg- 
 lected spot now, the two sat down upon a pile 
 of railway ties. 
 
 " Married ! " 
 
 The thumbs wanted all the fingers to help 
 press, in this "press of ill fortune, and it seemed 
 difficult for once to match the finger tips just 
 to a hair. 
 
 "Married?" 
 
 " Since the sun rose ; and he's gone to these 
 noble wars, to be her hero and idol." 
 
 "I told you we should fail, -father." 
 
 Erastus bit a cigar in two and chewed the 
 fragments with his lips, not his teeth. Then 
 he said, for the doctor was saying nothing : 
 
 " I shall now get out of this vicinity and 
 this business, leaving the smart boy to the 
 spoils of his victory, if he ever gets back to 
 enjoy them." 
 
 This with a sort of desperate decision that 
 looked almost as well as a decent manly re- 
 solve. 
 
 "But you cannot get out." 
 
 The thumbs were set, and the black eyes 
 were set, too, hard on Erastus, though at a 
 side glance.
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 Erastus' lips exploded like a bomb ! 
 
 At the same time he exclaimed, starting to 
 
 his feet : 
 
 "You do not mean me to attempt plotting 
 
 with another man's wife!" 
 
 "But I mean to build my fortunes by build- 
 ing my Sanitarium. And please do not profane, 
 Erastus. One's habits in privacy become his 
 slips in public. But as regard this borrowed 
 money, and I must have money " 
 
 Then he lapsed into silence, he and his 
 thumbs. 
 
 Erastus straddled, and waited for his father to 
 resume. After a few moments he ventured to 
 ask : 
 
 "Do you see your way clear, fattier?" 
 
 "And this war business is going to make 
 widows, I calculate. This wedded maid may yet 
 be that is, the chances of war may prove one 
 man's folly and another's wisdom, eh ? " 
 
 Erastus Smiles was American born. He had 
 not mingled with this day's scenes altogether 
 unmoved. This deliberate calculation of his 
 father on the possible death of patriot soldiers 
 shocked him. 
 
 "Great Heavens, father! It would be worth 
 your life to manifest, in this vicinity, such a spirit 
 as prompted that last remark."
 
 HERO OR PALTROON. 189 
 
 "Hear me, you." 
 
 . The doctor was now on his feet and con- 
 fronting his son. Indeed, he put one of his 
 long arms on the young man's shoulder; his 
 arm, not his hand, which protruded beyond, 
 where the fingers worked in the air. He spoke 
 in very solemn accents and very deep tones ; 
 but he was none the less infuriate. 
 
 "I shall use that borrowed money. Of course 
 it was borrowed. You know that it was freely 
 loaned. Eventually it must be repaid, it seems, 
 since the only heir is not to be your wife." 
 
 " Oh, ho ! Then it was your fortunes that 
 were to be mended, and not mine to be made, 
 I see." 
 
 " Erastus, my son, you enrage me, but that 
 I school myself to keep the commandment. 
 You have never rebelled against me before. 
 I'll put you under the power of spirits, here 
 and now, if necessary." 
 
 The young man shrunk against the pile of 
 ties as if affrighted. The doctor was prompt to 
 go on, saying : 
 
 " Now it flashes on me as I talk. These enthu- 
 siastic fools, my countrymen, will see years of this 
 precious heroism. That gives me time. I, mean- 
 while, war a grander crusade against disease "
 
 190 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 "Don't put that on now, father, for we are 
 alone." 
 
 " Meanwhile," the doctor continued with shame- 
 less pretence, "I become the philanthropist of 
 these hills. That woman the mother, I mean 
 will become an inmate of my excuse me, 
 our institution. With becoming gratitude she 
 may remember her good physician in her will, 
 if she drops off. Or, if she is in our house, you 
 see, or we are in her house, any earlier pres- 
 sure for payments, if urged by relatives, would 
 not effect her. You see?" 
 
 "But this only heir, the wife of one very 
 fiery man, and daughter-in-law of another very 
 determined man, father ? " 
 
 "Ah, I welcome you again into partnership. 
 You have not then turned quite a fool, I 
 see. I feared, almost, at one time to-day that 
 you might enlist. Think that over, my boy. 
 Think that point over, about the young woman. 
 I relegate some things to you. Why, boy, I 
 recognize my own child in you again." 
 
 Erastus was glad it was now the full obscu- 
 rity of night, else those sharp eyes must have 
 read the weary disgust which unbent for a mo- 
 ment his young face. The thought that "a 
 father could so relentlessly debauch his own
 
 HERO OR PALTROON. 
 
 191 
 
 child. He would make me as much his child in 
 spirit as I am in the flesh. Here and now, then, 
 I must close my last door of escape back to 
 decency." 
 
 But quickly suspicious at the son's silence, 
 the sire asked abruptly : 
 
 "Do you see your way clear in any degree, 
 my son?" 
 
 "It is a perilous road, sir," very gravely. 
 
 " Not perilous, but somewhat ticklish. You 
 are particularly to note who are to be my pa- 
 trons. I seek religious patronage, as I always 
 have. All clergymen will be admitted to our 
 establishment upon the most favorable, indeed, I 
 may say, merely nominal terms. We shall put 
 ourselves above suspicion by the cultivation of 
 the most proper patronage, as I said. How many, 
 many there are, in these great cities sit down 
 again, Erastus, and I'll tell you my plans, how 
 many world-weary people are tired of the hilar- 
 ities of the world's watering places ! Ah, me ! 
 My generous purpose shall serve them. There 
 shall be no card-playing, for instance. How is 
 that for a card, eh ? " 
 
 " That's what it is, father ; for you have no 
 conscience about the game of cards," replied 
 Erastus, fairly amused by the suggestion as com- 
 ing from such a source.
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 "And, then, no dancing in the parlors." 
 
 " What ? " 
 
 Erastus gave one short laugh in spite of him- 
 
 self. 
 
 "Why, no dancing, I said. We will put a 
 pipe organ, a regular church music affair, into 
 that alcove at the end of the south parlor. I've 
 arranged it all in mind, you see. There'll be no 
 dancing to such music, and no questions asked. 
 Not a piano in the house, sir, nor a horn, nor 
 a fiddle. Then I will be saved all questions." 
 
 "But, doctor, where did you get all these 
 notions ? These are not your sentiments." 
 
 " No ; it's other people's sentiments I'm con- 
 sulting, at four dollars a day, you see. Why, 
 I thought you knew me better. But I forgot 
 that your mother has had the handling of you, 
 as of the other children. I now take you into 
 partnership ; you are old enough." 
 
 This hideous process of a child's debauching 
 was not offensive to the old man. It is not to 
 the very, very sharp banker who initiates his son 
 into the dubious methods of the house; nor to 
 the unscrupulous merchant who whispers for the 
 first time the questionable secrets of the trade 
 to his son, just made a partner, and whose ver- 
 dant honesty must be checked in season ; nor
 
 HERO OR PALTROON. 193 
 
 yet to the decidedly hard manufacturer, who has 
 read in his son's face, for a year past, a detec- 
 tion of paternal extortions and methods not ac- 
 cordant with the teachings of the Sunday-school, 
 and which the father thinks best now to con- 
 fess without defending. Let the young man make 
 the most of it. All this wretched business is 
 familiar in certain quarters. A bad man knows 
 well enough when his child detects him ; indeed, 
 knew all along that the child would sometime 
 find out just the man his father really was. A 
 bad man accepts this shame as part of his moral 
 bankruptcy. Frequently, as in this case, he 
 makes a desperate virtue of necessity, and selects 
 one of his sons as his successor, relegating the 
 other children to a good mother's shaping. The 
 final process of paternal and formal initiation is, 
 however, a fearful ordeal to the child. 
 
 " Frankly instructed in cold, deliberate selfish 
 ness, fraud, stinginess, greed or charlatanry, and 
 by father!" 
 
 Many times had this thought broken out in 
 audible soliloquy from Erastus Smiles' lips. 
 
 " Promoted to be father's lieutenant in lying 
 manoeuvres and mean stratagems for other men's 
 hurt, and the family's enriching!" 
 
 And that, too, not in the vulgar strata of Bax-
 
 194 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 ter street, but in the best circles of Murray 
 Hill, Beacon Hill, Chestnut Hill, and other Pala- 
 tine hills, done by hypocrites who give in church 
 and steal by the million on change ; who bribe 
 courts and purchase legislators ; who throw a sop 
 to a college and hoodwink the good men of the 
 missionary society; and who, growing weary, wish 
 a confidant, growing old, wish a successor, 
 and take one of their sons. 
 
 Fearful, heart-breaking, unendurable induction 
 this, if sudden, which it generally is not, the 
 boy having had his suspicions all along. Yet, at 
 the best, most trying ; as now, to Erastus 
 Smiles, whom the reader would not have judged 
 exceeding fine-grained. 
 
 Indeed, the young fellow sunk down beside 
 his father, in the gloom of night, as if he had 
 fallen into a bottomless pit. That he was amused, 
 was his salvation that he did not go mad ; and 
 his laughter over his father's hypocrisy was 
 moreover the sign of desperate surrender to be 
 an evil-minded man. 
 
 "Yes, Erastus," the doctor proceeded, "no 
 cards, no billiards, no dancing, no croquet " 
 
 "Oh, ho!" 
 
 "No smoking " 
 
 Erastus shouted till the echo from the black
 
 HERO OR PALTROON. 
 
 depot gable flew back and slapped them in the 
 face. 
 
 "Then I suppose, locking the office door at 
 times, you'll lie on your back, dear father, on 
 the floor, and smoke up the grate. Why, you 
 inveterate smoker, you'll die ! " 
 
 " Erastus, don't be a fool ! It's other people's 
 smoking I'm forbidding, at four dollars per diem. 
 Ah, the dear patients who cannot bear smoking! 
 I entrap you! I make a paradise for you. We 
 post this up on the walls ; we print it in cir- 
 culars along with the proper specification that 
 no guests will be expected to arrive or depart 
 on the Sabbath." 
 
 Erastus did not laugh at this last. He hid 
 his face in his hands. The father knew what 
 was in the boy's mind. It was the picture of 
 mother, a gentle, Christian soul, a lover of " the 
 Lord's day," of whose sacredness ' she was ever 
 whispering to her children. 
 
 " And no liquors ! " the doctor added. 
 
 Then turning to Erastus, who still preserved 
 his bowed silence, he asked : 
 
 "What's the matter, my son.? Wouldn't that 
 please her ? " 
 
 The s'on fairly groaned. 
 
 "Yes, father; that is her line, only she goes 
 so much beyond in her preaching ! "
 
 196 
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 Then turning sharply about, the son put his 
 hand on his father's knee and added, with great 
 
 fervency : 
 
 " Oh, ray father, is not she a noble soul ? 
 Mother ! Why, she is like a clean sunbeam fall- 
 ing down upon a mud heap, such as as I 
 am. When I think of her, sir, I know there 
 must be a good God from whom she came, 
 and a pure religion of the Christ, for she has 
 it in her soul ; and a true church of which she 
 at least is a member " 
 
 " Am I not also a member ? " asked this man, 
 imperturbably. 
 
 " Don't, father ! Spare me ! I cannot go with 
 you any further to-night. Why, I have seen 
 the time, sir, when I have given a boyish blow to 
 the fellow who charged you with a mercenary use 
 of your church membership. But now you frankly 
 number it among your assets in this business ! " 
 
 " Erastus," the doctor got to his feet and 
 coolly studied his watch by the moon mean- 
 while, "we will leave it all till after we have 
 slept. Why, it is eleven o'clock. The soldier-boy 
 is far on his way. .You will get courage to go on 
 your way by the morning. Indeed, there is no 
 such thing as getting out of the way, child 
 You and I are partners."
 
 HERO OR PALTROON. 
 
 The speaker lighted a fresh cigar, and walked 
 on by the young man's side towards the hotel. 
 
 " Smoke ? " he asked, opening his case. 
 
 " No, thank you, sir." 
 
 Then after a few moments' silence : 
 
 " Father, do you know how sometimes, by 
 way of of " he hardly ventured to say "con- 
 trast," " of memory, I suppose, merely to men- 
 tion mother controls me ? What I mean is, for 
 instance, the idea of a cigar, even, which she 
 abominates, seems to me abominable. Dancing, 
 cards, the sanctity of Sabbath : I know how 
 conscientious she is on all these things; she 
 believes they hurt and dissuade young people 
 from the practice of pure religion undefiled. 
 Father ! Father ! Believe me ; there are times 
 when her gentle purity, so linked in with deeds 
 of pity to the poor and charity for all sinners, 
 offers a blessed tyranny even in things non-es- 
 sential over my poor soiil and body. I would to 
 God Almighty I were such a son as she would 
 have me ! " 
 
 Unbroken silence was the reply. 
 
 " You will forgive me, sir, if I grow bold," 
 resumed the son. " I do not forget that you are 
 my father, and as long as a child lives, she 
 herself has taught me how I should try to 
 honor you."
 
 198 
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 "Try to?" 
 
 It crackled forth, but nothing more than that 
 echo. 
 
 "Yes, sir. My clear, dear sir. May I say this 
 one last word, that I have never said before ? 
 Father, stop ! " 
 
 They came to a pause in the dark roadway. 
 
 "What do you suppose is in mother's heart, 
 as her God reads its sadness, when she thinks 
 of your way of getting a living ? " 
 
 With his cold smile : 
 
 " Erastus, most men of my stripe manage to 
 get angels for wives." 
 
 Erastus caught his breath, then he stammered 
 out : 
 
 "And what do these angels do?" 
 
 "They enjoy this life by praying for our safe 
 and eternal continuance, strange to say," puffing 
 a cloud towards the clouds. 
 
 " Father ! " 
 
 " Erastus," said the doctor, laying his straight- 
 ened arm on his son's shoulder and working 
 the fingers, " I love your mother devotedly. I 
 have just paid fifteen hundred dollars for her 
 new coupe 1 lined in maroon satin. I enjoy im- 
 agining how she will look in it. Good night. 
 Go to bed. I'll sit down and finish my cigar."
 
 HERO OR PALTROON. 
 
 199 
 
 He suited action to words, throwing himself 
 on the settee of the hotel veranda. The young 
 man went to his room. 
 
 "I think he'll swing into line," ruminated the 
 doctor, and talking to the shadows of the sum- 
 mer midnight. " I think so. But there's more 
 of this folly which is called manly honor to the 
 boy than I supposed. He seems to be chang- 
 ing. These good mothers ! there's no measure- 
 ment to their influence. They grip an affection- 
 ate boy hard."
 
 2 0o ^ WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 X. 
 
 THE BRIDE'S CONFESSION. 
 
 WHEN Laura Broon awoke the next 
 morning, her eyes wandered around the 
 splendid apartment which the young owner had 
 chosen as his own. The windows faced the sun- 
 rise and the towering masses which constitute 
 Mt. Washington. In a chamber upon a moun- 
 tain - top, where the day - break would awaken 
 a sleeper early and thoroughly, you would say, 
 yet the lady seemed to ' fferself in dream-land. 
 She gazed hard at the rifles and fishing-tackle 
 in one corner, at the long riding boots in 
 another corner, at the patent bit and a shoe of 
 a favorite mare hung over the gas-jet, at pic- 
 tures of her husband's gentlemen friends on the 
 mantle, and then at her own photograph in a 
 place of honor. 
 
 The look about the room was the slow dawn- 
 ing of the new life which the young girl had 
 now entered upon and must try to realize. The 
 events of yesterday were but a confused mass
 
 THE BRIDE'S CONFESSION. 2 OI 
 
 of swift memories. That sudden telegram at 
 noon ; the hurried robing for a soldier's wedding ; 
 the fond farewell interview with her husband 
 on the veranda below; the flight down the 
 mountain and his eager patriotic going forth 
 for country, all in half a transit of the summer's 
 sun. 
 
 For a moment or two, this morning, she was 
 almost piqued that he could have been so ardent 
 for country as to choose it before her. Pres- 
 ently, however, she saw another side ot the 
 picture and began to feel the flush of patriotism 
 herself kindling from the embers of yesterday. 
 Then she fell a dreaming about her lover- 
 husband's whereabouts that very moment, and, 
 dwelling on his truth *and manliness and love 
 for her, she soon got the temper for a woman's 
 "crying spell, "that blessing denied to man. 
 
 Rising now and dressing, she seemed to look 
 the New Life full in the face, as she saw her- 
 self arranging her hair at the mirror that never 
 reflected her face before. 
 
 "It was curious," she said to the face in 
 the mirror, " that Captain Charles should have 
 insisted on my coming into this room, now, 
 wasn't it? What did he say about my being 
 mistress of the establishment, and finding all the
 
 20 2 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 call-bells here ? Yes, there they are," and she 
 turned her about to read the names, " HOUSE- 
 KEEPER," "CHAMBERMAIDS," etc., written over 
 them. 
 
 " But then, I know they were never used yet. 
 Mark's mother has been at the head of the 
 house. Why, I'm afraid of them." 
 
 She stepped over and put out her pretty 
 ringers towards the knobs as yet never used. 
 Then she flew back again to her winding of the 
 long thick braids of her hair before the image 
 of the New Life in the" mirror. 
 
 The cheeks of the New Life were very much 
 flushed, she saw, and its white arms trembled. 
 Evidently the New Life was deeply concerned 
 about many things. She spoke to it again. 
 
 "Very curious, or very old fashioned, was it 
 not, that the old captain should have directed, 
 so matter-of-course, that I was to be shown 
 to Mark's room ? 
 
 The New Life nodded its head. 
 
 "Or, was it to do me honor beyond measure, 
 and before everyone, at the very beginning ? " 
 
 The New Life put its hands down from its 
 head and again assented. 
 
 " Or, was it done in the desperate loneliness 
 of his dear old heart, that couldn't endure the 
 room empty ? "
 
 THE BRIDE'S CONFESSION. 203 
 
 The New Life was uncertain. It gazed hard 
 at her, and its eyes began to fill again with 
 tears ; its hand rapped the brush sharply on the 
 marble, and suddenly with energy demanded : 
 
 " Are you his wife ? Mark Broon's, Captain 
 Mark Broon's wife ? " 
 
 There must have been pretty and proud as- 
 sertion in the speaker's face as she stood piercing 
 the New Life through with the glances, the 
 tears drying in the gaze. At all events the New 
 Life asserted it. 
 
 "Now you are certain," after a little she re- 
 sumed to the image, her toilet having received 
 its last deliberate touches, "certain that there 
 was nothing suspicious in Captain Charles sepa 
 rating Madge Hardy and me, asking Madge to be 
 a good daughter to mamma? Captain Charles 
 can read mamma : he can read anyone. He 
 would not, now, would he ? Suppose it was de- 
 sirable to prevent collision between poor foolish 
 mamma, inviting that bad doctor here, and me, 
 his son's wife ! " 
 
 The New Life was greatly troubled, and 
 seemed to recede from view at the very mention 
 of the doctor's name. Laura sat down by her- 
 self before the wide windows. The silence of 
 the great house indicated late slumber on the
 
 204 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 part of the other occupants. She came to a 
 prompt decision upon two earliest duties with 
 which to accompany the New Life down stairs. 
 She would first seek her mother, and prevent 
 absolutely any hospitality to Dr. Smiles and his 
 son. She would go frankly to her husband's father, 
 and, at any length he might desire, explain all 
 her unfortunate previous association, and her 
 mother's, both with Erastus Smiles and his 
 father. 
 
 Suiting action to word, Laura resolutely 
 marched into the hall and towards her mother's 
 chamber. Upon second thought, the very early 
 hour occurred to her, and she consumed the 
 time in maturing her message as she walked 
 softly back and forth. 
 
 After a while she entered Mrs. Lane's room, 
 and affectionately saluting her cousin, she sat 
 down on the bed beside her mother, stroking 
 her forehead and beginning very resolutely : 
 
 " Mamma dear, Eaglecroft, which is now my 
 own home, you know," and she had to stop 
 right here to shower more kisses on the poor 
 pale face " Eaglecroft air is better for you than 
 all the doctors. You will be dining with us, 
 with wonderful appetite, this noon. It's real 
 old fashioned dinner at mid-day. But, mamma,
 
 THE BRIDE^S CONFESSION. 205 
 
 what I want to say most, and must say, I, the 
 mistress of this house," and she laughed prettily 
 enough, though not quite naturally, at the same 
 time pressing her forefinger on her mother's 
 chin, and asking, "Why don't you laugh, mam- 
 ma? I, the mistress of this house, wish to say 
 that Dr. Smiles must not come over the "WEL- 
 COME" woven on the front-hall mat ! There ! " 
 
 She was a good mind to cry, the next in- 
 stant, at the thought of having virtually issued 
 actual and peremptory commands to her mother ; 
 but then she bethought her of the really seri- 
 ous import of the whole business, and concluded 
 that the New Life must n't cry here. 
 
 To her inexpressible relief, Mrs. Lane instantly 
 responded, in faint tones : 
 
 "Of course not, my dear child. I fully under- 
 stand your position, and am not so foolish as to 
 wreck, or even imperil, the happiness of my only 
 child." 
 
 A perfect surprise! When they had taken a 
 moment to realize it, the enthusiasm of the two 
 young girls, the merry shout of Madge Hardy 
 as she danced about the room, the radiant grati- 
 tude which Laura's overbending face poured 
 down on her mother, drove all serious business 
 out of that room for a time.
 
 206 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 As soon as she could get a hearing, Mrs. 
 Lane added : 
 
 "You see, girls, that I freely confess to a 
 mystical power of the unseen world which that 
 man is always able to exert over me when in 
 his presence." 
 
 "But but, mamma dear, it is only when in 
 his presence," exclaimed Laura. "And now, 
 then, when he attempts to call to-day, or at 
 any time, let Captain Broon meet him, while 
 we- excuse ourselves. What care we if it seem 
 rude? One cannot be rude, no matter how per- 
 emptory, with such a man." 
 
 " Such a man, indeed ! " put in Madge Hardy. 
 How withering can a delicate and refined woman 
 make that phrase. " Such a man ! " A ton trip- 
 hammer could not more surely annihilate the 
 wretch. 
 
 Laura looked her thanks to her pretty cousin, 
 and promptly resumed: 
 
 "And now, little mother, I must refer that 
 question of the borrowed money " 
 
 "Hush! Are we certain that we loaned 
 money? Actually loaned any?" 
 
 The widow's gaze, under her hand, which she 
 placed edgewise, as a shield above her peering 
 eyes, was utterly miserable in its confusion.
 
 THE BRIDE'S CONFESSION. 207 
 
 She arched her neck as if, through the open 
 window, seeking to descry the distant farm-house 
 down in the morning-flooded valley. 
 
 " The fog has not yet lifted, mamma," said 
 Laura, divining her mother's thoughts. " I could 
 not see the old home, though I tried as soon 
 as I awoke. But you may be sure it is stand- 
 ing there. He has not stolen it yet. And, 
 mamma dear, if you cannot quite recollect just 
 what we said and did, whether we signed any 
 papers or not, is not that very confusion an 
 added reason why we should instantly have the 
 help of a clear, strong masculine mind? Men 
 know so much more than we do." 
 
 "Ah, indeed, you charming married woman!" 
 exclaimed Madge Hardy, roguishly. 
 
 "Well, about business, men do, I mean," re- 
 plied Laura, blushing. "And, Madge, you may 
 as well know all about it, too, this entanglement 
 of ours; the more who know such dark tricks 
 the better," which had the effect of keeping 
 the chatterbox quiet for a moment, though 
 Laura did not proceed to gratify her cousin's 
 curiosity at once, but addressed herself anew to 
 the task of convincing her mother of the pro- 
 priety and need of confiding in Captain Broon, 
 her father-in-law.
 
 208 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 "But you will make him despise me, my 
 child," the elder lady protested. "You know 
 what an orthodox he is. Why, the very thought 
 of these strange isms, as he called them the 
 other evening, you remember, nearly made the 
 dear old gentleman forget his manners. And I 
 still think he sullied his hospitality a little in 
 his outbreak over my simple remark. Haven't 
 I," and she actually raised herself on her elbow, 
 "as good a right to my religious opinions as he 
 has to his?" 
 
 "Religious opinions, indeed!" thought Madge 
 Hardy, her kind commiseration showing in her 
 face, though she said nothing. 
 
 What could surpass the obdurate contempt 
 with which a bred - in - the-bone child of " the 
 standing order," the old historic Puritan church 
 of New England, regarded every other belief ? 
 Of unreasoning, yet not contrary to reason, if 
 uninquiring; yet received on ancient testimony 
 perfectly proper and perfectly secure, the faith 
 of the Puritans. Young thing that she was, 
 Madge Hardy's great eyes seemed to reiter- 
 ate it : 
 
 " Religious ! Anything but religious, auntie, we 
 all think ; and we pity you so much ! " 
 
 "Please don't let's debate, mamma dear,"
 
 THE BRIDE'S CONFESSION. 
 
 209 
 
 pleaded Laura, with many a skilful caress of 
 persuasion. " At all events a new departure is 
 open for me. God pity me, I have no beliefs ; 
 none to cast off, none to sincerely take on. 
 No, no, mamma, I do not mean to upbraid 
 you for my rearing. Only I can't help thinking 
 
 
 
 that my blank soul would offend the dear cap- 
 tain as much as your contrary opinions." 
 
 Then she fell into silence for some moments, 
 thinking on the second and perhaps graver part 
 of her proposed confession to her husband's 
 father. 
 
 Meanwhile, Madge took up the arguments 
 with the invalid as to " letting this strong old 
 man into the secret of all business troubles, as 
 a good auntie ought long ago to have done 
 with her own brother, papa." 
 
 Mrs. Lane made no reply to this little thrust ; 
 but catching at Laura's hand as it was softly 
 stroking her own, while its owner sat so long 
 silent and dreaming towards the open window, 
 she suddenly said : 
 
 'Well, Laura, you will do as you think best 
 as to the business part of our problem. But 
 will you think it necessary to portray your mother 
 and yourself as such rank heretics ? " 
 
 "I am determined to put myself just right
 
 2io A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 with this family, mamma," was the softly deter- 
 mined reply. 
 
 "But is the trifle of your religious belief of 
 such importance, if the father is the noble- 
 hearted man you all say he is ? " 
 
 "Not of itself, perhaps," replied Laura, "ex- 
 cept in these times, when a man like Mark's 
 father is bending like my great maple tree in a 
 wind storm, with emotion, and, as I believe, is 
 praying to his God in every other breath, for 
 his country and his son, his only child. Why, 
 Mark told me that his father gave two thou- 
 sand dollars towards the equipment of the com- 
 pany. He is utterly unfitted for business. "He 
 walked the veranda last night, I am sure, long 
 after we were in bed. His eyes fill as he talks 
 to himself over the newspapers. Will you ever 
 forget that prayer of his last night ? And I, 
 who do not that is, I fear I do not know 
 how to pray at all, feel like a traitor in the 
 house." 
 
 " And then, again," Madge ventured, " the 
 question of faith is no trifle. It has divided a 
 nation before now. But you believe all right, 
 Laura dear; I'm sure you do. It isn't as if 
 Mark had married a Roman Catholic." 
 
 " Mark and his father respect Catholics ! " ex-
 
 THE BRIDE'S CONFESSION. 2 I1 
 
 claimed Laura. " I have occasion to know that 
 it is the people of no belief whom they 
 de " 
 
 " Despise ? " asked Madge with a little spark 
 in her tones, for Laura had spoken positively. 
 "No, no. Forgive me. We will not have a 
 woman's war over it. But you are not that 
 bad kind." 
 
 Then she put her arms about her cousin's 
 neck and continued : 
 
 " I see how it all is. You cannot tell about 
 the property trouble, I suppose, without explain- 
 ing how you came to be associated with this 
 doctor. Well, go tell it. Tell everything that 
 troubles you. There never was a truer heart 
 than this old sea dog, as he calls himself. 
 Funny name, is n't it ? Come, here it is time, 
 almost, for the mistress of the house, I should 
 say, to take a peep below stairs. I 'm not going 
 to argue this question longer. Auntie, we must 
 leave Laura to do as she thinks best." 
 
 " Which she certainly intends to do, mamma 
 dear," added Laura, impressively. " For she has 
 this new life to live, now, the truest and best 
 way she can. God help her ! " 
 
 She arose to her feet, and seemed wonderfully 
 imposing in her quiet resolution.
 
 212 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 " Say that often. That 's a good prayer," whis- 
 pered Madge. 
 
 " That is my tronble," responded the beauti- 
 ful girl, flushing over the confession. " I have 
 not said it a dozen times in as many years ! " 
 
 And she was gone from the room instantly, to 
 avoid further reply from the orthodox maiden. 
 
 It was, however, not till after breakfast that 
 Laura found Captain Charles alone. He was sit- 
 ting in the library, opening his mail, and rose 
 with dignified cordiality to meet her, saying : 
 
 " Good morning, my child. I was about to 
 send for you. Here is a telegram, to which you 
 have the first right now." 
 
 He said that difficult word bravely and sin- 
 cerely than which parents of newly-wed chil- 
 dren find no harder word, "the first right 
 now." 
 
 She read it eagerly and aloud. It briefly told 
 of the company's safe arrival at the State camp 
 at Brattleboro; that Mark was well and expected 
 to leave for "the seat of war" within forty- 
 eight hours. 
 
 " So you see, my dear, that disarranges our 
 plans about spending a few days with him in 
 the regimental camp," promptly remarked Mr. 
 Broon, and with decided disappointment.
 
 THE BRIDE^S CO'NFESSION. 
 
 213 
 
 The mere mention of such an unexpected pleas- 
 ure, now pronounced impossible in the same 
 breath, almost disconcerted the young wife. But 
 she soon got courage for her errand, and, after 
 asking if he had an hour to spare her, which of 
 course he had, she got into the corner of the 
 sofa opposite his easy chair and began her 
 story. 
 
 At first he gave her a half-amused and half- 
 puzzled attention, yet the very soul of indulgent 
 good-nature, till he suddenly shook his head 
 laughingly, and interrupted her with : 
 
 "But, my dear girl, it's no matter about this 
 other young man now. You are not the first 
 pretty girl that has sailed out o' harbor with a 
 fleet, and finally took one for consort. Your 
 Mark is no jealous fellow. Ah, the dear 
 boy ! " 
 
 Then her task grew more difficult. But with 
 feathers smoothed, and some courage yet to spare, 
 she went on to portray more and more of the 
 strange power over her mother that "this un- 
 scrupulous doctor" seemed to exercise. 
 
 "But what's that to do with you, or your 
 mother, now, child ? " asked the captain, leaning 
 forward, and using his great arm like a sickle, 
 a favorite gesture, by the way, with him when 
 very positive.
 
 2I4 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 She plucked at the fringe on the arm of the 
 sofa, and resumed : 
 
 "As a downright honest woman, sir, I should 
 tell you of a miserable scene in my mother's 
 house, the very day we were to come here ; a 
 scene fit for a mad-house, I should say ; which 
 my husband ought to have known about, only 
 there was no time ; yet if he knew it if you 
 knew it, sir, I'm sure you would regard my 
 mother and myself with the utmost contempt, 
 unless your pity softened you." 
 
 "This is very serious language, my dear 
 woman." 
 
 " Under the influence of this man, my mother 
 thought she saw my dead father " 
 
 " What ! Heaven help my old ears ! " 
 
 " And there was a paper written by this 
 man " 
 
 " Which your mother was asked to sign ? " 
 
 "And which she cannot tell whether she did 
 sign or not." 
 
 "Gracious! Gracious! And which it don't 
 matter whether she signed or not, under such 
 circumstances ! " 
 
 His clenched hand fell on the table like a 
 load of rock. 
 
 " Oh, do you indeed say so, sir ! " eagerly re- 
 sponded Laura.
 
 THE BRIBE'S CONFESSION. 
 
 215 
 
 He looked gravely round on her, from his sav- 
 age glare at the book-cases, and remarked piti- 
 fully : 
 
 " And does that assurance concerning your 
 property afford you such relief ? " 
 
 Wait a bit, young Mrs. Broon. You cannot 
 afford to tangle the skein further, by indulging 
 indignation. Hence, softly and with self-control : 
 
 "And is it not something, sir, to know that, 
 with all the rest of this bad business, my hus- 
 band is not to be obliged to support my pen- 
 niless mother?" 
 
 "Why, yes, child. Yes, you are right, I see. 
 Yet the thought of that vulgar preacher of some 
 horrid nonsense winding his coils round my 
 but I'm selfish in that. How I loathe this sort 
 of people, for your dear sake as much as mine 
 and my son's." 
 
 " I know you do, sir. Believe me, I know it. 
 And so do I loathe them ! Yet think how 
 wretched is a poor young wife's dilemma. It is 
 my own mother who has become involved in this 
 wild folly on one hand. On the other hand is 
 my husband of a day, whose love for me must 
 have somehow made me seem just a little 
 worthy of him ; he is snatched far away from 
 me, and I must try to try to win my place
 
 2i6 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 in this house, through you, sir, in whom I con- 
 fide." 
 
 "Confide ? " he replied with a look of alarm. 
 '.' Yet no one ever asked to confide in Charles 
 Broon and was turned away," he continued softly 
 and thinking aloud, "or was betrayed in his 
 confidences," with the heavy fist striking the 
 table, "only " 
 
 Silence. 
 
 " Only it seems shocking to you, sir, that a 
 wife of another man, and that man your idolized 
 son, should need to impart unpleasant confidences 
 to you." 
 
 "Why, yes, my dear woman; I think all this 
 should have been arranged between you and your 
 husband." 
 
 "But it was a time of war, sir." 
 
 "Yes, yes; and you wanted to make sure " 
 
 "Sir!" 
 
 She was on her feet. She flushed and throbbed. 
 Her trembling limbs almost took the fatal first 
 steps of flight. But there was such a look of 
 pain on his massive features, and there was such 
 a pathless wilderness stretching out before her 
 if she really did take those first steps that, 
 standing, she almost sobbed it : 
 
 " You do not, cannot blame a woman for try- 
 ing to gain one she loved."
 
 THE BRIBERS CONFESSION. 2 i; 
 
 He got out of his chair and took her two 
 hands, exclaiming fervently : 
 
 "Why, no, child, I believe you. Who could 
 help loving him? There, there! Let it all go 
 now. It's not necessary to show your log to 
 me. You and Mark can sail your own craft. 
 Say you forgive me. There!" 
 
 "If you would only take me to him, sir," 
 she added, with unspeakable distress. 
 
 "Yes, yes, I know, I know. You carry lots 
 of canvas, pretty one," holding her off and ad- 
 miring her, with returning confidence beginning 
 to beam in his face. " Take you ? Would God 
 I could ! Who could deny you ? I will, I will ! 
 So there ! Now you just keep within hailing 
 distance of the mercy seat of Heaven till we 
 see the dear boy. Indeed, we must see him be- 
 fore he goes into battle. Sit down now and 
 tell roe. Your mother has some property be- 
 sides the farm, you said." 
 
 But the storm could not clear so abruptly as 
 that. Men of affairs are self-controlled by long 
 training. Not so our dear women. Sometimes 
 it seems as if it would take forever and a day 
 for the sun to break through again after an 
 hour of woman's weeping. 
 
 Laura resumed her seat, to be sure; but
 
 2i8 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 there was now a perfect storm of tears behind 
 the handkerchief, and sobs that to most good 
 men are simply alarming. Captain Charles was 
 thoroughly alarmed for her ; he believed her 
 heart would break ; he was certain he had killed 
 her. You see he had never had a daughter of 
 his own. As for the two good women, his wives, 
 only ten days in port, once in two months, 
 they were an Elysium dream to the sailor ; 
 all his life long, till he began " stopping ashore," 
 he felt himself a cruel affliction on the happi- 
 ness of women and children by the anxiety 
 which he inflicted on them while at sea. He 
 often used to wonder how they ever could for- 
 give him and indulge him so when at home. 
 
 "Oh, you women!" he exclaimed, helplessly. 
 "God bless you. You are too good for us 
 rough men. I shall never get your bearin's. 
 Come, now. It's a stern chase with my old 
 heart, but I love the beautiful girl. God knows 
 I only live to make ye all happy." 
 
 This was too much. Down came the hand- 
 kerchief promptly. She sprung at his last ques- 
 tion instantly, and resumed her purpose to con- 
 fide all to him. 
 
 "Yes, we have about twenty-five thousand 
 dollars. Squire Lecey in the village has gener-
 
 THE BRIDE'S CONFESSION. 
 
 2I 9 
 
 ally managed the business where mamma could 
 not." 
 
 "I'll see the square, and block the fraud," 
 said the captain, with a tone of measureless re- 
 lief, turning to business, writing the name and 
 making the memorandum of his plan at once. 
 "And it could not honestly have been more 
 than a check for payment for professional ser- 
 vices," he wrote on, speaking his plan aloud. 
 
 Suddenly it flashed upon the young woman 
 again that she had only begun her story. She 
 burst out with: 
 
 "Why, Captain, the man has been trying to 
 enlist mamma in his great curative establishment, 
 and perhaps " 
 
 "Perhaps has got a big subscription from her," 
 growled the writer, glancing up. 
 
 "Indeed, I fear that is just it. How quickly 
 you see it all. Yes, the man has been admiring 
 the farm " 
 
 "And has got her to deed it to him for the 
 infernal institution!" shouted the captain, the 
 right arm swinging like a scythe now. 
 
 He looked the startled girl full in the face 
 for a moment with a blank stare. Then a cloud 
 of disgust began unmistakably to return over his 
 features, as the complexity of the possible situ? 
 ation dawned more fully on him.
 
 220 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 "Thick weather! Nasty, thick weather! And 
 right here in port, too ! Aground in the har- 
 bor!" 
 
 "What do you mean?" she asked timidly. 
 
 "Why, to think of my son's wife bein' in- 
 volved in such a mess. The lyin' hypocrite 
 alongside here, right down in the valley," he 
 answered, thoughtfully studying the carpet. 
 
 I admire this young girl just here: that she 
 did not again resent his remarks ; that she read 
 him with a woman's intuition, and knew that 
 he was kinder than his words; that she set it 
 all down in the account of the old man's life- 
 long offence at sight of fraud and religious pre- 
 tense; that she even envied him his religious re- 
 spectability, in contrast with her own hap-hazard 
 training. I admire her that she did not dash 
 all her hopes and theirs to the ground, wreck 
 her possible happiness and theirs, here and now," 
 and dislike this man, leave the house and go to 
 ruin. 
 
 She might have done all this two days be- 
 fore. But that marriage ceremony is a mighty 
 thing. It chains one. One is careful now. 
 One must get through this. 
 
 With no little self-possession and self-respect 
 in her tone :
 
 THE B RIDERS CONFESSION. 2 2I 
 
 "But you will shield us, sir. It is a woman's 
 right to ask that of a strong, true man." 
 
 He turned sharply away and walked to the 
 window. He stood there some seconds, that 
 seemed hours, then walking heavily back to his 
 seat, he answered her; 
 
 " I will ! But your mother must never see that 
 man again." 
 
 " She shall not ! " answered Laura. 
 
 " And as for yourself, my dear woman " 
 
 How persistently he called her "woman" in the 
 gravity of his address; and she seemed to her- 
 self to grow older and more courageous with its 
 every utterance. 
 
 " You will see the propriety of imparting every- 
 thing 'bout this young Smiles to your hus- 
 band." 
 
 " Would that I was in a wife's shelter, her 
 husband's presence ! " 
 
 " Right ! But it's war-times. So write him." 
 
 " There's nothing to write on that score. 
 Dear Mark knows that I repudiated the professed 
 and boasted engagement with Erastus Smiles" 
 
 She had said it ! In a moment she both re- 
 gretted and approved of the remark. 
 
 "Engagement? Boasted? Heaven have mercy! 
 You don't say that this chap thought he had 
 any claims on you?"
 
 222 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 Poor old man. Your good years have been too 
 many since" you were a boy. You are becoming 
 terribly involved in the effort to play the part 
 of your son, the young husband of this per- 
 plexed young creature. And your pride of family, 
 however admirable in its place how carefully 
 you reared the boy, God knows, and how noble 
 your ambition for him, may be just in your way 
 now, turning to your walk again, face purpling 
 and heart heavily beating. 
 
 Her girlish wit showed her the absurdity of 
 allowing the dear gentlemen to engage by proxy 
 in a matter of love's jealousy, and she smilingly 
 remarked : 
 
 "But you made light of all that, sir, a mo- 
 ment ago, saying something about young people 
 walking down the harbor in a fleet." 
 
 "Walking down the harbor? Sailing, child. I 
 said 'sailing.' Yes, yes." 
 
 And he got a rough smile on. 
 
 "You are right. Only let's just .leave those 
 people absolutely to themselves. Or, rather, leave 
 them to me. ' There, there ! I'll defend you and 
 your property. I 'm an old bungler, anyway, in 
 young people's affairs. You just keep on your 
 present tack. We'll overhaul our boy, down in 
 Washington, by next week, as I promised you. 
 Here, kiss me, my daughter."
 
 THE BRIDE^S CONFESSION. 
 
 223 
 
 Which she did, rising to meet him, and walk- 
 ing now with him across the room. He contin- 
 ued to talk. He would "put all this matter in 
 the hands of his attorney. They would shut the 
 house up here. Mrs. Lane should accompany 
 them to New York, at all events." And now if 
 Laura "would but trust in God, all would soon 
 come out well." 
 
 "Trust in God?" 
 
 Several times, as they crossed the room, her 
 lips silently repeated those words. As they 
 passed out to the veranda, she still turned that 
 expression over in her thoughts, as the old man 
 fell to relating incidents of his boy's youth and 
 rattled on in doting biography. She was inter- 
 ested of course ; and of course he knew that 
 she was interested. Father and bride commun- 
 ing of absent son and husband. Yet, perhaps, 
 he noticed that she was abstracted too; for after 
 a while he paused, seating himself on the rail 
 and looking away to the southward, over the 
 dim, blue mountains, and exclaimed : 
 
 " God keep him ! God keep him ! In times 
 like these, how could a father live without a 
 trust in God!" 
 
 Transparent face of hers. Silent lips of hers. 
 Tearful eyes of hers. He saw something, at least,
 
 224 
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 in these tokens, and asked her the question, or 
 she would not have ventured to load an added 
 burden on to his faith in her. 
 
 " You pray, daughter, do n't you ? " 
 
 She had never loved him so well, nor feared 
 him so much, till that question, asked in deep 
 and tender tones. 
 
 " I wish I did ! " she answered. 
 
 " Is it possible ? " the old man remarked, re- 
 flectively, gazing on her sweet and downcast face, 
 the tears starting through her long lashes and 
 wetting her cheeks. "Is it possible, my poor, 
 dear one ! " 
 
 And he grew calmer in his honest pity with 
 every breath. The nervous unrest under which 
 he had been suffering through all their interview 
 instantly gave way to a deep repose. He had 
 forgotten himself, forgotten his son, forgotten his 
 country, all in a moment, the grand old Chris- 
 tian, at sight of this beautiful young girl, moan- 
 ing out that touching wish which was so pitiful 
 a confession. 
 
 "Yes, it is possible; for I I have no be- 
 liefs whatever, sir ! " 
 
 She spoke it so desperately, as if all her 
 hopes died in the words. She had not dared to 
 look him in the face before; but her despair
 
 THE BRIDE'S CONFESSION. 
 
 22$ 
 
 gave her the will now. She expected to see 
 such rocky frowns as would best be met by, at 
 least, the stare of self-assertion ; then she would 
 leave him, and leave this home where she was 
 such a strangeling, with only a face which these 
 people could admire. Leave, at least, this man, 
 and go find the other man, if her two weary 
 feet could trace him to the world's end. 
 
 But she met so benign a look, so tender, so 
 deep in its love, a love richer than that same 
 old face had ever yet worn for her. His gray 
 eyes were swimming too. His lips moved with- 
 out speaking. His bronzed cheeks were softly 
 flushed and eloquent with a transforming wel- 
 come. She gazed on him a moment, then flew 
 into his arms, kissing his checks, then hiding 
 her head on his wide shoulder. She was now 
 sobbing convulsively. 
 
 " Oh, God ! The great, good God. There 
 there is a God to hear me, is there not ? " 
 
 "My darling, yes, yes, indeed there is a God." 
 He held her closely. He could only clear his 
 throat and rub his great hand, the free one, 
 across his eyes, as yet. " I guess hem! I 
 guess we have found this little bird hem! in, 
 season. I guess so. Heaven help us. We'll 
 save her from the hawks. Yes, we will. There, 
 there ! "
 
 226 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 He soothed her as if she were an infant, and 
 as if it gave him joy to do it. He seemed to 
 know that all the excitement of not only many 
 hours, but months, indeed, was finding now re- 
 lief. A woman could not have comforted her 
 with such a bosom. Her mother, surely, never 
 had so comforted her ; her own father she had 
 missed so long ; her husband it was as if she 
 had none, in that time of war. How she clung 
 to this manly breast ! 
 
 " We have run foul of a very different trouble 
 now, daughter," he said. " But this trouble is 
 so easily cured. Yes, yes, so easily. Not like 
 the other, wherein bad men are the cause. This 
 is all between the great Captain above and you. 
 Yes, yes. Softly now. That's the trim of sail 
 to find him. I mean a broken and a contrite 
 heart. He '11 meet you more than half way. He 
 is meeting you now ; the good God. You are 
 very dear to him. You are praying now. Just 
 tell him all that's in your heart, all you want 
 to ask or know, or need on board ; he '11 fill 
 you. This is all beautiful to me, I am smiling 
 down on the top of your woman's head, here, 
 as if it were a child's head ; smiling, not be- 
 cause I am heartless over your distress, but 
 because I know that such distress leads to infi-
 
 THE BRIDE'S CONFESSION. 227 
 
 nite repose. I'd tack out o' my course, any day, 
 to see and help a poor soul penitently askin' the 
 way to God. There, there ! " 
 
 And he stroked her wavy hair with his big 
 forefinger, along the blueish white parting of the 
 locks, while she rested from her anguish, and 
 grew tranquil with a great and ineffable peace. 
 
 At last she looked up into his face, beaming 
 on him, and saying : 
 
 " I think I can believe, and pray to your 
 God. He is mine ! And, oh, sir, how differ- 
 ently has this interview ended from what I 
 feared." 
 
 With which she straightened up, and moved 
 away from his embrace. 
 
 "Don't forget, then, my child, how we can 
 best defend the boy. All we can do is to pray 
 for him." 
 
 "I shall not forget that, to me, the best use 
 of my new found power." 
 
 She threw this back to him, as she halted a 
 moment on the threshold. She then sought her 
 room, as fast as her feet could carry her. 
 
 The old man sat long on the rail of the ve- 
 randa, meditating on all that had occurred. After 
 a good deed the world always looks pleasant for 
 a while, and sometimes, for a brief interval,
 
 228 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 brightly beautiful. The old captain's world, not- 
 withstanding the cloud of war, for the moment 
 seemed as beautiful as the glorious landscape 
 before him, over which the advancing sunrise 
 was so grandly marching. 
 
 His rugged common sense saw, on the one 
 hand, certain serpents to be trodden into the 
 dust ; on the other hand, certain doves to be 
 caressed, loved, and protected. His way was 
 plain enough. Probably not a single dark suspi- 
 cion foreshadowed itself. He rendered, at that 
 moment, his implicit confidence to his son's bride, 
 concerning whom he entertained, but that tender 
 solicitude oh, exquisite thrill of care that she 
 should ripen into a full believer in due time.
 
 TO ENLIST OR NOT TO ENLIST. 
 
 229 
 
 XI. 
 
 TO ENLIST OR NOT TO ENLIST. 
 
 1 >UT those days were like no previous days 
 that we living men and women had ever 
 seen. It was remarked, that summer, that day 
 after day the haymakers greeted the brilliant 
 mornings with firm hope that at last this 
 "ketchin' weather" was over, and the sunlight 
 would continue from its rising to its setting; 
 and great fields were "downed" by the clatter- 
 ing mowers, yet only to be shadowed by mid- 
 afternoon with the black clouds that drenched 
 and spoiled the crop; while scores of lusty toil- 
 ers turned to idle waiting under shelter, or 
 "tinkerin"' at fussy odds and ends. 
 
 There was scarce a farm where the odds and 
 ends were not all done and more, while the 
 noble fields were left undone. Every man's 
 work was greatly changed about; nothing in its 
 right proportions. For instance, such an amount 
 of "goin* to the post-office," usually a mere in- 
 cident of the rural Saturday night, but now al-
 
 230 
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 most a daily doing. And such sitting about the 
 steps of the village store, hearing the latest 
 news. Such a quantity of time with pen and 
 ink, and less with the cheese, poor old mother 
 of the boy at the wars, doing better work with 
 your cramped fingers driving the pen, than in 
 the milk-room those fingers ever did, for now 
 they were on the heart strings of a nation. Such 
 a disproportion between the proper reading of the 
 Herald of Zion, ancient advocate of orthodoxy 
 in the family, and those all-absorbing city papers 
 full of war, war, war! 
 
 Ah, everything out of ratio. Less sleep and 
 more reading and thinking. Less the price of 
 butter and eggs, of calves and colts, oh, bless 
 you, very much less of calculating these things 
 at the first, though it must be confessed we 
 got back to the notice of such trifles again by- 
 and-by, being human, and having year after year 
 of this, with eggs, et cetera> very high for specu- 
 lation, but at first the old farm itself, and all 
 that it grew, seemed infinitely small, while we 
 saw great movements of a great age, and our 
 sons the brave actors ! 
 
 We grew manly and womanly in spite of our- 
 selves. We forgot to gossip about our neigh- 
 bors, or to quarrel over line fences ; forgot the
 
 TO ENLIST OR NOT TO ENLIST. 2 M 
 
 tj 
 
 everlasting battle of the doxies in the great 
 unity of the orthodoxy of the Union. We ceased 
 to throw proof texts at each other, and took 
 the time for prayer. We saw beyond our farm, 
 beyond our "school deestrick," over the horizon 
 beyond our village and state. We saw the blue 
 sea that lies about our land's three coasts ; we, 
 who never saw salt water before, saw the whole 
 broad sea-embraced homestead, and began to 
 claim it all. We saw more, too; the faces of 
 the wide world turned towards us as in staring, 
 curious gaze. No wonder things got out of pro- 
 portion ; nay, into true and nobler proportion. 
 The war was a college course to us. 
 
 And it was no wonder that Capt. Charles 
 Broon saw things in a different light, a few 
 hours later, when the afternoon papers came up 
 in a cloud to Eaglecroft. That earlier view 
 from the library was not this later view from 
 the veranda. No more were the thoughts of 
 the one hour the thoughts of the later hour. 
 
 " Look you, child," exclaimed Captain Charles, 
 his broad face fiery red with the excitement of 
 his reading. " Look you ! " 
 
 And he first held out to her and then re- 
 claimed paper after paper. 
 
 " We have been terribly defeated, child. Why, 
 the rascals are almost in Washington ! "
 
 232 
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 But Laura yet saw things in the old propor- 
 tion. Her domestic troubles, the piques and 
 prides of social life, the jealousies of lovers, 
 and the theme of the morning. She had come 
 expecting these to receive new attention; and 
 she had expected to hear the ripe conclusion of 
 her father-in-law's deliberations on them. So she 
 stood prettily nonplussed by this explosion about 
 Washington. 
 
 He saw it, and resumed heartily : 
 
 " Why, Laura, there's only one thing goin' on 
 in the world to-day. That's our war. That lit- 
 tle affair the idea ! of which we were speak- 
 in' this morning, that is all right. Everything 
 is all right but this accursed war." 
 
 " But, father, if those two men pursue us up 
 here to-day?" 
 
 "Child alive!" 
 
 He hooked his great right arm as he 
 spoke. 
 
 "The man will not come! Why, he'll be off 
 to the wars himself before the week is over. 
 Nobody can resist. Too old ? Well, the son is 
 not. He is an American. How can he stay at 
 home? Child, I'm going myself!" 
 
 "You! Captain Broon?" 
 
 Her blue eyes opened so wide that he laughed
 
 TO ENLIST OR NOT TO ENLIST. 
 
 233 
 
 in spite of the passion of patriotism which was 
 on him. 
 
 " Yes ; I'm going to sound my way along after 
 my boy. My heart ! I must see him ! Would 
 you like to go with me to Washington?" 
 
 She flew into his old arms so swiftly that he 
 almost had one of his recently alarming strug- 
 gles for breath. She put her soft, hot cheek 
 against his hard, hot cheek. She managed to 
 say it : 
 
 "And do you think we could could see him 
 all alone by himself, papa" she substituted this 
 title for father* since morning "for just a little? 
 Really ? " 
 
 " Why, daughter, yes ! What a question ! But, 
 to be sure, I keep forgetting that you have 
 never had a full day of your husband. Yes, 
 yes, we will. We'll have him up at our hotel 
 of course. But if I were you, I 'd never whis- 
 per to him any of these troubles. You'll never 
 see the Smiles crew again." 
 
 "But are you sure we can really have Mark 
 to ourselves?" she resumed. "He will be in 
 such an ocean of men. Oh, I cannot endure it 
 again, just to see him for a parting ! To see 
 him with no time nor place to say what is in 
 my heart ; to see him with my heart so full of
 
 234 
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 himself and myself, but his heart so full of 
 of the country there. Please forgive me if that's 
 a wicked speech. If I could only follow him, 
 and, finding him, say, 'Come ! ' and he would step 
 out of that ocean of men and walk away with 
 me where I could tell him what I ought to 
 have told before ; and we could sit together and 
 and ; but to see my husband in the crowded 
 streets or camps, under so many eyes and then, 
 at a sharp command, why, he marches away from 
 me as if as if I was nobody, and the country 
 was everything ! There, again I 've said it ! No 
 doubt you think me very selfish. May not a 
 bride be selfish of her husband ? I tell you, papa, 
 I will not go through that agony again." 
 
 " Hush, child," the old man responded, husk- 
 ily. "I know. He is yours, and yet not yours. 
 So he is mine, and yet not mine. It is the 
 times ; God does not so ordain for a bride and 
 her husband, nor for father and son. He 
 should be alongside us now but for man's 
 wrath. But I'll take you to him', I will ! I 
 will! Meanwhile think how many other women 
 are left on the love tack, like yourself." 
 
 Full of the purpose now beginning to take 
 definite shape, the two went in search of the 
 other members of the household, in order to
 
 TO ENLIST OR NOT TO ENLIST. 
 
 235 
 
 make arrangements for breaking up the establish- 
 ment at Eaglecroft. 
 
 Probably they would not return here again dur- 
 ing the season. The captain went on to plan 
 it that, after they should have returned from 
 Washington, they would run down to the sea- 
 shore for a few weeks, and then it would be 
 time to reopen the city house in New York. 
 They would feel a little nearer to Mark, too, he 
 thought, in New York than away up here in the 
 country. Besides, everything up here reminded 
 one so of Mark ; this was Mark's place, he seemed 
 everywhere visible. And again the captain added 
 a word or two about some necessary attention 
 to his business, though this almost triflingly. 
 
 "What ! You will take my child away from 
 me ? " almost shrieked poor Mrs. Lane, when, a lit- 
 tle later on, the proposition was broached to her. 
 The family and their guests were assembled in 
 the great drawing-room ; some standing, some sit- 
 ting, all excitedly considering the sudden plan of 
 Captain Charles and Laura ; and each from a 
 personal standpoint at first, as always with such 
 abrupt change of plans. 
 
 " Mamma dear ! " and Laura had the little 
 women in her arms instantly, while she kissed 
 the quivering lips in silence for a moment.
 
 236 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 " Oh, I shall die if you leave me here, Laura\ 
 I am not fit to be alone. That was not in the 
 marriage contract that we should be sepa- 
 rated." 
 
 The unfortunate lady was, for the moment, 
 utterly beside herself. Her distress was genuine, 
 and moved everybody. 
 
 " Mamma, you shall never be left alone ! " 
 cried Laura, her fine eyes flashing through her 
 tears, her breast heaving with contending affec- 
 tions. She drew her mother nearer yet, and 
 caressed her as if their kinship were reversed, 
 saying, " No ; you shall go with us. Shall she 
 not, Captain Broon ? " 
 
 " Of course she must ! Yes, she b'longs to 
 our mess, now, my girl," roared the captain, 
 wiping his own eyes and stumping about the 
 two, as if half a mind to take his turn at em- 
 bracing and comforting the hysterical mother. 
 " Wife, here ! Go up and get her a cup o' some- 
 thing strengthening. Yes, of course she goes 
 'long. Wish you would all go 'long. I hate 
 to break up the party, Mrs. Hardy and Miss 
 Madge. All go down to the seashore with us, 
 anyway. My house down there's big enough." 
 
 He wanted to add that his purse was ample 
 enough and at the disposal of everybody ; but
 
 TO ENLIST OR NOT TO ENLIST. 237 
 
 he had already commissioned his wife to suggest 
 as much to Mrs. Hardy, since the mayor was 
 not at hand. 
 
 "Oh, no; we could not think of that, captain," 
 said Mrs. Hardy, now coming to take her place 
 at her sister's side, and offering the cup of 
 cordial which Mrs. Broon, the elder, had brought. 
 " You are exceedingly kind, captain. But we 
 can go over with sister to her farm, for a 
 while, as we had originally intended. And she 
 will bear up and be a brave little woman, I 
 know. For a wife's place is with her husband. 
 I think Laura should accompany you. Madge ? " 
 
 "Yes, indeed, auntie," exclaimed Madge, taking 
 the hint, and then, too, the romance of uniting 
 the lovers took instant and full possession of 
 the young girl. 
 
 She was kneeling at Mrs. Lane's feet. Alto- 
 gether it was an interesting group; especially 
 now that the old captain had edged his way 
 around to the back of the chairs till he got in 
 his great hand, or two or three ringers of it, 
 gently smoothing the gray hairs of the dis- 
 tressed and perhaps only half-conscious lady. 
 
 " The farm, you know, can't quite be left, 
 just now," Mrs. Hardy ventured ; and she con- 
 tinued to speak of "the dear old house" and
 
 238 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 "how much pride John took in it when he was 
 alive," and "how easy it would be, after a 
 little, to leave it in competent hands while she 
 ran down to Long Branch," etc., etc." 
 
 " No, auntie ! " It was Laura's alarmed face 
 full as much as her words. " Leave mamma 
 here? exposed to " but she could hardly bring 
 herself to name the danger so openly. 
 
 " Yes ; I will go back to the farm ! " to every 
 one's surprise Mrs. Lane gasped it out, and 
 with an injured, innocent look and tone. " You 
 children go marry and leave us poor mothers 
 to our lonely way. That's the way of the 
 world!" 
 
 "Don't, don't put it that way, mamma, my 
 precious mamma!" fairly sobbed Laura. 
 
 "It is nature, sister," said Mrs. Hardy, sooth- 
 ingly, yet a little out of patience again, as she 
 had been much of late years, with her sister's 
 "impulsive and weak ways." 
 
 " Cruel, cruel nature, then ! " was Mrs. Lane's 
 response, freeing herself coldly from her daugh- 
 ter's arms. 
 
 "It is in the Bible, dear lady," expostulated 
 the old captain, unfortunately. 
 
 "The Bible!" with a hard glance upward at 
 the speaker. " Yes, I know. In the in your
 
 TO ENLIST OR NOT TO ENLIST. 
 
 239 
 
 Bible." Then she fell to rocking herself back 
 and forth, elbows dropped to knees. 
 
 " No, Laura, I will go ! " putting away the 
 unhappy bride. " It is all right," meaning the 
 very reverse. "We will pack up this very day, 
 your auntie and Madge and I. You go pack up 
 and follow your husband. It is no matter what 
 becomes of me." 
 
 And that was the woman Laura had to deal 
 with, my reader. How everybody pitied the sob- 
 bing girl, as she silently wound her arms again 
 about her mother, insisting on the embrace 
 which was not welcomed. How beautiful ' she 
 was in her wild wretchedness between two con- 
 tending loves! And no one could help her. So 
 everyone left the room for a time. And every- 
 one heard, with unutterable pity, as the door 
 closed, her heart-breaking moan : 
 
 "My husband and my mother!" 
 
 "It is all of this dreadful time of war," 
 groaned the captain, as the retiring group 
 halted, all standing, on the veranda without. 
 "God pity us all!" 
 
 "Don't you think she had better stay, father?" 
 asked his wife, wiping her eyes. 
 
 "Perhaps she had," he responded, wetting his 
 forefinger in his mouth ar.d holding it up to see
 
 240 
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 which way the wind was, as if the weather had 
 something to do with even this sort of trou- 
 ble. 
 
 "Not at all, Mr. Broon," said Mrs. Hardy, 
 with much decision. "Why, she would be worse 
 than useless here. She has never had her hus- 
 band for an hour, you might say, to herself. 
 Her heart is gone to the wars. You do n't 
 know us women, sir." 
 
 "Tut, tut; don't I? I think I do, ma'am. 
 Such a woman as that ! Now I know that that 
 little ceremony which took her in tow and 
 bound her alongside o' my son, has changed 
 this ere girl's whole natur'. I know ! " 
 
 "Strange, is it not?" mused Madge Hardy, 
 curiously, tearing a leaf. "Just that little cere- 
 mony." 
 
 At which the married people managed to 
 smile, and the group began to break up, leaving 
 the next hour or two to reveal what it would 
 reveal. 
 
 As they walked different ways, you might 
 have overheard Madge question her mother, with 
 pretty upturned face, about "young Smiles, who 
 was loitering here in the mountains, if he really 
 was not incapable of any dishonorable purpose, 
 so far as he was concerned."
 
 TO ENLIST OR NOT TO ENLIST. 
 
 241 
 
 And Mrs. Hardy's protest that she "did not 
 believe that fear had entered into Laura's remot- 
 est thought. It was simply natural, charming 
 bride-devotion on one hand, and love of mother 
 on the other." 
 
 Which the reader is welcome to, using it as 
 it may strike you. 
 
 As a matter of history, it remains but to re- 
 cord that the house was shut up the next day; 
 that Mrs. Hardy and Madge accompanied Mrs. 
 Lane to the farm ; that Laura went off with 
 the captain's family, off to the wars, she and 
 he, though the family were to be dropped at 
 the seaside. 
 
 But those days were like no other days we 
 ever saw. Every day was startlingly new. And 
 men changed so with things. 
 
 For instance, Erastus Smiles and his father, 
 the doctor. Of course, within a week of the 
 widow's return, the two were become again very 
 familiar visitors at the widow's pretty farm- 
 house. 
 
 It was agreed between Mrs. Hardy and Madge 
 that it was best to indulge the sick lady for a 
 day or two. Indeed, they could not have helped 
 themselves, for the widow's stout and perverse 
 will was roused ; her resentment yet lashed her. 
 "Was she not mistress in her own house?"
 
 242 
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 But one beautiful summer Sabbath saw a great 
 change sweep like a flash of light over this lit- 
 tle group. 
 
 "Well, sister, this is the first and last Sun- 
 day riding for pleasure for me!" exclaimed Mrs. 
 Hardy, as she helped Mrs. Lane into the car- 
 riage that Dr. Smiles had provided. "I only 
 comply, doctor, for this poor invalid's sake." 
 
 "My dear madam," was Smiles' smooth reply, 
 "suppose, then, that you and my son ride to- 
 gether, for he is as sober as a preacher to-day; 
 in a perfect Sabbath mood, I do assure you. 
 Perhaps you can tempt him to confide in you. 
 He 's very fond of his mother. If he do n't 
 tell you what 's clouding him, I shall have to 
 take him home to that excellent lady, whom 
 you resemble, he thinks, by-the-way." 
 
 Thumbs pressed together obsequiously now, 
 the doctor having seated himself facing Madge 
 Hardy and Mrs. Lane in the carriage, leaving 
 Mrs. Hardy still standing on the ground. 
 
 "Jf you would be so kind," exclaimed Erastus 
 with genuine invitation. "We really did not 
 know how to arrange it otherwise for five." 
 
 And the young fellow's strong, homely face, 
 somehow, had a more interesting and less for' 
 bidding look, overcast and grave as it now was, 
 than Mrs. Hardy had before seen in it.
 
 TO ENLIST OR NOT TO ENLIST. 243 
 
 "Indeed I will, Mr. Smiles," she responded 
 promptly. " Of course we shall all keep to- 
 gether." 
 
 The party got off in that shape, winding up 
 hills and down dales, to the eastward of Bethle- 
 hem ; for an hour or two the understanding be- 
 ing that they should return through the village 
 by noon, to secure the Sunday mail, the post- 
 office being open from twelve to one o'clock. 
 
 "Yes, Mrs. Hardy," Erastus is saying; "this 
 has been the most momentous week of my life ! 
 You have, I venture to presume, guessed that I 
 loved Laura Lane. You have seen that in my 
 talk of this day. You do me too much honor, 
 however, in supposing that I am worthy of a 
 good wife, and in hoping that I may yet find one. 
 I can hardly understand myself in the making of 
 such a confession. A month ago I was proud 
 of my mean, selfish, vengeful self; to-day I con- 
 fess to you, like a penitent ! " 
 
 His rugged features were pale as death. 
 
 "I will not indulge any embarrassment, Mr. 
 Smiles," the good lady replied, trying in real 
 kindness to disguise her agitation, "for I have 
 a son about your age, who makes me his con- 
 fident, but" 
 
 "But I ought to realize the indelicacy of
 
 244 
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 thrusting such confidences on a comparative stran- 
 ger," he exclaimed. "I do. Forgive me. Yet 
 hear me ; for if I could talk to my own mother 
 just now " 
 
 "Why not go seek her?" 
 
 " Because," with a quick, instinctive glance 
 over his shoulder, as if to see if his father was 
 within earshot, " because I must not leave my 
 father here alone. Do you understand why ? " 
 with a searching gaze into his companion's be- 
 nevolent face. 
 
 " I I think I do," she faltered. Am I not 
 here on the same duty ? " 
 
 Her white hairs enhanced the deep color that 
 now came, till her forehead and temples seemed 
 flaming. 
 
 "Yes. Oh, the shame of confessing it," he 
 groaned. 
 
 "Then your father really has designs on my 
 sister's property ? " 
 
 " Hush, oh, hush ! I 'm not yet ready to break 
 I do not say so." 
 
 "But you, young man, you surely would not 
 be a party to such a scheme ? " very vehe- 
 mently. 
 
 "I would, Mrs. Hardy, just think of it! 
 God forgive me I would, till a week ago."
 
 TO ENLIST OR NOT TO ENLIST. 
 
 245 
 
 " But not now ? Oh, sir, not now. Then you 
 are on our side, and the evil will be prevented 
 through your goodness. Heaven indeed bless 
 you ! " 
 
 Nothing was said in reply, for some moments, 
 till, as they were now in sight of the village 
 church spires, the young man suddenly turned 
 and asked : 
 
 " Do you know what has changed me ? If in- 
 deed it can change me so that I shall be a 
 changed man ! " 
 
 " God's good Spirit, I trust," she replied, and 
 was too much alarmed by her escort's now 
 almost uncontrollable emotion to ask another 
 question. 
 
 " No, Mrs. Hardy ; my heart has been stirred 
 with the tempest that has been raging there 
 because I saw that company of patriots march 
 away to heroic war and leave me, a selfish 
 coward, behind ! " 
 
 "Do you, also, confess to the war fever that 
 has attacked all the foolish boys ? " the lady 
 asked, trying to make light of patriotic enthu- 
 siasm, as she had often done in letters to her 
 own boy ; and yet every playful page had ended 
 in pathetic dissuasion. 
 
 " Mrs. Hardy, you have a son ? " very gravely.
 
 246 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 " Yes," shaking like a leaf now. 
 " And you do not want him to go to war ? " 
 "What, our Fred? Oh, God forbid!" 
 The spark had taken to the tinder now. The 
 apprehensions of anxious days and sleepless 
 nights were tyrannizing over her; she could not 
 keep back her tears. 
 
 "Well, then, kind lady," Erastus resumed, 
 "you had better leave this duty up here undone, 
 and go put your arms about him, for we young 
 men are being swept like a tempest ; your boy 
 will go ! Every decent young man of us will 
 
 go!" 
 
 " Stop the carriage ! I am faint." 
 
 " Father !" shouted the young man, to the 
 other vehicle rolling leisurely behind them across 
 the village green. " Quick ! The lady has 
 fainted ! " 
 
 It was the work of a moment to bring the 
 two carriages together, and to a halt. They were 
 in full view of the people just emerging from 
 the church porch. Dr. Smiles and Madge^ Hardy 
 were instantly at the wheels. 
 
 " Oh, mamma ! What is it ? " 
 
 " Nothing now. I'm re recovered. Here we 
 are before so many people. Let 's get home." 
 She refused the physician's hand at her wrist.
 
 TO ENLIST OR NOT TO ENLIST. 
 
 247 
 
 ' We must hasten back, Madge ; and I must 
 go down to S to-morrow ! " 
 
 " Mamma, I know. It is Fred ! " 
 
 "Yes, doctor," said Mrs. Lane, leaning out 
 from her carriage. "It was just so the other 
 night in my room. She's afraid Fred will en- 
 l ist." 
 
 "Erastus," the doctor began, "what have you 
 been saying to this lady ? " It was half reproof, 
 5ialf pleasantry. 
 
 "I have said, sir," Erastus answered, and at 
 i he same time his ashen face was turned towards 
 *he knots of villagers crossing the grass, "that 
 4.11 the manly youth of this country would go 
 .o war!" 
 
 "Severe on yourself, my lad," replied the doc- 
 tor, trying to laugh aloud, but somehow strangely 
 apprehensive as he searched the blanched fea- 
 tures of his son. "Come, let's get out of 
 this." 
 
 "Father, look there!" 
 
 Every eye followed Erastus Smiles' long, out- 
 stretched arm. 
 
 "Why, it is a wounded soldier they are clus- 
 tering about ! " Madge Hardy said, clasping her 
 hands. 
 
 "Yes," Mrs. Lane added nervously. "My man
 
 248 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 told me that farmer Knott's Ike was home from 
 that big battle, on a a fur-something." 
 
 "A furloughed hero, father!" exclaimed Eras- 
 tus, reverently. 
 
 At the same moment he sprung to the green- 
 sward, lifting his hat with the hand that was free 
 from the reins. 
 
 "Well, you goose," the doctor blurted out, his 
 black eyes blazing, "a blue coat-sleeve tied up. 
 I don't see much to that, except its novelty." 
 
 "Oh, isn't he interesting!" Madge Hardy 
 panted out. "And an officer, too. See how the 
 people flock about him." 
 
 " Yes ; was in Boston, you know," the widow 
 began further to explain, "and went from there. 
 My man says he was a machinist, and the 
 Knotts up here on the back road are very common 
 farmers ; but now he 's a wounded officer, what 
 fools all Bethlehem are making of themselves 
 over him ! And yet he does seem impressive, 
 my dear. A real, live, righting man up here," 
 musingly studying the picture and, for the mo- 
 ment, amused to the forgetting of her own 
 woes. 
 
 " Lost that left arm, I see," said the doctor, 
 gloved thumbs and finger tips tapping each other 
 nervously. " Zounds, but he is a splendid fellow
 
 TO ENLIST OR NOT TO ENLIST. 249 
 
 to be out of hospital so soon! It can't be a 
 month since that first horrid fighting. Satan's 
 work, all ! Let us devoutly thank God that none 
 of ours are thus engaged in public butchery ! " 
 
 "I don't quite like that kind of talk, either," 
 said the widow. For the passing Ike had caught 
 sight of her carriage now, and, away across the 
 emerald pavement, spotted over with the groups 
 in " Sunday dress," he had lifted his soldier's 
 cap to her in a pretty way. " So'mehow he does 
 look very fine. Why didn't the hero wear his 
 sword? Let's cheer him. To think of it; 'he 
 has been in a real battle and got real wounds!" 
 
 " Mamma, yes ! " cried Madge -Hardy, to urge 
 her mother's handkerchief out. She stood, her- 
 self, on tip-toe, all pink as a peach with her 
 patriotism, and fluttered her little lace banner 
 high up in the summer breeze. " No, indeed, 
 butchery ! Dr. Smiles. I do think it is so real 
 now. How handsome all the men look ! Hur- 
 rah ! hurrah ! very softly. 
 
 " Child ! " exclaimed her mother, " would you 
 encourage your own brother to go off there, and 
 get get butchered ? " 
 
 But for all that, dear Yankee soul, she got 
 her banner in the air too. 
 
 Then there was a little cheer echoed over
 
 250 
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 from the people about the hero ; a mere Sunday 
 cheer, a clapping of hands of pretty country 
 girls and matrons, with an urchin's piping silver 
 mingled in clapping from side to side of the 
 Green, as others took courage now that some 
 one had initiated the business. 
 
 " That 's his sister at his side. How proud 
 she seems ! " said Mrs. Lane, quite smiling. 
 
 " See the man blush," said the doctor, in spite 
 of himself. " Even from here I can see that he 's 
 lost the traumatic pallor of a moment ago." 
 
 "Retract your naughty word, then," said Madge 
 not withdrawing her* eyes. 
 
 "What, butchery?" 
 
 "Yes. A war for the Union is sacrifice, sir. 
 Glorious sacrifice ! " 
 
 Then she dropped her arm, and gave him 
 her school-girl eyes, full, all school-girl patriot- 
 ism. 
 
 " I declare I will, Miss Hardy. It is a mov- 
 ing spectacle. Like a picture, this. Like a bit 
 of an epic in a man's own life -time. Because, 
 ladies, you know, we are mere spectators. We 
 can afford to admire, since it is not our son 
 who is robbed of a good working hand there." 
 
 All this while Erastus Smiles had been stand- 
 ing by his horse's head, partly hid from his
 
 TO ENLIST OR NOT TO ENLIST. 251 
 
 father, and uncovered under the brilliant mid- 
 day. From his fixed gaze on the passing soldier 
 boy he had not turned a moment. He had not 
 spoken. He had not joined in the soft salute. 
 He seemed to have forgotten his duty to be 
 polite, or care for a lady's safety, for the restive 
 horse, startled by the hand-clapping, began to 
 move away from him unchecked. 
 
 "I say, Rat!" his father shouted. 
 
 "Father," he suddenly exclaimed, recalled to 
 himself, "please stand by this animal. I want 
 to make the acquaintance of that splendid fel- 
 low." 
 
 "Why so?" 
 
 "Because, father, I am going to give him my 
 name as a recruit!" 
 
 "Angels defend me! Am I crazy/ or is it 
 you, you simpleton?" 
 
 This Smiles, the elder, with a spring to his 
 son's side. 
 
 "I'll put you in leading string at " 
 
 "My dear father, you will certainly take your 
 hands off me and and give me your bless 
 ing." 
 
 It was a request in love and inflection, but 
 the words and looks were of command. 
 
 And what a shock of surprise this first reso-
 
 252 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 lute rebellion of his life gave the boy's father 
 standing there. He took his hands off, however, 
 for he needed his thumbs, which he began roll- 
 ing so very far backward on his wrists, and 
 with a pressure that showed in his purple face. 
 Then, getting his breath, and bringing himself 
 down from his toes, heavily, on his heels : 
 
 "To enlist?" 
 
 "To enlist." 
 
 "You?" 
 ij 
 
 "Then that's been the worm at your heart 
 for the last few days." 
 
 'Oh, my father, let a kind look come into 
 your face, I do pray you. Send me away with 
 your approval. I cannot do the the other thing. 
 You will sometime be glad I acted the manly 
 part." 
 
 "Why, boy, who asked you to act any other 
 part?" with a quick, warning movement of the 
 black eyes that referred to the rest of the com- 
 pany. 
 
 "I know, I know, sir," the son answered, at 
 the same time seizing his father's arm. "But 
 I do not care who hears it. I have no heart 
 for life. It makes not a whit's difference what 
 becomes of me. I'll give my life to my country.
 
 TO ENLIST OR NOT TO ENLIST. 253 
 
 I can afford to do it, surely, if happy men 
 can, for I have nothing to live for. And there, 
 too, I am as selfish as I seem fated to be in 
 everything I do in this world. But yet," and 
 here his eyes caught the approving yet wonder- 
 ing gaze of Madge Hardy, "I dare hope I have 
 just a little manliness in what I do. It is a 
 dear land; many other people may live to be 
 happy in it, if the Union is saved. Now, 
 father for no protests are of any use, I tell 
 you, send me away, doing one decent, manly 
 thing, doing a thing that gives the lie to Mark 
 Broon's contempt for me ; send me with your 
 blessing!" 
 
 "When?" 
 
 And there were signs of a shrewd second 
 thought in that elder face. 
 
 "At once. I want to pledge myself to that 
 officer in our country's army as soon as he can 
 approach." 
 
 Yet there was desperate resolution under his 
 excited grandiloquence. 
 
 " See ! I have beckoned to him, and all the 
 people are coming." 
 
 Which was true. Already one and another of 
 the villagers had paused about the carriages, till 
 quite a little throng of them blocked in the 
 wheels and horses.
 
 254 
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 "Wait, my son," this in a low tone. "If 
 you will go make a a hero," with almost a 
 sneer, "of yourself, why, I can do better for 
 you than you can do for yourself. We'll go 
 home and get a commission for you." 
 
 " Father," the young fellow resumed, " I al- 
 ways feared you ; I confess it. It is your con- 
 sent I want, not honors." 
 
 He whispered it in his son's ear : 
 
 " But I want the honors ! " 
 
 A shade of pity flitted across the younger face. 
 But Erastus replied : 
 
 "Very well. I'll not enlist with this man. 
 But I shall give him my hand on the pledge." 
 
 He then stepped forward to greet the 
 "wounded hero," now come near, with: 
 
 "I have not the pleasure of your acquaint- 
 ance, Lieutenant, yet I want to tell you that I 
 glory in you, and here give you my hand that 
 I have been brought to a decision by the sight 
 of you to go fight for the Union." 
 
 "God bless you, stranger," was Ike Knott's re- 
 sponse, grasping the outstretched hand. "That's 
 the kind o' talk we want. Hip, hip!" 
 
 The villagers gave a hurrah, Sabbath or no 
 Sabbath, while Madge Hardy fluttered up and took 
 hold of his arm ; she might have kissed him in her
 
 TO ENLIST OR NOT TO ENLIST. 2 $$ 
 
 enthusiasm, but that, notwithstanding its glow, 
 it "was not really, mamma, a truly good face, 
 after all. Do you know what I mean, 
 mamma ? " 
 
 This an hour or two later, after they had re- 
 turned to the farm. 
 
 For the party rather abruptly disentangled 
 itself from the now decidedly boisterous villagers 
 and drove away. 
 
 " No ? You are too excited to spend a social 
 evening with us, my poor dear doctor, no doubt," 
 remarked Mrs. Lane, at her own door. 
 
 She had beckoned him in, and he had shaken 
 his head. 
 
 " Well, I d& think the times are terrible. 
 How my heart can sympathize with you, and 
 you with me, now. Laura will admire your son 
 now. I shall write her at once. Ah me ! " 
 
 And no doubt her sigh was a sign of real 
 distress. 
 
 "And yet, my dear lady," the doctor replied, 
 in a tone calculated to command the attention 
 of the other ladies, who halted in the vestibule 
 to listen, "lest we be rude to him, poor gen- 
 tleman," as Madge had whispered, " and yet. I 
 say to you all, while my heart is wrung with a 
 natural parental sorrow, I can yet see many
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 ways in which I shall be the means of doing 
 service to my kind by the free surrender of my 
 only son to this great cause. No doubt a kind 
 Providence will overrule this to my blessing. 
 Good-night, ladies." 
 
 "Good-night," from all the others. 
 
 "Good-night," from Erastus Smiles in turn, 
 lifting his hat. 
 
 " Good-night," again in chorus ; and suddenly 
 Madge Hardy advancing and extending her hand 
 to him, the first and only one. He took it, ac- 
 tually, not without a flush, and turned away. 
 
 "Why did you do that, you silly child?" was 
 Mrs. Hardy's reproving speech as they were 
 alone. 
 
 "Because I pitied the young man, trying to 
 be a hero, and left with such a cold-blooded 
 man as his father." 
 
 "A pretty and impulsive girl, Erastus. But 
 what made you blush so warmly ? " said the 
 doctor, when they had entered the carriage. 
 
 "Because, father, it made me feel young 
 again, and almost as I was a few years ago, 
 when I was cleaner than I am now, to think 
 this innocent young woman so admired a good 
 intention in me ! " 
 
 "Why, Rat, one would suppose I had de- 
 bauched my son's mind."
 
 TO ENLIST OR NOT TO ENLIST. 
 
 257 
 
 The eyes, full turned and frank, made the 
 only reply. 
 
 " Well, now, my son, you need n't take it to 
 heart so thoroughly, that I suggested certain 
 plans in life to you. Drop all that. You shall 
 serve under the precious flag. Why, I got a let- 
 ter only last night, which I was tempted to 
 burn, in which one of our powerful politicians 
 down home suggested the appointment of my 
 son to a lucrative office in the department 'of 
 army transportation. It angered me to think of 
 your being enlisted and carrying a sword, as you 
 would have to figuratively, at least, in this 
 wicked war." 
 
 " I'll not hear that again, sir, even from you ! 
 I can get out and walk. To me it is a holy 
 war ! " 
 
 He was actually laying down the lines. 
 
 "Ye-a-s, holy;" yet his thumbs concluded not 
 to roll each other back very far. " So be it, 
 Rat. Upon the whole this uprising of the peo- 
 ple has its majestic side. I'll promise you, here 
 and now, to so view it, if you will agree to 
 take this appointment, as a colonel, mark you, 
 think of that ! in a department of the army 
 where you will not need to kill anybody, nor 
 get killed. Now, come, will you do it ? "
 
 258 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 Resuming the lines thoughtfully, Erastus Smiles 
 allowed his animal to pace on while the vehicle 
 behind them passed with its driver out of possi- 
 ble earshot. For a season he uttered not a word 
 in reply. At length he muttered to himself: 
 
 "Fine pay." 
 
 "Yes," eagerly answered the doctor, misinter- 
 preting him. 
 
 "No chance of being shot," with a start, and 
 as if it were provoked from him by his father's 
 previous misunderstanding. 
 
 " Not a chance,- my son ! " warmly. 
 
 An astonished stare, which meant, " Is it pos- 
 sible you still fail to catch my meaning ? " But 
 otherwise silence for some moments, till finally: 
 
 "You assure me, on your honor, father Smiles, 
 that you will heartily support the war in all 
 your intercourse with men. You will relieve us, 
 as a family, of any remote suspicion of disloy- 
 alty ; relieve us and yourself of the danger and 
 disgrace of disloyalty now listen; do not inter- 
 rupt me, for I am respectful as I am plain 
 by thought, word or deed, if I will forego the 
 battlefield and take this safer God pity me! 
 safer place ? " 
 
 " I promise. Heavens ! Your patriotism is re.il 
 enough to move even my admiration."
 
 TO ENLIST OR NOT TO ENLIST. 
 
 " Then it is so agreed, and you may reply to 
 the letter at once, for I'm about to return to 
 S - to-morrow." 
 
 Within the next ten rlays the two men had 
 worked this programme into accomplished facts.
 
 260 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 XII. 
 NOT TO BE CAMP-FOLLOWERS. 
 
 u ^SOMETHING has gone wrong to-day, 
 ^ father ? " 
 
 It was Capt. Charles Broon's ever watchful 
 wife who said it. following him up stairs to 
 his room to do so, as he returned home from 
 the first day down-town in New York. 
 
 " Tell me what it is," she resumed, as he 
 still employed himself, without response, at his 
 toilet for dinner. 
 
 She was seated behind him, watching him, 
 with folded arms, a habit of hers, bless her 
 kind heart. 
 
 "Well, wife, ihe fact is," he replied, laying 
 down the clot'/ies brush and gazing curiously 
 about the nob'e room, " we are anchored here 
 in town for f,he present. Can't follow up the 
 boy." 
 
 "That's n>t all, father." 
 
 She alwz/s called him "father." Indeed, she 
 was fifteen years his junior.
 
 NOT TO BE CAMP-FOLLOWERS. 2 6l 
 
 " Why, no, shipmate." 
 
 Then silence. 
 
 " You are always in very grave mood, my 
 dear one, when you call me by that old sea- 
 term. Tell me what troubles you." 
 
 And she went up to him, wound her arms over 
 his wide shoulders, and gave him eyes of priceless 
 trust and sympathy. Yet she trembled. He felt 
 the tremors that agitated her. This was not usual, 
 for the life of this home had rarely known a danger 
 or seen an approaching peril in all the munificent 
 years since this " second wife" had lived in it. 
 
 He seemed both excited and fatigued. Yet 
 with a great effort he was evidently trying to 
 command himself, in mercy to others. He stroked 
 her hair; he let his arm fall about her in such 
 a strong embrace, as we all have done when 
 dangers, which our arms could not for a moment 
 defend against, were threatening those we loved. 
 
 "Is it Mark?" 
 
 " Thank God, no ! " 
 
 "Is it some bad news for the country, a 
 defeat?" 
 
 "Thank God, no!" 
 
 "Oh, tell me!" 
 
 " My business is gone wrong." 
 
 " Badly ? "
 
 262 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 " Yes. I shall lose nearly half my fortune. 
 Not a cent of Southern collections. I warned 
 'em. I told the boys to trim sail. We supposed 
 we had. But, Heaven help us, my dear, I'll 
 keep the home ; I will! Only it seems too bad 
 for an old fellow like me to have to take to 
 the quarter-deck again ! " 
 
 "What, go to sea?" winding closer to him. 
 
 " I do n't know but that's what 't will come 
 to. Where is Laura, poor child ? " 
 
 " Up in Mark's room rearranging the trunks. 
 Indeed poor child, as you say, when we tell her, 
 for she has been as happy as a bird all day at 
 the thought of our getting off to-morrow." 
 
 " We will not tell her at present, wife. 
 Cheer up. Let 's go down to dinner. I shall 
 know more in a day or two. After all, it 
 would n't be the worst lot in the world to live 
 in the cabin with me, would it ? Hey ? " and 
 his stout heart got the mastery for the moment 
 at five and sixty as if he were forty years 
 younger. 
 
 Cheer up ? As if that loyal lady ever needed 
 such an exhortation. As if any good wife, in 
 good health, ever needed the exhortation at the 
 time, ever memorable in our households, when 
 " business went wrong, and very badly wrong ! "
 
 NOT TO BE CAMP-FOLLOWERS, 263 
 
 No ; it is the man who mouths the exhortation 
 who needs it most. 
 
 " You don 't take my misfortunes much U 
 heart," said the captain, as they descended to 
 the dining-room, rather disposed for one moment, 
 notwithstanding his own exhortations, to be 
 piqued at his wife's calmness, and misinterpret 
 ing it. 
 
 "My dear, how can you so misunderstand 
 me ? " she asked, ready to show her woman's 
 terror over business reverses in a moment. 
 
 "True, shipmate, true, I have myself taught 
 you to trust the compass and chart, and look the 
 storm in the eye. Riches may take to themselves 
 wings, but this is the time to show what our 
 faith in God can do. We've got somewhat comin' 
 to us when we get to port," casting his eyes 
 upward: "At all events, you can drive in the 
 park yet." 
 
 " God help us to hide it from Laura, and by 
 pitiable excuses to adjourn the hope she has of 
 meeting her husband," sighed Mrs. Broon. 
 " Shall we ever join husband and wife ? " 
 
 It was not, however, an easy task, this putting 
 off the day with Laura. She fed on Mark's 
 letters, which came as regularly as the sultry 
 summer mornings. Her mother also wrote her,
 
 264 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 and Madge Hardy wrote all the astonishing 
 news from the New England farm. That gave 
 the two caged ladies something to talk about. 
 The heat was something terrific to fight against 
 those long days of waiting; a week of days, 
 before they knew it, two weeks, a month. A 
 month behind the blinds, all the shimmering 
 July mornings and scorching afternoons, with 
 the up-town pavements of those aristocratic streets 
 as deserted as a country road-way. A month of 
 twilight drives through the neighboring park, 
 and back again to a month of distressful sultry 
 nights, in which it was difficult to sleep. 
 
 "To-morrow, my dears. I hope we may get 
 away to-morrow." 
 
 For a whole month this was . the good captain's 
 vesper chant of cheer. Yet every morning took 
 him away from the breakfast table in a great 
 hurry of inexorable business for that day. 
 
 One evening, about the month's close, as the 
 captain returned, his wife drew him into the 
 library, and began, very gravely: 
 
 " It is telling on her, this country girl. She is 
 not so rosy as she was, cooped in these hot 
 walls." 
 
 "I realize it," responded the captain, sadly," 
 yet with the slightest gleam of cheer in his
 
 NOT TO BE CAMP-FOLLOWERS. 26$ 
 
 eyes. It is telling on us all," and the gleam 
 faded, puzzling her. "But, mother, I I have 
 sold the Long Branch property. There is no 
 place to go to there. I you must I have 
 brought up the deed for you to sign." 
 
 With prompt cheer of her own she just led 
 him into the library, got pen and ink ready, and 
 offered to search his pockets for the document, 
 since he still hesitated. 
 
 "You are good pluck, wife," he said, rubbing 
 his big hand across the veins on his purple 
 forehead. " But, thank God, there 's salt money 
 enough left yet for this house of yours ; that is, 
 by mortgaging my son's house." 
 
 And he heaved a sigh. 
 
 Then Laura came in, sweet and sunny, .in 
 pretty evening dress. Seeing them busy, she 
 passed on into the adjacent parlors and touched 
 the piano lightly. The two old folks became 
 tranquil in the music, and got on their smiles 
 again. After a while the captain called to her : 
 
 " Come in, my child. I say, your husband will 
 DC in town to-morrow ! " 
 
 "Oh, papa, Mark here?" 
 
 And she flew at them, color enough now, 
 kissing them both, and then swooping down on 
 a hassock at the old man's side, too eager to 
 ask, but waiting for more news.
 
 2 66 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 "That is, he will be at the store, my dears. 
 I have asked him to get a furlough long enough 
 to come home and sign some important business 
 papers." 
 
 "At the store, indeed, father!" exclaimed the 
 elder lady. "But of course we shall have him 
 up here for a week, at least. Think of that, 
 young lady ! " with a love tap of her fan on the 
 charming upturned head. 
 
 But the charming head had been using its 
 eyes on the old face, and read enough to drop 
 on the knee before the old lips replied: 
 
 "Why, no, I fear not, messmates." 
 
 Then clearing his throat : 
 
 " Fact is, I had great difficulty in getting the 
 colonel " 
 
 " Colonel ? " Laura glances up. " He has his 
 promotion then ! He was to telegraph me, so 
 his letter said." 
 
 "He is coming to tell you himself, dear one," 
 esumed the captain. "What, most ready to 
 cry ? Look, mother, at those eyes." 
 
 But the eyes were too quick for them both 
 and were hidden again on the paternal knee. 
 
 " But, father," Mrs. Broon, the elder, took it 
 up, "that is splendid news in our time of trou 
 ble."
 
 NOT TO BE CAMP-FOLLOWERS. 267 
 
 " Hush ! Trouble ? " with a warning look from 
 the captain. 
 
 But that was another straw for Laura, and 
 she braided it quickly, though silently, into the 
 suspicions she had long been at work upon. 
 
 " Yes ; but a colonel can do as he pleases, I 
 should suppose," resumed the elder wife. 
 
 " On the contrary, his promotion runs right 
 across our bows. He has been half-expectin' it 
 for two weeks, or we would have had him 
 home here on a furlough before this. Now 
 that he has his regiment in hand he must be 
 on deck all the while. Everything is gettin' 
 ready to sail, at Washington. Discipline and 
 drill, preparing for the great " On to Richmond " 
 that you read about in the morning papers. 
 Why, it took two governors and three generals, 
 all friends of mine, to get this boy leave of ab- 
 sence long enough to run on here for a day." 
 
 There was nothing for it but to fill up the 
 remnant of the fevered evening with consulting 
 railway time-tables, counting the hours, and re- 
 ducing them to the minutes that Mark could be 
 in town ; subtracting the moments necessary for 
 the business transaction ; planning the lunch at a 
 down-town hotel, where at least they could all 
 have a little family privacy; and ordering the
 
 2 68 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 carriage for the morning in time to cross and 
 meet Mark on the Jersey side of the ferry. 
 Somehow the whole evening was almost happily 
 spent over such delightful trifles. 
 
 Yet Laura took most of the night to add to 
 the arrangements ; planning and plotting, even 
 daring to attempt opposition to the authority of 
 the government itself, and keep him a day ; 
 planning and plotting, and counting the chimes 
 that struck the hours from a neighboring steeple 
 upon the lifeless air of the brazen night, and 
 only falling asleep for a little towards morning 
 after she had thought out everything, even to 
 the minutest details of the dressing that should 
 please him most, "which is not easy to decide," 
 she murmured to herself, "for how little I know 
 of my husband's tastes in matters of dress ! " 
 However, the womanliness of the thought gave 
 nature sway once more, and with her prayers 
 finally said, she fell asleep. 
 
 "I have ordered an extra carriage for mother 
 and me, my dear," was the captain's salutation 
 in the morning, as soon as Laura descended the 
 stairs. 
 
 The old man was pacing the parlors, hands 
 behind him, in the old swaggering, quarter-deck 
 walk. And you may as well know it, reader,
 
 NOT TO BE CAMP-FOLLOWERS. 269 
 
 he had been pacing there a good part of the 
 night. 
 
 " You will take our carriage, with old Ned to 
 drive"; you know Ned's safe as as the Union 
 itself. Go over and meet Mark, and come with 
 him to the office." 
 
 So you may picture her, under the old sheds 
 across the North River, that serve the richest 
 of railway corporations for a station, waiting an 
 hour later the rumble of the train. You may 
 picture the rumbling train itself ; the final hiss 
 of steam and the halt ; the crowd of people 
 drumming the plank walks with eager, hastening 
 heels, and pouring about the few carriages like 
 a gray sea; the weary, anxious people, the ex- 
 cited people who tramped into the metropolis 
 those mornings, not knowing what a day would 
 bring forth ; people snatching at the morning 
 papers as they rubbed their eyes open to the 
 early light ; people who turned and wiped their 
 perspiring brows, and looked with envy on the 
 few luxurious carriages that would save some 
 fellow a hot walk ; and people, too, who stopped 
 to gaze on the erect form, in handsome uni- 
 form, guessing at the shoulder-straps, and making 
 all sorts of blunders as to the rank indicated in 
 those days when it was all new to them, of
 
 2 7 o A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 Mark Broon, who was threading his way promptly 
 through the crowd towards old Ned's white, 
 woolly head and the horses easily recognized. 
 
 You may picture the bride of weeks, too, at 
 first face at window, then demurely shrinking 
 back to her corner, laughing eyes easily distin- 
 guishing the handsome comer, as he towered 
 mostly above the gray sea, wondering if he 
 guessed who was in the shadowed vehicle, face 
 glowing against the blue silk, lips apart, and 
 ready to speak, fingers toying with the hand- 
 rest, the hands ready to be outstretched. 
 
 ' Now ! " 
 
 "Well, well, it is worth worlds to be here, 
 even for a few hours, isn't it, Laura ? At any 
 rate, I think so." 
 
 "Do not colonels ever take their wives along 
 with them?" 
 
 "How should I know, now, sweetheart, what 
 colonels do ? I 've been a colonel only about two 
 days." 
 
 "Which is a kind way of saying no." 
 "That is, at present, Laura. We expect every 
 day to to how do you like it?" 
 
 For she was nervously fingering the eagle on 
 his shoulder, and he would talk about that rather 
 than "advances into the enemy's country."
 
 NOT TO BE CAMP-FOLLOWERS, 
 
 271 
 
 " I think you look like a general. Oh, how 
 becoming it all is ! If only there was n't any 
 danger ! " 
 
 " Well, now," imprisoning her hands, " tell me 
 all about yourself; everything that you have been 
 doing, and let 's leave the wars a thousand miles 
 away, for this day. What splendid letters you 
 write me. I feast on them." 
 
 And that made up the ride to the office : 
 things that count for nothing in histories ; yet 
 happy the heart whose histories are made up of 
 such beatific nothings. This, however, was said, 
 which is of public importance, just before they 
 reached the store : 
 
 " By the way, Laura, to whom do you sup- 
 pose I have orders to report, here in town ? 
 Prepare to be surprised." 
 
 " More business, besides your father's ? It 's 
 too bad! It's just wicked!" 
 
 " Now, now, you little rebel ! But guess 
 whom. No, you cannot. I '11 tell you. I must 
 call on our friend, Col. Erastus Smiles, in 
 charge of transports for troops here. That is, 
 he has the chartering of steamers for govern- 
 ment use. What do you think of that?" with 
 a good-natured laugh, notwithstanding. 
 
 "Report to him? Is he more of a colons 
 tha.i you are ? " with charming resentment.
 
 2/2 
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 " My superior, you mean ? " laughing heartily. 
 " Oh, dear, no. It only transpires that, as he is 
 supposed to have vessels in readiness for all 
 uses like mine " 
 
 " What uses can you have for ships, my lord ? 
 Are they going to send you to some more in- 
 accessible place than even that Virginia camp 
 over the Potomac?" 
 
 " Maybe ; I can never tell. It makes no dif- 
 ference, my good wife, where we are sent, so 
 we close this miserable business within the 
 next three months, does it ? I may be sent to 
 South Carolina. I would like to take my boys 
 down to that rascally, plucky Charleston." 
 
 "Oh, you are a real soldier boy, I see. I 
 can have no effect on you if I try, which I 
 would not, Mark. No ; I'm going to send you 
 off with a cheer; I truly am. Indeed, I think 
 if I did not, you would never come back to 
 me ; for your heart is in this war. Now, no 
 doubt, you can find it possible to even think 
 well of Erastus Smiles, since he's a comrade in 
 arms," almost pouting at him. 
 
 " I certainly hope so, Laura, though his situ- 
 ation is not the most self-sacrificing in the 
 world. However, someone must perform the du- 
 ties given to him. But here we are."
 
 NOT TO BE CAMP-FOLLOWERS. 273 
 
 " Well, Bob, God bless the boy ! " exclaimed 
 th'e old captain ; and he embraced his son. 
 " Come inside. Have n't much time. Thank 
 Heaven I see ye once more. But say a word 
 of salute to mother and come inside, yes, in- 
 side." 
 
 "Ah, mother," said Mark, cordially, "it is good 
 as a feast to see you," and he kissed her. "Now 
 I'll obey my father like a dutiful son, and go 
 into the private office awhile. Is he very much 
 affected, do you think, mother? That is, has it 
 told on his strength to any perceptible degree, 
 do you think ? " 
 
 " What told on his strength ? " with a look of 
 alarm. 
 
 " Do n't you know all about it ? " with a sur- 
 prised pause. 
 
 Then glancing at Laura his face fell ; but 
 promptly collecting himself he conducted the two 
 ladies into the prettily furnished nook devoted 
 to favored visitors, just back of the row of 
 book-keepers, and saw them seated. He said 
 nothing more ; indeed, it was not necessary, for 
 what could one say, unless he said the worst ? 
 And this, it was evident, could not be adjourned 
 long. An atmosphere of gloom enveloped the 
 whole establishment. It was visible in the nods
 
 274 
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 of recognition which everybody gave him and 
 them as they passed ; it was an unmistakable pity 
 which softened every sombre countenance. 
 
 Mark followed his father through the private 
 doors. What an interminable hour that was 
 which followed ! 
 
 "I have counted every window in that front 
 opposite. Just sixty windows, mamma," said 
 Laura, demurely, standing and gazing out. "And 
 I can see twenty-three persons, at various desks, 
 through the various windows, all writing. I 
 wonder if the war makes any of them misera- 
 ble." 
 
 Still no answer, and so a quick challenge at 
 last : 
 
 " What are you thinking about, mamma ? " 
 
 " I ? " recalled to herself, was the elder lady's 
 reply. " I was thinking that those clerks out 
 there knew more about us, our affairs, I mean, 
 than you and I do. Close the door, my child, 
 and come sit down by me. It is plainly my 
 duty to begin this sad story. It will be easier 
 for you to hear what our husbands have to say 
 when they come out to us." 
 
 "I believe I know what you will say," was 
 Laura's instant answer, approaching and standing 
 erect in front of Mrs. Broon. " We are going
 
 NOT TO BE CAMP-FOLLOWERS. 
 
 to be poor. Well, what of that ? I did not 
 marry Mark for his money, you know, mamma 
 Broon." 
 
 " We all know that, my dear. But but you 
 have no idea how much it costs to live here in 
 town, and what changes " 
 
 " I have property," with two small gloves ex- 
 tended, palms open. 
 
 " Which you will need to prosecute Dr. Smiles, 
 and defend your mother's home against him." 
 
 "Oh, has mamma indeed done that wicked 
 thing at last ? and in spite of her last letter's 
 assurances ? And you have known it, and kept 
 it from me ? " reproachfully. 
 
 This further distress swept over the courageous 
 girl like an added gust when a tree has well 
 faced the hardest of the storm. She dropped 
 instantly into a chair, overcome even more by 
 the sense of the long-dreaded social humiliation 
 than by the fear of pecuniary calamities. 
 
 "You know the man has become quite a hero 
 up there, of late, by the stand he has taken 
 regarding the war. And his son has gone to 
 the war. Your mother evidently has been glad 
 to welcome him again, and even your uncle 
 found his wife and Madge deceived, it seems, 
 when he arrived there yesterday. At all events,
 
 276 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 he has telegraphed my husband that your moth- 
 er has actually signed papers by which Smiles 
 leases the farm for his preposterous sanitary 
 affair for a term of years." 
 
 " Oh, God, help me ! help me ! I must go 
 to " 
 
 " No, you must go nowhere just yet," said 
 the other lady, tenderly taking the poor, shame- 
 faced girl in her arms. 
 
 Indeed, they were both now on their feet, 
 and Laura's face was hidden on her friend's 
 shoulder. 
 
 "Now it has been all very abrupt and wrong, 
 perhaps," resumed the elder lady, soothingly, "to 
 tell you this here. But what else could I do? 
 I thought, perhaps, it would be easier for you 
 to hear it just when you could pour it all into 
 your husband's ear." 
 
 " My husband ! " cried Laura, lifting her face. 
 " It is as if I had no husband. I have never 
 been two hours in his society alone since we 
 were wed." 
 
 "Oh, dear child, that is true. It all comes 
 of these weddings in war-time. I don't know 
 as we shall ever see you together." 
 
 " I know we never shall belong to each other," 
 said Laura, "I have had a dream of late "
 
 NOT TO BE CAMP-FOLLOWERS. 
 
 277 
 
 " Hush, child. Believe in God. Dreams are 
 unreliable," the elder Mrs. Broon exclaimed. 
 
 " Captain Broon," the young wife suddenly 
 cried out, looking up as that gentleman opened 
 the door of the inner office, his old face fur- 
 rowed and fevered. "Papa Broon," she changed 
 it in pathetic entreaty, "you assured me that the 
 great God would hear prayer ! " 
 
 " Yes, yes, little one, he will." 
 
 But the old man was so shaken by sight 
 of her that he halted in his tracks, as in his 
 speech, and the documents in his hands trem- 
 bled as if a wind was rustling them. 
 
 " Let us pass, father," said Mark, almost 
 rudely putting that gentleman aside from the 
 doorway. "Laura?" and in a moment his out- 
 stretched arms had almost taken her from his 
 mother. 
 
 " No, Mark, no ! " with a quick step back- 
 ward, away from them all. " I have been the 
 means of family disgrace to you." 
 
 "You certainly have not," said the mother. 
 
 " Dear little craft, no ! " the captain's roar. 
 
 "My precious wife," cried Mark, "how can 
 any fault attach to you ? " and he had her in 
 spite of herself, caressing her tenderly. " You 
 must not, for an instant, indulge such thoughts,
 
 2 ;8 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 Laura. We need all our courage, all our self- 
 jespect, all our fidelity to each other, now. I 
 assure you that we cannot afferd to indulge 
 anything like family vanity " 
 
 " Never had it, boy ! Never were proud of 
 being rich, Mark, never ! " put in the captain. 
 
 "I know, father. But perhaps she might be 
 excused if she had attributed to us a trifle of 
 that common failing," resumed the young hus- 
 band, dropping on a chair, with his wife on his 
 knee. "At all events, Laura, we must go down 
 into the vale of humble things now. We are all 
 poor together." 
 
 " Dear Mark," she protested," that is not it 
 at all. It is the thought of your being involved, 
 through me, with with people of such such 
 disgraceful superstitions and and an unbecom- 
 ing lawsuit about poor mamma's property, and 
 all your friends saying, ' Did he marry into such 
 a crazy family as that ? ' And father Broon has 
 such a horror of that kind of people!" 
 
 They let her sob it out. After an interval of 
 silent waiting, Mark resumed, addressing his wife 
 in tender tones : 
 
 "But, Laura, trust us that we do not for a 
 moment entertain such sentiments. How are 
 you at fault? Unless you suffer your pride to
 
 NOT TO BE CAMP-FOLLOWERS. 
 
 279 
 
 attribute to us what we will not acknowledge, 
 then you would be at fault, my precious wife. 
 Now take good heart. There, I felt certain that 
 you would. Trust, trust. All our life must be 
 one of trust now. We are all poor together." 
 
 "But you would never be happy to return to 
 your dear Eaglecroft with me." 
 
 This with downcast eyes. 
 
 "I have sold it; or mortgaged it for all it is 
 worth." 
 
 The two ladies stared at the two gentlemen. 
 The young man's face was bright and resolute 
 enough, but the old man's face was indescriba- 
 bly sad. 
 
 "But but I shall mortify you just as much 
 here in town," resumed Laura. 
 
 " We shall rent the town house to pay small 
 debts," said the old captain, in turn, his face 
 now brightening with resolution. 
 
 " Father, is it as bad as that ? " asked his 
 wife, very softly, yet with a world of meaning 
 in her suppressed tones. 
 
 " I was afraid to say it till Mark came and 
 helped me out," was his response. 
 
 "What are we to do?" 
 
 This the elder lady, unable altogether to con- 
 trol her distress, and showing a cheek bloodless 
 for the first time in many years.
 
 280 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 "I'll tell you what we are to do, good moth- 
 er," said the colonel, placing Laura in a seat, 
 and providing one for his father, with a kind- 
 ness not to be disobeyed, and then taking his 
 stand before the group in a cheery way. " Father 
 will take a ship for perhaps a year. His old 
 English friends will be only too glad to put the 
 best ship of the line at his disposal. We shall 
 turn over all our property, according to a plan 
 father has already sketched out." 
 
 " Except resin and tar, child. Resin and tar 
 in store. Be exact, boy," said the old man, 
 drumming his feet on the carpet. 
 
 " Well, father, of course, to be exact. But the 
 ladies would hardly understand about your spec- 
 ulation in a loft full of resin and a cellar full 
 of tar," laughed Mark. "Nor do I either, 
 quite." 
 
 "Yes, tell us," exclaimed Mrs. Charles, who 
 was not a dullard at business, after all. 
 
 "Why, you see, wife," said the captain eagerly, 
 "we veer round and mortgage and lighten ship 
 generally, by throwing overboard everything to 
 pay our debts. Then I tell Bob that we have 
 'nuff o' those two products of Florida, resin and 
 tar, to make a clean new fortune, if we keep 
 it for two years, if the war should last as long.
 
 NOT TO BE CAMP-FOLLOWERS. 28 1 
 
 They are only to be got in Florida, and Flor- 
 ida is closed to all the world. Why, every bar. 
 rel of tar has increased ten cents' worth since 
 we begun talkin'." 
 
 "Well, father," Mark broke in, "that is your 
 experiment. Go ahead. But we can't exactly 
 live on resin and tar meanwhile." 
 
 " Sell a little at a time, or borrow money on 
 them," Laura ventured, curiously enough. 
 
 " Ah, you Yankee ! " shouted Mark, and made 
 her smile and blush in spite of herself. " But 
 we have had to borrow about as much money 
 on the stock now as we can. See ? At any 
 rate," taking up her hand and fondling it, " we 
 are to send you two ladies to sea for a few 
 voyages, in the cabin of father's steamer. That 
 will be living in a palace, only it will be afloat. 
 You will not mind hotel life occasionally in 
 port, for a while. And I shall be quite busy 
 with a certain little unpleasantness here in 
 America, meanwhile. Eh ? " 
 
 Silence all round. 
 
 " And now, dear hearts," Mark resumes j 
 straightening up, "we haven't much time for 
 anything but doing the thing in hand. I must 
 go report to this new colonel, who charters 
 transports; and my wife is going with me. Be
 
 282 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME, 
 
 sure of that. I '11 not let her out of my sight 
 during this day," and he stood waiting her com- 
 pliance with the word, still keeping up finely, it 
 must be confessed, the semblance of good cheer 
 and playfulness. 
 
 Laura had his arm in a moment, with a wifely 
 resolution to be very brave. But she could not 
 repress a sob. 
 
 " Poor mamma, with his father, up in the 
 country ! " 
 
 " Our attorney will - attend to all that, love ; 
 and I hope, by your second voyage over, that 
 your mother will be here ready to accompany 
 you." 
 
 They were about entering the carriage at the 
 office door. 
 
 " But, Mark, I cannot, cannot, cannot go 
 away over the ocean, and not see mamma 
 again." 
 
 She stood holding the door of the coupe" 
 irresolutely, as if to enter might be an embark- 
 ation. 
 
 "Why, Laura," with just the slightest shade 
 of expostulation, and for the instant almost drop- 
 ping off his mask of brightness, "what else 
 can you do?" 
 
 "I will will go with you."
 
 NOT TO BE CAMP-FOLLOWERS. 283 
 
 "And do you know, child, that I suspect they 
 mean to send me to sea, regiment and all, 
 down South, along the Gulf somewhere ? " 
 
 " In a ship of that man's providing ? " 
 
 It came like a brush of lightning along the 
 low horizon in the night. 
 
 " What ? " said Mark, an exclamation which 
 we use when we know not what else to say, 
 as he handed her in. 
 
 The noise of Broadway always compels silence 
 for the first few moments, as you drive into it. 
 Meanwhile the new suspicion of his wife got a 
 little hold upon even Colonel Broon's healthy 
 mind. Then, too, these were days of suspicion. 
 No one could tell who was his friend, who foe, 
 especially in New York, and if one wore a 
 conspicuous uniform at which street urchins 
 were constantly calling attention. The presence 
 of his wife made the young officer decidedly 
 nervous before they had traversed a hundred 
 yards. She, too, noticed the all-sorts of sharp 
 eyes and pointing fingers directed at their win- 
 dows. She clutched at his arm, and shrunk 
 back. He snatched at the curtain, as, rousing 
 himself, he answered her eyes : 
 
 "Laura, that is a ridiculous fear. Smiles is a 
 loyal officer in the Union army, with rank and
 
 284 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 interest preventing any, why, what am I say- 
 ing ? How absurd ! " 
 
 Conversation in a street roar is half conjec- 
 ture at best ; here a word, then a silence, while 
 you try to guess its meaning, and what your 
 friend is thinking, and then another word. 
 
 "Absurd that the Smiles people should seek 
 to destroy you," with a closer winding of the 
 hands about his arm. 
 
 "Would be treason. Man would be shot. 
 Send a whole regiment to the bottom ? Too 
 horrible. You are all unstrung," patting her 
 cheek, and on second thought himself quite re- 
 assured were it not for an occasional glance out 
 of the window on his side, as an ugly truck- 
 driver shook a fist at him. 
 
 Fearing, that Laura might catch sight of some 
 token of the great city's questionable loyalty, he 
 pulled the other curtain also. 
 
 "The hot sun, my dear. A scorching day." 
 
 " Can Doctor Smiles be true to anything ? 
 Do you suppose safe treason would seem any 
 obstacle to him, if it served his ends?" 
 
 " My dear girl, how cold your hands are. 
 You '11 be in hysterics yet," trying to laugh, as 
 if that were clear jest. "It is the son, not 
 the old fox, that I have anything to do with.
 
 NOT TO BE CAMP-POLLOWERS. 285 
 
 I '11 not indulge this humor in you another 
 moment, darling. Here we are wasting the few 
 precious moments we have together." 
 
 "But I was reading only last week, in one of 
 your father's books, about English sailors being 
 sent to sea in rotten ships, simply to get the 
 insurance when the old things foundered. And 
 we talked about it, and your father became so 
 eloquent, and he said it might be just the " 
 
 "Not a bit of it, you poor little heart. Father 
 didn't say that it would be just the trick for 
 traitors. You have supplied that from imagina- 
 tion. Now you know you have." 
 
 And he insisted on this interpretation so stoutly, 
 and with such an air of comforting confidence, 
 that he almost chased the unlucky hint of his 
 father's out of her confused mind. 
 
 "Now here we are," he went on, "at this 
 young gentleman 's office. Not a bit like camps 
 of war, is it ? I '11 leave you here just a mo- 
 ment, and when I come back I '11 tell you that 
 Colonel Smiles has actually done me a favor." 
 
 "Don't ask one of him," and she made a mo- 
 tion to follow him. 
 
 " Of course, if you prefer to go in with me. I 
 thought it might not be pleasant. Perhaps, then, 
 at sight of you he '11 offer a favor without my 
 asking."
 
 286 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 "What possible favor?" as they were ascend- 
 ing the steps. 
 
 "Who knows, now, if he be the changed man 
 that he ought to be to enlist under the flag, that 
 he will be just chivalric and romantic enough to 
 give me a choice of transports. A week later, 
 for instance," beaming on her. 
 
 "Then it is truly, indeed, a question of trans- 
 porting you away down South, and you have 
 known it all the while!" 
 
 He answered only with a curious turning of 
 his handsome face. Could the men tell the 
 women, moment by moment, all that they knew 
 of this business of war, any more than they 
 can, in prosy days, the business of money-male/- 
 ing ? Time enough for women to know when 
 the thing is done. 
 
 "Stop!" 
 
 She got the door-knob into her small, strong 
 hand before him. 
 
 "Would that mean a week here in New York 
 with me?" 
 
 What a challenge was in her wonderful face ! 
 
 "I was in hopes of surprising you. But, love, 
 it is a mere frail hope, not worth counting on. 
 Perhaps you had better not entertain it, and 
 thus not be disappointed."
 
 NOT TO BE CAMP-FOLLOWERS. 287 
 
 "But it would mean that, a week with me, if 
 he offered you a change of vessels ; from romance, 
 if you please; seeing the young wife at your 
 side?" 
 
 She still held the door. 
 
 " Yes ; and I had concluded that it would be 
 consistent with my duty to accept. But I '11 not 
 ask it, and there's no real likelihood of such a 
 wild dream." 
 
 "If he offers it, do not do it. No, much as I 
 crave to have your dear society. Rather wait 
 till forty battles have passed, and your God has 
 kept you through them all, in the hope of our 
 sitting hand in hand for an hour or a day all our 
 own. Do the very thing contrary to his sugges- 
 tions ! He has no right to order you." 
 
 " Not of himself. He receives orders from his 
 superior officers. Now I must enter, little wom- 
 an. Take my arm," and he put the arm that 
 now yielded through his own, and passed up 
 into the room.
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 THE TWO COLONELS MEET. 
 
 TT was the usual long, narrow "store" of 
 lower Broadway, running through from street 
 to street which the government had hastily leased 
 for its use. Bare, white walls, hung with dingy 
 paintings of the "Collins Line," and various other 
 ancient craft which the former tenant had not 
 thought worth while to remove. Rows of desks 
 and enclosures for many scribbling clerks, over 
 whom the hot gas-lights blazed at noon. The 
 private office might have been in the dim far 
 back, whose dingy windows shed a struggling 
 gray light part way down the room. The front 
 office, a sort of reception room within a railing, 
 illumined by the flashing sun from the east for 
 the last two hours, and hence the drawn blue 
 curtains, on which were blazoned gilt letterings 
 and the United States coat of arms. 
 
 Within the enclosure, on the richly carpeted 
 floor, a private desk and chair, and Erastus Smiles, 
 bending to his work with such devotion that
 
 THE TWO COLONELS MEET. 289 
 
 he had not noticed that the meridian sun had 
 left his apartments in the almost blue darkness 
 which the curtains occasioned. 
 
 Many were coming and going. The toiling 
 writer paid no heed, but bent still at his hon- 
 est industry, searching papers, passing and re- 
 passing documents as he signed them, now pen 
 between his teeth, now in his nervous ringers. 
 Colonel Smiles wore no uniform whatever, ex- 
 cept a military cap. None, except here and 
 there a visitor, wore uniforms. And yet I re- 
 member that the door-keeper, who with a look 
 of surprise bustled about to find a chair for a 
 lady caller, Mrs. Broon, was dressed in the 
 regulation light and dark blue of a private 
 soldier, and he had his right arm in a sling. 
 It was he alone who returned Colonel Broon's 
 salute. It was he who took the colonel's card 
 politely, as he saw that the writer at the desk 
 had not noticed his visitors among so many 
 that came and went, and bent over the rail to 
 say: 
 
 "Colonel Smiles, Colonel Broon and a lady." 
 
 Pen between teeth, and with a toss of the 
 
 head upward, Smiles instantly snatched off his 
 
 cap, and sprung to his feet. Then advancing 
 
 with unmistakable cordiality under the exterior
 
 2QO A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 of a rather stiffly-worn military salute ( fresh 
 volunteer that he was, you can excuse him, and 
 of all men awkward Erastus Smiles), he put out 
 his hand with : 
 
 " Colonel Broon ! I beg a thousand pardons ! 
 We are driven to death here. You are just 
 from the front, too. The glorious front ! " 
 
 His fine pride prevented his saying that he 
 would himself have preferred the glorious front ; 
 but Mark Broon was too generous a man not to 
 read as much in this earnest, homely face. 
 
 "Expected you, Colonel. Come right in. A 
 chair," he was continuing, with increasing rather 
 than lessening embarrassment, when suddenly he 
 caught sight of the lady. 
 
 "Mrs. Broon?" 
 
 "Why, yes, Colonel," Mark replied. "Really 
 the only day we have had together since our 
 wedding, and I suppose I must return to- 
 night." 
 
 Erastus Smiles was bowing almost reverently 
 to Laura, yet not offering to approach her. His 
 rugged features worked for an instant under a 
 shadow of pain, which lent them interest, if not 
 attractiveness. The sudden after-glow of manli- 
 ness that marked his recovery of self-mastery, 
 gave his face almost a handsome look. Then,
 
 THE TWO COLONELS MEET. 
 
 29* 
 
 too, this officer, with earnest and honest affairs 
 in mind, had changed greatly since they saw 
 him last, not a month ago. Mark was sure he 
 saw it, and Laura might have seen it had she 
 been willing to study for a patient moment the 
 countenance from which her eyes were instantly 
 turned towards the pictured ships on the blank 
 walls. 
 
 "I regret," rejoined Smiles, "that I have any- 
 thing to do with the further separation of bride 
 and groom. No ? You will not sit ? Very 
 well. I'll be brief then. You were about to 
 report to this office, as I am advised by tele- 
 graph from headquarters, to ascertain what 
 steamer, if any, we could at once provide for 
 the transportation of your regiment and three 
 others. By the way, Colonel," with an easy 
 laugh, and recovering something of the confidence 
 of a business man again, "that looks very much 
 as if you might be booked for a star on your 
 shoulder straps in place of that eagle." 
 
 "You astonish me, Colonel Smiles. Am I to 
 command the brigade?" and Broon flushed so 
 red with sudden excitement and pleasure that it 
 was perceptible through his bronze. 
 
 "Well, comrade, it is a shrewd guess of 
 mine. I only know that there are four regi
 
 292 
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 ments to provide for, and you are ordered to 
 report here for their satisfactory accommodation. 
 I am sincerely glad that it fell to my lot to 
 give you the first hint, Broon." 
 
 Mark's eyes searched him for an instant. It 
 could not be possible that an enemy would wear 
 a face of such delight in telling a foe that he 
 had undoubtedly become a general. And, more- 
 over, an ambitious, high - minded young fellow 
 might be supposed to see everything with the 
 most charitable and confident eyes the next 
 moment after seeing such a commission in his 
 immediate future. 
 
 " Smiles, your hand ! I have wronged you in 
 thought. But you need no other apology, I 'm 
 sure, than my sincere request to be counted one 
 of your friends hereafter. And I take this occa- 
 sion to protest to you, Colonel Smiles, that 
 whatever we may feel called upon to do in that 
 ugly matter " 
 
 " In which my strange father is involved with 
 Mrs. Lane. I know. Don 't speak of it, Broon. 
 I beg of you spare me," and he actually hung 
 his head. 
 
 " I will, indeed, Colonel," was Mark Broon's 
 hearty response. " I believe you are a true man, 
 a genuine comrade in arms. You have won me, 
 I do assure you. And, my dear Laura "
 
 THE TWO COLONELS MEET. 
 
 293 
 
 "Have I won her esteem?" eagerly asked 
 Smiles, bending till his lips whispered it in the 
 husband's ear. " No, Broon, I have not. Who 
 can conquer a woman's aversion, once set and 
 founded on so good reasons ? Ah, I played the 
 poltroon ! But God knows all. I congratulate you," 
 and the speaker straightened to his full height 
 to say it, "on having such a father to guide 
 you. Instead of which I must move heaven and 
 earth to circumvent mine to save his own honor. 
 But he is my father, remember that," and his 
 one light and one dark eye flashed for a mo- 
 ment. 
 
 Then he added: 
 
 "If it had not been for my pious mother " 
 
 Then he paused and bit his lip. 
 
 Mark half disliked the aspect of the face, but 
 he turned the topic instantly and generously 
 with : 
 
 "As regards my wife, sir, why, my faiths are 
 her faiths, God bless her ! Yes, my faiths are 
 Laura's faiths ; even too much so. She will 
 absolve your past, since I do, and we shall be 
 friends all round, no doubt," and he ventured 
 to pat Smiles ' shoulder, to lightly dispense with 
 further discussion of a wife's opinions with an- 
 other, always disagreeable among gentlemen, and,
 
 294 
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 as the reader can see, peculiarly so in this case. 
 "Now as regards the steamers." 
 
 " Wait, Colonel Broon. I pray Heaven you do 
 not misconstrue my motive." 
 
 His lips were again inclined to Broon's ear, 
 and the hearer thought the words were fairly 
 hot. 
 
 " I live to conquer that woman's esteem ! " 
 
 Broon started back. But the other caught him 
 by the shoulder, and pulled him again near, 
 saying : 
 
 "I'll do it, if I die to do it!" 
 
 The husband was beginning to burn. 
 
 " But, Broon, never fear. God witness I never 
 will open my lips to speak to her again. No f 
 no, I beg you, do not misunderstand me. She 
 is your true, noble, loyal wife, and God give you 
 long years after I am dead. But before that 
 time she shall, because she is a true woman, 
 speak a kind and perhaps admiring word of the 
 man whom her disesteem stings almost to mad- 
 ness. No," with uplifted 'hand, protesting, "don't 
 reply, Broon. Say not another word. Leave it 
 there. Now come in and take a chair while I 
 make my first attempt in the matter right here 
 in hand." 
 
 The excited attitudes and movements of the
 
 THE TWO COLONELS MEET. 
 
 295 
 
 two young men had not escaped the observation 
 of the lady. As she saw them moving within 
 the enclosure she sprung half up. For her life 
 she could not have stilled her tongue. 
 
 " Mark, remember ! " 
 
 He started perceptibly, and turned to give her 
 a curious glance, but no reply, this young hus- 
 band of hers. And she blushed like scarlet, 
 wishing, oh, so much, that she had not said it. 
 So she went to the window, and began to study 
 that ever-moving Broadway throng, as you and 
 I, reader, perhaps, have more than once done 
 in a troubled hour; and it is strange how 
 comforting in its inspired forgetfulness of one's 
 self a window -study of Broadway has often 
 been. 
 
 ." I heard it, Colonel. I could guess its mean- 
 ing," remarked Smiles with a downcast counte- 
 nance. "But do not offer any palliations. No, 
 not a word," with the same deprecating gesture 
 of his hand. " I deserve it all. Only now hear 
 me, and judge if I do not begin to deserve 
 better. I will not have the two steamers ready 
 till ten days from this date. Do you take ? " 
 
 "Smiles!" exclaimed Broon. "Am I turned 
 seer of future events ? I could almost, for the 
 moment, believe in your father's clairvoyance."
 
 296 
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 " What do you mean, sir ? " almost severely. 
 "We were not to refer to those sad affairs, "I 
 thought." 
 
 "Why, no, my dear fellow," responded Mark, 
 in haste. " Believe me, I did not intend that 
 But what you have offered is just what, in 
 romantic and sentimental dream, I laughingly 
 suggested to Lau my wife you might do. But 
 it was the wildest product of a wish rather than a 
 hope. Are your steamers really ready in this 
 port to-day ? " 
 
 With an equivocal look that meant to confess 
 the very contrary and save his veracity, Colonel 
 Smiles replied : 
 
 " No, sir, not ready, and will not be for ten 
 days. You can get your furlough. And per- 
 haps, my dear sir, a Northern-born boy like you 
 may wish you had strained a point to take it, 
 when you have been down there in the swamps 
 for six months." 
 
 " I understand. I expect we shall see the men 
 die like sheep. Not a very heroic soldier's death 
 that, eh?" 
 
 " It is agreed between us, then," resumed 
 Smiles. On the eighth day of August I can have 
 the Iroquois, the Storm King, and the Portland 
 ready for your brigade at Jersey City docks, 
 and not a day before."
 
 THE TWO COLONELS MEET. 
 
 297 
 
 "But, Colonel, my regiment was to have been 
 ready to come here day after to-morrow. Your 
 dispatches " 
 
 " Never mind my dispatches. I can 't get the 
 crafts ready." 
 
 " But, Smiles, they are ready." 
 
 " Pardon me, you can't prove it." 
 
 " True." 
 
 "Very well. Now go take a wedding trip, 
 you son of wealth, and that you may have a 
 happy day of it I sincerely wish. Tell her that 
 is the poltroon's first humble service." 
 
 Mark Broon might have committed himself 
 but for that last remark. He might have for- 
 gotten his high sense of patriotic duty, his 
 delicate regard for transparent truth, and even 
 his wife's warning, but for that unlucky closing 
 phrase. This, however, recalled him to himself 
 in a moment. 
 
 "I don't like that kind of talk, Smiles!" 
 
 "Very well. Pardon me, and I'll never do 
 my lips the honor to refer to one who is 
 sacredly yours again." 
 
 " But, Colonel," insisted Broon, concluding, on 
 second thought, to give it that turn, " excuse 
 me ; and yet really now does this not seem a 
 'ittle like sharp practice with the government, 
 when every moment counts ? "
 
 298 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 " But it is my doings, and not yours. Leave 
 it to my conscience." 
 
 "I decline, Colonel Smiles. Give me my 
 transports." 
 
 " You will not let me do you this favor ? " 
 
 " Under the circumstances I cannot. It would 
 not be proper." 
 
 " Proper ? You can not mistrust my efforts to 
 please to please you?" 
 
 " It is an evasion of public duty for private 
 reasons. That is, beg pardon, it would seem so 
 to me." 
 
 " No doubt. Curses on it, that I have been 
 brought up to be very indifferent as regards 
 such delicate distinctions of honor." 
 
 " Is that irony? For i^ it is I don't deserve 
 it." 
 
 With a quick turn, face to face, Smiles de- 
 manded : 
 
 " What were your motives in going to war ? " 
 
 With flush, insulted, yet with self-control : 
 
 " I do not understand you, sir." 
 "Oh, of course you do not. I fear we 
 shall never get on as passable friends even. 
 I wanted to go to war and die ! Do you hear 
 it ? To die ! But I got in here. You went to 
 war from love of country. You got in there,
 
 THE TWO COLONELS MEET. 
 
 At the front, where you are likely to die. That's 
 the fate of things. But I will be there yet ! " 
 with clenched hand on table. 
 
 " You must be a most unhappy man ! " ex- 
 claimed Broon, his better feelings all in command 
 again, instantly. 
 
 "Well, now," continued the other, shrewdly 
 following up his advantage, "you'll let me do 
 you, the happy man, a favor ? " 
 
 After a moment's thought : 
 
 " Yes, Colonel Smiles, I will, upon one con- 
 dition." 
 
 "Name it." 
 
 " I'll take the three o'clock express," pulling out 
 his watch, ' and report in Washington, in person, 
 and to the general in command, that I can be 
 got off in ten days ; that private and family 
 reasons make delay desirable for me ; and I will 
 ask if the exigencies of the service will allow 
 it." 
 
 "Then you will not take the service from 
 me ? " 
 
 " My dear sir, you are inclined to be sensi- 
 tive. Your kindness alone suggested and made 
 the plan possible. Now, good-day." 
 
 "Very well ; as you think best. Good-day," 
 was Smiles' reply.
 
 300 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 But, while he rose to his feet to shake hands, 
 he did not emerge from the concealment of his 
 desk. 
 
 " Laura," was Mark's salutation, " I have 
 fifteen minutes in which to catch the train. It 
 is only cutting short my stay by two hours any 
 way, my pet. But don't wear such a sad face, 
 now. Come," himself beaming, "and I'll explain 
 all in the carriage." 
 
 Which he did. When he had finished (his 
 wife had given way to her tears promptly they 
 were in the vehicle, let us note), there came 
 sobbing out one word of protest: 
 
 " Never ! " 
 
 "What's never to be, love?" 
 
 " Never, never a kindness from one of that 
 family ! " 
 
 " But I have given him my word." 
 
 " You should not. There is no obligation that 
 will hold with such men." 
 
 Mark Broon was startled. The wild, strange 
 look in his wife's beautiful eyes filled him with 
 alarm. The distress and excitement of the last 
 few hours, succeeding many days of such hours, 
 was doing her, perhaps, more injury than he had 
 feared, even. The wounds that women get in 
 war-time are of this kind. Invisible bullets strike 
 home, and far from the battle-field.
 
 THE TWO COLONELS MEET. 
 
 301 
 
 " Mark," she cried in a voice strained and 
 unnatural, "you do not know the powers of evil. 
 I do. You think me superstitious. Alas, I did 
 not have a religious training like yours, though I 
 was beginning to believe in the God you worship, 
 and in prayer. But hear me ! " 
 
 She clutched him almost fiercely, and her ac- 
 tions were so violent, in contrast with her 
 usual gentleness : 
 
 " I believe that the ship you sail in will 
 sink! They mean it shall ! " 
 
 "Laura, Laura, my own wife! Come, calm 
 yourself, do!" 
 
 And he tried to restrain her fearful paroxysms 
 of mental anguish. 
 
 But he might as well have argued with the 
 tropic fever in the scorching air. Indeed, he 
 bethought him of the terrible heat as one of the 
 exciting causes of her unnatural state. 
 
 "But your hands are like ice!" he exclaimed, 
 thinking aloud. 
 
 "No, dear, I I am not too warm." 
 
 Though her teeth beginning to chatter, and 
 her person to shiver as she drew herself closer 
 into his embrace, she confessed : 
 
 "That is," chatter, chatter, "my head, at 
 least, is like fire."
 
 302 
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 "You are ill ! We will return," touching the 
 bell, and grasping the speaking tube, through 
 which he called to the driver, " At once and 
 quickly now, my man, to father's store." 
 
 Then, with proper self-possession, to Laura, as 
 he gently pressed her head to his breast, fond- 
 ling her face : 
 
 "If you will be a good, brave girl, now, we 
 shall soon be at home." 
 
 Starting up : " And you will not leave me ? " 
 " Certainly not ; that is, not on this train." 
 "Nor the next, nor the next, nor the next 
 train ! No, not for train after train, and morning 
 after morning ! You will not go in the Smiles 
 ship. No ; not go like the wait ! My head. 
 But I shall catch it in a moment. I'll sing it: 
 
 " ' Three fishers went sailing far down in the west.' " 
 
 She sung the whole of Kingsley's first stanza 
 through. Then, pausing, she complained of the 
 jolting that broke up her tones. She wondered 
 why they drove so fast, since they were not 
 hurrying now for the train. 
 
 "It's all right, dear," Mark reassured her, his 
 voice shaky with his awful apprehensions. 
 
 And he spoke again through the tube to the 
 driver, hoarsely urging:
 
 THE TWO COLONELS MEET. 
 
 303 
 
 " Faster ! Faster ! Like the wind, old fellow ! 
 Kill the horses, if need be ! " 
 
 And this he knew she could not hear. 
 
 Suddenly the poor girl started back from his 
 embrace, and laughed aloud, as she exclaimed: 
 
 " See ! We are flying faster than his evil 
 angels! Oh, Mark, there are evil angels. I 
 know it. I have seen them. Dr. Smiles can 
 call them any time. My mamma thinks them good 
 angels, because they wait on that doctor. But, 
 Mark, they cannot be good angels if they wait 
 on him, can they ? " 
 
 What a horror to him was that beautiful face 
 as it paused for its answer. Those usually ten- 
 der, deep eyes were fierce in their alarm. The 
 complexion was congested till the rich blood 
 seemed almost visible in its red surge and re- 
 treat through the delicate skin. The curling 
 lips showed white. The pretty teeth apart. The 
 luxuriant hair partially undone and falling across 
 the face. It was an aspect of such a frenzy, 
 oncoming or departing, he could not decide 
 which, as, once seen in a countenance we love, 
 has made our hearts stand still. 
 
 " My precious Laura," the husband began 
 again. 
 
 And to his credit, let it be said, the man con- 
 trolled himself admirably.
 
 304 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 "Come, put your head down again against 
 me." 
 
 "Wait," she cried, resisting him, "let me tell 
 you more about the bad angels. No, the good 
 ones this time. Good ones wait on your good 
 papa, and on all good people who have been 
 taught to believe in the good God. But bad 
 ones on others of us. Why, Mark," and she 
 caught hold on the window ledge with one steady- 
 ing hand, while with the other she gestured 
 into his face, her long handsome forefinger em- 
 phasizing her meaningless speech, " Mark, those 
 evil angels can foretell to Dr. Smiles the very 
 steamer that will sink in the sea. But you will 
 not be on board ! " 
 
 And with that last the cold finger touched his 
 forehead, and her face was in his. 
 
 He caught her round about and held her, 
 while he prayed God's mercy on them, and tried 
 for a moment to think with clearness. 
 
 " What an interminable street was this West 
 street ! Ah, we are now turned into Chambers 
 street. We shall soon be in Broadway. She is 
 yet quiet. Father in Heaven, what does this 
 affliction mean ? Oh, what a fool, a dolt, a cruel 
 blunderer I have been! What can I do to undo 
 this ? Of course I shall resign ; a man's first duty
 
 THE TWO COLONELS MEET. 305 
 
 is to his wife. And such a lovely wife ! But is 
 it ? What if all the hearts that are breaking, these 
 days, were to bring back the men who alone can 
 mend them, what, then, of country? Rest will 
 cure her. Yes, I shall beg to stay a week ; a 
 month, if need be. I can go and come. My 
 brigade brigade? What a day of happiness and 
 misery ! She shall go to her mother. No ; that 
 would only make matters worse, with that 
 accursed rascal up there. Mrs. Lane must come 
 here. If I only owned Eaglecroft Long Branch? 
 The cottage is gone ! All our means gone ! Well, 
 well, this is indeed a new sensation. I have 
 no money, think of it ! That 's a new sensation. 
 I wonder what poor people do when they are 
 sick. And father goes to sea next week. How 
 quiet she is now. Rest will restore her." 
 
 Halt ! Loud words outside the curtains and 
 by the horses' heads. They are not at the store ! 
 
 "What is it?" The wild, glorious face just 
 turned like a half-frightened child to ask. 
 
 "A street block, I dare say. Hush, child." 
 
 " No, Mark ; we are pursued ! " 
 
 Colonel Broon saw in a moment that an added 
 strain of excitement would be terrible to one in 
 his wife's state of mind. He threw open the 
 door, revealing his head and shoulders, and saw,
 
 306 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 instantly, the predicament. He laid Laura off his 
 arm, and by vexation and disgust managed to 
 laugh : 
 
 " Arrested for fast driving, my dear. Sit still 
 a half-minute," and he sprung to the pavement. 
 
 " Take your hands off those horses, my manj" 
 he calmly, yet resolutely, commanded the burly 
 police "officer. 
 
 " Not much, my fine feller," was the reply. 
 I '11 take you in, I guess. 'T ain't no army busi- 
 ness as brings a handsome chap like you through 
 the streets at unlawful pace with such a putty 
 picter as that inside." 
 
 For there stood Laura at her husband's back, 
 the most marvelous picture of womanly beauty 
 the officer and the street crowd had ever seen. 
 Such a flood of sunlight on that wonderful head ! 
 What should Broon do? One thing, at all events; 
 for, on glancing up to the buildings opposite, he 
 saw the coat of arms and letterings of Colonel 
 Smiles' headquarters, and that young gentleman, 
 himself, standing in his own peculiar straddle 
 before the wide windows. One thing surely was 
 to be done. He put his wife again into the 
 carriage, with a kind, strong movement, and 
 closed the door. He yet held the handle as he 
 stood in the street.
 
 THE TWO COLONELS MEET. 
 
 307 
 
 "I am on my proper official errands, officer,' 
 he began, "and if you do not stand out of my 
 way, why, then, you'll be one of the first whom 
 we must teach in this town to respect the new 
 order of things." 
 
 It came natural to the soldier to learn the use 
 of, unfortunately, the. ready-drawn revolver. Per- 
 haps it was ill-advised. But the man was des- 
 perate; and it was war-times. The crowd gave 
 way, with a rush backward. The really intelli- 
 gent and well-trained policeman hesitated, though 
 he took the menace cooly, like a veteran, and 
 still held the off animal's bit. 
 
 " May be you 're, correct, Captain. Still, 
 Jim," to an associate on the sidewalk, "run 
 into them army fellers up there and ask who'll 
 vouch fur this 'un." 
 
 " I will vouch for Colonel Broon, General 
 Broon, I should have said!" shouted Erastus 
 Smiles from his upthrown window. "Take hands 
 off, policeman, unless you want trouble!" 
 
 It was all over in a moment. Broon touched 
 his cap to Smiles, thanking Heaven that the 
 curtain was drawn on that side of the carriage, 
 yet, in spite of all things, downright grateful. 
 
 Smiles returned the salute, and had his own 
 thoughts as to why these two were back here
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 again, and driving up Broadway instead of to 
 that train. 
 
 Laura threw her arms convulsively about her 
 husband's neck, as they rolled up the thoroughfare. 
 The tremors that shook her warned him not to 
 tempt her to break the now almost unendurable 
 silence. 
 
 They are now at the door of his father's store. 
 He tells her as much. 
 
 But her eyes are closed. No doubt she has 
 fainted after the chill. But, athlete though he 
 is, the young husband is not quite equal to 
 carrying, bodily, that splendid form. At any 
 rate it would be more seemly to have help. 
 
 " What is it, Bob ? " somehow it seemed as if 
 his father was waiting and watching, always, for 
 every crisis in his son's life, as now for the 
 carriage. 
 
 " Come and see ! " 
 
 The old sailor, physician and captain, as he 
 had been compelled to be for years on the 
 ancient packet ships, at the first glance said : 
 
 " Laura, my child ! You she has not 
 fainted?" 
 
 No, she had not ; for she sat up and looked 
 them full in the face with those pitiful eyes. 
 "May God help you, Markl"
 
 THE TWO COLONELS MEET. 30 , 
 
 Then the old captain turned to finish his 
 sentence in a whisper to his wife standing just 
 behind him : 
 
 " She is insane I " 
 
 As they bore her in the old man moaned : 
 
 "That's what comes of the isms which she 
 was brought up in ! " 
 
 Mark gave him one look of unspeakable dis- 
 tress ; and the tears sprung to the aged eyes as 
 the captain exclaimed : 
 
 "Forgive me, Bob, God knows it all,"
 
 3IO A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 XIV. 
 THE ACCURSED SUPERSTITION AGAIN. 
 
 U T_T AVE you heard anything later, papa?" 
 
 -*- * exclaimed pretty Madge Hardy, spring- 
 ing up into the portly ex-mayor's arms. 
 
 The train had hardly come to a pause in the 
 
 station at S before Miss Hardy had alighted, 
 
 and thus assailed her waiting father. 
 
 "She is home and quiet, Madge dear. Are 
 they in the car ? " responded the perturbed gen- 
 tleman, rearranging his silk hat and standing 
 collar after the above attack. There is, even 
 yet, something very dignifying in those old-time 
 cheek-shaving, almost ear-lacerating stand-up col- 
 lars, especially on a ruddy and full -cheeked 
 elderly gentleman without beard. 
 
 " Now, Philip," remarked Mrs. Hardy, appear- 
 ing after her daughter on the platform of the 
 parlor, "now, Philip, you must indulge poor sis- 
 ter," getting down and kissing the ex-mayor. 
 " Is everything all right at the house ? Of 
 course you see that the girls air the house every
 
 THE ACCURSED SUPERSTITION AGAIN. 3 r T 
 
 day, this hot weather. Yes, sister is in there. 
 Terrible about Laura, is n't it ? Have they given 
 you what you want to eat ? If not, you must 
 blame yourself; you have only to order your 
 own meals. Now, Philip, you must go right on 
 with us. Yes, I see you are all dressed for it. 
 We have no time for lunch, I suppose. Madge 
 ordered it sent in. Do you think Colonel Broon 
 will resign ? Is it true that he has been made 
 a brigadier-general, as the telegram said ? How 
 sad about their losing all their property! I do 
 hope, Philip, that your business " 
 
 "Well," exclaimed the ex-mayor, "give me a 
 chance, my good wife. You are more voluble 
 than ever. I have half a mind not to go on 
 with you. To think of the audacity of that 
 scoundrel ! Did you say he was accompanying 
 Laura 's mother ? " 
 
 " No, I did n't say it, Philip ; but I suppose 
 you may as well know it. He that is, Dr. 
 Smiles is in the car," very humbly and apolo- 
 getically. 
 
 " Why, do you know, old Captain Broon has 
 instituted criminal proceedings against the fellow! 
 Indicted for conspiracy ! " 
 
 Mother and daughter were shocked into silence. 
 Madge Hardy, in particular, gave a little start,
 
 312 
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 and then catching at one of her father's big 
 forefingers, turned decidedly pale. The mother 
 ventured to say : 
 
 "No doubt it is a miserable business all around. 
 But really, Philip, there is one redeeming feature 
 in the man. Or, rather, I should say, we came 
 to regard his son as quite a hero; like Mark, in- 
 deed, lately. He's a colonel in " 
 
 " Yes ; I know. In a Broadway store at five 
 thousand dollars a year. Oh, you see I know all 
 about this affair." 
 
 Yet he did not ; for he looked clear over his 
 own daughter's head. 
 
 " I know. My old friend, the captain, has kept 
 me informed. I wouldn't so much as think of 
 allowing my family to go another step towards 
 New York with that scamp along o' your sister, 
 except to help the old captain. Why, he has to 
 take ship the very moment Laura is able to be 
 left. I got him back again into our line. You 
 know I 'm one of the few American owners." 
 
 Mr. Hardy easily lost his breath late years, 
 and his excitement, with his indignation, had 
 been working up to the explosion point for sev- 
 eral days, with no one before whom the proud old 
 gentleman could explode on family matters at 
 hand.
 
 THE ACCURSED SUPERSTITION AGAIN. 313 
 
 " Philip ! Philip ! Remember where you are ! " 
 his wife expostulated. " Everybody is noticing 
 us!" 
 
 Which was true. The baggage men and the 
 truckmen, the city merchants about taking train, 
 his brother manufacturers and fellow-capitalists 
 returning from vacations, everybody bowed and 
 opened their eyes on the well-known broadcloth 
 that set so well upon the ex-mayor's familiar, 
 portly form. What aristocracy in the wide world 
 is comparable for sway with the aristocracy of 
 the rural city ? And the Hardys were the bright, 
 
 peculiar flower of high caste in S . Well, 
 
 well, we will not quarrel if all aristocrats are 
 as truly noble as Philip Hardy, self-made, and 
 the maker of scores, self-educated, and the edu- 
 cator of hundreds. 
 
 "Yes, papa. Come into the car," urged 
 Madge, guiding him along. 
 
 And as he had evidently resolved to go, she 
 had no real difficulty in securing his compliance. 
 
 " For, papa," she resumed, brightly, at the 
 same time adroitly preventing his passage too 
 far down towards her aunt's compartment at the 
 further end of the car, " papa, you must try to 
 think more kindly of this gentleman. He has 
 been so indulgent and attentive to auntie;
 
 314 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 anc j and, papa," getting hold on his watch- 
 chain, not difficult to do, by the way, "he pro- 
 tested against accompanying her " 
 
 " Yes, pet, I should think so. He 'd better 
 keep away from New York for the present, I 
 should think. Why, we '11 have him in jail or 
 on bail before to-morrow night." 
 
 "My dear Philip, don't!" whispered Mrs. 
 Hardy. "I cannot, of course, fail to condemn 
 Madge's " 
 
 " Mamma ! " exclaimed the young lady, in such 
 genuine distress and confusion that the ever- 
 watchful mother saw instantly that it would be 
 cruel to so much as hint at the warnings here 
 that she had mercilessly expressed in private. 
 
 Strange that the old gentleman did not take 
 alarm. But he was so full, generous heart, of 
 other people's dangers and troubles that he did 
 not. Then, too, I do not suppose fathers are 
 very quick to perceive what mothers see very 
 plainly. 
 
 The train having started, Mrs. Hardy resumed 
 her attack upon the ex-mayor, gently, yet per- 
 sistently : 
 
 "You must go in and speak to them. The 
 idea ! You cannot allow yourself to 'be outdone 
 in courtesy. And I am sure you will be just
 
 THE ACCURSED SJPERSTITIOh AGAIN. 315 
 
 simply surprised," leaning her round person for- 
 ward, and then settling back into her chair 
 with great impressiveness, as if the thought of 
 it quite overcame the speaker, "at the elegant 
 manners and apparent kindness of this strange 
 physician." 
 
 " Humph ! Made a captive of you, too ? " was 
 all the reply she got for some time. 
 
 And yet it was necessary to go into that 
 compartment. Undoubtedly there was no escape. 
 Mrs. Lane, invalid and afflicted, sister to his 
 wife, and mother to his favorite niece, he must 
 go greet her. Nothing can exceed the annoy- 
 ance that a misbehaving kinsman can inflict 
 upon us. And yet it is best never to break 
 the tie. A true man always owns his own ; 
 yes, if he must even follow them into prison to 
 extend the kindred hand. Philip Hardy's wife 
 and daughter knew him too well, either to 
 urge him more, or doubt the issue. They were 
 not unprepared, therefore, when, after ten or fif- 
 teen miles by express train, their t scrupulous 
 husband and father, stickler for the proprieties 
 in conduct, and careful of his company, got up 
 with : 
 
 "Yes, of course. Come; let's all go in and 
 try to cheer up the poor, dear lady."
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 At the door of the compartment, Philip Hardy 
 was quite beaming, as became a brother-in-law, 
 stooping over and kissing the bolstered lady 
 with : 
 
 "Well, Martha, I have good news for you. 
 A telegram of some length was sent me, no 
 doubt the news intended for your ears, when 
 your train should get here." 
 
 And he sat down on the cushion at her 
 side, pulling her hand out and fondling it on 
 his own fat knee, but not so much as noticing 
 the physician to whom he had given them no 
 time to introduce him, saying that " dear Laura 
 was better." 
 
 "Thank God!" the widow sighed 
 
 "Why, yes, Martha," Hardy was quick to 
 reply. "That's good talk. It is God alone 
 whom we are to thank, and depend on, too, in 
 times like these. And " 
 
 He put the conjunctive in to retain his right 
 to the floor, while he made a long pause to im- 
 press his previous speech, watching the widow's 
 face, as if he half suspected that her "thank 
 God " was more habit than piety, according to 
 recent stories. His keen brown eyes also trav- 
 ersed the impassive features of the physician, 
 who sat opposite by the window, and the keen 
 brown eyes for once met their match.
 
 THE ACCURSED SUPERSTITION AGAIN. 317 
 
 " And," Mr. Hardy resumed, " it appears that, 
 after getting her to the house, Laura grew con- 
 siderably calmer. It is thought to be nothing 
 more serious than nervous prostration. Nervous 
 prostration, my dear sister," now giving way to 
 his generous nature rapidly, "nothing more, I'm 
 sure. Only it is so painful an incident, poor, 
 pretty bride ! Such things seem worse in a 
 honeymoon than at any other time, that's all," 
 patting her hand still pressed on his ample 
 knee. 
 
 "Honeymoon, Philip?" Mrs. Lane wearily whis- 
 pered ; and grateful tears, let us hope, were in 
 her eyes. " Laura and Mark never had a honey- 
 moon. He has never been in her society a 
 whole hour, that I know of, since the wedding. 
 Is he to resign and attend to her ? " 
 
 The first vigor that her speech had mani- 
 fested, throbbed a little in that. 
 
 "He is at her side, be assured," replied Mr. 
 Hardy. 
 
 " But you have no doubt what his duty is ? " 
 exclaimed the invalid, actually leaning forward. 
 
 The loyal and puzzled Hardy, hot patriot and 
 kind brother, after all, was about to reply eva- 
 sively, when he caught sight of the smile that 
 was running round the compartment. Dr. Smiles
 
 318 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 had it more fully developed than the others ; 
 the patronizing professional smile with which 
 your physician quenches your own wishes and 
 ideas in his counter will ; the smile that accom- 
 panies a physician's command to the contrary. 
 Hardy read it instantly, and was as much sur- 
 prised as he was pleased. He had an ally, then, 
 in the strange doctor. 
 
 "Papa," Madge made haste to say, "we have 
 been discussing that question of Mark's duty all 
 the way down. She would insist on having our 
 opinions. Papa, let me introduce Dr. Smiles." 
 
 It came just right. The ex-mayor actually 
 put out his hand, though guardedly and in si- 
 lence. The ready doctor took his chance to re- 
 mark, in subdued, sick-room tones : 
 
 "I have been trying to help this good lady's 
 mind into reconciliation with the great and he- 
 roic destiny evidently presented by the gods to 
 her son." 
 
 The thumbs now came into play, though in 
 gentle pressure, as if only wary as yet. 
 
 "The gods" nearly upset things for a mo- 
 ment, it was so far back to Philip Hardy's 
 college days, and so near to the recent scenes 
 of heterodoxy up at the widow's farm. But the 
 black eyes in the corner and the thumbs tri-
 
 THE ACCURSED SUPERSTITION AGAIN. 
 
 319 
 
 umphed. Moment by moment the victory went 
 on. How ? It is impossible to explain. It is 
 even harder to explain in rugged Philip Hardy's 
 case than in the hundreds on hundreds of cases 
 that this inexplicable physician had been sub- 
 duing all the late years of his life. 
 
 " Why, my dear sir, I am glad to find a 
 patriot in you," exclaimed Mr. Hardy, decidedly 
 civil in his tone. 
 
 "I have a son, sir, as you have," resumed 
 the doctor, not looking at Mrs. Hardy, though 
 she was instantly regarding him. " It is a heart- 
 breaking thing to part with a son on such an 
 errand. We professional men and the good, ten- 
 der-souled mothers of the boys," now turning 
 his eyes on Mrs. Hardy, " are much alike. We 
 are not trained in the practical school of you 
 business men and officers of civil government," 
 eyes now on the ex-mayor and thumbs pressing 
 harder. " For a moment the war made a traitor 
 of my heart for my boy's sake. But it has 
 passed." 
 
 "Ahem, yes," the other gentleman replied in 
 amiable confusion. " Wife and I have been on 
 two sides over our Fred. Oh, he has sailed, 
 my dear," to his wife, "just as I telegraphed 
 you he should."
 
 320 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 "Thanks be to God!" said his wife. 
 
 " Why, Sally ! You did n 't suppose I would de- 
 ceive you, did you ? You have n 't, now I think 
 of it, dared ask a word after the boy. She," 
 turning to the rest, "telegraphed me such a 
 prayer the other day, that I couldn't, for the 
 life of me, deny her. So I sent Fred to Europe, 
 for the present, on business." 
 
 "I cannot blame you." 
 
 It was the doctor. It was a home thrust. It 
 completed the struggle for a respectable stand- 
 ing on the just now despised physician's part. 
 
 "No more contempt, if you please," thumbs 
 and eyes said it. 
 
 "Some one had to go," resumed Mr. Hardy, 
 coloring and looking down. "If it had not been 
 Fred, it would have been I." 
 
 " Keep him there ! " said Mrs. Hardy. 
 
 "Oh, I can't promise as to that," replied her 
 husband, and he was just about to attempt a 
 vindication of his patriotism by launching into a 
 heroic and sincere "permission for Fred to do 
 what he pleased when six months had brought 
 him under the old flag again." 
 
 "Do you think the dreadful war will last as 
 long as that, papa?" in pretty trepidation asked 
 Madge.
 
 THE ACCURSED SUPERSTITION AGAIN. 
 
 321 
 
 " I fear it will, daughter," was the grave 
 reply. 
 
 What a frequent question on the lips of our 
 women that was ! With what affrighted faces 
 they asked it of everybody, and meekly listened 
 to the ever-varying replies. Who could tell ? 
 Only God knew. No, not three months. Yes, 
 for years and years. Though not often this last ; 
 only the wisest said that. But it was wise, far- 
 seeing Mr. Hardy's blunt reply to every one. 
 He was so often opposed in it that he seemed 
 almost to regard the war's continuance as a 
 defending of his personal judgment and sagacity. 
 You would not say so good a man prided him- 
 self on such a dread prophecy. And yet when 
 the shrewd doctor remarked : 
 
 "You are right, sir. Many a sad, long year." 
 
 " Why, I respect your discernment, sir," came 
 out with a tone very near to real esteem. 
 
 A few more words in the same line of shrewd 
 mind-reading on the doctor's part, and a great 
 many more of increasing respect and prophesy- 
 ing on the out -spoken ex-mayor's part, as the 
 train sped on, and it seemed time for Smiles to 
 complete his victory. 
 
 It was almost evening now. The western sky 
 over the great uplands of Connecticut was glow-
 
 322 
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 ing in brilliant hues. The car was flooded with 
 a wistful, tender light; a time for dreams and 
 fancies strange. The heavy foliage by the road- 
 side flung troops of shadows, shifting, flitting, 
 through the windows. The features of the dark- 
 ling landscape were not more changeable than 
 the features of this group of people, as now the 
 glow and now the gloom fell over them. The 
 tardy lamps now snapped into their places, but 
 made the nightfall more impressive. The eyes of 
 all were yet trained out of doors, on flecks of 
 cloud, on evening star, on flashes of bright water 
 here and there in the black earth, that responded 
 to the burnished sky. And all grew pensive in 
 the sight. Who has not felt the wizard power of 
 twilight in a railway car ? You are leaving home ; 
 you are approaching home ; you are weary with 
 the journey and with the broad light of a long 
 day, which has insisted on revealing ten thousand 
 sights which you had no interest to see ; and now 
 you are about to be released from seeing, while 
 you may fall to dreaming ; the passing vision 
 of many a home's re-union after the bread- 
 winner's day of toil, making you all the more 
 homesick for your own greeting; the grateful 
 cool of dew-touched dust and sod, of fragrant 
 pines and maples ; and the all-embracing cool of
 
 THE ACCURSED SUPERSTITION AGAIN. 323 
 
 wandering winds, those rovers who so love the 
 night. 
 
 And to all these people sad and anxious care 
 was whispering ; to each a special tale of appre- 
 hension for the midnight. To each, except may 
 be the always calm and self-possessed physician, 
 "master of the Fates and Future," as he some- 
 times told his children. At all events, whether 
 he compelled it or not, he meant to use the 
 silence that held this group in thrall ; he was 
 watching it, did not mean that anyone should 
 break it but himself, and hoped, each moment 
 of this silence, that it yet might be a little 
 more prolonged. Finally, as he detected the 
 ex-mayor's purpose, judged by his drawing a long 
 deep breath, to speak, Smiles placed his taper- 
 ing fingers tip to tip and resumed the conversa- 
 tion where it had been broken. 
 
 " Yes, it will be a long, weary strife." 
 
 His peculiar tones, which I have often wished I 
 could describe, how they startled everybody ! 
 At the same moment he drew the window down 
 with a touch of his elbow, not his hands. Then, 
 over the muffled rumble of the speeding train, 
 he cried : 
 
 " I foresee years of blood ! I foresee hor. 
 ror on horror piled. It is not given unto ali
 
 324 
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 men to read the future ; but it has been given, 
 more than once, to me. For me, poor me, the 
 curtain is lifted, often of late, and even now ! " 
 
 His eyes glowed like fire points in the 
 gloom. His long dark hands were extended, 
 though his wrists were held close up to his 
 chin ; his fingers played in the air. Grotesque 
 and ridiculous ? Yet I would defy you to have 
 laughed or even smiled, the speaker himself 
 was so sincere. 
 
 "I foresee the long line of our sons, there 
 they go, trooping to destruction. That face 
 will never come back again. See ? His old 
 father is looking on, as the boy tears off 
 his old mother's hands, and the ranks form. 
 I can see just where the lad will fall and how 
 he will fall. I could point out his future wounds. 
 I could paint his agony, written en his contorted 
 features, as he lies there gasping for water, just 
 under a shrub that resembles our Northern 
 juniper. Oh, oh, so many of them out of the 
 ranks on ranks that I see marching by, could I 
 follow to the fatal end, if my own nerves would 
 only endure the sight ! But I must not ! " shak- 
 ing his head. " I will not speak in detail. Do 
 I see your boy there and mine?" 
 
 A shriek from Mrs. Hardy seemed to protest 
 against his answering his own question.
 
 THE ACCURSED SUPERSTITION AGAIN. 325 
 
 " God help us, man ! This is dreadful to these 
 women ! " Mr. Hardy managed to exclaim ; yet 
 his indignation trembled along the tones that 
 expressed it. 
 
 " Yes, and to none so dreadful as to me," 
 resumed the man with the fingers. "Yonder 
 city all in flame ! Would you know its name ? 
 I know it"; but I hide it. Those fields covered 
 with the crawling forms of angry worms, on 
 dreadful carnage bent. A battlefield, at this dis- 
 tance, seems like a contest of worms. They 
 come and go, under curtains of smoke, with 
 varying fortune ; now this flag, now that. hall I 
 name the battle and give you the result? It " 
 
 "No!" thundered Mr. Hardy, "Man, are you, 
 too, insane ? To no man has the good God 
 given such powers as you claim ! " 
 
 Yet, though he said it brave enough, even 
 Philip Hardy seemed to have lost the power of a 
 sensible man, to spring to his feet, and either 
 take the wizard by the throat, or these poor 
 ladies by the arm and lead them from the 
 room. 
 
 "I can see the ships that sail so proud away 
 and go down in the sea. Why will men embark 
 in that one, now ? " pointing with his thumb to 
 some imaginary vessel. " She shall surely sink. 
 I could tell them so. I "
 
 326 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 "Doctor Smiles!" now pleaded Mrs. Hardy, 
 her ashen features stiff with fear. 
 
 Madge Hardy sat with folded arms, shrunk 
 into the corner, her lips compressed, her usually 
 sweet face hard as rock. 
 
 Mrs. Lane, the widow, alone sat serene and 
 like one intoxicated. She drank in every pro- 
 phetic word without a sign either of fear or 
 distress. Her hands lay, easy, in her lap. She 
 had not spoken, you observe, for many minutes. 
 There was even a passing gleam of exultation 
 in her eyes, as if her vindication for a "mon- 
 strous belief," as the Hardys had often called it, 
 were come at last. 
 
 None of them had observed the spotted fire 
 that now began to sparkle out of the windows, 
 the lamps of a city's suburbs ; but perhaps the 
 slowing of the train was just the help that 
 sturdy Philip Hardy stood in need of. With a 
 jerk he got upon his feet saying : 
 
 "New Haven, thank the living God!" 
 
 " Why, papa ! " responded Madge. 
 
 "I never meant it so much in any prayer- 
 meeting in my life," said her father. "Thank 
 the living God, who yet rules his own world, 
 that we are still in a real world of flesh and 
 blood, with New Haven five and thirty miles
 
 THE ACCURSED SUPERSTITION AGAIN. 
 
 327 
 
 from Hartford ! A lunch room and biscuit ? 
 Anything material to dispel these delusions in 
 which we have been passing the last, strangest 
 half-hour of my life." 
 
 And without a word he took the unresisting 
 arms of wife and daughter, leading them from 
 the compartment. 
 
 "It makes one think of the Saviour's words 
 in the presence of the supernatural : ' Children, 
 have ye any meat ? ' " 
 
 It was Mrs. Hardy that said it. 
 
 " Do n't, my dear ; do n't couple that sacred 
 name with any such scenes as we have just 
 passed through," groaned the excited husband, as 
 he conducted them to their seats, as far away, 
 fortunately, as possible. 
 
 "Can you eat?" asked his wife. 
 
 "Ravenously!" was the response of this natu- 
 ral man. 
 
 "Well, order it of the porter, papa," whis- 
 pered Madge, clinging about him. "Do not 
 leave us. We are not hungry." 
 
 It was so arranged. And as they began 
 again their journey, flying through the sultry 
 night, they talked. 
 
 "It was not so much what he said," then 
 chicken "as the actions of" chicken, "the
 
 328 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 man. I never want to see him again ! " gnawing 
 at the chicken-bone. 
 
 "But can you explain it, papa?" 
 
 "He has simply shown himself a most delight- 
 ful gentleman, Philip, during our stay at Mar- 
 tha's. He did not call except when she sent 
 for him. He is full of travel, books, a thousand 
 little interesting bits of scientific knowledge, like 
 the lectures of last winter, you remember. Of 
 course, like all scientific men of these times, it 
 is evident that he is an unbeliever. Rather, 
 he has a curious religion of his own. But he 
 never antagonized ours, nor other than respected 
 all our opinions and wishes. At times, to be 
 sure, he was alone with Martha, treating her. 
 But," with a shudder, " we never had any such 
 scenes as this ! " 
 
 She gave this strong man time to finish his 
 eating. Happy he in whom mental excitement 
 excites hunger. He will last ; he will not long 
 lose his balance. 
 
 " Of course all such people have their attrac. 
 tive qualities," began Mr. Hardy. " He is a very 
 fine-looking man. He has had a good education. 
 He is engaging because he seems always compe- 
 tent and strong. He has a fund of incidents 
 necessarily, if, as you say, he has travelled
 
 THE ACCURSED SUPERSTITION AGAIN. 
 
 329 
 
 But he is simply an adventurer, when you have 
 said all," slapping his own round knee. 
 
 "But, papa," timidly remarked Madge, "you 
 yourself must acknowledge that he strangely im- 
 pressed even you." 
 
 "Yes, for the the moment." 
 
 "And you have not quite recovered from the 
 spell even yet, Philip," mused Mrs. Hardy. " I 
 can always tell when you are laboring under 
 excitement." 
 
 "True, wife," he responded gravely. "And 
 mainly am I troubled to think what is coming 
 when we get to New York. What a study it 
 was! What a comment on the way Lane reared 
 and governed his family ! Oh, I used to warn 
 him of the results of no religion, no Sabbath, 
 his skeptical library and free thinking, as he 
 called it." 
 
 "Yes," sighed Mrs. Hardy. "You observed 
 how poor dear Laura's peril was forgotten by 
 her own mother, in her contemplation of this 
 prophet." 
 
 "Prophet!" Hardy blurted out. "Will he dare 
 attempt to accompany her to bluff old Captain 
 Broon's residence? I only wish he would, though! 
 The truth and a lie would meet for once face 
 to face."
 
 330 
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 "That is just it, papa," eagerly put in Madge. 
 "He will leave us at the station. He will join 
 his son. He has protested all the way down, at 
 intervals, that he only accompanied auntie on 
 her importunate insistence." 
 
 "That is true, Philip. Do you expect to find 
 Mark at the house ? " asked Mrs. Hardy. 
 
 " Yes ; but he will, of course, go back to the 
 army as soon as she is fit to leave." 
 
 "Dreadful, isn't it? What will be the solu- 
 tion of the difficulty?" 
 
 "Why, next Tuesday Captain Broon will have 
 to take his ship. And I trust the poor girl 
 will be well enough to cross the ocean with 
 him and his wife. It will be the very best 
 thing for such a disease."
 
 SINK OR FLOAT. 331 
 
 XV. 
 SINK OR FLOAT. 
 
 U TI>ETTER, my dear lady! Decidedly calm- 
 J er ! Yes, yes. Thank God ! So much 
 so that Mark took passage for camp this 
 noon." 
 
 It was hearty old Captain Broon who said it, 
 addressing Mrs. Lane at the car door, under 
 the lights of the Grand Central depot. 
 
 "Ah, well," sighed the lady, "take me to 
 my dear child at once. I must rely on you, 
 brother," turning to Mr. Hardy, "and on you, 
 my good friend," turning now to Captain Broon, 
 and then very disconsolately to both, "for the 
 help in walking that my dear doctor has de- 
 nied me." 
 
 Indeed, she stood on the stone platform alone. 
 To their amazement Madge Hardy and her father 
 had seen her come to the car step alone. On 
 the blank features of Mrs. Hardy at her back 
 they looked in vain for an explanation. She 
 had been commissioned to seek that compart'
 
 3 32 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 ment, and escort her sister and Doctor Smiles ; 
 but Mrs. Hardy's lips barely stammered it out : 
 
 "The the gentleman is gone ! " 
 
 " Oh, yes," responded Mrs. Lane, sadly. " He 
 only consented to accompany me after the most 
 strenuous urging. He finally yielded only because 
 he had a patient here. See ? With those peo- 
 ple. He is going direct to their residence." 
 
 " So that ends that," said Mr. Hardy with a 
 broad smile of relief. 
 
 A remark which Captain Broon puzzled over 
 for a moment, studying with elevated brows and 
 chin the departing group. 
 
 " Oh, ah, yes. Ends it ? Came with you ? " 
 the captain suddenly broke out, as if a good 
 many things had all at once dawned on him. 
 "I wish I was sure it did end it," he half 
 growled aside to the ex-mayor. 
 
 Then the two gentlemen addressed themselves 
 to the task of kindly supporting the widow out 
 to the carriage. 
 
 We have not, therefore, to record any scene 
 on the arrival of the party. At Captain Broon's 
 elegant mansion the visitors were received in the 
 conventional manner with cordial hosts the world 
 ever. The meeting between the invalid mother 
 and the ever-beautiful invalid daughter was con-
 
 SINK OR FLOAT. 
 
 333 
 
 ventional to that degree that the reader's imag. 
 mation can easily depict it. 
 
 Laura was convalescent, though still confined 
 <o her room. It was thought best "not to put 
 the young wife to the strain of another part- 
 ing from her husband," as the physicians agreed ; 
 hence the general, her husband, would not return 
 to see the party sail. Mark had fallen in with 
 the arrangement with costly resolve. He suf- 
 fered the home circle to use whatever artifice 
 was necessary; he would "be detained in the 
 vicinity of Washington," and indeed that required 
 no acting, for his new duties almost necessitated 
 his presence there. 
 
 It required, however, all the magnetic and 
 paternal kindness of the old captain to reason 
 and persuade Laura that it was best for her 
 not to subject herself to the trial of saying a 
 formal farewell. 
 
 "For, you poor dear, you will be back again 
 in less than a month, a new woman. The two 
 passages, over and back, will make you blooming 
 as a rose," said the old fellow. "The noble boy 
 kissed you, so sweet sleepin' as you were the 
 other morning, that morning that you begun to 
 get better, and went off like a hero. He's a 
 great soldier now. He leads five thousand men 
 down South."
 
 334 
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 "Yes, I know, father," she replied, through 
 her tears, it must be confessed. "He writes me 
 this morning that he will sail from this port to 
 somewhere about New Orleans the very week 
 after we sail." 
 
 She began to tremble again at that thought. 
 
 " But I do hope that he will have nothing to 
 do with vessels furnished by " 
 
 And her arm that lay in Captain Broon's, as 
 they gently paced the long parlors, began to 
 press him so heavily that he conducted her to a 
 seat, saying : 
 
 " Exercise enough, child. I do n't believe in 
 the doctors much. Not walkin' on land, but walk- 
 in on deck '11 do it. The spoondrift '11 make 
 your eyes shine." 
 
 " Spoondrift ? " 
 
 "The flyin' foam from a windy sea, my dear. 
 We call it spoondrift." 
 
 "We shall learn all about spoondrift," exclaimed 
 bright Madge Hardy, dashing in and swooping 
 down at her cousin's side. "We shall eat 
 hearty, and give the ship a good name, eh, 
 Captain ? And do lots of things. For I am going 
 too ! Papa has consented." 
 
 " Ye-a-s ; of course. Knew he would veer 
 round," laughed the captain, as he left them.
 
 SINK OR FLOAT. 
 
 335 
 
 Mrs. Lane yielded to her sister's importunities, 
 
 and made ready to go up to S with the 
 
 Hardys till Laura and the Broons had finished 
 at least one voyage. 
 
 The morning came, bright, beautiful, Septem- 
 ber morning. The three ladies, Mrs. Charles 
 Broon, Mrs. Mark Broon, and Madge Hardy 
 came down the steps of the mansion, having 
 turned the key in the door. The Hardys had 
 
 gone back to S , taking the widow along, the 
 
 evening before, to spare her the excitement of the 
 bustling scene on the dock. 
 
 Old Captain Broon was already on his bridge, 
 scanning his everlasting last things to be done 
 before the Atlantic began to turn her wheels. 
 
 " A magnificent man in that uniform ! " ex- 
 claimed Laura, as the carriage drew up at the 
 gangway, and all three of the ladies caught a full 
 view of the dear old fellow, bending over and 
 throwing down a salute to them. 
 
 "Yes, indeed," said his wife, in her quiet, kind 
 way, but glowing with pride, it was plain enough 
 to be seen. "But a great deal more magnificent 
 in soul." 
 
 " Of course," Madge puts in. " But he looks 
 too grand for anything, does n't he ? " 
 
 To which they all assented evidently, whatever
 
 336 A WEDDING IN WAK-TIME. 
 
 such form of words, frequent on the young lady's 
 Jps, may mean. 
 
 Then there was diving through little doorways, 
 threading narrow passageways, finding the splen- 
 did apartments which had been put at the dis- 
 posal of the captain's party. There were many 
 little surprises of comforts and luxuries, delight- 
 ful explorations of nooks and corners, and at- 
 tempts to arrange what needed not to be ar" 
 ranged ; all of which occupied Laura and the 
 captain's careful wife. But Madge Hardy said : 
 
 " You fix things. I 'm going up with Captain 
 Broon." 
 
 Yet, truth is, she got no further than the 
 after-deck, where she stood long, using her glass, 
 which she trained out on the shipping that 
 crowded the neighboring piers. She had been 
 thinking all day that it might be, just possibly 
 might be, and, as the carriage turned into West 
 street, she was sure she had seen another uni- 
 form. Yes, sure ; but not for the world would 
 she have even hinted it to Laura, or betrayed 
 it by any sign. And now, yes, there he is. 
 
 Colonel Smiles stood on the house of a steam- 
 er fast tied near by. Of course he was only 
 about his duties. Indeed, he seemed to be quite 
 occupied, and only casually to have cast his
 
 SINK OR FLOAT. 337 
 
 eyes up on the departing ocean steamer, always 
 an interesting sight. The waist of the steamer 
 on which he stood was swarming with mechan- 
 ics, under his observation. Of course, the pres- 
 ence of his father, plainly to be seen also 
 lounging and smoking about ships, was natural, 
 and had nothing to do with the young colonel's 
 information as to the movements of the Hardys. 
 
 The young officer wore his dress well. Au- 
 thority, too, became him. Madge Hardy, herself 
 charmingly revealed on the almost deserted after- 
 deck, exulted, with a little ripple of delight, to 
 think that she was, after all, nearer right about 
 the capabilities of the young man than any one 
 else of her company seemed to have been. 
 
 " A woman can read a man, and detect what is 
 in him," she said to herself. " Who dare say he 
 is not manly-looking, for all his poor eyes ? He 
 wears a dreadfully grave face, though," studying 
 him through the glass, for they had now ex- 
 changed flutter of handkerchief and doffing of cap. 
 " It is his responsibilities, though, I suppose," 
 she added. 
 
 He now raised a glass. She thought he turned 
 it on every part of the Atlantic, as if in search 
 of someone else. 
 
 "Not to be seen, I hope, sir."
 
 338 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIMh 
 
 Madge spoke it sadly. 
 
 And then Captain Broon having sent an escort 
 to conduct her at least to the bridge to see the 
 ship start, she turned away. The great vessel 
 had begun her long journey. 
 
 It was not until they were half-way to the 
 Narrows that Laura and Mrs. Broon joined them 
 behind the shelter of the captain's canvas. But 
 by that time it was not possible to distinguish 
 aught except the great Humanity whose dwelling- 
 places lay along these neighboring shores. 
 
 From the housetop where Col. Erastus Smiles 
 yet stood and studied the vacant wharf where 
 the Atlantic lay so recently, the long black hull 
 of that outward-bound vessel might for a time 
 have been seen. But our young officer never 
 once looked after her. Which of the two young 
 women were in his mind ? Both, evidently ; with 
 thoughts inclined to linger on the one who had 
 done him the courtesy of a farewell ; for, as he 
 dropped his elbow on the corner of a sky-light, 
 he remarked aloud : 
 
 " A noble woman ! Really, if one had never 
 seen the other, or," a long silence, gazing down 
 through the glass into the dim cabin, then sud- 
 denly looking up and finishing the sentence, "if 
 I could do something, or ever had done any. 
 thing worthy, I should say, of either!"
 
 SINK OR FLOAT. 339 
 
 "I say, Rat!" 
 
 It was his father's shout from below. 
 
 "Yes, sir. I'll be down directly." 
 
 "No, stay there. I'll come up, if I can ever 
 find the gangway. Isn't it gangway?" 
 
 " Companionway, perhaps you mean, sir. But 
 I call it the stairway. Precious little I know 
 about vessels. Right ahead of you to the right, 
 sir," was the colonel's reply, seating himself on 
 a life-raft and awaiting what he suspected was a 
 serious interview. 
 
 Whatever Erastus Smiles' opinion of his father 
 might be, however unwelcome this particular con- 
 ference seemed, now, as ever, the admirable 
 thing about the fellow was that he treated his 
 parent with perfect outward respect. There is 
 always hope for any man who is yet capable of 
 that. 
 
 " Do n't know much about vessels, eh ? " said 
 the doctor, lounging into an attitude before his 
 son, and offering him a cigar, which the young 
 man declined. "Neither" puff, puff, at light- 
 ing his own fresh cigar, " neither do I under- 
 stand much about vessels. But I guess I shall 
 make a good thing out of this one. I bought 
 one-half interest in her for forty thousand ; and 
 if you accept her, as of course you will, we
 
 340 
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 sell her to the government for just one hundred 
 and thirty thousand dollars. How 's that ? " 
 
 " Father ! " exclaimed the young man, spring- 
 ing to his feet and straightening up, every inch 
 of him. 
 
 If you, reader, who first saw him months ago, 
 in dandy dress, and with an adventurer's cun- 
 ning face, could have seen him now ; if even 
 Laura Lane Broon could, and changed her con- 
 tempt to admiration; if ex-mayor. Hardy could, 
 it would have helped matters decidedly. As for 
 Madge, she had no need to, I suspect. 
 
 "Well," sending out smoke wreaths on the 
 sultry, breathless air. "And what has struck 
 you now, my son?" 
 
 " Do you mean to tell me, sir," Erastus 
 began, self-possessed and respectful outwardly 
 again, "that you are an interested party in my 
 judgment of these vessels?" 
 
 " I told you the truth about a cool twenty- 
 five thousand dollar profit on this Storm King, 1 ' 
 was the reply. 
 
 But there was just a shade of the recent and 
 unaccustomed awe of his son in the speaker's 
 features. 
 
 " You do n't decide on her, of course. You 
 have inspectors; the best judges of ships that
 
 SINK OR FLOAT. 341 
 
 you can hire, I hope," with a sly wink. " The 
 insurance men took her for us a month ago, 
 though I confess at a heavy premium, but they 
 took her. There's a way to fix even that. 
 Why, what is the matter with the boy ? He is 
 white as marble. Are you sick?" 
 
 "No,, no," was the reply, waving off the 
 dreadful fingers that began to reach for his 
 wrist, "I am well enough, sir, in body. Would 
 to Heaven I were not ! I father ! " 
 
 " What ? " 
 
 " Do you want to hear the plain truth from 
 me ? " 
 
 " Speak your mind, boy," dropping his black 
 eyes to the deck, and drawing vigorously at his 
 cigar. 
 
 " I am not the one to tell it to you, sir, for 
 I am child and you parent. I can, however, tell 
 you what I shall do. First, God helping me, I 
 will live a clean life the short remnant that is 
 -left me. Second, I will have nothing whatever 
 to do with my office from this moment but to 
 go there and write my resignation. Third, I 
 pray you, for your children's sakes, for our 
 mother's sake, for your own, sir," his voice 
 throbbed with his heart, "to abandon utterly all 
 that you have entered upon with Mrs. Lane's 
 farm"
 
 342 
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 " That is my business. Talk about the 
 steamers, Rat. That is all that concerns you." 
 
 Cigar gone, and thumbs now in use. 
 
 "Pardon me. It is not all that concerns me. 
 You are now defendant in an unsavory lawsuit 
 urged on by that lady's daughter. We all suf- 
 fer under the ill repute. But I leave that to 
 you. I have a fourth point of personal explana- 
 tion, and it is all the more fixed in my mind 
 by your last remark. I shall at once apply to 
 my noble friend, for he shall be such to me 
 General Broon, for any post of danger in his 
 command that will give me a chance to die, 
 without actually throwing life away." 
 
 " You want to die, eh ? It is common with 
 young men in certain experiences of early life." 
 
 Disregarding the sneer, with perfect self-com- 
 mand now, the colonel resumed : 
 
 " I want to redeem life, if I am to live. If 
 I am to live, sir, life shall be handed back to 
 me, from Death itself, as a new gift. You know 
 I never quite consented to this going to war in 
 a New York office." 
 
 " But Broon goes South next week." 
 
 "I told you so, father." 
 
 "And in this steamer, with others." 
 
 "I fear so. It is all we have. These old
 
 SINK OR FLOAT. 
 
 343 
 
 hulks," looking round, "as the inspectors call 
 them, are the best we have. Unfortunately, or 
 fortunately, I had accepted the vessels before I 
 knew that you had any interest in one of them. 
 Now, on every account of honor, I am bound to 
 go to sea in one of them." 
 
 He waited deferentially for any reply his 
 father might see fit to make. 
 
 But Dr. Smiles had no reply. He seated him- 
 self on the skylight, and pressed his thumbs to- 
 gether in unbroken silence. When his son asked 
 him if he would accompany him back 'to the 
 office, there was no reply. When the son sug- 
 gested that they mqet to lunch at the Astor 
 House about noon, there was no reply. When 
 the son begged his father to consider the hot 
 September sun and not expose himself longer on 
 the housetop, there was no reply. Then, reason- 
 ing from a long experience, Erastus Smiles 
 turned to go, saying: 
 
 "You will at least bid me good - morning, 
 father?" 
 
 " Good - morning " was given, and then the 
 thumbs began again to press and roll each other, 
 with all the fingers busily engaged as well. 
 
 After a while, in the stillness and the soli- 
 tude, when an hour had passed, say, Dr. Smiles
 
 344 A WEDDING IN WAR-SIME. 
 
 raised his head, and his eyes followed every line 
 of the steamer up and down. If there was a 
 rail or shroud, a nook or corner, a mast or 
 spar, a boat or davit that he did not study, it 
 was not his fault. He read the steamer like a 
 horoscope. He stared a hard, searching ques- 
 tioner at the inanimate thing, as if she had a 
 soul, and could answer to his stare. His feat- 
 ures worked into that forbidding guise which we 
 have - seen them wear, to the widow's terror in 
 the farm-house parlor, to the Hardys' shock and 
 wonder in the railway car. But here he was 
 alone ; there was no effect to be wrought on 
 others ; it was an effect which he wrought upon 
 himself, wretched man. At all events, he was 
 undoubtedly under some spell. From deck to 
 sky the black glances turned. He was now on 
 his feet. His hands were clasped behind him. 
 His head was thrown violently backward. His 
 hat was fallen to the floor. In relief against 
 the broad new sail of a lazy lighter alongside 
 his professional broadcloth enhancing the effect, 
 he was a maniac, a possible ' suicide of the next 
 moment ; spectators knew not what he was. 
 Workmen, tinning the roof of the neighboring 
 pier-shed, stopped to look at him ; but, being 
 New Yorkers who never spoil a possible sensa
 
 SINK OR FLOAT. 345 
 
 tion, they uttered no protest, waiting to see him 
 plunge. I have conversed with one of these 
 men, and verified my narrative. 
 
 But Doctor Smiles did not spring from that 
 housetop. Instead, after a long, agonized study 
 of the hazy September sky, with a groan and a 
 stamp of the delicate boot upon the sounding 
 floo v , he cried : 
 
 "She will sink! This steamer is one of the 
 fated number ! And Rat on her ! Who will 
 believe me, if I tell them, warning them, how I 
 know ? " 
 
 With that, by jerks his head took the natural 
 position on his shoulders ; by jerks his back- 
 pulled shoulders came into place; by jerks he 
 drew in a natural breath again. It was all in 
 spasms, like reviving from a fit, his bringing 
 his hands to the front, his reaching for and 
 snatching up the hat, and finally his walking 
 away. People saw him cross the torrid open 
 West street with springs, and curious boys would 
 soon have followed had he not hailed a cab 
 and disappeared from view. 
 
 Could this man read the future ? I am not 
 asserting that he could; I am only describing with 
 facts. You are aware that, though no sailor, he 
 was a very capable man in whatsoever direction
 
 346 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 he turned his attention. He had had reason to 
 be informed as to the real condition of the 
 vessels in which he had been speculating ; their 
 seaworthiness, their age, their value. He had 
 been prowling about this particular steamer half 
 the morning, using his own eyes. But, over and 
 above all that normal method of forming a judg- 
 ment, it was evident that the strange man had 
 come himself to put faith in these nervous 
 paroxysms of his by the long practice of their 
 effects upon other men. 
 
 "Who will believe me if I tell them, warning 
 them, how I know ? " 
 
 One is rather glad to learn that he ever said 
 that. It is at least one ray of sincerity. He, 
 at least, believed in his own wild, superstitious 
 vision more than in all that his natural eyes 
 had seen. But, then, that is a common experience 
 with practitioners in delusions ; they become 
 themselves the most deluded. 
 
 Doctor Smiles must have wandered about town ? 
 aimlessly, for some time. Doubtless he was 
 debating the various alternatives of his position. 
 Certainly any one of them was distressing 
 enough. If his son resigned, his trade and its 
 big profit might even yet fall through. Then 
 would come possible exposure of his indifference,
 
 SINK OR FLOAT. 347 
 
 to say the least, as regards the safety of patri- 
 otic soldiers, which would hurt his pfofessional 
 standing greatly in these patriotic days. May 
 be would come another lawsuit and a criminal 
 prosecution; as yet he had not, to his knowl- 
 edge, been so arraigned in the Lane matter. 
 If Erastus should really go to war and get 
 himself killed, well, to tell the truth, this dan- 
 ger terrorized him most ; for, after his own 
 fashion, the man was affectionate towards his 
 own, and would, as he had, risk all to make 
 this boy's fortune in the way he judged desira- 
 ble. But to hazard the utter and final loss of 
 every shred of the son's shaken and already 
 failing affection by confessing that he was not 
 ignorant of the condition of those steamers all 
 the while, and now beg and pray the boy not 
 to go in one of them ! how could he do this, 
 unless he coupled with it an humble penitent 
 turning from all his ways ? But he had come 
 to half believe in his own necromancy. 
 
 It was the twilight of that evening before 
 Doctor Smiles, half frantic and utterly unmanned 
 in spite of himself, burst desperately in at the 
 door of the government office in lower Broad- 
 way with : 
 
 " My son ? Is he at liberty ? Card ! "
 
 348 
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 " He is gone these two hours, sir," replied 
 the clerk. 
 
 It flashed upon him instantly and it made 
 the man stagger whither his son had gone, 
 yet he asked : 
 
 "Whither?" 
 
 "To Washington," was the careless reply. 
 
 Indeed, it was an unimportant fellow who 
 lingered behind, arranging newspaper files and 
 doing odds and ends, before closing. 
 
 "Has has he resigned?" 
 
 A dull, surprised stare in reply showed the 
 doctor how foolishly he was acting and talking. 
 He turned and was about to descend to his 
 carriage. He lingered a moment, however, in 
 that distraught state of mind that overwhelms 
 one when the man you must see or be ruined 
 is simply not to be seen. Striving to collect 
 and rearrange his plans, he stepped up to the 
 great window and stood there, looking vacantly 
 out. Suddenly he beckoned with his hand, and 
 said, aloud : 
 
 "Come in! Come over!" 
 
 Directly the door was pushed nervously open, 
 and a small, gray-haired gentleman entered. The 
 stranger scanned the empty office furtively. Ob- 
 serving the clerk, down the room, he spoke
 
 SINK OR FLOAT. 
 
 349 
 
 very low, as he took the doctor's outstretched 
 hand : 
 
 "It's a bad business all round, Doc." 
 
 " Oh, you lawyers always say so," growled 
 Smiles, in reply. "What now?" 
 
 "That old Broon, a perfect sledge-hammer of 
 a man, direct as a blow from the shoulder " 
 
 " Come, Cretley, you and I have talked about 
 Broon before this. What's the latest ? " 
 
 "Well, he's gone off to sea. His son's in 
 new honors. They have left the entire case to 
 one of the best firms here in town, and " 
 
 "And what, man?" 
 
 "I've been looking for you all day. There is 
 a warrant out for your arrest." 
 
 This the lawyer whispered in the already bur- 
 dened ear of a man who had never come so 
 near losing his self-possession before. 
 
 "The case?" Smiles demanded. 
 
 " Criminal attempt to defraud." 
 
 "Will it lie?" 
 
 "Oh, but you do n't "want to have it tried. 
 You, a famous specialist." 
 
 " What shall I do ? But of course I can get 
 bail easily enough." 
 
 "Not to-night. Court hours over." 
 
 "A night in prison!"
 
 WEDDING IN WAR-TIME 
 
 How fast these whispers flew between the two 
 quick-witted men. 
 
 "Or, you take the evening train for Montreal, 
 on business, of course, to see a great man, 
 or woman, eh ? " with a sly chuckle to encour- 
 age the client always, "who is a patient of 
 yours up there. You will be back any day. 
 May be expected to-morrow, to confront this foul 
 calumny, etc., all of which I shall arrange for 
 the papers. Now be off. They will hardly be 
 prepared for so abrupt a departure, and you '11 
 be safe." 
 
 At the door of the carriage Smiles turned to 
 say: 
 
 " But I can 't come back to-morrow, Cretley." 
 
 "No, no. Not for a month. Can't you get 
 conveniently sick up there?" 
 
 "But," and Smiles drew back to the side- 
 walk, "but, I say, Cretley, it takes my breath 
 away. I can't be gone so long. I must see my 
 son." 
 
 "Go ahead, man," was the reply, with a push 
 towards the carriage door. "Give me your mes- 
 sage to the colonel." 
 
 "I cannot give it. Neither can I stay. Oh, 
 ye fates, what may transpire in a month's 
 time ? "
 
 SINK OR FLOAT. 
 
 351 
 
 As the vehicle rattled up the great thorough- 
 fare the lawyer followed it with glances from 
 under his heavy brows. He seemed half-expect- 
 ant of the man's return. But, after a while, 
 losing sight of the carriage in the throng, he 
 dismissed such a fear and went on up to his 
 club, which was not bad. The lawyer forgets 
 his client, when out of sight, as the doctor had 
 often forgotten his patient, when out of sight. 
 After all, patient and client must bear each his 
 own troubles.
 
 352 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 XVI. 
 WHAT THE SEA DID TO THE SOLDIER. 
 
 " TRAMP, tramp, tramp, the boys are marching, 
 Cheer up, comrades, we will come." 
 
 IT T was the sidewalk throng that started the 
 song, as the troops turned from Chambers 
 street into Broadway ; though in those early days 
 of the war the volunteer soldiery were them- 
 selves often permitted to sing and shout up. 
 roarously the soul-stirring choruses which set on 
 fire many a previously lukewarm heart. 
 
 But in the streets of the metropolis General 
 Broon had decided that it would be more 
 becoming to quiet even the music of the bands, 
 and with the solemn throb of the drums alone 
 to traverse so much of the city as it was 
 necessary to pass over on their way to the 
 Battery, where the transports were awaiting 
 them. 
 
 It was just three weeks after the incidents 
 related in the preceding chapter. Delay is one
 
 WHAT THE SEA DID TO THE SOLDIER. 353 
 
 of the chief fangs of the serpent War. The 
 bright October sunlight, the cool air and the 
 changing attitudes of the now thoroughly loyal 
 city, conspired always, of late, to fill the thor- 
 oughfares with onlookers as often as troops 
 passed. At the cry, " Soldiers ! " every clerk 
 would leave his desk, nearly every merchant 
 drop his business, and hasten to doors and win. 
 dows. It takes an earthquake to wake up New 
 York city, but an earthquake will do it, and 
 when that huge city is once awake her enthu- 
 siasm is sublime. 
 
 General Broon was riding at the head of his 
 brigade. The heavy, measured mutter of the 
 drums, mingling with the thump of the five 
 thousand feet, made certainly a very modest call 
 upon the attention of any one, so he thought. 
 He was more ready to halt his column at 
 obstructions than were the noisy policemen who 
 preceded him. This young man was rather grave 
 than gay over the thought of appearing at the 
 head of an armed force in a city of merchants, 
 where so recently he had walked about a hum- 
 ble citizen. Then, too, Broon's heart was heavy 
 enough, these days, at best, and of all places 
 here, in this city of his once luxurious and 
 happy home, now empty. Indeed, the light-
 
 354 
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 hearted and indulged son of idleness had found 
 a " mission " that made him stern, as only con- 
 science can with a stern task in hand. 
 
 But as the crowds thickened, and the cheers 
 grew more frequent and more loud, as one and 
 another old companion shouted out his name, 
 Broon's spirits arose. He was glad, too, for the 
 sign it was that the metropolis had begun to 
 love the defenders of the Union. So, when at 
 the corner of that great thoroughfare, the most 
 imposing street, take it all in all, in the world, 
 Broadway, the spectators broke into the then 
 new war song: 
 
 "Tramp, tramp, tramp, the boys are marching," 
 
 the young brigadier could not resist the impulse; 
 it was not vanity, but patriotic fervor. He gave 
 the order to the bands. The martial strains 
 seemed eager to respond and swell the wild 
 delight. The two regimental bands allowed him 
 were massed for the occasion. 
 
 There is something thrilling in it, the dear 
 old music of a brass band. A boy may grow a 
 man, but he never grows insensible to that 
 thrill. The musicians gave the people the very 
 music that they had been roaring and singing, 
 and down the long street, block by block, the
 
 WHAT THE SEA DID TO THE SOLDIER. 355 
 
 populace responded in turn. It was a good day. 
 Tt did Mark Broon good. I am glad ; for, poor 
 fellow, he needed it. It was the little of the 
 pageant and the pomp of war that was likely 
 to be vouchsafed to him. It was not grand, 
 not prolonged ; in a half hour it was all over, 
 and Broon had had his Broadway day, as a few 
 hundred other Americans have had, and will 
 have. 
 
 A flush was yet on his handsome face, as 
 he now dismounted, stood on the paddle-box of 
 that old side-wheeler, the Portland, and watched 
 the embarkation of his men in three steamers. 
 He stood there long, faithfully supervising all 
 details, when, suddenly, he said to the orderly 
 at his side : 
 
 "The --th New Hampshire! That's the last. 
 The regiment goes in this steamer. Now go 
 down and tell Captain Smiles, of Company B, 
 that as soon as his men have broken ranks I 
 want to see him in my cabin. We shall be off 
 now within an hour," and he left his post. 
 
 As the little armada, three steamers, passed 
 out over the bar, the lights of Nayesink were 
 fighting with the yellow twilight of the October 
 evening. The sea was calm enough, but the 
 eastern oceanward sky was what the sailors call
 
 356 
 
 WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 wet, and the sodden cloud-bands were closely 
 encroaching upon the brilliant blue and gold of 
 the west. However, there was nothing to attract 
 the attention of a lot of landsmen, these volun- 
 teers, who, having eaten, were singing and 
 otherwise enjoying themselves within the limits 
 of their brief time before "taps." 
 
 General Broon was sitting in his cabin by 
 himself, when, with rap and salute, Captain 
 Smiles entered. 
 
 'Good evening, Captain," he said, rising and 
 offering his hand and a chair. " It has n't been 
 my good fortune to meet you since you got 
 your commission, though I knew you had it. 
 You lost something in rank, I 'm sorry to know, 
 by exchanging for active service. But you are 
 satisfied ? " 
 
 "Yes; and I take this opportunity to very 
 heartily thank you, General Broon," was Captain 
 Smiles' reply, hearty indeed, though a trifle con- 
 strained. 
 
 " Do not stand, Captain," resumed Broon. " I 
 am right glad to have your company, and in 
 this room we can afford to let rank go for 
 nothing. We are in for a gloomy night of it, 
 the captain of the steamer tells me. You have 
 got your post of danger in the line."
 
 WHAT THE SEA DID TO THE SOLDIER. 
 
 357 
 
 " Yes," seating himself, and warming into ease 
 under the cordial hospitality shown him, " I told 
 you I was in earnest about this matter. Do 
 you anticipate that we shall see some active 
 service at once? Or, pardon me, I have no 
 right to ask our destination, even." 
 
 " You happen to know, though," said Broon, 
 laughing. " Your late office was in possession 
 of state secrets. By the way, Cap, I tried hard 
 to get you a major's commission. The very first 
 vacancy " 
 
 "I beg you will not think of it, General 
 Broon. I do assure you I if you will not 
 think me a fool I want to be with the men." 
 
 "And so would I have preferred it," was the 
 frank rejoinder. ' I say, Smiles, I owe you, for 
 misjudging you, an " 
 
 "Again I must interrupt you, General. I am 
 not all patriotism, though I confess the war has 
 changed me mightily. But I 'm sick of life." 
 
 "May I say that it would be, in my judg- 
 ment, wicked for you to expose yourself for that 
 reason ? " 
 
 "Wicked? What is that?" 
 
 Mark Broon was not quite prepared for that. 
 After a moment's silence to frame his answer 
 he replied :
 
 358 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME, 
 
 "Well, life is the gift of God." 
 
 " God ? Really, General Broon, you must par- 
 don me ; but I 'm a frank fellow. I have no 
 idea that God, wherever may be the one which 
 you so denominate, has the slightest interest 
 in me." 
 
 " Smiles, see here," exclaimed Mark Broon, 
 rising to his feet, and steadying himself by lean- 
 ing mostly on the table, but placing, also, one 
 hand on the shoulder-strap of his visitor, "it's 
 getting a trifle rough, is n't it ? Smiles, I say 
 I knew in college the set of fellows you went 
 with were atheistical. I have known something 
 of your peculiar rearing, forgive the reference. 
 But I have an idea that you are too good a 
 fellow to long be satisfied with the gloomy 
 views of things that now enshroud you. Will 
 you let me tell you what I believe, and not 
 think me preaching at you ? " 
 
 The speaker's manner was so sincere, so deli- 
 cate his proffer of sympathy and help, the 
 night was so unutterably black in poor Smiles' 
 soul, that for an instant he wavered. Had it 
 been any other man under heaven but Laura 
 Lane 's husband ! For a moment he made no 
 reply. Then, glancing up : 
 
 "One mistake you make, General. I am not
 
 WHAT THE SEA DID TO THE SOLDIER, 359 
 
 .gnorant. My rearing, of which you speak, was 
 by saintly hands on one side." 
 
 "And I," responded Broon, quick to under- 
 stand and to feel, " I have but the faintest 
 recollection of mine." 
 
 " Mother ? " 
 
 " Mother. I hope you found her well. I told 
 your colonel you must have all the furlough you 
 wanted. 
 
 "Yes, thank you. I can feel her kisses yet. 
 I say, Broon, she is angelic, my mother. She 
 believes. She is the sheet-anchor of our home. 
 I 've not a shadow of doubt that that woman 
 is is on her knees before her God for us this 
 very moment." 
 
 The young fellow's speech was choked in his 
 throat for a little. 
 
 " No doubt of it ! No doubt of it ! " fervently 
 exclaimed Broon. "And my father's prayers 
 and many others." 
 
 That last reference was an unfortunate one, 
 though it came near being worse ; that is, if 
 Broon really was desirous of doing Smiles good, 
 and he was. He took at once the resolution 
 that he had not intended to have attempted till 
 the voyage had made them more familiar. Shak- 
 ing the shoulder on which his hand yet rested, 
 he said :
 
 360 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 " By-the-way, Captain, there is a splendid young 
 creature in that distant ship's saloon with my 
 dear wife, who, may be, prays for you. How do 
 you know?" 
 
 "Miss Hardy?" was the matter-of-fact reply. 
 "Yes, she is a noble girl. But what interest 
 can she have in me?" 
 
 " Well, I do n't say that she has any. But 
 let's talk about it now," seating himself. "Before 
 we get to land it may be you '11 suffer a kind 
 word on the subject of faith, which, I see, you 
 are not inclined to now. Smiles, a down-right 
 Christian woman, a strong, true-hearted woman, a 
 good wife is what you want. And, if I do n't 
 mistake the little signs that I have seen, and if 
 Laura does not write me wrong, Madge Hardy 
 has changed her opinion of you lately." 
 
 " Enough, perhaps, to wish that I was a bet- 
 ter man. But the idea of her looking kindly on 
 such a desperate life as mine! Why, I'm the 
 embodiment of despair. Link Hope with De- 
 spair ? " 
 " She would teach you hope." 
 
 Smiles shook his head ; and yet a softer as- 
 pect spread gradually over his features. He 
 had many times recalled the apparition of beauty 
 that threw him a farewell from the deck of
 
 WHAT THE SEA DID TO THE SOLDIER. 361 
 
 Captain Broon's departing steamer. He felt cer- 
 tain that no one could have known of that ex 
 cept the gracious lady and himself. 
 
 "She would teach you faith also, Captain," re- 
 sumed Broon, in spite of his resolution drifting 
 again into that theme. "Why, Smiles, I can 
 see that old steamer now, let's see," pulling 
 out his watch and going through a mental cal- 
 culation, "she left Queenstown five days ago; 
 it must be after nightfall with them, as with 
 us ; the ladies are in the saloon, I imagine. I 
 can see them silent, thoughtful, praying for us." 
 
 " They must be very nearly in the track of 
 this easterly storm that is pricking on." 
 
 "I had thought of that. God keep them!" 
 was Mark's reply. "I don't believe we are five 
 hundred miles apart," stepping to the window 
 and peering out, "over this same wild sea. 
 Step here, Captain. I declare, it is getting to 
 be what father would call a nasty night." 
 
 "I knew it, General. You have been so ab- 
 sorbed in my poor affairs that you have n't no- 
 ticed how she has been pitching, Do n't you 
 think I'd better go out and look after my 
 men?" 
 
 "Yes, probably you had. Stay. I'll go out 
 with you. I want to see your colonel."
 
 362 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 Together the two officers stumbled out from 
 the narrow little door. Immediately adjacent to 
 the "headquarters" cabin the decks were unen- 
 cumbered. But within twenty feet Broon and 
 Smiles encountered such obstacles to walking as 
 made their advance very difficult. 
 
 Everywhere the prostrate forms of the men. 
 Pillowed upon knapsacks, covered with rubber 
 blankets or stretched on them, and protected by 
 woolens, the troops were coiled up in what 
 scant comfort they could get. 
 
 ''This rain is terrible upon overheated men 
 who have broiled under their loads in Broadway 
 at noon!" exclaimed the commanding officer. 
 "Where is your company, Smiles?" 
 
 "Below, sir. But it is worse down there than 
 here. They are all landsmen and utterly dis- 
 comforted by the sea. I think you had best 
 spare yourself that, General." 
 
 " No, I'll go the rounds with you." 
 
 Broon insisted, and they spent an hour or two, 
 together with the other officers, making what 
 arrangements were possible against the annoyances 
 of the rough night. 
 
 It was midnight when General Broon got 
 back again to his own cabin. He had placed 
 every available square foot of its space at the
 
 WHAT THE SEA DID TO THE SOLDIER. 55? 
 
 J \s 
 
 disposal of various officers, some of whom were 
 already asleep, on the floor, in the berths. 
 
 Mark Broon sat down, and bracing himself in 
 between table and sofa, began to read his 
 Bible, as was his life-long custom at his night's 
 devotions. He had lingered rather longer than 
 usual over the fond pages, with a sense of com- 
 fort in the night's confusion, when a rap at the 
 door announced the captain of the steamer. 
 
 " You wished me to report about the weather 
 and the like, General. It is blowing a gale of 
 wind, sir, and, in my judgment, is only just 
 begun. But I think everything is all right. We 
 are 'bout off Barnegat, sir." 
 
 "Very good, Captain. Keep me posted. The 
 exact state of affairs, you know. I -m a sailor 's 
 son, and was born at sea." 
 
 " Yes, sir. Know your old father, grand 
 man General ? " 
 
 Broon saw the man 's lips move in whisper. 
 He got on his feet, therefore, and gave the 
 whisperer his ear to hear : 
 " We can 't stand a heavy blow, Mr. Broon." 
 
 " On your life, Captain," was the calm, yet 
 impressive reply; " breathe that to no one ! If 
 necessary, run in to Fortress Monroe in the 
 morning. We can rest under her guns. Good' 
 night. I shall be prowling round."
 
 364 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 For a time thereafter Broon sat in silence, 
 except for the heavy breathing of the sleepers 
 about him and the nameless noises of the sea. 
 How grand these noises of the sea, when one 
 sits to listen in a solitary cabin ! How terrible 
 the dull thud of blows that have no echo; the 
 hiss an3 then the treacherous kiss of great 
 waves ; the moan and wail of wandering winds 
 that seem to say a thousand things to you, 
 saying, indeed, just what you are thinking, 
 whether hope or fear, with a vast reduplication 
 in their utterance. Unceasingly the ship herself 
 utters little cries and stifled groanings, which 
 you cannot refuse to hear, poor thing, though 
 you resolve again and again not to heed them. 
 Of all the noises of the sea nothing is so piti- 
 able as the ceaseless lament of the vessel in 
 whose arms you ride. You listen, too, for the 
 throb of her machinery, and it becomes like the 
 beating of your own anxious heart You are in 
 breathless suspense at times, lest, having lost its 
 pulse in the deeps, it should never beat again, 
 this iron heart!. No, thanks to God, it is yet 
 fluttering. There will be once more a resurrec- 
 tion. 
 
 "One is so helpless here, great God!" the 
 young general was saying, though none heard
 
 WHAT THE SEA DID TO THE SOLDIER. 365 
 
 but the One addressed. "And yet we are always 
 helpless but for thee. And, thou Holy One, 
 grant to me that the delight of the sea, the 
 awful relish of these scenes, a pleasure which is 
 an inheritance, may not soothe me into any 
 carelessness of dangers that threaten these un- 
 der my charge. Keep ever before me my grave 
 responsibility. My God, to think of it ! These 
 thousands of brave, true hearts in these vessels. 
 Preserve us. I trust in thee. We have, we will, 
 do all we can. But thou art our only defender. 
 And now, Lord, my precious wife, whom duty 
 has kept from my heart's embrace since the 
 hour we were wed, keep her, O Lord, as she 
 prays thee to keep me. Stretch thine arms 
 over this fretted little league of waters that in- 
 tervenes between that ship and this. How 
 precious it is to think that she, they, and I, 
 may be, this very moment, are talking into the 
 one same loving ear. And, Master, "Lord, give 
 to this young Captain Smiles a peace and hal- 
 lowed calm in faith " 
 
 A sharp rap at the door. 
 
 " Come in." 
 
 An officer, in dripping garments, clutching 
 sword-hilt and overcoat in one hand, while with 
 the other he tried in vain to give a salute, so
 
 366 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 tumbled the ship and so snatched the wind at 
 his hat. It was the officer of the guard. 
 
 ' I report, General, that we have lost the 
 lights of the Iroquois" 
 
 "And the Storm King?" 
 
 "She is just off our quarter yet, but the 
 night is very thick, and we often think we have 
 got out of her sight, too." 
 
 "Very well, Lieutenant," was Broon's reply 
 " It is about all each ship can do, I suppose, 
 to take care of itself. Yet tell the sailing mas- 
 ter we must slow up, if possible." 
 
 " He has done so, sir, and it puts this steamer 
 in great peril," was the response. 
 
 "Very well, again. Tell the captain I'll be 
 with him directly," and Broon reached for his 
 overcoat as the door closed. 
 
 Stepping on deck, the colonel commanding 
 stood before him, shouting above the roar of 
 the winds : 
 
 "The ship's officers have ordered these men 
 below, General." 
 
 " Exactly, Colonel. We are top-heavy." 
 
 "But, God help us, General Broon, they are 
 packed like sardines down there now." 
 
 " Give me your lantern," was the reply. 
 "Now, then, men, follow me down the stairs!"
 
 WHA T THE SEA DID TO THE SOLDIER. 367 
 
 The soldiers could with difficulty stand, but 
 they began to crawl, roll, creep on all fours, 
 pitch and tumble after Broon. Thanks to his 
 sea legs from boyhood, he managed to stand, 
 hold aloft the lantern, and slowly descend the 
 stairs. The colonel was doing his best to "keep 
 alongside." 
 
 "A thousand men in the place that five hun- 
 dred could scarce breathe decently in ! " 
 
 " Give us a breath ! " 
 
 " Hurrah for the Union ! " 
 
 "Tramp, tramp, tramp, etc." 
 
 And shouted names of comrades missed in the 
 confusion, and bitter laughter, and oaths and 
 curses, and hymns and prayers, and groans and 
 yells without a meaning, and a sense of sullen 
 silence mixed with fear ; silence mixed with 
 desperation, which was more impressive than the 
 sounds. The useless officers brushed aside; the 
 useful few, by scream and bellow, vainly strug- 
 gling with this chaos which death alone could 
 hush to order. And death seemed thundering at 
 the door. 
 
 " Oh, Smiles, that you ? Have been watching 
 you as well as I could any one in this gloom," 
 was Broon's cheery salutation, as the captain of 
 Company B came within reach.
 
 368 
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 " A troubled scene, General," was the dry 
 response. 
 
 The speaker's face was more restful than 
 Broon had ever before seen it ; it wore almost 
 a smile of grim humor. 
 
 " Something to do is doing you good, my 
 friend. What ! hurt your hand ? And blood ? " 
 
 "A fellow caught his bayonet in my sleeve, 
 that 's all. What a blunder to let a man go 
 loose in such a mess as this, clinging to his 
 musket ! " 
 
 " True. It should have been his own captain 
 who got hurt." 
 
 Then the howl of winds and other noises of 
 the sea came in to make all conversation im- 
 possible. But the general kept Captain Smiles 
 at his side for the long hours of the dreary 
 night. The task was to do what one could to 
 keep order and to endure. Broon had not a 
 half-dozen officers who could hold their heads 
 up , he and Smiles were everywhere. 
 
 There is nothing heroic in such duties. It is 
 that other virtue, hardihood, less poetic but more 
 valuable than courage. The duty is to endure, 
 not to do. Many suffer, few endure. Ask me 
 for a predicate to misery. I answer, a stormy 
 night in a dangerous sea. Time often goes
 
 WHAT THE SEA DID TO THE SOLDIER. 369 
 
 slowly on land, when we are trying to endure. 
 In mid-ocean time comes to a full halt. 
 
 Would the morning never come ? Why the 
 morning? Because it might possibly reveal the 
 smoke, if no more, of the other two steamers. 
 Their lights have been long invisible. 
 
 At length the lazy morning came, breathing 
 in from the east in hazy half-light and gray. 
 
 " Can you see her ? Either of them ? " 
 
 Broon stood in the wheel-house with a handful 
 of officers, each of whom had been trying the 
 glasses, searching the mountainous plane for a 
 sight of their two consorts. 
 
 No man had the heart to reply. 
 
 " What does the man you sent aloft say ? " 
 to the steamer's captain. 
 
 Only a shake of the head in reply. 
 
 What a vision of cloud-land ! The heavens and 
 earth had no steadfast line of separation for one 
 moment. The next moment the sky rose up 
 from the sea, parting with a roar; the sky 
 opened into great rents and altitudes of silver- 
 gray, through which seams the torrents fell 
 afresh like a deluge. After the torrents, then 
 vast fields of mist, translucent, almost sun- 
 touched from above, then instantly opaque and 
 seemingly as hard as bluffs of blue stone.
 
 370 
 
 WEDDING IN 
 
 Army on army of mists ! Charge on charge of 
 the stinging, blinding ranks ! The eye could not 
 help following these chasers of clouds ; twining 
 wreaths of vapor that were swung like the skip- 
 ping-ropes of children, through which the lum- 
 bering billows gambolled. 
 
 The poor side-wheeler, flat-bottomed for river 
 use, rolled till the sea gushed from her paddle- 
 boxes and clogged her woefully. She stood on 
 end, strangely, in spite of all efforts at ballast- 
 ing. 
 
 " My God ! There's ' a wreck ! " 
 
 Broon snatched the speaker 's glass. After a 
 moment 's deliberate study he replied, his face 
 white enough, but his tone calm : 
 
 "Yes; the Storm King's survivors. Captain, 
 we must near ship I suppose you dare not 
 slow down, and send out for them. That 's 
 probably all there are, not over a dozen men. 
 Oh, God, what a tribute to the sea she made 
 last night!" 
 
 "I want to go, General. Remember!" 
 
 It was Captain Smiles. 
 
 " I haven't the heart to order a sailor," said 
 the master of the ship. 
 
 "Go, old stroke-oar!" fairly yelled Broon, as 
 he grasped Smiles' hand. " You can find some
 
 WHAT THE SEA DID TO THE SOLDIER. 371 
 
 other college men down below there, who '11 
 gladly volunteer." 
 
 And he did find members of certain university 
 crews who volunteered, though it was so rough 
 a job to launch a boat that the steamer's cap- 
 tain drew revolver to compel his deck hands to 
 do so much as that. 
 
 " Gentlemen, that 's well done ! And that ! 
 God help them ! If mortal men can do it, 
 those men will ! " 
 
 General Broon was watching the brave boat, 
 and his hands worked on the window-ledge as if 
 he were tugging at the oar. What a pitiful 
 sight it is, a small boat upon the great curve of 
 an ocean billow, toiling upward, shot downward, 
 on glistening crest, in caverns of green, seen, 
 lost, found, and gone again. 
 
 "Mate," Broon cried, "tell the man at the 
 masthead to hold aloft his hand as long as he 
 can see them. It's no use his shouting to us. 
 Up hand!" 
 
 And a boy was sent up the ratlins to convey 
 the word. 
 
 " Heaven forbid these mists," Broon muttered 
 to the man at the wheel. "Every now and then 
 that fellow at the masthead is half invisible." 
 
 "Yes, General. It was a risky thing sending
 
 372 
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 off a boatload in such thick weather as this is 
 liable to be at any moment." 
 
 Such was the mate's opinion. 
 
 "But, man," was Broon's answer, "Smiles vol- 
 unteered. And we could can, see? we, too, 
 can see the wreck." 
 
 "Yes, sir, by glimpses. But it's likely to shut 
 down like a curtain to your bunk any minute. 
 Pardon me." 
 
 And the sailor took a fresh quid for his cheek 
 and tugged away at the booming whistle. 
 
 The mournful notes of that whistle, at sea, 
 where there is no echo, and the tone falls dead- 
 like on the air, yet ever groaning, sighing, 
 groaning, like the protest of a living creature in 
 the face of the overmastering elements. 
 
 " God forgive me, if I did wrong ! " fairly 
 groaned Mark Broon. 
 
 Was it all mist that wet his manly cheeks ? 
 Surely not all mist of the sea in his fine 
 eyes. 
 
 " But, I say, gentlemen," addressing the other 
 officers about him, " if you or I were clinging 
 to yonder wreck, we would be glad to have a 
 few brave fellows try to reach us?" 
 
 "Certainly, General, certainly," replied all the 
 military officers.
 
 WHAT THE SEA DID TO THE SOLDIER. 
 
 373 
 
 Silence all the ship's officers. 
 
 " What do you say, Captain ? " insisting on 
 some sort of reply from the master, who had 
 just tumbled through the door. 
 
 "That we must," ringing the engineer's bell 
 sharply, "steam on, or go down ourselves, sir. 
 Put her head round ! " 
 
 The eager helmsman let go that wheel in- 
 stantly. How it flew ! 
 
 General Broon gave one sharp, challenging 
 glance at sound of the orders which abandoned 
 that boat-load of rescuers to their fate. Iron- 
 nerved as he was, he yet staggered for an in- 
 stant, and sky, ship, sea began to grow invisible 
 Anger and remorse smote him. He felt like a 
 murderer. With a spring like a tiger, he grasped 
 the master by the throat, and shouted : 
 
 " I '11 put you in irons ! I said luff up for 
 those perishing wretches ? " 
 
 The grizzled sailor said not a word, but 
 accustomed to authority, smote his fists and 
 wrists together, ready for the handcuffs. Then 
 suddenly he turned his face to the sea. Every 
 one understood the gesture of the stiff old 
 neck ; every eye obeyed the motion. 
 
 And there, across the changeful wilderness, a 
 transformation! The waves were bowing down.
 
 374 
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 A mile away the sea seemed level as a plain. 
 The wreck was plainly visible, resting in mo- 
 mentary peace. The long boat was visible, but 
 the rowers sat powerless. Broon, at least, knew 
 what it was. The wind ! 
 
 Behind the dim, far wreck, a bank of black- 
 ness, a besom of power, a sweeping destruction. 
 It reached to the darkening of the noon zenith 
 light already. Already long streamers, ropes, 
 and rags of this black mist swept through the 
 upper sky. A shroud shut out the man at the 
 masthead, and when they saw him again, for 
 an instant, his long-sustained right hand, signal 
 of hope, had dropped, and he was descending 
 unordered. 
 
 The mighty roar that now broke on them 
 would have made his words inaudible. But Mark 
 Broon wrung the hand of the old skipper, with 
 infinite apology, and threw himself back on the 
 seat to await the shock that was to strike 
 them. 
 
 It is impossible to write about the next six 
 hours. Indeed, it is generally impossible for the 
 victims of such hours to realize, much less nar- 
 rate them. A merciful lethargy deadens all 
 consciousness, in most people. They do not 
 know, they do not wish to know, what is hap-
 
 WHAT THE SEA DID TO THE SOLDIER. 
 
 375 
 
 pening. All the day that followed was indescrib- 
 able. Yet Broon, sailor-born, and the ship's 
 ofBcers knew all, felt all, struggled and planned 
 all. 
 
 The night was again shutting down, when 
 Mark Broon, with little hope, yet worn out 
 for three nights now he had been sleepless, 
 sought his cabin to throw himself down for an 
 hour. I ask the reader to believe it. I am not 
 accumulating horrors. The regimented surgeon 
 was there awaiting him, and saying: 
 
 "General Broon, we have cholera on board!" 
 
 The two men stared at each other in silence. 
 But nothing is so calm as despair. Broon has 
 often said since that, after a moment, this new 
 terror seemed to add not a feather's weight to 
 his load. He simply felt curious to ask : 
 
 "Are you sure?" 
 
 "Have been sure since noon." 
 
 "Can you quarantine them?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 Broon has since told me that the professional 
 coolness of the physician in the presence of this 
 Death was the same as on the land ; the sur- 
 geon, utterly fatigued, lighted a cigar. But 
 when, a few moments later, the steamer's cap- 
 tain staggered in with, " General, we have bent
 
 376 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 a piston rod must shut off!" the surgeon 
 sprang up and yelled : 
 
 "What then?" 
 
 "Then, sir," Broon replied, bracing his chair, 
 "we must drift till help comes, or perish!" 
 
 And while he dropped his own head in prayer, 
 the surgeon, frantic, snatched a life-preserver and 
 fled, afraid of this Death. 
 
 "Every man to his calling," Broon remarked, 
 and, clinging hard to his chair, he resumed his 
 silent call on the God of the sea. 
 
 Did the God of the sea hear?
 
 AND WHAT THE GOD OF THE SEA. 
 
 377 
 
 XVII. 
 AND WHAT THE GOD OF THE SEA. 
 
 "1 \ID the God of the sea hear? 
 -* I tell you a plain tale of the answer to 
 prayer, every fact of which I can verify. Read 
 it, believing. God does answer prayer. But his 
 ways are not our ways. 
 
 "Fannin' along, fannin' along, my dears," was 
 Captain Charles Broon 's salutation to Madge 
 Hardy and Laura Broon, as they emerged, arm 
 in arm, from the companion-way of the Atlantic 
 to greet him. He was walking the deck, which 
 was yet encumbered with coils of hose, and wet 
 with the early morning flushing. "Up to greet 
 the clear weather, are ye ? " and he bent both 
 arms of his pea-jacket to take theirs. "Got 
 rubbers?" 
 
 He himself wore jack-boots, and looked almost 
 as rough as the elements he had been combat- 
 ting for the last three days and nights. 
 
 "Didn't expect company so early, and am 
 not dressed, you see."
 
 378 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 They both kissed the old salt for good-morn- 
 ing, and Laura answered, as she tucked herself 
 up to him : 
 
 " I should think the fanning was over. Oh, 
 is n't it a beautiful morning ? " 
 
 " And what brilliant sunlight and sky, except 
 off there towards dear America," added Madge 
 Hardy. 
 
 " Yes, my dears. That 's the storm that has 
 blown by us. Rough along the Yankee coast 
 yet," said the captain. 
 
 "How far are we from Sandy Hook?" asked 
 Laura. 
 
 " We '11 see Fire Island Light afore daybreak 
 to-morrow. And what a handsome, hearty woman 
 I 'm takin' back to her mother," turning affec- 
 tionate eyes on her. " Feel 's well 's ever in your 
 life, do n't you, my dear girl ? " 
 
 "Yes, indeed," with a little skip and a step 
 as elastic as fair youth ever knew. 
 
 Then suddenly the young wife slowed her tread, 
 and Mark 's father saw and understood the shade 
 that came over her bright features. 
 
 "I know, I know," remarked the captain. 
 " I 've been thinkin' all the morning, too ; ye-a-s." 
 
 "It isn't quite as joyous a return home as 
 we could wish," added Madge Hardy, with a
 
 AND WHA T THE GOD OF THE SEA. 379 
 
 meaning that Laura understood, but the old gen- 
 tleman never dreamed it to be other than 
 sympathy with her friend. 
 
 They walked and talked till the bells struck 
 the breakfast hour. They had the deck mostly 
 to themselves, and spoke lovingly and long of 
 Mark Broon, but never a word of Erastus 
 Smiles. The young ladies tried the mention of 
 that name once in Captain 's Broon's presence, 
 after these two pure hearts had shared each 
 other's secret, and Laura had been very gen- 
 erous for her cousin's sake. But the captain 
 had exclaimed : 
 
 " Smiles ? Smiles ? Ye-a-s. A bad lot that. I 
 never want to ship any of 'em when I once 
 get through with the father." 
 
 It was never attempted again. 
 
 "Where do you say Jie is now?" said Laura 
 to her father. 
 
 " We 've each been tryin' to locate Mark, 
 mother," he replied, as they were seated at the 
 table. 
 
 "In dear old Washington, I hope," was the 
 elder lady's reply. 
 
 "In New York," guessed Madge, with a pretty 
 flash of hope in her glance at the mention of 
 the city, which both the other ladies knew how
 
 3 So 
 
 WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 to interpret in connection with the nameless 
 man stationed there. 
 
 He at least was in New York. 
 
 After they had all guessed around, except the 
 captain, they insisted on having his conjecture. 
 They had hardly noticed his reluctance, but now 
 it was manifest in many an attempt to change 
 the subject. They noticed, too, his increasing 
 reticence and abstraction, and wondered at it, 
 for the storm was over, and his iron face should 
 have softened now its. Jiard wrinkles of many 
 hours. When at length they were bound to 
 have his reply, he turned on them, and got up 
 to go, as he answered : 
 
 "I fear at sea." 
 
 It took the ladies some time to shake this 
 off, fanning along, fanning along. The three 
 ladies went on deck, and mingled with the 
 promenaders. They saw the captain on the 
 bridge, walking, ever walking, but he kept, sin- 
 gularly, out of everybody's way, and everybody 
 remarked it. After a while the elder Mrs. Broon 
 got into her chair, and began to crochet, but 
 the two young ladies had yet too much excite- 
 ment of expectation to walk off, and they con- 
 tinued the old, old round. Did you ever take 
 that round, reader, turning at the capstan, or 
 some other way-mark, time after time?
 
 AND WHAT THE GOD OF THE SEA. 381 
 
 Mrs. Charles Broon 's sea-chair was located by 
 the capstan, and as the two girls turned and 
 turned about, she overheard fragments of their 
 conversation. The topic was already familiar, 
 however, in many little motherly confidences 
 which Madge had sought. 
 
 "I do try, Madge, for your sake, to think 
 better of " and the turn was made. 
 
 " Yes, it is so sweet in you ; and all from 
 love of me, dear Laura. But " and the girls 
 being turned again, the winds whisked the rest 
 of the sentence off to sea. 
 
 " No, I '11 not say I love him, yet," said 
 Madge. 
 
 "Oh, I hope not, yet, child. But you do want 
 us to give him a standing, and invite " 
 
 The turn was made. 
 
 " Yes, Madge Hardy. God help me to admire 
 
 a noble character, however much I may have 
 ii 
 
 w ish myself he were a real fighting hero, 
 and Mark told you the man himself " 
 
 The turn again. 
 
 " Do n 't say shed blood, you naughty girl. 
 It breaks my own " 
 
 And again the turning promenaders strode 
 away.
 
 382 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 " Poor girl ! Poor, precious, glorious girl ! " 
 sighed the worker with the crochet, as she 
 turned it down under her hands, and began to 
 think too intently for plying the threads. " What 
 a strange thing is a woman's heart ! What will 
 it all come to ? What will the ex-mayor say ? 
 Love him, indeed ! Of course she does. She is 
 thinking and whispering of him, in her modest 
 way, all the while. And praying for you, too, 
 young man, if you only knew it. How long she 
 lingered on her knees, last night, at her silent 
 prayers. A sweet, good girl. She ought to wed 
 a hero, like our Mark." 
 
 Then she observed that the girls had seated 
 themselves with -a company watching "shuffle 
 board," down the deck, and glancing up, she 
 saw her husband beckoning to her from the 
 bridge. She went towards him, and the old 
 sailor met her at the foot of the ladder, saying, 
 gravely." 
 
 " Wife, I can 't get the thought out of mind 
 that I must put this ship on the other tack." 
 
 She gave him a surprised smile, and an- 
 swered : 
 
 "Well, Charles, I that is if you want to 
 tack " 
 
 "My dear, you never heard of such a crazy
 
 AND WHAT THE GOD OF THE SEA. 
 
 thing as my puttin' to you such a remark, now, 
 did ye? No, nor I either. Look at me. Do I 
 seem ill ? " 
 
 "111?" 
 
 " Yes ; pale-like or unnerved ? " 
 
 "Why, papa, is anything the matter?" she 
 asked, all alarm. 
 
 " No, no. Nothin 's the matter. Only for five 
 or six hours, now, every few minutes, that 
 vagrant thought has been a-hauntin' your old 
 man : ' Put the ship on the other tack ! Put the 
 ship on the other tack ! ' ' 
 
 And he brought his arm round with that 
 emphatic hook movement all his own. 
 
 "Well, Charles, do it, then," she replied, at a 
 loss what else to say. 
 
 " Do it, woman ? You can 't understand what 
 it means to put the ship on the other tack. 
 Why, it would just send us straight back, as it 
 were, towards Liverpool." 
 
 " Oh ! " 
 
 " Yes ; and here we are a-fannin' along straight 
 on to the Hook, fust rate. What a crazy idea 
 to possess a man ! " 
 
 And he cast his eyes round on the sparkling 
 sea with a look of genuine distress of mind. 
 
 " You are tired out, Charles. Can 't you come
 
 384 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 down and sleep a while ? Three such days as 
 we have had ! " 
 
 "I've thought of that; but I'm not tired. I 
 eat, I feel perfectly strong and well," swinging 
 the circling arm. " But say nothin', say noth- 
 in', wife. I wouldn't have a mortal know the 
 old man was indulgin* such weaknesses. It 's a 
 mere wanderin' thought, a mere vagary of the 
 mind," and thrusting his hands into his poekets, 
 he went back up the stairs to his place on the 
 bridge. 
 
 Of course there was no need of his being 
 there. It was, moreover, the hour that he gen- 
 erally devoted to social intercourse with the 
 passengers, gallant and jocose as the lightest- 
 hearted among them, in fair weather. People 
 remarked his absence, and would have called to 
 him where he was, but that there was some- 
 thing in his sad, stern face that just now for- 
 bade all banter. 
 
 " Fool, did I say ? Did I call myself a 
 fool ? " 
 
 He was apostrophizing the white caps, as he 
 leaned against the rail at the end of his walk. 
 
 " Who knows that I 'm a fool ? Never sub- 
 mitted to superstitions such as sailors often 
 cherish. Not I, a sound Methodist, and a stew- 
 ard of the church at that!"
 
 AND WHAT THE GOD OF THE SEA. 385 
 
 Then he resumed the old round again, study- 
 ing the ship and seeking, evidently, to interest 
 himself in his vessel. 
 
 . " Fine run to-day, Mr. Ketchum," exclaimed 
 he, squaring off to the second officer, who was 
 superfluously present, and wondering "why the 
 old man kept the bridge so long this splendid 
 weather." 
 
 'I put her down for seventeen knots, sir," 
 was Mr. Ketchum' s audible reply. 
 
 " Hardly, hardly ; say sixteen, sixteen, Mr. 
 Ketchum." 
 
 "I am sure it will exceed that, sir," the offi- 
 cer rejoined, ready to enter upon argument, def- 
 erentially, to pass the time. 
 
 But the captain had himself already cut short 
 the conversation he had begun, and had resumed 
 his climbing, up hill and down dale, of that 
 ever-changing promenade. 
 
 " Something troubles the old man," mused 
 Ketchum. "Not like him to be abrupt, or seem 
 to lack politeness." 
 
 And the officer preserved his silence there- 
 after, keeping his watch that had no authority 
 so long as the master was there. 
 
 "The other tack!" Captain Broon was mut- 
 tering it over and over. "The other tack. 
 Put her on it."
 
 386 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 No one could hear him ; he stood, solitary, 
 apart, and said it to the sea. 
 
 " Superstitions ? No. But it may be that a 
 kind Providence is tryin' to save me from some 
 evil. Now I believe in Providence," shaking his 
 head and smiting the rail with his hand. "It 
 just may be, now, that I'm too near in shore 
 for the night. Have n't had an observation for 
 some time. Shall get one to-day, though. I'll 
 have it soon now. But the water looks right 
 color," leaning out and dreamily studying the 
 sea. 
 
 His attention was now all absorbed in watch- 
 ing the gray and darkling clouds, not stormy, 
 but indolent and opaque and persistent, which 
 followed after the storm of the last three days, 
 the reaction from the sky's laughter in the first 
 clearing off. 
 
 "Shall hardly get it, Mr. Pike," addressing 
 the navigator, who now stood ready to cheat 
 nature at the slightest chance, as noon ap- 
 proached. 
 
 "I think we will, sir," was the reply. "But 
 really, you know, Captain, we shall not die if 
 we don't." 
 
 For the man could not understand Captain 
 Broon's anxiety. Indeed, he was disposed, almost,
 
 AND WHAT THE GOD OF THE SEA. 38; 
 
 to explain it on the score of "the old man's 
 being so long ashore that he 's nervous about 
 the coast;" and there had been a smile or two 
 exchanged between the officers at the foot of 
 the ladder, at the captain's expense. But who 
 dare be seen to hold the ship-master in light 
 esteem, no matter what follies he exhibits ? 
 
 "Die, my friend?" was Captain Broon's quick 
 response. "May be not. But I want you to 
 get the sun, sir, if it is a possible thing." 
 
 "Of course, sir," was the very deferential 
 reply. 
 
 But after long and careful watching the ap- 
 proximate hour of noon slipped by and more. 
 The aftermath of cloud had not yielded. Noon 
 bells had struck, and the decks had emptied for 
 lunch. 
 
 " You'll have to prick it out again, I see," 
 was Captain Broon's comment to the navigator; 
 and he went to his room for a while. 
 
 The run was posted, and the passengers gath- 
 ered as usual to settle foolish bets and congrat- 
 ulate each other on being so much nearer 
 home. But Captain Broon was not with them, 
 jolly and agreeable, to receive his usual share 
 of the congratulations. , 
 
 The great event of a sea day came and passed
 
 388 
 
 WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 but the old captain was not in his usual place 
 at the head of the table. Yet no man ever 
 loved a good dinner better than he. 
 
 "In his room," was the frequent wifely ex- 
 planation. 
 
 " Mother dear, is he now really ill ? " asked 
 Laura. 
 
 " No, no, child. Broken of his rest so much 
 of late " 
 
 "Asleep, I hope," said Madge Hardy. 
 
 Yet she somehow, and, strangely, she used 
 afterwards to relate, felt a sympathy of unrest 
 with this old sea hero. Even as she expressed 
 the hope that he was asleep, she was certain 
 that he was broad awake and troubled. 
 
 The afternoon bells struck off the hours, and 
 the usual lazy loitering on deck went on this 
 day as on all fair days at sea. 
 
 Captain Broon came up at the stroke of the 
 hour, and marched moodily, avoiding all, to his 
 old beat on the bridge. Let his own words tell 
 the story of his mental state at this hour of 
 that eventful afternoon : 
 
 "Turn which way I would, I saw that order, 
 'Put the ship on the other tack.' It was writ 
 out on the foam which streaks the billows like 
 ropes after high winds are gone. It took shape
 
 AND WHAT THE GOD OF THE SEA. 389 
 
 in the scuds that had been hastenin' after on 
 the grayish sky. The wavy line where sky and 
 water met spelled out the same, sir, 'Put the 
 ship on the other tack.' 
 
 " If I looked up sudden to the sail, v/e were 
 carryin' a few close-reefed to steady, I could 
 ha' sworn I saw the big black letters there 
 upon the canvas, and only when I stared point- 
 blank it vanished. Bein' out'rd bound, we burned 
 dirt coal, of course, and the long smoke, waver- 
 in', beckoned on that other tack. I even thought 
 I saw it on the colors, ' Put the ship on the 
 other tack.' 'Tis a wonder I did not go mad> 
 sir. Indeed, I thought I was. 
 
 " I went below, and pricked my course all out 
 for myself, thinkin' a kind God might be warn- 
 in' me o' danger on the shallow shores off Long 
 Island, say. No ; we were seventy mile from 
 land. 
 
 I knew how unhappy I was makin' wife and 
 the girls, dear hearts. They often looked up at 
 me, or came alongside and offered to hail me. 
 But I couldn't ha' talked with 'em to save my 
 life. And after a while I saw 'em go below, 
 as the sun went down. How glad I was to be 
 rid o* their kind eyes. I was n't particularly 
 thinkin' of my son. But I might ha' known they
 
 390 
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 were thinkin' of him, and prayin', too. You see, 
 my wife was just a bit of a sailor, and knew that 
 gale o' wind had gone ahead of us. And," here 
 he would always pause in his narrative, and lay 
 his great forefinger impressively upon your shoul- 
 der, "I had upset the peace o' these dear 
 women, without thinkin', by my remark at break- 
 fast about my boy's bein' on the sea." 
 
 The writer has heard him tell : 
 
 " As the night fell over the great ship, and 
 the decks became deserted, I dropped into the 
 wake o' the restless passenger you '11 always find 
 on a vessel's deck after dark, walkin' solitary 
 and I kept up a round behind him. My distress 
 of mind kept prickin' on and prickin* on, harder 
 and harder. The sky? You never see the sky 
 ashore. At night and in mid-Atlantic is the 
 time and place to see the heavens. And 'specialty 
 if you have anything on your heart that makes 
 you lift it to the unseen God, as it were, for 
 help. Why, that night, the clouds bein' all 
 gone, the stars seemed to be holdin' me in 
 derision for my disobedience. The next moment 
 them same sparks of fire seemed to threaten 
 me. Then, when I prayed, all the heavens-full 
 kind o' melted into gentle looks, and their eyes 
 softened, as eyes do when tears just begin to fill 
 'em.
 
 AND WHAT THE GOD OF THE SEA. 
 
 391 
 
 "'Put the ship on the other tack.' 
 
 "Well, my friend, I begun to be afraid under 
 the sky there. I 'm not goin' to deny it. Afraid 
 of God, my boy. A man need n't hesitate to 
 confess that. He seemed to be lookin' at me. 
 
 " And the voices of the sea ! They are many 
 and noble to whomsoever will hear. I always 
 enjoyed 'em, and many a time have closed a book 
 I was reading quietly, to listen to 'em. But 
 now all the sea's noises said just this one thing," 
 and he would swing that right arm, scythe-like, 
 nod his great head to the right shoulder, im- 
 pressing the dread refrain : 
 
 " Put the ship on the other tack." 
 
 " I can imagine, Captain, that the winds said 
 it," I once remarked. 
 
 "Well, no. There was no wind after the dog- 
 watch. But there is when you hear the sighs 
 of the riggin', as she whips over the crest. 
 And the machinery of a steamer is continually 
 lamentin' and croakin'. And an iron ship, my 
 lad, is everlastingly bemoanin' herself; ye-a-s, 
 specially in an easy night, when she ought to 
 be happy. All these noises said it. Why, the 
 ship seemed actually unwillin' to go on ! " 
 
 " It must have been about ten o'clock, 
 though I was by that time in such absolute
 
 392 
 
 A WEDDING IN IV A R- TIME. 
 
 agony that, to this day, I have never been able 
 to speak very positively of ray actions about 
 then, that I just stopped stock-still, anchored! 
 I was on the bridge, I 'm sure. I called to the 
 officer in charge, a Mr. Lapham, and said : 
 
 " ' Lapham, put her on the other tack, and 
 let her stand on till midnight. D 'y e hear ? 
 Then come an' wake me. I 'm goin' to sleep.' 
 
 "You should ha' seen the man stare at me. 
 I knew he thought I was crazy. But, of course, 
 he 'd ha' said nothin' if I had commanded him 
 to stop engines or scuttle ship, you know." 
 
 "They never question the master?" I asked. 
 
 " Never. Then, like a whipped dog, I turned 
 and went staggerin' down to my cabin, and 
 threw myself out on the bed, the most relieved 
 man you ever saw. And yet my steamer was 
 tackin' like a brig." 
 
 Captain Broon has often told us that no sooner 
 had he stretched himself out than he was 
 asleep. The whole ship's company slept, except 
 a few nervous people, perhaps, whom the rattling 
 of cordage and the sudden change of motion, an 
 unusual thing with a steamer, sufficed to awaken. 
 The night went on. The ship went on, on her 
 backward tack. 
 
 Suddenly Captain Broon awoke. He sat up
 
 AND WHAT THE GOD OF THE SEA, 393 
 
 and gazed around his room. It was still lamp- 
 light. He reached for his watch that hung on a 
 nail near his head, and looked at the time. 
 
 It was two o'clock of the morning ! 
 
 With a bound the old man sprung to his 
 feet, and touched the signal for the officer of 
 the deck, and angrily waited his coming. 
 
 " Did I not tell you to call me at midnight ? " 
 he demanded, not even addressing the officer by 
 name. 
 
 "You did, sir," was the reply. 
 
 "Well, then why, here it is two o'clock." 
 
 " I came in at twelve, sir ; spoke to you. You 
 apparently awoke. You sat straight up in your 
 berth, and looked me full in the face, asking the 
 time." 
 
 "What!" 
 
 "Yes, sir. I supposed you were awake, for you 
 then added, ' Let her stand on for two hours 
 more,' which I have done." 
 
 Without a word of further reply the old man 
 passed the officer, and ran on deck. The officer 
 followed his superior in wondering silence. 
 
 "Put this ship on her course again!" roared 
 Captain Broon. 
 
 The orders flew from man to man. The sails 
 began to obey. The wheelmen struggled with
 
 394 
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 the high-running seas. The great ship obeyed, 
 slowly, laboriously, and wonderingly it almost 
 seemed, as she turned her prow once more 
 towards the west and the home port. 
 
 " I remember," Captain Broon used to relate, 
 " how calm my mind at once was. All the 
 tempest of many days was over. I only felt 
 indignantly impatient with myself for having lost 
 so much time, and eager to get on our course 
 instantly. I was standin' on the bridge as she 
 wore round. I remember just how she put her 
 nose up on that fust big wave, and took a look, 
 as it were, off towards the moon just a-top the 
 horizon in the west. I was about to turn on 
 my heel and go below, when there, in the 
 sheen of the moon-beams across the tumbled 
 sea, I beheld the broken shape of a pitiful 
 wreck. Had I been a quarter of a mile on 
 either side of the straight line from the moon, 
 I'd ha' missed her sure ! For you can't see a 
 wreck, hull down, in the night, no lights a 
 burnin'. But this one was black, like spiders' 
 webs, across the yellow of the settin' morning 
 moon. 
 
 "It thrilled me like a shock, my dear sir. 
 God had made me sleep over. God had navi- 
 gated that ship. God meant to use me to save 
 those lives.
 
 AND WHAT THE GOD OF THE SEA. 
 
 395 
 
 " Quick as thought I resolved what I would 
 do. I bore straight clown on the wreck. It 
 was n't more than a minute, it seems to me, 
 before every soul on board the Atlantic knew 
 what we had run foul of, and was on deck to 
 see the strange sight. 
 
 " My wife and the two girls I put in the 
 doorway of a house I had on deck, right where 
 they could see me every minute. How wild and 
 excited those women looked in the light of the 
 lamps ! But strange, sir, they were all on their 
 knees. 
 
 " We kept bearin* down on the wretches, of 
 course, and what a silence there was, 'cept as I 
 bawled to the men what I wanted 'em to do 
 when we reached her. I never saw waves run 
 higher. My fust mate vowed we could never 
 send a boat alongside, nor transfer passengers if 
 a boat had 'em. But I knew "we would. I just 
 watched my time. Then I luffed up and slowed 
 down, keepin' her head on, not more than two 
 hundred yards away. And there she was. God 
 help me ! I can hear the shouts of the wretches 
 wailin' through the darkness, even now. 
 
 "What an age it seemed to take to get that 
 fust boat-load back. And when she came I just 
 told * two big fellows to stand by ; then we
 
 396 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 passed a line fore and aft of the boat. When 
 the little thing fell off, she seemed more than 
 forty feet down. Then, when she rose, we just 
 took 'em aboard, like you 'd toss babies, one by 
 one, and the two big sailors caught 'em. 
 
 " Not a word was spoken on board my ship, 
 'cept by myself. An awe and a ' Thank God,' 
 was over us all. The first man we took wore 
 a uniform. In the dim light not many of our 
 people noticed what the rags of the poor fellow 
 were, but I noticed. Then I knew, just as well 
 as if I had been told by an angel, that those 
 were my son's poor people. God help me ! I 
 could hardly stand. It was not till the boat had 
 gone back that a single rescued man was fit to 
 answer a question, and name the wreck. 
 
 "The mate came up to me, and began to 
 announce : . 
 
 " ' It is a regiment ' 
 
 " ' Stop your noise ! ' I bawled, and cast a 
 glance round down to the ladies. 
 
 "But I saw that they had not heard, though 
 there they were, those three dear faces, pale as 
 death, and watchin' for the next boat-load. 
 
 "Just then I heard a man sing out: 
 
 " 'A cast-away on the port bow.' 
 
 "I s'posed it was some one from the wreck
 
 AND WHAT THE GOD OF THE SEA. 39; 
 
 who had thrown himself into the sea. We got 
 a line over, and a man went down to the 
 wreckage, on which it was said the man was 
 floatin', and poundin' his brains out against us. 
 I was watchin' for 'em to draw up, when wilj 
 ye believe it? that girl, Madge Hardy, actually 
 flew down, over stairs, cordage, and lumber, and 
 pressed her way through the men like lightnin', 1 ' 
 with a sweep of the arm to describe it, "and 
 there she stood when they brought up whom 
 do ye think?" 
 
 " Erastus Smiles ! " we generally shouted, all 
 in chorus. 
 
 "None other," always with a pleased toss of 
 his gray-whiskered chin and the hook motion, 
 delighted to think we had guessed right. "And 
 the man was stiff as the dead, all swollen 
 under the cords with which he'd lashed himself 
 to a stave of a ship's long-boat. 
 
 "And the sweet young girl " 
 
 "Never uttered a cry, but followed as they 
 took him to the cabin, and said how he could 
 not be dead, oh, no, she knew he could not be, 
 for that very night she had felt that God would 
 answer her prayer." 
 
 "The other ladies?" 
 
 "Well, then, ye may be sure I had my hands
 
 398 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 full. My son's wife was not quite so calm. Of 
 course she knew all, then. She and my wife, I 
 had 'em up on the bridge with me, in two 
 lashed chairs, faint like, as boat-load after boat- 
 load came in. ' Is he there ? ' ' Have they found 
 Mark yet?' was what they were sayin' ? But I 
 did not expect my son till the last, of course 
 I knew he would do his duty, if he was alive, 
 and see everybody else off first." 
 
 " You asked, of course, if General Broon was 
 on the wreck, alive and well ? " 
 
 "No, sir. I didn't dare ask that." 
 
 "Why so?" 
 
 " Because^ they were all such a weather-beaten 
 and half-starved lot that I was afraid Mark had 
 perished, knowin' how he would have exposed 
 himself most. To have been told that he was 
 dead, afore I must know it, would have jest 
 taken me below. My only son ! Thank God ! " 
 
 "That is, he came in the last boat." 
 
 " Exactly. And like a man, too ; though he 
 was all tatters, and starved for two days and 
 nights. .Yet he stepped down from the rail, 
 where the two big sailors had him, man-fashion, 
 and took my hand. I was right there to meet 
 him. He simply said : 
 
 ' ' I believe, father, it is in answer to prayer.'
 
 AND WHAT THE GOD OF THE SEA. 
 
 399 
 
 "I tell ye, that was a royal hand-shake. I can 
 feel it yet ! But he had to leave me at once 
 an' try to support Laura. And they were both 
 like two babies, and my fust mate and I almost 
 carried 'em both into my cabin." 
 
 It ought to be told, for the honor of human 
 nature. It shall be added. After the last poor 
 castaway was safely on board the Atlantic, the 
 quartermaster of the regiment elbowed his way 
 through the throngs of grateful passengers who 
 surrounded Captain Broon and, paper in hand, 
 began : 
 
 "Captain, the contract, you know." 
 
 " What contract ? " growled the old man. 
 
 "Why, say fifteen thousand dollars, your per- 
 sonal share; and your men, say " 
 
 " What ! A contract for savin' lives on the 
 broad Atlantic ocean? Never!" 
 
 " But the government always " 
 
 " To the dogs with government ! You can give 
 my sailors what you please. But I don 't pro- 
 pose to receive any pay, except from the great 
 God who, once in my life, sent me a direct 
 command ! " 
 
 And though merchants and passengers gave 
 him many and costly testimonials, no salvage 
 money would this old hero ever receive.
 
 400 ^ WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 XVIII. 
 UNARMED. 
 
 1THOUT doubt, for a month at least, 
 Laura, dear," Mark was whispering 
 to his wife, the next day, as in the broad sun- 
 light the steamer was forging up New York 
 bay. 
 
 She drew the closer to him for this assurance, 
 saying : 
 
 " A month, at least, with my own husband ! " 
 
 In fact, reader, it was to be nearer six 
 months. The government at once left the whole 
 charge of gathering up the scattered fragments 
 of the ill-starred expedition in General Broon's 
 hands. His station was to be in New York for 
 half that time. 
 
 "What do you suppose they will do?" asked 
 Laura, indicating, with a nod of the head, Cap- 
 tain Smiles and Madge Hardy, who were nerv- 
 ously pacing the steady deck at a distance. 
 
 "I know what she ought to do," was Mark's 
 reply. "Give her whole heart to that hero, for 
 hero he is, and worthy of her."
 
 UNARMED. 40 i 
 
 "Yes, indeed. Your father goes into ecstasies 
 over the story that everybody is telling about 
 Mr. Smiles' bravery in that boat." 
 
 "Everybody on the ship honors Smiles, except, 
 it may be, " 
 
 She put her pretty fingers to his mouth, and 
 stopped him with : 
 
 " I, too, have learned to honor a man ennobled 
 by a heroic purpose in life." 
 
 "Laura," exclaimed Mark, fervently, "yonder 
 man would give the world to hear you say 
 that." 
 
 She was on her feet in a moment, and send- 
 ing out a silver call, "Captain Smiles!" in the 
 direction of her beckoning hand, as that officer 
 and Madge Hardy made their next turn on the 
 deck. 
 
 The two invited parties approached at once ; 
 the man pale, the woman warmly blushing. 
 
 Laura flew up on Madge's side, and then 
 extending a hand across to Erastus Smiles, 
 began, bravely : 
 
 " Captain Smiles, I have hardly exchanged the 
 greetings with you which such a hero, such a 
 true and noble man as you have shown yourself 
 to be, deserves." 
 
 Then Madge fell to embracing and kissing
 
 402 
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 the speaker in such an impulsive way that both 
 Smiles and Broon could think of nothing better 
 to do than to shake hands. 
 
 "I say, Captain," Mark began, "your cup of 
 happiness must be about full. You may as well 
 confess that this lovely girl, here, has given you 
 a hope to live for. Engaged already, aren't 
 you?" 
 
 But Smiles was so nearly overcome with emo- 
 tion by young Mrs. Lane's speech that he could 
 only stammer out : 
 
 " Not quite as far as that, General. But you 
 must release my hand. I must give it again to 
 your noble wife, whose faith in me," as he 
 seized her hand again, and gazed earnestly into 
 her kind eyes, "is worth almost as much as the 
 love of a forgiving God." 
 
 " Eh, Captain ? " was Broon's quick response. 
 "A forgiving and loving God? You believe, 
 then ? " 
 
 " General, a man taught as I was in child- 
 hood, on my mother's part, do n't spend forty- 
 eight hours on a raft in mid-ocean without 
 prayer. And he does not come to rescue, as I 
 did ; does not hear it from the lips of a beauti- 
 ful woman, as I have from Miss Hardy's, that 
 she, too, was praying for him, without believing
 
 UNARMED. 
 
 403 
 
 that the great God hears the prayers of the 
 good." 
 
 "Thank God I hear that speech!" fervently 
 replied Broon. " Old Mayor Hardy could n't ob- 
 ject to that sentiment in a proposed son-in-law." 
 
 " Papa, " Madge began. 
 
 "Suffer me to say it, Miss Hardy," Smiles 
 interrupted. " I realize, General, the social ob- 
 stacles that are in my way. We have, to be 
 frank with you, been speaking about them. 
 Might I dare so much as to ask your good 
 offices with this lady's parents, when we get 
 ashore, on my poor behalf?" 
 
 "Smiles," said Broon, "one single word from 
 my father to Hardy, if he talks about you to 
 him as he is talking about you to this ship's 
 company, will leave nothing to be desired." 
 
 "Thank you; thank him!" replied Smiles, "of 
 course you and I are in for the war ; and a 
 long time will yet ensue in which I may prove 
 to Mr. Hardy, for myself, that I am not alto- 
 gether unworthy." 
 
 " Captain, I'll have you with me for the 
 present, any way," rejoined 'Broon. 
 
 "If I consulted myself only I might well be 
 glad tp hear that, sir," said Smiles; "for there 
 are other and more vexatious matters connected 
 with the with my unhappy "
 
 404 
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 " Now, Smiles," said Broon, interrupting, " let 
 us trust your father and my wife's mother," 
 reclaiming Laura with the slightest cloud of 
 anxiety shadowing his happy face, " to the same 
 God of prayer. It will all come out right, some- 
 how. You do not mean to prefer the field to 
 my staff, in New York, a few weeks, collecting 
 this shattered expedition again ? " 
 
 "I mean, General, that nothing will satisfy " 
 
 "You shall not say me," put in Madge, "nor 
 my father. You, Mark and Laura, bear me 
 protest." 
 
 " True," Smiles resumed. " Nothing will satisfy 
 my own sense of well, of duty and reparation, 
 when I think of my poor father, but plain hard 
 service in the field." 
 
 There was something so calmly resolute in 
 the man's air that the young general checked 
 himself midway of his protest, and was silent. 
 Then he asked : 
 
 " Reparation ? What would satisfy you, to 
 be half killed in battle?" 
 
 " I would have been as glad to avoid maiming 
 as the next fellow," said Smiles, with an 
 attempt to make light of the presentiments that 
 he could not quite trifle away, "But I fear 
 that is not to be."
 
 UNARMED. 
 
 405 
 
 " Pshaw," said Laura. " You must not return, 
 sir, to your father's prescience of future events." 
 And then she was sorry that she had been 
 so frank. 
 
 Captain Smiles gave her a curious look, half 
 pity and the other half forgiveness, yet unmis- 
 takably not dislodged from the mysterious and 
 prophetic impression that was upon him. Who 
 can explain yet, who can deny, that such 
 impressions of the future do cast their images 
 over our souls at times ? 
 
 "At all events, General," Smiles resumed, "I 
 must go to the front. I must make this family 
 name of mine a comfort to myself, at least, to 
 wear, by being willing to have no name among 
 the living. My father is a fugitive from God 
 pity me ! What sober prose is this for lover's 
 talks." 
 
 " It is war-time, old fellow," laughed Broon, 
 with a sad cadence. Then looking away over 
 the sea, " We young folks have n't got to safe 
 anchorage yet, as father would say." 
 
 "Pardon me, said Smiles, "but you have, 
 General, if you please." 
 
 " How so ?" with a surprised stare. " Your 
 father has picked up a pilot and has read the 
 papers. I just overheard him telling your
 
 4 o6 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 mother some rather joyful tidings. You haven't 
 seen him since ? " 
 
 " No ; I confess I don't catch your meaning," 
 said Broon, yet rousing himself as he saw the 
 old skipper approaching, shaking the New York 
 papers in his hands. 
 
 "The papers are full of it, my son." 
 
 "Full of what, father? The latest battle?" 
 
 " Bless you, no. The army ain't doin' any- 
 thing. That makes an old fellow like me sad. 
 But I can't help feelin' personally kind o' all 
 sails full. You see, resin an' tar are way up 
 out o' sight. Jest as I expected. Bob, I'm 
 well, I don't mind sayin' it out, right here, 
 among shipmates as 't were. And you all know 
 I'm too old to foller the sea again." 
 
 " Father, you have n't a selfish hair in your 
 head," exclaimed Mark, springing up and grasp- 
 ing the old man's hand. " I see it all. Thank 
 God for you. Your speculation has turned out 
 well ? " 
 
 " I can sell out to-day, and be independent ! 
 But I shall only sell half." 
 
 "Allow me to congratulate you, sir," said 
 Captain Smiles, but not venturing to look at his 
 superior officers, on whose valor and patriotism 
 he realized that he had cast reflection.
 
 UNARMED. 407 
 
 " Yes," resumed the captain, looking round 
 half regretfully on his vessel, " she goes back 
 without me. But I 'm too old to foller the sea. 
 I'll stop ashore now and live on my salt 
 money, please the kind God." 
 
 " Tar and resin money, rather," laughed 
 Laura, taking his arm, newspapers and all. 
 
 " I am so glad for you, uncle dear," added 
 Madge. 
 
 And then the congratulations being complete, 
 all these young people began to think out what 
 effect on the future this sudden bewilderment 
 of renewed riches was to have. If it had been 
 any time but war-time, the future would have 
 been gilded as with a sunrise, but not now. 
 Yet Mark Broon had gone into the army when 
 rich ; it was not on that phase of things that 
 he was ruminating, head down, then looking up 
 and remarking questioningly : 
 
 "Of course?" 
 
 "Yes," resumed his father, "and I shall at 
 once take back the lodge in the woods for ye, 
 my boy. Before night of the first day ashore, 
 I '11 have Eaglecroft and the town house again 
 in hand." 
 
 "But, father, all that is excellent." 
 
 The general's voice was firm now.
 
 4 08 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 "Yet how about this Lane-Smiles litigation? 
 That worries me most, if you '11 pardon me, 
 Captain Smiles ; and I 'm to be too busy to give 
 it a moment's attention. As soon as I can 
 clear up the wreckage of my unlucky expedition 
 I must be off again, of course, no man can tell 
 whither. I want to take Laura with me, if 
 possible." 
 
 " Exactly," was the old man's reply. " You 
 fellers just push right on in your fightin', and 
 I'll attend to all your business on shore." 
 
 "My wretched father ," began Captain Smiles, 
 his face pale as death. 
 
 "And my unhappy mother ," Laura inter- 
 rupted, her eyes filling. 
 
 "Young man," sharply, yet not unkindly, the 
 old sailor addressed Smiles, " and you, my pretty 
 niece, are you two people engaged to ship 
 together ? " 
 
 " It is impossible, sir," said Smiles, " that we 
 should be, however much we might wish it. 
 After a battle or two, possibly Mayor Hardy 
 and his noble wife might be willing to listen to 
 my suit." 
 
 "Why, I like that, young man," said the skip- 
 per. "You can show us the kind of blood in 
 your veins, whoever 's your father, And my
 
 UNARMED. 
 
 409 
 
 money," witn a tender look bent on Laura, 
 whose face was now hiding its tears on Mark's 
 shoulder, "why, money can fix up this this 
 crookedness that has involved poor Mrs. Lane's 
 property." 
 
 " Hear me ! " vehemently Captain Smiles began. 
 " Is that what you mean ? Why, there is noth- 
 ing wrong there. Do you not see that my 
 unhappy father would never dare claim the fulfil- 
 ment of any contract for that farm ? Great 
 God, pity me ! My father is a criminal ! His 
 graver offence against the security of a transport 
 full of United States troops has driven him a 
 fugitive from his country. Oh, I thought I had 
 rectified his wrong ! I tried. I did ! I did ! 
 God must know I tried, both to block his 
 scheme and to hide the proof of it from his 
 enemies ! " 
 
 And Smiles, with hands clutched behind his 
 back, an agony of shame on his features, paced 
 back and forth in the little space where the 
 group of pitying friends gazed on him in 
 silence. 
 
 "Well, Laura, that's good news for you. 
 That's true, too," said Mark, in a low tone, in 
 his wife's ear. "It is generally the way, in a 
 good God's world, that scamps circumvent them-
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 selves at last, give them time enough. Now all 
 that we have to do is to see that mother is 
 cured of her delusions, and kept from others. 
 The old Bible on our table and our Sundays in 
 a Christian church will be wholesome anti- 
 dotes." 
 
 "I tried to cover father's tracks," groaned 
 Erastus Smiles, now suddenly confronting them, 
 and pouring out his speech again in eloquent 
 sorrow. " If I did wrong in that, Heaven 
 knows that I was honest, for I shipped myself 
 in the crazy craft that nearly sent us to the 
 bottom. Oh, shame, shame ! I suppose, now, 
 that that man got thousands of dollars as the 
 price of our imperiled lives, his own's son's life 
 included. Wait. Hear me through. He has fled. 
 His professional enemies have the proofs. He 
 will never return. He is a sick man at the 
 best. I hope it is insanity. I could love him 
 then. He will die in Canada. You are all free 
 of your troubles, except except this sweet girl 
 and myself. I shall do one thing. I shall con- 
 front bullets. If God lets me live, and per- 
 haps he will, for my mother's prayers and Miss 
 Hardy's " 
 
 "And your own, boy. Say your own prayers, 
 child. Don 't think that it is in man to atone
 
 UNARMED. 
 
 411 
 
 for his own or others' sins," said the old cap- 
 tain, tenderly. "There is One who suffered for 
 us all. Since Calvary, each may pray for him- 
 self." 
 
 "Yes, my friends," responded Smiles, now 
 casting himself down on the bench beside Madge. 
 "I am going straight back to the faith of my 
 Christian mother. No one knows, except he has 
 been there, the horror of that abyss of super- 
 stition from whence I am struggling upward. 
 The world all chaos ; no Bible, no altar, no 
 honor. Nay, no law but luck ; no good but 
 gains. Yet ghosts and visions ; a gibberish of 
 so<alled inspirations, and all these prompting to 
 added lies. The earth not real ; the sky not 
 real ; men and woman of truth not real. Noth- 
 ing real but appetites. Despised by the virtuous, 
 and hating them in revenge. Pitied by those 
 who love you, and ashamed of the glances of 
 their kind eyes. Oh, my friends, this is the 
 deep into which my once orthodox father sunk, 
 and whither he was willing to pull me down. 
 I can only try to believe that at last he was 
 sincere in his mad delusions, that he himself 
 really had come to think, in his lunacy, that 
 the universe was false, and there was no 
 God!"
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 "Stop!" 
 
 It was Madge Hardy that cried out. She 
 put her handsome hand lovingly across his lips. 
 He took down her hand quietly, and held it, 
 while he added : 
 
 "Now it is my prayer that I may once offer 
 my life, in a place of courage, for my fellows 
 and this great country ; if Heaven gives it back 
 to me " 
 
 " I will marry you, if I have to be hands 
 for you all your days ! " cried Madge Hardy 
 this time stopping his lips with her free, soft 
 
 palm. 
 
 * * * * * * 
 
 On the twentieth day of September, just 
 eleven weeks after the battle of Gettysburg, 
 there was a joyous wedding at the handsome 
 residence of Ex-mayor Hardy, in the pretty city 
 of S - . 
 
 Everybody that we know was there. Old 
 Captain Broon, with his broad laughter ; his 
 quiet wife ; Mrs. Lane, quite like other folks at 
 last again, thanks to her residence for three 
 months in the Broon mansion in New York; 
 Mrs. Smiles, a gracious lady in widow's weeds, 
 whom the reader has never seen, her pretty 
 daughters at her side, and a look upon her
 
 UNARMED. 
 
 413 
 
 sweet, sad features such as the landscape some- 
 times wears when a storm has just passed, and 
 at evening time it is light. 
 
 General Mark Broon was there, all in splendid 
 military dress, with Laura and her crooning 
 little daughter most of the time upon her arm ; 
 for it was still war-time, and the general's hours 
 with them were to be as yet few ; he said, as 
 it was a home wedding, and another wedding in 
 war-time, "the infantry would not seem out of 
 place." 
 
 It was a happy wedding. It was the gift of 
 God. God's blessing was asked upon it, the 
 God who hears prayer. This all these Christian 
 women believed ; believing this, they were to 
 send these two brave men back to the wars in 
 good cheer. It was evident that the groom was 
 quite able again to do good service as colonel 
 on General Broon's staff ; they hoped to the 
 end, which now, thank God, began to seem not 
 far off. 
 
 Madge Hardy, at the right place in the cere- 
 mony, took .Erastus Smiles' left hand. The right 
 hand was miles away at Gettysburg. 
 
 After five and twenty years, at this writing, 
 the name of Smiles is no shame to its one. 
 armed owner, as he walks, an honored citizen,
 
 A WEDDING IN WAR-TIME. 
 
 the streets of S . Providentially, Mr. Hardy's 
 
 fortune left him no need for two hands to earn 
 bread. But yet there are no busier hearts and 
 heads than those of "the two generals," as people 
 
 in New York and S call Smiles and Broon, 
 
 who are the happy burden-bearers of three of 
 the largest benevolent institutions in those two 
 cities, not to speak of less known charities of 
 Christian gentlemen of wealth, with leisure for 
 such noble service.

 
 K^t 
 
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